Disconnecting Dissociation .
Disconnecting Dissociation . depression stories

vero I miss feeling.
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
In this piece of writing, I will explore the vicious cycle of the hypocritical emulation of emotions that one may embody in case of a loss of emotion.

Disconnecting Dissociation .

The weather, how can I describe it now? How can I describe the weather, now that I've become detached from my surroundings? Well, I can't, so I won't.

But what do I mean, when I say that I've lost touch with reality? What does it mean? What does it feel like? What is it like?

Well, it feels dreadful, it feels like you're being slowly pulled out of your body aimlessly. With your soul gradually separating from your body, and going nowhere.

Nowhere, what is Nowhere? Nowhere is a place, where nothing belongs, nothing but what doesn't belong in it.

Nowhere is where things that are outcasted are stocked, where lost psyches group together, where disconnected souls merge, where feelings create great conflict over the smallest of things.

Nowhere isn't found, it's felt. You don't go to Nowhere, Nowhere comes to you, it inhabits you, it eats you up, it governs you, it replaces you.

You become nobody, you lose all sense of humanity, you can't afford to waste energy on keeping track of your identity anymore, nor can you afford putting anymore work into your personality.

Why should you even do so? Why construct something that has been stolen, destroyed, demolished, annihilated, deleted.

It feels so hopeless, so empty, so sombre. The street lights shut off, the moon faded into darkness, every building around you slowly vanishes into thin air.

Nothing makes sense anymore, why is everything going away? Why now? As the lights dim, and the stars mingle with the sky's black background.

You start to stare, stare at what has been created, the magnificence, and the mesmerizing structure of your newly built habitat. Welcome, to Nowhere. Welcome to where nothing exists.

Welcome to Nobody's town. Welcome, to where lost, becomes found. Maybe you can't find yourself, but Nobody can, they can find you.

You're blinded by the obscurity, you can't handle how powerful the darkness is, you can't live with it, nor can you live with how deafening the silence is,

you just can't cooperate with such an actively idle environment. So you create your own vision, your own sound, your own humans, your own fake identities.

There you go, now you can go blend in with mankind again.

But... something is off. Something is still yet to be repaired, what is it that you're missing? You've got it all, identities, personalities, moods, movements, speech.

What could possibly be missing to complete your sense of humanity? Ah... emotion... the component that makes you human.

How can you mimic such a complex process? How are you going to be able to imitate the abstractly concrete nexus of perception, awareness, and feeling? It's simple, you can't.

It's something you will not be able to copy. But you can learn it, you can learn how to physically, and cognitively respond to situations.

You can learn how to delude humans into thinking you're just like them. They lie, a lot of them lie, it's okay if you do to.

Fake that smile to mislead them into thinking you relate to their beings. Fake that frown to deceive them into linking you with vital sympathy and compassion.

Move the eyebrows, move them swiftly, cohere them with your lips, create a symphony.

Create a harmonic melody of irreality, an imaginary consistency of the imaginary, a perfect duplicate of the world.

Plagiarise everything, empathy, rancor, depression, euphoria, enjoyment, entertainment, ecstasy, elation, pain, copy it, copy it all. Be the perfect copycat, create the flawless photocopy.

Print it out faultlessly, make your world, their ideal one.

Polychromatic, biologically variant, academically well, familially stable, medically healthy, financially spoiled, intellectually elevated, socially extroverted.

Hide all the blemish, push it to the positive pole of the political system, cover the disconnection, camouflage it into the dark background of emotional numbness,

push it all into the pit of secrecy.

Now, now it's good. Perfect imitation. Ideal reality. Flawlessly fake. Concretely unreal. But you won't be able to do this forever, the day will come, in which you break down.

Everything will be abolished, you can't just make up fake identities for your whole life. You will forget them. You will forget yourself... again.

It's not going to last, the day will come in which your manipulative motives will be revealed, the day will come, in which your stateless self will be revealed.

Then, it will be time to discuss the real occurrences. Your cynicism, your inhumanity, your apathy, your virtuality, your inexistence, all will be discussed.

And you will have deep remorse for all your actions, you will be scarred by the cognitive regrets. But you won't care, you can't feel, so why would you pay attention to that?

It will be uncovered that you're dissociated from the world, detached from the environment, disconnected from actuality. That you're non-existent, fictional, inhuman.

Everything will be tore down that very moment, everything you've built, everything you've emulated, everything you've impersonated.

It will all be lost, all demonstrated to the humans around you. Your bonds will be caught to be but playable strings. Your sensations, but senseless hallucinations.

Your awareness, but a fake edition of perception. Your love, but an delusional aspect of how you play your game.

Your likability, kindness, helpfulness, empathy, all of them are just sticks for strings. The strings of illusion, and there goes.

All your effort is now gone in vain, all your bonds are being destroyed. All your achievements are being dismissed.

You're not yourself, you never were, you were just misrecognized to be you. You don't exist, we discussed this. No need to repeat it, time to repeat the vicious cycle.

Time to form new disconnections. It is time, to move onto a new nexus of virtual emotion. Time to create a new network. Brand new interconnections.

More imitations, more delusions, more illusions, more hallucinations, more virtual sensations. Time for the cycle to be reactivated. Time to dim the lights again. Time to call for possession.

Time to yell for Nowhere. Time to be found. Time to howl for Nobody's presence.

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