Just When You Think There Are No More Surprises
. . . you learn something new. . . about yourself when you are a person within a DID system.
(M3 here: the adult, ‘grownup’ alter – husband, father, and the current ‘host’ of a wild gang & crew.)
We’ve been having parent problems lately. Hell, WE’VE always had “parent problems” – from the time we were born until . . .
Well, they’re still alive, aren’t they? So I (and we) can assume parent problems will progress. Our “ma” has started suffering oncoming dementia and “the old man” is in a nursing home, which is probably best for us, best for them, and the only thing that’s probably keeping him & her alive – saving her from the stress of having him in her life and him from her killing him. Yeah: she’s that kind of person.
But anyway . . .
lately we’ve had to start drawing some HARD boundaries with her. Firm, strict, no-nonsense, no slack, no cutting back over time, nor softening of position just because she is “family”. My wife & child understand. Most can’t. Some thing I am “disowning” her. In our society a man who shoves his momma aside is worse than dirt. Never mind she made him eat it. In our society a man who refuses to attend to his every elderly parent’s needs is seen as a bit of a heel. Never mind they all ground me beneath all of them. That doesn’t seem to count in this life time.
But because of her manipulations we’ve had to start drawing the lines. I think she’s kinda multiple, claiming not to remember a thing she did a few hours later – or sometimes she does. I’ve noticed they’re mostly things she doesn’t WANT to recall. She out & out refuses to acknowledge them – even to herself I think! – that they even happened to the faces of the persons she did them to! I think her’ old evil personality is starting to show its old teeth. It’s like a bit of her younger “evil” self is on the loose now that the dementia has begun to wear down inner restrictions & boundaries. It might be tau proteins between synapses is creating physical ‘walls’ between her ‘selves’, allowing more expression by individuals. Or it might just be Alzheimer’s kicking in. Who knows?
At any rate this hard drawing of boundaries and “lets talk business ONLY & keep your crap to yourself” came from a recent betrayal. And with it came a host of other “stuff” – things I’d almost forgotten – only I hadn’t. Read on . . . it’s an interesting antecedote about being an abused child. Because it’s like this: when something is such a normal day-to-day part of life you tend to forget it even happened. It’s like it’s hard to recall a single instance easily – but when you get down to it and start rubbing brain cells together out comes the memories like a magic genie to explain them . . .
I’d set up this a complicated affair dealing with the old man’s health & transportation. It involved the VA, a private nursing home, an ambulance contractor, and an “at-home-away-from-home” escort to accompany my father to his appointments. I worked all week to “make it happen”, informing ‘mom’ of the scheduling and contracts, etc. She agreed; said she wanted it: it takes a lot of burden off her increasing decrepit shoulders, and is at the request of my more wisely distant sibling(s). Then, at the LAST minute as we were preparing to sign down at the establishment, she refuses to sign, laughs in my face, said she was just telling me a lie so she could get me there – and in doing so undoing a lot of work. That smirk she shot really got me. Then laughing in my face TELLS me it was just a lie, and made quite intentionally in order to manipulate me.
I am not good with this. And why?
Because THIS was where the bright lights started popping on over the landscape. How they’d “done” me, all of them, me being the youngest monkey on their tree. How they’d offer a prize of some nature for some work or some kind of sacrifice. And when I’d done it, sweating my balls off sometimes – mowing the yard comes to mind, with the promise of ice cream if I would finish it – they’d yank away my prize. As in I’d come in all hot & sweating to find them around the table eating the very last of the ice cream, or putting it away & saying I could not have any; I’d worked too slow or was too late. And that is just one of HUNDREDS, if not thousands of examples of the prize held, and then snatched away – and usually presented to someone else, or given to my brother, or else I’d be told I really didn’t deserve it, or “we’re just going to put this up for you” when I’d win a cash award for my scholarship & studies and/or artwork. Always with the disappearing prizes and endless disappointments; always it was because I had not done something good enough to stand their inspection, or failed to meet some standard, or as some punishment for normal teenage behavior. This extended into my college career. A lot of promises which failed to appear and left me homeless, and up to my ears in bad things (like drugs & crime & that sort of thing). My parents literally abandoned me when I was 17. And their stomping of my dreams extended to the art career I was supposed to have & didn’t because when it came time – when I’d done all they had done suggested and asked – I got F’d because they wouldn’t pay the fee ($350 in 1977) to pursue my dream . . .
It was just one thing TOO damn many this time. As I told my dad: she has nothing I want, nor need. I have no use for your woman. And even he agrees she’s a toxic bitch; always has been, but increasingly so through the years . . .
Now: Getting onto this “discovering” of things . . . and “tricks” your alter(s) can play on you. And for you monominds out there: you don’t get it, I don’t think – how this can work this way. Which is why so many say DID-MPD/BPD isn’t real; that it’s all an act. I can assure you that it isn’t. Not at all. Not for me & ‘us’.
I can rarely play chess – no one to play with except my dad. BUT . . . whenever I want to go out there the pain of my disability ALWAYS seems to kick up so bad I have to take my pain pills & lay around. I cannot get there. And I noticed today as I prepared for the 3rd time this week to go & have some ‘fun’ & see my dad . . . this bone-aching ache across the neck & shoulders, really bad . . . & I lay down . . . and a hunch, or suspicion started to form because I had felt FINE up until about an hour to go . . .
And sure enough it was 13. (“13” is a 13 year old personality, very hard, very cold, very distant, and a true nerd. But HE was the one who wanted to be a Machine – and DID – building ‘us’ one and putting us all in it for a long, long time. About 10 years or so for the most of us. And it was very hard on him & us all. He was the young Master at the time.)
So it turns out that this “grudge” my 13 year old personality holds against my dad (and he has his reasons) causes this “young person” or part of my person to suddenly take hold – by the nape of the neck, no doubt! (I am laughing about that!) – and tensions & tightens the muscles to the point of spasms . . .
just to keep us home and THAT part from having to deal with my dad. And the thing is “he” contains several personalities within HIM, like a lot of the younger ones he was built to protect (replacing “10”, who was a slight replacement, or somewhat modification, to the 8 year old “person” or personality who has an alter all HIS own which we have long called “Mikie” but which is just a projection of the 8 year old alter in control at the time.)
Gets complicated, doesn’t it. Sorry about that. But basically it boils down to here I THOUGHT I had my ‘system’ down; no new worries, and any new alters are welcome, and ‘everyone’ inside seemed all right and all – the “Family” & Crew is getting along okay – hell, we were even doing some work analyzing “the Crowd” trying to figure out what THEY are or could be . . .
When here comes some new news which we should’ve expected (and probably would’ve if we had a good therapist) – that ol’ “13” – or any alter – CAN CAUSE PHYSICAL PROBLEMS AND/OR AGONY. Which we knew about that . . . but us? When we’re all doing so “okay”?
Seems ridiculous, but the funnier thing is . . .
As soon as we “acknowledged” who and where the pain came from? It went away . . . just gradually eased up and in about 10 minutes we were fine, went out to see him, and got our asses whooped in chess . . .
once again the old master proves he is still king of his kingdom (the chessboard) . . .
and 13 proved: he still has quite a bit of swing, even for a thirteen year old who’s over 50.