On Saturday, it’s the twelfth anniversary of the mental crisis that landed us in a psych hospital. As those who’ve checked my “About” page or those who’ve known me long-term know, this hospital stay took 9 1/2 years. Then we were kicked out for allegedly being too dependent.
We fought a long battle for the right care. In a way, it started that very day, November 2, 2007, or even before. It hopefully ended when we moved into the long-term care facility we now live in on September 23, 2019.
Most of us are relatively happy here. Content, at least. At least one of us though isn’t. Jane is still telling us to get a real life. To give ourselves a good kick in the behind and go to university, find a jjob and above all, live fully independently. She doesn’t even want us living with our husband, as we could be manipulating him into getting us care.
Today, I’ve been thinking. I recently joined a Facebook group for DID that subscribes to the philosophy of managing dissociative symptoms by thinking of each of your system members as their own individual. We need to work for the betterment of the entire system.
In this light, I’ve been thinking of how to validate Jane. She’s been saying “No” to our every attempt at getting care ever since, well, since she emerged in 2001. I wonder whether she’s “just” an introject, as our parents hold similar views to hers, or there’s more to it.
I remember once, when we’d only been diagnosed with DID for a few months or maybe a year, so in 2011 I think, our then therapist saying that Jane represents our healthy side. Another therapist called her a punitive parent. That never sat well with any of us, but neither does seeing her as the healthy adult. After all, why then does she minimize our every struggle? Isn’t vulnerability part of being an adult, too?
I’m wondering whether we’re doing more than just her a disservice by being in the care facility. I don’t mean we need to leave, but I realize most of us, including me, would like a more enriching life. Many of us feel bored at day activities.
Of course, our recent (and not-so-recent) attempts at doing something to enrich our life, have usually failed. I mean, we could be committing to a class at college, but that hasn’t been a success in ten years. I’ve been looking at writing courses, but they are pretty expensive and I don’t know they’ll actually make me a better writer. I want to go to the gym or horseback riding again, but don’t know whether I could commit to that on a weekly basis considering even just the limits of the ParaTransit system here. Ugh, I’m not sure how to get out of the boringness of lying in the sensory room for over an hour each day, walking for maybe half an hour, and sitting on our ass the rest of the time. I don’t know whether that’s an entirely accurate picture of our day, but it feels like it is.
Clarissa