I’ve done this before too when I was in the height of my postpartum depression. I didn’t even realize that I had passed my exit on the highway until I was two exits passed mine. I tried to tell my father, who used to be a doctor, about it because it was terrifying and I was concerned; he told me that I shouldn’t tell anyone that that had happened. Because,to him, you’re batshit crazy if you do that.

Funny how he ended up causing me the most trauma that only led me to disassociate MORE. I can barely get through a therapy session because I will disappear mentally. It’s sad.