Sierra’s path to discovery of being multiple-#1
Our hope is that by getting to know bits about us you will understand multiples a bit better. We hope that if you ever meet a multiple in real life you will not automatically turn away, but you will give them a chance and hold out your hand for friendship. Being a multiple can be an isolating thing, to have friends is not easy, especially after a lifetime of loosing them due to being strange.
Who knows perhaps you already know a multiple and just don’t realize it.
I found that writing this down, putting it out there for people to see (albeit a small group of people) is not easy.
This will be just bits and pieces of stuff that is recalled. With Ray’s Secret identity Posts in his blog for instance there is a clear timeline. For me ,for us there is no real clear sense of time. That said some things I can put order based on common sense.
I will only tell the story bits of my own. The rest of the story is not mine to tell. Other bits of the story are the stories of other souls to tell and you will here from some of them in later entries. Some will write themselves and some will tell me or another Patch member what to write.
There are things we will not talk about. Things that are quite private and not meant for here. You will not ever hear about how we became multiple. That isn’t a story anyone wants to hear and is not one we are capable of telling. You will not ever hear any identifying information for location or the name of the body. You will only hear from a selected few Patch members, only some of whom will speak themselves and give their names.
My story, my memories begin at best guess somewhere between grade 7 and 8
I am sitting on a bed in a bedroom thinking ‘ this is a nice room.’ As I sat there looking around stuff began to float through my head. Strange things like ‘my’ name, ‘my’ parents names, where I lived, I saw pictures of things, a person talking to a lady, an image of this same person walking to school. A voice called “Time for dinner”
I recall being in a winnabego. You know a camper. I recognized the brother. As I was looking around more stuff began to float through my head, the name of the friend who was sat there, where we were going (Disney World) Again ‘my’ name floated through my head.
Suddenly I realized I was at Disney World. As I wondered how I suddenly was standing in line for space mountain more things floated through ‘my’ mind. Images of ‘me’ arriving at the campsite, images of what had been done since I last could recall. I didn’t give any thought to it. After all this happened to everyone, I was sure of it.
Somewhere between 7th and 8th grade the friend,Renee was angry and saying that I didn’t show up wherever it was we were to meet. Only thing was I had no idea what she was talking about. I waited for the knowledge of what happened to float into my head, only it never came. I never did find out where I was to meet that friend. She told me that it wasn’t the first time it happened. After saying it was the final straw, that she knew I was strange but that this was too weird for her, she told me never to talk to her again. I was quite ashamed and never did.
I berated myself as was usual, and wrote it off quickly to a bad memory and to not trying hard enough to remember, a message that many authority figures in life said to me a lot.
Sometime later ………
I clearly recall Penny (a junior high/high school friend) saying “hey where are you going”. I realized at that moment that I was running away from her. I waited for an image for some words to float to me about what was going on only nothing ever did. I don’t recall now what I told her. I know I just made something up. If she didn’t buy my story she never asked about it.
I was shocked when I found out that it wasn’t normal to experience memories how I did.
It set off a series of events……..
We were sat on a swing set talking, Penny and I………. I don’t recall what was being discussed, perhaps something about dreams, or memories. I told her something I remembered and not realizing it wasn’t normal I mentioned how I saw the entire body as if I was looking at it from behind and slightly above. I recall her turning to me and saying something to the effect of ‘ what are you talking about that isn’t how memories are, that isn’t normal.’ After she assured me none of her memories were like that, I managed to stammer out that it was just a fluke, and that it wasn’t how memories usually were to me. Judging her reaction I knew I couldn’t tell her that was how 99% of my memories were. I didn’t want to be different and I didn’t want her to think I was strange. She was the only friend I had and I didn’t want loose her friendship………
I suddenly felt this strange sensation. Something running down the arm, at first I thought it was water. I looked down and saw blood running down the arm. At that moment I heard footsteps on the stairs and mom calling, ‘what are you doing with the door closed?’ As her footsteps grew closer, I realized I only moments to decide what to do.
To be continued………….
comedy sketch involving a roomful of dissociative people trying to make dinner….
Hey, um….. You…. I’m hungry.. could we make dinner now?
I wanna eat. Let’s make something.
Huh? Uh- what? Ok.
What do you want to eat?
Umm… I don’t know.
Ok, hand me the thing…
You Know.. the THING. Over there….
Hand me the thing.
[phone rings] I’ll put the phone in the oven.
In the oven?
Yes, what’s wrong with that?
You don’t put the phone in the oven… they’re too tough to eat.
I know that.
Then why did you tell me to put the phone in the oven?
I said no such thing.
Yes you did.
You’re making this up….
You’re making it up.
Making WHAT up?
What about the oven?
Aren’t we going to eat?
I’m not hungry.
You just said you were hungry.
No I didn’t.
Who’s Out First (a parody of Who’s On First)
Ok, so who’s out first?
No Who was out yesterday.
Ok, I’m asking you who was out and you’re telling me Who?
Well who are you?
I’m not Who, I’m Nobody.
But you can’t be nobody – you have to be somebody.
No, Somebody’s generally angry.
Who is angry?
No, Who is happy.
Angry is also angry.
Of course angry is angry, but you’re definitely somebody.
No, I’m Nobody.
Ok, let me see if I have this…. you’re no one..
No, I’m Nobody…. No One was out this morning.
No one was out?
Yeah, No one.
Well if no one was out, who was I talking to?
No – No One.
Something’s wrong here….
No, Something has been sleeping for a while.
Who has been sleeping?
No, Something has been sleeping. Who was out yesterday.
But something has to be someone, doesn’t he?
No, Someone is a he, Something is a she.
Huh is asexual.
Excuse me, I’m going to commit suicide.
You can’t – that’s Suicide’s job.
10 REASONS WHY I WOULD FALSELY ACCUSE SOMEONE OF INCEST OR SEXUAL ABUSE
I needed a new reason to stay in therapy or I would have to leave.
2. I wanted to suddenly start having tremendous difficulty in relating to my partner, lose all my trust & alienate him/her to the point where we would begin fighting constantly and then have to break up.
3. I decided, for a change of pace, I would begin to experience bouts of intense suicidality.
4. I thought it would be a good idea to experience, first hand, what a mental institution or prison was like.
5. I wanted to get back at my parents/grandparents for all the loving, supportive, caring things they had done to me as a child.
6. I wanted to be disbelieved and called a “liar” by every “respected” newspaper, talk show and radio interviewer, “expert”, “scholar”, lawyer, “friend”, and family member.
7. I felt left out and wanted to desperately belong somewhere.
8. I got worried that my self-esteem was too healthy and thought I’d like to rectify the situation.
9. I wanted to be different, special, and get lots of attention by breaking down and becoming incapable of taking care of myself.
10. I wanted to wake up in the middle of the night screaming in terror, unable to breathe, re-experiencing over and over again the times I was raped as a child.
*Loosely re-created from a flyer done by FIST (fabulous incest survivor’s Tirade) during the Examiner’s “false-memory syndrome” series. Done by Jezanna Rainforest
From the handouts of The Sexual Assault Center.
This is one of many of the Berriez favorite quotes. They find it inspiring:
Has No Voice was a mystery to the Medicine People of her Tribe. She had never spoken. The long years of silence had convinced her family that she would never utter a word. The child heard and was able to communicate through hand signs, but everyone had lost hope that she would ever sing or raise her voice in thanksgiving during Ceremony.
It was certain that Has No Voice’s childhood had been strange. She was born under a stand of willows where her mother had gone to bring her into the world. The first hours of her young life were fraught with horrible events when her Tribe’s camp was raided by their nearest enemy’s war party. Has No Voice’s father found them and protected them, losing his life in the process.
One day, in her seventh winter of life, Has No Voice was taken ill. She had eaten some bad food and was retching. The Medicine Man was called. As Has No Voice felt her stomach convulse, a curious thing happened. Sounds came up with the rotten meal. More sounds came out of her as the astounded members of her family heard the cries of wounded and fearful people. The Holy Man smiled as he explained that as a newborn she had swallowed the sounds, knowing that if she cried, she and her mother would die. The stomachache had allowed her to throw up her fear and to heal.
Has No Voice earned a new name when she reclaimed her gift of speech: now she is called Has No Fear.
Twenty-third Meditation of the Sixth Moon
“Earth Medicine – Ancestors’ Ways of Harmony for Many Moons”
by Jamie Sams
The Others Husband (that’s right I don’t consider myself married to him which he is aware of) and I were talking about Idiots when he said something he heard once That had me really laughing (which I don’t often do) so i Thought I’d Share it. Alex
‘you are such an idiot you couldn’t dump piss out of a boot if the directions were printed on the bottom of the boot’
Sublime sorrow, a black crow come to claim my soul.
Doesn’t matter anyway, since I can never more be whole.
Seeking the truth, but hanged upon a tree without a trial.
Scales of justice, out of balance for such a long while.
The blindfold out of place, and sight too much to bear.
Supplicant knees bent in a fruitless, sacrificial prayer.
Soul, bartered away, precious acres, for worthless beads.
Not understanding that worthless baubles can’t fill needs.
Flesh, flayed, hanging in tatters, flag left out in the rain.
Not one left to mourn or, in sympathy, feel the pain.
Passers by stepping over, but never taking time to see.
Broken bit of humanity, that once upon a time, was me.
Hollow scent of death, fills nostrils that can not smell.
Descent so long past, that none remembers when I fell.
The perfume of wisteria hiding the decay of its host.
Hope abandoned, happiness forgotten–just a ghost.
Sublime sorrow, a black crow come to claim my soul.
Doesn’t matter anyway, since I can never more be whole.
A CHILD DOES DWELL
There is a place, deep inside my heart
Where a frightened child does dwell.
Her fright is so deeply planted,
And she has hidden it so very well.
Oh little girl, you were so wounded
By cruel words and a rough hand;
But now you hurt us still, by refusing
To let passion bloom for any man.
Trust please, that the Goddess’ love
Will heal whatever needs to be;
We deserve what every woman needs,
And you are part of me.
© Copyright 1/7/06
Beth Johnson (Mystic Amazo