I'm convinced I died in 2023. And I just found out. [TW: Self-harm]
It is 4 AM my local time, and despite never having written anything on Reddit in my life, I feel compelled to write this. If you're reading this, I appreciate you being here.
It was the spring of 2023. I had just graduated from university and landed myself a comfy job. All of that changed because of a heartbreak.
By May, I had been battling intense clinical depression. I had lost my appetite and shed several pounds. I couldn't sleep without the TV on, and I couldn't bring myself to eat, focus on anything, or work at all.
The details are a little fuzzy now, but a few hours after my graduation ceremony, I went to the top floor of my building, around 4 or 5 stories high, deciding to end my life. I sat on the stairway at the top floor for what felt like hours...
And then suddenly, something flicked.
I took the elevator back down to the ground floor where I lived. I went to see the best psychiatrist money could afford, and my life more or less turned around that very year. Not long after, I got together with the love of my life, someone I had known since university.
The medications worked. And
It has been three years since that incident.
Today, while working, I suddenly had a vision after looking at a picture of a specific street, the very street I would've had a view of if I had jumped from that building. Conveniently enough, I was listening to the same song I had been listening to before I decided to jump.
Everything looks and feels the same, except for little things.
Food I used to love tastes unfamiliar now. Movies that once made me cry do nothing to me. Jokes I would've laughed at three years ago feel like they belong to somebody else. Sometimes I hear myself speak and catch a reaction that doesn't feel entirely natural, like I'm following a personality from memory instead of instinct.
Most days I can ignore it.
My partner can't.
Every so often they stop and stare at me for a second too long, usually after I say or do something small, and ask why I've changed so much since that year. They tell me I still look the same, sound the same, smile the same.
But that something about me feels slightly wrong now.
Like whoever walked back into that apartment that night came back almost perfectly copied.