On Authenticity, pt. 2 (and Depression, pt. 4)

I have social anxiety. I often hide from others.

When my depression is especially bad, I push them away. Or I push myself away.

As someone who has sleep paralysis (look it up, or wait for me to talk about it in another post), I have had a few of what are described as “out of body experiences.” It’s hard to explain, but basically, it’s a separation of one’s awareness from their physical form.

In a way, that is exactly how I have been lately.

I put on a public face. I smile. I talk. In a sense, I’m sometimes even happy in the company of others, in the company of my loved ones.

But my conscious awareness is elsewhere. I see with my eyes, I am physically there, but suddenly, I’m looking through a window. I hear, but I don’t listen. I talk, but I don’t speak.

Because the whole time, no matter how good the experience should otherwise be, no matter how much those people love me, I am haunted by horrible thoughts.

“This could be the last time we talk like this again.”

“They love the person who is in front of them now, but will hate the one I ‘become’.”

“They speak to me like I’m a man. They will never do that again, and they’ll never speak to me as a woman. They’ll just speak to me as a freak, or not at all.”

“They’ll never see what I see.”

“They’ll never trust me again.”

“They’ll never love me again.”

“No one will ever love me again.”

“You’re going to hurt them.”

“You’re going to destroy them.”

“You’re selfish.”

“You’re hideous.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re crazy.”


“You’re alone. And you always will be.”

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