Yep. It's a DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) related post.
They happen.
Don't know what DID is? You should probably scout around either this blog (http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/p/recommended-archives.html), or reliable online sources, to find out.
One thing I'm not sure we write about often, if at all, is impulse. The impulse to hurt people, or ourselves.
Now, not sure if "impulse" is the right word to describe this or not, but hallucination feels...somehow wrong. Visions seem wrong.
Though probably any of these could be appropriate, and perhaps we are just denying them because of the connotations they bring to mind.
The other night we were laying in bed with James and he was asleep, we had just closed the device we use to play a game most of us enjoy playing (Jewels Star) and lay in bed unable to sleep...and a strange...impulse...okay, fine...vision (it just seems crazy that way :-/)...appeared in our head.
It was unpleasant, and made us ill, and we knew it was our worst (Brooke) fucking with us, like she does other times. Our arms became heavy with rejection of what we were seeing.
She wanted us to go to the kitchen and get the 10" chef's knife that we use for cooking...and she showed us what she wanted us to do with it. It wasn't so much violent, as gentle thrusting...that didn't make it any more comfortable to watch, and feel, and...experience. It wasn't shown in a blood-lust or glorifying way. It just was.
We won't say more.
She only did it to make us scared. We know Brooke doesn't like James, but she doesn't like us either. She used to want us to jump in front of buses back before we moved back to the United States and walked to work everyday.
Now, these days, she wants us to drive our vehicle into the side of semi-trucks on the interstate, and to stick our hands in moving blades, and other things that make it a struggle, sometimes, to prevent. It's not self-harm. we don't see it that way. But it's...disturbing. It's not everyday, thankfully. It's not even every week, but she always makes sure we don't forget she's around.
We know how to be smart about it. We tell James when these things happen, maybe not right away, but in a timely fashion that works with our schedules.
He does not fear us, or her, and is likely happy that we disclose these things rather than harbor them and let them destroy us mentally. It can't be easy to hear the wom[e]n you love tell you that "she" had visions, had impulses, to stab you in your sleep last night.
We've never understood her anger towards us, or other people, or why she would want us to hurt so much. Sometimes it's hard to try to understand each other, and when we try it just makes us want to curl on the floor and cry...and there's only so much of that we want to do in our life. But the thing we can do it recognize it, deal with it, and move past it and remember we are all responsible for each other and that was the deal.
We're really not as crazy as this particular blog entry may make us seem. At least we don't think so.
You can ask anyone who has met us.
We're not everybody's cup of tea, but thankfully some people like it strong.
We are one, We are many, We are Just Call Me Frank. Candid, adjudicating, philosophy wielding, life journaling, mental health advocating, writing and art therapy enthusiasts, lovers of learning; adventurers with a finger on all the buttons. Writing to survive and thrive.
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I want to reiterate, to those reading this post, that what Frank (et al) have written about here does NOT mean they want to harm themselves and / or that they are a danger to themselves or anyone else. They are most definitely not and trust me, I know. I sleep perfectly well next to Franky even after knowing this. Yes, of course I'd rather they didn't have to deal with these feelings / "visions" (as they said, "visions" isn't really accurate, they are merely the projected thoughts from one alter to the others) as they get upset by it. But again, I'm not worried in 'that' sense by these projections.
ReplyDeleteMostly...
There are those people out there that believe all mentally ill people (again, I'm going to stress that I don't consider Franky mentally 'ill') should be locked up and I can see how this post will be used by them in an attempt to prove their point. All they (you) need to know is that I live with Franky and you can trust me when I tell you I would know if there was anything to worry about.