Detached, Destroyed, Dehumanized (Depersonalization/ Derealization)

It somehow got worse

(Trigger warning for, dissociation (duh), eating disorders, self harm)

It has almost been a year since the first time it hit. For the last few months it had been getting better. If I felt dissociated, it was very minimal or it didn't last past a few minutes. I shouldn't have trusted the optimism thinking it was over. I should've known it would come back stronger.

Standing in the crowded hallway, people going in all directions at different speeds. They run in to each other, creating an awkward, slightly less aggressive mosh pit within the school. I was waiting for Nick to walk with him since our classes are in the same direction. The daily routine since our friendship reignited from what it had become for a while.

Within the waves of people, my tall friend started becoming visible as he got closer. I stared at his face, his dark brown eyes, tan skin, slightly messy hair, suddenly questioning if it was him or not. He greeted me, so it was obviously him.

Anxiety started shifting around as I walked to the right of him, but listening to him joke about water began to lessen it.

Once I got to class I texted him and told him what had just happened.

I told him that if I started acting weird in the next few days, to not take it personally and he understood.

And I was right.

Monday came around, first period came around, and derealization sunk in. Everything stopped making sense. I put my head down and tried to make it go away, not knowing what else to do.

I texted the group chat Nick, Jane and I share.

"I feel off"

And it progressively got worse and worse. My hands flew away from me, my voice was replaced, my memory was lost. Jane came to find me in the bathroom. She tried to comfort me, but it didn't help much. I couldn't look at my reflection, or at my hands as I washed them; I had to turn my gaze to the floor.

I knew that this would be the start of a prolonged episode, but I didn't expect things to go the way they did.

On Tuesday, I became sick. Woke up with a sore throat, an upset stomach, chills running through my body, but semester finals had started and I couldn't miss school if I didn't want to have to worry about taking them later all throughout winter break. So I forced myself to get up and go to school.

In every class I wasn't taking a final, I napped. Put my head down, put my ear buds in, and slept. Every time I woke up I felt a little bit more off, a little more disconnected from my surroundings, questioning if I had truly woken up.

Took one midterm, completely zoning out through it. As if music theory wasn't diffictult enough, adding my attention deficiency didn't help in the slightest.

When I went home, my mom noticed I was sick and took me to the doctor. While there, I was weighed.

The scale read 104.2 and my heart sunk. To most this is a low weight. Everyone considers me to be thin. But the 104.2 meant I had gained more than 4 pounds since the last time I had weighed myself and that hit a nerve that been untouched for several months. I suddenly could feel myself become heavier. I could feel the fat on my legs, my stomach and back without having to touch them.

I got home after being told they didn't know what was wrong with me. I got apple sauce because I was told to eat, but every spoonful, every calorie made me feel fatter.

I stood infront of a mirror and not only did my reflection seem distorted, it was a clear view to my flaws and insecurities. Pinching my sides, legs, and stomach, my self image became worse and worse.