Guest Blog Post: dissociative identity disorder by Mike (And the gang)

Disclaimer: I know virtually nothing about Dissociative identity disorder (DiD). How about you?

Thanks to Mike and his inner family’s courageous blog (which includes informative posts like this), I’ve gratefully gained a bit of awareness. Perhaps you, dear reader, will take the time to learn too…

Mike (And the gang) blog from the Northeast U.S.. They say of their site: “We live with Dissociative Identity Disorder. We are a close-knit family system whose mission is to educate and entertain others about the reality of what it means to live with DiD. We invite you to our website and to learn more about us! You can interact us with there, as well, if you like. Most in our family love making new friends.”

According to them, “…every human on Earth has multiple personalities. We all talk to ourselves; Have internal dialogues.”

In trying to understand, I asked what they thought of this mainstream online definition of DiD. They answered, “The descriptions of DiD are always…”Sterile.” Describing DiD from a medical perspective is completely different from the subjective experiencing of it. While science claims that alters are defense mechanisms, living with alters and becoming them – they aren’t defense mechanisms. They are individuals with their own thoughts, feelings, agendas, and disposition(s). It’s much more complicated and delicate than what’s being described in medically sterile terms….1% of the population? We would say those numbers are wrong, a bit high. Many people who claim to have DiD are actually misdiagnosed by doctors who don’t understand the disorder. Also, many therapists will erroneously suggest DiD or alters to a patient.”

Mike (And the gang)’s daughter, Katy Mae, describes the experience of a dominant split, “which can be a terrifying and mystifying experience to have,” here…

Image by Mike (And the gang) of Kayleigh with her pigtails in.

“Streetlights” by Katy Mae

Streetlights pass but time stands still; Mouths move but with no sound,

There are no longer, my memories, to hold on to; Disappeared in the night.

Not able to shiver, not able to cry,

This night is different but there have been many like it.

A blank stare, a whisper in the night,

lights pass in the night; Mouths move but there aren’t words -Just noise.

Who are we now, with no destination; no place to call home,

red lights pass in a blur; my own comfort to a place unknown.

There are no longer dreams, no more nightmares in this place

memories slip away while faster cars pass.

Who are we now and why must we go,

another stop away from nowhere.

The radio plays, my favorite song whose title I can’t recall,

not that it matters; My former life is now gone.

Replaced with a ghost whose name no one knows,

There’s no time to breathe, no time to whisper for help.

No longer awake, no longer asleep; Who are we now?

life, oh life, it comes to a halt while I still breathe.

Where are we now; I’ve forgotten my name again,

remember it, whoever I become; Whom I fear the most.

No one to hug as we travel alone in our world; This cold, lonely place,

still someone speaks; Still, just noise and static.

I’d rather stare ahead and forget who I am becoming,

please don’t stop; The passing lights are an illusion of escape.

Who are we now and where are we going; your voice has changed,

the sun is rising and I can’t remember my name,

How did I end up in this cold dark car,

and why with you; Who are you?

Missing Dear Mooshie Cat by da-AL

The world is better for having had Mooshie Cat in it.

Dear, dear Mooshie, you are sorely missed. Time with one’s loved ones is never long enough, but how very much I wish I’d had just one more time with you to say goodbye, to thank you for being such an incredible little mate.

You were the spiritual mother of my husband. I know this because you took your self-appointed role quite seriously. That first meeting, you signaled to my soul-mate that he was yours. You reached your arm clear to your armpit, past the shelter cage bars, to swat at him. Repeatedly. Moreover, you sent your angel/employee (who also worked for Southeast Area Animal Control Authority (SEAACA), to urge us that your days were numbered.

You arrived home cuddled in my honey’s arms. You lay in his lap for hours, your locomotive purring tireless. As soon as you made it clear that you were family, you’d stand on your hind legs to slam a hefty (albeit with claws sheathed) kangaroo one-two punch at your sister, whenever your human son would pet her for even a second.

Now your spirit, whether in heaven or reincarnated, must be playing soccer. You’d command your ‘son” (you considered me a lousy player) to lob crumpled paper balls your way, for you to whack-whack-whack them across the room and back to him.

Eventually, you graduated to batting crickets — then mice — then small birds. I doubt our local tiny critters mourns your loss as we do. Your later choice to retire to my mother’s bed must have cause them to celebrate. Not so for my mother’s gentleman cat who you evicted from his formerly cozy stead.

Until all but the last few weeks of your seventeen-ish years, despite your loss of all but one tooth, your appetite was vigorous. From Cheerios and crackers to olives and cucumbers, you enjoyed everything so long as your beloved people dined on it too.

Your long-departed sister, for whom you had neither patience nor fondness,  allowed anyone to pet her. You, unlike her, saved your affection for just your intimates.

You made us feel truly special, dear Mooshie. You, our lovely girl, were the most special of cats. Rest in peace, beautiful soul.

Mooshie the Wonder Cat.

Dear reader, here and here and here is more about Mooshie. Do you have a non-human friend you miss a lot?

Guest Blog Post: Rita Rigby’s art by Mark Rigby

Rita Rigby

Of all the abundant beauty and wonder I experienced on our visit to New Zealand and Australia — from New Zealand’s Auckland / Rotorua / Redwoods / Huka Falls / Craters of the Moon / Waitomo Glowworms Caves / Taupo / Pirongia / and Hamilton Gardens — to Australia’s these exciting birds and these / stunning views / delicious eats / this and this wildlife at Currumbin / some beasts and beauty in Brisbane / and enjoyed Sydney this much and that much — my very favorite part of the trip was meeting terrific family in Gold Coast!

An inspiration at any age, cousin Rita Rigby is lovely and vigorous of mind and body. She’s both fun — and a talented artist! After dinner, on the final night of our visit, she (and her granddaughter, Roshan, too!) played the piano for us! In this photo (from left to right: Mark, me, Khashayar, and Roshan), we’re treated to an impromptu performance by Rita! Read on for a little about Rita and her artwork contributed by her son, Mark Rigby…

Rita Rigby Playing Piano

* * Rita Rigby’s art by Mark Rigby * *

Rita was born in 1927 and grew up in a small Queensland country town called Kilkivan. She loved the country life, which is reflected in her paintings. During her school years art was her favourite subject which has remained to this day.

art by Rita Rigby

Two men (drovers) on horseback are herding sheep in the country where I grew up.

art by Rita Rigby

This is an old Eucalypt tree that is synonymous with the countryside that Rita grew up with. It was struck by lightning with regrowth branching out from the main truck.

art by Rita Rigby

The background to this painting is Mount Warning, a significant landmark on the border between Queensland and New South Wales. It was named by Captain Cook, an English explorer who discovered Australia in 1770, to warn of the dangerous river bar near this location. The man is cutting sleepers to construct a railway in the early settlement times.

Do you like to paint?

Does Your Light Frighten You? by da-AL

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Marianne Williamson, activist/author of, “A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A COURSE IN MIRACLES,”
Marianne Williamson, activist/author of “A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A COURSE IN MIRACLES”– Photo by Supearnesh – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0

This famous quote — which surely Williamson is proud of however zillion times it’s attributed to Nelson Mandela — reminds me of how sneaky my fear of success can be. As a kid, I worried that setting myself apart would invite criticism, jealousy, and ostracism. My ultimate goal, I was firmly instructed when my imagination soared, was predetermined. Girls must be cute and sweet so they’d be attractive to boys. Women, I was told, were born to be wives and mothers.

Fears continue to gnaw at me. Now they’re sophisticated, requiring constant vigilance to upend them. Art begs an audience. When art is personal, it’s difficult to not give a damn what others might think, not to mention how wicked my own self-doubt can be. An hour after I was awarded an Emmy, a stranger asked me how the honor felt. My reply was blather. He reminded me that I had indeed won it…

Williamson is correct to point that that being our best benefits everyone. When I’m upset about my goals, I remind myself of her wise words.

Do you ever hold yourself back?

Video: Strength and Compassion in the Worst of Times by da-AL

In the worst situations, strength and compassion shine brightest. Terrible times strip away everything but what’s essential, leaving bare the best in us and those we encounter during our trials. 

The first time I learned the depth of this truth was when I co-produced a video for the Leukemia Society of America (nowadays Leukemia and Lymphoma Society). They’d hired my business partner, David Hunt (who has written for HBT here and here), and me (our non-profit company was called, Vista Educational Media) to encourage therapists, as well as people struggling with leukemia to get involved in the agency’s support groups. Executive Producer was Maureen Nunn. We videotaped at Wellness Community South Bay Cities, which is now Cancer Support Community Redondo Beach. The Los Angeles Times wrote of participant Roger Kahl’s valiant life here.

The way David and I worked was always to let subjects speak their truths, then we’d do our best to edit and narrate accurately. For each project, David and I would alternate who would be in charge and who would assist.

Thank goodness for this one David conducted the interviews, wrote, edited, and narrated. It took all I had not to sob while I stood to videotape behind the tripod. Reviewing it all these many years later, I still cry at the incredible bravery of the interviewees and David’s outstanding storytelling.

On David’s site, he details his experience with this project. Here’s his preliminary description for my site here…

“By the 1990s health educators understood that video-assisted storytelling was an effective way to engage patients and get them involved in their own health care. But many of the nation’s top health organizations, including the Leukemia Society, used actors as stand-ins for actual patients in their health education videos. In 1992 I was part of a documentary team that convinced the organization to trust people with leukemia to share their own stories.”

Happy Spring and Happy Persian New Year plus Video by da-AL

Photo of Nowrooz spread by Katzenfee50 from Pixabay
Image by Katzenfee50 from Pixabay

Spring and the start of any new year are laden with happy promise — those of releasing past griefs and embracing potential good times ahead.

I wish you, dear reader, all the best for this new season that for many countries also marks the start of a new calendar year.

Here’s a speech I did for Toastmasters…

Persian New Year (aka Nowrooz, which is spelled a variety of ways due to varying alphabets) is not (n-o-t) a religious holiday. Moreover, other countries also (a-l-s-o) celebrate it, such as Iraq, Afghanistan, Georgia, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, India, and Albania.

Did you know that Japan celebrates a version of Nowruz?

Have you got plans for Spring?…

Guest Blog Post: “Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t” by Caz

My inner cynic can loom monstrous enough to be laughable. When it skulks, it can be harder to address. Caz, who lives in England, understands that emotions are part of being human. Without being syrupy, without promoting denial, she offers practical help. Her Invisibly Me site deals with living with invisible chronic pain, including living with an ileostomy (not to be confused with a colostomy). Here’s a sample of her best advice…

Graphic: Focus On What You Can Do. Not What You Can't.

Photo of blogger Caz of InvisiblyMe.com
Caz made her first website when she was 13!

I wrote this with chronic illness in mind, but it also applies to other spheres of life, from living arrangements to your financial situation. 

Focussing on what you can’t do. It can become a vicious cycle, leaving us exhausted and disheartened before we even begin. It can happen for various reasons. Looking at how things used to be in the past, such as before chronic illness took hold. It may be from social pressures concerning what we ‘should’ be doing at this point in our lives. It may be from comparing your life to how you thought it would look, or comparing your situation to that of your peers.

For whatever reason, it’s good to work on acknowledging and accepting the situation and what you can’t necessarily change right now. Then, redefine what’s important to you, not what you feel you ‘should’ value or want. Write your own rules. Find new paths to explore and get creative to find ways to get there. Maybe you can’t do certain things, but there will always be options and alternatives. There are always small changes you can make and actions to take to improve your situation or live your best life. You may just have to look a little harder to find them.

It’s also about readjusting expectations and making them more realistic and manageable. Take note of the things you can be grateful for that often get lost in the midst of pain and illness, or stress and worry. It’s about looking at the things you’re good at and the positives you can eek out of your situation and experiences. You’ve become stronger and more resilient. Perhaps you’ve met new people in person or online, such as through blogging or support groups. Maybe you’re more compassionate, empathic, have found a new skill or have become more appreciative of the small joys in life.

When we focus on the negatives, the limitations or the things we can’t change, we give up our power. By honing in on those things you can’t do or have, or the ways in which you feel constrained, it limits your perspective and experiences even more so.

By focusing on the can’t-dos, you’re reducing yourself & your life. You are more than just the things you can’t do. 

Empower yourself by looking at what you can do, no matter how small. Look at the things you can change, the tasks you can accomplish, the things you can choose to do. 

Instead of ‘I can’t do…’, change it to ‘but I can do…’.

You’re doing the best you can, with the cards you’ve been dealt and the situation you find yourself in. A little jiggle of perspective can make a big difference. Don’t close yourself off from possibilities. Instead, think outside the box and take back some control over your life. You may just find that you’re capable of more than you imagined.

– Caz

Visit Caz at her blog and her facebook page and her Instagram.

Blogger Caz of InvisiblyMe.comInvisiblyMe.com logo graphic

How do you deal with invisible pain?…