Consciousness is wearing you like a sweater, it doesn't care that you might be suffering or in some paralysis of identity. As far as it's concerned when it comes to you, consciousness has only one thing to say, "Nice sweater".
Some day, and it might as well be today, you simply drop the reflex to make it all about you. The narrative ends, anticipation ends, regret and memory go moot, the presumption of "other" drops away; there is no longer any impulse to explain or negotiate or derive any further benefit from what appears as the experiential field.
