Have you ever seen the movie, “The Perfect Storm“? We caught the last glimpse of it the other day and it was on TV.
During this movie there towards the end the sun comes out and shines briefly from the horizon through the clouds (and it is quite beautiful). And then the clouds close back in and the Captain says:
“She’s not going to let us go.”
This is the life and feelings of a survivor; we have survived “Perfect Storms” before – but for child abuse victims – the storms can go on forever.
“She” is not going to let us go (meaning the storm). It’s always there – whether lurking just over the horizon, or hovering overhead; just waiting on that perfect triggering moment to reappear – tossing us in waves of … everything.
(softly, sadly now) Can you say “waves of depression”, boys and girls? Can you say “waves of guilt and shame?” Or how about this one: suicidal impulses and thoughts and things. Resignation. Remorse. Guilty feelings. Wars going on. All kinds of ‘negative emotions’
Yes, those waves can be rather huge; however, we are refusing to allow them to capsize our little boat here; what we’ve come to calling our “Ship of Fools” sometimes, though they are not fools on this little boat here.
They are survivors of a kind; and the kindest kind of survivors we’ve ever met. Even the ‘hard’ ones; the ‘hard ones to take’ kinda kinds.
We have one who is capable of dealing with all this stuff; he has been appointed “Captain” right now: our Soldier one. He is the only one – stiff lipped, firm, eyes UP, chest out, hands FIRM on the helm, guiding us through this one; this ‘perfect storm’ of ours.
He can take anything this old world dishes out to him; even our tired old selves.
And he is calling this in our mind (even as I speak right here) – An “Imperfect Storm” – because we are surviving it; we are going to survive, if he has anything to do with it.
And he has a very firm mind (about like those lip-sets of his: a hard pressed line; firm against his teeth; eyes squinting into the wind; ignoring those waves of mine – and while “he” is incapable of loving us (he is a SOLDIER: he cares, but does not love us) – he is commanding US, the crew, to begin throwing ‘oil on the water’; meaning love amongst ourselves.
And we are (desperately sometimes!) doing exactly that one thing (while huddling below decks, screaming and crying and clutching one another and throwing each other away – WE are doing that; spreading love on this water of mine.)
I wish I could say this is a “wonderful” thing, but it’s not; not at this time; sometimes it feels like ….. a losing proposition? That that next big wave is going to be the one that swamps us, carrying us to the ‘bottom’ forever, that big ol’ mean endless pit of despair we’ve escaped from for so many times that we can’t even begin to remember?
But …. we REMEMBER the sun, and we are knowing it’s not going to be forever; that it’s only ‘just this one time’ (and it’s always “just one more time”) riding this boat through the ocean of love; the oceans of hate and depression; and all the things that may come; here and now and in the future and beyond.
For we are one and we are many and we are strong together.
Even when we’re falling apart.
And that’s one thing to remember (sternly addressing my own self; M1&2&3 here): Switching is part of controlling, part of controlling this thing we are; switching is a way of controlling our own emotions – making sure we don’t go too far. (you can see Jeffery’s touch right in here; he’s a poetic beast – we are smiling; he knows he isn’t ‘beastly’ and neither are we …. we’re just in ‘some trouble’ right now – but everything is going to be just fine.)
For we’ve been caught in perfect storms before (and the Captain is reminding us again; sternly but with some sense of affection: it is not a perfect one; rather, it is an imperfect one, for WE are right here! – and we will survive together.)
We always have and he always does.
And we are starting to smile a little bit now (a grim sort of satisfied smile that flickers and reappears; quite a lot like that sun that was in “The Perfect Storm”).
And on a final note: something more serious here: we are going to start analyzing this thing:
For you see with DID its a little bit different, this perfect storm of ours. Like I said: it’s like a tiny boat full of survivors – a life raft it might appear – swelling and moving through them waves …. almost disappearing sometimes – but always uprighting itself and ‘moving on’.
And when you are a DID survivor – there’s always a ‘perfect storm’ sometimes – for someone inside. Not always; not meaning that – it’s just there’s the chance there could be; and you ALWAYS have to keep a watch for them: meaning Matthew and my little children, and some others that are on inside (including , hate to say it, my dear Captain my friend.)
So we sail on hoping (and knowing!) – that somewhere ahead lays calm waters; a blue horizon, and a bright sun. We know we will get there some of the time – and some of the time we will not. Until then …. we will go on riding – riding out this “Perfectly Imperfect Storm” of ours.