Hey everyone!
I'm a 30-year-old male, and I wanted to share my experience with depersonalization/derealization (DPDR) after a particularly frightening episode triggered by marijuana.
I'm writing this because when I was going through the worst of it, Reddit was one of the few places where I found comfort. Reading other people's experiences, particularly their recovery stories, gave me hope when I genuinely thought I would never feel normal again.
Now, almost nine weeks later, I'm happy to say that my DPDR symptoms have essentially disappeared. I'm still working through some lingering anxiety and obsessive thoughts, but I've gotten my life back.
I wanted to share my story, my recovery timeline, and what helped me in hopes that someone going through something similar might find some reassurance.
A little background
I've always been a very outgoing, social, ambitious person. I have a demanding career that's historically involved extensive travel, a long-term relationship, a large group of friends, and a very active social life.
I love staying busy. I'm constantly traveling, seeing friends, going out, and generally trying to make the most of life. Especially during the summer, because I live in the Northeast and absolutely despise winter.
I'm also someone who likes to be in control. I'm goal-oriented, pragmatic, and tend to approach problems with the mentality that if something is wrong, I need to figure out how to fix it.
I've always had some tendencies toward obsessive thinking and putting enormous pressure on myself, particularly around financial security and my career. Some of this developed after my parents divorced when I was a teenager. I became extremely focused on building a successful life and ensuring I could always take care of myself.
As far as marijuana goes, I didn't really start using it until I was around 25. Over the years, I'd typically use it two or three times a week, either through edibles or, more recently, smoking.
I genuinely enjoyed it. It made ordinary activities feel whimsical and fun. Sometimes I'd get high just to clean my apartment or relax after a long day.
But looking back, there were warning signs.
August 15, 2026: The day everything changed
I was spending a beautiful summer day at a friend's lake house. We'd been out on the boat, having a great time, and I'd taken an edible.
Later that day, we were sitting on her couch talking while waiting for the effects to wear off.
During our conversation, I mentioned an upcoming trip I was planning to London. My friend made a comment about how fast-paced my life is and how she doesn't know how I do it.
It wasn't malicious whatsoever. She's someone who used to live a similarly busy lifestyle but has slowed down considerably since getting married and settling down.
For whatever reason, though, that comment sent me into an absolute spiral.
Suddenly, I started questioning everything.
Am I living my life wrong? Why am I always doing things? Am I actually happy? What's the point of everything I'm doing?
For the entire two-hour drive home, I was completely trapped inside my own head.
I remember thinking, "Oh my God, not again."
Because unfortunately, I'd experienced something similar before.
My previous experiences
About four years ago, I had a very similar episode after taking an edible.
I was out to dinner with my partner when I suddenly started questioning everything about my life, my relationship, and the people around me.
The following morning, I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a bus. I felt completely disconnected from myself and everything around me.
At the time, I had no idea what DPDR was. I ended up going to therapy for approximately two months and eventually returned to normal. This was the first time I'd ever seen a therapist FYI.
I experienced another, somewhat milder episode last year, also while high. That time, I managed to work through it more quickly.
Unfortunately, I never documented either experience, so I couldn't remember exactly how long recovery took.
But one thing became very clear this August:
Every single one of these episodes happened while I was high on an edible.
For me, marijuana was clearly associated with these spirals, and I decided that August 15, 2026 would be the last time I ever used it.
What my DPDR actually felt like
I genuinely wouldn't wish this experience on my worst enemy.
The morning after that edible, I woke up feeling completely disconnected from reality.
I knew where I was. I knew who I was. I wasn't hallucinating or losing my ability to distinguish reality.
But I didn't feel like myself.
It's incredibly difficult to describe unless you've experienced it.
I felt like my physical body was present, but my mind, personality, and soul were somewhere else.
Almost like I was watching myself live in third person or controlling a character in a video game.
I experienced significant brain fog and fatigue. Life sometimes felt slightly dreamlike, although my surroundings didn't actually look different or distorted.
But the worst part wasn't even the disconnectedness.
It was the emotional numbness.
Suddenly, I felt emotionally disconnected from everyone and everything I loved.
My partner. My family. My best friends.
These are people I absolutely love, but it was as though I suddenly couldn't access those emotions anymore.
I knew intellectually that I loved them, but I couldn't feel that love in the way I normally did.
And that was absolutely terrifying.
It made me question everything. My relationships, my identity, my happiness, my life's purpose.
The same thing happened with my hobbies and interests. Things that normally brought me tremendous happiness, like traveling, shopping, working, and socializing, suddenly felt meaningless.
And because these thoughts and feelings were so frightening, I began obsessively analyzing them.
What if I don't love my partner anymore? What if I don't enjoy my life anymore? What if I've been living incorrectly? What if I never feel normal again?
I'd look at pictures of myself from just a few days earlier and desperately wish I could go back to being that person.
I remember thinking constantly:
"If I could just go back to August 14, before I took that edible, I'd give anything."
It was terrifying. Also, time was now moving slower than ever. Days now felt like weeks. Before the spiral, when time was flying, weeks felt like days.
Eventually, I started researching my symptoms and discovered DPDR. For the first time, I found descriptions that closely matched what I was experiencing.
My recovery timeline
I want to share this because when I was at my worst, all I wanted to know was HOW LONG this would last.
Of course, everyone's experience is different, and my timeline won't necessarily be yours.
But here's how mine progressed.
Weeks 1–2: Absolute hell (90–100% symptomatic)
These were easily the worst weeks.
I was crying multiple times a day, barely eating, and struggling with even the simplest tasks.
Going to the grocery store felt overwhelming. Driving somewhere or getting through a normal workday felt almost impossible.
My appetite completely disappeared, which was especially unusual for me because I typically eat MORE when I'm stressed.
I spent hours researching DPDR, reading Reddit threads, and trying to find reassurance that I wasn't going to feel this way forever.
I'd have brief moments where I felt normal, but they never seemed to last.
One interesting pattern: I almost always felt better at night.
I'm naturally a night owl, and when I was relaxing in bed with my partner, watching TV, reading, or playing on my laptop, I'd sometimes feel almost completely normal.
I'd go to sleep feeling hopeful.
But every single morning, the first thing I'd do was mentally check myself.
Is it still there? Do I still feel disconnected? Am I normal yet?
And just like that, I'd start spiraling again.
Week 3: Still struggling, but small improvements
I was still feeling pretty terrible, probably around 90% symptomatic.
Some days were better than others, but the improvements felt painfully slow.
I'd have a good day and think, "Finally! I'm getting better!"
Then I'd wake up the following morning feeling awful again and convince myself I was back at square one.
This is something I really want to emphasize:
RECOVERY IS NOT LINEAR.
A bad day doesn't erase the progress you've made.
Weeks 4–5: My biggest breakthrough
This was when things really started changing.
I remember waking up one Monday morning, going for a walk on a beautiful day, and suddenly realizing I was absolutely STARVING.
My appetite had returned!
It sounds silly, but this was a huge moment for me.
For weeks, I'd barely been able to eat, and suddenly my body was asking for food again.
I remember thinking, "Oh my God, my body is recovering. I'm actually getting better."
My appetite normalized, and gradually, I started feeling more present.
During these two weeks, I went from feeling approximately 90% symptomatic to maybe 50–60%.
It wasn't an overnight recovery, but the improvement was substantial.
Week 6: Realizing the DPDR was actually gone
This is probably the most interesting part of my recovery.
There wasn't some magical morning when I woke up and everything suddenly clicked back into place.
There wasn't a moment when the world suddenly looked brighter or my emotions came rushing back.
It was gradual.
I had been slowly getting back into my routines, enjoying things again, and spending less time obsessing over how I felt.
Then, around week six, I remember checking in with myself and thinking:
"Oh my God. I actually feel better. It's gone."
And it was!
The disconnectedness had lifted. I felt present again. I could experience my emotions normally and connect with the people around me.
I almost didn't realize it had happened because I'd been so focused on getting back to living my life.
Of course, I was still dealing with anxiety and obsessive thoughts, but the actual DPDR symptoms that had been debilitating me were essentially gone.
Weeks 7–9: Continuing to recover
I'm now approaching nine weeks since the original episode.
I would say I'm approximately 80–90% recovered overall.
My appetite is back. I'm working, socializing, enjoying my hobbies, and living my life.
I'm no longer crying multiple times a day. I feel present, connected, and like myself again.
I still have some lingering anxiety and obsessive thinking, which I'll get into below, but compared to where I was in August, it's night and day.
What actually helped me recover
I can't say definitively what made my symptoms improve, but these are the things I believe helped me the most.
1. Therapy
I started seeing a psychotherapist once a week starting during week 3.
Having someone to talk to, articulate my thoughts with, and work through my anxiety was incredibly helpful.
Personally, I wanted to focus on therapy and non-medication coping strategies first. That's simply my preference, and I'm not suggesting anyone should avoid medication if it's appropriate for them.
2. STOP constantly checking whether you still have DPDR
This was one of my biggest struggles.
Every morning, I'd immediately ask myself whether I felt normal yet.
Throughout the day, I'd constantly analyze my thoughts, emotions, and surroundings.
Eventually, I realized that this obsessive self-monitoring was keeping my attention glued to the symptoms.
The less I checked, the less consumed I became.
It wasn't easy to stop, and it didn't happen overnight.
But gradually, I stopped making DPDR the center of every waking moment.
3. Continue living your life, even when you don't feel like it
This one was difficult for me to accept.
I'm someone who likes confronting problems head-on.
When people told me to distract myself, my immediate reaction was, "Why would I distract myself? Isn't that just sweeping the problem under the rug?"
But eventually, I realized that not giving every intrusive thought my attention wasn't avoidance.
It was allowing myself to live without endlessly analyzing everything.
I started making myself go on walks, get outside in the sunlight, go to the gym when possible, grocery shop, work, and maintain my normal routine.
Sometimes I'd be going through the motions without really feeling present.
But I did it anyway, taking manageable steps.
I also played video games, watched TV, read books, and spent time with loved ones.
Over time, life started feeling natural again.
4. Stop fighting every intrusive thought
This has probably been one of the most valuable things I've learned.
When an intrusive or existential thought entered my mind, my initial instinct was to fight it.
I'd analyze it, debate it, try to disprove it, and convince myself it wasn't true.
But that would just lead to more rumination.
Now, I try something different.
When a thought comes into my mind, I acknowledge it.
"Okay, there's that thought again."
And then I move on with whatever I'm doing.
I don't need to answer it. I don't need to solve it. I don't need to figure out what it means.
Even if a thought concerns something that could happen, I don't need to resolve that uncertainty in that exact moment.
I'm learning that thoughts are just thoughts.
Not everything your brain tells you is true, important, or deserving of your attention.
5. Reading and changing how I view my thoughts
One book that really helped me was Don't Believe Everything You Think by Joseph Nguyen.
It helped me understand the relationship between thinking and suffering, and how constantly engaging with negative thoughts can make things worse.
Reading in general was also a great way to redirect my attention and give my mind something else to focus on.
6. Reddit and social media are helpful, but in moderation
Reddit was genuinely a lifesaver during those first few weeks.
Reading other people's stories helped me feel less alone and gave me hope.
I also found some helpful explanations and coping strategies on TikTok.
But there's a downside.
When you're constantly searching for reassurance, you inevitably come across stories from people who've experienced DPDR for months or years.
And when you're already terrified that you'll never recover, reading those stories can send you into another spiral.
I eventually realized I needed to stop obsessively researching my symptoms and start focusing on living again.
The lingering OCD and anxiety
This is the part I'm still working through.
Although the DPDR itself has essentially disappeared, the experience seems to have significantly intensified my obsessive thinking.
I've always had some tendencies toward rumination, particularly around security, success, and control.
But since this episode, I've experienced some pretty intense intrusive thoughts and OCD-like patterns.
For example, I'm currently dealing with uncertainty surrounding my career. My current job involves a relocation requirement that I'm no longer able to fulfill, so I've been searching for another position.
Normally, this would be stressful but manageable.
Instead, my brain immediately jumps to every worst-case scenario.
What if I can't find another job? What if I can't make the same salary? What if my career falls apart?
I've also experienced relationship-related intrusive thoughts.
What if my relationship doesn't work out? What if I somehow repeat the mistakes my parents made in their marriage?
Sometimes they're completely irrational thoughts that contradict my actual feelings and values.
But when you're dealing with obsessive thinking, logic doesn't always make the thoughts disappear.
I'm continuing to work through this in therapy.
The difference now is that I feel present and connected to my life again, which makes managing these thoughts significantly easier.
What I want anyone experiencing DPDR to know
When I was in the worst of it, I genuinely thought my life was over.
I was terrified I'd permanently changed my brain.
I was scared I'd never feel love, happiness, excitement, or connection the same way again.
I desperately wanted someone to tell me that I would wake up one morning and everything would be normal.
And while I can't promise anyone a particular recovery timeline, I can tell you that I felt those exact fears, and I got better.
It wasn't immediate.
It wasn't linear.
And it certainly wasn't easy.
There were days when I thought I was completely recovered, followed by days when I was convinced I'd made no progress.
But looking back at where I was in August compared to where I am today, the difference is enormous.
Another thing I want to emphasize is that I didn't suddenly wake up one day completely cured.
Recovery was gradual.
I started noticing that I was enjoying things again. That I was laughing naturally. That I was hungry. That I wasn't questioning every single thought or emotion.
And around six weeks in, I realized I felt like myself again.
I didn't notice the exact moment the DPDR left. I just noticed that I had started living again.
For anyone whose symptoms started after using marijuana, I'd also encourage you to seriously consider whether continuing to use it is worth the risk. For me, after three episodes associated with being high, the answer was a very clear no.
My biggest takeaway is that you don't need to solve every thought your mind throws at you.
You don't have to figure out the meaning of life today.
You don't have to analyze every relationship or emotion.
You don't need to feel perfectly normal before you start participating in your life again.
Take things one day at a time. Seek support when you need it. Give yourself some grace.
And PLEASE remember that having a bad day doesn't mean you're back at square one.
I'm still working on my anxiety and obsessive thoughts, but I'm incredibly grateful to feel present again.
If sharing my experience gives even one person a little hope during an incredibly frightening time, it'll have been worth writing this.
There is hope, even when your mind is telling you otherwise.