“After you met Cal and Collin?” I ask her, and she nods.
“I want you to understand that there is no person on this Earth that has a totally integrated personality. For instance, I’m sure when you taught classes that you behaved differently with your students than you would behave with your co-workers or from how you would be with your friends. Another example could be when someone is invited out to an event and they’d say a part of me wants to go, but another part of me wants to stay in,” she says.
“So you’re saying that those people have DID?” I ask her confused.
“No, what I’m saying is a person with DID experiences that on a more extreme level. With your condition the boundaries between your personality parts are more distinct. Try to think of Cal and Collin as parts of your personality gone rouge, but they’re still you,” she says softly.
“They don’t feel like they’re me, not even a little.”
“Why don’t they?”
“Because they’re the complete opposites of me. At least Cal is from what I know and I don’t know what to think of Collin. They don’t make any decisions that I would, and I do know this Collin is even further from me in how I talk and dress than Cal is.”
She leans in forward from her desk. “Have you ever had a day when you woke up in a great mood, where you are in such a good mood that you decide to put a little more effort into your appearance, where you’re more tolerant of someone that you usually can’t stand? Or when in a bad mood the patience you’d usually exhibit is extremely short? Those are just small examples of what you’re dealing with to a more extreme level.”
I run my hand over my head, and it’s weird feeling prickly hair sticking out of my scalp than the hair that’s normally there.
“One thing that I’d like for you to make a priority is not being embarrassed or ashamed of your condition,” she says quietly. “What your mind did is an amazing feat. The defense it created was not only psychological, but neurobiological. It protected you from an event that could have destroyed you. Instead of that happening, it adjusted and modified itself to protect you. That your mind is capable of that is something to be admired,” she says almost impressed.
I’m not as impressed by it. “What I don’t understand is why I’m still stuck like this? If we know why it happened—what Cal or I did when I was a kid—why are they still here?”
“You have to understand, Chris that your mind has been functioning like this way for over twenty years. To think just the discovery of what caused it to function the way it does would automatically cause it to revert back to how it was originally conceived is unreasonable wouldn’t you think?”
I start to feel my defenses lower. She’s explained more to me in five minutes than I’ve been able to put together myself in I don’t know how long.
“So what am I looking at Helen? How long until I’m fixed because right now I feel pretty broken,” I tell her honestly.
“What I don’t think most people understand is that integration isn’t a magical moment that everything comes together. For most people it’s a very long process that each alter has to be open to, including you.”
When she says that I swallow hard. “Long process… how long?” I feel slightly on edge.
“It could take years,” she says gently.
I angrily stand out of my seat. “Years?!” I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t have years, Helen. I can’t live like this for years! Lauren won’t make it with us for years!” I tell her frantically.
“Christopher, breathe.” She is trying to calm me, but my heart is beating faster than it was just a moment ago. My throat is becoming dry, and that dull ache that’s familiar is coming on stronger….
Cal
“Christopher, are you okay?” My head feels full of shit. I open my eyes and my vision is blurry. As it clears, I see Helen sitting in front of me.
“Wrong,” I tell her moving to the chair in her office, I flop down.
“Cal?” I give her a thumbs up.
“Are you okay?” She stands and walks over to me.
“No. That jerk-off has shut me out, and it’s never been this hard to come through. Fuck, my head hurts.” I scratch the back of my head, and feel scalp. “What the hell, am I bald?”
“Not exactly.” She laughs and hands me a mirror.
I look into it. “I look like a fucking jar head.” I hand her back the mirror.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“That prick Collin was in here, and you wanted to talk to me, and I wanted him to know our deal is over. Somehow he cut me off, and I don’t remember anything since then.”
“He said something about that,” she sighs and hands me a water from the mini fridge. “So you have no consciousness of the past three days?”
“I’ve been out for three days!” That little son of a bitch.
“That’s interesting,” she says sitting on top of her desk.
“Interesting! That’s not fucking interesting. He’s going to pay!”
“Calm down, Cal. You obviously aren’t exactly yourself right now,” she says in her signature condescending tone.
“Of course I’m not because I’m keeping him out.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re not used to doing that Cal,” she says concerned.
“No shit, but he’s not going to one up me. Asshole. He must not be used to doing it either. I think that’s why Chris came back,” I add.
“I was wondering about that,” she mutters.
“Collin’s off his hinges, and he wants to take over,” I tell her angrily. She looks at me in disbelief. “I’m telling you he does,” I shout.
“Why would he want to do that?” Her stupid crazy-patient tone drives me up the wall.
“Don’t do that shit with me, Helen. I know you,” I remind her. She frowns. “He’s been in the driver’s seat too long. I’m telling you what he’s going to try to do! I know I’m right because I can feel it,” I rub my temples. “I need an aspirin or something.” I hold my head between my legs. Is this what Chris feels when he goes in an out? Shit, this sucks.
“I don’t think aspirin is going to work, Cal. You’re not strong enough to block him and Chris out at the same time,” she says and I wave her off, but the hammer that feels like it’s hitting my skull makes me think she might be right.
“I want to talk to Chris,” I groan.
“You want to talk to Chris?” she asks in disbelief.
“Yes!” Doesn’t she see I’m in too much pain to keep repeating myself.
“You haven’t been able to reach him?”
“I’ve been blocked out. He can’t hear my voice,” I tap my foot to try to distract myself from the pain. “I want to meet with him. Can you teach him how to do that?” I feel my limbs start to tremble.
“Of course,” she says. “He seems more open to treatment, so I’ll do my best.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?” The pain is so bad my eyes are starting to water.