Page 13 of Surviving the Merge
We sat on the couch, and I directed my gaze at Blake; he sat straight-backed in his custom-made suit. Ready to take on our session much like he took on a boardroom. Confident and capable. My eyes drifted from his unflinching expression to our entwined hands when the pressure he applied threatened to grind my bones to dust. I gave my own squeeze, signaling for him to loosen his hold. Then we waited expectantly for Julie to begin.
“Before we start, do either of you have any questions for me? Blake? As this is our first time meeting, I’m sure you must have some concerns. Please, speak freely.”
Blake spoke. “I looked into your background. You have over fifteen years of experience with Dissociative Identity Disorder. In your expert opinion, how likely would you say it is that I’ll be able to...mergewith Damon?”
Blake said “merge” like it was the last thing he wanted to do, and some of my earlier hope faded. We were taking our first step, and the stakes were high. Regardless of the bravado I demonstrated the night before, my courage was completely contingent on his willingness to be all in.
“Well, that depends and it’s too soon to tell. This is a rare condition that affects a very small percentage of the population,” Julie said. “DID patients can have anywhere from a few to one hundred alters. No two cases are exactly the same. It’s very individualized. Therefore, the approach we take to finding a solution won’t be the same. Already, I can see that your case will be different from any other I’ve come across because there’s only one alternate. There will be more differences, I’m sure.
“This type of disassociation is typically the result of the mind needing to protect itself against some form of trauma. A fragment takes place in an effort to shield the host.”
Julie bent over to pick up a folder off the coffee table. After quickly reviewing its contents, she focused on Blake. “Have you done your own research on the disorder, Blake?”
“No, I haven’t. Life was great. I had no reason to look into anything. Well, maybe as of a few months ago, I did. I suppose fear has been ruling my life ever since. Afraid of what I would find. I couldn’t imagine in any scenario that if...healing—for lack of a better word—were to take place, that it’d be the alter that got to stay.”
“Let’s start by taking the word‘alter’off the table. For now, at least. In my opinion, it only serves to keep you and your fragmented other half at war. It leaves you feeling like you’re at a disadvantage, which makes you defensive, and I’m guessing it makes Damon feel superior in some way. The goal here is to create an environment where you both can learn to trust each other again. Right now, you feel like he’s out to take what’s yours. And I’m sure he feels like you’ve already taken what’s his. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“He willingly walked away,” Blake said, his words clipped. “How can he feel like I took something that he willingly gave to me? Justin was in the hospital. Broken. He wouldn’t have made it another day with Damon. For once, Damon did the right thing and put Justin first.” He took a moment to collect himself, smoothing down his tie.
If I had to take an educated guess, I would say Damon didn’t want to admit that Blake was the better option for me. Yes, he walked away to save me, but doing that and admitting verbally that he wasn’t the better man were two very different things. I understood this. Blake either didn’t, or didn’t want to.
Julie filled the silence. “For you and Justin, five years has gone by. You’ve lived a life, progressed academically and professionally. Financially, even. I’m sure Justin looks a little different than he did five years ago. You’ve both matured mentally as well.
“For Damon, time stood still. For him, it feels like yesterday. Maturity-wise, he’s the same. His knowledge of the world is the same. His behavior patterns are the same. He knows this, and it can’t be easy for him to accept. So he needs someone to direct his anger at, as misplaced as it is. Try not to take it personally.”
Blake’s posture softened, and my fingertips prickled as the blood began to recirculate again.Hand-holding in session might not be such a good idea.
“For now, I would like to see both of you once a week. Most of the work needs to be done by you, Blake. But we’ll need Justin to fill in any gaps in your memory. We’ll also need his help to tackle Damon.Soon,” she emphasized.
“Each week, you’ll both have an assignment to complete, and we’ll discuss how it went the following. Wearegoing to dig into your past, so be prepared for that.”
She paused thoughtfully. “I think the fact that you’re able to allow Damon freedom at Elite but have managed to keep him from bleeding into any other areas of your life says that you do have some control. I’d like to explore that, but first, can you speak a bit on how you came to be in the first place?”
Blake’s jaw moved. He struggled with the decision to speak. Just as I began to deflate, thinking things were over before they began, he turned to me, and something in my stare encouraged him to take the leap.
“I was born in a dark closet on his sixth birthday. He’d been in there for days already, he wore a cast on his right arm, and he’d defecated himself. Several times. I came to awareness with a hollow stomach. He hadn’t eaten in days.” Blake stood to remove his suit jacket. Patches of sweat soaked through his shirt. He draped it over the arm of the couch before retaking his seat, loosening his tie before rejoining our hands.
We were moving into difficult territory.
“Damon’s mother—Emilia,” he pronounced it with the proper intonation, a rare display of his maternal heritage, “was forced to drop out of school and take odd jobs waitressing and such, just to keep a roof over their heads. Aside from Emilia’s wiry, raven hair and innate charm, Damon was the spitting image of his father. The man who’d chosen his wife over her and their unborn child. It didn’t take long for her building anger and resentment to be misplaced. Damon suffered for her failed existence.”
The introduction of Blake into Damon’s life always left me conflicted. It represented an ally for Damon. A companion to his pain. But it also signified the start of the sickness in his mind. I vibrated from the unwanted anticipation.
“Did Emilia keep Damon isolated from family?” she asked.
“Her family disowned her. Damon had no one.”
Each word Blake uttered trembled. I wanted to hurt something, orsomeone,because their pain was mine.When they’re wounded, I bleed.
“Teachers? Doctors?” Julie asked.
“Whenever either became too inquisitive, she’d pack up and leave town. There were several moves before they settled in Chadwick, Oregon.”
Julie stopped to make notes, and I took advantage of the lull in the conversation. Getting Blake’s attention, I mouthed,Areyou okay?He nodded once just as Julie raised her head.
“What was different about Chadwick?” she continued. “Why did it stick?”
“Shortly before the move, Emilia became serious with one of her manyflings.Travis. A borderline alcoholic, but she seemed to love him. He ignored Damon, never intervened when Emilia lost control. The two were a pair,” he said offhandedly. “He received a job transfer to one of the plants right outside Chadwick. He brought Emilia and Damon with him.”
