It may seem as if the title says it all, but really, what does it mean to feel "unreal?"
These feelings of "spaciness" or "fogginess" that I experience 90% of the time are difficult to describe, and I'm not sure this post will successfully accomplish that task. But I will do my best to elaborate the way that I view the world.
The two primary subjective perspective states of my disorder are depersonalization and derealization. The two are often combined in the medical literature, but their effects on the sufferer are bluntly distinct. Depersonalization refers to a sense of strangeness about one's own body. People suffering from this symptom will often complain that their body feels strange and foreign to them. Body parts appear to imbue a bizarre shape or size, and may seem to not belong to the individual who does, in fact, possess them. The person may stare at him- or herself in the mirror and not recognize the reflection glaring back at them. They may also feel as though they are watching themselves from above, or at some vantage point outside of their body.
I have had these feelings in the past, but only under period of heavy anxiety and extreme duress. Most of the time, though, I feel as though my eyes are entrenched far in the back of my head, nowhere near the sockets, and that I cannot penetrate the world from the inside of my body. Except under certain rare circumstances, I also haven't had the misfortune of not recognizing myself in the mirror. Indeed, I find that a nearly opposite phenomenon occurs when I look at my reflection. Considering that I spend so much time stuck in my head--whether in an anxious state or contemplating a complex idea--I often feel that my mind and my body are two distinct entities. Rather frequently do I feel that my mind is not in control of what my body does, or that I am a mind without a body. Staring at myself in the mirror typically proves to be one of the best grounding techniques I have in my arsenal, as it reinforces the fact that the image staring back at me is my own. That I truly do exist and am not solely a meandering mind.
My primary complaint is that I have great difficulty connecting with the world around me. People and things that I pass by do not get processed in my brain. Moreover, when I do stop and try to pay attention to these things, I get easily flustered and frustrated by the fact that what my eyes are staring, or what my ears are hearing, seems to receive no input. When I say that things around me feel unreal ("derealization"), it means that they seem to be distant and fuzzy. It seems that there is this veil or glass wall blocking me from my surroundings. Furthermore, when I actively try to pay attention to these things, the veil becomes darker; the wall becomes more dense. I believe this is because my anxiety is increasing due to my frustration.
I read a book recently about this disorder, wherein one of the patients, feeling exacerbated by her condition, confessed that she would rather have cancer. Her reasoning was that, at least with cancer, there is a certain degree of empathy that one receives from people. There are marathons and telethons devoted to those suffering from a crippling and terminal illness. You are considered "brave" and a "fighter" for having to deal with such a horrible disease. Whereas with depersonalization disorder, the sufferer--if he or she does bring it up to others at all--is frequently considered neurotic and self-absorbed. So we don't talk about it. We merely suffer in silence. We don't have to wait for the cancer to destroy us, as we already feel dead inside. Suicide seems like a tautology.
I'm not sure I agree completely with this patient's sentiment. In some respects (and at particularly low points in my life), it does have a degree of poignancy to me. I, however, maintain hope that, in time, I will be able to feel and conduct business as everyone else does. I know that, under certain conditions, the DP/DR does diminish, and may even disappear entirely. This disorder is highly resistant to treatment, but if I can flesh out and begin to understand why I feel better under those conditions, I may be able to unlock the key to permanently ridding myself of this impairment.
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