I hope that
yet another effort to describe my thoughts is tolerable. If not, well, I am out of luck. I think that the following text is the best description
for today.
Saying it in a phrase: Things are taking place, but I am cut off from the whole procedure
My thoughts are weird. Not the issues, but the process itself.
Like there is something wrong but I cannot become more specific. It's like my thoughts have no base. I will define
base: a completely stable place, a center of acceptances that every other thought begins from. Something that cannot be shaked in no way. A place where you can step on and start to move on other things.
My consideration/regard about the world, myself, and all the things I percieve are
like absent, or have very small impact on my mind in order to charactirize them "realistic" (I have a reason for not using the word "real").
The meanings, the objects. the people, are not familiar, or the familiarity is changing face/type and I cannot catch up.
I am usually in a kind of sleep, where there is something like an assurance ("I assure you") about incidents and their impact. Here is an attempt to make an image of my feeling: I am standing on a soft pillow but the pillow is hovering above the void
nothingness).
On some other moments, the incidents feel like awfully strange, and somtimes this is escorted by a changing of the colours' contrast of my vision. Examples of incidents: a raindrop, an explosion, or me calling a friend with his name.
I am in doubt of every single description I make about my condition. I usually absorb any abnormalities that I notice and keep myself in this "sleep" I mentioned above. There are times I am saying "this", but other times that I am saying "that" (instability between descriptions, but there are boundaries on the variety of descriptions). All this time, I am thinking that descriptions were not correct.
If I could, I would start every phrase of this description with "I think that...". But it would be "too much".
I have no way to confirm my thoughts. The weight of my things is varying.
Sometimes (like now) I don't actually believe that I am living. I have this thought (or rather "feeling") that I have been in my bed for the last few years, and all the things I see, hear, and do (like writing this text right now) is a delusion.
When I notice an incident and turn my focus on it, it's essense is changing in a strange way: like it never existed. Examples of such incidents: I understand a meaning, something that I recently learned (knowledge of something, like biology), someone tells me some news, someone agrees with me.
I am forgeting my past descriptions of my symptoms or I remember them but it feels like there weren't mine descriptions.
By the time I got writing till this point, I had forgoten what I had written so far.
Feels like I am touching only the surface of things.
The reasons that I do things, always involves a level of fogginess.
Sometimes I have no motive to do things that are necessary, like eat, answer the phone, etc.
I am 70% confused. This means that there are things that I can keep doing, and apparently, what is preventing me to do things is the lack of "pleasure" that I recieve from the world.
When I read my text again it was feeling very distant from the things that I wrote.
I can predict that if anyone sais "I can relate to this" I will instantly stop believing that I have that "symptom".
