The Spectre That Stalked My Soul

By Estefano Torres Photo By Ph03nix_ h on Pixabay Senior Staff Writer

It was early March of the year 2016 when I first “lost” my touch with reality.

My mother was removing pots from the counter below the sink, my younger brother was watching LEGO movies in the living room, and the rest of us were scurrying and moving things from the kitchen before its complete renovation the next morning. The environment in the house was busy, and all it took for me was a short pause to think.

I took out my phone to check the time, and took a break to look into the ongoing fixtures taking place in European football. There was not a trace of danger lurking anywhere, no conflicting issues to attend to, and practically nothing to be concerned about except temporarily moving our basic furniture downstairs into the vacant apartment (we were and still are the landlords, but if the kitchen was to be renovated, we just lost half of our daily functions in our main apartment!)

I am certain that we all have those moments in which we think random thoughts for no absolute reason but for our own pleasure and curiosity. So this is exactly what I did, an innocent, then 14- year-old freshman student with a strong desire to become a creative writer.

“What if this is not real? What if this is a dream? What if this is some sort of simulation and nothing I do will ever matter?”

My skin spikes and shudders to this day at this very short, specific, innocent thought that ruptured my mind afterwards.

In other words, I believed I was doomed in every way possible for the remainder of my journey both emotionally and academically due to something called derealization, which is a mental state where your surroundings seem distant and do not seem real.

Over the next few weeks, I sat down in my freshman classes in fear. I looked around the classroom to find my fellow classmates chatting with each other about what dirty joke the other student made, what plans there will be after school to go out, and what topic to choose from the periodic table assignment. Each day passed, and I would quiver as I questioned my own existence and why I was so stupidly sensitive to such a ridiculous thought that no one ever took seriously. That is when “it” introduced itself.

A horrifying spectre of immense stature manifested and towered over me. It would loom above, crafting a very gloomy external environment that my very sight interpreted, and phase into me, obscuring my vision and corrupting my emotional state.

Everything that I would physically be able to see was affected by my corrupted mindset. Everything seemed to be faint and nebulous . . . everything was just “gray”, if that makes sense.

The spectre of derealization initiated alarms that began to ring within me, frantic alarms that would begin to slowly morph and sound like repetitive piano notes which triggered my external panic. In addition, I struggled to breathe, and I began to sweat intensely on the outside as a result. What was the point of life if, in “reality,” nothing existed and this was all an illusion? The darkened spectre of brawny silhouette and nothing but dimly lit eyes unraveled damp, misty curtains that prevented joy and circled my mind. My train of thought began to derail, and sparks began to ignite the train’s rusted wheels that wobbled but tread to the acceleration of my panicked heart. The tracks that surrounded my mind began to break down slowly and vanish. The cunning spectre compressed my soul with the might of two planets that made my bones tighten and hands numb in the richest of terror. Finally, after all was done, the spectre stood back, observed the beautifully corrupted scenery of mangled emotion and desire, crossed its arms in satisfaction, and proceeded to do nothing but stalk well into my soul for the time to come.

This fear and sorrow began to take over me in the exterior realm we call Earth. The “typical stuff” happened: I was clinging on to my honor roll status, grades began to plummet, visits to school and professional therapists were made, and I would continue to question what I doing was doing, and if anything I did was real. The spectre embraced me closer than ever with this wicked dark energy.

“What if none of this is real and it doesn’t matter what I do to recover or get back on track?” I continued to tell myself as I lost my touch with the real world.

“Its cold gazing eyes took over mine, and I now felt as if a mask of desolate dark obsession took over my own face.”

The spectre took advantage, and attached itself closer to my mind and soul. It’s cold gazing eyes took over mine, and I now felt as if a mask of desolate dark obsession took over my own face. The spectre, with it’s antagonizing force of mental deception, was now in control of my gray, blurry conscience.

“What do you ponder?” asked the spectre.

“I ponder my own worth and purpose,” I replied through childish whimper.

“Then proceed to ponder as much as you like,” said the spectre, its deep growl echoing around my body.

Weeks after I made this hideous claim of everything not being what it seemed, something else occurred to me. While I spoke to close family and associates about this fear that somehow grew to tremendous proportions, I would also sit out on my front porch and look into the Housatonic River flowing in front of my house. I was tense, but I would quietly observe what was in front of me, while the spectre stood vigilant close by, it’s presence unnerving me from within.

I needed to work outdoors to gain fresh air. I felt the final winter breeze, a REAL icy breeze. I heard the vehicles driving by, REAL sounds of screeching tires. The food market’s fried fish had a pleasant scent, a REAL marina-like dining scent. I’d remember the struggles I had in the past academically, in the family, and preparing for my first steps into adulthood.

I suppose that my primary therapist contributed to this at the time, and made me realize that all of that was REAL. I discovered that there was no need to be “derealized” if I could truly feel the impact of my actions both emotionally and in the real world.

Along with many other situations I would get myself into after freshman year and beyond, I realized that, regardless of my foolish doubts, this was all REAL because everything that happened changed me, giving me a clearer vision for what is to come and being more mentally prepared.

The true feeling of struggle was like an anti-thought that was meant to battle the reality questioning fears I already had. The spectre wasn’t a demon or evil entity of any sorts, what occured to me was that it was a manifestation of needless doubt and derealization that I created myself.

My misperception of reality, I believe, was influenced by my changing circumstances in the real world. I would discover that I am quietly sensitive to change.

I was not rid of this spectre for a long time afterwards, as it still followed me throughout the rest of high school. The spectre would gain control once more during moments that had to do with making critical life decisions, such as seeking options after high school. Its mental strings remained attached.

However, with the assistance of family, personal beliefs, and especially, my own faith and cooperation, I slowly broke loose of this irrational concept that I feared immensely long ago. I would go on to apply and thrive at HCC, be introduced to wonderful professors and mentors, and finally, slowly overcome pillars of doubt continuously to this day.

As for the looming shadowy spectre that still follows me, which I created from my derealization, I can overpower it whenever I want, as it is a part of my mindset that grows each day with newer knowledge and experience. Doubt itself is washed away, and the spectre serves me as a reminder of my struggles, pain, suffering, and anxiety . . . and how I ultimately overcame those true emotions.

To this day, I still have a few minorly troubling thoughts related to my past fears of derealization and questioning reality for what it is. In addition, the spectre emerges on occasion to feed off my vulnerability and hesitation, such as during the process of college transferring . . . a change in environment.

But in the end, that dark feeling of dread I feel that leads to doubting my efforts in the real world is solved through experience and commitment.

I am certain we all have our own spectres of different sizes that are the embodiments of all our fears and internal struggles. Mine certainly was powerful, and I believe I will never be able to truly describe in full how hard it was for me back then. My fears associated to my perception of reality fueled my doubts, but I learned that I am only evolving as a person through pure experience.

“Do you continue to ponder?” asks the spectre in a strangely genuine sense of monotone.

“I do, but I will drag it with me to the ends of the Earth if I must, in order to unlock my true potential,” I reply, with little fear and hesitation.

The spectre grunts, and is pulled back into its cage, locked up at the back of my mind, no longer easily unleashed as before.

The tracks have been reconstructed, and instead of the spectre behind the controls, I once again dominate my own train of thought for the long journey that is yet to come.

Photo Art by Estefano Torres