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gandolfication

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gandolfication last won the day on February 28 2019

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About gandolfication

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    Male
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    Washington DC
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    Politics, philosophy, literature, art, film, pop- neuroscience and quantum physics

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  1. You know it's 'funny' in a dark, bent, distorted kind of way (so not very funny then), I'm the only one I let bully myself.
  2. I talk to myself out loud all the time (some, what say too often, but they shouldn't be eavesdropping). 🤕 This includes, audibly saying, "stop!" Every once in a while, my wife is unbeknownst to me nearby, and will say, "what?" And I'll just say, I was talking to myself.
  3. Yes, thanks. My initial go-to, phrase when negative thoughts start to overwhelm, is to just say, "stop." Then, I try to replace or reframe with something more positive and hopefully accurate (a la CBT), although this is really hard during this time.
  4. This is the kind of pithy, resonant kind of metaphor I've come to expect from you, J.D., thanks. Even the cow pie, can be cleaned off of you if you just live one more day. Truly, words to live by. My thanks to you.
  5. that is what I'm doing I guess. Holding on second by second. In the past 6 weeks, thoughts of suicide, often with specificity, have been increasing to the point of near constancy. And behaviorally, essentially most all my actions are an attempt to deal with or block them out, and/or try to grapple with the reality that I feel very close to running the final lap and going through with ending it. I don't want to write about this. god, I know its endlessly boring. This morning, I wrote kind of a funny poem about Nick the Destroyer of Worlds, also cuddly monkey. He wanted to color it, so I made him a photocopy. He told me colored it, but didn't like it, so he had thrown it away (hence the copy). His smile and laugh are enough to make a thousand suns jealous. My girls too, are brilliant lights in a dark world. I want it to be enough. But I'm not being a good father or provider, or example. Rather, I'm being an example of what happens when someone suffering with depression at the end, disintegrates into sad, pathetic mess. I don't want them to see this any more. It is the most natural and strongest force I know of that they'll follow in my footsteps as long as I am around with them and like this. I understand they're also likely to follow my example if I end my life, although not necessarily. They may just as likely react against that and determine, whatever else life brings, they'll not inflict that same pain on others. Well, this is fruitless. The more I think, the more I confirm my thinking is useless. I have not been helping things. I have another therapy appointment tomorrow, which I'll go to because it usually is a respite (is this what therapy should be, or should it be more a wakeup call for the need to change things?) Other, unanswerable questions. I feel and believe, now that I have means available, its' just a matter of time before I take the inevitable course. I have lost confidence that I can help myself. that may be self-pity talking, but history seems also to bear it out. I thought I was making progress dealing with the ever-present negative inner critic....but as things gets worse, its credibility and impact become easier to believe. One thing I've been trying is to actually dialogue with it to better uncover and realize that the inner critic (perversely) actually emanates from a desire to protect me. The 'aware ego' can realize this and dialogue such as, oh, you're telling me that in such harsh terms because you don't want me to be hurt, vulnerable, etc.. It allows for the possibility of common ground. Accepting that (again, perversely and in disordered or exaggerated fashion), it actually is motivated by my best interests. I still would like to **** it, but there have been moments, when I realized how it is actually trying to help, and in those moments, was able to imagine an improved state. Then they pass, like vapor. Right now, for example, I don't know if its the inner critic, or just a rational part of me asking/saying, gag, get over yourself and get on with it one way or the other. Just decide already...get busy living or dying, but get off the fence.
  6. Thanks. I always appreciate this kind of encouragement.
  7. Nah, it doesn't sound hollow. Especially not coming from you. It is daunting. I get so worn out from life. It hurts so much, and so much of the time. I'm really trying stay, for my kids. That's all.
  8. Wanting to help your kids and knowing you're not able to, must be 9ne of the loneliest feelings in the world. I've really appreciated some amazing encouragement from some friends here and elsewhere the past week+. Can't say thanks enough. New therapist was worth seeing. Can't seem to get myself better though. Feels like there's no chance.....I just can't get the $ or business or relationships salvaged. I'm just hanging on.
  9. I'm in over my head for the final time. As burdens and deadlines mount and the stress overwhelms, I am making the final preparations to leave. I can't handle it anymore. I just need to execute a couple straight forward things, and leave this world behind. My best to all of you.
  10. I'm sorry JD. I like how you describe things. Its easy to relate to. I do hope you feel better. I hope that for everyone here.
  11. No worries, it makes sense here too.
  12. That's funny, I had to not heard that before. I wonder why pain doesn't have diminishing returns like a good experiences do.
  13. You're welcome to discuss it here JD. That's what we do on this thread. I've slid back into major depression myself. Pretty much everything in my life is going very poorly and or hanging by a vapor-thin thread. I'm spent. Too many lose ends ever-unraveling, relationships included. All the sudden, I'm again very close to reviving old plans to end things. I have a couple means in mind, and while I'm on the one hand, trying to apply basic self compassion, self care, acceptance, etc., and other strategems to combat the constant voice of hopelessness, it is at best prolonging things. Once again, I feel I just can't keep going. I'm really having trouble trying to hold thoughts simultaneously of my kids whom I love, but knowing that each day, I am hurting them with things at home, and lack of stability, financially, relationship-wise, or otherwise. I know that my death of course would only make things worse, but at least I would cease to be a part of its ongoing cause, or would no longer be a part of it. I can't manage. This week will need a decision and some action by me. I'm crumbling under the pain and anxiety. I'm reading an article about a woman who, due to genetics, does not experience pain, or fear. Neither physical, nor psychological/emotional pain. Because she is about 67 I think, and has lived a wonderfully healthy, full life, it blows away (to me) all the theories that pain and suffering serves a purpose. I have always questioned this, but ever more so as life has become more and more painful. Maybe it is a matter of degrees. We like to think that what doesn’t **** us makes us stronger, or more resilient, or . . . something. Deeper. Wiser. Enlarged. There is “glory in our sufferings,” the Bible promises. “Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” In this equation, no pain is too great to be good. “The darker the night, the brighter the stars,” Dostoyevsky wrote. “The deeper the grief, the closer is God!” We atheists get in on the action by insisting that the agony of loss elucidates the worth of love. The hours spent staring into the dark, looping around our own personal grand prix of anxieties, are not a waste of time but a fundamental expression of our humanity. And so on. To be a person is to suffer. But what if our worst feelings are just vestigial garbage? Hypervigilance and pricking fear were useful when survival depended on evading lions; they are not particularly productive when the predators are Alzheimer’s and cancer. Other excruciating feelings, like consuming sadness and aching regret, may never have had a function in the evolutionary sense. But religion, art, literature, and Oprah have convinced us that they are valuable—the bitter kick that enhances life’s intermittent sweetness. Pain is what makes joy, gratitude, mercy, hilarity, and empathy so precious. Unless it isn’t.
  14. Thanks. Glad to hear you seem to have gotten some benefit from a natural agent. Your middle paragraph is intriguing. We do talk ourselves out of hope, don't we. (Set aside whether hope is justified or not...it's better to have it). ".... unless I want to greatly alter my life and become something quite different than what I am, and what I have been." This makes me think of change, and comfort zone. And how fear impedes us. I dunno any more. I either over-function or under-function. It's like I somehow just don't know how, or rebel against, working hard to keep things ordinary, balanced. Anyway, thanks my friend.
  15. When I first read this the day you posted it, I thought, how I "want to say less," but never do. ha. Thanks though. the last 2 weeks have been a downward spiral for me. I hadn't been coming or writing here much in recent months, I guess because I was too busy starting up and working again at something I thought had some fulfillment, and also that I could use to pay bills. Part of me didn't' want to be back either. Not for any bad reason; it's just that being back here correlates with feeling hopeless again. The bottom has dropped out. Anxiety has me again, I'm procrastinating, and if I can't or don't get through it really quickly, I'll fail again. Right now, if I had easy means, I would end it. I see no point in anything again. I took my family to this Run Jump and Play place yesterday with indoor playgrounds, basketball, trampolines, etc. Nick is 4 and loooooooves spiderman. And Spiderman showed up. It was cool. I'll post a picture of it here later. But overall and overwhelmingly, the relationships are just bad. And I blame myself for most of that. And yah, my irritability. Even here, I didn't always do this, but any more, I mostly just post about myself, and its always when I'm in need of something. I hate that. Just survival. I've been back going to the UU unchurch, but it really still does grow originally out of New England Christianity, it's just a much more liberal, open, and values-based sort (rather than placing peoples'' beliefs as central). So the preaching, and songs, and ethos, and the small covenant group, etc., I've been in, are all much more like a good 12-step group, except not talking about addiction (yea), or the Bible. Kind of talking about the things that to me, matter most, and/or interest me most in life. What it means, what's significant, what we can discover, including a healthy does about quantum reality and AI of late. I'm reading a book from the church library called Making Peace with the Inner Critic, which is thought provoking and has some good exercises. I think my relationship with my oldest has hit a point of limitation. She's caught on to my bullsh*t probably. She gets that I guess I'm like my dad, affectionate when I want to be, and less so or not, when I don't. It's the inward-looking self-absorption that for many--and for me in any case--tends to go along with depression. I don't know which causes the other or comes first. Maybe its these things; maybe it's having just watched a few episodes of the Mandalorian, with baby yoda (how cynical, and also how effective, to market this pablum). Whatever it is, I cannot stop but wonder, what could possibly make this experience worth continuing, preserving, fighting for. And if the answer is not being a child, able to rest in a higher power, that at least ultimately offers unconditional love, then I don't know what it ever could be. I don't think that's just happenstance from the religion I was taught. I think, and have always believed, it emanates from a much more universal human need and longing. So I keep wondering. And then, I guess the question becomes, if I can't ever again find and achieve that experience of unconditional love in this life, perhaps it is there in the next state of existence. And maybe I shouldn't have waited so long to go there. In my mind, this has always been the central line of demarcation between what is considered, prosaically, "normal" healthy well being from a medical and psychological standpoint in this world, versus those who see things differently, with too many eyes. Granted, we cannot know much about or even if there really is anything like an "afterlife." To which I feel like responding, yah, that's true, but we sure know enough about THIS awful life....let's postulate we know enough to hypothesize that any 'other' or next state of existence cannot be worse. The damnable fact is, no matter how hard I try, I do not seem to have what is necessary, to make it, 'on my own,' so to speak. I just keep coming up against and coming back to the same wall I can't get over, by human means. We seem to lack precisely that which is most necessary. Nothing I have seen, experienced, heard or read of, in this world, offers anything approaching a solution. Nothing. The fact that some others seem to have improved, gotten better, or even 'recovered,' the more one thinks about it, does not even nearly answer this. They still struggle with the same pain, anxiety, suffering, and ultimately death that all people do. If not from the seeming magic of spirituality, I see absolutely nothing on the horizon that beckons any hope. Nothing. I wish I were coming here, or could find something a little lighter and better to write about. I've busted my butt to help others solve problems (for payment make no mistake), but I cannot solve my own. This is the state of being non-saved that the religionists and philosophers inveighed from the beginning. Hope was not something we would find within. It was definitional. F*ck it, I'll stop. This is godawfullly too long to have written in the fist place.
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