I can feel the disassociation rolling over me like the cool fog coming ashore from the Atlantic. Things become quieter in my head. Emotions dampen and are pulled inwards, isolating me as I internalize everything. As my vision reduces, I am left with the immediate area surrounding me, so that I can handle the minuscule events I simply can not avoid. Basic functions become the only thing that I can handle. I do not want, need or seek out the things beyond the grey walls I am encased in.
There is no thinking about what lays on the other side. Dangerous storms or brilliant sunshine are equally offensive to a mind that can not fathom the journey to see which it is. The heavy all encompassing safety of my fog is like a healing balm that can also overcome you; it can lead you into a false sense of safety, if you stay inside too long, yet it’s hard to judge the length of time you hide, when you are content being there, to staying there.
Tactile sensations hurt overly sensitive skin. Noise is harsh and abrasive even when moderate and calming. Light is painful and a million irritations become too much to handle as sensory overload becomes a disabling irritant. Everything is simply too much. I am conscious of what is happening and completely unable to stop the process because the inevitable slide downwards, has started.
I was unable to get out of the way of the fog bank as it reached the shores of my life and now I must journey awhile in the cold filtered light, until the coastal winds shift, enabling me to choose the right course of direction, once I am out of imminent danger from the denseness that surrounds me, hiding potential pitfalls from my sight. Until then, I am content to wrap myself in the cool grey veil that absorbs sound even as it magnifies it and give my mind time to heal.