My name is Kris McElroy, and I am the new author of "Dissociative Living." I received a diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder (DID) in 2013 when I was 28 years old. Since then, I have been navigating the complexities of living with DID, especially in relation to parenting, coexisting with alters, professional pursuits, and interpersonal relationships. I aspire to foster a shared understanding through the exchange of our experiences as we navigate the journey of dissociative living together.

My name is Krystle Vermes, and I am extremely excited to become an author of the Dissociative Living blog. As an individual living with dissociative identity disorder (DID), I feel like I can make a difference by sharing my personal experiences and knowledge on everything the condition encompasses.

There are truths about dissociative identity disorder (DID) and me that I want you to know. I have held back sharing them with you, not because I am ashamed, but because I did not want to dishearten or discourage you about your own journey to wellbeing. Since I began writing for HealthyPlace, I've shared my stories of strength, courage, and hope as someone living with dissociative identity disorder. However, I must admit there is one story, one truth, I have not shared. (Note: This post contains a trigger warning.)

The dissociative identity disorder (DID) host in our system has a job similar to the host of a party. When I think of a host, I think of a man or woman attending to the needs of the party-goers, scurrying about a table of guests, flitting from room to room, checking on food and drink to make sure each guest has what he or she needs. A host may wear many hats, including a manager, entertainer, presenter, and all-around overseer to make sure the party runs smoothly. In DID, most systems have what is also called a “host,” which, in some ways, is very similar to a traditional host whom might manage the surrounding environment.

My name is Becca Hargis, and I am greatly excited to join the Dissociative Living blog.  I was first diagnosed in 1992 with dissociative identity disorder (DID), known then as multiple personality disorder; however, the stigma attached to the diagnosis made me run. I knew there was something not quite “right” about me, but I couldn’t accept that it was DID, so I fired my therapist. It took several more years and many more therapists, all of whom diagnosed me with DID, before I finally accepted it.

Hello everyone. My name is Crystalie Matulewicz, and I’ve been chosen to be one of the writers for the Dissociative Living blog here at HealthyPlace. I have recently earned my Bachelors of Arts in Psychology and will soon be pursuing my Masters in Mental Health Counseling. My two lifelong dreams have been to become a writer and to become a counselor, and now here I am getting so close to achieving both. My dissociative identity disorder diagnosis isn't holding me back.

This will be my final post for Dissociative Living as I will no longer be writing for HealthyPlace. I have enjoyed my time with this adventure of being a blogger, but it has now become too much for me to handle. I still struggle with many dissociative identity disorder (DID) symptoms, and lately they have been acting up.  It is becoming harder for me to be reliable and committed to this blog.

Hello, my name is Sherry Polley. I am currently 31 and living in Indianapolis, Indiana. I will be blogging for the Dissociative Living blog. I was formally diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder (DID) around 2008. I have since recovered from the disorder due to therapy and a miraculous medication. I had been living with the disorder for my entire life, and found it to be very confusing until I received and understood the diagnosis of DID. It wreaked havoc on my life and was very painful. I did a lot of unpleasant things when my alters would take over and my loved ones were very concerned about my behaviors. I am here to tell you that recovery is possible, from dissociative identity disorder as well as others. 

When my brother was little, he went to school one day, climbed on top of his desk, and screamed. He didn't say anything. He just screamed. Nobody asked him why. When he ran away from home a few years later, the pastor of our church came over, witnessed my father's performance as a remorseful parent, and didn't concern himself with what exactly my father had to feel so regretful about. When I was six, my mother took me to a doctor – one of my father's colleagues – who asked her what had happened to make me bleed. I don't remember what she told him. All I know is that it wasn't the truth. She didn't know the truth. Only I and my father did. And no one asked me. Of course, by then I already had dissociative identity disorder (DID). Who knows what I would've said if they'd asked.

My name is Holly Gray. I live in the Pacific Northwest United States with my 11-year-old son and a cat named Alex P. Keaton. My life has been a search for identity and a series of 180 degree turns that baffled and frightened me. I have been in and out of therapy since I was 14 and up until five years ago, found very few answers in the therapeutic process. I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder in early 2005. I wrestled with the diagnosis for several years before finally coming to terms with it. In doing so, I learned and unlearned a great deal about dissociation and DID.