*cross-posted from my lj. hope no one minds*
Tonight, someone told me something very similar, although I can't recall his exact wording. Something about being grounded, maybe.
I think it speaks volumes about how good we've gotten at being me. It is bizarre to me that I should come off as so level.
And it is at this point in my life where I am courting the dishevelment of that levelness. At the exact moment I am possibly the most "sane" I have ever been I choose to shake it up.
I learned very little in T about my head or this system. I was in crisis. Absolute crisis. And the main objective was to get me settled down; to learn some internal communicating skills and cooperation to make my day-to-day livable. I remember precious little about those sessions.
I only know that I got better.
Hill never wavered in her diagnosis and I got better. I don't remember nearly a thing and I got better. So far as I know we never discovered what the root of this thing was and I got better. She had an intern sit in on my sessions because her focus was DID and I got better.
Funny how I still question it.
When I am well, I question it plenty. And then I'll hear my name called in my head. Or I'll enjoy some food I know I hate only to go back to not being able to stomach the taste the next day. Or, like tonight, I'll be approached by someone who knows me, obviously knows me and not even remotely recognize them. I am great with faces and I swear I've never met this guy in my life. Nor have I ever seen him. But he knew me. A told me I'd met him in mid-march. I was really sick in mid-mar. Switchy in mid-mar. But he knew me. I think it's that sort of thing that freaks me out the most.
Because I am fairly boring in my psychosis. I've been spending time with the boys across the hall and the people close to me need to know about this and they found it barely credible. I seem so grounded. So sane.
And living with myself... seeing this psychosis run it's course every day... it amazes me that I hide it so well.
But I am losing my grip on it some. I am spending less and less time alone. They've gotten very used to "playtime". The price I pay to appear sane and manage a relatively "normal" life is to let go of the reins at night. And the less time I spend not fronting the more time they steal by surprise.
It's a tightrope, you know. Every day I walk a tightrope of sanity. And I've done well for a long time now. I'm good at it. Mild episodes on occasion. Nothing more, really. Except for March I've been really ok.
But you always wonder. My history shows that the bad episodes are proportionate to the time I've spent well and so you always wonder.
I've been well, yes. But I've been a recluse. What happens when I step out?
Tonight, someone told me something very similar, although I can't recall his exact wording. Something about being grounded, maybe.
I think it speaks volumes about how good we've gotten at being me. It is bizarre to me that I should come off as so level.
And it is at this point in my life where I am courting the dishevelment of that levelness. At the exact moment I am possibly the most "sane" I have ever been I choose to shake it up.
I learned very little in T about my head or this system. I was in crisis. Absolute crisis. And the main objective was to get me settled down; to learn some internal communicating skills and cooperation to make my day-to-day livable. I remember precious little about those sessions.
I only know that I got better.
Hill never wavered in her diagnosis and I got better. I don't remember nearly a thing and I got better. So far as I know we never discovered what the root of this thing was and I got better. She had an intern sit in on my sessions because her focus was DID and I got better.
Funny how I still question it.
When I am well, I question it plenty. And then I'll hear my name called in my head. Or I'll enjoy some food I know I hate only to go back to not being able to stomach the taste the next day. Or, like tonight, I'll be approached by someone who knows me, obviously knows me and not even remotely recognize them. I am great with faces and I swear I've never met this guy in my life. Nor have I ever seen him. But he knew me. A told me I'd met him in mid-march. I was really sick in mid-mar. Switchy in mid-mar. But he knew me. I think it's that sort of thing that freaks me out the most.
Because I am fairly boring in my psychosis. I've been spending time with the boys across the hall and the people close to me need to know about this and they found it barely credible. I seem so grounded. So sane.
And living with myself... seeing this psychosis run it's course every day... it amazes me that I hide it so well.
But I am losing my grip on it some. I am spending less and less time alone. They've gotten very used to "playtime". The price I pay to appear sane and manage a relatively "normal" life is to let go of the reins at night. And the less time I spend not fronting the more time they steal by surprise.
It's a tightrope, you know. Every day I walk a tightrope of sanity. And I've done well for a long time now. I'm good at it. Mild episodes on occasion. Nothing more, really. Except for March I've been really ok.
But you always wonder. My history shows that the bad episodes are proportionate to the time I've spent well and so you always wonder.
I've been well, yes. But I've been a recluse. What happens when I step out?
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 07:55 am (UTC)But, you also seem to feel that sharing your body with others is something that makes you crazy in and of itself. (If I'm mistaken, please feel free to correct me.) It isn't. Regardless of why or how you got to be multiple in the first place, there are always ways to work out some kind of cooperative living situation. Perhaps the times when you're in control are uncomfortable for others because they're not getting enough time out, and so they feel they have to take it at any opportunity.
The price we pay for appearing 'normal' to the outside world (i.e. the same person at all times) is that people have to suppress their individual ways of talking and acting, in favour of an agreed-upon public 'face.' But still, I'd rather have the chance, even if it means I have to relinquish some of who I am when interacting with people who know us as a single person.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 09:39 am (UTC)I put it down to people not being very good at knowing what's going on in other people's heads. It's not just multiples; if an average 'normal' person caught an accurate glimpse of another average 'normal' person's thought processes, chances are they would seem very foreign indeed.
For the record, sounds like you're coping very well indeed, managing not to be overwhelmed too often. I wish you all luck.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 04:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-13 09:28 pm (UTC)When someone's convinced you're crazy, everything they see you do will only confirm it for them. It can be the same thing when you're overanalysing yourself.
My, I'm eloquent with the psychobabble recently. ;)
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 12:53 pm (UTC)I think both can be true in a sense. It sounds like you have enough communication going to manage to do what you want to do. That is definitely a societal definition of sanuty. However you're also in touch enough to know that there is a tradeoff, because you're not a statistically average person, which is the playtime and everything else.
A lot of multiples I know have made this tradeoff somewhat permanently, at least for their working lives. Not sure what happens when they retire. :)
There are alternative ways to work at it - a little bit less of the "completely normal and stable" in public (and I don't mean not meeting commitments and stuff but more presenting as one person) in exchange for less - urgency, I guess is the word - during private time.
For us I find that a more stable way to live, but it took some instability to get there - or at least what felt like instability. So, can't tell you what happens when you step out, but it sounds like you're finding that you don't want to trade all your free time for stability during the day. And personally I'd say hey, good observation. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 01:22 pm (UTC)You are saner now than you have ever been.
It takes a while for questioning the group reality to settle. It has been years and some of us still wonder every now and then. It has become an internal joke of sorts, deciding how to deal with the next set of doubts.
Switchiness doesn't have to be a bad thing if communication among you stays healthy. Several of us have flashbacks and trauma issues - switching fast and frequently is often a sign that we're about to work thru another memory. Not a fun thing, but the people holding it start healing after we've worked thru it. We all feel better when we let those things go.
When things get complicated, don't be afraid to call your Hill up and ask for help. Even if she's far away, she may be able to recommend books or someone local who can help. It sounds like she's one of those rare therapists who understands about operating system issues. Consider asking her to teach you what methods she was using to help you learn to communicate together.
We get told a lot by our friends that we're "so wise!" It makes us laugh sometimes. :P They don't know the price paid for that wisdom.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 07:07 pm (UTC)