# My crazy life and story with DPD



## Phand (Apr 26, 2012)

There's not really a place to begin, honestly. I'd also really like to keep this short and go to bed soon, so we'll see how that turns out.









Well, I'm 19 years old, and am a sophomore at a university in Wisconsin. I've suffered from DPD for literally as long as I can remember. That's right...I've had it since I was able to grasp what reality even was. 
I've had an extremely...eventful life. I know precisely what caused my DPD, and although I am actually making progress in accepting the situation, the DPD just seems to be getting worse for me.

*What does my DPD feel like?*
Although chronic for me, it's drifted amongst levels of severity. The worst I can remember was when I was a sophomore in high school. I was severely struggling with depression at this time. I remember being on the city bus going home from school, and feeling horridly empty inside. Everything and everyone around me, very literally, felt unreal. Like I was in a forever-lasting, morbidly depressing dream. There's this very deep feeling of nobody else really existing. What's really scary is when I look into the mirror..really look into it..there's an extreme disconnection with the figure I see looking back at me. I mean, I recognize her, but..I don't feel like I belong to it. I don't feel like I'm the one in control of the person looking back at me.
DPD has caused me SO many issues in life, seriously. Anywhere from difficulties in parallel parking because of my terrible depth/distance perception, to issues stemming from the disconnection I feel for those I care about. I will sometimes tell my friends things meant with only the best intentions, and they end up very, very, upset because they take it the wrong way, or I just can't really understand that someone may be hurt by what I say. Experiencing such a disconnection has led me to almost gloss over the fact that what I do or say has any real effect on the world...beyond this plasticy, fake mess I seem to be living in.
Lately, I've been paying more attention to my DPD and have noticed a disconnection from me (for all you folks that believe in souls, I'unno, but I definitely feel that my DPD has forced me to), vs my thoughts and words spoken.
In conversations, I've noticed myself saying things that almost don't even seem to be from..me. I've often caught myself thinking thoughts that are almost forced..that aren't..mine.
It's hard to explain, but nonetheless a scary experience.

* What events have led to my development of DPD? *
As a child, I was very severely physically and emotionally abused by my only parent, my only family I knew, my mother. My father passed away when I was about 4, I don't remember him. Later in childhood, I came to realize that my mother had lied to me about who my father is...not the man she married. I still haven't confronted her about this.
From the death of my 'father,' we lived at poverty level. The only white folks in what many would deem as the 'ghetto.' She had pretty much no education, a high school dropout. With financial issues and a kid with a plethora of issues (adhd, ocd, etc), I reckon that she just couldn't handle it. The physical abuse reached its peak from age 8-12. The memories are disturbing, to say the least. Head smashed repeatedly into the ground, rags stuffed down throat until blood was choked up, suffocation. 
One big memory I have is the lice check at my school in 4th grade. I was asked why I had so many large bruises on my head. I stuttered, and responded that I just fell down a lot.
It was never further questioned.
What really terrifies me is the fact that before age 8, I literally have almost no memory. There was one apartment we lived in that I don't even have any memory of, around age 6.
Around the age of 13, I was growing in size and strength, and began to develop the ability to protect myself. This escalated into uncontrollable anger issues toward my mother. Really, if she said the slightest thing that would urk me, I couldn't control myself. I snapped. The whole situation went into reverse, and suddenly the mass weight of fault was on my shoulders. I was in anger management therapy with a private therapist and at school. One time, my mom called this organization for abuse that literally came to our house and discussed MY problems with MY abusive behaviors toward my mother. My mom even put on a show about how maybe, just maybe, things would be better now.
One of the worst memories I have is when my mom took me to this one social work building for further help with my anger issues. Still, to this day, I don't really even know what it was. I remember my mom being extremely angry, and how this one lady was trying to converse with me, but my mom kept screaming about how terrible of a child I was.
When I was finally admitted, I was placed into this small room with this other woman. I was interviewed, questions I don't remember. I answered them all, until she asked one concerning whether or not my mom had anger issues of her own. I couldn't answer. The woman grabbed my arm very tightly and yanked me very hard and screamed at me to answer. It was literally physically painful.
I was horrified. 
I lied.

And private therapy...it had almost absolutely nothing to do with helping me with my anger. The only sessions I really remember involve my mom and techniques with restraining me, physically.

But the utmost disturbing memory for me...you may skip if you wish. It's pretty morbid.
It was during one of my beatings, around age 9. This was one of the more severe ones. I remember my head being smashed into our wooden floors, again...again. I was laying, literally drenched in my own sweat, tears, and blood. When she finally stopped and yelled at me to go upstairs to my room, I was in a state of pure hysteria, as I usually was. I lay there, sobbing hysterically, body trembling. I crawled to the stairs on all fours, and in a similar manner attempted to climb pathetically up the stairs. She screamed from behind, kicking me, telling me to hurry up and go to my room.
I could've made it.
I could've damn well made it if I truly wanted to.
But I didn't.
She pulled me down the length of the stairs and beat me again.
Not too long ago, I realized why exactly I didn't try harder to get away. This is a disturbing fact for me. 
It all comes down to the fact that she, well..she's my mother. The only affection I could get, the only sense of touch, was from her physical abuse. 
There have been studied about criminals in high security prison settings that will deliberately disobey just to get beaten. It's a terribly sad reality to face.

My whole childhood I was abused by the only family member I had in my life and then forced into belief that it was my fault, along with dealing with poverty. I was always that one 'white kid.' I was made fun of constantly, faced racism for a lot of my life. It makes sense that my mind simply couldn't take it.

* Have I ever been 'cured' from DPD, or not experienced it? *
Actually, yes.
I'm not going to tell the whole story, but I'll quickly sum it up.
When I was 15, and I know this is going to be rather hard to believe, but I fell very deeply in love with a man. Everything in myself that I saw separated me from everyone else I saw in him. He saw himself the same, the world the same, his point in the world the same. And his presence alone made me more me than I had ever been..without effort. The attraction was...beyond words. I felt an intense emotional reaction from being in his presence, and especially when I looked into his eyes. Again, beyond words. Nothing could compare to the surge of warmth I'd feel every time I saw him there, every time he talked to me, or every time I heard his name. At the same time as this though, I felt calm around him...very serene, and peaceful. 
And most importantly, I felt real.
During the year I knew him, my DPD went COMPLETELY away. The inexplicable connection I felt to him was like no other. He made me feel ALIVE. The world, put simply, was freakin' beautiful. Colours were more vivid, concepts and ideas more lucid. I was forced to finally deal with myself, and I didn't like a lot of what I saw, but at the same time, I began to embrace the inner me that seemed to separate myself so much from everyone else...there was finally another.
And no, we never dated.
He was a married man.
After the year ended, he moved. I entered the most disturbing, deep depression I ever had in my life. My DPD escalated about 10x. About half a year later, things sort of simmered down and the DPD wasn't nearly as bad. I still felt alive.
Now, it has completely come back. It took at least a year and a half after he left for that to occur, though.
To this day, I still have feelings for him. I'm 19.

So yup, that's a large chunk of my personal story. Hope you guys found it interesting, and your comments are very much appreciated.
I'm honestly looking for help...my DPD is pretty bad as of now, and I'm not really sure what to do about it. I don't have insurance, so any form of therapy is pretty much not an option.
Thanks guys for reading. Time for bed.


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## insaticiable (Feb 23, 2010)

WOW...just wow. Unbelievable the amount of torture and pain someone else can cause us...much less such an important figure as someone's mom. My heart goes out to you.

Reading through your past experiences reminded me of a book I read in middle school called ''A Child Called It.'' It is pretty disturbing, but I feel that you will be able to resonate with many of the author's struggles with physical/emotional abuse.

I think Huggy Bear brought up a good suggestion-to seek a counselor at your university, if one exists, and really tell them EVERYTHING, as clearly and descriptive as this post.

I really hope you find the strength and endurance inside of you to surpass these awful times, and emerge on the other side as a much stronger and resilient person, emotionally.

Best of luck to you.


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## Phand (Apr 26, 2012)

Thanks guys. Your responses mean a lot to me








My school does have free counseling, though I'm a bit afraid to go to it. The stuff I've told you guys I haven't told anyone, and I'm not really the type who likes talking about things I've gone through.


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## DP boy (Mar 20, 2012)

falling in love helps


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## Existential (Apr 28, 2012)

I have found this book to be useful:
Overcoming Depersonalization Disorder: A Mindfulness and Acceptance Guide to Conquering Feelings of Numbness and Unreality by Fugen Neziroglu, Katharine Donnelly and Daphne Simeon (Paperback - Jun 3, 2010)

What you said, " will sometimes tell my friends things meant with only the best intentions, and they end up very, very, upset because they take it the wrong way, or I just can't really understand that someone may be hurt by what I say." really resonates with me. This happens to me all the time...I say things as a matter of fact...while the people in my life expect an emotional response. For example, someone says, "What if I have brain tumor?" My response might be..."well, you will go quickly"....Since there is a disconnect with my emotions, I only realize later how hurtful my comment was.....I am like Mr. Spock living with other beings who need emotional validation.... I have now realized that I need to face my emotional pain rather than cover it up with reason and logic....thanks for sharing your story. I am sorry for the terrible suffering you have endured.


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## noname (Sep 23, 2008)

oh shit what a story... Even outside DP its art lol...



> When I was 15, and I know this is going to be rather hard to believe, but I fell very deeply in love with a man. Everything in myself that I saw separated me from everyone else I saw in him. He saw himself the same, the world the same, his point in the world the same. And his presence alone made me more me than I had ever been..without effort. The attraction was...beyond words. I felt an intense emotional reaction from being in his presence, and especially when I looked into his eyes. Again, beyond words. Nothing could compare to the surge of warmth I'd feel every time I saw him there, every time he talked to me, or every time I heard his name. At the same time as this though, I felt calm around him...very serene, and peaceful.


keep that into your memory, event like that outside all illness are like rare diamond in a life


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## Phand (Apr 26, 2012)

Wow, thanks so much guys for your responses! Really, they mean everything to me.

@DP Boy - Yeah, it does. In fact, falling in love completely changed my life..

@Existential - Wow. You have no idea how much I connected to what you just said. It's so true! For example, a month or two ago I was hanging out with my best friend and another friend in his room. My best friend was messing around on my expensive and very sentimentally valuable longboard, and accidentally snapped it in half.
There was silence in the room, and I was just like, "what happened? did you break my board?" And of course he immediately started apologizing...and everything was so awkward because well, I didn't really feel anything. After the fact it was so awkward and quiet that I literally almost started laughing at the disconnect between how I felt in the moment and the moment itself.
The biggest problem I run into though concerns my emotional disconnection with people. If I notice something about an individual, a concern I have or whatever that may actually be really personal and sensitive to them, I'll tell or ask them about it anyway. For example, my good friend was complaining about how he wished he was taller, and had a deeper voice, etc, etc. And so I asked him bluntly why he was so freakin' obsessed with being more masculine, because I just didn't see the point.
He got so offended..
Also when people tell me their problems, I don't know how to respond properly, like you expressed. I have a pretty neutral, almost apathetic reaction, which in retrospect I feel terrible for. At the same time as this however, I consider myself to be an incredibly empathic person and really do have a passion for helping people, and literally _seeing_ people hurt just kills me inside. But I've had so many people, including my very own mother, tell me that I'm full of myself and see myself as better than other people. That really hurts..just the fact that my disorder has caused me to come off that way to people. As being something that I'm not, you know?

@noname - Thanks for your comment. And yeah, I always will. I'm working now on looking back to that memory as something positive, something that simply happened wherein which circumstances have now changed, not as something now missing in my life.

@Huggy Bear - I actually called for counseling today. Unfortunately, they're not taking any more patients unless you're staying during the summer. So, I suppose I'll just do it next semester. I really will.
And thanks! I used to want to be a writer...hell, I still do. I'd like to write a book or two someday







Also, I don't think where you grew up should be the sole determiner of who you are as a person. It affects you, yes, but there's a hell of a lot more to a person than that.


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