Hullo!

I'm ok.

It was disassociation. I don't know much about it, especially considering that it generally features me forgetting it happened right afterwards.

There was this time, last year sometime, when I was at my in-laws' and we were having dinner. I needed to get up from the table to get something from the kitchen, so I did. Somewhere between the few steps between the table and the kitchen, "I" was nowhere to be found.

There was no "I". I will continute to use the word I, though, because I don't know any other way of referring to myself. Anyway, I had a vague bother inside of some distant purpose that was supposed to be, but I couldn't feel too much bother about it, because there was no conscious ME there to feel about anything, anyway. It's like I was trapped in the back of my head, and some consciousless thing was possessing my body. Sort of.

Anyway, as I dithered for a minute there, wandering around that side of the kitchen island and fridge, feeling a very vague slight unease that there was, again, some purpose that was missing, I eventually saw a blue plastic cup with a drink in it on the counter. I had no self-directive abilities; what I did, or rather, what this consciousless version of myself did, was "borrow" the "will" of the cup, and I took it back to the table, set it down, sat down, and sort of fell back into my selfhood. I kinda had a vague, distant sense that something had happened, some oddness, that faded rapidly and was gone within 5 seconds.

A few minutes later, my niece Jordyn was wondering where her drink had gone, from the kitchen island. I didn't think anything of it, and kept eating, but then a growing vague unease began to build inside, and as I spied the blue cup, a sense of it BELONGING there filled me and I kept on eating. After another minute or so, all of a sudden a recollection of my identity-less kitchen wandering jolted into memory, and I felt really STUPID as I realized I had taken her drink. I awkwardly rectified the matter, and mumbled some kind of I kind of absent-mindedly grabbed it when I was in the kitchen and forgot why I was there, kind of thing.

But this was way more than just being in a room and going, "Now why did I come in here again?" kind of thing.

Anyhoo, when I remembered this last fall or this January or something, and related it to Dr. Mower, he said I dissociated. Or is it disassociated? Probably the latter.

And, as I discussed it with him, it came to me that this is something I've experienced many times my whole life, but it gets forgotten practically as soon as it happens, and so it's like it never did . . . except for that feeling of knowing this place somehow that I've apparently been to before . . . I guess, the little I may have ever thought about it, in those first few fading seconds of awareness of the event after one happened, is that it was something that happened to everyone and nothing of note.

But I guess it doesn't happen to everyone. And now, you all may think I'm REALLY wierd or scary.

Perhaps picturing a zombie or Frankenstein-like mode. Okay, I can LOL at that too, as long as we are LOLing and realizing this is a real thing, that is extremely disconcerting (although, I suppose, one of the built in benefits of this is one actually can't be too disconcerted by what one doesn't remember . . .)

More on how I feel, to realize that I have this strange and to me, disturbing, psychological event, and literal "identity theft" thrust upon me through no fault of my own, with no control or anything that I can do about it.