Almost 20 years ago, I was diagnosed with DID. My soon to be ex-husband and I went to see a counselor together to see if there was any way to work things out. I knew something was up whenever the counselor called him back to talk to him first. After about 30 minutes, I was called back. We chatted for a few minutes before the counselor told me that I had "multiple personalities" and was "frigid."
I got mad and cussed him out, walking out on the session and driving straight to my attorney's office to have him file for the divorce. That counselor did not know me and had barely even talked to me. As far as I was concerned, my ex was just setting things up to have me labeled as crazy in order to try to win the 12 year custody battle that followed.
Fast forward 20 years. After decades of denial, things finally came to a head. I came to in the middle of my husband struggling to take a gun away from me. I *knew* I was trying to kill myself even though I am not suicidal in the least bit. Needless to say, it freaked me out very badly. My husband asked me to go get some help. I agreed.
I went to the doctor and was put on anti-depressants and started seeing a counselor. After months of counseling, my T diagnosed me as having depression and PTSD. During my last visit just a few days ago, I took a huge leap of faith and told the T about my blackouts, my struggle with the gun, and the fact that I had just figured out that I had been having sex with my husband that I knew absolutely nothing about. I have been trying for four months to talk to my T about it.
Now that I have talked to my T about it, the conversations in my head have become all one sided. I haven't had a blackout that I know of. It's just like everything has completely stopped. Now I'm wondering if I have made something out of nothing.
I didn't tell my T about the diagnosis 20 years ago because I just don't think it's possible to diagnose someone after just a few minutes of talking. My T said that it is something he will begin testing me for and gave me and my husband an assignment to write down every episode either of us notice along with whatever I remember before, after, and during these times. But so far, I have nothing at all to report. I just feel so alone and exposed.