Thanks I totally relate. I'm going through denial today. I "know" I can't be DID because today I didn't lose time. Today it was really quiet in my head. I didn't have an internal argument over what we're going to eat today. I made the decision on my own without a fight that we were going to have a bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries. I can't be DID because I don't have a story to tell. My so-called-abuse isn't THAT bad.

****may be triggering but I feel like I need to share what I remember to help me figure things out I dunno. it just feels right. ****

I'm planning on spanking my kids if I ever have any and if they do something spank worthy. Mom's always told me that she's made mistakes raising me and when I'm a parent I'm going to make mistakes too and that she hopes I learn from hers. She's never abused me. Sure she used a belt but she didn't like hurting her hand on my bottom. She only went for my bottom she just had terrible aim and would hit the back of my legs too. From that I will never use a belt. One swat on the bottom then we'll sit down comfort the kid and explain why they were spanked. I felt like mom didn't give me enough comfort but I was smothering with wanting to be held every minute and mom would often stay up late with me rocking me back to sleep when I'd wake up in excruciating pain or from another nightmare. She did her best, I just needed more and she couldn't give me more cause she gave me all she had.

I was about 4 when I made up my first imaginary friend I remember. His name is Rocky and he's still around even today but he's just that an imaginary friend that I hold on to to help me deal with life. He's the one I can talk to about anything. He's a little ninja about 2 feet high. He actually came to me from watching The 3 Ninjas with my cousin. It was that movie that got me interested in martial arts as a kid. I never took lessons but I knew how to copy what I saw on TV and it was actually enough to save me a few times from bullies at school.

My dad's never raised his hand to me just would send me to the corner on time out. Sure I always thought I was going to starve to death when I was at his house but who wouldn't with him eating a big bowl of ice cream and only letting you have a spoonful. He always gave us supper if we were there that late. That's not abuse. He never wanted to be a father he barely survived being a husband. He's currently on his third-wife but he's been married to her for about 15 years maybe more I don't remember since we only talk about once ever three years or so now. He's finally learning.

My brother Ken tried to kill me and my brother Rob but mostly Rob and our mom. He was jealous because Rob was quiet and sneaky and never got in trouble. He was jealous of me because I was a girl and the youngest but he rarely took his anger out on me. He was removed from the home when I was 3 and he was 12. He had molested me but I don't remember it and the way mom describes it now compared to how she described it years ago sounds like it really wasn't a molestation at all that she caught him doing to me. About two or three years ago he moved here because his wife left him and he needed help with his daughters. That first day he moved here we were playing in the McDonald's play area with the girls and he caught me in one of the tubes that opened up into a padded room. He kissed me on the lips in there. I was shocked by it and didn't do anything. I didn't tell anyone hoping it'd just be a one time thing. He was fine for a while then he had to let the girls go back to their mom and he fell apart. He couldn't pay the propane on his house and it was winter so he stayed with us a few weeks. Nearly everyday he would follow me around the house like a lost puppy. He made me sit on his lap and would rub my back. He even asked me what bra-size I am. He would kiss my neck and carry me around. He would keep trying to get me to lay down with him and I would do everything I could . . . except actually come out and say the simple word of "no". I was too scared that it would make him mad. One day dad (I call my step-dad "dad" now or Abba or Da just for clarification) came home and caught him carrying me in the kitchen trying to get me into one of the bedrooms and me trying to get away. (I'm 5'5" and was about 100 lbs at the time he's 6'2" plus I was scared of saying no to him but knew he couldn't do anything if I was in plain sight) Dad yelled "THAT's ENOUGH!". I felt so guilty. I should've put a stop to it but I didn't know how. Later that night dad sat with me and held me in his arms and told me that Ken blames me. He also said he would talk to mom and make sure I'm never alone with Ken. He asked me what happened and how long this has been going on. He asked me all sorts of questions. All I could do was cry. I'm not an emotional person but I knew better. I knew I should have gone to dad first. I knew what Ken was doing but at the same time I thought I was just being paranoid because of my past experiences with men in general. I tried talking to mom before but she always brushed it off. She would never listen because Ken is her son and she loves him and always will. I don't want to take that bond from them but love is blind. After that it has been I dunno how long I'm just now starting to be okay about being in the same room as Ken as long as other people are around. I used to completely avoid him at church. He had always tried so hard to mend our broken relationship. But he has so much confusion in regards to sex. I wish he'd get professional help. I worry for his daughters, I truly do. I don't trust their mom with them either though. Every time they come back from their moms they've learned new things about their bodies that most five and four year olds don't know. I dunno I just wish we could have custody where I know they're safe. I hate divorces.

Rob molested me from the time I was 7 until I was 13. It ended when he was 17. He had told mom and our step-dad what he had done and it was him that sat with me first and explained to me why what he had done was wrong and that he was so sorry for it. It was from the ministers in our congregation that I learned what sex was and why brothers and sisters should never have that kind of relationship. I still remember feeling so hurt the first time he refused to let me manipulate him. He had said firmly "no! We can't do this anymore." It was that night he sat down with me and told me that he had talked to our parents and the ministers about what we were doing and they're going to want to talk to me. I felt like he hated me. I thought I was in trouble and had done something wrong. I was so scared that he would never talk to me again. It was with the help and support of our church and parents and the fact that it was Rob himself that had come to the realization that it was wrong and he was at fault. I don't blame him still though. I forgive him for what he did but it's not completely his fault. It's not even completely my fault. I place the most blame on our mom. That first day that he showed me his penis I had told mom. She brushed it off as me lying. I was a habitual liar at the time but was over petty stuff to get out of what I perceived as trouble. Always got in trouble for lying though on top of what I was trying to hide. If a kid ever comes to you saying that something like this happened, listen to them, believe them. I bare emotional scars because of not being believed. Mom said "No, you didn't see his penis." I insisted I did. She asked me to draw it and I did. I remember trying to remember exactly what it looked like because I didn't stare or look long or anything I had left the room immediately finding mom in the kitchen. I remember even verbalizing while I was drawing that it was wrinkly. She snapped saying "no, no. You didn't see anything don't you dare lie to me." then sent me to my room and wasn't allowed to come out until she sent for me. I didn't get to leave it till the next morning. After that I had never trusted mom with anything. I even have in my diary from that time saying "mom I hate you stop reading this, this is my book not yours go away and stay out." after that everything I wrote was so miserable and spiteful. And mom never heeded that warning and would say stuff like "why don't you write about good things in your diary?" grr. I know I probably would read my kids things too, but the difference is I would ask them to share with me what they would like and not just go through it arbitrarily. Also I would never criticize their thoughts the way my mom did. Rob and I now have a very good relationship. We started to have a rocky time again a couple years ago but that has nothing to do with molestation or anything abusive. More of just him going through a lot of changes with finding out he's aspergers and not bi-polar or possibly both, then me having my meltdown with work. But we're good again and I'm still the only one in the family that truly understands him. We still have our fights but it's just difference in opinions and we always work it out. I attribute our relationship today to his maturity and responsibility he had taken when he was seventeen. Even today he'll occassionally bring up the past. It still bothers him. All I can do anymore is tell him "Rob, you are my brother. I love you. What you did was in the past and you've been forgiven. Lets work on staying close now." I really do love my brother as much as he irritates me and gets on my nerves and at times I absolutely cannot be near him without wanting to cause him bodily harm. lol That's why I rule out the molesting as being abusive. That's what outweighs the nights of him being so angry and yelling and pounding his fists into walls and throwing away all my video games.

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I don't see how any of those few bad things I went through is abnormal. I don't see how any of that is abusive or traumatic well except for mom destroying my faith and trust in her. I don't think I could possibly have DID because of it. I have a very strong imagination maybe I just am imagining things that aren't really happening?

@ WP thank you so much {hugs} I feel like I'll never know what "my truth" is. I'm not brave or strong or anything special. That's why it's so much easier for me to continue to keep things to myself when talking to friends online. The only place in all of the internet world that I'm 100% honest to the best of my knowledge is here on PC. I'm so scared of being hurt. PC's the only place where I feel like I might not like what people say, but they can't hurt me. Everyone here has their own "truth" their own story their own lives. And everyone here seems so honest with me and supportive and truly caring.

@ everyone else thanks for the hugs and thoughts.