This big blank space, what shall it say? I hear no silence inside. Cries from deep and screams from the screamer. Gut wrenching screams from a place that I cannot go. Cold, inside and out. Cannot warm up.

Chills echoing through the mind of one, one crying. No age--no name--just one. The screamer scares the one without warning She comes and goes but not without reason.

Others may not know but she knows but with no words, how does one tell? With no emotion how does one show? Just screams from the screamer and cries from the nameless one. And you look at me for answers I cannot give you, but it is there and I cannot get away.

One says it will be okay but will it really--I ask? Those on the other side of the mind would be able to answer that way but I do not. Where do words come from? I cannot hear between screams. The lady's gone--we cannot find her. I realize this may not seem important to you--maybe it is not important at all.

The screams come from a deep darkness. It cries from within but I do not know how to answer, or if there are any answers. I search outside to in but find nothing. Is this part of who I am? What a question, of course, who else is it a part of? I hear the voices and I listen to them. They come from within--I think.

This inside world scares me but so does this outside world. I fight to stay in touch with the real world--but what is the real world? At times it is safer inside than out here in this world everyone is in. But sometimes it is not.

To stay out of my mind at times is impossible--to stay connected is not possible. At times sanity and insanity is so close--the pull is inseparable. Sometimes it is much stronger than I am. I hear their every thought, their every hurt, their every fear.

I see what their eyes see and I feel what their hearts feel. And though they are me--they are separate. At times so separate that it is like they are their own person telling me what happened and me trying to accept each experience as my own--tears another piece of my heart away.

Trying to be one is not an easy thing. Sometimes it feels safe to be locked in the mind where no-one can hurt me. My mind is where I lived for so long. It was the only place safety dwelt--as it feels right now. It was the only place I could find me--myself. It gave me a right to live.

And even now, sometimes living inside keeps me going--keeps me safe. Sometimes it gives me a reason to keep going. In my mind is where I began to live. I could not live outside--there was no safety, no where to be.

Me did not exist not then--and maybe not now. I am trying to figure out who I am. I am not convinced it is safe out here yet. Not yet. Not when dads call, moms still exist, and darkness still comes.

1. Breath (in and out slowly)
2. Feet on the floor.
3. Look around the room (see familiar things--know where I am)
4. Notice the feel of the pen in my hands.
5. Notice the feel of the floor under my feet.
6. Feel the seat under me.
7. Keep breathing (in and out slowly)
8. Look at the calendar and know it is 2008 (present time)
9. Hold sabby's pillow--know she cares.
10. Notice colors--pink journal, green folder, pink hat, pink /purple secrets box.
11. Take a drink of soda.
12. Smell my lotion.
13. Stay in the moment (even if it is second by second)
14. Keep breathing (in and out slowly)

There is an internal fear--a gut feeling not just a head feeling. It comes from deep inside. From a place I do not feel familiar with. This deep darkness cries out from within but I do not know how to answer, or if there are any answers. I find myself searching from the outside inward finding nothing.

Can this darkness be something that is part of who I am? I do not have an answer. I do not know how to look at you or anyone and tell what is wrong. Everyday, I feel this heaviness, this Knawing at my insides. It's like I am not good enough. It is like I know--I do know.

Sometimes it is like looking at a beat up house that you want to fix up but everywhere you look it is beat up and fallen apart. I feel beat up.You cannot see it on the outside but inside it is a shambles. Depression has me in its grips and I am swallowed by it all, and unable to get out.

It is like a deep dark hole and I am falling inside and there is nothing to reach out to latch on to to stop the falling. Even when the suns out--it is black. Inside

At times it is like a whirlwind that never stops blowing. I feel tossed from here to there. I do not want to disappoint anyone.

Sometimes I am asked if I am safe. To answer your question, I look deep inside. And I ask myself, "safe from what?" Will I kill myself--at this time probably not but sometimes it gets so dark that what is killing yourself?

I try so hard to to hold on, to be okay, to hide from everyone what is happening within, but the truth is I am not okay. Is this something that is a part of me? I do not know. Yet this darkness looms over my heart--one I cannot seems to remove.

It is sometimes like it is hiding something from my eyes. But what I ask myself? From exposing everything to someone. Thinking if I bring out just bits and pieces it will just go away? At times there is as an utter silence. I sometimes can go for days without uttering a spoken word except for inside my head.

I hear the voices and I listen. From whimpers and cries to screams and terror. It is all there--inside. I fight some days to keep my sanity. To stay in touch with the real world. To stay out of my mind some days is not possible. To stay connected is not possible. To keep contained is not possible.

I am not trying to re-traumatize myself but there are times, even times in therapy, that the pull between sanity and insanity is so close, it is hard to stay focused. You do not know the struggle to stay present and you cannot see the pull I feel.

Sometimes it is much stronger than I am. Sometimes I can hardly hold on. What scares me so much, is what if sometime I do lose control and cannot stop myself? I do not want to but I sometimes feel such a pull. My heart is being pulled apart at times trying to stay grounded and be okay. No one listens to the inside more than I do.

1. Breath (in and out slowly)
2. Feet on the floor.
3. Look around the room (see the familiar things--know where you are--sabby's house)
4. Notice the feel of the pen in my hand.
5. Notice the feel of the floor under my feet.
6. Feel the chair under me.
7. Keep breathing (in and out slowly)
8. Look at the calendar and see it is 2008 in April.
9. Hold sabby's pillow--know she cares.
10.Notice colors pink journal, black computer, purple purse)
11.Take a drink of soda.
12.Smell lotion and feel the coolness of it.
13.Stay in the moment--second by second for now.
14.Keep breathing (in and out slowly)

I hear their every thought, their every hurt, their every fear. I see what their eyes allow me to see and I feel their hearts pound within my own. And though they are me--they are separate. At times so separate that it is like they are their own person telling me what happened and trying to accept each experience as my own--tearing another piece of my heart away.

Trying to be one person amongst so many is not easy. They had their own ways of dealing that I do not know. Accepting that is foreign to me and makes me sick much like accepting a foreign germ in your body that makes you ill.

I may not get literally sick, scream, or react while I am in the presence of others, but when I am alone--I get sick. I scream in my car, I react, and many times retreat into a childlike state, when no one can hurt me or judge me.

And accepting their being is even scarier. But it is real, even though I cannot explain it, it is real. Sometimes it feels safe to be locked in my mind where no one can hurt me. No one can tell me I am allowing satan in, or anyone in. No one can take my writing--my only ability to get it out.

My mind is where I lived for so long. It was the only place that safety dwelt. It was the only place that made any sense. It was the only place I could find myself otherwise I would have died. I do not know why I survived. I do not know how all I survived. But I did.

1. Breath (in and out slowly)
2. Feet on the floor flat.
3. Feel the floor under your feet.
4. Feel the chair and the hardness of it.
5. Look around the room--remember where you are.
6. Feel the pen in my hand.
7. Keep breathing (in and out slowing)
8. Look at the calendar and know it is April 2008 (see Kim on the calendar.)She is in the present.
9. Hold sabby's pillow (she is in present time--she cares very much)
10. Notice colors (blue shirt, green shirt, colored container by the bed)
11. Take another drink of soda.
12. Notice Heart hanging on the wall.
13. Take a moment, one second at a time.
14. Keep breathing (in and out slowly)

Things really happened--and I really split to make it. I do not think I am trying to convince you as I am trying to tell it to myself. And even now, sometimes living inside keeps me going--keeps me somehow safe. Keeps me from really knowing if anyone really hurts me or hits me. Whatever. I do not know where that came from.

I do not know if this made any sense. I do not know if I said what I needed to say. But I felt I had to try to explain what it is like for me--for all of me each day. And not just for me but for all the others within . They find it hard to function.

They a lot of times, do not realize they are not separate. It is their body. It is their thoughts. And until they are ready to tell me--I do not know their stories. I do not recall all the whys that I left or exactly when except I remember I could not breath and I was gone.

Someone had to have stepped in or we would not be here now. Emotions, feelings, held so tightly inside I cannot breath. Thoughts, memories, startling flashes--hands, faces--all babbling for attention in my mind. Random and unwanted--a dance of great pain.

The searching sounds--screeching of a million words in the wind--silent yet screaming. Can you hear it? Messages, like silent voices, the kind that drive you insane as you strain to hear, screaming to the furthest reaches of my brain.

Messages that repeat over and over like a broken record that no one hears except me. Messages, fragments of thought, pieces of memories floating like razors. Sharp-edged pieces of information, cutting into my emotional fabric.

I cannot avoid them for they are everywhere, in everything,but to touch them is to feel the pain and the loss of each part of myself. A constant struggle, the overwhelming need to be heard, the petrifying fear that no one is there to hear or care or want to be.

It feels like one part is fighting for life, to be strong and hold on to that chance to beat the evil ones at what they did, one part is fighting to understand but how can we understand when our minds are not capable to go there, another part is searching for love--does it ever really exist?, and another part hears echoes of death as so many times it was so real.

I feel a million miles away, yet words keep coming. I am crying and screaming the silent scream--but who hears this awful silence but me. I do not know happiness but a glimpse. Only quietly shedding tears, at times invisible like the wind, at times like a raging river.

Secret world. Silent screams that will never be heard outside a world of silenced long ago. This silent cry heard within the confines of my mind--crushed beneath this wall of silence that only I can hear, yet filled with shattering screams throughout my being but silence as inside rocks with (Laura,7)............

1. Breath (in and out slowly)
2. Feel the chair I am sitting on.
3, Feel both feet on the floor.
4. Feel the key board under my hands.
5. Take a drink of soda.
6. Hold on to sabby's pillow. (She loves you--hold on to that).
7. Breath (in and out slowly)
8. Look around and see familiar things--the t.v., love-seat (where I have indented my permanent butt print, the grandfather clock)
9. Feel the fan.
10. Notice the pictures on the wall.
11. Notice colors--blue love-seat, green chair, mourroon curtains, the colorful boat picture on the wall)
12. Remember it is 2008 (45 years later) (present time)
13. Take one moment--one second at a time. (jumping too far ahead brings anxiety and fear--staying back is fear and re-trauma)
14. Keep breathing (in and out slowly)

Somewhere in this was the beginning. Someplace in all this is where I lost my ability to use my head as it was all messed up. It was a very smart little girl to devise such a plan to survive as amultiple.

But now we are trying to find our way back, to make ourself come into one. To strive to live together separately but as one. It is very hard to do as we take step by step, one day, one minute, by one second if we have to.

And not looking too far ahead into the present for that creates anxiety and fear. And not looking into the past for too long--for it is only a reflection not of now.

Sorry this is so long.. I needed to write. I hope this may help someone who may not know the words to say, or who may feel the same way I do. I sure could use some encouraging words and help in how some of you are dealing with staying grounded and present when working on a memory. The trauma is too hard to put ones self back through. Thank you.

xoxoxo
cami