DID is different with everybody who has it. That's because in each case it was invented anew by a small child. Small children can do it most easily. They aren't conferring with other small children or going by a manual as to how to do a dissociative identity thing. They just get under overwhelming pressure and/or pain and they invent it. Yes they usually are pretty cagy to be able to do it. It's kind of like having an imaginary friend - which small children can do anyway. But in this case it's like turning into someone else who can bear the pain. Kind of like Clark Kent stepping into a phone booth in a business suit and emerging as Superman with a cape and being able to fly etc. Then when the abuse is over they can switch back and be the previous guy. Often the Clark Kent guy is unable to remember what the Superman guy endured. That is of course "amnesia".
I can still do this under pressure. I have done it recently. I know what it "feels like".
I used to be a college teacher. As my teaching progressed, I would "become" some other guy to teach. I felt I needed to do that because who I felt to be the real me was pretty stodgy and not very dynamic. If I was still doing it today, I would step into my mental "phone booth" and become "Dr. Oz" in order to teach. At that time one of my alternate personalities was "Carl Sagan". It's kind of "cool" to step up to the lecturn and become "Carl Sagan" to deliver your lectures! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Sagan
I acquired the ability when I was 4. The perp was making movies of me and some other boys. Of course we had to "perform" while he was making the movies. I often would stay overnight in the perp's house. When I returned home I had complete amnesia to the abuse and the stay at the perp's house. It was a "magic slate" amnesia. Like that child's toy where he can draw a picture on the magic slate and then lift up the top sheet and it would completely erase the drawing beneath. As soon as I went through the door of my parent's house, zipppp..... up went the cover sheet and I had no memory of what had happened. It sounds so convenient..... But it had lots of consequences. Of course #1 is that I lost the memory of what had happened. (Actually it was stored in my brain but just unavailable). I carried this trait for many years. I'm just now realizing how it worked and trying to get over it. For instance. When I was a student, I was learning and being given homework assignments. When I went through the door of my home, zipppp..... The memory of what I learned was not available and the homework assignment was also not available. That's why it helped to be a smarty pants. I could figure out answers on quizes, or somehow reach into that grab bag of amnesia and pull out the answers.
My T presented me with a broader list of symptoms than I was ever aware of on Wednesday. And pointed out very subtly by them things I had been doing without realizing it. Like losing place mid sentence and jumping to a totally unrelated topic without missing a beat. Or without any indication that I was even aware I had done so. And whenever toddler me or "Little Chris" would go into details describing his memories, my eyes would roll up in my head and I would be "lost" to the environment as long as LC was sharing his memories. I never noticed either of those before.
I don't know that I rolled up my eyes, or if I did it was like the blink of an eye. But instead of becoming LC, I became "Little Puffer". Yes, then it was only after therapy that I could remember the memories of Little Puffer. I still haven't remembered it all. I had some memories that never vanished. The perp would apparently come down to breakfast and cut his toenails and wear a certain kind of robe and bedroom slippers. Because of that I always hated those kinds of slippers and the toenail clipping, etc. There are other examples.
It makes a lot of sense for me at this point. And explains a lot about what happened later with Fr. Bastard. What went on during his abuse.
Yes...... It starts to make sense. Much later. I had to put together information from a lot of sources and it was like putting together a puzzle. The pieces had to fit together. And when the picture on the puzzle starts to emerge, then it's "Oh............".
Some of the sources I used were: The picture my avatar is drawn from was of me at that age. The perp was famous in his employment and I got lots of information from the web. My mother after a head injury told me the names of the other boys involved in the abuse. I have pictures of the house and Google Map has shown me the precise location. My father's employment history has given me exact dates and locations. My mother's memories were slightly out of time sequence, but I could correct them by my father's type-written employment record. I had light hypnosis to reveal the early memories.
It's kinda scary and kind of hopeful at the same time.
Almost kinda fun, like putting together a puzzle. The problem is that abuse at that age leaves a heavy hobnail boot footprint in our brain development.http://www.malesurvivor.org/board/ubbthr...2889#Post212889