I have felt very unreal the last few days. The sense of unreality keeps coming back at odd times. There is a sense, really, that it’s simply not possible for life to have continued. I cannot be here now, doing these things, being the person I am.

Some of this is surprise at the person I have turned out to be. A lot of it is just how life feels after witnessing something horrifying. It just feels that life cannot have gone on. And, in fact, it doesn’t go on in the same way. It takes time to rebuild your sense of meaning about the world and about life.

There is all this new information to take in and organize: in my case, that people die, sometimes they die in terrible ways, that some people enjoy killing, that dead bodies are different than living ones, that the people you love can one day just cease to exist. And life is different after that. There is a very sharp before and after and it takes time to heal the rift that horror has created.

There is also this sense that it cannot be survived. There is just no my brain can ever process this. There is no way for me to go on. I cannot take it in now. I cannot imagine a time ever when I will be able to take it in.

In the end, I suppose you do take it in, but now I am in this place where it feels impossible for life to have continued after my friends began to be murdered. I cannot see how life could have ever moved from here to there. I cannot see how I might have come to understand life as something precious when I grew up with Yuri treating life like a candy wrapper. I cannot take in now that I feel it is a privilege to be here, alive, with other living people. I cannot take in that that is the sense at least some part of me has made out of it.

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