Detached

I’m going to try to write about something I don’t talk about very much. I mentioned it briefly yesterday, but I’d like to go into how it feels to go through the world from inside my head. I’m not sure if this will make sense, since I haven’t really articulated my thoughts on the matter before. Do me a favor and don’t panic.

How can I put this? I generally go through life feeling like I’m at least one step removed from things. It often feels like things happen around me, and I’m just watching from a chair somewhere in my psyche rather than inhabiting my body. It’s like the difference between walking or skating (where your body is directly involved in your locomotion) and driving a car with cruise control on a straight highway. In the latter case, you are still involved, but you will continue to move without any direct input.

For me, this even holds true when it comes to emotions. I often feel like I’m “feeling” something because I’m supposed to feel it, almost like it’s a role being played. I go through the motions, but there’s still a slight sense of detachment.

This detachment can often be a source of angst: it’s hard to get worked up to do something, even if it’s something you’ve had fun with in the past, if all you can dredge up from inside is a resounding “meh.” And I’ve had moments (like I mentioned yesterday) where that detachment collapses and I feel extremely engaged in my life. But that feeling never lasts; inevitably, I slip away behind the walls of logic and overthinking.

I don’t know if this state, however common it might be for me, is in any way “normal.” In fact, I’ve somehow become convinced that it is not “normal,” and that other people tend to be more engaged and involved with their own lives. This may be an irrational belief, since there’s not really a way to feel what others feel (outside of talking about it, but that’s scary), but it’s one I hold, for better or worse.

And I don’t know what causes this state of mind, either. Is it a result of depressive tendencies? Can I blame it on my ADD? Is it even a problem at all?

This isn’t a cry for help. This is just a statement of the facts, a small glimpse of what it’s like to be me. I like to think that I “fake it” pretty well, but after a while it rings hollow. And somehow along the way I picked up the idea that that’s a bad thing.

So I don’t know. These few words still feel like they fall short of communicating what I’m trying to say. If you’ve felt this way too, then you can probably fill in the blanks yourself. If not, then I’m not sure. Like a fish describing what it’s like to be wet, it’s hard to put things into words when you don’t have much of a contrasting frame of reference. It doesn’t help that, by definition, writing about one’s internal worldviews changes depending on how one feels. But I’ve tried.