# Hello, I am Jäger, the man in the mirror. And that's Chris.



## Jager (Oct 23, 2017)

Hello, I'm Jäger.

My story begins 5 years ago, when I was 15 years old. Summer night, I bought a 2 liter of Mountain Dew, a couple Monsters and a bag of chips. School had just ended for me, and I was playing games online for 20 hours a day, and sleeping for only 4 hours of the day. All day and night I would be playing with the same large group of friends. Laughing, farming XP and leveling up our characters, because what else did teenage kids do during summer? Everyone had got off for the night, and I stayed up alone, listening to music, farming my character mindlessly. Everything seemed to be perfectly fine. I passed out, and woke up in the middle of the night, used the restroom, got a snack, punched the dangling fly trap that hung off the light in my kitchen, turned the light off and laid down on my couch in the living room to sleep.

Then the dream came.

It was 6 A.M., nobody was awake, 30 minutes prior to my parents alarm going off for them wake up and get ready to go to work. I knew it was a dream because the lighting outside didn't feel like it had match the time. Then it hits me, I'm lucid dreaming! I sit up and look around, staring at my hands. How different they felt. I talk and my voice is deeper. I look in the mirror and thought "he's more handsome than I am". Wait, who is that in the mirror? I stare at him for a moment, looking at every facial detail, until the alarm rang, and my mom was yelling at me from her room and shaking me at the same time. She looks at me and said: "You need to go to bed, you fell asleep looking at yourself in the mirror you weirdo." Fell asleep? I just got in here. 30 minutes had passed since I woken up, looked around and went into the bathroom. My mother was in the other room, sleeping while she was in my face telling me to go to bed. I lay down and I watch the minutes go up by the second, and by the time I realized it, my dog was out of food, my alarm i set for 6 hours is already going off, and I just laid down because my mom brought me to the couch. It's already noon.

I was so tired. I laid down and I woke up, in the same dream. I walked into the office and grab a tack off the board on the wall. I take the pointed end, and I slowly push it against my skin. It didn't hurt. I'm dreaming! I had a small prick in my hand, and I place the tack back, shake my hand and went about the day. The computer was different, someone must've played a prank on me and re-arranged my keys because nothing I had typed was correct. Why was the mouse so fast? It was usually very slow. I open Team Speak 3, and open my voice chat channel. Who were these people in this voice channel, talking? I went back to my couch and laid down. And I dreamed again. The same dream. With the same cut on my hand. I went back to bed, I wake up, my mom asks me if I'm okay, and I said I'm fine. Everything was okay, what was she so concerned about? It had been 4 days, and I had not eaten. I wasn't sad, I wasn't happy, I wasn't awake. It was all just a really long dream, and everytime I woke up I felt more tired. I ate some food. I drank some water. I slept. I woke up. I drank some water, ate some food. I slept. I talked to whoever talked to me. Nothing more than sound coming out of peoples mouths.

My hands didn't seem like my hands. My eye's didn't see what my eyes were looking at. Everything was a haze. But what was this "movie" in my head? Who's life was I watching? What was I listening to? How come games are more real than my life? Everything was fine when I was on the computer. But The games seemed so real, I shot someone in the game and my heart raced. I was sweating, cold sweat chills, my eyes darted everywhere. I quickly said "I gotta go!" and shut down my computer and slept. I woke up and everything was so much worse. My heart didn't stop beating. What if I did that in real life, how could I control myself? How could I stop myself? I quickly try to sleep. I wake up paralyzed, and I can't move, and I feel someone watching me. I'm dreaming in a fucking dream.

The man in the mirror was still handsome. The towel looked so nice hanging off the curtain rod in the mirror. The mirror was so real, that my eyes felt normal again staring through the mirror. The anxiety was gone. Everything was real. And he looked real. But once I looked away, the haze came back. Nobodies voice ever seemed to exist, I felt like I was alone even when I was with a crowd of friends. School started again, and I was sitting in a classroom now, in an empty room full of people sitting at desks.

But then I met a girl, and I fell in love. It was the hardest thing ever. I had to reinvent myself. Thinking about every word to say, every hand action I did, how to drive, how to type, how to think, how to hear, when to pay attention, how to pay attention, how to love. We were together for 3 years, and It was the most toxic relationship and most depressing years of my life. An empty person just like me, but only felt alive by excitement of sleeping with guy's who aren't me behind my back. But she was the only person who truly understood what I was going through.

Because she was dreaming too.

I've been studying psychology for the past 5 years, and I simply learned everything from my studies. But over time I've lost most of my sympathy, I have grown to fake confidence. I fake my happiness. I fake my lust. I fake everything. In job interviews, I'm just whoever the person in front of me wants me to be.. I've grown to fake emotions, fake expression, fake body language. I've done so many daredevil stunts without fear because it made me feel more alive. I learned to fake everything so I'm not a burden to anybody. Just so I can fit in. Over the years I taught myself how to cope with who I am, what I am, what I have, what I feel, how to feel when things happen. I practically "reinvented" myself to better myself. I was told the dreaming would end, that it usually lasts a day, 3 days. A week. A month. And it's the definition of hell. I would *never* harm myself or others. Sure, I've thought of suicide, but I don't want to waste the only life I've got. And.. as weird as it may sound, I can't wait to die. Weed has no effect on me (And believe me I've tried everything), except it makes me really tired and gives me a fat headache. The only thing that makes me feel more alive is being buzzed, but not drunk. And I guess I'm a lot better of person to be around when I'm drunk too. (?)

A simple explanation (I guess):

I'm just Jäger, and my life is just a dream for Chris to watch. He's just the one that watches what I see, feels what I feel, and listens to what I hear. And he's been dreaming for the past 5 years. And It's nice to meet you all.


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## Wendy (Aug 7, 2013)

Welcome to the forums. You have fantastic writing ability. Do you write in your spare time by chance?


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## Jager (Oct 23, 2017)

Hey SolomonOrlando! And yes, I do write in my spare time! Ever since I developed DP/DR, I picked up the gift an overflowing mind full of stories. Back in high school, I had plenty of other students allowing me to write 3-4 page stories for them to turn into their teachers for credit. I was never much of a story-teller/writer before DP/DR, but ever since then I've able to write a stories as I go. My family, especially my nieces and nephews love my storytelling.


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## Messed up brain (Oct 25, 2017)

Hello Jäger, your writing was amazing! You described the feelings so good!


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## willbarwa (Aug 26, 2017)

Jager said:


> Hey SolomonOrlando! And yes, I do write in my spare time! Ever since I developed DP/DR, I picked up the gift an overflowing mind full of stories. Back in high school, I had plenty of other students allowing me to write 3-4 page stories for them to turn into their teachers for credit. I was never much of a story-teller/writer before DP/DR, but ever since then I've able to write a stories as I go. My family, especially my nieces and nephews love my storytelling.


Does writing help you ? If so, make it a profession. This may be a calling. Sometimes DP stems from past trauma and unfulfilled goals or awakenings. This may be that wake up call...who knows?


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## Lexy67 (Sep 23, 2017)

I know the feeling of not feeling like you. The hair, the hands, the eyes... and the taste in my mouth. It's not me. It's soneplace in me but it's off center and I can't get back into the control booth.

Do I miss feeling connected to ppl? Yes. It's such a primal feeling. I want to feel that. The closeness. 
My life has taken in a banal routine of waking and then sleeping with lack of colours or feelings or life. 
It is so very hard. 
If anyone has a clue to how to get out, please share w me.


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