As a member of a now defined system, meaning we share a common organic body, there are many instances, when we overtake another boudoirs. in the life of singlets this happens and most people adjust on the fly, or become known as full of shit. Either way leaves a lasting impression on the receiver of such stimulus. In the case of a plural system, this appears more fo a train wreck, combined with an earthquake. We have the initial chaos followed by aftershocks that are neither consistent or regular. The inherent contradiction is something that plurality makes us experience perpetually.
many times, especially when meeting someone who we feel has both the depth, and the character to absorb, if even only minutely, the universe in which we exist, we tend to release. The term release in of oneself implies a relaxing, a transference of angst to another dimension, as if magically disappearing for the time being. For the trauma survivor, this is more intoxicating than the very best dope. To be able to converse with another human, openly!! WOW! Load us ups anther bump! However the reality is not nearly as invigoratingg and rewarding as the concept.
Take for example, the discussion between a professional, and ourselves about eat health and wellbeing of our daughter. Our very Autistic, beautiful, and special princess. These are conversations that we recall our parental units engaged in, in our bodies younger years. These should be focused on our child, her needs, her fears, and the plan moving forward to insure that some tf the horror we experienced, never come to pass in her timeline. However, the ability to have an intelligent and open conversation about ourselves is to great to pass. The rush, the feeling of normality cannot be cast aside. We are drawn to the need express, what we are, even though we scantly know who, or what we are. We are at times an emotional irregularity, and at other times, the culmination of What we think we are supposed to be.
The greatest personal challenge we face as a collective, is having an identity. A sense of who we are, so that we may define what we believe we are meant to be. We each as independent alters, believed we were defining ourselves, individually, as the true and authentic version of the illusion we cast upon our own consciousness. “As I see Myself I am”- Thoreau. However to be able to see oneself, one must be, One. We are not, and we try and convince ourselves daily that we never want to be. We trudge through our awareness, seeming to join the fact that we are, “We”. The truth, as most human beings, we long, too belong. However, whether the world of singlets, or the realm of the insane, there are still too may that invalidate our very existences. We are again, lost in the cracks.
during the course of discussion about the challenges of my daughter, why did we feel the need to so readily volunteer a fact, so private to us. Something that most, as we are well aware, can never forget. The bell that can never be un-rung. To disclose a mental illness to another in of itself is a risky matter, however to disclose you are sharing your body with over a dozen other people, that’s a bit on the crazy side!. When loving in a small town in Thailand, this is even more evil Kinevil-ish. However, here we are. Bluritng out he most private and personal of details to an absolute stranger, in the middle of a discussion about my special needs angel. Wow, “What a DUMBASS!”, as was put to us in the middle of it by Larry, the self appointed demigod of our system. An overachiever, accustomed to getting his way, and a trifle narcissistic.
Honestly, we know the reasoning, for a lot of this outburst. This extremely selfish, attention grabbing, comment. We are still trying to define what we are, our essence in this existence. We are not looking for simple validation, we are seeking to find a glimmer of acceptance, not form each other, but the outside world. We do not begrudge the world, yes we do, however most everyone has a place in it. Everyone form the neurotypicals, criminals, and even crazies, have a niche in which they belong. Plural systems, we exist in the planes fo existentially, reserved for the irregulars. We are the square pegs, hit, pushed and damaged, being forced into the round hole. We wish only to find the square hole and learn the name.
We wish to know who wears re, not as a group of alters, each with a defined place in the system; Although many would argue this is therapeutic success. We believe that most plurals would simply call this coping. Learning to function and survive int eh environment of which we find ourselves at the moment. This is similar to the survival of the trauma, the situation for which we are immediately challenged. What we seek, is something different, something more connected, whole.
How can we ever define what we are, as described by Thoureau, when we are fragmented, broken pieces of a mirror. Broken, over, and over again. So many shards of life missing, or disorganized. The logic of such definition is non existent. How can less that all the pieces, ever give you a whole. In this case the individual parts, are worth much less than the whole.
Even as we perform our tasks, as best we can, occupying our time and space in time, we feel ever fragmented. Our sense of who we are, fluidly changing, timeless, forever in flux. Our consciousness, with individual and collective, struggling to keep up with the unstable stability. Only our conscious efforts to be something today, that we can only guess is what we are meant to be. Our Authenticity, guided by guesswork.
As we can now, in all truthfulness, not define what our essence is, our self image, as we have no idea to the true existential self we are, we are left with the crisis of self never foreseen in most post Freudian study; Combining selves, into self. The need to feel human, accepted and understood. This decide cannot even be served in therapy, the greatest fo all selfish pursuits, as the therapist is a paid participant. As we are all aware, very few people will ever hear a negative world from eh therapist they are compensating. This invalidates anything coming from them.
We hope we did not overshadow our daughters needs with our raging insanity. Our greatest fears: Being insignificant to anyone, being thought of as a terrible person, and forging a legacy of shame and pain on my children. The first two, we cannot change. The last, we can fight and toil to insure we do nothing but advocate and empower our kids; Something we never ourselves experienced.
Living as Whole Fragments 