Category Archives: Life Today

Still Quiet


About nine years ago already was my first flashback.  It only consisted of two hands and arms of a boy wrestling with me to hold me down.  This flashback was triggered by my husband being affectionate with me.   I could not see anything other than two hands and forearms.  My eyes were open, but I could not see my husband.  I couldn’t see anything other than these two half arms pinning me down – or trying to.  I was moaning while my husband held me but I was reliving childhood, fighting a boy.  It took my husband a few times of asking “What’s going on?” while he was holding me before I could get a good grip on reality.

Our third child was only a baby at the time and we were living with my parents.  Needless to say life was stressful.  My initial reaction was to finally think I was actually abused at some point during childhood – but probably only one time and that’s why I had forgotten it.  Four years later I had my next flash back involving a satanic ritual where some man was wearing an animal head with horns.  Between my first and second flashback I absolutely POUNDED my brain for memories!  And, yeah, I did get quite a few memories, but what I recalled back then did not paint the picture which is before me presently.  The memories I retrieved were choppy and didn’t make sense.  They didn’t fit together.  In fact the truth was still being furiously protected.  I was more willing to believe a new lie, just to protect myself from the truth.

One good thing about the various ideas I had about my past was that even though I may not have been completely accurate to begin with – the exploration helped me to become capable of handling the truth.  Much of what I retrieved initially was actually correct, but some of it was not.  Now that I can see more of the whole picture – I am ok with having been wrong at times.

It is knowing that I am not perfect and can interpret things incorrectly at times that helped me to keep all of this crap to myself for so darn long!  From the very beginning my goal was to keep the commandments.  One in particular I have done my best to keep is to not bare false witness.  Knowing there was no substantial proof to bring forward allowing me to say, “See… See it now!  My uncle did this!!” all I could do was keep it inside.  I never went up to anybody accusing them of abuse.  But, you know what, I never had to.  Asking questions to try and figure out if any of this was worth pursuing was enough to break the family apart.

That was all I needed to move forward, at least within myself.  As long as I have no proof or witnesses to support my lonely word I can not go to my family.  This is just me, other people and families are in different positions.  My family is not in danger by my keeping this to myself.  But, the danger of divulging what I discovered is much much more severe.  Maybe that is just the programming though.  Either way most people in my family wouldn’t believe any of this and if anybody did it would cause so much strife.  I have told who I needed to tell what I needed to tell.

It is hard to keep this to myself – to be so anonymous.  So many times the intense compulsion to open up to my brothers or anybody else in my family nearly won out over sense.

So many times the burden of this trial made me cry out to just reprogram me – let me forget what I remember!!  But, I have hope and faith that one day I will be able to open up to my family.  At that point the burden, the cross may seem to be put down for a moment and transformed into a new burden.

The point is, patience has served very useful so far.  If I had told people years ago they would have only heard my immediate interpretation of these memories which really was a very narrow scope.  I understand now that there is SOOOO much more going on.  The most important understanding of the past didn’t come until after I was accepting of the few shocking memories that came back.  Looking back at the journey so far I would have stopped a long time ago had my husband not supported me in healing.  If one or two people even mentioned disbelief before I was strong enough psychologically to defend what I know now is true it would have made me crumble and give up.

So keep praying, put one foot in front of the other every day – and before you know it there is a lot of healing behind you.


Accepting the Worst


When I began writing about coming to terms with having multiple personalities/dissociative identity disorder about a year ago or so the idea of accepting that there has been a BIG chunk of my life that I did not know anything about has been a struggle.  The idea that so much could have been done in my life and yet, I haven’t known it – it’s hard to accept.  I mean, I remembered hanging out with my friends like all the time.  But when they would make comments suggesting that they were not with me like I thought – I dismissed them as being crazy.  So – I had NO clue that any abuse was happening or that I had a bunch of other personalities handling the abuse.

For memories of abuse to be so well removed from my own memory means these memories are pretty horrible.  The memories of what was done are so horrible – really it is not something anybody wants to fantasize about.

Sometimes, acceptance is so far down recovery road that just acknowledging we are victims of a certain genre of abuse can be overwhelming to the point of nausea and passing out.  While I read passing out from recovering traumatic memories is extremely rare, there is one type of abuse that would make me extremely sick and pass out at the mere mention of it.  It has taken more than a year to come to terms with the idea this was possible before I could talk to my husband without getting sick over it.

Other memories can be entirely confusing because – I’m a catholic girl, and would really like to be a good catholic woman and frankly – I personally would never do these things (relating to satanic ritual abuse) in a million years under any condition.  The idea that any part of me could have been programmed or abused into following their orders has also been tough to accept.

God’s Divine and Infinite Mercy – as long as I am willing to say I am sorry, then I can be confident in His forgiveness!  Praying the Divine Mercy chaplet really helped me look at the horrible memories that God was shining His light on.  Also, I can not stress enough:

Pray that God will help you to know and accept the truth!

There is only one truth.  1 truth about my life and I ask God who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life to help me have the courage to know and accept this in my life.

Try to accept the worst.  Open your mind, loosen the hardened heart.  Protecting ourselves is only hurting us.

Yesterday was Sexagesima Sunday according to the traditional Catholic calendar.  This means we are about sixty days before Easter.  The priest connected the epistle and gospel in a wonderful way and inspired me to write today.

Sexagesima Sunday

Epistle  •  2 Corinthians 11:19-33; 12:1-9

Gospel • Luke 8:4-15

In the epistle, St Paul said “but for myself I will glory nothing but in my infirmities”.  The epistle also mentions suffering.  Then the Gospel talked about someone spreading seeds on the ground and how depending on the type of soil the seed lands on the seed may or may not bear fruit.  The seed being the word of God and we are the soil.  Click the link above to read the epistle and gospel.

Ground that is tough and infertile will not help a seed grow, but if we can see our weaknesses and problems with humility we can loosen that soil.  People who have been neglected and abused  during childhood learn that we must protect ourselves.  Oftentimes when we do that we harden our own hearts to make ourselves as strong as possible.  We were only children trying to hold it together.  So we firmly hold on to all of the ideas and teachings that sustain us.

Hey, doing this kept me alive, so I don’t knock it as long as it’s keeping you going.  However, I am older and stronger now.  I don’t have to protect myself the same way now as I did then.

Yes, I hardened my heart and swallowed my tears (like the song, lol).  And in order to loosen that heart and loosen the soil I must grab a garden fork and stab myself in the heart with it.  It is painful, but in a way that is what it feels like to accept the worst. I had to die to myself and every idea and self perception.  So, you dig down deep with the garden fork and turn things around.  You loosen the soil, loosen your heart.  Now the brokenness is even more real, it’s more painful now that I am conscious of it.  But, the air suddenly is reaching my heart and I can breath!  The water is penetrating me and, you know what – my heart is not so brittle and cracked from drought anymore!  When you lift up your brokenness to God, it is then His grace can penetrate you and do the most healing.  It is when I could be honest with myself – accepting the truth about my life – that God could really do some pretty darn amazing things to aid the healing process.

So, have courage.  God is with you.  God sees all and knows all.  He knows all of your thoughts even better than you do.  Be brave and face yourself.

Eating a sour lemon is over quicker than making lemonade…


I am scared.

There it is.  I am scared!

It took nearly ten years to realize the abuse I endured caused me to dissociate.  Until my husband and I came to accept this we were homeschooling.  However, teaching the kids at home forced me to deal with whatever it was that caused functioning in this life to be so darn difficult.  Taking on more responsibility at home meant that I could not spend time escaping from my self.  This was when I went to see a neuropsychiatrist who diagnosed me with A.D.D.  The medication for ADD enabled my brain to make and keep more connections and ultimately helped me to become able to take a look at myself.  Though the memories of sexual abuse had already begun surfacing years before this, the medication helped me take things to another step where I could think about those memories and allow more connections to be made.  Previously, the memories were like a ladder missing most of the rungs.  I had several ladders with only a few rungs.  I was getting nowhere!  The meds helped me put more rungs on the ladder so I could actually get somewhere!

Though the medication helped me get through homeschooling for the most part, there were times I was not able to fill the prescriptions.  During the unmedicated or less medicated times homeschooling was extremely difficult – like walking backwards on a treadmill.  Knowing our kids’ education important we decided to send them to a private school.  However, we could not keep sending them to the school that the kids and my husband and I liked so much and wound up sending them to public school.

Every time I thought about sending my kids to public school the fear that somebody is going to do God know’s what to them plagued me.  You see, the uncle who sold me to the devil and signed me up for the government’s modern form of slavery also worked for the fire department.  When I was in kindergarten it was his job to walk through the school and make sure the building was safe.  He would walk through every classroom.  When I saw him, I couldn’t help but wave and say “hi!” Eventually everybody started waving and I could hear several classes shout out, “Hi uncle _________!”  This happened every few weeks.

I have no memory of abuse occurring at the school, but my uncle is forever tied to school for me.

For two days in a row, for separate reasons, all the area schools were under lock-down.  Yesterday there was a different threat than the one today and neither threats were against my kids’ schools, but the school has to take safety measures.  Objectively I know my kids are safe.  But I mean COME ON!!! 

These are the times that make me so thankful to have developed a prayer-life long ago.  It was hope that I clung to while sinking into suicidal thoughts as a young girl.  It was knowing that God knows all my thoughts and feelings that allowed me to pray without anybody knowing.  And, it was my guardian angel that protected me from greater injury when I was hit by a car at 6 years old – I only had a few scrapes and bruises.  This is proof of God’s love.  This is my proof that He does in fact intervene, even if it is not obvious in an outward visible way.  These are experiences that no man can take from me.  Just like God sending grace to help me keep going then, He will do the same now.

I just have to make use of His help.  I still feel the pressure and fear, but I know that it ends.

Hopefully my kids do not have to be on lock-down ever again!!

Picking Up Good Vibrations


An interesting and exciting experience occurred with my baby.  I was giving her a bottle and stopped to burp her.  So I put her on my shoulder and patted her back.  Then she did something babies always do when their mouth is near skin – she tried licking my shoulder.  Her automatic nursing reflex to eat kicked in.  Now, even with all of the babies I have had, even though my kids all sucked on my arm if they moved their head, looking for more food, I had never felt the sensation of a baby attempting to nurse!  I have felt it on a physical level, but not in a way where my brain would interpret what I was feeling and in turn allow me to live in that experience.  I never knew – how removed I was from the physical experience of living.  I had no idea there was more to our senses.  Sure, my senses are mostly in tact (except for pain and pleasure) – I can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel.  I can appreciate a beautiful painting, enjoy music, like and dislike different smells and tastes, BUT none of those things have been able to move me on an emotional level.  Life has been impersonal and I never realized it until my baby “nursed” on my shoulder.

It makes sense now why breastfeeding has been impossible.  I understand now that feeling in my breasts comes and goes.  There is no pain, no pleasure 90% of the time.  What I feel is pretty much robotic or strictly on a physical level – very externally focused.

There are pros and cons to having a limited experience of the senses.  Here is a good example of a pro:  Childbirth.  Labor and delivery is said to be the most painful thing a person could go through, however, the delivery room was said to be like a black hole the last time I was giving birth.  When the pain hits and increases, I do not talk, I do not move.  I retreat and pull everything I can within.  I become extremely focused during the pain.  I actually use all my strength to get through birth.  Nobody knows it though.  To everybody else I am a frigging’ machine.  There is no crying, or yelling, no crazy outbursts – I lay there quietly and still.  Thankfully my husband can tell by now how much pain I am in by how quiet and still I am.  When it comes time to push I do yell – that is very painful – although my husband still says even then I don’t express how I feel or even use grunts to help push.

So, limited pain is a pro. The cons range from physical to the emotional.  During one of my pregnancies I became extremely sick and didn’t know it until I was on my death-bed.  I had an infection from a super-bug that is resistant to antibiotics and has a mortality rate which varies from 50% to 100% depending on the overall health of the individual.  This was severe pneumonia and a severe kidney and bladder infection.  I HAD NO IDEA that I was so sick!  The baby was delivered a month early.  Labor was induced though I was having seizures.  When the baby was born, she had a fever of 106 degrees and needed an IV which was put in through the soft spot of her skull!  Also I am unable to breastfeed because I am unable to experience nursing a baby.  Then you have the marital problems that arise because touching and being touched doesn’t connect with my emotions or mental processes they way it does for most normal people.  I can’t tell you, how hard marriage has been because I don’t really experience life!  So the fact that finally I experienced a touch in a new way is a major eye opener.

What else don’t I feel?

Bits and pieces on my mind about God


After my last memory post, my husband (who does all the research on my situation) discovered one of the techniques used in mind control or severe manipulation as it relates to the victim’s personal view of God.  To be honest, none of the phrases I can come up with can really give an adequate description of how intense and psychologically torturous mind control really is.  To call it “mind-control” or manipulation, or brainwashing – does not do it justice.  The best thing to call it is Psychological Torture.  Back to the point, one of the focuses is to give the victim a view of God as being someone who can help you, but just chooses not to.  This God, who is supposed to love and save you, threw you into the hands of people who abuse you and refuses to protect you.  They turn God into a person who is one of the abusers.  They force you into a position of having to do something wrong and make you believe that God will not forgive you, twisting bible verses to reinforce their heretical teaching.  Another tool they use is getting somebody from their group and telling you that this person is Jesus.  I believe that is what lead me to stop the ritual I mentioned in the previous memory post.  Part of me was stopping Jesus from being killed.

I know that how the programmers and abusers worked on twisting my view of God was very painful, because as a child I remember before falling asleep at night I would pray and think about how my guardian angel was always there to protect me.  I kept praying to God to please send my parents to pick me up, let me go home.  I believed that my angel would help me, and I never gave up believing that fact.  My others though, they had a rougher time.  Through all the pain and internal conflict, I know God preserved me.  It is because of Him that I am alive today.  It is because of God that I am married to my husband – who just happens to be the absolute most perfect person for me to be married to. I have SO much to be thankful for!

There is so much more that I want to explain, but can’t make the connections and bring forward the information that applies to this subject.  I know the information is there – but access is limited.  What I do know and what I can share is this:  God’s mercy is infinite. The only thing that prevents God from forgiving anybody is the person’s unwillingness to say they are sorry and ask forgiveness!  I also learned that I am not above any sin – given the right circumstances and conditions, I can fall for any temptation.  That is a key to humility and is so necessary as a follower of Christ.  And you know, the more you lean on God to help you through the tough times, the closer you become to God.

My husband and I work together on healing with the use of imagery in the format of hypnosis.  I am unable to become unconscious and remain completely aware during these sessions together – but it still works out well.  My husband guides me downward to a deeper part of my brain the same way a person would during hypnosis.  He guides me to my castle.  (there happens to be a kind of mind control programming called castle programming)  I incorporated God into my castle because that made me feel safe.  In the beginning there was a simple white cross that my alters and I put our suffering on and offered up to God.  Then, after fighting off demons with the help of my guardian angel, I turned one of my reclaimed rooms into a chapel.  My relationship with Jesus was not formed so well, and so I went to Jesus’ mother – the Blessed Virgin Mary and asked for her help.  Eventually I brought a life-sized crucifix into the downstairs living room.  This way, upon entering my castle, I would kneel before the image of Christ and ask for His assistance during this therapy session with my husband.  Eventually, one of my alters converted.  I prayed for my full conversion, and Josie did, Emily is reluctant but has accepted Christ, and Nicky is one I am still working on.  When Josie accepted Jesus, I brought her downstairs where she knelt down before the crucifix and began crying at the feet of Jesus.  As she did this, the statue of Christ on the cross became real!  We had reached the place where God resides within us.  Since then, Jesus has been closer to me than ever before.

At this point, I have another chapel within my castle where my alters and I can go in prayer or during therapy to pray and talk to God.  Recently, Emily was having trouble understanding why God didn’t save her.  Jesus came to her, with his crown of thorns, and his skin torn from the scourging at the pillar, and he knelt down by little Emily, held her, and with more love than I could imagine He expressed how all His cuts are for her.  The thorns in His head, are for her.  Before I was ever born, He knew what would likely happen.  This upset him so much that he bled during His agony in the garden.  It is hard to grasp what this really means, but now Emily knows Jesus is really a loving merciful God.  The thing is, this is true for all of us – not just me, not just you – but every person on Earth!


A few things I have learned


Any idea of who I thought I was completely shattered upon the acceptance of a single memory.  For years, my husband and I wondered if I was sexually abused as a child.  We talked about what I always remembered and discussed certain bedroom behaviors of mine.  As far as I knew I lived a completely uneventful and normal life.  I believe what solidified this division of my personality was the extreme contrast between lives that I was made to live.  One, being the good girl in a catholic family – a good, non abusive family and the other as the slave to the horribly evil torturous people I was exposed to.  Sometimes I am still in awe of this extreme contrast I was made to live through.  It is hard to bring these existences together.

One thing I have learned is the idea of nature vs. nurture is very well expressed through these experiences.  There is the idea of nature – being the personality characteristics and qualities we are born with, and nurture being how our experiences in life and those who shape us (parents, family, friends) affect the person we become.  I have learned that one person, if plucked up from their life and placed into another situation completely will be affected in a way they may have never expected.  What I really mean to explain is that say you have a person born into a nice life with a good family, not void of pain, but still a decent life; then what if that same person was never born into that good family but was born into an abusive one – well, the two extremes are going to produce different results.

This can transfer to humility and gratefulness.  In a way I am thankful God preserved me as in amber and allowed me to split rather than have to deal with trying to understand these extremes as a young girl.  So, while I could be angry with God that He allowed me to go through what I did, I am still thankful that part of me was preserved.  The humility comes in when I recover a new memory.  Usually the memories where I am older cause me feel that moral conflict inside.  I am talking about the things that I would never in a million years do, but did anyway because it was not me who did those actions.  The humility learned here is that I am not bigger than any sin.  If I was plucked up and placed into another situation growing up, those experiences would nurture certain weaknesses or strengths which would in turn directly affect the decisions I would make in life.  Josie never learned what I learned about the catholic faith or Christianity at all.  Nicky made any and all of her decisions based on the programming that was done and her strengths in holding memories and all the pain (emotional and physical).  Emily is the little girl who started out with the most of my hopes and faith that someone would some and save her, but nobody did, and faith and hope suffered.

What these parts of me were taught as well as what they learned through the abuse is going to affect their opinions.  Because each of my alters are separate, they do seem to have different personalities.  They are each unique because of how they were nurtured.  I, as the core or host, may not have been affected directly by their experiences, however, I was affected by their existence within this psychological system.  In small ways their experiences, their opinions or personal paradigms bled over into my own thought process.

The second thing I have learned is about sin; its rippling effect as well as forgiveness.  This has a similarity to the nature vs. nurture or rather cause and effect.  I am not very good at providing adequate examples, but hopefully you can understand what I have learned.  It has been said that sin darkens the intellect and weakens the soul.  One thing this means is that sin takes away some of the clarity we may have had.  We grow further from God.  It becomes easier to sin more, and harder to persist in resisting sin.  This is seen on a personal and spiritual level, but also on a superficial level we can see how this happens.  A pretty blunt example would be child abuse.  You have a pedophile and torturer who is only considering satisfying his own urges.  This is a person who has given himself over to sin completely and any consideration regarding ever fighting  those vices is way too weak to make a difference on its own.  Then you have the child this person is hurting.  The sin only belongs to the pedophile, but yet the child has to bear the burden of that horror.  The child is affected for the rest of his or her life.  This makes me think of Christ carrying His cross.  He didn’t deserve the torture He went through, but he carried the burden anyway.

You can also think of having a moment of selfishness on the road.  Say you are in a rush, trying to get somewhere and wrapped up in your own life.  So, what if this mood you are in causes you to cut somebody off or just make someone else angry who is trying to get to their own destination.  Maybe, because you were a little bit rude on the road, this person is upset and their demeanor then affects their own life and causes them to be rude to the people they love.

That is the rippling effect of sin.  Yes, in the end we are all responsible for our own actions.  The rude driver is not necessarily to blame for someone else treating someone they care about badly, but whether the driver realizes it or not, they were somehow involved in the life of a complete stranger.

Then you have forgiveness.  What if the stranger who was put in a bad mood by a rude driver decided to forgive that driver?  I learned that forgiveness means not letting the sin of another person affect you anymore.  If you forgive that rude driver, then you won’t upset people you care about because of your bad mood.  In essence you stop the cycle of sin and put an end to the ripples.  That is the power of forgiveness.

Let’s apply this idea of forgiveness to childhood trauma.  Healing is a process of forgiveness.  Here, forgiveness does not mean pretending the horrors of abuse never happened.  Neither does it mean that to forgive you have to be comfortable around people who abused you.  You do not have to be friends with the abuser who sinned against you.  It just wouldn’t be safe.  In the interest of safety I refuse to have anything to do with my aunt and uncle who caused my dissociation.  But, even though I can not practice forgiveness by showing direct kindness and charity to them, I will practice forgiveness as well as I can through healing and trying to put an end to the many effects their sins have had on me.

Here is a quote I like:

“God could in no wise permit the kind of evil out of which He could not bring good” – St. Augustine (354-430)

I know God is more powerful that the devil.  I do not understand why God allows these horrible sins to persist, however, I do know that He is more forgiving than any of us – as long as we acknowledge we need His forgiveness.  What I have also learned is that God is relying on us to allow Him to work in the world.  As long as we co-operate with His inspirations, as well as forgiving others by healing ourselves, we are allowing God to work through us.

Our healing can be more powerful than we ever imagined!

Caught in the Middle Between Multiple Personalities (DID) and Marriage


Internal conflicts… that which hits the at the heart of who my alters are and why they exist; the very reason from what I can tell so far, that one alter split into two and so on.  My husband is an empath and picks up on the deepest parts of my emotions.  He has picked up  on things which for years I would not accept, and now find are true.

Here is what I know of my Others so far:

It started with Emily.  She is my little girl.  She’s about 10, but has the maturity of a 5 or 6 year old.  She faced the initial horrors which brought her into being.  Somehow Nicea came into the mix.  She had a different name to begin with, but (ok, I know this sounds weird but go with it) Jesus brought her up into my awareness out of the pits of my deepest interior hell during one of my hypnosis sessions with my husband.  Jesus renamed her.  I typically refer to her as Nicky.  Nicky holds all of the pain and suffering physically and emotionally that the other girls can not live with.  If Jesus did not show her to me I would have thought she was a demon plaguing me, honestly.  At some point during puberty (I hate the word, ug) Josie was split off.  I believe the reason she was split is due to my body growing and being able to feel enjoyment during sex.  She somehow developed out of Emily’s rejection of and hatred for all sexual enjoyment and anyone involved with the act.  Emily held on to that which made sense to her, while Josie developed in the backround at first.  Josie embodies Emily’s inability to connect with other people and enjoy the world around her.  Josie can act well socially around others and really enjoys sex.

Before Nicky was brought out from the darkness, Emily had a very intellectual and objective personality.  She was very curious and had many questions.  She still has the questions, but since Nicky completes her in a way, the intense emotions of a child who has been traumatized have been restored to Emily’s nature.  Nicky is also the protector of Emily.

In addition to those three major players there are the personality traits.  I like to call them aspects of our personality.  These aspects may be major parts of who I am that have been suppressed as a side effect from the abuse and programming.  The aspects include joy, playfulness, setting goals, and even my sense of justice.  There are many different aspects to our personality.  It is possible the programming directly caused the suppression of many of these aspects – like leadership and goals and justice which would be in direct conflict with the programming.

The major conflict at this point has to do with my marital physical relationship.  My husband has long picked up on Nicky’s hatred for, Emily’s pain from, and Josie’s longing for our physical relationship.  I, personally, am indifferent.  The conflicting emotions from my others leave me wishing the human race didn’t have to reproduce in the manner we do.  I don’t feel that way out of dislike or hatred for the act, but rather out of utter frustration with the act.  I do not orgasm – that’s Josie’s arena.  I don’t loathe the physical nature of humanity – that’s Emily’s arena.  I am caught in the middle.  All I am left with is indifference.  I could take it or leave it.  I don’t mind it, but I don’t see what all the fuss is about.  People act like sex is the be all end all of human existence and I just don’t get it.  (To clarify, technically sex is the reason for human existence but what I mean to point out is how much sex has thoroughly taken over our culture)  Look at all the psychological and physical trauma sex causes!  It even causes trouble when it is used morally within marriage.  I know it can be a holy and very good act, but there is nowhere to be found a clue as to how to turn sex from something abusive, raunchy, or selfish into something loving, beautiful, giving, and even holy.  But what do I know.  If I was to look for an answer to that question my others would keep fighting about it and nobody involved would be helped even if the answer was staring me in the face.

Then there is my wonderful empathic husband.  Because of his empathy and analytical skills my alters and I have come as far as we have.  But, when it comes to marriage, there has been trouble.  Like I mentioned, he picks up on what I am feeling even stronger than I do.  So, while I am feeling fine about touching each other, he picks up on the emotions stirring under the surface which makes the experience very trying on him mentally as well.  It has gotten to the point where Emily and Josie are fighting over control of my body regardless of my awareness.  I, myself, will be ready to be with my husband mentally, but physically my body won’t allow it.  Other times I am mentally not in the mood but Josie will keep pushing me and my body refuses to relax until I get some.  My husband at this point is exceptionally frustrated with the whole thing as am I.

One good thing coming out of this so far is that I am learning how to become stronger in my core.  I must step up and say, I am married and care for my husband!  I love him and WANT to take care of him!  Still, it’s not easy.  In a way, I think my others are kind of relieved to know I am increasing in strength.

Healing and getting stronger is a very exhausting process!

Old Guitar


This morning my oldest red-head discovered something under my bed.  She had a guitar pic in her hand, and a huge smile on her face.

She said, “Mom, I found something to make music!”

My old guitar is something I always wanted to feel comfortable playing, but couldn’t get around feeling so self conscious about it.  The best way to describe how I felt was incredible excitement combined with an equal amount of fear.  The old guitar is more than twenty years old.  It has a cracked bridge, but other than that it seems to play ok.  Since Red #1 found it, I thought maybe it was time to tune it and practice a few chords.  The tips of my fingers hurt – no more callouses to strengthen the finger tips.

The girls loved listening to the strings make music while I pressed certain chords for them.

I am sure one of my alters can play the guitar better than I can.  Josie is much more comfortable expressing herself. There is some thing preventing me from being comfortable expressing myself.  Playing music connects with a deeper part of myself, the part that says “Let ME do it!” and “I’m better than you.”  It is a part that wants to break past all the walls, and say heck with the rules!

But, I can not allow it.  I don’t know how to allow her to express herself.  I have not figured out how to let my alters out without the use of the trigger.  It seems I am always aware now that I know about them.  I don’t want to let go.  I am scared of my free will being mis-used and abused even though I am around people who are loving and trusting.

A funny thing I remember:  I had these two stickers of the Blessed Virgin Mary and St Michael the Archangel.  I thought it would be neat to put them on my guitar case.  My “BFF” who was also in the “group” persuaded me not to put them on the case.  This particular bff was a guy friend of mine who I believe became my handler.  He played a part in making sure I got to certain appointments or rituals.  I believe Josie, as a part of this group of satanists played guitar on occasion.  So, having the Queen of Heaven and the angel who put the devil in hell on my guitar case probably was something they wouldn’t like.

I laugh at that irony.

Anyhow, maybe I can try letting Josie play a few chords, too.  🙂

Princess Power!


Over the past week I took one daughter at a time to the store to pick up a doll.  Daughter G, who is 7 years old now, picked out the Princess Power Barbie doll with the blue hair.  Blue is her favorite color.  G is a sweetie, she reminds me of myself as a kid.  She is quiet and thoughtful.  She doesn’t have the same problem with socializing with others like I had growing up.  That is beautiful because I know she has never been abused.  She is growing and maturing just the way God created her.  Sometimes I wonder how I would have turned out had our family never moved so close to my uncle, but that is pointless to think about.

Anyway, at the store we looked at several Barbie dolls.  You know what, I felt giddy inside.  I’m sure that was Emily (my little girl alter).  It was nice to know she was present.  She has been hiding a lot.  Well, part of the problem is that even though she is quiet I have a hard time in general identifying who’s who in my mind.  I hear their comments often enough, but I heard them my whole life and always took ownership of the thoughts myself.  So, now I have to reassess where they are coming from and who is who.

Emily is a sweet little girl, but she seems to be very intellectual also – like she is the younger self but also has a more mature intellectual self and I am not sure if that is a separate person, or if it is still her.  Maybe one is her protector since she is extremely shy and wants to live in her familiar shell.

I believe the most recent recollection of feeling compassion and wanting to change my own situation and other kids’ situations but failing and then making things worse for everybody opened up the vault for taking the risk to love others again.  Empathy and sympathy may be the key for connecting with Emily.

Pic of the doll: