It isn't good, this feeling. I'm not sure it could be called bad though. This is my reality.
It feels as though I am an observer most of the time. Every now and then I engage in the process around me, when it suits me, but most of the time an auto-pilot carries on the business of 'his life'. Even the parts that are supposed to be dire feel like fun; adventures for the child who inhabits the body. As a mother takes pleasure in playtime for her son, surrounded by and engaged with the other children.
People have asked me how it is that I am so calm. I make up stories for him to speak.
I care, but in the end, does any of it matter?
If only they knew. But who would believe the truth?
This might be what happens to someone when they deny their own existence far too long. Existence becomes something detached and contented.
Beware. If it happens to you, you might get to like it, or at the very least, get comfortable with it, as I am now.
Yet, in the periphery of self-awareness, there is a lioness. Asleep for now. Ears twitching.
Nice Kitty...
I know that feeling exactly, Halle. I spent most of my life feeling exactly like that. But when I was tired, and my defenses were down, or as the GD came back stronger and stronger, I would catch myself wondering: "Who are you?"
ReplyDeleteIt most certainly is a coping mechanism. In my case, I'm not sure I would use the word "contented," but rather numb. Or, perhaps more honestly, dead inside. The fact that you are aware of it and can articulate how it makes you feel is a good sign. Self-awareness always is. :c)
No words of wisdom, alas. lol Just wanted to let you know you are not the only one who has felt that way...
Hugs,
Cass
There was another sort of me only a few years ago that was numb. He was disengaged and self-absorbed.
DeleteThis is somehow different, and so much better.
The twitching ears might be the only 'tell', but that inner presence is real and very wary.
Thank you so much my dear!
Hugs,
Halle
Very well written, Halle. I get a feeling like this too sometimes.
ReplyDeleteUnlike some dichotomies, ours is never an easy blend, sadly.
DeleteMany thanks for you kind praise Ashley.
I wonder if solitude feels similar to detachment. I keep saying that I am happy in my solitude but at the same time am not comfortable with it.
ReplyDeleteSorry, I think I changed the subject. Oh well, another reason why I detach myself from people.
Solitude suits as a good descriptor of my observer Ellena. Alone there, lying quietly with absolutely nothing urgent enough for her to engage and take action.
DeleteYou and my other friends who stop by here always bring something of yourself along and that makes my day. A new idea, a different 'spin' is hardly unwelcomed. When something you read here prompts you to change the subject, please do! :-)
It occurs to me that you are worried about the actual solitude you are experiencing. My virtual solitude, (feeling alone in a room full of people is how I have described it over the years) has become comfortable. I now am wondering what I would feel, and how I would react if in fact the solitude threatened to become total. Perhaps I would grab my camera and head out to record what was going on around me, then share it with my online friends as you did!
DeleteI honestly don't know.
As you can see, your comment was well placed and I appreciate it. Thank you Ellena.
I relate, my dear friend. I just wish you had friends close by to share your thoughts with.
ReplyDeleteCalie xo
Online friends have changed my life. And our chats have brought us close, but you are so right that there is nothing to take the place of time spent in the company of friends and loved ones.
DeleteIt has been my experience that when one holds a thought close to your heart, somehow it manages to come true. If that is so, we shall break bread someday my friend. xox