Author's note: Text and images in this article are copyrighted. Please keep this in mind if you wish to share this article. Any activity in psychotherapy begins with observation. Moreover, from observing yourself and your feelings. Perhaps this is legitimate for both the client and the therapist. Even if you are a researcher and not a practicing psychologist, self-determination is the most important part of your path in psychology. And I often watch myself, without a shadow of embarrassment. Behind emotions, thoughts, phenomena. Only, it’s not always possible to correctly and accurately interpret what exactly I just saw or discovered in myself. One of these very personal and intimate manifestations may be familiar to most people, but I just can’t find the right name for it. Neither in the dictionary nor in textbooks. Using all the richness and richness of the Russian language, others, unfortunately, I do not know, I will allow myself to call this phenomenon “Disappearing”. “Disappearing” is not really about feelings or emotions. This is about such a deep immersion in your dreams, when you believe with every cell of your soul and body in the reality of your subconscious. But when faced with reality, you try so desperately to grab onto them, to stay in their warmth and comfort, that they disappear right in your hands, like a snowflake. Or water in your palms. Imagine that you are watching a movie in a cinema. You are so immersed in what is happening that you don’t think at all that the film might end, be cut short. Regardless of our wishes, the credits roll and the lights slowly turn on in the hall. It is these seconds of emerging from the darkness that I call “Disappearing.” Several times in my life I had a very similar dream. It's about this feeling. My beloved grandfather has returned. Back from the dead. Or he didn’t die at all, and all the moments of his illness and death were a bad dream. But now, looking into his eyes, you understand that life goes on. And no one died. And everyone lives happily. But morning comes. The dark room is filled with light, like the dim lighting of a movie theater. The alarm clock brings you back to reality. And the fractions of a second in which you are desperately trying to realize where is the dream and where is reality, these fractions of a second that you inexorably want to stretch out longer, or even stay in them, in your dream, I allow myself to call these fractions of a second “Disappearing”. A similar story happens with the heroes of the film “The Return” by Pedro Almodóvar (Volver, 2006). The ghost of the mother, who was buried several years ago, returns to the family. And the children and grandchildren, who have already come to terms with the loss, have to relive the joys and sorrows that this return brought. Another example from cinema is Avatar (2009). Remember the joy and delight of the main character, who, while controlling the Avatar’s body, forgot that he was confined to a wheelchair? With what feeling of delight and happiness does he run? And what cold cruelty and reality he faces, abruptly returning to his half-immobilized body. It's probably very easy for all of us to believe what we really want to believe. And it’s so difficult to part with this feeling of “Disappearing”. It's like something disappears inside of you.