<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781</id><updated>2012-02-17T11:33:40.162+10:00</updated><category term='Safety'/><category term='the Weather'/><category term='amnesia'/><category term='life plans'/><category term='stuck watching'/><category term='Kasey'/><category term='Offline'/><category term='the UnPerson'/><category term='definitions'/><category term='stuff'/><category term='Ultimate Reign'/><category term='Sara'/><category term='Nothing'/><category term='Castle'/><category term='money worry'/><category term='Broken'/><category term='self-harm'/><category term='Heidi'/><category term='Day House'/><category term='blackness'/><category term='committee'/><category term='Lovers'/><category term='Sunday'/><category term='switching'/><category term='Failings'/><category term='Colours'/><category term='new alters'/><category term='Sam'/><category term='Getting out there'/><category term='My Partner'/><category term='Religion'/><category term='Our Analogies'/><title type='text'>A Masqueraded Mind</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6324343648433525874</id><published>2010-03-23T20:49:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T20:52:19.568+10:00</updated><title type='text'>Besides that..</title><content type='html'>Besides the good stuff - I will mention that I didn't blog in February because FEBRUARY SUXS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;February is a million shitty things. It contains the birth bodies birthday, it contains the day I left my marriage, the day i was married, was "baptised", lost a beautiful baby (in utero), every time I turn around in February - its another Nightmare day....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trigger central!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6324343648433525874?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6324343648433525874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6324343648433525874' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6324343648433525874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6324343648433525874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2010/03/besides-that.html' title='Besides that..'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-5553310216035792618</id><published>2010-03-23T20:30:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T20:37:30.091+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><title type='text'>Good Evening!</title><content type='html'>Well hasn't it been ages since I have blogged!!&lt;br /&gt;Things have changed drastically for us. In a good way (well I think)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes I know its not great from a Multiple view but I need this right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you know how I was having issues with all this change and multiplicity etc. I went and got a Full-time job. So now we are a mum and a fiance and a worker - I commute to the city, I work all day. Its exhausting and its all me. I am in full control. Ultimate control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kasey and I, really. No Heidi, no physco stress bunnies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know its not the best solution, but I am not a mulitple. Seriously and I can't live like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a long story how I managed to get them all to agree. And I guess I'm on probation really. But unless we have a trigger or something major - its only me. Only me thinking, only me talking... oh thank f))*##*( lord. Only me. I know I am selfish. But you can still judge me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was actually a family decision - to go this road - because we really weren't coping at all. I know at some point in the future I will have to again relinquish control. But for now, I am it and I am happy with that. I am happy. But then I am Sam&lt;br /&gt;and I have always been happy as me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that most of you are going through tough times - cause it never really ends for us... (even when we are Ultimately Reigning...lol) so hang in there. One day this life will be over and in the mean time... every once and a while nice distractions come along...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-5553310216035792618?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5553310216035792618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=5553310216035792618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/5553310216035792618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/5553310216035792618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2010/03/good-evening.html' title='Good Evening!'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-7567315321945917929</id><published>2010-01-06T16:04:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T16:23:21.905+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Partner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the UnPerson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blackness'/><title type='text'>Tell me Which Direction!!!</title><content type='html'>I am trying really hard to focus and get on with it, but damn it's not that easy. I just can't seem to decide which way to go. Do I keep the job/life structure that they had, that Heidi had or the home business that Amy started? Do I go back to my old line of work and life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so twisted inside out at the moment that it's insane. It's like I need to jump out of myself to see perspective. But I know that in uttering that I am invoking a terrible desire for someone/anyone who is lurking to take over the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh No You Bloody Don't!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am struggling but not ready to give in People. I am just finding it hard to know who I am. NO. Actually, I know who I am. I am finding it hard to .... see how to fit who I am into the life that we have now. Haven't I said that all along...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flashbacks the other night. Body on edge. I could watch, as is usual - and I eventually forced my way back to control. You know, I watch my partner while they are there - reliving things that he doesnt even have the capacity to come close to accepting or replicating or being okay with, and I hurt for him. He sees that they are terrified of him, he knows what they think he will do, he knows I am not there, its not me. And he knows that he cannot get me back by his care, by his voice or by his actions. He knows that he must leave the grown woman who is shirking, terrified of him, shaking in the corner and walk away. He knows he must state his name, why he is there and that if we need him - he will be just in the next room. And then he must wait.&lt;br /&gt;That must be agony really. To see on your fiance's face - the fear that a four year old felt at the hands of her abuser. At the hands of her own father.&lt;br /&gt;He is a father now. Of a child the same age. And he cries when we talk about it, how could ruin something so beautifully innocent as the learning, wondering, amazingness of a small child. They love unconditionally, with no thought for the evilness of this world. They wonder so openly, with no knowledge of the prejudice or pain of the earth. And those that do this terrible thing say it is out of love.&lt;br /&gt;You know not of love, nor of giving, nor of unselfish care and consideration for others.&lt;br /&gt;You are nothing. Do you understand? NOthing! You are scum on this earth. You do not love. You only have evil where the love should be. Maybe you are blind to it, but that is how it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know of love. I know of the love of a child, the love of a person who stands by you, despite your failings, despite the fact you are unstable and freakish in nature. I know of the love of friends who risk their way of life for you. I know of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have none. And at every turn possible. I will prevent anyone I know of even coming close to being in contact or having any small affection for you. You will never see your Beautiful Innocent almost four-year-old GrandDaughter. You will never see my sweet and tiny little neice. You will never lay a finger on them, nor sight them, nor speak to them. For as long as my body and mind are conscious. So I shall remain steadfast in this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I could not have. I WILL PROVIDE FOR MY CHILD. Not food, not shelter, not education (though you were lacking in all of those for us) but Love. Unconditional, unsullied, unadulterated, unevil: Love. You truly f$^#*@(d up my existance. I stand now, to succeed despite you. Inspite of you. Your actions cannot be forgiven by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned away from you years ago. I reaffirm it. It will be Forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-7567315321945917929?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7567315321945917929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=7567315321945917929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/7567315321945917929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/7567315321945917929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/tell-me-which-direction.html' title='Tell me Which Direction!!!'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-5399040678834304768</id><published>2010-01-04T15:34:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T15:46:32.425+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Partner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life plans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kasey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heidi'/><title type='text'>Even if it Doesn't matter, You gotta get on With It</title><content type='html'>So hello,&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that we moved house? Did I mention that I LOVE it?!&lt;br /&gt;New house, new rules. My rules. HHHEEE HEEEE :- my SO is a little skeptical about the new regime, but we shall see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have chosen a place to live that I (Samantha) like and no one else is able to inhabit the body while in this house. Kasey is back co with me. Thank the Lord - life is ordered now. I have as much order as a half dead cochroach on my own, but Kasey - oh the world is perfectly white, crisp sheet of paper with her.&lt;br /&gt;We have made concessions to ensure that the rest of the family are looked after in this - the next year of ultimate reign. We are conscious that we have to not ignore problems and not pretend like we arent multiple (even though I still can't handle the whole freaky idea)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we have to organise what we are doing (Me and Kasey) and where we are going. Oh and buy new stuff and package up all the crap from the others for the past 4 ish years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been good so far. And Yes - I got Heidi's permission to have her not co-conscious, before I kicked her to the curb...lol. All above board. My first successful TakeOver. Yippee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to be serious, there is alot of work ahead to get life back to a point where I could look at it and say "I am successful" cause at the moment everyone looks at it and says "You are successful, considering your multiplicity" but I don't want that factored in. I want to be amazing just as S &amp;amp; K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rule...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the doubters out there - I am fully aware that this is not a failsafe option, that takeovers are traumatic and difficult and that the others have issues and needs as well. We have put in place measures to deal with those things and measures to ensure that daily life is held standard so the bizarre switching and dangerous memory issues are not present so much. It's just not good for a chick with a partner and a child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers for today! Cheers for tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, it really doesnt matter if it all Suxs to the SkY. You still gotta get up off your butt and keep doing something.. else nothing gonna get done. And then who's fault is it that life suxs....&lt;br /&gt;(Oh right, that'd be me, AGAIN)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-5399040678834304768?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5399040678834304768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=5399040678834304768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/5399040678834304768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/5399040678834304768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/even-if-it-doesnt-matter-you-gotta-get.html' title='Even if it Doesn&apos;t matter, You gotta get on With It'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-679377572160677060</id><published>2010-01-01T16:58:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T17:06:19.230+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stuff'/><title type='text'>Maybe it doesnt matter</title><content type='html'>Do you really think that what we say or do or ramble on about matters?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder really. Who cares how we live our lives... who gets to judge? Why aren't we happy if nobody really can judge? Is it all about our conscience? Is that what judges us harshly each and every day? Is that what punishes us with rude comments and mean gestures and unloving behaviour? I know we punish us all the time. So do others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are we living this stupid life for anyway? Does it get any better? So frigging what if we survived hell on earth as a 2 year old, if we have to carry the f((&amp;amp;*^*&amp;amp;^ weight of it around for the rest of our bloody lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a shitty, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;satyrical&lt;/span&gt; mood today and unimpressed with life in general. Great way to start a new year. But who cares really. The last million years of life have sucked... why would this one be any better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure they look great on top, and there are moments that almost reach joyousness - but it's all superficial really. Cause just under the surface is a smouldering pustule of hate and regret and pain and suffering and a whole bunch of people unable to get away from any of it. They just sit suspended in filth and punishment and retribution - of what - ? of being born. That's f((*** what. That's their crime. They were god-damn born. To wish away your very life existence - the very fabric of your being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's harsh. But it's our reality isn't it people, and in my opinion is probably many many peoples reality. Not just us multi people's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well congrats on the new year everyone. Hope it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;suxs&lt;/span&gt; less than last year for you, I have no such hope. But I do hope to lose a dress size (blah... how funny) and buy a pair of bright red shoes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-679377572160677060?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/679377572160677060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=679377572160677060' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/679377572160677060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/679377572160677060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2010/01/maybe-it-doesnt-matter.html' title='Maybe it doesnt matter'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6926619241649417775</id><published>2009-12-11T09:19:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T09:27:34.359+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting out there'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kasey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heidi'/><title type='text'>Here I am</title><content type='html'>I want to post. I have wanted to post all day, even though it's only early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are moving house on the weekend. And we have created a new agreement - self-binding when we move in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was back in semi-control of the body in August. Its December. So we have given the 'sharing' thing a try. It's just not working. Nothing is working. Life as a bunch of people - I can't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with some clauses to tweek the original issues of why me and Kasey can't be in full body control. From Monday we begin to take back control. I know you need more explanation - because just blogging this little bit doesn't give anything up really. But its important for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I am wondering about today is what to do with everyone's stuff. I don't want it. It's not mine. I don't even like 98% of it. So do i buy a million boxes to put it all in or throw it all away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the answer. It's just soooo frustrating to have to pack up someone else's life so that you can live yours. But its only a week away... Ohhhhh I think i am getting excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heidi has agreed to give permanent control back to me (as long as Kasey and I are co-conscious again) with the proviso that she is allowed time with our partner when she needs it AND that Kasey and I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;listen&lt;/span&gt; and address any issues that she brings us on behalf of everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life - HERE I AM&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6926619241649417775?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6926619241649417775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6926619241649417775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6926619241649417775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6926619241649417775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/12/here-i-am.html' title='Here I am'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-8116071784695643709</id><published>2009-11-19T16:06:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T16:08:09.296+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nothing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amnesia'/><title type='text'>Sam on Holiday</title><content type='html'>Hi,&lt;br /&gt;I'm still around just disappearing and losing large chunks of time this last week. I guess it comes with the territory. I keep thinking of all these things i could blog about - but I don't get a chance.&lt;br /&gt;Been a bad week. Still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-8116071784695643709?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8116071784695643709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=8116071784695643709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8116071784695643709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8116071784695643709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/sam-on-holiday.html' title='Sam on Holiday'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-4023987993867149092</id><published>2009-11-17T09:04:00.001+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T09:06:11.754+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nothing'/><title type='text'>So disappointed - oh well</title><content type='html'>Oh well. I was trying to blog everyday for NaBloPoMo - but yesterday me and my girls had a vomiting bug. And I didn't post. Totally fled my mind (along with bills, washing, everything).&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. It was only a trial thing. Still disappointed in myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-4023987993867149092?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4023987993867149092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=4023987993867149092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4023987993867149092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4023987993867149092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-disappointed-oh-well.html' title='So disappointed - oh well'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-2924913338465655815</id><published>2009-11-15T20:37:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T20:40:55.086+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the UnPerson'/><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>It's Sunday night. And that's okay. I counted up how many migraine tablets we have taken this week - how many are missing from the box, since I wasn't in control of it. 40 tablets. Not bad for a week. Obviously a bad week.&lt;br /&gt;Oh what a funny joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi - I had a bad week. Why? Well i was sexually molested and abused as a child, became a DID multi person from it and happened randomly to be standing 1 metre from that same abuser momentarily on Monday. Why should it have been bad. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers for the week anyways! I am going to turn in early.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-2924913338465655815?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2924913338465655815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=2924913338465655815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/2924913338465655815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/2924913338465655815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-3515331939916019166</id><published>2009-11-14T19:26:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T19:39:17.596+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Offline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Partner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the UnPerson'/><title type='text'>Today It Hit</title><content type='html'>Today the fall out began.&lt;br /&gt;I did not expect it. We had houses to inspect because we have to be out of here in 5 weeks. So we were organised to house hunt for the day.&lt;br /&gt;Today we began to fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;I knew it was coming. But not today. Any other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My partner knew it would be today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, he said, yellow submarine girl was there in the background. He knew it would be today.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know her age, or what happened to her - only that she sings the beatles song 'yellow submarine' over and over in her mind when she is frightened. We were at the end of being intimate (me being very careful to listen out for any others coming into something that they wouldn't understand) when she came through. He is a good man. He listens when I say "someone's here" he doesnt do anything - he puts clothes over us and talks to the littles that come through if they do. He is a good man. I mean that truthfully. My ex-husband ignored or delighted in tormenting and re-abusing them. But this man - he treats them like they are real children, in front of him, thrown into something beyond them.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so he knew. He knew today we would fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was McHappy day at Mcdonalds, and we went there to take our daughter for lunch. A police officer came over (they were volunteering) and asked her if she wanted her face painted - she nodded and followed him. Children are so vulnerable, so trusting, so innocent. My partner followed her - I fell apart. In the corner of McDonalds. I cried for the innocence that is taken away from the children of abuse. For all my tiny littles. Who's trust in the man who was their father - was smashed, broken, shattered, crushed, violated, i can't think of a word to describe it.&lt;br /&gt;So in McDonalds. I fell apart.&lt;br /&gt;Heidi woke up this morning with a killer migraine - they all decided today they would begin to talk again. Tried in vain to get rid of it. Finally tonight it is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's only because I have taken the mind away. Heidi is offline - along with the rest of them. Somewhere suffering in silence. Until we have the safety to let them fall apart - with no risk of self-injury or life-damage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a daft post this is. Oh well. Good bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-3515331939916019166?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3515331939916019166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=3515331939916019166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/3515331939916019166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/3515331939916019166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/today-it-hit.html' title='Today It Hit'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-8550912805539754649</id><published>2009-11-13T15:50:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T15:57:32.430+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><title type='text'>It gets in My Way</title><content type='html'>It really gets in my way, this dissociative thing. I want to be a whole person, with a whole body - who remembers EVERYTHING that happens to them.&lt;br /&gt;I probably would amend that if I could remember it all - but I can't. Missing hours, days, months, years, last night and this morning.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I could actually be really great at something - if I wasn't always switching. If I forced the year of Ultimate Reign back upon them : would I get it all back? And would I get lynch mobbed out of the front line again if I did?&lt;br /&gt;Is that selfish to want to be in control of my own life? My own destiny? Be responsible and accountable for all of my actions - and to actually have them have been MY actions?&lt;br /&gt;If I had the choice - I wouldn't be what I am now. I would walk out that door and live my life and not switch to someone else half way. I would stand up and do whatever it is I want.&lt;br /&gt;But here I am - having no idea what 'we' want - because we all want different things. And what I want?&lt;br /&gt;Its not compatible with life in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-8550912805539754649?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8550912805539754649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=8550912805539754649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8550912805539754649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8550912805539754649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/it-gets-in-my-way.html' title='It gets in My Way'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6430974372138904709</id><published>2009-11-12T15:49:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T16:14:31.814+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Partner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Colours'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heidi'/><title type='text'>Pretty Pink Things for Heidi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Heidi has been really stressed from the lack of communication and internal numbness. I hate that I have to care, but she is really stressed. And as our partner has said to her - don't worry - enjoy and take the time to relax while they are silent and you can better deal with it when they start talking again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Heidi is someone who likes to look at pretty things - not necessarily own them or look like them. So this post is Pretty Pink Things for Heidi :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukVidpzqI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Opk3YojTnb4/s1600-h/cakea.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukVKPcEqI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rJ7wjtOnQ2w/s1600-h/formal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukVKPcEqI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rJ7wjtOnQ2w/s320/formal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092861394358946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukVidpzqI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Opk3YojTnb4/s1600-h/cakea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukVidpzqI/AAAAAAAAAEE/Opk3YojTnb4/s320/cakea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092867896430242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukUwHRgqI/AAAAAAAAAD0/P53ONOqPFT8/s1600-h/princess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukUwHRgqI/AAAAAAAAAD0/P53ONOqPFT8/s320/princess.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092854380790434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukUtChcRI/AAAAAAAAADs/_SewusRgNww/s1600-h/cake+b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukUtChcRI/AAAAAAAAADs/_SewusRgNww/s320/cake+b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092853555556626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj4xK8sDI/AAAAAAAAADk/gotnZNJxZ4E/s1600-h/gerbera.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj4xK8sDI/AAAAAAAAADk/gotnZNJxZ4E/s320/gerbera.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092373628301362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj4SMJzPI/AAAAAAAAADc/paxDtw9X0XA/s1600-h/PinkFairy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj4SMJzPI/AAAAAAAAADc/paxDtw9X0XA/s320/PinkFairy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092365311855858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj4HXPLMI/AAAAAAAAADU/Nv-xVXmXjTg/s1600-h/prom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj4HXPLMI/AAAAAAAAADU/Nv-xVXmXjTg/s320/prom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092362405555394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj3796gTI/AAAAAAAAADM/1_RoGMpjHWA/s1600-h/roses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj3796gTI/AAAAAAAAADM/1_RoGMpjHWA/s320/roses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092359346553138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj3TCAa6I/AAAAAAAAADE/9wHbYFieopY/s1600-h/underwear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svuj3TCAa6I/AAAAAAAAADE/9wHbYFieopY/s320/underwear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403092348357864354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvujfZjavjI/AAAAAAAAAC8/AnHE1i9-TuA/s1600-h/fairy.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvujfZjavjI/AAAAAAAAAC8/AnHE1i9-TuA/s320/fairy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403091937791753778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvujeZqY81I/AAAAAAAAACk/zGreYdwOhCM/s1600-h/bouquet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvujeZqY81I/AAAAAAAAACk/zGreYdwOhCM/s320/bouquet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403091920641127250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svujd-_32VI/AAAAAAAAACc/WUahtAcUP4I/s1600-h/dress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/Svujd-_32VI/AAAAAAAAACc/WUahtAcUP4I/s320/dress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403091913483475282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6430974372138904709?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6430974372138904709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6430974372138904709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6430974372138904709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6430974372138904709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/pretty-pink-things-for-heidi.html' title='Pretty Pink Things for Heidi'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvukVKPcEqI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rJ7wjtOnQ2w/s72-c/formal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-4455387732725377587</id><published>2009-11-11T15:32:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T15:43:21.717+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><title type='text'>Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvpOtZbbKqI/AAAAAAAAACU/u2YXu8aFUKU/s1600-h/shattered.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvpOtZbbKqI/AAAAAAAAACU/u2YXu8aFUKU/s320/shattered.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402717244811324066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not in a great head space, so I am not going to blog much - just enough to suffice a post for NaBloPoMo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have got through a good amount of paperwork etc today. I am satisfied. Seems like everyone is still a little numb. Just worried that they are going to crack at some point in the near future - as terrified littles are wont to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had better relaxation techniques that worked for all of us. My old techniques (in the year of Ultimate Reign) didn't need to include littles and tweens etc and so they don't work anymore for the whole lot of them. I relax, but they don't. This whole - living together - is a bit of hard work. Too hard some days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-4455387732725377587?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4455387732725377587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=4455387732725377587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4455387732725377587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4455387732725377587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/wednesday.html' title='Wednesday'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvpOtZbbKqI/AAAAAAAAACU/u2YXu8aFUKU/s72-c/shattered.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6084106089899848215</id><published>2009-11-10T09:53:00.006+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T10:17:32.613+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Safety'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the UnPerson'/><title type='text'>An Instant that ReShatters a Soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"&gt;I have to blog this. But Its not going to be easy. You will understand when you read, I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"&gt;A lovely girl, no a woman. A mother, a helper. Someone dressed nicely who appears calm, confident, in control. She waits with an elderly couple whom she is assisting for the day. In a hospital. When a person, no sorry, a monster - walks in the door, not one metre from her and hurries upon its way..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"&gt;without even seeing the woman. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"&gt;The woman looks collected, she looks whole, she looks normal - but inside, where delicate strands of healing had formed to encompass those in great pain - that instant, reshatters their soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Grandparents are elderly, our Grandmother lives in nursing care now. But we still need to take her manually to the Hospital for her appointments. Its always an ordeal ~ she is the loveliest woman I ever knew, but she has almost no muscle strength, and getting her in and out of cars and wheelchairs etc is difficult ~ but we laugh and enjoy it ~ though for her it must hurt sometimes.. to have a GrandDaughter toilet you, (just last year, before we found the nursing care place, we (my mother and I) did everything for her, shower, toilet, help feed etc.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would do anything for her and almost anything for my Grandfather (I apologise to those of you whose abuser was a grandparent.) He is a tad more selfish and controlling, but he was never in any way abusive. They were our lifeline, her sanity, the only place that she could ever feel like she could take a breath safely. They were strict and old-fashioned. But we were always safe to sleep in the bed at their house. Although, as we got older, I was allowed less and less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A thing we hated forever has now become a thing that saved us yesterday. The thing, the UnPerson (because we cannot call him anything else right now) is a very hell-bent, one-tracked, obsessive person. So when it entered the hospital doors, it went straight down the hall to its destination, no side track, no looking around. The only people standing anywhere - was a woman with her Grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kept it together, until we could fall apart - late last night. And after this post. We will put it all away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are the chances really? In this wide world, on an average day? When you have not seen this thing for years? What are the chances?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is numb and silent today. I, Sam, am worried. What happens when the numb wears off and the feelings set it. Shattered Soul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6084106089899848215?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6084106089899848215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6084106089899848215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6084106089899848215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6084106089899848215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/instant-that-reshatters-soul.html' title='An Instant that ReShatters a Soul'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6849922550721837413</id><published>2009-11-09T08:52:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T10:18:32.135+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the Weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day House'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Castle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the UnPerson'/><title type='text'>Daylight Darkness and the Smell of Rain</title><content type='html'>Its 9am and its dark outside - overcast and grey, the smell of rain pervades the air.. but it hasn't rained again yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The breeze blows gently, bringing clear sounds from far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this weather, these days, though they are rare and often confronting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I open the window and let it confront me ~ my body shivers and tingles and sighs in release. These are the times of beauty, forgiveness, love, pain, aching, yearning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Shh, don't spoil it ~ but these are the days that 'he' never got out of bed. The days that you would never come across him when going out to the kitchen or to play with your sisters in the lounge room. These were the safe days. Safe to spend huddled near my bedroom window - feeling the breeze on my face ~ safe to dream that sometime, somewhere ~ maybe this didn't have to be life.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Safe to dream dreams, and create a beautiful castle her tiny head ~ somewhere to hide where it was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, is why our castle is always in rain, light rain, like a scottish countryside. The day house has sun, light, and fluffy clouds in the blue sky ~ because the littles are happier there, and so are many others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the castle remains ~ isolated, majestic in its infinite creation. The castle holds the secrets and the pain and the memories. In the day house ~ we can get by. In the castle, we can hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the rain is poignant and painful and beautiful and brings hopes and dreams...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvdSqPCk47I/AAAAAAAAACM/2AHDAx7hDso/s1600-h/castle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvdSqPCk47I/AAAAAAAAACM/2AHDAx7hDso/s320/castle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401877163599520690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Ironic that here we are in a life without that abuse and suffering and yet ~ now it is so ingrained, was so damaging, that life came to revolve around it anyway...Life is cruel. That tiny child did not deserve what happened to her.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxoo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6849922550721837413?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6849922550721837413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6849922550721837413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6849922550721837413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6849922550721837413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/daylight-darkness-and-smell-of-rain.html' title='Daylight Darkness and the Smell of Rain'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvdSqPCk47I/AAAAAAAAACM/2AHDAx7hDso/s72-c/castle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-492407325072216737</id><published>2009-11-08T06:42:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T07:01:06.697+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Partner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='switching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stuff'/><title type='text'>Classic Hoarder</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvXfqPzvUUI/AAAAAAAAAB8/W7UosAXrVR4/s1600-h/expedit+bookcase.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvXfqPzvUUI/AAAAAAAAAB8/W7UosAXrVR4/s320/expedit+bookcase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401469244991820098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a question to ponder:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do alot of DID's hoard everything? Or just us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are moving house soon ~ and I feel that we carry so much from place to place - a double garage full of stuff never touched since last move 18 months ago. Although it is all packed neatly in boxes ~ better than just thrown on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the problem is it's a collection of 30 or more people's lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My partner is helping me clean things out and decide to keep some, sell some, and throw the garbage stuff out. He is doing really great - he helps organise the stuff once i have assigned it a pile and he keeps constant watch (like a hovering bird) and pulls me back to reality as soon as he sees the signs of switching ~ or he hugs the alter who pops out in connection to their stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is amazing. Truly. Its a long and stressful job. But "I" feel it's a good idea. Its healing. Its also annoying that I cant just throw it all out since none of it is mine. But we don't want to upset people now do we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me is Hoarding a classic commonality for us all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need one of these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvXfqhHuaHI/AAAAAAAAACE/7AqRzP6R5Ac/s1600-h/Boekenkast_EvaMarie_001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvXfqhHuaHI/AAAAAAAAACE/7AqRzP6R5Ac/s320/Boekenkast_EvaMarie_001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401469249639049330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Full of those little basket things, one per person. Lol... If we were a millionaire..We have compartments everywhere!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-492407325072216737?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/492407325072216737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=492407325072216737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/492407325072216737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/492407325072216737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/classic-hoarder.html' title='Classic Hoarder'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvXfqPzvUUI/AAAAAAAAAB8/W7UosAXrVR4/s72-c/expedit+bookcase.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-4587592945994676353</id><published>2009-11-08T06:34:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T06:42:25.193+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sunday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Sunday, Just another Manic Sunday</title><content type='html'>Sunday is usually by far our worst day of the week. Bizarre. But since it lacks the structure of the other 6 days, no secular work, family all at home etc.. it also lacks internal structure and they all do just as they please.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I don't have much control. I phase in and out, we switch alot. I haven't explored whether it has deeper implications such as Sunday was the most prominent religious day in my childhood, although they all were. (Please note: although I have little memory of childhood I am fairly certain at this point I did not experience Ritual Satanic Abuse or RSA). No doubt if I felt inclined to delve: many things would surface, but we are good at hiding. LOL. (A dissociative good at hiding, how uncommon).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-4587592945994676353?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4587592945994676353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=4587592945994676353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4587592945994676353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4587592945994676353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunday-just-another-manic-sunday.html' title='Sunday, Just another Manic Sunday'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-3188859245065044321</id><published>2009-11-07T09:57:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T10:13:55.625+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Our Analogies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><title type='text'>Today's Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;I don't know what Today's Post is going to be about yet ~ so I will just type. I have been known to be inspirational at times ~ but then again I don't think that that was actually me. I am too realistic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;I miss my life so much. It's one of the hardest things about being DID I reckon. Its like sitting visiting a park bench - you love it, you sit watching the trees, the dappled sunlight filters through huge old knarled branches, it makes you calm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvS6VcOtZdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dVWgNenRE3w/s1600-h/treea.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvS6VcOtZdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dVWgNenRE3w/s320/treea.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401146730641974738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;And then suddenly you realise you have been gone for a some time ~ now you are on the bench but the paint is fading, there are new saplings around and someone has put stones over the old dirt path.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;And then.. once again you realise you have been gone for a while. The park bench is old and the paint peeling off, the old majestic tree is still there, but now there is a play ground and cement paths.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Its all kind of the same, but you miss the essence of what was yours. Its not really yours anymore. Now you share it, now you yearn for what you had. Now you cry ~ because you can never have it back again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Life is altered irreversibly and it had nothing to do with you. You have no choice. I have no choice. It might seem you have infinite choices with a fractured mind ~ but in fact YOU HAVE NONE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-3188859245065044321?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3188859245065044321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=3188859245065044321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/3188859245065044321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/3188859245065044321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/todays-post.html' title='Today&apos;s Post'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvS6VcOtZdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/dVWgNenRE3w/s72-c/treea.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-8475317453783216892</id><published>2009-11-06T08:52:00.007+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T09:17:54.065+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-harm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='switching'/><title type='text'>Not So Great Today</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was not okay. Its early today, but its not looking good.&lt;br /&gt;The Sara stuff was a bit triggering for us, but we were dealing with it. Worst luck...&lt;br /&gt;not 2hours later and J'W's come randomly knocking on the door. WHY did we answer it? I still don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus spiralled a pitiful afternoon of rapid switching, much arguing, angry alters, sad alters, suicidal alters and of course the self-harm. I feel too much emotion today, from too many people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am going to just put up some pictures instead. May you keep safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the Tainted Reality we See:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFuPyptI/AAAAAAAAABk/iIRC0DPGSns/s1600-h/suicide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFuPyptI/AAAAAAAAABk/iIRC0DPGSns/s320/suicide.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400760532019095250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the Desire to Shed the Evil:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFX1asII/AAAAAAAAABc/Oq7WIOjuQ_M/s1600-h/deadrose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFX1asII/AAAAAAAAABc/Oq7WIOjuQ_M/s320/deadrose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400760526002892930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For The Pain all Encompassing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFHwrKjI/AAAAAAAAABU/6RpELxqE5vU/s1600-h/bloodrose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFHwrKjI/AAAAAAAAABU/6RpELxqE5vU/s320/bloodrose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400760521688033842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the Way we Have to Live on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNYVmiMwTI/AAAAAAAAABE/_95nAv_K8_w/s1600-h/heartbreak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNYVmiMwTI/AAAAAAAAABE/_95nAv_K8_w/s320/heartbreak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400757506291843378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For the escape that We dream of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNcbhDc9-I/AAAAAAAAABs/8WgcI9YhcdA/s1600-h/mansion+with+water+body.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNcbhDc9-I/AAAAAAAAABs/8WgcI9YhcdA/s320/mansion+with+water+body.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400762005946431458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-8475317453783216892?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8475317453783216892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=8475317453783216892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8475317453783216892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8475317453783216892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-so-great-today.html' title='Not So Great Today'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SvNbFuPyptI/AAAAAAAAABk/iIRC0DPGSns/s72-c/suicide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-8479792869159009082</id><published>2009-11-05T09:18:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T09:39:52.028+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-harm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Offline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Profile: Sara</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Warning: Content may trigger. Please use caution if you find some topics in association with religion to be a trigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Today's post is going to be about Sara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I want it to be ~ but that's the way things are in this head, sometimes you get the choice, sometimes you don't. So suck it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara is ... devoted, indoctrinated, fanaticated (not a real word).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara is a person who is around the age of late teen ie 19ish. She has always been around that age - from about as far as I can access which is about body age 12. Thus many comments from teachers, church members etc, 'you are so mature for your age', 'so serious', 'a real depth of understanding and interest' 'much more studious than most in your age group'. Etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sara is deeply religious. In fact, life is religion to her, religion is life. She is and will remain a staunch Jehovah's Witness. (She is not currently a dominant or even in the main sphere of front-line persons, "offline", as Heidi calls it. She describes it as being like a Friend on your msn messenger - you can see their name and profile, but they aren't avaliable to interact with)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.... She, when as the front-person, spends the majority of her time in Bible Study, whether personal (on her own) or at their meetings, or out door-knocking or any other type of religious thing. In her spare time she cross-stitches - usually lovely flower scenes, or quaint cottages. Her work is very beautiful. I couldn't handle the patience or dull-ness of it all, personally. Anyway..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is a very black and white person. No fence-sitting. For the crime of the body (having been abused) which she sees as her own personal sin and failing (What the?!) anyways... For the crime of the body she believes that her blood must be offered as a sacrifice ~ poured out upon the ground. After she has fulfilled her religious duty to learn and teach and convert. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Please note that I don't actually know all that much about J'W's ~ however I don't think that they ascribe to any of that particularly ~ its just her bizarre interpretation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her devotion, faith and belief are all very strong. She is a very strong person and has a high pain threshold and has managed through some incredible situations.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I guess there is good and bad in every one. But she also carries a great weight of 'sin' for the things that were done to the body. She miscarried at one point when married and blames herself ~ she feels unworthy to have the blessing of a child when she is so rotten and filthy and unpure inside.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway enough of this. Its making alot of people upset and I am starting to shake..&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;That's it for Sara. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-8479792869159009082?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8479792869159009082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=8479792869159009082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8479792869159009082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8479792869159009082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/profile-sara.html' title='Profile: Sara'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-5923236508539354585</id><published>2009-11-04T14:21:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T14:36:29.886+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lovers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><title type='text'>Lovers &amp; Kisses</title><content type='html'>I was reading a great new blog I am following the other day called &lt;a href="http://calilonelyhearts.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lonely Hearts.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of when I was single and 21. Anyways, I wanted to write about the standout kisses in my life. This will be an ongoing post topic as we go along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Unexpected Passion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best kiss in this section goes to young Mr F. I was at a pub with a mate of mine and his best friend, it was just a meeting spot to decide about dinner - when I got a call from a guy who I had been out with on a 'less than successful' date a few months before. I was surprised. He said he was lonely. He hadn't seen anyone since (weird?!) and would i like to see a movie. Of course I said "Yes". And upset the mate I was with (long story). Off I went. I was excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy dressed beautifully and was very intellectual. Confident in his brain and body etc in general but totally shy around girls. I knew this. I was (notice the was) a petite, great figured, flirtaceous female. We saw a movie, talked alot and went home to his house, had a coffee ~ and he made no indication of anything at all, so I said I had to go. It was about 11:30pm. It was pouring with rain, we had already moved his dogs inside and dried them etc etc. I walked off into the rain and down the drive...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about half way down (it was quite long and tree lined) when he bolted out the door into the rain and stopped 2cms in from of my face: "Please.. I don't want you to go" and he put his hands around my face and kissed me so passionately, as it poured down rain on us. It was the most romantic moment I had had at that time. Interestingly, We still didn't work. I didn't love him and he didn't want someone like me. But for a short time (and a forever frozen moment) I had the most unexpected passionate kiss.  It was pure and beautiful and I won't ever forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said. I love my Fiance. And passion in love is so much more. Doesnt mean I can't remember the first times of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxoo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-5923236508539354585?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/5923236508539354585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=5923236508539354585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/5923236508539354585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/5923236508539354585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/lovers-kisses.html' title='Lovers &amp; Kisses'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-723265259966450918</id><published>2009-11-04T14:12:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T14:18:52.058+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Failings'/><title type='text'>Failings.</title><content type='html'>I have a killer headache starting... either a normal headache or one of Heidi's migraines. She's here co-conscious today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;I have a habit. A failing. A mean annoying, trait that I hate and that others hate about me. Except no one ever mentions it. I guess most people do. Mine only relates to my Sisters though (in this case). It is this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;If one of them falls over, or is in any other hilariously funny (but not serious) mishap I laugh my head off - loudly and with much jolliness. Except it hurts them. Well one of them anyway. And I never realise until later that once again I have pained her deeply. She is often in such situations as to look funny. And none of her body language or facial features betray the moment she goes from finding it funny to not. And I always get it wrong. And make her really pissed at me. Then she ignores me totally. I feel so stupid. I hate hurting her. I hate that I am so dumb as to not realise it, time and again. How stupid can ONE person be? Seriously. Der. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-723265259966450918?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/723265259966450918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=723265259966450918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/723265259966450918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/723265259966450918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/failings.html' title='Failings.'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-2985276747336699139</id><published>2009-11-03T15:36:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T15:39:48.194+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nothing'/><title type='text'>Nothing to Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Today I have nothing to say. I don't want to talk about my life. I don't want to talk about the others. I don't want to talk about the weather or life or the colour of pickles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;I don't want to talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;So that's my post. Welcome and Have a Great and Happy Day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Or NOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-2985276747336699139?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/2985276747336699139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=2985276747336699139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/2985276747336699139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/2985276747336699139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/nothing-to-say.html' title='Nothing to Say'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-7018744640400064180</id><published>2009-11-02T15:21:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T15:29:44.847+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken'/><title type='text'>And then Some Days...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;And then some days...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;It just doesn't matter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;It doesn't matter that our body is an adult. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;That we have our own family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;That we work and laugh and can watch tv any time we want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;That we have nothing to do with religion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;That we haven't seen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt; since the day we were legally an adult ~ that we turned our backs and walked away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;Somedays.. all we are is a broken, abused, beaten soul. The sum of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;And we are sad. So sad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Someday: By Rob Thomas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;You can go, you can start all over again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;You can try to find a way to make another day go by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;You can hide all your feelings inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;You can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;And maybe someday we'll figure all this out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Try to put an end to all our doubt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Try to find a way to make things better now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;And Maybe someday we'll live our lives out loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We'll be better off somehow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Someday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-7018744640400064180?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7018744640400064180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=7018744640400064180' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/7018744640400064180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/7018744640400064180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-then-some-days.html' title='And then Some Days...'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-3856693904335633051</id><published>2009-11-02T06:10:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T06:29:40.177+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='committee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-harm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new alters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heidi'/><title type='text'>Profile: Heidi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Heidi:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Heidi is our communicator. She is a lovely, caring soul and a rather new alter - actually our newest. She is the same age as the physical body but was created (to the best of my knowledge around the beginning of the year).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Heidi worries about everything: about her, about our child, our fiance, our extended family, the dishes, birds in the trees, people on the news, the state of the economy. She worries herself silly about all these things ~ creating ridiculous scenarios in order to be okay ie planning to save cardboard for when there is no money and we live in a box. Concern is fine ~ this woman makes herself frantic with worry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Heidi is very emotional. She spends alot of time crying and some laughing. Her eyes well up with tears everytime something goes slightly wrong. And in our land ~ well that is every couple of hours. I find her funny in some ways like that (but she is not particularly appreciative of my opinion..wonder why???) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;At first I didn't like Heidi much, I felt she was a useless, snivelling waste. Thanks to our dear fiance I am learning to understand and love her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Why did I misunderstand her? Well Heidi is all those things above.. a worrying, emotional mostly unable to get things down person, rather opposite to me. But she has a massive role and its a large undertaking for a very new alter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Heidi was created where there was need: apparently the committee felt it was necessary. (I will explain about them later). Obviously within any multiple person system some form of communicae is necessary ~ previously they had small free-for-alls at a large table. But due to the time taken with these and that there was no facilitator, they needed a better option. Ta da: creation Heidi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;Please understand that the creating of new alters in adulthood is not particularly common. It is only under great duress that the mind resorts to its previous methods of dealing with trauma and pain. And that time in life (when she was created, and i wasnt around) they were attempting to deal with normal life plus switching through 10-15 alters per day and being suicidal and self-harming 2 or more times a day. The grip on reality had failed. No bills were paid, no cleaning done, work was poor quality, family ignored, binge eating etc etc. Anyways...Here comes Heidi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;She was created and given the job of fixing. Poor soul. Who does that to a clueless person anyway? She has the ability to communicate with all the alters ~ she is able to be internal. She has met many I didn't even know about - but she has journalled it all so I can learn. She has had to listen to each of their pains and stories and memories and it was so devasting for her. I know you see it as all being in one mind ~ but imagine a person with no training, only a caring nature being given 30 ~ 40 different people, boys and girls of ages 2ish to 27 who have been sexually abused, molested, emotional abused, raped, silenced and who are frightened, confused, suicidal, bulimic etc etc. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;It just knocked her flat. Heidi has almost constant migraines ~ thats how the alters tell her they are upset. They each have a different area of the head that gets pains. Some other DID people have tingling limb parts for different alters, or sounds in their ears. Its rather freaky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);"&gt;OMG I have talked so much. Time to get organised for the day...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-3856693904335633051?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/3856693904335633051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=3856693904335633051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/3856693904335633051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/3856693904335633051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/profile-heidi.html' title='Profile: Heidi'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-8447012163760229291</id><published>2009-11-01T10:36:00.005+10:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T14:39:08.191+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting out there'/><title type='text'>NaBloPoMO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;National Blog Posting Month.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;Yes I am crazy. I can hardly keep myself in the present at the moment, having trouble holding onto the body this weekend and barely able to do simple things...but I love to do fun things and socialise and its only that the littles have had some shocker dreams lately... that they have been able to push through to the frontline.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;So I have decided to join&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://noblopomo.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SuzYgAv8BpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/VYRkdtFiI2k/s320/nablopomo200x150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398928097778861714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"&gt;And if I feel I am unable to post about me ~ well then I can start to give a run down on the other alters that I know about. Good luck to me!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-8447012163760229291?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/8447012163760229291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=8447012163760229291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8447012163760229291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/8447012163760229291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/11/noblopomo.html' title='NaBloPoMO'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SuzYgAv8BpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/VYRkdtFiI2k/s72-c/nablopomo200x150.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-7373790259323560498</id><published>2009-10-30T16:32:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T16:41:16.149+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amnesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='switching'/><title type='text'>Hey...Did you remember to..?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;Alters don't always share. Even when they communicate quite well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;Hey ... Did you remember to..? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;Says a friend, partner, family member, workmate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;Um. No. When did you ask me that? Right. Sorry. No, I didn't. I will get right on it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;And then you look like a big stupid bumbling idiot who can't remember important things. Newsflash: I wasn't told the important thing. ARG. It makes me angry. I need a better system ~ like a big white board, or a big jotter/notebook that I carry EVERYWHERE. Except I tried it once and the ones not sharing important stuff weren't writing it down either. Damned either way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;I am having an angry day today. I feel stupid and annoyed and frustrated and I keep disappearing ~ being almost sucked back in. I know that someone is intent on switching. I'm not though, and I am trying my darndest to stay here, all the tricks I know. I hope I don't get booted out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;Is that likely? Quite likely yes. For two reasons ~ I resist, so when someone wants to be out and they push hard enough *poof* I am gone again. But mostly because my 3 year old is being baby sat this afternoon ~ and the alters usually (by that I mean always) feel that they should have free reign at this time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;It all stinks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;By the way, I am on the lookout for other people with DID who blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 255);"&gt;Have a happy hysteria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-7373790259323560498?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/7373790259323560498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=7373790259323560498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/7373790259323560498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/7373790259323560498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/heydid-you-remember-to.html' title='Hey...Did you remember to..?'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-4097960472495435971</id><published>2009-10-27T16:47:00.002+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T16:59:44.707+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stuck watching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amnesia'/><title type='text'>The Amnesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;I was reading another blog the other day, and I felt so sad for this person and what they are going through. I thought to myself..OMG how could I live through that? How could I cope with that? What would it be like to have those memories, thoughts, issues, reminders every day? I thought to myself..thank God my life is nothing like that and How on earth can I help?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then as I was thinking those things comes a torrent of angry thoughts and feelings from other alters... "we have gone through stuff, we have handled things, we have experienced that which no person should ever experience" "Our situation is different but we have issues too..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its true. I know "we" do. Except most of them, I don't have to live with everyday. See the beauty and curse of DID is that you can't remember because it didnt happen to you. Sometimes it makes life a tinsy bit easier - since for me, I dont have to freak out all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its other alters - when they are out on their own or with me that are hypersensitive, get migraines, shake constantly, throw up and gag alot, bite their fingers, self-harm etc. But not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is the Major down sides. Being DID means that most of my life is blocked out. If someone rings to catch up and says "Remember the time when...." well guess what? I don't. It wasnt me. Now i can quickly check through the files, and ask whoever is around if they have any details - but whatever information or pictures are given to me are borrowed. Its like talking about a movie you've seen. You never really experienced it yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a whole life that I wasn't present for. And that is a fantastic thing and a terrible thing all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-4097960472495435971?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/4097960472495435971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=4097960472495435971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4097960472495435971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/4097960472495435971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/amnesia.html' title='The Amnesia'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-1165573933285438949</id><published>2009-10-25T18:22:00.003+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T09:21:25.905+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='definitions'/><title type='text'>Definitions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So here you are wondering what is DID? - well I had better add some links and explanations for those of you who don't know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" href="http://www.health.qld.gov.au/pahospital/mentalhealth/docs/did.pdf"&gt;Qld Health Pamplet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt; : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;Dissociation is a mental process where there is a lack of connection between, thoughts, feelings, actions or sense of identity. This disconnection is termed splitting and exists at a sub-conscious level. The process of dissociation exists on a continuum. Mild dissociation experiences are common such as daydreaming or ‘highway hypnosis’, where a person drives from ‘A’ to ‘B’ but does not remember the details of the journey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;What is Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID/MPD)?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;DID/MPD is the severe and chronic experience at the opposite end of the spectrum. The dissociative process may lead to discrete states that can take on identities of their own. These states are called ‘alternate personalities’ or ‘alters’ and are internal members of the ‘system’. Changes between these personalities, or states of consciousness, are described as ‘switching’. This behaviour was an originally adaptive, healthy reaction to intolerable situations. However, in adult life dissociative behaviours can be problematic. People living with DID/MPD have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), in fact it has been suggested that DID/MPD is itself a chronic form of PTSD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;What Causes DID/MPD?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;DID/MPD is developed during childhood, before seven years of age, during the sensitive time that the individual’s personality is being formed. It is the result of:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;• Ongoing and severe neglect and abuse (emotional, physical and/or sexual)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;• Trauma (such as witnessing the death of a parent, war)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;• Ritual/Satanic abuse (the condition is deliberately induced by cults to produce compliance and amnesia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;Evidence suggests that people living with DID/MPD have a biological predisposition for auto-hypnotic phenomena, a high level of hypnotisability.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;Another Description from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" href="http://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/bhcv2/bhcarticles.nsf/pages/Dissociation_and_dissociative_disorders?open"&gt;Victorian Health&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;"Dissociative identity disorder&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt; ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt; The condition typically involves the coexistence of two or more personality states within the same person. While the different personality states influence the person’s behaviour, the person is usually not aware of these personality states and experiences them as memory lapses. The other states may have different body language, voice tone, outlook on life and memories. The person may switch to another personality state when under stress. A person who has dissociative identity disorder almost always has dissociative amnesia too."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Thats all I will say for now. It's been a long day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-1165573933285438949?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1165573933285438949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=1165573933285438949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/1165573933285438949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/1165573933285438949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/so-here-you-are-wondering-what-is-did.html' title='Definitions'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-9109709089572178586</id><published>2009-10-23T09:37:00.004+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T10:13:11.236+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stuck watching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money worry'/><title type='text'>Worry Warts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now how about this for freaky. I am currently calm and composed. I have bucket loads of work to get through - and yet... my whole body is shaking and my mind is being screamed at with 50 million decibels of worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You know when you have a panic attack or a stress session, its scary and upsetting and you can get very caught up in it all, with no way out. Well it seems a number of alters are experiencing just that. Except --- I'm Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem, today, revolves around money. Who's problems don't, seriously? Anyway.. We have an alter who is extremely and I mean 'to the point of total meltdown' susceptible to any mention of money worries. This alter goes nuts. This alter weighs up household items to sell, considers not eating or using power for two months, scours all the jobs in the area and wonders if they will have to sleep in the car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that can happen, and I am quite aware that it is reality for far too many people today and that they show extraordinary strength in continuing on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, in our case this is completely unfounded. We are nowhere near that point - we will need to be AWARE of money and conscious not to spend when unnecessary - but the absolute strength of her fear takes us over. We end up with migraines and stomach pains. She is a strong projector.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;The funny part for me is it's like being stuck in a movie, or a room with a nutcase - I can see all this and feel all this - and it is happening in the mind and body I share - but I dont share the sentiments or the fear. My appathy and apparent lack of concern generally only agravate the situation, but sometimes I can't help it. I want to get things done - not be crippled by baseless fears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SuDz_05mH4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/fGPBVkkK6xU/s1600-h/DeM-Hope-despair-L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SuDz_05mH4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/fGPBVkkK6xU/s200/DeM-Hope-despair-L.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395580631447379842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Image from &lt;a href="http://www.caersidi.net/livejournal/art/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for this alter, those things are real. She handled it when there was nothing.. even as a child when there was no anything and need to scramble for anything and scrimp and be extra vigilant. She handled it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;OOOO this is all so mixed up....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-9109709089572178586?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/9109709089572178586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=9109709089572178586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/9109709089572178586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/9109709089572178586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/worry-warts.html' title='Worry Warts'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/SuDz_05mH4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/fGPBVkkK6xU/s72-c/DeM-Hope-despair-L.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6034649084348604427</id><published>2009-10-19T19:09:00.008+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T15:53:16.737+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lovers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ultimate Reign'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kasey'/><title type='text'>OMG - I would NEVER do that</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/St6hl3urCGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_m-oIggreeQ/s1600-h/spaceball.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 1px; height: 1px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/St6hl3urCGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_m-oIggreeQ/s200/spaceball.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394927075623372898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;I had a phone call today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you about something that is unique to DID's sufferers - well so I imagine anyway - cant think of anyone else who might end up in this situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a phone call today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;This person, whom I (Sam) worked with in my year of ultimate reign, (This is how I will refer to the year when I was in full and total control of the body only co-conscious with one other alter, Kasey. No one else had any jurisdiction over &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my &lt;/span&gt;life at all) wanted to get in touch with me to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/cindy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;Said person and I flirted outrageously at that time when I was single and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;apparently &lt;/span&gt;"I" contacted them last year and expressed my dissatisfaction with my partner and interest in setting up a liason (as such). I asked how long ago was that, joking to make it sound authentic, and it was about 15 months ago. So 15 months ago an alter was trying to cheat on my partner. Our partner. This person was in a relationship at that time and is single now, and looking to 'catch-up'. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it is very difficult to maintain the masquerade that is a dissociative mind. How do you explain to someone that you didn't actually proposition them. That you would never in a million years consider cheating on your wonderful partner. But that yes, it was you, sounded like you, came from your mouth? I had to lie of course, to maintain the facade. "My partner and I are fine now... it was a little fling... I am really busy... happy with my life".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now most of that is correct, except the fling. I am completely happy and in love with my partner and very busy. And he says he will keep in touch blah blah blah.... I say sure, great to catch up, call me next year, drop me an email or something. No plans to meet, no plans to do anything. No real discussion of his single status or personal life. Just work and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I feel disgusting and dirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it is unrealistic to imagine that all alters of a person would fall in love with or even remotely like the one person. But she wanted to cheat. To hurt. To throw away what they have. And that makes me sick. I pain for my partner. He knew about it all. She (the alter who did this) told him. To hurt him I think. I don't know. He told me all about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said "it (our relationship) lost some of it's sparkle after that".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch. I did that. I feel like I was kicked in the stomach. How did he feel at the time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he forgives me, because it wasn't me. But it was, wasn't it? I have no recollection. No emotion attached to the images and stream of events that i have been given from the other alters. It wasn't me. But it still hurts. And I know it hurt my lover. I hate having alters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6034649084348604427?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6034649084348604427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6034649084348604427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6034649084348604427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6034649084348604427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/omg-i-would-never-do-that.html' title='OMG - I would NEVER do that'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lTnDhnevTFk/St6hl3urCGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_m-oIggreeQ/s72-c/spaceball.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-6600774497709761427</id><published>2009-10-15T16:42:00.007+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T15:33:07.147+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life plans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blackness'/><title type='text'>Thats Life Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;Ok, So I am happy with my one post blog so far - and I am quite skeptical that anyone will ever read it, but that's okay. I guess this is as much for us as it is for anyone of you out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me that blogs are to speak about what's going on with you personally - like a chat to a friend, except that I don't speak about myselves alot and the reasons are fairly obvious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;I have become quite comfortable with the fact that I am an alter - that I am part of many people. In fact, I have only been back as a personality for a few months now. I held the body for over a year back about 5 years ago - and then I was pushed out. Into the blackness, only allowed back when some other personality required information, and then only for a moment. But that is beside the topic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;What I wanted to talk about now was me stuff. Just me. So what's going on with me? Well I am trying to get this life back into a shape that I like - which is hard when you are fighting with other people who actually have just as much say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;Here's what I have done in the past few months:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;Begun a better eating plan&lt;br /&gt;Begun regular walking (to tone up the flabby bits - they are EVERYWHERE)&lt;br /&gt;Started up my own E-Store&lt;br /&gt;Reinvigorated the Old E-Store that was set up by another Alter&lt;br /&gt;Purchased much nicer clothing&lt;br /&gt;Thrown myself at my wonderful partner&lt;br /&gt;And generally continued on in life so no-one really notices that I am a completely different individual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;What's been hard about being thrown back in this life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;This life now is soooo different to the one I got removed from. I was a single working girl, studying at night and partying on the weekends. I rented a cute little one bedroom flat and had just met the love of my life. I had no responsibilites, no debts - just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;And now... I have a house in an urban area, a young daughter, a fiance (still the wonderful hunk that "I" found) no secular job, and I don't study anything. Life is filled with motherly duties and taking care of things, responsibilities and dull, frumpy clothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);"&gt;Honestly it was liking waking up in my own personal nightmare. Dissociative Identity Disorder is such a bitch sometimes. Anyway - I am pushing on and attempting to live life how it is now... lets all pray I can keep it up...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-6600774497709761427?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/6600774497709761427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=6600774497709761427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6600774497709761427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/6600774497709761427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/ok-so-i-am-happy-with-my-one-post-blog.html' title='Thats Life Now'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6055690653418860781.post-1389908660384028633</id><published>2009-10-14T16:47:00.000+10:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T16:59:10.492+10:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><title type='text'>New Idea</title><content type='html'>Our Blog ~ or I should say ~ My Blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am living with something called Dissociative Identity Disorder DID - (formerly called Multiple Personality Disorder or MPD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it whatever you like - but it means that I am never alone. I can never just be me. There is always someone else's thoughts, desires, wants and needs pushing into what I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, you say. So what, you say. You have to be a hermit to avoid that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True ~ except in our case ~ all the people are on the inside. I look normal. I have a normal face, normal body ~ 2 legs etc. And yet I have to share a body with a variety of other people - many whom I seem to have nothing in common with (except the obvious ie. the body).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways... I want to blog about it for the following reasons ~&lt;br /&gt;1. I personally think that Blogs are a fantastic form of self-expression&lt;br /&gt;2. I really need to get my head around being DID and accepting it and all its crappy facets&lt;br /&gt;3. Maybe if I write it and put it out there for real, maybe it won't be so hard to accept myself for what we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Thats it for now except an introduction ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, my name is Sam ~ short for Samantha, And this is MY BLOG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6055690653418860781-1389908660384028633?l=masqueradedmind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/feeds/1389908660384028633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6055690653418860781&amp;postID=1389908660384028633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/1389908660384028633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6055690653418860781/posts/default/1389908660384028633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://masqueradedmind.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-idea.html' title='New Idea'/><author><name>Sam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01699629254822297581</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
