Leaky faucett

So I have been instructed to blog about this memory that is kicking my ass...I cannot go into the specifics of the memory because it is just too horrific to explain.   

I have so many different and conflicting thoughts and emotions about this memory.

I am sad, I am frustrated, I am fucking mad as hell...

Last night, my advocate talked with Ally.  Ally, I guess is fine with the memory, no issues with her...

Then he talked with Sammy....which is very hard because she is mute, and only speaks through sign...she can type, because of the autocorrect in her spelling and word arrangement.  So he booted up the new computer and had her type her answers...but the new computer Wordpad, does not have auto correct, so she really couldn't type.  She cannot spell, and tries to write using phonics...he said she got very frustrated and the whole conversation, I guess was pointless.

But we do know that this memory, was what spawned Sammy.  This was her "birth" date.   This particular memory,  made her.  This memory made her a mute, this memory made her a lesbian, this memory came forward, not by her or any of the other alters...

This memory came because of my age and the break down of barriers in my head...it leaked out, I guess.

So, if Sammy, Ally and all the rest are ok with this memory, then why the fuck am I not okay?  I am so fucking mad, I want to break things, I want to throw and shatter all my dishes, anything throwable I want to smash against a wall....why?  Because it is all I can do now.

I cannot go to my mother, I cannot go to anyone and demand retribution, I cannot go to the police,  I cannot scream and cuss my perpetrators,  I can do absolutely fucking nothing, but live with this memory, this atrocity.  And to me, its a fucking atrocity and my anger is so out of control, it is literally an "act of congress" to calm my rage...

I cannot change the actions and behavior I chose to do as a child, teenager and adult as a direct result of the memory.   But did I choose it, or did Sammy choose it?  Since all those fucking alters are part of my brain, I am the one soley responsible for my actions.   I am responsible for everything.   

I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE THE BLAME FOR SOMETHING THEY DID...but I have too, and it doesn't seem fair...in fact it enrages me to no end....If I can't control what they do, then why am I the one responsible?   Because I am the face that is put forward to the world...I am the host, I am the boss...everything falls on me, whether I agree or not...its all on me.

THAT IS THE FUCKING HARDEST THING TO ACCEPT WITH DID....NO MATTER WHAT MY ALTERS DO, I AM TO BLAME.

I am sparrow, I am all the others, I am a living walking freak.

So, because of my age, and the time that has pasts since all the fucking abuse, my memories are leaking out.  The alters can't hold them anymore....so at 61 fucking years of age, I am living a nightmare that NO ONE could ever imagine.   My head is now a leaky faucet of brown stinking water...drip drip drip...

Maybe I should go back on drugs.  Drugs stop the memories, drugs keep them away....can a person literally die of heartache????

How do I stop the constant "drip drip drip" of memories?  The only way I can, is to medicate myself with a drug that can take me away from reality...

I can't do in patient therapy...there are no fucking doctors here that actually treat DID or better yet, actually believe DID is a thing.  I can't talk to a perfect stranger...my alters will not talk to a stranger as themselves....I don't trust the mental health doctors or community...they have done nothing but fuck me up my entire life....

So I am stuck, no plumber to stop the leak, no doctor to help me, no family to embrace me and help me,  I only have my advocate, and he is not a "mental health professional", but he is smart, intelligent and knows more about DID than the fucking mental health professionals. And more than that, he believes me.   I am not a circus attraction to him...

But I am a circus attraction to me.  I am the freak in the show with multiple heads...I am the freak that keeps living, despite the fact that I should be long dead...

I do not and can not understand all these celebrities and tic toc people coming out and telling the world that they have DID, like it is some sort of cool thing.  DID is carnage.   Devastation left by war, my war as a child.  It is not fucking glamorous, I do not understand why other supposed "DID" sufferers want to go on social media and laugh, let their alters on camera, do they think this will help others with DID?????????

IT DOES NOT...IT HURTS US MORE...DID is not a new social fad.  It is not entertainment, I am so fucking sick of hollywood making money off a horrible disorder.

Goddamn it,  I hate DID, it has fucking ruined every aspect of my life, it has lifted the shade on who I really am, who I was molded to be.   I feel naked standing in front a crowd...no way to cover myself, no way to leave, no where to run....trapped, humiliated and embarrassed!  I am a laughingstock.  A joke for late night hosts, a joke for facebook memes, a joke to the family...a freak that others can gossip about behind my back.

I wish screaming, throwing things, smashing things, blogging...I wish they would help, but they don't...nothing helps.  I am hopeless and helpless....this is how I feel.

I have guilt the size of the empire state building...I have so much guilt over all the girls I have harmed....all the family members I have harmed...I cannot be normal.

I am better left alone in my head of 8 personalities,  my head is too fucking crowded to be good for anybody.  I just leave destruction in my wake...opening my mouth, is like firing a gun...it kills everyone, it kills them.   I am not a murderer, but my voice, my memories, my accusations, my life, kills all around me, maybe not right away, but it happens...everyone leaves me, I am dead to them.

I don't know what else to blog with this particular subject.  Basically I am just following orders....I was told to blog...so I did.  Like the good little girl I am, I do what I am told.  FUCK

S, sophee