Hello to My Fragmented Self

One of the things I haven’t talked about here is depersonalization and derealization. I’ve touched on it a bit in the past, by mentioning I don’t recognize myself, but left it at that. This is yet another common symptom with Lyme and coinfections. While many of my mental health issues with Lyme have subsided, these remain pretty intense.  And truthfully, at this point in what has become my life,  it’s not always a bad thing and it’s often a welcome reality; I don’t always want to be present.
(Below: “Stood in front of the mirror all alone
Examined my features skin and bone
Looked at this face I’ve always known
It was a wonderful disguise” 
– Mike Scott)

My whole life I’ve had vivid dreams, still do.  Most of them involve me in the first person and me at the same time flying above watching and observing.  This is the best I can explain how I now feel in my actual life: I am the observer. I’m not the first person.  I’m only observing.

For a while now, I look in the mirror and clearly it’s me but…is that me?  It’s a bizarre feeling.  I feel an almost complete disconnect from my physical body.  Part of this is how much it has changed,  part of this is my extreme and debilitating sensory issues that have led to this part of the depersonalization for me.  But I have currently zero connection to my physical self at the moment (that does not mean I don’t take the best care of it).  I dread showers because of the contact I have to have with it.  Dry brushing (for detox), which I do every day, extremely begrudgingly, is a horrible chore, because I hate the feeling of touch.  Even putting oil or lotion on. It is awful for me.

I feel so much detachment from myself that I have this idea I can walk through this tiny town I live in and run into people I know and no one would ever recognize me (pretty much how I want it anyway).  It’s in a strange sense liberating but also alarming.  Because I don’t recognize me.

I think anyone who knows me personally knows I’m an extremely(!) sensitive person who has no issue showing emotion, whatever that emotion may be.  Currently, I do feel removed from many of these emotions to a pretty significant extent. In the present, I don’t know if that’s entirely a bad thing, given the fact my energy in general is so much lower than it was in my past.  Even my empathy level is different. I still care, but only where it really deserves to go at this point.

I do absolutely feel isolated from so many of my feelings and thoughts,  really from most things that in the past would define me,  in addition to feeling absent from my body.  Not entirely of course.  There are a handful of things that I’m still intensely attached to (my family, my cats, my salamanders, my plants, the friends that have remained by my side).  If I hear someone tell me “nature always makes me feel better” one more time, I may reach through the screen and strangle said person.  This just isn’t how it works.

I wonder if when my therapists ask how my mental health is, and I say my depression and anxiety, etc is under control if it really is just me disassociating from it all.  Because honestly, I’m not entirely sure. But right now, it’s offering safety. And I can’t complain about safety.   And if depersonalization is what my body is doing to shield me from this Lyme Disease hell, okay. (Below : Seriously hard to recognize this old version of myself which wasn’t that long ago)

Depersonalization, derealization can be a way to cope with trauma.  In my case, health, medical, and emotional (because of the bullshit from so-called friends and medical PTSD).  So none of this is any bit of a surprise.  Additionally, toxins from microbial invaders interfere with nerve relapses in the brain.  I’m a mess.  THIS DISEASE is a mess because of what the western medical system has done and taught, and what the CDC refuses to do. My brain, my body, needs a damn break. So do millions of others.  The brain is so often the last part of the body to heal from this horrible disease (and it’s coinfections), so I’m going to guess, this will linger for a while.

If would be fantastic if all of us could get some goddamn help and be recognized by the medical system.

3 Replies to “Hello to My Fragmented Self”

  1. Wow Jill I had no idea. I have learned so much from you. Thanks!! I only see you in passing at you mom and dads when you are down visiting. You keep up the fight I can tell you are a strong person.

  2. I’m the luckiest Dad in the world to have two fighting daughters who tackle challenges in their world with gusto, informed research, an attitude of winning and defined progress. You, Jill, are absolutely amazing! Your family is so proud of you and we all love and respect you so much. Keep toppling those bug and human barriers!

  3. My heart ❤️ aches for you. your dad is right, you are a fighter and you are an awesome individual. I don’t have words that can make things better for you. I just have the love and prayers that I can send to you and respect. But whether you realize it or not, your brain is working. You inherited your dad’s ability to write, express yourself, and put it on paper. I was truly amazed at how well you expressed yourself in this last blog. There are many things we go through in life that we can’t explain and don’t understand, but we are expected to hang onto our faith in God Almighty. So I send you power and strength to keep your faith.
    He has given you two loving animals and many grown crawlers to give you the incentive to go on because they need you. And I know what that is like because He has given me my kitties and my horses to keep me going and give me a reason to go on. Love, ❤️prayers and tremendous respect Lee.

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