I’m just figuring out how to describe it, after feeling it for 40 years. It’s like I’m watching life from a few feet away. I’m not seeing myself, I’m not outside my body. I’m inside looking out, and I have this overwhelming feeling that none of what I’m seeing is real. When I was 5 or 6, I asked my mother if I was actually a lion dreaming that I was a little girl. I don’t feel any connection to this body. I hate that I have to have it. So, do I want this all to be real, or do I want to wake up and go catch me a wildebeest for dinner? I don’t know.