The night strikes in once again. As I wake up from a nap, I feel more regenerated than the entire 9 hours of sleep I had today. My mind is quiet, my body feel rested but in the center of my chest something still agonizes me. I breathe in deeply as I become aware of my surroundings though not 100%. As I get up I can't help but to notice the anguish squeezing my chest almost begging for attention. My thoughts begin to spiral slowly as the quietness of the house in the late night hours becomes evident. I lay in the middle of my bed while lifting my feet and placing them on the wall making the blood circle. As I look into the ceiling I can't help but to notice the blankeness of it and how it perfectly matches my being in this state: empty. As I draw my attention to the ever so growing anguish, I try to breathe it away. I start reflecting on how much more grounded I feel after the nap but how all the problems that I label as DP or anxiety related aren't thoroughly gone. The apathy is clear, though i'm more grounded and aware. The fear that something irrational will happen and the blurry memories of the past 2 years flash my mind as I remind myself that I am still not healed: i'm just deeper in the darkness that consumes me. As in a moment of dissocation over dissociation ( if that is even possible), I notice myself seeing myself as if all of DP/Anxiety/Depression is gone but to my surprise I do not feel at peace nor do I feel the happiness that I imagine is on the other side of this condition. The feeling of emptiness and hollowness are still there. The feeling of being a blank canvas neither projecting nor feeling the energies, the realities, the people, the dreams, the sensations, the thoughts, the smells, the light, the darkness the LIFE in everything has become almost like my new identity: the passive observer that does not take part in reality but is merely watching it despite an action needing him to develop happening all the time continuously... or is it? Could it be that what I'm running from is the fact that there is no importance or significance behind mine or anybody's existence? That despite all the achievements be them superficial or "spiritual" are all mere illusions and that everything spirals towards death and death is the ultimate destination no one ever gets back from? Or could it be that my fear is indeed death? I don't remember ever fearing death per se. I had the normal human fear of the uknown of how you would die and the dark clouded feeling of imagining yourself not living. But dying itself is not something that I particularly focused, I was always more focused on living to feel that jubilant feeling on my chest. But throughout this whole DP process all of the anguishes that have struck me are related to time, how it goes by fast and how in an instant I will be old with no memories to tell and I'll be giving the typical " life has gone by so fast" speech that the elderly so typically give. So as I put it into perspective: this fear is another form of the fear of death. As a matter of fact looking at it, all of the fears stem from the fear of death. I am afraid time will pass so fast I will not have lived to the fullest therefore the inevitable, Death, does not give me time nor the space for manuever so I can achieve all that it is that I want. I fear death not directly but indirectly as do many people with other reasons such as being afraid of bugs, of planes, of the sea, of heights, etc. All of this has a common denominator in the fear of death. DP comes in as the hero trying to protect you from feeling this fear/anxiousness thus driving all of that is positive of yours, your identity, your basic notions to a place where they don't get hurt in basically a very deep dark hidden place of your mind that you can't consciously access most of the time, hence why it seems your brain has gone through a major fucked up emergency reset.
So as I lay here writing this, it becomes a bit more clear, but at the same time the anguish makes her way into my present moment. I can't identify a reason for it. It's a deep sadness, a need to cry and let it all out but as I allow myself to do it nothing comes out. Is it anxiety? My emotions have become so cryptic, volatile and incomprehensible that I cannot decode them. One minute I might be feeling on top of the world and the next minute as I watch something like a little dog abandoned in the streets, i'm left wanting to cry the whole pain of abandoned dogs. Or sometimes I wake up from intense dreams and I feel revitalized even if the content of said dreams are the most illogical things ever. Or sometimes where I don't dream I wake up feeling really anxious, sad, depressed but mostly with a heavy heart even if in the previous day I had the best day of my life. These are things that I only start noticing thoroughly now but have been with me since the beginning of this condition. There are so many weird and complex emotions and perspectives that assault me throughout the day as if i'm processing something or my brain is trying to rewire itself by boosting emotions through me to break the apathic shell it has built.
I'm a walking, living, breathing paradox. I live in a constant inner conflict as if I was at war with myself trying to protect something from myself when everything derives from me. The whole catch is: while this war is happening i'm sitting somewhere watching it unfold as I anxiously wait until the war ends so I can get back into the field and rebuild the cities that were broken. However i'm the only one with the power to end the war but i'm left believing i'm merely an observer and cannot interact with reality. And as if that wasn't enough i'm the awareness behind all of this in a never ending process of being aware of everything while not being aware of anything.