History of Us

I was born in 91, in the metropolis known as Phoenix, AZ. Now though I was born female, my father was never pleased with this, he wanted a boy after all. I was mostly left with my grandparents, but to be honest I think they where more parents to me then my own.
My mother and father both worked for a hospital, my dad was a Registered Nurse and my mother was an X-Ray Technologist. They both worked a lot, and where rarely home as well.

I very much was a Tom Boy though, despite everything playing in the mud and dinosaurs where just more my thing then dolls and dressing up. I was placed in pre-school when I was 2, but was sadly quickly kicked out due to another child taking my toy, I said ‘hey that’s mine’ and the kid said ‘bite me’. So, I bit them. My grandmother told me that she thought it was the funniest thing on the planet because I was doing as I was told, and I got punished for it.
I believe my first Alter, Una came around between 2 and 6, all I remember is one day her voice was sweet, gentle and she simply smiled and said, ‘Hello, I am Una, and you will never be by yourself again.”
When I was 5, my younger brother was born in 95’. He was so small and cute, I always wanted a sibling, so it was one of the happier days. I was in Kindergarten then, I was a left handed child, so when we where drawing, no one wanted to sit with me due to me bumping into there arms. My teacher tried everything she could, including slapping my hand and switching the crayon from one hand to the other, but it didn’t fix anything. My grandparents where the ones who ended up going to the principle and complaining about the bruises on my hands, not my own parents.

My father’s drinking mixed with his new addiction to Demerol began to escalate. When he’d get home, the pain on the walls would peel off when he screamed. He ran into the walls and caused pictures and other things to fall off the wall and break. My brother was 2 when he first started coming into my room once we both heard him slam the door, he would lay in my lap, and my hands would be over his as he plugged his ears. The screaming of both our parents was hard for him, and I had to do whatever I could to help him.
Xero came around about this time, he would sigh and kneel down, patting my head and saying “It’s okay to be afraid and sad.”
When I was 9 or 10 and my brother was 5 or 6, my father began to become physically abusive. Now, he was drunk and high, and what he saw as punishment crossed well into the lines of abuse. He’d use hangers, belts, pick us up and pin us by our necks, slap/hit us with his hands, etc. He took a bar of soap and almost suffocated my brother with it, if it wasn’t for me redirecting his attention, my brother would of lost his life that day.
Alice appeared shortly after, she can’t speak, but she would smile and just like that through herself in front of the blows, like fists hitting water.
My mother was never once hit by my father, instead she was just verbally and mentally attacked. In order to combat this, she drank to the point she didn’t even seem to care what was happening around her, just sat in front of the TV, watching whatever was on.

I was 11 when my father was finally kicked out of my house. Everything was slightly chaotic for a while, but eventually, things evened out. I didn’t really have friends, after all for me I didn’t need them since I had my ‘imaginary friends’. But 5th grade is when the bullying started, I went to a rich kid packed school. Once it got out my parents where split up and never married, they basically tried to use whatever they could to try and get under my skin. It wasn’t working, so I was fine… at least until the day the queen bully stepped up. She walked up to me and smiled, saying “At least my parents are married unlike yours.” Now I was slightly annoyed with this comment, but I let it be, got up, and moved. She followed, and then decided to say “And at least my parents aren’t arrested and criminals.”
My father was arrested multiple times for starting fights, and my mother always bailed him out. For some reason, this comment just triggered something inside of me, I felt like I was going to explode until suddenly Emily came forward and hugged me.
According to my teacher, I tackled this girl and began to lift her up and down, beating her into the ground, screaming something about how even with a broken family we still managed to keep going.

I was not punished for this, my teacher claimed the girl started the fight, and she was suspended. It didn’t take long for everyone to realize I was the new play thing, however. I was pushed down hills, cornered and beaten down, whipped with wire they found out in the school yard, had battery acid poured onto my hands… Alice took it all, as the others just stood there and comforted me. Humans where evil creatures, or so I began to believe, and they don’t deserve to be alive.
When I entered middle school, it just continued. My mother finally had enough of me lying and took me to see a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner. I didn’t speak once, my mom said how I was depressed and hurting myself or getting bullied, one of the two. 10 minutes is all it took for her to throw up the insult that I had Bi-Polar Disorder 1, Schizophrenia, and Psychosis.
Within 24 hours, I was 13 and on Abilify 50 mg, and Limicatal 200mg. Let me just say right now, the rest of my memories are not really mine… This is stuff I learned through my family, my spouse, and my alters themselves.

The medications began to make things… worse. Emily was coming out and attacking everyone she possibly could, Una and Xero both began to have problems communicating with me, and Alice couldn’t seem to stay out as long as I needed her too. Pain is a terrible thing, it shocks your system, causing you to feel a needle like sensation trickle up and down your spine and then suddenly jabs a knife into your gut.
My freshmen year of high school, Khala was born. She was much girlish then I was, bright colors, normal jeans, painted nails, makeup and I was the one in all black, with chains and five million bracelets.
She was the reason I began dating, she would only have a guy around for about 3 weeks tops, getting them to buy her things, then drop them or make them drop her in a sense. Then she would say “Here! I got this all for you, now smile.”
They began to up my meds, I was on 150mg of Abilify, 400mg of Limicatal and 50mg of Lexapro. However, I was no longer able to stay awake, so they added Provigil, 200mg to try and counter act that, it didn’t help. I went from 125 pounds to 298.4 pounds in less then a year, and began to lose complete and total control to the point I no longer knew who I was most of the time.
I met my husband that year though, Myspace was the social media site. He commented on one of my poems, and we began to talk. He was my best friend for almost a year, though he lived in Idaho and I lived in Arizona, we would talk not only on the phone, but online everyday. He asked me out in December 2005, and we have been together ever since. My mother took me to meet him in person when he invited me to prom, and that was the first and only prom I ever went too, but it was what what sealed the deal.

My husband moved down to Arizona my sophomore year of high school. He is 3 years and a week apart form me, and my mother loved him. I was still being attacked at school, and he use to tell me that he believed me, believed me about my alters and how all of these medications where making things worse; because he was the one who met all of them, and Emily use to try and kill him. He told me she tried to strangle, stab, and even tried to run him over with the car after I learned how to drive… but he never once backed down or was scared.
The day the wonderfully vile rich children took a butcher knife to my left shoulder was the last day of my semi normal life at that school. The moment it came down onto my shoulder, Emily pushed me out of control. From what I was told, I grabbed the nearest object within my reach, and beat the living tar out of them, then ran all the way home.
Despite the fact it was self defense and deemed so by the police, the school deemed I was ‘to dangerous’ to there donor’s kids… and I was sent to a reform school.
Before that however, I was arrested and charged by the state for threatening and intimidating and assault with a deadly weapon. Of couse my detainment didn’t go well… according to my mother, I was strapped down to a weird chair, then they had to sedate me, then I was forced to stay alone with no clothing in a cell because they thought I was going to kill myself.
I was released the next day after my mother told the judge he should be more afraid of an ant then me.

I was immediately placed on Zeprexa 10mg, and that’s when I began to cut myself to feel like I was still alive. All the medication I was on made me feel dead, unable to talk to my self or my alters, so every time I cut, I made sure I was bleeding and still alive. I accidently hospitalized myself once at 15 and again when I was 16 for almost bleeding out. Each time I went, no one believed me when I said I had ‘imaginary friends’. They told me I was a liar, or it was part of the psychosis, or I will grow out of it.
It wasn’t until I was 16 almost 17 my mother FINALLY took me to see a psychologist who took one look at my file and said, “Why the hell is she on all of this? Your daughter doesn’t have any of this…”
For the second time in my life, I found another human who believed me, and soon I was diagnosed with DiD. Using a functional MRI they found out I had DiD by forcing a switch, turns out Alice hates small spaces.
They attempted DBT and CBT therapies, but group therapy was a terrible plan, I ended up switched so many times I induced other behaviors in other patients. Alone I did much better.

I was 18 when I finally self unmediated with the help of my husband (boyfriend at the time). I lost almost 200 pounds in 2 months, dropping me to 190, which was fine with my height of 5/9 1/2″. As soon as I was able, I moved away from my mothers home, and though it was tough, it was the best thing I did.
I got married to my sweetheart in 2012, and even with my alters still active, he loves all of us. Now I have a new specialist, she is very kind, and seems to understand I am indeed to relent on my alters for safety and security. She is in the process of teaching us all how to co-exist… my husband is against this, and also was against me getting our dog registered and made into a service animal.
However, my dog has helped me keep my depression and anxiety down, he wakes me from my night terrors and nightmares, he makes sure my self harming doesn’t go to far (now I seem to have moved from cutting to tearing my fingers apart and picking at my legs).

But there you have it… the basics of Us. Some things I cannot really fill in due to the memories being locked away… but I figured what I know I should share.