my secret sister
i was the second of four female children. but my closest sister lives in my head.
o, how do i start this post?
do i give you, the anonymous reader, of whom i should not assume either knowledge or ignorance, a lecture on what dissociative disorders are?
do i list my trauma again and let you figure out how you feel about it?
do i find a way to make it art and just show you some pictures instead of writing, my primary strength?
okay. let’s try this.
i was the second of four female children. but my closest sister lives in my head.
she’s almost always with me, unless she’s asleep while i’m awake (which doesn’t happen often). she cheers me on and helps keep my head straight about things. she teases me like any sibling would. she hates my exes more than i do. she washes my hair in the bath. i love her very much.
it’s weird to talk about her, because according to most people she’s “not real”. but she’s more than real to me. she affects almost every aspect of my life, except where she gives me some privacy. (she’s not really interested in my partners, for instance.) she’s always saying something about what’s going on, making jokes, or trying to comfort me. she loves me more than anyone else does and that’s helped me love myself. she’s been there through all of my struggles and helped me every step of the way.
she’s not some universally wise, good, all-knowing being or anything like that. she’s flawed. she’s an asshole sometimes. she holds grudges like i do, or worse. she can be insecure and jealous sometimes. she’s got a sadistic streak. but she knows right from wrong and she knows how to care about people.
you’re welcome to reach out to her or any/all of us up here in my head via the contact form, just be descriptive in your message. her name is Lilly, because she’s the funny one.
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