Unreality

I am not a creature who belongs to the boundaries of reality. I do not exist in a finite world; I exist in one of unreality, a dream within a dream, a nearly constant hallucination. I do not trust my senses to prove that what I perceive is real, that it is not of falsity. Instead I retreat to my head and play my own doll’s puppeteer; a disembodied soulless thing within my mind, pulling strings to tug life into my limbs, ordering the accurate response to whatever I encounter. I follow myself from two steps back, my soul’s shadow outside the boundaries of my being. She is dead, I have killed her and there is no life left, I watch my life now pass before my eyes like my final moments, ones I have already lived through. I am nothing more than a ghost to the girl that I murdered, I have been killed but still exist. So I watch my life pass, time flowing through my veins, an infinite observer. I wear my faces with care, interchangeable masks to match interchangeable personalities. I have possessed this girl, I have killed her with my intrusion, I have stolen her heart and her face and her mind. She is the corpse whom I puppet, the vessel which my entity expresses’ itself through. I do not live, I exist.

I have chronic depersonalization derealization disorders.
Hi.

Hi, guiltdrips! This is a very poetic description of what you're going through. Are there ever times when you feel like you do exist?