Alli's Story: Putting The Pieces Back Together
*Trigger warning: mentions drug use
I would like to start by saying to anyone feeling incredibly hopeless about their DPDR experience: after five years with this condition, I am better. By that, I mean - I am able to experience clarity, perspective, space, ease, a sense of self, and, crucially… connection with myself and others. Not all the time, and not always fully, but the fact it is possible is enough. Suffice it to say: Feeling better is possible. There are tools and techniques. There is hope.
The fact you are here on Unreal’s website, reading this, means you’re in the right place! Support is available <3
I say all this because at the start of my journey with DPDR five years ago I felt for sure that ‘better’ was not possible.
That’s not to say it’s been easy for me! Quite the opposite. Saying it’s been hard is an understatement. I would go as far as to say experiencing DPDR shattered everything I knew to be certain about myself, the world, and reality into a million pieces, and recovery for me at the moment is slowly putting those pieces back together.
I’d like to give a brief summary of the events that lead to my DPDR, because I believe that the accumulation of distress and ill mental health had a part to play in "setting the scene" for DPDR, and I think that if I hadn't been in such a dark place, it may not have happened like that.
So, over the course of a year, I broke up with a long term partner I’d been living with, got fired from my job, got Glandular Fever which left me very unwell and bed bound for months, and while that was still going on, one of my very close friends died very suddenly at the too young age of 28. The impact of the year and the isolation of grief turned to depression over the next 6 months and I was finding things very difficult day to day. However, it was a psychoactive drug I took at a party that was the catalyst for my DPDR. Not to say this drug ‘did’ this, but my brain’s response to the overwhelm and fright of the drug’s effect activated DPDR. I think that's a really important distinction to make.
I won’t go into detail about the symptoms I experienced (and still experience) or how terrifying it all was at the beginning, as frankly, those kinds of things can be triggering - not just for other people who experience DPDR, but for me too. Moreover, I found focusing on symptoms to be counterproductive. What I do think is helpful and would like to share is what I believe has helped me feel better, with the hopes of giving others who also experience DPDR some ideas/inspiration and hope about recovery - whatever that looks like to you.
Some things that helped me:
I spent a really long time stuck on “why is this happening to me?”, so learning and then truly accepting that DPDR can be a trauma response - or subconscious protective mechanism my brain activates when things get too much - alleviated a lot of worry and created space for me to be curious about it, rather than push back against it. Now, when I notice symptoms, my first reaction is "Oh! Interestinggggg,…that makes total sense because I'm in a super busy shopping centre," or, "Well, obviously this is happening because I have a meeting in an hour that I haven't prepared for" etc, and just doing that reduces its impact and shifts it quicker for me.
When I started reading and hearing about trauma and how it affects the nervous system, everything clicked. I read books and books and books, and slowly worked through breathing / movement / writing exercises at my own pace - it’s important to note that sometimes I was pushing too quick for my nervous system so while I tried to take one big step forward, it would often take me three steps backwards!!
Surrendering to doing less. Just being. It took me a while to work out I needed to create space, because it goes against everything our culture tells us we should be doing. I learnt to be okay with saying no to things if they felt overwhelming, accepting that people were going to feel let down, or simply disappear from my life, and that was okay. I stopped drinking alcohol and going to parties, so I had to find other ways to connect with my friends in ways that felt safe. There was even a whole period of time where people came to my house to do jigsaw puzzles, and that was pretty much the only way we interacted - and that’s fine!!!
Talk therapy is something I’d recommend to everyone, not just people who experience DPDR! Just letting out all the worries such as “I’m going to feel like this forever,” “I’m broken,” “People think I’m boring and weird now”, hearing them back, sitting with them, and slowly unpicking them all, was sometimes incredibly profound. It helped me recognise my thought patterns, catch those thoughts in the moment, and change my focus, meaning I had less anxiety contributing to the triggering of the symptoms. That ol' classic feedback loop!
Somatic movement was absolutely key for me - breathing, moving, connecting with my body regularly as best I could and in short intervals. Meditation. Just creating a space to tune in to my body. It made me better at realising when I was having good days and could perhaps push a little further, or when I was having bad days and needed to accept it was not the best day, rest, and go easy on myself.
One of the most important ones was - once I finally knew and accepted what was happening, I told all my close friends about DPDR, and then when we were together I’d tell them in the moment if I was having an episode or was feeling disconnected. Simply announcing it out loud and having someone say, “It’s okay,” “What do you need?” or “How can I help?” was pivotal. It totally quelled the worry about what people thought of me, and it was like shining a light on the monster in the dark - seeing it head on made it way less frightening and gave it way less power. It made me feel more in control, supported and connected.
And that’s it really.
I'm still on my journey, but having seen improvements over the years, I know that slowly, gradually, I'm getting there.
Slow down. Breathe. Be curious.
Alli. x