By Michelle Tasa
So today is one of those days where I am struggling to be present in my body. It is a weird and disturbing result of childhood trauma. It’s called dissociation, and I’ve been doing it without knowing almost my whole life.
What is Dissociation?
Dissociation is a disconnection between a person’s memories, feelings, behaviours, perceptions, and/or sense of self. 1 This disconnection is automatic and entirely out of the person’s control. It’s often described as an “out of body” experience. Most people have a sense of what it feels like to ‘zone out.’ But what does a dissociate disorder feel like?
Level 1- Autopilot
So, everyone dissociates sometimes. You get in the car, drive to a familiar place and realize you have no recollection of the trip. Your body has gone into autopilot while your brain was busy with other things. It can be quite disconcerting, but we know that it happens to everyone. For me, there are a few more levels of dissociation, and they almost feel like taking a step deeper into my mind each time.
Level 2- Zoning Out
This level is what I call ‘zoning out.’ I actually didn’t realize that this doesn’t happen to everyone. My kids catch me doing it quite regularly and say things like, ” Mom, you’re staring through me again.”
Everyone who has ever watched a movie with me will groan in frustrated agreement that I almost always ‘zone out’ during movies. “Remember that movie we watched last week?” they will say and, though I can recall sitting down to watch a movie with them, I have very little recall of the plot. I could watch the film again as if I’d never seen it.
I can get to this middle level consciously now just by pushing farther into my mind. If I listen to music and push in, I can start to see the music and interact with it. The images my imagination makes will swirl around me, and I will be completely engrossed in the listening experience.
Another example is exercise. In fact, I wrote the first part of this blog in my head this morning while on the rowing machine. I glanced down and saw that I’d been rowing for 8 minutes, then looked the next time and found that 28 minutes had passed without my awareness. Only once I was oriented to the present again did I feel fatigued in my muscles and the speed of my heart rate. This is new and, actually, kinda freaking awesome. Apparently, high-performance athletes dissociate to push their bodies to extremes. I have always been a very low, if not, non-performing athlete. So, it is still quite shocking to complete a 40-minute workout while writing shopping lists in my head.
Level 3- Crazytown
There is a deeper level, and this is the one that makes it all too clear we’ve entered crazy town and might be there for a long while.
While I was in the hospital in September of 2020, I had my first flashback. It was so decompensating that I dissociated to this more profound level. I could no longer feel my body at all. I felt like I was dreaming but also not at all like I was dreaming. It felt more real if that makes sense, and I recalled every detail later. I seldom recall my dreams.
In this dissociation, I was greeted in my mind by a little girl wearing an ankle-length nightie whose name was Annie. She looked to be about 5 years old, but her features were blurry, so I couldn’t tell for sure. Annie grabbed my hand and pulled me up into the sky to ‘float’ with the stars. I suddenly remembered ‘floating’ many times with Annie as a child when traumatic events took place. It was exhilarating to float among the stars, feeling light as air. However, I ‘woke up’ from this dissociation with a whole lot of questions and very few answers.
Still, it made logical sense to me that a child experiencing trauma can leave their bodies in some sense. The brain does this to protect itself from emotional shock. Still weird but not crazy town.
My next flashback again launched me into dissociation, and this time things got freaky. Annie, who is a very bossy and precocious little thing, demanded that I play with her. She would not let me open my eyes. I kept refusing her suggestions to float in the stars, surf on clouds, have a tea party, play barbies, and finally, play dress-up. OK, at this point, you are probably with me on the crazy town part. Well, it gets weirder. I was getting really frustrated and wanted to open my eyes when a second person arrived in my head. I knew her as ‘Teacher’ though I don’t know how I knew that and I did not recognize her.
Teacher looked at Annie and me as if she wanted some kind of explanation for our argument. So, I explained how this annoying little kid kept asking me to play stupid games with her. I was a grown-ass woman, after all, and I did not play barbies anymore. Plus, I did not want to be stuck in my head anymore. Also, by the way, what the actual fuck was going on????
Annie then disappeared. Teacher gave me a look that I am sure has crossed my face many times while she ‘educated’ me. She said, ‘that little girl saved you hundreds of times from really terrible things. If she asks you to play barbies, you will damn well play barbies. Respect the fact that we are all here to help you.”
Say what???
Hold up. All? Like as in, there are more people in my head? By now, I am repeating to myself, “if you think you’re crazy, you probably aren’t.” However, I am not for one second buying that. Later, my psychiatrist explained to me what dissociating was and how childhood trauma victims can have fragmented personalities (i.e., strange people in your head criticizing you for not playing barbies).
So, that’s dissociation for dummies. I have lots and lots of stories to share about my adventures while dissociating. I also am trying very hard not to lose myself in there anymore and live life thoroughly grounded and present. Today I didn’t do so well. Maybe part of writing this blog is to see if any other people can relate. Also, I’ve wondered about writing a book-oh so cliche, I know. Yet, I am staring at a future without income. Holding down a full-time job seems like a long way away. In the meantime, being present in my life is my goal.
- What Is Dissociation? – Verywell Mind. https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-dissociation-22201
Guest Post Disclaimer: Any and all information shared in this guest blog post is intended for educational and informational purposes only. Nothing in this blog post, nor any content on CPTSDfoundation.org, is a supplement for or supersedes the relationship and direction of your medical or mental health providers. Thoughts, ideas, or opinions expressed by the writer of this guest blog do not necessarily reflect those of CPTSD Foundation. For more information, see our Privacy Policy and Full Disclaimer.
I’m a 64 year old male that was diagnosed with depression when I was 16. I knew then that it was far more complicated than that. Five years ago I was finally given a better diagnosis of PTSD. A year ago I finally discovered I have CPTSD. I’m a survivor and so are you. Hang in there and write that book.
Best wishes to you Michelle!
Thank you so much. We are all better together right?
Thanks for sharing your experience, Michelle. It’s a difficult topic but you write about it with so much vividness and grace. I love the gentle humor; it’s good to be able to laugh at ourselves, isn’t it? I’m so glad you have your writing and art to help you through this healing journey.
I am also in my sixth decade. I was so effective at running from this horror, I did not acknowledge its existence until 6 months ago. I really don’t want to look at it in depth. I have heard stories. I don’t believe I will think of what happened and not feel terror, it happens every time. If I smell southern cooking I have to leave and go out of doors. It was only when I became ill and could run no more, that I had to even consider what had occurred. I am happy. My life is good. I feel fortunate. The doors are unlocked and open. I accept was has occurred. I hate no one I am aware of, I do not hold a grudge, I don’t want revenge, I don’t feel cheated, I am not bitter. I fought this thing my entire life, I feel done with the personal part. I’d like to be of help if I could.
I beg your pardon, I lost the main theme. Teachers (adult males) used to become so very, very, angry with me. When cornered and in unfortunate circumstances, as you know, fight or flight. Most commonly a lecture was received by a blank face. I would go. No memories were saved or lessons learned. Two teachers and a Vice Principal (quietly) challenged me to fight them physically. It was weird. I was seen by many as a bad kid, and sometimes I was. I was careful not to harm living things physically, unless they were male and as large, at least, as myself.
I’m glad you can see the good experiences you have had and value them. Being grateful is one of my goals each day since the darkness can overwhelm us at times.
I found out after completely melting down in Feb. 2020 that I have CPTSD from childhood sexual abuse and multiple other traumas throughout my life.
I was in a fugue state when I came completely broken to my therapist… CPTSD is no joke, and it’s a wonder what out minds do to protect us from the horrors we endured.
You are definitely not the only one who has mock conversations with “others” in their head. Most of my “others” are people from my real life, that I want to talk to about things, but don’t feel safe enough to actually do so.
Sometimes it feels so real that I actually think I’ve spoken with them… I’ve been called a liar because I said I spoke about a certain topic with someone, and then later two others involved realized and/or said I didn’t say anything about the topic.
😑 It’s crazy-making, because I can’t tell if they’re all just gaslighting the crap out of me, or if I really didn’t have a conversation about the topic, and it freaking sucks, because I love these people in my life.
In the meantime, I’m focusing on healing and will sort out the rest later.
It is hard for those who love us. I’m also focusing on my healing and I’ll worry about helping them understand later. Stay strong!
I feel like I could have written this post. I believe I suffer from dissociative amnesia. I have a terrible memory, more so than most. I am almost 50. I run into people often that know me but I have no memory of them, nor having ever talked with them. I also have been accused of having said things that I don’t recall or my kids will show up for a visit that I don’t recall arranging. I also have memories or dreams? of floating as a kid. I can’t ever see what is below me but I have a feeling it was trauma. I had no memory of abuse until my 20’s when my brother came and apologized to me for abusing me when I was a kid over a period of 6 years. It wasn’t until 10 years later that those memories started to surface. I was able to fact check some of them with my brother. I still deal with emotional flashbacks which are worse than the memories. My days tend to blend into one another. Things feel surreal sometimes. I try not to look at the time because I don’t like knowing that time has passed and is unaccounted for. I don’t know if I will ever get used to that. I lose things all the time or will find things in disarray and no memory of how that happened. I don’t know if I want to know how much of my days are spent dissociated. I am attempting to go back to school but with a memory as bad as mine…who knows. My fingers AND toes are crossed…lol I was in therapy but I have an uncanny knack for finding therapist’s that have poor boundaries and end up causing more trauma…so I have dropped out of that and am trying to find other ways to cope and gain support. Articles like these help because they tell me I am not alone. It is an alienated feeling, at times. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of articles on what it’s like to dissociate. Most of the ones I find are on the extreme end of the spectrum with DID vs I feel like I am further down the line or somewhere in the middle, on the spectrum. Thank you for writing and sharing this.
I’m so glad that the article helped. I feel the same way. When I see myself reflected in the writings of others, I feel less abnormal, less alone. Glad to be with you on the journey.
Thank you for being so candid. I have only had disassociation once. It was part of leaving an abusive relationship as an adult but brought back many childhood issues as well. I think it is common in grief as well with some of us, when we have a major loss. I will watch for your book!
When I hit the wall 4 years ago, and finally talked to a therapist starting 1.5yr ago, I thought everyone did it. Not a huge thing. Just very similar to sitting under “Spock’s station” in the “bridge” of the Enterprise – rarely in the captain’s chair. As if I was in the head of a very large robot that looked like me. (except I have prosopagnosia and don’t know me) Only remembering the things I could see on the screen. No real emotions. Just the facts. I was usually busy doing something else – reading a book or such else while someone else piloted the robot.
It happened a different way recently: I was in church last week after having been sexually assaulted by one of the other men a few weeks prior (though I have only told my therapist and the pastor who it was while we work out the best way to handle it). I had views from 3 different locations simultaneously. One from my physical body – feeling the warmth of my husband’s arm around my shoulders and the coolness of the pew, one from a completely different pew where I was my mom self holding, rocking, and soothing my quite young self, and a third view from the roof looking down watching through invisible walls/ceilings where that other man was at all times – he was not sitting in his seat next to his wife who I am friends with and who just finished radiation for breast cancer.