My dad.

 My dad was hospitalized last Tuesday (this is Monday) for pain.  

They did all kinds of testing and determined it was his gallbladder.  Once they got in there, they found his gallbladder was necrotic and gangrenous.  He also has sepsis.

He is now on intravenous antibiotics for three days.  If he survives the three days, then he might make it.   Here is my issue, and what I am dealing with.

My dad is my step dad.  He has defended my mother and the atrocities that are her own.  He has forbidden me for ever speaking to my mother about my childhood abuse.  He, knew about the letter to the Southwestern Baptist Seminary, that my mother wrote to them to gain admission.  He knew that she completely omitted my existence, lied, and he has allowed this to dictate his Pastorhood.   He has been living a lie about me, so he could stay a pastor.  

However, he has never hurt me physically.  He adopted me into his name at the age of 14.  He was always so good to me...he took care of me best he could....he is a good man.  Just caught and stuck in a lie he could not or would not rectify.  

So, when he became sick, this caused so much confusion with me....if he died,  I would never be able to tell him about my DID, I would never have any closure....so I was angry about that.

But also, he was in so much pain, even talking about dying and that he was ready to go.....that hurt my heart.

I buried my birth father, which was so hard....then I am confronted with possibly burying my step father.   

I did not get closure to the step dad that horribly abused me, he is already dead and gone....no answers, no satisfaction of him knowing that I know now...that I remember.  When my birth father died, I had no ideal the extent of my brain condition, I did not know I had DID, I did not remember all the abuse, so I never got to tell my daddy...

No closure there either.

Why couldn't it be my mother who is sick?  Why does she get to live?  I will never have closure with her either...she does not speak to me.

I want my step dad to live.  I want him to be healthy...I want to tell him everything I remember I want him to know WHO I AM.  

Despite everything, despite him protecting my mother, despite him lying...I love him.  He is my dad.   

I hate learning about my DID so late in life, my abusers are dead, except for my mom...my mom and step dad are in their 80's now, old and sick...How can I tell them???  Is it cruel of me to want to talk with them, to bring up the past?  My dad once told me "everyone makes mistakes", "you need to get on with your life"...he said that after I told him how I felt about the seminary letter.  He never apologized, basically told me to "get a life".....with answers like that, I will never get to explain myself.

What kind of a life do I have now???  The past has shaped and molded my present to the point that I am mentally sick.   How do I let that go and get on with my life???

Will I ever get to "speak my truth"?  I think not.   I will be forever "in the closet", I will be forever silenced...I will never be accepted and loved in my family...I will always be the "outsider", the "black sheep", the "unwanted" one.  And that hurts so much...because they are so against me,  I will never be loved...I will never be accepted...

I have been a loner since birth, and I guess I will be a loner the rest of my pathetic life.   People say "I don't need acceptance, I don't need my family, I don't need anything"...but that is just simply not true.  People need people.  People need family and a sense of belonging...

I do not have that, I have never belonged...never will...even if my dad lives, and gets healthy again, I will still be alone...

If it weren't for my advocate, I would literally be all by myself...

I am an orphan in a family of many...

S, 7

no closure

 Have you ever wondered why some people have horrible lives, filled with pain and suffering, whether physical or emotional and can never catch a break?

Are these people somehow flawed?  Were their very births on purpose solely for abuse?   Is their DNA flawed?  Are they not the "survival of the fittest?"  Are they somehow not "fit" to survive?  You see that in the animal/creature world, the weak or afflicted are left to die by their mother.  Or in some instances they are even eaten by their mother.....

I feel like that is me.  

Somehow, I am flawed and not fit.  I feel like my mother has eaten me alive and spit me back out....I feel like by being born, I was sentenced to a life of confusion, humiliation, abuse, ridicule and sickness.

Why was I chose to be born into a horrific life?  Is my DNA flawed?  I am certainly not in the "fittest" shape....I am plagued with physical disease and mental disease...

Maybe I was born healthy....but the abuse, both physical and mental and emotional slowly began to alter my DNA...not only did the stress of my life alter my mental capabilities, but it has also affected my body as well.

I truly believe I would be a more healthy adult had I not suffered so much as a child, as a teenager and as an adult.

So now I not only have to deal with my mental disorder called DID and depression, I have to deal with health issues beyond my control...health issues that are a direct result of stress and abuse.

Maybe I was born a healthy little baby girl....but my parents ruined me, they systematically killed my spirit, and my body is still dying...I am breaking down...brain tumors, horrible stomach issues, constant pain both physical and emotional...

I believe there is only so much emotional pain and baggage a person can carry...I have been carrying mine so long, my arms ache...my mind is tired and my body is tired...even when I try to put the baggage down, it is like my baggage is glued to me, it will not let go...

Trying to learn about my DID, to understand it, to embrace it, to speak out about it, only tires me....my mind is exhausted, all I want to do is sleep, but sleep for me is a restless chore....It is a chore for me to try and relax my mind, to put away thoughts, to rest.  My mind goes 90 to nothing all day long and all night long...it never fucking stops.

It is a fucking sad day when the only time I can effectively sleep is when I take a Xanax or other drug that shuts my brain off.  

How sad it takes a drug for me to sleep....Again, flawed DNA....

Once a long time ago, I was talking to a "friend" in the church about my brain tumors and such...I was like "why me???"  a question everyone asks about themselves when they are going through something hard or difficult.  My "friend" said, "why not you?  do you think you are so special that hardships should not affect you?"  

That offended me to no end....I was just venting and this person made me feel like even more shit, thank you christian....

But seriously..."why not me?"  I am not special at all...for whatever reason the universe has for me, that reason has not been revealed...

It is sad that I do not believe in Heaven, because I would so love to be in a place with no pain, no suffering, no abuse...just happiness...but, there is no heaven....there is no hell, unless you describe hell as a state of mind...

I REALIZE OTHERS HAVE IT WAY WORSE THAN ME...DUH, there is always someone worse off, and I get that....my gripe is, I will never get better...I will always be sick, and that gets old, and I am tired of fighting.  Because the battle I am fighting, I have absolutely no way of winning....and that is what makes it "worse" for me. 

So, this is what is in my head right now...I think my biggest "ailment" is the fact that I have no closure....I will never have closure....I will always be left asking "why"?

S 

Over having DID

 I am so "over" having DID.  

When I was first diagnosed, it was a shock and a relief...I finally knew why I was the way I was.   I knew exactly what was wrong with my head.  And it has helped.

The therapy, going through the memories, dealing with the trauma etc has been hard, gut wrenching and frankly sad.  Realizing the extent of the damage done to me as a small child, breaks my heart.  No child should have to endure the type of abuse I sustained.  But, it is still happening today...todays abusers are creating tomorrows DID adults.

I do not want to be a spokesperson for DID.  My abuse and trauma is not an issue I am proud of, nor is it an issue I want to be a "figure" for.  Nor is it an issue I want to talk about.

Admitting to people, my disorder, my abuse etc...is humiliating to me.  I am embarrassed by my past, my mother, my family...I am embarrassed to have DID.  It is embarrassing to know I am not "normal"....I just want to be like every other normal "singlet"...with normal issues, normal families, and a normal life.  But I will NEVER have that.  I will never be NORMAL.  

How do I accept that?   I was not in some car accident or war zone, and I did not catch any disease,  I have no physical outward scars, on the outside I look like everybody else....My alters are not chaotic, which I guess is a blessing.  I have been told I have Structural Disassociation.  Meaning all my alters have specific "duties" they perform for me, very structured.  I front most of the time, me Sparrow...I am the host.  None of my alters jockey for position, they are all content with me being the host....did they jockey for position when I was small?  

Is Sparrow nothing but an alter that won the election to be host?  Am I nothing but an alter as well?  Just who was born with the physical body, who had the first mind?  Was I born with DID?  Is that even possible?  

In Oklahoma, Tessa was the "host" most of the time...Is she the real "mind" and "body"?  Am I the "fake" host here in VA?  Who was the host when I was a small girl?  A teenager?  

It seems so unbelievable at times that I have a split personality...I can feel so fucking "normal", then, I am not.

With DID,  I am always second guessing myself...now, when I am with a lot of other "singlets", like my jeep groups,  I am so afraid of being "myself" with them, being exposed...I have to constantly be on guard,  it is exhausting trying to be normal like everybody else...its a battle in my head.

I am so afraid of making real friends...because I am so different and weird and strange.  Not conducive to relationships...

So I am over having DID....I wish all the alters would go to bed and sleep and never wake up....sometimes I wish that for the host too, whoever that is, because I don't have a fucking clue.

S

I was the host most of her life.  It was my body, my mind and my actions and decisions that guided her.  The host, is the one that is responsible for everyone's actions...I kept her in line, and a couple of the others...She is not able to do that.  When I am fronting, which is most of the time, I give her sight into what I am doing usually...that way she feels she is in control because she remembers most of the day.  She thinks she did the laundry, or cleaned the house or whatever, but, she is just "seeing" me or herself doing these things...this is normal....this is the way she has lived, the way we all have lived.  I understand that she wants to be the boss...but I cannot allow that.

Tessa

trail ride

 I love my jeep.  I got to go on my first night trail ride, and there were many water crossings...one was pretty deep and over 50 yards wide...I was so nervous about crossing it, but my little ole Cherokee sailed through the water crossings like a champ!  In fact, it was so smooth it looked effortless....watching the Wranglers go through the water crossings, their jeeps rock back and forth and look like they could topple over...but mine, being longer based, heavier and more aerodynamic it was almost like a floating boat!  

I think my Cherokee impressed the other jeepers, which was 16 jeeps in all on this ride.

Another thing about my jeep...when I am driving it, I am not thinking about my depression, or my DID or anything else.  I am enjoying the ride of my jeep.  Getting off the beaten path, is so refreshing, and energizing.  I cannot wait until the next night or day trail ride...

The particular jeep group I rode with "0lllllll0, unbiased" is accepting of all jeep models, no ribbing, or ridiculing or saying "its not a real jeep", they are so awesome and really great group of people!  

They are close knit and everyone helps everyone on the trail...NO JEEP LEFT BEHIND...I love that.

S

 

communication and confusion

 So,  I am having more and more trouble with confusion.  

Kevin and I will discuss or talk about something.  Then later when I come back to that conversation,  I had a totally different take on the subject matter.   Kevin will not see and cannot understand when I get confused.

For example:  we needed some 2 way radios.  He said he had some in his trailer, just inside the door. (his words)  (So in my head, just inside the door means: open the door, reach in and check to see if they are there)...right?

Then when I mentioned it again, I was told that he has to move stuff out of the way to get to the box where he thought the 2 way radios were in.

Move shit out of the way?  He said it was right inside the door?  How did I get confused about that???  He totally did not get what I had heard him say.....then when I got frustrated that his communication to me was not clear, he only became more defensive.

Anymore we miscommunicate all the time.  

I am sure it is all me.   I am the dumb stupid one that does not understand plain english.  I get confused, then frustrated because he just flat cannot understand why I assumed something was one way when in fact, it is not that way at all....at least in HIS head.

I am not dissing him.  But I do feel that he does not listen to me as much as he "hears" me,  his mind is always processing something, whether it is a building project, a cleaning project, something he listened too on Youtube or whatever....Just like when I was trying to explain to him why I thought the 2 way radios were by the door, he said they were.  He could not understand why I was so frustrated, obviously the radios were not by the door if he had to move shit around to get to them........(when I tried to explain that, he just did not get it)...

So, in order to stop my confusion and frustration, I am no longer going to say anything to him about shit.   Because either him or me speaks german....

I also firmly believe that he is losing his hearing.  He says no, its tinnitus, but its more.  I always have to repeat myself, cause he says "what", "I didn't hear you", and the TV and his cell are always up so fucking high in volume because his hearing is going bad.  I wish he would get it checked again.   Either that, or my hearing is bad and I whisper.....or I speak pig latin....ugh

Its probably all me, as usual.  I am sure I am getting this all wrong,  because he is always right and I am always wrong.  That is just the basic fact of the matter.  Not a diss to either him or me, it is what it is.  I am a fucking dumb ass.  Period.

S,7

from Tessa

 This is Tessa.

I have been contemplating speaking for myself on her You Tube channel.  I am a Christian and I want others to know that.  She is so vocal about being a Pagan, which is her choice, but my choice is to be Christian.

I would like other people to know that it is okay to be Christian and Pagan.  I would also like to explain what I do for her.  

If it was not for me, her life would be disorganized and chaotic.  I keep her grounded.  I keep her head above water, and I keep her out of jail.  She is not aware, but I help her all the time.

I keep her on the straight and narrow as they say.

My only concern with being on camera, is the confusion and worry she will have.  

Almost her entire family has lived with me.  I was the one married to John.  I was the one involved in the church.  It was me, that managed that dog park...of course she helped and was the spokesperson, but as far as the management, and working with volunteers, that was mostly  me.  She was the one that interacted with the dogs, and Sammy helped her in teaching sign language to them and the owners.  I really don't care that much for dogs, so I let her do the dog part.  It was me that managed the finances and kept the home in order and clean.  It was me that was with John at his office obligations when he wanted her there.  I find it so weird that neither John or the kids or anybody else for that matter did not realize that it was me, and not her.  It was me that attended high school and college.  I gave her knowledge.

I mean if her friend noticed a difference, why couldn't anybody else?  But I am glad they did not...it would not have went well for her.  Just like with Lilly, she would have been subjected to so much crap if they knew of me, and the rest of us.  I am learning about the DID too, but I have always known that we live in her head.  Now I know the name of it.  I am also sad at the same time.  I like my job, if you will, in her life and I don't want that to change, but it is.

There is so much I would like to say about my part in her life.  

Tessa

red brick dream...

 So last night I had a very specific dream, and it was in color.

Kevin and I were driving in a rural area with houses, but each house had acreages around it...

I saw the house.  It was pretty much square in build, it was a one story red brick, but it also had three very specific brick columns, all in a row. ( ground to roof) fashioned just outside a big picture window.

In my dream, I could see myself looking out of the dining room window and seeing those three columns outside the window.   

As we were driving around the house, a carport was on the latter side, and a red mustang was parked in the carport.

In my dream, I said, they are home...then I woke up.

I felt all tingly and nervous and somewhat scared when I awoke.  There is something there, because every time I dream in color and it is so specific, that usually means a "memory".  I believe one of the alters is giving me a memory....they tend to release memories very slowly through dreams.  

So anyway...I am trying not to fixate on that dream...I will get on with my day....because I know, that if an alter is trying to give me a memory, it will take time so I cannot fight it.  It will come when it comes. then my advocate, the alter the dream is associated with, and myself, Sparrow the host, can process and work through the dream/the memory.

S, Tessa

The Beast of Acute PTSD

 I am going to talk about acute PTSD and DID.  I am going to talk about a specific PTSD account in my own life.

When I was a small child around 5-6 yrs old, a military aircraft crashed behind my house...I witnessed this crash...I spoke about this event in an earlier blog post from March 1, 2020, if you want to go back and see the documented evidence of this military disaster.

Now, when this happened, almost immediately the event was erased from my mind, taken away. repressed if you will.

Fast forward to April of 1995.  I was living in Oklahoma City, on the 19th of April, the Murrah Federal Building in Downtown OKC was bombed.  I happened to have been standing in my yard when this happened...I felt the concussion of the explosion under my feet, I heard the explosion, I saw the smoke in the air, and immediately my mind went to "plane crash"...why?  I don't know, the earliest reports were natural gas explosion...it was later revealed that it was a bombing by Ryder truck, but my head would not get rid of "plane crash"....after the bombing I started to have nightmares of planes crashing, in my dreams I saw the planes in the air, faltering and falling to the earth in a horrific explosion, I would try and run to the plane to help, but I was paralyzed, I could not move...these dreams were several times a week.  I blew them off as just a repercussion of the bombing.  Then, I started having issues with the sound of low flying planes...if they got too loud, or I felt like they were flying too low, I would start to panic, sweat, and shut down...waiting for the plane to crash into me...this just got worse and worse over the next years.

I started to remember, or think "have I seen a plane crash before?"  I felt like I had, but I could not put my finger on it.  Eventually I became so afraid of airplanes I refused to fly.   My paranoia got worse and worse.

I believe I was trying to remember, and yet the alters were working frantically to keep that memory from me...but the trigger of the bombing cracked that protective repression of that memory.  It was coming to the surface...so I started asking my mom, was there a plane crash when I was little, did I see a plane crash, how come I am remembering a plane crashing at our house???she said that never happened and I just have a vivid imagination....so I let it go, why would she lie about an event like that?

But the dreams and paranoia only got worse...

Finally I left Oklahoma and moved away, to a safe place.  Once here in Virginia, I started talking about my weird over the top memories, I told my advocate about seeming to remember a plane crash among other things.  Well, he decided to go on the internet and research the dates and times and place of where my memory of the crash might have happened.

He found documented proof of a military plane crashing just behind my house, just like I remembered, even down to describing seeing the tail of the plane sticking out.  IT WAS TRUE...OMG...

WHY DID MY MOM LIE TO ME?

Everything started making sense, I did not dream or make this up.  I witnessed, heard and smelled that crash.   I was dragged down off the chain link fence I climbed up on to see better,  the phone ringing off the hook, the chaos, the fascination...all of it.

The trauma of witnessing a horrific plane crash was a PTSD making event.   But I had no ideal.   Not until 1995 and the bombing triggered the series of events to unlock my repressed memories, to encourage my alters to slowly start giving me more and more memories.

Acute PTSD can be dormant for a long time, but it only takes one specific event to unleash the traumatic memories and the horrific emotional distress of that moment.  PTSD can affect your thought patterns, your decisions, your fears without even knowing why you feeling or thinking a certain way...it hides in your brain.  You think you are crazy, you cannot understand why certain things "freak you out so much", it makes no sense, especially to others....they just think you are over reacting or just being theatrical....exaggerating for attention..so you stuff those "irrational thoughts" down...

Which only makes the PTSD worse...I have pretty much remembered the whole plane crash ordeal...the pilot ejected but died hitting the ground, that was in the article...I initially thought I did not remember seeing any bodies on the ground...but did I?  I have a very vague memory of seeing like mounds of smoking debris...was one of those mounds the pilot??  That is a question that will probably never be answered or revealed to me...maybe I did actually see the dead pilot, maybe I didn't...but the rest is absolutely true.

Since learning the truth and working through the pain of that event, the dreams of planes crashing has stopped.  I have been able to fly again, even though I prefer not too.  

However, living by an airport here in VA has been a challenge.  Occasionally a plane will fly super low over my house, the noise of the engines deafening and I will panic and black out, only to come too again, either in a ball on the floor or in my closet...

I know now, that is an acute PTSD attack.  I cannot stop it from happening, but now, I can breath better, and rebound more quickly.  I can explain my odd behavior and reactions to that low flying plane and I know it is PTSD.   I am not crazy.  What a relief.

My advocate says DID is like having PTSD on steroids...and he is 100 percent correct.   

Smells, sounds, music, anything can trigger a PTSD attack, if it is in conjunction to a specific horrifying event of the past.  I have so many triggers, and I feel like most of the time I am walking on egg shells trying not to destroy my fragile new life.  

I do not know if PTSD is curable...DID is not...therapy medications and such can help with managing the complications of PTSD and DID, but it does not cure a person.  It just gives us sufferers tools to work with in managing PTSD events.

My heart goes out to soldiers and others with truamatic PTSD...I understand it now, I understand the fear, the absolute fear of something happening,  going to happen, can't stop it, happening now in real time...when in actuality, it is not real time, but a flashback in your mind...you are there in that place and time...you cannot control that...it is not actual reality of a situation, but in your mind, it is reality and you body reacts in kind.  You have no control over this.

As I am coming to terms with my abuse, with the events that established my PTSD, and working through those,  the PTSD attacks are becoming fewer and fewer.   My alters are realizing that now I am in a safe place with an advocate that believes me and in me, and is supportive and does not doubt me.  People with PTSD need an advocate like that, someone who can put their own feelings and opinions aside, and embrace you, your feelings, your fears, without judgement or ridicule, or lecture.

That is the best medicine for PTSD and DID,  Understanding, patience and compassion.  Trusting your memories with someone who won't betray you, call you crazy, make fun of you, or dismiss you, goes a long way towards the healing you need.   

PTSD does not get better over time...but it can be managed better over time...the event that caused the PTSD may be over and long gone, but an event with maybe familiar smells, sounds or whatever, may trigger that previous PTSD event.  Familiarity or similarities can trigger memories of events...it does not have to be a low flying plane, it could just be a loud crash, but in my head, that loud crash was a plane, and I am paralyzed with fear and in full blown PTSD mode.  Only later to find out that loud crash was maybe a dumpster being dumped into a trash truck, or car hitting another car, or a tree crashing to the ground, shaking the ground...all that can trigger my mind into thinking "plane crash...run hide..." its the nature of the beast...the beast of Acute PTSD.

S, T

Cement

 Depression is a very difficult mental condition.

A person can smile, laugh, and seem fine, but depression is still there, lurking...like a predator.

Depression stalks a person, stealthily, quietly, and strikes whenever it pleases...

The littlest things can bring the depression to the surface:

   a perceived insult

   plans that fall through

   unkind words spoken

   medical issues

   relationship issues

   dreams

   but most often, nothing, depression decides when and where to strike.

For me, depression seems to be my old and dearest friend...no matter how hard I try to overcome this condition, it seems to never go away.

When something triggers my depression, it may start out innocuous, but left "unspoken" or "ignored" the depression grows.  My mind starts telling me I am "unworthy" "stupid" etc... my daily routine becomes chaotic,  I perceive everything as "bad",  and I start to spiral down down down into the pit.   I can't stop it...I want to, but my mind won't let go....

I hate when I start that downward slide...I will smile and laugh and say "everything is great", I will try and act normal.   I go into denial...on the outside looking in, I seem fine, happy whatever...but deep inside my heart, I am breaking....once my breaking point is becoming dangerous, Sophee will front and hurt me to bring me back to reality...

I HATE THAT!  I hate that I, Sparrow, have no control over my mind, heart and my life.   My alters have been keeping my head above water, because I am so helpless...they are my "keepers", as if I am a wild animal in the zoo being handled by zoo keepers...

Often when I am in the midst of the depression, I know I am being ridiculous, I know that.   A part of my head is telling me "snap out of it", "your life is good now, you are safe" blah blah blah, but the other part is saying "you are stupid, unworthy, and deserve to feel this way"...its a constant battle inside my head...its exhausting and leaves me confused, angry, sad, frustrated...then I get angry at myself.

Its like my brain has Tourette's syndrome.  Uncontrollable thoughts that are rude, offensive and out of my control...

My advocate is my babysitter, my zoo keeper, and he does his best to work with the alters in keeping me between the bumpers so I don't slide into the gutter.   I know it must be frustrating for him, sometimes it seems like I have made great strides in overcoming so much,  then out of the blue...BOOM, hello depression.  And all that ground made, is lost and we have to start over...over and over and over...

My mind, will and emotions are made of fine china, easily cracked and broken...I wish my mind was made of cement.

S 

Yet..

 There is pain,

Yet she doesn't feel it.

There is reality,

yet it is far away.

There is silence,

yet she is awake.

There are scars,

yet she does not see them.

There are memories,

yet she can't remember.

There are questions,

yet she finds no answers.

She tries to fit in,

but that is her very sin.

She realizes now,

and this is her vow,

She will never again use her voice,

Never again,

that is her choice.

Sammy

FUCK IT, I AM DONE WITH JEEP GROUPS

 I love driving a jeep.  I love my Cherokee, and it is a very expensive car to drive, one headlamp cost 990.00 to replace if I was to hit a deer, which is very likely here in VA...so I decided to get a grill guard manufactured for my jeep.

I was told it would take about two weeks, which it did.  But the powder coat finish I wanted will take a fucking month???

so I decided to just have it painted black until the powder coat people can take it in...

I have been posting on my jeep groups the progression of the grill, just like other jeepsters do with their builds.

On one group, which I am very active, a member criticized my jeep grill guard....He preferenced his statement with "don't get me wrong, but...."  of course I am gonna take it wrong.....

I would never criticize someones jeep, its their jeep, their choices their decisions....its hard enough driving a Cherokee and trying to be a part of a Jeep group, when the majority of Jeepsters drive the wrangler boxy type of Jeeps, most only refer to Cherokees as Mall drivers....

It amazes me the snobbery in Jeep groups....

Now I am disappointed in my jeep grill guard...if he thinks that way then EVERYBODY WILL THINK THAT...I guess my jeep is nothing but a fucking joke....and I am the butt of those jokes...I probably get talked about and made fun of behind my back at Jeep events...

EVERY GODDAMN TIME I GET EXCITED ABOUT SOMETHING OR AM PROUD OF SOMETHING, SOMEONE HAS TO TEAR ME DOWN...

FUCK IT, FUCK MY JEEP, FUCK MY LIFE.

s, sophee

Disappointed in viewership

 So about a month ago, we released a video where I am telling my story.  The video is all me, no Kevin.

What is interesting is, this video had the most views and comments.  This video was not educational, it was raw and very hard for me to make.

We released another video, about Sophee, and it was mostly Kevin talking and the views are way down.

This tells me that people do not want to be "educated" about DID.  They just want to see the "show".  

I bet, if we let the alters talk on camera, then the looky loos would view and comment...

This is very discouraging for me.  I am not a "show".  I am not a "freak", I am a woman who lives with a horrible condition called "DID".

I am guessing that our Youtube Channel will only be "good" if I talk more on video and I allow the alters to be on camera.  But if I do that, people will not tune in to see and learn from them, they will tune in to watch the "freak show".

I AM NOT A FREAK, I am a person, who deals with multiple personalities that are not of my own making.  

It hurts my  heart that people are only interested in the "gory details", rather than being interested in the condition itself.

I am nothing more than a novelty.

S, T