As we look over the past week it’s all a dissociated whirl – even now it’ a problem focusing; we’ve been ‘all over the place’ – ranging from that discompassionate emotion and state of ‘non-being’ to fracturing, coming apart, and together again – like a strange tide . . .
It’s something to do with . . . a tad bit of everything – having to switch all over to handle things, ranging from going hunting (not that we’re hunting; we’re showing someone how to) – to meeting an old friend; family issues (we’re not sure but we might have made a mistake or two this last weekend) – our wife coming around some towards realizing what we are and hopefully ‘working’ with us (some) – and we’re unable to help her (wishing I could) – since so many of us are ‘shutting up’ sometime . . .
We realized something last night I suppose I should write down. In that book we wrote little Mikie gets “silenced” (But in the book he’s the Jeffery being) – by the sexual abuse that went on; by the knowledge that he said something and that everything went wrong . . .
and I get to remembering the original story in which I wrote a different scene; a different way of this happening, which ‘triggers’ us somewhat (oral sodomy can be a B**!! for a small child; we remember this sort of thing so well) – and tearing (as in to rip and rend, not cry and sob) the back of the throat and things . . .
and then our own little Mikie is such a silent thing some of the times; a child of little words but mainly emotion – but quite capable of talking when he wants to – but so! shy and scared and afraid to ‘come out’ – afraid of getting hurt again . . . and yet he loves our wife (some) and has come to regard her as a ‘momma’ or something (which is okay) . . .
and then there’s our ‘other’ one, this “13” (as he insists on calling himself, though his name (we think) is not 13 at all: it’s just his number and ‘our’ age at the end of ‘that time’ – right on the end of him (13) and the beginning of a new one (Matthew) – it takes time to build ‘these things’ (meaning alternate personalities which are capable of hosting the ‘entire’ being) – trying to analyize ‘him’ and what he was and is . . .
This we know.
13 is a sort of composite being (As we all are, which makes a sort of sense in a DID being; our ‘ways’ of looking at ‘ourselves’ in some senses.) He is three – that is three personalities at one time (the usual way of doing things – we have found three is a popular number in the number of ‘ones’ that can be ‘out’ at any time without the person as a ‘whole’ malfunctioning in some sort of way.) We are thinking one of these personalities is Mikie; the ‘original being’ (meaning our first ‘major’ host that we are aware of; Mikie himself was balancing ‘beings’ within himself as well, it appears – the beginnings of the ‘soldier self’ (age 8), and another one (Toddler? We’re not sure). But Mikie had to ‘be there’ to maintain continuity, if you understand – he was the original being . . .
But finding himself yanked from his ‘host country’, stranded in a foreign land – he set about developing ’13’, who is (we are thinking), “Jeremy” – which, we think, ‘he’ has chosen as it’s resemblance to the place we were stuck in (Germany) is way too clear.
But Jeremy broke down at 13; that is when “the THING” happened and we lost our best friend; then 13. Then 13 comes over ‘here’ (Stateside again) – and breaks down within a year (we remember that thing).
Every time we see the same thing: a gray sky, the school we were temporary transferred to (it sat on a hill) – our anger and our resentment at this whole THING – this was a bad time, a sad time, and a hard time as well, for we found when we’d come back our nightmares had come true – nothing resembled anything; the way we’d left it was all gone; living in our sexual abuser’s house (though our parents did not know) – the neighborhood was ‘gone’, destroyed by death and time . . .
It was a nightmare for us emotionally and mentally; a lot of hard adjustments, then we moved again – just one last time . . .
We holed up for almost an entire year – never going outside, never going anywhere – even when we could – for our parents were into restricting us several times a year (six to nine weeks at a time – sentenced to your room forever, only to come out for meals and/or school . . . and housework, too.) . . . installed an alarm on my bedroom door . . .
13 broke down. 14 began – only that was the ‘beginning’ and the ‘end’ of Matthew at the same time, for within that year we formed one ‘mind’ – his (Matthew) – and HE broke down and did it again, making us ‘the Machine’ – hard times again, but HE (Matthew) hid inside – shutting US all down again – and then . . .
no emotion at any time. Nothing that was not allowed: no loving, no hope, no giving of friendships or taking of any kind. Living coldly and distantly and all alone – or as alone as we could – only “we” were shut down (M3 didn’t exist at that time) . . .
for 14 years? Something like that. Broke of course. Time and time again. And learned love . . . sucked. Hurt us some time. Time and time again.
So we just quit loving.
And that was all of that.
Anyway: strange week; hard times; dissociating, fractured a bit – but okay. “We’re” getting along – just confused and ‘unalert’ – like being on the highway – and TRAPPED into highway hypnosis – as well as this hard wild swings left, right, up down and inbetween – and ‘drops’ and shifts into regression – Matthew stepping in and out; 13 starting to have ‘his’ sway . . . tried to ‘absorb’ that ‘new’ personality but can’t – and LOTS of flashes from ‘his’ time; hard emotions – feeling what HE felt at that time – it really kinda sucks but our wife has been kind; tried to explain – couldn’t. But . . . oh well.
Life goes on.