#by ginger

The "pretending it doesn't exist" type - never talks to me about my experiences, never comments whenever I mention anything related to my DID whether it's alters or switching or even something as common as dissociation, look visibly uncomfortable whenever I talk about my DID experiences.

The "means well but trying not to be rude" type - acknowledges I have DID but never really interacts with that fact. avoids asking questions because they likely don't want to offend me (despite me stating multiple times that I love being asked about my experiences including with DID), tries to treat me as a "normal person", will only really acknowledge my DID if I bring it up in conversation myself.

The ones that interact with me in a way I prefer - will acknowledge when I switch if they notice it, will make jokes with me about my bad memory and my behavior changes, asks questions out of curiosity and wanting to learn more, treats my DID as another aspect of myself similar to anything else about my identity (ie. Chinese-American, queer, Pokenerd, etc.)

The "I don't feel safe around you" type - denies the existence of DID or the ones who believe I'm faking or making things up. at least I've been lucky so far that even if they fall under this category they haven't fakeclaimed me to my face.

The "wait what the fuck" type - There have been 3 people at my workplace who have surprised me with their prior knowledge about DID. One told me they had just learned about it in class. One has a close friend with DID. One literally gave me the most detailed and nuanced explanation of what they knew about DID as briefly as possible with almost the exact same wording I'd use whenever I try to explain what DID is to anyone who isn't familiar with the disorder, and when I asked them how they knew they kinda sheepishly replied "I watched a lot of TV shows and looked into what DID is because of some of the shows I watched" (said shows being Mr. Robot, Moon Knight, and The Crowded Room). Usually also interact with my DID in a way that makes me feel comfortable with some additional nuance because of their own prior knowledge and experience.

I agree, there is no cure for DID that we know of. We cannot change the fundamental way our brain works. However, that's not the same as saying there's no way to get better with DID, or saying there's no treatment for DID, or there's no way to live a happy, fulfilling life with DID. It takes a lot of work, yes, but it's absolutely possible to learn how to live with both dissociation and trauma to the point they have very little if any negative impact on your life. That's what expanding your coping toolbox is for. And learning emotional regulation. And trauma processing. I may never live the same life as someone who never developed DID or has the same traumas as me, but that doesn't mean I'll be unhappy and miserable and fighting against my own brain every day of my life. Instead, I've learned to work with my brain and with my disorders, and in the process I've learned how to not just survive day to day but thrive. I'm excited to see what tomorrow brings me. I'm hopeful.

And I think that's really what my feelings on those phrases boils down to. They feel like they lack hope and end up making me feel like working on recovery isn't worth it. But I know that's wrong, for myself at least. It's definitely worth it to keep walking forward one step at a time. Where I am now and where I was before are two very different places, even if some days it's hard for me to see those differences and acknowledge that. And there's so much more for me to look forward to as well.

Anyways, after trying to juggle all of this and get a handle on my conflicting thoughts and feelings along with trying to also help my partners handle and figure out their own thoughts and feelings, I realized I just.... really need some time away from all of this. Thankfully, all my partners have been really accommodating and agreed that this was probably the healthiest thing for me to do, so now I'm trying to find ways to reconnect with myself and hopefully reintegrate.

And yeah, I'm genuinely glad I spoke up about needing alone time and processing time, because holy hell there's been so much I've just kinda shoved aside in the name of just trying to make it to the next day. I've repressed so much of my own hurt and pain throughout all of this, of being the partner caught in the middle of this breakup, in an effort to both support my partners but also to avoid feeling that pain myself. Because fuck, this sucks so much ass. I love them both so much... but they cannot be my priority. My own wellbeing has to come first, and I've neglected that a lot.

Reconnecting with myself has been really difficult. I haven't felt this headachey and nauseous since the early days of DID recovery, which highlighted just how bad things had gotten for me internally. Thankfully, though, it was much easier to re-establish communication, we just needed to dust off the cobwebs and reinforce those pathways and remember how to use our tools in the toolbox. We're still working through things, but it's going pretty smoothly all things considered. It's pretty reassuring to see how, despite regressing quite a bit, we're not starting from the same place as we had been before.

And our partner just. Looked at us. And was like, "I love you, but you do realize that you're not literally a set of individuals in a shared hivemind and that splitting doesn't mean you just disengage from the hivemind and keep all your memories of what it was like to be in that hivemind, right? You're experiencing DISSOCIATION. You're now DISSOCIATED from the shared skills and knowledge that your collective whole would otherwise have access to." And I was like. Oh. Right. Yeah, that makes sense.

Me-as-Ginger: yeah absolutely I drink teas all the time, what's up?

Coworker: can you tell if I over-steeped this?

Me: yeah can you hand me a cup of water first to wash down this vanilla latte I'm drinking?

Coworker: *hands me the water and tea*

Me: *rinses out the taste of coffee, give myself a second, then tasting the tea* yeah that's very definitely over-steeped

Coworker: cool thanks man

Me: no problem. *takes a sip of my latte* god I fucking hate this drink why did I even order it

Me:

Me:

I recently got a new partner, who's actually one of my best friends from college who kept in touch with me all these years. She's Chinese American like me and we bonded over having similar traumas with our families and with the world around us. Having them move in and live with us has really made me realize just how lonely I've been living away from the rest of my community; I've known, of course, having him around really made all of it sink in for me. I miss being able to regularly get boba, I miss greeting people in Mandarin and sharing good food, I miss walking around the Asian markets and looking at all the knicknacks on display.

And not just him, but I also started working again, closer to the community I grew up in. Where there are more fellow Asian Americans around me. Hell, my store manager himself is Korean American! And a couple other of my coworkers are also Asian. And we laugh and talk about our shared experiences, how we don't trust the dishwasher and wash dishes by hand, how we take off our shoes at home and have indoor slippers to get around, how our parents pressured us into STEM or business majors, what it's like living with immigrant parents... and even connecting with the other non-Asian POC has been so healing for me. It's just so good to be able to banter and talk about what it's like to have such rich communities separate from White Americanism and I didn't realize just how much not being a part of that has genuinely been hurting me these past few months.