Sitting in Judgement
People just can’t imagine what it’s like for us. We’ve all been judged for being dissociative. So, we’ve spent our lives learning how to hide the DID. We’ve been forced to call it something else, anything else, to rationalize it away. DID has been the cause of damaged relationships, misunderstandings, loss of jobs, loss of friends and deep loneliness. So, how much do we ever disclose?
I chose to tell my family and close friends.
They may not understand, but I’ve tried. I told my family and a couple of close friends, because I wanted them to understand why I did or said certain things. I’d rather they know that I’m not forgetful, or undependable, or low in character, I’m fighting a disorder that occasionally makes me that way. I want them to know that if I don’t remember something, it’s not my choice and I do deeply care about them still. I can’t control when I switch, and now they are starting to see it and can deal with it however they choose.
I find that during conversations I can tell them I’m sorry for not knowing about something we’ve already talked about. They seem to be more understanding, rather than mad at me. Honestly, it’s been pretty amazing. I’m hopeful that as time goes by my relationships with my family will only get better. I’m finding that I’m less defensive knowing that they know about my DID. I feel safer.
DID is a purely defensive position. We are defending ourselves by switching. I find that I’m not as capable of being loving and compassionate toward others. It’s hard for me to reach out toward others with an open heart, because I’m so used to waiting for the next trigger to come. This makes me seem and feel very self-centered and I don’t like that. I find I have to strive to be kind, loving and caring because it doesn’t come naturally to me. Some of my alters are that way, so I seem kind and caring, but I’m not that way. I’m always waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.
I hate being defensive, that’s why I fully disclosed my DID to my family and close friends. It was just my personal choice. It may not be yours, and that’s okay. It seems that having DID is a lot like grief — everyone does it very differently.
Food for thought,