Five minutes til closing. As the manager of the garden center at the local hardware store I would have most of the daily closing duties all wrapped up and the drawers pulled from the registers by this time. Just waiting for the clock to wind down. Three minutes til closing, My mind would start to jump around frantically, Two..My breathing would grow rapid, one…sweat would begin to form in droves. Every day at this time I would call home. I never knew who would be on the other end. I was hoping it would be a friendly voice. It was never guaranteed that whoever answered would be the same person I arrived home to find, but it was all the preparation I had.
Multiple personality disorder was a scary enough view from the outside. The inside must have been complete chaos and insanity.
Some of them dominated more than others. Some only appeared a couple of times. It was hard to pin point just when it all started, or if it was there all along. I sometimes question if I ever really knew her at all. But when the evil ones started manifesting, my own sanity started being questioned.
There was the quiet, shy school girl who hardly ever spoke. There was the hard-drinking part girl who left buildings burnt to the ground in her wake. There was the grieving widow who cried all the time, the rich foreign supermodel, the meth addict, the middle-aged prostitute and the very loud and aggressive schizophrenic. There was the atoning, loving mother, the free-spirited waitress, and the stuck up, high-powered business executive. There was even the male detective, (voice and all). But it was the mentally challenged suicidal manic-depressive that scared me the most. There where many attempts, I remember one night waking up to an empty bed. I looked all around the house but she was nowhere to be found. then I looked out the living room window to the street below to see her lying on her back in the middle of the road. I opened the glass and yelled down, “What are you doing!” and she replied, “I am waiting for a car to run me over”. I just closed the window and went back to bed. We lived on a dead-end street after all.
The helplessness I felt was overwhelming. There were time I just wanted to leave work and keep driving, and never look back. Most people have no idea just how lucky they have it. Or how fragile sanity can be. I hated some of those people who shared their life with me through her. I was scared of a few. I loved a couple. But in the end I couldn’t help any of them. In the end we all lost.