Christine’s Story: A Shift in Focus – Living with DR

For the last eleven and a half years (and yes, I have the exact number of days documented), I’ve experienced derealization (DR). The initial symptoms presented during an intense mental health crisis. At first, it was hard to differentiate whether my panic was causing my derealization or if my derealization was causing my panic. Regardless, it was an endless cycle. It had settled in, and I had no reprieve. It was a 24/7 experience that I was unable to describe without appearing certifiably insane. At that time, I had little to no direction on how or where to find a fix. 

That first year, I was just surviving. I was in a state of constant fear. I had seen every specialist, with each referring me to the next. There were no abnormal findings, despite my entire existence feeling completely abnormal. I credit my cognitive behavior therapist with saving my life. Having experienced it himself, he could relate, and it was validating to finally have someone who could understand. 

There were many years I spent trying to fight my DR. I was desperate for a cure and spent the majority of my time investigating. I’d pore over books, research, and personal accounts of people who had found their way out. There had to be a tip or trick that I could incorporate. I tried it all. Supplements, fad diets, eastern medicine, western medicine. Each failed attempt only added to my anxiety, as evidence that I may never be released. 

It wasn’t until about two years ago that I finally had a revelation. Maybe my DR had a message that I wasn’t hearing. It wasn’t trying to kill me. It wasn’t something to escape. It was there for a reason. Trying to protect me. Personally, I would have preferred a gentler attempt, but the caveman brain is real, and this was a prime example. 

As I tapped into my DR as a tool instead of a curse, my life began to shift. Healing required my acceptance. I couldn’t ignore my DR. I had to learn to release the fear that I associated with it. I started to use my DR as a meter. Because I tend to recognize my DR before I notice what it is in my environment that is causing an anxiety flare, it does serve me. I’ll pause, recognize the moment, and do my best to find a way to turn the energy down before it gets out of hand. 

I don’t know that my DR will ever go away. It’s not something that I can unsee. Ultimately, its goal is to scoop me up and take me out of a world that feels dangerous. Finding a way to accept that can be challenging, but I’ve found that the more I let it be, the more it tends to blend into my surroundings. I notice it less. I can’t say that it’s always easy, but with every struggle I face, it gives me an opportunity to relate to someone who’s been through something similar. Together we find strength. What an unexpected gift. 

Unreal.