Unlike a lot of people who have DP, mine was not the outcome of trauma or drug use.

I grew up in a normal environment, with two older sisters, and two strict, but loving parents.  I lived a normal childhood.

 

The first time that I can remember being aware of my DP was when I was 10 years old.  I wasn't sure what these "episodes" were, and I was positive I was going crazy. I only told my closet friends.

My DP wasn't that bad until 4 years later, in grade nine.  That January,  the DP started to effect everything in my life, school, home, and social interactions.  My episodes became deeper, more often, and lasted longer.

I finally had to tell my family.  They sent me to my family doctor, not knowing what was going on, my doctor referred me to a youth therapist center.  This was really confusing for me, because no one knew what was wrong with me, and I was put through many medical tests.  I felt extremely alone, and several months later was sent to a physiatrist.  After a few weeks of wrong guesses, they found a name, Depersonalization Disorder. It was very encouraging reading the diagnosis sheet, I no longer felt crazy.

I was put on Celexa, and am still getting used to it.  It is working somewhat, but it is still a really difficult point in my life right now, because my DP keeps getting worse.  I was overjoyed when a friend brought this website to my attention.  It helped me so much reading the personal stories, knowing I am not alone.

It is hard dealing with DP as I am only 15, and still discovering who I am.  I can only imagine how tough it is for those of you who are juggling a family, a job and much more with the weight of DP on your shoulders.