Burn After Reading

I am not my body, not my mind, or my brain

Lately, I've been so disconnected, so much so that 'I' feels wrong. If I focus too much on it then I feel a hollow sort of distress. But lately I feel like a shell, and shell that's not aware it is until it's alone with no stimulation.

I've become unfamiliar with my own mind, body, and spirit. Speaking or typing feels strange. It's robotic, automatic, like I'm going through the motions. When I feel like this, I just want to lay still and maybe go to sleep.

I feel hopeless about who I am a lot, but then again, there's an undercurrent of not caring at all about what I do or don't do. I think there's an undercurrent of detachment.

I've got assignments to do, a final project I haven't even started yet in history. I wish it was just a test, I think a history test would be easier than working up the CARE to write a few diary entries of people on the Oregon Trail.

Art itself is starting to lose its luster. Talking to others feels kinda exhausting. I'm not sure what's up with me, the recent medications were doing me some good. It could be stress, it could be losing its effect, I could be taking too much at once.

The psychiatrist and I were going to explore Derealization-Depersonalization Disorder, but she wanted to make sure my heart rate was what it should be to take the medication I was planning on taking.

Turns out, as they took my heart rate for the second time that visit, there was something of note. Noticeable enough that they asked if I wanted to take an EKG (this is a procedure used to record a heart's electrical signal to make sure it's doing it right). So, considering medical practitioners don't just ask you to take one willy-fucking-nilly, I decided that yeah, maybe I should.

Ladies and gentlemen! The results are in-

Iiiiiit's!

Sinus tachycardia. Essentially, my heart beats faster than it should. Usually, anybody can have it when they're stressed or exercised, but it's a call for concern when you're at rest. It's a usually a symptom of something. It could be as innocuous as anxiety, or the meds I'm taking, or anemia. It could maaaaybe cause heart failure.

The irony, I might just get a pacemaker like my grandma.

Even more ironic, this was in my freaking birth chart. I mean yeah, heart disease is common, the website could've just thrown that in for shits and giggles, but damn. That's a weird coincidence if it is, huh?

Ain't it ironic that I kinda hate the thought of dying? Living, for me, violently oscillated between life being good and life being shit. Now, it's kinda really great and kinda really shit all at once, and I'm really not sure what to do or even feel right now.

I just don't want to make the ones I love deal with this anymore, you know?

Last night, it was so bad, that at one point I could barely focus on my boyfriend's voice or speak. So I kinda didn't for a while. Feeling like that, it hurts. He asked me if it hurt, smacked himself for saying something so 'weird', and then I typed out that yeah, it does hurt.

Times like that, it hurts. Sometimes, in those moments, it feels like it comes in waves, and it hurts. Like I'm somehow being electrocuted. I always kinda thought it but never verbalized it. It doesn't make sense, how could something hurt so viscerally without any sort of physical pain? But then again, I think I saw a study that showed emotional pain was registered exactly like physical pain in the brain. Pain is pain, I guess.

How can feeling detached hurt? I guess it's despairing, makes you frightened and hopeless, even if it's under the surface of detachment.

But at some point, even feeling so detached, as my boyfriend was speaking in that gentle tone of his, sweetly talking about being there, holding me, giving me a kiss, this undercurrent of dread slowly creeped away.

At one point, I was floaty and content. I could easily close my eyes and picture my head on his chest instead of a pillow. I could've fallen asleep, but unfortunately I didn't. Still, I distantly felt happy, because I think that's the first time I actually fucking relaxed in god knows how long.

He really is a keeper you know, and I remember murmuring that to him. I remember him humming as he said, "You're too sweet." Saccharine. I'd describe it as saccharine, maybe too much for others, but that sweetness makes me mush. I said, "You're too kind."

I wish I wasn't so empty, you know? Detached, hollow, vacant. Memories are challenging to keep or remember. I stumble and slur my words so much now. I'm so forgetful that I wish I'd open my fucking phone to take videos more. But man, I don't know how he keeps putting up with me. I'll always be thankful that he's my friend. I'll always be thankful he's in love with me, even though i sometimes wish he'd found someone better.

Hopefully, when I go to the doctor soon, we'll solve this whole tachycardia thing. Then, hopefully I can figure out a way to mitigate this fucking disassociating and derealization thing.

And then maybe, finally, I'll get that fucking adhd screening that I've been trying to get to for around a month.
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So yeah, there's a weird update for y'all. For some reason, Ancient Dreams in A Modern Land give me disassociation vibes.

-MissNobody