Being toyed with an eaten alive by these bits of madness.
Stay forever? Maybe, one day, but for now you assume it'll pass if you could only work it all out in your mind. Mapping these instances through, for me personally, it's words. Chaotic word puzzles. Madness. Word puzzles. They all connect in some way, but if I wrote it all down you're likely to wonder, "How the F*** did you get there?" Consumed as these words and phrases intertwine. Confounding and numbing, I space out and slowly begin to dissociate when people are around. Luckily, I'm alone right now, sitting here with nothing but a laptop, music, and a weasel occasionally pawing at my feet for attention.
Recently trying to work through some things in therapy and making an attempt to get our therapist to understand my mind. It's a process. I don't ever mean to be difficult. I am aware of how I come across to many, possibly most, people. I can be confusing and am often misunderstood. I don't think about things emotionally. Which as you may imagine does cause problems from time to time, but my parts do help me with this. Luckily.
|An attempt to explain my mind to our Therapist|
I was just discussing this with a friend, who knows I have DID. She's a hoot, funny lady, you'd like her, but she mentioned a few things about kids and such. life in general and saying that it would be very interesting to be able to have not lost that wonder and whimsy in her life. Specifically, we were discussing the book/film, Matilda. She brought up that since some of my parts are much younger than me, being co-conscious with them must be interesting and at times probably even fun. It hadn't occurred to me, but while we were talking I began obsessively thinking about it and it is. She isn't wrong, there are aspects of it I find fascinating, but that's more so because I can feel their--my parts-- excitements, fears, worries, and joys. Something I don't really experience without them.