I also have come to realize that I am mourning the loss of about 20 people, and have had to deal with each loss. I really miss reading to the kids and snarking with the teens, trying to get them to understand what the word "co-opeeration" might really mean! And your response post, Angel, made me really miss those moments that you can only have with a DID....the spaghetti....times others can't ever fathom.

Through all the work and pain, there is something rare, precious and beautiful about living, helping, working and loving those whose lives have been so altered by the pain of their abuse as innocent children. Shelia's kids would often come out at night and all they could say was, "but Allyson, we didn't do anything wrong..." over and over again. Or they'd want me to read to them in bed.

"Allyson, you gonna read to us about God tonight?" and holding and rocking them in the night as they fell asleep, and holding them in the morning when they would wake up and say in a wee small voice, "Allyson, we're scared."

And I would say, "of what, Shelia?"

She would respond, " oh, you know, of everything, of life..." and somehow she would then drag herself out of bed and slowly transform herself into a business person for the day.

It's hard for me to look in the closet at her business suits. Her neices came and I told them to try on her shoes and take anything that fit. Funny thing, some were size 8, some 9, and some 10. Hmmm, didn't you ever wonder why there were 9 pairs of shoes?

2/22/99 cont. I have met several DID's who have done the work and are on the other side, and life is now worth living for them. The things that served them in childhood, no longer served them as adults. Living with MPD (Multiple Personality Disorder) can be as painful or DEADLY as doing the hard work is. KNOW that your SO and friends are there for you. TALK TO THEM. NO MORE SECRETS. Secrets kill too. Suicide is painful to those around you. Maybe Shelia is with God and the angels, but right now I am in Hell. And that's not right either.

2/22/99 cont. She told me that her suicide was 52 years in the making and she was right. For me, I went inside and got in touch with myself and asked what would life be like without Shelia, and for me there was no question. I truly loved this woman, and like Jeff said, she was my hero and I told her that often. She was truly an admirable and courageous person that couldn't even see her own strength. She gave to all around her.

2/23/99 I know God loves me, but it's been real hard to see him through my tears. Love those around you. Do what you need to stay sane. Don't do this...please.

2/23/99 cont. I am often greatly comforted knowing that Shelia is with God and can no longer feel the pain. I just wonder if she also misses me, the tender moments, the ones that kept me in the relationship.

2/24/99 I am absolutely in awe of any DID who has done the work and made it to the other side, that is, integration. If this cost the strongest person I've ever met her life, I can't even imagine the pain and agony of this work and in her life. Somewhere amid the shadows of my heart, I hear a voice telling me "see how much it hurts? Do you feel the pain? Imagine what Shelia felt like while she was here."

Consider this too, Joe, when you think about your decision whether or not to leave. Everyone has something, don't they?

2/24/99 cont. I miss her more than I can say. I know that this pain will not go quickly, but will linger like the perfume in her hair, when she would bend over to gently kiss me before she left for work on my days off.

I know that the core person of Shelia did not want to go; and that she is very sorry for leaving me in this Hell. She did not want to die. She was looking forward to New York; the summer with me here; the basketball game that weekend, and the play the next Saturday. She loved our vacation in Thailand, as did the kids. She cooked me Thai dinners and fed me eggs benedict. No, she wanted to stay. That is the thing that sticks. SHE wanted to stay.

Her pain, though, some angry alter, or a wee one in darkness, came to carry off this act because she was too weak to stop it. She just slipped away, from my arms to God's arms. My pain is that now, God rocks her to sleep, not I.