Jump to content


  • Posts

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Lucerne

  1. I just wrote a really really long essay about my whole messy situation then erased it, there's no point in going on and on. Basically I'm in my second year of college. I can go down a few avenues. I can go to university and go into higher engineering (I'm in the low end spectrum), I can stay at my current college and ask to possibly go on a similar course, I can go into a different branch of building services, I can leave and go into an apprenticeship... That's pretty much it. I hate the course, I've never liked it much. Some aspects aren't too bad, others are dreadful. Last year I spend nearly every week the night before classes crying due to the stress, or simply vomiting and having panic attacks. This year is just as bad in its own way, except now I'm more used to the stress so I basically just get depressed and dread the days. I know deep down that I am doing what is right, and that there are certain avenues I can go down via the qualification I will have next year that I'm not too unhappy about, but damn if I don't hate the course. The students are okay mostly, the teachers are really nice, and the college itself is pretty okay... I just hate the physical work and the academic work (sounds silly, I know). I am not academically clever and learning very long formulas is hard for me to do. I've had a lot of issues in therapy, as the time where I have to move on draws near I get more and more angry. I am almost 18 and I am thrown out of child services, I will never see my psychologist again or see the receptionists or be under their care ever again. I'm expected to just be okay. I feel very angry, explosively so, and admittedly that anger has gotten too much recently during sessions. I was raised to be very polite, I don't raise my voice, swear or do anything of that nature. Yet in sessions I've swore and said some nasty things to the psychologist (I've either apologised directly then or phoned later), I've self harmed directly in front of him and I've got up and walked out. I left because I knew I was getting into a state where I'd react. I'm struggling a lot at the process of being dumped. I feel rejected, I feel upset that I care, I feel angry that I'm the only one who cares and I'm having to go through this in a couple months with no real alternative. I feel angry that I have nobody and I'm stuck with a doctor, I'm upset and very angry over how he's all I have and I'm losing somebody who does not return any of those feelings. Sometimes I just want to run away, cancel our sessions, change my number, forget he ever existed. Other times I know if I do this it will just repeat later in life, and that leaving situations that cause pain will just become my go to response in the future if I start now. I'm stuck feeling so conflicted I sometimes just want to rip my hair out. My future looks a mess, and added that I'm turning 18 and being left to deal with it all alone is even harder. I feel so alone and worthless, I have nothing. I'm going through all this suffering and pain for a piece of paper with my diploma on it, for a future I don't even want to live in. I'm about to become an official adult and there's nothing good waiting for me, it's all gone to hell. I'm sick of existing.
  2. I went through the whole abandonment hell as a kid, mother abandoned me, father died, mother abandoned me again, relative who took me in basically was of the opinion no hugging, no saying i love you, no talking to one another, etc. I worked with a lot of different people from 11 years +. Charity workers, Counselors, therapists, mental health nurses, etc. Many had a very negative impact on me, a lot of the advice given to me was very bland and generic, a couple kept thinking I was lying and trying to catch me out, others judged me based on what I said, and others left pretty quickly after 8 weeks since we had "completed" therapy. I got sick of it and stopped trying for several months, but eventually I hit 16 and thought I would be out of the child system and into the adult one, so I went to a GP asking for medication. I was told I had to see a child psychiatrist to be given medication so I agreed to go along. The first person I saw was a psychiatrist. I had him for almost a year, we've only got a couple sessions left until we end. At first I didn't want it to end, and I became attached, but I managed to get on with it and ended up feeling okay to end it. I was referred to a psychologist who was my caseworker (and I had only met a handful of times) over self destructive habits, and I admitted to having an issue with former memories. He offered to do EMDR therapy with me and I've been seeing him for a few months now, and I feel a lot better. He's referred me to a dietitian over my restricted eating habits. Referred me back to my GP several times over dangerous things I've done to myself. He took me to a supermarket and educated me on all the foods, he's offered to send me to a number of different services to get more help for certain things (crisis places basically). He encouraged me to get angry, going as far as to try and get me to throw water on him when I got angry, and encouraged me to cry if I wanted to. He phoned my college a couple days ago after I had a panic attack and failed an exam, explaining I wasn't acting up but that I had a number of problems relating to groups of people. I phoned the office up and he phoned back whilst I was in college and kept me on the phone for 20 minutes talking to me and getting me to calm down, offering to see me that very day. I mentioned it was my fathers anniversary in a few days, he offered to take me to a gallery or a coffee shop or do something I wanted to do, whatever it was. He speaks about how he does care about me and his other patients, showing me all the stuff his former patients gave him which are littered around the room on show, he remembers all their stories and everything about the people who gave him the toys. He seemed a little offended when I implied he didn't care about me, even jokingly saying he thinks of me even on weekends, and that he truly does care about all his patients. Yet I know I can't see him once March begins next year because I'll turn 18. He's said so himself, there is no way we can see each other again. He said he'd try to find somebody to take over but it's very hard around here, I don't think it's possible. I feel a complete mess because I found somebody after years of this who actually listened to me, treated me like I was a normal human being and believed me. He says we have a lot of time left, it doesn't feel that long to me. I feel angry, very angry and I know I'm projecting it onto him. I've not said anything but he can tell I get angry when he says how he thinks of me or says that he cares. He asks why I get angry and why I feel like that and I just say it's fine, eventually he drops it when he sees I'm getting angrier and more scared. I feel so ashamed at how bad my reaction is. I've never felt so much self loathing and hatred for somebody else who didn't deserve it. It hurts more to think that he actually does care than imagining he's just some psychologist who's in it for the money, at least then I can comfort myself by saying that I'm glad it's finished. I can't do the "I'm glad I experienced it" route, this is too painful knowing it will end soon. I'm lost again, on my own again, I have nothing and nobody and I have to accept over and over that people jump into my life and then right back out. I don't want to be angry and I don't want to feel infuriated, terrified and betrayed, because that is nobody's fault and has nothing to do with him. Even with the psychiatrist I had, I never connected with him to quite this level, my psychologist is far more responsive and human. I just feel really depressed. Each week drags on and I get more panicked knowing my 18th birthday is getting closer. I have no idea how to find a way to manage this.
  3. I lost people and had some slightly difficult things transpire in my early childhood, it left me with a lot of trust issues and a fear of being abandoned. Therapy has helped as well as acknowledging I hated having nothing and nobody in my life. I met a girl at college and within the last 2 weeks we literally got very close. We texted every day, we went out together, she even went to therapy with me and waited for over an hour. She took an interest in my mood, in my thoughts and feelings and accepted me for all my strange quirks and behaviours. I hugged her, I held her hand, stroked her hair. I let her get into bed with me, I let her sit beside me, I held her in bed and let her rest her head on my chest. I kissed her. A new form of therapy began 3 weeks ago over a bad experience I had years ago and it (the therapy) changed how I viewed things. I was willing to do anything to conquer my fear because I acknowledged I was limiting my life. But later on that day when all this physical comforting happened she said she wasn't ready to date, she was too scared. She seemed to feel guilty and wanted to leave the house and she wants some space. I have no issues with what she said, I would much rather her be honest than the alternative. It just hurt that I did all this stuff with somebody and a couple hours later, even whilst lying beside me she said she wasn't ready. I wish that she'd have brought it up earlier, we'd been talking about taking it slow for a few days and she said she was okay and even happy about it repeatedly. Maybe she only really realised afterwards she wasn't ready, I'm not sure. Either way, she did what I wanted her to do, always be honest and voice her feelings. I feel very lost and I have no idea why. I can't really understand why I'm so upset, it's not necessarily the rejection but more about being so close to somebody, physically and emotionally, and how quickly it went from good to bad. I even feel angry, not at her but at the fact I let it get so serious in literally 2 weeks of being friends, that is not something I would ever do. I'm trying to see the positives in my experience, that therapy has obviously helped me conquer my fear of being touched and my fear of abandonment and rejection since I was willing to put myself out there, instigate things and open up to somebody. I just wish I hadn't gone as far as I did, I wish I hadn't let her into my room and into my bed, that place is my only sanctuary and I feel really uncomfortable about it. I'm not really sure if this is the best place for this. I'm not really sure how to cope with this, despite everything it has triggered my depression and anxiety and I have been in a terrible mood. I remember being abandoned, losing people to death, being assaulted, being treated terribly and this despite it obviously not being the same makes me feel in a similar way.
  4. I had a unpleasant experience in my early teens that left me with anxiety over being touched, especially so on the lower back or near the shoulders. I had flashbacks and nightmares so often that I completely removed all potential triggers in my life. Certain things were a bit out of my control, I couldn't help flinching when somebody went to touch my shoulder or back and I genuinely found sitting directly beside people very difficult. . It has been on my mind recently due to a new trigger. I've had issues sleeping and when I've managed to get a few hours I'm having quite bad nightmares. Meditation has proved to be extremely difficult due to the memories resurfacing in quite clear and disturbing ways. All in all trying to deal with this has been unpleasant and I've struggled. My psychologist suggested I may have PTSD if I'm having flashbacks and starting to remember everything really clearly. Today I had to go to hospital over a unrelated issue. The doctor had to examine me in places such as my bikini line, my neck, my shoulders and my lower back. I have never had a physical examination like this before and I have not let anybody touch my back. She seemed surprised that I was so clueless on what she wanted to do. I was a wreck when she told me she had to touch my lower back. I was holding my t-shirt up a little and started hyperventilating. I have panic attacks every day so I'm used to hyperventilating but I really struggled with this. The memory resurfaced the way it always does except this time I was genuinely being touched which freaked me out further and further. By the time she got to my neck I my hands were shaking and I had tensed up, I was even whispering under my breath over and over again, I'm sure she thought I was insane. I'm not really somebody who cries much, especially in public. I wasn't raised to show my emotions like that. I'm sad to say that I left the that part of the hospital a wreck. By the time I got near my house I was starting to cry because I felt so terrible. The whole situation made me feel silly and I have no idea what to do.
  5. The abnormality is a high white blood cell count which they tested me for twice at my local dr surgery. I had a blood test 2 years ago when I was 15 and it said the same thing, though nothing became of it and I was diagnosed at the time with hypothyroidism (I am borderline now so I'll likely need to be placed on medication again in the next year or so). But this time the doctor was concerned. Anyways, I won't prattle on about it. I have a hospital appointment on the third of July at 9:15 in the morning. I have to see a blood specialist at a hospital about 5 miles away which I've never been to. Nothing was said on the letter I received except asking me to fill out information and saying my tests when I get there could take up to 2 hours. It has really terrified me. I have no idea what they want to do. I have had a phobia of needles ever since I was a kid but since I've had to have so many blood tests over the years I can manage it, but it still brings out a terrible nauseous feeling. Are they going to make me run on the spot, are they going to check my blood pressure (which is high at 140/99 typically), am I going to get more blood tests? What possible tests could take up to 2 hours, does that even apply to me? I read online the reasons this could be. It can be a sign for some really serious stuff. This isn't the best place to post this, I'm not asking for advice on the blood issue obviously, I'm asking advice on my anxiety over going to the hospital. I mentioned it to my grandfather who offered to go with me and I may take him up on that offer since nobody else will go with me. My guardian thinks I'm too old to have somebody go with me to hospital and I should basically grow up. It's playing on my mind what it could be. I assumed it was to do with the self injury wounds I've had in the past and what I have so far, but it doesn't seem that likely from what I've heard so far. I'm really scared about this. I have a terrible fear of doctors and hospitals and of being touched. I don't know if I'm going to be examined or if I'm going to be touched or looked at, it's bringing out a panic attack in me thinking about it. Just really scared at the moment.
  6. Firstly let me say that I'm a pretty naive and socially stunted individual. I didn't go to high school and went straight from a special needs unit to college. I'm a very introverted and private individual, I'd even describe myself as being a pretty insular person. In an attempt to force myself out of my social anxiety (What if I look weird? What if everybody laughs, what do I do??) I walked up to a boy I recognised from speaking to briefly months earlier and began talking to him. I controlled my breathing, kept a smile on my face, and behaved in a very charismatic and sweet way, and it wasn't so bad. We share similar interests and really got on. We didn't speak for long in college but we shared each others number and we've texted each other several times since we first properly met just 2 weeks ago. I got a message last night that basically read "Would you be mine? (I don't even understand that, I've never heard that phrase before, it sounds very strange and even a little juvenile) I can't stand being single again". Maybe I'm just immature, or naive, but my first thought when I saw that message was how insulting it was. Once I got past the "why would somebody ask me to date them because they don't want to be alone? Am I that devoid of any other redeeming trait" I started thinking about how I'm completely and utterly not ready for a relationship. Sounds very strange for me to write, but I don't want to enter a physical relationship, at all, I have no interest in it right now. The worst thing is, I have no idea where we both stand. I don't know what I am to him, an ego boost? A means to an end of his own loneliness? It's actually put me in a pretty bad mood, I was so convinced in myself that no person would want to date me, no person would be interested in me in that way, that it comes as a pretty horrible shock to suddenly have that illusion shattered, I've never had to deal with something like this before. And yeah, it kinda hurts that the first time I really get asked to be with somebody it's asked in such an insulting way. I dunno, I just don't see how I can put a positive spin on the last bit of his sentence. So it's put me in a bit of a funk, not only has it completely shattered my security net, it's made me feel pretty damn horrible. At the age of 17 I've not exactly had much experiences in life the way he as a 24 year old has. Eh, it sounds stupid but it's been bothering me all day. I don't want to have to deal with this, why on earth would I get a message like this after only 2 weeks of knowing one another? I don't even know what he wants from me, he barely knows me, how can you like somebody after just 2 weeks of texting? Why is it bothering me so much that he's put me in this situation, I'm actually angry at having to deal with something like this. I didn't think this would happen to me for at the very least several years. I know it's not a big issue but it's really bothering me.
  7. Of course, he put it in a gentler, politer way. But yeah, I was feeling better, kind of moving on from certain things that have happened in my past. Wasn't as bitter about this, wasn't as upset about that, felt much more settled about numerous issues regarding my past. That was it, that was the improvement, there has not been anything else changing, it's simply coming to terms with a few parts of my childhood. And yeah, he mentioned it to me about 2 thirds into our session. The strange thing about me (and I can't really work what if this is normal, or this is strange, or it's just me) once people, anybody at all that are even remotely close to, mention leaving permanently I go... Off. That includes those kind of people that hint at you that they're going to go away (they don't say this though, it's all very passive aggressive) because you've not paid enough attention to them. I think I picked it up from my mother, whenever I said anything that was against her at all, she lost the plot and basically told me to f off. I developed the same attitude, a little less feisty though. With me, I go very cold. I will never ever show these types of emotions to people, I will never let them see my pain, my suffering, even my anger. Anything that shows anything real, any emotion anybody can exploit? I won't show it, ever. It came from when my mother would say mean things, insulting me, waiting for my response, it was my response she wanted, my tears or my sadness. The one time she saw me react in anger she threatened to physically harm me should I even attempt to harm her, and it became ingrained into me to never react in any way. It's gotten to the point I just blankly smile and nod along, I cannot react in any other way if I care about the person. If I don't care about the person, then this reaction doesn't happen and I do react in anger. I feel pathetic at showing emotion and find it difficult to utter the words 'I need you' to anybody when it comes to emotional stuff. I won't cry or speak seriously about my feelings. I also lose any interest in the person, and I dislike them. I have no desire to see them ever again because I feel 'rejected' or 'abandoned' and I will never, ever tell them how I feel, because I am terrified of anybody getting close enough to see this. I liked my psychiatrist, I even had transference feelings for him, I looked forward to seeing him, it helped to have this session to look forward to, I convinced myself without realising that I had somebody that cared. Now I actually don't want to go. During the session I simply looked at him and never reacted, normally he reacts to my mood changes or my expressions but he didn't this time, probably because it was not noticable, but I stopped initiating conversation and didn't really look at him, carried on smiling after a few minutes. I feel repulsed by the idea of seeing him, terrified, it's almost become a phobia for me to see him now because the terror of it is down right horrible. The worst thing is I've been seeing him for several months so he's used to me, and he's worked with others so he's probably more aware at picking things up like this, so it's even more terrifying trying to hide behind this facade and act like everything is okay. It's not only that I'm terrified of expressing any emotion to him, I actively don't want to and simply wish therapy had ended there and then, even if it would have really messed me up for weeks afterwards, having to go through 'the end' sessions is even harder, it's prolonging the inevitable, it's making it harder for me to hide this emotion. It's strange really. Now that this has been brought to my attention, it's made me completely close up, I actively do not want to go at all, I do not want to ever see him again. Silly really, but I'm terrified of him seeing this terror, I am terrified of telling anybody. I knew therapy had to end soon, I even knew it would come up in the next few sessions, I just never expected it to feel like this, I actually feel hurt by it, it's so silly and I hate admitting I feel anything. The whole logic aspect to it I completely get. I know he gets paid to hear me, I know he actually doesn't feel anything for me, I know he has his opinions of me whether or not they're bad I have no idea. I actively know that my feelings for him are not for him, I know that this is a genuine thing that happens in therapy, I know that the time has come to end this therapy. I just have no idea how to cope, I'm not only having to face hiding all this because I'm unable to express it and horrified and repulsed by the idea of doing so, I'm having to accept soon enough there won't be anybody there anymore, there will simply be nothing, nobody there, nothing to look forward to. Just when I knew I needed therapy most when the summer holidays come and it gets really lonely, this happens. I don't have any idea how to cope with this pain, at least in a way that doesn't affect anybody else, it's nobody's fault including the psychiatrist's that I'm like this.
  8. I don't actually think I'm allowed to say specifics about stuff like that. It's a common painkiller that you can buy at supermarkets, each pill has 500mg of paracetamol in and 8 mg of a painkiller. Like a normal teenager I took things like aspirin or paracetamol for headaches, sometimes taking 2 or even 3 and saying "It's just one more, it can't harm me". One day I complained of a headache when I was 15. I'd been kicked out of my home a few months earlier and moved in with my uncle and grandmother. Hearing me complain before school about a headache she casually passed me a packet of painkillers. I found out much later that she'd accidentely given me prescription painkillers. Rather than having a dose of 8/500 per pill I was now taking 30/500. It was a strange experience when I took 2 of them, I felt extremely off.... Off focus, I struggled to keep my head up and I actually felt very strange, I can't even explain it, I just felt relaxed in the sense that nothing could make me anxious or depressed, but I wasn't happy, I just felt empty. For a teenager suffering with chronic anxiety and depression it was pleasant. I took a few here and there, and started working my way up. I would take 4 of these prescription painkillers and then spent half an hour feeling incredibly ill. Occasionally I'd manage to walk to the bathroom and suddenly vomit it all up. I didn't care and never gave it much thought, just continued taking them. At one point over a year ago I was on occasion taking between 5-10. At one point I'd taken 10 and started seeing things move, and then at one point I took 7 and fell asleep, and woke up a couple hours later vomiting. I continued to sleep most of the day besides waking up to vomit, and after that I suffered cramps in my stomach after even taking one of these painkillers. Yet I still continued, not as often. I went through a a box of 100 in 6 weeks, I only took these painkillers at high school and never on weekends. In case you haven't realised, by this point I was stealing them off family who I knew didn't use them. I justified it by saying that they didn't use it and it just sat there, but it doesn't really matter, I still did it. About 5 weeks ago I drank a bottle of alcohol and took 4, spent the day in pain. I took one today just so the anxiety would stop, I took 2 last week, that's how it goes. I have a couple packets (say 12 all together) in different bags or drawers, and there's about 30 or 40 downstairs that nobody would notice disappearing. I've had blood in the last couple of weeks saying that besides the odd issue with my thyroid (genetic) and a high white blood cell count, everything is normal. My psychiatrist, case worker and gp know, and besides telling me more about what the painkiller was and how it worked (and explained why I have certain symptoms) as it's an opiate he didn't say anything and just advised me not to take so many. Today I was looking for something in my bag and saw them and I kept thinking about it and feeling so anxious so I took one. I can still feel the affects 2 hours later off just 1 painkiller. I'm scared about anyone finding out, my family despise people who take drugs and have disowned people over it and I would be disowned if they knew, I've taken so many risks that I don't know how they've never noticed the painkillers disappearing. I share the same GP as the relative I'm taking the painkillers off, so it's only a matter of time before the GP realises how I'm getting a hold of them as I refused to give him much information on it. I'm scared that I'm slowly becoming dependent on it, and that despite how much I hate the symptoms I still take them. I have no idea what to do. Sorry about posting so often lately, it's nice to finally write this out.
  9. You know what, for the last 5 minutes I was trying to find a way to nicely explain the area of my weight but you know what? Let's just be honest, I'm not likely to get ridiculously shamed here. I'm 5'7, I weigh... I think about 220lbs. In legs I'm usually a (British) size 14 and I'm not that sure about t-shirts because my t-shirts are from the mens section but I'm a large typically. I usually get XL because I like baggy clothes, but L fits me fine usually. I already know I'm quite far in the obese section, I can't ignore it anymore, I've let my weight creep up steadily through my early teenage years and just went further into denial. I cannot do it anymore. I cannot face another year of being this weight and size. I'm not even looking towards being thin or slim or anything, I'm just looking to get my weight down and far away from obese. I'm looking to be physically fit, being able to actually run a couple miles rather than just jog a few. Be able to carry heavy things (required for my college course) and not struggle so much. Over the last few months I've tried doing the odd thing to make my diet less bad. I've started replacing things like coca cola with other fizzy, non sugar drinks or sparkling water. Stopped drinking juices that are loaded with sugar so often. Used less sugar in my coffees and even stopped drinking that more than a couple times a week. I actually need to start doing intense exercise to lose weight and I actively need to eat regularly and better food. The strangest thing is that I'm actually scared by this. I'm scared of trying and giving up, and scared of doing it alone, silly isn't it. I don't have any money to join groups though I'm lucky to have a gym room in the house I live in. I just wish I wasn't doing this alone, it's harder doing it without a laugh or without somebody with you to help motivate you a little. I really need to lose weight I cannot live another year like this. Any advice about anything including weight loss would be most appreciated.
  10. This a thread about being positive then? Okay, I can do positive, burning with the power of a million burning suns kind of positive. It is currently 9:18 and I'm enjoying some lovely opera styled composed music as I finish filling in my dodgy eyebrows. It is going to be a fantastic day despite the sky resembling a prison wall. If I have to skip down the road to Duran Duran I shall, if I need to smile at every dreary face that I see I will. Today I visit family and chat whilst reading the newspaper, drinking diet coca cola and eating their cereal! And then off to the busy streets of the city's centre to see my psychiatrist and offload onto him all the bad sides and the good sides of recent life. I had blood tests conducted and thankfully I do not have hypothyroidism nor diabetes! The only issue is a high white blood cell count, meaning more blood tests, but I don't mind. I'm considering donating blood, and there is a sign around here asking for a bone marrow transplant, I may try and find it on my way back and see if I can get tested, you never know who may be a match.
  11. I'm usually reluctant to say I have a phobia for X or Y because a phobia is more extreme than just a little niggling fear. This phobia didn't affect my life that much in the past weirdly. I'd say it started to affect my life from about 7 years onwards. My family were never weird about my body, they didn't say nasty stuff or comment on it, it was just something in my mind that became transfixed on certain parts of my body. I would be extremely anxious at the idea of somebody seeing my shoulders for instance, because at the age of 7 I was convinced I was sexualising myself, silly right? My actual thought process was "I'm making myself look sexy, I can't do it!" By the time I was 11 years old my legs were covered always. For very brief moments in my life from between 10-14 I occasionally wore pants that cut off just below the knee, I at one point started wearing skirts for school (uniform) that stopped just above the knee, but that lasted a few days before going back to black school pants. By the time I was 13 I was wearing mesh gloves attached to a t-shirt styled jacket (I was a little into the alternative clothes) so there was only a small portion of my upper arms visible before the gloves covered my skin. This became so common that I was known for my gloves, I wore them in class, I wore them going to the shop, it was my identity and I never took them off until I was in the house. The fear went as far as to my chest, I wear t-shirts, I am unable to show my chest when going out, I simply cannot get over it. It has been years since anybody has seen my legs, I get anxious at simply showing my ankles, leaving me to wear ankle boots or shoes with a high back and front. I struggle to even show my arms off and it can take me several minutes of intense internal debate to take my jacket off, and that's if I'm sitting in classroom or a waiting room, outside in the street is impossible. I still am unable to show my shoulders, only a few relatives have seen my shoulders in rare encounters such as getting out of the shower/bath, or momentarily taking my jacket off to wash dishes, that kind of thing. I'll be perfectly honest, I'm on the overweight side, increasing my anxiety on it, though I've had this anxiety back when I was thin. I have stretchmarks from gaining and losing weight dramatically as well as hitting a growth spurt. I am literally covered in them. I have intense scarring on my arms, legs, chest and shoulders through self injury. It's quite obvious that it's self injury too and it starts from my hand to my elbow, and begins again near my shoulder. I know this makes the fear much worse, it's the main reason I struggle these days, it's the worry of people seeing them, even though its' unlikely to be commented on. Oh, and I also have PCOS causing excessive hair growth, though if anybody where to look at my body, I could just shave or wax, it's mostly the scars that bother me, the stretchmarks don't even get me that down, even the weight doesn't as much, the scars have affected this fear more dramatically than anything else. It didn't bother me much growing up because nobody was really going to see a lot of my body, I didn't do sports so never had to change in front of people, in college I change privately, in the shower or bath I don't look at myself and keep the door barricaded. But now I'm 17 and what worries me is, how am I even going to be able to kiss somebody when taking my jacket off in front of people causes a panic attack, and the idea of a guy seeing the scars on the rest of my body, or simply touching my bare shoulder sends me into an intense anxiety episode. This fear is so bad that I am very particular on my clothes, and nobody in my family is able to see most parts of my body. Dating is not going to work with this kind of fear, if I can't even let my family see parts of my body without at least feeling anxious, how can I cope with a guy I've been going out with for a couple of dates? Any suggestions on how to combat this anxiety? I'll just write a quick little recap, the parts of my body that are a no no are my ankles, legs, shoulders, stomach, chest (even upper chest). I can cope showing my arms for brief moments like in a classroom or in a waiting room, but it's hard for me.
  12. I've always considered myself to be a really good neighbour, no loud music on all day and night, no shouting and no banging things around (at least at an ungodly hour). However today I have a glam rock music blasting so loud there is a possibility they may be able to hear, but I'm not that bothered, they play a mixture of rap and pop music way louder than this, so they can handle rock music for an hour or so. Have you ever felt so guilty at the possibility of ending your life, it's become your sole reason not to do it? I've felt so guilty at the bare notion of leaving my family to deal with what I've left behind I've spent hours wanting to scream from the depression. Instead, I swallow painkillers to toxic levels, self harm so severely I'm lucky to not desperately need stitches all under my t-shirt and pants. Why do I stay? I wonder about the games I'll never get to play, will George r.r Martin ever finish that book series? Will the game The Last Of Us actually be made into a movie? Will Telltale release another Walking Dead game? I'm sitting around each day trying to survive to wait for a chance of having some new entertainment that will keep me occupied from anything from 1 hour to 30 hours, and i'll go away, and I'll latch onto something new that may be years away. I wait and wait, convincing myself that there is something I need to experience or see before everything ends. Naturally being rather curious this keeps me going when my hatred for my family becomes so overwhelming guilt doesn't even penetrate. I stay out of love for my family and throughout that I resent them all, mostly because they make no effort to talk to me, no effort to see me, they don't want to ever see me, talk to me, do anything with me. The simple act of being in the same room of them seems to repulse a few members of my family, instead I'm the freak who sits upstairs unseen, kept around because of promises and because they have as an obligation as family, I'm just a guilt trip to them. The family who live with me now can't wait to throw me out at 18 and rid their hands of me because in their eyes, they filled out their obligations as family and promises they made. I stick around for family who don't want me in their life, they just want me alive so they don't have to feel bad. Get out, I'm going, goodbye, no.... I hear all this stuff all the time, my mother always claims she needs to get her bath so she can get off the phone with me, but over half the time she never answers the phone or gets in touch. My sister is the exact same, the rest of my family are similar. I have no friends, I don't date for obvious reasons. I sit around wondering when I'll finally hate those around me so much I'll consider dong it as an act of vengeance, because all I feel now is bitterness. Yet despite all this, I can't blame them for who I am, for what I am, for what I was, and what I will be. I made my decisions, I have to live with it, can I really blame them for seeing me as I am? I don't even know how I'm going to get through the next hour, can I honestly say that's how bad I feel today? That's how rejected I feel by everybody, the people I worshiped, the people who saved me, the people who spewed sh1t about how much they loved me, then threw me out like garbage and pretended all was well. Am I fighting for my life now, am I supposed to fight for myself and say screw them? What about if I don't want to live and never felt the pain was worth it, what then?
  13. I can deposit several hugs for anybody who needs them.
  14. I need a very loving, very strong hug, with 3 comforting, soft pats on the back. And maybe a few extra pats if I sniffle. I'll offer more hugs when I'm happy in a few days.
  15. I've had A lot of experiences like this before, dozens. Some were just really... Messed up? Weirdly it was the more rude and overtly disrespectful comments that got to me, the messed up ones were easy to discard. It took me a while to get passed it. Often I'd shut the screen down feeling really nauseous and upset, or sometimes really angry. Have I got an answer that's perfect for you? No. For me, it was recognising that the individual had either done, or felt, or was the following: A) Become obsessed or fixated with a statement of mine and spend several minutes writing to tell me why I was wrong, and how I had to change, and how stupid I was for XX or YY. They obviously had nothing better to do with their time than harrass me or send me messages that were rude. B) Were unable to simply disagree with my statement and leave it at that. They also weren't intelligent or polite enough to attempt to argue my case, instead resorting to rude, or sometimes condescending messages. C) They were so obsessed with looking better than I that they spent their time making me look stupid in front of others. Obviously there are more reactions out there, but they were the ones I run into myself. Some people can be messaging you meaning it to sound quite polite but it ends up looking rude or argumentative, other times they have no idea how else to communicate, and sometimes that's just the way they like to talk. I usually just ignored it, or if I was really angry and felt like they wanted a reaction, I simply wrote "K". I wouldn't suggest trying to message them, it often goes nowhere beyond angering yourself. The best thing you can do is ignore it, only the weirder people will repeatedly message you wanting a response, and when that occurs, it's easy to realise that you're the better for simply leaving it. I get where you're coming from, and I know how difficult it is to stop yourself from going down into a spiral. Similar things have happened to me even recently, some leave me in such a bad mood I have to remove myself from the internet for a day to get my head around it, sometimes I've been unable to revisit websites for several weeks after. If you need to talk about this or anything else you can PM me. I hope you feel better soon.
  16. Let's start of by saying as soon as I saw my name on the letter, I started having a panic attack, luckily it's calmed down a little since logging into this forum. I have a psychiatrist who I've had for the last 6 months or so, and I turned 17 recently. The laws of confidentiality forbid any of my information being passed to anybody (as we've all heard) unless I am in danger or a danger to others. Unless this occurs they aren't allowed to talk to my family either. So my reason for being reported? I take small ovedoses. Very small, but they're prescription based and I've taken them off people. I try and convince myself I'm not a awful person by saying that the people I'm stealing off don't use them, but either way I am breaking the law. These are medications you can buy over the counter, just this dosage is higher. Nobody but my psychiatrist was aware of this. He felt it was necessary to report this information to a senior psychologist, the man in charge of making sure that I'm safe and that there are no issues in therapy, my case worker basically. So the psychologist told me that he felt he had to report it to a GP. A week or so ago I received a copy of the letter sent explaining that I take small overdoses, sometimes often sometimes several weeks apart. He also explained I would on occasion have pain in my stomach, that I could feel incredibly itchy after taking this medication, and I had at one point started vomiting whilst asleep a year ago (I've only had pain since then). The letter also talked about my self injury, and about me finding the subjects difficult to talk about, and being very reluctant to seek help. He was nice enough however to add that he felt I should have a regular GP. The letter that arrived just minutes ago was from one GP saying he/she was now my GP, and that he worked on tuesdays and wednesdays. It says that he/she would like me to make an appointment to come and see them. I have a deep deep bitterness for the medical community. I have worked with several different people over the years. I have worked with counselors, therapists and mental health nurses. Over the years I've struggled to hold back my hostility for the damage they caused to my life (which was significant). It has gotten to the point that even in certain sessions with my psychiatrist I have become hostile when the topic of my past comes up. I have apologised if I've ever said anything that could be misconstrued as a personal attack against him, but I have explained that I hold them accountable for at least the part damage that occurred in my life. I am an adult now and I can't hold them accountable for everything, I am aware of this, but I still remember the damage they inflicted on me. I will never forgive a particular GP, a particular set of Mental health nurses and a Therapist for the choices they made about my life. Think refusing to help me after suicide attempts, removing me from my special needs school due to them receiving a bonus (money) to get us out, being asked the same question repeatedly over and over at just 11 years old to be caught out on a 'lie', leaving me panic ridden at answering any questions relating to my personal feelings, and that's just half of it. I have no interest in seeing the GP, in fact over the last few weeks I have put it out of my mind. I would rather live in denial and forget about the appointment, but the fact I received this letter today means they'll likely call me up at my house in the next few weeks if I don't make an appointment. I don't even know how to make an appointment. I would guess to call up, but I have college on tuesdays and wednesdays, I have no idea what to do. I want to bury my head in the sand, but I'm afraid of the consequences of what may happen if I continue to do so. I don't know how to cope with this, what to do, how to go about this.
  17. I have to be in the 'exam' for 8 hours, but I'll have breaks so we're talking averagely it being 6 and a half hours long, but I'm still spending the entire day in this room with the equipment, and I'll still spend 6-7 hours actually doing the exam. It's a physical exam. I'll be using this shoddy hacksaw provided and I'll have to cut steel pipes to size. There is a lot more to it of course, this is just the very first step, but I'm unaware of what else we'll be doing, beyond some wiring. There will be 9 of us in total on tuesday, in our own 'bays' with our own equipment and our own walls, etc etc. In all brutal honesty, I am not good at this stuff. We have not actually practised with this particular material, and so we're just getting told what day and time to enter, told to get changed and start the exam. I know last weeks group, who are a fair amount better than I am, all struggled and in the end were paired together, so it comforts me that if I struggle badly, I won't be the only one. I can't get any sleep, I can't stop thinking about it. My pulse is going up and down and as soon as I remember the exam, it shoots up. I'm horrified, I'm petrified, I'm so anxious in fact I can't even get depressed over it, there's just too much panic. I can't practise as I don't have the materials, and I am unaware of the extent of what we're doing. I've tried bringing it up with other people online, but the advice I've had is either drink tea, or not think about it, which really isn't very helpful. All I can do is try and convince myself it will be fine, and to calm down and get through the next few days. I know deep down that it'll be fine, I'm just really really not looking forward to it, I'm dreading it so much. I don't have much confidence, but I am aware I am not the best, and I am in perhaps the worse half of the group, but so far I've not done too bad. I've had to ask for help on certain things, but at least half of the other students have had as much help. I'm embarrassed about how hard I find it. I'm embarrassed about how hard I find it to saw I've tried to identify what it is that is bothering me so much, as I know I won't fail the exam, and I know that if I can't get it done, my teacher will help me. I think that because I genuinely despise parts of this work, and I've never done it before and I've had to wait weeks knowing about the exam, not being able to prepare for it, and knowing the thing I hate (sawing with a hacksaw) is a main part of the exam, i think all this has made me grow more scared as I've waited to find out which group I'm in for the exam. My god, my head is a wreck worrying about this. Because of my anxiety, I often have panic attacks, causing my hands to shake and sweat to run down my face and neck. This happens every week since I'v been here, but I've never been this worried about an exam or about any day. I think if I'd only known about it for a few days it'd have been easier, but the stress has been building for weeks. I don't want to come across stupid to my fellow classmates, I don't want to fall madly behind, and I don't want anybody to know how much I'm struggling. I hate how much I've had to ask for help in the past, even though I know that many other students need help as much as I do, the vast majority in fact, it just makes me feel really anxious. I don't know how I'm going to be able to sleep tonight and tomorrow night.
  18. I found a nice place online to speak to people. It seemed nice, I'd been there for about a week, and it was a chatroom, I left a message asking if somebody could PM me. The subject I wanted to talk about was very triggering. I took all the precautions, asking them repeatedly if it were okay. I never ever mentioned any details, but they asked me for details, and so I gave them, and even then, I didn't go into specifics. You know, I really wanted to keep it relatively safe, I didn't think it was worth going into this subject in detail. It's a very traumatising memory for myself, I never talk about it, but I needed to talk about it. At some point they suddenly had to go. I got a message off a moderator saying I was talking about said subject inappropriately, and I was going into details. Well, actually no, there we no details. If anything, this individual I was speaking to was the one asking me the questions. He didn't even have the guts to tell me face to face, he just left, I think he blocked me, and I was reported to a mod. I wasn't happy that such a subject was told to somebody else, because if I can't talk about it and I choose to trust somebody, I don't want to be getting a message off somebody who knew what I was talking about. I could understand if this individual was reading me going into massive, painful detail, it can be triggering, I understand that. I really was careful, I did not want to upset or trigger, I just wanted somebody to listen. So I was reported and the subject was told to somebody else, because this individual couldn't just tell me he didn't want to talk about it anymore. There were no threats, I was in a very stable frame of mind, there genuinely was nothing triggering in what I wrote, and yet this happened, all of a sudden, out of nowhere. My trust was broken because this individual couldn't tell me they were uncomfortable or ask me to leave them alone. If I broke the rules, fair enough, but I did not, and I asked for permission several times, and they gave me their word they were fine, that they wouldn't judge me, and that they weren't upset by anything I was saying. It ruined my trust in a way that has ruined me. To finally speak about this years later, when everybody else has treated me awfully over it, to have it once again flung in my face. My trust broken and my 'secret' told to somebody else, and to even be warned about it. I did apologise to the Mod, and I did say thank you, but I explained the fact that I gave no details, and any details I gave where ones that he asked for, and even then, he asked for more details because my details weren't explicit enough, and trust me, I was careful. Some stranger messaging me bringing up this subject, throwing it in my face like that. I said my bit, apologised, and left. I don't want to be at a place where this happens, because the least this person could have done is tell me or just left, instead reporting me and blaming everything on me, not cool. It's got to the point I know now that nobody can be non judgmental, and treat me with any semblance of kindness. I now feel unable to talk about it, completely and utterly, because of this. I've had some stuff said to me, and I've had people treat me different, and I've had people give me odd looks, and ask inappropriate questions, but I've never had my secret told to somebody and had it flung in my face. Even if it is online, it still feels like a violation to my trust. I'm not going back to a place where I have people telling me they can be there for me, only to have it flung back in my face and be reported. If it were any other subject it wouldn't bother me, but to have this one thing I never talk about, ever, because of how ashamed I am . . . it's pretty much the worst thing that could have happened online. I can't even imagine why he did it, he was not bothered it seemed, he asked me questions, and I think he even said he'd not gone through anything of that nature, yet he decided to tell me he had to go, block me or whatever, and then report me.
  19. I'm certainly not the only one on this forum who has experienced loss. I would guess all of us have lost something important, such as a job or a course or money, or a pet or a friend or a relative, or a partner even. Have you ever looked back at your childhood and remembered an event where you behaved quite nasty, cruel or just thoughtless, and you look back with fresh, adult eyes and feel immense guilt? I have the odd memory of that. I have the vague memories of getting really upset with my mother when we couldn't go out due to her being in pain with her back when I was 11 (something I try not to think about because I feel bad for being snotty) and when I hung up on my sister who wanted to talk to me when I was also around 11-12. But there is one thing that is even harder to accept, when the person involved is no longer here to be told and apologised too. My father, as I've wrote countless times here, died when I was 12. We didn't see one another much, and as we all know as you get older you can drift away from your parents. I never drifted away persay, I just developed interests that were different to my father, I was into video games and reading whilst he was into movies at the cinema and going out. I remember how sad he looked when he remarked one day that "You only come down to play video games" and despite assuring him that was not the case, it certainly was. My relationship with my father was not developed well, my mother in her bitterness had made sure that the relationship was un salvageable. It was a few weeks before my father died, it may have been the last time it may not, I can't be certain due to my tendency to block out huge chunks of memories involving my father, but I remember being with him one afternoon and I was going to my grandmothers and we stood at the top of the street. I was 5'6 at 12, and he was 5'11, so there was not much of a height difference. He'd been drinking the night before, and whilst he didn't smell bad, I could smell traces of alcohol and vomit on him, and I halfheartedly refused to hug him. I don't think he said anything, I can't even remember the memory well enough, but that was the last memory of ever seeing my father. I remember the night he died I was going to text him, but I ended up not doing so because it would have been a waste of money, so I know I hadn't spoken to him for at least a week before he died. I know he died alone, I know that he died with people who didn't love him around him. I know he died on the garden floor surrounded by weeds and dog excrement. I know he was hit over the head before being killed. I was told he died instantly, but I can't even be sure whether I was told a lie to make me feel better, or he lived for a few seconds. He was a man who wanted to be loved and needed that reassurance, and ended up dating the wrong woman who treated both of us like hell. He knew hundreds of people and yet, after he died and after the funeral, nobody gave a damn and nobody ever bothered at the grave or with his family. He searched to be loved and I was the only person beyond his parents and siblings that could have offered him the love he craved, but I was too emotionally damaged to be able to truly show any love, and I can't be sure whether he was aware of that or not, and if he was he certainly wasn't intelligent enough to understand why that was the case. Due to money issues we slept in the same bed with one another from the time I was a young child of say 7, until the last time I saw him at 12, and I can't bare to even consider being in the same bed with somebody at night, and I still remember the first year when I'd occasionally reach out to take his hand and realise he wasn't there. As therapy continues, more memories resurface, because a lot of memories were completely blocked out, I even forgot huge chunks of the entire case of his death, and I have no idea why there were and are so many gaps in my memories. I can't help but feel guilt and sadness.
  20. So I have a psychiatrist, had him for a couple of months now and I quite like him, he's not difficult to talk to him. I've mentioned at times my past experiences with people in this field, and I know I sound bitter. He's kind of like "sometimes you do have bad experiences," you know what I mean? Very careful about what he's saying, and I feel like laughing because to me, it's an understatement. Weirdly he is part of CAMHS, but in a different city to where I grew up. Firstly I had a 'listener' aged 11. I said a number of worrying things, got to the point she recommended me see a thing called CAMHS (Children and adolescent mental health service). I used to live in a smaller town, went to a school with kids like me, nearly all of us (at least the original students) had all been assessed by CAMHS at least once, none of us (even the parents) had good things to say, and we all hated them. I saw a nurse who I hated. She kept smiling that fake smile and catching me out on words. I began stuttering when I realised she was carefully listening for what I was saying, and tried to catch me out on 'lies', and she'd glance at my Listener questioningly. Even my mother noticed what this nurse was doing. Overdosed to try and **** myself. I was only 11, I obviously had no idea what I was doing (sarcasm). I was signed off, I couldn't cope with the nurses questioning and her asking the same questions, worded differently. They just said "get her a blood test in the next week", it was never brought up again. At the time of my overdose I left education completely. Had a counselor, who gave me generic advice, never listened to what I said. I had agoraphobia? Just write a list of steps of scary stuff and have a go. I'm terrified to the point of panic attacks at certain foods? Have a go at eating them! Charity worker for a while, had her a couple of months, all of a sudden she says I no longer fit what the charity has to offer. She left suddenly, gone. Another overdose at 13. Went into hospital. A nurse of some kind looked at me, said I needed to go to a main hospital, and when mentioned by a teacher with me that I had self harm wounds on my arm, had a quick glance (I literally just raised my arm and she looked away from her chart) and looked back at her chart as she was putting it away and just said, "superficial". She didn't even write anything down. Doesn't sound like a big deal perhaps, but it really affected me. I remember how the nurses looked at me in the hospital. It was self inflicted so they didn't bother, only one actually spoke to me. I wasn't given any medication (which they're supposed to do) in the event of an overdose. I was then placed in a children's ward and had my pulse checked every 4 hours by a silent nurse who just grabbed me and didn't wake me, and never spoke to me. Saw a nurse the next day, spoke for 15 minutes, I was then released from hospital. Had an appointment with CAMHS a couple weeks later by a very tired nurse who said "Yes, you may have aspergers, we'll test you for it, you need help etc etc". Then a letter saying "I had enough support" (I had nothing) and that they weren't going to be involved with me again. Second suicide attempt and I was barely in the clinic for more than 20 or so minutes and they never bothered again. So finally a therapist was involved in my school, barely spoke to me but originally had said I'd had anxiety and I should stay at this special school. It was her word and she looked at me and then back at the room of people and said she saw no reason for me not to go back, we hadn't spoke in months by this point. So back I was, traveling to 2 different schools with severe anxiety. Doesn't matter how bad things were though, I was not allowed to ever talk about anything dark in class! I had to smile all the time, I was asked repeatedly what was wrong if I appeared tired or just not engaged. I had to speak, I had to conform, I had to act normal, and this was in the special school. You got into a very bad argument with your mother this morning? Go and talk to the boy who's mother put him into care, he deserves the real attention! And guess what? I was forced to talk to this boy and about his mother and his care home for that reason, simply so I could 'understand'. Oh, and being told over and over I had to go back this school, even got badgered on the 2 year anniversary of my father's death that I had to go in, no matter what, despite not actually saying anything to the contrary. Aged 15 I was kicked out of my house. I had to see a doctor and I was living a 2 hour bus ride away. Got there with a relative who took me in. She asked why my relative didn't drive, couldn't he get a car or learn? Couldn't they find somebody to take me the 15 or so miles back to school? Well okay, you don't need to leave the special school, you obviously need it and aren't ready to go back. Got a letter a few weeks later saying I had been removed by the special school and was expected to go back to the old high school because that GP had said so. Well I was now living in a new city. Was placed in a school of violent or angry students. I didn't have autism so my teachers didn't help. They grew tired, never wanted to know my problems, helped the other students who had autism after class, but basically fobbed me off when I asked for after school classes along side to catch up. They put me in for only half of my exam because they didn't give a damn and the teachers were too lazy, and I was never told this, I was lied, and it took months to get the exam results out of them. A teacher tried to help me by getting a nurse to see me. I was a bad self harmer, had scars all over me and was still self harming really badly. Guess what? She said she'd be in touch to 'help' me, and never got back in touch. Emails and voice mails were left, and she never ever bothered. Got involved with a partly run charity on my own accord. I was brought into a group of self harming teens my own age, but their self injury, as bad as this sounds, was small in comparison. These girls were there for an addiction to self harm, and I was the only one with any real addiction, I could tell that much within that session. Couldn't bare to sit with girls like this and hear the same stuff I heard at school. I expected too much I know. Got involved with a counselor for a while, didn't help much, same generic advice. I then had a guy who offered me CBT therapy, and was fine to speak to. I then got a phone call where he said he didn't want to give me that therapy, but that I should try a different kind of counseling and come back to him. He also said "I know you don't get much support off your dad" and he never paused as he realised he'd seen me a week earlier and we'd spoke in great length about the fact my dad was dead. He rambled on, I knew he'd forgotten a lot of what I'd said by the way he chose to word things. I went to a different counselor, and when that was finished he never got back in touch. And that is where I am today. I've worked with even more people than what I put down, and had a lot of bad experiences, but this is the main stuff. Am I supposed to forgive and forget? The psychiatrist asked me why I can't get past it, as if its that simple. It can't be that simple, because It happened that often. Has anybody else got . . . hell just anything to say? Anything at all?
  21. I try not to post on here all to often. I don't think I've ever once wrote on here twice in a day. I've just had a few tough weeks and since it's sunday (beginning of the week tomorrow) I'm a little more stressed and uptight than usual. So here is my question. Does anybody else wish that they could just hear somebody's voice? I've passed messages, emails and IM'S with people on a number of different websites, but it doesn't seem as real as it does to hear. I think it's almost like to hear somebody say something makes it seem like you're not as alone. Emails and messages are better due to the anonymity, but at the same time it's hard for it to truly feel real at times (and I mean that, only at times). Maybe it's due to the fact I'm used to spending a lot of time in silence and on my own, it feels weird (and very uplifting) to hear somebody ask you something, or to simply say "Good morning/afternoon/evening Rose". Ahh, I just want to see whether anybody can relate. And just to add, I know how nervous it is talking on the phone. I used to be terrified until I tried it a few times, now I quite prefer it.
  22. I don't even know if my title is grammatically correct, but my grammar was never exactly perfect. Anyways, I've been meaning to post this for several days but only now have I had the motivation to actually write anything. I'm aware of all the symptoms of depression and other similar disorders, not everybody sabotages everything, and some people just sabotage particular parts, etc etc, it's not clear cut and simple, self destruction is a pretty grey topic. I shall write a trigger warning now, because I'm quite graphic when I write (not terribly so), and I'm talking about self injury so it could be rather dark, and I'm certainly not condoning anything I'm writing, rather just explaining my train of thought. Ah, so an example? How about stapling your own skin just to try and 'feel' something and come to the conclusion the only thing you feel is the slight physical pain of shoving metal into your skin, but it's like a massage compared to nothing. How about spending time on 'chatrooms' to speak to people who obviously only want one thing, and because you feel empty and blank you do it, just to feel a little thrill? How about going mental and self harming to the point you're there for half an hour repeating it over and over to try and feel something, and once again the physical pain is at least something real. And what about when you're laughing, speaking with people in a self deprecating way as you just want to bash your head on the table over and over and over until you can feel something. What about blasting very loud, hateful music just to feel your heart race, because nothing else can make you feel anything, and closing your eyes against the constant banging of the angry song is hypnotizing. What about sleeping with somebody who you don't give a damn about to try and feel something, to realise afterwards you still feel nothing, and felt nothing throughout the entire thing. Depending on what kind of person you are, maybe, just maybe, you want to hurt somebody throughout intimate acts or be hurt in return, because after all you're supposed to feel something but pain is the only thing that is real, and the only thing that makes you feel. One minute you're laughing along and acting so normal like you have to, and in a second you're fantasizing about hurting yourself for no reason, just because you don't like who you are, and no matter how many times you explain to yourself you're not a bad person, you must be to feel this way. Eventually you look back at every act you've ever done and understand everything. And with the knowledge of why you did what you did, why you may be the way you are even, it still does not change. You still feel empty. You can laugh and even find things humourous and you can at times even feel happy, but the emptiness returns as well as the need to do something stupid. So you return and repeat the things you've always done, because you either know no different or knowing doesn't help, and you can't get past, and no matter how bad, shameful and painful things are, you just want to feel something. So you sit there crying silently, unable to feel anything, and imagine over and over in your head, all kinds of awful things happening to you, because pain is the only time you feel something. I guess a part of me wanted to write this down, and the other part wanted to hear from somebody who can grasp what I'm saying. Well, that's me anyways. If this is too graphic, it needs to be edited or removed, I completely understand. And if somebody does read it and thinks they'll be okay and ends up being triggered, I apologise profusely.
  23. This seems like a pretty good place to write what you've written, I wouldn't worry about it. What I would probably say first is not to withdraw from the course now. Did you start last year in September? If so, do you still feel the same about it? I think you've put too much emphasis on that first college. You certainly aren't a failure for being accepted to your second choice, but I can understand that a lot of people would at the very least be a little disheartened by their first choice not being accepted. So you've been getting told you'd be good at architecture? Well was this something you wanted to do or was it a matter of "Well Architecture doesn't sound that bad" or "There is nothing else for me so I may as well pick this?" I can't really tell from your post whether you're passionate about architecture or you've sort of been pushed/coerced into it, or you're somewhere in between. What do you think of the course itself? I'm not talking about the people but about the actual work? Do you enjoy it? Do you feel pretty neutral about it or do you really not like it? I think it's pretty normal to be quite scared or unsure, especially at first, but that it's bad enough you're considering leaving that suggests there's more to it than just nerves. What do you think of the college? If you're quite disheartened about being accepted to this college, maybe (and I hope this does not sound patronising, because that's not what I'm trying to get across) you've not given it a chance and the college is just like a symbol of what you deem a 'failure'. You managed to get onto a course (which isn't the easiest) at a college which is most likely decent. I'm not trying to underestimate your dreams, goals, and the disappointment, but the only thing I can say is to let go of that first college. As for your timetable screwing up the time you get to see your friends, all I can really say is when you next see them organise to all do something together. Friends can drift apart during new education and work and it isn't easy to get around, so it's just a situation of making the most of the little time you have, and making it memorable. I would say not to give up on the course totally. I'm not going to give you advice on whether to leave or to stay because that's not a decision I as a stranger can make (or anybody but you, I just have less right to say anything because I don't know you). But what I can say is that if you think about the above questions I've given you maybe you'll come to your own conclusion. It's not an easy situation to be in my friend. Trust me when I say that to some degree I understand how you feel.
  24. You put it so well, Lucerne, and basically wrote how I feel but couldn't find the words for. One of my relationships ultimately failed because of my ex's response to his depression and his unwillingness to better the situation. As someone who also has depression, I didn't expect him to magically heal or anything absurd like that. I only hoped that he wouldn't send flirty texts to co-workers to boost his self-esteem and would look into getting help for his problem drinking. He was not an alcoholic, or even much of a drinker, at all when we met. Later, he drank excessively and became very mean when he drank. I understood why he would drink, I turned to it at times too, but it was causing additional problems when we already had several. At the end of the day, he was reluctant to even try treatment, and never went to a single psychiatrist or therapist. I understood his skepticism and respected his right to do whatever he wanted with his own life but depressed me and depressed him just weren't compatible. Just to be clear if this sounds harsh, no single thing made the relationship fall apart and it didn't happen overnight. I didn't tantrum because he didn't want a specific type of treatment or had too much to drink a handful of times. It was a combination of things. Still wish the best for him, years later. As odd as it sounds, it's quite interesting to observe a relationship with two depressed people, because it's at that point you can truly see how much a personality can affect depression (as in, how we fight against it and how we cope with the little things in life that make us feel momentarily better, crutches basically). Despite being able to understand exactly how somebody else may feel, and able to logically understand (and of course emphasize) why a person behaves the way they do, it's hard to really do anything because at the end of the day we're responsible for ourselves and you're able to understand that there is nothing you can say to fix the issue. I can only imagine how hard it is to watch somebody with the same kind of 'problem' spiral down the ladder like that. No, you don't sound even remotely harsh by that. I would stand by somebody who were skeptical of therapy (hell, to a point I am) but when it begins to affect those around you, that's where it's no longer just your own issue, and when you're dating somebody you have an obligation to at least make an effort. What I've wrote may be quite harsh, and I'm not having a go at anybody in that situation because I truly do understand how difficult it can be and how hard it can be to control yourself, but if he wasn't trying in any other area and he simply was in the process of 'giving up', there really was nothing more you or anybody else could do. I'm not suggesting you do, but I've noticed quite a lot of people feel guilty about things like that. If that's the case and you do feel guilty, I can honestly say that I don't think you should feel guilty. It sounds like he really was struggling, and as harsh as it may sound when I say this, sometimes you just can't stick around, especially if you're struggling yourself.
  25. You brought up a good point here, there are two kinds of depressed people: those who want to recover still and those who are done. I'm in the latter, so I would also understand if even the majority of depressed people (those who want help) didn't want to be in a relationship with me because as you said at a certain point you would have to sacrifice your own mental health and that's not something I would want someone to have to do for me even if they wanted to. There would be people willing to make that sacrifice, but I don't think a lot of people understand how 'bad' it can get. I can recall all my very depressed episodes in perfect clarity, and I would not wish anybody who I loved to have to go through that with me. I am usually in the fighting place, I have not totally given up on life, but I am still in a place where I can simply turn and enter into blackness, and it would worry me to put somebody through that. There truly are people ignorant (or naive) enough to think their presence would change solve things, and then there are people who would fight against the world for me, and I wouldn't want to drag somebody down with me. It's not an act of altruism but an act of perfect logical clarity. If I loved somebody and cared for them, for me personally and that is just me personally, I would not drag them through the gates of hell to be with me. So I think we pretty much agree with one another. I feel like I should say something uplifting, but there isn't anything I can say is there?
  • Create New...