Faking it

I guess one of the things is, for lots of the parts, our entire job has been to fake normal. And with me, a lot of that is, acting like there's nothing wrong, or at least, not letting people get close enough to see.

I've been around more, since the little kids "locked up" most of the adult parts. But I kind of operate stealth-fashion. And I guess part of the problem is, I don't know for sure who I am. I mean, obviously, the default answer is, we're all the same person. But it's not exactly like that. And I'm not one of the ones who got acknowledged or named.

Mostly, that's ok with me. I feel very uncomfortable admitting that I'm a separate part. I don't like people to notice when I come in and out, because that's not what's supposed to happen. But in therapy we're talking about stuff, and, I don't know, I have been feeling a little awkward about the fact that when my therapist thinks she's just seeing one person, the adult, the "host" or whatever, she's actually had a conversation with two or three parts, not all of whom have a clear idea of what we've been talking about.

It's easier with the little kids. They're more sure it's okay to be out, or at least they've been learning. And it's easier to tell a little kid from an adult, you know? Particularly since even though I guess I'm more of a teenager, it's really hard for me to understand or explain how it is that I'm not really grown up.

I kind of use the things the Analyst did, and figure things out. I know where most of my memories come from--high school, mostly, although some in middle school, kind of, I don't know, fading in.

There are things I feel uncomfortable that I did, but I still can't think of better ways. I mean, maybe things would have gone easier if I hadn't been working so hard to hide everything. But I still can't see how that would have worked. And it's hard for me still to realize that maybe even if people did know about what happened, they wouldn't think there was something wrong with me because of it.

Some of it is because my family is poor. Trashy. I feel guilty about that, like I should be doing something differently, I don't know. Like if people find out about that, then they'll think I'm like that too. Hard to talk to people about that, but there are parts that have, and I guess it's ok. Except it's not.

It feels like something to be ashamed of, like the other bad stuff was because of the trashiness. And even though I know it wasn't something I could change, there's still a feeling of being ashamed of it. And wanting to hide. I don't like people to know about all of that. I don't like to think about the reasons that I'm all split up and divided inside, like that makes me dirty and disgusting.

I'm kind of working on that. It's hard, and part of what's hard is, I feel like I should already know this. I guess I even knew it a little back then, not that it did any good. I wasn't especially good at passing, except that people don't really look, you know? I guess partly because other people had a lot more going on in their own lives, and partly that I didn't fit the picture of someone with "problems at home." Didn't cut. Didn't skip school. Looked like I was different by choice, and not just because I couldn't manage to be like the other kids.

Mostly, I spent my time alone. Read a lot. Had superficial friendships, although maybe they just felt superficial to me. I didn't let myself out, or get close to people. Really, mostly, none of my parts have. It's kind of lonely, but better that than being found out.

Not sure what the point of this post is, but I may as well post it anyhow. Kind of working on that, letting people in some more. Of course, I'm also terrified of what will happen if someone in my family reads this, but I guess with what's already there, I've got nothing to lose.

I'd sign this, but I have to admit I'm not exactly sure who I am.