I don't know how to feel about this wacked out email my ex sent. I replaced our names for privacy reasons and you can read the whole thing below. I'm getting more and more upset thinking about it. My ex has never lied about anything like this before and the only time I can think of similar behaviour was a few weeks after we broke up when my ex had a suicidal crisis and ended up in hospital.

I've been dating someone else for the last 6 months and I'm not really meant to talk to my ex much, but I don't want to say I don't want to be friends so I usually just act disinterested and try to leave. That was working until a couple of months ago when my ex started trying to message me daily and it was interfering with my relationship... then I asked for a small favour a few weeks ago but my ex refused to spite me so I just haven't been replying. So now I don't know if this is real, or it's to get back at me because I didn't want to talk. My ex sounds a bit smug which makes me think it's a sick joke, but my ex does have mental health issues and would be smug and detailed if this is true.

I don't know what to believe and I feel like an empty husk all the time. I don't know what I like, I don't know what I want, I have no idea who I want to be half the time. Did my ex just put all the pieces together and I really am not even real? I don't want to not be real, that's why I hate being alone. 

&amp;#x200B;

Can someone tell me how to take this? I don't think it's a joke.

&gt;Dear \[OP\],  
&gt;  
&gt;Something just happened, but it's hard to explain.  
&gt;  
&gt;I recall at one point there were two conflicting versions of you sitting in my brain: gentle \[OP\], and grumpy \[OP\]. For the most part my subconscious quietly churned over in the background and handled reconciling the two. Every so often, my subconscious would escalate a mismatch that I'd have to resolve before it would drag you back into the recesses of my mind of more silent processing.  
&gt;  
&gt;Today a high priority ticket popped up in my mind. It tasked me to decide which \[OP\] was the real \[OP\]. I had encountered this question a few times before, but I'd always pop it back in the queue behind a series of information requests so it wouldn't show up again for some time. I attempted my old tactic, but just as quickly as I found a question the answer filled my mind. I tried again, then again, but there was no getting around the fact that I had everything I needed to decide which \[OP\] was real \[OP\]. All I had left to do was decide.  
&gt;  
&gt;I don't know if even 30 seconds passed, but I remember staring at the palms of my hands: the left was a portal to everything I knew about gentle \[OP\], just as the right fast tracked me to every detail about grumpy \[OP\]. There was a lot of tension between my hands having them sit edge to edge, but aside from that I can't tell you why decided to do what I did... I just rolled my hands closed and the second they clapped the tension was gone. The stress was gone. The thoughts swimming in my head were gone.  
&gt;  
&gt;You were gone.  
&gt;  
&gt;It's like I had left a light on for you all these months, but it was time to accept I wouldn't see you again. When I finally flipped off the lightswitch I realized there had never been a bulb in the lamp, there had never been a house with a porch in the dark, and if I hadn't just imagined you too, we'd certainly never met.  
&gt;  
&gt;I don't know what to say. I had been sore you weren't talking to me for weeks and wouldn't tell me why. But I can't even pretend I care right now... I can blow on your memories and like a layer of dust they swirl around and float away. It would upset me to tears yesterday to lose even a single detail of our time together, but now I can't recall your middle name, or what colour your eyes are, and even though that information is retrievable from outside sources I can't think of a single reason to care if you fade away like mornings fade my dreams. I know I should feel crazy with all the things I'm saying, but my anxiety and depression evaporated when you became unreal so I've never felt so stable and confident and just... happy?  
&gt;  
&gt;I'm sorry, but I don't believe in you anymore.  
&gt;  
&gt;I'm going to go get checked for an aneurysm and assessed for psychosis as soon as my friend picks me up. Please don't be upset if there's nothing wrong with me and this is just acceptance that nothing about you makes sense because you're simply not real. I might drop off your radar for the foreseeable future if I feel this good all the time. You'll be okay, you are already someone else's imaginary friend, and I'm not going to rat you out for pretending to exist.  
&gt;  
&gt;  
&gt;  
&gt;Sayonara,  
&gt;  
&gt;\-\[Ex\]

&amp;#x200B;