Second Guessing

Can I get a restart? On life, or can I go back a few chapters? Does anyone remember those choose your own adventure books? Well I think quite a couple of the choices I made weren’t the wisest.

I suppose it’s something that comes along with the disorder right? Like a very shitty “buy one get one free”, in which you never bought the initial product but somehow got given it anyway, and the initial product was a pile of literal shit, and so now you have two piles of literal shit that you don’t have a receipt for and are unable to take back. . .

Things at current are tough, but as the saying goes, “you get that in the big jobs”… I’m unemployed.

Anyhow, do you ever have those moments where someone else questions your reality, and then in turn, you begin to question it yourself? That’s me as of late. Trying desperately to just keep pushing through it all, staring every morning at the lightbox on our windowsill that quotes ” remember why you started”, which in itself is quite funny really, because there is very little that I remember.

Memory is a funny thing. Is there ever any actual way of knowing that your memory is real if there is nothing that has encapsulated it, like a photograph, or a movie. Sorry if I caused you to question reality by me asking that. Self doubt comes in waves, mostly about the bad memories, but because of the absence of..

Grr, I’m losing my train of thought. Trying to listen to Spotify and blog, which honestly is something that I like doing. It has just been a big past few weeks I suppose, like 2020 is a whole retrograde of it’s own and it seems like it is planning to go out with a bang.

So let me try talk about my surroundings rather than any existential crisis. We are living in a new place.. honestly I don’t want to blog about that right now either. I’m frustrated, upset, disappointed, a lot of emotions, some somewhat contradicting one another. Too many thoughts to make sense of but I’m okay, trust me, I’m okay. Emotions are healthy, me sitting with them, identifying them, having them, is healthy, it’s good for me , whatever ‘good’ means nowadays.

I am beyond thankful for our therapist, the progress we have made with her in the past year, the understanding of our own mind and disorder… Welcome to the nonsense that is this blog post, my thoughts are everywhere and I’m not going to change this so it makes sense because honestly it doesn’t, things right now don’t make sense, have things ever made sense?

*sigh* Can I get a restart? On life, or can I go back a few chapters? Does anyone remember those choose your own adventure books? Well I think quite a couple of the choices I made weren’t the wisest. I have nothing comprehensible to add to this post I’m sorry. Therapy today was a lot, and has me a little bit lost for words yet full of a mixed bag of emotions.


Our Race, Our Lives, Our Experiences

Our voices, the voices of other dissociative BIPOC, will not be silenced, refuse to be overshadowed by the experience of just one white systems’ popularity. Our voices matter just as much as our livesI would like to take this opportunity to point out however, that we will try as hard as we can to be active online and put new recources on our website over the weekend because this is not a disorder just experienced by white folk. BIPOC deserve to be visible and our stories heard by the neurotypical white population. We dont want DDs comeback to be all that others looking up the disorder see. So many other stories and experiences are unseen due to popularity and algorithms.

Alters are not here to be your “favorite personality” in a system. Listen to the actual stories behind the voices, understand beyond the surface level why each part of a system may vastly vary in characteristics to anothers’.We are more than our disorder, yet the cause of it has literally shaped our entire state of being, a precursor to how we interpreted the rest of the world as it flowed around us.

Dissociative BIPOC are a minority within a minority. This doesnt mean white people have not struggled, just that it is important to see that race vastly alters how each group experiences the disorder. Much like how rich women experience sexism is vastly different to poor women.

Dissociative identity disorder is not a horror trope, it is also not to be glorified nor romanticised as mystical and ‘fun’. How we all function with the disorder is not something to be measured as a yes or no, as even for a ‘functional’ system, time and place can change this.

We are not your inspiration, but let us inspire you to be more compassionate, more open to understanding, more active in clearing space for the marginalised to thrive rather than simply exist.