How shocking
Mar. 4th, 2016 23:36![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquillPhysiological shock definitely qualifies as an altered state of mind.
I've encountered it a few times in the last few years, but it was a couple of months ago (when I fell on the lathe in the shop) that I really recognized what was happening while it was going on. Tonight, Akien was adjusting my back and hips (as he has quite a few times in the past) and he happened to reset a portion of my lower back which induced mild shock. I spent quite a few minutes trying to collect myself, having random fits of sobbing as I lay on the carpet, and after I managed to find enough of my body to get into a sitting position, he and L held me for a few minutes. I would discover that I had a hand, and then lose it again to the sense of unreality. Oh, look, I have TWO hands! And feet. And things don't seem so floaty anymore. Breathe slowly and evenly, stop gulping for air...
After they went off to bed, I loaded myself into the car, cranked the heater to 90 or so, and started for home. I knew what was happening, after all, and I knew I'd get cold in short order (I was starting to get chills as I left the house). I also knew that I can drive while in that state, I've done it before without realizing what was going on. And I got home safely. But observing it was just weird.
My executive function is still intact, for one thing. So it's constantly reminding the rest of me that it isn't actually in a dream, and keeping focus on what's important. It directed the part of me driving the car to follow the solid white line to the right, and the rest of me responded "okiedokie!" No anxiety, no second guessing, just a cheerfully oblivious obedience. It's all a dream, right? My exec function sighed, "no."
I had to watch the speedometer like a hawk, because during part of the drive I was doing 50 and it felt like I was at jogging speed. We got a sudden shower in Walnut Creek and I could not shake the visual impression that the rain-splashed windshield was maybe an inch from my face, where glasses would be. Even as I hit the wipers and kept my eyes on the road, even as my higher brain said no, it's a couple of feet away, the optical illusion persisted.
I found I was irrationally disturbed by visual disorder: a line of road reflectors with one missing, asymmetry in the back ends of the cars I was following, and boy howdy I kept wanting to correct the freeway signs. It was like I was looking at designs in Publisher. New portions of the signs were the wrong color and reflectivity to match the old parts, and the arrows weren't centered, and the freeway number didn't have anything to balance it on the other side! Who set these line heights, anyway? Every so often I would see one that was perfect and correct, and it gave me a sense that everything might be all right after all -- but the color of that services sign doesn't coordinate with the yellow of the merge sign! It's the wrong blue.
Through all of this, my executive function presided like a teacher in an unruly schoolroom, keeping the car in the proper lane, checking in the correct three places before changing lanes, watching my speed. By the time I reached my house, the dreamlike sense was still there, but most of the outright hallucinations were gone; no more huge palm trees in the middle of the street a little way downhill, and taillights were taillights again rather than some odd glowing parts on an exotic animal. (Some time ago, when I was extremely tired on my way home, I distinctly remember the letters on the pavement spelling "Keep Clear" squeaking like small animals as I rolled over them. That sort of thing.)
It's one of the oddest drug trips I've had, no mistake. I expect it'll be cleared up by morning. I used to cry during half of my drive home from Dr. J back in the old days; I had figured it was because of the sudden cessation of pan, but now I suspect some of it might have been shock. Apparently sudden shifts in my body's alignment can do that, in some cases. At least there's no harm done.
I've encountered it a few times in the last few years, but it was a couple of months ago (when I fell on the lathe in the shop) that I really recognized what was happening while it was going on. Tonight, Akien was adjusting my back and hips (as he has quite a few times in the past) and he happened to reset a portion of my lower back which induced mild shock. I spent quite a few minutes trying to collect myself, having random fits of sobbing as I lay on the carpet, and after I managed to find enough of my body to get into a sitting position, he and L held me for a few minutes. I would discover that I had a hand, and then lose it again to the sense of unreality. Oh, look, I have TWO hands! And feet. And things don't seem so floaty anymore. Breathe slowly and evenly, stop gulping for air...
After they went off to bed, I loaded myself into the car, cranked the heater to 90 or so, and started for home. I knew what was happening, after all, and I knew I'd get cold in short order (I was starting to get chills as I left the house). I also knew that I can drive while in that state, I've done it before without realizing what was going on. And I got home safely. But observing it was just weird.
My executive function is still intact, for one thing. So it's constantly reminding the rest of me that it isn't actually in a dream, and keeping focus on what's important. It directed the part of me driving the car to follow the solid white line to the right, and the rest of me responded "okiedokie!" No anxiety, no second guessing, just a cheerfully oblivious obedience. It's all a dream, right? My exec function sighed, "no."
I had to watch the speedometer like a hawk, because during part of the drive I was doing 50 and it felt like I was at jogging speed. We got a sudden shower in Walnut Creek and I could not shake the visual impression that the rain-splashed windshield was maybe an inch from my face, where glasses would be. Even as I hit the wipers and kept my eyes on the road, even as my higher brain said no, it's a couple of feet away, the optical illusion persisted.
I found I was irrationally disturbed by visual disorder: a line of road reflectors with one missing, asymmetry in the back ends of the cars I was following, and boy howdy I kept wanting to correct the freeway signs. It was like I was looking at designs in Publisher. New portions of the signs were the wrong color and reflectivity to match the old parts, and the arrows weren't centered, and the freeway number didn't have anything to balance it on the other side! Who set these line heights, anyway? Every so often I would see one that was perfect and correct, and it gave me a sense that everything might be all right after all -- but the color of that services sign doesn't coordinate with the yellow of the merge sign! It's the wrong blue.
Through all of this, my executive function presided like a teacher in an unruly schoolroom, keeping the car in the proper lane, checking in the correct three places before changing lanes, watching my speed. By the time I reached my house, the dreamlike sense was still there, but most of the outright hallucinations were gone; no more huge palm trees in the middle of the street a little way downhill, and taillights were taillights again rather than some odd glowing parts on an exotic animal. (Some time ago, when I was extremely tired on my way home, I distinctly remember the letters on the pavement spelling "Keep Clear" squeaking like small animals as I rolled over them. That sort of thing.)
It's one of the oddest drug trips I've had, no mistake. I expect it'll be cleared up by morning. I used to cry during half of my drive home from Dr. J back in the old days; I had figured it was because of the sudden cessation of pan, but now I suspect some of it might have been shock. Apparently sudden shifts in my body's alignment can do that, in some cases. At least there's no harm done.
