Dissociation. It might sound like a scary clinical term that happens to people with a trauma history or some other type of mental health concern. It might sound like something that only people with a dissociative disorder do. You know, those people, over there, who aren’t me.
“What if I were to tell you that everyone dissociates (to varying extents) and for different reasons? And that people do this regardless of their mental health status.”
You might say, well, that depends on your definition of dissociation. So, let me offer this broad dissociation definition: A state of being or feeling disconnected from the present.
Let’s break that down. A “state,” meaning it doesn’t last forever, and feeling as though you aren’t fully present. It can be as simple as that. Have you ever lost time mindlessly scrolling on social media? Do you daydream or get lost in planning what comes next? Have you ever driven to work on autopilot and not really remembered the details of your commute like you normally do? You get the gist. If you’ve had any of these experiences, or experienced something similar, congratulations, you’re in the dissociation club.
Dissociating at times does not mean that you have a dissociative disorder. If it doesn’t significantly impair your daily activities, you more than likely aren’t experiencing much impairment from dissociation.
“Have you ever lost time mindlessly scrolling on social media? Do you daydream or get lost in planning what comes next? Have you ever driven to work on autopilot and not really remembered the details of your commute like you normally do? You get the gist.”
There is much stigma associated with mental health issues in general, and when it comes to dissociation, there is no exception. Misunderstandings abound. Perhaps the movie/book Sybil comes to mind. Dissociation doesn’t mean that you’re “crazy” or that you are experiencing psychosis. Dissociation does not equal hallucination. Importantly, dissociating is NOT synonymous with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) (previously called Multiple Personality Disorder). While DID may involve dissociation, dissociating is not always indicative of deep-rooted trauma, though they do often go hand-in-hand.
So, if you find yourself feeling “not all there” right before, during, or after a very stressful presentation, that doesn’t necessarily mean you have any horrific mental health history and need to see a professional. However, if your dissociative tendencies are negatively influencing your life, you might want to consider it, because excellent help is available. Not to mention, I think everyone can benefit from counseling 😊.
So Why Do People Dissociate?
“Remember, there are levels of dissociation, and not all of them are extreme.”
As with many mental health symptoms, it all comes down to emotional regulation, or how you keep yourself at equilibrium and comfort yourself. For many people, dissociation was learned in childhood as a survival tactic when surroundings, internal feelings, or people became too overwhelming and scary. It can be an escape from the present. Sometimes, people might try to tell themselves, “This isn’t happening,” so they can get through a tough situation, and sometimes the experience may seem just more physical without much thought involved. You may feel like you’re in a movie or having a sort of out of body experience.
Remember, there are levels of dissociation, and not all of them are extreme. Take for example becoming frustrated at work and needing a break, so you watch funny cat videos or a quick makeup tutorial. That provides a sort of temporary escape as well.
Here are some common reasons people may dissociate:
· Needing a brain break
· Becoming overwhelmed/frustrated
· Anxiety/panic
· Public speaking
· Extreme emotions, including depression
· Trauma activation
· Feeling put on the spot in social situations
· Sensory overload (could be related to autism, but doesn’t have to be)
· Boredom
· Substance-induced
Dissociation may look different for everyone, and happen to varying degrees – Meaning dissociation can span from the brain break example to losing time completely.
Here are the common dissociation symptoms:
· Emotionally and physically numb
· Feeling out of touch with what’s going on around you
· Dizziness or light-headedness
· Panicky with heart pounding
· Feeling like you’re someone else or like you’re in a movie
· Changes in your perception of time passing
· Out of body experiences
· Little to no physical movement, feeling frozen (similar to catatonic state)
· Being unable to respond to your surroundings and the people in it, or taking much longer to do so
· Flashbacks
· Hearing voices
· Headaches and ear ringing
· Becoming absorbed in a fantasy world
On a More Personal Note …
To help give you some more in-depth examples of dissociation, I would like to share some of my own experiences. Make note, that if your dissociation experience isn’t similar to my own, it is still just as valid.
I remember what it felt like to think I was the only one who did “this thing,” and I think hearing experiences about dissociation earlier in my life would have helped me tremendously. I’ve not been diagnosed with any dissociative disorder, and that wouldn’t resonate with me anyway. Most of my mental health struggles stem from relational trauma, and I believe that’s the root of a lot of mental health issues for everyone.
“I ended up terming it ‘going away.’ When something became scary I would say to myself, ‘I need to go away,’ and I would … inside my mind.”
I have dealt with dissociation to varying degrees for a long time, but for much of my earlier years I didn’t know what it was. I ended up terming it “going away.” When something became scary I would say to myself, “I need to go away,” and I would … inside my mind.
I think dissociation developed for me because of having an unstable environment at times while growing up. I found that withdrawing into myself was comfortable and helped to keep me feeling as safe as I could. I didn’t really develop a fantasy land or anything like that, the experience leaned more so on the physical side for me.
However, dissociation didn’t serve me quite as well as I grew older when I would freeze up when people spoke loudly or become slower to respond when feeling put on the spot. I recall giving presentations in high school where I couldn’t tell you a single sentence that I said, or if I kept to the bullet points I had prepared for myself. Later, I got feedback that I did fine and my presentation went well.
What scared me was that I became so skilled at dissociating, that people didn’t know anything was wrong. My own therapist didn’t realize I was completely dissociated much of the time when I first started seeing her! And at that time, I didn’t have the language or education to understand or articulate what was going on. Gradually though, she started figuring it out when I told her that being around people scared me even though it didn’t used to. And that I was struggling to keep up with normal activities because I was activated so often. Dissociation is such a visceral response for me, that just screams: NOPE. DANGER. BYE.
“People would talk, but everything would feel fuzzy, sort of distorted, as if I was underwater. There was a barrier between me and the outside world. I could hear what people were saying, but nothing actually reached me.”
It’s physically exhausting. It felt like when I got too scared, a diving bell would descend on me (reminiscent of Sylvia Plath’s Bell Jar) and everything would feel like it was slowed down. People would talk, but everything would feel fuzzy, sort of distorted, as if I was underwater. There was a barrier between me and the outside world. I could hear what people were saying, but nothing actually reached me. If it got too intense, then it would feel like my throat would close up and I would have a panic attack. This was rare, but it did happen a few times during my undergraduate studies. I would hold it together until after I left a lecture hall, have a panic attack, and then have to sleep for a few hours to recover.
I think dissociating is my body’s way of saying, “Pump the brakes, Natalie.” For me, I think there’s a very clear purpose. Dissociation has provided me a buffer when my inner child is scared, triggered, and brought back to unsafe moments.
It’s rare that I completely dissociate anymore or get to the panic state, as I’ve gotten to manage my stress levels pretty well so that my activation doesn’t typically get to the point where I would dissociate.
The symptoms for me include first getting a headache and a feeling of numbness in my fingers, as if blood isn’t getting to them. That’s my warning sign that I need a time out, or my body will force one on me in the form of dissociation.
“Dissociation has provided me a buffer when my inner child is scared, triggered, and brought back to unsafe moments.”
If you experience any type of dissociation, I would encourage you to be as compassionate with yourself as possible and try to be curious about what it is that your body might be telling you.
· Does your inner child need attention?
· Is your body trying to warn you that something is scary?
· What can you do to take care of yourself?
My advice would be to know your own warning signs and find ways to cope that keep you in the present. Swimming and hiking are my main ones, as well as playing with my dog 😊. I don’t mean to oversimplify. This took me years. And now I am able to teach and public speak while being (mostly) present.
If I have enough time to prepare, I find that I won’t dissociate at all and enjoy myself while being all there. And it’s nice to be present and be seen. If that’s a goal of yours, know that it is totally possible.
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