What do you mean "aren't here" anyways?

Based on my two recent writings about dissociation, a friend contacted me to ask for some clarification about what all I meant. His questions boil down to "what does dissociation feel like" and "why does it bother you". Let's take them one at a time!

(Friend, I am not specifically naming you in this post because I don't know whether you want your curiosity about this to be public. Feel free to comment if you'd like!)

I am not a therapist. I am definitely not a psych or neuro expert. All my experience and knowledge is either lived or anecdotal. With that in mind, let's go!

What Does Dissociation Feel Like:

Friend was looking for clarification partly in terms of "well sometimes I am doing a routine task (like driving) and my mind starts to wander and later I've made decisions without thinking..."

So, to me, dissociation is distinct from what I would call "autopilot", although I suppose they could be related. I have periods of time where I can look back and realize I wasn't really consciously making choices or decisions, or even where I can't really track my thoughts and what I'd been thinking¹, they aren't the same as the periods of time in which I dissociate. Both involve me "going away" (as does daydreaming) but they don't feel the same.

Autopilot is a neutral brain state caused by doing something physically (or mentally) simple that I've done a significant number of times before. Biking home from work is a big one. My body knows how to get from work to home, so I can just do that without a lot of conscious paying attention. It feels like my active brain is at rest, and my passive brain can arbitrarily think about things. (If I go too deep, this is where I stop remembering what I thought.)

Dissociation is a defense mechanism. Dissociation happens to me when my emotions, or brain, or body, want do be doing something that I don't want them to do. I am most likely to dissociate when I am frustrated at myself, or angry/upset (at myself or another person²?). I only dissociate when I am around other people I know. If I am alone, or I am out and about in the world but surrounded by strangers, I will instead respond to the bad feelings by having a demonstrative emotional reaction, like sobbing heavily.

Demonstrative may be a key word here --when I am dissociating, I am the opposite of demonstrative. I get Damn Quiet, and I don't draw attention to myself in any way. I do not exhibit emotional responses to other people. I do not exhibit affection. I can playact some of these things (like making my face smile when someone says a joke) but I don't naturally react.

"That sounds horrible why would you--" because the part about sobbing heavily was in no way a joke, and unless you're one of less than a dozen people in the last twenty years, you've never seen me cry. Even if you've seen me cry, you've *never* seen me cry. When I get very frustrated, especially when I get very frustrated with myself³, I am very likely to tear up⁴. Letting myself dissociate (there is some conscious choice, if I really don't feel like it I'll vanish instead) and not having a dramatic reaction often feels like a safer choice.

This is partly because I don't want to be seen crying and just as equally because y'all don't want to see people crying. Society is not big on huge, dramatic, emotional responses in general, it definitely is not into people shudder-sobbing and gasping for breath. Also, from the few people who have witnessed it, I always get this sense of dis-ease when I manage to suddenly pull back out of it, which I can sometimes do. I am intense, but often not for long.

And then there's the stuff Racheline talked about --how sometimes it is much easier to just blank yourself out and let the words tumble than to actively FEEL the stress and anxiety and everything else you've got going in your brain at that moment. When I dissociate, I set aside the bad stuff for later, saving it for a time and space when I can break into pieces for a little while.

The train I'm waiting for is coming soon, so I'm gonna stop here and address the "why it bothers me" in another post sometime. (Spoiler: It both does and doesn't. It's complicated!)

***

The above was written on Friday. In re-reading, something interesting struck me --my comment about how on extreme autopilot, my thoughts can go away. When I am dissociating, I do not lose track of my thoughts. They're still there, often much sharper and crisper (and sometimes more painful) than usual. I am acutely aware of what I'm thinking, it's what I'm feeling and moreso, how I'm performing those emotions that [consciously] disappear.

I haven't actually written the second post yet, but hopefully soon. Also, official reminder to everyone ever that nagging me is how you make me Get Things Done and I will not be upset by it, I will love you for it. Yes, I am a grown ass-adult and I should not need to be nagged. I'm also an ADHD trashheap with possible comorbid *something* making it worse, and every gentle reminder is a treasure because it tells me you're still interested in what I have to contribute, and not mad at me for taking so long.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: This is actually more significant than it sounds, it is a thing about me that my brain is ALWAYS working. I don't know if that's an ADHD thing or a just me thing, but my brain is always going, even when I'm doing something "mindless". So the periods where I go really autopilot and can't later remember what I'd been thinking about...they're weird for me.

2: Be it consciously angry or not. One of my brainfailings is a really strong inability to hold negative emotions towards specific People I Like, because obvs everyone I like is Perfect In Every Way or something? Not really the point of this post. I'm working on it, vaguely.

3: ...for not being perfect most likely, and yeah, wanting to cry about it is an imperfect response and obviously I feedback loop on this.

4: A great many things make me likely to tear up. I cry _all the fucking time_, for both positive and negative feelings.