Raggedy Kids

inside me are a collection of raggedy kids

 

I caught a glimpse of the old Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome movie on satellite last night, and briefly had a powerful feeling like I was looking in the mirror.  I wanted to pause the picture and gather all my family around me and shout, “This is what I look like on the inside!  Look!  Look!  It’s just like ME!”

The scene I saw was similar to the one above/below — eight to twelve scraggly, raggedy kids with outdoorsy looks and (mostly) light brown hair – all of various ages, but all under 16 or so.  Except that all but one of mine are female, and most are under 8 years old.  There are only 3 teens (Vivian, Angelique, and Sasha) and 2 semi-adults (The Sad One/Caretaker, and Babe/The Nice One [that's me]).  I don’t even KNOW how many are under 8 — about 8, I am guessing — but the littlest ones don’t come out — and especially do not write — without a “sponsor” or a “chaperone” – someone older, overseeing their interactions with this “real world” out here.  So there is confusing overlap…

 

this is what my multiple personalities kinda look like

 

I actually remember feeling almost homesick when I watched this movie for the first time, back in the mid-1980′s.  There was something so home-like, so familiar, so sad — seeing the village of children with no adults to lead, protect, and guide them.  The children had to do everything themselves.  Even back then, before I was an adult myself, I felt a deep recognition of SOMETHING in watching those kids.  I didn’t quite understand then — I oscillated between my teen alters, and had no real working memory or awareness of the Little Ones inside.  But recently — as in the past several days, as I’ve been playing the “adult game” of looking for paid work to support my family of 3 adults and 2 teens – I have been mourning the fact that there are no real “adults” inside me, and I feel woefully inadequate.  I can act, but it drains me.  I keep feeling like I don’t belong here, interacting with “normal” people — that maybe I should be locked up in a hospital somewhere, controlled by meds and routines.  Do I WANT that?  No.  It just sometimes feels like what I deserve.

 

I mean, look at them — they look like ME.  Would YOU hire someone to work for you, who has a crowd of little kids inside her?!  Even I don’t like me and get so tired of myself sometimes.  It is EXHAUSTING keeping this crowd hidden!!

 

raggedly little girls like my crowd of kids inside me

 

I cannot even convey how much this looks like ME inside!!!  Some of the same features, same coloration, same ages.  Same number.  Geez.  I guess, yes, I am THAT messed up.  Yikes.   :(

 

 


 

Every little bit helps - thank you, kind friend! :D

3 Responses to Raggedy Kids

  1. beauty says:

    I do have some adult alters, but they were no help to me back when I was still working. Oh how mortifying it was to come to work each day and, because of switching (I didn’t know of my DID then) have no memory of how to do my job. My supervisor kept having to retrain me until, finally exasperated, she took me into a vacant office and told me she’d have to let me go if I kept messing up.

    The rat race can be so hard for us multiples.

    Strange, isn’t it, to see something in a movie that so parodies the underground world we know so well? Perhaps a bit creepy and comforting at the same time.

  2. beauty says:

    PS Have you seen the movie, The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, with Jim Carey? At least I think that’s the title. There were scenes in that movies that just blew me away, they were so familiar to how things are in my system.

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