If Only I Could Remember
Holidays bring family around reminiscing days of old. Which sucks for people with DID.
At our Christmas Eve dinner, I stopped counting how many times someone asked me if I remembered when…. But I couldn’t remember. My siblings started staring at me strangely. I couldn’t be a part of the conversation and none of my alters were helping me out. It was pretty sobering.
The past is such a mystery to me. Now, I’m grateful to know I have been dealing with DID my whole life. I can say I understand when I can’t remember something that happened in the past. I understand that I just wasn’t myself, I was someone else. That someone else carries the memories and if I really need them, I’m sure I will be reminded. Maybe those memories will help me to heal. Maybe they just need to stay where they are.
Waiting to remember,
P.S.: I hope you remember your positive childhood holidays.
“Help us to remember that our days are numbered, and help us to interpret our lives correctly. Set your wisdom deeply in our hearts so that we may accept your correction.“