I get this too. Not so much feeling like in a dream, more like I become too aware of the fact that I experience things. The most acurate way of puttning it would be that I'm used to thinking of everything in a kind of abstract sense. As sol as I become aware of the fact that I'm experiencing things here and now, things that used to be obvious, such as people being conscious or objects physicallybeing there, some how become impossible to imagine. I start questioning what I really believe, when the truth is, I probably never believed anything one way or other.
I found this in another thread, and it summarizes my experiencing quite well:
: Wed May 20, 2009 4:40 pm Post subject: My particular brand of solipsismThis is a feeling that has come and gone throughout the years, and I have to constantly remind myself of it, like a still-open question that I must not abandon, like a problem whose solution would hold the key to everything, yet in everyday life I almost never think of it. I vaguely recall the first time I came up with this idea. I was quiet, looking at my siblings. I think it was the first time I recognized them as sentient individuals. And automatically I thought, Why are they they, and I I? Why wasn't I any one of them, or them I? I know it sounds like a terribly complicated question, but it has re-emerged sporadically during all of my life. I have this unbearable weight of selfhood that I can't get rid of, this feeling of having to put up with my own identity. This is not to mean that I don't like being me; it's that it amazes me to exist at all. I think of the world, of every person alive, and can't understand why, of all the possible ways I could have been experiencing this world, it had to be through this particular body, in this particular time and place. I am me. I am this me. And it boggles my mind. Along with this feeling is the inevitable conclusion that the universe exists through me. (I know, I know, it's not an objectively meaningful statement; it's just how it feels to me.) What I mean by this is that, when I consider my link to the exterior world, I can't help feeling that the exterior world is only experienced by me. I don't have access to the inner experiences of other people, only to mine; and mine are the only ones that I can consider real. So, on top of this overwhelming feeling of uniqueness that accompanies my selfhood, I feel like I am the sole watcher of the whole of reality. Does this sound weird? megalomanical? delusional? nonsensical? familiar?
03 Oct 2013, 7:02 pm
