Wednesday, June 30, 2010

It Was Never Truly Over - Part 1

I feel like I have so much to say but I don't even know where to begin. There is so much I feel I need to share but there is so much background that needs to be covered first. My anxiety usually doesn't get the best of me but I believe it is winning at this moment.

Lothlorien posed a question under my last post: "When you were diagnosed as Schizophrenic, did anyone ever ask you if the voices you were hearing seemed to come from inside your own head or outside?" Answer: I honestly don't remember very much after my sister was murdered. I will eventually write what happened shortly afterward to me but I don't feel it is appropriate just yet. I had a very good therapist at the time. She was there for me 24/7 and gave me the support I needed. I do not blame her for misdiagnosing me, but as I learn more about the differences between Schizophrenia and DID I start to wonder how she would have made that error. Unless of course I have an alter who is Schizophrenic and they could have been more dominant at that time since I was not. Just going off all of the medication has been a huge blessing in my life.

Just to warn you all - I plan to talk about my twin sister Ashlee quite a bit on this blog. She was such a huge part of my life and it really helps me to talk about her. I also need to warn you that I have many siblings - twenty-four (24) to be exact. I have 29 nieces and nephews and over 150 first cousins. I just hope things aren't confusing on your end!

**This may be triggering so please proceed with caution**

I'm going to start out simple and work my way out. At least, that is my plan. My biological mom met my biological father when she was 12 (he was 19). My b. father raped my mom and she had my older brother J at the age of 13. My biological grandfather forced my mom to marry my father. At 17 my mom had my sister and I, and two years later my father murdered her in our backyard. They never found her body.

When my brother J was 9 years old, he managed to escape our father and he ran away. Since my sister and I were barely 5 years old at the time so we didn't remember much about him and after a few years we had forgotten about him entirely. From the time we were born until the time we were rescued just after our 11th birthday, we were sexually, physically, verbally, and emotionally abused every day and night by our father, his friends and members of his cult. Ash was the only friend I had.

When my father was found, the swat team had surrounded our house. He had a gun in his hand aimed at himself, he was holding a knife in the other. The cops were trying to get us to come to them. Ash ran at them, trying to pull me along side her. My father stabbed her three times in the chest and then shot himself. I will never forget that sound.

We were in the hospital for a month because we were so sick and beaten. My biological grandmother took us in for the first few months - it was the first time we had ever met a family member. We didn't even know we had any family members besides our father. Our grandmother's sister went through all the necessary steps to adopt both my sister and I and we became apart of a huge family.

Little did we know that the abuse was far from over...

To be continued...

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

I Feel Fake-ish...

In therapy this morning my therapist talked about how my alters (still getting used to this word) will start to make themselves known to me. She already knows of three distinct ones all of which are named after fruit: Apple, Pear, and Plum. I should have entitled my blog “The Fruit Basket”.

While I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, I felt like I was trapped in this unknown world that encompassed my life. It didn’t always affect me but it was definitely always looming around close by. Now that I have a DID diagnosis, I kind of feel like I’m faking it. I’m not sure how one could fake DID 24/7 without someone catching them in a “normal” state. Nevertheless, I feel like I’m faking it all.

Maybe if I could just meet one of my alters - that word still sounds foreign to me; almost like it shouldn’t be a part of my vocabulary - it would help me to realize I’m not faking it or that my therapist isn’t feeding me a load of crap.

I know they are there, though, if that makes sense. I can feel a presence.

I’m going to spend the day with my one year old, Tey (Peyton). My four year old Kel (Brookelynne) is hanging with Grandma and some of her cousins.

Monday, June 28, 2010


I'm not sure how to start out so here it goes. On June 26, 2010 my diagnosis of Schizophrenia of almost 5 years was changed to a diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) also known as Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). My best friend Bee suggested that I start blogging about my new journey.

My twin sister Ash was murdered on February 10, 2005. I had a really hard time and still do have a hard time without her here. We were so incredibly close and we knew everything about each other. She was my best friend and growing up she was one of my only friends. A few days after she was murdered, I started to see her appearing to me, talking to me, comforting me. My aunt suggested I go to a counselor to talk about things, so I found one that I liked and started seeing him twice a week. About a month or two later, he diagnosed me as Schizophrenic. I basically thought my life was going to fall apart.

My biological father killed my biological mother when I was two years old. My father was in trouble with the government and he was constantly running from the FBI. From the time I was born until he killed himself when I was eleven, I had lived in all of the US states except for one, and about 7 - 8 different countries. My father was well known in the ritual abuse communities and he was famous for his experiments on twins. My sister and I were forced to be apart of many of these experiments - mostly involving severe physical and sexual abuse.

That is all I will post for now. I hope I find some comfort and answers by blogging about my life and by reading other survivor's blogs. It is comforting to know I am not alone, but it also brings me sorrow to know that other people had to go through similar horrors.