So as far as feeling inspired but my own morbid curiosity of fear, here I am.
Reminiscing what feels like a hundred years ago, when a new thought process possessed me, got hold of me and separated me from myself, from the world, wherever that was.
My reassurance Im hoping gives you hope as I think my experience with what is called derealisation expanded my mind, inwards.
It seems now as I disengaged myself from it that in some moods I want it back, to see if I can survive it? To see if it can hang me over the edge of the world and show me the extent of loneliness.
I stared out into the world, into space for years and every night looked into the mirror and stared right into my eyeball and realised that no one could possibly know what was entering my brain? How could they? I looked so normal.

I hope it never comes to me again, but I can't help asking it to.