Nothing feels real or genuine. Not even the sun, or the fresh air. Everything smells like a memory. I feel the sun on my skin and it feels artificial. It’s as though I’m in a sterile room and the images I see and the sounds and sensations are cheap imitations of the real thing. Like I’m in a windowless, white walled cell. And I am merely experiencing my life passively, as if watching a movie. I don’t feel anything. I am hollow and I wear a mask of normalcy to stay employed. There is no happiness. Only my imitation. The only thing I feel is this pressure on my chest, the weight on my eyelids and creeping sensation of utter loneliness.

I’m trying to get past this regression due to starting lexapro. I felt “fine” on my bupropion but not better. Just fine... no good... not necessarily bad. This feels pretty bad.