#disorder

All of us carry around countless bags of dusty old knickknacks dated from childhood: collected resentments, long list of wounds of greater or lesser significance, glorified memories, absolute certainties that later turn out to be wrong. Humans are emotional pack rats. These bags define us. ↗

— Marya Hornbacher

#dating

It is now recognised that dissociation is a way of forgetting, for a time. The mind siphons off the bad memories into a separate part, and reclaiming those hidden-away memories us a complex process. So, when the memories resurface it does not feel as though they belong to you, it feels alien, more as if someone had told them to you, or you had seen the images in a film. ↗

— Carolyn Bramhall

#derealisation #dissociation #dissociative-identity-disorder #memories #mpd

You hurt her by starving yourself, you hurt her with your lies, and by fighting everybody who tries to help you. Emma can only sleep a couple of hours a night now. She's haunted by nightmares of monsters that eat our whole family. They eat us slowly, she says, so we can feel their sharp teeth. ↗

— Laurie Halse Anderson

#family

Identity confusion is defined by the SCID-D as a subjective deeling of uncertainty, puzzlement, or conflict about one's own identity. Patients who report histories of childhood trauma characteristically describe themese of ongoing inner struggle regarding their identity; of inner battles for survival; or other images of anger, conflict, and violence. ↗

— Marlene Steinberg

#dissociative #dissociative-identity-disorder #dsm #mental-health #multiple-personality-disorder

I failed eating, failed drinking, failed not cutting myself into shreds. Failed friendship. Failed sisterhood and daughterhood. Failed mirrors and scales and phone calls. Good thing I'm stable. ↗

— Laurie Halse Anderson

#friendship

Jenny couldn't believe herself a multiple. She was a mother, a nurse, not that screwball who appeared on the screen like some dysfunctional figment of her imagination trying to find a life. Still, she was coming to a realization that accepting who she was would be the jailer's key to liberate her from this cuckoo's nest. ↗

— Judy Byington

#dissociative-identity-diroder #mpd #multiplicity #multipple-personality-disorder #trauma-experiences

When you are mad, mad like this, you don't know it. Reality is what you see. When what you see shifts, departing from anyone else's reality, it's still reality to you. ↗

— Marya Hornbacher

#madness #manic-depression #mental-illness #reality #life

I wish I had cancer. I will burn in hell for that, but it's true. ↗

— Laurie Halse Anderson

#cancer

If I can't feel, if I can't move, if I can't think, and I can't care, then what conceivable point is there in living? ↗

— Kay Redfield Jamison

#depression #mood-disorders #care

I feel like I'm a snow globe and someone shook me up and now every little piece of me is falling back randomly and nothing is ending up where it used to be. ↗

— Amy Reed

#random