Towards the end of 1995 I started having trouble sleeping at night. I would wake up in the middle of the night unable to breathe. I became real anxious and the times where I couldn't recall peoples names became more frequent. I would have horrible reoccuring nightmares that seemed so real that I would actually feel the sensations or pain in my body. I would have panic attacks and flashbacks just driving in my car. One day I walked into the church where I had gone for 5 years and didn't recognize anyone. When they started to sing and worship God, I paniced, since there was no name in the song I couldn't tell who they worshiping. I knew if I didn't get help I would fall apart or worse.
I had been in therapy before to deal with abuse issues. I thought I had it all together so when things started to fall apart I got real depressed. A friend recommended a therapist who was suppose to be very good. I met with her and she was good! She listened to all that was happening with me and told me I wasn't crazy. She explained to me what MPD was and how there were different degrees of dissociation- not everyone with MPD is like the movie Sybil. She had me keep a journal and also write down the nightmares I was having. Through my journal and listening to the tapes from my sessions in therapy I got to learn more and more of my inside family.