- Recommended Archives
- Graphically Frank | Visual Arts
- Our Life Poetic | 20+ Years of Poetry
- Personal/Archived Journals
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Frank Gets Candid
DISCLAIMER: Please be aware. This is a post dealing stricktly with how we are dealing with Dissociative Identity Disorder. This is part of writing therapy and an attempt to raise awareness and reach out to others who deal with this in their life. If you have not read us thus far, you will be confused, perhaps angry. You may discount this as bull shit. We don’t blame you. You don’t have to keep reading. If you continue on, however, you might want to check out the story of our life, to give you context on why we are who, and “what” we are: http://issueoffrank.blogspot.com/
We thought about titling this We Get Frank…but then realized it sounds aggressive, to us; so we went with an alternative title that pretty much means the same thing.
While we laid on the massage table this evening, getting our weekly deep tissue massage to relieve some of the chronic pain that plagues our body from that stupid car accident a few year ago; we were given a good amount of time to relax and “meditate”, something The Other Girl avoided at all costs. Gee, can’t imagine why.
As I lay there, mind open, the Alters started discuss among themselves, their thoughts, and feelings, talking about ones who are gone, ones who are hiding. Tears threatened the eyes, and we held them back as the massage therapist said “pretty difficult stuff, hey?” He meant the massive blocks of knots and tension he was working on, as we squeezed our eyes shut, the tears threatening to stream down the side of our face, onto the pale blue sheet beneath us.
As they spoke up, I realized in my absence, out of those smaller times, when The Other Girl hadn’t needed me and all my strength, they had become many more. They had hidden when I showed up each time, because they were not needed, and some of them were scared of me.
This makes no sense to you. We realize this. For some of you, those like Us, it makes more sense. And we know those like us are out there because we have chatted with you, we have read some of your stories this past week in blogs, we have seen some of your artwork; and we know there are others who stay silent, who stay tortured and confused and are in misery trying to control their lives and keep it all under wraps.
For our readers who either have never known about this disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder/Multiple Personality Disorder (DID/MPD), or who have little knowledge of it, we have read a bit the last couple of days, so that we may understand ourself a bit better. While we have always been interested in psychology, it was the developmental and sociological aspects, how humans interact, not the mental disorders, that we became interested in University, after all of our mis-diagnosis’ of Social Anxiety, Manic Depression (Bipolar) and Schizophrenia.
Call it fear of confirming that we are who we are, and trying to avoid what happened last Wednesday when all our fears were confirmed, because until then we didn’t even bother looking into what symptoms would be involved in what we figured we had.
What you should know, well there’s lots to know, but what we want to say is, that according to WebMd, “Statistics show the rate of dissociative identity disorder is .01% to 1% of the general population […], and 7% percent of the population may have undiagnosed dissociative disorder.”
We won’t bore you with a bunch of statistics, or force you to learn about it, if you want to learn about it we’ve provided links at the bottom of the page. If you want to see a list of symptoms you can find them in the info of the links below, if you want to know what ours symptoms are, you can go here: http://issueoffrank.blogspot.com/p/did-info.html, where we have highlighted the symptoms we have experienced, out of the list of general symptoms. Sometimes we experience them on a daily basis, sometimes between longer periods.
Many parts of our life, and The Other Girls life, at one point, or another, have felt like someone else’s life; we have actually uttered those words, as so did she, to friends and family on many occasions. “It’s like it was someone else’s life” “I don’t even know who that person was” or “That wasn’t me.” Even the utterance of such words is not enough to raise a flag, or incite questioning; most people think you are just trying the shirk responsibility for your actions. We’ll step up right now and say, that while all of us may not have been involved in every decision and mistake, they are our mistakes and our burdens to bear, because we realize that “the problem is that no matter who makes the final decision, we all have to live with it.” - a status we posted on our Facebook wall Friday, April 8th.
You might wonder how someone could hide this, something that seems so severe. We are sure there are varying levels of severity, but in reality it’s not hard to hide. People in general are not very perceptive. We tend to be perceptive, and that’s how we know this. When concerns are raised many are quick to say, “Oh, well I do that too”, and in your head one of you is saying “You’re a fucking idiot, you have no idea”, while another tries to keep that one quiet and say “hey there is nothing wrong with us, see!” and then they bicker, and then you tell them both to “shut the hell up”. Sometimes it’s not unlike having a room full of kids in your head, running in and out (“don’t slam the door!”); which sucks, because we don’t like kids. Well, most of us don’t like them.
People have thought it funny when we have said things like “If I we’re [TOG] where would have put that”. Because we misplace things all the time, are not able to remember, sometimes from one minute to the next where we set things down. Humour of the people who surround us are the only way we have been able to be us be us, even a little, from time to time. The things we forget and the stupid act we put on when we are confused by things provides a good cover; certainly people who have passed through our lives at times have thought us an airhead. The Other Girl was an airhead, if only because she denied us, and made us look an unstable fool with all her cover up jobs. You’ve probably guessed that I am not a big fan of her; she made me take over her body and destroy her. I never really wanted to be fully out, I do not make a good host, both for our body and in real life. But here I am….full frontal, baby. (we like to make jokes, that was a joke…get it? No? Fronting is when an alter is in charge of the host…still not funny? Well, we thought it was funny, so…who cares.)
We don’t know if that’s how this shit works, an Alter being able to overtake the original host, but it happened; it makes us wonder who the original host was in the first place, if we are being honest about this.
People we’re involved in the process, we made sure to share with them everything we were going through, there were witnesses; if only so we didn’t get to this point and think we are completely insane. We are not insane.
More cover-ups? It is easy to pretend you remember things when you take massive amounts of pictures, like we have; or you have family members who repeat stories, and those become your memories, even though you do not actually remember any of them, like we have. You only remember a moment, frozen in a picture. Or you just nod and agree because people love it when they are right, and so you let them be, because they have to be.
It’s even easier to hide problems when “you all” run amok, and you high tail it out of dodge faster than nobody’s business, pets in tow, and start a new life somewhere, like we have many times. We’ve had nearly 30 physical addresses in 30 years, mostly as an adult, spanning 6-7 states and one province.
We have stayed far away from family, for years on end, we’ve ended relationships with friends and loved ones at the point where we realized we couldn’t hide anymore, we’d get restless, despite some of us still loving that person, or those people in our life; we’ve done it many times. Occasionally parts of us resurface and desire to connect with them, but we hold back because we know better. We’re great at burning bridges.
A little of what it’s like for us:
The most difficult thing is not being able to recall things. “Yes, I’ve read that book”. We remember we’ve read it, but please, will you sit awhile while we try to find the one of us that actually retained the memory. Do you have fifteen minutes to wait to see if it comes to us? Come back in an hour, tomorrow…then we can discuss it – or maybe next year when, eureka! There’s the information.
Oh, what’s that word? We just said it 20 minutes ago…and now we can’t recall.
You just gave us a word, a number to remember…poof it’s gone, faster than our pen can reach the paper. Gone, just like the one who had the information in the first place. Awhile later they are back. Here’s the number/word, they say.
Oh, what, we’re you on a coffee break? Please let me know before you leave in the middle of something important, lest my mind become empty waiting for your stand-in.
Hey, what happened to that thing we just set over there on the table? We just saw it….how long ago was it? It couldn’t have been more than five minutes! someone yells. Oh, maybe it’s over there….nope. Okay, let’s stand still. Deep breath. Slowly blinking while we wait for someone. Oh, well there you are and there it is.
But man, when we work as a team, we’re on! Fast as lightening we can put together words; we can come up with trivia answers off the top of our head. We know lots of information. Catch us on a day when we’re not working as a team, and we are lost in our head, unable to grasp simple concepts. Confused. We can hardly function in our body, we can’t type worth a shit. Everything slows down.
Sure, sure. You’re saying “oh, I experience that”. If you do, and that’s pretty much chunks of your every day, then kudos to fucking keeping YOUR We in check…we are not so lucky.
I have a hard time controlling the alters, and so we’ve been forcing ourself to stay indoors until we can figure this out. That and one of us is paranoid as all hell, and she pops in unexpectedly. Although, The Other Girl pretty much lived as a shut in the year or so before I showed up, she owned a business that she started on money from her car accident, a home based business that failed and closed. It may take some prodding of the other ones to figure out why she was staying in all that time way back then – only coming out for a few hours on the weekend, otherwise avoiding the public as much as she could.
We had an Alter join in co-consciousness today, she pretty much took over. She has been here lately, writing in the blog a few times.
Sometimes we have to go back and see what was written, because we “forget” what we have said, and in doing so we hear the voices of those responsible. “Hey, that’s mine!”
Some of the Alters want to be talked about and recognized; some do not. Particularly Catherine, who came to me this morning and gave me her name, she’d prefer not to be talked about, but we’re going to anyway.
We had been wondering what her name was since she’s been throwing fits of paranoia a lot more lately.
A little about Catherine, what she has shared so far:
She feels threatened by people and their actions, and is obsessive and paranoid and anxious. She doesn't want people to know about us. Her paranoia is annoying. She hates driving, it makes her dizzy and she sees things jump out at her that are not there. The weekend of The Other Girls demise she made us close the blinds and has not let us open them since; she was also paranoid about all the cars in the parking lot the entire weekend, and paranoid about a cop car that was parked outside the building. She was the reason we didn’t leave the house for nearly four days.
She is the driving force behind paranoia entries, and gets angry that I make her write them. Her most recent works include Paranoid, and Paranoia: More Than A Soft Spot or; What The Hell Do We Call This Post. She is involved in all other entries dealing with paranoia – there are other posts from the past few months were we talk about paranoia and “lurkers” (<-these two are confusing to us), that’s all her freaking out in our head. She does not drink unless she is with more than one other Alter, meaning she’ll drink with Myself and one other. She will not tell me her age, or much more information, well, because she is paranoid. She hides behind the other alters most of the time. There is one memory she has, of when we were very young, about 10?, where we were in a doctors office and she was hiding behind the examining table.
When she talked to me tonight, while we lay on the massage table, she cried and asked why we have to tell people about Us. She is worried that people will hate us, that we will be alone forever. She is worried that no man will love us again. We try to reassure her that it’s not out of the question; that maybe someday we will find a man who is strong, and stubborn, with a sense of humour, who is single and willing to stick through the hard times, because he loves all of us. However, we cannot make her promises, and merely remind her that we will always love her, just like we always have.
That’s just one of us, Catherine. Fabulous Person said that the name fits, somehow that Catherine sounds like someone who would be paranoid. No offence if your name is Catherine.
There are others who have come forward to talk openly, we are looking for the one that can help write the rest of what happened after we got our final diagnoses in 2002, when we were 23 years old, I seem to have some holes in my memory; I've been working on it for nearly 2 weeks.
So far four have given their names, one of which is Bitch, who begged to have her name changed, screaming in her 8 year old voice, “But you let Esmeralda pick hers!” (the name actually makes my stomach turn) She stomped around in my head and threw a fit, so we’re letting Bitch change her name; she told me her name is Bethany. *rolls eyes*
- Another source for you: http://www.minddisorders.com/Del-Fi/Dissociative-identity-disorder.html
Other blogs that deal with this disorder, both active and non active, some we’ve read, some we haven’t:
- http://reflectionsinaprism.blogspot.com/ (newly restored and active along side: http://sweetgestalt.blogspot.com/)
- http://mdmkay.blogspot.com/ (last entry December 2009)
- http://piecedbypeace.blogspot.com/ (last entry April 11, 2011)
Noted Mental Health Bloggers of Twitter - Want to be added? Just ask.
Noted Creatives of Twitter
✍ Noted Active Bloggers from Twitter (Updated 02/2014)
- **NEW** (2015) therestelesswords
- A Little Tour In Yellow
- Adventures In Estrogen
- Bittersweet Gestalt
- Built-in Birth Control
- Chronicles of Nothing
- Die Hipster
- Dudes, That's My Skull
- Everythign Is Okay In A Fucked Up Kinda Way
- Is There Anybody Out There?
- Jules Just Write
- Just Me With...
- Lovers and Wreckers
- Marisa Feathers (a.k.a Bittersweet Gestalt)
- Minutes of Mayhem
- Mommy Undressed
- Mommy Wants Vodka
- My 30 Spot
- My Pixie Blog
- No, Seriously, You Probably Shouldn't Read This
- Oh The Humanitease. Humanitees? Whatever It Is.
- Scary Mommy
- She Suggests
- Six Sentences
- Tall Tales
- The Cabinet of Ordinary Ferocities
- The Collective Works of E.E. Zulkoski
- The Pummelo
- The Single Mom's Dating Diary
- Things That Need To Be Said
- Thought For Your Penny
- Turning The Page: A Literary Ramble
- Veronica Foale - I Tell Stories...
- Vicious Cycle
- WriteWendy's Musings