It's been a long while since I've posted and so much has happened... Yet at the same time, not much at all...
Since Guilt forced me to deal with things, people in my head have gotten quieter. It took what seemed like a long time, but I have been able to sleep without seeing that man. A few nights ago, I even started sleeping without a nightlight or the closet light on. So, I guess that's progress...
My personal life has been chaotic and stressful. My car broke down as my girlfriend and I were trying to get to her relative's house; taking care of that was... very stressful. I have been living at my parent's house for the past few weeks. They have offered me a place to stay, and eventually Nickie too, while we get back on our feet. Things started out very rough with my parents... It felt like I couldn't enter a room without feeling imaginary guilt for something, just like it was back in high school.
All the stress compounded and eventually my mind when into lock down mode. I could not enter the Black Room, nor could I communicate with Little Erin via her walky-talky or Morrigan via her cell phone. I didn't hear from anyone for several days until I was baking a cake and Morrigan was getting upset with something I was doing wrong and she was able to get through some how. (By the way, if you do not have a sifter for your powdered sugar, a whisk works equally as well.)
It was only when I made my way back to central Illinois to the Roy's house (where Nickie and I had been staying since December) did the Black Room open up again. The moment it opened, Guilt yelled, "It's about fucking time!" It made me smile a lot; I hadn't realized how weird it was to have such a quiet mind. However, since it's opened back up, I still haven't heard much from the others and it's become harder to enter the Black Room. My theory is that I'm just not relaxed enough to be able to do it well.
I'm not sure if this should worry me. I mean, large amounts of stress does weird things to everyone, so it makes sense to me that something like that could happen. I think what bothers me more is how quiet everyone has been. It makes me wonder if it is the quiet before a storm or if it is just going to be calmer for a while.
If there is a "storm" coming, my next worry is about my parents with whom I am currently staying. My mom only today gave any indication that she thinks I have MPD; I had told her when it was confirmed by my counselor. I don't know how they'll take me not being me at some point. What if Guilt comes out when they're around? Or Morrigan? Heaven forbid, Blissy. Little Erin and Guilt have come around when it was very late at night and they both promised to not leave my bedroom. But during the day, I might not have that luxury. It is so common for people with MPD to go to sleep and wake up days later not knowing where they are or how they got there. I've taken it for granted that it's not happened to me, but I must wonder what will happen if it ever does... I just hope my parents are understanding enough to believe me when their daughter tells them her name isn't Erin, it's something else. I just hope they don't get angry with me...
My counselor thinks that the amount of control I have over all of us is what keeps them from taking over randomly. She says that I need to find a time to let them out, to tell them that they all will have their turn having their own voice that will be heard. But it frightens me, because, when I am co-conscious, I have no control over what they do. I can give them information about where things are or who people are, but other than that, I have no control. I don't know if letting them out like that is something I can do.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
About Little Erin -- Yomi
Over the past few days I have learned much more about Little Erin and what exactly she means to me. (In the picture below, Little Erin would be the girl on the bottom step.)
When I first met Little Erin it was at the insistence of Blissy. I had just had been scared while taking a shower and Blissy asked me if I wanted to see what she thought I looked like. Before I could answer, she had shoved a mirror in front of my face and I was looking at the reflection of what I looked like at 6 years old, or there about. When I put the mirror down, there in front of me stood my reflection. I asked her her name and she replied with my full name. This little girl was me when I was a child, and it scared the crap out of me.
Since then, I made her the Room of Requirement in order that she has a place to stay outside the reach of Blissy.
Little Erin is a charming little girl; full of wonder and curiosity. Nickie adores her and shows Little Erin all sorts of things when she comes out. Little Erin still thinks it's 1995, even though we have explained multiple times that it isn't, that her body is older now. She doesn't look in mirrors because it truly weirds her out that she is tall, her hand are big, and that, instead of white hair, she now has black.
Nickie and I have been slowly exposing her to the Disney movies that she missed out on and the video games we know she will love. To her, the original Nintendo (NES) is the only platform available. We haven't shown her the Wii just yet, but she has seen internet games. The internet itself was somewhat hard to explain, but it was managed. All in all, Little Erin is a bright and obedient girl.
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I have been learning recently that her and I have a much stronger connection than even Morrigan and I have. At first it frightened me, I didn't understand why being around Little Erin made me feel so vulnerable. So I was happy to pass her off to Nickie whenever she came out; it doesn't help that I have no earthly idea of what to do with a child that age.
Little Erin still makes me feel vulnerable, but now, at least, I understand why and that it is okay. After she shared the memory of the man at the playground with me, I had naively thought that she did not hold anything connected to those memories... Looking back, I cannot believe how stupid I was to assume this. Little Erin is a frightened and scared little girl that still has no idea of what to do with the memories that she has tried so hard to forget. She made me feel vulnerable because we had the same pain, the same questions, the same fears... I didn't realize this until she wrote down her memories. I can't believe I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I missed hers. Her and I get along much better now that we understand one another.
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From what I can tell, Little Erin experienced abuse from the man at the playground six different times causing the splits for Guilt, Jihan, Marie, Morrigan, and Yomi. The current theory is that after Little Erin could not handle life, Marie took over. I do not know when the transition from Marie to Yomi happened. This theory has flaws, but it's the best I have for now.
-- Yomi
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(Little Erin is the girl in the bottom right corner.)
When I first met Little Erin it was at the insistence of Blissy. I had just had been scared while taking a shower and Blissy asked me if I wanted to see what she thought I looked like. Before I could answer, she had shoved a mirror in front of my face and I was looking at the reflection of what I looked like at 6 years old, or there about. When I put the mirror down, there in front of me stood my reflection. I asked her her name and she replied with my full name. This little girl was me when I was a child, and it scared the crap out of me. Since then, I made her the Room of Requirement in order that she has a place to stay outside the reach of Blissy.
Little Erin is a charming little girl; full of wonder and curiosity. Nickie adores her and shows Little Erin all sorts of things when she comes out. Little Erin still thinks it's 1995, even though we have explained multiple times that it isn't, that her body is older now. She doesn't look in mirrors because it truly weirds her out that she is tall, her hand are big, and that, instead of white hair, she now has black.
Nickie and I have been slowly exposing her to the Disney movies that she missed out on and the video games we know she will love. To her, the original Nintendo (NES) is the only platform available. We haven't shown her the Wii just yet, but she has seen internet games. The internet itself was somewhat hard to explain, but it was managed. All in all, Little Erin is a bright and obedient girl.
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I have been learning recently that her and I have a much stronger connection than even Morrigan and I have. At first it frightened me, I didn't understand why being around Little Erin made me feel so vulnerable. So I was happy to pass her off to Nickie whenever she came out; it doesn't help that I have no earthly idea of what to do with a child that age.
Little Erin still makes me feel vulnerable, but now, at least, I understand why and that it is okay. After she shared the memory of the man at the playground with me, I had naively thought that she did not hold anything connected to those memories... Looking back, I cannot believe how stupid I was to assume this. Little Erin is a frightened and scared little girl that still has no idea of what to do with the memories that she has tried so hard to forget. She made me feel vulnerable because we had the same pain, the same questions, the same fears... I didn't realize this until she wrote down her memories. I can't believe I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I missed hers. Her and I get along much better now that we understand one another.
--------------------
From what I can tell, Little Erin experienced abuse from the man at the playground six different times causing the splits for Guilt, Jihan, Marie, Morrigan, and Yomi. The current theory is that after Little Erin could not handle life, Marie took over. I do not know when the transition from Marie to Yomi happened. This theory has flaws, but it's the best I have for now.
-- Yomi
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(Little Erin is the girl in the bottom right corner.)
Memories -- Little Erin
A note from Yomi:
February 1, Little Erin asked me if she could come out to write about things that she could remember.
Original spellings and grammar will be kept to retain the feel of a 6-year-old's thoughts. Correct spelling will be in brackets.
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When things happen that I do not unterstand [understand] I am told that I will one day when I am old. Some things have happened to me and I do not unterstood [understand] them. Big Erin is old now but she still not unterstand [still does not understand]. Bad things happen to me and Big Erin. Things we forgot or tryed [tried] to forget. Things I am not likeing [liking] to talk about. But sometimes talking about bad thins [things] is good? I am scared when I think about what he did. I think that he will find me and hurt me agan [again]. I am hurting wher [where] no one sees. A person can look for my hurt and they can not see it. It is invizible [invisible]. Why did the man hurt me? Did I make him mad? Did I do something bad? He scared m [me] when he came to bend [behind] me. I love swings. And running. No more now. If I swing he can find me. I can not run fast away from him. He catches me. He holded [holds] me in the durt [dirt]. He hurted [hurt] me in the durts [dirt]. I cried but he not let me go. I cried that hight [night] until I fell sleep. And I cried every night until I forgot. I loved swings and he would find me. He found me a lot. He brout [brought] a diferent [different] man one time. He hurt me less than the First man. They told me to keep it sekret [secret]. No one would believe me they sayed [said]. I cried more but I was queit [quiet]. No one heard my tears. I cried until I forgot. Then I sleped [slept] for long time. Very long, long, long, long, tim [time]. When I wake up Blissy taks [takes] me to clean room. The clean room is bad place. I do not like clean room. I was there for long time. Not as long as I sleeped [slept], but still long time. Then Big Erin finded [found] me and made me my own room away from Blissy. Away from Clean room. I like my room But I am by alone. Mary [Marie] is with im y [in my] room but she does not play. Shilow [Shiloh] does not play. Shilow [Shiloh] is boring. Nere plays with me som [some] times. But Nere do not unterstand [understand] inglehs [English]. I have a hard time talking to Nere. Nere likes to draw and dig. Nere is my good friend. I am done writing.
Little Erin 2-1-1995
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The first image is of Little Erin's handwriting. The second is of Yomi's handwriting. Both are shown in order to see the marked difference between the two. To see a larger image of either picture, merely click on the picture itself.
February 1, Little Erin asked me if she could come out to write about things that she could remember.
Original spellings and grammar will be kept to retain the feel of a 6-year-old's thoughts. Correct spelling will be in brackets.
--------------------
When things happen that I do not unterstand [understand] I am told that I will one day when I am old. Some things have happened to me and I do not unterstood [understand] them. Big Erin is old now but she still not unterstand [still does not understand]. Bad things happen to me and Big Erin. Things we forgot or tryed [tried] to forget. Things I am not likeing [liking] to talk about. But sometimes talking about bad thins [things] is good? I am scared when I think about what he did. I think that he will find me and hurt me agan [again]. I am hurting wher [where] no one sees. A person can look for my hurt and they can not see it. It is invizible [invisible]. Why did the man hurt me? Did I make him mad? Did I do something bad? He scared m [me] when he came to bend [behind] me. I love swings. And running. No more now. If I swing he can find me. I can not run fast away from him. He catches me. He holded [holds] me in the durt [dirt]. He hurted [hurt] me in the durts [dirt]. I cried but he not let me go. I cried that hight [night] until I fell sleep. And I cried every night until I forgot. I loved swings and he would find me. He found me a lot. He brout [brought] a diferent [different] man one time. He hurt me less than the First man. They told me to keep it sekret [secret]. No one would believe me they sayed [said]. I cried more but I was queit [quiet]. No one heard my tears. I cried until I forgot. Then I sleped [slept] for long time. Very long, long, long, long, tim [time]. When I wake up Blissy taks [takes] me to clean room. The clean room is bad place. I do not like clean room. I was there for long time. Not as long as I sleeped [slept], but still long time. Then Big Erin finded [found] me and made me my own room away from Blissy. Away from Clean room. I like my room But I am by alone. Mary [Marie] is with im y [in my] room but she does not play. Shilow [Shiloh] does not play. Shilow [Shiloh] is boring. Nere plays with me som [some] times. But Nere do not unterstand [understand] inglehs [English]. I have a hard time talking to Nere. Nere likes to draw and dig. Nere is my good friend. I am done writing.
Little Erin 2-1-1995
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The first image is of Little Erin's handwriting. The second is of Yomi's handwriting. Both are shown in order to see the marked difference between the two. To see a larger image of either picture, merely click on the picture itself.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
To a certain unknown man -- Yomi
I was a child! Only six years old. Sure, maybe I wasn't supposed to be there that day, but neither were you. So how dare you! How dare you touch and traumatize a little girl. Do you have any idea what you've done? I couldn't handle it, so my mind broke in order to take care of me. I lived for 15 years wondering why I believed I was worthless, tainted, imperfect. Then, when I was finally able to admit to myself that I could see a glimmer of beauty in myself--both inner and outer--when I finally managed that. I remembered. I found out how my own mind had been protecting me, and all my progress--everything I had put years into, my countless tears, all my excruciatingly hard emotional work--after all that...
I remembered you.
I remembered your hands. Your mouth. Your fingers. All of them touching caressing that which you had no right to even dare take. Do you even realize how much terror you put into me? How much doubt? Do you even regret your actions? Do you regret breaking a small, helpless girl?
You, sir, have scarred me deeper than words can describe. My very inner being aches and throbs as though hundreds of blades have pierced me and they cannot be removed. Can you imagine the pain? It's overwhelming. My body wracks with sobs when I don't block it out, if I think about it.
I close my eyes to find peace as I sleep, but I can see your silhouette, your vest, your orange hat. It's as though I have to submit to your abuse before being allowed the luxury of sleep. I close my eyes and your hands are on me again, in me again. I hate it.
And I begin to hate myself, because some small part of me enjoyed it. I disgust myself. I feel impure, dirty, used, thrown aside. And it's your fault.
You used me like a disposable object. You preyed on me multiple times, then threw me away when you had your fill. Like trash, garbage, refuse. I grew up believing that about myself.
If this wasn't enough, you planted that cruel lie as you whispered in my ear... "If you tell... No one will believe you..." Was breaking me not enough?! Why did you have to plant doubt in me! Victims don't usually tell about their abuse. So why did you feel this was necessary?!
You screwed my live over! I am a mess, an emotional train wreck. Why did you do it? For a moment's pleasure?
I hope you burn in Hell.
I remembered you.
I remembered your hands. Your mouth. Your fingers. All of them touching caressing that which you had no right to even dare take. Do you even realize how much terror you put into me? How much doubt? Do you even regret your actions? Do you regret breaking a small, helpless girl?
You, sir, have scarred me deeper than words can describe. My very inner being aches and throbs as though hundreds of blades have pierced me and they cannot be removed. Can you imagine the pain? It's overwhelming. My body wracks with sobs when I don't block it out, if I think about it.
I close my eyes to find peace as I sleep, but I can see your silhouette, your vest, your orange hat. It's as though I have to submit to your abuse before being allowed the luxury of sleep. I close my eyes and your hands are on me again, in me again. I hate it.
And I begin to hate myself, because some small part of me enjoyed it. I disgust myself. I feel impure, dirty, used, thrown aside. And it's your fault.
You used me like a disposable object. You preyed on me multiple times, then threw me away when you had your fill. Like trash, garbage, refuse. I grew up believing that about myself.
If this wasn't enough, you planted that cruel lie as you whispered in my ear... "If you tell... No one will believe you..." Was breaking me not enough?! Why did you have to plant doubt in me! Victims don't usually tell about their abuse. So why did you feel this was necessary?!
You screwed my live over! I am a mess, an emotional train wreck. Why did you do it? For a moment's pleasure?
I hope you burn in Hell.
Damaged -- Yomi
Dreaming comes so easily, cause it's all I've ever known. True love is a fairy tale, I'm damaged so how could I know. I'm scared and I'm alone; I'm ashamed and I need for you to know. I didn't say all the things that I wanted to say, and you can't take back what you've taken away, cause I feel you; I feel you near me. Healing comes so painfully and it chills me to the bone. Will anyone get close to me? I'm damaged as I'm sure you know. There's a mending for my soul; and ending to this fear; forgiveness for a man who was stronger. I was just a little girl, but I can't go back...
-- "Damaged" by Plumb
A week or more ago, I learned something new which has cause more inner turmoil and struggle than I have ever had to face. It's as if I have had questions haunting me my whole life, and they were answered with one single memory...
Why? Why do I feel incomplete, flawed, worthless? Why do I feel like people ought not like me? How come I have always hated myself?
When I was a kid in Girl Scouts, there were plenty of talks about self-esteem and self-image. I had always scoffed, saying that it was bologna and that we ought not place esteem in ourselves. My mom told me it was because I had naturally high self-esteem... But I would cry at night, hating who I was...
So I ignored it, as best I could, for a long time as I tried to shape my image as "the weird girl." It wasn't hard and it made a great defense against people who I thought wouldn't understand. I found that strange people tended to be broken people, and broken people understood.
But still, there were nights, countless nights, that I would ask why I was sad though I had no discernible reason. Then in high school I would be overly angry, depressed, melancholic, all for no apparent reason. Sometimes it was a deep ache that would come unexpectedly, stay for a while, and then just as unexpectedly leave without a trace. There never was a reason that I could find. And when I talked to my mom about it, she would always say that I just didn't think hard enough to find the reason... But now it makes sense, for I had simply blocked out all recollection of why.
I was watching the movie Thr3e (based on the novel by Ted Dekker; I recommend) which is about an extreme case of MPD. The main character had a flash back to a swing set swaying in the wind at night... Apparently, Little Erin had gotten bored so she took a look to see what I was doing, saw the swings, and thought we were at a playground. There had been previous incidents where I learned that something had happened to me at a playground when I was a young child, but Little Erin had always refused to talk about it. In hindsight, I cannot blame her at all; I can hardly talk about the memory myself... Needless to say, Little Erin is afraid of playgrounds, especially swings, and was very frightened. As I tried to understand better why she was afraid, Little Erin returned to me the memory of what happened all those years ago. When I snapped out of the flash back, I was able to choke out what happened to Nickie, then my body collapsed into body wracking sobs.
When I calmed a bit, Nickie asked to talk with Little Erin, if she felt safe enough to come out. Things when I was co-conscious with Little Erin are a bit hazy, but Nickie tells me she talked a bit with Little Erin about the memory. I do remember that we watched the beginning of Disney's Mulan, which she had never seen before and had fallen asleep during. I took over after Little Erin fell asleep and Nickie then told me that Little Erin cried hard enough to make my stomach upset...
As I tried to fall asleep a bit later, the fact that that what I remembered really happened, and I sobbed more. My eyes were swollen a little the next day.
Since then, I have spent the hours and days struggling between complete denial and grudging acceptance of the abuse I experienced. I was more than happy to continue denying that it happened, but Guilt wouldn't allow that.
Last Thursday (January 27th) night, Guilt finally became so fed up with me avoiding the subject that she gave me a promise. I'm not entirely sure how Guilt managed it, but she forced me to feel what I believe to be the mass majority of the pain the alters were created to take care of. When I slowed my crying, Guilt threatened that ever day that I do not deal with it, she will haunt and torment me as I try to sleep. Nickie wasn't too happy about the threat, but agreed to remind me to think and deal with things... I agreed to nothing and continued to deny the reality of my memory.
Two days after that happened, I realized just how many questions that this one memory answers if I accept it's reality...
Q: Why have I been in pain my whole life?
A: Because when I was 6-years old, a man cruelly and horribly abused me and I couldn't handle it.
However, along with the answers comes new phobias, new pain. My mild fear of men has exploded into a phobia of men I do not know. I don't want people to touch me. The smell of beer/alcohol, which I previously enjoyed, now frightens me.
And as I begin to struggle with these, the overriding fear is that people won't believe me. That my parents will not believe me. I hardly want to believe it happened, so why would others believe me when I didn't tell them about it at the time? When I "supposedly" suppressed it for 15 years? Why should people believe my testimony?
"Will anyone get close to me? I'm damaged as I'm sure you know.... I was just a little girl, but I can't go back..."
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