Jenny is my 7 year old part who has more smarts and personality than all the rest of us put together. She’s also quite sensible,without being rigid (like some parts I could–but won’t–mention.) She’s been pushing me for at least 6 months to come clean about my DID to family & friends, but I don’t know if all of my inside people are ready for that. Spill the beans? Let the cat out of the bag? Hmmm…wouldn’t the sky fall, or something equally catastrophic occur if I dared tell the truth (
“do I dare disturb the universe?”)
Maybe I’d do well to take a more practical approach, as sweet Jenny has been urging me to do. What would be the benefits to myself if I were to come out of the closet, so to speak?
I could experience (for the first time in over 4 decades) what it feels like to be my authentic self on a daily basis.
Maybe, just maybe, not all of my fatigue is due to my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.
There’s a chance–a huge chance, I’m beginning to suspect–that equally as fatiguing as my physical disorder is the tremendous effort it takes to hide my DID from those around me. To fake it, knowing what a fraud I am day after day, is a task so herculean that I am just beginning to perceive the dimensions of my self-imposed (selves-imposed?) exile from the world of reality.
People will no doubt still exchange funny looks when one of my parts says or does something off-the-wall….but if they know I have DID, at least they’ll be aware of the reason for my being so different. Which is another way of saying that I’ll still act like an idjit, but everyone will know why.
So those are some of the pros I’ve come up with for telling the truth about myself. Here are some of the cons:
My family & friends will look at me differently. Everytime I do or say something the least bit off (meaning odd, unexpected, childish, et.) they’ll wonder, if not say out loud, “Who said that?” Like I always know the answer to that myself! And even if I did, does it matter who said what? I read a quote about DID on a website recently that went something like, “you’re all part of the same quilt.” Oh, I like that.
Once those close to me are told the truth, they can’t ever regress to a state of not knowing. Their knowledge of my disorder (a word I have come to loathe, but we’ll get into that later) is something that will always be there between us, like the invisible hairy beast squatting in the middle of the room, emiting foul odors and fouler imprecations, which everyone is too polite to mention.
I will get teased. Believe me, in my family I will get teased. And while I see the humor in DID (and make jokes about it myself to the couple of individuals who know about me), my parts are sensitive. See, they don’t think of themselves as being odd, or a disorder. So the more I get razzed about them, the more I’m going to have to nurture their hurt feelings–and quite frankly I don’t want to do any more nurturing of them than I am already doing on a regular basis.
I could ramble on & on about the cons….but I find just focusing too long on DID leaves me as limp (emotionally & physically) as the proverbial dishrag. I’m weary of the whole subject; I need, WE need, to spill the beans before everyone starts acting out in ways I’ll most certainly regret in the months to come. Except for Jenny, of course. She’s always pretty much stabilized…and I still want to be like her when I grow up.