NOTE: We are not a self-diagnosed system. We have been diagnosed twice.
Also note: the "original" host of this system - aka, the one who was born into the body and lived the childhood trauma, comitted "mental suicide" at a young age. They basically killed themselves on the inside.
This was them integrating - splitting up and melding with everyone else. Everyone gets a piece.
We all know what happened in the outer world's childhood. We just don't necessarily accept them as our own memories.
You should never ask a person - single or system - what their trauma is. You should never ask a system what caused their disorder.
We're willing to share part of it, because we don't want anyone getting the wrong idea or coming up with theories.
In childhood - the outside childhood - we experienced severe emotional trauma starting early on. This came due to an unstable home environment, a lack of control over life, not fully understanding why people kept disappearing ...
You see, DID forms when two parts of the brain just can't combine. Sort of. So if there's a bran section that loves someone, but a brain section who knows they've caused trauma, hurt or pain ... they can't combine.
We were lucky. We weren't physically or sexually abused. The emotional abuse was very rarely done on purpose. But it was lasting, scarring and caused the DID.
The DID was an escape. For a lot of people it forms because "If I was older, this wouldn't happen. If I had a sibling to protect me, I'd be fine. This wouldn't be happening if I was a girl/boy. This wouldn't happen if I was pretty/ugly." Then an alter can form, who fits that criteria, who takes the brunt of the trauma.
For us, the original child dove into fiction and media to escape to trauma. We latched onto ideas or feelings. Often, fictional characters from soaps or medical shows. Even as we grew up and had dozens of fragments, each fragment found a character to latch onto and become.
We will never reveal our true identities. We will admit that formant alters include Carl Kennedy from Neighbours, and Chandler Bing and Rachel Green from Friends. You will see in our "system groups" section. We also had Tom Baker's version of The Doctor for a while. You will not see this specific alter/alter era listed.
For most of our trauma, nobody is directly to blame. It's circumstantial. The traumatic circumstances we wished to escape caused the DID. Life made it worse.
Bullying made it worse. Kids who were nice one day and vicious the next. More and more alters formed to deal with them because none wanted to. By the time we were in secondary school, we had to have five different main fronters just to survive.
Childcare people also made it worse. We still have food related PTSD from one of them. From the other, alters who were around during time with her still have extreme trust issues.
Another huge traumatic experience for us when we were young was because we were expressing the symptoms of DID. We were bold, unashamed, and would tell people who we really were. We would tell people our real life stories. And instead of actually looking into it, we were deemed insane. Unstable. And screamed at into terror.
We had to pretend our DID was just a game of pretend. It damaged us. It only made our inner world more real, our inner lives stronger. Our inner stories defined us, because we refused to live on the outside.
We were so lucky with this disorder. Everything was emotional. Emotional abuse and trauma. A life of being shipped around like an unwanted rag doll, being taken care of by people who had no business looking after children, not being told anything, ever, living in fear and the dark.
One of us still has nightmares over something from childhood that we were told might happen and we had no say in. It didn't happen, but to try and deal with it, the entirety of The Musicals formed.
We were so scared, depressed, suicidal and confused all the time. And we were adults in the body of the child. Through reading books intended for adults from a young age, we even had the emotional depth, maturity and understanding of someone much older. But nobody would give us the time of day.
Everything our brain did to adapt, to grow up, to handle neglect, terror and trauma just made it all worse.
And the worst part is nobody did it on purpose. It's just the way it was. Bad circumstances, and decisions made by adults resulting in negative things that would traumatise the child.
Sometimes we feel guilty that we didn't experience physical or sexual abuse. At least then, we'd be on par with other systems. Maybe we'd be less likely to be seen as invalid.
The internet is full of gatekeepers. If your trauma wasn't "bad" enough to their standards, you must be faking. If your DID doesn't present in a certain way, you're faking. If your inner world is too vivid, you're faking. If it's not vivid enough, you're faking.
No fictives/factives? Faking. All fictives/factives? Faking. Only two alters? Faking. Hundreds of alters? Faking.
The list goes on.
That's why we're sharing our trauma. To let people know we know it's not as "bad" as that of others. But trauma and pain are subjective. What hurts you is nothing to someone else. What scars you for life is just a bad day for someone else.
It all boils down to this:
You're trapped in a life that isn't going the way you want it to. The people who love you hurt you, and you can't tell them because they're not going to listen to you. A child. You're terrified all the time. You don't know what's going to happen the next day. Who's going to be there to take you home? What new stranger will you have to get used to, when all you do is fear them?
In the morning, you don't know who you're going to see that evening. The people you go to sleep with might not be there the next morning. And when they are there, they tell you that they want to die.
You want to die too. You can't die. So you want to escape ... and someone comes to take the pain away. Someone in your head. But they can't help you. Everything gets worse.
You have to pretend to be happy, on the outside. This hurts you even more. Everything you do makes your growing disorder worse. You wish you could be normal, that wish makes your disorder worse.
That is our trauma. Now kindly, fuck off, you nosy cunt, before you ask.