Those of you who work...

So, today at work I was completely spacey and ineffective in pretty much all manners. I know sometimes that E goes to work in my stead and occasionally S3. Sometimes other ones will come out, but usually it's E or I, or some co-conscious combination thereof. Do you let your bosses know about you? If so, why? And if not?

I am a personal aid. I take care of my disabled parents. My father had a stroke and he is now paralyzed on his right side. My mom had back surgery just after my dad had his stroke. She is now unable to care for my dad. So I do most of the house work, cooking, and laundry. My mom is pretty much my boss and yes she knows about my condition. She is very understanding. I believe if I ever have to get a job I will inform them after I am hired. I also will inform them about my seizures.

I work at McDonald's. And you couldn't pay me enough to divulge my condition to anybody in that place to be honest, since for there, it doesn't matter. We do as good of a job as we can even on the days when the best workers aren't out.

It's tough because we've discovered that it seems as though at least one of us can't read or do math and has trouble with speech, and we have to "drag up" someone who can do those things on the days when nobody with enough energy seems to be able to be out, paying attention, and actively doing it. It's tiring and frustrating. I guess, though, that the nice thing is that on my worst days I'm still not all that much worse than a lot of people there. And on my best days, I'm epic, because Ayame, Aecy, or Jason can take orders/interact with people and enjoy it while Wraith, Malice, or James does the math/listening and typing in orders, making change, etc. part.

It's only on the days when one or both of those two camps are mostly feeling drained and unable to focus/be out front that we have problems. But nope. It's best if our bosses don't know; we plan to get a better job soon enough anyway. ^_^;

My boyfriend hasn't told practically anyone that he has DID, and he's a shuttle-bus for Alimo National (the airport). And because his job requires him to work from about 5:00PM-3:00AM, he has a tendency to switch between his four personalities when the person in possession gets tired.

Problem is that while two personalities, Johann/HIM (the core), and Johnny (the gatekeeper), are legal age to drive, Kiddo is a reckless little twelve year old, and Chibi is a shy and innocent little eight year old - and he allows them both to drive if he and Johnny are out of commission. And not only that, Johann has a tendency to switch in the middle of driving, because if someone is in possession too long they have a tendency to drain of energy and stubbornly faint rather than admit to being tired and willingly swap out.

But no, the bosses don't know about it. He'll call me during down time (when he has no passengers) and I'll be like, 'Wait...you just called me fifteen minutes ago as Johnny - Kiddo, what are you doing out already...?'

I was trying to make an appointment with my university's disability coordinator today but then realized it was prompted by having a couple terrible days in a row. I emailed my psychiatrist, something I rarely do, to let him know. He basically talked me out of it, sort of like they don't need to know anything, better not to say anything. On the one hand, I know I should just keep my mouth shut. On the other, I want to divulge to everyone everywhere and just deal with the consequences.

The second choice is reckless, I know. It's unnecessary and would likely cause my system's stability into a tailspin. I've only told two good friends and they've have only momentary interaction with my alters. I want to shake things up. I want to make the status quo, which has brought me depression and living death, impossible ever to return to. I actually like the basic content of my career and I feel successful. But I'm not me anymore, I'm us, and now everyone deserves a vote. My alters want to leave, but not in the same direction.

I stay for the insurance, our mortgage, the security, and the total lack of any other immediate options. I live in Massachusetts and work in a liberal place. Everyone would almost have to be accepting of someone with DID to be politically correct. People would begin to talk about me in hushes as I approached, even those who know me well. People might pull their children back as I walked by, little knowing they're safer with me than almost anyone they know. I doubt I'll get fired, I'm not a screw-up. But knowing now the terrific abuse that has made a shambles of what I thought my pretty life was, well, it all feels like a set for a movie scene that was up too long and will soon be dismantled because it was just an episode, after all, and it isn't real.

I'd be tempted to make a joke about the whole thing, laugh it off, because that's what I do. Then there'd be the images of the actual horror of the abuse that I don't want to think about. I can't put on the face much more though. I don't even know from one hour to the next some days if I'll make it without cracking. I'm having to reveal more and more each day in order to keep everyone's anger down (it's tense at work) so their chaos doesn't trigger me. It's hard to pretend I care about the things I used to care about when who I am has been dumped into a blender and who knows what's going to be left over.

I want to annihilate who I was. I want to eradicate the homosexuality that I was tortured into believing I had even as I watch it melt away. I want to find an understanding woman and move somewhere not too demanding. I want to cash in, begin again,and make my new life a success.