Living with Dissociation
Living with dissociation. You know that feeling when you're watching a movie, but it feels like you're watching through a foggy window? That's been my everyday reality for as long as I can remember.
When I finally got diagnosed, it was actually a relief. It explained why I always felt like I was floating outside my body, watching my life play out like a strange TV show. Why conversations sometimes felt muffled, like I was underwater, and why memories often felt like they belonged to someone else.
Life always felt disconnected for me. I'd look in the mirror and barely recognize myself. Simple things like feeling hunger, or knowing if I was tired, became mysteries. I'd go through entire days on autopilot, only to realize later I couldn't remember what I'd done or who I'd talked to.
But here's the thing - I've been learning to reconnect with the world, and it's like slowly turning up the brightness on a dimmed screen. I started with small things, like really focusing on the sensation of hot water during showers, or the texture of different foods while eating. I learned to ground myself by touching different surfaces - rough, smooth, cold, warm - anything to remind myself that I'm here, present in this moment.
Learning to feel my emotions again has been the hardest part. It's like trying to catch smoke with your hands. Sometimes emotions come rushing back all at once, overwhelming and intense. Other times, they're still distant echoes. I've learned to keep an emotion journal, noting down physical sensations that might indicate feelings - a tight chest might mean anxiety, a lightness in my steps could be happiness.
On a typical bad day, the dissociation hits hard. The world looks like it's behind glass, voices sound far away, and my own body feels like a stranger's. But now I have tools to cope. I use grounding techniques - holding ice cubes, smelling strong scents like peppermint, or doing jumping jacks. Sometimes I just need to ride it out, reminding myself that this too shall pass.
It's not always easy, and recovery isn't linear. Some days are better than others. But I'm learning that healing isn't about never dissociating again - it's about building a life where I can manage it, where I can find my way back when I drift away. And most importantly, I'm learning that I'm not alone in this experience. There are others out there who understand, who are also finding their way back to feeling present and connected.
Remember, if you're experiencing something similar, it's okay to reach out for help. This isn't something you have to figure out alone. We're all just trying to find our way back to ourselves, one small step at a time