The last few days I've felt the need to share I guess my story. I've put a trigger on it, so please don't feel like you have to read it. I just need to say it. I've been in T for most of the last 8 years and 5 of those with the dx of MPD. Think I'm needing to say these things to know I'm real and my life is real. People who know me just a little ( just my outside life ) always joke and say my life could be a TV movie. If they only knew what was inside. That there are 23 of us living in this body. That the person they speak to on a daily basis isn't the one who was born in the body. My life could be a mini series. ( Laugh people that was a joke ) Ok so now I'm feeling somewhat safer in the forums I can let you all know my story. ( Ok grab a coke and chips feeling this will turn out to be long. I'm sorry, I know how hard it is to read long post sometimes. )

My life was normal until my parents were divorced when I was 4. This is when the trouble started. My mother met a guy down the street and started dating him. He started sexually abusing us right after they met. Most people can't remember the day that abuse first started. But we can. I hate Elvis! Can't stand anything to do with him. Songs, movies, pictures. Could never figure out why I hated him so much. But in T I found out that the day Elvis died was the first day our sexual abuse started. It went on from there. My mom married this loser. He got her wrapped up into sexually abusing us as well. I have many issues with my mother because of this fact. But my step-father went on from there and it was nothing to be physically abused for crying or laughing. At 6 I was raped for the first time by him. As time goes on abuse goes on. By 7 we had moved to another state and more abuse. My step-father had gotten us into a child pron ring. We were traded out to other men. This was a very hard time for us. We had to earn any food we ate by doing what our step-father wanted us to do. We were kept awake for days, straved, locked away for hours at a time and beaten. My mother finually escaped from him when we were 8. We lived with my grandparents. But it wasn't any better. My grandfather started sexually abusing us not long after we moved there. The first X-mas we lived there my step-father came to visit for the first time. He ended up stabbing my grandmother a few feet in front of me. I went on living with my grandparents for years after. I was a distrubbed child. I had many suicide attempts starting at the age of 10. But I would function at times. These were my pieces who cared for us then and did a wonderful job. I want to thank my pieces for keeping me, alive and safe. And to the sad and angery ones. Thank you for keeping those emotions for us. My grandfather died when we were 13, so that abuse stopped then. My alchololic grandmother held my sister and I hostage one night when I was 15. I haven't lived with my family since. We lived in mental hospitals and group homes till we were 17, this is when I moved in with my hubby and his family. My hubby saved my life back then, and gave me a chance to start a new life. OK so this is my story in a nut shell. Thank you just letting me tell everyone who we are. Monty and the pieces