I was reading some of the previous posts about things we all do, like say "I'm sorry" and avoid eye contact. I don't know why it fascinates me so much. I was just wondering on the train home whether I was avoiding eye-contact more often than I usually do. It seems like I am. But I remembered a conversation with a friend of mine about a year ago. He said that I always look at the ground when I'm talking to someone. I think I've started looking up at the ceiling. Not sure what it means. Hopefully, it means I'm not slouching as much. If I didn't obssess about every single detail of my life, I'd having nothing to keep me occupied all day.
Anyway, I was wondering if anyone else sometimes has this experience. It's always when I'm lying in bed, tired, but unable to fall asleep. All of a sudden, panic will overcome me. It's a strange feeling. I can't quite explain it. It registers that my life is real. As soon as it happens, I remind myself, "Your name is Scott. You were raped for two years. You were in complete hell for a decade. You were crazy, but you're sane now."
I'm detached from the world. I think about things constantly so that every event gets woven into a narrative. I try not to feel anything, only to analyze. But then that moment comes: not very often, perhaps twice a year. It's like that part in Rosemary's Baby when Mia Farrow screams, "This is not a dream! This is really happening!" I get so scared, but I calm myself down. I immerse myself back into the story.
I think my greatest fear is to relive my past. I didn't realize how horrific it was at the time. I can talk about it and write about it, but I can't feel it: except for those few seconds, when all I want to do is get back to unreality.