Our life

I’m not sure how these blog things go but I feel the need to write at this moment. What I might write could be triggering so if anyone reads this, take caution. Things have started to go a little crazy with me lately. I’m working really hard on becoming co-conscious with my alters but I’m not getting far and it’s starting to frustrate me. Going through the denial phase is really annoying but right now the denial isn’t really effecting me…

I’m not sure why I decided to post today but now I feel the need to go over some things from my past. Starting with when the DID started… I was 6 and staying the summer with my dad. My Grandfather had just died a week or two before and I walked into the little “tree house” that my dad built on the ground in the back yard. He was sitting at the wooden circle table with two of his friends. At this time my dads drug use turned from things like acid and coke to crack. He was with his new crack head friends and when I walked in I saw one of the men holding a gun loading a bullet into it. I turned to run away and my dad stopped me.

He made me sit at the last open seat at the table. I was afraid of him because his temper was already well known to me long before this happened. I didn’t want to be in there with men I didn’t know and that gun but he forced me to stay. They were all laughing and talking to eachother but I wasn’t paying attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun that was placed on the table. The man  to the left of me picked up the gun, put it to his head and pulled the trigger. All I heard was a click. The men and my dad started laughing and banging things and the man put the gun on the table and spun it.  The nozzle pointed to my dad. I sat there not knowing what to say or do and I couldn’t move a finger. All I wanted to do was run out of there screaming but I couldn’t make a noise. The tears were rushing down my face but I couldn’t make anything else on my body move. I watched the gun move up to my dads head and heard the click again. This time I didn’t hear any laughter or banging. I only saw the gun and heard nothing but my thoughts. I watched the gun spin on the table again and the nozzle pointed to me. 

I sat there and stared at the gun and knew what was about to happen. I fought with myself and somehow forced myself out of the chair and forced something out of my mouth. I tried to scream but all that came out was a low trembling “no”. I looked at my dad hoping and praying he wasn’t going to force me to pull the trigger on myself. After watching him shoot someone before I knew how dangerous guns were. When I looked at my dad the noise of the room came back. The men were laughing hysterically and my dad was looking at me with a huge smile.

I started to back away from the table and he jumped up with a very angry  look on his face and started screaming at me. He grabbed ahold of my arm and yanked me back into my chair and held me there. He grabbed the gun and shoved it into my hand. I was crying and kept saying “no” but it didn’t stop him. He shook me and threatened me until finally I put the gun to my head. I looked up at his face standing over me and saw the biggest smile that man has ever shown. As I was about to pull the trigger my life was filled with blackness. The next thing I remember is laying on my grandmothers bed crying. I’m not sure if that was days or weeks later or just hours. They refused to talk about what happened after that and I honestly didn’t want to know.

My mom came back to pick me up early that summer after I kept begging her to. No one ever told her what happened that day and I didn’t either I was too afraid. My mom had a new boyfriend and a surprise for us when we went back to South Carolina. She waited until we got back to tell us. As we were pulling into a brand new place I had never seen before, she told us that she and her boyfriend finally moved in together and this was our new home. I knew the boyfriend but not well so I was afraid. Within a week I knew the man all too well. 

When my mom was at work and we were home, since school hadn’t started back up that year, my moms boyfriend calls me into my bedroom. He closes the door behind me and goes on to tell me that I was a “bad girl” because I didn’t clean the trim on the walls in the bathroom. He sat on my bed and forced me to take off my pants and underwear. After doing so he made me lay over his lap and took off his belt and spanked me repeatedly. I cried and he picked me up and put me in bed and covered me with my blanket. He than walked out the room and I cried myself to sleep I suppose. I remember nothing else from that year. The entire year someone came out.

That following summer I finally came back. It was right before I was due to go back to visit my father and I begged my mom not to send me back. I told her he scared me and I wasn’t home long enough to go back. I went back anyways. After being there only a few days I was taken to the ER. The doctors told my grandmother (since my father refused to take me to the doctor) that I had a severe kidney infection. I had it for a while so it got so bad I could barely move. The doctors did some tests apparently and told my grandmother that there was evidence I was sexually abused. I denied everything because I couldn’t remember it. I wasn’t out for an entire year so how would I know? My Grandmother told him that I hadn’t and he continued to try and convince her other wise. Nothing was every done because I didn’t remember anything.

That was the results of my first year living with DID… Many other things happened in my life that were much worse and less severe than what I just wrote but if I were to go over every terrible thing to have ever happened to me, I fear I will be writing non stop for about 30 years before it is finished. I may continue to write more about my past in the future but I can’t say for certain and I can guarantee that I wont write everything.  The terrible things from my past don’t effect me though. I feel no pain over it, I feel nothing.

I don’t believe I ever lost a nights sleep over anything that has happened to me. I don’t believe I ever will either. I have an alter, according to my t, who blocks emotions. I have one who blocks memories but also one who is meant to protect me from the emotions I should be feeling. I know they are here to protect me but the fact that I feel nothing concerning my horrific past, makes me feel as if I’m a monster. I’m sorry for writing so much and I think I will stop now, I just needed to let some frustration out and put down the pieces of my life that I have begun to connect in case I forget them again. Or would I be better off just forgetting them forever? I don’t know but things aren’t great right now…

I am recently seeing more and more parts of my life gone. Before I was only aware of hours at most but not there are large chunks missing and I’m not sure why.

About a month ago I started thinking about my younger years. I remembered daycare before I started school. I remember what the daycare looked like inside and out, I remember story time, lunch time, washing my hands, all kinds of small things. Than from there I remember kindergarden. My teachers name was Miss Summerville. She was really pretty, tall and had BEAUTIFUL blonde hair. I got into trouble a lot there and can remember asking and begging to know what I had done wrong to be put in time out. Time out was in the tent in the back of the classroom. She taught me my ABCs and would read all of the time. She was very nice. I would also go home with report cards and on the report card she always wrote notes (as did all of my teachers) that I talked way to much and if I didn’t have anyone to talk to she would often find me talking to myself. I don’t remember this.

Than I started thinking about first grade. I got nothing. I know the name of the school I attended in first grade because it was the same school that I attended in kindergarden before I moved. But I can not remember one thing about that entire year. Not the teacher, not the school (the kindergarden class was in a small building right next door) or anything at all. It’s like the first grade is completely wiped from my memory. How can an entire year be gone? Could it be my horrible memory? I wasn’t sure so I started thinking about the rest of the grades I was in, I remember second grade because I sat next to a boy named Josh who ended up being my best friend that year. He would give me answers to the questions asked and I would get the cookie. We also made a sleigh out of popsicle sticks for christmas. The class also wrote short stories on who they admired most (I wrote about my mom) and mine was published in the news paper. We made books, mine I called “The monster in my back yard” it was hard cover and everything. It was about a monster hiding in my backyard and was so mean because he didn’t know how to read so I taught him to read and he was nice again.

I remember third grade because that was my first year in art class. I loved art class. We also in music performed a christmas musical. There was a boy in my class who would ALWAYS hit me, he would kick me, punch me and rip my hair out. When I told my teacher Mrs Alan, she never did anything at all about it. She even told me “that’s what you deserve”. She was racist against white people. Than on to fourth grade I met my teacher Mrs Boatwright. I met all of my great friends, I remember show and tell where I would bring in my unicorn collection and my posters of Hanson. I had my first boyfriend in 4th grade.

Than 5th grade with my substitute teacher… Wont get into that. My 4th grade teacher loved our class so much she requested to move up to the 5th grade and keep all of us in her class. So I was in her class again and basically the same things happened only I was placed in an advanced math class where we played math games.

I remember every grade but the first. I don’t know why. It’s like an entire year is gone from my memory. I wont go any further in what I remember in school, there is more in elementary I remember but don’t feel like going off point. So here I am with an entire year gone from my life. This has been confusing me. Than yesterday… I was talking to an old t and trying to get my old medical records. As far as I could remember I saw the t for 8 months. He was wonderful and I adored him. In the middle of seeing him I was put in the hospital and only missed one appointment. Yesterday the t told me that was not the case… I saw the t for 10 weeks straight, took a 4 month break, went to the hospital and than started seeing the t again. A 4 month break that I can not remember? I thought I didn’t miss one apointment the entire time I saw him. I don’t understand where this is coming from. Is my memory that horrible? Is it something else? Could one of the others have come out during those times? If they did for that long wouldn’t I have known?

I don’t know what is going on right now, I have VERY large chunks missing from my memory and am not sure what to make of them. If they were the others coming out, why it is that they hardly ever come out? Why would they come out for an entire year than leave me be basically for a long time after?

I feel as if I’m losing my mind. I can not wait to see my T next week! I’m hoping she can shed some light on this situation!

kris

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