Dissociative Identity Disorder: The Hard Road to Diagnosis

Who doesn’t know the inner voices that like to speak out, especially before important decisions – and thus represent completely opposing views. We all have different parts of our personality that don’t always pull together. But what if the whole thing doesn’t just happen in our heads, but is so pronounced that we consist of several distinct personalities? Then we speak of a “dissociative Identity disorder“. But what is it like to be many?

The Bonnies know this very well, they have “dissociative identity disorder” and speak up Social media about how this shapes their lives. They themselves do not know exactly how many people the Bonnies are – new parts keep coming to light. But the whole thing only becomes really tangible when you get to know a few of them, when you hear them speak and see that there are really different characters living in one person. Four of the Bonnies have taken us exclusively into their world of thoughts. In the next few days we will learn Tessa, IsaFiona and 46 get to know each other a little better. Let’s start with Fiona.

I’m Fiona and I’m in my late 20s, so a bit older than the body I live in. He’s 24 years old. And that’s been going on for quite a long time. How it works? I live with “Dissociative Identity Disorder” (DID). This means that I share my body with many other personalities, which used to be called multiple personality disorder. The diagnosis was initially an attack for me; I felt reduced to the illness. That’s why I prefer to use the term “dissociative identity structure” today. We are not illnesses, but people and have a different personality structure than other people due to sick living conditions. What makes DID a disease is the suffering, the limitations and the extent to which it affects our lives.

For me, it is very normal to be many. I don’t know it any other way. Ever since I can remember, I have known that there are others inside me because I can see them. But I don’t really have contact with them. This (often) difficult coexistence inside, which is not always as harmonious as you might imagine, has always been just as relevant to me as everything that happens in the outside world. It doesn’t matter whether I am inside or at the front of my body, both are part of my life. Being at the front means that I am the person taking action. Both are real to me and can be equally painful. I don’t make any distinction.

I think that overall I can endure more than most of us. I have an intense access to some of our traumas, which is sometimes very difficult. That’s why I always enjoy the time in the body because then I can have new experiences. There are also more feelings than just trauma, trauma, trauma. Through contact with other people, I am not alone with my thoughts and can communicate. I enjoy that very much.

The first step to diagnosis

In the past, I was mainly at the front in trauma situations. I am one of those parts that remembers some of the trauma and was often at the front in those moments. And I carry a very large part of it. That is sometimes overwhelming, and I sometimes feel really alone with it.

On the other hand, this awareness gives me a lot of knowledge about our past. Everyday life, however, never existed in my memory – I was only able to get to know it much later. Sometimes I still envy the everyday people here in the body because they live their lives without being aware of anything that has happened to us in the past. They were created so that we can cope with everyday life and are therefore cut off from our traumas and sometimes still think that we lead a life without experiencing violence. They didn’t choose this themselves either. But: For a while it really pissed me off.

That was also the reason why at some point I wrote a message to our everyday people in the diary, which shook some of them up and was the first step towards making a diagnosis. I wrote: “If you don’t speak, you won’t be heard. So I scream because the rest of you are silent. Your silence doesn’t undo my past. It just means that, unlike you, I will never have a future. You decide: your life “To live your illusion for a long time and thereby expose numerous others of us to violence. Or to face the truth and learn together what living really means.”

You have to know that back then, everyday people were completely isolated from everything inside and from trauma. They didn’t know what had happened to us and didn’t want to know anything about it at first. And then suddenly I got into everyday life. That wasn’t really my job; after all, I was responsible for taking charge of the trauma. But then I started writing things down and taking them with me to therapy. As a result, everyday people also had to take a look at some point.

How does life actually work without dreams?

But trauma is still my main task today. None of us chose our purpose; we emerged as a survival mechanism and fulfill that purpose in different ways. And there is still too little awareness, both among ourselves and outsiders, about what makes one person many and what happens within us. If I have the feeling that we are not seen or understood outside, whether at the doctor, in therapy or in everyday situations with friends or strangers, then I usually speak up. Then I explain and name things as they are. I made that a bit of a task for myself a few years ago when we started to look at what was actually going on with us.

The biggest challenge for me was getting along in everyday life. Until a few years ago, I only knew trauma. The first time I experienced safety, I didn’t even know how to use a kettle. I didn’t know shopping and having friends, let alone how to communicate with them. And I still often realize: I actually have no idea how life works here. So I learn how to live every day. And I was able to learn that people can also be safe. I have fond memories of how I met our friends. To every single first meeting. It was totally crazy to me that being close to people can also feel good.

When we were still exposed to violence, I always tried to defend myself. It never worked; it only encouraged some perpetrators even more. I tried anyway – for the illusion of self-determination. Today I am just glad that the past is in the past and I enjoy every minute in my body. Most of the time I just live in the moment and am happy when I can spend my time with people I love. Everything else is secondary. Ultimately, though, what I long for most is peace and quiet.

What I hope for in the future is more awareness from us and outsiders. And that we (and all those affected) are listened to more. It would also be great if trauma was no longer a taboo subject in society. Bad things happen every day and all over the world. Those affected can only be helped if people pay attention. I always think to myself that I didn’t survive this for nothing. I have to do something with this experience – and if I can’t heal us, then I at least want to do something for other affected people.

This protocol is the first part of a four-part series on the topic of “Dissociative Personality Disorder”. We believe that in order to even begin to understand what it feels like to be “many”, you should listen to more than just one of the personality parts. That’s why we’re letting four of the Bonnies have their say – and they’re taking us into their world. In the next part, we’ll get to know Isa. She’s one of the everyday people – and was therefore quite surprised when she found out that there’s so much more inside her than her own world of thoughts.

This is part one of the series.
You can find part two of the series here.
Part three of the series can be found here.
Part four of the series can be found here.

recorded by Leonie Zimmermann