Something is wrong... *Possible Trigger*

**Trigger Warning: ranting, talk of wants, singing; one slight mention of family/death**

Something is wrong and I don't know what...
I feel...like I'm suffocating...and I don't know why...
I don't know what...I don't know why...I don't know how to fix whatever's wrong either...
I just...don't know....
I don't even know who I am right now, which is why I'm using a weird font color...it's mushy colored...kinda like all the colors mushed together...but they don't turn out too pretty when that happens, do they?

I can't...I don't know...ugh... I WANT TO SCREAM!
There are no words...I can't think of them...
I can't tell what emotions I feel...there's too many of them...
I want to post something but I don't know what to post...aside from this.
I want to reply to stuff but I don't know what to say...and there's so much new stuff to read I feel overwhelmed...I know I don't have to read it all but I want to...I just can't...

I want....I need.... *silent scream*
I feel like a pot of water boiling over...

There's so much...inside. So much that I don't know what's what...I know who's who but I don't know who I am right now...

There's...a need... I need something... Someone needs something...I don't even know if it's me...it could be because I don't know who I am....

Songs are so powerful.... They can hold so much...Express so much... So much more than spoken words or written words or movies or anything.... I wish I could sing....

Singers have audiences.... Everyone knows of what they sing about... Pain...Anger...Sadness...They're quoted by people, remembered by people...They give people words when they have none themselves... And everyone sees and knows what they sing, what they're singing...They learn what they've been through...They know what they've been through...

I want that. I want an audience. I want people to know. I want people to hear. I want people to see my face full of emotion. I want people to hear my emotion. I know me, I know my emotion. I want others to know. Otherwise they won't know me. They won't understand me. Ever. They need to hear. Hear so that they know. Know so that they understand. Understand me.

But I'm not selfish. They'll also understand that they're not alone. They're not alone in how they feel. In what they've been through. They're not the only ones with those emotions. Understand that even if they can't connect to anyone else, they can connect to the song, the emotion, the expression.

I mainly want the people that call themselves friends to hear. To listen. To see. To know. To understand. I don't really know what makes a friend a friend, but I've heard they should understand you. They should know you. No one knows me. Not really. No one understands. Because they haven't heard. I want them to hear. But I can't sing...

*silent scream*

No one else can either. I've heard them. Sometimes they're so close. SO CLOSE! But not there. The heart is there. The voice is not.

Story of our life. The heart is there, the talent is not. We're mediocre in everything we do. The only thing we weren't mediocre in was swimming. 8 years old, training with 13-15 year olds. But we stopped. Stopped because of bad, bad, bleeding eczema on our thighs. We didn't want to be embarrassed, didn't want to show our legs. And the water hurt. People say the stress from our mom's death caused it. It went away after 3-4 years. By that time we couldn't get back into it. Now we're mediocre again...

There's so many songs to sing....so much to express....so much practice needed to at least try to get better... But we'll never be good enough to have an audience... Not even the small one that I mainly want...

*silent scream*

Sing. Express. Be heard. Be known.
I wish I was someone like Amy Lee from Evanescence... Such a strong voice. Such a beautiful voice. I wish I had a voice. I wish the voices we use were more pretty. Were better for singing.

Gawd forbid anyone hears me sing... Actually sing... They might start thinking things....suspecting things....I don't sound the same either... I don't sound quite like me outside....I wish I had my voice....

I don't think I'm that bad.... Just deep. Kinda like Cher... Except not as good but you know, it's not like we practice and sh*t....

Who is typing?? I can see who is who inside but not who's "using" our fingers.... I don't know who comes up front or is up front.... UGH.

I think I'm going to stop rambling now, whoever(s) I am....

I'm sorry you feel so confused and.. not heard. Do you know if anything's happened in the last few hours or who was out last? Maybe find out what triggered it?

Whoever you are, you're welcome here and we care about you

I think it is wonderful that you recognize a way that you can relate to...music, lyrics, singing, expression! Maybe you don't feel confident in your voice, but maybe you can be outside or in the shower or somewhere alone and just the practice of singing is healing to those who feel about it like you do. Sometimes I feel the same way...my voice may never be what I want it to be, but I find a song that feels right....and I listen to it on youtube or make a cd and drive....and turn it up so I'm not singing alone.

I would caution you though...sometimes I have found myself listening to those songs about pain and such too much...it keeps me there. In that pain. In the sadness...and ultimately, I want to be happy. So sometimes I still 'sneak' a sad song...but mostly, I have started listening to music that uplifts me, reminds me of hope, and of movement towards something more happy.

As far as friends and feeling stuck in secrecy....I bet you will find a way to navigate this so that you tell what you need, as you (and maybe they) are ready. Until then...you still have us here. We will listen. We won't judge. We will (with permission...) love you just as you are. All of you. Be well, my friend.

(Swan/Owl) I am really, truly glad that you posted this. Because I feel like every single thing you have said resonates deep inside. I feel the same way. So much so. I feel like something is wrong/off/missing, but have no clues to find out what it is. There are moments when I can't switch/feel/see my alters, and I am someone, but I don't know who. Am I myself? Am I an alter? Who am I?

I also deeply identify with wanting people to know. Sometimes we get terrified that we will (Trigger Warning) die and no one will know the real us. (end Trigger warning) My friends don't know I have DID. Sometimes I feel like I have no friends, which is sad, because there are lots of people who want to be my friend, but I feel like I am constantly lying to them, or that, if they knew the real me(s plural) that they wouldn't want to be my friend any more; that they would think badly of me.

My parents don't know. I fear if I told them, my dad would think I was a failure, and my mom would think she is a failure as a parent. I don't have the strength to deal with them feeling those feelings. I can't separate myself from their stress.

I also want to sing. I do sing, only when I'm alone (driving in my car, or home alone etc.) Do it, even if you think you're not great. Practice will improve you, it has us. We don't know if or when we will sing for someone else, but we hope to do so someday.

(fox) learn to love what makes your voice yours. what makes it unique, makes it beautiful and special. Your voice is a part of you, tend to it, cherish it, and you will be pleased with the results.

I would caution you though...sometimes I have found myself listening to those songs about pain and such too much...it keeps me there. In that pain. In the sadness...and ultimately, I want to be happy. So sometimes I still 'sneak' a sad song...but mostly, I have started listening to music that uplifts me, reminds me of hope, and of movement towards something more happy.

We have tried the same with exceptions. We tried not listening to any sad music for most of the alters and only using the sad music for expression during very bad time for others. It really did help lift many of ours moods in the long run even though music is a huge part of our system and ways of expression. We fall back to listening to sad songs not too long ago but I know Nin's considered the same "ban" again from time to time to see if it might help again. It was an interesting experiment at least. For me that used to listen to only profoundly deep, depressive music it was a big change but after a bit of searching I found the same type of music that I liked with more positive lyrics (which is what I care about in song) and it ended up being relatively doable with time.

Thanks for the replies, guys. (I'm not the best at expressing appreciation and sh*t).

Would anyone like to own up to this, or are you going to make us play detective and figure it out via grunt work?

I'll own up to my part:

tomboy24 wrote:Story of our life. The heart is there, the talent is not. We're mediocre in everything we do. The only thing we weren't mediocre in was swimming. 8 years old, training with 13-15 year olds. But we stopped. Stopped because of bad, bad, bleeding eczema on our thighs. We didn't want to be embarrassed, didn't want to show our legs. And the water hurt. People say the stress from our mom's death caused it. It went away after 3-4 years. By that time we couldn't get back into it. Now we're mediocre again...

That was mainly me. Not really my word choices, but then again, wasn't fully me I don't think.

tomboy24 wrote:I don't even know who I am right now, which is why I'm using a weird font color...it's mushy colored...kinda like all the colors mushed together...but they don't turn out too pretty when that happens, do they?

I'm gonna take a wild guess and say this is what might've happened with this post. We all just kinda smushed together, like colors, but the result wasn't too pretty. I dunno if we smushed together so much as all of us having a hand on the controls or something either, but whatever.

lifelongthing wrote:Do you know if anything's happened in the last few hours or who was out last? Maybe find out what triggered it?

Cassandra was out last, I think. But we were all kinda "there", just in the background, you know? We were watching CSI, a crime show, with our aunt and grandma. It was about a pyro who'd been abused. Maybe that set us off. He used fire to be heard/noticed.

tomboy24 wrote:I don't really know what makes a friend a friend, but I've heard they should understand you. They should know you. No one knows me. Not really. No one understands. Because they haven't heard. I want them to hear. But I can't sing...

*silent scream*

No one else can either. I've heard them. Sometimes they're so close. SO CLOSE! But not there. The heart is there. The voice is not.

I'm gonna take another wild f*#king guess and say most of this post was from Shay. This just screams "Shay" to me. 'Specially later on when the post goes on to say "I wish I had a voice". Shay's mute so... can't sing. Guess she's tired of hearing us try to sing, too. Man, I didn't think I was that bad.

doe-eyed wrote:My friends don't know I have DID. Sometimes I feel like I have no friends, which is sad, because there are lots of people who want to be my friend, but I feel like I am constantly lying to them, or that, if they knew the real me(s plural) that they wouldn't want to be my friend any more; that they would think badly of me.

My parents don't know. I fear if I told them, my dad would think I was a failure, and my mom would think she is a failure as a parent. I don't have the strength to deal with them feeling those feelings. I can't separate myself from their stress.

We got tired of hiding so finally we said "f*#k it, if they can't handle it, then we don't need them as a friend". Yeah, we still got friends who don't know and sh*t, but they're not close friends, you know? They're like ex-coworker friends, friends who we only party with, friends who are more like acquaintances, sh*t like that. Actual friends, well, if they can't handle us then they're not really our friend. Least that's how I see it.

Cassandra's father doesn't know jack sh*t. Well, he knows more than he did before we got taken away and put into counseling, but not much more. She's tested the waters before with him, you know, discussed the DID subject as a subject, not as something personal (her dad loves discussions, debates, controversial sh*t, etc).
He seems to think that **TRIGGER WARNING** DID personalities are demons possessing a person, you know, the devil trying to put distance/distractions between the person and God and sh*t **END TRIGGER WARNING**.
So...yeah. He probably won't know the truth for a while yet, if ever.

Piece of advice for you, Doe-eyed: Your parents are adults, they can take care of themselves and handle sh*t themselves. You're not responsible for how they react, how they handle sh*t. That's all on them, whether they make good choices or bad, have good reactions or bad, that's ALL ON THEM. Not you. You're not your parents' caretaker, they don't need a babysitter, and it's not on you to protect them from the truth. It's a hard lesson to learn, Cassandra still hasn't quite learned it, but it's true. And once you stop babying everyone around you, you'll feel a lot more free and a lot better. Maybe not right away, but in the long run, absof*#kinglutely. ('Course, sh*t like this should be done on your own time, so I'm not trying to rush you or anything. Just trying to make sure you realize this, 'cause it'll help you when the time comes).


Wow, look at me. Babbling on here just like Cassandra or Rain. Oh well. Suppose it doesn't harm anything to babble now and then.

-KAT

Kat - I didn't want to overstep any bounds by suggesting this, but do you think some of the mixed emotions and confusion has come due to your other post (you mention Grandmother just finding out...) Just wondering if it may have been part of it. There is a LOT of emotion that goes into telling... the anxiety, fear, apprehension, then possibly relief, cautious optimism/hope...and wanting/needing to be believed and accepted.

I did want to say that went through the accusations *relgious trigger* of my son being 'possessed'. we dispelled it. Bible says demons know of God...but can't say Jesus is Lord. Not even as a statement...or so that is what the person who was accusing believes. I never made/asked the alters to say it...but I did challenge that person who says that the evil one is about destroying things...and my son's alters are not. **end trigger*

Everyone works for the GOOD of the system; the angry or (violent) ones have come to be known that they are exactly the way they needed to be to protect my son. To survive. Deep down though, they were created before he was 10 yrs old. They are all wounded children. And once we started treating them with compassion, empathy, love....they all came around to wanting what is best for all of them (meaning no self-harm, no death threats, etc) Safety. Caring. Cooperation. Demons don't care for those things. That explanation had to be enough for the person who questioned. Because I love them, I gave them that explanation. Because I respect them. To their credit, they accepted it.

Sometimes it is just about education...getting down to why they think that. Explaining DID . . . taking the 'mysticism' and media-generated stereotypes out of it can help. Sorry to get off on a tangent there...I just know it was difficult for us to be accused of that out of the person's ignorance (and misplaced concern...) Take care!

I'll own up to my part.

tomboy24 wrote:I don't think I'm that bad.... Just deep. Kinda like Cher... Except not as good but you know, it's not like we practice and sh*t....

~L.C.


Cool. Eventually we'll get this sh*t figured out.

HopeIsHere: It could've been. But this happened a day (or two?) after we'd told our grandma. Though it might've been a mixture of the CSI episode and telling our grandma.

**Trigger Warning, mentions religion**
As far as Cassandra's father goes, he's the type of dumb@$$ who can be educated day and night and he'll still hold on to his beliefs. Granted, I'm sure there's more that we could f*#king educated him on, but Cassandra's too scared to try and she won't let me try (mainly 'cause I'd educate him with my fist). Besides, when he gets into that religious mindset, there's really no breaking him of it. (He has weird bouts where he'll be super religious and think that everything's tied to God and the devil and sh*t, and then bouts where it's just life. He still believes in God, he just doesn't find a way to explain everything via God and the devil). I'm pretty f*#king certain that if there was any chance he'd actually open his f*#king eyes and see the truth, it'd have to be with the aid of a T.

His suggestion that, essentially, we were demons, had a profound effect on the nightmare brat, Cassidy. She came out one night, bawling her eyes out because her "daddy" had called her "a demon". It was the first time Mike and everyone else got to see that despite being extremely f*#king disturbed, she's still 8 years old and she's still a kid. It was also the first time we got to realize that she can hear us, since she wasn't anywhere near being "out" that night so she couldn't have heard it then. She must've heard it from one of the times I was discussing it with Rain or something. Anyway, it kinda brought a lot to light about Cassidy, so I guess maybe some good sh*t came out of it.
**End Trigger**

Kinda nice to know that we aren't the only ones who'll (probably) have to go through that, though. So thanks for sharing.

-KAT

tomboy24 wrote:I feel...like I'm suffocating...and I don't know why...

I WANT TO SCREAM!
There are no words...I can't think of them...


*silent scream*


Songs are so powerful.... They can hold so much...Express so much... So much more than spoken words or written words or movies or anything.... I wish I could sing....

Singers have audiences.... Everyone knows of what they sing about... Pain...Anger...Sadness...They're quoted by people, remembered by people...They give people words when they have none themselves... And everyone sees and knows what they sing, what they're singing...They learn what they've been through...They know what they've been through...

I want that. I want an audience. I want people to know. I want people to hear. I want people to see my face full of emotion. I want people to hear my emotion. I know me, I know my emotion. I want others to know. Otherwise they won't know me. They won't understand me. Ever. They need to hear. Hear so that they know. Know so that they understand. Understand me.


I mainly want the people that call themselves friends to hear. To listen. To see. To know. To understand. I don't really know what makes a friend a friend, but I've heard they should understand you. They should know you. No one knows me. Not really. No one understands. Because they haven't heard. I want them to hear. But I can't sing...

*silent scream*

No one else can either. I've heard them. Sometimes they're so close. SO CLOSE! But not there. The heart is there. The voice is not.


There's so many songs to sing....so much to express....so much practice needed to at least try to get better... But we'll never be good enough to have an audience... Not even the small one that I mainly want...

*silent scream*

Sing. Express. Be heard. Be known.
I wish I was someone like Amy Lee from Evanescence... Such a strong voice. Such a beautiful voice. I wish I had a voice. I wish the voices we use were more pretty. Were better for singing.

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tomboy24 wrote:I'll own up to my part.

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my part

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