that time I used a writing prompt: What’s behind that door?

Do you ever have those dreams where you’ve scrambled through a forest, or a pack of demons and you see a door? The door is glowing. You are meant to go through that door. That’s your door to something better. You reach for it, your hands firmly around the handle… and then you wake up. Happens every time doesn’t it? Kind of like those dreams where you’re falling and you wake up right before you hit the ground. Except I’d like to think the end of THAT dream would not be as happy as looking behind the door. Maybe.

Let’s face it, everyone has demons they don’t want to face and maybe those demons are behind those doors. But we can explore the possibilities of what is behind the door. Having suffered from childhood trauma and recent trauma as well (God that sounds so dramatic. I really hate the word “trauma”), my brain has so many doors that are keeping me from accessing those traumatic memories. I know what’s behind those doors. Every blank in my memory from the past 23 years is behind those doors. I’ve looked behind a few of those doors, cautiously. I didn’t like what I saw. I’ve kept those doors closed since. I know that it’s in my best interest to find out what’s missing from my memory because I know that I could integrate myself and maybe find my true identity as Emily. I wouldn’t have multiple personalities that house my darkest memories and protect me from the feelings that might hurt me. I would be able to truly feel again. I’m not as much of a sociopath as I used to be, but as I’m still not integrated, this person “Emily” doesn’t have all of the emotions that my alternate personalities house. I don’t have the mania of Alice, or the sadness of Isabella, or the vulnerability of Matilda or the strength of Tyler. I want to feel those things, but I know that I would have to face the demons that lie behind those closed doors in order to feel them.

I want to love. I want to hate. I want to feel insane happiness and overpowering sadness. I know that if all of the emotions of my alters were integrated, I would be a bipolar mess. But you know what? I’m ok with that. I’m tired of not knowing how to feel. The only thing I know is hurt because that’s all I’ve been allowed to feel lately, by myself and from other people. I want to feel all of the extremist emotions because that’s what being human is supposed to be about. Humans have this incredible ability to have emotion and when I’m stripped of that, I can’t be fully human.

One day maybe I’ll want to open that door. Maybe one day I’ll be strong enough. But I know that if I don’t open it myself, everything behind it will beat the door down and I’ll be forced to deal with it. So here I am at 23 years old with no sense of self, direction, and just bumming in Colorado trying to make a new person of myself and not be the psychotic DID mess I was in Maryland. I know it’s time to open the door. Unless I let out these demons, then they really will always follow me wherever I go.

The big question is just wondering what to do with those demons and those emotions once they’re out. I’ve never felt anything like that, so queue a meltdown for Emily. It’s bound to happen eventually. And then I can be human.


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