Did I go through enough to cause DID?
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Do you really want to know?” says a concerned voice, from the back of my mind.
“Yes. Why shouldn’t I know?” comes a reply, not from me.
“I guess not,” I finally say. I shouldn’t have bothered asking this question.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“No,” says a small voice to me.
“Why do you think that?” I ask it.
There’s no answer. Only crying.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Yes,” states someone matter-of-factly.
“How do you know for sure?”
“You’re literally talking to an alter, right now,” they point out.
Ugh! How is that supposed to answer my question?!
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Fuck off with these questions! It’s ridiculous!” growls something from deep inside, bubbling with rage. “Do you think this is fun? Do you think this is a game?”
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Why does it matter?” replies someone in the back.
“I don’t know,” I confess.
“Does it matter to someone else?”
They already know the answer. They’re sitting in the back of my thoughts with it.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Do you feel like you’re not hurt enough?” Someone asks this.
The background is wracked with voices mirroring my own. Some shout yes, others shout no. I don’t know if they’re my own thoughts or something else.
“I’m not sure,” I finally say, confused.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Why are you asking this so much?” a voice asks.
“Well, sometimes I just wonder if I was hurt enough to have DID,” I explain.
“You have it. Doesn’t that already answer your question?”
“No,” I reply, a bit angrily. “I don’t feel like what I went through justifies me having DID like this. Wouldn’t my childhood have to be extremely unnatural? I mean, sure, I was suffering, but was that enough?”
“You do realize that suffering isn’t natural, right?”
I don’t know how to reply.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
A child is asking me this. I hold them close. I cradle them in my arms and rock them.
“I wish you didn’t,” I sigh.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“You went through too much,” says someone else.
“Yeah. You did, too,” is all I can utter.
Acceptance fills out the space between us.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
A sad voice whispers through the frosty darkness. “I don’t wish anymore pain onto you.”
“I don’t wish it onto you, either,” a voice whispers back.
I touch their hands. We are connected.
Did I go through enough to cause DID?
“Yes, and the proof is in our existence. Our existence is proof of our survival,” a familiar voice answers me.
“You did. I did. All of us survived.“
I feel the others shift inside. Warmth blossoms in my chest.
The system that is me, suffered. The system that is me, also survived.
Maybe knowing this is more important.
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