Has anyone ever felt like their name is not their own name?
I’ve been feeling this disassociation for a while now. I’m not even sure if I can confidently tell you my name anymore because it almost feels like I don’t have a name. I just am.
I mean, technically speaking, it’s not even my name. I just adopted it to be when I was about twelve, or thirteen because I didn’t like my old name. Or, deadname as other transfolk would call it.
I juggled with other names before but they never really stuck and by the time I’ve decided to try on new names, I’ve already gotten used to people calling me ‘[REDACTED]’ that I just decided to stick with it.
Well, until I feel like ‘[REDACTED]’ is no longer my name.
I got it from [REDACTED], more commonly known as [REDACTED] on various social media, back when he was my favorite YouTuber. I just took it without giving it too much thought, like, “yeah, this’ll do.”
I didn’t know until someone told me that ‘[REDACTED]’ is a unisex name. I didn’t know until almost a year later that ‘[REDACTED]’ has six letters in it, which is important because my mother chose my ‘deadname’ based on how many letters it had — which is six.
It seems fitting and it seems like it’s fate, yet I don’t feel like I’m a [REDACTED] anymore.
It’s very hard to put this down in words because it’s a very hard feeling to describe without labeling it as something very serious. I don’t want to offend anybody even though this is my WordPress and I technically can say whatever I want. I don’t want to go ahead and say, “hey, maybe I’m disassociating really hard.”
I know there are people out there who have suffered or are suffering a disassociative disorder that I know can cause a lot of harm. It’s a serious thing that I won’t undermine by saying I might have it too, without any professional diagnosis.
All I know is that everything feels so numb. I don’t feel any connections anymore and I hardly feel any real, solid emotions that are intense enough to be the least memorable. I’ve been having memory problems before but I’ve always just thought they were because I haven’t been sleeping enough.
But after Easter holiday, I’ve been sleeping more and more and I only ever get even more tired. I never feel like I have the energy to do anything. That might be classic depression but, again, I don’t want to go ahead and say that I have depression. It’s not like you can go and Google “how can I tell if I have depression?” and not find two hundred online tests that tell you you’re clinically depressed if you chose to answer any of the questions by choosing any of the remotely sad options.
Since coming to University, I’ve really started to notice this happen to me. I had friends and a constant close-knit circle of friends surrounding me five days a week, over ten hours a day. It’s the busy socializing that really stopped my mind from crumbling. Once I left that comfort bubble — and being very unprepared for it — I just began to slide.
I know I haven’t been the happiest person even back at home, where all the people I know and love who know and love me are. But having them there with me really prevented me from slipping into something worse.
Coming here made me lose everything and I’ve broken down more in a month than I have in two years back at home.
Okay, I know that this school offers a lot of help with these things, but I would never trust a stranger enough to reveal everything I feel to them. I would need to know their background, their medical licenses, and past experiences. Even if they make no sense to me, I would at least feel a little bit reassured that this person is at least certified by some people that they can just sit and listen and are trained to give you the best advice. I don’t want to walk into a room and talk to someone who was just picked up from the street because they answered an ad.
With someone who’s at least somewhat trained, they’d know how to react and offer you the best help. They would also keep it a secret. If I don’t know a person and they’re not some professional, how can I trust them to keep that secret?
And, even though I’m afraid of trying new things, I know that I shouldn’t really feel this way so I really want to actually get help.
It’s just a shame that I haven’t really reached out to the school wellbeing team yet.
I know I can and should, but it’s already approaching the end of term and I’m going home in about two weeks, so why bother? Admitting that I need help is one thing, actually going out there and get help is another.
So I have all these irrational thoughts about how even when I go home, I’d have no friends because my old friends have their own college lives and I, for some reason, still can’t really expand my social circle at University. I feel like I can’t make friends. I feel like when I go home, I won’t be able to connect or hang out with them as much because they’re the only people I know and depend on.
I know that if this is all true, I would fall apart and never be able to get back up.
I’ve kept them all bottled up inside my head because the person I used to go to console with is too busy and haven’t really been talking to me since coming back after Christmas break. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even cry because of what I’m feeling. I can’t feel anything.
I know that’s wrong but I really can’t feel the urge to fix it anymore.
I had a week in my life where I thought about contacting wellbeing but I put it off for the next day and then when the next day came, I put it off for the day after that. Eventually, the next days stop coming because I stopped counting.
I just want to sleep all the time.