Most people start blogs so that their friends have a place to check in on them, some to use it as a podium to advertise their personal beliefs, and still others to release their feelings on to a page that may or may not be read by a stranger who might understand.
Most people are able to retain memories, of going to work, coming home, going out with friends, even staying in to watch the news. Some of the most mundane tasks can be recalled with little effort if any at all. I envy those people. I cannot remember the last time I could tell you if I ate, went to work, saw a movie, fed the dog, or knew how I'd spent an entire day.
In fact, I may never be able to put the pieces of a single day together.
Okay so now to the confession:
I have D.I.D.
Which is "dissociative identity disorder"....meaning that I have alternate personalities who can shift in and out as they please. One minute I'm bringing in the groceries, and the next my alters are joy riding around town to find a latte while the ice cream from the store is melting in the trunk of the car.
Imagine living a double life, how much work it would be to keep up two different lives, everything from friends, activities, and sleeping habits divided by each life. D.I.D. is alot like that only has the issue of inability to remember what it is you did in your second life and with whom. Not to mention, you're not you, you're someone else and that someone else has their own dreams, expectations, habits, preferences, handicaps, and their own moral compass. Many people who indeed have D.I.D. live with it without even knowing it, or it goes on misdiagnosed and passed off as other things, mostly because if there's no one around to really notice the subtle or even dramatic changes, the "host" won't either.
Each case is as unique as the person who has it. For instance, I wasn't diagnosed until I reached adulthood, and the therapist I was seeing noticed it. Even then it was assumed I was simply dissociating not actually shifting out while an alter checked in. I would forget who I was, who the people around me were, how old I was, where I lived....sound like a child....and then the effect would wear off and I'd be back to my old self as if nothing had happened and with no memory of losing time, my memory, or anything else that would happen. It would feel as if only moments had passed by....if that.
Other symptoms included, migranes (diagnosed as chronic migranes which is common when a parent has experienced the same thing at the same age so that wasn't going to set off any bells), confusion, anxiety, insomnia, blackouts...
I'd show up places I hadn't been before, sitting at bistro tables that had an open chair and left me with the feeling I was missing something.
There were unexplained charges on my debit card, days where everything felt like one big...blur.
After years of this, on a day that had no significance, my therapist began probing me with questions regarding abuse I'd suffered as a child, of which I was aware. I shifted in front of my therapist (who I had been seeing for depression FYI) who recognized it immediately and began asking the alter questions. After the brief interview with "Millie" as she called herself shyly, there was finally an answer. I had D.I.D.
Living with it is like fighting a war at times, others, it's an unintended side affect of stress and provides a psychological safety net in order for me to function and survive.
That's important to remember as well, it's a survival instinct, and completely out of my control. Because of extreme trauma I experienced as a child, my mind divided itself into pieces and each part had it's own specific function, a job to do so that I could endure the abuse without being subjected to it. These divided parts than began to develop into fragmented people, as individual as a fingerprint and each with unique qualities that made them both special and capable of not only protecting me and keeping me alive but even assisting in absorbing what I, as a child, could not.
The brain is an incredible thing and is hard wired to keep us alive even if we are unaware it's doing so.
My alters have been as much a part of my life as breathing, it's my brain's default response to stress or arousal.
And somehow my life still has become collateral damage.
For now, to get you started on who I'm writing about, here's what I know about the alters.
(All the ones that I know exist have names)
Millie- The youngest, she's shy, smiles alot, and usually stays "in" because from what we've been told, she doesn't have a job that needs to be done anymore.
Mac- The first one we learned existed and the strongest physically of any of us, she can run faster, lift three times the weight I can, loves to eat, has friends from area's I've lived whom I've never met but she maintains contact with, and was created in order to protect me from anyone who offends me, hurts me, even if it's unintended. She's a boxer, who boxes directly with the male teacher who's twice her size, to avoid injury for other classmates. Without even trying busted Mac while wearing boxing gloves during a normal practice session busted a woman's jaw during practice, it was an accident and the woman's fine in case you were curious. Mac may not be the oldest of the group but she is certainly the most present and is typically the one that comes out the most. She hates my job, is sometimes reckless, has no sense of consequences for her or for me, and she talks to strangers. She's fiercely protective of me and is constantly changing to keep up with changes in my life, personality, interests, etc. She holds her own job as a volunteer at a library, she can be sweet as pie and sharp as a blade. Of all the alters, she's the hardest to control and reason with.
Eve- The mother of the group, takes care of everyone, is a culinary master (I personally could burn water if I attempted to cook), is the most level headed and her only goal is to make sure things in my life and theirs run smoothly and efficiently. She's also a lesbian and has had several girlfriends without me even realizing I'd left the house or called anyone. She "reads" to the younger ones, does chores, makes sure I remember to take medicine, and puts me to bed. She was created to manage the alters and take my place so that no one would know I was gone, as she is the only one with the ability to act exactly like me and who could answer any question, or do any job that I would need to accomplish.
Eerie- Australian, thinks she's a farmer, is narcoleptic, and is exceptionally organized and a clean freak.
Leah-No idea what her function is, all we know is that she loves to wander the neighborhood in the middle of the night looking to go "home" and she is either deaf or does not speak english because she's easily scared and does not speak. She acts as if she's no older than 6 or 7...
Ava- was created to deal with sex, entirely. All she knows/wants is sex. She is manipulative, smart, and will do whatever it takes to get what she wants.
Anastasia or "Anya" for short- she's deaf, funny, and comes out mostly only when someone's angry, yelling, or saying mean things to me or one of the other alters. She signs and knows American Sign Language.
Most of them believe that they are all regular people, a couple do know that they are divided pieces of me, even though I am not them. All of them are keenly aware of their surroundings, and if someone's lying to them they know instantly and react differently to various situations.
They are privy to every memory I've ever had good, bad, and ugly and have their own memories which I have zero access to unless they intentionally put it there for me to..."see".
I'm not crazy though my life is hectic and chaotic, all of this was beyond my control and is as natural a reaction as crying is when you're sad.
This is how my mind created an environment that I could not only survive in, but develop in and become the person I was meant to be.
Every thing I'm going to write about here has, or is happening, in my life.
I also know that my alters have every intention of writing here themselves as they do in a journal I share with them. Everyone needs an outlet, some people can talk to other people, some write, some sing, for me writing is like detoxing from a day and processing it.
I know none of you can understand what I'm going through if you don't have D.I.D. but I think you may be surprised by my story.
I'm no one important or anyone you'd recognize if you'd seen me on the street, I lead a life of constant compromise and evolution in order to survive. My life is not like yours and everyone's journey through life is different, but I want to be remembered for who I am, every part of me as visible as the reflection I see in the mirror.
That is my goal.
