Depersonalization - Tumblr Posts
i’m actually SO mad i think i deleted my post instead of posting it 😭😭😭
i had an anon ask what i did when questioning if i’m a system since they believe they might be. i’m so sorry for accidentally deleting your ask, i hope you see this!
basically i knew from therapy that i had some “identity fragmenting” due to trauma-caused dissociation (even though i kept trying to insist i wasn’t plural 😭) i knew i wasn’t a full-fledged system like my friends with DID, but things weren’t like how they were before. all i had for my google searches was then “trauma dissociation identity fragmenting help” 😭
then i found pluralpedia and looked through a bunch of random pages/terms until i found median and i was like GUYS!! THEY WROTE THIS ABOUT US!!!!
from there i had a better keyword for research. obviously don’t use tumblr as a dsm-5 and take everything online with a grain of salt, but hearing experiences and advice from others really helped. this is something more specific to me but i also researched the theory of structural dissociation to help me better understand things:
https://www.nataliarachel.com/trauma/trauma-and-fragmentation#:~:text=When%20a%20person%20experiences%20severe,space%20for%20expression%20is%20provided.
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4579498/#:~:text=Patients%20with%20structural%20dissociation%20of,concepts%20of%20self%20and%20relationships.
as for personal experience, i can’t share too much of that but i was very generously given advice/experience similar to mine here!:
i know this stuff can be really scary and overwhelming, take things as slow as you need to! it’s not a race and everyone’s experience really is different. it was super brave and cool of you to submit an ask, and i wish you luck in figuring things out. take care!!
Sorry it’s so long, I just wanted to post this.
Feeling trapped outside your own body, on the outside looking in, is not how most 10-15 year olds want to spend every waking moment. It’s called depersonalization. A form of anxiety defined as the mind being disconnected from the body. Feeling like a shell of the person you used to be, just functioning, not living. Ever heard of an existential crisis? If not, it’s basically when you question life, you feel disconnected and alone. You could be with hundreds of people and still feel alone. My first experience with anxiety was too long ago to be memorable. The most memorable attack was at a 4-H meeting, doing what I love, and yet something came over me. I was asked to practice showmanship in front of one of my club co-leaders. I said not yet, and I was told I had to. Immediately I broke into tears, I was confused because I had never done that before, and I couldn’t stop myself. I sat in a stall, on a hay bale until I had somehow calmed myself down. I was nervous, but for no reason, I was never nervous like that before, and why over showmanship, of all things. But that was just a normal panic attack, like the ones I had for a month straight, where I would come home and just cry for hours. Anxious about school, friends, or how no matter how many people and companions I surrounded myself with, I still didn’t feel like myself. I felt alone.
My bed underneath me, a smooth, cold book in my hands, the quiet bass of my music. And suddenly I’m not longer processing the words on the page, I’m not listening to the music, or the birds. I only hear my breath quicken and my heart racing. Feeling lightheaded, I grab my face in an attempt to steady my breathing- how that helps I’m not sure, just an instinct- and feel my face soaked. When did I start crying? I look at the clock, it’s 3:01, and look at my book sprawled on my bed. I try to pick it up, only to find that I can’t move. Telling my muscles to move is like trying to yell at someone through a soundproof wall- impossible. I begin to wonder why me? Why now? Why? What did I do? What can I do? I see my bed, my room, everything normally, but my hands and legs seem as if they are in water, as if I’m looking through a fisheye lense. Not my body, but it is. It’s my body, but it seems other worldly. Then I think about how this has happened before, but not as bad, and how I will never get better, and I begin to shake. It feels like time is racing past me, leaving me in it’s memories as the girl who couldn’t. I stay still while time passes me by, ignore my mind’s pleas of help, and my senses focus back in. A new song, a car driving by, my steady breath, and my cat in the middle of a meow. Turning to the clock, my eyes focus on it: 4:06. An hour and 5 minutes of me trying to calm down. Trying to snap out of this, by far the worst, episode.
I remember watching a video by my then favorite youtuber, who talked about his anxiety, describing it. I knew exactly what he meant: I lived it. He explained what it was called, and told a similar story to mine. He was in the shower, and broke out of his episode only to find himself crying on his mom’s bed, the shower still running. He had blacked out. Which is exactly what happened to me. Blacking out, a feeling of being in the wrong body, etc. And that was just the beginning. Ever since watching that video, I felt more comfortable with my attacks. Except that didn’t make them any better. It only told me what I didn’t want to hear.
There was something wrong with me. No one wants to think something is wrong with them. But at least I knew what it was. And along with depersonalisation, there’s another thing called derealisation. Both of these disorders make it feel like you’re living in a dream. Or maybe more like a nightmare. Derealisation is described as the alteration of the outside world, so much that it seems unreal. In other words, derealisation makes the world seem unreal, while depersonalisation separates you from your mind all together. Often found together, these two make a deadly pair (not literally- I hope). It’s hard to tell them apart at times, but either way, it’s not fun. Now enough with the pity party. Both of these things have made me more appreciative about life. I’m not sure why, or how, but somehow, they changed my perspective. With these attacks, I find that I have a new perspective to look from. You know that feeling when you realise that you can do anything, like really, anything, and you don’t, so you wonder what holds you back? That is how I feel everytime I get an attack. Like if I really wanted to, I could just scream as loud as I could, but I don’t, why? I have no reason, it also reminds me that I could do those things, but I want to live the best possible life I could, and some things I think about doing would definitely affect that vision. I’ll always remember this stage in my life, but I don’t dread doing certain things anymore, I don’t give myself a panic attack waiting for another to hit. At times I will be left with an attack for months, it comes, but never goes. I’ve been dealing with one from two months ago still. I kind of respect what happens, and I allow it to make me a stronger person.
Wow, that was a lot of mushy feels. Way more than I expected. I was actually hesitant to even turn this in as my narrative because I felt like I was being too vulnerable, but then I realised that there’s no harm in sharing this, because it just shows, or at least gives me the idea that I’m “strong” enough to share this. I feel like I’m saying strong too much though. Thank you for taking your time to read this, and don’t worry, if it’s super touchy, I cried while writing it so..
(p.s. this was my english narrative, so that explains the last paragraph
Depersonalization is just brutal. It leaves you feeling empty, confused and hurt. It takes you in circles over and over again. One minute you swear you’re getting better, you feel like you’re starting to connect with the world and yourself again. Then, the next minute you’re back to feeling distressed and disconnected. It’s like you never know what to believe or trust. Because no matter what you do, none of it truly changes anything .. you’ll always be stuck in this loop 😭 I’m just so tired of being this way..
hello,
'our' name is Chance. our sign off on various blogs has been ✨️🦔, or ⭐️🦔. for now, it's just me, Joey. whether or not there are others, i don't know. i am considering the possibility of having a dissociative disorder, possibly a type of OSDD.
i am looking for advice from people with OSDD or DPDR. please be kind. i will be kind back.
have been on tumblr for over 3 years. started this blog august 13th of 2024.
thank you.
edit!!! Sept 2 2024
haiiii Joey here I take that back all if that above was chance's doing. lol. not that I don't remember typing that (we don't get amnesia) (i don't think) (lol) but I wouldn't really put it like that anymore so. my turn
heyyyyy we're chance and I'm Joey :3 questioning system, looking for friends and people to chat with and a place to discuss all of this :3 I also really like sonic the hedgehog, shadow the hedgehog, mettaton (specifically him, not really undertale as a whole anymore) :3 I also go by Mikey and Jo and Milez!!! whatever you want I don't care if you only use one!!!! thanks!!!!
even looking back at all my memories, i can only see them through what i have called for many years, since childhood, a 'camera.'
if you've ever done 3d animation, you will understand exactly - it's a camera, that i feel float around my body. i can't see other cameras through my own, but i feel as if, most people's cameras are tethered to their heads, to view the world through their eyes.
i'd like to know if this is relatable to anybody with a dissociative disorder, with or without a system of personalities.
thank you, ⭐️🦔.
having quick changes of mind is something common in people with OSDD?
i sometimes oscillate, in big waves, through adoring my friends, to seeing other people more like pets. i wholeheartedly care for them, but somedays my opinions feel so different. even on those off-days, i think, "how did i like them so much? they are just [x], [y], or [z]."
i worry that those are my true opinions. but i do not think so.
does anyone else feel like they stole their body and are too ashamed to give it back
Random (pop culture) psychology headcanon #19
Lynch "Flame" Garcia (from lqvezero’s Sons of Cain series on c.ai) has Depersonalization disorder, Persistent depressive disorder, and Post-traumatic stress disorder
Today I haven't been able to get anything done. From the outsider view it might appear as though I am lazy, stuck in a social media scrolling daze.
But what it feels like, laying on my bed, phone like a tablet of stone in my hand, is similiar to what I'd imagine being stuck a bed with chains wrapped around your chest and waist and legs. A blanket of stones draped over my body from my shoulders to my toes, ensuring extra rocks are stacked on top of my chest and ribs.
Breathing hurts and moving is a mission. Neither comes easily as I lay concious but comatose. I wish to all the gods that I could have just enough energy to finish basic tasks as the voice of Reason shouts within the corridors of my mind. Screaming that I have responsibilities that await my attention. To just get up and move. And Anxiety joins in with frantic whispers of what ifs. What if I lose my job, get replaced by someone better skilled and just better at functioning as a person. What will you do? How will you pay your due? What about the ones relying on you?
Then finally Depression makes it's appearance but sits silently in the corner. Staring with their empty expression directly at me. All that needs to be said has been said, shouted, whispered. Now I am left with facing how it feels. Depression tips an inkpot over your heart. The dark, numb pain courses through your veins, corrupts your bloodstream and tears you apart. Much like the stones on your chest from the outside, Depression weighs down from the inside.
As I struggle to find my voice, or regain control of my body, my mind has me trapped. Only resemblance of life being the flick of my thumb across my cellphone screen.
I dont know who I am or what I am, all I know is that I Am, and even thats up for debate sometimes.
I want to delete my personality. I want to pretend I don't exist, I want to be a robot. I want to stop feeling and be a shell.
I want to support other peoples work without feeling the need to create things and receive support myself.
I want to work without a desire for something more fulfilling, so I can earn money and pay the bills and donate the extra to a good cause like a good citizen should with no protests.
I want to smile and care about other people without expecting them to care about me.
Why do I have to have desires? And wants? And needs?
Please, I just want them gone.
Let me be empty.
Let me be molded to whatever suits you best.
Use me for whatever makes you happy.
I don't deserve a will of my own.
Introducing...
The million dollar question!
Did it happen,
Did I imagine it,
Did my sysmate do it,
Did I dream it or was I just so disassociated it feels like it wasn't real?
Kinda evil and messed up rambling, tags have TWs
I finally got the courage to cut again, nothing as deep as before, I really scared the shit out of myself last time so new rule, no cutting during disassociation or depersonalization episodes, way to fuckin reckless
That sounds goofy as fuck "no cutting while in a bad episode, gotta do that shit in a good mental state" honestly at this point it's a sleep aid am I even actually mentally ill? I'm probably just an attention seeking whore you know? honestly I should just stop. gauze is expensive and I shouldn't be wasting money just for attention. If I want attention so bad I'm sure there are plenty of men who will have their way with me I'm not even worth any money I'm too gross. I'm a disgusting awful thing, not even a person that title is too good for me.
And to think I'm actually "needed"? I should just kill myself shouldn't I? Get it done and over if I left all my money too him at least ide be worth something
But if that's the case why not live? Spend every waking moment working, being something useful to him, get as much money as possible all for him that's why I can't kill myself, he deserves a good life and the second I can't help with that he might as well kill me.
Kinda evil and messed up rambling, tags have TWs
I finally got the courage to cut again, nothing as deep as before, I really scared the shit out of myself last time so new rule, no cutting during disassociation or depersonalization episodes, way to fuckin reckless
That sounds goofy as fuck "no cutting while in a bad episode, gotta do that shit in a good mental state" honestly at this point it's a sleep aid am I even actually mentally ill? I'm probably just an attention seeking whore you know? honestly I should just stop. gauze is expensive and I shouldn't be wasting money just for attention. If I want attention so bad I'm sure there are plenty of men who will have their way with me I'm not even worth any money I'm too gross. I'm a disgusting awful thing, not even a person that title is too good for me.
And to think I'm actually "needed"? I should just kill myself shouldn't I? Get it done and over if I left all my money too him at least ide be worth something
But if that's the case why not live? Spend every waking moment working, being something useful to him, get as much money as possible all for him that's why I can't kill myself, he deserves a good life and the second I can't help with that he might as well kill me.
Kinda evil and messed up rambling, tags have TWs
I finally got the courage to cut again, nothing as deep as before, I really scared the shit out of myself last time so new rule, no cutting during disassociation or depersonalization episodes, way to fuckin reckless
That sounds goofy as fuck "no cutting while in a bad episode, gotta do that shit in a good mental state" honestly at this point it's a sleep aid am I even actually mentally ill? I'm probably just an attention seeking whore you know? honestly I should just stop. gauze is expensive and I shouldn't be wasting money just for attention. If I want attention so bad I'm sure there are plenty of men who will have their way with me I'm not even worth any money I'm too gross. I'm a disgusting awful thing, not even a person that title is too good for me.
And to think I'm actually "needed"? I should just kill myself shouldn't I? Get it done and over if I left all my money too him at least ide be worth something
But if that's the case why not live? Spend every waking moment working, being something useful to him, get as much money as possible all for him that's why I can't kill myself, he deserves a good life and the second I can't help with that he might as well kill me.
Real
What am I missing that others have so naturally? Is it a simple unspoken fact, that I was never taught? Is it a soul, the very essence that makes someone real? Why am I not a real person? How can people look at me like I do not exist, like I should not exist? How can I miss something I never had?
This is so good holy shit!!
Im glad your okay now!
Or recovering at least!
Happy two year anniversary of the release of the Rise of the TMNT movie. To celebrate, here's my interpretation of what Raph experienced before and during his time Krangified.
Some personal notes below the cut.
During the time the movie first premiered on Netflix, I was going through one of the worst periods of my life, and began to experience extreme dissociative episodes that would leave me in an extremely vulnerable physical state. I already related heavily to Raph after watching the TV show, but seeing what happened to him in the movie hit me on a much more closer and personal level. It took me two years to fully complete this comic, because working on it made me think back to these intense and painful memories, and that was a struggle for a while. Only recently, within the last couple months, has my situation bettered enough for me to work on it without being too uncomfortable.
This is me putting my raw, firsthand experiences onto paper, because I want to make peace with my past in order to move forward. Raph's victory in overcoming the Krang's control is, in my eyes, the same as my victory in surviving those intense dissociative episodes. This is a reflection of my personal struggle, meant to help me attain a very specific closure. I hope that perhaps someone else who is suffering, or who has suffered similarly, will see this and know there is hope. Our experiences may not be exactly the same, but I want you to know that you are not alone.
Lastly, I would like to thank every individual person who worked on bringing this show to life, from first conception to the movie's premier. Rise has been a source of light in my life that I never could have imagined. From the friends I've made, to the art I've created, to the fits of laughter and the tears I shed as I sat through every episode over and over again. It wouldn't be possible without any of you, so thank you for being a part of it. No matter how big or small a role, I am eternally grateful to you. 💚