Coming to Terms with Unreality

When I was 14 years old, I entered my freshman year of high school feeling nothing but a dull sense of disquietude. I was not happy to be starting the new school year. I was always “the quiet kid”, and that label only rang truer over time, as I retreated further into my shell with each passing school year. I had few friends, and the ones I had were fair-weather, frequently passing up hanging out with me in favor of others. I knew in the back of my mind that I should feel stressed or upset when the year began, but I just felt empty.  My late childhood and early adolescence, meant to be a time of growth and learning, instead left me emotionally stunted. My stepfather was dying from congestive heart failure, the organ covered in scar tissue from the multitude of heart attacks he had suffered over the previous several years. He had ignored the advice and warnings of several doctors along the way, worsening his condition. My home no longer felt like a safe haven with the presence of death constantly looming.  The lack of oxygen going to his brain and his constant feeling of general malaise cut his already short fuse down to nothing. You could not have a conversation with him for fear he would snap at you, and when he wasn’t in the hospital he barely left his bedroom. He was a husk of his former self, a bitter man consumed by sickness and regret. Every day my mother and I wondered if it was his last. As guilty as I felt for feeling this way, he was an unwelcome presence in ...
Source: Psych Central - Category: Psychiatry Authors: Tags: Dissociative disorders Personal Stories Adolescence Depersonalization Derealization Dissociation Resentment Social Anxiety Source Type: news