#did experience

[human-not-mental]

DID be like: spending days confusing past and present, realising memories of daily life from years ago replaced the recent, turning into Sherlock to uncover whether you switched and why.

[raccoon-go-bweh]

The internal conflicts of our DID system...

One of us alters Mona in the dining-playroom within the house-converted-daycare our headspace is built around:

She's banging her fists on the table, chanting tongue-in-cheek, a stupid-ass grin on her face, Simone is sitting parallel to her, towards the window outside, fronting but looking inward towards her and the alcove where she's sitting.

"Collar me! Collar me! Collar me!" chants Mona,

Simone, used to this shit, numbed-out of really any kink, touch-repulsed, barely keeping-up friendships, raises an eyebrow... Trying to put Mona's chants in the background of her hearing. It shakes her head in a firm-but-amused no.

Across the table from Mona, Repens sits... amused at the predicament. Fae grins at Mona, reaching out a hand to her.

"I'll kick Simone out, that old dumbass needs a break." I like keeping my own Kitten collared... but I get you need time out, as someone's pet." Repens states frank and smug to Mona.

Mona smiles pleased, "Thanks." shaking hands with Repens in the same tongue-in-cheek state, go get her.

Repens stands-up, with a groan, faer cane wobbling from faer shaky forearm.

"Eh, Simone, let me commandeer the fleshbag." Repens demands.

Simone rolls its eyes, "No."

"The fuck are you even fronting for?" Repens gets interrogative.

"Protection." Simone states tersely.

Repens sighs, "Goddammit Simone, you're in your own fuckin bed."

"Mona, go somewhere else. Adults are talking."

Mona folds, exiting this room in headspace meekly.

Simone continues as Repens watches Mona leave, looking hurt as she knows Mona is scared of Simone in these moments. "My bed where I've been held down and [redacted]. After visiting a place and kicking you out from fronting for it's semblance to..." it grumbles.

TW for SA and abuse mentions:

"My bed where I've been fronting through being cuddled and crying in someone's arms. Kicking me out from fronting today, breaking my autonomy because you think you need to protect me, from a motherfucking nursing home."

"Fronting through cuddling with someone who later sympathized with my sexual assaulter. You fucking never know when to trust someone, you're fucking naive." ... it pauses,

"Forth stepped-down in the psych ward after protecting me for a decade, put me through the abuse, and I saw that goddamn nursing home the same as that ward. God fucking forbid I protect you and Mona, better than Forth ever could."

Repens eyes Simone, its face dauntless, stern, irreverant. Repens with a facade of Simone's sternness, trying desperately not to show emotions they were split for the purpose of feeling for Simone.

"You are going to let me fucking front again. You are going to let me give Mona control, I will watch over her, but I will step back, and you will leave paying Mona or I any fucking attention." Repens states slowly, assertive. A few tears forming in faer eyes.

Simone sighs, stepping away from the window across from the table Repens and Mona were just at. "You're the boss." she states half-sarcastically, giving-into Repens for the moment. She walks off, towards the preschool room in the house our headspace is built around, Simone's fiddled with the old cameras, dead cell phones both in-headspace, and the daycare itself the place was built around when it was young. Some of our only coherent memories there.

Repens looks down at themself, "Mona! Come on back, you get the fleshbag. Hehe."

Mona trots back into the room, sitting in the rolly-chair, scooching up to the window to front.

The transition between fronters is always surreal, it's not showy, it can be a headache, especially if forced or extremely often. Now I'm sitting in the bed (Mona) there are these little fragments, faint like memories not-mine of the atmosphere Simone was fronting in. It fades as I get control. I slip my headphones back on, scroll to find a comfort ASMR audio of a domme calling me kitten, as I cuddle and nuzzle my blahaj shark in bed...

[anakinz]

Being a system (DID, OSDD, etc) is a terrifyingly lonely experience despite the fact that they’re the people in your head disorders (/j)

I can’t tell anyone. I can’t. So few people in our life know about what’s going on with us and even fewer understand. I want to tell our college friends so if we act off they know why. I can’t. I have to be afraid because if they know they could use my trauma against me. I’ve had that happen before.

My mom doesn’t get it. My sister doesn’t either, neither do my closest friends. My mom thinks it’s weird that I go by Anakin, but that’s me. That’s my name. That’s who I am. I’m not her original daughter, I replaced her like some kind of fucked up changeling.

The only person who gets it is our partner system, but they struggle as much as we do. We try to support each other, but it’s like two people trying to row upstream with broken paddles. We can only do so much on our own.

I have my headmates, but the lack of people outside my head that understand what I’m going through, the lack of people I can tell—it hits me hard sometimes

Endos do not interact this is about a traumagenic system whose system exists due to childhood trauma. This post is not for you.

Also don’t get me started on being a system with NPD lol you have no idea how fucking alienating that is

[human-not-mental]

DID be like: wondering how it was possible to overcome tough situations in the past and why smaller things feel impossible in the present. Noticing inner sneers stating all is possible when you dissociate and split in pieces and forget yourself a few times.

[human-not-mental]

DID be like: staying dazed for a few days after 30 minutes of memory flooding. Apparently, there were 9 years of your life missing.

[human-not-mental]

DID be like: wondering how many behavioral inconsistencies can be written off as random mood swings.

[human-not-mental]

DID be like: replying to “How old are you?” with “Let me figure it out, which year is it now?”

[human-not-mental]

DID be like: taking an elevator home, but as doors open getting confused with an unfamiliar corridor, random floor number and no idea where to find your apartment.