I'm Not MeI've had DP for as long as I can remember. I don't say this to exaggerate, I'm serious. I very first, clear memory was when I was about 5 years old, maybe younger. I was in the bedroom of our tiny apartment and I questioned how humans came to existence? Who created us? Why do we exist? Why do I exist? Honestly, they may seem like the silly questions any other child would ask. But I never actually asked anyone these questions, I kept to myself.
As I grew older, the DP just got worse and worse. I came to a point of extreme depression before starting high school and thought suicide was my best way out of this torture. This curse. Obviously, I didn't kill myself, but everyday is a struggle against that part of my mind saying, "It's the best way out, just do it. You have the pills, you have knife, you have alcohol, etc." I stopped trusting myself, I'm afraid of what I'll do next, I feel like I'm losing control of everything! My own mind, my actions! Like someone switched my mind off, but left my body on auto-pilot.
The DP is terrible. I wish this upon no one, not even the most evil person in the known universe! I would rather lose my leg than have this. I would rather have cancer. Just the thought of facing another day with this scares me. The fact that every other person looks like they were just pasted into the world. All the people in the street, the signs, the sky, the clouds, the rain, EVERYTHING feels unreal. Broken from reality. I'm living in a fractured world, I used to think my glasses made me feel weird like this. But they do nothing for it, they don't make it worse nor better. Frankly, there are no triggers for my DP. Few things do make it worse. Sleeping very little seems to be the only thing that does make it worse.
I tell my closest friend that I don't expect myself to live past 30. I know I won't die of natural death. I know I'll never live a normal life or have a single normal day in my life. This is what it's like to be dead.