Lately, I have spent alot of time stumbling in a fog. In silver blue tears. As they fall into the shadows of who I am. And the little ones have wept like never before. From feelings that,both,wound and heal us, too. During the past two weeks, more personalities from ages ago, have risen from the ashes of memories. Breathing again. And as they have surfaced, more time has been lost. As personalities come out and live their own lives. Causing others to lose an hour here. Five hours there. A day or two- completely vanished. No idea what was said or done by alters, then. As one or another were out all by themselves. No co-consciousness then. Alters saying and writing things I have no memory of. People have been telling me of things I’ve said or written. I have no memory of it. Other times, as alters speak, I hear their words fly out of my mouth. Unable to stop them.

I have been just as lost as the time unaccounted for. Whose body is this, that I am wearing? Who is this old stranger in the mirror?Memories scream out, that aren’t mine. Who do they belong to? Such atrocities done to them! I never went through any of that. I feel nothing. I am lost. Wrapped in the company of alters. Come- Joshua and Jordan. Viper and Venom. Lijah, Eli, Lindsay Greenwood, Cody, Katie, Christian, Summer, White Bear and little No. Come- Becca, Daniel. I thought Lacy integrated three years ago, but she is still very much here. And four year old Noah came out of hiding last week. He tries so hard to understand and do everything just right. More hidden little ones have been peeking out. Ready to make themselves known. We are beginning to feel whole within each other, now. The Hated. The Hurting. The Hopeless. The Numb. And forever- The Outcasts. Come to paint who they are- with the color of their wounds. Come to be known. To be healed.

As memories of all the wounded warriors within me- play out. As personalities are becoming courageous enough to live their own lives again, individually. And out of my view. Pages of my life turn silently behind my back. Into the unknown. But, healing has been raining down, the past two weeks. And I am speechless by it’s wonder. Healing has come as the simplest gifts. That have grown into the biggest blessings. Like bandages on my soul. Healing is coming in the form of friends. In the gentle touch of a hand. In being defended. A tender word spoken. Laughter shared. A smile that makes the world feel safer. Time spent together. In person. In a message. In a call. It has been like filling a dried out sponge with an entire rainstorm. And the rainstorm is bringing healing. A downpour.

Healing has come by a friend sending emails. Understanding and accepting us. The wisdom that God has given her- astounds me. She cares about all of my alters. She treats my little ones like they are her own children. This has brought others inside- close to letting her get to know them, too. For my alters to open up to anyone, is a giant hurdle conquered. A milestone in healing. To be able to release their secrets. To feel comfortable to let people see them and their vulnerability- is pure freedom. And it feels like I am flying.

Healing has come through another friend, who is getting to know my alters. She can tell when my personalities switch. And who is who. She talks to each one, as they come to talk to her. One young alter didn’t know their own name. So this friend named her “Sunshine.” They love that name. And by a friend taking the time to give them a name- was very healing. This friend has been reaching out to my little ones, too. One way has been by reading bedtime stories to them. There is sanctuary in those stories. In that safe time. In the time spent. The little ones feel safe enough to come out and listen to those stories. To listen to someone talking to them. Each alter has been offered friendship. An ear to listen. Freedom to be themselves. A chance to play. Some- come unhindered. Others are close to talking. For them to be acknowledged. Accepted. To not have to hide and be scared as they learn to trust. Is freedom.

A freedom we have never known. A song never heard before. This song from heaven. To bring healing. In so many ways. I sit at it’s table. Hungry. I fall into it’s waters. Thirsty. Fill me now. Gently, I soar on the winds of a new day. There’s no going back now. So carry me on. Through the kindness of others. The peace that has comes- soothes. The tears that need to fall- do. Trust has begun it’s birth. Deeply hidden secrets are released. Finally. Slowly. As pain allows. Free from the bondage of silence. Flying now. Riding an updraft. Arms wide open to receive. A miracle playing out. We soar. As we see Jesus in others. As we see Him looking at us through the eyes of friends. In love. Unconditional. I feel free. As healing breathes in me.





From long ago and once upon a time,come the presence of personalities.Forgotten in the trail of the dust of memories left behind.How lovely to see their faces. To hear their voices. To be told their names. As they band together to help me, as I break once again. An army of the shattered pieces of me. They are here to be a shelter. A help. To heal us, in their own way. In our pain. The Warrior. The Troubador. The Thorn. Justice and the Rebel. Protector and Preacher. We escape into healing. Healing in our own inner worlds. Fleeing from reality. We don’t belong there. Too much pain and trauma there. It feels like barbed wire wrapped around lace.

So, we descend down into ourselves. Tucked away. With seasons changing. So different now. An aging, wounded soul. Heartbreak is all you’ve ever known. It is time to go home- within. It’s a kinder,gentler shore to swim to now. Through the whispers and cries of life. From babies to the white-haired ones. We have all been through it in life. From rocking chairs to mountains. Healing’s tide washes into the imaginary worlds. The only place we were never an outcast. The only place love lasts. Life has been like barbed wire wrapped around lace.

The pain comes- of being ripped apart. As personalities emerge from their hiding places to pull us all back into our imaginary worlds.They are my heroes, come to rescue me now. And we shall live happily ever after, in our imaginary worlds. The only place where we have never been afraid.

The past week has been full of emotion. Random hallucinations,like in the past when stress is overwhelming. It’s a further escape from reality. Also, this past week- one alter integrated. It couldn’t take the pain from life anymore. I felt their agony just before they disappeared. Suddenly, they were gone. Slipping through my fingers, like sand on a windy day.

I had always thought that three year old Stevie was the first personality created. But there was always a fog across that memory. It always seemed like two others were already there, when Debbie went away and Stevie was created. He just didn’t know who they were. But this week, I met those two alters. There is three year old David. And then, it broke my heart to meet two year old nee-nee. It’s her way of pronouncing Nancy. Someone who was like a mother to her.

David and nee-nee have been showing me the torture they went through. I brace myself, as they begin to walk me into the deep ravine of all they went through. I have no idea what lies in the belly of it. But for their sake, I will take their hands. And go with them to face the ugliness and stench of it all.

It has been decided to let every alter be free enough to be themselves. It has always been, that alot of them have been shut up. Not allowed to say or do anything. But a new level of healing is coming, as I free them up. As I let them actually have a life. As they are given the right to speak more. They feel safe enough to do that, now, as long as they stay tucked under the covers of make believe. They are learning to run free. Like a young colt, let out into the pasture for the first time. There is happiness in the simple things. Not in much else right now. Life feels like barbed wire wrapped around lace.

Always an outcast.From birth. We have learned to function in that. It’s all we know. The only place we belong, is with each other,within. And now, we are being encased in the safety of each other.We have accepted that integration- is not the healing we need. Life has always beat us down. We drank from bitter streams. Been thrown around in storms. Felt the sting of fists against our face. So, healing is knowing how to feel safe amongst ourselves. This band of shattered, scattered warriors and children. We immerse ourselves in this new season of healing. Knowing life is like barbed wire wrapped around lace.


Alot has been going on.Doors in my mind,opening and closing.Slamming shut like a front porch screened door. Through endless storms raining down on me. Fields of memories,sting.Caught in the thorns and thistles again. Wanting to climb back into not remembering it all. Back into the hot summer days of the sweet smell of freshly cut hay, drying in the sun. Instead of breathing in the filth done to me. Innocence and a life stolen from me. My life belongs to my memories today. I want it back. Not easy not knowing who I am,many times a day. Not easy not knowing where I am, when I am always lost in another time. Trapped in memories that don’t seem like mine. Memories become my eyesight.

Getting to know a few personalities better, is rough. And it’s sweet. It stirs emotions I didn’t know I had in me. As they brush by me. And I feel their grief. I feel as much from mourning, as I do from joy. Of meeting them now. A lifetime of being strangers. I want to dance with them. I want them to experience life for the first time in a long time. Remove my armor. I want to run with them in the wind.

Shadows scare the little ones. They don’t know why the shadow is following them. Their fear and sorrow is wider than we can hold. And there is “Three.” A little one. All alone in this world. No idea where they are. Nothing familiar.All they know, is what they relive over and over. Like an evil fairy tale that never ends. All they say is,”Three.” All I know, is that it is their age. They have no inner, imaginary worlds. No escape from harsh realities that can’t be described. Trapped in heartless flashbacks that three year old Stevie used to go through. Before he integrated in 1999. Those flashbacks of seeing blood everywhere. Rivers of blood across roads, on floors and walls. Even the rain coming down, is red, with Annie’s blood. A growing sense of grief that we try to tuck away. Strong, run the memories of Annie being killed by an abuser. Because she was trying to protect me from them. A sad song that never quits strumming in my heart. Hollow. At least I know what triggered these memories and flashbacks this time.

Wondering how many more personalities were created that day Annie took her last breath. Through each step of the trauma. How many were created when the abuser took their little fingers and put them in the slit in Annie’s throat. The sight of it. How it felt. The color. We still see it way too clearly, even today. Is that the day that “Three” was created? It seems that way. The little ones still look for Annie today. Believing someday they will find her. And she will be fine. Looking at you, for maybe a moment longer than usual- to see if you are her. Memories bleed from me today. Tears don’t understand why they cry. But “Three” knows why.

Then, in the silence, in the presence of God, the other night, I felt what it was like to feel loved. For the first time in my life. It took my breath away. I had always felt God’s love, but not this intense. And I had never felt loved by people. Always felt unloved. Unlovable. After all this time on Twitter and Facebook,and people reading my blog, they said they loved me. I couldn’t comprehend it. Nobody had ever loved me. But, the other night, I saw it. I felt it. I finally knew it. It engraved itself on my heart. And God began using that, to do more healing in me. His breath of healing breathed over me. It stopped me in my tracks. I have cried alot in my life. But never like that night. Those who have shown kindness to me, helped me reach the point of being able to feel the love of God more. Helped me feel like I could be loved. “Three” felt the immensity of God’s love,too. We really needed to feel loved now. To get through this season in our mind. Breaking. To heal more. Each drop of kindness. Each drop of love, opens a wound. To heal it.

I am weak. Broken. I am “Three.” Scared and small. Wanting to be loved. To feel safe. I am all of the others, too, at any given moment. As they come out.Most times, the switching is rapid.It is tiring. It is needed. And it’s alright. It is our sanctuary. And just as my face wears the age of the years that I have weathered. My souls wears the marks of what others within have been through. I wear the slit across Annie’s throat- as a scar across my broken heart. I wear the slashes done to me, as silent screams I hold within. I wear the beatings and rapes, across the words I say. Across the words I hold back. My tears say more than I ever could.

Each ounce of kindness shown to me, is helping the healing,thunder through me. Each healing leads to another healing. Like hands holding hands. Healing holds healing. I need more healing released within me. Let my wounds ride the heavens until all wounds mend. Til all the unspeakable has been said.Open my mouth to say it. Open my wounds to feel it. Open my heart to own what happened to me.Open every hiding memory. Release it all to the Hands that heal me.

Old photographs,strewn across the floor. Each one shows me which personality was there. They all look different. Frozen in time. In my memory. Old photographs don’t lie. Where are the pictures of “Three?” I need to find them. I need to know her. I try to hold her. But she doesn’t know me. I am too old to be familiar to her. I want to break through the barriers that keep us from each other. Want her to see me and not run scared. It hurts when she runs from me.

If only I could reach out to her. Maybe friends that have carried us this far, could carry her now. She will be looking for the kindness of Annie in everyone she sees. Don’t be afraid. She is just “Three.” She has been lost for almost fifty-one years now. She doesn’t know me, but she may try to climb into your hearts to heal awhile. And when she heals enough, please bring her home to me. I love her so deeply.

In His Hands

The past six days has been fierce. I couldn’t even hang on. I just rode on the winds of turbulence. After Debbie had gone back into hiding, everything intensified a thousand times. The other night, it became too much for me to bear. And I felt the pull to go back into hiding, too. Still angry with God. Still so hurt by Him. Unable to pray for myself. But I could pray for others easily. For myself, only a loud silence arose. Yet, six days ago, the presence of God engulfed me. All I could say to Him, was, “No.” He kept saying the word, “Healing.” And I’d say, “No,” even louder. I’d pull away. He’d draw closer. I couldn’t bear to feel the touch of His hand on my life. All I could say, over and over again, was “No.”And still He came.

Most of the first and second layers of hidden personalities returned back to the safety of being tucked away inside. Some remain. Trying to cope with life in the real world. And yet, another additional layer began showing itself to all of us. Overwhelmed, isn’t quite the word to describe how all this feels. To know there are so many shattered pieces of me. To see so many personalities that I don’t know- hurts. It scares me. What have we been through to be scattered into hundreds of grains of sand? It is too overwhelming for me. Still on the verge of going back inside. Letting someone else take over.

More new personalities are still being created, to cope with everything going on. The intense grief is drowning us. This world is too much for us. It is safer inside. Most of us are more fragile, than strong. The other night, the world was spinning faster and faster. My heart, broken beyond recognition. My crying on the inside, climbed to reach the crying on the outside. At that moment, hopelessness rose and fell. Something big began happening. Tears rained. My breath was taken away by the pain. I wondered what would happen next. Should everything within just run it’s course? That seemed the best choice.

Even now, I feel so much like just drifting away. Letting someone else live life for us. None of us inside are made for this. I have failed at helping the others within. I pray that there is someone inside who isn’t so fragile. I pray that we quit shattering, before we are but dust on the ground. I pray that the pain, and the crippling storms- stop. Second by second, I feel the pull to go back into hiding. Ready to close my eyes, and fall back inside, where it doesn’t hurt. If I do, who will remember me? Will they forget me too? Ready to fall into the depths of us. If I do, please treat the others gently. They are as fragile as butterfly wings.

Someone inside, says the pain has to play itself out. I just want to shut the music off. But still, it plays. I feel myself slipping away to where it is safe. I feel the children alters- those from the innermost layer, looking at me, crying. They’re scared of this world. I try to tell them it’s alright, but they don’t believe me. They know better, just by looking at my tears. They try to hold my hand, as I try to leave. I don’t know them. They don’t know me. Maybe there was something to this system of not knowing each other. Of not knowing what each other has been through.

For a split second, I get a glimpse of a healing that God may be doing in us through all this. Maybe all this internal chaos, is a way for everyone inside to see each other. To see what we’ve all been through? Is this the beginning of another healing? None of us want integration. We want to stay together, with each of us being separate individuals. The others that integrated before, didn’t want to integrate. They fought it with everything they had. Yet, God pulled them through ten years of healing. What is about to happen now? I weep, thinking of it. In the past, some healing came by personalities getting to know each other. By getting to know what hell each had been through. Gradually, that built the bridges that joined all the alters together. No longer cut off from each other. We are not ready for bridges right now. We want to keep each other. To be here for each other.

God’s presence is widening and deepening. Yet, we have to look away. And close our eyes. And look down. Trying to hold back each painful tear. Starting to reach out to Him, yet pulling my hands away. Too much hurt, even for so many within. Trying to look at Him through tears. Not ready for bridges yet. Please don’t let us see each other within, if You are just going to take us away from each other. We are all we ever have.

And His presence comes mightily. He sits with me, in silence, watching all the personalities. He knows them all by name. For some, He is the only Father they have ever known. Others pull away. He understands why. Hurt so much in life. He knows the dark secrets they hold. Gently, He touches their eyes, to show them more memories. He leads them through the sinking valley. And here, in His presence, I know what He is doing now. I whisper, “No.” Healing begins. Thunder and lightening within my soul. Healing hurts more than anything else we’ve ever been through. I beg for mercy, that the healing would go away. He sits with me. He touches the faces of each of us. And we know. We fall at His feet, praying this healing will stop. He lifts us up. And we know.

In the distance, bridges are being built. Slowly, being connected together. I can’t look at them. Tears fall. This landslide within us, has a purpose. I can see that now. Uncovering layer upon layer of us. Echoes from within. Voices unfamiliar. Yet, He knows their voices. He is taking each of them by the hand. Leading them to the healing they each need. And in His hands, He holds the voices that each one needs. As He touches their mouths, their words will come forth. In His hands are their broken hearts. He will hold them til they are strong enough to beat on their own. In His hands, is the courage they need. To look at the forgotten days. His hands touch their eyes with the courage to look at people and see them turn into their abusers, abusing them. With the courage to look into people’s eyes, He can help heal them.

I hear the roar of healing coming now. Louder than ever before. Like the sound of tens of thousands of rushing waterfalls. Like the sound of a million lions, roaring all at once. Like the sound of all the angel’s wings. And I dig my heels into the ground, to withstand this healing. Beginning now. Terrified. In awe. Humbled. Hesitantly, I stretch my arms out as wide as I can. To receive the force of healing.

When Faith Falls

Hollow tree- just like me. Empty and dry. Broken. Falling apart. Weathered by storms. I cry.

And when faith falls…..When all hope is gone…..When every dream blows away…..When grief is my breath……And I just can’t even talk to You.Can’t find one word. When I feel You have hurt me. What do I do? So angry with You.

Sitting in the silence of my pain. It’s all that remains. Again. Sifting through the dust and rust. Shattered memories, make it hard to breathe. Too weak to cry to You for help. I remain where I fall.

Mud mingled with tears on my face. I know You are here. I know You listen. Just feel like You don’t care. Feels like life will always be this way. So black and blue. I am so hurt by You. So hurt by You……….


The other night,as Debbie went back into hiding, a calm swept over us. We hadn’t felt that calm, and at home within ourselves in more than 30 years. And as it washed over us, some of the recently surfaced personalities- went back into hiding, too. They were just too scared to stay in the outside world. And that night, other alters, hidden for a lifetime, came out. Face to face reunions with strangers I’ve never met. I can’t even begin to describe what it feels like to be someone, and not even know your own name. To not know the other people inside. Or even, some of the people on the outside. To not know where you are- even at home, at times. It’s alot for everyone inside to go through. Some alters know some of the other alters. But some think they are the only one. The memories,as they come, drop us to our knees. And as these alters went back into hiding, and others emerged, the stress and fear ran like a river of overwhelming force. So, then, new alters were also created right then, to help us all hold on through the storm.

Windblown, scattered, shattered,broken. All joining forces to help everyone within. The hidden, the hurting, the strong, the weak. The babies, the children, the teens, and adults. So many….hidden from view.

Yesterday was spent with alot of switching of personalities going on. And losing alot of time, as alters came out on their own for awhile. By the time someone else came out, and they switched, time had been lost and little children alters had done things. No one else had been out with them, to supervise. And I have no knowledge of them being out. These seem to be very young children alters, who had been hidden forever, and just surfaced. Yesterday, was apparently their play day. I was shocked to find the garage door up. Nobody had gone anywhere before then. But a little one must’ve found the opener for it and pushed the button. Another time, I set a box of tissues in the other room. An hour later, it was gone. No trace of it anywhere. Other things had been put in places they didn’t belong.

I can sense these child alters peeking out now, looking around at things that interest them. We always put things in their own place, so they can always be found. It makes it easier to keep track of everything. There is a flurry of activity in my head. It’s always been this way. None of this is anything new. And it’s all manageable. It’s my normal. Strangers and familiar friends come and go all day, in my head. One minute a happy personality is out. The next minute, someone else is crying. Stress does make things worse. But I learned as a child, that I just never knew what was going to happen next. It amazes me- the strength of a multiple. And the frailty. Sometimes all within a matter of a breath.

So many little ones out lately. Afraid no one could love them, if people knew what had been done to them. The worst of it all.Memories always here. In a violent stampede. Memories dripping in fear. Dancing across all we can see. If you could see with your eyes, what we see with our memories…..

Healing comes for us in a different way. In being sheltered; hidden in layers within. For anyone to push for their versions of healing for us, is terrifying. It makes us retreat more. It isn’t healing,at all.

People have expressed concerns about Debbie going into hiding again. It’s better for her. Most people never talked to her or got to know her anyhow. By age 3, she could no longer deal with all life dealt her, and personalities came to take over for her. It stayed this way, til 2.5 years ago, during those huge integrations. Then she was out more. But still, not often. She was always too wounded in life, and by life. While a few personalities do grow older, most stay the same age, as when they are created. So, figure she was between 3-5 years old, still always wounded, trying to deal with an adult life. It was too much.

Healing comes for us, in holding onto each other, within.

Yes, you can still call us Debbie. Most hate the name. Some hate her. Blame her for the abuse done to all of us. But we will still answer to the name Debbie, just like always. To some of us, it’s just the name of the body here. You can talk to us, just like you talked to her. It’s all ok. It’s nothing to worry about or be afraid of. You have already been hearing from other personalities all along, anyhow. You just didn’t know it.

Some people have asked how they can be of support. I guess the biggest way, is to just listen. To whatever alter needs to be heard. I doubt they’d tell you much. But if they do, it means they really trust you. Therapists have always talked to each separate alter like they are separate people. Really, they are. Talk to them, according to whatever age they may be. You don’t talk to a 3 year old, like you would to an adult. The little ones have already been hurt so much. Just a wrong look or a harsh word or pretty much anything could terrify them. Just picture the personalities as individual people in a room. Each one having gone through certain things. Each one with their own memories. Each one with their own likes and dislikes and characteristics.

The little ones are always hurt the most by people’s words and actions. There are certain words they can’t even handle hearing, because abusers said these words while abusing them. Just treat the little ones, like you would treat any small child who has been severely abused and tortured. That helps bring drops of healing.

I will try to explain more in future blog posts. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. There’s not many books I recommend. But the book closest to my story, is called- “When Rabbit Howls.” I would definitely recommend that book.


The other day, as I sat here, personalities switched. And suddenly, somebody was out, who had no idea who my son is. They watched him while he was on the computer. For five minutes, they studied him, trying to figure out who he is. This hasn’t happened since before my big integrations of other personalities 2.5 years ago. When my son was younger, there were alters that thought they were his babysitter. They kept waiting for his mom to come get him. Wondering why they hadn’t been paid for babysitting. At times, they almost called the police on her, for not coming to get him. Those people all integrated. This person now, is somebody who has just come out of hiding.

Two days ago, in my garage, alot of switching of personalities was going on. There’s a mirror in my garage, left there by previous renters. On this particular day, as I was getting into my car, suddenly, little children personalities looked into the mirror. They were terrified at seeing an adult they didn’t know-in the mirror. At that moment, they didn’t even know it was someone in the mirror. They saw a person standing there, and they were terrified that the adult was coming at them to do bad stuff to them. They jumped in the car as fast as they could, and locked the doors. Brave enough to look in the mirror again, they saw that person standing there, waiting for them. The fear caused them to switch. The next person out, was scared and confused, but switched again and someone else came out who could drive.

Mirrors have always been avoided because we never knew who we would see in them. We might see someone we liked, someone we hated, someone who hated us. Or we might see someone we just didn’t know. There is always someone else in the mirror. Each personality looks different.

Driving has always been a challenge, at times. Especially if little ones end up being out for a few seconds to a few minutes at a time. If I’m already having a tough time, I just stay home. Or, if need be, I just turn around and head back home. But other times, that isn’t an option. And luckily, usually, an adult personality is peeking out at the same time, to help supervise and make sure everyone is safe. Stress, or nothing at all, can trigger switching of personalities. The little ones come out the most in stressful times.

The actual person, Debbie, stayed in hiding from age three til 2.5 years ago when the huge integrations took place. And for the last 2.5 years, she has struggled with being out. It has tortured her soul and broken her heart. It’s been too unbearable for someone as fragile as her. All the personalities lived life for her, before. This week, she went back into hiding,again. Forever. She is better off there. We will live life for her. We will shelter her within. This world outside isn’t for her. More fragile than ever before. Just a gentle breath could shatter her more. Too many things were too much for her. She just couldn’t take it anymore. And the day it felt like we were drowning in grief and pain, she disappeared back inside. Scar had built upon scar, wound upon wound. And then adding to that, seeing all of us, yet not knowing who we are or what we’ve been through, was too much for her. She is safe in our arms now, as she hides.

More new personalities have been created to provide relief for all of us. Nothing is easy right now. But all the new personalities are a cushion for us, as we come forth and rise into the light. We are just learning of each other, and trying to cope with life on the outside.

Dizziness has always gone hand in hand with my switching of personalities. I’ve been told that switching takes alot of energy and that can cause the dizziness. Alot of switching can wear me out, too. Over the years, as personalities have come out and relived abuse that happened to them, the dizziness has come in a tsunami. The intensity of it can vary. Since November, now, the intensity of it with one small child alter, has shocked me. When this child is out, horrible memories are starting to break through the quicksand they sunk in years ago. This child becomes so dizzy that they feel like they are going to pass out. They let me know that they want to pass out, to avoid the memories. Never has this happened before.

The next person to come out after that, is always the same one, too. And they hold the dread of what these memories must be, to cause such a drastic reaction. Times of these reactions, are happening with increased frequency. The dread of these memories is pounding in my head. And I know from past experience, that all this means the onslaught of the worst memories yet, is about to pour forth.

I cry out for mercy.