I often have strange sort of dissociative episodes . . . I’ll read my own writing, or think about my own memories, or I’ll see a picture of myself and I’ll feel as though I’m looking at some other dude’s life who happens to have the same face as me. It does not feel like my own life. It’s not scary or anything, and it’s not as though I perceive this Other Ryan to be my doppelganger. I know it’s me! I just feel removed from myself is all. Well, and maybe it’s no surprise that the thing I look at I don’t like at all, and I wonder how anyone else could either. I just see a cheap fraud. Hmmm. Should I be concerned that my personality is splitting in half? Maybe it has always been that way in less pronounced ways. I know there are distinct, uh, modes of myself . . . and I have always considered those Ryans to be different entities altogether. Maybe for all of us the singular nature of our personalities ain’t true at all, and what I’m experiencing is The Real Deal.
Find out next week when they put me in a straightjacket!!