Artie Louise is my alter. She wants the world to see what child abuse looks like. She withstood the physical child abuse that I could not and she still holds the memories of the worse parts. Part of her despises me for being what she perceives as weak and doesn’t believe I am strong enough to handle all the memories. For years we were at war with each other. I minimized what I did remember, listening to the voices tell me “It really wasn’t that bad,” “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” “You’re exagerating,” “Your lying,” etc. The truth is, I lived in my parent’s reality for so long, I didn’t have my own. I do have enough memories to know the severity of the physical punishments she endured. Last November, I found pictures that confirmed it was much worse than what I remember.
When Artie took over, she showed herself to be a hardened young adult, who didn’t take shit from anyone. In her world, you never showed fear because the predators, who she lived among, feasted on fear. Before I was aware of our split, I had no explanation for my “crazy behavior,” for which I was ashamed. Once I was aware of our split, I was always terrified she would land me in prison.
Artie does not believe I am capable of protecting her, but she is beginning to trust me a little. We have begun a truce and dialog. She doesn’t talk a lot. Sometimes she quips in as a smart ass teen. Other times, she shows herself to be a hurting little girl who just wants her Momma’s love. I never know which side of herself she will show me. She is in total control of the dialog between us, though she has agreed to let me be in control of our mind and body as long as I keep my end of the bargain and protect her, which she doesn’t believe I can do.
This blog and the book I am writing is to honor her for her courage. I might not be here if it weren’t for her. We both want to help others by sharing insights that helped us get as far in our healing journey as we are.
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