Perhaps the start …

Inexplicably, for years there have been moments when a particular face from the far off past will appear in the crevices of my memory for no apparent reason. I would just see his face in a flash. No explanation as to why, and I have no ill memories of this person. But, recently the flashes have become more frequent. I did this complicated web search in an effort to retrieve his last name because it was lost to my memory. I had lived next door to his sister in the early 90’s. She was an accountant, but I couldn’t remember her last name either. I threw her first name, the word “accountant” and the city where we lived, and surprisingly got few hits. I recalled her last name was unusual, and recognized it as soon as I saw it. Then I did a Facebook search and found her profile along with her brother as a Friend on her profile. With my DID, the way I figure out if people from my past are safe is to look at their picture and listen to my system. If there is unrest, the person is likely bad news. This is especially helpful when I know someone is from my past, but don’t remember them.

As soon as I saw his picture I knew my system didn’t like him. My stomach flipped, and I felt myself hold my breath for a second. A cascade of disconcerting feelings came over me. I lost my grounding and floated away for a bit. I know something, and I know nothing.

One never knows what comes next

This southern city is not my cup of tea. It’s no Earl Grey latte, hell, it’s not even a Starbucks hot black tea. Still though, I cannot ignore the fact that I’m getting signs from the universe that I am right where I should be.

I landed a job in my field. Pays abysmally less than I made in my prior job with the same experience. But, I’ve met some great people, and become great friends already with one of my colleagues, another proud member of Rainbow Club*.

With some trepidation, I managed to find a DID therapist. She’s crazy expensive, but I can tell she knows what she’s doing. That job I got is not giving me hassle about working from home one day a week so that I can easily go to my sessions. And I can just feel that I’ve reached a new place in my therapeutic process. My last therapist was incredibly supportive of me, but she had no DID experience. I tried a few times to find a therapist in my last city that had DID experience, and it did not go well for many reasons. I sense that it’s time for a new phase in my process, and I’ve found the right person for it. And I am in the right city with the right job and with the right wife to make it all possible.

And, yet, despite all this, I’m aching to ask my new therapist, “It’s all a mistake right, I don’t have this DID thing after all?” The feeling that it’s all made up, and all for attention just permeates my sense of being at times with no warning. It just pops out like a bad, obnoxious pop-up shop on the street with never ending noise and confusion. Then the feeling goes away like it was never there, until it is again.

*Rainbow Club is my own way of describing those of us that identify as LGBTQIA.

Where is my head?

I’ve been in a roulette of parts moving in and out of my system very quickly. This makes me tired, and fuzzy. It’s not a trigger free world that we live in, and therein lies the challenge. I get triggered very easily some days. Sometimes it’s predictable. Other times, it isn’t. I’m forgetting entire conversations with my partner. Though I know they happen because slivers of them will float back to me when she tries to help me recount them. Sometimes I do not know which part of me is doing what. It leaves me feeling broken and unfixable. I get intense feelings that make little sense to me. It scares me when I do not understand the intensity of my feelings. Today, among other things, I’m triggered by someone that I perceive as needy. Yet, they’ve made no demands of me. However, even from my place as a spectator I’ve become triggered and annoyed just by observing from afar. I am not proud of this, and I wish I did not have these feelings. It is my greatest desire to eradicate these feelings as having them feels like wasted energy. Yet, here I sit thoroughly annoyed by this person. Neediness must remind of something from my past that left a deep imprint on me because I flee at the first sight of it. And when I cannot flee, I resent being in its presence. My brain comes to a full stop with neediness, and has trouble chugging past it.