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Thank you for existing...

932 views 6 replies 5 participants last post by  peacedove 
G
#1 ·
Because, had I not found this forum, I would still feel like the loneliest person alive. I don't know when my DP/DR first manifested itself, it's been with me for so long it almost IS the reality. Maybe it was when I was four, insomniac, and for a week, rather than sleeping, would just cry in bed because I realized that if I would see the sun rise, then I would see it set, ad infinitum, and everytime the moment would feel just as "real" and therefore one day I would die and lose it all. That although my days, when I slept, felt episodic and infinite, like television, there was actually a linear and inexorabley self-effacing flow of time. Someday, I would cease to exist and forget this all, so why must I be tormented by caring about it? And then, this defense mechanism in my head kicked in, and although I couldn't forget it, that I would die, I also couldn't care...

I wish I knew what people thought of me, but I can't, because I look in a mirror and find I don't have an opinion myself. I can't tell if I'm attractive, or fat or slim, or if my nose is big, or my eyes a normal size, or my hair clean, or anything. People compliment me on dressing up when I thought I was dressing down, or ridicule me for a fashion faux pas I never anticipated. And often, when other people talk to me, I'm amazed, flabbergasted, because I'd forgotten I exist. Sometimes, in crowds, I'm paralyzed, because I realize that my every action, like the flapping of a butterfly's wings, will have infinite, unpredictable repercussions on the future - and what right have I to do that? I think, and leave such weighty tasks to others who seem to know better than I.

Somehow I managed to fake mental competence long enough to get into a prestigious college, but I'm so tired of hiding it, it makes me so sad, even if I do get strange looks now that I've stopped faking happiness, skipped classes, covered my walls in bitter crayon jeremiads about reality and despair and a philosophy I call absurdo-nihilism...

I hope I don't fail out. Trivial things take me hours. I space out in showers and use up all the hot water standing stock still or mumbling to myself, trying to assuage fear, anxiety, confusion, or loneliness. Sometimes I fall asleep in class with my eyes open. I feel so tired, and I'm so bored, and then I hear music that isn't there and words written on a blackboard or spoken to me twist into surreal combinations I know can't be right...

My roommate thinks I sleep around twelve hours a day. He thinks I'm faking sleep, because I'll respond if he's talking to me. I don't think he understands how indistinguishable waking and dreaming are for me. How my dreams are as distorted and broken and narratively-unsound as my waking unlife is.

I hope I don't fail. But then again, I can't convince myself that just because I don't enjoy my life, I'm doing it wrong. It's strange when your version of optimism is hoping you're right about how shitty you secretly believe everything is.

Wow. This was cathartic. But, then again, the internet always has felt more real than reality. And is that so wrong?
 
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#7 ·
i relate to many of the things you wrote about. I recognize that area code. My house phone has the same one. I would call you, but I'm too shy.

I would write more, but I can never get my thoughts out the way I want and so a lot of times I say nothing at all.

I'm glad you found us.
 
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