[BubblesHurt]

So... Apparently the main cause of DID is childhood trauma. That makes sense. With the life at home and the life at school... It can create a sort of split-personality. Sometimes I guess it breaks into even more personalities. Our alters.
I wasn't beaten. I just... I saw... Everything. I saw what no human being should see unless they were doing it themselves. Actually, most of them were things no one should ever see or do. I watched my father go on drunk rampages. I saw my father forcing my mother into sex. I saw him yelling. Always yelling... It never stopped. In the morning, he would always have a headache that made him grouchy. Throughout the day he had that fake smile, or he wrote and sang cruel songs about his "horrible" family, which was actually a great one. At night... Broken bottles. The terrifying sound of glass breaking on the floor. I would try to use my pillow to cover my ears. Shut my eyes, tell myself over and over again to go to sleep, before the bad things started happening... There was one night. My father was going out with some friends. He came home late. I heard the booming footsteps as he came inside our apartment. I tried to sleep. I heard my mother confront him for worrying her. He was two hours late. She thought he had been in an accident. She noticed the scent of alcohol from his breath when he replied, slurred and apologetic. But she confronted him further. "You're drunk. Go to bed." But she made him mad. He yelled. He hit her. He began knocking over things on the counters and shelves. Mom began to cry. She ran, grabbed the house phone. I heard her frantic footsteps as she raced down the hall, to my room. I pretended to be asleep. She scooped me up, ran to the bathroom. Locked the door. Called 911. After fifteen terrifying minutes of banging on the door, slurred yelling, we heard other noises. Sirens. The door opening. Yelling, but not my father's. And I still acted asleep. If my mother knew I was awake, it would kill her. Even a four-year old like I was knew that. And... Everything calmed down. The metal clicks of handcuffs. It ended. My mother put me to bed. She went to sleep herself, or at least tried to. I just stared at the ceiling. Trying not to cry.
That's... That's the first story. I'll... I'll talk to you guys tomorrow. When I don't feel like vomiting. I always left the part out, about my father getting drunk before the time when he was arrested, and especially the part about me being awake. So...
Bye.

[PurpleFlyingMonkeys]

Im sorry for all the abuse and disfunction throughout your childhood. Have you spent any time in the ACOA section? I have found it pretty helpful when it comes to my mom and dads substance abuse

[BubblesHurt]

I have, but reminders of my dad are a sort of trigger for one of my alters. And although I like her writing skills, I'm not fond of her people skills.