5 posts shown.
To be perfectly honest, I have frequently attempted to rationalize my own disposition by pointing toward some deep-seated birth trauma. My mother often recounts how my arrival into this world was nothing short of a medical catastrophe—there were such severe complications that she claims I nearly expired right then and there. She tells this ridiculous story about how I essentially decided to stay put for ten whole days, growing larger and more stubborn by the hour because I supposedly found things much more comfortable staying tucked away inside 🙂. When I finally made my grand, agonizing entrance, it was an absolute nightmare. I used to sit there and wonder if perhaps all my current struggles were merely a delayed psychological reaction to that grueling, traumatic struggle to enter the light of day.
Hey everyone! I have to say, I am genuinely thrilled to see such an outpouring of responses here; truth be told, I hadn't even checked this forum in quite a while because I was under the impression the whole discussion had simply withered away and died. It is honestly a relief to realize that I am certainly not alone in experiencing this particular phenomenon. There were periods in my past where these episodes hit me much more frequently, and during those darker times, I was gripped by this overwhelming dread that it might be the onset of something far more sinister and debilitating. My father struggled with severe mental health issues, so naturally, my mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—I feared I was beginning to follow in his footsteps. However, looking back at it now, I am starting to believe that it isn't nearly as terrifying as I once imagined.
Jack Williams6 said:I’m actually going through those exact same things mentioned in the first post—except for me, it hits about a couple of times a month. It’s this bizarre sensation where everything around me suddenly seems tiny, almost weightless, like objects have lost all their mass and I just... can't touch them. It’s that same specific feeling that strips away my ability to judge distance or size, and because my sense of gravity and weight just vanishes, I feel like I'm floating inside my own skin. I completely lose any grasp on the third dimension; it’s like being trapped in a two-dimensional world. My entire consciousness just gets swallowed up by the state itself. Once it finally passes, though, there’s this intense feeling of being "emptied out"—everything clears up, I can actually perceive the dimensions of the world again, and I feel like I'm finally standing firmly on solid ground.
I think I heard somewhere—maybe on some news program or a documentary—that this is actually a mild form of epilepsy. I might have misremembered what was said, but a doctor once mentioned that epilepsy isn't just about the "grand mal" seizures everyone thinks of; it includes these subtle, minor episodes that most people don't even realize they're experiencing 😢
I’ve been doing a bit of digging into the subject of epilepsy just now, and honestly, I think you hit the nail on the head regarding it being a more subtle manifestation of an epileptic seizure. This specific sensation is actually referred to as an aura. To put it simply, it's as if the neurons become hyper-reactive to stimuli, essentially sparking a localized storm within a single section of the brain. With an aura, that electrical tempest stays confined to a small area, which results in those bizarre sensations—for some, it might be visual distortions, for others, auditory hallucinations, or perhaps that disorienting sense of déjà vu, or maybe a dizzying cocktail of all three. Frequently, this aura serves as a precursor to a major seizure that spreads across a larger portion of the brain, acting as a warning sign for those dealing with more severe cases. However, sometimes the aura simply dissipates without ever escalating into a full seizure, which would represent the mildest possible iteration of the condition.
Here is a bit of what I managed to dig up; there seems to be quite a wealth of information available on the topic:
http://www.epilepsy.com/epilepsy/seizure_simplepartial
loneviper15 said:You described what happens to me perfectly (though it's much less frequent for me now than it used to be). The only extra thing I experience is this sense of fragmentation, like everything is stuttering or glitching out about ten times a second—like a t-t-t-t-t-tt 😁 I don't even know how to describe it, it's like the whole world is jerking or twitching.
The whole episode lasts about five minutes, and then it vanishes without leaving any lingering effects. What gets under my skin the most is the inability to make sense of it. As soon as it's over, the memory fades, making it incredibly difficult to recount what I actually went through during those few minutes. It’s as if I was operating in some completely different mode of existence. This only happens very rarely, maybe a couple of times a year.
In the past, I kept this to myself because it genuinely scared me. But last year, I had a bit of a revelation when I was chatting with a college roommate and realized he goes through the exact same thing. He tried to explain his experience, but he struggled to find the right words just like I do. However, we are both certain we're dealing with the same kind of "glitch"—something subtle and quiet yet simultaneously huge and deafening, involving that passage through a strange medium. He described it like traveling through a pipe that isn't hollow, but instead completely solid.
If anyone else out there is experiencing this, I would be so grateful if you could share. Does anyone know what this is? Is it a recognized phenomenon? Is there any literature on it? Is this something serious that warrants a trip to a psychiatrist?
And oh man, yes! That exact twitching sensation—all those mental images flash by accompanied by those jarring jolts, yet they remain totally elusive, as if everything is being squeezed under some sort of immense, crushing pressure...
I am going to attempt to articulate this with as much precision as possible, though, quite frankly, even I struggle to pin down a definition for this sensation.
I’m twenty-two years old, and looking back, I can recall these episodes occurring since I was just a child. It always follows the exact same trajectory; I recognize the onset instantly, knowing full well that I am about to embark on this experience again within the next few minutes. It typically strikes when I am exhausted—perhaps during a mid-afternoon nap or just as I’m drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, my perception of the objects surrounding me undergoes a radical shift. Objects seem to gain this immense mass, yet simultaneously, I harbor this bizarre impression that they have shrunk in scale and are hovering right within arm's reach; for instance, if I’m lying in bed, I get this overwhelming sense that I could simply reach out and grab the doorknob across the room.
Inside my mind, things become even more surreal. These aren't hallucinations in the traditional sense, but rather an intense internal sensation—a constant, paradoxical tug-of-war between thoughts of something being gargantuan and something being microscopic. There is this quiet voice that manages to be piercingly loud at the same time, almost as if it’s shouting at me, all underscored by a mounting sense of dread. Then, I experience this sensation of hurtling through something perfectly smooth and level, only to plunge headlong into a chaotic nightmare of jagged edges and sharp protrusions, moving through it all at breakneck speed. None of this manifests physically; it is purely a phenomenon existing within my consciousness. The moment I attempt to focus on one specific sensation, it slips from my grasp, only to reappear in some other part of my periphery that I wasn't attending to. I am perpetually submerged in this medium, unable to truly grasp its nature. It feels as though I am constantly on the precipice of understanding exactly what is happening, but the truth always eludes me by a hair's breadth.
The entire episode lasts about five minutes before vanishing entirely without any lingering physical aftereffects. What infuriates me most is this absolute inability to comprehend the mechanics of it. Once the event concludes, the memory begins to fade immediately, making it incredibly difficult to describe the sheer intensity of those few minutes. It is as if my brain switched into an entirely different operating mode. This doesn't happen often—maybe just a couple of times a year.
In the past, I kept this to myself because the sheer strangeness of it was frightening, but I was stunned last year when, during a conversation with my college roommate, I realized he experiences the exact same thing. He tried to explain his version, but he too found himself stumbling for the right words. However, we are both certain that we are navigating the same type of "disorder"—this strange duality of something being tiny, quiet, and yet massive and deafening, combined with that feeling of passing through a specific medium. He described it somewhat like traveling through a tube that isn't hollow, but is instead completely solid.
I would be immensely grateful if anyone else who experiences such phenomena would share their accounts. Does anyone know what this might be? Is it a recognized condition? Is there any literature or research on this topic? Most importantly, is this something serious, and should I be seeking out a psychiatrist to discuss it?