I still believe “multiple” or “dissociative” best explains the weird experiences of my life, but my multiple-ness does not look, socially, as it does in the movies – as in Sybil (starring Sally Field), Three Faces of Eve (starring Joanne Woodward), and more recently Jackie and Alice (starring Halle Barry).
All three of the women on whom those movies were based (and the women in books I’ve read*) had far more serious social problems – in which they switched alternate personalities in ways that harmed their relationships and reputations.
(* Are men less commonly diagnosed? Or do I just not remember stories about them? Or are they more cautious about allowing their stories to be told?)
Until last night, I’d never heard of Jackie and Alice, released in 2010, then I found it highly-lauded on Netflix. I almost bailed a few times in the beginning. First, I didn’t want to watch her or the other women dancing in cages in strip clubs. Then some of the dialog between her and her therapist bothered me as way too simplistic – but I reminded myself that movie scripts must simplify a story and kept watching.
Eventually, I was rewarded by seeing something I’ve never seen before. And, when I’ve described it, I’ve never had any therapist or anyone respond to my description as though it was anything they recognized or had heard of.
But, suddenly, there it was, the “weird thing” I do now and then, depicted by Halle Barry almost perfectly – wow – some affirmation…finally….
Halle lay on the therapist’s couch while he questioned her when suddenly her body went rigid, then her back arched hugely before her spine next curled her up and forward when she relaxed – into another alternate personality.
Now, granted she was beginning to remember and relive childbirth, but having given birth twice, I recall only the powerful curling forward, not any back arch – the thing that was, to me, highly significant.
The arching recalls this “weird thing” I do now and then that no one has ever given me feedback on. Sometimes, the events have been so powerful, I’ve called them “the Hulk routine,” as I did in my book, since they reminded me of the depiction by Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno on the old TV series “The Hulk.” Halle Barry’s depiction was not quite as intense or as long as I experience – when my entire body goes into a controlled spasm that rolls up and down my body, taking me into an intense arch and intense curl and finally relaxation in what seems like about ten seconds – all impossible to stop, as I learned once when it happened in front of friends. We were dancing and I pretended to be goofing around.
Besides this perhaps inconsequential – but very affirming – movie tidbit, other evidence of my life continues to match what I’ve read of mind control and the created Multiple Personality Disorder (aka Dissociative Identity Disorder) on which it is based.
Last Friday, I was sitting at the dining table with my housemate Greg when the routine came on again. It was awkward to arch and curl while sitting in a rolling chair, but it’s familiar enough and I managed (almost certainly with a knowing look and pause in the conversation until it was over), and then we continued our conversation – which I found very fascinating.
Then I experienced a moment of strangeness, like coming out of a dream. I tried hard to not let it fade because I wanted to write it down so I wouldn’t forget, because I thought it was terrifically important. But it slipped away, to my great disappointment.
“Greg, I know I just said something really interesting and important to me, and I want to remember it, but I just switched and can’t remember. [I’ve said this to him before, and he knows very well what I mean.] What did I say?”
“Nothing important,” he said.
“It’s important to me,” I insisted.
“I can’t remember,” he said, leaving me wondering if he simply didn’t find it as interesting as I did and had “spaced out,” or if, as my handler, he knew exactly what I’d said and just pretended not to remember.
This morning I told him how I thought he should know by now how important this is to me, and should have tried to remember – and that when he doesn’t help me like this, it causes me not to trust him.
He said he was sorry and would try harder next time. We’ll see.
Natural “multiples,” like Sybil, Eve, and Jackie who became multiple as a result of natural trauma, “switch” when under stress, anywhere, anytime, potentially, whereas I switch almost always at home, while relaxed, usually in bed or when asleep – because I was programmed this way – by design – for me to operate fairly cohesively in social and work situations, but have alters available for them to control on command.
So I appear mostly normal, and suffer my switching, mostly, in the privacy of my home, under my controllers’ control. I might never even know about it, except for a few daytime and public switches and for the distressingly too frequent Taser burns, surgical and other scars, biopsy scoops, and bruises with which I awaken sometimes in the morning, sometimes as frequently as twice a week for extended periods.
Occasionally, I’ve switched in public, though not often – that I’m aware of. (Please, friends, tell me if you know otherwise – please.) I have just a few recollections of switching in public, which I’ve written in my book and on this blog.
The secretiveness of this switching makes my life more apparently “successful” than Jackie’s, Eve’s, or Sybil’s, though I’m left isolated with this weirdness – and the terror and fury I feel that someone can make me amnesic so easily and do who-knows-what to me, or make me do who-knows-what. I only have scars and scoops and bruises and Taser burns to give me a hint that something happened during the night.
Last week, visiting a new therapist, he told me I scored rather low on the dissociation scale. But that only counts events that people recall happening in their normal social life. Because my dissociation has been created to happen only on command, I don’t have the frequency that is impressive on their scale – though I do have some of their type of dissociation. If they asked instead how often do you wake up with unexplainable marks on your body, my score would tell a different story.
Perhaps we need a new scale for those “created” (mind controlled) multiples – but that would blow the cover on mind control, which the industry won’t do – and they control psychiatry: For instance, one major leader in American mind control, Ewen Cameron, was the President of the American Psychiatric Association and the World Psychiatric Association – while he was in the thick of his most horrendous “research.” That industry, so heavy today into psychopharmacology (mind control for the masses), will not support greater understanding of this.
So we go it alone.
Related event and journal note: Thanksgiving 2014: Very bizarre experience of seeing my hand, while I was writing, suddenly looked as if I was seeing it through yellow glass, but also as if my hand was being videotaped from above my head, then the recording run back into my mind (so I watched my hand writing in this second-person state), felt an “intrusion” of another being into my being, with a sense of goodness and reconnection (or maybe it was just “electronic heroin”) (all one evening with my partner beside me), then I lost time and could barely put myself to bed, and my partner had to help me stand up to brush my teeth and get to bed; remembered things too vague to describe and was sick with fear.