DID Awareness: the struggle

My major upset - the reason I’m doing all of this - is because of the ignorant people doubting the existence of DID. The doubt and the stereotypes are the reasons I believe DID awareness day is so important.

When someone says to me “that’s not real” or “that doesn’t exist” - they’re not just discrediting the diagnosis, but everything a DID sufferer goes through every - single - day

Let’s begin with the daily struggle to motivate yourself to do anything other than dissociate and stay in your safe place - to not waste hours of your life staring into nothing and losing concept of time

Or that amnesia that has a constant label on you for being “ditsy” or “blonde”, “unreliable” or even “dumb”, because concepts of time can be scrambled and random pieces of your memory are missing. Can’t find your keys before work? Tough, another alter moved them to let the cat out, but you won’t know that. Be late for work/classes/exams because everything you had laid out the night before has suddenly disappeared.

How about reminiscing about the good times with your pals? Woah hold on there - there’s little-to-none of that for you. Sit with your friends as they tell you about all of the good times you apparently had. And when they ask you to recall something? You’d best think of a good on the spot response to cover up your lack of recall - wouldn’t want to make them think you don’t care about them after all.

The anxiety and frustration that comes along with this disorder really make sure your self-containment is difficult to handle. Can’t remember ending up on a train crowded full of strangers? Or sat in the dentist chair with gloves down your throat? Tough luck. Can’t freak out or cry because people will say you’re attention seeking or over dramatic. They’ll believe you’re even more “crazy” than you know you already are. Best learn quickly how to handle these sudden situations that you have no memory of. With all of that anxiety and upset you can come across as a drama queen. “Suck it up” as friends/family/authoritative figures will tell you - your anxiety definitely doesn’t want you to displease them.

Or how about good ol’ decision making. Want to go out today? Where do you want to go? What do you want to eat? Would you like XYZ? Marvel at the sudden burst of self-doubt as you have no idea what to think or say because different parts want different things - have you even had time to think about what you want yet? No? Tough luck, because an alter has made a decision for you. It’s come out of your mouth and you can’t look back now.

Not to mention the headaches and migraines, the crippling flashbacks and anxiety attacks that coincide. How about the constant push and pull of not knowing who wants what and who exactly you are. The identity crisis will last a lifetime.

Don’t remember that cut, that bruise, those empty bottles of alcohol at 3pm when you were supposed to be at work/meeting that friend/going somewhere special? Oh well - just another normal day for you. Best start trying to put the pieces back together and sort out the social mess that you’ve inadvertently made.

Apparently - none of this exists. None of the struggle that I power through every day, exists. So when someone - be it an acquaintance or a health professional, says that what I go through “doesn’t exist”, there is a very real reason why I get so angry, why I snap, why my kindness to you is suddenly stripped away. To invalidate my disorder is an insult to my daily fight with everything that I do.

And then even when these people claim they disbelieve, their attitude changes. I’m a monster, a murderer, a “psycho”, someone who is dangerous or at risk. The old “how does your boyfriend cope?” “Your poor family! How on earth do they put up with you?” spiel that makes me feel more and more worthless and undeserving every time I hear it. Would these sorts of people say this if it was physical health we were dealing with? If it was an obvious broken arm rather than a “broken” mind?

Twice now my jobs have been at risk because someone hiring me saw nothing more than the label I had. My drivers licence almost got revoked because someone flagged up a medical investigation due to my illness, for absolutely no reason other than their own pigeon-holing. Hours of my time have been spent fighting my own corner with evidencing letters and legal discussions, all the while being made to feel like because I have this disorder, I’m not worthy of driving a car or having a job. And yet, simultaneously, these are the so-called non believers, who have clearly subjected themselves to a blindfolded stereotype.

You wouldn’t tell someone with broken arm that their symptoms and their struggles do not exist (“you’re making it up! It’s fine! Start boxing right this minute!”) You wouldn’t say that they’re not worthy to drive a car or have a job or live a normal life. So how dare anyone try and tell me the same thing about DID - my dissociative identity disorder that I have to live with each and every day, likely for the rest of my life.

It is valid, it is real, and it is something I should only ever be supported by others for overcoming what obstacles I face day in and day out. Everyone with this disorder should pat themselves on the fucking back for getting through another day - you are all absolute heroes to me and my only wish is that with each day, things get a little easier.

DID is not a joke - it is not a disorder for others to make fun of or persecute. It is a real life daily struggle - it is a real disorder, and we should be supported for that.