Self-Harm. Why? [Me, Lynn]

Candycan wrote an excellent post on How and Why Self Harm? You see, self-harming isn't restricted to just cutting and other overt damage done to oneself. Neglecting one's own care, avoiding simple personal hygiene, poor eating habits, denying oneself simple joys, and isolating from social opportunities can all be considered self-harm, as she points out. But usually, self-harm refers to cutting or other injury-based activities. We have also been know to do some cutting. Most often, we use a scalpel, and allow Rubi to cut a decorative pattern into our thighs. The pain from the cutting, the sight of blood, and the freedom to act all release the tension she holds for us. And of course, frequent S&M play as a heavy bottom could certainly be considered deliberate self-harm.

But then Candycan speaks about the different ways self-harm - mostly cutting - serves as a reward. And these are the points which I wish to echo and comment upon.

1. To Feel Something/Anything - Unpleasant feelings tend to build up into a sense of numbness. Blocking out the 'bad' feelings means also blocking out the 'good' feelings. And feeling nothing creates an extra detachment from everything that is neither healthy nor pleasant. Receiving pain by cutting or S&M play forces us to feel something. It overwhelms the numbness and opens up those feelings again.

2. To Stop Feeling Something - When emotions well up and threaten to become overwhelming, despair or depression become a general unpleasant hurt that I focus on obsessively. Cutting becomes a specific hurt that forces me to release that focus on the general despair. It's a distraction from the emotional pain that is simple and clean to process. And along the way, some of the emotional pain gets processed as well, cleaning the slate.

3. Punishment - Candycan brings up the issue of pain as punishment several times, but this is not a drive for us, to my knowledge.

4. Visual Reminder - The cutting and play leave scars and bruises to remind us of the self-harm without having to feel that pain again first-hand. It's a record of the pain we processed. And it's a reminder that Rubi is there, waiting to deal with things her way, should I need her. She is Real, and by extension, so is everyone else in there.

5. Sensation Reminder - For several days, marks from self-harm  remain, itching and aching. Touching them, feeling clothes rub against them, scratching at them feels good. And reminds me that I can deal with what I am going through.

6. Pleasure - Seeing blood turns Rubi on, makes her warm and ever-so-alive. Many kinds of pain do the same for Sam. The endorphin rush is it's own addiction.

7. Academic Curiosity - There is within us a bit of mad scientist asking, "What happens if...?" And it's not exactly appropriate to experiment with cutting up other subjects; they simply aren't likely to consent. So I become my own guinea pig.

8. Control - I believe this is one of the classic reasons to self-harm. When Life becomes hard to control, as it often does, self-harm becomes a singular venue for controlling one's own world. I can control how many lines I cut, how deep, and whether I encourage the bleeding or stop it. I have control (to an extent - at least Rubi has control) of where the cutting is and what it looks like and whether or not I show it to other people.

9. Control within the System - When I first discovered I was multiple, I was afraid of allowing Rubi to take control; I was scared of what she might do, and worried that I wouldn't be able to 'put her back'. When we allow her out willingly to cut, she is not as likely to force her way out. And when she finishes and cedes control back to others, there is a sense of victory over that concern.

10. Sadomasochism - I think we all have some sadist in us. There is something satisfying about squashing a bug, or seeing someone get hurt. I know that I have a strong sadistic streak in me - it runs through several of us, even though we usually embrace the masochistic role more openly. Self-harm gives me the chance to act upon that sadistic bent, with myself as the target, rather than targeting someone else and risking actually hurting them. It would be much more difficult for me to actually harm myself, because as the target/bottom as well, I have perfect feedback and can gauge closely how much I can take. And that means a rush from pushing that boundary, as well.

When I'm Depressed [Me, Lynn]

Again, reading blogs. This time about how depression affects behavior. And how to see when someone's depressed. I thought I'd write on it myself.

Most people know me as a generally happy person. I don't let too many things worry me. I take on projects I can complete and revel in the small victories. I pursue socializing with my friends passionately, and indulge myself being with them. I like who I am. I have enough knowledge of myselves that we like each other most of the time and get along well. And I purposely maintain that happy, competent, social, positive self-image. But it's not always a success. I periodically have a period of depression that I nourish and cater to as fully as the positive end of my psyche.

I can generally tell when I'm threatening to enter a depression. I'll start feeling a weight on me for days, or even weeks, slowing me down. The world seems visibly darker. Usually there's a money crunch involved, and maybe overscheduling myself, which means not getting enough sleep. And often there's some key thing that I've gotten so far behind on that I don't know how I'll ever catch up - something I feel like I'm about to fail at. Not something I already have failed at; once the failure is made, it's past worrying about; it's the impending failure that sets me off. Or big changes coming up that I can't control or plan for - the fear of the unknown. And of course, I find that being around someone who is depressed will eventually drag me down to join them, too.

When the depression's in an early state, I'll have the sense of mentally dragging my feet all the time. And it will show in the way I walk; I'll drag my feet in reality, as well. I just... slow down. And I recognize that I'm slowing, but just don't care. At this state I'm desperate for someone to notice, but don't care enough to ask someone to do so.

The next state I'll reach is an irritable one. The smallest thing makes me want to strangle someone. My dog is particularly good at setting me off. Anything out of place in my house just infuriates me. To the point of throwing stuff away that wasn't put up - and maybe throwing it against a wall first. I can recognize that my reactions are too extreme for the offense, and yet can't stop myself from reacting that way. I may get teary-eyed from anger occasionally. This is the state where I just itch for a good fight, provoked or not. I feel panicky, like I have to do something before the next stage hits, and hurry!

And then I get completely depressed. I'll come home and find myself moping around staring at nothing, completely ignoring people and even avoiding them entirely. I'll lock myself in my room in the dark. And I'll take naps. I never take naps unless I'm sick or depressed. Naps are a Really Bad Sign. And I'll cry. I also don't cry often, unless I'm ticked off. I won't pay bills, I won't go out if I can avoid it, and I won't call a friend to make me feel better. I'll do the minimum I have to get done to be able to go back and curl up in my bed all alone and safe and quiet and dark.

So. Worry, followed by Irritability, ending in Depression. And in the Worry stage, I know what path I'm on; it's not like it's unfamiliar. I don't always go all the way down the path, of course. Sometimes I manage to derail it. In the Worry stage, sometimes I can get a handle on the problem that's eating at me and fix it. Get that bill paid, the car fixed, the project completed. Get some more sleep. This is when I'll get frantically - manically - overly social and hedonistic. Lots of sex, lots of happy silly play, gotta go and do and feel and remind myself how good it feels to feel. And sometimes that's enough to kick me out of that downward path. Fix the problem, indulge myself, feel better.

If, despite my efforts, the depression doesn't lift, I give up on trying to 'happy it away'. I tried everything, and nothing worked. That's when I get irritable. I snap at people who don't deserve it, which makes me feel guilty, and upsets me further. I can't do anything right, so I get very obsessive about doing the things I can right. This is when I might reorganize a huge section of my house, put everything in exactly its place. I don't want to be around people; they irritate me. But if I arrange these... books, or whatever... in just the right way, they'll stay put; they won't irritate me. Until someone moves them (an outside someone or an inside someone). Then I'm furious. I finally got something to work right and now it's ruined. Sometimes the projects and fixing and organizing will be enough to satisfy me, get me out of my funk. Sometimes I'll snap one too many times at people, and I'll get that fight I'm picking. This is when the S&M play, a really hard scene that leaves me bruised and broken and crying and worn completely out, can 'fix' me. Or I'll encourage some controlled self-injury, like light cutting. I've learned to associate physical pain with emotional healing. Yes, I realize this is backward to most people and will be alarming to some - but it does work for me. If my body is hurting enough, maybe my psyche won't be.

And then if that doesn't work, I give up on everything. I'll sit and mope and know that I'm depressed and turn away from anything that might help me feel better. I don't want help from anyone else because I'm not worth helping. And the fact that no one is trying to help me just proves that no one cares. The fact that I just spent the last stage snapping at them for any little thing tends to make this a self-fulfilling prophecy kind of thing. And it's too late to derail it; I have to go through it. At this point, I really can't take care of myself. I need an outside person to come in and take care of me. And I need them to be tough on me, boss me around into doing things, not just soft and gentle and indulgent - though I need that, too. A 'Snap to it!' drill sergeant as much as an 'I know, honey' parental hand-holding. And I'm no fun to be around at that point, I know. So the people who have taken me in hand at that point mean a lot to me.

When I finally break free of the depression path, at whatever state, I don't climb back up the way I went down. I usually feel refreshed and ready to take everything on again - as soon as I catch up on sleep. My rebound is great, if you can put up with getting me to it. And, because I've been away from everyone in the last two stages, now I have a need to catch up on all my socialization. I'll want to cuddle and touch and feel loving and pleasant with everyone. Especially if I need to make amends for being harsh to them in the middle state.

Say Something [Me]

How do singletons address multiples? How do multiples address other multiples? Reading another multiple's blog, they were talking about conversation with yet another multiple and addressing those two questions. Here are some of their thoughts:

I know, even as a multiple, I am concerned about how I am perceived by alters within a system. I know all too well what kind of chaos can be triggered by a well meaning but misunderstood gesture. But I also know the price we multiples pay because others don't know what to say, so they say nothing....

First off, in that post I had made reference to the fact that some alters believe that they are truly a separate person from the others and they really want to be treated as such.... To encourage an alter to be or maintain separateness from a system would not be productive for the alter or the system. But to feel connected to a particular alter who you see as a friend and respond with support out of friendship is needed and shouldn't be withheld in fear of doing the wrong thing. I don't think any harm can be done by offering a particular alter support. However, I think ending a comment by also including reference to the entire system would be even better.  

We, multiples, start off feeling like we are freaks who don't deserve the care and understanding of others. Kind supportive words mean the world to us. I would encourage lurkers on the blogs of multiples (and others for that matter) who are going through tough times, to comment....That can go miles in helping someone through a difficult time....

I think the most important thing I can say about interacting with multiples is don't be afraid. We are really normal people, we're just separated into parts. We have the same wants and needs as everyone else. We need to be accepted and loved.

Several of my alters have particularly close friendships with different people. Now, I'm friends with all these people, too, but not necessarily as close. Kiara, in particular, has made several friends that she's closer to than I am at times. It's okay to be better friends with one alter than another, even the host. Think if you were hanging out with several siblings. You're probably going to be closer to one than another, but can still count them all as friends.

But I've been guilty myself of not knowing what to say to another multiple. I feel like I should know what to say, being one myself, and that makes me self-conscious. And I can understand how, if you're pretty sure I'm not in front, but you don't know who is, that could make you hesitant to approach. But do. If you ask who's out, or tentatively call whoever it is by name, we'll answer. If you're right, that alter will surely be pleased to be recognized, and if not, we'll correct you. Or just talk to us without identifying who's out - we're fine with that, too. The only person who's expected to know which of us is out most the time is the boyfriend, and he asks, too, sometimes.

Finding Myselves [Me]

I've written before about the pinboards I've been making with pictures that approximate what each of us look like. And I wanted to share a neat experience. Every now and then, I come across a picture that is so 'me' - or one of me, at least - that I feel like I ought to remember taking it. Like this one, a picture I stumbled upon somewhere, and just knew it was one of us. I showed it to my boyfriend, and he immediately said, yep, that's Rubi. There are others I've found like that, but it's so cool when I get that immediate confirmation from someone else. Or when I have a picture taken, and the boyfriend or another friend calls me on it, asking, "Who's in that picture? That's not you." Which happened with this picture of Rubi. Or when Cherish wrapped her new scarf around her, but I had to take the picture because she can't use the phone well. So you get this picture, with Cherish's scarf and my face.

Sam's Turn Out [Me]

In a previous post I wrote about taking hydrocodone and it having pretty much no effect, unfortunately. And I hinted about a previous time when I took oxycodone and had an interesting reaction.

That time, Kiara got stuck out front and everyone else was asleep and totally unavailable. I woke up the next morning with a pirate windsock hanging from my kitchen ceiling. Apparently she went shopping with my then-boyfriend, and talked him into buying her some little cheap stuff. He said she kept wandering off if he didn't hold her hand, touching things and pushing buttons.

Yesterday I had a root canal. And couldn't get the meds I asked for from the dentist - she gave me oxycodone. I knew this was a bad idea, but it was that or no drugs at all. So I waited till I got safely to the boyfriend's house, warned him, and took it anyway. And then sat on the computer playing until supper was ready. Well, the meds kicked in, and about that time, Sam saw something she liked on the computer and came out. And then everyone went to sleep except her. So we had an entire evening of Sam out. I was able to wake up enough to check in on her occasionally, but not much more than that. So I have some fuzzy vague snatches of conversation, and that's about it. Woke up this morning feeling pretty rested, and not in too much pain, so I guess the meds did their job.

I've Got No Strings [Me]

Cherish slept last night. And woke up.

Now, normally this is not news - most people go to sleep every night and wake up every morning. But it's the first time she's done so. There are many Firsts she has gone through since her creation, and it's very interesting to watch it happen. Most of us learn to do things as babies, a few things at a time. We learn to look, then to reach, then to hold. We don't start off picking things up. Cherish had to do that. The body has all the muscle memory she needs, and as a whole we have all the memories, if only she can figure out how to access them.

When Cherish first came into awareness, she didn't speak. Part of this was uncertainty about what her voice should sound like, what she should say, and if it would please her Master for her to speak. But he wanted to know about her, how she thinks and feels, and speaking became necessary. Often when she speaks, I share quite heavily with her. She is very hesitant to express her own opinion about anything, or even to have one. So I offer some 'push' to her conversation.

And being able to speak does not necessarily mean being able to read or write. There were things she was expected to learn, and we had to find out whether or not she could read to learn them. She can, though it takes several readings for the information to sink in; her comprehension is somewhat sketchy. And she can only write with a lot of help. She's left-handed, like Kiara and Jarett. And I learned to write right-handed, so the body doesn't have the muscle memory for it. It's sufficient for a six-year-old, but not for adults.

One of the first challenges for her was learning to eat. The first time she was out during meal-time, she was handed a bowl, and she honestly had no clue what to do with it. When asked what foods she likes, her answer tends to be an embarrassed smile and a half-shrug. So she has tried a few foods, whenever meal-time has arrived and she is out. We've learned that she likes rice and broccoli, but doesn't seem to like the texture of meats. And she would rather drink water or even juice; soda tickles her nose. Most of us hate broccoli and love Cokes, so it's interesting to watch her eat. When she's eating broccoli, it tastes good through her to me; when I'm out I can't stand the taste or smell of it.

She doesn't have many social skills, either. If she had her way, she'd come out only at home with no one outside the family to see her. But her Master wants her service in public, of course, so out she'll be. As long as she's focused on serving him, whether it's sitting quietly beside him, holding a plate for him to eat from, or listening to him talk to other people, she's pleased to be serving her function. But when she's more than a step away from him, she's terrified. Part of the fear is that when someone comes up to talk to her, they are probably expecting Me, or maybe Kiara. They will expect her to have information and memories that aren't hers. And she just doesn't know how to respond. Ignoring them and moving quickly away would be easiest, but then she fears being rude. And that reflects on her Master poorly. So her social skills need worked on.

And last night she fell asleep. Previously when it's been time to sleep, she's either stayed awake until dismissed, or asked to be dismissed. Either way, someone else has switched in and fallen asleep. Last night, she didn't understand her dismissal, and simple stayed awake - until the body shut down and she fell asleep. The falling asleep didn't seem to disturb her, but she was still out when something woke us. You know that disconnected feeling you have the first few minutes after you wake up? She had never felt that before. She was very disoriented and had trouble 'plugging back in', so to speak. It was still night-time, though, so we managed to switch back out before falling asleep again, making it easier for her.

So Cherish is learning to be a real person. It's a process, with slow progress and crash courses. The things required of her as a slave, she seems to have come equipped with. It's the other things that she has to learn. So if you see her out, be patient with her, and kind.

What's Religion?... My Personal Faith [Me]

This is actually a Facebook note I wrote out almost two years ago - back when I was struggling to accept being multiple. What I wasn't struggling with, though, was my faith. If you read the post I made about IDIC not long ago, and put it together with this, you've pretty much got my personal belief system all outlined out.




From 'Potty Talk' by Trish Crist:

I don't have to figure out whether or not God exists.
I don't have to know if there IS a God, choose whether it's Buddha or Mohammed or Jesus whose teachings are a direct line to him, or worry about how religious explanations don't really mesh with science. I just have to acknowledge when good things happen and be thankful for them. I can revere spirit - and I don't mean the Holy Spirit as in One of the "Big Three," the greatest trio of all time-- I mean kindness, within others, within me. Acknowledge good things with gratitude - that's religion.

I asked for this piece from the script of Potty Talk after I saw it this weekend. It spoke to me. I mean, I am a Christian - I have decided that I believe in the Christian God - just made the decision, without force or proof, which is very hard for me. I have a relationship with God. And it's my relationship, settled between Him and me, external of anyone else's opinion or approval. But the keystone to my personal understanding of God is as described above. God is defined as Goodness and Love. My worship of God is to be good to other people - and good to myself, which can be harder. And harder still is to be thankful for goodness toward me.

+++

My faith never really took a particular shape until I became a parent. As a child, I accepted that there was a God because the adults in my life said He was there. I wasn't particularly afraid of Him, nor did I feel any particular love from Him. Church was a social event we attended a few times a year, usually to appease family.

When I became a parent, and as my child grew, my faith grew and developed into something that I could feel and hold and embrace. God is my Father. He loves me in the same way that I love my daughter - unconditionally, weathering all, without bounds. And I love Him in the same way that I love my parents - tenderly, seeking approval, accepting support.

When my daughter is suffering, I suffer more for her than I ever could for myself. When she is happy, it pleases me more than my own happiness could ever do. I have done everything I can to show and teach my daughter what kind of person she could be, what paths she should follow in life, and every thing she might need to learn. Sometimes, she follows where I have led her. Sometimes she forges her own path. It doesn't matter, I watch her along either path, and I'm there for her if she should stumble and fall. But I let her fall first. She has to be her own person.

When she asks me for advice, I give it. When she doesn't, I try to keep my mouth shut - but she knows the advice is there for her if she wants it. When she makes a bad decision, I could never turn away from her. Yes, there might be an 'I told you so', but there are also hugs and a shoulder to hold her tears. And if she needs help to fix her mess, I'll help her. But I won't do it for her. And when she makes the right decision, and good things happen, I rejoice for her and with her. I brag on her, for I'm so proud of the person she is. This is MY daughter.

I know I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes - some of which my daughter has learned from, some which she is bound to repeat. But I will never fail to love my daughter and treasure her. My Father God, however, is perfect - he's never made the mistakes I have. And He loves me the same way that I love my child. Sometimes I disappoint him. Sometimes I listen to his advice and knowingly choose to follow a different path. It's okay, He loves me anyway.

This Blog Is My Lifeline [Me]

now I'm reading mycloudsandmystorms' blog. And this entry is so good I'm pasting a bunch of it here.

And that is really the point of this blog, I really want people who are suffering with multiple personality disorder or those who love or live with someone who is, to know that there is hope. Multiple personality disorder is not a curse. It is a coping mechanism. Without this coping mechanism these victims would probably be dead from whatever trauma it was that caused this syndrome in the first place. I, personally, am grateful for it. I know it saved my life.

I am here to tell you there are lots of folks with MPD out there who are doing just fine. They are high functioning members of society and people around them have no clue there is anything different about them. It is possible to be normal, healthy and productive and still be a multiple. That doesn't mean a person with MPD shouldn't integrate. It means that the decision should be based on what is best for that person. But it does mean the MPD is not something to be feared like the plague. If someone you care about has been diagnosed with it, it doesn't mean they cannot lead a normal life. 

True, many multiples have a difficult time with therapy. It is a painful thing probably more painful than anyone can ever imagine. I wouldn't even beging to suggest my therapy was easy, It was horrific. BUT it was worth every minute of it for the quality of life I have attained through it. But during therapy I felt like I was on a sinking ship and there was no hope I would ever be saved. There was no one there to throw me a lifeline, to say there would be an end to the pain or a valid reason to go through it. I made it on blind faith and I will be forever grateful that I did.

I would like this blog to be a lifeline. A beacon of hope for anyone dealling with the storm that can be multiple personality disorder. True, there will be things here that are hard to read but I share them so people can see how much a human being can endure and still find a way to shine.

What she said - that's it. This blog is my lifeline, my reminder that We can function as an I. I have a coping mechanism that most people can't begin to understand. And it works for me. And this blog is a window into that coping mechanism for those that want to understand.

We Amuse Ourself [Me]

from youmightbeamultipleif:

At first, when the diagnoses of DID came into play, I was angry that there were other people there and I just wanted them gone. Then after a while, I realized how much they'd done for me, what they've given and given up. I realized that theirs were the voices I would hear cheering me on when no one else in the whole world knew I needed it.

Oh, doesn't that just say it. My alters are my best friends. They are like those buddies who come over to hang out and never go home. And sometimes you wish they would go home, but then you just go hide in your room for a while. And they take care of things, take care of themselves. And when you miss them and come back out, there they are, happy to see you and include you in whatever they are doing.

And then she recounts an argument over the purchase of a coffee pot when she accidentally bought the wrong (cheaper) one:

SO, the reasoning began, "Well you don't drink much coffee at home anyway since there's an unlimited pot at the office and it's way cheaper - this one will do" ANother said, "NO, Don't settle, get the one you want. This one is not it, get off your lazy a** and do it, get the one you really wanted in the first place. " Another, "Who cares? It's a coffee pot" Another, "Hello?!? Coffee is serious business, we can't have just ANY coffee pot, it should be the right one and it should match the rest of the appliances." Another, "You're too lazy to get it, just be happy with what you got" Another, "You shouldn't have spent the money, you should bring it back, what about the curtains?"Another, "Yes I agree"Another, "Coffee?? icky, why would anyone wanna drink that stuff?" Another, "Mmmmm I want coffee now!"and on and on and on it went - sometimes I just have to giggle at everyone, they make me laugh. 

It's funny because it's true. Everyone has an opinion. And expresses it. And if I remember to decide to find it entertaining, it really really is.

Multiplemultitasking [Me]

I'm reading another multi's blog - and at the same time chatting with her/them on IM. Not to mention blogging here - three multiple activities at once! It's a little surreal. She mostly has pictures she's found to illustrate moods that one of her writes something about - a phrase or a poem or just some reaction. I pinned several of the pictures from her blog to my Pinboards - one for Rubi, one for Cherish, one for Kiara.

Who's That Guy? Part Two [Me]

So yesterday I talked about my boyfriend and the relationship we all have with him. This morning, I was talking to a friend, someone I'm planning to play with, and he asked me, "Is your Dom okay with that?" And I stopped for a moment, because, although to the rest of the kink world, Dom is the appropriate title for him in relation to the system, I realized that I don't actually think of him with that term.

A break here to explain terminology. The kinky folks can skip ahead to the next paragraph. In the BDSM subculture, a dominant is the person who has control over the submissive. It has nothing to do with who might be causing pain to whom - that's a different relationship, though they often overlap. Dominance and submission is a power exchange issue; it's a psychological relationship. In a parent-child or teacher-student relationship, there is no doubt as to which one wields the power and control over what's going on; they are dominant in this situation. When both parties are adults, dominance can be a power-struggle, or it can be a deliberate choice. The submissive can give up their obedience to the person that is dominant to them. We engage in a dominance struggle with people all the time, but are generally unaware of it. In kink, we are very aware of it, and choose which role to take.

When I chose to wear the collar that my boyfriend made for me, I was choosing to submit to him. Yes, in the biblical 'wives submit to your husbands' kind of way. By choosing to be his submissive, I give him a certain amount of authority over me and agree to submit to his decisions and obey his directives. That's what it means to wear someone's collar. Okay, that's what it means to me. Everyone has a slightly different interpretation. And I'm fine with that. I'm more than fine with that - I'm thrilled about it. I look at my collar as being equivalent to an engagement ring - it means almost nothing legally in the real world, but it my heart it symbolizes a bond that means so much. I am his. His girlfriend, his love, and yes, his submissive.

And if I am his submissive, what does that make him to me? Well, obviously, he would be my Dominant. Whose Dominant, you might ask? We wear his earring to symbolize Cherish's slave status to him. But we wear his collar to show that we all belong to him. He's boyfriend, more or less, to each of us, individually. But I think I would have to say he is dominant to us as a system.

Who's That Guy? [Me]

So, in the comments for the last post, Kiara commented about her Issi. And I realize that that could be confusing. We've talked in a previous post about what do I call my boyfriend's other girlfriend (answer - technical term is metamour). But we haven't talked much about the different relationships he has with us. At least, I don't think I've written about that yet.

Generally, when I write about him, I just use the term 'boyfriend'. First, because that's what he is to me. He's my boyfriend - I'm in love with him and intend to spend my next years with him. We do all the boyfriend/girlfriend stuff everyone else does - make silly faces and touch too much and giggle and have sex and go places as a couple. But I also use the term boyfriend because it's a good catch-all phrase that covers what he is to each of us. And when I introduce him, I'll say boyfriend, because one simple definition is kinder to other people. I call him by his name, or use the same kind of silly pet-names other people use - sweetie, honey, love....

But he isn't exactly 'boyfriend' to everyone in the system. We each have a slightly different relationship to him. To Jarett, he's a friend - an ally in dealing with all these female types. He can be a buddy and someone to hang out with. To Lynn, he's another person responsible for maintaining our mental health, someone she can bounce ideas off of or consult with. Both of them would call him by his name, simply.

Rubi occasionally speaks to him directly, but I don't know that she's ever used his name. He's an adversary, someone that has the ability to give her some of what she wants if she stays within certain behavioral limits. But he's also a control on her. She's found that testing him isn't always to her taste - if she pushes too hard, everyone ends up unhappy inside, so she saves her worst behavior for other play partners. She doesn't play to her full limit with him, holding something back to get 'fed' over the long term instead. He knows where her buttons are and will use them if she gets out of line.

For Sam, the boyfriend is one of her favorite kind of people - a repeat customer. When she wants to play and have fun, she can count on him to play with her, and to know what she likes and doesn't like. He's fun and he's motivated to make her happy and entertain her. So he's great to have around. And if he wants to play some kissy-face and have sex, well that's just fun stuff too. But he doesn't get in the way of other fun she wants to have, either, so it's the best of both worlds.

So aside from me, everyone so far is simply friends with him. Boyfriend is too strong a term. But for Cherish and Kiara, it's too weak a term - they each have a very special relationship to him separate from my own. Cherish was created for him in particular. She is uniquely his in a way that the rest of us cannot be - with so many facets of her personality in place because of his preferences. He is Master to her slave, and Master is what she calls him.

But he 'belonged' to Kiara first. While I was still just regular friends with him, she was already head-over-heels in love with him. And she loves him with the intensity of a child that still believes love can magically fix anything. In the happily-ever-after sense. When I was learning who he was, he was her Prince Charming. And that hasn't changed. He is the most important person in her world. He's part boyfriend/crush, part teacher, part father figure. She decided that she needed her own name for him, but didn't want to call him 'Daddy' because other people might misunderstand. So she chose to call him Issi, which means Daddy in Estonian.

So he's boyfriend, love, buddy, co-counselor, adversary, keeper, playmate, friend, Master, and Daddy to us, all in turn. I think that averages out to 'boyfriend' over all, don't you?

Temper Tantrums [Me]

a bit train-of-thought...

Kiara's having a temper tantrum - the first I remember us going through, actually. She's locked in her room playing the same damn song over and over again.I don't even like the song. And yells at everyone to go away. I know what led up to this behavior, but I don't understand it. And it means I'm stuck out front all by myself again. Lynn's trying to talk her into opening the door. Rubi's encouraging this kind of behavior - "If the kid wants to be mad and kick around on her own yelling, let her. Don't mess with what she needs to do." Weird to hear Rubi on Kiara's side. Cherish isn't coming out; if Master wants her out he'll ask for her and until then there's no reason for her to be out. Sam got a lot of play and is pleased with herself and off alone doing something. Jarett isn't sure what to do with all these emotional females, so he's staying out of the way. At least Silent One isn't out... This feels kind of like the kind of depression that leads to Rubi cutting and Silent One out, but I'm not depressed. Just unbalanced. And we don't have the time to deal with it; there's a party at my house tonight and I've gotta play hostess like everything is okay. Maybe the party will draw Kiara out of her room. And the thing is, it's not a depression - a good thing started it all out. May be more than I can explain here.

BACKGROUND - we have a roommate, MK. At one point we were sleeping together; I think everyone assumes we still are. But no - he's in a place mentally where he doesn't want that. It didn't stop badly; just loss of interest led to him getting a bed upstairs and starting to sleep there. And I sleep at the boyfriend's most of the time anyway. Sometimes he's in a mood for cuddling; other times he's very touch-me-not. And lately he's been very touch-me-not. And we're very tactile - we want to touch people we like, but haven't been able to pet on him for a while. We crave touching him; we feel disconnected from him. And his schedule and mine are at odds, so we don't get to see each other hardly ever, and when we do I'm mostly-asleep in bed and he's just coming home from work and wants to chit-chat and I can't even stay awake to listen to him. Anyway, so our friendship is strained by outside influences, but he's really really important to us and we care an awful lot about him.

Last night we got to play with both MK and the boyfriend at the same time, at the BDSM club. It was fantastic and made us very happy. Me and Sam and Rubi all got to play a lot, and got all fuzzy and happy and laughed a lot. After, we got to cuddle both men at the same time and it was really great. Kiara usually comes out when we're at this point after play; she's very good at the happy cuddly times. But when she came out this time and found herself petting on and cuddling up to MK, the emotions all welled up. There was a sense of relief - oh good we're okay enough to be playing, and a sense of indulgence - pet him all you can now before you can't anymore, and a caution - don't get too frisky or he'll draw back again, and a sense of unfairness - why can't we cuddle him all the time? - and sadness - pretty soon we'll be back to not touching. The emotions got to be too much, and she bolted for the bathroom, where she sat on the floor in the dark and sobbed until someone else could come out.

I don't think this was a negative experience, though, just overwhelming. Kiara is obviously where our 'love' lives at. She loves fully and without reserve, so the kind of reserve we have to have with MK to not make him uncomfortable is too restrictive for her, and confusing. Several of us love and/or are in love with our boyfriend, but none loves him purely and fiercely as Kiara does. So it makes sense that she loves MK more intensely than anyone else, and yet she's six years old; too young to understand the boundaries on that relationship. Too young to carry the confusion and wistful feelings and denial. So she's upset, and I can hear her playing loud music and yelling and crying in the back rooms of my psyche.

I could lock everything down and put myself in a mode where I'm not hurting and can function well - and I'll have to do that later on when we need to be with people. But for now I think I need to let some of those emotions play out - here where I'm writing, in the tears on my face right now. I don't like this, but I guess it's necessary. I'm going to post this because I need to have it. Once I'm more clear-headed I may delete it; I don't know.

Update, 24-hours later... - Kiara came back out after the party that night and got some time reading books with someone, and some time cuddled up to MK a little bit. And it seems like she's okay now, though still a little sad. She understands that's she's too young to understand. But we're not hurting like we were. I think I will leave this post up, for better or worse.

IDIC - Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations [Me]

I'm reposting this one from, of all things, a Facebook note. It relates to my personal beliefs, and I'll get into that as it relates to the kink and the poly and the multi later.

Several people have asked me about that funny circle-and-triangle picture that I use so frequently online. That is the IDIC. It symbolizes a philosophy that means a lot to me, one that I try to keep in mind. So I share it with you here.

First, the geeky part. This is a Vulcan philosophy - yeah, from Star Trek. The symbol is the Kol-Ut-Shan, and has been shown or referred to in The Original Series, the movies, Enterprise, Voyager, and Deep Space Nine. It's Gene Roddenberry's invention, but his lengthy explanation of it was cut from the script of the episode "Is There in Truth No Beauty?" Fan theory is that the IDIC represents the sun rising over Mount Seleya.

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But what does it mean? The IDIC concept stresses appreciation and utilization of the differences between people. Rather than distrust or even hate someone who is different, we should look for what makes each of us special and use that to the advantage of all. Treating everyone the same casts aside the very things that make them worthwhile. On one site, I found the following explanation: IDIC "represents a Vulcan belief that beauty, growth, and progress all result from the union of the unlike. Because concord, as much as discord, requires the presence of at least two different notes, diversity is good. The brotherhood of man is an ideal based on learning to delight in our essential differences, as well as learning to recognize our similarities."

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What's the politically correct term for someone who is handicapped? Differently abled? Maybe we should look at that as applying to each of us. Because if you have three people in a room with the same abilities and qualifications, two of them are redundant and thus unnecessary. We are each differently abled. And we are stronger in our differences. There is too much in the world to learn - no one person can learn to do it all. But as we each specialize, the group is much more able to achieve a goal than several individuals will be. When we put together a set for a play, as an example, we split up the jobs. People who are detail-oriented should measure and cut the wood. Someone strong should carry the furniture in. Screws all over the floor? Great job for some little kid with a bucket. And the job gets done.

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In C.S. Firedman's book THIS ALIEN SHORE (the underlining is malfunctioning), I found this quote that spoke to me: "God save us from an Earth in which all men are the same. God save us from a colony where that is the goal, or a culture which assumes that for its norm. Give me a thousand people speaking different tongues, worshiping different gods, and dreaming different dreams, and I will make of them a greater nation than you can make with ten thousand of your gengineered duplicates. For mine will have the spark of greatness in them, while yours will live for conformity, worship mediocrity, and take their carefully modulated delight in predigisted dreams."

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Here's a link that discusses IDIC further; I found it very good. http://www.bookmice.net/darkchilde/spirit/idic.html

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Incidentally, a variant of the IDIC is used by the polyamorous community. The ILIC is Inifinite Love in Infinite Combinations. "It is a variation on Pi-and-the-three-colors from the Polyamory Pride Flag. Like the flag, the colors are: blue, representing the openness and honesty among all partners with which people who are polyamorous conduct their multiple relationships; red, representing love and passion; and black, representing solidarity with those who, though they are open and honest with all participants of their relationships, must hide those relationships from the outside world due to societal pressures."

And a Happy New Year [Me]

The New Year weekend was very eventful for me. I'm not sure how to cover it all, so I'll just dive in. We had our household Christmas - and dude, I won at Christmas. I had some of the best gifts to give. I talked to my daughter about being multiple, and she's completely cool with it. We even switched some around her - very uncomfortable for us, apparently not so for her. My boyfriend collared me/us as his submissive, and also specifically Cherish as his slave.

Ever since Cherish was created, she has been very obviously his slave. Her mindset is that of a slave, and as alien as that is to the rest of us internally, that relationship is something my boyfriend has a great need for. A need I could never satisfy as a singleton. So it's a pretty cool thing that I'm a multiple and not constrained in that way. Now, traditionally, a master puts a collar around his slave's neck, and that symbolizes to everyone in the kink world that she is his. However, Cherish couldn't accept that kind of collar on behalf of the rest of us. So we sought a different way to do it. One of the triggers he has taught her to respond to has to do with him touching her left ear, and so we and he decided that he would put an earring in our left ear in lieu of a slave collar. He pierced the hole himself, with Cherish fully out in front, and he put the earring in to mark her as 'his'. Even better, his other girlfriend and slave got to assist, as did my roomie, who is very important to me. Also, my daughter was there to watch. This made it more of a family ceremony.

In addition to a slave-bead earring for Cherish, we have been talking about him collaring us as a whole system - not as his slave, but as his submissive. This is a slightly different relationship within the kink world. It's tantamount to marriage engagement. Now, he and I are not likely to ever get actually married as the outside world sees it, but a collar is an attachment on a similar level. We had planned for him to collar me later, but he surprised me by presenting me with a collar he made himself for us. He also had a matching one he made for his other girlfriend. It's something I can wear in front of the vanillas without setting anyone off - I can just say it's a necklace my boyfriend made for me. But it will stay on any time except when I'm showering as a symbol of my commitment to him, and his to me.

In light of those two things, everything else I did as far as Christmas presents seems to be a little pale. But even so, gift-giving was excellent for me. Now, I refer to Christmas gifts, but since few of my friends are Christian - including my boyfriend - I really just mean holiday gifts of whatever stripe, okay? But I really got to give some great gifts this year. My mom and I watched a movie earlier this year together that led her to say she really wanted some certain books - I got those for her. My stepdad really loves the Simpsons, and I ran across a Simpsons collectible I was able to give him. My Granny mentioned at Thanksgiving that she had never owned a leather jacket (at over 80 years old) - and I had one I could give her. My roomie has been looking for two certain movies as long as I've known him. I got one for him, and he found the other at a store about a week later. My other-daughter (my daughter's best friend), recently got an apartment, had a small fire, and got a new apartment - and I was able to give her two carloads of stuff for the new place. A friend of mine has a little girl who's very musically inclined - and I had an assortment of child-sized instruments I was able to give her. My boyfriend's drill gave up the ghost as he was making something for me - I was able to give him a new and better drill. And his other girlfriend needed a good way to sort and display and get to her jewelry, and I had a solution for that. So yeah, Christmas was a super win, just from a giving perspective. I feel like I really did well.

Receiving gifts - I got a lot of nice things, all of which I'm very grateful for. The one thing that I enjoyed the most, though, was a gift from my daughter. She learned to crochet around November. I showed her a picture of a ladybug hat, and joking suggested she should make me one, knowing it was out of her experience at that point. I mentioned it because Kiara is recently enamored of ladybugs. Well, of course, she made me one. I had forgotten completely about the idea, and when I opened the box, Kiara immediately shifted in front and squealed and clapped her hands and 'made happy', then realized my parents (who don't know) were there and went back in. My daughter did see that Kiara had come out, and had no problem with it. It was a good experience, especially as the only alter she had ever noticed out before was Rubi. Then, when we opened gifts at my boyfriend's later, she got to see both Kiara and Cherish out in turn.

And the next important gift we got was in the same vein. Cherish has recently shown a fascination for the niqab and hijab face-coverings of the muslim world. Obviously, she sees some comfort in being able to efface herself by covering her face with a scarf. I never thought them really beautiful until I saw them through Cherish. And her newly-proclaimed master, having also seen her love of face-coverings, gave her a beautiful silver scarf. It was a profoundly important gift, encouraging what is really the first glimmer of her own desires and interests beyond 'whatever makes Master happy'.

Other great things happened over the weekend, too. We had some heavy BDSM play that really tore us up, but in the good way. I spent a lot of time with my boyfriend all in a row and we did some arranging in his household that made me feel more like I really live there. I had some great social times with my kinky friends, even though some people I didn't want to deal with were there - and I handled that better than I'd expected. And of course, we were all sick a little bit. That usually goes along with Christmas for me, and for them. So with my mind still reeling from the weekend, I've returned to the 'real world', wearing unaccustomed jewelry on both ear and neck.