Dissociation Stories

"You're just like Dad," Toby said. The silence that had followed had been so heavy. Ethan had stood up from where he'd been hiding behind the open refrigerator door and peered over at Toby and his face paled. Francis, without his hearing aids, had caught the harsh words that formed Toby's lips and he stared, eyes wide, at his second-oldest brother. Jasper froze. Toby stepped closer. "That's right, Jaz. You're just like Dad." Jasper looked up at Toby. Their eyes bore into one another. "Fuck you," Jasper said and he'd pushed up from the table - tripped over his own two feet - and gone down. Edgar's dead. Jasper's in AA-after being told by Toby that he doesn't want to see him until he smartens up. Now, with just him, his two younger brothers and their Mum, Ethan and Francis will barely even look at him, and Toby feels like his life is falling apart. Again. [Inspired by the chapter 'Talk Later' in The Marauders by Pengiwen Order Of The Phoenix Part 3]

the tight bundle of knots in my chest as constant as the moon. feb 2026-ongoing. poems from my journal about surviving my memories. highest rankings #1 in coping 3/11/26 #1 in religioustrauma 3/12/26

Liya Merebold experiences teleportation and is never the same again.

This story is originally by Canola-Jauregooey, 'custody' of the story having been handed over to me. Check out their other stories!

Kaira has always been strong - or at least that's the lie she learned to live with. Because strength means nothing when the enemy you fear... lives inside your own mind. Her past doesn't visit her in memories. It attacks her in dreams, in the silence between breaths, and in the voices that don't always feel like her own. Some days she wakes as herself. Some days... she doesn't. There is a child inside her who cries to be held. A protector who whispers warnings in the dark. And a darker presence - the one with trembling hands, the one who remembers the night Kaira swears never happened. Everyone tells her to "face her fears." But how do you confront a truth buried in the versions of you that rise when you're too weak to fight? Kaira has spent years running, healing, breaking, trying again. But wounds don't close just because she's exhausted. Some pains don't fade - they wait. And when the memories finally claw their way back, Kaira must decide whether to survive them... or take revenge on the past that stole her life. This is the story of a girl at war with her own mind - and the selves who might save her... or destroy her.

The doorbell doesn't ring at midnight at the end of a lonely lane. But when it does, and you find a long-lost cousin soaked to the bone on your porch, you let her in. That's what Maya does when her cousin Anya appears with a desperate plea for shelter. But Anya remembers things she shouldn't-like an old armchair Maya just bought. And in the guest room, furniture moves on its own, and lost objects from Maya's past begin to reappear, arranged like offerings. As the strange occurrences escalate, Maya's husband, David, dismisses her fears, insisting there is no spare room at all... only a closet. With her grip on reality slipping, Maya discovers a hidden journal that unveils a terrifying truth. The house is hiding a secret, and so is her own mind. In a race against her own sanity, Maya must uncover the answer to one chilling question: Is she being haunted by a ghost, or by a memory she has buried for twenty years? A psychological thriller with a twist that will make you question everything. 👇 What would you do if your own home stopped making sense? Read The Spare Room now!

sometimes my brain short-circuits. here is the aftermath. ((it's not like i said any of these would be any good)) (cover subject to change when i can actually draw something decent that's not a shitty fever sketch)

What if Naruto is depressed? What if Naruto have a split personality? What if Naruto is turning mad? Will someone help him or will they leave him alone like always? Will they make it worse....?

a list of my alters, their likes in detail now, their dislikes and what each of us do around here

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗ 🍂 a kinda sad short story? 🍂 ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ imagine: cold night, your window is still open, your room is a mess, *you* are a mess, you just woke up from a nap... and you get a text. a call link, to be specific, partnered with a paragraph. oh, this will be fun. ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅ "i would love it if this decision was respected." a professional tone had creeped into rue's voice over the span of the call. she was treating me like an acquaintance. after all that we had been through? directing my gaze to the red button at the bottom of the call interface, i waited for my friend... former friend to say something more. she didn't. "you've got it, rue." and then she was gone without a goodbye. fuck. ╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗ 🍂 written (1) ;; 10.25.21 🍂 🍂 written (2) ;; 10.26.21 🍂 ╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝ // based off of personal experience but like... names are changed and some of the situation is changed because like. it's personal. i feel like getting feelings out with writing is good, so i wrote this. take all of it with a grain of salt 'cause i am very tired and listening to loud music. like... i started writing this on a whim because listening to turn off the lights by p!atd just made me lose my mind tonight for some reason.

A series of short poems. Strawberries - A sweet study on savoring a moment. Who's There - Emotions hewn into meter and rhyme. Untitled - Stream of consciousness through grief, or vice versa. Faceplant - Reconnection and reverence. Sakura - A story of healing and new growth.

DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) is a disorder where someone has 2 or more personality states (also known as Alters). This is a book with information about it, an things about us!

The sky doesn't remember the sun. I don't either. Everything is grey. Faces, voices, even my own hands-they feel like someone else's. I move, but I'm not sure where. Time passes, or maybe it doesn't. Sometimes there is light, not enough to see or to soften the shadows, but enough to make me notice that something exists outside of the void. I do not know who I am anymore, but I remember being small and safe, and for even just a moment, it seems possible to reach again. The light doesn't announce itself. It falls in sharp but small fragments that touch your skin-at first, they feel like a threat, but at last, harmony calls. I wanted to hide inside the darkness; I was too burdensome to reach the light. For the first time, I finally let the gaze of soft light linger.

*points to the title*

the stars weep and I think you and I have the same grief °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° a result of perpetual existential crisis, adolescence, dissociation, trauma, and a sprinkle of teenage angst.

My ongoing story of a girl living through Depersonalization-Derealization Dissociative Disorder, how I cope and my memoir of this stage of my life in my early twenties struggling with DPDR again.

a short story about death, nature and an inner conflict. it is approximately 900 words long. I decided to put my originally German short story on here, because there tend to come more and more English speaking people on my profile and I want everyone to be able to read it. please tell me when there are mistakes since I am not a native speaker. please do not read this if you deal with suicidal thoughts. please take care of yourself. I love you. German version: Sonne, Mond & Sterne

Snippets from Percy's and Jason's relationship from start to end. Inspired and based on the song "Moral of the story" It's not in chronological order :) Please this give this a shot I promise It's good and I know people tend to skip general stuff like this but I PROMISE WITH MY SOUL that you won't regret reading :)

From the outside, it appears that Temperance "Tempe" Anderson is living the ultimate dream: running collegiate cross country for Archibald University on a full athletic scholarship, with a group of young women that are as dedicated as she is. But not everything is as it seems. Tempe is hiding something: an event that took place the summer bridging her senior year of high school and her entrance into Archibald. Ever since, her brain is a haze, her memory a mess of fog and smoke. Now, Tempe questions everything around her, the motives of those she thought could become friends, and pushing herself further and further into the space between living and escape. Just when Tempe begins to settle in, the truth about that summer comes out. And she can feel herself falling to pieces.

[ previously "I Exist, I Exist, I Exist; So Just Give Me A Chance" ] Everything I am, could be, was, and will be. Thoughts, poems, stories, and fiction that I have no place to write. Me, me, me, everything you could want to know about me, right here, right now. Good luck. Heads up that a lot of the poems in here deal with my !mental illness struggle, predominantly depression.