@isaromo - Hey, thanks for the kind words. Yes, my relationship to death has changed for the better since I've started leaning into this approach.
I also used to struggle with DPDR quite a bit, as well as really intense existential crises with spiraling thoughts about the nature of reality. Those things, just like the obsession of death, are fueled by us trying to fight the thoughts around them.
The exact mechanisms behind DPDR are still being studied (from what I understand), but it's basically believed to be the brain's way of protecting itself from being overwhelmed. It does this by redirecting processing power away from emotional regions of the brain, which is what causes that "distant" and "alien" feeling.
It likely evolved in us as a way to deal with traumatic events. If you're out in the woods looking for food and a tiger suddenly appears and kills your partner, there's no time for you to feel sad; you need to survive. So the brain temporarily numbs the emotions and the feeling of being present in that situation, allowing you to quickly come up with a plan to get out of there fast. Once the immediate threat (the tiger) is gone and you know you're safe, that DPDR state lifts, and you are then able to process the heavy emotions of what just happened in a safe environment.
The problem is that we rarely find ourselves in a situation like that today. Rather than single, obvious traumatic events, most of our days involve chronic, long-lasting stressors that slowly wear away at us: work, school, bills, daily responsibilities, complicated relationships, etc. Despite how it may feel with the news these days, we live in a very safe time compared to our ancestors. That gives us more time to sit around and think about ourselves, which is one of the easiest ways to make yourself chronically anxious. Because of all this ongoing stress, that DPDR feeling comes along but it takes a very long time to go away, because there's no obvious threat to get rid of. There's no tiger to run away from; just a persistent, underlying feeling of things not being okay.
So rather than a helpful defense mechanism, DPDR just turns into one more thing to be anxious about. The unreal and alien feeling disturbs us, and we start wondering what it "means." We get existential about it. We worry if it's going to "be like this forever." None of that was ever ment to come from DPDR because it was only meant to last for the duration of the stressful event. That's where the cruel irony is: DPDR arrives as a response to stress/anxiety, so our stress/anxiety about it causes it to stay around longer!
Once I realized this, my relationship to it shifted completely. Now when I get any sort of DPDR feeling, rather than freaking out about what it "means," I just recognize that I'm feeling that way. That's it; nothing more, nothing less. There's no need to attach a story to it. Let it come and let it go. Better yet, welcome the feeling and ask for more of it. Think of it like a warm blanket on a cold night; the brain temporarily protecting you from the emotional toll of life.
I'm not one to push any sort of spiritual traditions on anyone, but for what it's worth, I've found Buddhist philosophy to be immensely beneficial for all of this. There are so many parallels between modern psychology (especially ERP) and Buddhist teachings. I recommend looking into it if you're interested in that kind of thing.