I Wanna' Be Like You [Me]

Because I'm a multiple, and I'm out about being multiple, other people come up to me asking if I think they might be multiple, too. And the short answer is, I can't answer that for you. If you think you might be multiple, I'm going to advise you to see a therapist/counselor/psychologist/psychiatrist/etc. Because I can't tell you if you're multiple. Honestly, they probably can't tell you either, but they can help you figure it out. 

Because there's no way to test for multiplicity. I can't even prove it to myself some days. Maybe I really have just made it up. I just want the attention. I'm trying to make myself be different, special. I can just stop being multiple. And then I switch. Oh yeah, I'm multiple. And my headmates laugh at me. But there's some bite to the laughter, because what if one day, I stop switching and I'm just Me? 

Well, surely I can tell if someone else is multiple if I get to know them, right? I mean, there are three other multiples in my household. And I'm friends with several other multiples. So I can tell the difference, right? Well, no. Because each of us display our multiplicity in different ways. Boss didn't think he was multiple before because his didn't 'act' like my metamour's multiplicity. His system's manner is more like mine. There is no single definitive behavior that 'gives away' someone's multiplicity.

If you tell me you are multiple, that you are certain of this, and that you know your headmates and are dealing with being a multiple and have been dealing with it for some amount of time measured in years, I'm going to simply believe you. You can't fake this for a long period of time. Well, unless there's something else going on in your psyche, which I'm also not qualified to determine. It's too much work to be multiple, and to fake it would be even more work. Especially if you're faking it to yourself.

If you ask me, however, if I think you are multiple, based on one or two events you've experienced, I'm going to say that you probably aren't. Everyone experiences moments of dissociation from time to time. Everyone acts out of character and feels like they can't control it sometimes. And if you're a writer, yes, your characters will take over your mind from time to time. Most people had imaginary friends when they were young, and most people have had some sort of trauma in their lives that could have caused them to split. None of that makes you a multiple.

When you have a solid pattern of all these things happening over and over, and they happen when you're by yourself and when you're around other people, then you have some suspicion. And even then, maybe you have something else going on. Maybe you're depressed or bipolar or just have very poor self-control. Add to these things some memory blackouts that weren't caused by alcohol or drugs. Add in things appearing at your house that you don't remember buying or bringing home. And maybe some friends coming up to you and telling you that you've been... different... at times. Then you can suspect you might be multiple.

And you'll never really prove it for sure to yourself or to anyone else. Because there is no proof. Most multiples that I've talked to have moments of doubting they are multiple, even after dealing with it for years and years. Look back through my blog - does any of this prove I'm multiple? No. Maybe I just have a really thorough imagination. I am an actress, after all. I could be delusional, and I've convinced even myself. I'm a writer, too. Maybe I'm just setting up a story I plan to write. Have I made you doubt me yet?

Here's another point. Most multiples that are seeing a therapist of some sort go through a period where the alters know they're part of a system, and then the therapist knows, but no one tells the primary. Wait, what? No one tells this person who has sought out guidance what it is they are dealing with. That's standard procedure in counseling multiples, folks - don't tell them. Because they have to come to it on their own. Dissociating is a defense mechanism. By 'giving it away', the therapist would be forcibly breaking down those defenses, doing more harm than good.

So if you ask me if I think you are a multiple, I'm going to say no. Because if you are, you have to figure it out for yourself. And if you have to ask me, you probably aren't anyway. You're probably just dealing with stuff. However, if you tell me you are multiple, I am going to accept that at face value. I won't question it, not because I believe you, but because I'll never 100% believe you. If you've just come to this conclusion recently, my level of doubt will be greater than if you've been operating as a multiple for years. But I'll never really know if you truly are a multiple. And you'll never really know if I am.

Working Through Anger [Sam?]

I'm working on dealing with some anger over something that should be small, yet my mind keeps returning to it again and again. I'm hoping that writing about it here will help me deal with it.

Background. I am allergic to animals. Like' take a pill everyday, and never pet an animal because my eyes will swell up and my nose will explode, and keep an inhaler in my purse and in my room just in case' kind of allergic to animals. My metamour has a dog and two cats. And they were the main point of negotiation about whether or not I could move in with them last spring.

The dog is not a problem; she is short-haired, and uses a puppy-pad to do her business. Unfortunately, she's decided that whenever I come home is the perfect time to poop, and her pads are near my computer, so I seem to always smell dog poop. The cats, however, are another matter. The female one is just a brat. She tears up carpet and insists on sitting in my computer chair when I'm not in it, and she loves to play in the litterbox, flinging litter everywhere. Again, not a huge allergy issue; she and I have agreed that we don't like each other but can live together. The male cat, however... He's old, and retarded, and spoiled. So he prefers to pee in front of my bedroom door and poop in the living room. He gets mad when I put my purse where it belongs, because he wants to lay there. And he's very vocal about it.

The apartment smells like cat piss, and it's his fault. The air burns my eyes and throat if I'm in the living areas too long. Watching a movie means an allergy attack before it's over, because the couches I bought are cat-spaces. I tried keeping sheets over the couches when I first got them, but since I was the only one doing so, it didn't take. So the couches are becoming unfriendly places for me to sit. But I can't sit on the floor - the one time I spent a little while on the floor, the skin on my legs started burning and swelling - cat piss and cat hair. Soon, I'll probably have to do what I do at my sister's house (where there are numerous dogs) - sit in a kitchen chair away from the regular furniture - end of snuggling time.

Most of the time, taking my allergy medicine regularly means I can handle all this, with the occasional shot from an inhaler. Without an animal in the house, I would probably never need an inhaler, and might not even need the meds. But I knew this when I decided to move in with my love and his other girlfriend; she has animals, and that's the way it is. I accepted it. But I argued strenuously that I had to have my own room. And there would be NO ANIMALS IN MY ROOM. Ever. Upon pain of water spraying, kicking animals, and throwing fits. I need to have a space that's as animal-free as possible. I keep my door shut 99% of the time, and run an air purifier 24-7. I hate the white noise from it because it further isolates me, but I need it. When I do laundry, it all goes directly to my room to minimize the time spent exposed to animal fur. Or vengeful peeing cats.

There are drawbacks to keeping my room secluded. If I'm in my room, I'm isolated. I can't participate in what's going on in the next room because I have to shut the door. Sometimes it builds a sense of claustrophobia. In a perfect world, my home would have no doors except the bathroom, and even that wouldn't always get used. I don't like separation. But there are animals in the house.

So the other night, we were discussing something unrelated, and my metamour drops a mention that sometimes she goes to my bathroom instead of the main one, for some reason. I can't really think of any good reason for her to do so, except for the rare rare occasion that Maintenance is doing something in hers? But regardless, for some reason, she occasionally uses my bathroom. That's mildly annoying, but acceptable. But then she says that when she does so, she brings the cat in with her and lets him run around in my closet.

I'm sorry, what? What part of NO ANIMALS IN MY ROOM didn't get through? Her excuse is that he stays on the floor, so no cat hair is getting on my clothes. Wait, you've had a cat for how long? When a cat walks into a room, every piece of clothing in the room instantly has cat hair on it - there is no direct contact necessary. I do all kinds of things to keep the animals from having an impact on my personal space, and she's bringing one of them into my room. And not just any of them, she's bringing the male cat - the one that's such a problem for me anyway.

When she said that, I made it clear that this is to stop. I looked her in the eye, and said "No animals in my room. Period. I don't care why." She started to argue; I repeated it. She shut up about it. But here's the thing - I have no way to know if she obeys the rule. And when it comes to spoiling that cat, like by not forcing it to be traumatically separated from her for the amount of time it takes for her to go to the bathroom, she doesn't tend to follow rules very well. Oh, and remember, she's multiple, too. So even if most of her alters are fine following that rule, the one that hopelessly lets the cat run all over her probably won't. And I'm not sure if she's the one I made it clear to that there are no animals allowed into my space.

So here it is a few days later, and I'm still angry about this. I feel powerless to enforce it; that's why I'm angry, I know. Would it be too much to print up a 'No Animals' sign and put at my door? That would probably hurt some feelings, but I'm not sure I care right now. And if she wants to ignore it when I'm not home, she can. It's not a matter of not remembering that the cats aren't allowed in there, it's a matter of not respecting that rule. Not respecting me.

Ding-ding-ding - there's the reason for the angry. She is disrespecting me by ignoring one of the few rules I have required in our household. There are plenty regarding her - keeping the lights off all the damned time so that it feels like I'm being smothered in a cave all the time. Keeping quiet during all hours of the day because she sleeps during the day and is up at night. Being uber-respectful of the needs put on her by her poor health. But I ask for one thing - leave my room clear - and she just disregards that entirely. I work very hard to be respectful of her, and I feel like it's not being reciprocated.

So what do I do about it? Well, I vent here, to make me feel better. And then, I don't know. Well, I need to wrap this up, my eyes are starting to burn, so it's time for me to retreat to my room for a while. And besides, the female cat is yarking up all over the living room carpet. I'm not cleaning it up. Gross.

A Collection of Thoughts [Me]

I don't think the earring is going to make it. The hole's starting to feel and look infected again. And the new earring is too heavy; I can't sleep on that side while wearing it. Even Kiara seems to be wanting it gone - it gets in the way of our morning wake-up cuddling. Cherish is, of course, the main concern. But once the original earring was taken out, she doesn't seem to have the same attachment to the new one. And if it's better for the body for it to be gone...

We had another mash-up this morning. We woke up this morning with me out, but all mixed up with Kiara. And everyone else completely quiet. It wasn't uncomfortable, really, but it was different. Not like Kiara being out and me watching. The same kind of mash-up effect as Cherish had with Silent One last weekend.

Boss has tried renaming Silent One. Instead of SO, he reversed it to OS, and he pronounces it 'Oz'. I suggested NoSSO, for Not So Silent One, would be better. Either way, it doesn't answer to the name, though. It doesn't know why he's making that noise at it. It did pick up a few deliberate noises, though. When it was all mashed up with Cherish, it may have picked up some understanding of language. It made a lip-smacking sound when he said 'kiss', and an 'F' sound for fingers. And he said it very clearly said, "Hi" at one point. I wonder if the language pieces will stick when it's not all mashed up.

This morning, when I was mashed with Kiara, she finally started getting sleepy. And maybe because we were so strongly mixed, I was able to 'see' myself taking her by her hand and leading her back to her room, tucking her in, and getting a nose-kiss goodnight. Then I was able to come back to the front, and my vision cleared about and I was in front all solo. It was very sweet.

We stopped doing our DnD gaming. I'm not doing any role-play gaming now. And it's making me want to write again. Writing/roleplaying is therapy for me. My own self-directed therapy. I'm thinking about looking up my old Star Trek RPG. Or maybe writing some fiction. I might get some friends to co-write with me. I've always enjoyed things I've co-written better.

Sam has started doing a little bedroom role-play with Boss. In the middle of sex or cuddling or whatever, he'll say something to indicate what 'scene' he's feeling like, and Sam's started jumping right in to play that role. She's the most verbal of us during sex, and the most 'out for fun', so it makes sense that she'd jump in for that.

We saw Bear last night. Once a week, we've started going to a trivia night thing that he's doing. And Sam's been the one going to it. She's enjoying hanging with him, and she's got a 'date' to play with him this weekend. She's made no pretense to him of being Me, but he hasn't acknowledged it. He also hasn't shied away from it. He also hasn't, say, asked after Kiara, who won't come out around him at all. Might be interesting for aftercare this weekend.

Well, there's a bunch of collected thoughts for you. They actually are connected to each other, if you know where to look. None quite justifying their own post. But these are things going on with us right now.

Tender but Healing [Me]

Last night, the Boss told me I seemed... calm. Content, pleased, serene. Not tense and sad, as I've been for the last couple of weeks. And he is right. I seem to be 'over it'. Not that I no longer care about the things which have been hurting me, but just that I have found a peace about them. I'm okay. I find this is a normal cycle for me. It goes along with the Depression Cycle that I recognize in myself, but doesn't go as deep, because there's a recognizable cause and effect involved.

Stage One - When I hurt over something (and that's almost always someone), I hurt intensely. I wallow in the feeling, getting all the suffering out of it and into my system. I dredge up every little pain and examine it, making sure I feel all the pain it has to give me. At this point, I need to cry; I need to be furious; I need to feel it all the way.

Stage Two - I let the pain sit and process. I'm quiet and sad about it for a while, and have a sense of the inescapable nature of pain in life. Nothing is going to help me get through this process, I just have to suffer lightly for awhile. I feel like there's no way to avoid it, and the world is never going to have light in it again. But I know I will feel better if I can just wait it out. There's no way to help me at this point - it just has to process. Sympathy and touch remind me that it will get better.

And then I need a catharsis point. Something to hit the reset button. Often, that's a heavy beating, something to make me scream and cry - one that takes a few days to heal from. The ongoing pain annoys me, distracts me from whatever was making me hurt. The catharsis can also be some other change of pace - getting out of town, a project that suddenly comes up and take all my attention, just something that kicks me out of my rut for a few days and keeps me from focusing on whatever I'm upset about. Last weekend, I got a heavy beating that left scabbing on my back, made it tender and achy and itchy all week.

Then I rebound. I feel better, cleaner, ready to move on. And I'm there now. I miss the Bear, and seeing him as a friend will still be awkward for a while. I love him, and not being his makes me sad, wistful. But I know I'll be okay at this point. I can get on with things. The scabs are falling off my back, and it's only a little tender now. My back, and my soul.

Lock Me Away - No Don't, Really - Just a Daydream [Me, Sam]

I was joking the other day with a friend about being locked up for my own safety. Now, I don't need to be locked away; I don't really even want to be locked away. But there are times when it sounds might appealing.

During my first marriage of eleven months, I have a great big memory hole. I remember less than two weeks, and  over a week of that was spent in the psych eval ward. It was a lovely pleasant time. We did crafts and were fed lots of fruit, and a staff of nurses saw to our every need. Group Therapy was a fun period where I got to know more about my new friends. I loved it. They discharged me after 10 days, and I was sad.

But sometimes, I do get tired of being responsible for myself, my selves. What if I could let Rubi rage and fume and yell and scream freely? What if Sam could run unchecked and say anything she wanted? What if Kiara could have temper tantrums and not have to answer to the big girls?

You know what happens in the mental wards? They give you drugs to keep you all the time loopy and compliant. And your decisions are made for you - your schedule is set, your menu is set, even your bedtime is set. Sometimes I want the padded walls and someone else making the decisions for me. I get tired of fighting to maintain control. I get tired of being a responsible adult who has to suffer the consequences of not only my decisions and actions, but those of everyone else in my head.

What if the drugs silenced the crowd and made me singular and quiet? Would I mourn? Would I sleep like I'd never slept before? Would they miss me?

I can 'hear' Sam's influence in my writing on this one, so I'm giving her credit in the title. I don't really want to lose you, Sam. It's just a 'what-if' daydream...

This Blog Is My Lifeline [Me]

now I'm reading mycloudsandmystorms' blog. And this entry is so good I'm pasting a bunch of it here.

And that is really the point of this blog, I really want people who are suffering with multiple personality disorder or those who love or live with someone who is, to know that there is hope. Multiple personality disorder is not a curse. It is a coping mechanism. Without this coping mechanism these victims would probably be dead from whatever trauma it was that caused this syndrome in the first place. I, personally, am grateful for it. I know it saved my life.

I am here to tell you there are lots of folks with MPD out there who are doing just fine. They are high functioning members of society and people around them have no clue there is anything different about them. It is possible to be normal, healthy and productive and still be a multiple. That doesn't mean a person with MPD shouldn't integrate. It means that the decision should be based on what is best for that person. But it does mean the MPD is not something to be feared like the plague. If someone you care about has been diagnosed with it, it doesn't mean they cannot lead a normal life. 

True, many multiples have a difficult time with therapy. It is a painful thing probably more painful than anyone can ever imagine. I wouldn't even beging to suggest my therapy was easy, It was horrific. BUT it was worth every minute of it for the quality of life I have attained through it. But during therapy I felt like I was on a sinking ship and there was no hope I would ever be saved. There was no one there to throw me a lifeline, to say there would be an end to the pain or a valid reason to go through it. I made it on blind faith and I will be forever grateful that I did.

I would like this blog to be a lifeline. A beacon of hope for anyone dealling with the storm that can be multiple personality disorder. True, there will be things here that are hard to read but I share them so people can see how much a human being can endure and still find a way to shine.

What she said - that's it. This blog is my lifeline, my reminder that We can function as an I. I have a coping mechanism that most people can't begin to understand. And it works for me. And this blog is a window into that coping mechanism for those that want to understand.

About Therapy [Me]

We've been reading blogs of other multiples a lot lately. And a lot of what we're reading involves the writer complaining about how their therapist (or T) is unavailable or unreliable. This really irritates me. I know from dealing with myselves, at least, that consistency is really important for a multiple, or anyone who is struggling with mental issues. When the world inside your head isn't under control, it's very important to lock down as much as possible outside your head to be predictable and without surprise. When you have an appointment at a certain date and time, you must keep it. And if there is no way to avoid changing it, it's terribly important to let your patient know as early (and gently) as possible, and to immediately make an alternate plan so they don't feel like they've been abandoned.

Instead, I'm reading where T's are going out of town and just not showing up for an appointment, or telling a patient they will call them to check on them the next day but never do it, or not returning emails or voicemails left for them, or constantly changing the date and time of appointments. This has got to be so frustrating for the multiples they are treating! It really makes me angry on behalf of these other multiples.

And yet, the other day, I heard someone telling my boyfriend that we're considering starting therapy. Another multiple we know has a therapist who is experience with DID and at least aware of her kink, and we could easily get a referral. But I didn't think we needed therapy - we seem to be working together well and functioning happily through life. Lynn has been able to be counselor for us all this time so far. Why are we considering therapy? And why aren't I a part of the discussion? Maybe someone just wants to be like the other multis, and have a T to complain about...

Diagnosis and Therapy (Me)

I am self-diagnosed with multiple personalities. I noticed certain symptoms in myself, and started trying to make those puzzle pieces fit a reasonable explanation of what was happening to me.

There were periods of time where I just really couldn't remember what had happened. Say I was at work, and I clearly remember getting in my car and pulling out of the parking lot... and then I remember eating dinner. How did I drive home? Who fixed dinner? Or people would tell me they'd sent me a text or talked to me on the phone, and my phone would hold proof of it, but I didn't remember the conversation. Or I'd remember that the conversation occured, and the key information, but not actually remember the conversation. I get a lot of that - the outline of what happened. Now I know this is because Counselor 'takes notes' and puts that information in my memory.

I also noted some extreme behavioral changes in myself - some that I couldn't control. Have you ever been on painkillers or other drugs, and been just out of it enough to watch yourself talk funny or walk funny, and been unable to stop it? That was happening to me pretty frequently - except without the drugs. Worse, there were times that I was just plain hateful to someone, and ten minutes later was being all cute and sweet and childish. Neither of those behavior patterns is typical of me. I'm just not 'cute' - or hateful - most of the time.

So I started looking for an explanation. Not just 'I'm crazy', because that's not detailed enough to help out. But I started doing research into mental conditions that cause those kinds of issues. And I found MPD - Multiple Personality Disorder. Only now they call it DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder. I tried on a couple of other conditions, that just didn't fit. But MPD seemed to fit better. I didn't want to accept it, but I couldn't find a better solution. So then I tried the opposite approach. I decided to assume that I was multiple and try to prove myself wrong. And I couldn't do it.

So aside from the memory blackouts and personality swings, other things led me to accept the multiple personalities. I could hear voices in my head talking to me and discussing things - but I thought everyone did that. Some electronic equipment doesn't work well for me - I blow out speakers on computers and phones all the time, and wristwatches are just jewelry. My eyes change color when I shift, my allergies act differently, my pain tolerances differ. Drug reactions differ, body language and accent change.

MPD and DID both include the term Disorder. Many multiples that I've met (mostly online) shy away from using MPD or DID to describe themselves because of this. A disorder is generally thought of to be something that hampers normal functioning. But the Medical Dictionary says it is "a derangement or abnormality of function." I'll be the first to admit that this multiplicity of mine isn't normal. So yes, I'm disordered - and occasionally disorderly, as well.

I have not sought out a therapist - or psychologist, psychiatrist, or any other head doctor - for my multiplicity. To be honest, the idea frightens me - several of me. From all I have read/researched, it sounds like it is very hard to convince a therapist that multiple personality is the problem to start with. They want to go with bipolar, depression, and everything but multiple personality. Most likely because most of those things can be treated with drugs. Drugs tend to work rather erratically on multiples. They'll put one alter into a stupor, make another hyper, and have no effect at all on a third. So drugs are out.

And once the therapist is convinced that DID is the issue, the knee-jerk reaction seems to be integration - combining and eliminating the alters until only the core personality remains. I don't want to be a singleton again. Having accepted my headmates, I like them there, and don't want them to go away. Understandably, the idea frightens them even more. Oh, and there's also the issue of my kink - will a therapist want to 'fix' that as well?

There are advantages to going to therapy. By having an official diagnosis, I would be afforded a tiny bit of protection by the ADA. But really, I'm skeptical of that protecting me much. There are easy ways around it. I might actually get some help that I didn't realize I needed; some actual help could come out of it. But I'm pretty happy and stable for now. Though of course that can change. I recognize that having my own Counselor in my head isn't really a substitute for professional therapy; it's something I should do. But I keep putting it off.