Dissection of an alter.
It sounds pretty cold and impersonal, like we’re laying someone down – something – and cutting it open. We’ve even got a ‘scene’ like that. But there is no pain. 13 wants this done. It is that “unemotionalness” which ‘he’ wants undone.
We are hesitant to continue. What will the incision reveal?
It could be something like this:
Below is a dome shaped room ’13 built’ when ‘he’ was an alter in control of the system. It’s easy to see the symbology. And the computer console ‘he’ is operating would be ‘us’. Back THEN we called him “The Controller”. This went on a long time. I ‘saw’ this place as in inside ‘place’ when I was the personality “21” – and on through until I was 24 (26?) or so – when ’21’ gave up the job. This was a ‘very real’ and active personality; you would meet ‘him’ on the outside.
These images and drawings like these have been in my head for a long time. Doodling in the past, I found myself doodling renditions of this dome – and the hallway connecting. (In each room is another emotion; another love . . . lost, some of them. and they look like this:
(they hurt when I hold them; that radiance like spears)
So I leave them alone. They hurt too much to contemplate sometimes.
Using a computer and teaching ourselves graphics (both vector & pixel & 3D animation) we were able to do some good (representations as well as therapy work for us.) Ages 17-1/2 or so we gave up on it; then resume after the Marines. (The artwork came later.)
13 was in control, or partially in control during all that.
Matthew aided & abetted him a bit – after Matthew was ‘born’. He was created for the new neighborhood & environment we were in: a ‘typical American teen’. He was kept in ‘the Machine’ as well.
This all continued just fine until everything collapsed and ‘we’ were able to ‘give birth’ to “21”. Matthew survived, but just barely. We needed ‘someone’ with continuity to go on . . . so he was it. That and this new alter whose job was ‘self-examination’ and correction if he could, using the tools 13 had picked up from his father’s instruction, “Study for a College Degree” and put him through a course for a psychology degree. (I feel fear now, connecting on a level with 21. “It was not funny”, 21’s fear – we were very close to self-destruction. Putting it away now . . . lol, host here – it sent the heart racing! Scary. And frowning. 21 has ‘agreed’ to put his things off, but my God! – if that’s just the tip of the iceberg . . . this host is somewhat alarmed. Anyay . . .). Funny – and incidently – “21” was also my ‘number’ in boot camp – but I was 17-1/2 biologically. ’21’ the personality’ didn’t ‘come out’ until late fall – when I was 21.
It took ‘him’ (21) fifteen minutes to get established and online. Matthew was in shock; 13 was reeling, and the ‘system’ collapsed into itself. Our whole life had been wrong.
I’d had a realization. An epiphany.
And in that process it ‘destroyed’ the system. 13 and the ‘rest’ – though they’d certainly gone dormant, were not gone from my head. (I’d thought some were dead.) We went from one thing – to another.
Like most things in my life (I have problems remembering this clear) – we were on a ride with a girl.
And bam, it hit me.
and everything broke down.
Two years later ‘I’ (Matthew the teen here) was still crawling around with him in me – that awful child.
and how I hated his young ass!
We tried to kill him a number of times.
We hurt the body. We toughened some. We were a son-of-a-bitch to be around. We were trying to kill ourselves on a daily basis, but majority rules . . . we could never quite get enough to get around to it, or felt too far down to care.
It was a hard time.
. . .
So . . . we figured ’13’ was ‘done’. Sure, ‘he’ was there, running in the background, quite efficiently, doing his job. We’d heard from ‘him’ a time or two . . . but nothing major. But just like an engine you’ve come to depend on running in some back room – providing you information, handling skills, some writing, memories – artwork! – and more . . . just a logical running ‘machine’.
Just like ‘he’ wanted ‘it’ to be.
Problem is – we think (we’re still not sure) – ‘he’ might still be ‘trapped’ in that Machine ‘he’ built, the one that ‘we’ all crawled out of. “We” left ‘him’ behind in other words, which might explain why he’s so ‘behind’ us and ‘stuck’ in time. “He” realizes it’s a brand new world; hell, he’s been the one exploring it! (He’s one of our greatest scientist’s minds, and has access to our Notetake & knowledge storage.)
But he’s a freak of nature, too, in his own way. A geek by some definitions; a ‘fat kid’ by others; tougher than he looks but unwilling to fight anymore, ever . . . unless he has to in defense of himself or someone he loves/likes – while despising the fact that he likes them, wants them, needs them in his life – sexually abused but restricted by his life into celibacy . . . looking down on the games other teens play, the sexual innuendos that don’t mean a damned thing . . .
he’s tired of those games before they even began. he’s played them as a young child, got burned and burned and burned . . .
and has decided that he will never get burned again, ever.
By denying all those emotions to himself.
Not a problem. (he thought)
I’ll simply build a Machine to keep me in; an armor of logic and nonemotion, where nothing can get out and nothing can get in and if it does – I’ll kill it.
and so he does.
Starting when we were about “13” or so . . .
It’s good to know your roots, your lineage. Typically this is where ‘we’ begin: with the dissection of a HOST alter’s “timeline” – when they were in control, how they got there, what other alters they had under their control; who they come from and what they leave. And what I’ve learned . . . is that alters can have alters of their own. The fathers become the sons (younger alters giving way to older ones; the adults in ‘me’, perhaps. We thought 13 was a pretty basic thing; now it turns out he’s more complex than we ever dreamed. He went through a lot of stuff.