We found a show this weekend on Disney. It’s a Superhero show called Moon Knight. The Superhero has DID.  The overall series is just okay but we do like the DID representation quite a bit.

There are only two guys, Marc and Steven and a third alluded to in the last episode. The first part mostly just shows the struggles. The internal conflict, civil wars and power struggles over who gets the front, but the show doesn’t make light of it or make fun of it.  In real life, that’s all that outside people see. Our chaos drags other people into our internal world without a compass. Our calm/safe world pushes people out unless you pass an extensive test showing y’all won’t hurt us more and again. Because of that, I think that people believe that there is only chaos inside, a cacophony instead of a chorus.  It can be but it’s a minority of the time. We have infighting, that’s when other people notice that something is off. Trying to kill another person or yourself, inside, with only one body, makes for difficult situations, as does the lost time but even that is usually because of the expectations in the outside world. 

The rest of the time, it’s calm, not quiet though. We can’t imagine what quiet would feel like. It seems sad. Lonely. We feel bad for singletons. We’ve only been alone for a little while y’all have been alone everyday of your lives. 

What do you do when you're driving down the street and a wave grief fills you up so much it leaks out of your eyes?  We can feel that together and spread it out thinner so it doesn’t ache so much. We can negotiate who can hold the pain easier. 

When it feels like someone is standing on your stomach and you can’t breathe out and your chest is on fire and you can’t breathe in and everything goes fuzzy, with no voice, just helplessness, where do you go?

Singletons are just left holding a weight that is too heavy to hold all by yourselves.  

The goal has always seemed to be a way to find our way back to being one. That does seem logical, efficient and maybe easier to navigate but it also feels empty. 

Dissociative Identity Order

 

Dissociative Identity Disorder is misnamed. It is anything but a disorder. There’s a lot more order than disorder. We found a show this weekend on Disney. It’s a Superhero show called Moon Knight. The Superhero has DID. The overall series is pretty good, and we like the DID representation quite a bit.

There are only two guys, Marc and Steven, and a third is alluded to. The first part mostly shows the struggles. There are internal conflicts, civil wars, and power struggles over who gets the front, but the show doesn’t make light of it or make fun of it.  

 

In real life, that’s all that outside people see. Our chaos drags other people into our internal world without a compass. Our calm/safe world pushes people out unless you pass an extensive test showing y’all won’t hurt us more and again. Because of that, people believe there is only chaos inside, a cacophony instead of a chorus.  It can be, but it’s only a minority of the time. We have infighting when other people notice something is off. Trying to kill another person or yourself inside, with only one body, makes for difficult situations, as does the lost time, but even that is usually because of the expectations in the outside world. 

What does dissociation feel like?

A common analogy is that dissociating is like daydreaming and passing your exit on the highway. We can work with that because it does help a singleton internalize the experience, and it's not wrong. Highway hypnosis, also known as "white line fever,” is a trance-like state that can occur when driving long distances on a highway, especially on a familiar route. A partial or complete loss of awareness, reduced brain activity, and a lack of focus on surroundings characterize it. Drivers may experience a distorted sense of time and have difficulty recalling the details of the drive—highway hypnosis. We believe that this is what makes dissociating individuals highly suggestible. We have a nasty case of “White Line Fever.” Recently, we discovered that this has become a point of contention regarding the validity of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), and there is some merit to that debate. This technique was used intentionally on us, implanting a "wake-up" word in some of our minds. Therefore, we needed to find a counselor we could trust not to use those words to their benefit.

How it feels to come to the front:

 

Coming to the front feels like that optical illusion that you see when your car isn’t moving and the next car next to gets a red light.  You catch the moving car out of the corner of your eyes and feel like the car is moving backwards.  It can even feel bright outside and my eyes have to get used to light when I get pulled to the front. It can be disconcerting.  It takes a minute to be able to respond if we are switchie.  Another act of patience, she has to tell us over and over if the routine is going to change.  That fuzzy in between can be a problem as well as depending on someone passing on the memo to all of us. Everyday she holds our head, asks them to look her in the eye and listen

     The Struggle: Time

Coping Skill: We keep the television turned on in the background, creating a familiar atmosphere, even though we don't actively watch it for extended periods. We gravitate towards a TV series that has at least three seasons, enjoying the comfort of its repetitive nature. The episodes, typically ranging from thirty minutes to one hour, serve as a time marker for us throughout the day. 

As we go about our activities, we can track the passage of time based on the show's familiar themes and settings. We try to remember the last detail of which episode we saw last, allowing us to piece together how many episodes we have played since we last engaged with them more closely. In this way, the series' background noise becomes a subtle companion, providing a sense of continuity and ease in our environment.  

The comforting hum of the television serves as a lifeline, anchoring us in the ebb and flow of time. Sleep can often leave us disoriented, as if we've drifted into an unfamiliar realm, where nightmares blur the lines between reality and dream. Recognizing the distinction between slumber's horrific embrace and wakefulness is crucial for our daily functioning.  Nightmares give us the switchies, and some mornings can greet us with the unfamiliarity of a new day, shrouded in the uncertainty of how many sunrises have passed since the last one we saw. The one who closes our eyes at night may not always be the same one who opens them again. The television also blankets our environment in a soothing layer of sound, muffling the scattered chatter in our heads that can otherwise overwhelm us. Noise on the outside adds a comforting presence, integrating with the ambient stimulation to create a sense of stability. In times of uncertainty, the flickering images on the screen act as a grounding force in our lives.

This coping method has a downside. We often watch an entire series multiple times, as it can take us several viewings to truly grasp the story's nuances. My wife possesses the patience of Job, effortlessly engaging with the material and explaining those nuances for us. With a playful smirk, she’ll exclaim, “I’ve watched this scene 24 times now.” I quickly remind her that it’s an entirely fresh experience for me. She masterfully transforms the occasional frustrations into light-hearted banter, allowing us to share in a laughter-filled respite rather than dwelling on our challenge. 

Movies and Charades

 

Everyone needs a champion. 

“We accept the love we think deserve” Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Somewhere we read that we choose partners who are like an abusive parent. That's messed up. It's a matter of not having anything to contrast it with. It's interesting how much constant suffering we've gotten used to. We behave as if it does not happen after a while. It's like, does a fish know it's swimming in the water? It knows that they are living somewhere that not all animals live. The fish has spent its whole life there; a different existence is unknown. It's easier to chase recurring life experiences, even if they are abusive, instead of facing the fear of the unknown. Even when other alternatives have tons of logical evidence that they are better, there is comfort in the familiar. 'It’s better to dance with the devil you know than the devil you don't.’

We have had to learn about healthy relationships and understand others' feelings. Our hindsight is not 20/20; we don’t have one, so our foresight is a hot mess. The first twenty years of our adult life were a series of bad choices, one right after another. The three kids were the best things that came from that. We can’t demonize any other people we had relationships with. We are hard to live with. 

When we told YJ we loved her, but we had Dissociative Disorder, she understood what we had shared with her and held that space, safe for us from that day forward. She has taken the time to recognize and acknowledge us with dignity and respect. YJ doesn't make us feel like we are hard to live with; she genuinely loves us. She has developed a relationship with each of us and manages to meet us where we are.  

Cary- Yj and I will be watching something, and a little decides he needs to be in front and he’ll giggle at something PG. She’ll pause it and ask which of them is out by saying, “Are you old enough to be watching this?”  Usually he is just checking in and wanting to tell her something or ask a question.  Sometimes they get to watch and sometimes she changes the show. but always with kindness and playfulness.  She is more patient with the littles than I will ever be.  I get reminded frequently that the goal of our family therapy requires that I play nice as well.  I have never liked to face hard truths. 

Josh- We can follow a scene but miss the movieline altogether, which as we write that sentence see the irony. This is also how we experience life.  It's a long series of scenes but the acts get fuzzy and the plot of the play was lost right after the curtains parted. We were talking to her the other day about some movie.  We started waving and swinging our arms about describing some horse riding scene.  Then we spoke out in blurts,

Us: “You know the one. The one with the horses and the zombies, not the walkie kind of zombie but the mushroom kind of zombie,”

Her:  “Pedro Pascal?”

Us: “YES! That’s it. Is he the actor in this movie?”

Her: “No Sweetheart.”

Struggles in the Singleton World

Relationships are hard

“Well, one of you knew,” our wife will tell us when we forget something is going to happen. The blank look on our faces tells her we don't know.  We have no clue. We can never argue that she's wrong, but we do so anyway. 

 

Her: Did you pay the rent yet?”  

Us: No, it’s not due until the 15th

Her: Today is now the 17th:

Us: ………..

 

Us: where did you go?

Her: been here all day.

Us: Why?

Her: it’s Saturday 

Us: insert puzzled look 

Her: I don’t work on Saturdays

Us: for how long?

Her: a year 

Us:…….

 

 My wife often looks at me with a playful curiosity as she asks if she can confirm my identity. It's not that she's uncertain; instead, she wants to ensure she knows what kind of kiss will suit the moment.

Challenge: Relationships: 

When we decide whether or not to tell a person we are here, we self-check before making any personal disclosure. Why are we saying it, and to whom is the information beneficial? Know your audience and consider your timing. 

We waited until the worst possible time and in the worst place to tell her. Yes, but  It wasn’t planned; we were thinking about taking things to the next level, and poof, just like that, we blurt out that we have a Dissociative Disorder that’s a wee bit on the severe side, but we think we love you.  There was just enough silence to make us wonder what we had done. Is she silent because she doesn’t know what dissociation is, or is she silent because she does know what dissociation is?  She knew exactly what we were telling her. 

We can only maintain a seamless façade for a limited time. (Yj just told us that it was cute that we think that we ever pull off a ‘seamless facade) Being in front demands immense emotional and mental energy to project an image that feels authentic yet may not reflect our true selves. This endeavor becomes even more complicated because we often struggle to remember what the other guys have said in response to a question. We don’t tell lies with the intent to deceive; instead, we tend to confabulate, weaving together bits and pieces of information to fill in the gaps when faced with queries about topics we aren't fully informed on. It's fascinating how many individuals will continue to elaborate on a subject when you merely nod and interject with a casual "um" or "hmmm," allowing the conversation to flow, even when the depth of their knowledge might be shallow. 

 

Home is where we can be ourselves, a sanctuary that allows us to have the ‘switchies.’  We can blend our guys to meet the outside needs at the time. It’s only fair to provide a clear picture of what she is signing up for. 

 

Little Troubles at Work

Director of Nursing: Ring Ring

Us: Hello

DON: Where were you last night?

Us: Sleeping

DON: You were on the schedule last night; it's a no-call no-show. 

Us: Nope, it’s our three-day weekend, and don't have don't have to be back until Monday night

DON: It’s Tuesday morning 

Us:……..

Working presents its own set of arduous trials. Over the past three years, we’ve faced the unsettling reality of intermittent unemployment. The pressure of not securing a steady income weighs heavily on our minds; 

a couple of us are nurses, and they make all of the money. Our handwriting became a concern when one of the boys needed to help chart what he thought was important.  This often leads to misunderstandings—an employer has even accused us of coming to work impaired. Looking at it, we can see that it's a commentary between paragraphs of our notes that might as well have been written with a crayon.

Cooking is hard 

Yj- why is there a lot on the landing?

Us-We didn't set the timer

Yj- I can smell that but the pot?

Us- it was on fire and stinky so we set it outside on the landing.

Yj- Its on the way of the stair y'all need move it.

Us-We tried and we can't move it

Yj- insert puzzle face

Us- the hot pot melted the fake green plastic grass and now its stuck and we can't pull it off

Yj-………..

Lost

Zoom has truly transformed our therapeutic journey, making it easier to navigate our emotional landscapes and express ourselves without the distractions of the outside world. The fear of being unable to find our way home—a very real concern—was something we had to face before you virtual therapy became available. In the early days with Jenny, we often found ourselves parked in the Chuck E. Cheese lot outside her office, lingering after our sessions. It wasn't merely a feeling of being lost in thought; it was the profound disorientation of feeling truly lost—overwhelmed by the experience.

This issue was even more pronounced in an era before GPS and cell phones, when we felt utterly stranded. We often lost track of where we parked our car, which added to our vulnerability. Back then, borrowing a phone from a random business to report a missing car was mortifying. Even if we wished to remain incognito, the old landlines offered no privacy, ensuring our predicament wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Our coping mechanism for this chaos has been to use GPS on our phones. This tool helps our family track our locations, which, while unfortunate, is a necessary measure. The anxiety is only heightened by the fear of misplacing the entire vehicle instead of just the keys.

We have a little one who can pull the car over if we get sick. He’ll take a picture of where we are and send it to our family, so they can find us. It’s like geocaching for Toddy!

 

Lost Things

Problem: Getting Lost:

Officer: So you're reporting that your 

The truck was stolen

Us: possibly 

Officer: Possibly what

Us: stolen

Officer: Stolen or what?

Us: I may have lost it. 

Officer: Have you looked for it? 

Us:…………

Zoom has revolutionized our therapeutic journey. It simplifies the navigation of our emotional landscapes, allowing us to express ourselves without the burdens of the outside world. The anxiety of not being able to find our way home—a very real fear—was something we had to contend with before the advent of virtual therapy. In the initial days with Jenny, we often found ourselves parked in the Chuck E. Cheese lot outside her office, lingering after our sessions. It’s not a sense of being lost in one’s thoughts—the profound disorientation of being truly lost, the overwhelming lost. 

This dilemma was even more pronounced in an era before GPS and cell phones. It left us feeling utterly stranded, losing track of where we put our vehicle, which also happened, which meant we were left vulnerable. Back then, asking to borrow a phone in a random business to report the missing car was an absolute embarrassment. Even if we wished to remain incognito, the old landlines offered no camouflage, ensuring our plight would not go unheard

Our coping mechanism for this disarray has become utilizing GPS on our phones. This tool aids our family in tracking our whereabouts so they can find us, which is an unfortunate necessity.  The experience is only exacerbated by the fear of misplacing the entire vehicle rather than just the keys. The thought of needing to call the police to report my truck missing was mortifying.

Then there are the sabotage losts.  Especially young Todd, ignoring him is not in our best interest.   He has hidden our keys, work backpack, glasses, and underpants, and this is not an exhaustive list. He jammed a quarter in our car's shift so we couldn't put it in the park. He can front anytime he wants. He barges and blurts. I frown; he says I'm a cranky old man.  Insert eye roll; technically, he is Josh’s, but he lets him do anything he wants.  It's like internal parent splitting.

 

Upside: We can hide our own Easter eggs. 

The Small losts:

There are the endless small losts. We can't expect to be the same person who sets something important down.  It goes into the same abyss that sucks in just one sock every time.

Change is Hard

 

 It takes a minute to be able to respond if we are switchie.  Another act of patience, she has to tell us over and over if the routine will change.  That fuzzy in between can be a problem, as well as depending on someone passing on the memo to all of us. She holds our head daily, asks them to look her in the eye, and listen.

Yj: “I’m going to go to Portland in 10 days.  Long pause: What did I say?”

Little 1: “You're going to Portland.”

Her:” For how long?”

Little 1: ……….

Her:  10 days.

Yj: “Look at me, I will go to Portland in 9 days. What did I say?

Little 2: “ You’ll be gone for ten days.”

Yj: “Where am I going?

Little 2: ………

Yj: “Look at me, I will go to Portland in 8 days. What did I say?”

Big 1: 

Rinse and repeat 10 times.

Little 4: Frantic text 3 hours after she leaves,

“Where are you!”

Tending to the Outside Kids

Middle School Director: Are you coming to pick up your children today?

Us: Yes. It's my week to drive a carpool

Sharon: I know; they are all still here.

Us: Shit! Is it an early out day?

Sharon: it's 4:00

Us……..

Our family is a quilt made from all thesft over svaps of fabrics and our kids have three fathers. Cary is good with the Tiny Littles, effortlessly engaging them in playful antics, while Josh possesses a remarkable knack for connecting with the middle tweens. Then there's Anthony, who guided them through the tumultuous teenage years. Navigating this dynamic, there comes a crucial time when our children need clarity; Toddy took charge of the day, his personality shining as he has a carefree spirit, often wanting to hang out with the outside kids. As the day unfolded, our daughter turned to my wife with a curious look and asked why her father sometimes seemed like a 6-year-old boy. This question was a perfect opportunity for an essential conversation with all the kids, who, on some level, already sensed the complexities.  

We decided to share more with our external children, offering them information about our unique circumstances. We kept some details private, recognizing that certain things may not serve anyone’s best interests.

Once we broached the topic, they took only three seconds to process the information. They had a few questions, and surprisingly, it was much easier than we anticipated. We explained the basics of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), though they remain blissfully unaware of the more intricate details of our past. In their eyes, it was akin to mentioning I have green eyes—just another fact about their dad that didn't require further contemplation.

“Good for you, Father,” our sons said with a bit of sarcasm.

“The microwave broke, and my friends will arrive in half an hour. I told them you’d get pizza, so if you could set aside your feelings for the moment, that would be great.” 

Teenagers, in their self-absorbed phase, often make conversations feel straightforward. And we just bought that microwave.

A little Sabotage

Then there are the sabotage losts.  Especially young Todd, ignoring him is not in our best interest.   He has hidden our keys, work backpack, glasses, and underpants, and this is not an exhaustive list. He jammed a quarter in our car shift so that we couldn't put it in the park. He can front anytime he wants. He barges and blurts. I frown; he says I'm a cranky old man.  Insert eye roll; technically, he is Josh’s, but he lets him do anything he wants.  It's like internal parent splitting.

What is your job?

To Not Make Matters Worse

Yj: Look at me, what is your job today?

Us: it's our job to do nothing

Her: You all will not reply to the landlords text messages.. What is your job today?

Us: It's our job to do nothing

Her: Make sure everybody inside knows what your job is, Toddy?

Toddy: My job is to not make things worse