The Deamons Among Us

Learning how to Love Yourself Part 2

Everyone ends up in deep conflict once in a while. But rarely does one end up in a full-fledged battle with themselves. Not me, I was in an ugly battle for my life with myself.

You know how family conflicts turn ugly? Take that and intensify it by a factor of a hundred and that might come close. I found out first hand just how shitty I can be. I am not a fair fighter. When the cause is important enough, nothing is barred, nothing is fair. I was an evil bitch. Just as weird as it sounds to me still, the bitch I was being too was myself.

Isa and Autumn are much like sisters in personality. Isa is my love, sensuality and emotional side. Autumn is my hard nose, logical, protector and feeler of all the ugly emotions. And me, well I was asleep. Shhh, I may be whole now but I can still break into my parts and talk still. Weird how that turned out.

And like any family of sisters, the fights are all too often over a man. And this was the case. I was in a fight over my husband, over my poly family and later on over my involvement in M/s relationships. Autumn was angry as hell. Not only did she not agree with my marriage, she didn’t trust my choice. It was she who was picking a ton of battles. In singleton speech; I was conflicted and unsure of my choices.

My husband is a man with flaws but a good man. And he was tossed into a situation without all the knowledge that would have helped us out. I couldn’t give him what I didn’t know. So when there were moments that Autumn would peak and lash out, he would be at a loss. Not only did I not know what happened, I wouldn’t remember. It was a crazy making time. Isa was often hurt emotional because she would catch the brunt of the consequences of Autumn’s actions. And Isa’s pain would inflame Autumn’s anger. It is a vicious cycle that had to be broken.

And what stress would create this crazy making cycle, you ask? Poly.

About nine years ago, I found my dear boy and his wife. I’ve known him since we were in high school. He was the one I let go and yet he was the one that got away. He is the father of my angel baby. I had a lot of emotions that I had vet to processed at all. After he left me and moved away, I boxed up his memory and tossed it in the back of my mind, deep into the shadows. My feelings couldn’t hurt me anymore. I could barely remember them.

He was once the one who’s word was my law. And I was only sixteen, physically.

Back then, I had no clue about Domination and submission. It came naturally to me and it scared the hell out of me. For what is this strange power to speak and then I lose my will to go against what he said? Worse, that even actively trying to disobey would have me crumbled down into a heap on the spot? It terrified me. And I hid as best I could my reaction to him. This was craziness. Why would I obey?

So when he came back into my life, I was a married women with a child. My husband knew my past with him. He could remember things where I could not. And I was like a moth to a flame. I could not deny I would do anything to get my dear boy back. In fact I did everything I could to do just that. Even ignore the hurt I was causing my husband.

That’s how the war began. Between compromise and unyielding desire; the players were set. The pawns were moving across the table and the queen sat protected by her king.

Autumn came out more often and picked fights with my husband. And Isa would run away on weekends into the safety of him who’s word was once law. Actually his word was still law. It took me a very long time learning how to say ‘no’ before I could shake it. To this day I have to actively use ‘no’ when dealing with him. Distance has made things easier as well as having a Master. But in person, it’s an effort.

I was tearing my marriage apart, on purpose. Autumn does not forget nor does she forgive. She is unyielding once set on her purpose. Oh Dreamwaker; this is why I asked about how to learn to forgive.

I was out of control. My blackouts were frequent, hours out of a day, weeks at a time. Home was full of emotions that I couldn’t figure out. Bitterness and hurt hang in the air like perfume.

One weekend I was with my boy and his wife and Autumn got caught out. Not only are my alters split on emotional lines, they are split on skills too. Isa is the writer. Autumn is my art, my gamer, my logic. And she was needed to do a job. My boy knows me well, too well. “Who are you?’ Caught what no one had ever caught and as such I could not switch back to deflect the answer because it was he who’s word was law. I must answer. I speak words which never before spoken “Autumn” and switched in the blink of an eye.

We all had a very long conversation with him. I’m still not sure all that was said. There is a wall still in the memory of that conversation. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to believe him. This I already knew but I sure as hell didn’t want this to be real. I thought if no one had ever noticed and confronted me, then it was just all in my head. Those voices were just figments of my over active imagination. I could live with the fear of being crazy and do my best to work on not being so. I could control myself. I must control myself. Ha! What a lesson to learn. I could not control what I refused to acknowledge.

The dam was breached and the floodwaters were rushing in. The voices were back. This time they weren’t going to accept getting boxed away. They weren’t gonna take my refusal of their existence. Quite frankly, there is nothing more shocking than getting slapped in the face. I had lost control over the most basic of things; my body. Autumn was strong enough to steal body parts at her will.

Becoming co-conscious was both familiar and weird at the same time. Instead of having my angel and deamon on my shoulder, I was instead the angel with a deamon and a very drunk, rude and crass man who could make her laugh on her shoulder. The I that I once was, was deeper inside sleeping in a grave only chiming out my age, an age that had no relation to my physical age. I had been emotional stunted at 12 and had remained that way.

I had died at 12 and my body lived. I know this know now. I even know when this happened. I know when the angel came out as primary. I gave up at 12. I had went catatonic once and wanted to sleep, see nothing more of this world, escape the abuse and be done. Except I blinked my eyes open at the end of the day and I got up. We were once a co-conscious system way before then. It was confusing as the voices were gone and I wasn’t sure what happened. I simply carried on. My angel, my Isa carried on with my life. Autumn took the abuse and kept it from Isa. And Jay, that crazy man in me would steal the memories, box them up and sit on them. Asking my age, was always a bit of confusion. It was the only clue that something wasn’t right for even Jay stole the memory of being split.

The first steps to healing is accepting there is a problem. The second is figuring out what to do about it. Of course I hit the books and read everything I could about this physiological condition. Even in that, I know I’m a bit weirder than most who claim DID. The core was build twice each with different rules. The maxim we had lived under was simple; “don’t get caught.” Fear was real and the consequences of being caught was frighteningly real. I was a child of seven afraid that I was deamon possessed, of being banished from her home, afraid of hellfire, afraid of seeing the dejection in her mother’s eyes if she knew her daughter had deamons inside her. The second time being built, the maxim was simpler “keep moving forward.” Hellfire had nothing on her as she lived in hell everyday.

To be continued…

Part one

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About Isabella LeCour

She is nothing more than the collections of thoughts placed into the virtual worlds. She is a poet, a mother, a lover, many things to different people. But mostly, she is nothing but smoke and mirrors - some ethereal thing that blinks in an out of existence.
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  1. Pingback: Learning how to Love Yourself. | Seeking Sanctuary

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