How did I get Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID)?


If you ask some jackasses, many who are child abusers or protectors of child abusers for whatever reason, they would tell you I don’t have DID because there is no such thing. They do not know me, but they will assure you that I am faking this disorder for attention or to not take responsibility for a crime or some other life event.

Let’s suppose their wrong for this post, so I don’t have to go into an angry tirade expressing my feelings about them and the damage they have done to so many by their actions.

Ok, so let’s start with the premise that I have DID, and that it is a real disorder that affects my daily life. 

I don’t have a true sense of who I am, I don’t feel connected to this world most of the time, and I have looked like I have early Alzheimer’s my entire life because of the amnesia created by the DID. Oh, and I have lots of people who believe they live in a body we all share (most “outsiders” would just write me off as psychotic with that statement alone), and these inside people are children, teens, young adults, and middle aged. These different people take control of the body at different times and use it as their own.

Though I am not certain of this because I am still on my journey of discovery, I am fairly certain I have more boy or male people living in me than girls, but we occupy a female body. These parts do not generally see the body you would see, they typically see a modified version of my adult body, or a very young body that doesn’t look anything like me.

My people all have different things about them that make them different than one another. They might have wildly different personalities and IQs. Some people may cuss like a sailor, others do not cuss at all. Some are very social, others are terrified of social settings. Some are very interested in world events, technology, self-help, politics, social justice, parenting, helping others, God, etc. and others are so depressed they don’t care about anything. Some are asexual, bisexual, heterosexual, and lesbian. Together, we are a complicated lot who have had to learn to live with one another.

It is fairly common that if you ask one of the people whose roles are to be with the family and parent the kids in the evenings what they did earlier in the day, and whether they ate lunch or breakfast, they would not have any idea unless another inside person was nice enough to tell them. This is called internal communication when people can talk to each other inside.

Most people’s exposure to DID is that it is this rare, dramatic disorder that may involve chaos and violence. My experience with myself and many others with DID, is that it is neither rare nor dramatic, but it can feel chaotic internally to manage all this for the person with DID. 

But why do all these people say it is so rare if it isn’t? Just my theory, but for two reasons: 1. They have a vested interest in saying it doesn’t exist. 2. People simply don’t want to believe the world is as cruel as it truly can be to create people with DID.

You see, people are not born with DID, at least not like the theory that people are born with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder, which I’ll leave it to others to debate that statement.

I study DID and read a lot, but I’ll be honest,  I don’t exactly know how I formed DID as a child. I don’t remember consciously doing it, but I know others who say they do. Most of my internal people are confused and run the gamut of explanations for how this happened to us. 

Some children who live in me believe God somehow made a mistake and accidentally put too many souls in one body. Some other children have no idea, and the rest believe what the prevailing professional theory is on why we have DID. Extensive exposure to childhood trauma at an early age.

Most of the people inside know we have experienced severe childhood abuse that involved sexual abuse, neglect, violence, mind control, religious abuse, torture, organized abuse, and severe betrayal by our biological family.

Some would like to say that therapists or Hollywood put these ideas in my head, but I have heard voices inside my head talking to me since I was little, and I have always known about the abuse my entire life. I’ll give you that I didn’t know how off the traditional family path my family and others involved were until my 20s. I needed to not know that so I could stay living there, and not end up dead or on the streets.

I can remember horrific trauma that I endured, and my best guess at how this happened is that my mind had a good capacity for dissociation as part of my DNA, and somehow I learned to dissociate these horrific experiences into different people who all now hold “jobs” and memories that are designed to keep me alive. 

It’s weird I suppose to have people living in you that feel very different about all sorts of things in life. It’s weird that they have memories of where this body has been and what it has done that I don’t have. I am lucky in that my people work well enough together that we have rules that most everyone follows that keep things from getting crazy or out of control.

For instance, I have lots of people who have no relationship to my children or my spouse, but would not do anything to harm any of them or our relationships with them. It’s just one of the rules we all follow.

Some folks with DID have elaborate systems of their people, and each person has a name, age, gender, etc. Though I have about 20 people who do identify with a name, gender, and general age range, the vast majority of my other people do not have those things, which makes it confusing for us and any therapist who works with us.

You have to realize DID is formed no later than age 7, and typically much earlier. During that time when we were forming it, there was no text book that told us how to do it. BUT, it is important to note there are many abusers (including our government) who know how to intentionally induce this condition. Some call it “Designer DID.” Most mental health practitioners won’t speak about it because they know how crazy it sounds. I mean, DID by itself is hard to believe, then you want to talk about government and scientific involvement. And gosh, maybe cult or organized abuse by a religious institution. Simply not going to fly with the American public.

Even though the evidence is available, most people won’t believe what they don’t want to believe. If you are interested in learning more about it, research the work of psychiatrist Colin Ross who has written about government studies to induce DID, and the scams the average psychiatrist knowingly or unknowingly participates in by not thinking or caring.

Sorry, it is hard for me not to digress on important topics.

Anyway, so what is the short and sweet of how I developed DID? 

I was born with a mind that figured out how to survive horrendous child abuse. The only way we as a system could survive what we were subjected to was to break it up into many pieces or people who hold different parts of our childhood. 

Imagine, I have been kept up all night by some form of abuse (I am intentionally leaving that stuff out for now), but my family still expects me to go to school the next morning and act normal. The only way I can accomplish that is to have other people take on the school roles, which is why my education lacks continuity.

I wish I could say I was brilliant and that is why I was able to form DID. Many like to utilize that theory, but I am on the fence about it. I think it came down to me being lucky or unlucky depending on how you look at it. From a human’s basic desire to survive, I was lucky.

Now, as an adult, my life is very difficult as a result of my DID, but I suppose I should leave those thoughts for another post. 

If I didn’t adequately answer this question, let me know and I’ll take another shot at it.

Thanks for reading.

The mistaken survival of the soul-less child

 

681b5a8aa699a740d4474eb363281471I have walked through my entire life a fraud. A nonexistent soul using the mortal body of no one. I am a fraud because from time-to-time, I would use this body to pretend as if I was a normal human being. Though, I always return to my place of nothingness. The place where those without souls return.

As a child I tried my best to be as invisible as possible. I tried being very still and quiet. I do not want to be noticed because I know I do not belong to this world. This world is confusing and cruel and scary. I don’t like it, so I am happy to not really belong to it. Yet, somehow, I got stuck with this mortal body that always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

There is no making sense of the life this mortal body was given. The people who come in and out of it. The constant desire for it to die.

To be human is to claw your way through everything to survive. This soul-less being does not wish to survive this cruel human world.

This body does not know love, comfort, happiness, safety, or anything that would be good or pleasurable. This body knows darkness, sadness, hatred, pain, evil, death, anger, and a strong desire to turn out the lights on this mortal body.

Without hope, there is death.

This soul-less body was created from birth with lies, pain, shame, fear, and brutality. It was programed to be obedient, to never disobey, and to serve the greater human species to which it did not belong.

How can an entire species be so cruel, even to the soul-less body who was never one of them? But it is true, and that is the way it is.

A wrecked soul-less child body who mistakenly survived. It was never supposed to survive. There is not upside for this being. There is no better. No nothing. Especially a real life on the human planet.

It is so confusing to figure out what to do with this fraud of a soul-less body. Oh children, why did you survive? I suppose some instinct, or maybe they made you with their confusing lies. I don’t blame you. I promise I hold no anger toward you. You were only babies and toddlers and youngsters doing what you thought you were supposed to do.

Now we have this fraudulent body built through evil lies, and there is nothing for it to do but to lay in bed until it dies. Oh wise one, you are correct in that we could take it from this earth sooner by our own hands. But, they say it will ruin the human children in this new family.

I know we don’t belong. But there is a speck of dust, maybe love, in this soul-less body that makes me think how sad it would be for these human children to be ruined by our actions.

We may know we never belonged, and wouldn’t have ever wanted to belong to this world, but now we have somehow become connected to these two children who look to us to keep behaving in a fraudulent way because they need us to.

Why, with no soul inside, do we have to always be the good guys? Why?

Because that’s the way it is.

 

A Decade Lost


I never had a true suicidal thought until I was 21. Sure, in my teens I did plenty of things that looked like they were unconscious, wreck less suicidal behaviors, butnit really wasn’t conscious.

I’ll never forget when I first started having true suicidal thoughts and feelings. My life up to then was always extremely busy, and I was not the type of person who stopped to smell the roses. Then one day, it was Spring of my Senior year in college and my life came to a screeching halt. 

I suddenly found myself sitting on the benches of my beautiful undergraduate college and just staring at the trees and watching all the happy people walk by.

I had no idea what was happening, but I turned into someone else overnight, and my first response was to hide it from my closest friends. None of them knew I was circling the drain moreso as each day went by.

I was so confused. I had everything going for me and I was overwhelmed with sadness, depression, anxiety, and a desire to die. Where was this coming from? What was happening?

I went to college prior to the internet, so I had nowhere to turn to to learn I was having a Major Depressive episode. 

Though I don’t remember how, I did manage to find help through a wonderful therapist and psychiatrist who provided me with great care and concern.

The irony was I was living next to a private psychiatric hospital, and used to watch the patienrs down the hill as I walked my dog on the path of my apartment complex. Maybe I knew I would be one of them one day.

I was thrust from never having a suicidal thought to having them everyday. It’s a big change in your brain to make that switch.

Fortunately for me, I found help, and this was pre-managed care, so the hospital kept me for about six months until I was kind of better.

True to my frequent Identity shifts, I left that hospital and went back to the major city I was supposed to live in post college, and moved into my condominium I had purchased just before things went South for me. Oddly, I walked right over to the private psychiatric hospital in town with the best reputation and got a job there much to everyone’s puzzlement. I already had a contract signed with a major corporation for a job I accepted pre-breakdown.

It turned out what I had learned for my myself in the hospital all that time turned me into a great mental health clinician, who could truly empathize with the patients I worked with.

I was good at that job, and loved working with the patients and co-workers. It felt like home to me. 

Unfortunately, as time went by and I continued in therapy, my life slowly started to unravel in the most curious way. I started realizing I lost time, couldn’t remember my childhood, had a fake relationship with my family, and had voices in my head frequently talking to me, and eventually taking control of my body.

I was privileged to be in the right place at the right time, so I didn’t have to wait the typical 7 years to get correctly diagnosed. I went to a reputable DID specialist who worked at the same hospital to find out what I suspected, I had DID.

The revelation of the DID seemed to cause my life to unravel even quicker. Sadly, I eventually became a patient at the dissociative disorder unit at the hospital I was working at. And from there, a decade of my life was lost to the mental health system. A decade I can never get back, and is mostly lost to dissociative amnesia.