A Triggered Switch

Split personality, a common term for dissociative identity disorder, is a mental condition where a person, often with traumatic experiences, has made two or more distinct personalities for himself, each having different traits, behavior, name, age, gender, memories, and even vocabulary.

(https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/split-personality#what-it-is)

These personalities called 'alters' emerge and undergo switching, a process of shifting from one personality to another, caused by triggers, but are sometimes planned or consensual by the alters.

Consensual switches are planned and agreed upon by all other alters while forced switches happen as the stronger alter takes over the weaker one. Triggered switches are unintentional and are often caused by a variety of triggers only the person with DID can name.

(https://www.verywellhealth.com/dissociative-identity-disorder-switching-5212103)

I guess Vegas was not ready for that quick attack. He was ready to take me whole, my body tensed under his touch and his eyes are a million arrows preparing for a launch attack. Upon seeing this, I know the time has finally come.

I stopped him midway, lying that I was not ready to go further (when in fact, I couldn't have stopped myself too, if his eyes weren't getting too dark and deadly) and that made him a bit guilty, I guess.

He was gentleman enough to cover my bare upper body, each friction sending electric sensations all over my body. I fought really hard with myself, as I know the Vegas who was with me now, is not the true person I should give myself to. I need to fix him first before I totally give in.

Confusion covered his face as I shed light on why I am not ready to go further. Then, in one swift movement, I put my hand on his shoulder, pushing him forcefully so that his whole body shakes and the sleeping Gave would awaken from his slumber.

Vegas was surprised. The look of betrayal on his face was so unbearable I almost cried. I like Vegas this way, but his existence is a danger to himself and me. If I would be able to fix him, then I'll be sure that this thing between us is real and that I am not putting myself in one-sided cruel love.

Seconds passed and Vegas is now looking down, fighting against his alter, Gave. If Gave wouldn't be able to come out, then this will be the end for me. I waited, hands trembling with every second that passed, as Vegas shakes his head in slow motion, willing himself to come out stronger than Gave.

"Pete. You're here." Gave showed me a sweet shy smile, reaching his hand to my shoulder. His touch was light, unlike the rough and heavy hands of Vegas. His face looks so relaxed as if nothing in his head feels wrong. The dominant and forceful Vegas is gone, replaced with a gentle and kind Gave, who makes me feel safe even while inside the lion's den.

"Tell me what happened. Tell me about Vegas." There was no wasting time here, as any moment Vegas could emerge. Gave's eyes when down, searching every part of his memory, and thinking of ways to put into words what he and Vegas are all about.

Tears are now welling in his eyes. I have hit Gave's sensitive spot with that questions and this is never looking any better. If he continued acting weak in front of me, Vegas would completely take over and punish whoever's giving Gave a hard time, and unfortunately, that is me.

"Gave, please. Tell me so I can help you make peace with yourself." For whatever reason, Gave suddenly stood up, all sorrow drained from his face, and headed for the door. With a deep, almost inaudible sound, he says "Follow me. This is not a safe place to talk about it."

I am both shocked and confused at how he's acting now. I might have thought that Vegas came back, had he not mentioned that this place, Vegas' cage, is unsafe. Gave's expression and the way he's standing still, full of conviction, feels so much like Vegas.

For the first time since I met Gave, I realized that he, too, is someone brave and can protect himself. I know that forcing him to speak is not the right way to deal with all of this. But, I also know that Gave has this overflowing will to fix what Vegas has broken in him. He is so much aware of what Vegas is doing and appreciates it all.

But what would happen in the future, he's now unsure. Who would be there for him when Gave no longer has the power over his body. What if Vegas end up hurting himself (both of them) when things get so unbearable.

Gave was being brave, fighting Vegas for the first time. And I'm not in any position to leave him by himself. Although I did not tell him directly, I promised Gave that I would help, no matter the outcome.

* * * * *

We are now at an intersection in one of the busiest streets in town. Here lie all the tall buildings and shops most frequented by people of all ages. It's fun here, I thought, hadn't I been in this tangled situation with Gave and Vegas.

Gave led me in front of the smaller streets, where toy shops are located. I remembered I used to shop here with my mom. My mom, who I miss the most right now. Gave then pointed at one particular shop that sells legos and unique-looking build-it toys.

"There. I used to buy toys at that shop." Gave said with a reminiscent look on his face. His tears have dried up, and his aura is now the usual calm and kind he is. I did not have any time for a shopping date with Gave, but I obediently followed him, unsure of what I'll find here.

"This is my mom and me. She used to buy me all kinds of toys here, and it's fun 'cause I get to bond with her. She was very busy with all the work she had on her plate. She was a doctor, by the way." Gave said, pointing to one of the many pictures posted on the shop wall.

The photo was a bit crumpled and old, but you could still recognize the smiling faces. Gave's mom had this wonderful smile, almost identical to him, their eyes a reflection of each other. I felt familiar looking at her as if I had met her before. It's as if I have heard her voice speaking softly to me before.

Hush now, Pete. I'll take care of your mom. She'll get better soon.

I felt an overwhelming rush of memories playing in my head. The feel of the cold floor of the hospital, my mother staring at me from the hospital bed, and the moment her hands dropped from my grip, lifeless and cold. These were a series of events that happened when I was younger.

I do not want to remember. I shut my eyes so hard I started seeing blood, then willed myself to focus on now, on Gave and Vegas.

"Let's go to my house," Gave said, interrupting my thoughts.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is a work of fiction. I am no expert nor a psychology major, and my way of describing things and telling how the story unfolds is just from pure imagination. I haven't studied people with DID or met someone before, so the way I describe them is completely inaccurate as to how they really are.

For those reading this with knowledge about mental illness, forgive me if I even put confusing information here. This is just how I understand the matter and how I want my characters to play. Thanks, and God bless your kind soul, my dear readers! <3