Sal Fisher
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SpaceHey URL:
https://spacehey.com/theholdsystem
Sal Fisher's Interests
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General |
General overlapping interests include: Foraging, Project Zomboid / gaming in general, music, the outdoors, going on walks, writing, drawing, and crafting. Sal Fisher: I enjoy playing Project Zomboid, daydreaming, making shanks, and listening to music. |
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We listen to a wide range of music genres Sal Fisher: Death Metal, (some) scenecore |
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Sal Fisher's Latest Blog Entries [View Blog]
A cry to the void - Sal Fisher (view more)
October 28th 2025 - Sal Fisher (view more)
Sal Fisher's Blurbs
About me:
Hello, I go by many names due to my medically recognized dissociative identity disorder. The part, personality, or identity writing this is Sal. Nice to meet you. My body is 18 years old and female. I have a wonderful girlfriend who's account is (BLANK) We are currently taking Integrated Pest Management at our local community college. As we heal and grow, we hope to take more classes related to horticulture science, and possibly other classes related to crafts and survival skills. Sal Fisher: I am a cohost, meaning I am in control of this body very frequently. If you recognize my name from Sally Face, yes I am an introject... I am fairly source separated, I don't really give a fuck to be honest, it is what it is. I am also fusing with another part named Elan. We are pretty much the same person at this point. God I love fusion, it's awesome! Our dissociative identity disorder journey: We had always felt there was something wrong with us, but this really came to a head when we were 14 years old. At that point we had been removed from the more extreme trauma for at least 8 years, and our other abuser was in jail, meaning our dissociative amnesia began to lower and lessen in severity. On top of our complex PTSD symptoms, we would have times where we would suddenly 'wake up' out of the blue, as if we weren't there in our body previous to our awakening. Nothing felt real, we didn't feel real. We had a very poor memory, which included blackouts. In our journal there began to be writing about how we felt like different people, one that I remember distinctly was The Red Professor, a middle aged man who helped us with our homework, which with our poorly managed attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, was a multi hour task every night. For a long time we didn't understand why we were experiencing these symptoms, but eventually, we stumbled upon something called dissociative identity disorder; a lightbulb went off in our head. The problem? When we told our mother about what her husband had done to us, and how we thought we may have DID, she didn't even hear us out, none the less believe us. A few months later when we finally found a therapist, she laughed in our face when we hesitantly told her we felt we may fit the criteria for something similar to dissociative identity disorder. That scarred us, it echoed the way that nobody helped us when we were a very young child being sexually abused. We fell quiet, we didn't go to therapy for another two years, nor did we dare mention DID again. We were completely and utterly alone, left to fend for ourselves. Eventually a suicide part, Mallory, made a plan to attempt suicide. A protector part, Origin, realized she could not keep our body safe, and so we were hospitalized in order to survive. In the hospital, we spoke to our doctor, a woman who had worked in the field for almost 40 years, about how we had these voices in our head which frequently took full control over our shared body. At one point one of our parts, a caregiver named The Librarian, introduced himself to her. Later in the day our doctor spoke to our mother, telling her "today I met the librarian". While we were in the hospital, we continued to experience these momentary flashbacks, where suddenly we were very young again. We were female, female, you know what happens to females? They are sexually abused. You are disgusting, you are female, you are meant to be assaulted. We felt things happening to our body. When we spoke about this to our doctor, she seemed very somber, nodding her head as if what we were saying made perfect sense. In hindsight we know why she responded the way she did, dissociative identity disorder is very often caused by childhood sexual abuse. Our case was no different. While we were not given a formal diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder, we were told that we were definitely not faking it, and that we clearly had dissociative parts caused by early sexual trauma.
Who I'd like to meet:
I am interested in meeting fellow complex trauma survivors, however I am open to meeting and talking to all types of people. Ideally I would like to meet people who are mature and uninterested in starting drama.
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