To be honest, as I sit here thinking about my childhood, I can’t think of a single happy moment that didn’t also involve some kind of abuse or neglect. However, had you asked me about my childhood when I was growing up, I would have said it was a fairly normal childhood.
I think the attachment issues I have kept me from connecting to other kids enough to realize what went on in our family and community circle was not normal. I didn’t connect the dots.
To be fair, there are some photographs that I don’t remember that make it look like a few happy moments, but unfortunately those memories are not stored in my memory bank, and I am guessing someone else inside my mind holds those memories, if they were indeed happy or normal. For me, they are just snapshot memories with no stories to go with them.
When I think back on my childhood like this, I think it is impossible I do not have better memories. If my life was truly so trauma filled, how or why did I survive?
The “trauma experts” will tell you that I used this ingenious way to survive by creating alternate personalities/identities to handle trauma and other parts of my life, which resulted in me developing Dissociative Identity Disorder.
However, since there was no textbook, no discussion with anyone about what this looks like, and no promise that my life would be better off by surviving, I question whether it was ingenious or even good. Please note that this is only my opinion. The majority of the world disagrees with me, and hopefully they are right.
Being a child developing DID to deal with horrific abuse in your life seems like a good thing to do. I believe most humans are have programmed in our DNA to survive, so this is my only explanation for why it happened to me. And I say “happened to me” because I did not plan or intend for it myself. I am just one of the “lucky” ones who survived.
Here’s the thing the cheerleaders (the ones who think it is ingenious) of DID tend to leave out: if you have a moderate to severe case of DID (it is on a spectrum), your adult life can be a living hell that you may or may not get some level of recovery from.
In 2017, we have “DID experts” who will say you can be completely cured (meaning your personalities integrated into one), and others who will work with their clients to improve their quality of life as the goal, and don’t believe integration is possible. I don’t know who is right or wrong in this opinion, but I do also know there are so many factors that play into how an adult who gets adequate treatment fares in their adult life that no one can say for certain what the outcome will be. And adequate treatment is extremely hard to come by.
I call this blog “Mistaken Survival” because my life as an adult with what some would call a “complicated” or “severe case” of DID has been it’s own version of hell. Had I known this would be my life, I am not sure I would have picked survival at this cost if I was given the choice. Of course, no one asked me to begin with, so I suppose it is a moot point. And, I do try to keep in mind my life is not over with yet, so to be like a human, I do try to hold onto some hope.
My clock is ticking. I have some wonderful people who are trying to help me. I want so badly for a better life, mainly because I have children I would like to see grow up into healthy adults. I am also curious to know what it is like to be happy. I have never known happiness the way most people do. That would be cool.
I also don’t want to leave this world worse off for people with DID who get treated so poorly. Education, resources, and compassion are just a few of the needs not currently available to those with DID. We are the secret mental illness, and the reasons for that secrecy are wide and will be discussed in other blog posts. But, those of us with DID are the victims of horrific abuse. Stop treating us like monsters or circus acts, or portraying us as the villains in movies.
I may not be able to save myself with my ticking clock, but I do hope to help others who come behind me. I hope I can convince you to join the ride.