Category Archives: DID

Scary But Amazing


(Sorry for the novel of a post.)

So much has happened in just a few days, I can hardly believe it. In my last post I said that I would stay put in our apartment and C would move out. The more I thought about that, the more I knew I do not want to stay in podunk Newberg. There is nothing here for me now, it’s isolating here, and I’m ready to move on from this place where so many horrific things happened to me. It would be hard to create new experiences for myself and meet new people here. So I bit the bullet and sent an email. My older son has a room in a house with about four other people. I thought to myself, I’m familiar with these people, I could probably keep Abi (my companion cat), I know I’d feel comfortable cooking in the kitchen, it’s in a great location…why not just see if they have an available room. I knew that most likely there wouldn’t be room for me.

But there was! Someone had just moved out a few days earlier and the woman was really dreading having to make a Craigslist ad and weed through people who asked about the room. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go just anywhere if I was going to move away from Newberg, that I’d somehow have to be comfortable with the situation, and especially that I could keep Abi with me. Check to all, and then some. The idea of losing so much living space and giving up quite a few (unimportant) belongings can be hard at times but this upcoming living situation really helps make up for that. Added bonus is the fact that it will be easier for me to help my son as we continue to navigate life for him with as a young adult with autism.

On Monday C and I knew it was time to let go of our relationship. On Tuesday afternoon he talked to his brother and parents about the situation. On Tuesday night I got up the nerve to email K about the possibility of a room in her home. A couple hours later she said there is a room. On Wednesday I went to see her and take a look at the room. On Thursday I turned in the application at the leasing office and paid for my background check. There’s a loophole that means they don’t have to verify my income and are only making sure I’m not a criminal or a sucky renter, so there’s pretty much no way I’ll be turned down. I’m hoping to move into my new home on the 11th. It’s all been a whirlwind but it’s also continued to just fall into place. What were the odds that a room would be open at this home where I already knew I would feel safe and comfortable?!

Now C and I are working to get our collective Social Security dealt with so we each have our own money. We have an appointment with SS on Friday so C can be his own payee. We’re hoping that my rental agreement will be signed by Thursday afternoon so we can get the separate moneys stuff in the works while we’re at the SS appointment.

And now on to the emotional end of all of this. It’s been a freaking roller coaster. I’m sure this wasn’t helped by the fact that until yesterday I was premenstrual–and PMS has really been kicking my butt lately. Even though this is a great, amazing change for me, it is crazy stressful and scary. I can be excited as hell one minute, then completely doubting myself the next. Between the stress of change, being afraid that somehow this move won’t work out, and losing some great things and people in this whole process, there have been times when I’ve cried nonstop for an hour or two. Or five, as the case was two nights ago. Thankfully the past two days have been much better. Very little anxiety and no crying!

Even though this change and move will lead to some amazing new opportunities in my life, it also scares me so much at times. I just keep telling myself that I’m finally at a place in my life where I can handle all of this. The changes, the losses, all of it. It hurts to be losing C’s family. Even though we don’t see eye to eye on most things, they are great people and I already miss them.

One thing that’s been hard is the DID aspect of it all and how some people are reacting to that. I can explain until I’m blue in the face that Gloria was in front and the one who married C eight years ago and that her main job was done within a couple years of the wedding. That I was in front before she took over for a while and now I’m in front again for good as far as I know. That Gloria fully acknowledges her main job is done, although she is still part of our daily life in small ways. But I know I can’t expect people to understand this. How could they?! Even I don’t get it all. Try explaining to fundamentalist Christians who think they can pray away the DID–and to other people–that you’re literally not the same person they first met! I just have to roll with it and accept that most people won’t get this stuff. It is what it is, no matter what they think of it.

And so things are moving forward. I need to start packing the items that will move with me in about a week. One of my best friends is here for the weekend and tomorrow I’ll have her company to ease the stress of packing. My sons will be here for a night or two after the weekend for one last hurrah at Mom’s house. I told C I’ll need a few weeks to go through the things I don’t take with me and get them boxed up either for donating or taking with me and/or storing somewhere. He’s being very gracious about things like that. I helped C figure out what his budget will be like and wrote that all out. Lots of things need to be done before the move and still more after it. It can feel daunting, especially since I’m the one who’s having to take care of pretty much all of it. I made the bus trek into Tigard two days in a row to get room rental stuff going. I’ll have to go once or twice after the weekend. On Friday C and I have the Social Security appointment. (At least it’s an appointment and we aren’t walking in there, picking a number, and waiting for god knows how long for our turn.) Details. Busy-ness. Stress. Physical and emotional exhaustion. Crappy appetite that’s already causing weight loss. But no crying in two days. And no stress migraines sending me to bed with nausea that keeps me from even moving my head.

I can do this. I am doing it. This is scary but amazing.

Grief Can Feel Endless


It’s four-fucking-thirty in the morning. I haven’t been able to sleep yet. I just ate an entire sleeve of Ritz crackers with cream cheese on them. Yes. An entire sleeve. And from the moment I grabbed them until the moment I was done eating them I kept thinking “Ask me if I fucking care how much I pay for all of this gluten. Nope, I don’t.” (I know I’ll think differently in 12 hours or so when my body is aching and my legs hurt so much I can’t rest my laptop on them and I’m so fatigued I can barely think.)

I’ve been a mess tonight. I know being premenstrual is making it worse. But there’s so damn much pain and grief about not having another child. When will it go away? So much pain. I don’t know what to do with it except cry and feel horrible. I feel like I may have taken a small step forward with it all tonight though. It’s been far too easy to know there is a tiny chance of getting pregnant and let my mind go there. Miniscule chance. But hey, 1 in 10,000 (or worse) is still a chance. I let myself go there this cycle and had sex at a fertile time. Except the chance of a tubal failure AND conceiving at almost 46 years old is that 1 in 10,000 (or worse) chance and is just not going to happen. I was able to let myself concede that even without a tubal, getting pregnant at nearly 46 is so unlikely. Put the two together and there’s just no chance. That tiny chance isn’t a chance. I can go around and around though. Maybe the tubal has failed. And my cycles are still regular and I know from earlier this year that I’m still ovulating. And and and. But the age thing is starting to shake some sense into me. Okay, the age thing practically brings me to my knees with sadness and pain. But just the thought about my age making it virtually impossible is a step forward.

Twenty fucking years. Over twenty years of wanting another child and I’m still in this position. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why I didn’t get to have another child. I don’t understand why I didn’t get to raise a child. I don’t understand why I didn’t get to raise the children I have. I just don’t understand why I never got another chance. What the hell did I do so wrong? My mind can really go to that question but I do my best not to get sucked up in the thoughts that come in answer. And the rantings of Robert, who will jump on that and let me know well and truly that it’s because I’m a worthless piece of shit who doesn’t deserve it. He jumped in for a brief moment tonight and I was able to keep him from going on. My pain pushed him away. At least there’s a good reason for bowling-over emotional pain.

When I’m suffering like this, especially when PMS is playing into it, it’s so easy to think about suicide. I wouldn’t do it. I could never do that to people, especially my sons. Then I can find myself pleading to the universe to not wake up in the morning. Could I please just not wake up once I finally fall asleep? But I can’t wish for that either because (husband) Cory’s parents need contact information for people who would need to know, and information about our debit cards and bills. You know, logistics. Not that pleading in my bed will make me not wake up in the morning, of course. If that worked, I’d be pregnant.

But I’m not and never will be and have spent more than 20 years wishing and hoping (and Gloria praying) for something that will never be. And it hurts. It really cuts deep. And I don’t know how to deal with it. I know I need to find some books about grief and maybe even a group if something suitable is available. I’m working in that direction. But for now I’ll post this and lay down again and hope that I can finally sleep. I took Ativan several hours ago. Vicodin about an hour ago because fibro pain was part of why I couldn’t settle down to sleep. I’m so damn tired. I just need to sleep. I want to sleep. I don’t want to be awake and feel this emotional pain. I just need to sleep.


{Obligatory Post Title Here}


I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to blog. Between DID and fibro and all the crap that comes with those things, I just can’t get myself here writing. And I feel a bit bad about this at times because I know someone who feels crappier than I do every single day and manages to write. But I’ve figured something out. I’m not a “journaling” blogger. I enjoy reading those types of blogs, I just have a hard time writing that way. So then I can’t find the physical or emotional energy to write at all. A lot of the time I can barely think clearly enough, barely get my body to move to do what I consider basics, and blogging is a l-o-n-g way down my list. So this may be the last post. I know I wrote a Part I post a while back and I want to give you Part II but I don’t know if it will happen.

In case I don’t write again, I (once again) wish you all peace. Thanks for reading!


A Letter of Closure


Dear S,

I’m glad you called the other night; it was good to hear how you’re doing and what you’ve been up to. Even though I sure miss you at times I’ve felt that the separation between us has been a good thing. Talking to you on Friday made me realize just how true this is. Sometimes I wish very much for parts of the past, including parts of our past. The thing is, they are just that—the past. We still have some things in common—our past, our physical and mental health issues, being on the queer spectrum. But they don’t feel enough to sustain a strong friendship. I think our commonalities could hold a friendship together better if it weren’t for the vast differences in our lives. We live and see life in rather different ways. I’m not saying at all that my life is better or that I’m better, just that there is a lot of disparity between us. We are at quite different places in life and have been for a while.

It’s also a serious issue that you don’t believe I’m multiple. You saying you can’t believe this because you’ve never seen any of my “episodes” would be like me saying I don’t believe you hear voices all the time because I can’t see it. Multiplicity is why I’m alive today and the fact is that you’ve seen us switch many, many times. Most switching is not dramatic like movies and TV make it out to be and is usually barely noticeable, if at all.

It’s not easy for me to write this and I imagine it’s probably not what you want to read, but I feel the time has come for us to truly leave this relationship behind. I think it’s the healthiest thing for both of us. I don’t hate or dislike you, it’s just time. (And I apologize for setting up a day to get together for coffee when I knew it wasn’t the best idea.)

I will always want the very best for you, S. I’m sure that probably sounds pretty trite right now but it’s the truth. I want you to not just be surviving but thriving. I want you to be happy. I want you to enjoy your life and feel that it’s fulfilling. Thank you for being a wonderful part of my life for a good many years. We’ve known each other for more than two and a half decades and have gone through a lot together and I’m glad we have that. I know I’m a better person because of it.


Moving Forward, Letting Go


In my Resignation and Addendum posts I mentioned that I heard from S (old friend and previous partner) the other night and that I was open to a cautious friendship with her but nothing more. As the day went on after writing Addendum, I realized why I woke up feeling so low that morning. It was frustration and anger with S about how she ended up calling me again and also sadness about knowing that I would be letting go of her completely.

Yes, completely. And knowing I will finally have closure with her (from her?) has lifted a weight off me that I didn’t realize existed.

I was quite surprised when she called two nights ago. If the caller ID had shown up in her name instead of her daughter’s I would not have even answered the call, but honestly, it’s good that I did. Because it gave me to the opportunity to see some truths even more clearly than I had been starting to anyway. It gave me to the opportunity to truly see some things that several friends have pointed out to me repeatedly but I was willing to overlook—the blinders were ripped from my eyes. It showed me how little we have in common, how much differently I live my life. I’m not at all saying I’m better than her, just that I choose to live my life in a more positive light.

Shortly into the phone call, I asked S why she decided to call me. Turns out I was basically her consolation prize, her second pick. She was sad and lonely because she can’t go visit her daughter for a while so she called me. Would she have called eventually anyway? I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. The premise of her call is what really matters, and it didn’t happen for the best reason. Her reason for calling was ultimately shallow and hurtful and whether it’s from her or anyone else, I deserve better.

In talking to S it became clearer than ever that the few things we have in common aren’t enough to sustain a strong friendship. Our past, our mental health issues, both of us being on the queer spectrum—those are no longer enough. They haven’t been enough in a long time. It also became unmistakable that the difference in the way we each live our lives is a huge stumbling block. So often I feel that I don’t have much of a life. My fibromyalgia and mental health get in the way of the life I’d love to live. But over the course of our two-hour conversation it dawned on me that even with my limitations, I live circles around her. I honestly feel bad for her because she is so bogged down in life. And I don’t say that in a mean way, I sincerely wish she had more life in her, that she would fight harder to live better. But it also doesn’t mean I have to be dragged down with her. Part of a friendship is to support each other and I can’t even imagine how she and I could be on equal footing in that respect. And then there is the fact that as far as I still know, she does not believe in my/our multiplicity. A pretty major deal-breaker.

Even though it feels freeing to be bringing closure to our relationship, it’s also sad. We met nearly 26 years ago in a psych hospital when we were both seniors in high school. Her daughter and my older son are just three months apart in age, and when our three kids were very young they were practically raised together. Even when I was forced apart from my own sons, I helped her raise her daughter. We were in a romantic relationship twice and nearly a third time. We’ve seen each other go through a lot and have travelled through many of those things together. We’ve shared a lot of life!

I will always want the best in life for S. I will always send petitions to the universe (and Gloria prayers to God) that her life will become more of what she wants it to be and that she’ll be truly happy—let it be! I know I’ll have moments of missing her, missing the past, wishing things could be different. But I’m glad it’s finally time for moving forward and letting go.

~Kali (with input from Cait)

How to Move Forward in Seven (Not-So) Easy Steps ~Cait~


Step 1: Long for the past and pine for that woman in the past enough to share your feelings with her, kiss her and create a huge mess when you realize it would be bad for the whole system to be with her.

Step 2: A couple months after tidying up said mess, continue longing and pining enough to think about sending her a letter saying you really do want to make it work–but don’t send the letter.

Step 3: Get feelings riled up again several months later and meet her for coffee, ending up at her place and becoming violently ill from her smoking (and probably stress)–but succeed in not telling her that you want to be with her.

Step 4: A year after getting smoked out, get the longing going strong again, send her a letter hoping you can be friends (without any mention of ulterior motive), get a letter back from her, and talk to her on the phone.

Step 5: After reading her letter repeatedly, realize there really, truly isn’t anything there to hang on to anymore–especially considering you have it right there in front of you in writing that she doesn’t believe you are multiple.

Step 6: Send her a letter telling her it’s a problem that she doesn’t believe in your multiplicity. Then cry with relief, sadness, anger, and frustration. Cry over loss and lost time. Cry about what you could have lost if you’d changed things to be with her.

Step 7: Know that feelings for her may arise again in the future but feel relief that this blog post will be waiting as a reminder that there is nothing to go to with her.

Far From Easy


Something we wrote back in January that fits so well with life right now. Okay, always!

One body to live in
We all have to give in
Just a little

She likes this
He likes that
It’s a struggle

I can’t have one thing
You can’t have another
Somehow we all have to make it work

One fear here
Another fear there
Look—we can help each other

You do this
I’ll do that
Together we’ll make it

It’s still far from easy

A Question About Fidelity and/or Infidelity


If one part in a system is married and another part becomes intimate with someone else, is that infidelity? That’s the question, plain and simple. Except that being multiple is anything but simple. Being multiple totally blurs the lines on this and I’m really interested in what any of you have to say about it.


A Public Thank You…


…to someone who will never see this.

Thank you, my beloved brother, for shielding me from the trial. For telling the prosecutor to absolutely not make me part of the trial. You knew our father would drag me through the mud, would possibly take me to my utter death. I’ve met a couple people recently who are being dragged through the mud and it’s horrifying. Thank you so much for protecting me. I’m 100% positive it’s part of why I’m still around to write this. You are my second hero, right after your beautiful daughter. I love you.

~Kali (Michelle to him)



When InviziblePain wrote this post about not being the one her husband married, it really struck a chord with me. I was already feeling much the same way and this stuff has been swirling around in my head for weeks now, waiting to become my own blog post. If only I could have seen the future before “my” wedding 5 1/2 years ago, before we met DH just over 6 years ago. Yes, I wrote this post not even six months ago, but that was more for the opportunity to publicly prove The Father wrong. If there had been any recognition of the multiplicity 6 years ago, I doubt even Gloria would have gone through with getting married.

Gloria is the one who married DH. And that is the biggest problem. Now we’re all in this marriage and that’s how it will stay for the foreseeable future. It’s not that anyone hates DH, although a couple aren’t fond of him. Mostly everyone tolerates him and accepts the fact that he’s who we’re all spending life with right now. Gloria loves him dearly, of course, and I (Kali) care about him very much. But damn, some of us seriously want our own life/ves, our own relationship/s, including me.

Cait and I both miss S, although Cait’s longing reaches well into a tear-inducing heartache at times. Yes, I admit it, I miss her. I can go either way, but I lean more toward women and I do miss that woman. We miss our life with her, our commonalities (even including issues with sex) and being a family with her and “our” daughter. Even a couple of the inside kiddos wish to be around her, to talk to her. I also admit that Cait isn’t the only one who ponders trying to get back together with S. Will that happen? Not likely. Not only has S not communicated with us in any way since we literally got smoked out a year ago, but I feel like we totally blew it with her, for good. (And that part at the end of that smoked out post that says there really isn’t anything there? Nuh-uh. So not true. Cait was very angry, very sad, very frustrated. At this time, too. This is more of what rings in our minds these days.) Maybe it’s infatuation; Cait says, “Unequivocally, love!” Call it what you will but we do miss her. That’s our truth. I realize that we waffle, but ultimately it’s from fear of things not working out, and not wanting to hurt her yet again–or get hurt.

Lately there’s been a drive to change things, not necessarily with S. It feels less scary to think about moving and having many things about our daily life change. It feels less scary to think about not being in this marriage. We can even think about not seeing our T anymore if we moved out of this county. We (Cait and I) know it all feels less scary than it did 15 months ago (when thinking about leaving DH for S) because we’re not in the moment of making changes. We are well aware of that fact. But we are also so much less scared about making changes that we can imagine it happening. Not necessarily with S, since she may never talk to us again, but still happening.

I ponder the possible changes quite a bit these days. The logistics. The emotions. How it would all take place. Who (outside) might be involved. Hell, who here might be involved. (Cait? Me? Maybe even Joss or someone else?) I ponder where we could be in a year, literally and figuratively. We are growing, and it’s entirely possible (and sad, without a doubt) that we are growing out of this marriage.

~Kali (and Cait)
*I absolutely couldn’t help myself when using this title. We ♥ The Princess Bride.