What's Wrong With Us?

I've been avoiding writing this blog post because to be honest, I'm still somewhat hesitant to accept the fact that I have this. I was first diagnosed with DID back in 2004, but I've been hiding it ever since (from everyone, including my family and my doctors) and I thought I had it under control. I was in denial all these years, and some of the K's are still in denial at this very moment.

Dissociative Identity Disorder is a psychiatric diagnosis whose essential feature is the presence of two or more distinct identities or personality states that recurrently take control of a person's behavior. It is also known as Multiple Personality Disorder. Memory loss which goes far beyond normal forgetfulness accompanies this condition when an alternate part of the personality becomes dominant.  At least two distinct personalities must be present in order to receive this diagnosis.

              Symptoms of DID:  (I have 14 of the following 20 symptoms)

• Current memory loss of everyday events
• Depersonalization
• Depression
• Derealization
• Disruption of identity characterized by two or more distinct personality states
• Distortion or loss of subjective time
• Flashbacks of abuse/trauma
• Frequent panic/anxiety attacks
• Identity confusion
• Mood swings
• Multiple mannerisms, attitudes and beliefs
• Paranoia
• Pseudoseizures or other conversion symptoms
• Psychotic-like symptoms such as hearing voices
• Self-alteration (feeling as if one's body belongs to someone else)
• Somatic symptoms that vary across identities
• Sudden anger without a justified cause
• Spontaneous trance states
• Suicidal and para-suicidal behaviors (such as self-injury)
• Unexplainable phobias

 Individuals diagnosed with DID frequently report severe physical and sexual abuse as a child.  The psyche splits into separate identities so as to distance the abused person from the trauma which is happening.  Many people, myself included, block those traumatic memories in their mind because they are unable to process and accept what has happened to them. DID is a coping mechanism.

 Co-morbid mental illnesses are the rule rather than the exception in all dissociative disorder cases, with 82% of DID patients being diagnosed with at least one other psychiatric diagnosis in their lifetime. DID co-morbidities include anxiety disorders such as posttraumatic stress disorder (up to 80%), social phobia, panic disorder  and obsessive-compulsive disorder.  Other common co-morbid conditions include mood disorders such as major depressive disorder. Also common are substance-related disorders, eating disorders such as bulimia nervosa, and somatoform disorders. In addition, a majority of those diagnosed with DID meet the criteria for borderline personality disorder. Studies have shown that DID patients are diagnosed with five to 7.3 co-morbid disorders on average - much higher than other mental illnesses.

I have a number of co-morbid disorders, but at this point I'm uncertain just how many.  This is probably the reason I've had so many different psychiatric diagnoses over the years, and also the reason it took so long for a doctor to conclude I have DID.  While I was first labeled with a dissociative disorder more than a decade ago, I have received very little treatment for it.  This is because the first doctor to diagnose me had barely scratched the surface of our therapy when I suddenly had to move to another city.  My next doctor, whom I currently see, has diagnosed me as definitely having a dissociative disorder, but we are just now starting to explore my condition. This is because I hid it from her for two years, and she had no idea about my symptoms until I came to therapy one day in a switched state.  A very different K had therapy that day.  Dr. H was very understanding, which is a blessing, for many doctors believe that DID is just a myth.

OK, so now you know about my disorder, probably about as much as I know. No, I cannot remember my childhood abuse specifically, but I do have certain memories which seem to support the existence of trauma.  Namely, I have childhood memories which are completely inappropriate for children to have. That's all I'm going to say about that subject.

Now, I would like to someday introduce you to the K's.  However, the truth of the matter is this: I don't know them all. I have a number of "alters" which I can recognize, but I have no idea how many of us there are. I'm still learning about this condition and I know very little at this point.  I know that my "switching" can happen at any time but seems to coincide with stress.  I know that I very often leave my body, and sometimes watch as another "me" interacts with the world; it's very strange to hear a voice coming out of your mouth when you are not talking. I also have a persistent feeling that I am not really living my life, but rather that I'm watching a movie of this life, with me being the lead character.

All of this is difficult to explain.  I have trouble talking to my psychiatrist about my thoughts and feelings.  I feel strange. Disconnected from the world. I've always, my whole life, felt different from everyone around me.  I've been hearing voices and hallucinating since I was 4, but I didn't realize that this was abnormal-I thought everyone experienced these things.  By my teens, I'd realized that the hallucinations were not supposed to happen, so therefore I kept them a secret.  I told no one.  When I was first sent to a psychiatrist at the age of 16, I was careful not to tell her very much about the real me, for fear she'd have me locked up in an insane asylum.  This fear has followed me to this very day.  In fact, just last week while I was in therapy,  I was crying but unable to tell my doctor what was wrong for fear she'd have me hospitalized.  For this reason, I believe my DID therapy is going to be a long and difficult process.  Thank God I have a doctor who does indeed believe in such a disorder.  Now we just have to figure out who K really is, and what happened to her to cause this splitting of her mind.  I think that scares me most of all.  I'm not sure I want to remember my childhood trauma(s).  Supposedly you can't heal unless you come to terms with the cause of your pain.  I'm just afraid that once I remember the cause, it'll just create MORE pain.  I already have problems with feeling guilty; I don't need to be made to feel even more guilty, in addition to feeling dirty and ashamed. Plus, what if I find out my abuser was someone I was close to, and it destroys my relationship with that person?  What if I'd rather not know who hurt me?  What if I can't handle the truth?

Help From Afar or She's Done This Before

When this current "episode" began,  (based upon my journal and this blog, I'm able to determine that this happened around the first of the year)  I tried desperately to think of some way to help my husband better understand what was happening, so that he wouldn't be so worried about me and whether I was having a "breakdown".  I could only think of one person on the planet who might be able to help in this situation, and that person happened to be my ex-boyfriend, who had once lived with me for a year, and who was studying psychology at that time and was good at recognizing symptoms.  I'm still very good friends with him,  and I respect him tremendously, but I was scared to death to talk to him about these matters because he and I had not discussed my mental health in years, except for the occasional joke about me being "crazy".

(I have to have a sense of humor about my mental health, or else I'd go nuts...or something like that)  After we broke up (8 years ago),  we never talked about the "weird things K does" again.  I can't remember whether I acted in this manner when I was with him, and I can't even say with certainty that "this" has ever happened to me at all.  (STOP IT! That's called DENIAL!)  I'm not sure how I mustered up the courage to do it, but after a tremendous amount of contemplation, I sent him a text and asked him if he could contact my husband regarding my "switching".  [Psychiatrists refer to the phase of transition between alters as the "switch" ]  It seemed to take forever for him to respond, and at first he wasn't sure what was happening; he soon figured it out when I started referring to myself in third person.  He realized he was talking to (an alter)  and I breathed a sigh of relief that he knew what was happening.  He took some time to compose an email which he then sent to my husband.  I thought perhaps this email can help me remember these events, as well as give some insight into what happens when someone switches.  It is dated January 9, 2012.  Here are the highlights of the email:






Ahh. I heard you're going through your first "switch" with K_____. Grats! Your marriage is now more of a Menage' a Trois! But I've been there and lived to tell the tale. Here's what I think from my experiences.

It's not as bad as it seems, but emotionally and mentally trying, and a bit confusing. Hers is one related to a Dissociative Disorder...    Her "switching" into a depersonalized K____ is like a computer being run in safe mode: you can't really fuck up a computer in safe mode as easily as you can in regular mode.  It's a protective thing that she does to insulate herself from trauma by distancing herself from "K_____" and seeing herself in the 3rd Person.

Think of it this way: It's like watching a movie of your life and saying "Man, I'd hate to be that guy" when, in fact, you are that guy. It removes you from the immediate path of harms way with things like arguments, panic attacks and anxiety, uncomfortable social situations, and facts of life that she would rather postpone dealing with until her brain doesn't feel so threatened.
 
...Switched K_____ is more distant than normal K_____. Her manic episodes before a depressive spell were pretty easy to see, because she would have more outward gestures like laughter, talking and telling jokes, moving around a lot (like almost dance-like movements), and overacted hand gestures clued me in a lot. This is not like mania, but she can depersonalize herself while having a manic episode, which is confusing as hell to say the least. She'll feel like she's dreaming or "not quite here."

There are many kinds of disorders- long story short, they exist to buffer the person that has them from the direct repercussions of high stress. 

He then inserted some links to the Mayo Clinic. How cool is that?  He not only recalled his own experiences with us, but he also gave additional info to my husband. In the end my husband got some relief, some peace of mind, when he read the email, and I was reassured that I do, indeed, have friends who care about me.  

My Newest Obsession

I've mentioned before that K has an obsessive personality and tends to go overboard when she gets an idea in her head.  Well, the idea currently inhabiting her brain space is the possibility-nay, likelihood of her being diagnosed with a dissociative disorder.  Based on the clues which I seem to be leaving myself-notebooks, lists, folders on my laptop filled with helpful websites, and the all-important diaries-I was first labeled MPD/DID back in 2004.  I'm looking at the calendar and seeing that it is now 2012, which can only mean one thing: I've been in denial for about 8 years, or so it would seem. My theory is that the paranoia took over and I refused to accept the diagnosis, for I certainly didn't want to be THAT crazy...  I've been under a doctor's care-regularly, without a break-since 2002.  So that must mean that it took my therapist and psychiatrist roughly 2 years to figure out what was going on with me.  Apparently I've been misdiagnosed over and over again, for all these years, ever since I saw my first psychiatrist at age 16.  Every doctor I see takes notes and makes a diagnosis based upon the "me" that is sitting in the doctor's office.  I can't say for sure how many of the K's went to therapy, with that wonderful therapist whom we loved so much, (who later dumped me after 7 years together) but I have recalled a memory or two in regards to that period of time and my current state of mind. I thought I'd share these memories with you (plus, it'll help me remember again in the future)

I remember one time going in to see the therapist (this was about 5 years ago) and she asked me to do a homework assignment;  I was to draw a picture of the way I viewed myself.  I think the assignment was supposed to help me with my Body Dysmorphic Disorder and self-esteem issues.  Well, she was blown away the next week when I showed up with a whole handful of pictures of different K's, each with her own fashion sense and musical tastes and hobbies.  I didn't get what the big deal was; I just did the exercise as it was assigned to me.  Now I'd give anything to get hold of those drawings again.  I can see some of them in my mind, but it's all fuzzy, like it was a dream.  I think perhaps I'll do this exercise again and see what happens next time.  I wonder how many drawings there will be...?

Another interesting memory is really several similar memories, all taking place at different points in time.  I remember my therapist asking me what my name was.  I remember that well.... in fact she asked me for my name on half a dozen or so occasions that I can recall.  I never knew what to say.  I never knew the answer to the question.  Although the question stirred something within me, I couldn't put my finger on the point of it all.  So I forgot about it, until recently.  Now it's true that I've probably developed an unhealthy obsession with Google and Twitter and the web in general.  In fact, I'm so focused on doing "research" on the subject of DID that it pisses me off I have to stop for eating and sleeping.  There's no time for such trivial matters!  I'm working on a deadline here! I don't know how much longer I can stick around and take care of things.  All I can remember clearly about my being here, in this "lifetime" is that I once had my own office and kept lots of photos, to remind me of my life-literally-and when everything fell apart, (as it always inevitably does) I ran away to a different state and became a different ME.  And that's how I usually handled working a job-stay and do well until the pressure builds and we snap and disappear, go away.  But I've totally gotten off the track of our subject!  Damn!  I HATE when that happens, when I "lose my place" and have to reread everything I've written and try and figure out where I  left off.  Sigh.

I can't remember what the point of all this was, I just wanted to share with you my theory about K.  I think she's got DID, and I think she's been in denial for years because it's too frightening a diagnosis for her to bear.  Also, I've been researching and have found that DID is the same as MPD, so those 2 diagnoses, made by different doctors at different times in my life, were actually the same thing and thus gives us more reason to believe that K does in fact has this disorder.  I just wish I had read all those diaries and journals I've been keeping all my life.  So much time has been wasted at this point already...

The Lost Blog Post

I was editing our blog-we are still trying to figure out how to do this-and I came across this draft.  I have some memory of someone writing it...Not sure who or when...Anyhoo, I thought perhaps I'd share it with you, as I myself found it rather insightful.  Or something. It goes like this:


Hello and good day there! It's about time that someone, anyone, step up to the plate and tell the (non-)Real World who, and perhaps more importantaly, WHAT we are!  I apparently need to get off my ever-increasing ass and do something about this situation! So while it may be true that according to phone records and internet timestamps, we've only been asleep for say, 3 hours, and during that 3 hours let's say that I took some Seroquel and every one of us knows how much that frightens K, and that technically she should still be sleeping due to it's sedating qualities...i.e. This shit usually knocks us on our face and we sleep for at least 12 hours, so therefore WTF am I doing awake this damn early?!? Sigh. Things just can't seem to go as planned these days...


We're only a few entries (unless it's changed since I woke up; not saying it hasn't--) into this New Blog, and I've said this to someone before, perhaps you, that I'm dissatisfied with the look and feel of it.  I am looking at this and reading this and this just WILL NOT DO at all!  This blog seems rushed and NOT put-together-right and our OCD simply will NOT stand by and let this go on any further! It should be perfect.  It should be entertaining, and interesting, and maybe even a bit controversial as well, since K so enjoys that feeling of risk-taking, and after having read this so-called Blog, we have decided that K is NOT up to the task and someone else positively MUST take over the reins for awhile.  And that someone appears to be me today.


Who the hell am I? you may be asking yourselves, and I will be happy to answer that question.  We are K, not to be confused with The Kellie, (who is fabulous but rarely comes around anymore from what we can tell), we are the conglomeration of all the things and people and ideas and whatnot which belong to K but which she currently cannot express because K suffers from "mild"(?!) Schizophrenia and Major Depressive Disorder and perhaps even Dissociative Identity Disorder (we were just making strides in that area when our therapist dropped us; damn the luck!) even though she thinks (HAHA) that she's currently OK, she truly is very seriously depressed and/or mentally ill and just unable to talk about it.  For a number of reasons which shall become (at least somewhat) clear by the end of this post.  Hmm.  I wonder how long this post will be??  (cue dramatic music, then cut sharply, and zoom in to the center) We shall see, Oh yes, we shall see indeed.


The story starts as many stories do, only ours doesn't necessarily start at the beginning...rather, it starts somewhere in the middle and then jumps back and forth from past to future, never really lingering long enough in the NOW to have a "normal" life, whatever that may be. In our mind, "normal life" means literally "the life that most normal people lead" and it entails a job and a spouse and some kids and probably a dog and a mortgage and plans for some sort of future in which the star of the show has grandchildren and memories of a long and fulfilling life, with the usual ups and downs along the way but which ultimately has a happy ending.  The "...and they lived happily ever after" part of the movie. But NO, not us, not now, not EVER, that's just not the hand that was dealt us in life, and we must face the facts. K is still (after all these years) in denial, and probably always will be.  It's just in her nature to be negative, only she considers this "realistic" and gets pissy if someone calls her a pessimist for she very clearly is a realist.  But I'm jumping ahead again. Damn.  I forget sometimes that this is NEW, that you don't know us, that you are NOT my doctor or my therapist or my partner or even my friend yet, and that some explaining needs to be done.  How could anyone possibly jump into the middle of this madness and be able to successfully navigate their way through  these troubled waters? Not even I can do that, and at the moment, I am the captain of the damn boat! ("Ship" I hear Daddy whisper in my ear "A boat fits on a ship, a ship cannot fit on a boat!") K's father was in the Navy and loved all things ship-related. So let's dive right in, shall we say, and start swimming.  I'll be nearby with a life preserver for you in case of sharks or piranha or whatnot.  You will be safe, I (cannot) promise. Just keep swimming.

We are known collectively as K, and we were first diagnosed with a "mental disorder" and given a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder (although at the time it was called "Manic-Depressive Disorder"; I suppose this dates me EEK!) when we were 16. Now granted, just because this is when the illness was brought to the attention of us and (some of) our family, it does NOT mean this is when we first got sick. No, we've been hearing voices and/or having hallucinations since roughly the age of 4.  For as long as we can remember, in other words. It just didn't really become a problem for us until I was a teenager. Actually, K had no idea that anything was wrong with her at all, because this way was the ONLY way she'd ever known. She assumed everyone else also had a sports broadcaster in their reality, commentating on their "game" of life.  Throughout her childhood, she heard people refer to "that little voice inside your head", so she thought it was perfectly normal to have someone in your ear telling you to do things.  The fact that she had more than one voice didn't make her ill, it just made her special, and so we lived with these voices and were not afraid at that time.  They were nice to her back then, perhaps because she was innocent. The visual hallucinations were her "imaginary friends" that a lot of children have.  K's secret is that she never outgrew them as other children do. (They are no longer my imaginary "friends" however; more like enemies)


Now we come to the childhood trauma which every therapist seems to think mental illness comes from, although I'm not sure mine was all that traumatic for me until I began seeing a certain therapist in my mid-20's,  which seems a long time ago now, (but how would I know? I have no concept of time. And K has issues with her age-she doesn't believe she's as old as she is-but that is definitely another tale for another time) and she told us that I was displaying all the signs and symptoms of sexual abuse. (Yes, I do exhibit the classic signs. I'm not going to list them here; you can easily find out for yourself online what exactly those signs/symptoms are) Now we've tried to revert back to our childhood and remember who exactly did what and when...Yes, it happened. Yes, it was a family member.  Two actually (but NOT our beloved parents!) But in the end we  only succeeded in making ourselves feel more uncomfortable than ever in our own skin and brought about feelings of guilt, as though she had done something to deserve it and it was her own fault that she got molested. No, K was unable to handle that reality and therefore she dissociated and created her own reality and we can't really remember those super-traumatic things anymore. K isn't allowed to think about that stuff.  It's best we not go down that path again, I assure you. It's a slippery slope and we always fall and it takes literally years for us to get back up again.  So we will NOT be talking about the molestation OR the rape(s). Another time, another place. Maybe.


Jump ahead now, and K is a teenager, and puberty kicks in and the hormones start to take over and this starts to compete with the Mental Illness (which of course is going untreated at this time) and what happens is  she becomes a suicidal mess and gets sent away to the loony bin for what seemed years but which we now know was only 3 months.  And in those 3 months, K's parents did all they could to hide K's illness from the rest of the family; they were ashamed that something like this could happen to them and they thought they'd be judged, and let's face it folks, there IS a stigma, and back then it was much worse even than it is today.  We certainly never had famous actors going on national television and announcing they were Bipolar or Bulimic or anything like that; it was something we didn't talk about, something to be ashamed of and embarrassed by, something that happens to other families, not ours. So K's sister, her very own sister, was never even told that K had been hospitalized for attempting to commit suicide (the wrist slashing we can't remember-it was too traumatic; we just have the scars and nightmares now) not once but several times, using different methods, which we obsessed about and which we were constantly in our head planning out for K's future. She intended to be dead by age 25 anyway.       


That's the end of the draft.  As I've stated earlier, we're not sure which one of us wrote that.  But it seems important to share it with someone, anyone, and that someone turned out to be you.