Hummingbird's Tale of MPD (MPD=Multiple Personalities Disorder) Little Girl Lost I am going to let you know a little about myself, but I warn you that it is not a pretty story, it is a story about abuse during the first 21 years of my life. There is no sugar coating what happened in my early childhood. I can remember the abuse started when I was very young, sometime when I was just a toddler. These are the earliest memories, I could have been younger, I don't know. My father sexually, emotionally, physically, mentally and ritualistically abused me. For those of you that do not know what ritualistic abuse is, it is through a Satanist Cult or Abuse that is reoccurring all of the time. My brother as well as my eldest sister also abused me in the same manner as my father. Where, you may ask, was my mother? In denial, as she still is to this day. Five years ago when my father died, I was so confused. I didn't know if I should applaud because of his death or cry. The child within me wanted to cry for all that she had missed and would never have with my father. I see my husband playing with my daughter, normally, and I just cry. Sometimes jealous because of their relationship. How I wish I would have had this kind of relationship with my father, but this was not to be. When he died, you could say I had a nervous breakdown. I had disowned him and finally gotten my father out of my life before he died. The primary reason for refusing contact with him was because he would still call me up on the phone and tell me that he knew that I enjoyed what he did to me when I was a child. I had to change my phone number. It finally came down to writing him a letter and telling him if he did not stop harassing me, that my lawyer would contact him. I had to threaten to sue him not only for the harassment, but also for the abuse that I had endured over the years. My father was a detective. He worked homicide and the vice squad. This is one way that he threatened my family and kept us in line and primarily kept us from telling what was going on. Well, who are people going to believe? This upstanding citizen who is doing great things for his community, or his family. So, there was nothing but quiet and silence in my house. We didn't even talk about the abuse around the house. I was not the only one abused, my mother and other four siblings were abused too. But, for some reason he picked me out of the rest. I was known as his princess. I am of American Native Indian Heritage, and for being from this heritage, at a young age I had very blonde hair, which was very unusual. My mother was not allowed to cut my hair. I remember one time that she did and she was beat for it. My father raped me at the age of three. When I started menstruating he stopped raping me, but would still beat me and still make me do sexual acts to him. I still have flashbacks of the horrendous things he has done to me. He had locked me in the cellar time and again. Or he would put me in what we called the cat cage. We used to breed Siamese cats and the new litters were put in these cages, three foot by two foot with just a screen where the door was and this is one of the ways he would punish me. It didn't matter that I was lying in feces or that maybe there were dead kittens in there with me. As he put it, it was for my own good. He even watched one time as one of his friends raped me. After his friend had raped me, I knew then that the silence must continue and that if anything was said that I would be beat, possibly to death. This rape by his friend did not occur when I was a child. It happened after I had married my first husband and already had a child of my own. This is how much control my father had over me. But, I think this is what finally woke me up and gave me strength to break free. My husband at the tie was very good friends with my father and would not believe a thing that I told him regarding the abuse. So, I decided it was time to run, to move on. I went to a divorce lawyer, filed for divorce, looked for an apartment the same day, went home got my child and left. I took just the bare necessities with us. Just enough that I could start my child's and my life over again. Yes, my son and I went through a lot with trying to get back on our feet. But, I was away from my abuser and a person that would not support and help me get away from him or the abuse. During this period of time, though, my father would still call, still come over and I had to keep the chains on the door at all times or try to convince him to leave. This is where the best thing in my life happened to me. My husband Gary came into my life. He was unaware at this time of the abuse that my father had inflicted on me. We dated for three years, got married and moved to Colorado. This is where he really found out about the abuse. My father would call me very early in the mornings like at two or three o'clock and harass me over the phone. My father was very good at manipulating people and was until the day he died. I won't go into the years in between, but when he did die, is when I started having all of the conflicting emotions. As I said before, I didn't know whether to applaud or cry. I started having flashbacks, which take you back to the time that you were abused and you smell, feel, hear, see everything that happened. It is like you are completely going through it all over again. If it had not been for my husband Gary, I would not have gotten through this part of my life. He is the one that has truly saved me from leaving this earth. He has stood by me and has gone to all of my therapy sessions with me. He has missed a total of two sessions and the only reason he couldn't be there then is he was out of town, otherwise he would of been there trying to help and better understand how one human can inflict such pain upon another. He has always wanted to know what I went through so he could better understand. So that he would be able to help me more efficiently. What a blessing our Creator has sent me. Because of all of the abuse I suffered, I developed what is called MPD (Multiple Personality Disorder). What this means is I have other beings or persons living within me. Myself personally, and I have over one hundred other wonderful women, and a couple of men, who have stood by my side all of these years and have helped protect me, taken the abuse as I faded away. Yet, at the same time, on of "myselves" as I like to call them, tried to kill me. Audrey decided she had had enough and took pills and tried to get rid of the pain through death. My husband found me called 911 and the next thing I knew I was having my stomach pumped. After seeing the look on his face, with tears and all of the love in his eyes, I have tried to really work on integrating all of the girls so that this would never happen again. I would never want to do something ever to hurt the person whom I love most in this world, my wonderful loving husband Gary and who is not only my helpmate, but truly my soul mate in this world. I have Agoraphobia and physical problems because of the abuse I received as a child. I don't expect pity or any kind of special attention for the things I went through. The reason I am telling my story is to reach out to those that have gone through the same thing, and I know there are thousands of just not women, but men, who have gone through the same abuse as I have. I have not given a lot of the specifics, because I really don't think that they are necessary and because I refuse to have a pity party. But, I am here to help whomever I can, this is the reason for my becoming involved with the Internet in the first place. I have written a poem, which has been published and I wanted to share it with you because it really explains things that I find difficult to say! Little Girl Lost This is a story I would like to tell. It is a story of a little girl lost, not physically lost, but she had a lost soul. This little girl, was abused by her father, who was supposed to be a great man in his world. But this great man would make this beautiful little girl, with beautiful golden hair, do things that little girls were not expected or supposed to do. This little lost girl, broke into other pieces, and each one has a name. Each one of these pieces have always been there to protect her, and keep her away from the pain and the shame. The pieces have names, that are beautiful and strong! Grace, Audrey, Monique, Scout, Clarie and Alexis. They are her best friends and have protected her, from the great man. The man was great in his world, but not in ours. He was great outside of us, but made us keep horrendous and horrible secrets. The secrets grew though the years as the abuse got worse, a mother in denial not wanting to know, that such things could happen to someone that she had born. The little girl grew to be the woman she is today, searching her soul and not knowing why. Until one day when the great man dies, she is really confused but does not know how to cry. She cries for the little girl who was lost in the past. She cries for the great man that was supposed to be her dad. She cries for the others that have seen the same pain, but is going on with her life and she will no longer feel the pain or the shame. The little girl lost, is finding her way. For now she is a Survivor and a Survivor she'll stay. Now that she is a Survivor the pieces are whole and all of us are wanting, to reach out and show the other lost souls, that there is help and support. I am here, with wings open wide, which will envelope them all to show them that they will hurt never more. So come with me and I'll envelope you in my wings, where I can fly away with you and save your little lost souls. Hummingbird This poem was written by me when I had first started finding that I had alters, these were the first six and the strongest alters that I have. They have all integrated now and I am progressing with my healing. For those of you going through abuse, know that there is always someone out there that would like to help you, to see you heal and be free. Back -or- Home