Lost in Time: My Journey Through Disassociation

How many hours, days, months, and years have slipped away from my grasp? Time is just a hazy blur, an elusive concept that fades into the background of my existence.

Have you ever felt so lost in time?

Photo by James Forbes on Unsplash

I go through the motions of my tedious days. My body moving mechanically while my soul remains adrift. This empty feeling that I have and the void of purpose haunts me.

I’m beginning to catch myself slipping in and out of disassociative states. With this awareness, all I can think about is how determined I feel not to pass this on to my child. I certainly hope they don’t see me disassociating.

However, the realization of this haunting emptiness fuels my determination to break free from its clutches. I refuse to let my child inherit this unfulfilled existence. This disconnection from their own passions and dreams. Their innocence and boundless energy inspire me to embark on a journey of rediscovery. To reclaim the zest for life that seems to have eluded me.

Yet, I find myself continuously walking around in this haze that’s plagued me for as long as I can remember. This, I know will take a lot of self-awareness, hard work, time, therapy, and trying every modality under the sun to conquer!

My Masks

As I navigated my way through many different schools and step-parents, step-siblings, and social circles; I effortlessly wore different masks. Adapting to the expectations of those around me. My laughter echoed brightly. But behind the mask, my soul yearned for authenticity.

Around others, an underlying unease settles within me to this day. Compelling me to wear masks to conceal my true self.

From childhood to adulthood, nobody has truly known me without one of my many masks. I have grown accustomed to them. Each interaction demands a performance. Hiding my genuine emotions and thoughts behind a carefully constructed facade. Yet, the weight of these masks has become burdensome, weighing me down in isolation.

Still Lost in Time

With my child by my side, I engage in activities that I hope will breathe life into the emptiness within me. I mindlessly fulfill my responsibilities, tending to housework, groceries, and making dinners. However, the disconnect persists. Memories slip away like smoke, as if they were never there at all. But my body carries the weight of those forgotten moments. Silently bearing the burden of my past.

Still, my mind wanders off into the abyss. A vast expanse of nothingness where thoughts lose their way. Until I am shaken back to reality. Feeling uncertain of where my mind has ventured. It’s that all too familiar feeling of being lost in time. My journey through disassociation is not linear.

In desperate attempts to find an anchor, I seek solace in my addiction to mindless social media scrolling. Knowing that eventually, something I see might put an end to my disassociation. Perhaps then, I can accomplish something meaningful in my day.

Brief moments of focus arise when I dive into activities with my child, pour my thoughts onto paper, or learn something new. But they fade way too quickly, leaving me longing for more.

The Echoes of Trauma

My therapist says this trauma response is sometimes referred to as the flop, a disassociation that shields the pain. It traces back to neglect, abuse, and/or the harrowing experience of childhood sexual assault.

Those experiences can sculpt someone’s trauma response. Molding them into a fragmented version of themselves. Then as an adult, you can find yourself entangled in an emotionally abusive relationship. Further deepening the cycle of disassociation.

We all get lost in our thoughts at times. We have shower thoughts where we can come out of a long warm shower with an idea. Even though we may have had a million different thoughts in the shower and don’t remember all of them. Or when we are out for a walk and seem to have lost all track of time. Not remembering some or all of it. Hypervigilance is what keeps me safe from dissociating while walking, driving, and just being in public in general.

The difference is that a trauma response of dissociating is having a clear mental detachment. Feeling detached from our body, and/or as if the world isn’t real. Feeling detached from ourself and in a dream like state. It’s a disconnection between thoughts, feelings, and memories. Like being in a conversation and zoning out completely without feeling any physical sensation.

The path to healing for me is recognizing when it happens, acknowledging the depths of my disassociation, and the impact it has on my life. Through self-reflection and seeking support, I aspire to reclaim my identity. Reconnecting the fragmented pieces and rediscovering my strength within.

Seeking professional support is courageous!

Disclaimer: I’m not a professional.

Have you experienced feeling lost in time? Do you disassociate?

Brining you sporadic non-conventional publications. A non-professional perspective on life from a Genx ginger hermit with CPTSD.