PrettyThin

This probably won't make much sense. But I voiced this to my best friend, out loud for the first time in my life two days ago, and I can't stop thinking about it. Not in a negative way, but just in how it is so complicated and intricate and honestly beautiful in the most fucked up way.

I was brutally raped when I was fifteen, and it continued until I was eighteen. But at that point, that first instance, something broke. And now I realize that it is called dissociative personality disorder. But it's strange, because I don't have different voices or truly different people. I think. But at first there were two. The original Marty, developing an eating disorder, and then Kari was created, with bi-polar II tendencies. And then MK showed up, the psychotic schizophrenic. Then Cali, the recovering heroin addict with PTSD after going into rehab. And now there's Marguerite, this intelligent student with a vehement case of OCD. I don't know what to think. I have no fucking idea who I am. But all these girls, all of me (?) they are in my head either talking or yelling at each other, and I take on the aspects of whoever is the loudest, the most compelling. I don't understand.

I hesitate when people ask me my name. I get confused when I'm with too many people that know me by different names because the personas clash. 

All I know is that all of the therapy I've been in so far is so fucking useless, it's not even funny. And I need help but I can't go back to a hospital again, I just fucking can't.

I'm sorry. I just had to write this down somewhere, somehow.