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Let me start by saying I know the feeling. This guy is bullshiy for saying that he has actually had depersonalization and lived to see a day without the demon. I don't blame you for thinking that about me (I thought that about every 'cured' story). But for those of you that need a glimmer of hope and want to read a quick story about someone that walked through a 2 year period of having this demon of a disease in there life, read on.

Side note: my symptoms were not as strong this past year as they were the first, but I have finally reached a point where I believe that I am finally out of the hell hole that almost drove me to suicide. I have a personal fear of this site as it nearly drove me crazy with all of the "10 years of Dp" stories. But, I have a personal love for all of you and a desire for you to hope and look forward to a day without Dp. That being said, I have just now worked up the courage to come back and tell my story to hopefully help if not save a life.

Symptoms during my Dp:
- feeling as if the world isn't real, or atleast I wasn't.
- feeling like I was outside my body looking in
- world looked 2-d
- anxiety to a high level
- nightmares while awake
- "transporting"
- total lack of emotions (couldn't cry even though I wanted to)
- despair and paranoia about never getting out of Dp
- constant 24/7 focus on Dp
- feeling like losing my mind

Well any way, back to my story. In summer of 14, I started hanging around the "wrong crowd" and ended up smoking a vape stick that unknowingly had synthetic marajuana (cloud9 for those of you that know the drug). I, thinking that it was regular vape, smoked it like I would a cig instead of taking what you are supposed to for cloud 9, one hit.. Next thing I know, I am completely freaking out with hallucinations. Things that were only happening once were happening 7 times in my mind (I walked and went to the bathroom once and in my head I was asking myself why I continue to repeat this action, My mom tells me to calm down and I ask her why she told me to calm down 10 times). I ended up on my couch in a full sweat convulsing like I had a seizure but knew I wasn't having a seizure. I ended up in the hospital that day and the doctor (who was making faces at me... Not really) doesn't read anything in my blood because synthetics don't show up on a typical blood test. I end up staying there a few hours, went home and felt better as if nothing had happened,

Sometime in the following couple days I had went to play wallyball with a few friends of mine. The spinning around while looking at white walls did something to me. I had a dizzy feeling that couldn't be explained and it was like I couldn't see right, (the only people that can understand the problem with my sight are people that have experienced this symptom of Dp). This night was when my what would be two year battle with Dp began.

I came home and went to sleep. Something funny is just going on, maybe it was the remainder of the drug leaving my body. That night was when the nightmares began. I call them nightmares, but I was awake, and there was no subject to them. It was just fear and paranoia about seemingly nothing as I lie there. Wake up the next morning feel just as strange, but a new symptom has shown. I'd do an action, know that I did it, but I couldn't remember the process of doing it. Most of the time it happened while I was walking. I felt like I was teleporting from one place to the other. In addition to this, I was feeling all of the other common signs of Dp ( the world isn't real, everything looks 2d, I feel like the world is going on around me but I'm not in it, I am a stranger in my own body, I am not real, I am losing my mind and soon I'll be in the looney bin, I am losing my life because time is passing me by, etc.). This scared me to death, I'm actually feeling high anxiety typing this. I sought comfort from my mom and became a 5-year old again. If I was more than 10 steps away from her, my anxiety got that much worst. It came to the point where I would wake up in the night and need her to come in my room because I had anxiety to a level that made me question if I was actually in hell.

A couple weeks into these symptoms (it could no longer be the drug in my system.) I began googling my symptoms. When I came across Dp I literally cried. I haven't lost my mind. Other people experience this and it has a name. I am living in real life (even though it didn't feel like it).

Sometime, probably after the previous paragraph and before the next ( I can't exactly remember) the most scary symptom Experienced arose. I couldn't feel any emotion besides fear, dread, and anxiety. Literally, I would search for stories that would make me cry because I yearned to cry. But these didn't help either. It was like a piece of me was gone. The personal piece, the piece that allowed me to feel emotion. And this was hard because I was practically raising my 5 year old brother and he is my world, but I thought I'd lose my personal connection with him. That's why I believe there is a difference between depression and sadness. I was depressed to all ends, but couldn't feel sadness, I couldn't cry. Once in my whole battle with Dp I cried. It was when I heard a Christian song ( Matthew west's east to west) and broke completely down, only lasted about a minute though.

About a month after symptoms and reading all of the stories that told me I wouldn't get better, I decided that I needed to take some medication (note: in addition to the initial trip to the ER, I had been two other times because it got so bad that my detests ion and anxiety were through the roof and I needed to find a physician with answers) I finally started taking Xanax. It took care of a lot of the anxiety but not much of the symptoms causing the anxiety. I continued taking 1-2 a day for a couple months hoping that things would pass.

Come November, I had been through the initial few weeks without meds and a few months with Xanax and the symptoms were still as strong. So, I decided to see a psychologist at the same time. I only saw him a few times as I determined that talking to someone wasn't going to help because I was already using my mom as my psychologist (she had majored in psych). I did however get introduced to a psychiatrist from my psychologist. She knew what I was going through and began to prescribe to me the Xanax I was already taking, an antidepressant, and an anti-psychotic (I never took).

After a few months of this medication treatment, things were starting to look a little up. I'd have days as bad as before (to the point of excruciating depression), but also days where I could finally get Dp off of my mind for a few hours at a time (such a relief because one of the worst symptoms is needing to think about it 24-7, it follows you to bed and is there when you wake up.) I continued to take the medication over the next summer and noticed that more good days would come, and even had a day where I only thought about it once or twice.

That's when I decided to take my life back. Things were starting to feel more positive. I didn't think I would ever get completely rid of it, but it became more of a back burner thing. I was thinking about the symptoms less and less, and it didn't seem as hard to live life. I decided that I didn't want to spend my whole life on medications, so I was going to cut them out and find a way to deal with Dp without them. At first this seemed like a terrible decision. Things got dramatically worse. I was set back to almost the level of the first couple months(suicidal thoughts came back). I couldn't get back on meds now though, because the AD takes 14 days to get into your body and a skipped dose= you're screwed. It wasnt until a couple months later when I realized that it actually was a smart idea to get off of medication. There was a small but steady decrease in how often I thought of Dp. And not needing to stop and think about my medication helped me to increase the time Windows between thinking about it.

That brings me to today. Sure there is about a 7 months In between my last paragraph and now. But that was the time in which my Dp was gradually decreasing, even though there were a couple setbacks during that time. I know feel completely like myself. What that means, I'm not completely sure. 2 years of Dp and the gradual decline of it have made it to where I can't tell you a distinct difference between how real life feels now and how real it felt in the thickness of it. I think that there are still a few things lingering, but I can't put a finger on what they are. However, I am completely okay with that. The most important thing is that I feel like a normal person now ( maybe not the person before the onset, but anybody would change dramatically from age 19-21) and this has been the first time in probably a month that I have even thought about Dp. Honestly, it feels like this demon is far behind me in the rear view mirror.

If this inspires you. I have a few things to tell you. You will make it out alive!!! It will take time, and it is gradual. Never give up hope. Stay close to family and friends and connect with them personally even if it feels like you can't. And if you are religious, put your hope in whatever higher being you believe in, but if it takes a while to heal don't lose your faith (I made this mistake and am currently trying to regain my faith). I love everyone going through this because I share something with you that 99% of people will never understand... Stay strong!

If you have any questions regarding my story, or need someone to trade emails with, by all means email me at [email protected]
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