I switch a lot on a daily basis, probably because I am polyfragmented. The vast majority of the time, however, I’m switching between parts who are familiar with one-another, so this kind of switching is smooth, with only a small blip in my conscious awareness. I typically call this kind of switching shifting, because, although I am changing between parts, it isn’t jarring and I don’t feel like I have a loss of control—I am able to hold a conversation and mostly remember my train of thought while shifting between parts.

When I experience true switching, however, I may lose awareness of the world around me, in a time span range of anywhere from seconds to hours. Typically this disconnect feels gradual and seamless, so much so that, unless something notable happens while I was in the dissociated state so I come back to a discretely different situation than before the switch, I’m usually not aware that I ever switched. It can feel like I’m waking up from a dream, and I’m not fully aware if I’m still dreaming or if this is my reality.

I see a lot of parallels in how I experience dreaming and how I experience switching between parts that aren’t familiar with one another. When a trauma-holding part, one that my more regulated adult parts aren’t acquainted with, is triggered to take control, it can feel like a kind of dream-state. Typically leading up to the switch, I start to feel heavy—my thinking slows down and my vision starts to fade. It feels slow, gradual, and, most importantly, natural. In reality, however, my switches are much faster than how they feel internally. When the part takes over, the dream-like state gets deeper. Most of the time, I’m just along for the ride while the trauma-holding part has control. Everything feels a bit off, but I’m usually not aware enough to even realize that. My thinking has slowed so far down that I’m unable to grasp onto the reality of the situation. My vision has faded, and I have no control. My body is moving in ways that I have no awareness of, and time is suspended. I am not even aware that I do not have control because I’m not aware of the world around me.

Since starting therapy, I’ve been more able to identify when I’m in this dissociated state. This is because my therapist, who is able to recognize when I have dissociated, can prompt my adult parts to get back online by reminding me that we are safe and asking where my adult parts are. When this happens, I’m now able to do something analogous to lucid dreaming, where I am aware that something is off about my reality and I can sometimes exhibit partial control over the situation. I may be able to suggest to the part in control about what to do. I can tell the part, by thinking, that we are safe and update them on the reality of the situation. Sometimes, when this happens, my adult parts switch back in and I gradually gain control over the situation again. Other times, however, the part in control may get even more scared and confused about what is happening, resulting in an even more painful situation. For the most part, these trauma-holding parts aren’t aware of present time and context, and think that trauma is happening right now, so they’re often terrified.

It is a very strange feeling when a trauma-holding part is in control and I am simultaneously aware of the situation. I have a little control over my actions, but not too much. If, for example, I try to move my arm, my arm may feel so heavy that I am unable to move it. If I try to speak, I can feel like I am being blocked from doing so. Meanwhile, my body is moving in ways and I am doing things that I have no control over and cannot predict. Everything feels very slow, heavy, and visually dark. That part has more control over my actions than I do, and that part feels like a separate entity to me. Because of this, it can feel like I am possessed, so it can be a really scary experience for all parts involved.

Eventually, I switch back in and gain control again. While in reality this is typically an instantaneous switch, it feels like I’m slowly waking up from a dream. After I’m back in control, if I think back to what just happened, I’m often genuinely unsure if what just happened actually happened. Sometimes, my memory of the event is simply not there. Other times, I remember only fractions of the time that the other part was in control. When I do remember the event, I typically only remember certain aspects of it—for the most part, my visual memory is not there, but I may remember what I heard while I was in a dissociated state. Sometimes, when I switch back, my memories of the event come back to me all of a sudden, as if to update me about what just happened but without having experienced it myself.

For most of my life, I was so used to entering and exiting this dream-like state where other parts have control that I genuinely didn’t know it was abnormal—it was normal to me. I was never consciously aware that other parts ever took over until starting therapy. At first, when this would happen in my therapy sessions, I’d switch back after an episode to my therapist asking me if I knew what had just happened. I didn’t, but I’d pretend that I did because I didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that I didn’t. Over time, my therapist was able to cue me forward when I was actively in a dissociated state, thus allowing me to become more aware while other parts were in control to help me create connections between my parts. Now, I am more able to recognize when I am in a dissociated state, but I absolutely would not have been able to do so without having my therapist explicitly point it out to me first—I was simply unaware otherwise.

Having DID is a confusing experience, and it’s really difficult to put into words the reality of my situation. Most of my life feels no different to anybody elses, yet I also have these otherworldy experiences. Up until recently, I wasn’t conscious of the times that I didn’t have control over my life. Since becoming aware, the awareness of the lack of control over my own actions is, quite frankly, terrifying. I don’t know what all of my triggers are, so I could, in theory, have a dissociative episode at any moment. Thankfully, I believe that the vast majority of these episodes occur in the controlled environment of therapy.