| December 3rd; here in this head | |
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Okay, so I'm about to go out on a limb here. A really big limb.
i'm going to come out. Now, if you're someone i work with, or related to me in some fashion, i'm going to ask you to stop reading this, right now. Reach right back up and hit the back button. Or go someplace else. If you're related to me or work with me and you read this, i want you to agree that you will never mention it to me, or anyone else, that you know this information.
Good? good.
. A few of you who read this journal on a regular basis already know what's going on. A few others may have put five and five together. That's okay. This is here for posterity, after all. There will be other people who come through and read this, later on. The big thing is that I have Dissociative Identity Disorder. Also known by the less euphemistic name Multiple Personality Disorder. Basically, what it means is that there isn't really one person here in my head, there's over 30 at last count, each of whom has good days and bad, who lives, breathes, and wants a voice. Why I'm this way isn't really all that relevant. It has something to do with some abusive situations I've been in over the years, some Bad Stuff that happened to me when i was much younger, and probably a really good dose of predisposition to the condition. I am not trying to get fixed or get better; I am not broken. This is simply the way I am and we are. It causes some difficulties, but the troubles are all worth the joy and the beauty that is the whole of us. To imagine, if you're a singleton (I know a couple of multiples read this journal) what it's like in this head, think of living with your family. Add a few brothers and sisters. Then add some friends, maybe a couple of acquaintances, and a couple of people you dislike or are afraid of. Then lock the doors and windows, and tell everyone that nobody can leave. Then tell them that the house is mobile, but only one person can drive at any given moment. Others can sit behind the driver and tell them where to go, and for brief periods of time, several people can occupy the driver's seat, but for all practical purposes, there is only one driver at a time. Oh, and make sure that some of the people locked in the house are little kids and teenagers of various ages, with varying abilities, affected with their own peculiar trials. Then imagine the chaos and noise. Imagine it always having been this way, locked in a tiny house with a bunch of people. Imagine the noise, the fights, the longing to get away. Imagine how sane you'd have to remain to cope with it. That's what it's like, here in this head. I will continue to use the pronoun I to talk about myself, here; since most of this writing comes from one alter (which is Stavia), it's not worth confusing everyone. Oh, and I've made a site that has been called "a profound contribution to the DID community on the Web" and "the scariest site I've ever read". It's called Our Present Darkness, it's done in conjunction with another multiple who calls themselves the House of the Moon, and there I go by Magdalen. So if you see a Magdalen out there...it may well be me. So now you know. Superimposed on this is a profound depression that has lasted more or less continuously for about thirteen years now; most of my more wildly depressive journals have been done from the depth of a really bad depressive pit. Oh, and my mood is still low today, but i'm still steadfastly ignoring it. Didn't manage to get as much done at work as I'd planned, but still got some done. Whee.
"I pictured a rainbow
Sounds: Pretty and Twisted, self-titled Words: nothing. taking a couple of days away from books.
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