Dissociation

I’m watching the snow fall and enjoying its delicate dance, the way it decorates the limbs of the trees around my house, the way it covers the landscape like crocheted lace. I live in the Adirondack Mountains in NY and people here are used to the snow. There’s not much for us to fear because we’re prepared for it.

It’s different on the other side of the country. The beauty of the snow hides the fact that people in Texas and elsewhere are in harm’s way, hurting, maybe even close to death because of a snow that has pulled out all the stops and challenged the systems that were meant to protect people from power outages and loss of home heat.

Credit: Edmund Lowe Getty Images

Danger

Sometimes danger comes in pretty packages, hidden beneath the glow of something beautiful. Dissociative disorders are a little bit like that. Sometimes we live in nice houses and have parents who go to church. Sometimes we play the good girl or boy who never steps out of line. Sometimes we cross all our T’s and dot all our I’s just to make sure everyone knows that there’s nothing to know. (Of course, sometimes we don’t have all those things, but we find other ways to hide our realities.)

Dissociative identity disorder hides the abuse, neglect, or other form of trauma from the rest of the world, including ourselves. Like the snow falling, dissociation forms a veil between the ugly truth and our conscious minds. Other people may look at us and think, “What a perfect life s/he has!” or “Isn’t that a nice family,” or “Why is s/he complaining when, really, they’re so lucky?” And we think, “Oh, I must be crazy to feel this way because everyone else thinks I’m fine.” 

Safety

One definition of dissociation is “a disconnection between one’s conscious awareness and aspects of one’s environment, experiences, or perceptions.” Dissociation was lifesaving in our childhoods, but moving through it as adults is important to our healing.

The road to recovery through the dissociative “snow” begins with slowly letting the truth emerge. It means acknowledging the pain and befriending the voices. It means allowing the stories to take shape and believing them. It means putting ourselves and our healing first. It means letting go of some relationships that aren’t safe and embracing new ones that are. It means loving ourselves even in our imperfections. In short, the road to recovery means brushing away the dissociative snow and becoming real.

Authentic Living

Whether you’ve just begun this journey or are well on your way, your recovery will lead you, not only to authentic beauty, but to an honest life. You deserve to feel all your feelings. You deserve to be grounded most of the time. You deserve to navigate through and beyond triggers and flashbacks. You deserve relationships that are life-giving, not life-draining. In short, you deserve to be real.

Part of healing is living. So, embrace the snow, build snowmen, sled, ski (or maybe, if you’re cold averse, find a tropical beach somewhere)! 

Invitation

My website at www.lynbarrett.com is at your disposal. The ebook called DID Unpacked is available for free there. You can also sign up for notification of the release of my memoir, Crazy: In Search of a Narrative and learn more about writing opportunities.

What questions do you have about DID? Any topics you’d like me to cover? I’ll look forward to hearing from you! 

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater. Isaiah 55: 10

Lyn