I wrote a poem about my experience with dissociation and depersonalization the other day, and I thought I would share it. When it was particularly bad for me, I wish I would have known what was happening and known other people were going through it too.
I feel disconnected from my own being
I look into the mirror and I do not know who I am
And not in a philosophical way
I am surprised by my own reflection
I do not know what I look like
Pictures from six years ago show who I think I am
But the mirror is telling me a different story
When people tell me I’m pretty, it does not feel like a compliment
I could not tell you if my body is objectively beautiful or not
I remember who I was before
What I wore
How I did my makeup
What I looked like
Now I am not sure
It’s one hell of a coping mechanism
I spend half an hour staring at myself in the mirror
Not because I’m vain, but because I’m curious
Have I always had this freckle next to my bottom lip?
When did my eyes get these gold specks in them?
I feel as if I am examining myself under a microscope
Looking for familiarity
My most recognizable feature is a line of three freckles on my right leg
It’s so minuscule and yet it reminds me, in times of desperation, that I still have the same body
My phone recognizes my face as three different people, as if it knows my inner thoughts
I constantly compare photographs from Christmas of 2015 to recent pictures, to find similarities
I’m playing Where’s Waldo with my own body, but I don’t win anything in the end
Not even satisfaction
My soul walks around this world and my body is just along for the ride
Showing up in my reflection to remind me how separated I’ve become
Maybe this is why I don’t go shopping
I’m too old to be dressing up a doll
P.S. If you haven’t seen yet, I’m doing a Q&A in honor of Queerly Texan turning one! Leave your questions in the comments below on this post or the Birthday post!