Emotions in Pictures

DID: The Emotions, a set on Flickr.

Emotions in Pictures
Pictures of what it feels like to have Dissociative Identity Disorder

Note: This is a project for a high school AP Psychology course. This is a fictionalized account of having a psychological ailment. For questions about this blog project or its contents, please email the teacher, Laura Astorian: laura.astorian@cobbk12.org.

Phone Calls

So I got this call from this girl called Vanessa asking me when we wanted to go out to a movie and dinner date. The conversation went something like this:

Me: “Hello?”

Vanessa: “Hey, baby. When do you want to go on that dinner date and that movie?”

Me: “Who is this?”

Vanessa: “Don’t be silly. It’s Vanessa.”

Me: “Who are you looking for?”

Vanessa: “Stop joking with me, Nile.”

Me: “Uh, I think you have the wrong number. This is Sarah.”

Vanessa: “NILEEE. You gave me your number through that online dating service and triple checked it. STOP playing with meeee.”

Me: “You have the wrong number. I’m sorry. Bye.”

Then I hung up. Needless to say, it was a very awkward conversation. She apparently thought I was some guy named Neil who she met through an online dating service. First, my name is not Nile. Second, I am a girl. Third, I don’t online date. Fourth, I am almost one hundred percent positive that I am only interested in men. I could see from caller ID that she called me several other times throughout the day, so I didn’t pick up. She also texted me and left several voice messages on my cell phone, and I have absolutely no idea how she got my number. This is getting stranger and stranger. I was curious and then listened to all of the voice mail messages she sent me, I learned that she was looking for a Nile Swift, who is 16 and plays lacrosse. I could tell that she was dumb and desperate.

My mom even called me today and said that she was worried about me. I haven’t talked to her in a while, and she kept on calling me Emma. It made me SO confused. Maybe she saw the name of this blog and the twitter posts? I don’t know. What’s even weirder is that she asked if I had gender issues and told me that I could tell her anything. I could tell what she was inferring, and it was an uncanny coincidence with the “Vanessa” phone call earlier that day. When she mentioned the name “Vanessa” and “online dating,” I froze. I started crying, hard, crying tears of frustration, tears for the lost sleep and loneliness, tears of confusion. My mom told me I should go see a therapist. There is nothing wrong with me, but I did. It’s with Ms. Madison Halls. The session is scheduled for next week.

These unknown worlds of mine are colliding. What is happening?

Note: This is a project for a high school AP Psychology course. This is a fictionalized account of having a psychological ailment. For questions about this blog project or its contents, please email the teacher, Laura Astorian: laura.astorian@cobbk12.org.

The Day in the Life of Bianca

Interesting blog I have formed…  I have all of these different aliases, “Sarah,” “Emma,” and I guess I am forming a blog of stories of different people?  These past posts are cool, but when did I write them? Maybe this was from a project from college, and my other friends have been keeping up with it? It’s actually cool. I will add to it and write about my day, “The Day in the Life of Bianca.”

Things have not been going well. Last night, I lay on my bed, wide awake. I twisted and turned, moved my pillow around, and fixed my blankets a thousand times or more, but I just couldn’t get in a comfortable position. I even played soft music and brain tuner apps. Nothing. That day had even been a particularly tiring day, even though I can’t really recall much of it right now – it must be the lack of sleep that is going to my head. Mentally, I am tired, but my body feels as though I could run a marathon. I don’t feel like doing anything today, much less have enough mental energy to do so. All I want to do today is stay at home and sit at my computer, doing nothing, nothing, nothing. I was looking through the internet when I saw this blog on my browser and decided to post something. Maybe I had clicked on the link, and it was already logged in. Idk, whatever. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

Nothing seems to fancy my taste buds either. I don’t want to eat anything, and I am never hungry anymore, either. This whole week, my day meals have consisted of a cup of coffee, half a bagel, and a stick of gum. My skin is dry, my hair seems brittle, but that’s probably just because of the winter coldness.  My friend Karoline called me, and I didn’t pick up. She wants me to go to Hawaii with her. “Bianca, u wanna join me on my Hawaiii trippp? Please? U cant leave me with my bro!” she texted me. I don’t want to. I’m not in the mood. I’m off to buy more medication for insomnia and migraines. The migraines seem to be really bad lately. I hope to add more to this blog later when I feel better.

Signing out, B. XOXO.

Note: This is a project for a high school AP Psychology course. This is a fictionalized account of having a psychological ailment. For questions about this blog project or its contents, please email the teacher, Laura Astorian: laura.astorian@cobbk12.org.

Caramel Macchiato

Sarah, again. Just an update on what’s been happening in my life. Today, I received a package in the mail, and it was a beautiful, one shouldered and blue sapphire party dress with sequins. Originally, I had thought it was a late birthday gift from my mother, but when I looked at the bill in the package, it said that I had ordered it! I never ordered a $285 party dress! I’m going to call the store today and get a refund. They must have sent it to the wrong person with the same last name as me. It’s delivered to an “Emma Swift.” But what’s REALLY weird is that she used my credit card to buy it! I also must make a call to my credit card company to deactivate my credit card. She must have somehow managed to get my credit card number and home address. This is really starting to freak me out.

Something else, happened, too. I went for my typical Dunkin’ Donuts run this morning and got my regular caramel macchiato, when a group of girls approached me. They called me “Natalie” and asked me how I was, asked me if I had gotten a job since college, told me about their lives, and remarked about how different I looked, in terms of style and my glasses. I didn’t know any of the girls, so I pretended to know them and played along with the conversation.  As far as I know, my style has been the same and I have had glasses my entire life. They bid me farewell, and I sat at the Dunkin’ Donuts table in silence for a long time.

Afterwards, I went to the mall, wandering around on my own, and walked into Abercrombie. I hate that store. I NEVER buy clothes from there, EVER. The style repulses me, but somehow, I ended up buying $200 worth of clothes in skinny jeans, crop shirts, tank tops, and short dresses. What is happening? I usually shop at Kohls and Marshalls. First I receive a package of a party dress for someone named “Emma,” then a group of girls approaches me and call me “Natalie,” and then I buy two hundred dollars-worth of clothes from a store that I hate. I am confused. I left Abercrombie at 12:30 to go home, and I just arrived home, and it’s 4:30. It couldn’t have been a four hour drive back? The mall is only 15 minutes away. Life is confusing right now, and I don’t know what to do about it.

Note: This is a project for a high school AP Psychology course. This is a fictionalized account of having a psychological ailment. For questions about this blog project or its contents, please email the teacher, Laura Astorian: laura.astorian@cobbk12.org.

Rainy Days and Lost Time

It's Sarah here. Strangely, though, I never remember creating this blog... I must have last night, in my fatigued haze last night. All of Friday evening seems a blur; the last thing I remember is sitting by my small fireplace and opening up Pride and Prejudice, my third time reading the book and then later waking up this morning on my bed, a sparkly boa of pink feathers around my neck, and the distinct smell of alcohol on my breath. I must have dozed off and decided to have a mini self-party, celebrating my own 21st birthday, and went to have a sip of wine. I usually never drink alcoholic, but yesterday must have been a special occasion, and afterwards, I probably just went to bed early. Still, the abnormality of the entire situation lingers on my mind.

This morning has been a rainy one, and though the rain has considerably diminished in size, I can still hear the gentle pit pat, pit pat of the rain against my window. It is quite calming. Time has passed quickly these past few months, and I feel as though it has been slipping out of my grasp. One minute, I will be spacing out while laying on my couch, and the next minute, I will be sitting at the desk, in front of my computer, browsing party dresses. Now, I keep a watch on my wrist at all times and frequently check the time, for these frequent occurrences of lost time terrify me.

I have always been a type of solitary girl, very individualistic and independent. However, I feel myself becoming more and more lonely and experiencing, especially, an out-of-body experience. At times, I have the sensation that I am watching myself do things or that I am detached from my own body. While my mind thinks to do one thing, another voice or some command tells my body to do another action. This has intensified every since I recently bought a new wall clock at the store last week. It was a cute little clock, with Mickey hands at the ends of the minute and hour hands and a turquoise border around it. The clock face even had little pictures of the Mickey characters. The only downside to this clock was the unnaturally loud ticking sound that it made. Every second, the clock would sound, tick tock, tick tock; this noise has irritated me for as long as I can remember, and the other day, the sound seemed to get louder and louder: tick tock, Tick Tock, TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK. In a blind fit of rage, I couldn't handle myself, and I thrust the clock at my wall. It shattered into pieces.

Am I going mad?

Note: This is a project for a high school AP Psychology course. This is a fictionalized account of having a psychological ailment. For questions about this blog project or its contents, please email the teacher, Laura Astorian: laura.astorian@cobbk12.org.

The Blogging World

Hi, everyone! My name is Emma Swift, I am 23, soon to be 24, and I am new to the blogging world! I will try to post most days, but for now, my effort is focused on trying to figure this out!

Note: This is a project for a high school AP Psychology course. This is a fictionalized account of having a psychological ailment. For questions about this blog project or its contents please email the teacher, Laura Astorian: laura.astorian@cobbk12.org