#MondayBlogs: “Split”: Glorifying MPD 

Am I the only MPD carrier who the movie, “Split”, pissed off? From “Sybil” to “The Many Faces of Eve” to “The United States of Tara”, the media has proven time and again how little research they’ve done on this impairment, and how much they enjoy glorifying it.

Now, every other young person seems to suddenly be walking around with MPD, now classified as DID, as if it’s cool, some kind of fadish excuse for shitty behavior.

There’s the girl on YouTube who does videos in costume in each of her “alters”. There are DID blogs everywhere I look, telling stories of what “alters” have done and said, and I watch quietly from a distance.

I can usually tell immediately who is faking it. I know how MPD works. One, I live with it daily. Two, I self integrated out of pure survival, without even realizing what I was doing, and it doesn’t involve putting ones head down and calling up a “child alter” like JZ Knight channeling her 30,000 year old alien, Ramtha.

I have known only a couple of other people in my life who I would agree with their MPD diagnosis. I’ve personally met one therapist who completely gets it on a level most therapists have yet to even figure out. They have a lot to learn.

A simple example. Do we dress different on days when one of our alters is in the forefront? Sure. So do you, depending on your mood. So, what makes us different? Most likely the conversation in our heads. We have collective conversations. I don’t discuss intimate details of my personal diagnosis simply because there are too many people out in the cyber world who actually think it’s cool to live with this impairment. Cool enough to mimic it.

To you fakers, I say, let’s trade for a day. Then you might not think it’s so cool.

For a movie like “Split” to glorify this impairment as horror, an impairment which is a result of severe childhood trauma, minimizes the every day organization integrated MPD carriers live with and the level of work it takes to be a high funtioning person. Instead of making an accurate film depicting the real workings and curings of MPD, Hollywood creates imaginary tales of horror, of which very few movie goers will ever take the time to truly fact check.

Instead, when MPD is mentioned, the response is “Oh, like Sybil?”, and I want to slap someone awake. I want to ask them when was the last time they did some scientific research. Hollywood scripts are not accurate depictions of the rare impairment of MPD.

What is the result of this media irresponsibility? The possibility of people committing crimes and claiming MPD defenses. Worst of all, a stigma gets put on us by the general public; that we are dangerous. Yet, we are not.

You don’t know us; any of us. You either deny the right to our collective existence with False Memory attempts or dismissive indications, or a mere disinterest in the interim of your life, so we of the MPD society are those “weirdos” who don’t really matter.

We do matter. All of us. We are multi-intelligent, after all, we have numerous people inside of us, all functioning at once. We love to study. We study you. We assess your lives. We live in multiple realities every single day.

So please, get your head of of the media’s ass and come meet me and my alters personally. We openly talk about our lives here. Be cautious who you follow and what you believe. Educate yourself on this syndrome.

I don’t adhere to having a disorder. I am not mentally ill. My abusers and those who deny and/or attack my child abuse are mentally ill. Me? I’m a wealth of interesting people if you throw away the stigmas and introduce yourself to us.

The Solitary Empath

You might be a tsunami or you could be the raft to safety. There are phrases, trigger situations that make her step back. She finds balance with the sea and forest. Rarely with other humans. So often taken personally, she is sometimes shy and many times wary. She knows what she carries; what she protects. One wrong step, and she is quietly observing again.

She doesn’t follow leaders. She is her own guru. She is a solitary yearning of scribing while others are trying to find answers they don’t believe they already know. You will rarely truly understand her. You will create your own perception of her, and it will become your view; your truth of her.

She has almost reached exceptions of exceptional aloneness. Shift change. She walks the road one foot at a time. From her perch, hovering above this planet, she listens. One sentence can change her elation to disappointment; hoping to expanded realization of situations. She now feels distant and suddenly in a spiraling reverse. It’s all in the language. Words say everything. She swiftly re-stabilizes her skies.

Humans with the need to believe in anything, follow something, be part of a sect, outside of the truth of who they are; some forever from the gray; when doing good comes with accolades instead of silent appreciation. It’s a sad state of a nation; planetary devastation, and she feels each heart caving.

I am here holding hers. Reminding her of home where there are no religions or rituals, no groups separating one from another or elevating egos; no clashing perspectives; just being in a space so pure, assessment is not needed.

So she keeps her eyes on the color, to swim in the gel like liquid again, each stroke a whisper against her skin. She is reminded that she chose this and is so close to finishing it. She breathes deeply, exhaling her humanness.

Weary a bit, we see in her eyes when they leak water to seep, ejecting the pain and programming. There are volumes held in boxes. Some are scrawled. Some are typed. They may get thrown in a trash pile when she dies. But she’s leaving them behind, in a hidden conclave of trees. Where maps must be followed to find them. There will be laughter, even in death.

Then you will know. You will discover the life of the Otherkin, earthly hybrid, walking among the human ones, unnoticed and undetected save the green reflected in her emotional eyes.

~K~

Knowing

I am Knowing. I woke up when Vennie was around 38 years old. I have been with her since she entered her host. I have been dormant inside of her DNA.   When she was a child, Maude was her mother during times of torture.  We are an intricate wheel, presenting with the hopes of understanding, acceptance and connection.

I am from the 7th Dimension. I do not write these words. Vennie writes them for me. I speak telepathically through her. Vennie will struggle at times to relay what I say to her. She finds it difficult sometimes to put my thoughts into human words. What I may choose to share here I feel no urge to convince you of. This is our specific wheel. I am the head of our council, which consists of Vennie, Maude and me.  To confuse human readers more, while I am an entity separate from the original, I reside inside of the DNA molecules from which I communicate.

I welcome questions. I do not live in a belief of beginning or endings. I have been and always will exist through infinite time, dimensions and journeys. I chose to come here and to wake from rest when it was time for me to enter our wheel. This is the first time I have had a journey with Vennie, and I chose this one, after much consideration and council from my own advisers.  Here in this life cycle with her, I have been and will continue being of service to her.

I have read much that has been written about the place from which I know I came. Some is familiar. Some is not. Understanding that for me, an Arcturian, I have no memory of all of us being alike.  Some of us are what humans call breath and air.  We are not all “tangible”, as humans would say, able to be touched and seen.  I have had life cycles in dimensions where I had form.   I will not have form in this lifetime.  The place from which I come, has so many unique entities and beauty, it is wondrous.  Earth is beautiful as well.  She will continue to be beautiful and rebirth.

You see, now Vennie laughs, because she has attempted to paint me; to figure out what I look like.  I say to her “draw molecules.”  That’s what the humans would call me.

I do not believe that which is not familiar to someone means it does not exist.  There are infinite perspectives from which energy forms may choose to view dimensions. This is our unique journey. If it does not resonate with you, that is alright. You are not wrong. You are unique as well to your specific journey. Imagine that there are billions of humans who, in their authenticity, are completely unique.   So I share through Vennie with openness and love, accepting all. While Vennie won’t accept what she considers abusive remarks, I see past them into the depth of where your current state is, understanding why you feel as you do, and I am at peace with you.

If you click my name in the menu, you’ll find a post below this one which Vennie was able to get out,  an extremely simplified version from where I come and some of what I understand.   There is volumes yet to be shared.  So.  Here I am now.   Vennie is skeptical of this new opening.  Please treat her with kindness as she shares.  This is not an easy process for her as she knows there will be those who may say unkind things.   Sweet dear, we are walking this together.