#-🧨//Will

[somepoetwannabe]

Jesus was into the whole Judas-getting-him-arrested thing. He was into the bratty behaviour. They don't tell you this, but they even had to use extra nails in Jesus's cruxifiction. Through the hands, feet, and dick tip

[somepoetwannabe]

You can't have symptoms without an issue.

You can't have alters, something caused by severe dissociation issues, without being disordered in some sort of way. The level of dissociation required to have alters would mean there is some sort of issue, and you'd likely meet the criteria for a CDD.

People who need wheelchairs have an issue with their legs. This isn't a fair comparison anyway. Wheelchairs are aids, alters are symptoms.

People sneezing have an issue with irritants blocking up their nose.

People coughing have an issue with their throat.

People who can't see clearly have issues with their eyes.

People with alters have an issue with dissociation. Severe dissociation.

Alters are not different people in one body. They're one person who has been through so much, they cannot possibly afford to see themself that way anymore. What an "alter" is, is an altered state of consciousness. This happens because the person is not able to cope with having one, constant stream of consciousness, since it has gotten used to dissociating and suppressing memories until it's ready to cope with them. Alters don't exist without OSDD/DID because you cannot have these altered states of consciousness without a CDD, because the reality is it is an abnormal way for the brain to behave and is a disorder.

I feel like its because endos don't understand what alters actually are that they come to these wild conclusions. They work under the assumption systems are more than one person in one body, as well as believe things like innerworlds are real places. No. Being fragmented doesn't mean there is more of you. It means the person you are has been broken apart because your brain didn't like the image the puzzle makes when all the pieces are together. Alters aren't people, they're pieces.

It isn't "people in your head" funky disorder. It's "you're missing core events of what should be your life because you feel distant from your own body and mind" disorder.

“you can’t have alters without DID!”

“you can’t use a wheelchair if your legs work!”

“you can’t sneeze without covid!”

“you can’t cough without strep throat!”

“you can’t have trouble seeing unless your blind!”

do you hear yourself

[ronanlynchbf]

[and-so-everything-changed]

this felt right

[somepoetwannabe]

We have alters who lean towards being pro-endo simply because of how much guilt-tripping that community does and it infuriates me every time I think about it

Every person that genuinely supports endos has to be a complete idiot incapable of critical thinking or doing an ounce of research, rage baiting, or just literally a child. Right? Like there's no way that people could actually believe that, right?

[batatoooooo]

Le Sacre 👑👑👑👑👑⭐️

[uzumaki-is-empty-head]

Please don't scare me like that

[reb-tard-ed]

It's haunting me. Help me God PLEASE HELP M e

[somepoetwannabe]

We are 14 years old, we have DID.

This is what our average day used to look like: wake up shaking, pull at your clothes to try cool yourself down. Must have had another nightmare. What about? What about? What about? What time is it? Look outside. It's going light. You'll have to get up for school soon. Lay back down. Try go back to sleep. But you're scared. You're scared. Don't go to sleep. Stay awake. Stare into nothing for a while, and before you know it that hour you had to rest has passed, it's time to get up. You're still shaking.

You take a shower to cool down, clean off, you were soaked in sweat. Don't look down. Keep your head forward. Don't look at your body. You know you won't like it. But it's tempting, so you do. This isn't me. Turn the shower off and step out. Get dressed. Sit in front of the mirror. Do your hair. Not mine. Not mine. This isn't me. Looking into the mirror isn't too different than looking at someone else, except you know that isn't how you're supposed to feel. This is wrong. Anyway, now you have to make choice. How do you do your hair? The usual? What is the usual? Who am I? What do I like? How do I do this? Who am I? Who am I?

.

You're in class. The person sat beside you is sat a little too close and it's unnerving but you can't do anything about it so you keep looking down at your book instead. You read over what you've wrote, you recognise the handwriting to be headmate X and so you use context clues to try piece together what happened between now and before. You always take the bus, and you know that, so you try remember what happened then. You look at your timetable and try to remember what happened in each class. You vaguely remember the bus ride, and first class, and that's it really. You try stay focused on finishing off whatever task you'd been assigned by the teacher.

.

It's loud. There's too much chatter. You look around and you're at a table of people you hate and at least two of them are talking to you about something you don't remember happening. Alright. It's lunch. You have food you don't like, half-eaten. You're pissed off. You don't want to talk to these friends. Not my friends. Not mine. You get up and walk out of the lunch room. A teacher tries stopping you, telling you off. You don't really pay much attention to her. You speed off from her and lose her once you get to the stairs. The bathrooms are locked at lunch, you know that. There's nowhere you can go. You're supposed to stay in the lunch room. But you don't want to go back. You're enjoying the peace and quiet of the empty school building. You know this feeling. Helplessness. It's familiar to you. Nothing bad is happening to you right now, you rationalize. The lunch room is just...uncomfortably loud and you don't like those friends. But that doesn't stop your chest from tightening and your breaths from speeding up and your head from going light. This body feels light. You might collapse. You're starting to cry and you don't really know what for. You're going to have a panic attack or a breakdown and you know that and still, there is nowhere for you to go. You can't stop this but you know it isn't safe. It isn't safe. It isn't safe.

Thoughts, "It's alright. You're safe. Walk with me." Walking up the stairs, grabbing the bannister lightly. You still feel light, you still want to cry, but your body doesn't. Your body feels...calm. Soft. The thoughts are soothing, and they reassure you you're safe. You're safe. Everything is alright.

.

You're in class again...same class? Hold on. You don't have this class twice today. Huh? You look at your book. It's...it's been two weeks. Well then. The teacher is taking the register. You aren't listening. You flip through your book and try to piece together the weeks you missed. You somehow just...know the subject material. Huh. Alright. You're midway through catching up when you realize the room has gone silent. You perk up to listen to the teacher. She says a name. Pause. She says it again. Pause. She looks at you.

Oh shit yeah that's your name. "Here".

.

That was how our days were. Eventually, this got too much for us. Between the bullying and our unaccommodated struggles with mental health, as well as an incident that had happened, we had to come out of school. We are now "homeschooled", though to be quite honest, the body's parents don't bother at all.

We do not leave our house. We are unable to without severe stress most of the time. We have no real friends. The only close friend we do have is our beautiful online partner system we have known for about 2 years. We have tried making new (online) friends, but it's hard. We have to mask, and if masking isn't a problem, then we'll just forget to text them frequently enough to become close or texting someone we can't trust will make us too anxious. We're afraid of people. We're afraid of being ourselves, we're afraid of getting "being ourselves" wrong. We're afraid of what people will do to us if we trust them enough to know things about us. We're afraid. Every day is riddled with anxiety and fear. We still can't get a good night's rest without nightmare after nightmare, it's so bad most of us are afraid of even sleep.

We cannot go out. We cannot make friends. We cannot sleep. We cannot eat. We cannot do anything at all really. On top of that, we still live in a highly stressful environment. With nobody to tell. Oftentimes we won't even go into detail with our partner system because being so vulnerable with someone has only ever led to giving people the tools to hurt us.

.

And then I see older systems on the internet who will mock us for our age, our ways of coping, our desire to find community, our desire to look for the little positives we can. I suffer. We suffer. I should get to love my headmates in peace, tell the internet our little headmate quirks in peace.

Nobody has ever scorned singlets like this just for loving themselves, to find healing through their hurt. Especially not to teenagers. Why do we do this with systems?

We don't have a whole "switches on camera" or "alter with certain tics" type thing. We also do think we need therapy, though due to horrible experiences in the past and our current circumstances, we fear reaching out in any way to get it. What we are, however, is a 14 year old system online.

Perhaps we were not the target of this, since we only fit one of the critiques (being age), but I couldn't help but read this and feel a sort of anger towards younger people with this disorder. Yes, I understand we are self-diagnosed and why you would be iffy on the ability for a teenager to research such a complex disorder properly and to then do things people have to get qualifications for (diagnose themselves), but where is the empathy? We are not mocking your disorder or making fun of you, we are just trying to find some way we can help ourselves and feel comfortable with ourselves when we lack all the resources we really should have access to (a therapist, a support system, a loving community, ect.)

It is posts like these that make us feel unsafe. Because what if I tell someone we are a system and their first reaction is to deny us? To tell us we cannot possibly be? That I made up my headmates, that I'm unknowingly faking a disorder for "clout"?

What if I try to be open about what I feel is my experience and the first thought to come to someone's mind is, "you are mocking people"?

What if me, saying who I think I am, is automatically met with the assumption that I am malicious?

What if people hate me just for my experienced existence?

Just a big rant. Just fucking sick of some aspects of life right now

Having DID is something that affects your life in all the worst ways possible. Going out into town? A stranger walking behind you will make you think they're going to hurt you or worse. People being overly friendly, being approached by strangers, open spaces with large crowds? It will almost always cause a trigger and more often than not a panic attack.

I personally love a con called Armageddon, I love going there and I love the space. And yet despite this it will always end in trying to calm myself down in the cosplay lounge or the toilet due to triggers from such a large space with 150+ people. I have been going for, 4 years now I think. And every single time I end up having a dissociative episode and panic attacks. Due to this I don't go out to places like that alone anymore. My girlfriend will be there with me or a close friend because the absolute horror of being in a dissociative state while having a panic attack and some strangers come up to you trying to help only makes it worse. I won't even go out into town alone anymore. Note that my town isn't huge like say Auckland or Wellington. But nonetheless it will still set me off. My girlfriend has to put up with so much of my shit, so many dissociative episodes and panic attacks I am so grateful that she is by my side. Always there to help me when I need it the most.

And then I see 14 year olds making a mockery of DID by "switching on camera" and "oh this specific alter has tics!" Or some of that bullshit. While saying they love all their alters and that half of them are dating each other. All the while being against integration and not wanting therapy because "oh its not bad enough". I am so fucking sick of it. I am sick of not being able to live my life without daily fucking interruptions. I hate how fucking vulnerable i constantly feel.

[c0rdylin3]

all the porn in the intersex tag is genuinely pissing me off so much

[somepoetwannabe]

I love how our friend claims to be so accepting of systems and their problems until they are faced with me, a persecutor, and my problems. Then it is "fuck you, you're a horrible person. Despite half the things you did being seen as necessary and even good in your own eyes. I know you have been through horrible things that made you unable to experience natural empathy but I don't care. It hurt my feelings terribly that you did all the things you warned me you were capable of, and you wounded my saviour complex."

[lobotomizedtord]

loungewear 🥨

[the-astral-fairgrounds]

do you think the Old Man saw a bit of the Parkour Villain in Evbo. because Evbo is always doing those 360s, which nobody else around him seems to have seen before, but the Parkour Villain can do them too. do you think. the Old Man saw that. and decided to mentor him to stop any chance of him falling down the same path.

yeah no that would be crazy....

[pusher-1996]

@adamlanzaglazer69

[cogs-incorporated]

Missy monsoon…….. <3333

[jmoonjones]

Rhys overreacts so Azriel uses it as an excuse to gossip during billable work hours ☕️

(There is a good chance of typos or grammatical errors. But I included Princess Glowworm as a preemptive apology! 🩵)