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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Hi everyone. I'm newbie to the board. I hope it's okay if I post here. I just feel like telling someone my story.

I first noticed my DP as a child. I would stare at a wall sometimes, and the wall would start to look new and different. Then I look around the rest of my house and noticed it was different than before. I thought this was so fun. I got up to explore and it was like going through a stranger's house.

I had a troubled childhood. I know this is off topic, but I feel some of this may have contributed to my disorder.

I was born to a police officer father and a disabled mother. My earliest memories were those of staying up late with my mother listening to the scanner. She wouldn't let me go to bed because she was afraid. So I stayed with her. I took on the mother role and she took on the daughter role. She used to tell me how my father might die. How much people wanted to murder police officers. I was scared to death.

Eventually my dad retired. During this time my maternal grandmother died. My own mom completely lost it. She would sleep 24/7 and keep me in bed with her 24/7. If I leaved her to go play or even to get something to drink, she would start crying. The only time I could leave was when I got her medicine. Ativan, Valium, blah blah blah. I took these pills out of the container, cut some in half with a razor, got her some water, and gave it all to her. I was 4 during all of this.

Every time I opened my mouth about my grandmother, my mom ran away crying. I felt so bad I never talked about it again.

At school I was teased constantly. I was overweight and more ethnic (1/4 Cherokee) than the other students. So they would torture me. They made fun of my weight until they were tired of it, then they made fun of my heritage. I used to sit by myself all the time and eventually made on good friend. Were still friends today. The school history is too long and too hurtful to go through completely.

When I was 9 a certain aunt of mine got sent to jail. When she got out she had nowhere to go but here. She was a crackhead, plain and simple. She took advantage of my innocence then. She had me going on drug runs, hiding drugs, before I knew what I was doing. Whenever she got high she was extremely abusive to me and my mother. Of course I still took on role of mother to my mother. So a typical day was my mother crying in the bathroom, me trying to comfort and medicate her, and my aunt calling me vulgar names and hitting me. My mother hit me too.

My aunt left, thank god.

A bunch of crap happened after that. My mom beating me, saying she will kill me. Also her illness getting so bad she was eventually restricted to a wheel chair. I also became sexually attractive way before I think I was supposed to, and had way too much attention poured upon me. My mom said it was my fault. We went on food stamps and almost lost everything to the repo man. I got diagnosed with scoliosis and had to wear a back brace at night. During this time I slept in bed with my mom. 12 and sleeping in the bed with my mom. But it was the only way we could sleep.

When I was 13 my mom died. I spent weeks in the hospital and this was the conclusion. This was when DP came back to haunt. But this time it wasn't fun or exciting. It was like being an insane sane person.

I withdrew completely from this world and created a fantasy world in my head. I played many characters in it. But the character always shared some characteristics: blonde hair, thin body, living anywhere but West Virginia, and with a mother. So this was my life, and still it.

I constantly feel like I'm in a dream. I'm above my body looking at myself. This body is not my own. This world is not my own. Only my thoughts are real.

I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and be 5 again. Like my life since then hasn't existed. Like the Wizard of Oz. I want this horrible Odessey to be a result of a dream. Cause this can't be my reality. I feel so seperated from it.

All of my mirrors are covered. If I see myself in the mirror, I have a panic attack. So I simply don't look.

Ever see that movie Fight Club? That's me except I realize the characters in my mind are fake. I know that this is 2004, I am 16 years old, my hair is black, and Bush is president. I could tell you this all the time. I just see no connection between my mind and body.

I believe in an afterlife. Because bodies are useless. At least mine is. I use it to go to school, breath, eat. But none of those things are connected to my mind.

Sometimes I will be writing and start looking at my hand. Except it's not my hand. This was not the hand I've lived with all my life.

I will look at my best friend, and not recognize her. I know who she is, but she doesn't know who I am. She's part of the illusion. It seems like everything is.

So...that's my experience. Part of it was off topic and it's too long and probably stupid lol. But it is my story. I hope everyone who has this is doing good, and I send my love to you all.
 
G

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Discussion Starter · #2 ·
Hi everyone. I'm newbie to the board. I hope it's okay if I post here. I just feel like telling someone my story.

I first noticed my DP as a child. I would stare at a wall sometimes, and the wall would start to look new and different. Then I look around the rest of my house and noticed it was different than before. I thought this was so fun. I got up to explore and it was like going through a stranger's house.

I had a troubled childhood. I know this is off topic, but I feel some of this may have contributed to my disorder.

I was born to a police officer father and a disabled mother. My earliest memories were those of staying up late with my mother listening to the scanner. She wouldn't let me go to bed because she was afraid. So I stayed with her. I took on the mother role and she took on the daughter role. She used to tell me how my father might die. How much people wanted to murder police officers. I was scared to death.

Eventually my dad retired. During this time my maternal grandmother died. My own mom completely lost it. She would sleep 24/7 and keep me in bed with her 24/7. If I leaved her to go play or even to get something to drink, she would start crying. The only time I could leave was when I got her medicine. Ativan, Valium, blah blah blah. I took these pills out of the container, cut some in half with a razor, got her some water, and gave it all to her. I was 4 during all of this.

Every time I opened my mouth about my grandmother, my mom ran away crying. I felt so bad I never talked about it again.

At school I was teased constantly. I was overweight and more ethnic (1/4 Cherokee) than the other students. So they would torture me. They made fun of my weight until they were tired of it, then they made fun of my heritage. I used to sit by myself all the time and eventually made on good friend. Were still friends today. The school history is too long and too hurtful to go through completely.

When I was 9 a certain aunt of mine got sent to jail. When she got out she had nowhere to go but here. She was a crackhead, plain and simple. She took advantage of my innocence then. She had me going on drug runs, hiding drugs, before I knew what I was doing. Whenever she got high she was extremely abusive to me and my mother. Of course I still took on role of mother to my mother. So a typical day was my mother crying in the bathroom, me trying to comfort and medicate her, and my aunt calling me vulgar names and hitting me. My mother hit me too.

My aunt left, thank god.

A bunch of crap happened after that. My mom beating me, saying she will kill me. Also her illness getting so bad she was eventually restricted to a wheel chair. I also became sexually attractive way before I think I was supposed to, and had way too much attention poured upon me. My mom said it was my fault. We went on food stamps and almost lost everything to the repo man. I got diagnosed with scoliosis and had to wear a back brace at night. During this time I slept in bed with my mom. 12 and sleeping in the bed with my mom. But it was the only way we could sleep.

When I was 13 my mom died. I spent weeks in the hospital and this was the conclusion. This was when DP came back to haunt. But this time it wasn't fun or exciting. It was like being an insane sane person.

I withdrew completely from this world and created a fantasy world in my head. I played many characters in it. But the character always shared some characteristics: blonde hair, thin body, living anywhere but West Virginia, and with a mother. So this was my life, and still it.

I constantly feel like I'm in a dream. I'm above my body looking at myself. This body is not my own. This world is not my own. Only my thoughts are real.

I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and be 5 again. Like my life since then hasn't existed. Like the Wizard of Oz. I want this horrible Odessey to be a result of a dream. Cause this can't be my reality. I feel so seperated from it.

All of my mirrors are covered. If I see myself in the mirror, I have a panic attack. So I simply don't look.

Ever see that movie Fight Club? That's me except I realize the characters in my mind are fake. I know that this is 2004, I am 16 years old, my hair is black, and Bush is president. I could tell you this all the time. I just see no connection between my mind and body.

I believe in an afterlife. Because bodies are useless. At least mine is. I use it to go to school, breath, eat. But none of those things are connected to my mind.

Sometimes I will be writing and start looking at my hand. Except it's not my hand. This was not the hand I've lived with all my life.

I will look at my best friend, and not recognize her. I know who she is, but she doesn't know who I am. She's part of the illusion. It seems like everything is.

So...that's my experience. Part of it was off topic and it's too long and probably stupid lol. But it is my story. I hope everyone who has this is doing good, and I send my love to you all.
 
G

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
I am sorry you've had so much suffering in your life.
Hopefully your environment is better now.
I think your description of your life is very good, also how you explain the unreality, I was living your life while reading your story.
Post on the board and put down what you think, that helps I guess.
My best, I
 
G

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Discussion Starter · #4 ·
I am sorry you've had so much suffering in your life.
Hopefully your environment is better now.
I think your description of your life is very good, also how you explain the unreality, I was living your life while reading your story.
Post on the board and put down what you think, that helps I guess.
My best, I
 
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