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Good Girl Syndrome Gave Me a Dissociative Disorder
I had officially become “The Good Girl,” and all it cost me was my sense of self
I learned how to dissociate at seven years old.
My older brother, Scott, developed bipolar disorder when he hit puberty. After his first stint in an inpatient facility, he refused further treatment, and his episodes got worse and worse.
I saw how other people’s emotions escalated his own. My father’s frustration made him angry. My mother’s anxiety was met with eye rolls and manipulation. His girlfriend’s innocent comments snowballed into explosive arguments.
One day, it hit me: If I don’t have emotions, he can’t use them against me. He’ll listen to me.
It worked.
Every time I compartmentalized my feelings and instead used unbiased, detached logic, Scott mirrored my calmness. He put down the scissors. He unlocked the bathroom door. He got into the ambulance. By the time I hit puberty myself, I’d successfully talked him out of several suicide attempts.
But my brother wasn’t the only person who responded well to this newfound talent.
Everyone around me (parents, teachers, and friends) praised me for being calm. Brave. Mature. Reasonable. Selfless…
