#did experience

One of us alters Mona in the dining-playroom within the house-converted-daycare our headspace is built around:

She's banging her fists on the table, chanting tongue-in-cheek, a stupid-ass grin on her face, Simone is sitting parallel to her, towards the window outside, fronting but looking inward towards her and the alcove where she's sitting.

"Collar me! Collar me! Collar me!" chants Mona,

Simone, used to this shit, numbed-out of really any kink, touch-repulsed, barely keeping-up friendships, raises an eyebrow... Trying to put Mona's chants in the background of her hearing. It shakes her head in a firm-but-amused no.

Across the table from Mona, Repens sits... amused at the predicament. Fae grins at Mona, reaching out a hand to her.

"I'll kick Simone out, that old dumbass needs a break." I like keeping my own Kitten collared... but I get you need time out, as someone's pet." Repens states frank and smug to Mona.

Mona smiles pleased, "Thanks." shaking hands with Repens in the same tongue-in-cheek state, go get her.

Repens stands-up, with a groan, faer cane wobbling from faer shaky forearm.

"Eh, Simone, let me commandeer the fleshbag." Repens demands.

Simone rolls its eyes, "No."

"The fuck are you even fronting for?" Repens gets interrogative.

"Protection." Simone states tersely.

Repens sighs, "Goddammit Simone, you're in your own fuckin bed."

"Mona, go somewhere else. Adults are talking."

Mona folds, exiting this room in headspace meekly.

Simone continues as Repens watches Mona leave, looking hurt as she knows Mona is scared of Simone in these moments. "My bed where I've been held down and [redacted]. After visiting a place and kicking you out from fronting for it's semblance to..." it grumbles.

TW for SA and abuse mentions:

I can’t tell anyone. I can’t. So few people in our life know about what’s going on with us and even fewer understand. I want to tell our college friends so if we act off they know why. I can’t. I have to be afraid because if they know they could use my trauma against me. I’ve had that happen before.

My mom doesn’t get it. My sister doesn’t either, neither do my closest friends. My mom thinks it’s weird that I go by Anakin, but that’s me. That’s my name. That’s who I am. I’m not her original daughter, I replaced her like some kind of fucked up changeling.

The only person who gets it is our partner system, but they struggle as much as we do. We try to support each other, but it’s like two people trying to row upstream with broken paddles. We can only do so much on our own.

I have my headmates, but the lack of people outside my head that understand what I’m going through, the lack of people I can tell—it hits me hard sometimes

Endos do not interact this is about a traumagenic system whose system exists due to childhood trauma. This post is not for you.