Disconnected
Ever get the feeling you’re disconnected from your own life?
It’s a funny feeling, in the pit of your chest, literally like your heart is hurting. It’s as though you no longer know or remember who the true-you is. Did you ever know? The closest I’ve ever heard it described is on real-life medical shows when they tell the patient that a side effect of a medication is a feeling of ‘impending doom’. I remember having this feeling for the very first time when I was about 6 years old. I know I was around this age, because we still lived in England at the time. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but I felt a disconnection from myself and those around me, which suddenly caused me to feel so incredibly sad that I burst into tears. The feeling passed after a few moments, and even now as I try to recall more recent episodes of this feeling, I can’t put my finger on its trigger.
Sometimes it happens, it goes away, I feel fine and forget about it. As I get older, I’m beginning to worry more about it. My family has a history of mental illness, both diagnosed (great-aunts institutionalised) and undiagnosed (my mother has had a ‘mid-life crisis’ of sorts over the past four years, my sister has shown signs of having some rather large issues, both biological grandfathers have addictive personalities… one to women and generally being a butthead, the other to alcohol). I suppose I feel nervous that perhaps I might be next. I feel completely normal almost all the time, but once every few months, I’ll have a ‘moment’ where I feel like I don’t even know myself.
I think there is concern from my husband as well, that maybe I’ll do what my Mum did, throw up my hands, tell him to “get fucked, I want my youth back”, take half of everything we built together and proceed to piss it up the wall on plastic surgery and other bullshit. I can’t think of anything worse, I really can’t stand that element of my mother’s personality and her life, and cannot imagine going down the same road. But I doubt that was her plan either in her early twenties. How can I guarantee it? I want to be there for him forever, but what if my mind does all of a sudden decide it wants to be pashing young things at the disco once again… and the only thing standing in my way of that and world full of other fun is my husband?
Sometimes I feel like I can’t trust my mind in 20 years time. Is being aware of the possibility enough to stop it coming true?
