Grandma Bria sat on the soft couch of the well-decorated private clinic, dabbing the corner of her eye with a lace handkerchief. Her acting was flawless...years of manipulation had made her a master at fake tears. Her posture was elegant, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere.
"I just got to know… my grandson has DID," she sniffled, her lips trembling. "I didn't even know when or how this happened. Why would he hide such a thing from me? I raised him with all my love…"
Across from her, the seasoned physiotherapist..Dr. Kalra, a calm, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair..nodded empathetically, though his eyes remained sharp. He'd seen many types of families, and not all tears were honest.
"DID patients tend to hide their condition from others," he explained gently. "They feel ashamed, exposed. Their personalities protect them. The mind splits itself to survive trauma. Especially childhood trauma."
