This blog is one of T-E-C’s main journals. Usually, we do the “talking to ourselves” thing on paper. For one, the different handwriting makes it easier to keep track of who said what. We want to show what this is like, though, so we’re going to try it online. Feel free to follow this train wreck. Oh yeah, HUGE ass trigger warning.
Saoirse: I’m hungry. Really hungry. We deleted our Doordash account last night, and all I’ve had to eat all evening are some beef jerky sticks and stroopwafels that Amazon delivered this afternoon. Yes, we have food in the house, but I have a thing against kitchens. I’m not even sure what the kitchen thing is about. I just know they are really uncomfortable for me. To be fair, I know others have problems with bathrooms, and I know why, so I suspect the kitchen phobia probably is rooted in a similar story. There is so much I still don’t know about why our system is the way it is. This summer will mark 29 years since we were first diagnosed with a dissociative disorder – I’d like to say we have it all figured out, but HAHAHAHA. No. At least, I don’t.
Sharon: Would you like me to nuke you something?
Saoirse: God, that is still freaky, watching another part of me come online like that and type. I worry that people will see us typing to each other and say, “fake! fake!” but come on folks, after decades as a known system, our communication is a shit tonne better than it was at first. So yeah, sometimes we can type to each other in almost real-time. Oh, and sometimes it takes weeks. /shrug
FW: OK, there’s a tuna casserole in the microwave; let’s stop talking to the readers and start talking about what’s really been bothering you, Saoirse.
Saoirse: … Where to fucking begin. OK, why not. The fucking flashback. I feel like I was raped on Wednesday, even though it happened decades ago. How is that NOT supposed to bother me? I haven’t been right since. I need to get this under control this weekend so I can actually work next week.
FW: There is no timetable on healing – I know, it’s an overused quote, but it’s true. What you experienced Wednesday was something that had been blocked out of your consciousness for years. I’m sorry, but expecting that to go away by Monday at 8:00 a.m. may not be realistic. I’m sure you could amnesia it away into la la land, but that isn’t how we heal; it’s just how we’ve survived. Processing trauma isn’t something just for the little ones to do. The fact that you haven’t automatically amnesia’d it away is a sign of growth, I’d say.
Saoirse: Oh fucking yay. Pass me the amnesia. 😛
FW: You can handle this.
Sharon: Guys, it’s way past bedtime, we’re supposed to go to bed at midnight, remember?
Saoirse: Seriously? “That’s nice dear, go to bed” is what you’ve got in response to all this? And the littles go to you for comfort? No wonder we’re fucked up.
Sharon: I’m just saying that if you really want to be right for work in 29 hours, staying up all night is probably not the best way to do it. It wasn’t meant to be comforting. One of our therapy goals is a normal sleep schedule, which we
Saoirse: Which we absolutely suck at, I know, I know.
Sharon: How’s this for comfort? You’re an asshole, but I still care. <3 😉
Saoirse: Ah, warm fuzzies. I’m terrified someone is actually going to read this drivel, by the way. I feel like I should be some kind of wise old DID elder that serves as an example of how to live with this disorder. Like I should give hope to all these baby systems out there, just discovering themselves.
FW: You can give them hope. Look what you’ve accomplished. You took us from being on disability to a successful career at some of the top tech companies in the world. And that’s when all you did was work! It’s been, what, four years since you took over as host outside of work life? Look at all you’ve had to deal with. We’re still kicking, aren’t we?
Sharon: Are we sure FW is writing that and not Saoirse? <giggle> No one is asking you to be Multiplicity & Me. They are just asking for you to be Saoirse.
Saoirse: Actually, they’re asking me to be Janet, but point taken. I’m so freaking tired of masking as Janet all the time, by the way. It feels like online is the only place I get to really be me. And I guess other than therapy, it is. I’m still tempted to legally change our name and be done with this charade. Yeah, I’ve built this great career, but no one even knows my real name. That gets to me too.
Sharon: Yes, but would you prefer to be addressed as Mr. or Mrs. Electric Circus? 😉
Saoirse: Har har.
FW: You know, if you want, I could take you on an inner journey to put that flashback to rest. I’m just not sure if it will stay in your awareness afterward.
Saoirse: Oh, I’d be fine with it not being. Sign me up coach.
FW: Very well.
Sharon: By the way guys, I think we missed our meds yesterday. I filled our pill box, please check that we take this morning’s meds if you are the one to get up.
LCA: can I go? on the journey thing? i had a bad memory to.
FW: I’ll take you on your very own. OK, lots of inner workings to do; time to stop journaling.
Saoirse: And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a peek into what it’s like to be, well, us. Goodnight. Given how FW works, I probably have some time in the dark listening to shamanic drumming in the near future.