I was catapulted into the then-uncharted territory of
Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) - previously multiple personality disorder - one day in the early 70's, when a woman client I had been seeing for almost 2 years, came for her regular session and remarked that I had painted my walls a different colour and wasn't there someone who played the piano in one of the other rooms of the flat? I was a bit taken aback - I hadn't had any painting done recently and no-one lived in that room any more. In those days, I was a recently qualified psychotherapist and much as it pains me to admit it, I took notes in sessions. On this particular day it stood me in good stead. Writing down her observations helped me to think. I'd seen and read "
The Three Faces of Eve", I'd seen "
Sybil". Was I sitting with such a person?
"When were you last here?" I asked - as of-course anyone would, who was certain they'd seen their client for their usual session the previous week! "I came once when
She was drunk," came the immediate insouciant reply.
