I remember in 11th grade when my English class had to read Albert Camus’ “The Stranger” and everyone thought it was boring. I stole my copy from my school. I couldn’t identify with the situation (I never stabbed anyone on the beach), but I could identify with the underlying theme or pointlessness.
The one feeling that I could identify with the most was Camus’ constant focus on the Sun. Most people relate rain to depression or basically just bad moods and feelings. For me, when it’s rainy outside, I’m not happy (I couldn’t even tell you if I was), but feel so much more comfortable in most surroundings. So, I’m guessing DP is it. I’m hoping I found what I was looking for. I wandered around for a while, covering all this up but it only made things worse. I have always questioned my existence, but never wanted to end it. The worst part of my story is that I heard that
hallucinogens helped you “find yourself” so I tried to find myself as much as I could get my hands on any hallucinogenic substance. Needless to say, I have a heightened sense of awareness of myself pretty much all the time now. I haven’t taken any hallucinogens in about a year now and I’m a lot more functional than I used to be. But, taking a break from drugs has really made me think about whether I was this way before.
Conclusion: Most definitely, but I had coped with it so long that I was secure in my delusions. Know what I mean? In my mind’s eye I was totally normal…a little quirky, but normal. But I don’t want to keep rambling. I just want to remind myself and everyone that our souls are not tangible or quantifiable…and that’s not scary, it’s just reality….what’s scary is not being able to come up with an equation for “self.”