Day 24: DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder)

DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) 
Cas Reeves 2019
 
She broke in two, then four, then six,
So with her shell
There was seven in her Hell.
To give words written
To past bees bitten
Seems unforgivable,
Insane,
Or a narcissistic revelation of pain.
Fat caterpillars eating milkweed
And drinking pink Nesquik.
Say to 3:
It’s okay the rabbits are all eaten.
No hawk will swoop down and pull your belly out.
God will not tear you apart.
The fog of drugs,
The weight of chemicals,
Medication like a thousand sinkers
Weighing down body and brain.
To move is pain and sadness.
To live is effort and defeat.
Alone in my crowded mind
To live again?
Impossible.
Branded, labelled insane.
I am a broken butterfly.
No wings, no symmetry,
No dancing in the breeze.
Drugged, doped, imprisoned
Destroyed, decimated, detained by drugs.
Straitjacketed by Lithium and Seroquel.
I name my captors.
3 cries, Gun screams,
Snow reasons while Red rages
Imp is so broken she cannot dance now,
And Mumma barely breathes
I pray, God, somehow, somehow?
There isn’t time or space to explain my experience of DID (dissociative identity disorder), but this poem gathers together some of the complicated strings that make up my alters. You don’t need to understand, worry or fear. We all have sides to our personalities; mine are just more defined. I am one soul despite all this, and that soul is saved eternally by the blood of the Lamb. I am so thankful for my faith; it holds this inner circus together.

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