How does this even happen! I mean, she’s 32 years old and she is acting like a four-year old child. She has told me this happens to her sometimes, that she will do things “like a little kid.” She said that she would ride her bike and it would be like a child was riding. I offered the helpful observation that we all like to play like children sometimes. It’s fun.
That wasn’t what she meant. What she meant was that when sheplayed like a child, it was because she had switched and become one of her actual, bona fide, child personalities. “On the outside.” Where anyone could see. Not intentionally and usually not in public because that did not feel safe. You think? Not so great for the public either, when the public is me and suddenly I’m in charge of this little kid and I have no idea what just happened.
I know what those words mean, about acting like a child. I mean I know the words, but understanding the words does not mean I understand the sentence, and here she is, reaching for my hand as we walk in the park. I mean, come on. Thirty two year old women do not reach for the hand of forty three year old women without a reason, and I can see none. She is neither blind nor infirm in any discernable way. She is smart and accomplished; she would not do this. But apparently some child part of her would. And did.
Her whole persona has changed, even appearing to be physically smaller, though that can’t be true. When she speaks it’s with a child’s voice and understanding. She’s pulling me toward the swings and I know I am going to have to push her and she is going to look silly. I am going to look silly, too, and this is my park. Near my home. She is not likely to see anyone she knows; but me, how can I explain this? Maybe I won’t have to.
And now I see another problem. We are in the parking lot and my happy little four year old is talking excitedly about our car. Our car? Desperately I hope she does not think I am her mother. She describes “our car” and I am relieved to find that it is not my car, and I search the lot for “theirs.”
And then this magical thing happens. My companion looks in her purse for the keys, just like a regular person. She also takes out a small rag doll and gives it a kiss and offers it to me, presumably to kiss it good-by. Which I do. The rules for this game are so strange. And then she laughs and tells me not to worry. She will let “her” come back out as soon as “we” get in the car. “I’m not allowed to drive,” she informs me.
And I watched her drive away like any ordinary person…………….
…………………
This was the first of many encounters with alter personalities that I learned to love and then said goodbye to as they healed and integrated, no longer existing as separate personalities, but becoming one again with their original core person.