Evodread

Dread is such an inexplicable feeling.

I’ve always described it as feeling ‘dead’ – not physically, but psychologically, like you’re an outsider to your own life.

It’s not external; your senses are fine, you aren’t numb, the world isn’t fuzzy. But inside, you don’t feel right. Your memories feel surreal and distant, like they aren’t yours.

You try thinking of an event that happened recently, or something that’s been on your mind, and you’re …detached from it. It’s not like it happened to someone else; it still happened to you, but that ‘you’ and the current ‘you’ have been severed apart.

〔~✦~〕

Derealisation and depersonalisation almost describe it, but not quite.

The more I think about it, the worse it gets. Like a cold, you can’t seem to remember what life was like before. You think how nice it would be if it could pass.

Eventually it does. Everything returns to normal, and you can’t even imagine the feeling again.

〔~✦~〕

Who knows when dread comes creeping past your door again.

It’s strange. When it comes, you think to yourself – is this dread? And as soon as you do, chances are it probably is. But it’s both a imperceivable yet sudden change. One moment you’re fine, the next you’re dead – still, there’s no ‘jump’ or ‘switch’, it just… happens before you realise.

Maybe I’m just broken.