Just tthe way I am.

Just the way I am.
(written several years ago)

For most of the first 20 years of my life I was abuse, by not just one, but many men. And at times my mother too, No one listened, it wasn’t believed to be the thing that people would do to anyone, let alone a child.

So I was left to find my own way of coping and getting through each event as it happened, I didn’t know back then how I was doing it, but I was, I often didn’t remember what had happened, just know from the pain and discomfort I felt that something had happened. I didn’t care either, as long as I didn’t have to remember, it didn’t matter to me. Little did I know that I had found an amazing way of coping, all those so called imaginary friends I had in my head, weren’t that at all, they were real! To me it just seemed that every now and then a new voice would appear in my head. And that was fine by me, it was some one else to listen too. Who didn’t hit or shout at me.

So when I wanted to or needed to, I would just disappear, Day-dreaming they called it. I just wasn’t aware of anything. And that was ok, if I didn’t know I was lonely or being hurt it didn’t feel bad. It couldn’t feel bad.

I was told constantly to ignore what I heard in my head. And in the end I thought they were all right, that I was just holding on to childhood imaginary friends. So I tried to ignore them. For many years I would not listen to them, I got so good at it that eventually I could hardly hear them, Some days I would find I had self harmed. But I wouldn’t remember doing it, So how could It be attention seeking if I didn’t know I was doing it? They just said I didn’t want to remember. Yet I spent so long wishing I could, then at least I would know why I had done it.

Time just seemed to disappear. It would be 6pm and in what seemed like the blink of an eye it was 8 or 9pm. I used to think I must have just been so tired, I had fallen asleep.

But then there was the phone bill. Calls were being made, to whom? I didn’t know where half of those places were let along know any one who lived there. Cups of drink on my table, things like squash? I hate squash. Pictures I hadn’t drawn, a child’s writing and drawings? But I’m a grown woman. Where did they come from? I would sit at my computer intending to type up some poems, suddenly it would be hours later, and there in front of me was a poem I hadn’t written.

I used to feel so confused, and scared by it all. Who was moving my things? Who was drawing and writing? And who was making phone calls? I thought I had been asleep one day when the police turned up, asking me about a child? What child? I have no children? But apparently a child had called some one from my phone. An all I could do was say sorry.

Then, a few weeks later they turn up again, same thing, a child calling some one from my phone? And then there was this call same time every week to the same place, but I thought I was sleeping? So I called the number, I found out that a 14 year old had been calling them, but how could that be? I was the only one with access to my phone. I was told she was part of me, one of the voices inside my head? But they were just my imagination? No! It was explained to me, they were part of me. They were real! I wasn’t imagining them after all.

Now I had to learn to listen to them again. I kept a journal where I could ask things, like what was their name, and how strange it was to see things being written back, that I hadn’t written, not even in my hand writing. It was so confusing, it was hard to under stand, yes I had voices in my head but others out side of me could hear and speak to them too? I slowly leant to talk to them, to listen to them, I found out that at that time I had over 15 different voice, (over 50 now) but they are not just voices, they are personalities, different sides of me, so to speak, and they varied in ages, from the youngest who is 1 and a half years old to the eldest besides me at 29 years old. And after a year of getting to know them, I suddenly had a family, I had friends who cared about me, I was not able to care about me, I felt so guilty about my abuse, some of them even blamed me. Because I let them be abuse? They hurt me because in there eyes I hurt them. But in learning to love and care for them I was learning to love and care for me.

I learnt that when ever I was hurt, scared or face a situation I couldn’t deal with, I unknowingly created a person to deal with it for me; To protect me from being hurt? I didn’t know I was doing it; I could never have managed it if I had tried. I wouldn’t have had a clue how to. They had helped me when I needed it most, and now it is my turn,

We had to learn to work together; we had to set ground rules, just like you would within a family. I had to keep the younger personalities from taking medication of any kind, just like you would a child. And in return they get time to be who they are, children, and they get to play and have fun. Something I hardly ever got to do.

This has given me some advantages and created some disadvantages. When I have had enough, when I can’t take the memories any more, I can disopear. When some one says or does something that makes me feel uncomfortable, some one else can come and deal with it for me. It is hard however, not knowing what is going on all the time, knowing I have put something in one place and finding it in another, And its kind of annoying to make some food and then not get to eat it, especially if it’s the nice foods, its funny how I always end up eating the vegetables, but never the strawberries. If I’m with other people and I’ve lost the thread of what’s going on, then it means someone has been out, I then worry about what may have been said, and I’m always scared that I might find myself in the middle of nowhere surrounded by strangers.

Some how as I child I found a wonderful way of coping with the abuse and abusive life style, for those I have inside, I have the greatest respect, I know I created them, but without them I would not be here today. I am proud of who and what I am. For some reason I was given a gift to help me survive. And all I know is that the brain is an amazing thing, learning to live with what I have has been hard, so many people don’t try to understand, or are too scared. And all I want is for people to except me, But most of all, them for whom and what they are. Amazing, individual, wonderful parts of me!