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My Atypical Polyandrous Marriage

My marriage isn't your usual monogamous relationship... only my husband didn't cheat or bring home a few new and different wives... He multiplied into a few new and different husbands. Yet I have zero say in the matter. Ummm, what the fuck, you ask?

My husband has several mental health diagnoses, but DID (Dissociative Identify Disorder), or what most people would know as 'Multiple Personality Disorder' is the culprit here. I could give you a detailed description of some of the awful things he's experienced, the traumas, the very odd interactions I've had with 'alters', the treatments & therapy; but I won't, as the list would go on and on. I'm not writing this for anyone but myself, I am not asking for your pity or sympathies for my husband or myself and I am certainly not engaging in a debate over the validity of DID - so leave that shit at the door.

What's it generally like having a bunch of different husbands who all share the same physical body? Well, honestly, it can be truly draining. Most days I wake up not knowing which husband (or how many) I will have for the day, and/or various parts of it. Some days, it's not the man I married, and yes it wears me thin. The man I married 5+ years ago is amazing, kind, loyal, gentle, funny, understanding, accepting, and the list goes on. Basically he's wonderful in every way and I love him to bits! But, as I said, there's more than just that lovey dovey sexy man I married. My other husbands range from being selfish, rude, completely unaware of other people's feelings, while others are lethargic to the point of sleeping the day away. Some are child-like, making communication difficult (if not bringing it to a complete halt). Some are subtle, others... well, not so much. Blunt would be putting it gently.


When my true husband vanishes, I feel like I am slowly drowning, and his alters are just content to watch, whichever one happens to be present at the time. No matter how hard I splash, flail my arms around and scream for mercy; he doesn't hear or see me. For he has become someone else, someone other than the wonderful man I married, and he continues to hold my husband hostage, and push me further and further below water. But no matter how painful it gets, no matter how long my real husband stays hidden inside, I can only patiently wait for his return. I love this man to death, and no matter how many other husbands show up and mascaraed around as him, I can only hope that each new day brings back the man I married. Somewhere inside I know he is still very much there. I get glimpses of him every so often before he is quickly taken away.

Of course, things aren't always quite so bumpy. Recently he has restarted a medication that was very helpful in the past, and we're both hoping to start seeing some positive effects again soon. Although compared to how severely debilitating this disorder has been on him previously, the past few months have been a bit easier. But no matter how good or bad things are on any one given day, he's still the man I married and love; and will continue to do so for the rest of my existence (regardless of how many of him there may be).


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