The In-Between
I have had a handful of intensely negative experiences where I found myself stuck in the "in-between". I'm writing this article to formally recognize the in-between as a real condition, rather than dismissing it as a fabrication of the panicked mind, undeserving of serious contemplation.
Below, I illustrate two scenarios that trigger the sensation of being stuck in the in-between.
Scenario I: Repelled by Both Ends
In the first scenario, I can locate myself on a one-dimensional spectrum, feeling repelled by both ends. I am left suspended in an uncomfortable, indecisive, and paradoxical state. In such a state, words fail to describe it, because words attach easily to either end while I occupy neither. In my previous piece on the uncanny tunnel, I illustrated many versions of these opposing ends. To quote a few:
"I might desperately need connection, but I also know I must not force attachment.
I might desperately need reassurance, but I also know I must not chase validation.
I might desperately need healing, but I also know I must not victimize myself."
The two-end analogy captures a situation that tempts resolution by choosing a side, yet I feel resistance to both. This failed "end-membership" categorization drops me into a dark tunnel in-between, where frustration escalates, hope fades, and communication becomes futile.
Scenario II: Trapped Between Worlds
The second scenario generalizes the first one from binary to multi-class categorization. There are multiple legitimate worlds, but I cannot place myself in any of them.
A concrete example: I have long struggled to articulate my research focus because I am reluctant to go with any existing focus that is simply "out there" to be selected. This was unmistakably an identity crisis, though I've made huge progress in making peace with it. I once assumed this struggle would ease as I become more senior. It hasn't — as least not in the way I expected. I still feel in the in-between. What has improved is my tolerance for it, and my mental flexibility in holding it with less seriousness.
This failed "world-membership" categorization often leads to extreme loneliness. I am trapped in the crack between worlds: unseen, unlocatable, unable to describe where I am or how isolated I feel. Layered on top of this is frustration about my inability to communicate that frustration.
"There are so many possibilities, but I can't decide, neither can I rest. I'm trapped in the in-between, immobilized. There are multiple worlds and I don't belong to any of them, I'm stuck in the cracks." —— Me, Dec 4, 2025
I once wrote to myself: "it's not about choosing a side; it's about holding the paradox; it's about keeping the question unsettled." This perspective lifted much of the heaviness of the in-between. Still, I remember the helplessness, restlessness, and deep confusion about why everyone else seems spared from this struggle. I still encounter flashbacks of these intense states. An excerpt from my personal writing offers a glimpse of how disorienting it can be to be fully immersed in the middle.
"There is an inexplicable sorrow when I sensed that communication, in any form, was incapacitated. Then comes an undecidable suspicion that either “everything is fine” or “everything is so fucking wrong!" —— Me, Dec 4, 2025
The In-Between is a Phase in a Process
I now think the in-between is part of a process that unfolds over time. Intellectual advancement tends to run ahead of practice and integration, at least this is the case for me. The moment I see, or realize something new, some old beliefs, behavioral patterns, or ways of spending time are shed. However, new beliefs, habits, or practices have not yet formed. This feels as though I've demolished my old house and left myself shelter-less and root-less, while the new one remains unbuilt.
In these moments, I am prone to question the righteousness of demolition. Did I go overboard in risk-taking? Was I too reckless? Alongside this doubt is a strong yearning for a new house, which often heightens my annoyance at the utter lack of any visible blueprint.
Why is the in-between so uncomfortable? Because the immediate effect of insight is often asymmetrical. It invalidates more than it invites admiration. An intellectual gain can irreversibly reshape interpretation, rendering familiar things pointless, unnecessary, or even wrong — without yet offering replacements. When insights linger only in the intellectual realm, their effects on life are often disquieting: frustration, disappointment, perplexity. It is hard to recognize this as progress rather than erosion.
Self-doubt follows: The insight produces more invalidation then appreciation! Is it really an insight or a curse?
It is a curse until it is turned into a blessing.
Something old has died; something new has not yet been born. The insight has taken root intellectually, but its connection to a renewed participation in life — the part that would reconcile the immediate bleakness, the indifference, the bewilderment — has not yet been forged.
"Is the disconnection I fear, in fact, a disconnection between my intellectual realization and participation in life? I think my intellectual realization pulls me away from participation in life, so I feel uncomfortable and might be unconsciously resisting it." —— Me, Dec 4, 2025
What do I do about it?
Perhaps the way out is befriending the in-between.
I Used To Have A Recurring Dream.
I am supposed to find a place, say, a room on the 4th floor. But creepily, there is no 4th floor! I climb one flight of stairs and end up on the 5th. I go down one floor and arrive at the 3rd. Sometimes I can even see the slab of the 4th floor, but there is no staircase leading to it! When I visually track the stairs, they seem to touch the 4th floor, yet when I physically travel along the stairs, I never reach it!!
Sometimes the situation changes to finding a building, say #56. On my left is #55; On my right is #57. Of course, I have checked the opposite side of the street. No parity trick. And no Hogwarts-platform 9-3/4 trick either — don't try to be clever here, you get the idea.
For a long time, I never linked this recurring dream to my ranting about how unbearable it is to be trapped in the in-between. That changed last night, when I surprised myself by recalling the dream and noticing how uncannily precise it is as a metaphor.
I don't have many recurring dreams. I am a poor dream-recaller. Among the sparse collection of dreams that I do remember, repetition is rare. Well — except for the college entrance exam. (I'm periodically teleported back to my final year of high school, with the exam a week away, but I have forgotten everything. Or I'm told, as a college student, that my previous exam was invalidated and I must retake it to secure my place.) That one is understandable. For any Chinese person who has been through the exam, the experience is ingrained deeply enough to echo throughout a lifetime.
Beyond the exam, nothing rivals the in-between in salience or reoccurrence in my dreams.
I've had the floor-finding and building-finding dreams since childhood — long before I ever tasted the "uncanny tunnel", or the "crack" in waking life. The panic and desperation of the in-between were already vividly present in those dreams.
Strikingly, I have had fewer of these dreams in recent years.
Last night, as I was chatting with myself, I noticed that I said "I used to have a recurring dream …" instead of using the present tense. This is indeed true.
Because …… because in recent years …… I have begun to live it in waking life!!
This thought stunned me.
A hostile circumstance suddenly feels inviting.
I am not suggesting anything mystical. What I wrote here is a reinterpretation fabricated on the fly which stitches together my recurring dreams, the reality, and my contemplation.
Despite the fabrication, the urgency to explain why others don't share this problem begins to fall away. Maybe it's a "me-thing". Whether others experience it the same way is secondary.
Maybe I should seize the in-between.
It is my burrow.
My den.
A way of being
Some science
Some art
They all arise in the in-between.
I feel oddly charmed.
Happy New Year! ✨ 🎆
