I'll give away an ending of a thread of my memoirs away right now. I don't have a split personality anymore. An old email signature of mine read, "Harnessing Stupidity Since 1991." I picked 1991 partly to be random but also partly as a private reference to a period of re-integration which marked the end of the split for me.
For the record, I don't think "dissociative identity disorders" are disorders. They're just styles of being. So I don't much care about the debate the psychiatrists have over whether they "exist" as disorders or not.
[Upper right: Not my problem.]
I also don't like that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is called a disorder. It's like calling a scab a disorder. If you know anything about scabs, you know that they amazing wonders of healing.
You would never call someone who'd been injured sick for having a scab. You would call someone who was injured and bleeding sick when a scab didn't form.
Anyway, the fact that I can recall the Hawaiian years as easily as I can is due to that 1991 re-integration.
The memories were never lost. But they were always Alaka'i's memories, so they were accessible only when Alaka'i was "out." So I couldn't have written these memoirs unless Alaka'i came out for long enough. The re-integration shared memories so it no longer mattered anymore.
The reason the memories were segregated to start with was to protect Kona from the knowledge that my parents had been so mean to me, so that he would be capable of loving them.
My parents died in 1978 and 1980. After that it was no longer necessary for any part of me to love them.
But in 1952, when I was 3, that was an urgent need.
For a while Alaka'i spent time trying to create edited versions of the events of the previous 3 years that would cover up the abuse, so that Kona could have as long a past as he did. But it was too complicated. So he finally gave up and let Kona only remember back to his own creation.