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DeeBear

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About DeeBear

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  • Birthday 10/12/1972

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Mississippi
  • Interests
    My interests were old cars, reading, sci fi, and tropical plants. Now it's just recovery.

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  1. DeeBear

    Done

    I know exactly how you feel. Feelin' it right now.
  2. I love 55-56 Chryslers and Desotos. One of the most beautiful body styles ever, especially the 56 models with the larger fins. Oh God, the phone... I hate it when the phone rings. I wouldn't have one at all if it weren't necessary in today's world. I couldn't have said it better...
  3. I used to hate "The Office" because it gave me flashbacks. Most of the characters I worked for were almost as smart as the ones on that show, but they were much more hateful and conniving. I can laugh about it now. Mostly. I had several horrible bosses, and a couple of great ones. It's a completely different workplace when you have a terrible boss. For me, the trigger is a knock at the door. I sometimes freak out when I hear a knock on t.v. It's terrible to have to deal with that at work. BTW, love the 56 Desoto ragtop!
  4. Thanks for reading guys. I never used to understand that quote because I was often distracting myself with things I wanted to do, but now... I'm exhausted and I don't function anywhere near as highly as I used to. Now it makes sense to me, unfortunately.
  5. The past is never far from my thoughts. Whenever my concentration falters, some memory crawls out of the back of my mind, spreading through my grey matter like an ink stain. I watch the past expand behind me, while the future has shrunken away to almost nothing. I feel completely used up. Tired of living. Nothing left to give, and nothing left to do but wait. "Depression is the inability to construct a future" - Rollo May I never understood that quote until now. My depression seems different now, I'm unable to see a future where I am happy, and all I can think of is all the things that are behind me. The only future I can construct is one where I am paralyzed by all my regrets. I keep feeling like I'm not going to live much longer, so why bother. I'm not planning anything, I just feel like my time's up. When your past is nothing but regrets, it's hard to have hope for the future. Nothing left but sunsets, pills, worries, bills, and pain.
  6. Another death in the family. And I'm torn inside. It was sudden and unexpected. We knew he was sick but didn't know he was this close to the end. And now there are a lot of family issues that will never be resolved. I'm nervous, I'm tired... I haven't been sleeping well, and have been having lots of indigestion. I told my doc that I had lowered one of my meds, and that I had seen my suicidal ideation decline so I felt I was going in the right direction, but the anxiety... It's chickening me. And I'd bet it's the source of my indigestion. I've also been very fatigued, sleeping all day some days, but never feeling rested. I'm exhausted all day, every day, and yet I'm anxious, but on the higher dose, all I could do was think of suicide, and I was nervous anyway. I just wish I could disappear. I don't think that I'll never feel good again. I'll never be free from all of this. I'm scared. I'll never find happiness. My only escape from anhedonia is when I'm miserable, or asleep. I always wake up, though. Every morning, the sun has come up and I still feel like everything is black. Blacker than black. Like cave darkness. All day, every day, stumbling through cave darkness, falling down, getting up, falling down, getting up... I'm tired of dragging myself up again. I guess I'll just lay here a while and have panic attacks about whether or not to go to the funeral, and how to keep from dropping my marbles all over the place in front of all those people. There is a place beyond tired, beyond sad, beyond nervous, beyond black, beyond hope. And I don't remember how to get out of here.
  7. So here I am again. My nerves are shot. So my friend A, who had an accident and totaled the truck I sold her, has taken responsibility for the accident, but the other lady in the accident has hired a lawyer and apparently is going to go after me. I get it. She needs a car to get to work, and hers was totaled too. Looks like she's taking it all the way to court, but I don't know how I'll pay a judgement against me. I've been trying to get my finances back on track and I'm barely getting by, and this happens. A keeps saying it's all on her, but the court may not see it that way. I've tried to be honest and work with them, but they're going to take it from someone. I don't think A would throw me under the bus, but I'm afraid she'll hide out and leave me holding the bag. Anxiety. I get it. I got it. And it's eating me alive. I keep asking myself why I bother doing the right thing. It gets me nowhere. I used to think that if I tried to be a good person, good things would happen to me. Now I have come to realize that no matter what I do, bad things will happen. I wonder sometimes if I was a horrible person in a previous life, if I deserve to have bad things happen to me. I feel like I deserve it. Every little thing that I've done wrong stays in my memory forever, and the good things are either forgotten, or never enough. Maybe I should focus on the good, but the good is never good enough, and the bad will haunt me forever. I wish I could disappear. I almost have for the most part, since most people I've known have forgotten me and moved on with their lives. It's nice to be able to go shopping and know that no one will speak to me, but I wish that I had moved on with my life. I'm still the same old broken person I've always been. At least I don't have to answer all the questions, like "Are you married?" or "Where are you working now?" It's taken the pressure off, being forgotten, but I wish that I had answers to those questions anyway. Maybe I just wanted to be forgotten so I wouldn't feel bad about not making any progress in this life. I feel like that Little River Band song, "Lonesome Loser". Only I don't really feel lonesome any more. I've settled into being alone and it's only when I put myself out there that I get hurt and feel lonesome. I don't do that much anymore, and I don't miss that pain, but it seems that no matter what I do, I'm going to hurt. At least this way, nobody sees how broken I am, and I don't feel so ashamed. I feel like I hid it well for most of my life, but as I get older, it's gotten harder to hide, and I don't want anyone to see it. So here I sit, rotting away from the inside. I wish I could move on, but the past keeps playing in my head, over and over. I guess if my life ever flashes before my eyes, I'll be bored because it's all re-runs and sad endings. And watching everyone else ride off into the sunset but me.
  8. I sold a truck to a friend of mine a couple of years ago because she needed reliable transportation. I even made her a good deal on it. She is a good friend who has similar challenges, and I trusted her. In the meantime, she lost the title, found the title, got insurance through an abusive boyfriend, got out of the relationship and moved back to her home state, and was involved in an accident in which the truck and the other driver's car were totaled. And the other driver has already hired a lawyer and claiming hearing loss and other injuries. And I just found out that she never titled the truck in her name so now it's going to fall back on me cuz I can't find the bill of sale. And I'm getting phone calls from the police and the other driver, and probably soon will be hearing from the other driver's attorney. I'm panicking and in tears. My life will never get better. I'm so sick of it all.
  9. Usually, the sights of Spring lift my mood and provide a welcome relief from the winter gloom, but not this year. The wild violets are blooming in the yard, but all I can do is stare at them and feel empty. I see something funny, and though I can fake a smile, or laughter, there's no feeling behind it. I just can't feel the spectrum of emotions I should be able to. I'm either in a major depressive episode which is really, really bad, my meds have pooped out. I don't know which. All I do know is that I'm tired of fighting this. *************************************Trigger Warning: Suicidal Ideation********************************** I keep feeling like nothing will ever change, that it's always going to be this way. Even if I get better, it's all going to happen again. The fight just keeps getting harder, and maybe I've found the point where I just can't fight anymore. I'm too tired. Maybe this is how people feel when they've bobbed up and down in the water as long as they can, and they just can't fight their way back up again. At the same time, it's more than just being tired, it's also the knowledge that there's nothing "up there" worth the struggle. No matter what I do, this life is nothing but the struggle and the pain. Joy is forever out of reach. I keep imagining ways of dying. That's not new, I've always struggled with those thoughts, but they seem more insistent when I'm down. It's hard to focus on anything to distract myself, so whenever my mind wanders, there come the thoughts again. Never quick and merciful, just graphic, violent, messy, painful ways to die. The stuff of nightmares. Curiously, I very rarely have graphic nightmares. Just graphic daydreams. I have to be awake to have nightmares. Sometimes it all seems like a nightmare. *****Update***** I slept most of the day. I woke up feeling a little better for a while, but I'm crying again. I'm wonderinf if there may be a self inflicted reason I feel this way. For a long time, I tookturmeric, cumin, cayenne pepper, and black pepper each day religiously, and it seemed to help my fibro pain. I've cut back the last couple of months and now I wonder if that may be a contributing factor. I also cut back on tobacco, but have been unable to quit because I get anxious. I'm hoping these changes may be all I need to work on, and that I may not have to go through the whole medication-go-round again. And again. And again. And........
  10. I'm so tired of the struggle. I think my meds may have pooped out on me...it's hard to tell for sure. I feel like I've reached a dead end in life, but there's no going back, I'm just stuck here. Wherever here is. I can't find pleasure in anything. I can't feel happy. I can't laugh - not genuinely, anyway. I've learned to laugh convincingly enough to fool others, but I can't feel it. I feel dead inside. Hopeless. I don't want to feel this way. I don't want the intrusive thoughts. I don't want the pills and the doctors. I want to be free from all my baggage, but no matter how hard I try, I can't lose it. It's woven into the fiber of my being, and I don't know who I'd be without it, but I wish I could find out. I have a purpose in life, but that purpose is chickening me. I've helped several elderly family members in their last years, and I still have a great aunt that I visit and help out, but she'll soon be 89, and hasn't been doing very well. After that, I'll help my parents. After that... I'll probably need a lot of help myself, but I don't have anyone in my life who will be there. I let a friend stay with me last fall when she was going through a hard time, and I discovered that I just can't live with someone around me all the time, even someone I like and care about. The only company that doesn't make me anxious and depressed is my dog. People freak me out too much. The thought of needing help when I get older terrifies me. And I'm getting there quickly. Maybe the time will pass quickly enough that it's not so hard, but I'm afraid it will seem like forever. As I get older, time seems to crawl and fly by at the same time. The days seem to last forever, and yet the next thing I know, another week has gone by, and I have to look at my phone or my computer to tell me what day it is. It's so strange... And I keep remembering the past, reliving all of my wasted opportunities, all of the people who probably don't even remember me, the mistakes I've made, the people who are gone from my life forever... I wouldn't want to go back for anything, and yet I feel like I'm the greatest failure in the world for all the stupid mistakes I've made. I don't want to go back and relive them, I just wish I had done things differently, and I can't stop the endless reel of "lowlights" from my past playing in my head. I wish I could forget so much, but some things are burned in my memory, and while I forget what I did yesterday, those decades old memories are still as vivid in my memory as if they just happened. I wish I could remember yesterday and forget those decades old memories instead, but that's not how it works. Pain sticks with you, always there, the loyal companion that will not leave you no matter what. It's happiness that's fickle, that runs away every chance it gets. I went to Wal-Mart Saturday, and I was reminded of how crowds affect me. I couldn't sleep until somewhere between 3 and 4 a.m. Sunday morning. I can't tolerate company for long, and I certainly can't take being in a crowd. I wish I could find that pill that would completely cure me, but it doesn't exist. Counseling has proven useless to me, because I'm not going to open up to a counselor, I'm too introverted and I'm just not going to share everything, so that's just a waste of money for me, and one I can't afford anyway. I tried, I really did, but when I did open up, I was hurt more than I was helped. Long story short, every time I shared something that bothered me, I was told that it wasn't as bad as I was describing, and that all I needed was someone to complain to about my job. Like there was nothing wrong with me but work related stress. I wish that was true. The job is long gone now, and I'm certainly not better. I've been going through the motions today, and have gotten a few things done, but all I want to do is sleep. I don't feel any joy in accomplishing anything at all, I just feel tired. Maybe I'll just give up and go to bed. It's not going to get any better today, for sure. Tomorrow's not looking good, either.
  11. I spent yesterday freaking out because my satellite went out and I flipped out over having a repairman come to the house. I don't like people in my house at all. The visit went well, though, it's just the anticipation of some random stranger coming to the house that freaks me out. It freaks me out when my own family comes, so strangers really freak me out. I took an extra anxiety pill yesterday but still, I couldn't shake the fear. I hate fear, but fear loves me. It must, it spends so much time interfering in my life. I couldn't sleep last night, and ended up too tired to get too anxious today, I guess. That seems to be my pattern. Something overwhelms me, I get exhausted and plod through, and then collapse. Until next time. This afternoon, I took a nap on the couch to make up for the sleep I didn't get last night, only to dream about losing my grandparents and breaking down crying. Even in my dreams I can't get past the pain. I was in counseling from the time my grandmother passed until well after my grandfather passed, and it didn't help. I'm just lost... I mean, how do I move on when there's nowhere to move to? Life is nothing but an endless trail of sadness. Tomorrows pass so quickly into yesterdays that it hardly seems worth the trouble to ask what day it is. In my broken mind, the present ceases to exist. It's just as unreal as the past that no longer is, and the future that has yet to come.
  12. Thank you for reading, and thank you even more for writing. I am so tired of all of this.
  13. That scream is caught in my throat again, the one that I can't let out. It's too big, it just won't come. Instead, it chokes me. I can't breathe. If I could unhinge my jaw, reach down my throat and stretch my windpipe as wide as it would go, I still wouldn't be able to breathe. And the scream still would not come. It can't. It's bigger than me even though it's inside me, pushing, pushing, pushing... But it's stuck. It doesn't want out. It's happy stretching me as far as it can. I want to scream a scream that has never been screamed before. I want to scream a scream that vaporizes everything around me. I want to scream a scream that collapses my lungs and implodes my chest, turning my ribs to dust. I want to scream until I'm too tired to breathe. I want to scream a scream that drowns out the entire world. I want to scream a scream that shocks everything into silence. I want to scream until I have spent the last ounce of energy in my body. I want to scream myself out of existence. And then, I want to relax in the silence that follows, I want to finally rest like I have never rested before. I want to let it all out so that I can have peace. But I can't. It won't come. It won't come out. It won't drive away the pain, it won't silence the noise, it won't give me the relief I want so badly. It just doesn't work that way. I don't think I will ever know peace. I just want to stop hurting, but I never will. I want to turn it all off. I want to shut everything down and rest, but the pain won't let me. I want to feel joy and happiness, but all that's left is the pain. I don't know what to do, I've done everything I can to fight this, but I am so sick of fighting. I just want it to go away and leave me alone, but it won't. It's like the worst devil I can imagine, laughing while it watches me burn. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I keep thinking of the saying, "Better the devil you know", but I can't help thinking that the devils I don't know can't be this bad. But I don't know. I'm stuck with the one I have. And it won't leave me be. Whatever I did to deserve this, I am truly sorry. Maybe this is my hell. I just wish I could scream that scream and get it out, but it doesn't work that way. It never gets better and it never will.
  14. It's been a little over two years now since my grandpa passed, and it's as if my heart broke for good. I'm making no progress at all. There is no way forward. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, there is only the light above my head, shining down into the cold and clammy hole I'm in, in long, thin grey streaks, stretching through the darkness, giving no warmth or comfort. Those rays are just a reminder that somewhere up there, somewhere I can't reach, there is light and laughter and hope, but there's no way out. I can't get there from here. And along comes another Christmas. Every year the family would gather at my grandpa's house, but that is no more. The new owners are keeping the place up nicely, though they're not living in it yet. They have decorated the place for the holidays, and it just reminds me of the loss every time I drive past, and I must drive past his house, or travel miles out of my way. Maybe I should, if only for this holiday season, but I'm not sure it would help. Going the other route only serves as a reminder that it hurts driving past that house. It's not going away. There's no healing, there's not even the chance for the wounds to scab over before they are mercilessly ripped open again. I have even considered trying counseling again, but I don't see any way it could help from past experience. My introverted nature prevents me from opening up to therapists, and even when I do, they try to change the subject. Nobody wants a fat, ugly, middle aged man crying in their office. I can't go through it again. I can't sit and listen to their problems and I can't open up when they redirect the conversation every time I start talking about what I'm dealing with. That's not therapy, it's avoidance. No, I can't find any reason to believe it would help. I'm tired of living. I'm just waiting for it to be over. I suck at life and I just can't find the courage or the energy to try again. I'm used up. A dead battery. In a hazmat truck on my way to the toxic waste dump. In the slow lane. Coasting. Painfully. Forever.
  15. I hate the term "depression." Those who have no exposure to it seem to think it's just being sad, and I think that's why many people think it's just some politically correct, touchy-feely term for someone just feeling sorry for themselves. For me, the anxiety that comes along with it is far worse than the sadness. The occasional anhedonia, which is to me a blessing, is also a part of the disease. Depression is just one part of a complicated web of symptoms. "Mood disorder" comes much closer to the truth. I'm having anxiety tonight, far worse than I've experienced in a long time. I feel like I'm teetering on the brink of a panic attack - and I have to see my cardiologist tomorrow for a checkup. Not good. I already have a mild case of "white coat syndrome," and knowing I'll have to deal with that tomorrow is bad enough, but if this episode of anxiety hasn't dissipated, it's going to be extremely difficult. I haven't been able to calm down enough to get to sleep, which will also make things worse... Maybe it's situational. I often have anxiety before big changes in life, and I'll very soon be dealing with that. My grandfather's house has been on the market for a while, and a buyer is supposed to be closing on it this week. I've been hoping it would sell, just so I could get it over with. Like ripping off a band-aid quickly so that it won't hurt as bad. Unfortunately, I don't think anything can make it easier in this case. I spent a lot of time in that house, and it's always felt like home. There was a welcoming warmth to that house, unlike any other place I've been. When my grandmother passed away, the energy of that house changed, but it was still there. Now that my grandpa's gone, it's gone completely. It's now a cold, empty place that I dread stepping into. I guess the only thing I can think of that compares to that feeling is when you see someone who broke your heart. It's the same person, but the love is gone, and it brings back the pain of losing them. Time may heal all wounds, but it all too often leaves nasty scars that never go away. And when the weather changes, you hurt all over again. Losing my grandma was tough, but I still had my grandpa. Losing my grandpa broke my heart in a way that is indescribable. If I wasn't broken, if I wasn't dealing with my "mood disorder," I wonder if it would be easier to get over. I'll never know. Just like I'll never know peace of mind, healthy self esteem, or what it's like to not care too much. I guess at this point I'm just cruising through life in the hopes that it won't get worse. But it does. And it will.
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