I'm sick of the amnesia, constantly forgetting things, losing things. I'm sick of being treated like a dumb blonde because I forget my phone is in my hand and drop it so often that I have to buy a new one, over and over. People acting like I could do something about it if I tried. Everyone tries to give me advice, like "Write yourself notes." Well, I lose the notes, or don't remember to look at them. "Put your phone in your pocket." Well, I wash the pants because it simply does not occur to me to look in the pockets EVER (ha!) and there goes another $45 (thank the stars for pay-as-you-go phones). How do you make yourself remember something you can't remember? I don't blame people for not understanding, and my boyfriend just does it for me so sweetly (he's an angel), but it's frustrating some days.
For every year I live a past year dissipates into the mists of non-existence, a grey void swallowing time up. People asking me "Remember when..." and no, I don't. You'd think my family would get that by now. I don't remember. But it's such a societal need, memories. I'm an alien for living without them. It hurts to see the looks on their faces because it's like I wasn't even there. I'm removing myself from their memories.
Being here brings all that back. It's been a year now since I stopped talking to my mom, and I'm exhausted from the guilt of that decision, and fear of seeing her around town and all the emotions it would drag out of me yet again, and the worry that no one will be there when she starves herself to death or cries cause she doesn't understand why everyone has gone away. I like to act as if my mom doesn't exist, and when no mention of her or sighting of her happens for long enough I feel like I'm okay. But then one thing, finding a birthday card she sent me years ago in old papers I'm going through, can destroy me for days, weeks, cause me to become her and attempt to destroy my own life and those I love.
There's all these carers here that have chosen to stick it out even when it destroys their life, and it makes me feel selfish for leaving. How do you manage, dears? When your life is put on hold and you hate every moment of it? Am I weak for not doing that? Am I selfish? When I'm around her I'm sick. I start hearing voices again. I start hating myself even more (if that's possible). I start having hallucinations and delusions more often. I smoke, I eat too much. When does someone else's life take precedence over my own? If she does something to hurt herself and dies, is that my fault? Her life is a living hell. Would she be happier if she didn't have to do it anymore?
My Dad was. He was Asperger's, and he died last year, and it was the best thing that ever happened to him (in his own words before he died). "Sorry girls, I just can't do it anymore" he said when they offered to shock his heart one more time. And we, secretly, breathed a sigh of relief. And felt like monsters for it.
But as atrociously un-compassionate as he could be, he loved me. Mom can't, but she says she does and tries to make us believe it if we only obeyed Godd like she does. And now I feel utterly alone with her even though they had nothing to do with each other for years and I couldn't even talk about her without him railing about what a horrible person she is.
She's like this black hole on the other side of town, ever-present, that soaks up any joy of anyone that even thinks about her, no matter how far away they are or how long it's been since they've seen her face. I see how my little sister, who refuses to live in the same state as her, is constantly falling apart with Alice In Wonderland Syndrome and super anxiety, how she holds herself away from family that can help her and doesn't even realize it's self-harm just like she was taught. She can't have a normal life because of what mom did to her. My twin sister ran away to be a nun. My brother is in prison.
It makes me hate that alter that did that to us, The Fanatic/The Martyr, but not my mom. Why do some alters hurt the one that gives them physical life? What could be the purpose of that, when my First Mother, the real mom, is such a loving and caring person with so much to give? I thought that they appeared in order to help shelter someone that couldn't handle what was happening. But no one even knows anything about it. Most people barely even know what DID is.
At this point, if she somehow could see her mental illness and know what it's done to all of us, would it be too much? It is just too late for her to ever change? Could she someday be like you guys with DID, actually working on having good days?
I'm so proud of every one of you. You've accomplished the impossible even coming to terms with a situation that you had no control over. Especially Anonymous. Those tales of how he/she deals with the amnesia and the tricks employed are heroic. I want that for my mom.
Wow. I can't say these things to anyone. Releasing it is amazing. ❤️
