Homour: Without it we are nothing.
Although neither my child psychotherapist who I saw from thirteen to eighteen and the adult psychotherapist I saw from eighteen gave me a D.I.D diagnosis I am remember more and more about alters presenting themselves during sessions. My child therapist had toys in her room and used to stare at them a lot sometimes. I played with them at some point, with an alter I couldn't share consciousness with. As an adult I remembering making my shrink laugh, I would try to be serious but these voices inside me were much more interested in trench/slave humour. They are very good at it, they would make shrink laughs so much he would have to take his glasses of and wipe his eyes. Then they would hit him with the hard stuff.
I lost my comedy duos along the way but I'm looking for them now. They were so unflinching they saw the heart of the matter in everything and made it more palatable by making it funny. Mixing the horror of reality in with puns, observations and jokes in a way that could get right to peoples hearts and make them gasp. The humour disarmed them and left them open to exposure to the truth.
It was so powerful to answer back with wit, while chained to a cross, or after rape. Humour embodies a spirit of resistance that is life loving and infectious. It exposes hypocrisy and undermines authority. They hated it and it was hit hard. Not even I could make jokes about dead babies but there was always the relief that they were free.
We have to laugh at dictators, abusers, what they do to us and what we become. It helps separate us from subjugation, rises us above it all without denying reality in any way. I wish I could think of examples but they don't work much out of context. I do remember being locked up in a hut in a jungle clearing somewhere, there was lots of other huts with other prisoners. There was torture and questions I don't remember what about. I shouted 'Oi your contravening our human rights', and 'I demand a lawyer' at the confused looking patrolling uniformed types. There was laughter from the other huts, some of them started to join in to. I guess you had to be there.
I lost my comedy duos along the way but I'm looking for them now. They were so unflinching they saw the heart of the matter in everything and made it more palatable by making it funny. Mixing the horror of reality in with puns, observations and jokes in a way that could get right to peoples hearts and make them gasp. The humour disarmed them and left them open to exposure to the truth.
It was so powerful to answer back with wit, while chained to a cross, or after rape. Humour embodies a spirit of resistance that is life loving and infectious. It exposes hypocrisy and undermines authority. They hated it and it was hit hard. Not even I could make jokes about dead babies but there was always the relief that they were free.
We have to laugh at dictators, abusers, what they do to us and what we become. It helps separate us from subjugation, rises us above it all without denying reality in any way. I wish I could think of examples but they don't work much out of context. I do remember being locked up in a hut in a jungle clearing somewhere, there was lots of other huts with other prisoners. There was torture and questions I don't remember what about. I shouted 'Oi your contravening our human rights', and 'I demand a lawyer' at the confused looking patrolling uniformed types. There was laughter from the other huts, some of them started to join in to. I guess you had to be there.
