It's all real. It's all there, right infront of me and I know it. But for me it feels different. I can touch the things, I see them, I know where they are placed and what to use, what I can't do and what I can. What sense does it make though? My feelings are complicated. My sight of things differs from the usual. Concentration is lacking, tiredness, pure exhaustion that never fades away, depressions make it worse. I feel unwell, but no one can really see. Why not? I don't tell anyone besides the very few who understand what I go through. But they suffer the same, and therefor we help each other stand on our feet again. How can we make it better though? I want that unwell feeling to go away. Derealization. It's not just a small problem, millions of people go through it. But no one truly pays enough attention.
I feel like Im the observer or watcher of my own movie. The movie of my life. My.... reality is never really there. Its surreal. I can grab it, I can see, smell, feel things around me, but they never appear as real as they should. When I look at things, it feels like I see them through a curtain. They are there, yet seem not to be real, even though they are. When I look at people, it's about the same. My hearing is not any better. People talk to me, but it takes a while to reach me in moments I'm in stress. Sometimes they call my name a few times until I finally react. It's those moments I want to go away. What if someone ever calls out for my help... but I don't hear it? Sometimes I hear them, but think to myself "Did they call me? Did someone say something to me?" and in the next moment... I don't know why... but its pushed into the back of my head. I don't react and keep doing what I just do. Until they call out louder again.
What kind of life is it when you live as if you walk through a dream. A life where even your dreams at night feel more real than your actual daily life. What is there I can do? Millions of others would ask the same question. But find no answer. It's a thing of my psyche. No casual doc would find a way, I'm sure. Can I get over my every day tiredness? But how? Enough sleep doesn't help. Its frustrating. To drink enough doesn't help. Pointless but I still try. Fresh air? Not the answer either. Distraction? Only a solution for the moment, but it fires up my imagination again, makes me live in my own world only more, too often. It's too sad.
I meet new people that I chose to meet. But my thoughts go wild. They look at me, but do they actually see me? Tears well up in my eyes each time I would get that thought. I look straight into their face, I stand infront of them, stand between them. They say something, they keep me in their middle. Some of them closer, some others with a tiny distance. It all depends on situation, mood, and people watching. But do they really realize it? I wonder if any of them, even if only one, feels just like me. Smiles to the outside, works hard, tries their best, but suffers inside their heart. Not only derealization, but depression, loneliness, the wish for more in life than just the things you hold right now. I want to be seen by them. I want to show other people that I'm here, right now. That I exist. I want them to remember me with a smile and look forward to see me again. And I want to speak to them finally. More than just a shy 'hi, hello, thank you.' I have to overcome my fears and create a remaining impression.
There are so many things I want to do. There are many things I wish for. But my days start without motivation and end with even less of it. Still I fight through it again with every new day. I hide my tears and the burning fire inside, which seems to suffocate and burn me deep within. It's growing bigger and spreads. But my smile would never vanish. I cherish the things I have, even if too little still. Yet I also try to reach out to things I want, even if it looks hopeless. I wanna make the impossible possible for myself. In one point. I want true love. I want my own family. I want my own home and own life to a hundred percent. The only problem is time. It's merciless, it's ticking away so fast and I still stand on the same spot as before where I do my daily routine. I work, sleep, eat and distract myself. It all doesn't feel real.
Nothing feels likes it actually happens. When one moment passed by, the memory of it already starts to fade. If it remains, I wonder 'Was this just a dream? A movie I've seen? Was it my imagination?'. Merely one week ago there was such a time. A wonderful moment. I wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be accepted, even though I knew how things would turn out for me. My mind keeps playing tricks. People look at me, my mind says they look through me. They see me for that moment, but the next they forgot me already again and pay attention to someone who sparkles more, someone whose light is brighter. I'm humble in this world, small like a bug. Yet again I would never see myself as one. I'm fighting a war with myself, day in, day out. It's something everyone has to do on their own, but... there is nothing wrong to ask for a helping hand once in a while.
Help me. Reach out your hand to me. See me. Not only the outside, but look into my heart. Light up the dark places within my soul. And soothe down the dangerous fire. Help me turn it into passion.
And that leads me to the next point. I can't remember the last time I have been truly passionate about something. Was it ever the case in my entire life? I'm not too sure. My mother was right. I never finished what I started. No... it's not right. I did finish things. But they never made me feel any different. Was this one point leading to my failure? That I was told I can't do it? I never reacted to the outside, but to look at my past, I see that those words burned into me. That I can never finish anything. That I can't do this or that. I can't do things right, even if they were right. That I should be quiet, that I should not interfer when elders talk. It turned me into a silent being who would listen when I'm around people. But I never learned how to be self confident and speak out what truly troubles me. I close my eyes for reality. And drift off into my dreamworld, still in hope someone would notice and pull me out again. Show me the real life.
Thinking about my childhood for some reason feels more real than the life I lived during the last ten, twelve, fourteen years. Year by year I felt like living in a parallel universe, like watching my own life out of a room made of glass. And the glass gets thicker. I can't break through it alone, can I? Is there a way? I don't know. But I try to find it.
I'm a fighter. Mentally strong, yet at the same time fragile. I fight for myself all the way through darkness. But I don't wanna fight alone. Someone stay by my side, even if only for a moment. A hug, kind words, understanding, patience, a gentle smile. I need those things the most when I'm on my worst.
I feel like Im the observer or watcher of my own movie. The movie of my life. My.... reality is never really there. Its surreal. I can grab it, I can see, smell, feel things around me, but they never appear as real as they should. When I look at things, it feels like I see them through a curtain. They are there, yet seem not to be real, even though they are. When I look at people, it's about the same. My hearing is not any better. People talk to me, but it takes a while to reach me in moments I'm in stress. Sometimes they call my name a few times until I finally react. It's those moments I want to go away. What if someone ever calls out for my help... but I don't hear it? Sometimes I hear them, but think to myself "Did they call me? Did someone say something to me?" and in the next moment... I don't know why... but its pushed into the back of my head. I don't react and keep doing what I just do. Until they call out louder again.
What kind of life is it when you live as if you walk through a dream. A life where even your dreams at night feel more real than your actual daily life. What is there I can do? Millions of others would ask the same question. But find no answer. It's a thing of my psyche. No casual doc would find a way, I'm sure. Can I get over my every day tiredness? But how? Enough sleep doesn't help. Its frustrating. To drink enough doesn't help. Pointless but I still try. Fresh air? Not the answer either. Distraction? Only a solution for the moment, but it fires up my imagination again, makes me live in my own world only more, too often. It's too sad.
I meet new people that I chose to meet. But my thoughts go wild. They look at me, but do they actually see me? Tears well up in my eyes each time I would get that thought. I look straight into their face, I stand infront of them, stand between them. They say something, they keep me in their middle. Some of them closer, some others with a tiny distance. It all depends on situation, mood, and people watching. But do they really realize it? I wonder if any of them, even if only one, feels just like me. Smiles to the outside, works hard, tries their best, but suffers inside their heart. Not only derealization, but depression, loneliness, the wish for more in life than just the things you hold right now. I want to be seen by them. I want to show other people that I'm here, right now. That I exist. I want them to remember me with a smile and look forward to see me again. And I want to speak to them finally. More than just a shy 'hi, hello, thank you.' I have to overcome my fears and create a remaining impression.
There are so many things I want to do. There are many things I wish for. But my days start without motivation and end with even less of it. Still I fight through it again with every new day. I hide my tears and the burning fire inside, which seems to suffocate and burn me deep within. It's growing bigger and spreads. But my smile would never vanish. I cherish the things I have, even if too little still. Yet I also try to reach out to things I want, even if it looks hopeless. I wanna make the impossible possible for myself. In one point. I want true love. I want my own family. I want my own home and own life to a hundred percent. The only problem is time. It's merciless, it's ticking away so fast and I still stand on the same spot as before where I do my daily routine. I work, sleep, eat and distract myself. It all doesn't feel real.
Nothing feels likes it actually happens. When one moment passed by, the memory of it already starts to fade. If it remains, I wonder 'Was this just a dream? A movie I've seen? Was it my imagination?'. Merely one week ago there was such a time. A wonderful moment. I wanted to be seen, to be noticed, to be accepted, even though I knew how things would turn out for me. My mind keeps playing tricks. People look at me, my mind says they look through me. They see me for that moment, but the next they forgot me already again and pay attention to someone who sparkles more, someone whose light is brighter. I'm humble in this world, small like a bug. Yet again I would never see myself as one. I'm fighting a war with myself, day in, day out. It's something everyone has to do on their own, but... there is nothing wrong to ask for a helping hand once in a while.
Help me. Reach out your hand to me. See me. Not only the outside, but look into my heart. Light up the dark places within my soul. And soothe down the dangerous fire. Help me turn it into passion.
And that leads me to the next point. I can't remember the last time I have been truly passionate about something. Was it ever the case in my entire life? I'm not too sure. My mother was right. I never finished what I started. No... it's not right. I did finish things. But they never made me feel any different. Was this one point leading to my failure? That I was told I can't do it? I never reacted to the outside, but to look at my past, I see that those words burned into me. That I can never finish anything. That I can't do this or that. I can't do things right, even if they were right. That I should be quiet, that I should not interfer when elders talk. It turned me into a silent being who would listen when I'm around people. But I never learned how to be self confident and speak out what truly troubles me. I close my eyes for reality. And drift off into my dreamworld, still in hope someone would notice and pull me out again. Show me the real life.
Thinking about my childhood for some reason feels more real than the life I lived during the last ten, twelve, fourteen years. Year by year I felt like living in a parallel universe, like watching my own life out of a room made of glass. And the glass gets thicker. I can't break through it alone, can I? Is there a way? I don't know. But I try to find it.
I'm a fighter. Mentally strong, yet at the same time fragile. I fight for myself all the way through darkness. But I don't wanna fight alone. Someone stay by my side, even if only for a moment. A hug, kind words, understanding, patience, a gentle smile. I need those things the most when I'm on my worst.
