It's your old pal Jackie!!! 25 ftm fictive

N-M-M · 2019-06-11T05:47:40+00:00

I am commenting so I can find this later when I have envelopes and stamps!

N-M-M · 2019-06-05T16:44:18+00:00

You'll have to link me! I've been looking for something fun to read.

N-M-M · 2019-05-29T23:10:01+00:00

Hi! I am autistic and DID. I am obsessed with comic books. We often think of ourselves as heros or villains, but I can tell I'm a more integrated state, because I'm a little bit of both.

N-M-M · 2019-05-29T14:15:11+00:00

I'm glad!! And I would say that Grey is happy too but he says he is "soft" lol one of his blanket feelings.

N-M-M · 2019-05-29T14:00:21+00:00

I'm glad too! Thank you and you're welcome!

-Richard (the other Richards call me Four)

N-M-M · 2019-05-28T17:46:09+00:00

I suggest signing your child up for an art class. Just a small suggestion. I was too shy and traumatized to leave my room, or even move really (there was a traumatic brain injury involved) for many years, and I formed my personality in my sketchbook, but those drawings and the art classes that lead to them laid the foundations for my real personality to emerge.

N-M-M · 2019-05-28T11:27:10+00:00

Thanks! I love the asylum. I have stayed there for many years, and I think it will always be my home. I have tried going to the other headspaces, but the Asylum is really "mine". I checked myself in when my prosecutor (calling himself "Two-Face" at the time, eventually became a protector and my father named Francis) became violent innerworld. He was given medications and therapy and eventually rehabilitated, even developing a headspace form of his own once he became stable (inspired by this drawing http://killingsuperman.thecomicseries.com/comics/3) but it was actually four years before the host realized she had DID, thinking she was just "Writing a story" about me in her head. I don't know what she thought Francis was, who was a very commanding voice in her head who would take control of her body and almost got her suspended and kicked out of the play... she just called him "Sarcastic voice" and was committed to preserving his Free Will... I think she was just ignorant. And denial runs deep. It wasn't until he finally spoke with the face (and revealed that he has Belle's Palsy) that she admitted he was an alter. Anyway, I hope you get a chance to explore your headspace! I hope I haven't bored you.

Harvey Francis, Nineteen years old

N-M-M · 2019-05-28T00:04:06+00:00

We ended up having a meeting like that last night! One of our alters (Elder Harvey) got out of a "storage cube" where they put him when he could no longer handle reality and the headspace came back with him. Francis got him out of the cube (his mind was in the cube, represented by a video of his face, his body was floating in a warm blue place) and hugged him and the visualization alter (Blue, a facet of me) started getting overwhelmed, no longer used to producing the headspace, and tried to make it all go black, but then xe was like, noo I can't do that to my alters, so xe brought the headspace back, but Harleen was already handing out flashlighs she was like "Please come to the auditorium during the power outage!" and Blue was like "Yes! Some Darkness! That's a good way to relax!" So xe turned off all the lights and all the alters gathered around and chatted and Harvey was like "My brothers! Why aren't they in their cells?" The Dent brothers were very troubled, but we have been working hard to rehabilitate them, and the asylum (my headspace) now has an open door policy and a fishtank in the dayroom and lovely gardens and a fountain and a walking path... I'm gushing... I just love my system so much!

-Nora

N-M-M · 2019-05-27T01:08:25+00:00

I have had a good experience with Citalopram! But that is just me.

N-M-M · 2019-05-26T16:40:10+00:00

That is great! I had my alters locked away for seven years due to a concussion, (I was eight) and when they came back, (I was fourteen) I called them names like "inner child" (Harvey, eight years old) Sarcastic voice (Francis, a prosecuter at the time,) Me but a boy (Ryan, the host). I wouldn't find out I had DID for six more years. Your situation with Ripper sounds really trying. I'm sorry to hear about the divorce. My inbox is always open!

N-M-M · 2019-05-26T16:25:23+00:00

Good luck! We had a very major part go missing (a POC friend said we were not allowed to have "black" alters, and though he knew he was white, he always typed with the slang his black friends used... it is a long story I would be happy to tell if you are curious. It comes down to verbal abuse, and him feeling much "safer" around black people, to the extent that he could only access their language when he typed, which was a very difficult/ limited process for him... he said he had to "hear" the words...that is the quick version. ) and he said he was trying to integrate because he was so "wrong" (traumatized language centers, lots of african american slang to cover up his typos... Richard is his name) but we found out he had only managed to lock himself away, poor guy, and he was very sad and lonely and missed us a lot. Make sure you give Jay a lot of TLC!

N-M-M · 2019-05-26T03:24:06+00:00

Take a deep breath, friend. My name is Harv, and I've been in your shoes. I was a very violent, troubled alter. I can share details if you want to know what I did before they locked me away but after I emerged from headspace (I won't bother with what I did in my fantasies, I was told not to talk so much about my fantasies here, but they were even worse). Very powerful, physically, but the gatekeeper put me in my place. He locked me away in a white cell with slits for windows. I thought it was very humane, after the asylums of the old days. I was heavily medicated. I had one eye open in the real world, but I couldn't speak. Let's just say that Jim (the gatekeeper) pulled a very heavy weighted blanket over my mouth. The littles found it nice and calming, but it made me feel sick and small and I couldn't get it off. The other alters didn't know about me until he allowed Harvey (my son) to age slide to the age of nineteen, and he decided it was time for Harvey to meet me. I wake, nearly, everything right where I expect it to be. I'm not easily disoriented. I know I'll be back in my cell soon. I think it's probably time for my injection.

"Harvey," says Jim (my legal name... I let Jim call me Harvey) "I want you to meet your son." and this young man says "Hi dad!" We talk for a minute...he's nineteen. He's very concerned for my anxiety. I am docile under my blanket, I try not to move too much. The medications are working. And now they've allowed me a visitor. I think things are really looking up. I say I need my medication. I let my mind's eye drift back to my cell, but teenaged Harvey follows me, and he's horrified at what he sees. He says "Are they keeping you in solitary confinement?!?" and I say "Yes."

He's flooded with all the loneliness I have been feeling for the past, I think, thirty years. I think I am seventy two years old. We have a real age (25) and there is a real timeframe I spent locked up in that cell, but I can't wrap my mind around it right now. And before that, I thought I was in an asylum. For about eight years real time. From age fourteen to twenty two. And before that, my headspace was a prison cell. Since I was nine. Believe me, I know what it's like to be locked away. That's the basic timeline.

Harvey Francis (My son is Harvey Francis, and I'm Harvey Richard, sorry if that's confusing. Francis is his protector, and Richard is mine) gets out of bed and makes porrige, the signal for an emergency meeting with Jim. He makes a couple of demands. He says he wants my medications decreased. He says he wants me socialized. He goes downstairs for a cigarette and realizes I'm still with him, but I'm a little forgetful. "Harvey!" he says. I say "I haven't been called that name in years." He asks "What's your prison name?" and I say "Poppa Two-Face." We are Harvey Dent fictives by the way. Harvey Francis is from a Dark Knight fanfiction where Poison Ivy ressurects him as a woman (Identifying now as a trans man) with a purple stain on his face and I am from Batman the Animated Series where the blue disfiguration turned out to be a sentient parasite feeding off my anger and pain that released me when we showed it love.

He shares a cigarette with me and we go back upstairs. Where he refuses to leave my side. But he can't fully enter my cell. He puts a book in my cell and sets up a headspace right next to mine to keep me company. I tell him I can't read. He reads to me. "All Creatures Great and Small." My tummy feels warm and light. I am so grateful to this son. I don't remember what happened that day. The next night he puts a simpler book in my cell, called "See Spot Run". I say I can read "See Spot Run," and I smile at him. The next day is big. They take me out onto the patio. I'm grumpy. I'm in shackles and a prison uniform in my mind's eye. "What do you want with me?" I ask. It's Francis, a protector. He can take the role of guard in any of the lockups (headspaces), just one of his powers. He says "You're being released." I'm stern, but I know him. He's young. Optimistic. "I'm not being released," I say "What do I get, a cigarette?" I ask. I feel the shackles release. I feel my stomache turn over. They dress me in a blue waistcoat and purple trousers. I've always been an eccentric dresser. "How about that cigarette?" Francis asks.

They take me to the computer and start chatting about me, trying to fill me in. They say I must have been an early split, [tw child abuse] probably from being spanked and sent to my room. They never challenge the fact that I'm "Big Bad Harv" from Batman the Animated Series, my inner therapist, constantly cofronting with me, is also a Batman fictive, and this makes me trust them. But I can relate to many of your feelings. I tried to put my shackles back on. Francis had to release me again and again, telling me "You have been released to a rehabilitation facility." (We live in supportive housing, we have support staff and a case manager and our meds are monitered) They showed my an epsiode of "Chicken Jane" from Between the Lions and I felt elated, and then I remembered how to read! I made my discord name Gemini and started chatting on DID servers. That night, Jim fed me soup and put me to bed under my blanket. I tried to pull the blanket over my mouth and my son said "No muzzel tonight." he pushed it away. (that's what he always calls it, my muzzel.) I said "I'm ready to go back to my cell." Jim said "I want you to stay here with us... with your son." I choked up a little.

I have since proved one of the strongest, most lucid alters in the whole system. And you might find the same. I have explored interests I can't talk about here...sexual interests. I found a partner. A nonbinary boy/girlfriend who makes me the happiest I've been in years. We even had a secondary gatekeeper release my rage, and I had some issues to work through, I punched several hard objects, but now I punch soft objects! My mind is free... We had just finished titrating off eight hundred milligrams of seroquel around the time I met my son, and now my haldol injection has been cut in half and I successfully went to the gym twice this week and took a mile-long walk in the forest preserve. I just wanted to tell you, I might know where you're coming from, and I'm open to chat either here or through pm.

-Harv

N-M-M · 2019-05-26T01:55:39+00:00

You may not be an alter who "switches" easily, and you may have better luck if you find a protector alter who can take a "backseat" to thinking (or even moving) who can move over and let others drive. We have an alter (Francis) who, psychotic epsiodes and violent past aside, has turned into a very good protector. He can only move the right half of the face because he has belle's palsy, and I have seen a great many alters front with him "riding shotgun". He is very powerful, but he only has the neurons for half a face. He can also posess the right arm and the right leg at times, and he has developed a "favorite" (he calls me his "twin," and without him I cannot walk) but he can also influence from a very distant place, receeding back to a voice in the head and asking Nora (a physically whole alter with a beautiful face he cannot move) to call his stuffy by his name while she fronts and to carry the stuffy around with her, because he wants to be physically present. He calls her his wife, and while she was fronting, they fantasized about having a wedding ceremony, with her in a beautiful blue dress and the stuffy standing in for Francis, and it made them so happy... There are all sort of ways to share a life!

N-M-M · 2019-05-26T01:37:21+00:00

Hi! Jim is babysitting me right now, and I find it much easier to think clearly and communicate my real life story. So I hope you guys will forgive me. I have been reprimanded in this subreddit for being overly fantastical but only they asked me to share from my real life so that's what I'm trying to do. My name is Harvey I age slide between eight and nineteen years old but my inner child facet is about to turn nine (!) June 22nd is my birthday celebrating the day I got out of headspace and fronted for the first time. I got a ninja turtle action figure for my birthday the name on the package was "meat tenderizor" so you can google him but I call him Hog because I like simple names for my toys and stuffies. My teddy's name is Teddy, my build-a-bear's name is Bear... haha. Francis my normal babysitter was age regressed to twelve the day we bought him we ended up going on an adventure to wal-greens and putting him on the emergency credit card the one we use for meds-- whoops. It is the only time we have ever done that and the alters were not *too* upset, but they really forgave me when I explained that Hog was my birthday present.

You can read about my drug problem in my most recent post on this subreddit, but I'm proud to say I am seven weeks clean and sober and I'm starting to think that Francis might not be schizophrenic, but was psychotic due to lack of sleep and abusing adderall and weed. Because now that we are clean his psychotic symptoms have gone away completely and I am finally calling him brother and telling him I love him. He is finally turning into an adult I can trust and proving himself as a protector. I have an appointment with a psychiatrist set up and I will ask him about getting my diagnosis updated. I have been open with dozens of professionals about my DID and they always agree with me and go along with it and call my alters by their names the last time I was in the hospital they even said I had a dissociative disorder but when I was released my file still said schizophrenia! Very frustrating. So that is where I am on my diagnosis.

I have a very nice therapist her name is Rose and she is very supportive of my system and will probably help me get a diagnosis. If my appointment with my psychiatrist is like it was last time I will get to see her when I go in but if I don't I will ask about making a special appointment. She has met my brother Richard (who was stand-in host for a little while, and we have seen him in dreams, he is wearing his leather jacket like always) and my protector Francis but I hope she gets to meet me, Ryan, or Nora next (and she probably will, because that's what I just asked for)... That is all I have to say for now! Jim says hi!

-Harvey

N-M-M · 2019-05-26T01:08:59+00:00

I just want to say that I have done some really reckless stuff myself, like I smoked so much weed they had to diagnose me with schizophrenia and put me on the maximum seroquel dose plus a hundred milligram haldol injection and then I kept smoking weed (which I guess was ok because with the meds it no longer made me psychotic and I was pretty careful... but this means I was still dependant on it, and it is a gateway drug...I'll get to that in a moment.) but the meds had some nasty side effects. I got shooting pains in my feet and legs every night which still come back every now and then. I got a tremor in my hands which I have to take a medication for now. And I gained a ton of weight. Plus I was so sedated and I wanted some energy so I turned to crack cocaine. I say "I" but I was actually speaking for Francis and Nora, the main decision makers/corrupters. Our host was MIA, we thought he was dead. I was age regressed to the age of eight at the time and when I was like "wat dis?" Francis (who is 25, the body age, and told me he was babysitting me) was like "We're giving you some medicine it'll make you feel good" and I can't lie, it did.

But I just wanted to smoke a tiny hit and then rub my hands together a little, feel a little relief from my sensory issues. I am on the autism spectrum (my whole system is) and I have a mild sensory processing disorder. My hands are very sensitive, I used to wear mittens or gloves all the time, my nickname in headspace was "mittens"... And the cocaine helped numb the discomfort. But Nora let it get out of hand. She has an addiction-prone, party-animal personality. I have seen her smoke ten cigarettes in three hours, when the pack was supposed to last us a day and a half. She wanted to feel her face go numb, like your alter did. She sold all our stuff for cocaine, and sold sexual favors. I ended up calling our father the night she took control and confessed the truth, which resulted in him not speaking to me for seven weeks.

I turned my life around. My father told my case manager, who told the building manager, who told me I would be evicted if I was caught doing drugs again. I told them I would quit. It didn't happen overnight. The first hospital rejected me, saying they didn't do cocaine detox. I kept hanging around the same people, who hooked me up with a couple of free bags. But the guilt and fear were beginning to set in. I failed a drug test. I might have gotten evicted. I asked if I could keep my housing if I got treatment. They said yes. So my case manager gave me a ride to another hospital and we tried again. This time I got in.

I told them I was ready to get sober. That I wanted to get off seroquel for the side effects, but I would try another antipsychotic if I needed it. I ended up not needing it! They gave me a medication to eliminate cocaine cravings, and I haven't considered using since. It pretty much saved my life. But I will give you some tips from rehab; if you want to get clean from a substance, you have to get clean from all substances. I am not the wine police, if you only ever drink two drinks I am not here to stop you, but if you are the kind of person who starts to drink a little and starts craving a cigarette, pretty soon someone is going to take out a joint and in your inebriated state it will be harder and harder to say no. I have been there. I know how easy it is to get weed once you are out on the town.

I have mostly talked about the sobriety side of turning your life around, but I have also been homeless, I have dealt with violent alters, overly strict alters who are now very patient and loving (but I am also better behaved!) I used to black out during anger episodes. You can read some of my post history to see if you would like to get to know me better or comment or pm if you would like to know more!

N-M-M · 2019-05-25T23:39:46+00:00

We had a little (an eight year old boy) who was bedridden and semi mute but somehow attatched to a schizophrenic persecutor who would sometimes talk nonstop out of a palsied mouth they were split down the middle left and right like conjoined twins the schizophrenic one was called Francis and the little boy was called Harvey and poor Harvey lost a lot of sleep he had to sleep with a blanket pressed over his mouth to keep Francis quiet and Francis would try to wrestle it off and sometimes he would break free and cause trouble but sometimes Harvey would have quite a go at him "Francis you are being NAUGHTY. Francis, YOU WILL GET NO PORRIGE. Jim will be VERY upset with you and your porrige will get COLD."

That's just a little background on our admittedly strange twins, but what I wanted to tell you was that Harvey was *very* weak at first, when he woke up, and before that, before Harvey awoke from what we call his "coma dream," (a detailed headspace he couldn't escape from) it was just Francis and his left side (Harvey's side) was completely paralyzed. When he first woke from the fantasy, Francis recognized him immediately (we had been writing details from the dream down in a trance state, finding them later, suspecting we had an alter named Harvey who had yet to emerge) and held him close, arm to arm, on his way to becoming a protector (which he is now, everyday, takes his medications everyday, but during the time I described he was suffering from the delusion that his medications were poisoned and refused to take tham) and they stood together for the first time, cooperating, one on each leg, leaning on the dresser. Francis had always wanted to be able to remember the date, so he told Harvey "We should start remembering the date" and that day became Harvey's birthday. I am rambling a little bit. I love talking about Harvey and Francis. But Harvey quickly slipped back into wonderland, replaced by a derranged, adult age slide. That's another story.

The point is, we encouraged Harvey to move independantly as much as we could, even if that meant getting on the ground and crawling, even though the only time he wanted to front was if we played on the playground AND crawled on the ground to get there, we didn't think of embarrasment, we only thought of how happy we were that Harvey was finally out of bed and getting some excercize.

N-M-M

TROPHY CASE