Thanks for the replies everyone; though they were a little less optimistic than I was hoping for. I certainly can't blame anyone for that though. It's what this disorder does. As you said, Eddy, it's to the point where I cling to my fives and sixes, and I'm happy to get them. I feel like my DP has plateaued. Like, it's pretty much been the same level for years (with somewhat mild variations thrown in from time to time). While this is good in some respects (those acute nines and tens were utterly terrifying), it's a bitter sweet kind of plateau as I feel like I'm just sort of settling in with my new identity - "giving up", as it were. As I've been getting older I'm reflecting on how much this disorder has taken from me...how it's reshaped my life, my dreams, and all my expectations down to something that can be packaged up and shipped out along with all the other unremarkable boxes. I so wistfully remember childhood and youth and all those big dreams I once had, and now I essentially do the same things that you mentioned - avoid stress, maximize pleasure, and try very hard not to think of the crushing reality of what's become of my life. Never mind the whole question of existence as a whole. God help me if I slip down that terrifying slope. I've become someone who loves routine. I love knowing what to expect. Quite a romantic, I know. But part of the problem, really, is that I haven't given up. And I think that makes it worse, to be honest. I wish I could find some solace in resigning myself to this way of life, because I think there is some solace to be had there. If I could somehow avoid this nagging feeling that I'm somehow destined for something great, I could at least take pleasure in going for walks, doing a job well, chipping away at writing novels that don't necessarily have to be some magnum opus. I now deal with two major issues: The DP, which is a constant. And this corollary sensation of missing out on the life I should be experiencing. And that second one is so emotionally painful that I wake up in cold sweats after having yet another dream of running out of time, etc. Sigh. I honestly even wonder that if there were some magical cure that somehow materialized in a lab somewhere, whether I would even be helped by it. A lot of the questions DP has exposed me to still wouldn't be answered, and I feel like it would be too easy to slip down the rabbit hole again.
Anyway, it's always nice to hear from others who feel the same. I've missed this board. Apologies for the late responses, by the way. I was busy pretending to live.
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