When the World Feels Far Away: On Dissociation, Trauma, and Coming Back to Yourself
Content warning: This piece discusses dissociation, trauma, and chronic pain.
For years, I didn’t know I was dissociated. I knew about dissociation in the way therapists know lots of things: academically and somewhat abstractly, a concept I explained to clients. I could rattle off the DSM criteria, describe the nuances of derealization and depersonalization, and even suggest grounding techniques with the confidence of someone who had it all figured out. But recognizing it in myself? That was a different story.
Dissociation, as it turns out, is a lot like realizing you’ve been wearing someone else’s glasses. You don’t notice how blurry everything is until someone points it out, and even then, it takes a while to adjust to the idea that the world isn’t supposed to feel this far away. For me, that blurriness was a constant companion. It made sense, given the trauma I’d endured and the relentless physical pain of hEDS, POTS, and my other chronic health concerns. But no one noticed—not even my therapists. And honestly, why would they? Dissociation doesn’t exactly show up with a neon sign that says, “Hey, I’m checked out over here!” It’s more subtle than that, more insidious. It’s the emotional equivalent of background noise, the kind you don’t realize is there until it stops.
What Is Dissociation, Really?
Let’s start with the basics. Dissociation is a morally neutral response to overwhelm. It’s not a failure or a flaw; it’s your brain’s way of saying, “This is too much, and I need to step back.” For some people, it’s a fleeting sense of detachment. For others, it’s a more profound disconnect from reality. There are two major types that often come up in conversations about dissociation: derealization and depersonalization.
Derealization is when the world around you feels unreal or distorted. It might feel like you’re living in a dream, or like the people and places around you are flat, distant, or fake. Colors might seem duller, sounds might feel muffled, and time might stretch or warp in strange ways.
Depersonalization is when you feel unreal or detached from yourself. It’s like watching your life from the outside, as if you’re a character in a movie rather than a person living your own experiences. You might feel numb, robotic, or like your body doesn’t belong to you.
Both are ways of coping with overwhelm, and both can be deeply disorienting. But here’s the thing: dissociation isn’t inherently bad. It’s a tool, one that many of us use without even realizing it. The problem isn’t dissociation itself—it’s when it becomes our default way of being and we can’t stop doing it, even when we want to. It leaves us stranded alone in a world that feels perpetually out of reach.
Why Didn’t Anyone Notice?
Looking back, it’s easy to wonder why no one—not my therapist, not my doctors, not even me—recognized what was happening. But dissociation is notoriously hard to spot, both for the person experiencing it and for those around them. Here’s why:
It’s Invisible: Unlike anxiety or depression, which often have visible signs, dissociation happens internally. You can look perfectly functional on the outside while feeling completely detached on the inside.
It’s Normalized: Many of us learn to dissociate early in life, especially if we grew up in environments where overwhelm was constant. When it’s your baseline, it doesn’t occur to you that there’s another way to feel.
It’s Misunderstood: Even among healthcare professionals, dissociation is often overlooked or misdiagnosed. Unless a therapist is specifically trained to look for it, they might not think to ask the right questions. Therapists are human, too, and unless they’re specifically trained to look for dissociation, it can slip through the cracks.
It’s Protective: Dissociation doesn’t feel like a problem when it’s happening because in the moment, it isn’t. It’s your brain’s way of keeping you safe. The trouble starts when it becomes your only way of coping.
How to Be Kinder to Yourself
If you’ve spent years dissociating, it’s easy to feel frustrated with yourself. Why didn’t you notice sooner? Why can’t you just snap out of it? But here’s a complex truth: dissociation isn’t really something you choose most of the time. It’s something that happens to you, often without your awareness. Beating yourself up for it only adds to the overwhelm.
Instead, try to approach yourself with curiosity and compassion. What if dissociation isn’t a failure, but a sign that your brain is doing its best to protect you? What if it’s not about fixing yourself, but about creating the conditions where you feel safe enough to come back to the present?
Grounding Strategies for When the World Feels Far Away
If dissociation is something you experience frequently, grounding strategies can help you reconnect with the present moment. But let’s be honest: grounding is hard when you live in a body that feels like a minefield of pain and unpredictability. Some grounding techniques—like focusing on your breath or doing a body scan—can feel impossible when your body is the last place you want to be. When your body is a source of pain, focusing on it can feel like opening a door you’d rather keep closed. Focusing on alternatives, grounding strategies that don’t require you to ignore or push through your pain, can be a great place to start. Some examples (though definitely a list meant to inspire and not be comprehensive):
Cognitive Grounding
Engage with a Special Interest: Dive into something that fascinates you, whether it’s a deep dive into a historical event, a new crafting project or hobby, or an episode of your favorite podcast. Let your brain latch onto something that feels alive and engaging.
Write a Letter: Not to send, necessarily, but to process. Write to your past self, your future self, or even someone who’s hurt you. The act of putting words to paper can help you feel more connected to your thoughts and emotions.
Play with Language: Try writing a poem, creating a pun, or translating a phrase into another language. The mental effort required can help pull you back into the present.
Relational Grounding
Care for a Pet: If you have a pet, spend some time with them. Notice the way they move, the sound of their breathing, the weight of their body against yours. Pets have a way of grounding us without demanding anything in return.
Reach Out to a Friend: Send a text, make a call, or write an email to someone you trust. Even if you don’t talk about what you’re feeling, the act of connecting with another person can help you feel more real. Even lower-energy interactions like sending a meme can be grounding.
Engage in Mutual Aid: If you’re up for it, do something kind for someone else. It doesn’t have to be big—just something that reminds you of your capacity to care and connect.
Coming Back to Yourself
Dissociation doesn’t have to be permanent. With time, support, and practice, it’s possible to feel more present, more connected, more here. It’s not about never dissociating again—it’s about creating a life where you feel safe enough to stay grounded, even when the world feels overwhelming.
If you’re reading this and realizing that dissociation might be part of your story, know that dissociation is a survival strategy, one that has carried you through moments of pain and overwhelm. It doesn’t have to carry you forever. You deserve to feel present in your life, to feel the full weight of your joys and sorrows. That’s something worth coming back for. Even now, I still dissociate, but now I know it’s not forever. That makes all the difference.