The Shadow Among Us

Oh? The title is funny? Your humour is broken, I guess.

Anyway!

I was in the current reality, the "real reality" of where you, the reader, are living. I recently took my meds, just an antidepressant. I told my dad I wanted to stop my antipsychotics and mood stabilisers in the daytime only. Just for the sake of sacrificing my mental health just so I can go on a bipolar manic episode to write more chapters for all of you to enjoy.

Because when I'm in a stable, normal and sane state of mind. I really can't write anything. I would often- scratch that, ALWAYS have a writer's block since my natural creativity only comes from sick chemically unstable balance in my brain that causes me to become so creative and write a lot of things, to be honest with you. As well as overdosing on too much caffeine.

I would sacrifice my sanity just so I could write more. That is all for you, my readers, viewers, and fans wherein, Markiplier's quote…

"Some of you may die, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to take…."

And I am talking about the serotonin in my brain right now just so I can write.

That quote is definitely not from a Five Nights at Freddy's video. I think Markiplier said that in a movie called "All-Star"? Wait, no, Shrek. Yeah, definitely.

Anyway, I am not stable now, so let me just shift back to the story's reality.

I woke up. Sitting up on the bed, it is now 9:06 AM. I am trying to reminisce about what happened in the dream last night. The dream was me taking my medications. My father was there. I was 22 again at the time, yet my age for a 22-year-old made me look 18.

At first, in those dreams, I used to be super thin. I would eat so much but never get fat. But now I've got slightly chubby with a beer belly even though I don't drink… wine.

I guess my puberty finally kicked in at the age of 21, huh? But that was just a dream. I was writing on WebNovel. And… I don't remember much of the dream. In those dreams, I would often become hyperactive, childish, and emotionally immature for my age.

But today, this is probably what I call my reality. And that so-called "True Reality" is just nothing but a dream that can be easily forgotten once I wake up here in this world. I get confused about those two dimensions.

When I wake back up here in this world, I think this is real, but once I sleep and dream about that apparent reality, I think it is also real. It just depends in between two worlds. I can't really say for sure which one is right. And the Legal Woes song from Five Nights at Freddy's is still playing in the phone speakers of my room. I must have probably fallen asleep on it.

The pandemic is no longer a pandemic, though, you know, COVID-19? It is just treated just like the Flu by the government ever since Omicron didn't become much of a threat nowadays. They brought back the old normal, yet some people still wore masks just to be safe. It's better safe than sorry, right?

God, I hate my "dream personality", but my personality in this world is much better. I am more mature. Although I do enjoy my- wait, it would make sense if there had been a dissociative personality in that dream world that's been taking over me this whole time. And I am stuck in this world, unable to get out.

What if this world, my dream self, calls it nothing but a fiction book, is actually the fake one, and I am trapped in it? No wonder why I thought to myself that I am the only conscious being in this universe, and the rest of the world is nothing but a game simulation. And the actual reality is that dream itself and someone else of my split personalities have taken over my body there. Oh, no!

But well shit, I like it here better, to be honest. I hate going back to that world. Let that split personality be trapped under house arrest for the rest of his life. Unless the COVID pandemic in that world would finally stop, he could be free and ruin everything for me. What if I never get to come back? I don't know to be fair.