# My Story -- A Slightly Different Experience?



## ChangelingJane (Jun 2, 2006)

For awhile now I've thought I had some strange form of Dissociative Identity Disorder. The description never quite fit, though. I've been trying to find something that better matched my experience. About an hour ago I was reading up on dissociation on Wikipedia and came across the link to depersonalization and derealization. It's an _exact_ description of what I've been going through! I will be talking to my psychiatrist (I can't afford a therapist at the moment, unfortunately) about it the next time I see her.

I'm kind of apprehensive about posting my story, because I also have a biological condition that is widely misunderstood and carries an intense negative stigma. However, it is directly related to my dissocation problems.

You see, when I say I have a slightly different experience, it is in that I know what precipitated the anxiety resulting in my condition.

I am a male-to-female transsexual, and knew I was a girl when I was very little. As I was growing up I became increasingly afraid that my female identity would "slip out" as I felt forced more and more to put on a masculine image to keep myself safe from ridicule and physical harm.

Most (but certainly not all) of my fear was imagined. There were events here and there where I was actually hurt emotionally, but I took those moments and, instead of learning to cope with or move on from them, I became so afraid of them happening again that my anxiety spiraled out of control. I became more and more distant from myself as the fear of being hurt again grew and grew.

In middle school, I would get so nervous that I would throw up, pass out, or both. I would tremble and my stomach's acid production would go into overdrive until I felt like I hadn't eaten in a week. It was because I was telling myself _They'll figure you out. One wrong move and they'll know. They'll make fun of you. They'll beat you up. One wrong move._

That fear of "one wrong move" started with my gender identity, and spread out into every aspect of my life. _Any_ mistake, to me, meant *Certain Death*. It was irrational, but it was what I believed, and in some ways still believe to this day.

I didn't believe that the fear was possible to overcome, and it zapped away all my energy. So when I didn't have to be doing something, I would go to sleep. Sometimes it felt like I _had no choice_, because I had no energy left to even keep my eyes open.

I would go to sleep, and when I awoke, that part of me that was panicking would _stay_ asleep. As the years went on, less and less of me would wake up.

On top of my percieved inability to deal with being hurt, my ability to think clearly was diminishing as more and more of me succumbed to panic. I developed the belief that I couldn't do anything right; I saw myself as stupid, forgetful, and incapable. My creativity also dropped. I went from being an honor student earning 4.0s, to just barely graduating high school.

I would have moments where my emotions would come back up, but they were terror-ridden, unpleasant experiences. I would subconsciously use anxiety triggers to keep myself zoned out, because I didn't think it was possible to deal with any of it, and it just plain _hurt too much_.

I didn't know that any of this was going on. I isolated myself from other people. I never received that necessary feedback on my behavior from interacting with others. My parents were divorced, and I lived with my father, who was extremely neglectful. I only had to show up when dinner was ready, if dinner was even made that night. I could get away with total isolation. So, completely unchecked, it got worse and worse. Right before high school started, I went completely numb.

My separation from reality and self became so intense that my thoughts were extremely delusional and out of touch with reality, but I was completely aware of that fact and kept all the "weird" thoughts to myself. But they persisted. And the numbness brought on by the anxiety caused an intense amnesia, leaving me totally unaware of what it felt like to be connected to the world.

I had no idea what was going on, who I was, or even _where_ I was. I knew where I was, logically, but I never felt like I was actually _in_ that place. My past was like a story about somebody else that had been told to me--I could picture the events in my mind, but they had never happened to _me_. Whoever the hell that was.

Eventually, my emotions and connections and memories started resurfacing, after years of therapy, soul-searching, and lucky moments of positive emotional triggers. I remembered who I was, after fifteen years of making even myself believe I actually was the male image I presented to keep myself safe from harm.

I'm learning to "wake up" those parts of me that would panic and go to sleep. Whenever that happens, my body usually aches all over and I become overwhelmed with intense fatigue and seemingly out-of-control emotions. Often times I throw up or pass out, like I did when I was younger. But, more and more, I _exist_. Things feel _real_. And that's a wonderful feeling.

I'm far from being "recovered". I still have many, many escapist habits and bad coping mechanisms to unlearn. I have to find healthier, more effective _emotional skills_ to replace them with. But at least I now know what's going on and what needs to change.

If anybody is interested, I have many posts in my LiveJournal regarding this.

*DISCLAIMER:* _Keep in mind many of these posts also mention things unrelated to DP, so read with that in mind. There may also be "questionable" content, such as swearing or talk about sexuality._

http://changelingjane.livejournal.com/tag/dissociation

Thanks for reading, and I hope I don't get too many flames.


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## jeremy (Apr 28, 2006)

Hi Jamie

Welcome to the forum! I hope you get the support you want/need here 

Jeremy


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## ChangelingJane (Jun 2, 2006)

Thanks


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