3 Dissociative Fugue Stories To Demystify The Old Funky Myths

Dissociative fugue stories should be about people traveling 153 miles in the wrong direction, not knowing who they are when they arrive. Or immigrants who sleep in the cargo space in a ship and don't remember anything from the journey. And of course, the mysterious person wandering around the park for days and has no idéa why they are there. News stories like this are about trauma and monumental travels.

But the stories in this blog post are different. They are about tiny travels—about confusing moments. "

"How on earth did I get here this soon?" you might think after driving a familiar route. This kind of experience is pretty typical. Our brain is fantastic. When you do something that you're well up in, your brain can turn on the auto-pilot and do its thing. That leaves you space to think about other things. You've most likely been driving safe and kept the speed limit. 

But in a dissociative fugue state, this is different. 

There will always be something that triggered the dissociative fugue. It can be a traumatic incident. But it can also be a reminder of something traumatic. Sometimes I know what started it. Other times I had no idea. Even though it's the mysterious stories we hear about in the news, the mini-fugues are by far the most common. It can be about someone hiding in the closet, but they don't remember how and why. It could happen in a country far away. Or it could happen just around the corner, in your neighborhood. And this leads me into the first story:

"Where are the car keys?" my hubby asked. He was in a hurry, and the keys were not on their spot. "Oh, not again!" I whispered. I was the last person using the car. A familiar sting in my forehead told me what I didn't want to know. I had lost track of time and space. Having PTSD and a dissociative disorder can mess up a lot of things.

To forget where I put things is quite normal. So, for example, racing around the house to find my phone is ordinary— I kind of know where it is. Nevertheless, I can not find it. Then suddenly, it jogs into my mind; of course, it's charging!

But this was different. I had no idea where I had put the keys. So we were frantic searching for it. Then, at last, we found it, and he could leave the house. The difference between my phone charging and the lost keys was that I had no idea where the keys were. And when we found them, I had no memory of how and why I left them there. So you can call it a mini fugue. 

The embarrassing part of the second story is that I cannot recall it. However, my boss, who thought I was acting wired, told me about it afterward. It was a busy day at work. I talked with a customer when my boss came up to me and gave me another task. Instead of finishing up with the customer, I went to the next job. Leaving the customer and my boss puzzled. And when the boss, furious, asked me about it later, I had no clue what she was talking about and couldn't remember anything. 

The third fugue story happened many years ago. I was entering the sports hall in my school when something very triggering happened. Suddenly I ran out the door and ran for 3 kilometers before I came to myself. Even though it was mid-winter in Norway, I wore shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt. In other words, I had dressed for indoor training. Freezing like a dog, I had to get back to my dorm room as soon as possible. Even though I was in good shape, the run back home felt like forever.  

I have had many episodes of mini-fugue, but it took me quite a bit of thinking to come up with these simple stories. You see, dissociative fugue happens when our brain is not in a normal state. 

Paul Dell has developed the MID questionary, an extensive instrument to uncover dissociative disorders. He says dissociative fugue and fugue states are way more common as in-house experiences than some out-of-town travels. Did these stories touch you? Please leave a comment or share this post with someone you think would value it.