To D.I.D. or Not to D.I.D.? That is the Question . . .

“Battling DID.”  “Combating DID.”  Those are not phrases that I think should be heard, nor apply towards someone with a dissociative identity diagnosis/disorder or disease.  “Battling” implies beating someone down.  You don’t want to do that in a DID/MPD sort of system.

Everyone deserves respect, even when it comes to ‘battling’ insiders.  They are all there for some reason – even if the reason may not exist – and (as we have found), each possesses some special qualities about ‘you’.

I’ve noticed in a number of DID persons that their “upper” limit is three: three personalities ‘on top’, aware, and functioning at the same time.  Typically one of them is the ‘host’ being.  In our case we have 3: the oldest ‘host’, Mikie; Matthew, the teenager alter (but I was ‘all’ him – or him me – for awhile); and then “me”, the current adult host.  (I hate that word; host implies a parasitic being; the parts and alters in me are not ‘parasitic’ – they are just parts and sides to my own self, only well defined.  And some of them are ‘stuck’ in time and/or circumstances which no longer exist.  However, that does not make them more or less ‘real’.  It also makes for some pretty conflicted emotions – always.   Hate and love at the same time; loving and liking and being grossed out – all at the same time.  Things like that.

But I’ve begun to suspect in ‘normal’ people it’s like ALL the parts must ‘exist’ and be aware and ‘doing’ at the same time.  I don’t know; I don’t know what it’s like to be ‘one’.  Never did.  (Started ‘separating’ most definitely by three years old, if not a tad bit sooner.)

I know when I managed to get ‘all on top’ – sliding seamlessly from ‘one’ being/state to another – full of my mind running – it was great.  It only happened that one time – but even then, I was not “one”.  I was still a multi-mind; however, I was using the system to it’s fullest extant – I guess.  I didn’t know about all the parts I’m missing – though it put me on track with some of those who did. (Meaning parts of myself ‘opening up’ and helping me with those transitional victims of mine; those who suffered some ‘worse’ kind of abuse that they won’t talk to me, show me images, or let me know.)

Get this now – this is strange.

As a military child I don’t recalling moving.  Not one time.  And yet we did – 4 times – when I was 9 years old.  And many times in the years after.  I can recall that I did move – when turn up in a new location – have some (just a few) ‘pictures’ and images in my head; ‘videos’ of the various locations – but nothing about packing, moving, getting there, unpacking, making my bed –  anything.

You would think someone like me could remember events like that.  The best I can do is see my momma teaching me at (9? 10?) years old how to pack glasses and such . . . after that it goes all dim and dark, like moving was traumatic or something.

Odd things; chunks missing out of my life; ‘persons’ caught (and missing) at 9 years old, 10 or such – “13”, that strange … kid.  Other ones.  And with it can go skills (what am I missing?  I don’t know.  Jealousy is one I know.)

And that gets back into the “battling” of alters; and the Denial of DID.  I catch myself doing that sometimes – going “I don’t have DID, dammit.  I don’t, I don’t.  It’s just some lie I’m making up to myself . . .” and then start ‘forcing’ those personalities down . . .

and I can feel the diminishment in my being.  My emotions go away.  And if I’m not careful – putting ‘away some’ – I can lose my skills for driving – for doing anything!  Matthew is our most trained one (makes sense; he was in the age these skills were being learned, used, and honed) – I wouldn’t have any woods survival skills; very few ‘warring’ skills . . . I wonder if the martial arts would be gone?  (Don’t know . . . but I’ve learned.)  Putting away little Mikie is damaging to myself – I lose so much with that child!  Artwork and entertainment in the ‘natural’ world.  Without him it just becomes so much detached scientific knowledge (what years of biology school will do to you).

But I Beware the Feeding of the BAD WOLF.  That is to say: I am somewhat reluctant not only to ‘feed’ this thing . . . but even give into the entertaining of the idea (the dissolution of the DID being).  It seems to me acknowledging ‘other’ personalities started this thing . . . but I was emotionally and mentally so much worse without them (severe depression, suicidal cutting, falling . . . falling . . .); while on the other hand I’ve done so much better embracing this thing.  My wife says I act twenty-five years younger – I’ve made her laugh (or rather, WE have made her laugh; it was the younger ‘parts’ of me ‘expressing’) – more than she has in years.  She wants to help me some . . . but I am very wary of ‘feeding the wolves’ . . . yet the only other option is to embracing the wolf, and making him my own . . . loving him (or them)

Turning the wolves into friends; loyal companions for life – all of them, all my ‘wolves’ inside . . . ‘feeding’ them and taming them (Matthew needs to learn some manners – and how to show his heart; Mikie needs some learning on ‘how to be a human being’).  No more ‘battling’ nor battle through denial . . . but embracing it?  Seems odd to me . . . (shaking my head; I don’t want this to be done) . . . and yet it seems much better for me – and Matthew, if he can take it . . . (he needs to do this one two)

Two paths to take: Fight and ‘win’ – or embrace and give in.   And two of us to “do it”.  (Matthew & me; tho’ to be honest – he’s more cooperative about it than I am, me being the ‘adult being’.)  Giving into madness in once sense of the word . . . giving in to the whole thing . . . giving it ‘up’ and ‘killing my selves’ within (gee . . . gawd, I think I already tried that one, boss <-Matthew speaking; now I’m laughing somewhat bitterly, agreeing with him; yeah we did, didn’t we . . .)

LOL.  When it comes down to it . . . I don’t think I’m gonna have much choice . . . ‘they’ will always be there . . .

Until later . . . time to ‘think on’.

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About jeffssong

JW is an adult childhood abuse survivor with DID*. He grew up in a violent family devoid of love and affection. He is a military brat and veteran. He no longer struggles with that past. In 1976 JW began writing "The Boy". It took 34 years to complete. It is currently on Kindle (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004T3IVKK ), or if you prefer hard copy, on Amazon ( http://www.amazon.com/Boy-J-W/dp/1461022681). JW resides somewhere in the deep South. He is disabled and living with family. Note: Please feel free to take what you need; all is free to all. With that in mind, keep it that way to others. Thank you. We have 3 Blogs - One for our younger days, 0-10 (The Little Shop of Horrors); one for our Teen Alter and his 'friends' (also alters) with a lot of poetry; and finally "my" own, the Song of Life (current events and things)
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