I know for a fact that NO ONE is going to understand this post. Unless you have DID/multiple personality disorder, or any type of dissociative disorder. If you do have one, can we talk and be best friends because unlike my depression, which feels so alone but you aren’t, when you have DID, you are definitely alone. Most doctors don’t even believe it’s a real disease and most insurance companies won’t cover your therapy if you get the diagnosis for it. Wow we have a really messed up healthcare system. DID is real! We’re not in the 1960’s anymore, America.
There’s also no known treatment for DID. Personalities are not exactly something you can “treat” with medication because the personalities ARE you (oh god, I’m getting back into the “you are not your disease” rant again, except that with DID, you kind of are your disease because your disease is literally you). Sure, doctors try to give out anti-depressants and anxiolytics or even antipsychotics to treat it because hey, why not. I guess it makes sense because alternate personalities serve a purpose: protection. Kind of convenient though, don’t you think? Example: I start to feel anxious. I, Emily, hate feeling anxious, so I transition into another personality so that Emily doesn’t have to deal with feeling anxious. It’s just another form of disassociation like drinking or drugs etc. But my mind does it for me. Kinda cool.* Kinda totally not.**
So the whole point of this post is to tell you about how I might have accidentally killed one of my personalities. But before I jump into that, maybe I should explain what DID is because everyone thinks we’re crazy people with a million personalities that jump out at any second and I can go from being Emily to some dude who believes he’s a Vietnam vet (that’s actually from United States of Tara, but that drastic of a transition is a real thing. I have a personality named “Matilda” who’s a 5 year old girl). DID stands for Dissociative Identity Disorder. What a mouthful and a pain in the ass to keep typing out. So DID is a dissociative disorder, let’s start with that. Disassociation is a form of panic, in which you don’t want to be there, so your mind takes you elsewhere so that you don’t have to experience what is going on. A lot of people do it. A drink or 2 or 3 or more at the end of the day so that you don’t have to think about your shitty day anymore. Taking pills so that you can get through the day physically but not mentally. It’s like that. Even daydreaming is a form of disassociation. With that in mind, instead of taking something, when I don’t want to feel the way I’m feeling, I transition into another person who can feel that for me. Here’s a couple of them: Isabella. Depressed, self-destructive. But honest. She’s also 14. Emily is not any of those and I can’t feel that way, so Isabella does it for me. Alice: hypomanic, full of herself, short-fused, and will f**k anything that moves. Delilah is quiet, shy, but sweet and kind. I guess I can be that way, but she apologizes for everything. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her metaphorical body. These are the 3 most prominent personalities for me so let’s stick with that. This post would be too long if I described all of them and I also don’t know how many there are, or even everything about them***
One of my New Year’s Resolutions was to kill Alice. She was starting to ruin my life. I was more Alice than I was Emily or anyone else. On an almost daily basis, I was transitioning into Alice. She was drinking me into a coma, eating meat to spite me (a Natty Boh sausage, really, Alice?), screwing and flirting with other guys to piss off my now-ex-boyfriend, and current male companion. She sounds awful and it makes me sound like an awful person, but when I say it wasn’t me, seriously, it wasn’t me.
But semi recently, I’ve felt integrated. I haven’t transitioned in a couple months now and I have the ability to feel emotions again. It sucks, but I supposed it’s better than my alters messing my life up. But somehow, in the midst of that, I think I killed Alice. I don’t understand it at all because if she’s integrated into being a part of me, how did I manage to kill a part of actual Emily? This is so confusing. But all the things that Alice felt for me, and I was starting to feel as well, have seemed to just up and leave. Just about 3 weeks ago I was feeling great about myself. I felt sexy, confident, my self-esteem was way better, I had a healthy libido, I could feel angry, I could express my feelings. What happened?
I’ve become a hermit again. Instead of wearing sexy overpriced lingerie on an everyday basis and around the house, I’m back to coming home from a long day and snuggling in my sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. I’ve been eating my feelings or starving myself because I hate how I look. I can’t talk about my feelings. I can’t feel anger. I have absolutely no libido. And when I say “no libido,” I mean, like, sex sucks. I can’t get into it, can’t get aroused, or even enjoy the feeling. It’s easy for men. Just take that little blue pill and you can bang the crap out of anything all night. There’s nothing like that for women. BDSM is the worst thing ever now. The last time I was involved in a scene, I started crying because I hated the pain. I can’t orgasm. I’m tired of apologizing every time I can’t even make myself pretend to enjoy it. Every aspect of Alice’s personality that was coming out in me is gone.
And then last night, it hit me. Alice is gone. Did I kill her? Did she kill herself out of spite of being integrated?****Sounds like an Alice thing to do. But as I think about this more, I suppose it’s possible that she got out of the integration. She is her own separate personality again. I’m fragmented into simply Emily and Alice. What makes me think that?
I felt her last night. In the past, before I would transition, I could feel them. I would hear their voices in my head whenever I’d start to feel a negative emotion. It’s like someone banging on your front door maliciously and then eventually, they take an axe to it to break in, and suddenly, I’ve gone from being Emily to being someone else. This didn’t happen last night. I felt her though. I could feel the knocking, feel the pressure in my head of another person trying to crawl out into the world. But she didn’t. She stayed put. Why are you doing this, Alice?
I sense mayhem. Come back, Alice. I love you. I miss you.
*Alice has gotten me through so many work shifts when I have a panic attack. Then again, she’s also a total bitch to everyone around her so I can imagine it makes for an unpleasant shift for my coworkers. Sorry, guys.
**One time, Isabella threw my phone into a river. Kinda totally not cool.
***Apparently I have a personality named “Tyler,” according to Alice. Tyler is a guy and also a sex god. As far as I know, he’s never made an appearance. He kind of sounds like Tyler Durden based on what I heard (in an audio recording I set up before transitioning) from Alice.
**** In previously mentioned audio recording, she said she never wanted to be integrated because she wanted to be her own person. I guess I get her point. It must suck to be a personality that has no body to call its own.