My life is much better now, but up til I was 35 yrs old, I didn’t really believe I had the right to live. Fortunately these feelings I would suppress, along with anything else I couldn’t deal with. I met other people when I was in my 20’s. My therapist put me into a group. It actually helped me. My mother confessed to me finally, when I was 13 or 14, that she never did want me, which explained her abuse. The rest of my family took their cue from her. I was abused physically, sexually, mentally, and emotionally. After 20+ yrs of therapy including meds, my therapist told me my diagnosis. I have DID, PTSD, OCD and depression, which I still use meds for. However, I can truthfully say: I’m glad to be alive! I never allowed myself to put down in writing what I went thru because I didn’t want to remember my life then, but, unfortunately, I can’t forget. I rarely dissociate anymore, and it’s usually by my hiding behind my eyes or looking out from within myself. I am 62 yrs old now.