Here's something strange that happened to me last week.

I went in for an interview for grad school, and I spoke with a professor. After speaking with the professor, I went to the admissions office. I asked if I could switch my grad application from one major to another. The front desk lady had to get her boss to help me. So one of the administrators, a veteran, approved of the transfer, but then she asked what branch of service I was in. I told her Marines, and she smiled. She was also in the Marines. She then asked me if I were famous. I said no.

Although the meetings on campus went well, I walked away feeling a bit strange. I laughed at the administrator's question, but I was also a little scared.

You see, as a person with DID, I used to lose time and have dissociative fugues on occasion. So when someone asks me if I were famous, I wonder if I had an alter who was actually famous. Did I lose more time than I realized? I asked myself. To my knowledge, the answer is no. I'm quite rational, despite my mental illnesses, and I've already tried to go through as much of my narrative as possible to form a coherent self-story.

So, while I'm scared about having lost time again, I'm laughing because maybe this isn't about losing time as much as it is about having a funny conversation with people I've just met. I mean, some people get asked that question, right? I was also told by veterans that I looked like some politician, and I could see where they think that. But no, I'm no politician or famous person. I'm a humble me, invisible to most, visible to some.

Only with the diagnosis of a dissociative disorder could I have worried about whether or not that question meant I lost more time. Other people would just laugh at that question and walk away.

Things like this get me all the time.

I hated losing time. I'm glad that I don't anymore.