When Memories Collide...

This post is going to contain graphic descriptions, sensitive subjects, DO NOT read if you can't stomach depravity...

Bout sums it up.....

So... we are currently separated from our husband and working on a divorce. We've been married for awhile and we separated once before 6 years later. The separation was the best possible thing for us however we found out we were pregnant a week after he left, and had massive medical problems during that pregnancy. By December of that year we started feeling a massive pull to reconcile. We couldn't eat, breathe, sleep, or function. We just believed we needed him back. We reconciled in January and by May we realized we made a huge mistake. Our relationship continued to deteriorate but it seemed that every December we would go through a period where we doubted that things were so bad and maybe even that we were exaggerating or making stuff up for it to seem so bad. We would try again to make our marriage work, only to realize that nothing was getting better. We had a family therapist for many of these years who was confirming that the relationship wasn't healthy. We just weren't getting it.  This year we walked away again (6 years from the first separation), and now its December and the familiar pull is happening again.

Yesterday Jessa decided to reach out for help on a Facebook group for people like us, to find out why this keeps happening in December. The conversation turned to 6 year cycles, return dates, half returns, and programming. Someone mentioned ritual abuse or spiritual abuse. From the moment Jessa read those words memories started flooding back. First in small fragments, and then like a damn broke. Memories are playing over and over on a big screen in our inner space. There's no pause button, no stop button, no way to slow it down or block it. We have the little girls in a safe place, away from the chaos but we all can't be there because someone has to run the body and live our life. So the 4 of us who are over the age of 10 (there's been a LOT of system changes since we last blogged) are rotating out and trying to figure out what to do.

I know that part of what we need to do is talk about it, but therapy is not an option for us. We simply can't feel safe and it would take months to feel safe enough with a therapist to talk about it. Mama and Daddy want us to open up and talk but we cant seem to bring ourselves to speak the words. Mama suggested writing about it, and I decided to take that suggestion and write it out.

So far that's proving to be challenging. My focus keeps wandering and  I keep forgetting what I'm doing. I keep trying to think it through but my thoughts jump around to other things. Even writing these sentences I'm finding myself thinking about 8 other things of which I could write. I'm just going to try and jump into it now and see what happens.

The first memory fragment was about a pagan style ceremony in our bedroom a bunch of years ago. There was a star on the floor, with a circle inside. The lights were off but there was a candle at each point in the circle. There was chanting and blood involved. We don't seem to have any memory of where the blood came from, how it ended, or what actually happened there. We are assuming that the first born child was in the room at the time, but we have no memory to confirm that or not. We are mostly positive that second born child was conceived around this time, possibly that night, based on what memories of that year and time frame we currently have. There were a few of those types of ceremonies. We can see other bedrooms we've had with him over the years, sage, salt, incense, pentacles, candles, tarot cards, knives.

That memory paved the way for a lot of others, most being highly sexual. Being whipped with a belt while holding a necklace with a pentacle charm. The guilt of our body becoming very turned on. No memory of why, just the vague clips. Some type of blood ceremony, using a cut on our upper arm. Blindfolds, chains, and candles. A brand, in a crescent moon. Piercings, candles, pentacles, and intimate acts with a dog. Tied down and blindfolded with a lit candle in our anus. Being choked with his penis, being spoon fed his cum mixed with some type of oatmeal or something that made it chunky. Him mixing his cum into a lot of our food. Having him urinate on us, many many many times. The collars that choked us and felt horrific. Being called pig, cow, and other degrading names while blindfolded and naked around others in a room. Being used sexually by him and other females. Being given pills to ensure our compliance, or to sedate us so that we could be used sexually without fight or emotion. Being dressed as a small child, diapered as a baby, bathroom use being forbidden to purposely create accidents. Being punished (spanked, corner time, and butt plugs inserted) when the accidents eventually happened. Being used sexually after accidents and punishments. Use of furniture being forbidden... always belonged on the floor. Fed from dog bowls sometimes. Crawled around, barked like a dog, and being required to hump his leg. Being tied to the bed at night with a chain and a locked ankle cuff. Showers in cold water, him urinating in our hair, being forced to lick his anus. Him saving drops of our blood, keeping locks of our hair, clippings from our fingernails, Him assuring us he would always be able to find us and get us with those items. Threatening to leave us so that we'd be alone and no one would ever want us after all we've done.  

I don't know what the right words are are to describe this, but taking advantage of littles in the system for sexual reasons. Waking up in the middle of the night to intercourse, often with the littles in the system. Manipulated into believing he could make spirits possess us, being punished for not trying hard enough at orgasm control, for not performing well enough, for not reaching a trance like state during beatings or whippings, being punished for healing too quickly from these "sessions", Comfort items (blankets, stuffed animals), food and drink, bathroom use, orgasms, all needed permission. Permission was often denied. Sleep often denied for 30+ hours, while being expected to work a full shift and take care of the girls.

The worst part,  I think, was being convinced that we wanted and needed it. That it was all going to make us be "good girls" and that it was necessary for our protection and best interest.  The guilt is overwhelming because our body will still react in a sexually positive way to these thoughts, memories, etc. 

The List

This is, hands down, one of my most favorite memes from Facebook. It completely describes most of us in this system. People have asked us before why we always seem to need to learn things the hard way and the answer has always been the same..... we didn't realize there was any other way. I think, in a way, the hard road/way always seems easiest to understand. We are leery of things that seem too easy. Almost like its a trap or not "real". 

So, these silly girls take the hard road. Part of taking the hard road seems to be never looking at what's right in front of you. Right in front of me is a ton of opportunity to learn new things and to do things that previously were impossible. Mom and Daddy are really supportive of whatever it is we want to try. So some of us made lists of things we would like to try to learn or do.

My list so far: 

Lose weight (working on that, down 32lbs since we moved here in August)

Learn to bake

Learn to cook

Become a better and more consistent writer

Get divorced

Knit something useful

Change the way the body looks to better reflect us... get comfortable in our skin

Learn to bead on a loom

Become somewhat athletic

So far that's what I've got. Glee is playing now (binging on Netflix) and they are talking about Domestic Violence. I'm home alone, like usual these days, and anxiety is bad. I have brownies cooking for Mama in hopes that it makes her smile. I used a box mix because I have no idea how to bake anything from scratch, nor do I understand what ingredients would be needed. That's why baking is on my list. 

Its time to switch. I'll let you know how my list progress goes.

Alayna Jade

Our Aching Feet.....

Most weekday mornings we head out for a walk. We aim for anywhere between 3 and 5 miles, although sometimes we're lucky to hit two miles.... haha.  The walks weren't something we could really do in our old life. We didn't feel safe enough or comfortable enough and it always seemed like our time was better spent in other ways. Here, though, we are greeted every morning by this sight:

Our mountains wish us good morning (taken 11/1/15 with the samsung S6 around 7:45am).

We really didn't think the walks were accomplishing much except for aching feet. (Pretty sure we have a muscle/tendon problem in the right foot, but no pain no gain, right?!). When Mom realized we were serious about the walking she decided we needed new shoes and that has helped a lot (stupid arch in the right foot is still killing us tho....shhh). We seriously had no shortage of aches and pains but we own a mirror and nothing seemed to be changing. It was getting pretty disappointing, which was leading to feelings of defeat and failure. Those feelings were, in turn, fueling some massive bad energy and I'm willing to bet causing us to overreact to other things. We were getting tired of seeing this (see picture below) and still feeling rejected and worthless (other things contribute to that feeling but this wasn't helping):

This a partial screen shot of our Fitbit Flex today (11/1/15).

The negative emotions were eating us alive. We were second guessing a lot of our recent major decisions and trying to figure out how we had screwed up so badly in life. We were trying to figure out what was wrong with us and why we are always rejected and/or left behind. It was just bad. If you've read other posts, you know how bad things got. Everyone in this house was dealing with their own problems and adjusting to their transitions in their own way. Everyone was battling big things... and we were sick. We spent almost all of last week with a bad cold and a mild fever. That helped NOTHING at all, especially because we couldn't safely go for our walks. We could barely make it safely across the driveway. 

Being down for the count last week, having to rest and not walk seemed like a great thing. It seemed so wonderful to not ache and not deal with the arch pain in our right foot. It continued to seem like that, but our life seemed to be falling apart at the same time. We were a mess, our life felt like a huge mess. 

Thursday of last week Mom insisted that we were not only going on our walk, but that we would complete two miles before coming home. Honestly, I (meaning me, Alayna) was pretty sure she had lost her mind because we were still running a slight fever so in my mind we were still sick. Sick kids don't go for walks. Sick kids binge on Netflix. I wanted us to binge on Netflix. Needless to say, if you've ever met my mother, we lost and we went for our 2 mile walk. We lived through it and Jenna at least, was pretty proud of us for getting it done. Then we went back to hanging out with Netflix. (side note: Netflix is pretty much our only friend here, so we're pretty attached...lol)

Friday morning comes around and Mom, once again, insists on a 2 mile walk. We ended up with close to 2.5 miles on Friday. 

By yesterday, we realized that when we don't walk, we miss a lot of benefits from walking. We miss our park, our mountain, and our trees.

More importantly, we miss out on the good feelings that come from walking. We've always heard that walking releases endorphins and raises mood, blah blah blah. I can honestly tell you that the blah blah blah is real. Our mood and our life was spiraling out of control because we weren't doing what we needed to do in order to take care of ourselves. No, we shouldn't be walking when we're sick but we could have tried sooner. Mom knew though. She knew how badly we relied on that, even when we didn't. She made the choice to force us back into it knowing we didn't feel well. 

That's not to say that our problems as a family were all due to a lack of walking. God I wish it were that easy. No, we as a family have a lot of work to do in order to make everyone feel welcome, safe, and happy. But we can make it better on ourselves and, in turn on our family, by keeping up with our walking. 

This morning, while we were hanging out in Mama's room watching her go through her laundry, she had us try on some pants. Almost everything she gave us to try on fit, and most of them were smaller than what we already had. She had noticed that we were struggling to keep our pants up. We noticed too, kinda, but figured we stretched them out or something. We never considered that we were ready for smaller pants. Her scale (which she only lets us use once a week) showed us today that we have lost 30.2 pounds since we moved here in August. That's huge. It's seriously huge and we never noticed. I spent a bit looking in the mirror today, and I really can't see it. The neighbor sees it. Aunt Leslie says she sees it in pictures. Mom says she sees it. We just don't.

What we do see: Our hair is growing back thicker and in much better shape, our nails are getting healthier, our blood sugar is almost always close to perfect and a blood sugar level of 90 feels great. When we first moved here 130 triggered a low reaction. Our average blood sugar sat around 300 and refused to budge.  

Today, after completing 3 miles and seeing the scale, the clothes fitting differently, and spending some not emotional, perfectly normal time with Mama, I feel good. Not only do I feel good, I feel hopeful, strong, and I feel a weird sort of peace. I don't really feel safe yet, that I think will come in time. I think I need to work on not pushing myself to feel safe. Pushing this system to feel something we aren't ready for or can't seem to grasp always seems to lead to disaster. I think I'm going to do my best to keep my sisters and I looking ahead and I'm going to keep building my support system. I love my family and I won't give up.

Alayna Jade

Heroes

That's the truth. We are just kids. The body may be 34 years old, and our littles may be more advanced in some areas than chronological children, but we are just kids. We range in age from 4-17 years old and we have some stunning lacking skills in the area of social skills and emotional regulation. 

But you see, we have had to become superheroes over time. I guess some of us were created to be heroes. Being a hero is a really big job, and had K and A not been hurt so badly when the body was little (and through most of the rest of our life), there would be no need for most of us and no need for kids to be heroes.

Our system, the huge bunch of kids we are, has done alright through life. Jessa has been an incredible protector throughout the years. Yeah, she's made some awful choices (we all have) but she has been a rock and has been the first in line to help us navigate the murky and sometimes dangerous waters of life. She has been the first to slip out and take some of the worst abuse. She has had the worst things said to her, and has experienced the darkest sides of human nature and has never once held anything against the rest of us. She has been the biggest superhero this system ever had and she rarely misses anything.

Since we moved though, the terrain has been unfamiliar. No one has intentionally tried to hurt us or take advantage of us here. Dad has time and time again gone out of his way to ensure our happiness and our safety. He has made sure the littles know he loves them and thinks of them often... as is evidenced by.....

Real picture from the top of our shelves...

The unfamiliar environment and unfamiliar social setting has made things very hard on Jessa. Jessa, who has worked tirelessly in our life to keep us safe, is at a loss. Nothing she does here is right. Some of what is right feels really wrong (because it's uncomfortable, vulnerable, and unfamiliar), and some of what should be wrong feels familiar. We came here expecting things to be a certain way, and when there was something new inserted into there we tried to fight the new element that we weren't prepared for... and we lost. We lost big time. And while being expendable and inconvenient/unwanted isn't unfamiliar at all, it hurts and we aren't sure what to do with that pain. 

Yesterday was a day of several triggers, none of them small triggers. Jessa went into yesterday already struggling. She had weeks of feeling defeat on her shoulders. When the triggers hit yesterday and we had to work through them all by ourselves all day long, I think it may have broken something inside of her. There was an argument between Mom and the neighbor. The neighbor is Mom's best friend. They had been arguing for about 2 days. It was actually, now that I think about it, the most time Mom has spent with just us since we got here. But anyways, the argument started loud and sounded aggressive. That was all it took. The trigger hit and we were down for the count in a blind panic. What do we do? Do we try and save her? Do we let her fight her own battles? Is there anywhere to turn for comfort? Does anyone want to comfort us? There were so many questions. We ended up with a shower and some TV. Mom and her friend worked through their argument with conversation and weed, which moves into trigger number 2. We are living in a state where that is entirely legal (for inquiring minds) but them high reminds us of our cousin on heroin. We watched her roll unconscious off of our toilet when she took too much one day. The treasures were home for that. The fear, the feelings, the having to make huge decisions, the inconsistencies, the conversations that make absolutely no sense, and most importantly the utter disregard for anyone else's emotions or feelings are all shared between heroin use and weed use. Between the argument and the fact that they were high (which is NOT a problem for them... and only a problem for us because of triggers) and being alone all day (we were alone all afternoon due to an appointment Mom had a few hours away), I think Jessa broke. Last night, after Dad was home from work, Hayley came out for her 1 hour a week and Mom left to go hang out with the neighbor. Dad had left to pick up ice cream at the store so Hayley stayed home alone coloring pictures and sending pictures of her art work to Mom and Dad by messenger. Jessa felt like a complete failure as far as a protector goes because she hadn't expected Hayley to be alone, so she wasn't co-con or even paying attention. This morning K ended up alone all morning because Mom went to have coffee with the neighbor and they were smoking. One of the dogs went missing and K walked for 20 minutes trying to find her while running a slight fever and struggling to breathe. By the time her rotation scheduled was done she was convinced no one wants her and that she's a bad girl. 

Jessa had the scheduled time after that. Mom was back by then and gave Jessa meds and snuggled her up on the parents bed with the remote to their TV and it was quiet and dark and peaceful, but Jessa felt like she had been put away because the neighbor was here and by now I think they all figure we hate him but the truth is, we're terrified of him. His drug use and inability to have a coherent conversation (among other things) already had made us leery and threat assessment on him was very high but after yesterday we are really afraid of him.  

But see, the thing is, we have no reason to be afraid of him. He is NOT a bad person. He's a good guy who has gone out of his way to help us more than once. He's been patient, kind, and has even taught us a thing or two. He's good with the treasures and even better with the dogs. I won't even hold it against him that he likes all the other dogs better than ours... he's still good to her.

After all of this... Jessa has decided she's done being a hero. More specifically she's decided that she sucks at being a hero and that we are obviously too much work, unwanted, inconvenient, and expendable. We are the ones that people feel fine about ditching last minute after making plans and something better comes up. We're the ones that will still be there later so we can be safely ignored in favor of others. The littles hurting is more than Jessa can stomach and she no longer has any desire to fight with anyone about it. Because she's learned that she can beg to talk all she wants, she's going to be turned away. She's going to be told that its not family therapy, that she needs to get a handle on her emotions, that she needs to back down, and that she needs to fix herself... that we all do. 

We try. We try so hard. We bought books about therapy and have worked hard at distraction, visualization, and even imagining a white healing light. We list everything we are grateful for every night before we go to sleep. We talk to each other near constantly, we remind each other to be good, to be kind, to be patient, to be fair. We analyze almost every action and word that comes out of this mouth to see how it could affect someone else. We walk on eggshells so that we can survive, like we have always done. And its still not enough. And Jessa no longer believes that we can ever be enough. 

Jessa posted on Facebook today in a group for systems like ours, specifically protectors, and asked if protectors can resign. She wants to be done with her job as protector and she's decided we failed as members of this family. My heart is broken. It takes me a long time to attach to anyone emotionally and Jessa and are bonded. We are a bonded pair. I have always taken Jessa's presence and activity as a definite. Now there's talk about me taking over the primary protector duties and Jessa taking a break/going dormant. My heart is broken.

We're just kids... we aren't supposed to be heroes.

This is what happens when kids are expected to be heroes. 

Understanding Ourselves....

Henry David Thoreau said "Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves."

We have spent the better part of our lives lost. We didn't really gain much for understanding ourselves.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with that. I just know that today has been rough, almost from the beginning. Jessa was out this morning, and she's struggling hard emotionally and has been for months now. She faced our first major trigger by  9:30am and then the triggers just kept coming.

We have been working hard at reigning in strong emotion and not forcing anyone to pay for our emotional fall out. We succeeded in keeping our emotions quiet so far today, but not with a lot of struggle and a lot of silent tears. We are losing time badly and aren't even positive who is out. I know right now I'm Layna, but I have no idea who was here or what happened in the last hour. Its Cadie's turn at 3pm and I hope we can get that together. 

I just now remembered that the youngest child is here in the house.  I was in a full blown panic because I could hear noises and I didn't know where they were coming from. I was sure that I was in danger... and it wasn't the fist time today we thought we (or someone we love) was in danger. Being faced with triggers like that, especially the big triggers, ends up causing intense fear, dissociation, and paranoia. When faced with big triggers together, like we did today, we become almost emotionally catatonic, or an emotional volcano. 

I hate when it gets like this. I hate when we are triggered so badly that we slide into black outs and losing time. I hate that we can't handle being alone at home for more than a couple of hours. I hate that we are so pathetic. I hate the messages from J and J. I hate the fact that we are expendable and second string. I hate that we are so easy to push aside and not at all worth chasing or talking things out with. I hate that I can not remember what I'm writing right now and I have to keep re-reading to remember. 

 

I hate that today we feel defeated and either useless or a fuck up (can't agree on which). I don't even know what to write about. Noises keep coming from outside and a couple of the dogs keep whining and crying and I have no idea whats causing any of it. The kids that are home keep asking whats going on and I don't have an answer which is making me feel more scared, pathetic, and useless. I've done chores around then house in hopes of proving that we are worth something.... have any kind of value.  Anything that makes up for these PTSD reactions. 

Its now Cadie's turn but we're having trouble switching.We seem to be doing okay co-con. We just can't totally switch. We are gonna have to work on that because Cadie is less emotional than me and I'm freaking out and no one comes home for another 3 hours. so she'd really be the best option. We will have to keep on working on that. I feel so alone. I can't tell if this headache is from the emotions or the cold we are fighting. My eyes burn too. Hoping its not a fever.

**Layna**

When the Parents are the Monsters

I found this image on Pinterest when looking for writing prompts. It is incredibly tempting to create a beautiful story to go with this quote, but it hit a nerve and so this won't be some made up story. 

You see, there are those of us in the world who can understand and relate to this one.  

From the age of 3 the monsters in our life were our parents. More specifically our biological mother and her second husband. He entered our life right after the bio-mother forced the bio-father into leaving. Possibly even before then. Those two had a long history, dating back to the bio-mother's teenage years when she babysat his children from his first marriage. 

From what we can remember, the sexual and emotional abuse and manipulation began right away. Years later, while trying to process everything, I believe we have come to terms with the fact that we were an easy target and quite possibly the only reason he married her. We were 4 when they married and we were someone else's child. Bio-mother was so intent on having her picture perfect family that she kept bio-father as far away as she could, and she turned a blind eye to the things in her life that didn't fit into her perfect family. She was all about appearances. 

Even at 4, (I'm going to use "we" here. It's more comfortable for me.) we knew that we weren't good enough for bio-mom. He told us that on a regular basis. He groomed us to be available to him and he made sure we understood that we had no hope of her ever loving us. By the age of 6 we had been told that she hated us. She hated us, and would be jealous and hate us even more if she knew we were getting his attention. We didn't know... we had no idea that this wasn't happening in every family. We didn't know there was only supposed to be one of us. We had no idea that anything was wrong on a conscious level. 

On a subconscious level we knew. We were a** full blown bulimic by the age of 9. By 12 we were hugely overweight and made to weigh ourselves in front of the family so that he could tell everyone how fat we were. He was sure to tell us that no one would ever want us, we had no hope at a family, marriage, love, or children. We were expendable and not wanted and the only reason we had a roof over our head was because he pitied us. All of this was being fed to us while he abused us sexually. She - bio-mother -  was rarely home. She went out with friends, went to school, went to work... she talked to us on the phone after school everyday but that was simply to tell us what chores she wanted done. When we were alone, the bad things happened. To this day we feel rejected and struggle with nearly paralyzing anxiety when we are alone. We lose time badly and often forget the children are here and rarely remember where they are or what they are doing. 

At the age of 14, we told. We told a camp counselor, who told the camp director. We were at an overnight camp for a week. They reported it all to social services and then sent us home. Bio-mother told us all about how our report was going to cost her the house and her cars. She told us to "shut up about it". She told us that we weren't the first girl it ever happened to and that we probably wouldn't be the last. She told us all about her anxiety, and how her feelings needed to be protected, and how she needed us to give her space to deal with her emotions. She made sure to tell us how hard her life was and how she needed her space. It was 3 years before we heard her say she loved us. As a matter of fact, aside from necessary conversation she pretty much ignored us.

She didn't leave him. We were forced to continue to live with them. It was the early 1990s and reports weren't handled like they are now. She wrote a letter asking social services to close the case and made us sign it (she says it didn't happen like that). They closed the case and left us with them. We spent some time in counseling but that ended when bio-mother was done taking us. 

We left that house at 17. And I wish I could say that was the end of the abuse, but we left there broken. Broken and split. 

How I wish there had been a monster under the bed to protect us from them.

** I understand that there are some issues grammatically.  It was done intentionally and in a way that makes sense to us.

Alayna Jade

Office Hours, Processing, and Jessa

We, or maybe just I, seriously need "office hours". We need to dedicate a time where we can just write, research, learn, grow, think... and to process things. I process things through reading and writing, and using our cell phone to research and write is a lesson in futility... or maybe a lesson in patience... or possibly a bit of both. With so many changes in our life recently processing is soooo seriously necessary.

Right now I'm hiding away in my room with a laptop and music. I feel at peace today. Its a much needed feeling because the family has struggled with transitioning and adjusting and we take the blame for that. We all, as in all 11 of us, take the blame and that gets to be a bit complicated sometimes because we can't possibly ALL be responsible for the family struggling. I started wondering a few days ago why we do that. I started to really think about it but got stuck because I can't seem to process anything without writing and I'm out of notebooks to hand write things in. I prefer writing online anyways.

Why do we automatically assume that we are responsible or to blame for everything?

Well, its certainly not because we believe we are THAT important or because we feel everything revolves around us. That is definitely not it.

After some thought (and a few song changes) I think its because we have been blamed for everything that has gone wrong since early childhood. I don't want to be one of those people who place the blame elsewhere or who complains endlessly about their past, but our childhood is kinda how we ended up a "we" in the first place. Oh... just thought of this possible reason too.... if we take the blame for everything then we don't have to face conflict.

I think that's a real possibility... and I think thats part of what's going on with Jessa. Jessa is the oldest (in age) but still about 16 years old. She's the main protector and has shouldered that responsibility for a long time. She has single handedly made decisions for the system and decided for what we will and won't accept/take responsibility. She's been told before that it would one day backfire, and I think that day may have come.

We are safe here. We have parents, the treasures are here and safe. We have a family. We have extended family now. We have loving aunts, an amazing nana, and the treasures have that too (along with some cousins... whoot!). We have supervision, guidance, and space to be ourselves in entirety. And we have NO idea what to do with all of this. Add to that an absolute inability to understand how to deal with conflict and some seriously immature social skills and you get an epic disaster and an overall emotional explosion.

That's where Jessa is, I think. She's pretty much not communicating at all with anyone at all. She's almost perfect in her politeness. She's staying calm, polite, civil, and out of the way. She's doing her best to not ruffle feathers and is taking care to be productive and useful. And she's miserable. What's worse is that she can't see how uncomfortable and sad she's making other people. She's stuck and can't find her way out of it and refuses to discuss anything with any of her trusted adults because she doesn't want to cause them any trouble. Maybe she doesn't really trust anyone. Maybe she's too scared to be vulnerable.

Vulnerability is a hard one for me, personally. I hate admitting weakness and traditionally my fears, anxieties, and weaknesses have been met with exploitation or just ignored in general. That doesn't inspire me to open up and be vulnerable. I have zero good experience with being vulnerable and I have a hard time talking about hard feelings and emotions when the conversation doesn't change anything. Too many times in my existence people have said they care, they love me, they are going to help me... and then they disregard and ignore my anxieties and leave me literally struggling to breathe and to not dissociate while they go out and have a good time. That kinda gets old. I know Jessa sees that too and she's usually the one that has to help me function through my anxiety so that might make it hard for her to trust too. I'm really not sure.

I know that me, Mia, and Jenna are working our way through some self-help workbooks. We are doing our very best to teach Lyssa and Cadie what we are learning and we are working hard at applying what we are learning. I think its been helping. I mean, we don't feel much different, but family life seems to be running more smoothly.

Now that I think about it, I believe part of why its running more smoothly is because we have finally let go of a power struggle we were having with Mom. We can NOT keep saying we trust her and then treat her like we don't. We understand what we are doing and why, but she doesn't always and that's not fair. And she has her own emotional shit-storm to process too. It doesn't make it any easier for anyone in this house to bond or function well and somehow Dad seems to end up in the middle of it all and that's not cool either.

Mom and Lex had a really really good talk yesterday. Lex has settled in at the age of 4 years old but we have strong reasons to believe she's the original. We did learn yesterday that she understands things far better than we ever gave her credit for. Alexandria has been around for as long as any of us can remember. She hasn't always been active, but she's always been there. Lurking. She's a clever little girl who proved yesterday that she can listen, understand, and apply what she's given for information. It takes her a little while to process everything, if she retains it, but when she applies it she has the ability to calm the entire system and calm our inner world.

I know this is all over the place. I'm about to jump topics again. I need to get it all down now and I can come back later over time and chip away at it.

Triggers... we aren't handling some of our triggers very well. Some of them are worse than we originally thought. Some are really hard to swallow and we are left feeling very alone with them. Others aren't so bad and are clearing up a little, I need to explore the relationship between trust and our triggers.

External people. We have been recently made aware that not all of "us" are accepted by everyone we are around on a regular basis. That has been a bit of a blow. We understand are completely accepting of the fact that not everyone has to accept us all. That part isn't the issue. It's trying to figure out how to keep everyone around us comfortable and happy.

Everyone.

That's kind of a big job. Maybe we shouldn't be worried about keeping everyone happy and comfortable. But if we don't, we are going to lose people we want to keep around. Or lose out on their time and attention. Ick. That's going to take more thought.

Moving on.... Dad's home and dinner will be ready soon.

So I read a really great blog post today about DID being an injury vs an illness. It was such an eye opener. I shared it on our Facebook and can post it here if anyone's interested. DID is not an illness. We are not contagious. We have not contracted a sickness. No amount of meds will make it go away. What it is, is an injury. We were injured at a very young age. Someone deliberately hurt us.

Dad just cut me off.

Later!


~Layna

Except when we don't. Because we are a family and we are real. And lately, we do "leave people out, hurt feelings, yelling, door slamming, frustration, and unrealistic demands of each other". Awesome, huh?

We're a new family. We are still transitioning and learning how to be a family. Every single person in this family... from our system, to the parentals, to the youngest of the treasures.... has issues they are working through. It's like a sea of damaged people coming together and trying to mesh to become this thing called family. Only most of us have no idea what family is or is supposed to be. We all have these ideas in our head that should be good enough but they don't mesh with other ideas and it causes tension and problems. Everyone in this house is trying to learn their place, the rules, the routine. Everyone in this house is struggling with poorly set expectations, dealing with major triggers on a daily basis and being expected to be fine with that, and trying to be what each other needs despite the chaos and lack of communication. Everyone is expecting things from each other that simply can not be obtained... not because anyone is lazy or refusing, but because the skill set isn't there and full trust isn't there yet.

To most, this would look like a recipe for a serious disaster. Honestly, it kinda felt like one for the last few days.

But it's not. It's real. It's raw, its messy, its painful. It's hard and its complex. Without love, it would be doomed. But there's love in this house and in this family. None of us ever give up. We make it through and we come out better for it. We all learn. We all grow. 

This family will make it. Failure isn't an option here.

I just now finally found this blog again. Not one of us could remember what the name was. I'm glad we found it because we badly want to write and we couldn't figure out where to write.

Figuring out what to write isn't hard. It's a pain using the phone to write but right now it's what I've got available.  We are currently visiting Mama's parents 5 hours away from where we live and it's been a great visit. Hung out with the aunt, the treasures played with their cousins and Mama and Mia went for a drive. It ended with Mama getting angry at us but to be honest most things do lately. We are far from good enough.  I'm ready to go home now. I miss our Dad, Lulu, Sophie, and our bed.

One good thing that came from Mama being mad was that it gave us motivation to ask Mama for some self help materials. She said yes and they've been ordered and will hopefully be at the house on Monday.  We looked up support groups in Denver but couldn't find any geared to DID. We did find a hospital with an outpatient program if it gets that bad. I don't see it getting that bad but it's an option and it's good to know.

This weekend has been a bit tough as far as external social interactions go. We had a heated discussion with our bio mother over text message and then our neighbor got mad at Mama and he's behaving exactly like our bio mother does. The trigger there sucks.

I have a massive headache. I want to write more and write about Mia's awakening but autocorrect is pissing me off and my head hurts so bad I can't put my thoughts in order.  ~Jennaleigh

The Worst is Over Now.....

.... so what the fuck is wrong with us?

Cadie touched on it some yesterday. Not gonna rehash that, its boring crap anyways.

I woke up in a fairly decent mood... and then I had to get out of bed. Instantly everything was stupidly overwhelming. I couldn't remember who was supposed to do what (thank God for the schedule/checklist Mama made), or what time anything was supposed to happen. I made it through most of it without taking it out on the kids, which is good because its not their fault they were born to a mommy who is falling apart, and I hit the shower. I was seriously relived to see the neighbor (who is more like an uncle/nanny) sitting in the living room directing the kids to finish up their morning routine. It was one less thing I had to focus on and my good mood returned.

Uncle Neighbor and I took the kids to school. Right before we left Girl 2 mentioned that today is half-day Wednesday. That totally caught me off guard because I had forgotten all about the half days every Wednesday. On the way home he mentioned plans for today that we had no idea were happening and immediately the anxiety creeped back in and the mood was shattered. Cadie had asked yesterday what the plans were for today and the answer she was given and had emotionally prepared for did not match how this morning was portraying the day. I spent the rest of the walk home wondering if we have finally shattered emotionally. We never used to have a routine, stability, or structure, so why is it now that the smallest deviation from what we have emotionally prepared for launches a full blown anxiety attach? Kenzie is a fucking emotional disaster and I know that is a large part of our issues. Jessa is back but has no faith in herself or her abilities to keep us safe and well. I'm not sure I can do it either, but I know Jessa can.  She's always done it before.

I have such a headache this morning. The anxiety is too bad to even try to eat.

In a Land Far Far Away....

we have a story. a long one. doesn't everyone?

my name is cadie. i'm a member of a well established DID system. the body is 33 years old and the mother of 4 children under the age of 12. our system is made up of 10 of us, including the original. we have been hiding for a very long time and recently that has changed. we no longer have to hide.

for the first time in about 30 years, we are somewhere completely safe and with people who are determined to keep it that way. we are getting help parenting, and learning new skills, and learning to make better choices. in order to do this we had to move 2200 miles from the place this body was born and raised. all of that happened about 20 days ago.

there are 10 of us in this system. im cadie and im 12-14ish but im also an age slider so i end up all kinds of ages, but never over 15. the 10 of us consider ourselves sisters and are pretty much like your typical sibling group. we fight, argue, and irritate, but we protect fiercely.

lexi is 3. she's can't read or type so she won't be contributing here. truthfully she doesn't care about much except the color yellow, toys, and snuggles.

hayley is 4. she likes pink, and unicorns, hello kitty, and snuggles from mommy and daddy.

bri is 5. she likes unicorns, blue, and stickers with her daddy.

kenzie is 6. she's the core/original. she hates her legal name and refuses to have any part of it. she likes to be safe and feel loved.

josslyn is 9. she loves butterflies.

lyssa is 12. she's emotional, argumentative, and confusing.

jenna is 15. she's nurturing and calming. she takes on too much and overthinks everything.

layna is 16ish. she's the secondary protector. she can be cold, hard, and immovable. she often makes people wish they had never met us. she can be completely compliant, or completely definant/rebellious and there's rarely a good explanation of why.

jessa is 17. she's the main protector. up until recently she had no real emotions and no real use for anyone outside of our system.


many of us will probably be writing here. we'll be doing it more for our family and each other than anyone else, but we welcome new friends. see, our recent move, and the circumstances that led up to the recent move, seem to have shaken the system in a huge way. the move is a good thing. the best thing for us, but change seems to hit us hard.

we're finding that not having to hide, while being a relief, is really really really painful to adjust to. its something we need and desperately want, but it's like being in the dark for years and then stepping into the sunlight. its warm and welcoming, but its blinding and painful.

we are living with mama and daddy. they adopted us and are teaching us all kinds of things we should have learned forever ago. they accept and love each of us, and all 4 of our babies. they are amazing people with infinite amounts of patience, while keeping control and structure in place which is something we have never had. the structure and rules are comfortable like a hug. the organization here is intriguing because we've never experienced anything like it. the whole experience has almost been surreal so far, and is almost too good to be true. their neighbor is a goofy guy who has fallen into the "manny" role with surprising ease.

too good to be true.

we are terrified of fucking this up. we are so afraid of screwing it up, in fact, that we're an emotional disaster. to be fair there are other reasons for the emotional chaos right now too but that's a huge one. we don't deserve anything like this. we don't have a history of being good girls or making good choices. what right do we have to such an incredible life?

im having a hard time centering my thoughts i think. earlier today jessa fell apart and her emotions are affecting me a lot. she's afraid that she's messed up a lot of stuff and momma left to go run errands and jessa was scared to be alone.... she was sure she was going to fail at her job protecting us. right now we kinda don't need a protector because we're well protected and i think that's actually a huge part of jessa's problem. she's wondering what her role is. we're all wondering where we fit in and if we actually belong because we don't seem to have a purpose and we definitely aren't very useful here. when jessa freaked, layna went to comfort her and now we have no idea where either of them are and that kinda sucks and is really scary because we were alone and because we love them both so much and jessa is our gatekeeper. i don't think she realizes how good she does.

jenna has been with the littles, keeping them calm. they were really scared. a lot of this is scary but not in a bad way. its hard to explain. i just lost my train of thought tho and this is really long enough right now.


~cadence danielle~