Our Collective Life: Living with Dissociative Identity Disorder

By JD Kennedy

Our Collective Life is a non-fiction memoir of a person diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly known as Multiple Identity Disorder or MPD) is a condition in which two or more distinct identities are present in the one body.
In our case, we are called the Collective, a group of 19 individuals (at the time of writing) sharing a body and trying to navigate our way through this one life. We each have unique personality traits and characteristics as well as differing thoughts, opinions and often even memories.
To an outsider or a layperson, this book may sound like a work of fiction. However as crazy as it may sound, this is our life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Feb 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781922381507

Book preview

Acknowledgement

Acknowledgements

We need to thank our partner, who, without her unwavering support this would not have been written, let alone published. The patience and understanding she has shown, despite being faced with so many of us (and let’s face it, not all of us are nice!) has been nothing short of a miracle. Thank you. We love you more than we could ever say.

And thanks to Dr David ____. Without his guidance, expertise and never ending serenity we would not have been able to learn, understand and accept both who we are and who we can become. Thank you, Herr Doktor.

About This Book

We are called The Collective. The Collective is the group of members (commonly called ‘alters’) that reside within the body of Jo, a 46 year old woman. Although we did not have a name for it in the childhood or early adulthood, approximately 15 -20 years ago Jo was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID).

The Collective is real. The members are real. Their thoughts, feelings and memories are all their own (although some details may have been left out for confidentiality).

Dr David ____ is our psychiatrist and has known the Collective for many years. This book is, for the most part centred on a tumultuous period in our life when, if it wasn’t for David’s support, the vast majority of us feel we would have not made it through. Due to his expertise and never ending patience, we did, indeed, come out the other side – bruised and battered perhaps, but we survived.

And so it is this therapeutic relationship of a person with DID and their primary mental health professional that the vast majority of this book is based on. However we did take some artistic liberty in regards to the therapy sessions.

Firstly, what is attributed solely to Dr David is actually more an amalgamation of a few different mental health professionals (psychologists, mental health nurses, social workers and three different psychiatrists). We have seen quite a few professionals over the years, but it was decided that to save any confusion it would be easier for the reader if we simply credited it to the one person who has worked with Jo and the Collective the vast majority of the time and has, by far, helped us the most. If we have offended you, Herr Doktor, or indeed anyone else, we apologise.

Furthermore, time and the distressing nature of the content has meant the concrete memories of therapy has somewhat eroded, especially when it comes to the recall of the teens and littles/children. Their accounts/stories could not be substantiated, which caused a great deal of concern when talking through the notion of publishing. In the end it was decided how the particular members recalled it was how it would be written without trying to analyse the content or attempting to go back and trying to confirm their stories. If this how they choose to remember their therapy sessions, then who are we to tell them they must be mistaken or their stories can’t be factual? Hopefully we do them and the process justice.

Finally, we need to acknowledge we are a work in progress and will, in all likelihood, be one for many more years. We are still in therapy with Dr David, and it is unclear how long this will be the case. Yet it was decided the book needed an ending, a sense of completion for the reader. So, as much as we would love to say the ending is 100% accurate, alas it is not. In many ways the ending is more one of wishful thinking, one that we hope will be possible in the not too distant future.

The Collective

The Collective

Adults

Trudi- A main alter in the Collective. Trudi makes the rules and decisions based on the needs of the Collective. She is the one who will always remind the Collective The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. In other words, the Collectives’ needs as a whole are more important than the individual members.

An emotionless alter, she rarely comes out to interact with ‘outsiders’ any longer, and prefers to communicate with David via letters.

Demise– (Pronounced as ‘Denise’.) Demise is the enforcer. She used to be pure violence and repeatedly threatened to ‘take them all out’ (commit suicide/kill the body/Jo). In the past, she has caused physical injury to outsiders that she felt were threatening the Collective.

With therapy she has become less violent and less focused on destroying the Collective. Now, Trudi and Demise usually work in tandem - when Trudi needs to address the Collective, Demise will be with her, to ensure everyone stays in line.

Presently she rarely emerges out front, but, much to Dr David’s chagrin, she continues to threaten and cause physical harm to members of the Collective and Jo.

Sam–Sam is a protector. A strong alter, her aggressive language and attitude meant that most outsiders didn’t know how to cope with her and so would beat a hasty retreat or try and steer clear of her - which was ultimately what she wanted.

Sam is a staunch feminist, and hates men with a passion. She used to often talk of cutting off certain male ‘appendages’ to make the world a better place (which Dr David handled with remarkable calm). To her, the best way to protect the Collective is to isolate them.

Toni– The other alter primarily responsible for keeping up the pretence we are ‘Jo’. Toni is fairly emotionless, and is known to be the practical one. She helps keep the Collective on track, doing what needs to be done to make sure they get through the day. She doesn’t create waves, preferring to just go along with the flow, as long as the daily tasks are being performed and outsiders are not aware the Collective exists.

Toni would say she doesn’t have any hobbies as such and merely does whatever needs to be done - although she does seem to enjoy watching foreign movies and documentaries or reading when she has some spare time.

Linda– Linda is one of the main members that is out front when outsiders think they are talking to Jo. She has more emotions than the majority of the Collective, which serves a valuable purpose when interacting with outsiders, yet it can cause her some difficulties at times.

Linda craves knowledge and education. She is keen on being healthy and is the driving force behind the Collective looking after themselves physically.

Linda loves to cook and is a keen crafter. Linda’s perfect day is sipping on a freshly brewed cup of tea whilst cooking or knitting.

Jordan– Jordan is a protector and is the final member who is out front a great deal of the time. She is known as a straight talker and doesn’t believe in holding back or pulling any punches. Her being out front has resulted in many outsider’s confusion, as she forgets (or perhaps merely doesn’t want) to keep up the pretence she is ‘Jo’.

She is one who self-injures (cutting or ‘slashing’ as it is commonly called) and this is an urge she continues to fight.

Jordan’s perfect day is sitting with a cup of herbal tea and watching a classic horror movie – as she says the cheesier, the better.

Jordan is firmly planted on the ‘all men are bastards’ camp, which has created quite a lot of issues in the past (especially when Jo was married).

Dianne– Dianne’s main function out front is to deal with Jo’s mother. She does not like the mother at all, so stands her ground with her – which has resulted in some serious conflicts.

She comes to the fore when interaction with the mother is needed, but if she does have any spare time she will have her nose in a book. Her time within is occupied by caring for the teens and littles.

Catherine– Catherine is a newer member. She is a confident, warm alter, who is happy to just exist. She has a special bond with Jo, and is a firm advocate in supporting her in a way the rest of the Collective does not.

She is a proficient pianist and whenever she has the opportunity, she will be practising for as long as possible. She is also an avid writer and likes to write young adult novels which she hopes to get published.

Kat– Kat is another new member, and not a lot is known about her at this stage although it is hoped with time, this will change. She has a great deal of difficulty with physical contact and cannot stand to be touched when she is out front.

Jo - Jo is the one born into the body, the original. Although the Collective does not see her as a member of the Collective, she is of course an important part of how we function so we felt it necessary to include her. She/the body is 46 years old. She was married, which unfortunately resulted in more trauma and abuse, but she has now been divorced for many years.

She also has an adult son, although she was not the one responsible for the majority of his upbringing (an alter had the sole task of raising Jo’s son).

Jo does not spend a great deal of time out front, as her severe and oftentimes crippling depression means she is not able to function very well and is also a high suicidal risk. It was primarily due to this that the Collective was admitted to psychiatric hospitals many times in Jo’s late teens/20s.

As hard as it may be for outsiders to comprehend, Jo does not believe in the existence of the Collective and says she has made ‘it’ all up.

Teens

Jodie– Jodie is 14. She is probably the happiest of the teens, and enjoys talking with ‘Dr David’. She is fairly free of the trauma and pain that most of the teens endure, although she still hears ‘the voices’ inside that can become distressing.

She loves to watch movies and eat junk food – much to the annoyance of Linda, who tries to keep the Collective on a healthy eating plan.

Josephine– Josephine is also 14. She primarily exists to try and please the mother (Jo’s mother). She firmly believes she is a bad daughter and has let the mother down and constantly strives to gain some sort of love or affection from the mother – to no avail.

Josephine and Jodie are best friends. Often the two of them ‘get up to mischief’, according to the adults.

Danielle– Dani is about 13. She carries a lot of trauma and a great deal of the pain, and is haunted by memories of ‘the-man-with-the-red-shirt’.

Rachel– Rachel is a 13 year old who seems to have a lot of anger. She also carries a lot of trauma. She is the main teen that injures the body, specifically cutting.

Nicole– Nicole is also 13 and carries trauma. She is very scared most of the time, and has been known to take off running, trying to flee from the voices or the-man-with-the-red-shirt. Nicole also self-injures, specifically burning.

For a time, Rachel and Nicole were merged together and faded more into the background, preferring to stay within. However, recent upheaval in the Collective meant they returned as individuals and started to take control of the body once more.

Rose– Rose is 12. Although she is not technically a teen yet, she is much older than the littles so is accepted into the teens ‘camp’. She has a lot of fear, and seems to get upset or frightened easily, especially when the other teens are struggling. She is one who is finding the notion that she is in an old body difficult to cope with as she just wants to fall in love, get married and have a family.

Littles/children

The littles are kept very separate from the main Collective and are heavily protected, so not a lot can be said about them other than their names (Bridget, Daisy, Piper and Cassie) and that their ages range from approximately 4-8. Stuck in loops of trauma, they tend to cycle/switch in and out quickly, and do not stay out front for long.

Jo

I feel like I am suffocating. The blackness looms overhead before it lowers to rest on my shoulders once more. It reaches out, drawing the life from everything that was once beautiful and alive. I can’t get close to anyone, for fear the blackness will find them and suck them dry as it has me.

I put on a smile, a pretence that everything is fine. Nobody knows what life is like for me. They have no idea that even the simplest of tasks are made difficult when the blackness descends.

I pray for relief, but it never comes. I pray for death, but laughing it mocks me, dancing away when I reach out for it.

This is my life. I am Depression.

Jo was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink with blood flowing freely out of her arm. She didn’t recall how she got there or how she had injured herself, yet the bloodied razor blade in the sink gave her a good idea what must have happened. She tried to look at the wound to see if she would need stitches, but the blood kept pooling in the gash and she couldn’t see to get an idea of how deep it was.The blood was still flowing freely and, seeing the amount of blood that was in the sink, it had obviously been flowing for a while. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it the best she could to try and stop the blood that didn’t seem to be slowing down at all.

Why did this keep happening? She didn’t remember hurting herself, she didn’t remember anything for…well, she didn’t know how long.

‘Fuck, she’s starting to cry again.’

‘Leave her alone.’

‘Just pull yourself together, fuckwit.’She couldn’t help it, she wanted to turn around to see who was speaking. But she knew she was alone.

It was coming from inside her head, she recognised that, although it didn’t sound like her voice. She had been hearing these voices for as long as she could remember, yet she still struggled to accept them. How could she accept them, when accepting them meant she was crazy?

She knew it didn’t make sense. Not only the voices that were obviously hers, yet sounded different to her. But she would also find herself in places without any concrete knowledge of how she got there or she would find herself doing something but not understand how or why she was doing it. Like this, with the injury and blood. If she thought really hard, she sometimes received fragments of time, and she saw her body doing things. But it was like she was in a dream, she wasn’t in control. Why couldn’t she control her life? Why didn’t it make sense? She couldn’t even string two days together.

Don’t worry, it’ll wash off. A male voice cruelly seemed to whisper in her ear and for some reason, the voice scared her. Her heart began to thud and she felt sick.

Oh God, what was happening? She felt like she was standing on a precipice and at any moment, the ground would shift and fall away and she would plunge to her death. Any maybe that would be a good thing. She couldn’t keep going like this, she didn’t understand her life at all.

Subconsciously she touched the wound through the towel and that was when the pain hit her. She felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes and she started to cry.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the tears and get a grip on the pain, and took some deep breaths. In and out, in and out, trying to calm herself just as the doctor had shown her. After a few moments, she found it helped and the physical pain had eased. Reluctantly she realised she was going to have to do something with the wound and clean the bathroom and so she opened her eyes again.

** ** **

She was no longer standing in her bathroom, and instead found herself sitting in Dr David’s office. David was mid sentence when he looked at her and stopped talking. He looked concerned, his brow furrowed as he studied her. Jo wanted to say something and felt the overwhelming urge to apologise, although she didn’t really know what she wanted to apologise for. She didn’t even understand how she ended up there, although this was something that happened often enough. You would think she would get used to it, yet she just couldn’t.

Don’t worry, it’ll wash off. That male’s voice again in her head.

Jo? She glanced at the doctor, who was now looking at her with what she could only describe as a kind expression on his face.

Jo, unable to speak, merely nodded. She couldn’t hold his gaze, so she looked at the floor, letting her hair fall over her face.

Are you all right? The doctor sounded genuinely concerned, and when Jo dared to look up again, she could see he was leaning forward in his chair in an attentive gesture, yet still keeping a firm boundary between them which for some reason, she felt was really important. Jo took a deep breath and, in a subconscious gesture, reached to feel her wounded arm through her sleeve. It was obviously bandaged, and although still sore it was more a dull throb. How did it even get treated? She was standing in the bathroom, then here in the blink of an eye. How did she get from her bathroom with blood everywhere to here, and with the wound bandaged?

Don’t worry, it’ll wash off. The male whispered in her ear again.

She felt the arm again, and her prodding did not go unnoticed by the doctor. He gestured to her arm and asked, Do you know what happened? Do you remember any of it?

Jo shook her head, looking at the floor once more. Why couldn’t she remember?

He looked concerned and gently said It happened three days ago. There was a visit to the medical centre and it was stitched.

Jo nodded mutely, still unable to speak. She felt so ashamed. What does David think? That this keeps happening? Does he understand that she just suddenly realises it has happened, without any recall of actually doing it? Can he even fathom what it’s like for her?

Again the overwhelming urge to apologise.

Someone in the Collective was feeling very anxious, and ended up cutting the arm.

Jo looked up, trying to meet his gaze, but failed. She resumed looking at the floor, allowing her posture to hunch over all the more, until she was almost sitting in a foetal position. The Collective? What was he talking about? She knew on some level they had had this conversation before many times, but it didn’t make sense and she just felt the urge to deny it, to tell him that it simply wasn’t true.

While all of these thoughts were flitting through her mind, David continued. I know you don’t believe me, and I know you may not recall that we have had this conversation many times. But that’s ok, he added, and softened his tone of voice. I will go through it every time with you until it sinks in, if I need to. Jo heard him move in his chair, and she couldn’t help but jump, although she didn’t know why.

It’s ok, he said, hurriedly. You’re safe. I’m just adjusting position. I really need to get a comfier chair, he smiled apologetically, before continuing.

You have what is called DID or Dissociative Identity Disorder. You have alters, or personalities within, who take control of the body and have done so since you were very young. They call themselves the Collective. At those times you often have little to no recall of what is happening, nor do you have any control over what is said or done. He paused, obviously waiting for some kind of reaction from her.

Jo shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. Why would he think that? She had heard about DID before somewhere and it came to mind that it developed due to severe trauma or abuse. Nothing like that had ever happened to her. She had a very normal and happy childhood, there was no trauma or abuse.

I know you don’t believe it, Jo. Yet I can assure you it is the truth. I have been seeing you and the others within for many years now, and I have never had any doubts about the diagnosis. He paused again, and Jo couldn’t help but feel he was preparing for a barrage of denial.

Don’t worry, it’ll wash off. The male whispered.

Jo physically shook her head, both against the cruel voice that kept whispering in her ear and what the doctor was saying. She struggled to speak, to voice her denial. She wanted to tell him none of it was real. She had made it all up and she didn’t know why she did that, but she was very sorry. She needed to explain and then apologise for wasting his time. He will possibly be angry when he found out how she had been lying, but it had to be done.

However no sound came out, other than a small squeak. She felt like the room was starting to fade and that she was beginning to physically sink into the chair. Without thinking she poked hard at the wound, and was instantly rewarded by the wave of pain that reached her and jolted her back to the present time.

The doctor noticed her digging her fingers in to the wound and automatically reaching out, he said Please, don’t hurt yourself.

Jo shrank into the chair away from his reach. She heard a scream inside and felt herself sink back into safety.

Sam

Shift, switch. Sam’s eyes were blazing with fury when she met the doctor’s gaze. What the fuck?! she demanded, staring him down.

Sam? The doctor said, leaning back in his chair, instantly realising they had switched and Jo was no longer in the room with him.

Sam didn’t answer his question, instead firing at him What the fuck did you do?

The doctor looked apologetically at her, before he said I’m sorry. I reached out when Jo started to injure the arm. I didn’t mean to scare her, it was an automatic reaction.

Fuck, doc. Sam bent the neck from side to side, until she was rewarded with the crack that eased the stiffness. She then made a conscious effort to unclench the fists and take some deep breaths to try and calm down.

Please tell Jo I am sorry when you see her. It was not my intention to scare her.

Intention or not, you did. You know she’s a fucking nervous wreck as it is, this is not gonna help.

I know, I know. The doctor realised he had screwed up. He held out his hands in an apologetic gesture and then looked at Sam once more. I apologise again, to you all.

Fuck, just watch it doc, ok? I don’t wanna have to come out and kick your ass, especially coz of that stupid bitch. Sam realised the arm was hurting again, and swore under her breath.

Jo

Jo found herself back in her house, in her bedroom. How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was sitting with the doctor. She wasn’t sure how she got to the doctors, but she equally did not know how she got back here. She tried to think back and saw a snippet of her sitting with the doctor, then another snapshot of her driving home, but that was it.

The doctor’s words came back to her. He was convinced she had these alters within that would take charge, but that was crazy. There was no way that was true. She tried to tell him that, tried to tell him that he was wrong about her and that she was a liar and made stuff up, just like her mum always said. But each and every time she tried she failed. Next time, she decided. Next time I will make him understand I made all this up and how sorry I am for wasting his time.

She felt the wound on her arm, which was still covered in a bandage. It continued to throb but the pain was less than the last time she was aware of it. She still couldn’t recall what actually happened, and she wished she could just accept that, but it was so hard.

‘It’s ok, hang in there. Don’t give up.’ A kindly voice spoke in her head.

‘Oh fuck off. She just needs a good kick up the ass, the stupid bitch.’ A harsher voice cut through.

The voices again – the voices that threatened to drive her crazy. Why couldn’t she stop the voices? Without realising it, she started hitting her head with her fists, in a vain attempt to stop the conversations that kept echoing through her mind.

Don’t tell, don’t tell.

Linda

The microwave beeped, which snapped Linda out of her reverie. She loved cooking and was strictly trying to follow a diet. They had gained a lot of weight over the last ten years, as everyone in the Collective was eating whatever they wanted. The extra weight was making life more difficult and exacerbating some physical health issues, so a couple of years ago Linda held a meeting within about it. She would be the first to admit she was surprised when the majority had agreed to try and take better care of the body. Linda had taken charge of the health regime, and she loved to spend time planning the menu and then cooking the meals.

However it wasn’t always a sure thing she would be out long enough to finish what she started. For Linda it was a good day when she was out here and could plan, prepare and cook a meal from beginning to end. And if she was really lucky, she would even get to eat it. The whole process, from start to finish gave her a tremendous amount of satisfaction and once again, she found herself thinking she could have been happy to have a career with food.

However she knew she was an altar, she wasn’t the original one born into the body. And in truth, even though she did have desires of what she would do if she was the only one in the body, she could not really imagine what life would be like if she was on her own. She was so used to hearing noise from within most of the time, and David, their doctor had said that was something non-multiples didn’t experience in the same way. What would life be like without that noise?

The microwave beeped again, and the words Remove food flashed up on the display. Linda tried to pull her mind back (did non-multiples do that? Get lost in their thoughts? She would have to ask David) and focus on the task at hand. Pulling the container of steamed vegetables out of the microwave, she put them aside while she focused on the meat in the air fryer. She turned it over and was pleased to see that the chicken looked well cooked and still succulent. Using the tongs, she removed it and placed it on a plate, along with the steamed vegetables. Taking the plate and cutlery to the chair, she sat down to eat, hoping it was, indeed her that was able to eat the food tonight. Lately she had been cooking and then been replaced out here with someone else, so she didn’t get to eat what she had lovingly slaved over. Mind you, she had noticed someone else often did the dishes in those instances, so that was a positive!

Jordan

Jordan found herself sitting in the lounge, with a plate of chicken and steamed vegetables. Shit, she muttered. She agreed to follow the diet because being overweight made them much more vulnerable. After all, they couldn’t run or fight if needed when they were so out of shape. But just sometimes, a burger would be awesome.