A Beautiful Mind

A Beautiful Mind: How my brain saved my life.
Guest post by Kimmi.

Some people day dream and stare off into space. Some people think so deeply that you wonder where they have gone for a minute or  two. I only dream that this was my issue. Have you ever been through something so painful or so terrifying you have to do something to cope? I think we all have. We cannot judge or compare ways others have of coping. They are what they are. I am just thankful I have been given the support and care to deal with mine.

It has taken me a few years to come to this conclusion, but as of recently I have accepted this truth. I knew that I clinically struggled with Dissociative Identity Disorder, and Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I used to believe that this was part of my identity and that my mind was crazy.

 

I have recently been able to accept the truth that my mind is actually quite beautiful. Dissociating has been its way of protecting me all these years.

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Call It The Past

When people hear the story of my marriage and divorce, they often remark on how healthy I seem. I’m not bitter toward my former husband- in fact, when I do think about him, I often consider the gifts he continues to offer the world. I make self deprecating jokes, I expound on the joys of being reintroduced to singleness.

But I will also correct my surprised audience because I’m really still just as messed up as everyone else. Maybe the willingness to forgive and be transparent about my faults is a sign of maturity I will own to, but it doesn’t mean I’ve leveled up.

What I mean to say is that when my former spouse was still my future ex husband, I was struggling under the weight of all kinds of neurosis. I got them the same way everyone does, in childhood. A difficult marriage may strengthen old triggers, but those triggers formed on the playground of youth, in the hallways of old houses with my feet sunk into orange shag carpeting….

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The Un-Adult Truth

The house is napping and I am in the basement with the books. It’s a daylight basement, which is really more of a rainlight basement.

Although I grew up in the great Northwet of

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Washington, I have spent just enough time away to gain a nostalgic perspective.
In small towns like Carnation (where I am today) I look outside and immediately remember movies like The Journey of Natty Gann, which then make me think of logging trucks, and big men wearing plaid and big beards.
Or I remember walking  from school like a pencil line connecting the dots of puddles the whole way home….

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