Adult abuse survivor coming to terms with my DPD DRD

I am a 46 year old male whose done decades of work on himself. I'm sober and in therapy. I stumbled across DPD and DRD last year probably if I can remember correctly, because I just felt so desperate for answers relating probably to something I was experiencing in the moment. It started with me ordering the book Feeling Unreal by Daphne Simeon and Jeffrey Abugel. It was helpful.

I am still in shock that what I've been struggling with actually has a name. That it can be defined. I pride myself on being (maybe in part because of DPD) extremely intelligent and hyper self aware (DPD and definitely not what I would call a character asset).

I've prayed to be stupid, uncaring and out of touch, to no avail. I was raised by a schizophrenic alcoholic drug addicted mother and an alcoholic sociopath of a father who left us after mother killed herself when I was 13. And while it makes me feel shame to admit, I've only ever felt truly safe when incapacitated whether it be sick or injured or both. I've been on my own my entire life. I am disabled due to a severe back ailment I've had for 25 years. Parts of me want to get on and have a life somehow. I guess that's why I'm ready to connect to just how perverse an affect DPD and DRD have always had on me.

In the mean time I've wafted from modality to modality, doctor to doctor, endeavor to endeavor never really getting anywhere. And not for lack of working hard or being committed. I could go into a laundry-list as I know so many of have when it comes to how DPD DRD affects me. I probably will do that later.

I guess I write this first post just to let off some steam in the hopes someone out there will be able to relate. I live in total isolation and look the part of someone who has it all together. I realize now I want the world to know how I feel and what I experience without me even being aware of what I'm going through. I think that unrealistic expectation comes from always having been in so much distress moment to moment.

I trust basically no one and have no friends. I'm hoping that by learning how DPD has hijacked me and my sense of self that I'll stop blaming and beating myself up so much for what I experience moment to moment. It's partly why I push myself away from everyone.

DPD DRD has and is a living hell for me. I'm just in the beginning stages of accepting that by knowing that I have a condition a disorder an actual disease, that I can start to hopefully be able to feel a little more. Being this aware and so totally locked out of myself has been a nightmare. It's going to take me time to understand what all I think I was born with and what developed out of all the trauma and abuse I went through. For some reason maybe mistakenly, that matters to me.

It is hard for me to relate to people who talk about how good, joyful or pleasurable life was BEFORE DPD because I've never known anything but struggle. I can recall clearly sitting in nursery school at four years old staring out the window feeling completely dead, listless, disoriented questioning why I existed and seeing no point to anything that was going on around me. It would be from this point that I would come to believe that life was something you had to pretend to want to be a part of.

In any case, wishing you all well this Sunday. I've got some grieving to do. My best,

MichaelDJ101 wrote:I guess I write this first post just to let off some steam in the hopes someone out there will be able to relate. I live in total isolation and look the part of someone who has it all together. I realize now I want the world to know how I feel and what I experience without me even being aware of what I'm going through. I think that unrealistic expectation comes from always having been in so much distress moment to moment.

I trust basically no one and have no friends. I'm hoping that by learning how DPD has hijacked me and my sense of self that I'll stop blaming and beating myself up so much for what I experience moment to moment. It's partly why I push myself away from everyone.

Hello, thank you for sharing your story. I'm sorry for your loss, and glad you are finding your way now. The bolded part may be an unrealistic expectation for an adult, but not for a young child who needs a parent to understand his needs even when he doesn't. Your needs were so neglected, you still feel it. It's not so unrealistic now, to want to be connected. Trauma hurts and robs of us our lives.