Hello everyone! Here is another post that I wonder if anyone can relate to?

Now I have recognized that I do have some good qualities as I began to understand and rebuild myself but I find that I have also exploited these qualities in the past, distant and and not so distant. At I times I have even justified my actions with these qualities for example talking myself out of returning a phone call from my mother, I'll tell myself that attending to my life changes are more important, I can't disrupt this noble and righteous work, then anger will justify the frustration of having to make these life changes then ill hold her responsible for my current emotional and mental struggles. Ill think she doesn't deserve to speak with me, she deserves to suffer like me, she should be punished. (I know very immature, Its as if bpd is one the more extreme symptoms of immaturity)

Or my sadness will justify my depression after acknowledging how sensitive I am. For an example I'll use avoiding my mothers call again, I'll think to myself that I deserve to be alone for all the stress and pain I have caused others, that there is so much growth that needs to transpire before I can effectively communicate with anyone. That I don't have anything worth saying, that I don't want to worry anyone with my issues and ineptitude. (Really I'm just removing a level of responsibility and accountability over my own actions that I believe I'm too exhausted for, too depressed to invest my energy in to)
This is where My Fear interjects sometimes, creating thoughts like I would just embarrass myself if I try to educate or inform my mother on my current condition because I don't really know myself like i once believed I did, I'll sound uninformed to her, like I'm not trying to change, or I'm not taking the growth that needs to transpire seriously enough. (The shame would be too much to bear apparently is what Im thinking here, once again I see myself hiding from a level of responsibility because of the fear of emotional shame, which is related to heightened level of emotional sensitivity leaving me fearful of many personal and social situations/confrontations)

Another thing I have become recently hip to is the projection of these insecurities on he world. What I believe people are thinking about me or fear that they may be thinking, really are just what i deep down think about myself. And it does not stop at people i project my demeanor on to all things, in my eyes the world has become as tumultuous as my soul, A place where joy does not exist only struggle and heartache. I believe by improving my perception of self my projection on to the world will also improve, my perception of the world will improve and i will see the beauty of life again.

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.

so, i was about 12 when all of this had happened. it started with a prank where my friend dared me to pretend to be this girls boyfriend online (i am a female). i wanted to stop the prank but my friend forced me to keep going and get nudes from the girl we pranked. the girl ended up sending them andy i ended the prank kinda rudely. i said “there’s a hot girl at school bye.” the girl we pranked ended up not going to school the next day and i thought nothing of it. a while later and i was with the friend i pranked. that friend and i were playing truth or dare. she had dared me to do things like twerk in my underwear, take my shirt off and show my boobs. then, i dared her to lick my vagina. she ended up doing just that. she was trying to get me to lick her but i said no. her mom ended up somehow finding out and guys at school were saying that i made that girl lick me. instinctively i knew she told people even though she swore she didn’t. my mom was told everything by her mom and we had a meeting with the four of us. i apologized and th girl apologized. we hung out and played air hockey after. then i was at school and a police officer handcuffed me and said that that girls mom called him and told him everything. (keep in mind this is after the four of us met and talked and me and that friend actually hung out a few times.). so this police officer had told me that i committed crimes like: child pornography, cyber bullying, and sexual harassment. i was crying and he said i was fake crying. he also told me i could go to juvenile hall. apparently the friends mom didn’t want to file charges or go to court so i don’t get the point of telling a police officer. i am just very worried that this will prevent me from getting a job and going to college. the police officer said that my friend AND her mom talked before calling the police. i talked to my friend and she claims she never heard a word about it. she was actually at a foster home at the time because her mom got really mad at her. so technically the mother could get in trouble. i have been scared of police ever since this. i just need help and comfort. i was only 12 and i was exploring. and i’m still scared today.

I am Rose, an alter of Anna. She is 15, I am 16. I am always with her, watching, observing what happens. I control her memories and what she remembers. I know all of her memories from the very beginning, and I can, at times, come out to act as a co-Host. I know everything she's gone through , and I act as a leader between all of the alters. I can, at times, control who it is that comes forward. I am their manager and leader. Rage is the hardest to control, because she can draw a line of destruction whenever and wherever she is. She is filled with bottled up anger and rage that was never dealt with all our life. Should I be scared? No, she's only trying to protect our system. I feel more afraid of Echo, because he's always crying and I'm scared that he'll one day give into the darkness.

Everyone thinks that they suffer alone from our schizophrenia, but we all suffer from it equally. Even Anna suffers from it, seeing and hearing people as if she were on acid. Rae is only angered and annoyed, but Brian, whom is the most affected by it, is made to feel even more afraid than he already is all the time. Brian is a moderately autistic 18 year old with the mind of a 5 year old. He enjoys wearing shorts and faded salmon shirts. He fears everyone and everything. He is the most affected because he is so young mentally and is suffering from autism.

Brian was made in the hospital, after being restrained for days. Rae was made after being in the inpatient psychiatric unit for a month. Rage was made from years of bottled up rage. Echo was made from an event Anna went through while she was only nine; thus, the reason that Echo is permanently nine. I was made, as a mute, mature girl, from years of being told not to speak about the horrors I've faced.

I am Hartlepool_lad, I have tried to type my experience on the blog about seven or eight times but each time I have erased it, the abusive voice in my head yells at me that no one is interested in my story and that I am alone, pathetic and other words that have been planted in my mind which I don't wish to reveal at the moment.

My systematic mental and physical destruction was to start almost immediately, I couldn't call or meet friends I had to explain where I'd been why I'd had to go there and what I had been doing while there and who had I spoken to, my phone and internet were checked as were my texts and e-mails. Bank account details were demanded and checked almost daily and a reason had to be forthcoming if I had withdrawn money, receipts were checked if I had paid for anything with my card, I was cut off from contacting family as she would put it “this is the only family that matters to you now” this was being constantly shored up with abuse of the type that I was crap at what I do, a useless person and painful insults that I can only shudder at now, I was verbally abused everyday, physically abused every day, I have been beaten, punched, kicked, humiliated, stabbed, had buckets of hot bleach thrown over me her aggression hightened if the house wasn't clean enough the dish washer hadn't been emptied or the ironing hadn't been done exactly how she wanted, constant accusations of infidelity, squandering money, being a useless person.

Then the torture of previous relationships started, I was given full and frank details of all the one night stands she'd had, I was informed by an ex friend of hers that she'd had threesomes and multiple encounters in one weekend.

She would regale me with the sordid details of these encounters and once estimated she'd had in excess of two hundred that she could remember and not counting the drunken one night stands she couldn't, all the while telling me that I was worthless, useless, a crap person etc.

It all came to a head in September 2005 when after months and years of such brutal torment the stress levels had reached such levels that my brain shut down for three days, I didn't know who I was, anything about myself, what I did for a job, my past anything.

I was diagnosed with P.T.S.D. Dissociative Amnesia, severe depression, social phobia and I have lost everything, my memories of my life are just shadows, the event is, as always right at the front of my eyes, she still haunts my mind and still continues to influence me inside my head, I have no respite.

Hartlepool_lad.