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liz2010

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About liz2010

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  1. I hope you had a fantastic day :)

  2. gumpasteflower, After reading all of your posts on this issue, I can't help but think of my own situation. I too feel that God is punishing me. I always feel that there's a dark, rainy cloud looming above me. No matter what I do or hard I try, things always seem to go bad. I began to think that God had abandoned me in my journey and let me venture on alone. However, there is a little bit of faith in you. It's waiting for you to discover it and once you do, you may see still see a dark cloud above you but at least the rain will stop. Let me tell you just a small bit of my story. I tried committing suicide at 17; I was crying for help from my family and no one was listening. As I look back on my teenage years, I was in a dark period, scared and alone. Some people would say that I had the perfect family: 2 loving married parents living in a middle-class neighborhood and usually getting what I wanted. However, all I ever wanted was for my mother to treat me the same way that she treats my older and young sister. I am stuck in the middle and as others have classified it, I have "middle child syndrome." I have cut off my younger sister from my life because I got sick of the bs and the s**t talking from her. I hated my older sister when I was younger and just when I thought that my relationship with both sisters had stabilized, the same thing happens with the younger one. It's hard going to my parents house and just trying to hang out and talk because the young one lives there. I'm literally at the end of the rope with my parents because they are convinced that I should make amends with the young one because "we're family." Why would I subject myself to that? I compare my family to driving down a block and getting shot at every time; if I know that every time I drive down that block that I am going to get shot at, why continue to go? I go because of my parents, trying to make them happy but what about me? Day in and day out I've struggled with the issues with my family and to add a cherry to the top, I can't have 'normal' relationships with men. I'm needy, emotional so I rely on a man. Bad move on my part. I look for comfort in a man because I feel that I never received that at home from my parents. I remember growing up and helping my mom clean the house on Saturday's - what about the other 2? Why did I have to clean and they got away with not doing anything? My mother still does not see what the big deal is. Her excuse, "well you've always been the neater one." Seriously? Just the other day I was over my parents house and my mom was hurrying up to make dinner because the young one was on her way home. She's 26 and relies heavily on my parents. It saddens me that my mother is so comforting with her but not with me. It hurts me that my mother can have long conversations with my older sister (who is married with 2 beautiful kids) yet when her and I go out for let's say lunch, we literally eat in silence. If this is the way they're treating me than why in the world did they have me? I feel like I am an emotional punch bag for them. It hurts because they say that "blood is thicker than water." I do not believe that at all, at least not in my instance. I've been depressed for 15 years and in those years, I have received hate letters, emails and voicemails from both sisters; I have been ridiculed by both of them in front of my parents. It sucks when you want to stand up for yourself in front of them but you can't seem to get the words out of your mouth. When I try, my throat gets choked up and the tears begin to stream down my face. They know that they hurt me yet no matter how hard I try to defend myself, I can't. That is why I have decided to cut off my young sister; in fact, I don't even feel like she's a part of me. It's sad that we're sisters and we despise each other. Yes I have made my share of mistakes with them both but not to the extent of what they have done to me. I'm not playing the victim card here, as they would say, I simply get beat up. They're the bullies in my life and no matter what I do or what I say, they will always have my parents support. I on the other hand, am all alone. I am 30, have my own home, have a great career and am currently on 225mg of Bupropion. Life seems stable right now for me, but the past still haunts me as it does to you. They emotionally abused me in front of my own parents while they sat back and watched. I mean, my older sister left me in Europe alone for 2 days at the age of 15! I'll never know why she did that. I can't let that go. I can't let go the fact that at 17 I was close to ending it (my mother denies that ever happened; she has mentally blocked that out). I can't let go the fact that I literally flunked out of college my 1st year because of my sisters which forced me to literally run away. I remember all of those events as if it were yesterday. The memories are vivid and alive. When I go to my parents house, those memories haunt me. My old bedroom is now the young one's bedroom; nothing in that house shows that I ever lived there, that I ever existed there. No pictures, no diplomas, nothing. It hurts typing this but I know that I have to let it go and tell my story to others. I wait for the day that I can go to my parents house and feel comfortable, feel like I belong. Please know that you are not alone in this journey and with time, the dark, rainy cloud will vanish.
  3. I just want to say thank you all for reading my story, for allowing me to breathe a small sigh of relief that it's finally out there. I still battle with those demons (wait depression or my siblings!) everyday. No matter what kind of meds I am on or how many therapy sessions I go to, I can't help but feel that I am "broken." My personal relationships have suffered because of this. It's not right that one minute I'm angry and the next I'm apologizing like crazy only for the person to ignore me and when that happens, the depression appears. I sometimes feel that even though I may live in a world where I wake up everyday feeling like the dark, rainy cloud that looms over me will not leave, I am the most loyal and loving person. I think that people take advantage of how you feel when you are down. I feel weak because I feel that someone is taking advantage of me and there's nothing I can do about it. Example: if I were in a relationship where I always paid and the guy didn't, no matter how much I hated him for that, I would still stay in the relationship. Why, well because I am in a weak moment and my emotions get the best of me; I'm afraid to leave because I fear that no one will love me like he did. I cry and think of the past over and over again and when I get hurt, I can't move on. I need to feel loved; I need to have someone, anyone, apologize to me for what they have put me through or have done. Men, friends, and family take full advantage because I am at a low point. Every time I try to get up, I feel emotionally kicked in the stomach and I back down. I wish I were Wonder Woman at times! She always has on her special armor and nothing can hurt her, physically and mentally. I want to get to a point where I can say "you hurt me in the past, but I forgive you because you can't hurt me anymore." But I can't. I can't forget the past; I can't let go of it. No matter how horrible it's been, it has shaped me into the woman that I am now. I can't run away from it, I have to learn to deal with it. I'm not asking for pity from those who hurt me because I don't want to be a victim anymore. I want them to know that what they did to me was wrong. Let's face it though, that would be living in a fantasy to get people to admit when they are wrong. I need to change myself because they will never change. No matter who went up to them, lets say Oprah, and made them read my story and know how much they hurt me, they would still turn around and deny it. They would say that what happened, happened and that I have to move on. I need closure from it. I need my family to admit what they did was wrong and apologize. I need the man who I have been involved with for the past 5 years (yes and no commitment) to fess up to his mistakes, apologize and quit trying to turn them around and somehow put the blame on me. I feel stuck in between the past and present, as if I were walking on glue and have no choice but to stay. I hope that maybe the glue will dry up so that I can break free and move on. Is it too much to ask?
  4. Well that's how I feel with my family. I've battled depression for about 15 years, though I knew years before that something wasn't right. I remember the first time I felt angry and depressed: I was 7 years old. No one helped me then. It all started when I was 15 and my parents were having some marital problems. I am the middle of 3 children so of course I get the stigma that comes with being a middle child: the scapegoat of the family. I learned several years later while in college that the description of that was me. My mother thought it would be best if I went to therapy as well. She noticed that I was distant. Of course I was distant: I had just spent my summer in Europe with my oldest sibling (you are probably thinking that it was a blast) but in reality, it was hell. My sibling abandoned me in Europe, literally for about 3 days. I had no money, my passport was hidden and every souvenir that I managed to buy were taken away from me. I came back to the States a completely different person. I had lost about 20 lbs (I have a small frame so it was noticeable), and almost all of the money that my father had given to me was untouched. To this day I never know why my sibling did this to me. I had bought myself a journal and wrote about it while I was in Europe. I saved it and later burnt it as part my "letting go" stage. Back to my therapy sessions courtesy of my mother: I never spoke. It took me 3 sessions to finally speak about the events that took place in Europe just months before. It angered me that my parents did nothing to my sibling for what I went through. Basically a slap on the hand is what my sibling got. I was angry because my mother had favorites and I wasn't one of them. I was angry because no matter how many chores I did around the house, it wouldn't be good enough for my mother to see me. I spent 2 years in therapy and at 17, I took an overdose. My younger sibling (whom I got along with at the time) called my best friend who hurried over. I remember that I was kneeling in front of a Bible, completely out of it. My parents were in the back having a bbq so they didn't notice what was going on. A few minutes later, I was having my stomach pumped as my mother stood by and watched. I was admitted into a psych ward for 3 days while my Psychiatrist released me. Do you know that while I was lying by a string of hope, my older sibling told my mother "she just did this for attention mom." I was screaming for someone, anyone to hear me out, to calm me down, to wipe my tears away. But no one came. I felt like I had no choice. My family visited me while I was "locked away" as they said. I remember my father asking me why I did it. I had to explain to him why and he still didn't get it; he thought it was all just a show. When my mother signed the release forms a few days later, she got angry with me on the ride home. I didn't feel safe and my tears started again. I came home and locked myself in my room. Each and every time I was in there they would ask me why I was crying - they just didn't understand. At that point, I was very distant with my older sibling, even though we lived in the same house. I remember waking up and getting ready for school and my sibling would just start talking smack, out loud. Saying that I was a victim, oh poor me, no one loves me, etc. My mother stood by and did nothing. Each and every night my family would have dinner together: a nice happy family of 4. I was completely left out. I didn't exist there. How could I sit at the same table with people who could care less about how I was feeling? They never once offered to come to therapy with me to figure things out. Soon after I started college and had started seeing another therapist. My 1st year at college was horrible; my grades were suffering and it was because of what I had to deal with at home. I couldn't stay at school late to study because somehow they got it into their minds that I was up to no good. Clearly the older one said that. Everything that my older sibling said, they believed and I was wrong. At one therapy session my mother came along on the advise of my therapist and you know what my mother said to her? She said "I hope you can fix her because I am tired of this." I was sitting beside her. How could she say that about me? She gave me life, she knew that I was suffering and did nothing about it. I knew then that I had to leave so I ran away, but not before I wrote my parents a long letter explaining why. It still hurts just trying to type this. The tears have started up again... When I had packed up the last of my belongings, I left the letter in their room. I also wrote one for my aunt and uncle whom I love very much. Well I guess it wasn't enough that I was leaving because my siblings, both of them, got together and laughed at me. They went so far as to snatch the letter that I left for my parents and decided to read it out loud. My youngest sibling was 15 while the oldest was 25. I walked out of the front door and didn't come back until after college. My father didn't speak to me for 6 months because of that. My mother was calling me at work and crying, asking me why I left. They both knew but didn't want to admit it. I remember my therapist telling my mother that she and my father were like the 3 monkeys: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. My grades improved dramatically and I was on the Dean's List my 2nd year of college. Let's fast forward a bit. After I graduated college, my oldest sibling and I were getting along, for the most part; well it felt more like a show for my parents than something genuine. I had moved back home because my older sibling moved out and the youngest started college, so it was just me. At first I was thrilled to finally get some alone time with my parents and try to explain to them how I felt than to how I felt in high school. They wanted to hear nothing; my "accident" never happened according to my mother. Again, I was shut out and ignored. When my youngest sibling was about to graduate college, the problems started again but the youngest this time. Same problems, just a different sibling. By that time, I had saved enough to buy my 1st home! YEY FOR ME! MY family didn't care one way or another. I heard comments like "you're an *****, you should have bought something else; I don't like it; you're a failure because you couldn't afford a real house, etc." Lets fast forward to the present. My older sibling is now married with 2 beautiful children, whom I just adore very much. The youngest decided to start graduate school and therefore lives with my parents. I only get along remotely with the older one because I want to see my nephews. The youngest one, forget it. According to the youngest, I am a failure because I couldn't get into law school; I'm a loser because every man I have dated has used me; I'm pathetic and a victim. Yes people, that's my family in nutshell. I detest both siblings but more so now is the youngest one. I still get the occasional talk as to why I didn't go to a family event, why am I not being with the family, etc. I'll tell you why, because I'm sick and tired of being a nobody to them. I'm sick and tired of being at a family function and not even exist to anyone. I'm sick and tired of always being blamed and not my siblings. Sigh, no matter how much I want to tell them both to screw off, I can't manage to get the words out of my mouth without crying. As soon as I try, I feel myself getting shaky and my throat gets clogged up and the tears just begin. They have control over me; they laugh at me. I don't belong in that family, even to this day I firmly believe that. I am 30 years old and I still feel like I am 15 again, sitting by myself in my room eating, being ignored.
  5. I too feel lonely and it's not a good feeling. When I'm at work, I put on my mask, but when I leave, the real me comes out. My best friend and I have been friends for 16 years and even though she knows everything about me and vice-versa, I can't help but think that she's sick of me telling her the same old thing. I feel like a broken record and no matter how much I want to repair it, I can't. It's too broken to even try. I feel like there is a dark cloud looming over me at all times. I can't get away from it. Going to my parents house is like torture for me. I love both of my parents but I can't help but feel uncomfortable, scared and lonely. My mind constantly drifts to a place where there are no dark clouds. I want so much for this feeling to go away but I feel stuck. I cry about everything. When I want to confront my sisters for the things they have done to me, I can't. I feel like my voice is stuck in my throat and the only thing I do is to cry. I cry because I'm angry, depressed, and lonely. No matter how much my mother tells me that she's there for me, I can't bring myself to tell her how I really feel. I'm even crying typing this and I have a meeting in 25 minutes!
  6. Hello, I too am new to this forum. I just want to let everyone know that it takes a lot of courage to talk about your feelings openly to complete strangers so I admire you all. I hope to make this site my 2nd home! A brief history of my med: started on Prozac at 16 & became suicidal (I overdosed and had to have my stomach pumped)soon after I was on Zoloft (wasn't a good fit - still had manic depression)followed by Paxil because I was getting panic attacks (the depression stayed the same or got worse)after Paxil I was on Citaloprom ( I started that medication in January of 2010; first 20 mg then 40mg; I gained 16lbs in less than 6 months - no good. My doctor did not believe that it was the medication, but simply me overeating. I've always weighed between 110-112lbs and those 16lbs were extremely noticeable for my petite frame)July of this year my doctor began to taper me off of Citaloprom & begin Bupropion. First I went from my usual dose of 40mg to 30mg; 2 weeks later 20mg; 2 weeks later I began 10mg of Citaloprom and Bupropion at 75mg; 2 weeks followed when my dose changed to 150mg.after another follow-up with my doctor, she decided that 300mg would be best; however, she only prescribed 225mg.I have been on Bupropion at 225mg since 9/28/10 and just this week, literally Tuesday, I began to feel better. No more sudden outbursts of tears, no more thoughts of ******* myself. I have been struggling with depression since I was 15, though I can remember feeling like that at a much younger age. I'll never forget my first "anger/depressed" outburst. I was in 1st grade and my parents had just bought me a silver and neon pink trapper keeper (it was 1987!) and I remember getting so angry that I tore it apart. I took out my anger on my new trapper keeper for no reason. Afterwards, I felt so depressed because I couldn't fix what I did. I cried and screamed and felt like my entire world was over. I was 7 years old and I knew then, that I wasn't okay, or as my family would put it "normal." After so many years with a psychiatrist (I saw her when I was 16-17), several psychologists and medications later, I am hoping that I can now find peace. I am 30 years old and I spent my entire teenage years in a rut. I hope to stray the dark and rainy cloud that has been looming all of these years and finally see the world for what it is. Thank you all!
  7. Hello from a newbie! I want to foremost thank everyone who has the courage to come to a site like this & discuss their feelings openly to complete strangers. I've learned that strangers have a better appreciation to how I feel versus my own family. A quick history: I've been diagnosed with depression when I was 16; at 17 I overdosed on Prozac & nearly died. I was crying out for help from my family & no one listened. My mother watched as the doctor pumped my stomach. My issues mostly stem from my family; I feel like I am the outcast because of this "illness" as they say. Soon after high school, I started college & was put on Zoloft. From Zoloft I was on Paxil, then Citaloprom and now I am on Bupropion. Prozac & Zoloft weren't a good fit for me because I had constant thoughts of suicide. Paxil calmed my anxiety a bit but I still felt down. I started Citaloprom (20 mg) in January of this year. I felt okay but I noticed that my appetite had changed & anxiety attacks were still frequent. I still had moments where I would cry constantly without any merit & I felt even more depressed. My doctor then changed my dosage to 40 mg but that didn't help. When I went for a follow-up, I had gained 16 lbs & none of my pants were fitting me! I was getting more depressed because of my weight gain so my doctor slowly weened me off of Citaloprom & prescribed Bupriopon, 75 mg. I officially started Bupriopon the middle of August, while also taking a smaller dose of Citaloprom to ween me off. At the end of last month, my doctor changed my dosage to 225 mg of Bupropion. Hopefully, this time around the tears will stop, the anxiousness goes away & I can finally wake up without being depressed.
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