Ten Little Indians [Me]

When I was born, my mother almost named me Grace. I'm glad she didn't; I am not graceful. I'm tough, I'm strong, but I'm not graceful. Would I have become a different person if my name had been Grace? Maybe. I do think that names of things have some power over them. At the least, other people would have different first impressions of me. And that would change who I am.

But Grace survives, in another alter that has emerged. She seems to be drawn out by the scent of roses. When I was preparing roses for the collaring scene, I had a lot of dizzy spells that I recognized as being from someone not known to me yet. She was polite enough to wait until after the weekend to emerge. Last night, she fronted and spoke briefly with the boyfriend. She's very neat and proper and ladylike. Yeah, I guess I could use a little of that.

When Paul first arrived, I wondered if I was going to start seeing more and more inside folk. There were six months between Cherish and Paul. There were four weeks between Paul and Gracelyn Rose. My suspicion - maybe wishful thinking - is that there are more 'background' alters in there, that haven't come out. Haven't needed to. And now that we have a safe harbor in our relationship with the boyfriend, they are slowly starting to come out, out of mere curiosity if nothing else. Wonder what the headcount will end up at?

Sisterhood [Me]

My metamour posted this the other day:

Happiness is:
- Gaining a sister. Master is officially collaring [M] tonight. In April, she will move in with us permanently. I’m very happy and excited!

I'm glad that at least part of her is very excited and happy about this change. This poly stuff can be hard. She and I both struggle to make ourselves happy about how things are, sometimes. Sometimes it's no struggle at all. Sometimes you just endure it.

Her system is much less stable than mine, and I know there are nuggets of jealousy and maliciousness and passive-aggressive manipulation in there. But there are also broad swaths of generosity and sisterhood and 'whatever-makes-Master-happy' in there, too.

I don't know what the future holds for the three of us, but I am becoming more and more confident that the future can hold the three of us, together. Some days maybe we'll just tolerate each other. But some days maybe we can be compatriots, sisters, friends.

I'm Collared at Last! [Me]

At New Years, my boyfriend gave us a collar to wear. And it was the equivalent of an engagement ring in the non-kink world. Last night, we made good on that arrangement, and I got a permanent collar to him. We went to the BDSM club and had a ceremony that pledged us to one another permanently, just like a marriage ceremony. Except without all that messy legal name-changing stuff involved.

We had a ceremony. It involved him pulling each alter (except Silent One) out, and asking if we each would accept him as our dominant partner. More than just a boyfriend. Each of us did accept him, and then we did an intense pain-play scene.

I'll give only the bare version here, in deference to my non-kinky readers. He wrapped roses all around my body, then took a whip he had braided for just this purpose, and use it to 'hug' the roses - and their thorns - into my body. And he continued until I 'called Red'. That means giving him my safeword to say that I can't continue. I am known in our community for being very tough and for wearing my play partners out before I ever give up myself. So for me to 'Red out' is a fairly momentous thing. It meant a surrender to him that I don't just give freely. He took it from me, earned it. And in return I earned the collar he wanted to give me.

So this means that, in the eyes of our chosen community, he and I are married. I am his submissive, and must obey him and trust that his decisions are best for me, even when I don't have the same opinion. I will follow rules that he sets out and allow his to influence who I spend my time with. In return, he is my dominant, and is responsible for my mental and physical well-being. He will consider my best interests in his decisions, and try to guide me to the best I can have. 

Silent One [Me, Lynn]

"Is Silent One needed any longer - maybe it could fade away?" That's how I finished my last blog post. I don't think I've ever really written about Silent One before. Some of that is because it frightens me. And some of it is simply not knowing what to say. But I think it's time. I'm seeing three stages of Silent One's existence.

Stage One - Escape Mode
Silent One began as a crisis all-fail response. When I was abused by my husband and couldn't physically leave to get away from it, I left mentally. I completely checked out and left the body lying limp and helpless on the floor. This catatonic state is Silent One. I had some vague view of what was happening, but couldn't react, and didn't really feel the pain or hear the yelling. You know, when the victim doesn't react to the abuse, it seems to take the energy out of the abusing.

When I went into this state, it could last for minutes, or for many hours. Either way, I/we would eventually fall asleep, for some amount of time, usually only minutes. And that's when the terrors began. Nightmares, screaming, running, terror, fear - but all inside my head. And inescapable, not like a dream that you wake up from. From the outside of the body, though, all that's happening is some twitching of muscles, and maybe some rapid breathing. Until the end, when I would wake up screaming. Sometimes at home, sometimes in the hospital.

This happened enough times to have a very predictable progression. It continued to occur periodically for years after the initial trauma, generally triggered by extreme emotions. Unfortunately, that could include sex or other positive experiences. The frequency gradually tapered off until several years went by without.

Stage Two - Recognizing Silent One
Once I got into BDSM, I knew that I had to keep people from grabbing my throat - that had set off an 'attack' a few times in the past years. But one night it happened; someone grabbed my throat by accident. And I collapsed, curling into a fetal position, then going completely limp - catatonic again. I came to without the screaming, though. Instead I started sobbing - like my heart was broken - to the point of gagging myself repeatedly. Eventually the sobbing died down and I recovered. And made sure everyone knew to leave my throat alone.

As I became aware of being multiple, I recognized this horrible state of catatonia as being likely to be another alter. And named it Silent One. Although my primal coyote beast is a headspace, not an alter, Silent One does feel like an alter, just one with a lack of personality. Silent One is a null state where all personalities have fled, and none are present. It's an un-personality. But although there aren't thoughts or actions, there are emotions present. I suppose that's why I categorize it as a personality and not a headspace. There's terror and anger and fear and pain and a sense of looking, being lost, all mixed up out of control. I've avoided this state whenever possible, but it's part of me/us, and has to be faced eventually.

Stage Three - Exploration
My boyfriend loves breathplay. Turns out that we do, too. Sam and Rubi and I all yearn for it. But there's a point of being choked out by blood cutoff, not air cutoff, that's just before actually passing out, where you lose control and go limp and drop mental control of yourself. With most people, that's quickly followed by loss of consciousness. When you release control of yourself, you pass out. With us, there's an intermediate step. I feel myself let go, and start to pass out, but that's when Silent One takes over. It fills the vacated mental space and remains conscious. From the outside, I'm not sure it looks any different from passing out, but I'm still aware, just not in control. I can 'feel' Silent One in front.

In the past months, we have purposely played with this. At first, Silent One would eventually fall asleep, and the terrors were back, with screaming and crying as I awoke. But the boyfriend recognized the twitching that precedes the terrors, and experimented with ways to stop the progress there. He tried calling each of us out, without a great deal of success. But one time, he was able to call Cherish out enough that she asked him to hurt us, distract Silent One from the internal terror by an external sensation. And he tried several different ways of doing that, with varying degrees of success. So he was able to help me break into control with a combination of hurting the body and calling on either me or Cherish. And most of the time, we avoided the terrors. Progress!

Last night, we made a new step. After some breath-play, Silent One was out. And as we were just starting to twitch, the boyfriend tried a particular pain to break me out of that mode. But instead of me coming out, Silent One... reacted. This is big; it's never reacted before. It moved away from him, away from the pain. So he went to get a flame, which also helps break us out, and Silent One actually opened up my eyes and appeared to be looking around. I don't think it could really see - the feedback I picked up was almost like my eyes were crossed. But the flame drew its attention, and the boyfriend says his voice seemed to create a reaction, looking more in that direction. However, from my vantage point, I know that nothing he said actually registered as words. Silent One appears to be without language, and possibly somewhat deaf. Which makes sense, considering that part of its genesis was to stop hearing abusive yelling and fighting.

One last thing about Silent One - I have read a tiny bit about catatonic schizophrenia, and the description seems to fit Silent One's behavior, only with the safety valve of switching to another alter. I'll have to learn more about it.

One Hundred Posts [Me]

This is my 100th post on this blog. When I began, I didn't really think I'd keep up with it this far. But it really has helped me to be able to put things down in writing, instead of having them rattling around in my brain. And I think it's helped a few people understand me-us better, as well. In my first post, I said, "Blogging my experience may help me sort through things in my own mind. And just maybe it will help someone else. Maybe it will be of interest to someone who is discovering that they are multi, or that someone they care about is. Or it may be of academic interest to someone." Mostly, it's met the first goal.

It's been written almost entirely my voice, although Lynn has chimed in from time to time, and Sam spoke up once or twice. I can hear Sam's influence in my writing, sometimes, even if she's not speaking. I've written anywhere from only one to over twenty posts in a given month (this is my 23rd post this month). The biggest topics (from my wordcloud - over 20 tags), have been multiplicity, my point of view, and things I've read by other multiples. Other big commonalities, with at least seven posts tagged, have been comparisons between personalities, kink/BDSM, parenting, polyamory, preaching, relationships with others, my boyfriend/dom, Kiara, and observations by Lynn.

I've had a couple-dozen comments on nineteen of those posts, about half of those being my own comments. I have 10 posted followers, but I know there are several more as well. At first I only gave the link out to people that specifically asked for it that I trusted with these writings. But later I posted the link within my writing on the kink site so that anyone who was reading up on my multiplicity could come here and learn more, if they were interested enough to click a few links.

I've grown a lot in the last 100 posts, which took about one year and two weeks. I've found/added/grown two new alters, and been getting to know them. I've developed a lot more control over who's switching when, and how well I communicate that to others who might be around. I've also been able to become a lot more open about my multiplicity to others, and found a lot of acceptance from them. I came out about being kinky, poly, and multiple to my sister and my daughter - and both are supportive and accepting.

Where do I want to be in another year, another 100 posts? I suspect the 200 posts will get here well before 2 years, if my recent posting rate is to be used as an indicator. I'd like still better understanding of my alters. I'd really like to see some of them write some posts. Maybe some poetry - Sam has some gift for it. Rubi does as well, though hers has a more driving beat, and even in writing seems to be blood-splattered. I would love to have more readers, and comments from them on my posts - pertinent helpful comments. I have a hope of someday hearing that my blog has been of help to another multiple.

Fears - I worry about adding more alters. How many are in there to come out at some point? I thought I heard a new voice yesterday. I thought, "Oh please not now," and heard a response that seemed to be, "okay, I can wait." So I don't think I'm finished counting. Do I want some integration? Sam could so easily join in with Me, or with Rubi. Could Paul fit back into Cherish, or with Kiara? Would they want to? I don't think they do. Is Silent One needed any longer - maybe it could fade away?

Louis Levine [Me]

I've run across something that makes me curious, and curse the holes in my memory. Everything that's suspicious is nothing but hypothetical, except the timing.

In April 2009, a teacher named Louis Levine was arrested on counts of child pornography. He had lured lots of teenagers to his house, giving them condoms and porn and pot and alcohol. Then when they got to fooling around, he surreptitiously videotaped it. He had hundreds of tapes of kids having sex.

Now, Louis used to be the guy in charge of the Animal Room at a kids' museum I volunteered at. I was about fourteen at the time; so that was back in 1989. And the reports on his arrest show that he had been doing this since at least the early 80's. I look back and realize that if I'd run across him just a few years later, I'd probably be on those tapes of his.

However, theoretically, maybe I could be? I don't really have much memory of that period in my life. If I had been involved in his teen-sex scheme, wouldn't that hold some potential trigger of my multiple personalities?

Honestly, I know that that kind of hole in my memory would have been noted back then, even if I don't remember now. And at 14 I was a white-bread clean-cut kid. At 15, it would have been another story. So I know nothing happened. And yet.

You know, I actually accepted my self-diagnosis of MPD back in June of 2009. Weird timing, isn't it? Yep, it's False Memory Syndrome just waiting to happen.

The Kid is The Awesome [Me]

I just got off the phone with my daughter, who is away at college. My birthday is coming up, so she was asking about what I might want. And then, almost as an afterthought, she asks, "Does Kiara like bubbles? What about stickers? I want to send her something, too."

Now, my daughter isn't the only person who picks out Kiara to want to do something a little extra for. Heck, lots of people do it. But considering how little time she's spent with me since she found out I was multiple, and considering that she really doesn't know any of the alters, I thought that was really sweet of her. I've written before about what a great kid she is, but she just keeps proving me right.

Conjunction of Timing [Me]

Gentlemen, there will be some discussion here of menstruation - if it squicks you, stop reading now.

Sometimes two completely unrelated circumstances fit together in unfortunate ways. This weekend am I going to accept my boyfriend's collar. I'm very excited - it's equivalent to a wedding, really, except without the annoying legal issues and filing paperwork and changing my name. We have all sorts of things planned, a whole ceremony at the BDSM club with all our friends invited and everything.

Well, as part of the preparations for the ceremony and scene, he's placed a couple of restrictions on me. One is that I must avoid any activities that might create damage to my body. We want my body to be as completely healed as possible for the ceremony. It will involve him using a whip on me until I break and give in to him, and for it to have the fullest meaning possible,  I must not have other injuries. Which means that for the past few weeks, I've played lightly or not at all. We've allowed no cutting, either.

For this week, he's also put me on restriction that I may not have any orgasms - not even through masturbation. This isn't really to make the scene better; it's because he can. Also so that I'll be wanting pretty badly by the time I get there. And maybe it'll help smooth the way to process the pain as pleasure. But mostly, I think it's to be mean, because he can. And I'm okay with that.

At least, I was until this morning. When my period started. Now, some months are barely noticeable, pain-wise. Some feel like dying. And of course, this month is the latter. The pain has been so strong all day long that I've had trouble concentrating on conversations I've had. When you talk on the phone for a living, that's a problem. I've written before about my problems with pain meds, so you'll understand that I haven't taken any. When the cramps hit at home, alcohol and hot baths help. But at work, taking a walk and waiting for it to pass is about all I've got. Or sneaking off to the bathroom and masturbating. Orgasms do reduce period cramps. Oh wait, I'm not allowed any right now.

So the other option I've got is to try to share some of the sensation out to my alters. I can't switch completely, because I'm at work. But maybe just some help? Jarett and Paul are out - when I'm on my period, Jarett stays out of the body, and I'm betting Paul will follow him. Kiara doesn't like pain, and won't stick around for it. Cherish can often block some pain in a single part of our body. But these cramps are in several places, and she just can't get them all without coming fully out. And she can't do that at work. Obviously Rubi can't be at work, either, and without an opponent to focus on, the pain doesn't mean anything to her. Lynn doesn't know what to do with physical pain.

So that leaves me and Sam. When Sam's out at work, her snarkiness tends to get me in trouble. And as she says, this pain ain't sexy in any way. So I'm trying to share enough with her that I can function, without having her telling off my customers or coworkers. Mostly I've just huddled in my cubicle waiting for time to go home.

The good part of this is that it's starting several days before the scene. I would really hate for it to have started Friday. It may even be done by Friday. And tonight is a night that I have planned to stay home. A hot bath, a sangria, and some comfort food. Yeah, I'll feel better in a few hours.

Am I An Adult YET? [Me, Sam]

I've had a couple of completely unrelated conversations recently about what it means to be an adult. How can you tell when you've finally 'grown up'?

Obviously, when you're 18 is one acceptable answer. If you're old enough to go fight and die for other folks, you deserve to be treated as an adult. You can legally sign a contract and be held to it. You can do serious time for breaking the law, and anything from that point will stick with you. Your parents no longer have a legal responsibility toward you - unless you go to college. You can inherit without someone else to supervise. You can buy what you want and can afford - except alcohol.  You can vote.

When my daughter asked me when I would consider her an adult, my answer depended heavily on being financially independent. She's already mature in most other ways. I told her I would consider her fully an adult when she was out of college, had her own job and place to live, and paid all of her own bills with no assistance needed from Mommy. By that measure, I'm almost grown up. My Mom has been giving me money to help with my mortgage for years. As of next month, she will no longer do so; I'll  finally be a grown-up, going by this measure.

But that's all the tangible things that really don't mean anything compared todisplaying adult behavior. Much of being an adult has to do with the intangible - your psychological maturity level, and how you react - or don't react.

An adult can be patient. May not be, but can be. A child wants everything right now. An adult will save up, waiting for that sale, or waiting to have the cash instead of going into debt. Or just waiting for the right time. An adult has to have patience with their finances, with other people, and with themselves.

An adult displays selflessness. When you are an adult, you realize that it's just not all about you. As long as it is all about you, you are still, psychologically, a child. Being an adult means sometimes putting aside your own wants and even needs in order to meet the wants and needs of your child, or your spouse, or someone else. An adult recognizes the need to sometimes make someone else a priority.

And an adult has learned to recognize that other people will not always agree with them. And that's okay. It's okay - even good - for people to have differing opinions, even to have conflicting facts. Just because you feel strongly about your thoughts on the matter, doesn't mean the other person is wrong. You can both have valuable viewpoints. Then again, you might be wrong. And an adult can accept that they have been wrong, admit it, and move on.

If admitting you're wrong isn't enough, sometimes you have to seek and reach a compromise. This goes back to the selflessness. Maybe everyone can't get everything they need, but you can make sure that the most important needs of each are met. It takes practice to learn how to find compromise - and more practice accepting it.

And when they've done wrong, an adult accepts the blame for what they've done. And accepts the consequences of those actions. Even the consequences of having done right. The choices you make color what happens to you. And how you react to that colors what happens next.

And what about those 'wrong' people? You can't be friends with them? That's okay. You don't have to like them. But you do have to treat them with a minimal level of respect and refrain from bashing them, belittling them, or infringing upon their rights. Yeah, I'm talking about tolerance. Adults have it.

You know what else adults have? Self control. Your temper will get you in trouble. So will your impatience. Or your dislike of a person or situation. An adult has learned how to get through a situation, a day, a down time, a conversation. You don't have to like it, but you have to deal with it. And with the consequences thereof.

Honor and Accountability. When an adult says they will do something, they will. An adult makes - and keeps - appointments and commitments. And if they can't keep a commitment, they inform the other parties, and do what's reasonable to make up for it or fix a substitute. It's simply unthinkable to just shirk one's responsibilities - if you're an adult.

And there are a few last spiritual items on want to touch upon - if anyone is still reading.

An adult has figured out that you can't stop growing once you grow up. An adult takes steps to improve themselves - whether that is to increase their ability to follow the guidelines above, improve their health, learn something, move along a spiritual path, or just to be a better person. An adult takes control of their own happiness, instead of depending on someone else to make them happy.

I asked my Facebook friends how they know when they are an adult. My favorite answer:
When I quit asking people for permission to be me.

A Small Victory [Me]

Last night had a taste of progress to me. We went out to the club, and for a good chunk of time, Kiara was out. Yes, I let the six-year-old out at a BDSM club. Really, she loves it there. People recognize her and have little problem shifting to treat 'me' like a six-year-old. Roleplay is second nature there, and we are remarkably accepting people. So she was out, talking and making jokes and cuddling with various people.

My ex-boyfriend was there, too. The one we were dating when I realized 'I' was a 'we'. He and I are still very good friends, but one of the reasons we finally broke up - not the only one, though - is that I never felt that he 'got' that I'm multiple. He said he wanted to support and help us any way he could, and I believed him. But he just didn't seem able to wrap his mind around the situation and deal with us as an us. It's okay, lots of people can't.

Even just a few weeks ago, Kiara was obviously out - and it's pretty obvious when she's out; she's not subtle at all - and he started asking me about a conversation we had had earlier. As soon as he started talking, I knew that he was going to disregard that she was there, because he's never really acknowledged anyone other than me before. So I fed Kiara responses to his questions so she didn't have to shift back out.

But last night, he made the leap. Kiara was wandering around, and he actually asked, "So who am I talking to?" And Kiara got to say her name to him, and it was like being seen for the very first time. And when I switched in a few minutes later to help him with something on the computer, he asked again. That was a huge thing for us in regards to him. It felt good.

How Are You? [Me]

Fair warning, I'm reading others' blogs today. And today I've just started the blog of a multiple who is relentlessly positive, even when she's in a depression. I'm enjoying reading her blog. I like her.

I've stopped at a post that she also entitled "How Are You?" Her intro:

How many times a day do you either say or hear, “How are you?”  It seems this question has become mundane and meaningless.  So many times a day I hear, “Hi.  How are you?”  At which I am supposed to say that I am fine and ask the person how they are out of courtesy.  Can you tell this phrase is at the top of my annoyance list?  The other possibility is that the person simply is asking how you are so that you will ask them so that they are now set up to tell you what they really just wanted to say in the beginning which is how they are, which often is more on the negative side.  Why can people not just be blunt and straight forward?  Instead of asking, “How are you?” just tell me what you really want to tell me, stop setting me up to live a facade and fake a “I’m fine how are you?” just so that you can tell me your problems.

My comment in reply to her:

I try to never ever answer with, “I’m fine.” My standard don’t-really-want-to-talk-but-here’s-an-answer is “Great.” Because all told, my life is great. And since they don’t really care what I answer, I should remind myself of that. 

I have a friend who almost always answers with, “I'm okay” in an Eyeore voice. And I call him on it. I poke until he tells me something that’s good or something that’s bad. I don’t care which, but tell me something that shows you’re a person. The last time we were around each other, we had a lot of fun, and as we were recovering from our laughter, he whispered to me, “I am ever so much more than okay.” It felt like magic.

I am a believer in speaking things into being. If people ask me fifty times how I am, and I say I'm great, I'll convince myself of it. And if I consistently tell people that I'm not so great, well, I'll believe that, too. You can, to a great extent, choose your outlook.

An exercise:
Look back on your day yesterday and pick out three reasons why it was a bad day. I'll help, even without knowing anything about it -
1-The weather was terrible; it was too hot/cold/sunny/windy/wet/dry.
2-Traffic was a pain; people in ____ are horrible drivers.
3-I hate talking to that one person every day that I can't avoid.
Now you pick three. It really was a horrible day, wasn't it?

Okay, now wipe that clean, and find three reasons why it was a great day. Here's a start:
1-I was healthy enough to go out/stay in and get ______ done; I've been meaning to do that.
2-For one meal, I ate _____ - I like that.
3-I talked to _______; they are actually pretty nice.
Now you pick three. Does it sound like a really good day yet? Didn't you have a great day?

So yes, you can, to an extent, determine whether you are having a great day or an awful one. And sometimes the big factor is how you answer the question "How are you?" So don't tell people you are 'fine'. Fine doesn't really mean anything; it's an invisible nothingness. Be Great. Heck, be Terrible if you need to, and accept some comfort from the person who asks. But be something; don't be invisible.

When my daughter was young, maybe in Kindergarten, she came home one day and told me that she had had a terrible day. And for some reason, she decided to identify herself as an animal in her misery. All melodramatically, she announced, "I... am a POSSUM." And I was amused. So I asked her, "I don't like possums.Could you maybe, just possibly, be a rat instead?" She agreed she could make that small step. "I am a rat!" And I asked her about another animal. Each time, we went a little higher on her/my estimation of the animal, until she was bouncing on the bed announcing what kind of animal she was. "I am a Horse!" "I am an Eagle!" And finally, I asked if she could be a cougar. Striking a dramatic pose, she declared "I... am a COUGRA!"

Small Steps Toward Friendship [Me]

The boyfriend has been worrying himself a lot lately about the fact that his two girlfriends have not yet become close friends. I've blogged a couple of times touching on the subject. Basically, my reaction to that is that we are more likely to become friends when we are living together and spend more time around each other. The moving in process should create enough conflicts that we'll learn to get along better through that. And if we are both committed to getting along so we can be with him, well, it'll work itself out.

One of the issues is that she is also multiple - she has at least seven currently that I'm aware of, but has to reorganize a lot more frequently than I. And that means we're not talking about a relationship between two people. We're talking about one relationship shared among a dozen or more. Teachers could tell you, when you put a dozen people in a room and say, 'be friends', you're going to get a mixed bag of results. I really believe that most of her alters and most of my alters will be able to each get along with at least one person in the other's system, as time goes by. But some just won't.

Interestingly enough, the relationship I worry most of all about is her youngest and mine. Both are pretty possessive of the boyfriend, and both young enough to not like the idea of sharing. They relate to him a little differently; hers is much more innocent than mine, too. But I have faith in Kiara's ability to win people over.

She has one alter that is having serious jealousy problems over me. That one alter is very monogamous and doesn't want to share and is very angry that she's having to do so. Unfortunately, for a few weeks now, that alter has been the primary front. And she's acting out because of that jealousy and trying to sabotage the relationship the three of us have with pouting and guilt trips. This really makes me feel sad. And powerless. Because I'm not the one with the initial relationship with her, that puts the boyfriend square in the middle of it. He's put in the awkward position of having to somewhat play parent to her. I've tried to simply stay out of the way of that and be as supportive as possible of any changes he's needed to make to our plans because of it.

A few days ago, her system got together and decided that the jealousy and anger was becoming too big a problem. And they reorganized to pull that alter back some and not let her be in front as much. The last few days, mostly I've seen her slave alter. She's as devoted to her Master as is Cherish, but she's much more experienced at being a person, and not nearly as meek. And she doesn't share the jealousy issue - I make her Master happy, therefore she's pleased to have me there. I've really enjoyed speaking with her and I know we can get along well. We both want the household to run smoothly and happily, and can both compromise where needed.

So I think our (all three of us) relationship stands a much better chance of working well with this alter out. But it makes me very sad that the previous front-alter couldn't learn to get along from me, and has had to be pushed to the background instead. It feels like I've failed to get along with her, even though I know there's nothing really I could do. My hope is that, once we all live together for a few months, and she sees that I'm not going anywhere, but I'm not trying to push her out either, maybe we can get along okay, at least. I certainly understand her jealousy and anger, I just don't share it.

Public Thanks [Me, Lynn]

Okay, this post has nothing to do with multiplicity, kink, or poly. It's about how you treat people you are responsible for. I'm using a kid as an example, but it fits for boss/employee, dom/sub, pet owner/pet, or any other authority relationship.

-----

There is a common business management teaching to Praise Publicly, Criticize Privately. I wish it were taught more consistently in other contexts, as well. Going along with that should be Thank Publicly, Correct Privately. Parents, especially, should learn this one (doms too).

When you are responsible for the behavior of another person, what kind of behavior do you want to call attention to? When you praise or criticize in private, your words and attitudes reinforce the behavior of your child/sub/pet. When you praise or criticize in front of other people, there are more dynamics in play. Not only your opinion is represented, but what you say or the attitude your body language shows is also reflected onto anyone who is watching.

For instance, your teenager says something rude to you at home, and you get angry and yell at them. You are at home, in a safe place for that teen. They feel brave enough to argue back, and apparently discount your words. But your displeasure does hit home, and even if they don't show it, they feel it. 'Mom is mad' gets imprinted, and attached to the behavior you criticized. However, have the exact same conversation in front of a bunch of other parents, who see the scene and may whisper to each other, or mumble and nod, or even chime in. Now your child attaches 'Mom is mad' and 'those people think I'm bad' to the behavior. But they also attach 'Mom embarrassed me' and the anger that goes with it. And so now they are mad and may feel justified to behave badly. So, have the exact same conversation in front of other kids - the other kids are likely to chime in on their side, so you get 'Mom is mad' and 'Mom embarrassed me', but you also get 'and my friends are on my side, so Mom must be wrong'. And every time your kid sees you and the people in the 'audience' together, they'll be reminded of the criticism and embarrassment, and probably behave badly again.

The same process works for praise, but even more so, I think. In private, you get 'okay, Mom's happy with me, nice' and it's dismissed. In front of friends, you get 'Mom's pleased - and my friends know I've done something to please her'. But in front of other parents, you get 'Mom's pleased, and these people know I am fantastic'. And the next time your kid sees those other parents, they remember 'they think I'm great' - and then set out to prove that they are great.

This is why you praise publicly and criticize privately. Public criticism is more about the one who messed up and their embarrassment - it breeds resentment instead of correction. Private criticism can be about what was messed up and how to correct it. Private praise, however, is faint and not as effective. Public praise, however, is reinforcing and empowering.

There is more to this, of course. How do you want people to see you? As a parent, if your child deserves an immediate reaction, you give it - pulling them away from others, if needed. But remember, your actions are seen by that audience, too. Do you want people to think of you as that person who is always fussing at their kid? Do that out of sight. If you praise your kid in public, though, you're not only telling your kid that they are good, but you're telling other people that your kid is good. So when they see your kid, they start off with the assumption of good behavior, which is often a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Defective, Damaged, Wounded [Me, Lynn]

I'm reading risingrainbow's blog entry Damaged Goods. Do you see yourself as defective, damaged, or wounded? How you view your negatives greatly impacts how you react to them, and whether you can overcome them.

Damaged as in crushed, broken, soiled, torn............damaged as in wounded, bleeding, bruised, battered, dying. A damaged child am I, furtively trying to convince the world that I have been untouched!

I find that beautiful. And sad.

Someone who is defective can not be fixed, only dealt with and replaced. When you see yourself as defective, there is no hope for a better future. So many of us have been convinced we are defective. We can never amount to anything, never expect rescue or healing or a better life.

Someone who is damaged - maybe they can be repaired. They'll never be whole, but maybe they can be 'good enough'. Like a vehicle that's been wrecked and repaired (wordplay - wrecked, wretched - something is speaking to me there), the damage is still there, even if you can't see it. Too many people go through life damaged, but repaired enough that no one can see it.

But wounded... wounds heal. Medicine will heal wounds. Time heals wounds. And when they have healed, it can be as if they never were. The wounds may scar, but then scars fade, and the hurt is gone. Can we upgrade our hurting to wounded? I mean 'we' the world, not 'we' my system, in this case.

I see my splintering into what is now nine parts as damage. I have repaired a lot of the damage - most people would never know that I have a black spot on my 'title'. We function as a whole individual all the time. Only occasionally is there a mysterious creak in our psyche that indicates there may be something behind the shiny paint and repaired dents. I don't expect the splintering to go away - honestly I don't even want it to; I like being multiple. But I am aware the damage is there, and is simply repaired, not wiped away.

Other things, like the reasons why I splintered in the first place, I think are wounds. Ones that have, for the most part, healed to scars. I can look at the scar from my teen marriage and say, "I remember when that happened," without reliving the pain of the experience. It's simply a scar. Maybe one day, even the scars will fade away into a simple entry in my past.

How about you? What sort of damage do you carry around? What wounds do you have that you see healing as time goes by?

My Jealousy Broke Again... [Me]

I recognize that in certain situations I'm 'supposed' to be struggling with my jealousy over my boyfriend. After all, I'm sharing him with another woman. I should be unhappy when he's with her and not me, and I need to compete with her to make sure that I get a better share of him than she does... Right? That's what Society tells me. Well, I think my jealousy circuit is broken.

It's Valentine's Day today. At three in the afternoon, I don't know if I'm going to see my boyfriend tonight or not. But I'm okay either way. I had a fantastic time with him last night. At one point, we had tried planning tonight. I suggested she have it; I'm not that big on holidays. But she then insisted we all be together. Now it sounds like she's been fussing at him about wanting him to herself tonight. Fine with me; I'm annoyed with the flip-flopping back and forth, but once I know I'm either seeing him or not, I'm fine either way.

Part of sharing a household with another woman means we both give up a little time with him. Part of being in a relationship with him means that when it's important to me, I will get his full attention. So will she, when it's important to her. Fair enough. I mean, a mom with two kids doesn't hover over each of them all the time; she meets each one's needs and does some special things with each one, and does some things with them both. It should work the same for having two girlfriends, shouldn't it.?

I have found that the only time I really feel jealousy kinds of feelings is when someone I want to be with is having a good time and I'm stuck at home not having any kind of fun. The answer to that isn't to ruin their good time; it's to create my own good time. If the boyfriend is with her, and I'm with other friends, then we're all having fun. If I'm sitting home moping, then that's my problem, not his. I shouldn't be moping. As long as it's not a last minute change to take away from me and give to someone else too often.

The only thing that's bothering me is that I have Valentine's gifts for him and for her, and would like to deliver them tonight.

Debut [Me]

The last few weekends, Cherish has had a couple of events that have served as a debut, introducing her to life outside her Master's house. It's been a nerve-wracking, but successful, undertaking for us. You see, Cherish is shy of people. Okay, she's terrified of people. She exists to please her Master, and he's really the only person that she considers. So on the rare occasion that he's called her out around other people, it has terrified her. What if someone speaks to her? Or expects something of her? She has barely figured out the rules of how to behave at home; public behavior is so much more intimidating. But twice recently, she's been out for most of an evening with her Master in public. And both have gone, actually, quite well.

One evening before going to the BDSM club, the boyfriend told us he would like to have Cherish with him for that evening, and indicated that I should grab her scarf to wear. Cherish has shown a fascination for the arabian headgear, such as niqab and burqa, and for Christmas he gave her a silver scarf to wrap her face/head with. So she put it on at the house, struggling with it to get it fastened correctly, and of course she stayed out for the next several hours. She went with the boyfriend to the club, and followed him around meekly. The scarf over her face seemed to serve as a good visual cue to everyone that we were not our usual self; everyone either ignored her completely, or asked her Master if they might hug her and then left us alone. It's intriguing how a scarf obscuring the face really changes someone's behavior toward us.

This weekend, another event came up; someone held a High Protocol Dinner event where the submissives would serve the dominants. This seemed like the perfect opportunity for Cherish to be out with lots of rules guiding her how to behave. She dressed and did makeup and jewelry - no scarf this time, unfortunately. But even a dress and heels and jewelry and makeup are practically a costume for me - very unusual for me. And the rules of the evening dictated a series of behaviors that generally boil down to being quiet and obedient - which suits Cherish just fine. So she went to the dinner with her Master, and took care of his needs. A couple of times she was directed to speak with or hug someone, but each time it included speaking with him first for permission, so she was able to both assure herself that he wanted her to do so, and prepare herself for it. And because her job for the evening was simply to serve her Master, it was actually quite easy for her. She served him, and experimented with eating for herself. It was a very successful evening. And several people told me later how much they appreciated meeting her and seeing 'me' so nicely behaved.

The next big event for Cherish that I'm expecting? A friend of ours has an authentic burqa, and has said we may borrow it some evening. He warns that when his girl wore it, she complained of being completely invisible. She could barely get to the club's fridge or through a door due to people pushing past her like she was not there at all. Of course, Cherish is looking forward to it.

One Year, 85 Posts [Me]

It was about a year ago that I started this blog. My first post was on February 8 2011. Most of those have been about being multiple. Some have been about particular alters. A lot of posts have been about the relationships I/we have. I have seven official followers, and several more that come here to check on me infrequently. For those that are listening, thank you. This is my therapy, and you mean a lot to me, just knowing that you are out there somewhere.

My Incredible Kid [Me]

I've been hearing a lot of things lately about people with bad relationships with their kids. There's a video going 'round on Facebook by a dad who shoots his teenager's laptop after she rants and raves about how he makes her work so hard - half a dozen chores every day! Another multiple has been blogging about the horrible way her daughter is forcing her out of her life and her granddaughter's life. I hear coworkers complain about horrible things their kids have said to them. Hey, I was a pretty awful teenager myself. Some switch flipped when I was fifteen that made me a terrible person for a while, especially toward my mom.

My heart aches for all the bad relationships out there, particularly between teens and their parents. Kids really need their parents' support at that point, yet are often so hate-filled and distant that they can't accept it. And parents are baffled by their inability to get through to their kids, and crushed emotionally by the way their kids turn on them. Because they didn't get along with their parents when they were teens, they are primed to fail in relating to their teens when they become parents. And these are the healthy families. In families with abuse and mental disorder and other issues, it gets so much worse.

But I want to talk about my teenage daughter. She's off at college now, but still a teen. And she is an incredible person. I don't know what I did right exactly, but we never went through the 'teen angst' stage of her growing up. We never hated each other, unless she did so and hid it really really well. She has been my best friend for the last almost-twenty years. And I am so proud of her I could burst.

Even as a little kid, she was a pleasure to have around. She was precocious socially, and I took her with me everywhere - as a single parent must. She was more comfortable with adults than with kids. When I went to parties, I would be greeted with, "Hey, you brought the kid, right? I was looking forward to seeing her." And not, "Oh gee, you brought the kid. So you won't be staying long, right?" She was friendly and intelligent, courteous to other people and inclusive in her play and conversation. My friends would come over to hang out with her as much as with me. Everyone was her friend, but no one so much as me. I was only seventeen when she was born; we grew up together. And she was a model for me on how to love your fellow man.

The last time I remember actually having a fight with her, she was maybe nine years old, ten? She did the eye roll and hand-on-hip thing when I was answering a question she'd asked, and I lost it. There were a few more stages involving furniture being mauled and slamming of doors. After the explosions in my head quieted down, we had a long conversation. It basically consisted of me saying, "We are going to be living together for the next ten years. We can get along, or we can fight - your choice. If we fight, be advised that I will win - I'm bigger, smarter, faster, stronger, and more experienced than you - and I control your food, finances, and transportation. I am your mother first, and nothing you can do will change that. It's up to you whether or not I will also be your friend." We haven't really fought since then, aside from minor squabbles. "I don't like you right now," answered with, "Fair enough; you don't have to like me. You just have to do what I say."

Even now, my daughter will call me when she's working on a paper to get my opinion, or to share with me some happy thing that happened to her today, or ask what I think she should do about some decision she's making. Sometimes I know she's calling because she just wants to talk, and the rest is excuse. I know that I am incredibly blessed with such a wonderful daughter.

I feel so sad for people who fight with their teens constantly. I want to yell, "It doesn't have to be that way!" But why is it that way so often? Is it because we have now taught ourselves that teens are supposed to be problems? Is it because we give them too much freedom and not enough responsibility - or the other way around? One of my pet theories has to do with our society's lack of ritual milestones - kids don't have a definitive step to say they are not a child any more, or one to say they are now adults. They have a several-year-long process that doesn't really end; it just kind of fizzles out.

But it doesn't have to be that way - I never went through that with my kid. Did I do something really really right as a parent? Granted, my mother was a wonderful parent to me, and I learned a lot from her - but then again, I was a terrible teen. Maybe she is just that person - no matter what I might have done, she was destined to turn out a great person. As a single mom, I probably shared more 'adult stuff' with her than most kids get - she was my partner in life. So she may have understood better where certain rules and results came from. But there are a few things that I can look back and say, yeah, I did that right.

Communication - In any relationship, I am a huge believer in communication. When you're happy, share it. When you're unhappy, share it. Tell each other how your day went, what you're struggling with, why you do the things you do, what's on the schedule for tonight, tomorrow, next year. What are your dreams? What are your everyday concerns? The more you communicate, the better chance you have of working together. Sure, that means that sometimes you hear things you don't want to. Share anyway. I knew all about my daughter's day at school, her friends, her assignments, her schedule, her triumphs, her failures. Sometimes I heard so much about her life that it was nearly overwhelming. But I knew who she was, and what she thought about, and what she needed help with. And that doesn't go one way. She knew about problems I had at work, thoughts I had on what to fix for dinner. She met my boyfriends - and got to tell me what she thought of them. And when she had an opinion on a decision I needed to make, I listened to it.

Consequences/Failure - I made my daughter make her own choices, and when they were bad choices, I let her fail. I let her make a bad decision, fall down, and pick herself back up. I was there with a hand - if she asked for it. And if she asked for advice first, I'd give it. Sometimes she'd ask me for advice, and I would tell her what I thought she should do and why. Sometimes she would thank me and do the opposite. Sometimes she would agree with me and do as I advised. I let her do whichever she chose, and I expected her to live with the consequences of her actions. If the consequences of doing something meant she would earn a punishment, I would step back and let her do it - and she would turn herself in for the punishment she earned. Sometimes, she decided it had been worth it. As she got older, she started deciding that Mom might be right, and more often than not would heed my advice. But it was her choice. She was allowed to make decisions that would lead her to a failure. How else do you learn to avoid that failure?

Honesty/Honor - I try to always do what I say I will do. And answer questions honestly. If I told my daughter I would be there for something, I did everything in my power to be there. And if I couldn't be there, I told her so. I didn't lead her on with empty promises. I always told her - as I tell anyone else - you may ask me anything, and I will answer you honestly. My answer may be that it isn't your business, or advice to withdraw the question, but I will answer. The hardest question my daughter ever asked me was about her father and our marriage. She was about five, and she looked at me one day and asked, "Momma, did he hit you?" I asked her to withdraw the question, but she insisted that she wanted an answer. So I answered her - yes, he hit me. I didn't give her a long story about what happened, just a simple answer to her question. Her next question was, "Do you think he will hit me?", and I told her no. That was the end of that line of questioning; that's all she wanted to know. After that, no other question she asked was too difficult.

Explanations & Demonstrations - Some answers need explained. And some actions need explained. I may have told my daughter too much about what the life of a grown-up is like. But I had this philosophy that my job as a parent was to prepare her to be an adult, not just to take care of her as a child. So she saw a lot of what being an adult was like. She saw me sit down and work on a budget and pay bills. And when she asked for something and the money wasn't there, I told her that we couldn't afford it; I didn't just say 'no'. And when I made a choice that she was involved in, I told her why I made that choice. It wasn't just because I said so.

So yeah, maybe I did a few things right. Some people would say I took away the innocence of her childhood away from her by letting her see so much adult decision-making. I say, look - she's an adult now, and she can make decisions. I didn't protect her from the consequences of her actions. And now she acts wisely.

I mean, my kid's not perfect. She has faults, she makes mistakes. And I know I screwed up really bad as a parent a few times. But I'm terribly proud of the person she turned out to be, and I know that I have some to do with that. It's not all me - she did the work. But yeah, she's fantastic. I wish everyone could feel about their children the way I feel about mine.

INSiDE short film [Me]

This is amazing! It may be pretty triggering, so watch carefully, but yes, this is what it feels like, especially on the really noisy days.

You almost never see Lynn out front, but this is the way she works in the background to keep everyone else working. The little girl is very much like Kiara, especially with the singing kids songs to distract. The angry guy is Rubi-ish. The lady is saying what she thinks the Lynn-doctor wants to hear. Cherish will do that sometimes. The laughing guy in the suit bears some resemblance to Sam, never taking things seriously. And that look when the lady-doctor says, "Now, go ahead", oh yes, I've seen that look...

Less Bright and Cheery [Me]

I feel like Kiara's been having a rough time lately. There have been a lot of changes in a little girl's world that might not be so happy. She still seems cheerful, but not nearly as before the big temper tantrum-lock out weekend. I'm going to guess that Paul was probably already starting to emerge then, but I wasn't aware of it.

But there have been a few changes lately that have had some impact on her. The first is our relationship(s) with our boyfriend. Six months ago, he was one of many friends I had, but he was Kiara's special guy that lit up her world. Because he was so important to her, pretty much any time with him got to be her time. Now we all want some of his time, we all have to share him. It means she gets more time with him, but she does have to share.

Another relationship, that with a former dom, has also impacted her. This is someone that we 'big girls' have played with, been friends with, been somewhat in love with. It terrified us to tell him we were multiple, but we did, and that was fine. Kiara finally got over being scared of him, enough to come out and get very close to him. Due to some things happening in his life, he's been unavailable for the last couple of months, and so just as she got over be afraid of him, he pretty much exited our life. Hopefully that's temporary.

And until the last couple of weeks, Kiara's been the only kid in the system. Now Paul's here. I said before it's like Mom & Dad bringing home a new big brother as a surprise. Not something most little kids handle really well.

But, she's adjusting. Because she has a little kid's resiliency. We'll see how it goes.

Oh, and she's decided to remain at the age of six when her birthday comes round in a few weeks.

My Wimpy Trauma [Me]

Sometimes I feel guilty. Especially when I read other multiples' accounts of the trauma that split them. I read horrible accounts of ritual abuse over years, heartbreaking stories of constant gang-bang rapes, unbelievable tales of children prostituted and abused and neglected. Going through things like that, no wonder these folks have developed multiple personalities. The only way to stay sane is to fracture, to intentionally become insane so that a piece can survive.

Poor me, all I dealt with was an abusive marriage. I was fifteen years old before I even heard my parents raise their voices to one another. Before I was fifteen, the only time my parents struck me were for spankings or once when my mom slapped me because I was lying to her face. So my husband yelled at me, hit me, choked me, tried to run over me with a car. Is that all? Poor whiny me. In the grand scheme of things, it just wasn't all that bad. Sometimes I want to apologize to other multis for even sharing multiplicity with them.

Granted, there was more to it than that - I wrote about it in an earlier journal. But really, my story was bad, but not horrific like that of some other multiples. I wonder if that's why I seem to have fewer alters, and we're more co-conscious and able to work together more easily than it seems most multiples experience. I've joked before that have DID-Light, the mild version. Just enough to be entertaining...

Lock Me Away - No Don't, Really - Just a Daydream [Me, Sam]

I was joking the other day with a friend about being locked up for my own safety. Now, I don't need to be locked away; I don't really even want to be locked away. But there are times when it sounds might appealing.

During my first marriage of eleven months, I have a great big memory hole. I remember less than two weeks, and  over a week of that was spent in the psych eval ward. It was a lovely pleasant time. We did crafts and were fed lots of fruit, and a staff of nurses saw to our every need. Group Therapy was a fun period where I got to know more about my new friends. I loved it. They discharged me after 10 days, and I was sad.

But sometimes, I do get tired of being responsible for myself, my selves. What if I could let Rubi rage and fume and yell and scream freely? What if Sam could run unchecked and say anything she wanted? What if Kiara could have temper tantrums and not have to answer to the big girls?

You know what happens in the mental wards? They give you drugs to keep you all the time loopy and compliant. And your decisions are made for you - your schedule is set, your menu is set, even your bedtime is set. Sometimes I want the padded walls and someone else making the decisions for me. I get tired of fighting to maintain control. I get tired of being a responsible adult who has to suffer the consequences of not only my decisions and actions, but those of everyone else in my head.

What if the drugs silenced the crowd and made me singular and quiet? Would I mourn? Would I sleep like I'd never slept before? Would they miss me?

I can 'hear' Sam's influence in my writing on this one, so I'm giving her credit in the title. I don't really want to lose you, Sam. It's just a 'what-if' daydream...

Man Time [Me]

I've only ever written one post specifically about Jarett. A lot of that is that he just isn't 'out' that often. Also, he's not interested in the kink. And some of it's that I just don't know what to say about him; or what to do with him. To date, Jarett's role has been mostly that of a chauffeur. He does a lot of our driving. He's occasionally come out to have dinner or do some girl-watching. But he's not usually out on purpose for any length of time, the way Kiara or Cherish might often be.

That's beginning to change. You see, the boyfriend has a female alter, named Rachel. And we have recently discovered - Surprise! - that certain positions bring out both Rachel and Jarett. Or at least bring out one of them, and that causes the other to come out to match. They have a lot in common, after all. They're both trapped in the wrong kind of body. But once the bodies are fit together, it can be made to work.

With a few successful ventures out, I've seen a lot of new confidence in Jarett's demeanor. He's also been paying more attention when I masturbate on my own - after all, here is his very own female body to play with and test ideas out on. And when I encourage him to then share the front, he has some real earmarks of a sexual sadist. It's a delicate balance, having him in control of part of the body but keep the sensations flowing through me instead.

Only once so far have we been able to bring both Jarett and Rachel out together, not in the middle of sex. But they got to actually talk, and play around - even flirt. It's really amazing to watch from the sidelines and see how different Jarett is in our body. His movements are different, his voice is lower. He's got that macho need to appear to be in control, but I can hear his thoughts of insecurity. Add to that, he has to figure out how to treat a male body as a female. When he's never been with another female before. Some experimentation is in order. And since I can see a lot of his thoughts, I'm looking forward to the experiments he's thinking about.

Where Did All The Multis Come From? [Me]

Before I knew that I had multiple personalities, I really didn't know anything about the condition - and I didn't know anybody that had it. At least, not to my knowledge. It was something other people dealt with. After I realized that I was multiple, it seems like I know more multiples than I do singletons. I was talking about this with a friend the other day (who is also a multiple, of course), and briefly hit upon a few theories.

The New-Car Effect - When you get a new car, suddenly it seems like there are a lot of that make and model car on the roads as you drive around. It's not that there are more of them, really. It's just that you're primed to notice them now, because that car shape is familiar to you. When you're multiple, you listen more intently when someone says something about MPD/DID.

Multiplicity Is In - There seems to be a cycle of diseases that become popular to diagnose. It's cool to have this condition now. A lot of times, it's a psychological disorder, because those are harder to prove that you have or you don't have. ADD/ADHD were hot for a while, then it was Bipolar; now it's Asperger's. It seems like DID is on the rise as the 'hot' condition to have. The condition is mentioned more in the news or on TV shows, then everyone seems to popping up with it. Some are legit, but some are just seeking attention or convince themselves that they have it when they hear about it.

Association Of Dissociation - People who do have mental conditions can feel isolated, embarrassed to be 'out' about their issue, or afraid that coming clean means getting locked up in a mental ward. When one person comes out and is open about their condition, others with the same condition feel braver about saying, "Hey, me too!" If the first person isn't ostracized, the next person feels safer.

You Find What You Look For - If you hang out on forums about MPD, you end up talking to people who have MPD. And because you both have it, it's easier to form a friendship. So I have a lot of multi friends because I purposely hang out with multi people.

I Wanna' Be Like You - There are lots of things about being a multiple that other people will recognize in themselves. After all, everyone dissociates sometimes - driving on boring roads, sleeping, doing mundane tasks. And when a multi talks about how it feels to them, singletons recognize some of that and then wonder, "Am I multiple?"

Awareness - A lot of multiples have been diagnosed as other issues. Lots of other issues, often stacking on top of each other. Even in the psych-eval community, DID is way down on the list of things they consider when they're trying to figure out just what's wrong. As mental health pros learn more about DID and how to recognize it, more people are being correctly diagnosed with DID instead of something else.

So there are a lot of reasons that I'm hearing more people say, "Hey, I'm multiple too." Some are legit, some just think they're multiple. But the label is being used more.

They Say It's Your Birthday [Me]

(Fair warning - I have about five blog topics lined up, and I'm going to try to get them all written before the end of the week.)

So here's one that's a particularly multiple kind of issue. When's your birthday? You have an answer for that one, right? I have several answers, and sometimes the answer is 'no' or 'I don't know'.

I have a birthday. It's the date I was born, just like everyone else. Kiara also has a very definite birthday. It's about two weeks after my birthday. It's also the birthday of a dear friend of mine from high school. I don't know if that's why she has that date as her birthday or not, but she is very firm about that being her birthday.

So what about everyone else? I know a lot of people that, once they hit middle age, wouldn't mind saying that they just don't have a birthday anymore. Lynn and Jarett can - and do - say that. I can't see Silent One having anything so human as a birthday. Sam and Rubi just 'look' at me blankly when I ask about birthdays.

So that leaves Cherish and Paul. You know, I can kind of pin down when they came into existence, because it's been since I've started blogging. Cherish doesn't seem to want a birthday - she would much rather celebrate her date of slavery to her Master, which is New Years Day. And I can't yet talk to Paul very clearly. Should he have an individual birthday? Kiara gets one - should all littles/kids in the system have one? Should he share hers? I see problems there. Might his birthday be the anniversary of the first time he came out for sure? That would be last Sunday, then, I think. I'll have to get someone to ask him.

Now, that puts Cherish's slavery, Paul's appearance, Valentine's Day, my birthday, and Kiara's birthday all from New Years to mid-March. And two days before my birthday, we plan on doing a scene where my collaring will be made public. So February's a big month. I think we should be able to consolidate some of these holidays, right? I did joke with a former boyfriend a couple years ago that with my birthday, Valentine's Day, and our anniversary all in one month, he should just break up with me until March.

As a Part Two to the birthday issue, I've heard Kiara trying to decide if she is going to get older on her birthday. Outside, we don't have a choice about changing ages on our birthday, but she does. She could remain six, where she seems to be happy. Or she could progress to seven. She could even jump to an entirely different age. I know another multiple who has an age slider that just picks a new age each birthday.

She's asked the two most important adults to her for input, and of course has gotten a supportive offer to go with whatever she wants. She seems to like being six, though. I guess we'll see what happens.

And Now We Are Nine - Introducing Paul [Me]

We began this journey with seven recognizable alters. About six months ago, a new alter, Cherish, came to light. I wrote about it then, having a lot of issues searching through my head and trying to find out how she fit in. She came without certain skills, like writing and eating and even simple things like taking a shower; it's been an experience helping her learn to be a 'real person', so to speak.

The last few weeks, I've been having similar feelings of someone else being in my head. Thoughts that I couldn't attribute to anyone I know about in there, feelings that didn't come from the eight I knew of. And those thoughts traced back to a new alter again. I had of course suspected that's what was going on, but didn't have anything I could be sure of, just suspicion. I avoided talking about it to anyone, lest I 'speak it into being'. But last weekend, he came out completely. He exists. His name is Paul, and he is an eleven-year old boy.

Paul frightens me a little - well, his memories do. He brings with him very clear memories of being raped by an uncle or another adult male - on a regular basis, over a period of time. Now, these can't be memories of mine - there are specifics in the memories that could only happen to a little boy. And there's a little brother in the memories. So I don't know where these memories come from. Most of the time I think I just read too much and have too good an imagination.

So this weekend, he came out fully, and sat and talked with the boyfriend for a lot longer than I expected. He seems like an okay eleven-year-old boy. He's got a little snarkiness in him that reminds me of Sam. He seemed to have a decent grasp on being 'real'; he even asked for a piece of candy that he knew was in a drawer. So he seems to have access to a lot of memories from the rest of us. He stated clearly that he's not into the S&M play and doesn't want to be hit. Not a problem. He likes video games.

What I didn't expect was that the biggest conflict for Paul - is Kiara. They've apparently been sharing a 'room' in my head, because he doesn't want to 'sleep' alone. And he doesn't like all the girly little-kid stuff. (You know, the English language really isn't sufficient to talk about multiplicity sometimes.) And she doesn't like having another kid around who's getting all the attention. Imagine Mommy and Daddy suddenly come home with a new kid - an older brother. She's not super-thrilled - maybe with time things will improve between them. We did 'make' him a room. We even did some online 'shopping' for a bed that's raised up as a loft with a desk and shelves and stuff underneath. He liked it, and we posted a picture to his pinboard for him. And then we had to shop for a bed for Kiara and post it to her board, too.

So last night was the first night I've slept alone since Paul came out. And I was surprised at how much he was out during the night. I woke a lot, and he was there. I think he's going to settle in okay.

How Do I Reassure Her? [Me]

I wrote sometime back about my metamour, which the technical term for my boyfriend's girlfriend (or my boyfriend's boyfriend, or my girlfriend's boyfriend, whatever). And I wrote about not having a real relationship with her yet, and my confusion with that. The conclusion that I came to is that my sweetie's sweetie is my sweetie, and I have to accept her as being part of him. Just like when you date a person with kids, their kids are a part of them. You don't pick out one without the other. And his other girlfriend is part of him.

I say that to go on with saying that I follow her blog. I wonder if maybe I should not, but it's an invaluable way to know where she's at. I don't know if she's following my blog, and I'm not sure if I want to know this (if she does follow my blog, she now knows I read hers). I was talking with the boyfriend about the subject yesterday, and about him following my blog or her following my blog. Anyway.

I write on my blog, knowing that people I know are reading it, and purposely blocking out an awareness of that particular audience. I write what I need to write, and if someone's going to get hurt feelings because of what I write, then they need to not read my blog.

Which brings me back to reading her blog. Especially when I am mentioned in it. I would hate for her to censor herself about anything - even me - when blogging. So I am not going to reply to her blog by commenting there. But I will write here about it. And she will read it, or not.

She writes about being jealous of my relationship with our boyfriend. And that's to be expected. Before I came along, she had him all to herself. But that wasn't enough for him, because he came chasing me down. And she would like to have him all to herself still/again. But he wouldn't be happy that way. I'd like to have him all to myself, too. But he wouldn't be happy that way, either. No pair of us can meet all of each other's needs. But there aren't enough days in the week for everyone to get time with each other. And so we work on compromise. And sometimes it works. Sometimes one of us is hurt. Sometimes all of us are hurt. But we keep trying.

If she and I were better friends, I think it would be easier. Sooner or later we'll all be living together, and maybe then we'll be around each other enough to be friends. But right now I don't live there. And the times I'm over there, I want his attention on me. Even if we are all together, she's usually closed off, working on the computer. Or asleep when I'm awake and vice-versa. I'm very social and want to be out and going places all the time. She's not as social and her health keeps her from going out almost ever. We don't like the same kind of TV shows. It's hard to make a friendship based solely on our mutual love for him.

The two of them are going to marry eventually. I'll never wear his wedding ring. And I'm okay with that. He'll marry her, and she and I will both wear his collar as His Girls. I did quit following her Wedding Ideas board on Pinterest; it makes me uncomfortable to watch her plan a wedding to the man I love, even so.

I know she worries that I will push her away from him. Or rather that our 'we' will push her 'we' out. And relationships do come to an end. Her relationship to him could end. But I am trying my best not to be a catalyst for that to happen.

And I worry sometimes about her, too, of course. What if she decides that she just absolutely cannot tolerate me, and gives him an ultimatum to choose between us? What happens when things she wants/needs conflict with things I want/need? She has health issues that mean I'm going to end up being the primary house-keeper in our family. I hate that position, especially when I end up with the responsibility for keeping things up and no authority to get other people to cooperate. If her health gets worse, I could end up having to play 'nurse' as well. I don't like the idea, but it could happen.

She could make my relationship with him completely miserable, especially after I leave my house to move in with them. We're both alpha-female type of people. We will clash. And I worry how that will turn out. Will we have to go play tattle-tale to Daddy to make us behave? Or will it get really ugly and turn into passive-aggressive maneuvering and manipulation. I don't play those games well; I tend to deal with it myself fairly straightforwardly. I'm used to being the boss in my household. Moving in with them, I'll be second or even third in 'rank'.

I just don't know if I can be happy in a combined household. But I love him. And for that, I'm willing to try it.