Psychology and Mental Health Forum

Author:  Johnny-Jack [ Mon Sep 01, 2014 3:28 am ]
Blog Subject:  A little about Henry

Henry, a two year old who feels "lost," appeared at a restaurant in Salem, MA several months ago. He visited the body very briefly earlier this week and unlike with the others I had absolutely no sense of why he is her and a part of us. I can't tell if he's traumatized or not. He just feels lost, like he doesn't know where he is or what's going on. This is completely the norm for the first visits of new alters. They just woke up from a long sleep and as far as they know they're the age they were when they went to sleep.

I went to the same restaurant and he just came out again, no trigger. I was very dissociated after he was up front and he was in and out. We were mixed, me in front at times, but unable to function fully as myself. Thinking clear thoughts was a real challenge. Decision-making was impossible. My brain felt like cotton and it was all giving me a headache. For all my other alters, I see, hear or sense things that tip me off what happened to them or why they're here, something key about them. But Henry is just a sweet little kid, I guess, somewhere between two and three. I don't know how I'm sure about even that. He spoke to Nic a bit. But everything else is a mystery.


Author:  Johnny-Jack [ Sat Sep 27, 2014 10:50 pm ]

In therapy when bringing up Henry there was the knowing that he was triggered forward by a dog on the wall. I don't recall there being a dog but it was kind of a trendy, funky place and there were weird amoeba-like creatures on the wall walking down a hall towards the bathroom and maybe in the bathrooms? But as I recall he came forward into the body before that. I'll need to go back to that place to figure it out, and maybe learn why the dog (a cartoon?) held significance for him. It's scary to think that if we hadn't gone in there and gotten triggered, Henry might still be lost.

Author:  Johnny-Jack [ Fri Jun 17, 2016 2:56 am ]

The dog cartoon on the wall reminded him of our aunt's dog Poochey, whom we loved. Henry is our alter who came out whenever our mother lost us, wandered away in her own dissociative confusion or perhaps even lost us deliberately. He was perpetually lost because that was his job, to come out when we got lost and were left alone. He stayed calm and waited until our mother (one of her good alters) would come back and find us.

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