I fell into something like depression last winter. I felt like a failure, disappointed, ashamed, frustrated, and indignation. In one instance, I told a sibling that the things around me felt more like a dream than reality. I had been bicycling as transportation, and that fall-winter a motorist seemed to want to hit me. Among other things, I think this was taken as paranoia when I had to be admitted that Spring after hurting myself as tensions at home were rising for reasons I can only guess at. Prior to that rising tension, something peculiar happened.

I felt a lot of shame and frustration, and as I was mulling it over I accidentally put my hands together as in prayer. Then I thoyght to myself that I liked the suffering, that for once I felt shame and indignation. I was seeing the world in a new way. I took my hands apart and whispered "Make me suffer." Meanwhile my father was supposed to have an extended break from work, which meant extra house-cleaning. Somehow it never happened. My vague recollection is that he was supposed to be off, but wasn't, and when I checked the day, it was way earlier in the week than it should have been. My first thought was that it was some kind of magic, a rip in the space-time continuum, but I knew that was impossible. I sat for hours trying to reconstruct the last week, but I couldn't confirm one way or the other. I went with the more reasonable explanation of faulty memories. In fact, that extended weekend never came.

I've always had this memory that, as a young boy, I would perform actions that were characterized by clear intent but were in fact involuntary. They were highly inappropriate, things you would never expect from an K-3 elementary school kid. Apparently this is a form of depersonalization.

I should ask my dad about what happened before my admission 4-5 months ago, but I'm afraid to. He's going to think my imagination is running away with itself. He probably won't remember anyway.