ok before I start 1) I’m on the rum and 2) I dont want to turn this into a lifestyle blog or a blog about my life in general. Yet this post sort of covers that. Detached reality , this is what I have become and I struggle to understand this feeling.
Standing alone yet amongst so many others, viewing the same view, watching the world below us, yet not seeing it in the same way.
Standing 35 floors above London, watching the same sunset many others around me where viewing, I felt like I was a world away from where I was stood. I felt no longer apart of where I was. As I fought back pointless tears, as I walked from one side to another, looking over the rooftops of the big city. Hearing laughter, seeing smiles, feeling emotion surrounding me, yet I might as well not have been there. Leaving the building, pulling myself in tight, Walking into the street, away from hustle and bustle, I waited to feel normal again.
Yet the waiting didn’t come, instead sitting on the tube, those tears finally flowed, holding my husband trying to ground myself, my mantra over and over in my head, shaking outwardly, the sinking feeling of realising I no longer understood reality from fiction, the lines blurred, I wanted away. Yet I had no choice but to go through with the booked plans ahead of me.
A weekend away that had been in plans for months, one I had looked forward too, was suddenly one of fear, and full of anxiety. I had been excited to see the sites of London, explore a new world, instead I felt detached from everything around me, detached from everything I was doing and going through. I felt like I wasn’t there, kept expecting to wake, or feel a jolt to remind me this wasn’t real.
Pain from my feet, pain brought on by bad shoes ripping into my heels, occasionally brought me down to earth, unable to tear at my skin with glass, unable to cause discomfort to my being, unable to use my normal release, I bit my lip and allowed my feet to be harmed further by the shoes I had chosen until I was able to find a pair of trainers, by then the pain deeply set in, I was grumpy but it was a focus, I was able to keep going.
Only a short break, one I had never done before, one I had hoped would have been done with ease, instead I found myself in a state of detachment, separated from the moment, feeling like what I was experiencing wasn’t real.
Hoping beyond hope that returning home, that my version of normality would return, instead the feeling of not knowing any grounding intensifies by the moment. I seek comfort in rum, I seek solitude in the safety of my own home. Realising my path has already started again, knowing I’ve never actually left my destination, that it’s now a matter of when, when I finally reach my peace and find my own way without fear or retribution.
My reality is no longer one of my normality, instead it’s become one of detachment and hope.
peacefullyerratic.com 