Category Archives: dissociative identity disorder

Another example …

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… of why it is hard for me to post … The emptiness persists, and I don’t like writing depressing blog posts. It feels counter productive to do so, yet here I am doing just that very thing.

Ever since the ordeal with my ex-husband, Letty has largely been in hiding. She’s emerged a few times here and there. But, she has not been the constant companion she was with me for so long prior to this event. Now Little Ronnie is my constant companion. She does ask about Letty. I don’t really have any concrete answers for her, as I also miss Letty.

I’m back in that robotic depressive state that is really just a nasty hamster wheel that you can’t get off for the life of you. I don’t want to be in this place for the rest of my life. Something needs to change. I want things to change, but as soon as I reach for that “change button” it seems like it’s yanked further away out of my reach. How is it that something you want so badly is out of your reach? It scares me that the answer may be I don’t want it badly enough. I believe I do. I feel that I do. But how does one really know these things? One can’t. You just have to chug on as if there is a light at the end of the tunnel, even if it’s likely dark forever.

Twenty years

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20 years later we found each other again.
It was like time had not passed between us.

It all came rushing back,
the way you give your cats voices and stories,
and your profanity that would be uncouth on anyone else.

You call me princess, and I remember how it felt 20 years ago.
This DID is full of surprises.
I didn’t remember you dumpster-diving for my coupons you accidentally threw away,
or my best friend with hardly a penny to her name flying to see me.

You talked to Letty, Ronnie and Sabrina,
and you showed them love and understanding.
We decided we belonged together after all these years.

April 12th was the day you chose for a fresh start.
You were coming home to me.

In between all the planning we just talked,
talked about life, and stupid stuff, like made-up cat stories.
The laughing, so real, unlike any laugh I’ve had in decades.

All I could promise was tea and toast with me every day.
We don’t have a lot of money, but we felt like the richest duo around.

But then there came the email.
I was merely a fantasy.
Your family needs you, and you hope I can forgive you.

I can forgive you.
But can Letty?
Ronnie?
Sabrina?
You have to ask them as well.

Twenty years from now, there will not be another chance.
There will be no other moment like the one we had.
I know what you said no to, but do you?

Wrong

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For nearly 20 yearsI was afraid of him.

 

I hid from him,

took great pains to not have my name in that thing they call the Internet.

Alas, he still found me

on that stupid thing called Facebook.

 

When I left,

I left because I was scared.

A voice told me I had to leave.

“Go now!”

It said.

“Get out!”

 

So I did.

I packed in one night,

only books, clothes, a zester and a salad spinner.

 

For nearly 20 years, I said I ran from a bad man.

I was convinced of it,

Convinced I did the right thing.

 

But then one peep started talking to me,

telling me he was okay.

 

It started with a whisper,

“He’s safe. He IS safe.

Talk to him.”

 

I ignored it,

but the whispers would not yield.

 

Finally, I gave in

And found him on that Internet.

 

And I was wrong,

Wrong about everything I believed.

 

All those years ago,

We did not know

I had DID.

 

My dear sweet love was having a hard time all those years ago.

He left the only job he had ever known.

There was despair and a hole in his heart in a life without that job.

 

He would hole up in that room all by himself,

and not say a word.

Just play his video games

and grunt my way.

 

One day I had enough of no talk.

He had a bowl of popcorn cradled in his arm.

He gave me a scowl and cower as I walked in.

I popped that bowl of popcorn straight in the air

and it rained popcorn on our despair.

 

A peep I didn’t know I had was scared,

and wanted to run.

My husband’s despair was a reminder of woe

the peep felt in the scary house of long ago.

 

This was not the same,

but how were we to know?

 

When I left he cried

and asked me not to go.

 

I left, and did not turn back.

 

Nearly 20 years later,

I turn back.

 

Now, I cry,

and ask him not to go.