I carry a secret deep within, one that has always been there, but recently given light to.
I look like a typical person, talk like a typical person, and for the most part act like a typical person.
However, just behind my eyes, there's a whole world of people. There are old ones, young ones, male and female, and even a demon or an angel depending on the day.
And there is me. The Host. The Main Me System. Controlled by these multitudes of persona's who came to life because of tragedy and trauma, from suffering, and pain. Neglect and abuse. When each was born, it's hard to say. For some they've been there from day one.
Throughout my life. these imaginary people always spoke to me. Telling me to run away from a situation if there was danger. Keeping a keen ear on 14 different conversations while still actively listening to the person in front of me. Of consulting with me in real time like I'm having a telepathic conversation. Of distant thousand-yard stares, and moments of lost time. Of times where a monstrous violence took over and I watched from some ethereal realm.
All the voices, I thought were monologue from parts of me that were my imagination. Only to find out that they are voices of my compartmentalization. Bore of stressful, sad, painful times. Fractions of psyche that formed a way for what happened to me, to make sense of it all.
A common thing in my daily life is a phrase that I have learned to hate "remember we talked about this" or "you said you were going to do..." when present memory holds no such discussion. I want to say "Just who do you think you're talking to" because I have no memory of it. Yet part of me remembers line by line as if rehearsed by some Shakespearian actor about to preform before Nobility, words, actions, sights, smells, and feelings, of a Tuesday morning in April of 1984 when the kindergarten teacher introduced me to using chopsticks and eating seaweed. Of how sweet she was, and how strong her perfume always was, but how comforting it was as well. Of how her midwestern dress style always ruffled around her and the faint scratching sound from the nylon pantyhose she wore. How through her coaching and loving celebration and pride at watching me recite my numbers to 100 and getting into The Hundred's Club. Of her soft flabby arms squeezing me with a face burying bosom hug. Yet you speak to me of a conversation we allegedly had just moments ago? Who were you talking to? Why is it that at this time of my life, a memory as fresh as that is recalled, yet our conversation isn't?
Which one of the many did you speak with, and how can I retrieve the mental voice mail left while gone from the fronting? Why is it that a toy can spark so much joy in my life, but a thousand dollars is cold and joyless and to a certain extent unwanted? Why is it that somedays I feel more like a woman, as I am dressing myself, styling my hair, and reaching for the perfume vs the rugged male locker room spray, with its deep musky, earthen undertones? Why is it that though I hate being told what to do, place me in an office environment and I am happy and content being a secretary and making cold calls and checking in appointments as people arrive.
Because those voices, have lives, have specialties, and autonomy and I as the conscious side seat passenger must watch my life being lived by another. Who is this person who lives my life, while I feel helpless? It's me, but it's not me me. It's a persona. A voice who lives in my head. With full knowledge of the world, its workings, and machinations therein. A strange shifting fog from productive "on top of it" worker, to an almost know nothing person, who goes blank thinking about how to do the task at hand.
Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) is a mental health condition that's often misunderstood, even though it affects an estimated 1% of the population. You might have heard it referred to as "Multiple Personality Disorder," but that's an outdated term that doesn't really capture the complexity of the experience.
Essentially, DID is characterized by the presence of two or more distinct identities or personality states within one individual. These identities, often called "alters," can have their own names, ages, genders, personal histories, and even unique ways of speaking or behaving. It's important to emphasize that these are not separate people living in one body, but rather different expressions of a single individual's fragmented sense of self.
DID most commonly develops as a response to severe and repeated trauma during early childhood. Experiences like physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, particularly within the context of a child's primary relationships, can be incredibly overwhelming and damaging. In these situations, a child may dissociate, or mentally separate themselves, from the traumatic experience to survive. This act of dissociating helps to compartmentalize the trauma, making it easier to endure, but can also lead to the development of distinct identities that hold different memories and emotional burdens related to the trauma.
Life for individuals with DID can be incredibly challenging and confusing. One of the most significant struggles is dealing with gaps in memory, also known as amnesia, as different alters take control and the individual may not recall what happened while another identity was active. Imagine feeling like you’re “losing time” or discovering items you don't remember buying – this is a frequent experience for people with DID. This can create a sense of disorientation and disconnect from one's own life.
Furthermore, DID can significantly impact relationships and daily functioning. The unpredictable nature of switching between alters can make it hard to form stable relationships or hold down a job. Individuals with DID may also struggle with other mental health issues, such as depression, anxiety, and self-harm, which can further complicate their lives.
Unfortunately, DID is often sensationalized and misrepresented in media, leading to harmful stereotypes and misconceptions. It's crucial to remember that individuals with DID are not dangerous or "crazy," but rather people who have endured extreme trauma and are doing their best to cope. It's important to approach this topic with empathy and a willingness to learn and challenge our own biases.
While DID is a complex condition, it is treatable. Psychotherapy, often involving trauma-focused therapies, plays a central role in helping individuals with DID process their past experiences, manage their symptoms, and integrate their identities. Support groups and a strong network of understanding friends and family can also be incredibly beneficial.
If you or someone you know is struggling with symptoms that might suggest DID, please reach out to a mental health professional. Seeking help is a sign of strength, and with the right support, individuals with DID can learn to manage their symptoms and build more fulfilling lives.
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