DID & Me: Example

True to my blog, I must post this, like it or not.  However, (and I’m amused here) – I  realize it’s been a few days since I posted.  Not that I’ve been ‘unaware’ of time trotting along; it’s just sometimes ‘me’ (the adult ‘alter’, M3) . . . well, you just gotta go along with the system, and “we’ve” been having some problems for some time . . . (meaning mostly it’s been “13” and our little Michael/aka Mikie – with ‘me’, the adult alter – running the show).

Okay – if you aren’t DID you probably aren’t going to follow this blog entry; if you are  . . . well, you know . . . but I’m hoping it helps some other folks out some, or perhaps just gives more insight into the “DID mind” – or mine – or someone’s down the way . . .

The other day my wife came home and wanted to go to the home improvement store to look at some tile we were going to buy.  Now I’ve been kinda making a list in my head of what we need: things for the yard, flowers I’ve wanted to buy . . .

So my spouse and I go to leave the house, but we’re delayed because I keep wandering around looking around for something, though I’m not certain what it is.  You know that feeling that you are forgetting something, right?  Well, for a certain part of me (or several parts, I don’t know) – I get this deep rooted sense of panic sometimes when something ‘gets lost’.  I don’t know what I feel that thing; just that it “is”.  I can only suppose it came from losing too many things during my childhood and/or getting violently and/or severely punished for that (and that, I hear a little voice saying, ‘is true’.)  So . . . despite a lack of memory or reason for that feeling, I’m feeling it anyway, over something I felt I’d “lost” but not knowing – but not knowing what it is!  It goes like that sometimes – this panicked sense of anxiety arising from nothing at all – but it’s about something; I just can’t figure out what it is.

But . . . don’t get upset cuz’ “I” don’t get upset – I mean it’s like it’s not even ‘mine’; this anxiety or something; et all, what all – whatever.  I just kinda ‘hold it off’ and examine it . . . after all, I’m used to this: oddball emotions suddenly arriving without notice or any discernible outside – or inside! – trigger.

So I’m feeling this growing anxiety as we get in the car; I’m distracted as I drive down the road; I’m letting “one” part of my mind do the driving (the Marine) – while “I’m” querying all my ‘known’ personalities, ghosts and sides looking for ‘who’ is doing this.  About halfway to the store I get that it’s “13”; a rather hard yet somewhat logical kid who’s been hurt alot – and in ‘his arms’ (meaning he feels responsible for ‘him’) is our young ‘son’; our former self and host from our childhood (little Michael, who has projected a ‘part’ of himself so long it took on a life of it’s own and is known as “little Mikie”).  Go figure: one is the ‘real’ child; the one in myself – and another is a ‘creation’ of his (little Mikie) who is what he wanted to be (in some ways – and in some ways NOT an appropriate child since this is the one who would go to bed with you – or anyone else if that person asked and he kinda liked him) . . .

Because I’ve been paying attention more to ‘what in the heck is going on? I learned a bit more how things work for ME: it’s a kind of tier based system right now; going by groups and ages (and ‘things’ – meaning I’m not really quite sure).  Little Michael is control by ‘the other one’ (who would be “13”), who is in turn ‘controlled’ (albeit somewhat; just the behaviors and not his – 13’s – own emotions) – by the teenager in me, who was the host for so long (13-18 years old? Until “21” appeared).

But . . . getting back to the story.  I make this decision NOT to buy some flowers and potting soil (which it turns out we NEED the latter, LOL!) – and immediately I find myself “switching” – going from “me, the Marine, and my teen” to “me, 13, and our ‘inner child’, little Michael – and I’m socked with this feeling of anguish and grief – depression, in other words – and again, sort of out of the blue. . . .

That’s okay; we leave, I’m feeling this kind of anxiety and stuff – no big problem, I’m keeping it inside and the smile for the wife – “faking it” in other words; keeping my mouth closed – a bit too closed and she knows somethings come over me (but she doesn’t ask; she never does; and I can’t force myself to volunteer) . . . . get in the car and “the Marine” – who is an excellent driver, by the way, is driving while I “feel up” (LOL) my self and inner ones, trying to find the source of this thing – and along comes ’13’ inside with all his issues – complaining about this little child who wanted something from the store . . . but I can’t figure out what it is.

Kinda goes like that sometimes.  I go in the store; we ALL look at some tile; make some decisions and selections – and I walk outta there without buying nuthin’ for myself, I kinda reneged on my agreement with myself and selves and ‘I’ . . .

Now I won’t lie to you: i know what he wanted; he wanted some “little flowers” (actually some fairly big ones – Gerber Daisies were in his mind) to go into a corner (pocket) garden of mine – but that garden is too shadowy for daisies.  So I don’t buy them; nor do I buy the potting soil I had thought I wanted for the front gardens but actually needed to do some transplanting with . . .

So I get home.

Okay, lets skip back some.

Right there in the store I’m walking along – we’ve made our decision not to buy anything (in the gardening section at least) – and ‘wham!’ – it hits me.  Like a squalling child; like a severely depressed one – affecting my mood and ‘things’ all over.  Suddenly I go from a ‘bright happy go-lucky’ kinda attitude to doom, gloom, and depression.  Now I’m fighting it, of course – but ‘that part’ of me isn’t going to settle down . . .

It’s been a few days now.  I’m feeling a little bit better; albeit the emphasis is on ‘little’.  I’ve ‘reassured’ my child somewhat that planting gardens are a good idea; ‘we’ just can’t use the kind of plant I want . . . or ‘he’ wants


I’ve been admiring the flowers outside we have planted; liking them, looking at all the pretty colors . . . that helps some.

I wish the dogs hadn’t destroyed so many of my gardens outside; they destroyed everything.

The sunflowers are still surviving, but it won’t be long before this summer heat gets them.

And I’ve gotten back to writing again, albeit just a bit.

And the wife has enjoyed all the attention it brings (‘we’, my inner child and I, along with “13” have been hanging around her for a few days; she comforts them some (without knowing) but I rather suspect she suspects something of my ‘younger ones’ is out and about with her doing things . . .

So it’s not “all bad” and it’s not “all good” and we’re getting the part of the kitchen tiled this weekend, LOL . . .

eof. 🙂


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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2 Responses to DID & Me: Example

  1. Michael says:

    We often go with what is wanted if we can. As an example. There was a slab we had from a log. It had a branch on it. One wanted to leave it in the yard and have it grow. Some of us figured it would not grow. We did it anyway. It was interesting to watch how long it lasted. Now that is over and we put the slab away.

    For us the thinking we forgot something or having to look for something in of it’s self causes us to start get upset no matter what it is. This disappears completely if we are in charge and goes minor if there is someone around.

    Another example. We got some more stuff for the garden. As far as some of us are concerned it is never all going to fit. Some of us think they have a plan. Way it works is they may have a plan that works. Much of it is not holding others to a standard that none of us meet.


    • jeffssong says:

      🙂 The unplanned plan that works out like you had a plan . . . which you did and didn’t know it, LOL. Turns out some part of me is responsible for some pretty long range plans which apparently I am still working on . . . and still don’t know what they are / I’m doing! Kind of a grim faith in ‘the process’ I reckon


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