The Chronicles of a Lost Time Traveller

Staring at the clock again... it’s 1am and I am beyond frustrated. I keep telling myself this gift is something to be grateful for, and yet I feel nothing but apathy and depression. Nothing ever seems to be worth the effort anymore. If I could explain what it feels like to relive moments in time, no one would dare wish this gift on their worst enemy. It sucks the joy out of every present moment because you already know the outcome of every possible action. It creates dissonance between you and your friends because no one understands (let alone believes you) when you say you’re stuck in dejavú. It makes you look like a lunatic with a poor memory because you either didn’t respond because you thought you already did or you have to constantly ask if you have already told this same story before. Who would want to read the same story twice!? I apparently am not one of those people. I despise reruns. No matter how hard I try to be spontaneous, I’m doubly reminded that my own conscious choices are not actually mine. I have no control in this life. Now, most people might actually be ok with that concept, but for me, it makes every single day and waking hour a bore. To lose the ability to artfully create the life of your dreams is like being thrown into the padded room at the psychiatric ward. You’re locked in, but you can’t escape, oh and just in case you forgot... no one can hear your cries for help. There are very little options when in this space. You could have a childhood temper tantrum and display the full range of human emotion... or you could sleep.

Lucky for me, my dreams allow me to travel to undiscovered lands. It is my one true escape from reality. Ever since I was a little girl I could escape this way, but now as an adult, it has become more of a desired destination. Sleeping days away is a peaceful vacation from the typical grind. A place where anything can happen, if I actually want it to. Conversations, relationships, experiences... nothing is off limits. Absolutely nothing. Which is exactly why I am here and now - lost in time. Unable to follow the breadcrumbs back to a reality where I was none the wiser to this possible existence. It all began when I decided to spend an entire weekend sleeping away my depression. I fell deep into a black hole where I met an extremely attractive, but disturbed man. He reminded me of every partner I had ever been with. Every story he told, brought up emotions within me related to the hurt I experienced time and time again when allowing my heart to be vulnerable. But he was slightly different. He had zero doubts about how much he loved me. He would shower me with unconditional love, material gifts, acts of service, and loads of praise. He made sure to tell everyone he knew what I was capable of. He had no doubts about my ability to empathically and telepathically know how to connect to people. He reminded me daily that we were a team, destined to take on the world. Despite his best efforts, my inner turmoil boiled. Part of me knew none of it was real, and the other part wanted so badly to feel again. I kept trying to wake myself up from this slumber, but I was too far gone. I feared I would never wake up again. I also feared waking up.

When you travel through time, it is easy to lose your ability to feel human. The dis-ease that builds inside of you makes you realize there are very few things to actually be grateful for. This is where the story begins. This is how you find your way back through time.