Registration has been the talk of the town lately. Flyers, reminders, emails, seminars— how could you miss it?
I missed it, and I feel horrible about it.
I had all my important emails pinned, a reminder in my calendar, and all my classes lined up and ready— so when the clock struck 9 on Sunday night, I wouldn’t miss a beat. Even though I went through all that effort to stay on top of things, everything still went wrong.
I opened my phone on Monday morning, and my heart dropped. I had completely forgotten to register, and my advisor had reached out to tell me that he registered for me so I could catch my classes before they all filled up— a couple of them already had.
“This can’t be! I wasn’t supposed to register until—”
I checked the date, and sure enough, registration had passed.
I might have been there in the present, but I was stuck in the past— I couldn’t remember yesterday.
I have multiple identities: full-fledged people who show up or “front” depending on who’s best equipped for the current circumstances.
My baby sister alter, Emmy, was up Sunday night. And my brother, Louie, was out before that.
No matter how hard I try, sometimes I can’t control who’s going to be doing what, and sometimes that means I’m not there when it’s most important for me to be.
I never want to be someone who’s unreliable. But I’m not some-one. I’m caring for a whole family that other people can’t even see.
Every interaction is like a game of telephone between us. Instead of experiencing everything, we have to give a description of what’s been going on to the other alters in our system.
It’s not always perfect. A lot of times, I don’t know if I dreamt something or if it really happened. My alters’ memories are like snapshots of dreams.
I can’t remember being a kid. It’s like all of a sudden, I became conscious as an adult.
I can hold my alters’ memories, and I can see that little one in my mind— but it’s not me. It might as well be some random kid.
I know I was there, but I can’t remember it.
My body might have been there yesterday, but that doesn’t mean I was.
At the beginning of the semester, I tried to get priority registration, but I got hardly any accommodations, even with documentation. It doesn’t feel fair to have the last shot at registering when I can’t even guarantee I’ll be there for it, but it’s hard for someone with only a single identity to understand how difficult it can be.
I’m lucky to have an advisor who was there for me when I couldn’t be. I can only hope next year gives me a second chance.