Psychology and Mental Health Forum

Author:  OMNICELL [ Wed Nov 30, 2011 11:16 pm ]
Blog Subject:  Childhood at Christmas

I wrote this last night

Seems that writing here at this forum is helping allot...

I was alone from the beginning. Their was never anyone to protect me or back me up. No one. Just a fantasy bond. So many times people took advantage of me. So many times. If their is a Hell. Their will be many people in it from this time period...The people that took advantage of me. I do see them as extremely sick.

I had a childhood that I felt safe in for a few years. From about 3 1/2 to 9 or 10. It didn't last all that long. And it was slowly decompensating every year, until by the age of 10 I had lost about 65% of my faith in anything and knew things were going to get worse . I hoped the good part of my childhood would last for ever. I was on a nice street in a small town with a grade school nearby. My best friend lived down the block. I had other friends as well. They lived all over the town.

I want to say that it feels really good to tell my story. To tell what it was like and what happened.

Back to story:

One of my alters is this person. This original self. Or the Host is an alter that the child is the original me. Im not sure. I think the child is the original me. It hasn't been that long that I was diagnosed with DID. A few years. And I have not been mentally stable enough to even look at it, or remember anything.. That is slowly changing.

I began to wake up and see a sharper image of this time zone.

One of the problems is loss: When I wake up the child. The child wants to run outside the house and go play in the leaves, go visit the next door neighbor. Or get on my bike in the backyard and go ride. Or go down to lances house.

The problem: This was 40 years ago. And I am trapped their. This child in me looks at me with helplessness wondering how to get out. The world never changes in his sphere. Its always me around 7 or 8 or 9 years old. I can never get out. The whole world ended for me at that age. I was no more in a sense. And a new personality had to take over. The old one was murdered and buried.

The me that is or was present after this child died, had his handful dealing with the thrust of the present traumas at the time. Their was no time to look at what happened to this original personality.

It is impossible for anyone to stay alive from what I went through. Im not happy about that. I was dealt a set of cards that no one should have been dealt with. I did nothing to anyone. I was thrown all the way in until I was insane. I wanted to grow up like every one else. Instead I was growing toward death. I did not grow at all. I was shell shocked and multiple. That was all. A head and heart full of alters And then Dissociative disorder so bad I was witnessed by others to believe I was Schizophrenic/Pathological. I always say that I was Schyzo in one form or another because of the severity of the situation. The severity of the condition. I ended up being able to function about as well as a Schizophrenic with no meds. So whats the difference. I wasn't home either. I could not tell the difference between what was in my head and what was reality.

Those involved haven't stopped causing trouble if Im around them. They still try to take advantage of me at every opportunity. Just the Criminal nature. I would get away from them, yet the child from my childhood still begets as if everything and everyone is safe when their not.

Opening up this child opens up the memories of happiness I had. Opening up this child opens up the monsters that destroyed this child . Its always a 2 edge sword. Many times this child woke up, only to go back to sleep when the surroundings outside of myself were not the same as when young. And the world was a much different place. A brutal grey business place with no forgiveness. The child in me, in shock, would go back to sleep. No one ever cared about me. Even enough to ask me what was wrong with me. Nothing.. The coffin seemed to be my only friend. The shadow man. He Doeth commeth. He callith to me to surrender and join him on the river styx. To cross to the other side , pay the toll man. And join the dead.

I am one of the few that was found. One of the few that did the work, or was aloud to find the water springs to rejuvenate. If I thus jumped in and let the waters do their job. The waters of God that runneth over.

I don't know How I feel about it. Hatred for what happened to me. Horror and outrage from the steep climb to come out of it. Grateful to come through and start to look at things from the other side. The safer side of the mountain. not cured. Just better. Any significant growth away from the condition is a good day//

So many me' s. All fragmented parts . All broken and distorted. Yet Im in a safe zone to look at the other me's and work with them.

The goal is to wake up/

lately ive been seeing memories that I have never seen before. I think I will write a separate blog on that.

I am better then I used to be. ITs a bloody miracle. Really. Is worth more then all the bank accounts of Bill Gates trust fund... To wake up. Lots of people helping. So many years alone and destitute, walking around like a coffin. In pain..!! Tormented in Pain. Tormented in seclusion of insanity.

I remember Christmas at my Best friends house as a kid. I feel it. And am willing , and getting better at seeing it, and feeling it, and embracing it.. Because of this. It is not lost. It can happen again. To be real, to be here and now, and less afraid. To recreate or trust God to recreate a decent life again. Any life. Any life is better then where I came from.

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