Learning I have DID, remembering all the fucking trauma, and learning a new life skill...living with alters, I felt like, finally, maybe I have a purpose.."to help others with DID and their loved ones".
Maybe all that abuse was for me to speak out about mental illness and DID. Maybe I was meant to be abused as a child, so I could be an example later...
People who survive cancer, war, career changes, deaths of loved ones, etc...use their experiences to help others, to share what worked for them and hopefully others can learn from that experience.
People share weight loss diets, exercise routine, cancer meds and food, christian promises, people share in grief and support each other..and it is appreciated and spread to others.
Only it is different with DID. Sharing my diagnosis, sharing some of my abuse and the struggles I have, are not edifying to anyone. NO one can relate...No one speaks about it, because frankly they don't believe it or have a hard time believing it, and if someone is doubtful, they do not share it with others...
and it does not help when the medical establishment doesn't believe it either.
So, my whole fucking life has been without meaning and purpose.
When I had the breast cancer scare, I had all kinds of support, people from all over trying to encourage and support me, because breast cancer is socially acceptable and everyone knows someone who has had it....DID is a silent killer. It hides in silence and it kills in silence and is blamed on depression.
DID is covert, it hides easily and puts on a smile...
If it was planned for me to be born, to be hated, abused and cast aside like a piece of dog shit, so I could develop DID and become a freak show to "supposedly help others", then the joke is on me.
I am not entertainment. I am a real person...I just happen to be a person with fucking alternate personalities. Thanks MOM. Thanks for fucking ruining my life, ruining everything...for ruining my chances of a successful marriage, ruining my chances of having a career, ruining my chances of living without hiding, ruining my ability to have and hold on to friends...Ruining my brain. I am ruined, just like all the burnt meals you cooked...ruined but eat it anyway.
There is no teaching moment for me, or Kevin. Tough to teach when there are no students and no interest, and no desire to learn...so, I am finished.
I feel like the King: with no clothes. I stand up and try and speak to the masses, only I am naked and the masses are laughing at me....
The best thing for me and these damn fucking alters is to just shut the fuck up. So, here it is.
I am shutting the fuck up.
S, 7, Sophee
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