I’m so tired. . .tired of thinking that others who know about my DID expect me to be able to keep pushing myself to do whatever needs doing, because I have extra “people” to help me get it done. Maybe they don’t think it, though. Maybe it’s all in my head (duh.) Maybe I just think I’m a multiple, but in reality I’m just this whacked out, frumpy old nana with lots of quirks. Maybe my abusive childhood never happened, and I just have a vivid imagination and need lots of attention.
Maybe I’m in denial today. Again. Tired of dealing with DID related issues. Wanting simply to exist, like everyone else. What would that be like? To not be constantly pulled in so many directions that you just want to plop down and cry; crawl back into bed and let the world turn without you for once? But you can’t because you have so many insiders to care for. People on the outside too who depend on you for this and that.
I’m used to wearing facades. Used to smiling when there’s nothing to smile about. When the stepdad would corner me in the hallway and hiss in my ear, “You’d better start smiling more, so Mom won’t get suspicious,” well, I tried to do as I was told. Tried to wear a different expression. Didn’t know at the time that it wasn’t just a different expression I wore, but a completely different personality.
I’m sure I wore the same stilted smile through several bad marriages. Through all the years (centuries, it seemed!) of my childrens’ addictions and truancies and needs, etc. I don’t know why I’m even writing this post today, nothing exceptional has happened to bring me down. It’s just. . .well, guess I’m just tired.