Is There Anybody Out There?

A non Hollywood life with Dissociative Identity Disorder


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I beez in the trap… are my alters?

I dissociated and found myself face deep into a shiite Nikki Minaj playlist on YouTube the other day, when I “woke up” my heart was racing and I felt like id run a marathon. This state is usually indicative of me having just been a “teen” me, or younger me, which made sense after I checked out the rest of the videos on the playlist (goth emo hair tutorials? dunno. wtf. LOL) . While I enjoy the visual appeal of Ms.Minaj and shes puts on a great performance, Im not a fan of her music.

Ive seen people online who report having a diagnosis of DID often times associating their alters appearance with fictional characters from the media. The  images they or their alters choose seem to follow a pattern of being very beautiful, male or female, human or non human beings, anime characters, vampires , angels, and other types in the same vein. Personally Ive never thought to try to map out what my alters look like, nor have any of my alters done this for themselves (However I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking  or doing all the time so maybe they have thought about it or are running some secret alter dating website somewhere using pictures of Twilight characters on their profile trying to hook up with other alters, GO TEAM EDWARD!)  Anyways, since I dont really have a clear image of what my alters look like, I started to think  ” Well what if all my alters looked like Nikki Minaj” and voilà, an art project. No, seriously I spent like 2 days collaging various images of Nikki Minaj together, immersing myself in her music, just well, because. So you better love it internet. What if all my alters DO think they look like Nikki Minaj?? Oh god.

nikki

And a very interesting video by a rapper named B.O.B featuring Nikki Minaj for your viewing pleasure. enjoy.

and, the title, I have no idea what this video is telling me, but i like the title


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Weird shit shrinks cry over and great poetry

<3group hug! When i saw the sensitive side of my therepist, It melted me. He read me this poem first in Swedish, than in English. His deep, variably accented voice is perfect for narration, I’m not bragging or anything but I’d say he was the David Attenborough of the non domesticated shrink world. Yeah, thats right, Attenborough. It’s awfully touching to meet someone in the mental health profession that is first off so emo, and second so open in front of their patient. Shrinks, its okay to cry in front of your patients, don’t worry, we’re not the same species as you, we wont judge you for it ;)

so here it is in Swedish, good luck with that!

nah kidding, english is below it, but seriously, learn Swedish. (I hate it when people say that as if your going to go home and learn Swedish just so you can read their stupid post or poem huhhh, UGH) Well its okay, I think its just more power and emotion in the words and their correlations and meanings in Swedish. Whatever , read it.


Ja visst gör det ont

Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister.
Varför skulle annars våren tveka?
Varför skulle all vår heta längtan
bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger?
Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister,
ont för det som växer
och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller.
Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger,
klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider -
tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger.
Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad,
svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla,
ändå sitta kvar och bara darra -
svårt att vilja stanna
och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper,
Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar.
Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller,
faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya
glömmer att de ängslades för färden -
känner en sekund sin största trygghet,
vilar i den tillit
som skapar världen.

Of course it hurts when buds burst.
Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
Why would all our fervent longing
be bound in the frozen bitter haze?
The bud was the casing all winter.
What is this new thing, which consumes and bursts?
Of course it hurts when buds burst,
pain for that which grows
and for that which envelops.

Of course it is hard when drops fall.
Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
clammer on the branch, swell and slide -
the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
yet sit there and just quiver -
hard to want to stay
and to want to fall.

Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond
help,
the tree’s buds burst as if in jubilation,
then, when fear no longer exists,
the branch’s drops tumble in a shimmer,
forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
forgetting that they were fearful of the journey -
feeling for a second their greatest security,
resting in the trust
that creates the world.

(PS- Im in a state at the moment I call “halfsies”, which is basically im in between personality states. Its a feeling like no other, or well, like dissociating, ya know theres THAT analogy.  My body is doing one thing,,, my mind is doing another and its like Im in a fuzzy dream world. It’s shit honestly. I don’t know what Sally Field was on about, this blows)


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Sick days and why an “alter” just don’t get it

SO WE’RE sick, and when I say we I mean me an IRL child of mine. The weirdest thing is, I think alternate mes’ dont experience “illness” and colds in the same way. Of course I say this by observations made by irl people, and not based off the internal chitty chat. Which ranges from ” I DON WANNA GO SKOOOOLLL” to “F”#$% I F”#$% HATE sick people”

They just don’t understand sick, I wonder if to them its like a figment of their imagination, like when you remember a time when you got food poisoned and sort of feel a slight wingeing. So no matter how I feel, they go about their day/space time period as if nothings different. Alters don’t get sick….****ENTER DREAM SEQUENCE….NOW!***** (I dissociated in the middle of this post.)

if (they’re) frontin’ (they) don akt sik, meh (they) just laugh at sik. mayB drink some syrup and eat some red vines, alll better. thas whats up.

I decided to block quote that just to show you how ridiculous this is sometimes. It is ludicrous. What happened to my spelling and grammar? Does it take extra effort to spell and form sentences in such a hideous manner guys, really? I wonder, I know im supposed to “ask within” but I’m not opening up this courtroom to the jury just yet. Too much drama in there, I swear if you could just listen in for a second its like 3 world wars all at once, all the time.

sigh…


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I stole this name

So, the child is asleep and again the house has returned to calm, quiet, save for the grumbly drying machine and the snoring kid…and the vagrants outside clanking bottles around in their bags. All is almost quiet. Like any good housewife I will begin to pack lunches for tomorrow, clean and wisp away all of todays grime from the house. OR get wasted and draw all over the walls, perhaps take a ride with a stranger to a strange house, board a plane and get married in Las Vegas to some woman from some cow poke town who calls herself Mary Lou and sucks down Marlboros like she were nursing from the teat of life. Well, thats always a possibility too.

Like any new blog I am totally enthusiastic about posting. Everyone, well almost everyone starts off strong so I figured why not. Post TWO in the same day? I have a lot to blab about, why not!

So about the title, my username, anarchtitude, was stolen from an alter. I don’t care if it pisses them off, but I like it so i’m using it.

My alters, are “my people”, they are multiple me, but I find im in a small crowd of DiD people who have this thing called DENIAL. UTTER DENIAL. Hatred of their “systems” hatred of the thought of being in this group, and hatred of this thing called dissociative identity disorder. Maybe its the stigma? Maybe its the fact that it’s sorta like religion in the mental health field, as in your either a “believer” or a “non-believer”, i’ve learned. Whatever it may be I pray every morning im someone else. “PLEASE anyone but me” I say. And in a way I guess I am.

I never really bought in to the multiple personalities/DiD thing, until I was forced to by some ‘unforeseen circumstances’ which didn’t allow me to remain in the closet any longer. These friggen’ alters are ever-present in my life and have been for a while. But denial is the face I put on when I walk out the door. “oh no no I’m not like THOSE people”, “I’m not CRAZY like THOSE people”. Well now the gay senator that screws boys in public toilets  by night and denies gays their rights by day is on the public block. This ‘crazy’ of mine has lingered for a long long time, Now its got a name, a label, itsa’ DID! and within that, one of those names is anarchtitude. and behind that hides my dear dear friend, Alice.


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well i dont care , i love it.

Im tired, but who isn’t? I reckon a lot of people aren’t actually. People like to relate to eachother, but for once when I say wow im tired id like the other person to say “well i feel fantastic and refreshed and am excited for the day”. Im sure there are those who awaken refreshed and clear headed, ready to nip out the door to work or to work-out. Singing in the shower, or going for a jog. Meeting a friend for a coffee, sitting out in the crisp winter air smoking a cigarette, or attending an early morning meeting in a ceder wood board room, feeling the power of the mighty empire theyve built around them. Golfing out on some misty green pasture somewhere, because thats what they like to do in the morning, taking in the fresh chilly air as they drive one to number 9 with half to go on their rota before a lovely spa or a wonderful breakfast. Sometimes I can smell smells that make no sense, like the overwhelming smell of horse stables, (dust and shit really) and while I know once upon a time that smell made sense, when it comes to me at random, I feel lost and confused. I wonder if the guy golfing remembers the smell of the mist beaded grass and the pines, and when he does, does he feel anything, remember anything? Okay not going to go poetic and philosophical this morning. Just a thought.

Appointment with social services today to discuss some upcoming benefits. But im so tired, not sure if ill piss about trying to wake myself up and then dissociate and miss it. I can only hope not. Fell asleep reading Meditations last night, (Marcus Aurelius). I always feel out of place reading philosophy, but its the “something inside me” that keeps me reading. Im not searching for anything in my simple life really, just for some kind of stable day to day existence. Since my short term memory seems as shot as my long term memory, when I read its like hearing a beautiful symphony that you can only haphazardly hum a few notes of later to a friend. Thats basically my lifetime recall. Its hard to explain, but Ill get there, as I try to keep up writing to strangers on the internet. As I read the words they fade away as fast as my eyes seem them and my recall seems to be, after going to book 3, about 2 words. I feel the words though, inside. Lingering emotions with no explanation.

While im feeling quite philosophical, one of mes’ feeling quite moody and broody. Well good morning, the wolf is at your door.

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