depersonalisation

I must warn you reader, this post contains aspects of disturbing mental health problems, including but not limited to self harm, suicide and much more. Please read at your own risk. If you are experiencing any of the symptoms reach out to a hotline.

I have not been honest with anyone in the past few weeks, some even months. The reason is I am lost. Lost gripe from what is real and what is not. I have been subjected to various degrees of stress and anxiety and feel like my skin is not my own. The masks I have put up are crumbling. A flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas. The flap is rock bottom and I am Texas.

A Falling Spark

Let us go all the way back, October 2024. I liked a girl—well more than liked. She felt like she could have been my almost everything. Teenage love amirite? Safe to say, the romcoms that play out in my head, well, they just exist up there. So many mixed signals that I tried applying Fourier Transforms, there were of no help. It is well known I am socially incapable, more so ever since this place. Maybe she was telling no along, she is, I have still not let her away from my thoughts.

I do not like my birthday. There are exactly three people in this place who know it, and I intend to keep it that way. She is one of them. I have heard from my other mutual friends, "She definitively likes you. Just go for it." My gut knew otherwise and my suspicions were confirmed few months ago when she called up asking for my birthdate. Our campus WiFi network uses our ID and birthdate as the login, and not everyone has access, which is very unfortunate yes. You do not forget the birthday of someone you like, let alone a friend. That is a principle I live by. It hurt me very much that she had forgotten, even though it was off by a day, it mattered to me nonetheless. To add even more insult to injury she had broken my trust, as I heard that her roommates also use mine. A blatant abuse of privacy.

You must be asking, "What is the big deal in all of this, like why do you care if people know your birthday so much?" I believe it is intimate. Something only people you are close with should know. And frankly, I hate it. I grew up watching my classmates, relatives and on TV have these awesome parties. I had none. I was not invited either. It is very hard to express in words, but it is disheartening to say the least that my niche and weird interests are popular now. No clue what to me being shunned because I liked those. Anyways, back on track—The last birthday cake I had, I cried all afternoon on that day, I was just six then. And every year after that something terrible always happens on that day. I have given up now. No one is worthy, nay, I am not worthy of it—It is just another day.

Back to her, I knew it was over then. It fell upon me, a wave of ruin and relentlessness. All the months I have tried devoting my time and care and emotion to do whatever she likes just in shambles. I hid it well, rather too well. I think what is happening now is that uncovering itself. I had some money left in my savings and I decided to attend three sessions of therapy. Or so did I think. Everything is a haze now, I do not know if it happened or not, everything that I knew to be true could just be a mist. I have the messages to prove I got myself some help but it did not feel real. I was better yes, but it did not feel real. I always could feel the dominoes crashing, but I think that set off everything, I questioned everything I knew about myself, am I even real?

I had few posts about her up here, but now they are archived, not gone, but no one gets to read those. It should be a constant remind er that I should jump into things just because of a pretty smile. I cannot obviously blame it on her. She is perfect, and she did not ask for any of this. I am not perfect. And I am not holding her on my head or on a pedestal. She is gone to me. We are still friends, but I am distancing myself from her. I have changed the contact to a generic default one, moved all the photos of her to my Secure Folder so I will not be reminded of her every time I open my gallery. This post contains many truths I have not said to anyway and I am ashamed. Alas, it is all my fault, I knew these things were not for me. Writing this has unlocked more core memories for me that will be discussed further below.

Disconnection

According to Wikipedia:

Depersonalization is a dissociative phenomenon characterized by a subjective feeling of detachment from oneself, manifesting as a sense of disconnection from one's thoughts, emotions, sensations, or actions, and often accompanied by a feeling of observing oneself from an external perspective.
...
Depersonalization is a symptom of anxiety disorders, such as panic disorder. It can also accompany sleep deprivation (often occurring when experiencing jet lag), migraine, epilepsy (especially temporal lobe epilepsy, complex-partial seizure, both as part of the aura and during the seizure), obsessive-compulsive disorder, severe stress or trauma, anxiety.

It makes sense. Other than the epilepsy and OCD I have experienced all and still experiencing some. I did not realise what it was till a few weeks ago and I am glad to know it now. I am certain this has been brewing within me for a while. And it activated when I boarded the bus to hell. I have felt this for a while and it has started expressing itself more. I have had dreams so real that I could not take it anymore. I do not remember the particulars of that dream, but I remember jolting awake in the middle of the night, heading to my desk, unscrewing the sharper's blade and about to slit some lines onto myself. I did not. I stopped. It is bloody hot for anything and I would not be able to cover up the scars anymore. I do not have the energy to do so. The old ones have healed and I do not wish for new ones even though the thrill exists. I should have probably told my therapist about it, but alas it would have required more sessions, in turn meaning more I have to spend and I had none. But it was terrifying and I had no one to run to, so I sucked it all up. I slowly fixed the blade again and went back to sleep.

I knew I had to get my life in order then, but as things go I hit an indefinite slump. The timelines of all these events are messy and I am having a hard time recollecting when they happened. And as a side effect, I have become very emotionless now, even through all of my masks, which only one I can put on. The one where I act carefree, but that too only in person. Every single time my mum has video called me over the past few months, I have a stoic and nonchalant play on. Well not a play, but default mode. I have not been calling or texting anyone lately, and even if I do it is very late and the responses I give are not a good look on me. My mum was/is obviously upset by this so much my dad had to call me (which he usually never does for these stuff) and asked me to take the initiative to call and text mum first. I cannot get myself to do it. She knows something is wrong and I cannot tell it her. It is stupid. And I do have a feeling she would not understand, since my family and I kind of always disregarded any mental health talk. My mum does sense something is wrong. I mentioned my right Airpod had static when I increased the volume beyond a certain amount, and she offered to buy me a new one. That has not happened to me before. Same when I sent over a really fancy pen. She also asked the expensive colour pencil set I wanted. I have never experienced this and I hate people gifting me expensive stuff. I like it that she is trying to help me feel better, but no. I have been wayyyy too suicidal lately and only thing that is stopping me is my little sister. I adore and love her so much and I cannot bare to see or imagine her face when she thinks I am gone. There is a reason I do not buy the reusable shaving kit. There are many times I have contemplated swallowing a bunch of blades, it feels like it will not hurt much and be a quicker death.

I have hurt people before, even when they were the nicest bunch to exist. I know I am inherently selfish, I do not like people touching my stuff or me. There is much hate and resentment in me. I think I have always been this sensitive and paranoid. But the paranoia has gone beyond infinitely once I realised what is happening with me. I cannot distinguish what is a reality and what is a dream anymore for the most part. The real things are well real, but I have too much of an imagination and sensation to merge it my REM thoughts. Sometimes these dreams can be nice and beautiful, that makes me yearn, please comeback, I want to think about those again. I had one like that recently,

It was a normal campus day. During the break hour, me, her, mutual friend M1 and M2 went to explore the campus. After roaming for a while, we found an empty room in an empty hallway. There was a bed beside the window. We entered the room and I went to lay by the window, while M2 laid on the other side (There was plenty of room on the bed and in between us.) She and M1 where scrolling something on M1's phone by the door while I use using mine on the bed. After sometime she made her way towards me, I inched over a bit to give her enough space to sit down. She did sit down. Then slid beside me. Our whole sides touching. She turns over to me. At that point my heart was breathing fast, pupils dilated, blood flow everywhere quadrupled, breath heaving and goosebumps.

After a few seconds she hopped on top of me and I mostly lost my mind by then. Our eyes centimetres apart, our lips grazing each other, mine wanting more. I was about to speak and she pressed her lips against mine. She held my chin and her hair fell around me. My eyes still wide open trying to comprehend what the hell was actually happening. I played along, wanting to get closer to her, I pushed harder against her head, but she pulled back, with her finger over my mouth, "No, not now," she whispered softly. I did not resist. She laid her head against my chest. All I could do was wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, I was scared to take a breath, did not want her to move even my body tried fighting otherwise. It was like that for the duration of the break.
After classes she invited me to go to this river place with her but I declined due to still being in shock. I ran back to the dorms, first thing I did was go to Y's room, and I had this grin on my face. He asked, "Oh no, what is it with you now?" I dragged him out and I just fell to the floor. Got backup, held his shoulders and jumped. I recollected what had happened and told him everything.

At that point I knew something was not right. I woke up. I woke up mad, frustrated and very sad. There should have been a few dead giveaways that this was all a bullshit dream:

Our campus is not nice enough to have empty hallways and rooms, let alone there being a bed.
Her wanting be close with me.
M1 and M2 just ignoring it.
The position of Y's bed and bathroom door being very very different from what is there irl.
L doing laundry in Y's bathroom, like what?

"You were dreaming, no way you could have known all this was happening." No, I did not know this was a dream, and you just read my erotica. But every single thought, every single voice, every damn fucking touch, sensation and emotion were real. I had thoughts that I would only think off if I was properly conscious. I woke up with those feelings and goosebumps still on me. Almost everything was too accurate. I wanted it to be real really fucking bad. I screamed internally and I broke down crying. That was my tipping point. I had instances were it was hard to distinguish real from faux, but this was so hard and so unbelievable. I spiraled again. I feel like I will end up in intensive psychotic care soon. This is a place I vent it out hoping it helps. It is really hard moving on from someone. Even though you have not been with them, there will always be a taste lingering deep within you. Oh the things I would give up to just go back into her arms, kiss till lips bruise, and hold her real tight to me. I know it is all over, but just a chance to be with her—if the stars themselves aligned, even if it is for a fleeting—I would burn like Icarus soaring to her.

As you grow, you realise a few things. You lose your innocence and finally see people for what they are. I have not been liked by the relatives on my father's side. "Family together strong", fucking bullshit. They are fine with my younger brother but my sister also they dislike. Looking back, I have been excluded in many of the things. I remember when my cousins went to buy things they would get one for my brother but not me. I do not heed to these, but it has hurt my mum and I do not like that. There are various places my hatred stems from and this is one of those. Like why cannot you all just get along.

An Ultimatum

I had a very dear friend of mine text me. I met him online during Covid-19. Till 2022, me and him played Minecraft all night an day. We had the opposite time zones so we worked it out. He bought me Minecraft on my birthday, and I still remember the message he sent me then. It is a very core memory for me and it is the one birthday which I do not hate. After a while, schools reopened and we both had to go back to school and kind of fell out of touch. We last spoke in November 2024 and today he texted me. The amount of joy that rushed over me, man, I have not felt like that in ages. I think I am not missing those times, I think I am missing the person I was back then going through these moments. We talked for a bit, but man did it feel so refreshing and nice. This and me writing this post over the past few weeks have unlocked so much memories buried deep within me. During the elementary–middle school years, I had this friend L. We had the same bus stop and same class and we were close man. All the projects we used to do. She used to bring strawberry milkshakes to school that she made, but I never liked them, but I always drank them. She was a good friend. She had to move abruptly and I think that is were my abandonment issues stemmed from. The things I would do to just ask her if she remembers me and ask her how she has been, man.

Another thing I am afraid of is people leaving me once they find who I am really. This can be stated as an extension of abandonment issue, but it genuinely terrifies me. I know they will understand me, but I also distress that they will not look at me the same anymore. Again, I really do not feel like I belong in my own skin and I think they will see the monster underneath me. The song What It Sounds Like from K-pop Demon Hunters (Terrible name, but amazing film) sums a bit of what I am facing right now,

Nothing but the truth now
Nothing but the proof of what I am
The worst of what I came from, patterns I'm ashamed of
Things that even I don't understand

I tried to fix it, I tried to fight it
My head was twisted, my heart divided
My lies all collided
I don't know why I didn't trust you to be on my side

I broke into a million pieces, and I can't go back
But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like

Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head?
I should've let the jagged edges meet the light instead
Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony
The song we couldn't write, this is what it sounds like

I am still at the part trying to find the beauty in all the broken glass, but I do have some hope left in me I will make it. Only demotivating factor is that this place sucks. I do not deserve this and they do not deserve me. I am better. I have practically no use for most lectures offered here. I grew up with computers and I like them more than humans. But imagine taking a computer specific course and being surrounded by schmucks that do not have a single clue of how a computer operates and still type like primates. It pisses me off on multiple levels. I think all the bad things I have done are finally catching up to me. It is quite funny. The good news is I can turn off my brain and numb it out, bad news is I have to do this for two more years.

This was an entitled post. But I could not just take it anymore. I was bursting with all these feelings, many more too, I just seem to have forgotten about those for now. I will write more once they come back. But I will not know what will exist of me by then, or if I will exist by then. It is a very scary thought for me. I may act fearless, or well, put on the everything-is-fine mask, but I know the truth and I am easily terrified of many things. Funny thing was, I was the productive I have ever been in the past five months, which is something and I will take it. This is all for now.
Cheers.