A couple of years ago, when I was going through an extremely difficult time, I came across a concept from Marsha Linehan (Dialectical Behaviour Therapy) which she referred to as “A Life Worth Living”. Many of my alters at this time were in a constant life-and-death struggle; everything seemed hopeless and pointless; and the grim reality of living everyday with overwhelming flashbacks and pain was getting too much.
Someone who has dissociative identity disorder may have distinct, coherent identities within themselves that are able to assume control of their behaviour and thought.
It’s not a definition or some bullet-points on a page, a menu of things that were done or could have been done, or might yet be done. It’s something to do with me as a person, the me that I’m so scared to show you, that I’m so scared to be, because of what happened …
What is it like to be me? What is it like to be the me that is me-not-you, different, alone, DID?
You – in my minds you are you-not-us, but who am I to you? Can you know me?
I hate my body. It was there, always there, during the abuse.
My mind went away but my body could not. My mind could forget.