most of the time i wonder if i am daydreaming
looking at my body from the outside
a body frozen awake
but they do not move me
retracing convos from earlier
did i smile right, hair right, clothes right, speak right, walk right?
respond. obey.
an undead ghost studying me
i don’t have to be perfect
just perfect enough to blend in
i was aware i was different –
early.
avoiding eye contact
forgetting to read verbal cues
trained to “act right” like the other kids
i still get embarrassed when people remind me that i had drifted
i wonder how long i waded there
i wonder how long they let me struggle, in the water –
before they pulled me out
that eerie feeling when you know everyone knows something about you,
but you.
i watch myself get stuck outside my body.
i hate daydreaming in the middle of conversations
people think it’s rude; people think it’s self-centered
i don’t like to admit that i have disordered thoughts.
i think people will use it against me,
trust me less, say i am not fit to be a caregiver
people will agree my thoughts are disordered
write them off as untrue,
instead of accepting my truth is told in a disorganized sequence,
people will claim my disorganization is a “liability”
lately those symptoms have been so clear
punishing myself when i remember i got lost in the middle of a presentation
i stopped taking interviews over a year ago,
when they split my mind open,
i never quite healed
the last time my brain split it took me 2.5 years before that buzzing
left my brain,
to feel as if i was present instead of witnessing my life.
it’s the split in which i write this
a fracture, processing trauma
slower now. deliberate. tender.
“Daydreaming” is from the forthcoming chapbook “Split,” available for pre-order at https://www.lnutheaterco.com/lnu-chapbooks.
