The Day I Thought I Might Have DID (Or Multiple Personality Disorder)

It was a stressful day at the office like many others from the past year. Far from my hometown, living alone in a new city, unable to connect with the new people around me.

I was feeling overwhelmed by the open office. Around 100 noisy young adults in a single large room and bright lights. I had to wear a cap and tight earphones to block the lights and the noise. But I became so exhausted for the indirect socialization that I didn't want to be with another human anymore. So every day I hurried to my rented room and locked myself in, in the darkness. My imaginary friends that I have had since I was around 12 talked to me more often. I was now 28 and secretly having close and meaningful relationships with these characters I created. I even created a world for them: a book I am writing for them.

I tried to avoid talking about them as "more than just characters I imagined." I didn't want people to know that sometimes I feel them holding my hand. Or how two of them soothe me, but one of them hates me (why would you have a mean imaginary being?). How much they comfort me as I picture them whispering in my ear a kind word. How I dance with them in the dark. How I tease them, and they tease me. How one of them steps in front of me while I walk to confront me with something I am avoiding at the moment.

I didn't even talk about them in all the years of therapy. The therapy began when I was 11 for major depression and many other disorders.

These characters, friends, people, are four. All of them females, except one that is male. That one is the main protector of my disturbed, ill, and treated mind. He's the most verbal, after all. He's rational. I named him Antef.

So, I was feeling lonely for months. Frustrated for the load of work and minimal human contact.

That day at work, as I was wandering around a facebook group for writers (because I am writing the book for my imaginary friends), someone suggested to role play our main characters. Antef, my main friend, is the main character in my book. So I was excited to role play him.

The chat began, but I was soon disappointed. We weren't role playing. They were just asking questions like, "What is your character's hair color?"That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to act out my character and for other people to treat me like my character. As I did many years ago with some friends. I wanted to pretend I was him.

I felt Antef at my side. He sighed and chuckled, "It would've been nice, you know?" I heard him say, feeling some warmth from the back of my left shoulder.

"What would've been nice?" I turned my head a little to my left as if he was really there.

"To hear someone talking directly to me. Calling my name," he answered in a clear whisper thought.

My breathing stopped. I looked up. Conceiving the meaning of it. Trying to understand how much he really wanted it. His words echoed.

I wasn't afraid at this, but I was worried. "How can I help you?" I asked. He shook his head.

This was the first time he expressed a desire exclusively for him. All the time his desires are about me and my well being. But now he clearly wanted to be recognized.

I wanted people to call his name. To make him happy. But...how? How can I make people care for my imaginary friend?

...is it really, really imaginary?

Months before, I was talking to my boyfriend about Antef. "How imaginary is an imaginary friend that doesn't do as you tell?" I smiled, amused and intrigued by the products of my mind while walking around the room to calm my restless legs syndrome (imagine a hyperactive child). But my boyfriend's silence and blank stare erased my smile. He was really, really concerned. I thought then that I might be doing something scary.

I was becoming concerned as well. But, strangely enough, I wasn't concerned about me. Yes, I felt lonely, needy. I needed more human touch. I needed my family and friends close. But my friend Antef was behaving differently. He needed help.

Somehow I stopped at a Youtube channel of a girl with DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder). And what she experienced...resembled some of my own experiences.

The dissociation...derealization. Depersonalization. I've felt those. I could relate to the numbness, the separation between my thoughts and my reality. How blurry it was becoming, the line between reality and my imagination.

I thought, I always knew my friends weren't real...but I never believed it. It's not the same thing. I always believed they were real somehow, but at the same time, I've always known they weren't really there.

Antef wanted me to ignore what he said. But I just couldn't.

I became obsessed with the idea of helping him out. Literally, helping him get out.

"Ray..." He called me. "I'm not sure this is the way. I've got to admit. I'm scared." "Oh my god. He is scared? That's another first! I have to help him!" His fear only powered my motivation to help him for once. He has helped me all these years. It was my turn.

I devoured four books on DID and did lots of research.

So I went to therapy for the first time in years with a new psychologist in this new city.

"I came here because... I want to talk about these 'friends' I have..." I began crying. I felt as if I was coming out of the closet. Only that I wasn't declaring myself to be gay, I was declaring myself to believe my imaginary friends were real.

Long story short, they (psychologist and psychiatric) sent me home with antipsychotics. And I told them I didn't want antipsychotics. I have really bad experiences with them, and actually, they are part of my teenage trauma.

Many months have passed since that day when Antef expressed his wish. I talked to a lot of people, my best friends, my family, online, looking for help. Trying to figure out how twisted my mind really is. Trying to search someone who could relate to what I was experiencing.

But most of them didn't understand I don't want to stop listening to my friends, instead, I want to better understand them.

And most of all, I wanted someone to care for them.

What would've happened, if someone just asked, "Hey, how is Antef doing?"

So far, no one has asked.