i've been a bit more upset today. but, i believe it'd be better for me to document my little dissociative moment that occured yesterday. i was at my boyfriend's house. his sister, brother-in-law, and their baby moved in. i think that being around so few people has become too much of a regularity for me. now, around larger groups, my brain reacts more than it normally would, however, it's not with anxiety like normal. is it a coincidence? why would it occur? maybe it happens all the time, and i simply don't notice, and lie in comatose.

questions, questions, questions! will they be answered?

truthfully, i think not. shall i ask my Brain Woman? that's far too embarrassing! or shameful? what is the difference?

moving on, i was fuzzy all day, clouds behind my eyes. i wait for them to clear, which mostly comes soon. at one point, they become thicker. a smog under my eyelids. i could reason, i could think. i'm not a crazy person. i try to convince myself of that so often. intrusive thoughts are common for me, but the veil between reality and my thoughts becomes much thinner. they come in visions, flashing, photo realistic before my eyes, but not for long. they reoccur quickly, plauging.

here are some:

and some paranoid thoughts. it's quite blurry in my head, looking back. i'm so embarrassed of it! it constantly feels like his family believes that i'm some sort of sicko. a druggie? it must seem like i'm high. even worst, a nutjob. they're understanding with the psychological things. i've been cursed with the terror of mental struggles and an overactive imagination. the feeling is so isolating. not just a depression, not just an anxiety, a delerium! a seperation of the land, the universe, where all my peers dwell. will they ever understand? would they forgive me if i let them know? i hope so, but i'd never let myself test it.

you, reader, do you understand? do you feel my pain? have you ever? do you hate me?

do you group me as an item to be gawked at? a crackhead, delusional on the street to point and laugh at?

what a sad clown i am!

how many dances must i do to redeem myself, in at least being an entertaining attraction?

i do not fear being alone. i prefer it. but how gut wrenching, how truly terrifying is it to believe that you are the only one with this affliction?

i know i musn't be. i'm not a schitzophrenic. what am i? to think that no one can relate to you, truly accept you, that is the real loneliness.

i hate to admit that i need reassurance, so weak as to crave it. not for my hair, or my clothes. for my state of being. how pathetic.

a sad clown i am. but i, i will not dance for the likes of you.