u/TwoFriedFishsticks

If shit reeks, why do you keep sucking ass? 😔💔

Let the man have his grippy sock girlfriend. Let him be whimsical for a bit

Our brains are so funny. It does all sorts of gymnastics to keep us safe, even if it takes a while for us to see what it all is for real.

For example, I distinctly remember being about 14-15 and having to spend a lot of time home alone. This shit was terrifying and I was so paranoid. Makes sense if you know the way I grew up + the fact that I was still getting told that 'my abusers were watching my every step, through the window, through the curtains'.

At one point, I had told myself that I can no longer do this. I was so scared, I felt unreal, unalive. I said I should "pretend I'm somebody else. Like a method actor, I gotta embody them, gaslight myself into becoming them". Deep inside, there'd always lurked my brave, unafraid 'Lara Croft' or 'tough female police investigator'. It wasn't easy, but over time, through my 'actinh', this side would come forward and my terrified, paranoid side would recede. 🤠

Little did I know I was facilitating (or maybe even directing) my own new splits. For years, I shrugged it off as me having been silly. But how silly was it really when according to our internal world lore, our ex-Host was first a scared Little... then a post-war hollow, ghostly Teen... before stepping up as a active, fiery Protector... and eventually becoming an all-seeing Host who dedicated her life to keeping us all cared for and safe? 😃

"Dad, this is getting embarrassing. Please get it together."

• One of my teens to his Dad

He started (BPD) splitting and no ome could get a grip on him. It was driven by some underlying survivor's guilt tied to having witnessed the attempted murder of his partner/kid's mother by other parts. 🥺 He 100% means well. He's a teen, he's clumsy, butgebtle-hearted. And he also knows regular empathy can only do so much💀

I feel like I'm somewhere in between... I was first diagnosed with ADHD and autism, so I already got used to words like dissociate and other trauma-related vocab (esp. since there's discourse on the connection between growing up 'persecuted' and C-PTSD). For years, I've also been writing, and despite having 0 awareness of my 'system', I always knew I was split or fragmented in some way at least. With no one there to help or make sense of it all, I had to develop my own tools; a personalized vocabulary was part of that.

You wanna know what the first few words were? Entity, aspect and essence + the idea that I wasn't really me, but just an hollow, tethered, observing shell sitting at the end of the Throne Room.

Later, after I learnt about my DID, I adopted the clinical terms for accurate communication with the outside world, or as a starting point for my own research. But otherwise? I just stick to what makes sense to me. Some have real names, others descriptors which help keep track of them... The ones invested in this stuff do it for a degree of order in this cacaphony-goop. Others don't really give a hoot.

Also, I know many people hate the romanticisation of a disorder, but it's something I personally need in order to feel any love for myself. Their origin is pain, but my brain took it and used all it got to turn their existence into something extraordinary, unfathomable. To use clinical terms exclusively would be to strip away any of that peculiar beauty (and the power of my mind is the only sense of identity I have left.)

I'm very much: "My dollhouse, my rules. You can make suggestions, but I'm eventually the one who's gotta play with 'em."

I have two inseparable alters of which I always said: "If she, the current Host, died, he'd be gone too. There's no way around it. They're each other's balance, two sides of the same coin." And it had me afraid for a while, because what if... what if... what if... 😣

Lo and behold, a week ago, my sweet female Host collapsed and hit the very end of her rope, got overpowered and attacked by unfamiliar alters wishing to eliminate her and the physical body. For 2 hours she fought them off, but with no other alters coming to help (they didn't know how), she was beyond exhausted. I remember barely being able to speak, but I'd mumble his name and finally he appeared. Not only my mind was 'split', but my body control as well: if it weren't for him taking control of my non-dominant hand and keeping my head up high, I wouldn't have been able to breathe.

And when everything ebbed away, I remember him soothing me, stroking my hair and telling her that she did well and that she'll be fine, but that she must take respite. He promised her that it's temporary and that she could return once recovered, and that until then she had to go snooze in the background.

These days I can see her sit in the centre of my vision, close to me... like she's reclining on a bed somewhere between just-awake and almost-asleep. And she seems so quiet and small, very patient and trusting of my capabilities, very glad I didn't push her out entirely. She's my little spectator - I still listen to her advice as I'm navigating a degree of control I've never had over this body. And while the body doesn't reflect my gender, I know she's the one to take the most pride in it, so it's my duty to take care of it until she returns.

At night, I sleep holding a pillow to my side, an arm wrapped around - it's the closest thing to feeling like she's still right next to me. She's amazing, I adore her, and it's breaking my heart knowing she never knew this while she was keeping us alive for years.

I'm sorry for being so sappy 🥺🥺 I think this is the first time I said so much about her without feeling ashamed (to the outside world)

I used to have repetitive dreams... always the same coming back, clearly with some sort of hidden messages. They felt a lot like 1960s surrealistic movies. I just assumed that it was my subconscious reporting on my true state of mind.

However, I couldn't let go of some of the symbolism and metaphors displayed... strange, because I had no real world ties to any of it. Later it turned out that these were avenues for waking alters to communicate through. Too quiet for me to feel they were there, but too awake for them to try not to reach out.

As far as I can tell, those alters confirmed that those dreams were tools, a method of communication, and that even if they were to appear in real form, that this was nothing more than a type of 'astral projection'. They recognize their dream form might've been different, surreal, imperfect, etc. Makes sense, because their purpose wasn't to emulate - it was to communicate whatever niche message.

Until I was able to have a proper sit down with the 'true ones', I worked with their dream form and its inherent distortion. I took their message with a grain of salt, and everything else with a handful of it.

Don't worry, all will be well. 😊 Try to record things, take it easy and trust that many exist to take care of you.

Ah, thank you for your reply!

In my notes, I've described a category called Codex Alters whose essence is much closer to a force upholding cosmic laws. They're in contrast to regular, rational, thinky alters because on surface level, they don't care about me and make 0 attempts to provide counsel that serves me first. They just relay 'how things should be' and that's unquestionable. Since I can recognize the majority are a product of my mind, they're within my control and can be sent away. However, the one I described feels like it wasn't split, but was rather injected and spliced onto my mind. And it's set on torturing me. 💀

At times of distress, I'm forced to observe the 'Table of Cards' frame and am locked into this state of obsessive calculating and prediction-making. It's not a place I can enter - it represents a process or concept sorta? At some point I'm forced to observe the 'Scaffold' frame and I have to submit to it and accept that I'm going to get hurt in the process of doing what's best for everybody else. But ofc my mind doesn't want that so it'll try to switch back to the Table of Cards to continue finding better solutions... It's a lot of back-and-forth until the calculations are exhausted and the 'Scaffold' frame finally rips me away. And it's extremely terrifying, because I basically must accept that I'll suffer greatly either way.

It doesn't matter whether you dare to call it 'rape' out loud. A sensible man would be able to recognize that on his own. Sex with someone who looks anything but super enthused, should've rang his alarm bells. But he's either emotionally stunted and never saw it, or he did and now says "oh but you've been so detached as a whole lately, I didn't think much of it", which is just isn't right either.

He crossed your boundaries the first time. You said yes to oral, never to more, and the first was already you having caved to the guilt and shame imposed upon you to begin with. And everything from there on? You've only continued to hollow yourself out for someone who doesn't seem to put in the effort to make you feel back fulfilled.

Sweetheart, a man who loves you in his right mind should never be comfortable with tears streaming down your eyes. And I can tell. For 8 years I was married to a man whom I loved so much, but over time got so selfish and detached, he forgot to love me and see me as more than just the object of his pornographic desires. For years I sobbed my heart out and I'd be afraid of every touch, because it'd always come with the hope of 'more'; I'd count the days since we had had sex, telling myself I should psych up and just force myself to do it so I wouldn't be a bad partner; I hated how I made him feel like crap, because apparently denying him ruined his confidence and self-esteem, etc.

But at the end of the day, I was the one so afraid, always crying... so much guilt, shame and embarrassment... I tried to give so much, but it was never enough... until this day, there's certain sexual acts I can't give/receive because I've been so deeply scarred.

And I told myself I should try to fix things, try to stick together, because it was all my fault, right? Of course it wasn't. Because how could I ever again trust the man who so carelessly trampled all over my boundaries? So many times I'd begged him not to verbally humiliate me... it was the tool my abusers used against me... don't call me a sl-t or a nasty brainwashed c-mdump. But he still did, and shrugged it off as him being forgetful or too in the moment. But none of that matters. Whatever safety I once felt, they'd long razed, and the love I said I still wanted to save, had also long become nothing more than pure desperation. Because we're used to being the one to fix, so used to hollowing out ourselves to please the other, because that's what's always been expected of us.

It's scary to realize you've been erasing yourself this much. But it makes sense. How could you have known when the idea of the 'self' was stretched so thinly to begin with?

Be compassionate with yourself. You're allowed to feel hurt, you're allowed to be mad. Take care 🫂

(Ps. I'm sorry if this is incoherent. Talking about it still brings up a lot of pain, so I didn't dare proofreading)

TW: SA

It sounds like both of you had very different reactions to something that was never within your control. An outsider violated your boundaries, not you, not him - so having beef with each other technically makes no sense. Passing the blame around when it was neither of you who asked to be hurt. You both deserve compassion.

I had an alter who was largely responsible for bullying, harassing and shaming me. Often to the point of throwing up or paralysis. I hated him and I didn't understand why he'd beat me up when I'd fail him or others. However, a few months ago when I got SA'd, I heard him scream so loud. At first I had chosen fear, then fawn because of one of my Child alters, which then got replaced by an adult rational one who recognized that the only option was to choose friend. This persecutor screamed so loud, condemning the adult for negating all that'd validate it as SA, which only made it worse. It f-ed me up so badly. Later I came to understand that the Child and adult did what they thought was best and whatever would keep me safest. As for the persecutor, I realized that he didn't intent to just beat me up - he noticed a fault and wanted to help in order to protect me as well.

And like night and day, my perception of him changed. I saw an alter that was very hurt and actually very affectionate - he 100% felt like an embittered adolescent who just wanted to feel like his existence mattered. I went into dialogue with him and god, he was so snappy and guarded at first, totally hiding behind his unbothered, emotionless guy facade. But after a while, I'd notice him hanging around more leisurely, appearing at once when I'd call for him and he'd crack little jokes and peacock around when I was proud of him. After some trial and error, I managed to give him a new responsibility as well. I said: "if you're going to put such passion into being a PITA, how about you redirect it into something more positive?". And this is how his newly split alter eventually got recognized as my Sentinel 🥳

So yeah... talk to your alters, try to understand why they act the way they do. Don't just call behaviors good or bad. Our worlds are far too complex for labels like that. At the time he did what he thought was right just like you do now. It's all relative. Be compassionate. Every single one of you need a big hug.

Ps. try to think about the 'intimidating' part. Why does he think it's too much and why would you have to change? Sure, he's trying to protect you from further harm, but what is it exactly that solidified idea? For all you know, there's nothing wrong with your body, but all with the perception others choose to have of you

I act out my conversations. I go with the flow... pace around the room... talk 'to the wall' where I see my Internal World projected like an augmented reality... and I let my body hold itself the way it wants to... say the things it wants to say...

Not all Alters will go along. Some will remain quiet, others will actively talk back, but remain a voice in my head. A handful allow me the switch perspectives in a split second. Always co-conscious, co-fronting with my Autistic Magic Mommy Moderator lol.

I used to think I was just a great improv actor, but the convos I was having were really the ones I did with my Alters 💀 I can tell by the way my eyes dart all over the place and systematically too! Wherever they rest, is where a specific Alter sits.

Just keep on communicating. When communication stops, all things are doomed to fall apart.

And remember that people with DID are still people, and they're still capable of potentially exhibiting harmful, abusive behavior. Your C-PTSD will have you drawn to the shared trauma, their complexity, maybe their desire for someone to be 'the container' for their fragmented self, or your need to be the person no one ever was for past-you... But that never ought to be at the cost of your sanity. Take care and I wish you the best! 🫂

Sincerely, a person who's been hollowed out by others too many times

TW: SH, RA

Personally, I can only name alters or parts I've engaged with enough. It's kinda like meeting 'a friend of a friend' who you could have a good chat at the bar with, but whose name or face you'll never remember due to the short-lived 'exposure' of them. You'll remember their presence, existence, ... but that's it.

As for the ones that do have names... the nature of that name depends on their relationship with 'me' (idk who's fronting most of the time lol).

(--*) If they're alters capable of (co-)fronting, then they are much more humanized: they either bear human names or their function/role. The latter is typically applicable for the various sub-alters /within/ an alter.

Let's say one of those them is called... Dirk (?). Then I'll see Dirk as a humanoid entity, but relatively bland personality-wise until I 'look inside them' and distinguish the very distinct parts within. The Therapist and the Rebel might be the names of those sub-alters, respectively embodying the role of a calm, compassionate, but rational listener, and that of a passionate, but brutally honest ride-or-die protector.

Compare it to the concept of the goddess Hecate who manifests as the Mother, the Maiden and the Crone. 1 entity, 3 roles.

(--*) Parts that never/rarely front, and are either incomplete, unstudied, embody a very specific idea, or were never created by me to begin with, get non-human names.

The part responsible for self-punishment, an alter created by an abuser and embodying their conditioning, could be called 'Judgment'. For me this exists as a sub-system too, I can 'look inside' of it and distinguish multiple parts.

An alter embodying pure rage, hatred, the desire to inflict pain and harm without care for its consequences could be a vague spectre called The Sadist. Very impersonal because it's been curb-stomped into the shadows LOL

(--*) Alters can evolve. I had a non-fronting, but co-conscious part that used to be responsible for bullying and harrassing me, and encouraging me to engage in immoral behaviors. Calling them Mischief was 100% the right fit.

However, as I studied them more and I discovered they're really just an immature, maladjusted tw*t with attention issues, this alter became less 2D. I recognized their sub-parts and we tried to have them take pride in their jobs. Those sub-parts got names like The Sentry, The Liaison, etc.

(--*) Animal alters are just called by their species for me.

How do I find the /right/ name? I don't know, sometimes you're strangely drawn to a word and whatever you try, it never leaves your mind. Other times it starts out with a silly placeholder name and if the part isn't particularly conscious or just doesn't give a hoot, it sticks. I got one called The Workhorse which has the consciousness of a 2x4, capable of eating bread and making tea at most lol.

Not sure if this is 100% what you were looking for, but I know the struggle of: "am I psychotic or do I just have a strong fantasy?" Turns out, neither. It'll require you to be vulnerable and look inwards, try to observe them like little test objects lol. I know they're me and I am them, and because of that there's nothing to be truly afraid of. It'll all make sense. This is me, all of it - I just gotta unveil it.

(Edit to fix the formatting)