the deep dive

If you know my story, you probably know the only way I could find to survive my childhood was to disassociate. To withdraw deep within myself, become as much of an empty shell as I could.

Well, this morning I had the urge to do so again, as strongly as I have had in decades.

My best guess as to why is a combo of a massive PTSD response to a serious depressive spike, with a bit of dysphoria thrown in for good measure.

I'm hanging on, but boy could I use a break from being me . . .