I’m Sierra.    I am 26.     I am the soul who most resembles in looks the body.   Most look different. I am slightly taller. 
Did you even know that we have a world inside?   A world to live in and occupy ourselves when we aren’t in this outside world? 
As you will notice we all prefer different colors to write in. 
Most of us will use a different  color  to post, and sign our names at the bottom. There may be a few entries by anonymous members.
 I came into existence many years ago.  I don’t recall my birth,  or even how old I was when I came into being.  I consider the bodies parents to be my own parents, most in here do not see the bodies parents as there own.  
I aged with the body for a long time. I was what we call the front person. That means that it was my job to be in the body from day to day, when someone else wasn’t in it.     For a long time I hadn’t a clue that I was in fact part of a multiple system. This made for an interesting life.
People were always saying I had done or said something that I was quite sure I hadn’t.   I was a loner, as peers thought I was odd.   They whipspered when I walked by, often pointed and laughed.    Mother was always saying I was scatterbrained and would forget my head if it wasn’t attached.   
**Note: When We use the term ‘I’ it is meant in reference to only whomever uses the term. When we talk about ourselves all together,we say we, or the Berriez.**
 I am the one who was in the body  and began to suspect something was very wrong.  It was a long difficult journey, which concluded with me going inside to take a job, for many years.   More about that as this blog progresses.
I have always on and off heard voices not my own.   Sometimes too the hands will move or the mouth will speak without my moving them.   I honestly thought everyone did.
I still remember my surprise at learning that it isn’t normal to see yourself in memories from behind. 
While I don’t talk to Alex inside at all. I will contribute to this blog.    The note said it is private for now, and can only be read by people we invite to read it. This means it feels safe. 
Strangely enough I find myself lacking in words and unsure what to say.  
I grow tired and foggy, which for us is a sign of a switch. 
All who write here will have agreed to not edit anyone else’s entries.


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