Somewhere in my abused, childish line of thinking, I thought that secrets were good. I was taught that to keep silent meant to be a "good girl," I was told that pretending and camoflauge were imperative for survival.

I feel right into that trap. I fell into the close my mouth and shut the fuck up trap.

Stupid, stupid me.

I am afraid as I write this. I am. I am afraid that I am going to be reported to the CPS and they are going to investigate me. I am afraid that my diagnosis as a woman with Dissociative Identity Disorder will cause me to lose my little girl -- in spite of what Spug or hubby or anybody else says.

But I am trying not to live in fear. And I am trying to kick the asses of the people who abused me and of those who continue to abuse me. Threats and torture are bullshit.

This is when I decided I am in less danger out in the open -- with the support of all of you who care about me -- the hundreds of you who wrote me these past few very difficult days; the wonderful moms who wrote and said, "honey, I feel exactly the same way so much of the time."

SO I'm reopening these particular, personal x files. I'm letting the dangerous and the mysterious and the misunderstood into the light of day to be scrutinized by every passing freak, and every passing friend.

Thank you for helping me find courage, and for helping me find safety.

Both of those, and so much of my strength, come from within -- from the depths of who I am, and how I view the world around me.