Sometimes, mental illness becomes a moniker for anything that seems hard. I am guilty of defining my actions according to The Big Book of DID, particularly when I feel challenged by the unknown. Everything about my behavior, my health, my pursuits, etc. is not a DID response to a trigger-happy life though, even when my mind wants it that way. . .
I feel more at ease with taking a moderate look at my life. I ask myself whether I’m having flashbacks, automatic neural spikes, grief… or, perhaps, experiencing anxiety related to hormonal shifts related to my current age of 54. Once I ask myself this kind of question, I chill a little, encourage myself to remember life changes are normal, and often stressful for many women, but that it’s not the same experience as post-partum-meltdown-gone-rogue.
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