I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, DID, formerly known as Multipl Personality Disorder and Autism

Boy, that's a long title. DID and Aspergers mix pretty well in that they produce similar characteristics. Both can lead to: isolation and inability to connect to others; low self-esteem and lack of eye contact; selective mutism or incidents in which one cannot speak; living within ones own unique world on the inside; difficulty making friends and forming intimate relationships; depression and high anxiety. It's a double-whammy on just about all fronts.
One of the things that I have to do is to separate my Aspergers symptoms, which are hard-wired and cannot be changed, from my DID symptoms which can be healed and transformed. It's a great deal of mental effort. I often find journaling, blogging and reading about both conditions in order to figure this out. It helps a great deal that I have an adult sin with Aspergers as I can look at his reactions and ways if thinking to more easily understand what my autistic issues are.
As an example, for most of my life (I'm about 54 years old) I thought that my low level depression was due to the years of abuse, my DID, until I witnessed depression in my teenage autistic son. It's odd but the more intelligent the Autistic, the more depression there is. It's like we are smart enough to see how great our deficits and struggles are. I'm guessing that I would be hard pressed to find someone with DID who doesn't struggle with depression on a regular basis.
These past few years as I've gotten older and a bit wiser, I can see that autism is a form of dissociation, in that it is one step removed from reality. DID is two or three steps back. Reality, being in the Now, isn't something I'm familiar with. I have to work or be completely engrossed in a subject or experience to be fully in the now.
Yeah, I guess you could say that I've never gotten over my childhood (no one can say that, in all honesty, as we are all living, breathing and repeating products of our childhood experiences good, bad or indifferent) as I carry around within my psyche pockets of repressed childhood memories, remembrances of various sadistic abuses that continue to be too overwhelming to bring out into the light.
It's time for me to start putting my...expertise in DID and Autism into words.
Follow me
Ask questions

I've done nothing wrong

There's just a bunch of really fucked up things that happened to me. I don't feel that I should be subjected to continue silence and censorship because it's so disturbing what kind of heinous, sadistic torture a parent perpetrated upon their own child.
I mean there's incest, physical abuse and this most depraved of crimes, torture. And I really mean torture. No one is willing or fucking able to hear about the times I was fucking tortured. It's part of who I am. A big cache of secrets I was forced into suppressing And I still have to Hide and Deny them!?!? Does not seem right on any level.
I bare no responsibility for the acts of my father and relatives. I'm no longer trapped in shame or even fucking embarrassment.
I Have Nothing to Hide...
Yet I hide

I can never tell you all that I am

It's disheartening to realize that dozens of horrific experiences that have molded me into the shape of who I am, can never be spoken or written lest the intensity, inhumanity and cruelty upset.
I understand this on some level as my reality has been so disturbing and distressing that I've spent decades hiding these little insidious gems of truth deep within my self and removed from my waking reality. It's called dissociation, repressing memories and keeping myself sane and quasi functioning.
Lol, if I couldn't bear to know it, why should anyone else?
I don't know...do people routinely have to sequester large parts of their lives? Do I have to continue to be silent when I've just recently overcome the hurdles, the mountains, the walls and defenses and commend myself for having the strength and courage to talk and acknowledge the forbidden truth?
I feel cheated...that I have to protect you by continuing to suppress all that I am.
I feel like an overly compassionate individual who is continuing to sacrifice herself in the silence to spare you some distress.
What about me? When do I get to finally be okay with who I am and openly acknowledge my pain, my torture and my truth?
I feel almost ugly and hideous living half a life in the dark like this. Doesn't seem right...anymore.
I don't want to live a lie anymore and pretend the things that happened didn't.
Can you hear me now?

I would like to hear from an MPD/DID Therapist, what it's like to work with a Client

It boggles my mind to wonder what a counselor/ therapist/ social worker/ psychologist or psychiatrist thinks and feels when working with an MPD/DID client who is actively switching.
I have no idea what my therapist is thinking as she watches me transform from an intelligent, middle aged woman to an inconsolable 8 yr old, beaten child or hapless kid.
My previous therapist often used the word "fascinating" but there were other times when she looked, scared, uncertain, threatened, sad, confused, perplexed and traumatized.
What does it feel like? To see something never or rarely ever witnessed that is...surreal? Otherworldly? Mind blowing?
I really hope to hear. I'm so curious.
Describe it to me, please!!!!!

It's a cruel world

Often when I step out my front door, I'm assaulted by inhumanity.
Yesterday, a 9 yr old boy hustled me in the laundromat, for a dollar for chips saying his parents hadn't fed him all day. Then I saw him take money from 3 other strangers.
Today as I walked my dog, another dog drew close to see her. The owner loudly and soundly slapped his dog shouting "no".
There was a facebook post exacting my mother on her 77th birthday. Forever smiling. Pleasantly in denial that she has been nothing but the perfect, saintly, loving mother.
I won't even touch politics, the NFL anthem or the stupidity in the daily news.
It's tragic, truly tragic the way our nation, my nation and society have sunk to the bowels of degradation and rudeness. I simply want no part of it but I haven't found a way to opt out.
It feels like a kindergarten playground, Armageddon and pure hopelessness at times.
Common sense is all but completely lost.
It feels overwhelming like perpetual dark clouds and sporadic twisters pelting innocent bystanders with farmyard debris, mostly barbed wire and half-dried manure.
It's like all the sad, hurt, bullied adults who were maligned as children have gotten the okay to be bullies, name callers and self-righteous bigots.
So-called Chrsitians have taken to sword fighting, blasphemy, racism and outright cruelty. True Christians are the minority as  it's a "might makes right" mentality with the majority twisting and brandishing their "faith" with fists and guttural words. I'm afraid to call myself a Christian for the name has been perverted and degraded by haters, mockers and those who have lost their moral compass and truly forgotten that Christianity and God is all about Love, Compassion and Kindness.
People are attacking each other within the same moniker.
Innocent bystanders who want no part of the chaotic fray are chastised for not being "vocal" or "active" enough. As if I want any part of the growing, sickening wave of hatred that grows in breadth and depth each day. Peacefully, I opt out, as is my right. I refuse to be part of an angry, near-sighted mob following a blind, hateful, spiteful ruler who encourages chaos, disrespect and ignorance.
No, I'll have no part of this growing movement as it sickens me, heart and soul.
See, I've been bent, broken and sunk to the level of complaining and whining which has suddenly become acceptable behavior.
It's sad. An American tragedy. Sister against Sister. Common sense disregarded, lost and deeply buried.
I won't answer hate with hate. I'll pray for peace and continue to practice kindness mostly from the safety of my own home.
There are friends...maybe former friends, that I just can't understand anymore. They aren't who they once were. I don't know or understand their words and actions. They've been changed. My loss.
All I can end with is...
Be kind to one another
Respect one another, respect all people
Try and remember what compassion is

More Depoe Bay pictures

Whale Watching in Depoe Bay

I needed to drag my sorry butt up out of bed. I realized the seasons had turned and I was quickly falling into Autumns depression. The Spring to Fall transition has always hit me hardest. I made myself get up out of bed. I needed a plan, a destination.
I tried to think of a place is enjoy. The only thing that came to mind was the Pacific coast. Destination set for Depoe Bay, the world's smallest harbor. It's picturesque abutting the ocean with a rocky inlet that promised a good view.
I hadn't ventured to the coast in a few months. I must admit that I felt anxiety leaving home and often along the way. I decided to press on anyway.
One reason I took this "personal day" was because I needed to get away and have some time whereby I didn't need to talk or listen to anybody. Somehow that daily stress required abating. Driving off was the only way to find some peace and solace. Being alone rejuvenates me.
I found a parking spot right along the main road, quite fortuitous! I quickly figured out why the ocean was packed with people sporting binoculars and cameras.
Whales! The humpback whales were migrating and feeding in Depoe Bay. Whilst I'd heard of this phenomenon, I'd never witnessed seeing a real, live whale. Sure enough, I spotted whales shooting water out of their spots, whale backs glistening in the sunlight and the graceful descent of mighty whale tales slipping above and below the surface.
I was enthralled. Thrilled that I had brought binoculars, I brought the experience closer to view. Whales are massive, gentle creatures. Their size correlates to their energy and the harbor practically vibrated. It truly was a magnificent sight.
There were estimates that 5-6 whales were feeding at that time frame. I believe it, if not more. Truthfully, every couple of minutes brought a sighting. I'd never witnessed anything like it before. Two whales even came within 50 feet of shore, of where I was standing. Breathtaking.
I don't know how long I stayed along the concourse watching. It must have been at least an hour or two. Time stopped.
The sky was partly clouding with many periods of bright sun. The temperature an agreeable 60° or so. I took many photos and even a little video capturing the whale signs.
The decision to leave was difficult. I didn't want to turn away from the magical ocean waters teeming with telltale life.
I decided to leave and go down a couple dozen miles to Lost Creek beach. It's one thing to view the ocean, it's quite another to be on the shore touching sand, feeling water and picking up rocks.
I journeyed to the beach. It feels so free, so refreshing standing close to the freeflowing power of the mighty Pacif.
On the beach, I need to closely monitor myself...because I just want to pick a direction, the direction away from the most people, and just start walking...for hours, forever. I don't know why I have that familiar, reoccurring pull, but I'm aware of it. Sigh.
I loved being on the beach. I really, truly did.
Water, especially mighty oceanic water seems to heal all wounds.
It was time to head home. It was a wonderful day.