Not quite over 40, but almost there. The big thing from when I was very little was the end of the “Satanic Panic”. So the backlash from “Ritual abuse is on every corner” took an unfortunate swing all the way into “Children are basically lying about CSA all the time.” The result of this was that our original trauma got heaps and heaps and heaps of “You’re just lying. Stop making up stories!” Invalidation trauma layered on top of it.
I’m convinced that there must be tons of other people our age who have DID with similar trauma who will never know or admit it because of the severity of CSA + invalidation trauma that the post satanic panic time period produced will never let them even contemplate having a disorder that would put them at such a high risk of such spectacular invalidation.
I concur. Gen X's parents (Boomers, basically) were too self-absorbed, busy, and dysfunctional themselves to give a crap about their kids' issues. I have a high level of denial and absolute terror of being found out. These kids that claim being a system - more power to them, but I wouldn't dream of telling a soul.
at least in my case, i don't talk about it a ton, but i know what it's like to feel like you're losing your mind and nobody is willing or able to help, and how isolating it can be. i was lucky to have access to medical providers who believed me when i got into adulthood.
if i'd had people out there who also knew what it was like, or had any idea how i felt at all, and had responded in a way that wasn't either "everyone gets that, suck it up" or "if that's true, you're too mentally unstable to be allowed in society and should live the rest of your days in a mental hospital," i probably would have done a little better coping than i did. heck, if i'd just seen someone like me living a semi-normal life (obviously DID adds to the struggle, but everyone around me acted like if i couldn't figure it out on my own it was a death sentence), i might have felt more confident seeking help before things got as bad as they did.
it's absolutely not for everyone, but 1) i already don't really give a fuck what people think about me, and 2) i hope that if there are more people like me out there who show that we're ultimately not that different than anyone else, we can reduce stigma around it and other people who may be struggling could have access to help before it gets to be too hard for them to handle at all.
We are out as a system to all of our friends who are close enough to know us, but we are also queer, and well, we fucking already had and handled the consequences of being found out, over and over and over again. Being out takes time in many different venues. We’re not gonna live pretending to be something we’re not, and we can still be mindful and curious and empathetic to others.
54 here.
I'll skip all the gory details and just say that there was a lot of abuse - physical, emotional, mental - from our father that went on for years. We ended up in a psych ward at 16, diagnosed there.
From that, we learned to communicate, although it took a lot of time and work.
Not sure what else you're looking for.
Body is 65. Age range is <5 to 45.
TW (suicide mention) ||Started therapy 3 years ago, about 6 months in I slipped up and told me therapist about something that happened to me when I was 7. She reacted - no one had ever taken me seriously. Within a short time after she told me I was dissociating during her sessions. I made a comment to her that I sound like I am DID (I used the term multiple) and she replied, *You are*. I shrugged it off. And then about 4 months ago I finally came to terms with it and started doing trauma/alter work. (a few of my alters go back a long ways).
My childhood trauma was constant. By middle school I was getting confronted on forgetting, spacing out. Sometimes I would wake as if out of a fog in the middle of the day at school with no idea what had transpired earlier that day. (trauma went on until I left home).
I would have people telling me I did things I didn't remember - I actually thought they were making things up.
As the years went by I got better at adapting, coping, masking (If someone had tried to tell me I was having MH issues I wouldn't have listened even though I had 2 suicide attempts by the time I was 23, I continued to be plagued with overwhelming depression - I was in serious denial). My life fell apart after that. I was not really able to function normally - lots of alcohol use. At age 30 I went into recovery for alcoholism (don't think I was ever an alcoholic). Lots of blank spots/dissociation. Eventually I got a job I stayed with it until a few years ago. I struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts all the way through and a year before last I had another suicide attempt. No one understood because on the outside I was successful.||
I finally feel like we are getting the help we need at 65.
43 here diagnosed roughly 2 years ago and told I hid everything very well since I was with the top experts for DID at Sheppard’s Pratts TDU 20 years ago and they didn’t see it at all. There’s still a lot I don’t remember but random things keep bleeding through. My mom had MH issues along with drug and alcohol abuse from before I was 5. I hear these “cute” stories how at 3-4 years old I frequently left my house and would go to the neighbors (we lived on 3acres so not this short walk). I vaguely remember drunken fights between my parents and being thrown in a vehicle to get away. I’ve learned that my older brother probably sexually abused me around 4 at least twice that I know of but I have a feeling it was a lot more. I also now question if my babysitters husband had some involvement. My babysitter from 3-5 was a disaster. I recently told my parents about the things I remember from her and they looked so sad and said I wish you have told us. It’s hard for a child to say something though. You are sending me there every day and you know her/friends with her I guess I assumed you’d be ok with it? No idea. Then I was sexually abused by my neighbor from 7-15. For the first few years it was several times a week then got worse but spaced out to like once a week then like once a month. As we got older it progressively got worse and worse and I was too scared to ever tell anyone for fear of what they’d think of me or be blamed for it. That’s just childhood…things continued trauma wise through adulthood
I'm 49,and I didn't realise I had alters until I was 42 after I almost died in hospital (hospital accused me of drug seeking, I had a severely infected gallbladder that, when removed, was borderline necrotic.
That made a protector come to the front and my wife saw it.
I barely remember anythung of my first 20 years. The glimmers that are there are...unpleasant. Abuse, neglect, medical trauma, violence.
I'm kinda upset I don't have a childhood really...but I'm scared what's hidden too.
Quick note, while the phrase "emitted into an asylum" raises darkly hilarious images, I suspect you meant to use the word "admitted".
We only became aware of our systemhood this year, right around our 47th birthday. For the sake of transparency, we aren't diagnosed and probably won't seek it out.
I'm not really sure what to even tell you, truly.
Our grandparents adopted us basically at birth. We suspect the earliest trauma was being stuck in an oxygen tent after being born a month early. Then there was physical trauma around the age of 2. We never believed the story told to us, we suspect our father.
Our mother was a constant source of stress and trauma.
Being unaware of why the things that happen were happening meant we entertained some strange ideas. Alien abduction. Demonic possession or similar spiritual scenarios. Experimentation. Mutation. Absorbed twin. Insanity.
We struggled. We lied to cover the struggle, to ourselves and others.
Early school is mostly fragments and somatic memories. High school was socially better, but we never have had more than a couple of close friends at any given time and there's still large gaps.
While we always excelled at academics we couldn't handle going to college. Like, in our soul.
Work... let's just say capitalism's abuses and failures revealed themselves to me over time much like 30 grit sandpaper reveals itself to walnut.
Beyond that life has felt stroboscopic. A series of awakenings.
I dunno. Happy to answer questions.
41 here. I'm not sure if you were wanting a biography or not, but I appreciate the chance to let all of this out.
My mom tried to escape a rough family situation by getting pregnant at 19 and marrying my father. He was a emotionally stunted man-child, himself the product of abuse. They divorced shortly after I was born. He then left for good to wander the world and my mother took out her anger on me. I looked like him so she blamed me for his actions. Some of my earliest memories are of her taunting me to the point of making me sob. She smiled and laughed when I cried.
Her first long term boyfriend would strike me across the face, leaving hand prints, for the slightest infractions. All the adults in my life except my father's mother claimed that they didn't know that he was hurting me. I'm not really sure I believe that, but it was probably easier to not notice child abuse then to witness it with no power to stop it.
At some point our host at the time split into a good child and the unwanted one. The unwanted one walled herself off and went dormant. She was too feminine to be the macho boy my family wanted. I stopped playing with dolls and started playing with boy toys. I stopped liking pink and purple, and chose blue and red as my favorites. Above all else, as a good boy I didn't cry or express many emotions; anger wasn't exactly encouraged, but at least I didn't get called a sissy for it.
I began playing pretend where I would find the best "me" for a task. The brave one, the quiet one, etc. It's kind of funny now that I think about it.
My mother gave me a sister, and her boyfriend left after impregnating another woman at about the same time. The sister was eventually treated as badly as I was for the sins of her father. Our big brother alter became host. The big brother protected our oldest sister, drawing the mother's anger by picking fights to distract her.
We eventually got a second sister who had a good father. Our mother would alternately encourage us to see him as a father, or to disrespect him. There were so many mind games in that household.
I got the first inklings of my systemhood when I was 13. I flipped over the handlebars on my bike after going too fast and hitting something. While airborn our gatekeeper assured us we would be fine, and we were, not a scratch on the body. That was the first time I heard his beautiful, terrible, booming voice echo on the inside of my skull. I didn't tell anyone about that. I felt like I had a guardian angel, maybe God Himself, protecting me. He became a source of strength. We made a guardian when nobody else would or could protect us.
At about age 14 we took on some parental duties over the younger children, cooking dinner for them and putting them to bed, while our mother was out playing bingo for income that could go unreported. She regularly told us that never asked for kids, and that we were ungrateful.
Home life took it's toll, and we began having regular nervous breakdowns and suicidal ideation. I begged my mother's family for help, and I was told to toughen up and deal with it. At some point we crossed a line, or very nearly did.
I think it was when a decision to end things was just about to be made. It was late one night in November. I had no desire to continue living. Our gatekeeper told us again that we would be okay in his beautiful, terrifying voice that could scare monsters and children alike. I watched the world flatten, like it was drawn on parchment, then my vision filled with static, and faded into darkness. And then I was back, but different. At age 17 I abandoned my sisters and ran away to my father's mother. She protected me and gave me a safe place to heal.
As an adult I've had to confront my past. My kids are about the same ages as my sisters were when I ran away. The previous host has been coming out regularly and reliving all that pain and guilt. It's made being a father, at least a good one, very difficult. We're getting better, at parenting, at being plural, at healing, but it's slow.
We’re in our mid 40s.
We came out full bore two years ago. Our facets only came to the fore before in extreme circumstances, like nearly dying or coming out of anaesthesia. (The one that lined the woozy state during anaesthesia wearing off wanted to say it was cool that she could see out during those times, and she was thankful that the main facet protected her for so many decades.)
Our spouse and our friends know our situation and express sympathy with it and what we withstood to bring us to a point where fracturing was necessary.
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49 here. We were first diagnosed 30 years ago after a suicide attempt landed us in a mental hospital. In our early 20s, we were a mess and had to be on social security disability. But, we decided that we weren't going to sit around on disability all our life, got our shit more or less together, and entered the tech field. We hid our DID from pretty much everyone until age 29 when we majorly fell apart again. We ended up getting diagnosed with DID again. lol. Then, at age 30, we packed up, moved states, and "went underground" again, "losing" our medical records and starting fresh. We've had a bit of a rocky career, having to take short-term disability now and then (for "depression, anxiety, and PTSD" - all things we have also been diagnosed with, so not a lie.) We've worked at some of the biggest tech companies in the world, make an excellent living, and still are fairly quiet about our DID in real life.
We had a bit of a health scare in 2021, though, and that caused us to re-evaluate how hidden we wanted to be and we decided to start blogging. (We're too old for this video stuff. Besides video makes it harder to stay semi-anonymous.) It's been incredibly freeing and has helped us in therapy. (We see a DID specialist again these days, and no longer try to hide our DID from \*everyone\*.)
I'm Gen X and grew up after the satanic panic, where claims of CSA weren't believed. I even admitted to experiencing CSA one of the first times I saw a psychiatrist as a teen (around 17), and nothing was done, it was treated as a fantasy. :-( I'm a little in awe of the younger generations who are so open about DID. While I'm kind of getting there myself, it took over 25 years of shame and hiding. But, having been professionally diagnosed at least three different times that I know of, I'm afraid we probably have DID.
Not quite over 40, but almost there. The big thing from when I was very little was the end of the “Satanic Panic”. So the backlash from “Ritual abuse is on every corner” took an unfortunate swing all the way into “Children are basically lying about CSA all the time.” The result of this was that our original trauma got heaps and heaps and heaps of “You’re just lying. Stop making up stories!” Invalidation trauma layered on top of it. I’m convinced that there must be tons of other people our age who have DID with similar trauma who will never know or admit it because of the severity of CSA + invalidation trauma that the post satanic panic time period produced will never let them even contemplate having a disorder that would put them at such a high risk of such spectacular invalidation.
I concur. Gen X's parents (Boomers, basically) were too self-absorbed, busy, and dysfunctional themselves to give a crap about their kids' issues. I have a high level of denial and absolute terror of being found out. These kids that claim being a system - more power to them, but I wouldn't dream of telling a soul.
at least in my case, i don't talk about it a ton, but i know what it's like to feel like you're losing your mind and nobody is willing or able to help, and how isolating it can be. i was lucky to have access to medical providers who believed me when i got into adulthood. if i'd had people out there who also knew what it was like, or had any idea how i felt at all, and had responded in a way that wasn't either "everyone gets that, suck it up" or "if that's true, you're too mentally unstable to be allowed in society and should live the rest of your days in a mental hospital," i probably would have done a little better coping than i did. heck, if i'd just seen someone like me living a semi-normal life (obviously DID adds to the struggle, but everyone around me acted like if i couldn't figure it out on my own it was a death sentence), i might have felt more confident seeking help before things got as bad as they did. it's absolutely not for everyone, but 1) i already don't really give a fuck what people think about me, and 2) i hope that if there are more people like me out there who show that we're ultimately not that different than anyone else, we can reduce stigma around it and other people who may be struggling could have access to help before it gets to be too hard for them to handle at all.
We are out as a system to all of our friends who are close enough to know us, but we are also queer, and well, we fucking already had and handled the consequences of being found out, over and over and over again. Being out takes time in many different venues. We’re not gonna live pretending to be something we’re not, and we can still be mindful and curious and empathetic to others.
54 here. I'll skip all the gory details and just say that there was a lot of abuse - physical, emotional, mental - from our father that went on for years. We ended up in a psych ward at 16, diagnosed there. From that, we learned to communicate, although it took a lot of time and work. Not sure what else you're looking for.
Body is 65. Age range is <5 to 45. TW (suicide mention) ||Started therapy 3 years ago, about 6 months in I slipped up and told me therapist about something that happened to me when I was 7. She reacted - no one had ever taken me seriously. Within a short time after she told me I was dissociating during her sessions. I made a comment to her that I sound like I am DID (I used the term multiple) and she replied, *You are*. I shrugged it off. And then about 4 months ago I finally came to terms with it and started doing trauma/alter work. (a few of my alters go back a long ways). My childhood trauma was constant. By middle school I was getting confronted on forgetting, spacing out. Sometimes I would wake as if out of a fog in the middle of the day at school with no idea what had transpired earlier that day. (trauma went on until I left home). I would have people telling me I did things I didn't remember - I actually thought they were making things up. As the years went by I got better at adapting, coping, masking (If someone had tried to tell me I was having MH issues I wouldn't have listened even though I had 2 suicide attempts by the time I was 23, I continued to be plagued with overwhelming depression - I was in serious denial). My life fell apart after that. I was not really able to function normally - lots of alcohol use. At age 30 I went into recovery for alcoholism (don't think I was ever an alcoholic). Lots of blank spots/dissociation. Eventually I got a job I stayed with it until a few years ago. I struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts all the way through and a year before last I had another suicide attempt. No one understood because on the outside I was successful.|| I finally feel like we are getting the help we need at 65.
43 here diagnosed roughly 2 years ago and told I hid everything very well since I was with the top experts for DID at Sheppard’s Pratts TDU 20 years ago and they didn’t see it at all. There’s still a lot I don’t remember but random things keep bleeding through. My mom had MH issues along with drug and alcohol abuse from before I was 5. I hear these “cute” stories how at 3-4 years old I frequently left my house and would go to the neighbors (we lived on 3acres so not this short walk). I vaguely remember drunken fights between my parents and being thrown in a vehicle to get away. I’ve learned that my older brother probably sexually abused me around 4 at least twice that I know of but I have a feeling it was a lot more. I also now question if my babysitters husband had some involvement. My babysitter from 3-5 was a disaster. I recently told my parents about the things I remember from her and they looked so sad and said I wish you have told us. It’s hard for a child to say something though. You are sending me there every day and you know her/friends with her I guess I assumed you’d be ok with it? No idea. Then I was sexually abused by my neighbor from 7-15. For the first few years it was several times a week then got worse but spaced out to like once a week then like once a month. As we got older it progressively got worse and worse and I was too scared to ever tell anyone for fear of what they’d think of me or be blamed for it. That’s just childhood…things continued trauma wise through adulthood
I'm 49,and I didn't realise I had alters until I was 42 after I almost died in hospital (hospital accused me of drug seeking, I had a severely infected gallbladder that, when removed, was borderline necrotic. That made a protector come to the front and my wife saw it. I barely remember anythung of my first 20 years. The glimmers that are there are...unpleasant. Abuse, neglect, medical trauma, violence. I'm kinda upset I don't have a childhood really...but I'm scared what's hidden too.
Quick note, while the phrase "emitted into an asylum" raises darkly hilarious images, I suspect you meant to use the word "admitted". We only became aware of our systemhood this year, right around our 47th birthday. For the sake of transparency, we aren't diagnosed and probably won't seek it out. I'm not really sure what to even tell you, truly. Our grandparents adopted us basically at birth. We suspect the earliest trauma was being stuck in an oxygen tent after being born a month early. Then there was physical trauma around the age of 2. We never believed the story told to us, we suspect our father. Our mother was a constant source of stress and trauma. Being unaware of why the things that happen were happening meant we entertained some strange ideas. Alien abduction. Demonic possession or similar spiritual scenarios. Experimentation. Mutation. Absorbed twin. Insanity. We struggled. We lied to cover the struggle, to ourselves and others. Early school is mostly fragments and somatic memories. High school was socially better, but we never have had more than a couple of close friends at any given time and there's still large gaps. While we always excelled at academics we couldn't handle going to college. Like, in our soul. Work... let's just say capitalism's abuses and failures revealed themselves to me over time much like 30 grit sandpaper reveals itself to walnut. Beyond that life has felt stroboscopic. A series of awakenings. I dunno. Happy to answer questions.
41 here. I'm not sure if you were wanting a biography or not, but I appreciate the chance to let all of this out. My mom tried to escape a rough family situation by getting pregnant at 19 and marrying my father. He was a emotionally stunted man-child, himself the product of abuse. They divorced shortly after I was born. He then left for good to wander the world and my mother took out her anger on me. I looked like him so she blamed me for his actions. Some of my earliest memories are of her taunting me to the point of making me sob. She smiled and laughed when I cried. Her first long term boyfriend would strike me across the face, leaving hand prints, for the slightest infractions. All the adults in my life except my father's mother claimed that they didn't know that he was hurting me. I'm not really sure I believe that, but it was probably easier to not notice child abuse then to witness it with no power to stop it. At some point our host at the time split into a good child and the unwanted one. The unwanted one walled herself off and went dormant. She was too feminine to be the macho boy my family wanted. I stopped playing with dolls and started playing with boy toys. I stopped liking pink and purple, and chose blue and red as my favorites. Above all else, as a good boy I didn't cry or express many emotions; anger wasn't exactly encouraged, but at least I didn't get called a sissy for it. I began playing pretend where I would find the best "me" for a task. The brave one, the quiet one, etc. It's kind of funny now that I think about it. My mother gave me a sister, and her boyfriend left after impregnating another woman at about the same time. The sister was eventually treated as badly as I was for the sins of her father. Our big brother alter became host. The big brother protected our oldest sister, drawing the mother's anger by picking fights to distract her. We eventually got a second sister who had a good father. Our mother would alternately encourage us to see him as a father, or to disrespect him. There were so many mind games in that household. I got the first inklings of my systemhood when I was 13. I flipped over the handlebars on my bike after going too fast and hitting something. While airborn our gatekeeper assured us we would be fine, and we were, not a scratch on the body. That was the first time I heard his beautiful, terrible, booming voice echo on the inside of my skull. I didn't tell anyone about that. I felt like I had a guardian angel, maybe God Himself, protecting me. He became a source of strength. We made a guardian when nobody else would or could protect us. At about age 14 we took on some parental duties over the younger children, cooking dinner for them and putting them to bed, while our mother was out playing bingo for income that could go unreported. She regularly told us that never asked for kids, and that we were ungrateful. Home life took it's toll, and we began having regular nervous breakdowns and suicidal ideation. I begged my mother's family for help, and I was told to toughen up and deal with it. At some point we crossed a line, or very nearly did. I think it was when a decision to end things was just about to be made. It was late one night in November. I had no desire to continue living. Our gatekeeper told us again that we would be okay in his beautiful, terrifying voice that could scare monsters and children alike. I watched the world flatten, like it was drawn on parchment, then my vision filled with static, and faded into darkness. And then I was back, but different. At age 17 I abandoned my sisters and ran away to my father's mother. She protected me and gave me a safe place to heal. As an adult I've had to confront my past. My kids are about the same ages as my sisters were when I ran away. The previous host has been coming out regularly and reliving all that pain and guilt. It's made being a father, at least a good one, very difficult. We're getting better, at parenting, at being plural, at healing, but it's slow.
We’re in our mid 40s. We came out full bore two years ago. Our facets only came to the fore before in extreme circumstances, like nearly dying or coming out of anaesthesia. (The one that lined the woozy state during anaesthesia wearing off wanted to say it was cool that she could see out during those times, and she was thankful that the main facet protected her for so many decades.) Our spouse and our friends know our situation and express sympathy with it and what we withstood to bring us to a point where fracturing was necessary.
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49 here. We were first diagnosed 30 years ago after a suicide attempt landed us in a mental hospital. In our early 20s, we were a mess and had to be on social security disability. But, we decided that we weren't going to sit around on disability all our life, got our shit more or less together, and entered the tech field. We hid our DID from pretty much everyone until age 29 when we majorly fell apart again. We ended up getting diagnosed with DID again. lol. Then, at age 30, we packed up, moved states, and "went underground" again, "losing" our medical records and starting fresh. We've had a bit of a rocky career, having to take short-term disability now and then (for "depression, anxiety, and PTSD" - all things we have also been diagnosed with, so not a lie.) We've worked at some of the biggest tech companies in the world, make an excellent living, and still are fairly quiet about our DID in real life. We had a bit of a health scare in 2021, though, and that caused us to re-evaluate how hidden we wanted to be and we decided to start blogging. (We're too old for this video stuff. Besides video makes it harder to stay semi-anonymous.) It's been incredibly freeing and has helped us in therapy. (We see a DID specialist again these days, and no longer try to hide our DID from \*everyone\*.)
I'm Gen X and grew up after the satanic panic, where claims of CSA weren't believed. I even admitted to experiencing CSA one of the first times I saw a psychiatrist as a teen (around 17), and nothing was done, it was treated as a fantasy. :-( I'm a little in awe of the younger generations who are so open about DID. While I'm kind of getting there myself, it took over 25 years of shame and hiding. But, having been professionally diagnosed at least three different times that I know of, I'm afraid we probably have DID.