Have you ever felt so disconnected from your body that you can't recognize your own hands? You look down and they're the hands of a stranger. For as long as I can remember, it is a sensation that I have simultaneously fought against and looked to for comfort.
Sometimes disconnect comes easily. A thought pattern can spark a slow and steady wave of numbness. It always starts in the fingertips and methodically engulfs the hands. Before I know it, I look at them, these foreign extremities, and feel nothing and the nothing feels good. The nothing feels familiar and unfamiliar, in alternating beats.
Sometimes I have fought to disconnect, sacrificed relationships, my health, my sanity, just to- leave. I don't do that anymore, but sometimes when I'm not paying attention, I look down at my hands and realize that a part of me is absent. It has left so effortlessly and it takes strength not to give in and allow the rest of me to leave too.