Me, Myselves and I I have written this article using the word ‘myselves’ repeatedly. This is not a spelling error. I always refer to mysleves in the plural because there is more than one of me.
By Julie Bagwash
My creative journey began back in 2004, when after years of services only going on about my negative behaviour and consequences, finally someone nurtured something positive in me. I was finally diagnosed with having personality disorders and complex post traumatic stress disorder at the age of 41. Before this diagnosis I was told that I suffered from depression throughout long periods of my life. Professionals first noticed my self-harm when I was 14 years old. There have been many traumatic events and negative experiences throughout my life, which lead me to perceive the world very differently to how others see it. As a child when I could not cope with the harsh reality of the real world I would submerge myselves in the underwater world of Jacques Cousteau on the TV. The vibrancy of colour and the warm safety of the waters was a safe place for me to
immerse myselves in and dissociate from reality. This was and still is a coping strategy I use today to keep safe when struggling to engage or connect with the world around me. Part of my disorder is that I have two prominent personalities that I have to deal with every day. There is the two-headed monster, which is my internal destroyer, and when that rears its ugly heads all the negative and darkness engulfs me. Then there is the mermaid my inner child and when she surfaces it is time to reconnect and play. I do this through my art. My personality disorder means that I struggle to contain thoughts, feelings and emotions and therefore find it difficult to connect with them If I do manage to connect then it’s the containing of those emotions in a way that isn’t self defeating/ self harm/ negative behaviour. I spent my fortieth birthday strapped to a bed in a hospital in Mallorca Spain. I was on that bed for four weeks and I truly felt this was the end of my life. Here I am though coming up to my fiftieth birthday next May and instead of my life ending I feel it has just begun. Only now in my forties have I found the real Julie. The Julie who is allowed to express herself and not have to keep all the pain and deep sadness to myselves. I have at last got a voice and my goodness, do I make use of it. No longer will I allow myselves to be ashamed of who or what I am. This is me the complete package. Lke it or lump it, it’s your choice.
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