Working With Dissociation

     It’s almost time to go to work and I am dreading it already. I can’t even begin to explain how difficult it is to go stand there for 8 hours helping people when you are on auto-pilot the whole time. You smile because you know it is normal to do so. You put on a cheerful voice that takes you by surprise. That’s not you. You feel nothing. Nothing except anxiety and the feeling that you don’t want to be here. You catch yourself zoning out but that’s nothing new to you. You can’t focus no matter how hard you try. Help the people. Clean the area. Do your job. But it isn’t you. It’s your body. But it isn’t you. You try hard not to encounter any confrontation or any little thing that your brain will react to by itself in the form of tears, as you have lost the ability to control them. Your brain decides for you what you are going to cry over, whether it is reasonable or not. You have customers recognize you and they are happy to see you but you don’t remember ever meeting them. You pretend you do and return the smile. People start small talk you will forget in a matter of minutes. You try hard to multitask which is something you struggle with immensely and it shows by taking you forever to get anything done. You do everything with a smile to ensure everyone thinks you are okay. That you are happy. That you are normal. The day continues but you feel as though you never know how much time has gone by. Everything feels either sped up or slowed to a snail’s pace. You’re just trying to get to that point in the day when you get to start closing up. At least then you don’t have to deal with people. You do, however, now have to be alone with your thoughts. Those thoughts that never stop. You think and you think. You overanalyze every little thing. You start to get anxious or sad depending on what thoughts your brain decides to push on you at the moment. You imagine conversations with people and what would be said in every possible scenario, preparing for a situation that will likely never happen. You notice that your facial expressions have been matching what you’re feeling. Thank God no one is around to see them. You pick things up, you make the place look nice using your own two hands but if you look down at them and open and close them it amazes you that you control their motions. You feel like a robot. It doesn’t feel like you moving around or controlling your body. You do. But it doesn’t feel like it. When you finally get home you are so tired from the mental battle you go through every time you go to work. You’re so relieved to finally be home, where you don’t have the overwhelming stimuli that are customers, pressures to do your job well when you can’t even control your own self, and getting through the day without anyone realizing that you are not “normal”. You are so tired from keeping up this act all day long. Every shift is not just physically but even more so mentally exhausting. You get home and feel relief. You’re so tired but you refuse to go to sleep. You hate that sleep is necessary. You put it off as long as you can because you know. You know that sleep is going to make the next morning come sooner and quickly bring you closer to having to go back to work and fight that battle yet again.