Made Out Of Air: Depersonalization & The Boundary-less Body

I often wonder if I will be in this state forever. Where I used to feel the outer edges of my skin, the tips of my toes, the shell of my torso, I feel flat, floating in a non-existent space. Psychiatrists call it depersonalization. I call it hell.

Normally when you look at a chair, you know that chair is separate from you: an object, inanimate. You can feel your heart beating in your chest and you know: I am alive, I am real. But when you live with depersonalization, the line between that chair — an object — and you — a person —…