Introduction

You’re already back in the world. You just haven’t let go of the blueprint yet.

You’ve recovered — or almost. You’re not afraid anymore. You barely notice "that state."

But... You’re still checking. Still watching yourself from the outside. Still waiting for that final confirmation: "It’s really over."

Quiet and clear

What’s happening

This isn’t a phase of symptoms — it’s a phase of a shadow. The brain is no longer in defense mode. But the mind still holds a background vigilance. 

It’s like living with "double exposure": outwardly — everything looks normal, but inside — "is it really?"

Calmly

What’s important to understand

  • We don’t "go back" to how things were before.
  • We create a new perception — where DPDR becomes just another part of the story.

You can think about it. You can remember it. You can even analyze it — but you don’t have to live from it anymore.

Valuable actions

What to do in this phase

✔  Stop waiting for the “it’s finally over” sign.
→ Recovery doesn’t end with fireworks.
→ It simply fades into the background.
→ You don’t have to stop thinking about it forever — just stop tracking it.

✔ Practice "I am inside life."
→ Shift the question “Am I normal?” to “What am I doing right now?”
→ Shift “What do I feel?” to “Where am I?”
→ Shift “How do I look from the outside?” to “What brings me joy?”

This isn’t retraining. It’s a natural shift of focus.

Return to action


The brain is back online — but it hasn’t yet let go of the observer mode. You need to reclaim your focus.

  • Do one thing with full presence: tea, a book, three minutes of music.
  • No multitasking. Just that one thing.
  • Afterward — let it go.
  • No analyzing.
Internal translator


When the thought comes: "Has it really passed?" — reframe it:

  • “This isn’t anxiety. It’s a memory.” “This isn’t DPDR.
  • It’s just me remembering what it felt like.”

That’s enough.

You’re almost out. Now it’s not about “closing the chapter” — it’s about letting it quietly move out of focus.

 

You’re already living.
I know, because I’ve been there too.

And I remember — everything seemed fine,
but inside, there was still that quiet question:
“Has it really passed?”

You look from the inside —
not anxiously, just out of habit.
As if you're waiting: “Will it come back?”

That’s okay.
It’s just a trace. Not a symptom — a memory.
Your mind is learning that it no longer needs to monitor every second.

I used to catch myself doing it too.
Even when things felt good,
there was still that soft voice:
“What if this isn’t real?”

Now I know —
it doesn’t have to get in the way.
You can shift the focus a little.
From “what’s happening to me?” to “where am I going?”
From “what do I feel?” to “what matters to me?”

You’re allowed to remember.
To analyze.
Just don’t make it the center of everything.

You’re already here.
Life is happening.
And day by day, it becomes not a “proof you’ve recovered,”
but simply — your life.

 



With respect and warmth,  
Serge

izo-1







When it’s over, you don’t have to erase the memory.
You just don’t have to keep your hand on the pulse anymore.
Sometimes freedom isn’t a leap forward —
it’s a quiet step away from constant monitoring.

And if you need support along the way — we offer two gentle forms of guidance: a book that resonates, and an AI companion that guides.

→ Learn more