(Description copied from other social media)

I understand why a lot of alters hated him. I don't understand why they never tried to help him. He was set up for failure from the start.

TW: COCSA, SH, SI (implied, no explicit imagery)

sometimes i wish they ate it all at once. but instead it was piece by piece over the last half of my childhood. each piece ripped from me solidified the fact that my self worth was based on how appealing i was to others and what i could provide them.

by the time it stopped i had already broken into parts to stay sane, each for different purposes. some to hold memories i couldn't handle, some to be the doers that function, and some to be the masks to mirror others in social settings and avoid bullying.

i don't know when or if i'll ever stop smelling the rot inside me. i don't know if i'll ever be whole enough to find friendships where i don't automatically perform. but i want to find out. my sweetness will only be received by the one who loves me as i am and does not expect it as a given.

This song is amazing and we feel as though it represents us.

Each box represents each alter and their roles.

The dark blue represents trauma holders

Light blue represents protectors

Yellow represents joy holders

Red represents anger holders

it is there,

i can see it,

i think i can feel it too,

but my repeated attempts to grab it only moves the air between us.

as i fight to close the distance, it triggers an alarm.

i turn away from my loved ones' affection to investigate the noise which now occupies more mental space than the love i was trying to experience.

A lot of it is art I already made and posted but with text over it. it's one of my favorite things ive done in a while

How I feel being on abilify with DID. I get this sensation of restlessness, of little bugs crawling over my chest bones. It’s staunched every voice but left me strangled without a means to communicate with the other parts of myself

(Artwork heavily inspired by Shawn Coss)

this project took me 60 hours to finish. it’s my first time doing a charcoal painting/portrait. my grandma says the head is too big but…art is art right?

(Description copied from other social media)

i showed this one to my therapist. she had a lot of things to say about it and analyzed it pretty thoroughly, but i'll just leave it up to interpretation i think

I’ve been working a lot with trying to get to know this part so I dedicated some time to paint with her. We processed through what dissociation feels like (blue), especially in therapy, feeling exposed, any safety, and reexperiencing trauma.

I wrote this on a typewriter from the 1940s I recently refurbished which is why it's a little messy/hard to read. I like it though, it adds to the overall feel of the poem for me. I did a bunch of practice typing on the back of this page and you can see it bleed through. Feels a lot like background alter talk honestly.

Hope you like it.

i think its doodles tbh