Why I try not to switch

The Indomitable Bourbon from Crazy in the Coconut asked me today why I try not to switch. It’s a very good question, especially since I mistakenly assumed that all of us with DID tried not to switch. I also had the mistaken assumption that we all lost time. This is one of the many reasons that I love the blogging community. I learn so much from you guys everyday.

I’m not sure if I conveyed the following story here, but here goes anyhow: The first clue I had re: my DID came a couple of years ago. I reconnected with Mingo, an old high school friend on facebook. He asked me why I changed in high school and became so gruff with a don’t-mess-with-me attitude. I laughed because that’s not me at all. I thought he might be mistaken in thinking that he was talking about me. Then he mentioned that I wore camouflage pants all the time along with a pink beret. Well, then I knew he could not possibly be talking about me. I’m quite the girly girl. I wear mostly dresses, and I would never ever dream of wearing camouflage pants! My inherent sense of appropriateness also would never allow me to wear such pants, especially since I’ve never been in the military.

Mingo insisted that he has a very good memory, and that he was sure he was talking about me. I told him we would settle this once and for all, and I emailed my sister, and asked her to confirm that Mingo was out of mind. Her reply was unexpected. She replied immediately, and said that I wore camouflage pants, and not only had a pink beret, but a red one as well. I was absolutely flabbergasted because I have no memory of any of this. I still don’t. I’ve tried and tried to conjure up these memories, but they are not there.

I asked my sister why she did not try to talk some sense into me ,and she said that she tried. Apparently, according to her, we had huge arguments about my attire where I called her a “snob.”

Mingo also asked me if I remember how we became friends, and I have no memory of how we became friends. All I have is a feeling that he is safe and kind. He then conveyed the story of how we became friends, and it made me sad because there is no such memory in my brain that I can fish out.

I also tend to lose time when I switch. That’s the biggest reason I try to avoid switching. I’ve found journal entries in different handwriting after I’ve lost time. Scares the heebies out of me!

Even the innocuous things scare me like discovering shows I’ve recorded on my DVR have been watched when I have no memory of watching those shows, or discovering that my Nook has been read without my knowledge.

I try not to switch because it scares me that I do things without remembering.

Oh, yes, that’s what that was …

Some pieces are starting to come together in spurts. Just yesterday while I was plodding along trying to get myself together after being triggered I had a memory race across my brain.

Three years ago I decided to go to a 6 week partial hospitalization program at a nearby psychiatric hospital. It was the first time I entered a psychiatric hospital for treatment. I was crying, completely triggered and freaked out when I made the phone call to the intake phone line. After I spoke for a few short minutes, the woman on the phone asked me if she could speak to one of my parents. I was stunned! I didn’t understand why she said that. She seemed genuinely surprised when I told her how old I was, at the time I was 37!

Ever since that happened three years ago I’ve been stumped by it. I thought various things, such as was it because of the fact that I was crying that she thought I was a young child? But plenty of people cry on the phone as adults and don’t get mistaken for children … I’ve always wondered how that happened. It bothers me when I can’t understand or explain things.

Then it occurred to me yesterday that the woman on the intake phone line at the psychiatric hospital must have interacted with me while I had switched to a child alter. It finally made sense to me. Doc had mentioned to me on Friday that my intonation changes when I switch into a child alter. He can immediately tell when it happens.

It’s small, very small, but I like understanding, even if it’s only a small piece of the entire story.

DID has scared me into hibernation

I did it again, disappeared from the blog for a bit. It has been hard. The DID has scared and depressed me.

The new job is great, but I had something happen related to my previous employer that has had me triggered. I don’t want to be triggered. I don’t want to dwell on what happened. I want to not feel this way, but, still, I am triggered.

Doc and I had a talk about my diagnosis this week where he confirmed for me that DID is my actual diagnosis. This time I did not freak out, and I was happy that I was relatively calm during our conversation. I have been feeling low about it, but I suppose that’s better than freaking out.

I’ve been losing time at home, and I’ve started to feel like DID is my terrible secret. I’ve told 4 people who are close to me about my DID. Two have been supportive, and the other two refuse to believe that it’s a real condition. The 4 people I told are people close to me, and it makes me reluctant to tell anyone else, not that it’s information that I would freely share with people, but still …

Though I am not doing that great I think the new job has helped things a bit. I feel like I have more of a purpose there, and I certainly am motivated to be there even when I feel foggy.

I am beginning to believe that things will always be incredibly difficult …