I have had this disorder ever since I can remember. I am nothing like Eve, or Sybil, although my alters range from fully developed individuals with names to fragments of people (whose sole purpose is to just hold tight on to a memory and/or a feeling that's agonizingly unbearable. Which is, of course, why they came into being in the first place).

Three of my alters are babies; I'm not really sure how old they are - they don't seem to be walking, but can get around by crawling or holding onto furniture. They used to live in a dark living room, with a nubbly brown sofa and a maroon-ugly rug. They seem to be happier now, some of the little girls inside spend a lot of time with them, hugging them and loving them. I think they came into being because of neglect, not abuse, but that's just a theory of mine.

Then there are the little girls, some of whom are very sweet and pretty and usually happy right now (they weren't always happy). Their ages range from about 3 to preteens. And there are some who hold a dark secret and are quiet and not exactly pretty. There is one who has no emotion - she just contains the brutal memory of something really horrible. She is accompanied by the girl who is terrified of doors and bedrooms.

There are a range of teenagers; most are female. They range from very angry to very scared girls. One is suicidal and picks up sharp objects to hurt herself with. There is a girl who is obssessed with sex. There a very frightened girl who (when she "comes out") will actually get out of the car and just run if you stop the car or slow down. (She was date-raped at age 15, then dry-humped against her will at 15, and stranger-raped at gunpoint in a car at age 16. She doesn't hitchhike anymore.)

There is one man, who is very protective and comes out when (apparently) threatening situations occur. And there is a punk, in-your-face protective grrrl who does the same, and really doesn't give a fuck how big you are.

And there seem to be adults, one is a mother type and one goes to work. These are the faces that come out most often for others (real life people) to see.

And then there's me. Whoever that is.

I am dating a woman with MPD. She is a loving, talented, intelligent, and fascinating person. It’s a very ordinary thing. She’s the best friend I have ever had.

Whatever strangeness I encounter is subtle. Imagine, if you would, a late 1800’s sitting parlor -- what was that old movie? Life with Father? You go a courtin’ and there you are sitting in the parlor talking to this engaging woman. Occasionally she looks a little distracted, but you chalk that up to your mediocre conversational skills. Unbeknowst to you, she has a whole slew of siblings, mostly sisters of various temperaments, sensibilities, and ages, peeping around the corner out of your line of sight.

Like the twin cousins on the Patty Duke Show, her sisters sometimes disguise themselves as each other. You go to the museum and the artistic sister goes along. You go to the ball game and the tomboy sister tags along. Sometime you look over your date’s shoulder only to see a big brother giving you the hairy eyeball. Sometimes a sister will let you in on the deception. Occasionally a frightened little sister wanders through the parlor while your date is off in the powder room. You talk, wipe her tears away if you can, and as she walks away she waves to you shyly. First you’re fascinated by this amazing family, then a little intimidated. But you go with it. Patty or Cathy? Strange doings in Brooklyn Square. Center of a sitcom hurricane.

MPD is a Russian designed ion drive; that has been used on satellites for station keeping purposes.

etiology: MagnetoPlasmaDynamic (MPD) thrusters (aka magnetohydrodynamic (MHD).

Unlike a conventional ion drive it uses a radial magnetic field to control the ions as well as a static accelerating potential. It has advantages that it can run on a wide range of propellants and is flight tested.

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