Looking back, I get quite sad at the lost time, and still struggle from time to time to come to terms with it - for example, when my kids were younger. My psych-doc asked me once to do a timeline and it threw me into a depression. Today, I live a much more sedate, simple life, so I don't experience much lost time, and there is 'memory-sharing', and often some guess work involved. The main thing is that it doesn't freak me out anymore and that helps when it comes to filling in the blanks.

For ten years I was treated for severe depression. Given my childhood history and my father's suicide when I was 19, doctors were happy to diagnoses severe depression and throw anti-depressants at me. I let this go on because I was afraid that I was going mad and that I might lose my children. The next ten years things were starting to be taken a bit more seriously given my psych history.

In the meantime I had always been a great reader and I read everything I could get my hands on that seemed anything close to what I was dealing with. Before home computers and the world wide web, I was standing in a book store once and my hubby asked me what I was looking for and I said, "I don't know but I'll know when I find it."

Knowing something was going on and finding the words to describe it was difficult. It was almost like I had to create a new language to explain what I was dealing with.

As for therapy. I talked with psych-docs on and off for almost ten years before anyone came close to understanding what I was going on about. Hospital stays were the most productive, feeling safe to open up was helpful. My children were getting older so that lifted a lot of the pressure and stress I was feeling about keeping my secret. I was also getting older - and braver - and a little pissed off that no one had figured this out yet.

Then almost six years ago, I was feeling really bad and went to my doctor for some anti depressants. I had been med free for some time. He suggested I go for reassessment as I hadn't spoken to a psych-doc since the mid-nineties. I talked with a psych-doc on the NHS on and off for about three years when she said she would like to refer me to a psychologist. I saw him a few times and he diagnosed DID just like that! After all those years of struggle.

Of course it's with hindsight that I realise how well I actually coped and reading about other people's struggle with DID. My struggle was down to ignorance and lack of information. Today, it all comes together and I'm doing okay.