Disillusionment

"Life is like a dream, you know, it's never ending."

Do you ever wake up? Moments of a dreamlike existence interspersed suddenly and randomly by the horrified realisation of your condition? That moment when everything is suddenly made clear to you? The fakeness our world?

How horrible must the world be to force a person to dissociate in order to exist with at least some form of sanity? It often seems like those who are most lucid are often those who are the most unsettled by this world. What horrors does the mind save itself from by doing this?

My mind operated in such a blank state as to prevent me from breaking down throughout much of my life. I operated, machine-like in my ways, until I had been an adult. Upon becoming older and having begun to crack the façade, eventually everything fell apart. For a period of about a month I had destroyed myself; the emotions of someone who had lived a fake existence to protect myself from the pain flooding over me in one massive wave. I broke down routinely, including in front of my mother. I screamed at her, told her how much I fucking hated the people who made me this way-the people she knew and trusted.

The time when I first started dissociating and the time when I finally broke free from it was the span of about 14 years. Those 14 years felt like a "skip" button had been pressed. Little to no development of my identity occured over those years-I essentially was the same person from beginning to end. My room at my family home was essentially the same with the exception being me getting a progressively better computer to feed my internet addiction. Otherwise, everything remained stagnant. No poseters lined the walls, no books were placed upon shelves. I was nobody. I would essentially go home and bask in the cold, pale glow of the computer screen, like some sort of mushroom that feeds off of electric waves.

Now I play catchup. It feels as if I have woken up from a 14-year dream. I have no past, and I fear I shall have no future.

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