Dear the Guy I Can’t Seem To Get Out Of My Head,

I’d really like to be able to forget about you. And ya know, I have come a long way. I don’t think about you as much… but there are times, like now, where my mind wanders to you, to the texts we shared, and the hopes I had of seeing you.

You kind of treated me like shit, ya know. Your behavior resembled that of a complete douche bag, and yet, you aren’t a complete douche bag, so I’m having trouble reconciling the emotions in my head. But when I talk about you to my friends, they’re quick to convince me that you are, in fact, a complete douche bag. I only wish it helped me get over you faster. But for some reason, it’s not.

It doesn’t feel good.

Why the hell can’t I get over you?

I have some theories, one of them being this: Since you live in another state, all I had were your texts and phone calls. While you said some amazing things, I didn’t have the “video” to match the audio, so I used my imagination to fill in the gaps. I pictured us going on dates at the beach, talking in coffee shops, and making out under the covers—and it was PERFECT. You were charming. Your smile beckoned me closer. Your hands were soft. But see, none of that was reality. They were unfounded, scenes made up in my head, of what I considered “perfect.” But had they ever happened? No, and yet, I held them close to my heart, possessively, as if they were a memory, and I still do. I fell in love with you, but only the version of you that I had in my head. Sure, we became close over the phone, but the only foundation we had was an unstable one.

Anyway, I tried to create a healthier foundation for us, but as I’ve said before, you were resistant. Ugh, you had every excuse under the sun, but enough about that…

The truth is… I still haven’t gotten over you, and a part of me hopes I’m not in this boat alone. I hope you still think about me every night before you go to sleep. I hope you think of kissing me and talking about the world with me. I hope you still count the ways in which we seemed compatible. I hope you remember what it felt like to tell me that you loved me… Cause THAT happened…

It’s funny, because as much as I love my mind’s fictional representation of you, a part of me wonders if I’d feel the same way about the “real” you. I used to hope so, but since things have fallen apart, I’m trying to convince myself that the two versions wouldn’t match. Outside of finding you attractive, funny, smart, and family-oriented, I can’t prove that you’re caring, or affectionate, or brave, or gentle, or any of the qualities I once linked with you.

Maybe, in person, you’re really boring, and mean, and uncultured, and impatient. Let’s go with that, because it will make it easier for me to move on.

Oh, and you should know, I have a second date this week! I had written out something really snarky to close this letter, but decided against it. I just really hope this guy puts in the time and effort to sweep me off my feet, because I think I deserve it at this point.

Sincerely,

Stephanie

P.S.

Thanks for the birthday text.

Lesson #15: Depersonalization is NOT forever, Part II

In Depersonalization is NOT forever, Part I, I told you about how I came to know depersonalization. I told you about the mysteries it created in my life. I told you about the fear I experienced, at simply not having answers. And then I found my answers, in this article.

And I believe that’s where we left off.

This article helped me simply because it gave me a name for what I was experiencing.

Do you not feel real? Yes!

Do you almost feel like you’re dreaming while awake? Yes.

Do you feel like you’ve been dropped on another planet? OMG YES!

Does it get worse when you focus on it? HOLY COW, yeah!

CONGRATS! YOU HAVE DEEEEEEEPERONSALIZATION (DP)! 

Learning that DP is simply a defense mechanism in response to “recent trauma” or “cannibis” took an immense weight off my shoulders. I urged my mom to read it, as well as my boyfriend. I finally had answers, and the whole world ought to know!

The article goes on to console those people like me who think depersonalization is forever. It gave me tips for “getting rid of it.” For instance, to stop thinking about it, by not talking about it, being aware of it but not giving it my attention. It all seemed so easy! The solution is easy yes, but it’s just applying it that got so hard.

After reading this article, I felt good…for a week or so. I still felt my little friend DP on my shoulder, whispering strange existential questions in my ear, but instead of freaking out over them, I simply reminded myself that this was just my mind’s way of coping with the scary world.

And then it got harder again. I thought maybe this whole DP thing WAS forever. Suddenly, I didn’t want a name for my issues! I just wanted them to go away. I was angry at myself for smoking the pot. I felt like a virgin having sex for the first time and then finding out she contracted HIV. I felt like one decision has ruined the entire rest of my life.

Journal entry from 4/29/15: Anxious. Anxious. Anxious. Feel trapped. And scared of feeling this way forever. The world seems so scary & dark when I’m like this. I can’t deal with death. Thinking about it, it makes me wonder what the point of it all is. I feel hopeless right now, but I know it’s not forever. Everything just feels so distant from me.

I laid in bed, staring at my ceiling, feeling alone, thinking about morbid stuff like death. Good, clean fun. Nothing felt real, and it was isolating, living alone in my own little world, separated by the rest of the REAL word by a thick veil. I read message boards (BAD) about people who had had DP for 40+ years. Oh God, I thought. That will be me. Of course, it was THAT kind of thinking that kept me trapped in DP-land…

I was still able to work and go about my life, but without fail, at 6 p.m., I’d go to my room and brood. Again, nothing about this was helping me. Also, there was other stuff going on in my life that wasn’t making my healing process any easier.

I sought out a psychiatrist, hoping he’d have some kind of answers for me, but not many people know about DP, which makes it all the scarier. That’s really the main reason why I sought out answers online – because it was the only place I could find them. But, eventually, I realized I needed to stop. I needed to stop reading about people who were “ruined” forever from one stupid mistake with drugs and assuming I was just like them. I tried to be positive, and I relied on my boyfriend and my mom like crazy, but they didn’t understand.

My psychiatrist tried me on different anti-depressants, which didn’t seem to help with the DP. Quick tip: Changing your meds won’t help with DP. DP is a state of mind, and it’s foundation lies in anxiety. So yes, I suppose it could help a little, but really, time and a positive attitude are the only two real therapies for DP. Realizing that can be hard. I’m a control freak, but knowing that it was up to me to get rid of DP intimidated me. It was easier just to assume I’d have it forever. But that’s a defeatist attitude, and it won’t get you anywhere, folks! Patience is a virtue–truly.

It looks like I’m going to have to do a “part III” for this topic, because it’s getting to be too long.

In “part III,” I’ll talk about how I came out of DP, and how I’m thankful to have gone through it. Seriously. As corny as that sounds… it forced me to find peace within myself, which takes a lot of freaking time. I’m still in the process… but to be honest, DP essentially motivated me to start this blog because I learned SO MUCH “in my fight” against it, and I wanted a place to share it. So, with that being said, UNTIL NEXT TIME!