Missing in Action

Funnygal, my resident comedienne, is missing in action. I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t realize this until yesterday. Recently another part, with whom I’m not acquainted, has been appearing, especially when I’m around my cousin. Because she laughs so much, I just assumed it was Funnygal. But the major difference between these two parts is that, while Funnygal is capable of creating her own humor, this unknown part simply responds to someone else’s humor. She laughs and laughs, and I feel the physical act of her laughter way down in my diaphragm. She’s fun for a few laughs, but I miss Funnygal. I need her original humor. She has a certain depth to her—a deep compassion intermingled with the humor—which I miss.

Funnygal has a twin. They couldn’t be more opposites, for where FG is full of pleasant good humor, and lots of laughs, her twin is quiet, dreamy and elegant. She’s the one with good, understated taste. She’s ignorant of the fact that this body is no longer virginal, and is stuck at the age of 13, wistfully longing for her Knight in Shining Armor. Her naivete’ greatly concerns me. She’s the one who painted my room pink, the one still waiting for her daddy to come and whisk her away from her lonely exile in suburbia.

Oh, multiplicity is a never-ending puzzle of sorts, a constant drain on one’s mental and emotional energy. I never have everything figured out! I never know who all my parts are, or what they need at any given time. Yesterday, drifting off into sleep, I flashed on my first pair of bell-bottoms back in the early 60’s. I’ve no idea why that image came to me, but it set up a deep groaning throughout the kingdom of my body. I know I got those bell-bottoms the year I turned 15, which was the year that I finally re-connected with my biological father, and left the house of incest for good. But what that one pair of pants has to do with anything, I don’t know.

I also haven’t a clue as to why I want to die when I hear certain music, or why the memory of displaying a cow skull on my bedroom wall when I was a kid stirs in me a fierce wistfulness. I will never be able to get a whiff of Old Spice aftershave without wanting to vomit, or having to dissociate. Why does it hurt so much when my sons say they love me? Shouldn’t that be a good thing?

Puzzle pieces scattered everywhere, and I such a klutz at finding and fitting them together. My parts will have to bear with me. I am slow of understanding my multiplicity. But they already know this, and we have many more unmapped miles to go in this journey together.


(I’m slow on the uptake, but I’m getting there.)



4 thoughts on “Missing in Action

  1. oh i just want to hug you all together and my heart just feels so much for you!! i have a strange understanding of you…cant explain why…i just want to hold you all. untill you all is all you. is that ok? i have many tears now…

  2. Hi Dreamer

    We can understand so much of what you say and write, but then again i guess most in our predicament would understand, wouldn’t they? Still, it feels good to have others we can identify with and they with us. I so wish the internet had been around 30 years ago, maybe these last 30 years would have been easier.

    Take care and keep on keeping on

    peace and gentle hugs


  3. Dreamer,
    Many, many DID’s fight their alters and don’t want to know more about them, dont want to understand things, don’t appreciate their differences. You seem to. Your inside family has care and concern and I do hope they will be patient with you. Their host body has been through a lot but one thing has not changed, you guys are together through thick and thin. If I can be so bold as to say this, DID isn’t always about the alters…it’s about the host too. The host needs care from the alters so that she/he can understand what’s going on. This time of healing doesn’t mean that you step aside and let everyone else live..you live too and you heal too. This life belongs to every single one of you and you must all have patience with one another and all give each other room for error. It’s a family that is safe, one that understands the why’s and how’s without a word spoken. Be gentle with you and yourselves.
    When we have an alter that’s MIA we know that he or she is somewhere inside either resting or simply hanging out with other alters. MIA isn’t always a bad thing, perhaps she wanted to make room for another alter to get to know you and for you to get to know her. Maybe?
    Ps. Soft Pink is my favorite colour but don’t tell anyone. 🙂

  4. I think there’s a lot of wisdom in what you wrote, and it’s given me a new slant on things. I do feel guilty if I think of what “I” need, as opposed to what “they” need.

    Since my MIA part is such a dominant one, it could be that, as you said, she’s stepped aside to let me get to know another alter better. Thanks for the insight!

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