Deraeling

I'm currently feeling and thinking things that, were they frequent and severe enough to interfere with my daily functioning, would probably fall under symptoms of a depersonalization disorder. I've tried to describe this before as "not feeling like a person," or "feeling like i'm not real," or "not recognizing myself." This state would come over me often when I was young- maybe 7 years old- and have been coming and going ever since. I start to question the reality of myself and my identity. If I see myself in a mirror, I don't see the reflection as something that belongs to me. My thoughts make no sense. When I was younger, these feelings would send me into a full-fledged panic; I would break down crying thinking that the people around me weren't real either. These days there is less of that, but I'm still full of anxiety. I never knew what triggered these thoughts, and I can't think of any direct causes for my current state, but this time I think I see some potential connections.

My health has been on a general decline for the past month... two months? I'm really not sure. Time has been flying by, even when my days are dragging along. My social energies are even lower and diminish even more quickly than nornal. Thank goodness that I've actually managed to get used to a lot of things at work, so I can switch on "cashier mode" and go through the motions without straining myself most of the time. I can't stop sleeping. My appetite has left me, and then returned to devour everything, on and off again. My hair is coming out in larger chunks than normal, though I can't say for sure whether that actually has anything to do with my emotional status. 

These, along with other small things are like blaring alarms- but the kind that don't really rouse you to take action because they're probably coming from the neighbor's car, which goes off every effing night without fail. The part I hate most about this mixture of murkiness is how it's affecting my relationship with you. 

You are inarguably the most important person in my life, and yet I feel like I haven't been living out ways that show that. I feel like I can't talk to you. I still want to pursue knowing you, but I feel almost afraid to ask you anything. You are the one closest and most intimate with me, but when I'm stuck in my head and I look at you to say something, my thoughts/words are still stuck in there. Part of me says that it wouldn't matter anyway; that even if I were able to articulate the chaos inside of me, it would be a waste of your time for me to do so. It's not your problem, and I'm better off sitting down and staying quiet and out of your way because you're having hard times too. 

Sometimes it's ok- even really good- to talk less and enjoy each other's touch, but now it seems like that's all I have to give you. You've called me yours, but I wonder how you can stand to interact with me. I wonder how long you'll be able to hold on to a relationship that has nothing good or nourishing to give you that you can't easily get from other sources. I know better than to give too much credence to those thoughts, since that's the same part of me that wonders how fast I have to be driving to wrap my car around the circumference of a large tree trunk, or what neck of the woods my grandfather and his rescue team won't find me in, or how much brain damage I'll suffer if I try an exit strategy and fail. 

It's hard for me to care about most things right now, but I still care a lot about you and how my continued unhealth affects you and how I [mis]treat you and our relationship. I want to be better for you, and I'm currently gathering my willpower so I can start maybe identifying stuff and doing things about it. Blogging feels stupid and pointless right now, but it's doing something for now. I'm sorry that this is garbage nonsense. I'm sorry for emotional absence, and for not functioning properly, and for not loving you the way i fiercely want and need to.