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September 17th, 2002
I am fortunate, I suppose, to have been diagnosed with Multipul Personality Disorder.
Fortunate because the average mental paitent, who has MPD, is misdiagnosed. Often, it takes many years to get a competent psychologist to diagnosis it correctly.
For me, it took only a year. I say 'only' but it has been a long year, most of which Ive spent in this hospital.
My head hurts, I need to stop now.
September 18th, 2002
I have never kept a journal in my life. My psychologist told me to keep one. I hate it. It's totally pointless. What am I supposed to write?
'Oh, today I did this and that'.
God, it's scary. I hate having this. Sometimes, like now, the personalities in my head fight for dominance, yelling at eachother(hence the schizophrenia diagnosis I origionally had.)
I was in denial for a long time. I thought MPD people would suddenly flip out and start talking like a little girl. Or perhaps an old nun or a something else.
It's not like the movies. Not for me. For others, I've heard. But not for me.
I change dominant personalities change so subutely that I don't always notice. Now, I only notice when I'm looking for it to happen (the personalities almost never argue).
That is why I'm supposed to keep this diary.
Journal! Diaries are for sissy girls.
Stupid pen. I hate it. I'm done.
September 19th
Psyhologist apointment today. Went well. Well in the sence that I'm making progress.
The problem is, making progress means being exposed to intensly painful memories.
Memories that shattered the mirror.
Speaking of mirrors... I can't describe how scary it is, yet I suppose I can try.
Imagine looking into a mirror and not recognizing yourself.
I don't have black out periods, but when a personality is dominant for a long time, I can barely remember what that personality did.
I tried to describe what it's like to a friend of mine. At least, I thought he was a friend.
God! What a jerk! He told me I don't really have it, that it's not even real.
I asked him where he got his eight years of schooling to become a psychologist.
Describing it. Yes. Imagine a circle with a smaller circle inside it. Now, from the outer edge of the inner circle draw lines across to the inner side of the large circle. Now imagine each section is a different, dominant personality.
"I" am the center circle, watching as the other personalities run my life, switching secretely while I bear the consequences.
The psychologist is good. Mr. Lux. Very smart. Very. Not like some pompous fools I've had to deal with.
Pill pushers. Drugging me into a nearly catotonic state.
I hate doctors. They're all alike. Think they're master over you. Over your body, telling you what to do, what meds to take. And refuse? Have fun in solitary til you're willing to obey. Like some little kid sent to their room. Bastards.
Lux isn't like that. He's very good.
September 19th
I'm back again. Wow, twice in one day. I'm a teacher's pet!
I read what I just wrote. I can't believe it!
'Shattered mirror', I wrote.
Wouldn't it have been helpful if I had explained that!
I guess I didn't cause I know what it means. Sometimes, I'm so self-centered!
Mr. Lux told me that some people feel like they're like a puzzle. Each piece a personality.
Hell. What? I don't even understand that. The mirror is much better.
When I was a child, well, something bad happened. Repeatedly. It broke the mirror--myself--into numerous shards. I look into them, seeing myself reflected a million times, not knowing which is really me.
Do you have any idea how scary it is not to know who you are?!
"You're your core personality, the person you've always been," Lux told me. "Each time you confront a painful memory, or overcome a negative personalitie's dominance, the puzzle piece is added to the picture--now I get that--until it creates the whole you." Something like that, he said.
I can't remember.
September 22nd
Got to go outside for group therapy today. (Did I mention I'm still in the nuthouse?)
They actually gave me a pen to write this. Can you believe it?
Hope one of me doesn't decide to use it inapropiately on someone. Like that doctor I hate. I'd love to see the look on his face.
The leaves were so nice outside. Red, orange. You know. You've seen fall foliage, I'm sure.
Who has? Who am I addressing?
I suppose, whoever reads it. If anyone ever reads it.
I can smell lunch coming. Hope I ordered something good.
All in all, things are finally looking up for me. I've even decided to make ammends with my father.
I hope to leave soon, and now, with a proper diagnosis, I may be able to with just out paitent therapy.
End(?)
[Author's note: should this be the end or would you (readers) like new entries into his journal? please let me know. Thanks a lot.]
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In the dark corner of my mind a goblin hides.
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