Whenever I tell someone that I have multiple personalities, the response is usually, "Am I talking to Anna?"
Yes. You are.
It was the apparent memory loss. The time lapses. Evidence of mysterious self harm. The overly-friendly encounters with 'strangers' (wait, you say we've met how many times?).The eerie sensation of leaving myself, the feeling of a different consciousness telling me to just let go, that everything will be ok. It was the panic of suddenly finding myself somewhere, with no idea how I came to be there- in the passenger seat of a maroon SUV driven by a girl I've never met... on the sunken green couch in the living room of a house I've no memory of entering... or perhaps on the plastic covered mattress in a dimly lit hospital room, with those little blue grip socks and a cotton ball taped over a venipuncture site.
It was dozens of encounters of being called a strange name. Hundreds of scars covering my body. Thousands of varying journal entries. It was a lifetime of trying desperately to explain myself in vain before I was diagnosed with DID.
No comments:
Post a Comment