Tag Archives: DID

just hold on

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You’ve come to realize the depths of your self-loathing today. You subscribe to “dissociative identity disorder” google news alerts, and today you received such an alert. The news alert featured a story with a video of someone describing their experience with DID, and in the video the person briefly spoke using the voices of all of their alters. You find yourself wincing as you watch this, and you ask yourself Why? Why would I wince at this? You wince because you see how it looks to others. There’s no question it looks strange. You look strange enough in life (with your thick glasses and nondescript face, for starters), and to have another piece of strangeness (DID) juxtaposed upon your original strangeness sometimes feels like a strangle hold, an infinite prison of madness and weirdness.

As much as you have grown to love Letty, your younger alter, you hate having DID. You wish you could somehow give it back, return it, exchange it, anything but have it. But, that is not how this works. It’s not how it works with any mental illness. It’s here, ensconced in your being, and you have to learn how to cope with whatever ails you.

DID is the great division between you and the rest of the world. It’s the big secret that you have to constantly weigh when and if to disclose it to people. You know, you’ve heard it all …

“DID is what saved you, kept you from going insane, made it possible to survive your childhood.”

Lately, you truly wonder what the worth was in being saved. Saved to function in some half-assed way with the DID albatross? Yes, because that’s a full life, getting all triggery, and freaky from time to time with PTSD, DID or a lovely hybrid of both. And, you argue that DID helped you go insane. It most certainly did not protect you from mental illness.

If only DID was like a rock you could throw back into the ocean. Alas, no. DID is something you have to work around, like a part of the road that tends to flood. You either avoid that road when it rains, or you do the hard work to fix it.

DID is full body robbery. It robs your mind, your body and your voice, all at the same time. The professionals call it protection. Let’s dispense with the euphemisms. It’s robbery. You see people with similar talents to you, and you are keenly aware that they are going to surpass you. You are further aware that they are going to surpass you because they are not held back by mental illness. You can plot all your career setbacks, and they are all attributed to your DID or PTSD. Either you let promotions pass you by because you know you should minimize your stress, or you’ve had situations with people because you are so sensitive. It’s been abundantly clear to you that the best loves and friends you’ve lost can be connected back to these two issues. You despise that you are this way. You desperately want to NOT be DID, but you might as well throw a penny into a wishing well because that’s how likely your desire to NOT be DID will come true.

You find yourself again thinking of the news article that brought a spotlight to your self-loathing, and you realize your own hypocrisy in that you want people to accept you, DID and all, but you wince at the mere sight of someone telling their DID story on the news. Ok, so you’re a hypocrite, but now what? What is one to do with this information?

Right now, in this moment, all you can do is tell yourself that in another time, and another place, heck, maybe tomorrow, you will feel differently about yourself. You’ll be kinder and nicer, and you’ll be glad you’re here. Until then, all you can do is hold on, and try not freak any more people out along the way.

the elusive hunt for a new therapist

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Readers of this blog may not be surprised to learn that I am looking for a new therapist. There was the incident in January, and there have been other incidents since then that I’ve not written about. I am done, beyond fucking done. I know it might be useful to others to share the latest experience with Doc that led me to this decision, but it is too upsetting. To summarize, (my writing teacher would so object, we should never summarize, but I need to in this case) by Doc’s own admission there has been too much countertransference from him in my sessions. He’s apologized profusely, but he does this every single time. He apologizes profusely, and then it happens again! I’ve also noticed it happens on a 1-2 month interval.

It’s practically been a part-time job trying to find a new therapist. I’ve called therapists that I was given as possible leads, and when one particular therapist could not take me on as a client because she did not have room she offered to try to find me some leads. I’ve then been following up with those leads, and I am disheartened that too many of these people are not good about returning phone calls. A note to any therapists out there reading this: Even if you can’t take on a patient, you should return their phone call and tell them you have no room! I would like to know why the hell I have to put such an obvious thing in a blog post. Returning phone calls in a timely manner (1-2 business days) is the appropriate thing to do, and aside from that, it’s the kind thing to do. A person is looking for a therapist for fuck’s sake! It’s not like I called to order a pizza. I imagine in most professions it is inappropriate to not return phone calls. The expectation is not lowered for therapists, just saying in case some therapists out there are not aware.

I was asked by one therapist how complex I am. I did not know how to answer this question, so gave her my take of myself at this point. Then I never heard back from her. All this searching is made more difficult by the fact that I am looking for someone with experience treating dissociative identity disorder as well as PTSD.

I feel like I’m in a lake with no boat.

a miraculous thing worth mentioning

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This past Sunday for the first time as long as I can remember I got out of bed at a reasonable time. I was not super-glued to the bed with fog and dissociation the way I am on most Sundays.

I got out of bed, and I knew I wanted a kale smoothie with pineapple and mango. So many mornings I’ve wanted this, had the ingredients in the freezer, but then the world turned into a fog and all I could do eventually was extricate myself from the apartment in order to not lose any more time. But, this was not the case this past Sunday. I thought about the pineapple mango kale smoothie and how I had brand new freshly washed organic kale in my refrigerator. I focused on the fact that I wanted the cool, fruity, creamy and clean taste that comes from combining kale, pineapple, mango and banana in a smoothie.

I told myself, “Today you can do this. You want this. You want to have a smoothie at home for breakfast.” I turned on the tv to a show I had recorded: “NCIS Los Angeles” while I made my smoothie along with some wheat toast on the side. I felt myself start to float, but when I felt this start to happen I would look at the beautiful kale, and think to myself “if you leave the apartment you will not be able to have your favorite smoothie.”

And, let’s be frank, the incredible loud whir of a VitaMix blender will bring anyone dissociating back to present time. It’s like a jet fighter is taking off in your kitchen.

Much to my amazement, I had myself a kale smoothie with a side of wheat toast with local salted butter. It all felt right and homey. I actually watched two episodes of “NCIS Los Angeles.” Before I knew it I spent the entire Sunday at home doing homework, and cooking for myself. I did find that there are some dangers to staying home and eating. It is far too easy to polish off an entire box of Annie’s Organic Cheddar Bunnies Snack Crackers. Then there was the attempt to cook a package of turkey bacon for the week so that I could make sandwiches with the meat. That was a pipe dream! The turkey bacon did not last through Monday.

I deem this past Sunday a strangely significant milestone for me. I’ve no idea what was different about this past Sunday, but I’ll take it, along with a kale smoothie.