Dissociation, emotions and the walk to school
This morning I was walking towards city hall to get to school when I heard some music over the loudspeakers outside the building. A tune by Yanni, I felt like I snapped immediately back to my teen years when several of us would crowd into a friend’s basement playing role-playing games. Marathon sessions lasting hours were almost always accompanied by Yanni playing quietly in the background.
The memory washed over me like a sudden flood. For the briefest of moments, I could see the basement, hear the music and the talk, feel the carpet underneath me and how warm the room was.
Don’t get me wrong, these are all great memories. In fact, I stopped for a few moments and smiled while I relished this sudden and unexpected trip back to happier places. It was nice.
Again, as I walked through city hall, I snapped back to another memory from my teen and young adult years. Someone was wearing the same cologne as my first husband. Feelings of safety, warmth, groundedness, and joy welled up. These were the feelings that overcame me as soon as the scent hit my nostrils. Powerful, present and inescapable.
I live with bipolar disorder. I don’t know if other people’s emotions are set to 11, but mine are. Even when I’m not in the grip of an emotional swing, everything feels so very intense to me. I’ve described it as living in super Technicolor.
I wonder if that’s why I unconsciously spend a great deal of my waking hours in a state of mild dissociation. Maybe it’s to protect myself from that intensity. Maybe it’s simply to dull emotions that would leave me feeling raw and open far too often.
I wish I could choose when to reconnect with myself. There are times I want that vivid experience, that connection, that visceral reaction.
Perhaps someday.
The memory washed over me like a sudden flood. For the briefest of moments, I could see the basement, hear the music and the talk, feel the carpet underneath me and how warm the room was.
Don’t get me wrong, these are all great memories. In fact, I stopped for a few moments and smiled while I relished this sudden and unexpected trip back to happier places. It was nice.
Again, as I walked through city hall, I snapped back to another memory from my teen and young adult years. Someone was wearing the same cologne as my first husband. Feelings of safety, warmth, groundedness, and joy welled up. These were the feelings that overcame me as soon as the scent hit my nostrils. Powerful, present and inescapable.
I live with bipolar disorder. I don’t know if other people’s emotions are set to 11, but mine are. Even when I’m not in the grip of an emotional swing, everything feels so very intense to me. I’ve described it as living in super Technicolor.
I wonder if that’s why I unconsciously spend a great deal of my waking hours in a state of mild dissociation. Maybe it’s to protect myself from that intensity. Maybe it’s simply to dull emotions that would leave me feeling raw and open far too often.
I wish I could choose when to reconnect with myself. There are times I want that vivid experience, that connection, that visceral reaction.
Perhaps someday.