OK, well not really the beginning, more like the middle and then I’ll go to the beginning. When I was in my 20’s I started therapy mainly because it was a group for adult children of dysfunctional families or alcoholics, I forget which one. Off and on for about 5 years I worked with a therapist on abuse issues, self esteem, blah blah blah. I remember hating to dive into all those memories but hey I did it and it helped at least for a while. I was doing well with work in the “real world”. I got jobs and promotions that people would tell me there was no way I would get but I surprised them all and kept rising. Life was good.

Brain Tumor?

When I was in my late 20s I thought for sure I had a brain tumor. The weirdest things kept happening and that was the only explanation I could think of. Actually, looking back on that time some of those stories are actually funny.

I can remember driving my little red stick shift that I was so proud of. I bought it before I even knew how to drive a stick shift and pretty much stop/jerked/drove it home. Anyway I got much better at driving it and didn’t stall out much anymore except for when “the brain tumor” kicked in. I would be driving along and then all of a sudden my hand would have a mind of its own and shift me out of gear. Unfortunately my foot wasn’t using the same brain so the gears protested. 

   Another thing that always thrilled me was forgetting who people were. I can remember someone stopping me to talk and I knew I should know who they were, especially since they were talking about the dinner we had had at their house a few nights before. Hm-mm was too young for alzhiemers so the brain tumor struck again.

   Finally the fear and depression had gotten to the point where I knew I needed to do something about it soooooo back to therapy.

  I started thereapy with an excellent therapist, Jackie. She was a great listener, compassionate and most of all she was blind, literally.  I felt comfortable with her. I could talk about anything with ease because she wasn’t staring me in the face. Everything went well until the second visit. The second visit I went in as before and took a seat. She asked how things were going and then the room started to get dark, and darker until I couldnt see anything. The next thing I knew her audivle clock was announcing the time and the session had ended. What the hell just happened? Ok so I was a little, no ALOT freaked but too scared to say anything so I just gave her my check and wrote down the time of my next appointment.

The Truth…

  The next appointment I went in, sat down, went to respond to her “how are things going” and faded to black again. I thought oh hell, Ive been here before. This used to happen when I was a kid.  Everything would fade to black and then either someone would be yelling my name or my mom would get pissed cause I was “staring through her” again. I didnt understand it when I was a kid and I sure as hell didn’t understand it then. Fortunately I heard Jackie saying my name before the clock announced the time. She asked how I was doing so I told her I was freaked and why. She didn’t seem phased at all in fact she just smiled and let me talk. This woman, who couldnt even see me knew exactly what was happening, she just was waiting for me to say something. She then explained to me what MPD was and suddenly things that been happening since I was a kid finally made sense.

The Journey…