I've always struggled with maintaining a sense of reality. Not in the sense of dissociation but more so staying in the moment. At my friend's house we had 2 other people over, who were staying the weekend as they couldn't visit us often. I'd felt awful for weeks, like a train wreck that played in reverse, only to be played again and again. As I started to feel ignored, trapped, like they didn't care what I had to say, everything just blanked out. I can't remember getting up, I think I mumbled something about going to the bathroom and grabbed my sweatshirt. I just remember sitting in the bathroom trying to scratch my arm raw, the lights off, wondering if I waited here long enough if they'd even notice. The stinging pain under my hand was gracious, it dragged me from my thoughts, from the numbness and apathy that my feelings hidden behind brick and bones caused in moments of pain. I slipped on my sweatshirt after that, and it rubbed on my raw arm. No one noticed. I felt claustrophobic. I hated feeling alone in a full room.