RealMental

This article from FitSugar says you may be even luckier than you thought if you have a sister:

You may have spent your youth squabbling over everything from Barbies to boys, but according to new research, having a sister could be good for your mental health. A new study from Brigham Young University shows that positive sibling relationships — particularly sisters — have lasting positive effects on mental health and can even help fend off depression. The close bonds encourage traits like kindness and generosity, shaping a positive future. And their findings seem to span all sets of siblings, no matter the age gap.

Here is more about the actual study.

People call me/I call myself Majarani.

I see myself as Strong, fierce, protective, hard-working, dedicated, loving, patient, creative, artistic, talented, a survivor.

If I thought you cared and you were listening, I would tell you I’m conflicted. I can’t make a decision- even if it’s what toppings I want on my pizza, let alone what I want for the rest of my life to be meaningful and fulfilling.

I am struggling with PTSD, making myself the priority, making the happy on the outside appear on the inside, trusting people.

Something I have been keeping a secret is my personal blog.

I am trying to think positive and something I’m good at is horses- riding, training, caring for. I’m pretty good at singing, drawing. I am an excellent student, I love to learn.

I love to learn, to read, to ride, to sing, to play, to laugh, my farm. my puppies. Most of all, my sister.

Guest post by Doreen Ashlee

I am 58, female and I am DID. Self knowledge and self help is all I have ever had.

When a person is financially on disability, there is no means to afford a doctor who could shed some light on this life that has been mine.

Tried a few therapists, that said they specialized in DID, but they were crazier then me. I came from a dysfunctional family. Raised by my grandparents, because my birth mother was not mentally well. “Did I want to be like her?” This was the grandparents mantra. My birth father was not allowed to see me once my grandparents adopted me. My birth mother’s 2nd husband came into my life almost after I was born. The well respected school teacher with the wandering hands. The man who took my life and left me split.

The real world and the fantasy world were the 2 places in which I lived. Just barely touching reality. A child alone, knowing at age four that I was in hell and God must hate me. I feel I have had many lives in this one life time.

Psychic abilities that started at age six and out of body experiences. Shared consciousness with everything from other worldly beings (bald head and large eyes) to Peter, the one I had a romantic relationship with for nine years. Was he an angel or an alter? Still have not figured that out. But he helped me remember the goods things about my childhood otherwise forgotten.

I lived in my fantasy world till my grandmother died in 1971. The year of the earthquake here in CA. And the year I lost both mother(suicide) and grandmother (cancer). The next year the loss of my birth father, another suicide.

Grandfather drank himself to death, but spent many years doing that. (blackouts and anger). My aunt and uncle were another added to the list of suicides in the family, along with their grandson. I am older in age, then many of my relatives ever lived.

In 2004 I went on a search to find out what was wrong with me. I met another DID person and realized we had so much in common. I kept my secret of what happened to me for so many years. I was molested from birth till I was 10 years old. That was a dark secret and one that made me hate myself for so many years. When my grandmother died, my ‘held in my mind’ fantasy world broke loose and the alters emerged. I tried to tell my psych. doctor in 04 but he does not believe in DID.

I have had to learn to stabilize myself. Peter was the best therapist I’ve ever had, but he was not physically real. That entity left in 2000.

Well this is a part of my story.
And I would like to be part of this.

For the last several months, I have been an emotional mess. I’m being pulled in so many directions-my heart, my mind, the opinions of friends and family, my desires, my needs, my wants, my fears, my anger, school, work, child, family-I am not sure how much longer I can go on like this. I know that this heavy feeling in my body is my stress, worry, intense anger. It pulls on my face, gnaws on my heartstrings, saps my strength.

Things are not always what you expect them to be; I am not so naive to believe that they will be. I know I am blessed in so many ways, yet I am feeling down. I know that there are high and low points in everyone’s life, but I just don’t want to be standing at the bottom of the mountain, in the damn mud, with a flat tire and no spare. I don’t like the damn low points. They suck. I am frustrated, angry (to put it mildly), sad, scared, disappointed….all the shitty emotions I don’t want to feel.

I go to bed exhausted and my dreams are full of unpleasant things. I wake up thinking about how things could be different if I could control other people’s actions, how things could be different if I would just MAKE A DECISION and go with it. I am stuck in this middle place, this place where lives merge, paths split, where small gestures mean too much. I’m trying to find a balance in this frozen middle, suspended above my fear and rage. I’m trying to keep control of the uncontrollable emotions: rage, blame, desire, fear. I’m not sure I’m doing such a good job.

I can’t see out of this hole right now. I am sitting here with the story of my life in my lap-the damn eraser on the end of the pencil is gone, and the lead broke pages ago. I count my blessings, read what’s been written so far, and try to sort out what is real and what is just my blurred emotional spin on reality.