Little girls are not very good cooks. They don’t drive well, either. They interact very well with girls their own age, but have trouble communicating with their parents. They tickle, eat candy, and squirt water at people. Some of those people are her own children, but in the moment they are just other little girls. She gets strange looks from parents when she’s talking because she isn’t talking like a 43 year-old. So…….

1. Attempt to have conscious control at school functions.

2. You are not 8 or 9 years-old physically. There is no memory of those ages, either.

3. It’s called a whisk, dipshit. You’re cooking meatloaf, potatoes, and gravy.

4. No, I will not be at the party. My daughter will be. Sorry for the confusion.

5. A belly-button lint Bratz doll is not a good conversation topic.

6. You’ve seen Aladdin 4 million times and you’ve never cried at the end before.

7. Yes, you do drive a minivan.

I hate it, hate it, hate it. When I go out in public I make a complete ass of myself. There was one person at my daughter’s musical who actually likes me and she just giggled. Any other adults I came into contact with just stared or frowned at me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

At least I’m not volunteering at the school this year.

I don’t know if I’m switching, co-conscious, or just letting my guard down around the kids. I think I was caught up in the story, songs, and the fun the kids had on stage. Whatever it was I hope there isn’t another school function for a while. Someone even walked up to me and said, “Lisa? Hey, Lisa?”. Grrrr…..that was really embarrassing.

Maybe if I close my eyes real tight and wish extra, extra hard some people will forget I was ever there today. Sometimes when I’m so in that space, even before the DID diagnosis, I have no idea how my behavior looks to others.

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