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A Reminder that we are a PG13 Site 12/09/2016
Please keep in mind that NO content can be posted that is not PG13! No sexual content and definitely not images which is not permitted in a post! We will delete it. Not even memes or humorous images should be posted, if you want these forums to continue. NO IMAGES! If you want to post an image, post the URL pointing it to your gallery. Again, Depressionforums.org is PG13!! Thank you~ ~Forum Admin
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Does it matter?
By GSpolar
What we do matters. They are real souls, the 10 people who are watching DF, who are so scared of the stigma, imprisoned at 'home' to such a degree, or hurting so deeply.....10 are watching at any given moment for every 1 who dared to even sign up anonymously. If you read this, you probably have encouraged at least one person anonymously, with nothing to gain, just out of love. And for every 1, there were really 10, check out 'Activity/All Users' to see for yourself. How terrible is a disease that 10 are afraid to admit it for every 1 who does.....How valuable is even one note of encouragement, 1 genuine hug. Multiply your hugs by 10........You're changing outcomes of life, you really are- 11 comments
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Septermber 22, 2017
I am completely breaking down, and I cannot hold back the tears.
I will never get back what I've lost, and I just can't do it anymore.
There was no reason for it all to get this bad, there was no reason to make so many poor choices.
There was no reason for the self destruction, there was no reason to tolerate any mistreatment, there was no reason to waste all that time, money, and opportunity.
I have had enough, and I have shed more tears tonight than I have since I was a child.
I have had enough.
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Coming 'round to it
I cannot take recent credit for what follows but it is awesome in it's own desperate, quite possibly embittered and not necessarily sincere way. No, I lifted this from my diary, written 10 years ago today. I know this because I have it in front of me and I'm strange like that.
______
They say remind yourself.
They say if you say it enough you will etc.
They say lots of sh*t
They say be positive
And they say it some more
Vomit tastes better
But be positive
Ok
Shut up
I am so far beyond awesome, Venus couldn't touch me.
Check that out, huh.
P.S. If you reading this, and fail to be delighted for me,
a. Get the f**k away from my diary, and
b. You have homework and I don't
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Where is Autumn?
I am a person that lives for Autumn, the first sign of a cool breeze or the lovely scent of burning leaves gives me a true moment of real joy. I keep waiting for Autumn to arrive and there is no sign of it. Yes, in a few days it will arrive but how can I enjoy it when the weather is in the high 80's almost 90 degrees. I look outside to see leaves changing to yellow, orange and red and then I step outside to heat. It's just this big disappointment. I just keep telling myself that soon it will arrive. I keep holding on for it...
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Still suffer occationally.
Since my last blog entry in January, I have besn successful in losing 80 pounds. I have went from being nearly 245 to waving between 164 and 161. I feel much better after this achievement... but I still feel highly self conscious. I have a lot of loose, jiggly fat that I'm finding difficult to get rid of. Even though I'm thinner, I am still classified as overweight and I hold a VERY high body fat percentage. "Fat: Not Even Once".
*sigh* that aside, I've saved up some money. I'm bored with my gym and have been comtemplating on either switching to a new gym, hire a personal trainer to help push me further, or going the 'easy route' and gett a fat reduction procedure. No matter which I chose, I know I won't be telling the husband about it. Hubby knows I'm saving money, but telling him for what I feell would cause more discussion than I would want since we've had conversations on the topic before.
If I chose to do NONE of those options, I would simply take up a temporary hobby. I'm planning for temp because the hobby I probably would end up chosing will eventually cost more than I could save long term.
It turns out that I have not fully conquered emotional eating like I thought. I don't eat anymore when I'm sad, but I will snack when bored. It wasn't a problem before because I would just exercise and burn it off, But I am scared if falling back into old habits. I'm hoping a hobby will take my mind away from food.
I've done plenty of things by myself such as hiking trips and bike rides, but recently I've started looking into MeetUp for free activities, and maybe gain some friendships. I am still quite a lonely person. I've asked my husband to join in my activities and either he will not, or will do it for the least amount of minimal time as possible - usually no longer than an hour. However, he loves the fact that I still join him in his favorite activities which are easily 3 hours or longer. He is still heavily into gaming, and I enjoy spending time like this with him. I wish he would be a little more interested in my things too. More and more, I've been refusing his gaming invites. In fact, he invited me to meet him at a Gaming and Comic Book store after work today. I genuinely do not want to go. I have yet to give an answer.
Even with this in mind, I try to stay cordial and still spend time with him. I even suggest to play games occationally because I know it makes him happy.
What interesting is that even though on an everyday level the relationship is one-sided, he did do something quite interesting. I had turned 30 this year and he was able to manage organizing a surprise party without my knowing at all! That was pretty cool.
I can't help but wonder though.. he spends a lot of energy on 1 time things, yet won't do tiny things everyday like I do. I'm not angry or upset, but concerned? Does that seem selfish though? It's like having a husband who only does things for you on Valentine's Day. This is an analogy. We don't even do anything on Valentine's Day.
Anyway.. this lack of being interested in me has made me feel lonely and occationally dejected. A few of you may remember that I was so concerned with losing weight in the first place because I was afraid he was unattracted to me.
This... doesn't seem to be the case. Granted, I ****ing love being the most healthy I've ever been in years, but nothing has changed. I even thought that maybe I was TOO focused on myself, which was why I spent so much of my other time with my husband and his hobbies.. but the lack of return was what started me in refusing his interests.
Now here I am. Weirdly fat because i hate stength training. No hobbies or interests of my own because of past imaginary money issues my husband thought, and convinced me to think, we had. Nobody significant that I can call MY friend or a TRUE friend. (tons of acquaintances though). Aaand I emotionally feel like I'm back to square one. I have a better outlook but too apprehensive to make a move for fear of judgement or rejection [again].
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Latest Entry
The Times
TRIGGER WARNING
There was a time when there was good and bad. I learned to expect this, that it was "normal."
Ah...to be normal...is that what one needs? To be the shiniest button in a drawer full of other shiny buttons? What am I trying to say? I want to be shiny? As if there is a choice.
There was a time when I accepted bad times and good times throughout any given day. It was like a cycle. Highs and lows are normal right? Go with the flow. That was before.
And now I know.
There was a time when things were bad. But i knew it would turn off. Things cannot get worse...only better. The Good's turn will come and things will be right once again.
My sister once threw my large floating duck, complete with leash into the lake...knowing full well that at my age i could not swim. My screams and her cackles pushing it as the current took hold of it, pulling it away. Things got better as they always did back then. "If things were bad, good is around the corner."
But somehow I grew up that day. To know others' desire to hurt me. To get me. To plan.
And then the good...always its turn, ending just the same way. The chase. Cornered. The terror. Dad's belt. Bare skin. The feeling of never being good enough. The knowledge that i am always wrong. I am never allowed to feel.
Take it. Then silence.
Love, marriage...finding out that he was just settling and regrets everything, having chosen nothing.
Good times.
And now, the miraculous difference. All times point to bad. Even the bad. No more do i look forward to the end of a bad time. I don't deserve good anyway. Therapy...yeah..."No Natasha, the hitting never stopped...now you give as well as receive."
I always did love gifts.
There is no end now except my own, which will never be soon enough if even in a minute.
Shiny? No. Nothing but dull, drab and dim.
Nothing.
Go ahead, leave me. All of you.
Every last one.
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Frustration
The moment I heard myself respond with; 'Frustration is not a bad thing, it means you have fight left in you, unlike when someone gives up', ......I realized I have no fight left in me.
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my dumb thoughts for the day
I have to say, im surprise i lasted this long with out a desperate attempt to reach out to others. its been 2 months since my last pathetic attempt to tell my acquaintance that "i miss my friend" she hasnt once attempted to reach out to me since june....never checked in to see if I found work...if im ok...or anything.ive been here before...in fact I feel like im in this position quite often. people dont stick around in my life. The rough part is when other people mention it. Like im well aware of my lack of friends, I dont need someone asking "do you even talk to so-so anymore"it hurts, but i cant control it happening. im just not one of those people who matters.i think about it a lot....it has caused me to over think everything with any and all friendships/contacts.but anyways...im back at work...not that anyone in my real life was concerned for me or cared about my mental health during that time. its ok, at least thats what i keep telling myself. someday I will believe my own lies.it sadly consumes me way too much, how i dont have friends, i tend to think about it all the time, not on purpose, it just pops into my head. for instance I went to the food store early this morning...8ish and as I got there, instead of focusing on what I needed to buy, I was thinking....i wonder how so and so is....i wish she would reach out to me.its pathetic...my thinking that is. I wish i could just close the door and forget about people, but i cant. then it makes me wonder what is really wrong with me....37...no friends...no bf/husband...never progressed in life....not even successful at a job. just kinda stumbling thru life...and nothing to show.ive always believed...you get what you deserve....or this was gods plan (im not really religious) and it always makes me think im a horrible person cause im in a horrible place, and im alone in my battle.anyways...my dumb thoughts for the day....- Read more...
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First few weeks of school....
Have been fantastic!
Some of my classes are weird, I have a prof that goes on and on about goddess knows what. I just have to get through it though. Whatever. Everything else is great! I got my community practicum which is working with kids in a "high risk" (controversial term) area in Toronto, and my school placement (also in Toronto) with a wonderful teacher that is very supportive. I really like her and I'm very lucky to have her on my side. I'm excited about the future. I was frightened at first to be honest. I am still kind of nervous, but after volunteering at my friend's/favourite teacher's classroom all year prior to this, I'm more confident than I thought I might be.
I still have a lot of work to do about self worth. My fiance is very frustrated that I keep putting myself down. I guess I can't blame her for being frustrated I just wish she had more patience...patience isn't boundless though. It's ok, I know i'll be fine, it's just something I struggle with.
I'm still taking the wellbutrin. After the vacation I had I dunno if I really need it anymore, but it helps me stay focused and my doctor hasn't said anything to me so I'm going to stay on it for now.
Other than that...I know i'll do really well in school. I'm very excited to learn and teach and kick ass! Woo!
- K
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Frustration
It’s really stupid, but I just spent half an hour trying to print something before giving up. There are a bunch of articles I need to print for one class and a page of homework for another. But the printers in the computing center were working for everyone but me, and I just couldn’t stand there and keep trying anymore. I’ll print them at my dorm tonight. But what’s really stupid is how frustrated I got. I was trying really hard not to cry for a few minutes there and kind of failing. Why should I get so worked up over something I can fix? Something that doesn’t matter in the long run? But I feel like I did when I was a kid, trying to tie my shoes by myself on the bus and continuously failing. I tried not to cry and failed then, too. The funny thing is, this feeling isn’t why I avoid frustration like the plague. It’s because frustration used to be half a step away from anger, and as previously stated on this blog, I cannot allow myself to fall into anger. And here’s Wish the optimist saying, “Well, at least I’m not angry; anything’s better than that, right?”. Even I’m finding that annoying right now. Like, “No, me. This feeling isn’t not horrible just because another feeling is in your opinion worse”. I’m really not good at admitting (even to myself) that I’m not okay. I have class in five minutes, so I’ll stop writing and post this now.
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Latest Entry
The Death Of My Sister
I am in shock by the death of my sister last night. It's so bizarre to think we were only laughing a couple days ago and making plans.
She was unconscious with a breathing tube down in her little lungs. She was hooked up to the heart monitor and her heart began to slow down. In a split second, she just slipped away.
I watched my sister for a little while after she passed away thinking, stupidly, that it this is just temporary and she could just come back. I realized in the same sequence of thought that I was simply in shock.
I immediately thought of all the people I care about here who struggle to live and how horrifically quick a decision could be made to remove all chances for return.
I pray every time I think of the precious people here that each of us will know that we are worthy and loveable and acceptable as we are. And I especially pray that anyone suffering will stay around for a better day.
I am so grateful to have known my sister. I am just as grateful to have my heart touched by so many here.
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Still breathing...
Was lying in bed letting my mind wander, and it took me to memories of people on this site...I hope everyone is doing well and I don't want old acquaintances here to worry about me needlessly, so I thought I'd pop in and let the DF world know I'm still alive. Like everybody I'm up and I'm down. I miss the one that I love a lot, and 100% of my energy is going into getting her back, so I won't be around here much. But I'm alive. I met a lot of good folken here, and I hope all of you are well. ...
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I want oblivion
After seeing the therapist yesterday I realized I will do it one day soon. End my life.
I'm too much of a coward now, but something has broken more within, the void is emptier than ever.
I'm a fcuk up, loser and a defective person. No point staying around. I hate myself. I want to hurt myself and I do. I am full of anger and hatred. People like me should never exist.
I despise humanity, it's callousness and stupidity. We are doomed.
Never getting out of hell. It's all there is.
I want oblivion and I want it now.
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Dealing with trauma
It has been a while since I made the effort to pen down my thoughts. The absence coincided with a period of great uncertainties, hopes and then frustrations. Truth be told, I was struggling for a while and decided to muster the courage to come face to face with my worries by writing them down.
I thought I was coping for a while when my schedule started to clear up, according me with more breathing space to continue healing from a traumatic event and to recover from burn out. The slower pace also accorded the space and capacity for reflection, of where the great inertia to go all out for my clients was coming from. And it hit me - vicarious trauma. I never thought that I would see symptoms of secondary trauma or vicarious trauma in myself, a relatively young worker in the field. You feel so depleted emotionally and you find yourself being as avoidant of work as you could afford, without missing the important deadlines.
But I am thankful I didn't allow myself to be brought back down to the depths of dispair. Working through the trauma experienced at work is painful and anxiety-provoking. It is sad that the helping profession are at such risk of suffering from secondary trauma, and even vicarious trauma. You realise your perception of the world has been altered. Things like the sight of children triggers images of danger, it reminds me of work and the vulnerable population I work with.
But I have also learned that experiencing trauma, while difficult as you heal, can also be a source of positive change. You learn resilience and you discover strengths in yourself that you otherwise wouldn't have. I have learned the importance of self-care and being brave by allowing others in, causing me to feel vulnerable. I have discovered that I have people around me who are watching out for me and that I mattered. Having experienced a traumatic event also helps me understand what my clients go through, and how I can be more sensitive to the way they respond to something potentially traumatic.
While I sound positive, I am still feeling vulnerable and anxious. There are parts of my trauma I still can't fully talk about but I am working through it. Some days I feel it is so unfair that I am here trying to help others, only to be traumatised by the process. But I hold on to the belief that with time, I will work through it and find a way to make sense of trauma in my own unique way and to integrate it into who I am. The wounds of the trauma will never disappear but it doesn't have to keep us in its grips forever. I am able to acknowledge more of it with each passing day and I am having less nightmares. There are still bad days but I will get through it.
At the end of this post, I wonder the purpose of this entry. But I guess, I shouldn't always worry about the intention. Some days, it is sufficient that we just write without filtering. Perhaps one day, I may make sense of this post. For today, I shall just make do with the knowledge I just needed a "rant".
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Again
"I can't afford another meltdown"
- a self-warning to be careful as NOT to slip again.
I say this each time I seem to be recovering, seem to be getting back on my feet.
Each time I start a new job, when all seems so hopeful.Yet, I still fall.
And when I'm down again in my darkest hole, the thought of giving all up, "I can't do this again" will be on replay.
And yet, here I am.
I'm still here.I will climb back up again.
I will fall again.
I can do this.Again.
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Latest Entry
✸ Positive Vibes ❇☆❈
1 Corinthians 10:13
" There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."
Who is to say that life is easy? It's not. And I'm so thankful for my journey or for my hard times or for all that pain and trauma I underwent, because pain isn't permanent ( neither is our happiness ). Yes, my life I had some cleaning to do. I had to clean my past out and put permanent barriers on the toxic people in my life. Yes for the past eight months after my break up and the following downward spiral, I am now able to say that I am coping and have recovered the capacity to move ahead.
I blocked my ex on all social media, I do not need him anymore, I ignore him in school and spend more time with people who make me happy. I have gotten 85% out of 100% for my First Terminal Examinations. I'm doing okay, but for the next exam I'm gonna do better. And I've learnt how to not let my education or school come in the way of my actual learning. I have used my phone to do some other learning like conducting a research on the food we eat and how GMO is bad for us and stuff like that and now I feel more awake. And maybe someday I might do a blog on "Food" solely.
I put away all bad habits like watching TV and binge eating and stuff like that away ( it took me two years, just so you know). I love being a productive person now performing to the best of my abilities and all this credit, I do not bestow upon my hardwork but only to Jesus Christ. Yes, through prayer and 8 months of moving in and out of depression I finally feel like Jesus Christ has a plan for me and things are going okay. I don't want to be successful or rich or own large estates or find another partner. No, I just want to spend my time with God and learn and learn and share and share and share everything I've learnt. Jesus Christ makes me happy, he fills up all my voids and my wounds and I will exalt his name and glorify him in all my works that I do. If I'm in pain I will suffer with gladness for I know my Lord will lift me and restore me his joy. If I'm brought to shame, and mocked and brought low, I will endure it for the righteousness of the Lord and his mercy endure forever.
I do not care if people think me a fool for believing so abundantly in Christ, for I am a fool for Christ and as for these people telling me I'm too holy like my classmates who smoke pan and get laid and tarnish their reputation at their own hands because they do not understand the wrong in their doing, I do pity them. But nevertheless, I remember the days in which I too, was once like them and so I seek the Lord in prayer to open their eyes and hearts for them to see and understand the world they are living in. They do not know what they are doing. And I do not make a show of being holy, I only boast in my Lord for his wonders are awesome! For without Christ, I am nothing but dirt. Just dirt.
So I would like to add here that when I was a fool for the things of the world, the alcohol, the clothes, the money, the reputation and the food which was bad for my health, I only suffered everyday and became desolate in my being.
But now that I am a fool for Christ, I thirst no more for these things, except for my Lord and my spirit is filled even if my body grows weary. I am filled and there's nothing more I want.
:)
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DF
There are people here in indescribable pain, yet they write things that are so profoundly touching and illuminating. Every day I read things that touch my heart and I just want to wrap my arms around each author and cry with them. In my heart, I do.
I think about you when I'm at work., or the hospital or when I'm doing artwork. Through all of your pain, you make me aware of how much tenderness exists in the world. Thank you all for being in my life, for inspiring me, for being kind to me and above all, staying true.
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Dream: Maynard; Hangar; Trash
I'm in a huge hangar with the singer Maynard. It contains all the garbage that we have thrown away in the past, including food left overs.
There is no odour. For this reason I say it's a good thing the climate is not tropical.
I find a shirt. It's not beautiful, and looks a little wrinkled, yet I encourage Maynard to replace the one he is wearing with it.
He accepts. He doesn't want me to look while he changes, while saying jokingly that he cast spells so that I wouldn't be able to see.
Interpretation:
I'm regressing and adopting behaviours and thoughts that I had rejected in the past as parasitic. - 309
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Waves Of Isolation.
As the mist rolls in above, this empty silence echos erily. In knowing you, my friend, i felt a little less alone. The rough sea of life, treacherous, but survivable. You were a calming wave of energy, a positive influence & I adored you from the start. You reflected the lightness of clear skies, you had battled darkness too, knowing and understanding how it felt to tread blue waters. I let you in, my beautiful friend, unaware, your rip current was about to pull apart everything i am. Does a promise mean nothing, are you not saddened at the loss of this friendship?
Im not innocent, i know. The waves of anxiety clutching too tight, i cling to positivity and beauty, suffocating everything else in its wake. To loose you is hurting more than anything i have ever known. Whats worse, to think that you left willingly or to aknowledge that i pushed too hard. Truth, they are one and the same and its kiling me being ghosted by you. Am i disposable enough for you to give up on completley? So defective your willing to just walk away, confirming every worthless thought i have about myself. My heart believed you better than that, but my head misjudged you, foolishly.
This fog of isolation chokes me, each time i surface through the tears, struggling to catch my breath. Relentlessly beaten, sinking down to the murkey depths, drowniing in the cold, bleak, darkness of depression. Soon to be a shipwreck, for each moment passing, we are decaying & my heart saddens to think of you. Alone again im lost at sea, battling waves and navigating stormclouds, an empty reflection where hope once dared to stand.
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Blog #4 -Really suicidal rn
I've been more suicidal for the past couple of days than usual and right now its really bad and I kinda feel like I should be in a hospital but instead I am avoiding my feelings and drew this instead and that's probably not healthy but ok
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My Use of Prescribed Medication (Prozac) I
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My Use of Prescribed Medication (Prozac) I
This is my first entry regarding the use of medication throughout my life
on Aug 24, 2017I have been trying to organize this blog the best way I can, however, ideas come and go pretty fast, faster than I can write them down on my laptop. One topic that I wanted to talk about was my history with the medicine I have been prescribed and used. Sometimes I have used medicine with no prescription, I will explain that later. Here I am not trying to hide anything nor encourage people to do what I do. It is just a recognition and compilation of my experience with treatment drugs and what went wrong or good.
As a child and adolescent, I went to a psychologist a couple of times. It was not my choice. The first time a teacher in Elementary school suggested I should go to visit a psychologist (second grade). I went there a few times. It was fine and fun. The second time was in Elementary school too, probably fourth grade; it was stupid because the phycologist helped me doing my homework while in session. The third time was during my late adolescent. My father suggested I needed to see a specialist. I am not discussing family affairs; I prefer to keep them in private. So I went to the same specialist was seeing my father: wrong idea and unethical. He was a psychiatrist and a psychoanalysis follower, wrong idea. He was fine, very good to me, he is now dead. Great man, a very sensible one. He did not tell me I suffer from Depression, at that time I was nineteen years old. I was very immature and had many behavioral issues with my parents. He wanted me to take medicine because he saw me crying in session. I heard that medicine for crazy people becomes an addiction, so I said no. That was probably in 1991 or 1992. Since then nothing happened. I knew I had anxiety and had my blue days but nothing out of the ordinary.
It was later on, in 1999 that my first crisis knocked out my door without even asking, without being invited. I knew a woman called Rosita that had a husband who was a Psychiatry. I was alone in the states, in Saint Louis MO. I graduated from Webster University and all my international student friends left the states for their respective country of origin. I had only one friend that remained in Saint Louis and he was working and studying at the time. So I was completely alone. I was not going back to Peru because I wanted to work there. As days went by I felt lonelier than ever. I tried to go out for walks at the mall. I got paralyzed; all of a sudden I did not want to go out. I stayed home watching TV and movies. During the day was fine, in contrast, at night I felt paranoid. I started feeling pain in my chest. Images of my past came to my mind and I started to cry like a baby. Please remember that I don't do drugs and I wasn't doing drugs at the time. I used to drink alcohol on weekends, that's all. So I had no other stimulants in my blood so as to worry about a downfall or the abstinence effect. Everything was fine with my health. At night I could hear voices chattering on the other room, it was crazy because I was alone. The second day I went to Rosita's house and knocked at her door. Nobody was there. I wrote a note and left my phone number (no cell phones at the time). They called me back a few days later; they were on a trip to Chicago to see their son and nephew. Anyway, they asked me to drop by the next day. Her Husband Luis Schwartz (both Peruvians who immigrated to the USA, Luis as a refuge and Rosita for working reasons) was already an old man, almost retired from his career. He talked to me and asked me questions about my family tree and my past. I explained to him the reason I was there: the voices and the crying. He said that I was bipolar. He suggested I take Prozac, so I did it diligently. He said to come back in a week. I was better, but that is another story to tell.
Prozac (Fluoxetine)
My story with Prozac at that time was short. I took it for about six months or so. I don't remember exactly, it was more than 17 years ago. I always try to be specific with time and accurate although those many years of drugs might have taken a bit of my memory. I was fine, I was really doing well. It was a miracle after all that pain in my chest and erratic emotions that made my life a nightmare and miserable. I wanted to end it all: the suffering and pain.
However, after a few months, I had a relationship not quite a typical one with a girl born in Panama. She was gorgeous, a little bit of a borderline case, but hey, who am I to judge. We were not together as girlfriend-boyfriend. Back in my country that is what we were supposed to do. But in Saint Louis things were different. We were back and forth for several months until something happened that to this day I don't understand. Well … I do, I was crazy. To make the story short I was not aroused as before, I was young and that was important. I told Luis about it and he rapidly suggested another drug. I said yes, let's do it. He asked me if I wanted to take Viagra, those were the first years of that drug and was practically experimental. I read that it was not safe so I refused. I also read about Prozac and the liabilities suits it gave to its owners because young kids were dying after they were prescribed Prozac. I was afraid of that; on the contrary, I was ready to accept it to avoid my miserable life with such a crisis. I did not want to live that again, never ever. I read that Fluoxetine becomes addictive and that after a few years it loses its effects, but as you see I took the risk.
It is not that I was only thinking about sex. My sex life started very late. I thought I can't leave that subject idle. Sex is important; it is part of our lives especially when we are young. If there was a substitution for Fluoxetine I was willing to give it a try. And there was one. Luis told me about another drug that performed better in that matter. So I left Prozac for Paxil.
Another issue with Prozac was that I was feeling a little bit like an automaton, maybe I am exaggerating but I have the idea that this tablet was taking my freedom, my initiative, and my creativity. I was not a writer yet but I had the seed because I used to write in my Diary and write a few short stories once in a while, nothing serious, just when I felt like doing so.
Years later I keep thinking the same way, that medicine will take my creativity away, bad mistake. Whenever I left my medicine for one reason or another I ended up having serious emotional problems, leading to a depressive mood. Bad decision my friends.- Read more...
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Shower Tears
I cried so hard in the shower last night that my eyes are swollen today. I can't even put on my trademark raccoon eye make-up (thick black eyeliner, black eyeshadow, layers of black mascara). They hurt.
I sat in the bottom of my shower with the water spraying in my eyes, crying. I saw blood. I thought about blood. The water, in my mind, turned red. The walls seeped with blood. I heard the word BLOOD over and over and over in my head. I suppressed a scream so loud it would have burst my ear drums.
Last weekend I went up north. I thought it was what I needed. It wasn't. What I needed was to go into the woods and let out that scream. I needed to punch trees and tear leaves off branches. I needed to be alone and dig blindly through dirt, ripping up roots.
I NEEDED TO DESTROY THESE THOUGHTS. I NEEDED TO HURT TRUTH AND SOMETHING REAL. The forest is indestructible. It could have handled me.The trees will survive me. My decade long relationship with my soul mate will not.
I am denying the urge to cut. I can not cut. I will not cut. But my eyes hurt so bad. I put spoons in the freezer to make cold so I can put them on my eyes to help the swelling. The pain of my eyes though are nothing compared to what is on the inside.
Something needs to change. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know whats wrong with me. Whats wrong with me. What do I do. How does this end. I don't know what to do.
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End of the line
What do you have to do to get help ? Tried asking have jumped through all the hoops tried all the utter bollox suggestions all the useless candy they call medication offered and all to find out that in the end it doesn't even matter as the song says.
Today I went back to the mental health team yet again and met the most condescending b!tch ever to spawn up from hell (oh and some goober on training sat in the corner). Long story short the only doctor ever to give me a possible answer said he thinks aspergers but neither he nor my GP can make the 'official' diagnosis and after years of trying every antidepressant under the sun my GP can also not prescribe anything above that - both need a psychiatrist.
But can I see one ?
Well first it's back through the mental health team apparently, the utterly useless ones that are keeping me spinning between pillar and post all asking the same questions over & over offering no help BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT QUALIFIED TOO and am sorry but being lectured on 'healthy lifestyles' by some of these creatures who probably can't even get to their car without a Green Peace escort for fear of Japanese whaling boats..
So to wrap up after being told am not making her "job easy" by getting frustrated am told it could be aspergers/autism scale or a personality disorder and that she'll put me down to see a psychiatrist BUT HE MIGHT REFUSE TO SEE ME.
Yeah..
Oh and bonus even if it's diagnosed as autism side there's only one support group in the area and it's not great and if it's a personality disorder then there's nothing available at all.
So where do you go what do you do when well and truly no one give a flying fcuk.
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Why I am a failure
I've been told I am not a failure by quite a few good people on df.
The thing is I KNOW I am a failure. Here's why.
I'm as insecure and with as little self esteem at 51 as I was at 15. I began to realize then how I wasn't really cut out for school or for anything else for that matter. I wasn't good at anything. Though I half heartedly sticked to studying or whatever hobby that happened to catch my lack-lustre interest, I was never more than lower average in anything I did. I never quite enjoyed anything either. I know now, after countless interrupted courses and open university studies, after applying countless times to university, I don't have what it takes. I've failed to get a decent degree.
I've only managed to get blue collar dead end jobs that don't interest me. Jobs with no prospects or chances for promotion or even doing something else more interesting. Nowadays I'm getting too old to get a new job. Age discrimination and the fact I'm not exactly headhunter stuff. Failure.
I've never found out what I want to do. What I like. Who I am. Hobbies. Yes done it, been there got the t-shirt. Nothing sticks. I have no skills or any aptitude for anything. I have no lasting interests or a passion for anything. No drive at all. Nothing seems to carry significance in my life. It is as if I was dead inside. I think I am. So failure in knowing myself. No connection. I just plod on like some preprogrammed automaton.
No true connection with people either as I feel uncomfortable around people after prolonged exposure (more than an hour). I've spent four years totally alone in my life when I was in my twenties. No dates(hated dating anyhow. My experiences were so..artificial and ..honest truth I just hated it. It wasn't an issue though as no one was ultimately intererested in me. It was a sad time in my life and made me even more sure I wasn't worth much.
I.ve never had a true spark in any of the few relationships I've had. Not even my current one that has lasted 20 years. I pretty much ended up with someone who would just have me. I feel alienated from my few friends I have. No true connection. I.feel isolated even in company. So I suck at "people" too.
We are constantly being told from self help guides and whatnot how the feelings of inadequacy and not being enough are lies your inner critic whispers to us. Not so in my case. I am clearly not enough. Inadequacy is like a thread throughout my life.
I have failed at all the the things that are important. But most of all I have failed at one thing. I've failed at living a satisfactory life I can be proud of.
I am a failure.
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