Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
Dissociation - Blog Posts
The room is vividly flat this morning - It has been for a month now. The colours jump, the shapes merge. Plastic-partner shifts beside me, her chest rising and falling with each breath. My hand moves against her cheek; the soft mask gives under my fingers, strands of hair curling around my thumb. She opens her eyes, eyelids fighting against the heaviness of sleep and the edges of her mouth curling up at the corners in a drowsy smile.
I think I’m a ghost, I say.
Her thoughts churn groggily behind her eyes.
Ghosted, what? Baby, don’t worry, she replies. Don’t worry.
Her words trail off at the end and she lifts her hand to hold mine, plastic-palm meeting translucent skin, clasped together. Warmth. Her eyes shutter close again, breath deepens.
I’m a ghost, and you’re not real.
Out of her gaze I dissipate into the room, unmoving with the walls and the sloping light; the potted fern withering in the corner.
It is some time later and a blank page is sitting expectantly in front of me, the blinking cursor counting down the seconds. Demands of the living bind me. Deadlines and self-care and chores, like unfinished business to tie the soul. Let me wander, let me haunt. Plastic-partner slides a cup of coffee to me with a sympathetic slant to her eyes.
Thought you might need this, she says. You can do it.
It’s too hot when I drink it, just seconds past scalding. It burns down my throat and the warmth spreads from my chest. My feet slip through the chair legs they were resting on, tilting me forwards, untethered. Looking down at the page, my hands move to write. They write:
To the living concerned: My acquaintances, my friends, my family. I am a ghost now. Please don’t expect too much of the remaining.
you know theres something about being a kid and not having many friends and constantly feeling stuck. like you know you’re meant for so much more but you just can’t reach it. you don’t want to die but theres nothing to live for and your life doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things and you just want something to change.
and theres something about having a face and a name that belongs to you but isn’t yours. and you dont feel real most days even though you’re living the life you wanted. there’s violence in your veins that scares you and a hunger for something that you can taste but never quite see. and every day you’re drowning, drowning and praying for someone to throw you a rope you’re not even sure you’d take.
And then all of a sudden you’re surrounded by people who love you and know you and you can finally breathe. and on the bad days they bring you food and sing silly songs and remind you that you’re real and you matter. you get obsessed over stupid shit and you live day by day because you can’t survive any other way, but your friends listen to you ramble and support you. you’re everything you thought you could be and nothing like you imagined and you’re sense of self is still so fragile but thats okay. you have good food and good friends and that’s enough to live for.
anyway, Dorohedoro is my favorite manga, can you tell?
can’t believe i am an incorporeal being and yet i am still being expected to learn linear algebra
memories fade (fears don’t)
author:
DeviBlue
summary:
“You refused to take the mandatory swim test,” Mori said suddenly. Chuuya lifted his head up at the sudden topic change. “Are you afraid of water, Chuuya-kun?”
Chuuya didn’t like where this was going. “No, sir.”
A small ‘ah’ of understanding left Mori’s mouth. “So just afraid of being submerged then?”
His heart skipped a beat. “N-no, Mori-san.”
Mori chuckled. It felt like a death sentence. “Don’t lie to me, Chuuya-kun.”
OR
Mori knows Chuuya's worst fears and uses them as punishment.
"just be yourself" small problem i don't know who that is
we are the same, i don't have any advice personally, my only guess is that we have lots of "split spikes" during traumatic situations, and that could be happening to you if you are currently in a traumatic situation? that's our personal experience though, so take it with a grain of salt, we dissociate hard when thinking about being plural which makes it really hard to think about solutions. Good luck though!!
Here's the issue:
I writing this am part of a larger system, Wanderstars.
However I (personally) experience different personality and age states as headmates. We are all together in our own group.
If I attempt to push them all together and say "they're different emotions not different people" I spend all day dissociated not knowing who I am at all.
Either way, what I know logically is "happy" and "sad" and "lonely" are different people in the mind and it's how we need to be to function. They don't like being the same person together because they're not the same on some level. Switching between them is best described as monoconscious.
Does anyone have any advice or tips on like...slowing down crazy "splits" of these new fragments? I'm guessing to bring us all together will take serious therapy, since there are dissociative barriers in place for a reason, but in the meantime is there any way to keep us at a low number?
We are traumagenic. Wondering if this is any similar to the experience of any polyfragmented disordered systems? Or just similar to any of your experience.
Any response is welcome. Didn't think we'd be questioning plurality a second time.
- Wildflower Garden