Tag Archives: authenticity

Laughing at the Sky

This is how I feel lately. I wouldn’t have understood it a few years ago. I would’ve felt defensive … Perfect??? In a world where we murder children and attack entire races simply because of the color of their skin? Bullshit. I would’ve thought that to laugh at the sky one would have to ignore life’s horrors. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to ignore anything. I wanted to be someone who wouldn’t look away. I wanted to be, if nothing else, a witness.

Witnesses don’t laugh at the sky, I would’ve thought. They’ve seen too much for that.

But one day not long ago I woke up laughing and I haven’t really stopped since. Depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress … it’s all still there; I still have Dissociative Identity Disorder. Perhaps I always will.

And somewhere in the world right now people are suffering. In many somewheres actually. Right now and right now and now and now and now man is demonstrating his own inhumanity in new, ever crueler ways. I didn’t think it was possible to know that and also know that life is beautiful.

My God, though, life is beautiful.

Blogging Responsibly about Dissociative Identity Disorder

I feel really inspired by your comments on my last post, but I want to go back for a minute and say more about why I hesitate to continue writing about Dissociative Identity Disorder.

I’m a fan of this blog on health and nutrition that is just phenomenal. Really, really great.* Browsing the blog’s Facebook page yesterday, I came across a link to this article, along with the following introduction:

Mental health issues are ABSOLUTELY metabolic. Sleep is one of the most important keys for metabolic balance. Good sleep can regulate everything from your sex hormones to your appetite and energy levels. Now research is linking poor sleep to schizophrenia.

Continue reading

DCMS Mailbox: My Disability Hearing

Pretending is part of navigating life successfully. And by “successfully” I mean “in a way that is palatable and non-threatening to others.” For the most part, those of us with Dissociative Identity Disorder are naturals at pretending. Making believe that things are not as they are is, when you get down to it, the essence of DID. But that also makes this socially acceptable dynamic – pretending something doesn’t exist, or isn’t what it is – an extremely unstable one for us. So when I read this email from Dan Kline, I wasn’t at all surprised:

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First some background. I am 42 years old and have been diagnosed with the following limitations, DID, complex PTSD, manic depression and anxiety. I have had multiple unsuccessful suicide attempts and have been hospitalized 4 different times in 1 year for them. So now I will get to the meat and potatoes of what I am posting about. Continue reading

Confessions of a Crappy Blogger

I hate Blogging.

I love writing. And I love having this space where I can publish what I write with the click of a button. I love that I can package my content in the design I choose. And I love that I can hear directly from my readers right here, where the content is.

“Um … Isn’t that Blogging?”

No, it’s blogging, which is totally different from Blogging. Blogging is blogging with a briefcase and a greasy salesman’s smile. It’s cubicle blogging. I hate everything about it, especially these 4 things that social media “experts” insist any self-respecting Blogger must do:

  • Create Conversations I took this to mean “cultivate meaningful dialogue with readers‘. Isn’t it cute how I thought that? I’m pretty naive for a mistrustful, misanthropic ass. Because after all this time observing Good Bloggers and trying hard to become one myself, I now know that when the self-proclaimed experts advise you to create conversations what they mean is ‘pretend to care about what other people think in order to manipulate readers into feeling personally invested in your content.’
  • Stay Visible Facebook, Twitter, Google+, LinkedIn. Digg, StumbleUpon, Delicious, Reddit. Those are just a few of the social networking sites Good Bloggers spam frequent to promote their largely bad to mediocre crap awesome content. They also comment on other blogs (and then blog about the fact that they commented on another blog), write guest posts, link back to themselves in forums and otherwise make huge nuisances of themselves in an effort to keep the readers they have and wrangle in more.
  • Share the Love Social media marketing is really just a massive circle jerk. I know that’s a super gross metaphor but sadly, it fits. Take Twitter for example: a Good Blogger tweets links to other Bloggers’ content as well as their own. Then the linked Blogger should retweet it, with a hearty “thanks!” thrown in. This is supposed to be “networking” but really it’s just spamming your timeline with even more crap in hopes that you’ll get a new follower or a Klout point out of the deal.
  • Publish Consistently You really should have a schedule if you’re going to be a Blogger. Your readers need to feel assured that they can rely on you to pony up your narcissistic bullshit in a timely manner. What will they do if they can’t read about yesterday’s appointment with your therapist while they’re having lunch, as usual? They’ll hate you, obviously. And they’ll unsubscribe and your Google Page Rank will dwindle down to nothing, nada, zero and you’ll die alone and unhappy and wearing unfashionable shoes.

In Other Words, Nothing – Not Even Your Content – Is As Important As Getting More and More and More Readers

It took me a long time to realize that no matter how palatably they’re presented, all of these things share one, excruciatingly boring purpose: increase readership. (I know, super duh.) And I guess I consider my readership a gift. I mean, I’m not curing cancer here. I’m sitting in my pajamas, munching on a pop-tart, and publishing my thoughts on a topic that doesn’t even concern most of the world. And I like it. It’s fun. But trying to get people to read what I write ? That’s not fun. It’s boring. And vain. And I hate it.

(But honestly, I’ve never heard any writer ever say, “Gee, you know what’s super fun? Promotion. The gimmicks, the networking, the whole nine yards. Gosh, it’s great!” Have you?)

So screw my Google Page Rank. (I think it’s like a 2 anyway, so not a lot to lose.) Twitter, Shitter. Not doing it. I dig Facebook and I actually use it regularly so that won’t change. But Holly, what about your Klout rating! LA LA LA DON’T CARE. Guest posts? Nope, not doing them. They stress me out and I always miss deadlines and then I feel like a huge douche. StumbleUpon? Google+? This is me, not caring:

This post is well over the stringently recommended 350-500 word count limit. But I don’t wear fashionable shoes anyway.

Lessons in Vulnerability Part 2

Several months ago I finally accepted the fact that if I’m going to talk about Dissociative Identity Disorder, I’m going to have to venture into that minefield most people refer to as repressed/recovered memory. My intention was to publish two (at least) different articles addressing what I consider extremist arguments that either A) refuse to acknowledge that memory is malleable and may not always represent concrete historical fact, or B) entirely denounce any and every long-forgotten memory that’s been re-integrated into conscious awareness as iatrogenic or purposefully deceitful. But after tackling side A of that particular coin I realized that this is one of those issues that doesn’t allow for much gray area. There is enormous pressure to pick a side. And with a topic as volatile as this one, picking a side means not just conforming to the perspective of your chosen group, but vilifying the perspectives of the other one.

I’m not willing to do either. Continue reading

Partly Right, Partly Wrong

A reader sent me a poem from Dr. James Chu’s newest edition of Rebuilding Shattered Lives. Adapted from John Godfrey Saxe’s The Blind Men and the Elephant – which is itself one of many interpretations of a very old Indian parable about, as I see it, that slippery thing we call truth – it addresses various versions of “the truth” about Dissociative Identity Disorder. The entire poem is thought-provoking and worth a read if you get the chance. Of its 48 lines, these 6 struck me as the simplest, and yet most profound:

And so these men of mental health
Disputed loud and long,

Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong.

And each was partly in the right,
And all in part were wrong.

For me, these lines speak to something I was struggling with when I wrote a similarly titled post, Always Right. Always Wrong. Continue reading

Lessons in Vulnerability

I wrote an article titled Why The Courage to Heal Isn’t on My Recommended Reading List with full expectation that some members of my primary audience, i.e. those with Dissociative Identity Disorder, might take offense to my criticisms of the book. Bearing that in mind, I made a concerted effort to present a balanced, respectful commentary. It never occurred to me that anyone might suggest I wasn’t being critical enough. But someone did. And as I read through his second comment, I realized that I hadn’t just tried to show respect, I’d edited my thoughts on The Courage to Heal to some degree. Why? Because I know firsthand what happens in the survivor community when someone questions the integrity of books like that, acknowledges that false memory research has a valuable place in discussions of trauma and dissociation, and expresses anger at the pain and suffering misguided approaches to memory have caused. I’ve seen compassionate people vilified and treated like mouthpieces for the False Memory Syndrome Foundation simply because they voiced their opinion that memory isn’t as reliable as Bass and Davis suggest. In an attempt to shield myself from that same response, I held back. In doing so, I misrepresented myself.

And so I learned the following lesson about vulnerability:

Choosing my words carefully out of respect for others’ sensibilities is one thing. Doing the same thing out of a desire to protect myself from vulnerability is another. The former has merit, the latter is pointless. Particularly when you consider that if you make an argument, take a stance of any kind, someone somewhere will perceive you as disrespectful.

Always Right. Always Wrong.

Nothing wrong with lighting a smoke, naked in a headdress.

On any given day I can be wrong about a hundred different things, depending on who you ask. I get that that’s probably true for everyone. But it’s clear to me that most people are more comfortable with that reality than I am. I know Dissociative Identity Disorder complicates this for me, along with the haunting echoes of the causes of DID that seem to permanently fuck with perceptions of right and wrong. I don’t want to do the wrong thing, make mistakes, offend someone, or give a bad impression. I know, I know … no one does. But is everyone so terrified of being wrong? Does everyone need alters to set and enforce boundaries, be the heavies, be the assholes, because they’re too afraid of making someone angry to do it themselves?

I don’t think so.