Thoughts on Dissociation

Since I was a little girl, I have dealt with a "half-dream” world. Feeling not fully grounded, connected or aware of myself or my surroundings. My feet touch the floor, while my mind floats far above, in beautiful clouds that contain both extraordinary creativity and eerie detachment.

I remember being 8 years old or so, saying “I feel like I'm not really here.” I would try to explain the feeling to my parents pretty often, and, looking back, wonder how I could even tell the difference between “here” and “not here.”

That must mean that in very early life I had a more normal sense of reality, a “grid” for what life should feel like. How else would I notice when things felt off? When I started drifting and “dissociating?” Something had changed.

Part of me had left and I didnt know how to fully come back into myself. Im still waiting for the answer to that predicament.

I am both the hot air balloon and the basket trying to weigh it down. The basket holds the heavy efforts on my part to get better, to be healthy, to be present and productive, even positive in the face of cruel circumstances.

But despite my resistance, education on the matter and the ironic realization-of-derealization, the balloon has a will of it's own, and sometimes cuts free from the basket all together, going where it pleases in an atmosphere I probably created subconsciously at an age too early to remember.

Pathways were formed for protection that have never been unlearned. If I don't know when or where this started, how can I know where to return for the undoing of it?

Bipolar Disorder 1, ADHD and PTSD are a few of the "credentials" hanging on my mental office wall. But look in the desk and you will find the real culprit; Trauma...

More on all of this in bits and pieces soon...

For now, try to enjoy whatever balloon ride you are on! No judgement from me.