Content Warning: Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse.
Note: Please note that throughout this article, I may switch between personal pronouns. This is on purpose, which will hopefully be explained by the article’s topic (Dissociative Identity Disorder). Typically, ‘I’ describes a specific alter, whereas ‘we’ is used for our collective system in this shared body. A glossary of terms used is at the end of this article.
April was both Child Abuse Awareness Month and Sexual Abuse Awareness Month. Both hold a place in my heart because it is a time when survivors of horrific pain, like ourselves, rise up and speak out more than ever. I wish these things weren’t just confined to a month, and that more people knew how many people suffered in silence. It’s a time where I have reflected year on year as to what ‘justice’ means for me.
I have come across some writing that one of my alters did last year. This is a trauma holder alter who holds the pain of sexual assault by someone close to us, and who experiences mutism due to her trauma. It’s confusing raising awareness when you are literally unable to speak about your trauma, but I think what she wrote is beautiful and I want to share it here.
‘sometimes, I dream about what would happen if, finally stood against her in court, I asked her: ‘what’s the truth?’
her hand would be on the Bible which she professes to believe in. she would swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. and, she would. it may be topped with an apology (if I was fortunate enough it may even be genuine).
she would freely tell (with self-awareness newly found) each bruise that she painted on me, each tendril she wrapped round my heart, each word forcefully injected into my memory. she would admit to her sins (those that are far worse than the ones she actually perceives in herself!)
then, I will perhaps offer forgiveness for her eventual recognition of how she robbed my life. could I forgive, even with an admission of guilt and that long yearned for apology?
no, l’m not sure I can. for I already know the truth, and I know that genuine apology (even with hand on Bible) could never be genuine.
still, this story is mere fantasy. if I ever could challenge her thus, to ask her what the truth was: she will lie. they will believe her and the only evidence I have is a fractured soul and the testimony of a lifetime from the only person whom I could entrust the story to. she will lie, and, no doubt, I will remain incarcerated whilst she walks free’.
It asks a question: what is justice when you have faced the unthinkable? I had this conversation with a friend the other week. They saw justice as only attainable through the criminal justice system. I say that’s one way. But for us, I cannot face losing any more of our lives in reliving the past. I cannot face the intrusive questions, the potential to be disbelieved and even judged on the objective ‘truth’ of your story. I cannot brave having to face my abusers. I cannot understand why they get the dignity of a trial while I get the humiliation of video interviews and cross examinations; why they are presumed innocent and I, a liar.
And so, whilst I have in some cases pursued a sort of criminal justice, I do not believe this is the justice we need to heal. Whilst the above situation is a wonderful ideal, a reassuring daydream, it is only that: idealised and unrealistic. I see justice exist in the movies, but I’ve never trusted our justice system to discover the truth. Instead, I am vindicated with every episode of Bones I watch, where the ‘good guys’ catch the ‘bad guys’ and order is restored. I enjoy every episode of Criminal Minds where they prevent another murder. But rarely do these shows portray what comes next: the building of a case, the removal of ‘reasonable doubt’, the stress of a trial.
Each time we watch these TV shows, we ponder where the evidence is. What is the kicker that would convince a jury? Ultimately, we know it is our DID. We would not be 110 people in one body if it wasn’t for immense and immeasurable pain. And yet, how do you prove it? How do you prove that your brain is fractured when you can’t see it in the same way as a broken bone? To be believed without question, that is the true fantasy. Although, there was in fact a case where a person with DID had their abuser convicted through the very power of their individual alters giving evidence. This condition is the proof, even more so than the scars that mark my skin.
Yet, we are still not ready for that process and may never be. This does not mean we are not strong enough — I reject the accusation that you are weak if you do not pursue a conviction; every survivor is strong, no matter what they decide. But strong and afraid are not mutually exclusive. I am not entirely afraid, but I do think that you can get justice in other ways. I find justice in raising awareness, in the very act of writing this column and sharing my story. I find justice in letting my littles exist and experience a childhood that is safer than the one we knew. I find justice in advocacy, in supporting other systems and survivors through whatever journey they may be going through. I find justice in community, in knowing other systems and being privileged to hear their stories. I find justice in experiencing joy, in living a life we never expected to have.
I find justice in living when they didn’t even want me to survive.
Glossary
DID: Dissociative Identity Disorder, previously known as Multiple Personality Disorder: A condition where a child’s brain, due to extreme and ongoing trauma throughout childhood, does not form the same way as most people, leaving a person with distinct identity parts and a level of amnesia between them.
System: the term people with DID typically use to describe themselves as a collection of alters.
Alter: a distinct identity part within the system. Others may call these parts, identity states, headmates, or simply people. Some still use the term personalities, though this is less common and can cause controversy. Alters can be different ages and genders, look different internally, use different names, and have different interests and personalities.
Trauma holder: an alter that holds a specific trauma.
Littles: child alters, who usually are stuck at the age of trauma. When a child alter is fronting, the body has the mental capacity of that age and acts and often talks like a kid.