A Life Divided

Before I was even 5, my life became divided into neat little pieces or boxes. There was the child that lived in the nightmare that was my house, then there was the child that went to dance and had a smile on her face, and the child who went to preschool and struggled to fit in with the other kids in the class.

Struggling to fit in would not change for me for a long time. To this day, my life is still divided. There is the person who goes to therapy and speaks about her mental illness, then there is the mom that has to be an adult, there are the kids that are still scared and just want to live as kids, and then there is the person who puts on a happy front so that others think that I am ok.

That is not including all of the emotions that I have boxed away. Getting in touch with those emotions has been a struggle and I still feel numb on most days.

I would like the boxes and their contents to come open, for everything to merge. My mind seems to have other ideas. Part of me is terrified to show emotion. When I was younger I learned that showing emotions such as grief and sadness meant that one was weak.

Even today, when I visit my past abusers, I need to pretend like everything is fine. Luckily, most of the time I can keep myself in check, yet sometimes I just need to leave and get out of there or I feel like I am going to explode.

Even my illnesses are boxed up. There are illnesses that are more socially accepted than others. Depression seems to be something that everyone can relate too. All people have had their ups and downs. Depending who I am around, it is even ok to experience symptoms of PTSD and to not always be ok. The DID needs to be kept in a box. DID is hard to understand. I do not hear voices and my personalities are not one-dimensional. They have names, ages, memories, and as crazy as it sounds their own likes and dislikes.

So, I feel like I have to remain divided. There are those days though where I wish that I could just be myself. Have a meltdown, not be ok. Instead, I have learned really well to hide everything and do what people think that I should be doing.

Lately, it has really upset me that I was not able to complete school and am limited by my physical illness, not to mention the symptoms of my mental illness. My husband has suggested that I start a book about my life. I am not sure about that. Who wants to know about my life?

so, for today my life will still be in boxes. At least I can open them sometimes and be who I/we truly are!!

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