Identities Crisis

Originally a photo essay for my Photography class in college, it has been made a featured page on this website. The next body of text is not from me, but written by my mom for this project:

We all dissociate some times. That familiar car ride home, when you arrive home without remembering the trip.

We all have different “sides” we present to the world, depending on the expectations of our audience.

Dissociation… Personalities… these are things I’ve come to believe exist on a continuum - like so many other things in life. My existence just happens to be closer to one end of the continuum than probably say...yours. It is unusual – as much of my life is – and is one that happens to fascinate most people, although my individual experience does not mirror the familiar Hollywood depiction of DID.

For example, I am not now – nor have I ever been – a serial killer. And although highly developed individuals who enjoy being recognized as such, my folks have a ‘Shannon’ job to do, and when in a ‘Shannon’ context will present as ‘Shannon’ – but all the while using THEIR tools to meet whatever is expected of me in any given moment. Only in cases of extreme distress do they cast aside their role, at which time there may be a violent takeover that is otherwise left to private or anonymous moments.

The chaos started because there was an event that brought down the protective walls I’d built in my mind where My Crew resided. I became ‘co-conscious’, which means there is an interior awareness of what is happening, but it is like watching a movie down a long tunnel with no ability to affect any behavior. I was overwhelmed and unable to identify what was happening in my head. I was terrified that I was losing my grip on reality altogether. So many times when the walls first came down in my head, I found myself staring into the eyes in the mirror – especially at work – and wondering who was staring back. Or wonder if any of it was real.

It took quite some time to sort it out, but initially we discovered three, then five, and for a very long time my committee settled into what my family lovingly referred to as Eight Is Enough. Eventually, we stopped counting and separating as very early parts were discovered to be fragmented, and over years of therapy other parts elected to “retire” – which is the term they seem to prefer over “integration”.

The strongest personalities remain, and most have settled into a somewhat peaceful coexistence. Reconciliation could not begin for them until I accepted these people were real and a valuable part of me that I had to learn to appreciate.

This is not just my story. Although my family has assured me of their relatively healthy childhoods, it has made many things make much more sense to them. This has been an extraordinary journey for them as well - especially for my husband and my son. My husband is my hero, my son in an artist and this is his means of expressing our incredible journey. I think I don’t have many “hard switches” anymore, but my family does inform me of events I have no memory of on a regular basis, and although it’s only a few times a week now it still rattles me whenever it happens. I’m mostly aware of “blends” – my term for parts’ personality traits that bleed through my own on occasion. I’ve settled mostly back into what my family lovingly refers to as The Big Five. You are about to meet some of them now…

Sophie is one of my most popular parts. She was popular in the hard partying days of my early 20’s, but has aged since she’s been out more often in recent years. She is now in her late 20’s but is just as adventurous, athletic and outdoorsy as ever. She is a cowgirl with a southern drawl that loves physical challenges and is the flirty life of the party. I sometimes sense that she and the athletic one may have once been different parts, but they are one in the same now. She loves to chew gum, has a heart of gold, a bit of a potty mouth, and thinks she can still eat and drink with abandon until she is reminded that we don’t exercise as she often as she assumes we do. She is the adult who watches over and “helps” Tori. She will wear her hair down straight for special occasions, but she prefers a high pony tail.

Viktoria (and don’t call her Vicki) is a sorority sister. She is all about manners, etiquette and appearances. She is also a protector/enforcer. She “gets things done”, like some of the others, but gets is done with more class, more panache according to her. She likes nice things - especially shoes, jewelry, coats and bags – and dresses to the nines. She has a mild southern drawl when it suits her and she resents not being able to use seduction as a means of manipulation anymore. She has an eating disorder and often goes with only one small meal for days – enough to work out. She is disgusted by the lack of discipline revealed in the gained weight that has been put on over the years.

She is most infuriated when lost weight from the lack of eating boomerangs into starvation mode weight gain upon resuming a healthy eating schedule again. My weight has trended down for years and been fairly stable until her “starvation” tantrums in the last few. I’m currently on an upswing, and while discouraging, she was HIGHLY involved in which of her pictures were used, and more than a little unhappy. She was also unhappy with the fussy look of her hair, which is usually worn down straight and shiny or finely coiffed in soft curls. She is the one who thinks this all needs to be explained.

Although I came to consider this part just a Vikortia trait, I initially called the perfect housewife and homemaker Alice. In recent months, she has made herself known as an individual again. There was enough cross over that just it felt easier to refer to her as Viktoria. Mainly because she dressed up, but not to the nines, was without jewelry and her hair was always back or up, while Viktoria’s hair is usually down. She usually rocks the sexy librarian look.

Tori is short for Viktoria, but she is never referred to that way. She is five and the picture of childhood innocence and wonder. She always happy, babbles incessantly, loves to color and is great at skipping. She loves to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches but DOES NOT like healthy peanut butter because “it’s too oily and then too dry so it never tastes right since it’s never mixed good.” (all in one breath). She is mildly annoyed by that and her bread restriction because of my Celiac disease, so we have come to a compromise on healthy, but smooth, no-stir peanut butter mixed with smashed berries in a cup.

Occasionally we’ll splurge and make a sandwich with pancakes. That makes her very happy. She loves Danny and the Dinosaur and the big men and little girls in her family. Mrs. Debby and Mr. Jeff are also her friends. Tori is left handed and can write the whole alphabet, upper and lower case. She usually wears her hair in two low pony tails.

JacLyn is a protector and a genuine bad ass. She is in her mid 30’s and initially went by Jacks and was thought to be a man. However, it was later revealed that she was just a very tough woman and asexual in nature. She smokes and swears and loves whiskey, although she has given up the former and latter for the greater good, they are still the first things she looks for when she’s out. She tries to watch her mouth around kids, but doesn’t often come out around children even though she likes them. She and Sophie ruled the day during those partying years.

She also hates bullies and is a champion of justice, and has gotten in (and won) several fights in various venues in the name of justice – or so I’m told. I remember few. I know she’s hurt people I care about when she felt cornered by them. Injustice in her perception, means she was often just easily offended or had a hair trigger. She tended to swing first and ask questions later. She is at home in a run-down biker bar but she has a heart of gold. My boss, one of the first to knowingly meet JacLyn, was admittedly shaken upon their initial interaction, but he eventually earned her grudging respect, although she still likes to push his buttons for fun. She likes my son’s sarcasm and he is the only one that can jokingly refer to her as “Jackee.” She also appreciates my husband becoming a safe person for me – one that she has learned to trust as well – because it’s allowed her to relax a bit. She’s considered mostly retired, although I feel she will always be ready in the background if she’s ever needed.

Teeny & Sweetie

Many of my Littles are fragments of parts. I’ve never really been sure if Teeny and Sweetie are two parts or one in the same. They are both pre-verbal, so developed from a VERY young age. One is completely mute. And one hides behind a blanket. She might play a version of peek-a-boo with just her eyes. The blanket is usually over her head and she often sleeps with her butt up in the air. Child’s pose anyone?

I also have a part that is Death or Suicide. It is just there as the ultimate out, if the pain can’t be escaped any other way. I cannot put into words how I know it’s a part and not me with suicidal ideation. My therapist could probably help you.

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I have parts that draw, parts that dance…I sometimes don’t know where they end and I begin.

This seems too weird to be true and in a real sense is really all in my head. Why I can’t decide it’s just not real and stop doing it…well, it just doesn’t matter anymore. It is what it is. I’m told it’s a creative way to cope, learned as a child. My brain has learned to deal with trauma this way. Now I have to teach them it’s no longer necessary and I – a 50 year old woman – I got this now.