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Quote by Olga Trujillo

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The Sum of My Parts: A Survivor's Story of Dissociative Identity Disorder

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Olga Trujillo

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“Inner Architecture is the skill of crafting your soul into a place so real and so tangible that you step into this area every time you look into your own eyes and other people step into this place every time they encounter you. What kind of place are you? What are the smells, sounds, colours? What kind of people can access this place and how do they get there? How does this place feel to all those who step into it? How does it feel to you? Is there food? What kind of food? What does the food taste like and what does it do for you? Each person is a place. It is not a matter of asking "what kind of person am I?",rather, it is a matter of asking, "what place am I?”

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“We're all on our own, aren't we? That's what it boils down to. We come into this world on our own- in Hawaii, as I did, or New York, or China, or Africa or Montana- and we leave it in the same way, on our own, wherever we happen to be at the time- in a plane, in our beds, in a car, in a space shuttle, or in a field of flowers. And between those times, we try to connect along the way with others who are also on their own. If we're lucky, we have a mother who reads to us. We have a teacher or two along the way who make us feel special. We have dogs who do the stupid dog tricks we teach them and who lie on our bed when we're not looking, because it smells like us, and so we pretend not to notice the paw prints on the bedspread. We have friends who lend us their favorite books. Maybe we have children, and grandchildren, and funny mailmen and eccentric great-aunts, and uncles who can pull pennies out of their ears. All of them teach us stuff. They teach us about combustion engines and the major products of Bolivia, and what poems are not boring, and how to be kind to each other, and how to laugh, and when the vigil is in our hands, and when we have to make the best of things even though it's hard sometimes. Looking back together, telling our stories to one another, we learn how to be on our own.”

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“They say I am a brave girl I'm a hailstorm for the rain I'm a volcano for the mountain I'm a diamond for the stone And I wonder if I can be real me. I see the crowd I hear the noise I keep my patience. But inside I want to scream Yes I want to scream like hell. And when she call me on phone, I wonder how she knows it. I wonder how she hears those silent words.. How she sees those forbidden tears... I wonder how she knows I am missing somewhere...”

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