My entire life all at once

My memories going back quite early, to maybe 5 or 6 years old, are doubled. Two little girls. Inside each of these girls was a system of parts, a system of strategies, and each constellation of parts was protecting against what that little girl could not afford to know. These constellations of strategies, repeated over and over again, formed the basis of a personality. The two little girls grew up, had experiences, tried hard not to know what they could not know, and whenever it was necessary, whenever the knowledge was donning, bearing down, they would switch.

I always said I didn’t have amnesia because I didn’t lose time. But in fact there are many ways to forget, many ways not to know. There are many ways to smooth the transition of two girls living one life. It isn’t always seamless, but the dissociation blurs the edges. I understand why it feels like a haunting. To know that the other you made these decisions, to find yourself inside an unfamiliar life that you would not have chosen. To arrive at the consequences of actions that make no sense to you.

Janina Fisher says that the symptoms tell the story better than you can. What a relief to finally stop trying to prove something so obvious as to be undeniable. I read a brilliant writer recently who described denial as an active form of dissociation. What a gorgeous insight. My family fortifies the dissociation. They collude with it. They insist upon it. The difference between them and me is that I am doing everything in my power to face the truth. No matter what it costs me.

These two little girls grew up to be women and they have each had their own lives, inside the same life, inside the same body.