Imagine youâre 12 years old; youâve just begun puberty and are starting to be aware of the bigger world around you. Life hasnât been fantastic so far, in fact itâs been pretty chaotic, but consistently chaotic. Youâre used to not ever knowing what the fuck is going on, what the rules are, or whatâs happening.
You live in the world of religion, closed off from the rest of the âsecularâ world; you are taught about a 6,000 year old earth, about the evils of free thinking, and that you are inherently stupid and sinful.
A few weeks ago your world become even more chaotic with the introduction of your parents pending divorce. You find out (much later in life) that your father was abusing your mother, she found someone safe, and left. This is not the narrative you have been told.
Your mother is a liar, a slut, a villain. She is destroying your family and putting you at the mercy of a child molester (that someone safe might not really have been).
Your mother, the one who sang and danced with you to Minnie Mouse songs, the one who painstakingly stenciled tiny pink flowers onto your dresser and closet to make you feel pretty, and the one who lovingly sang you to sleep each night while rubbing your back is not who you think she is. She is Satan in disguise.
Your father, the one who shouted and screamed orders at you and your sisters, the one who would make you cry and then punish you for crying, and the one who taught you the only appropriate emotion to display is anger is the one who you must now trust and lean on. He has the truth.
So is it any surprise that a few weeks later, enjoying some apple pie at an orchard with your family, you have your first episode of dissociation? That as you turn away from your plate, your father will finish whatâs left, and youâre completely baffled as to what just happened. You question your mind, your memories, your reality. Did you ever actually have the pie in front of you? Did you just eat it really fast? Maybe the waitress came and cleared the plate when you werenât looking?
No one offers to help explain what happened. You asked no questions because you donât even know what questions to ask. So you just put the incident away in your mind, like the rest of the chaotic confusing thoughts and realities youâre forced to engage with.
Can you really trust your mind?