Depression

Other than fixing a decade long back injury. It switched off all the background chatter in my brain and generally removed depression for me via the nasal spray which was a huge relief. I switched to capsules and i feel like they are less effective. Plan to switch back to the 5mg spray.

I will say from my personal experience, when I was taking Norco, one tablet, maybe 3 days a week, my 4.5 mg LDN almost seemed to enhance the pain relief. But then I needed the pain meds more frequently and eventually went on Buprenorphine daily. I found the LDN just didn't help anymore but didn't make me feel worse and I ended up stopping the LDN. Now I'm on a different daily opioid due to debilitating side effects on the Buprenorphine and really wish I could still take the LDN with it, but I am afraid of withdrawals with being a daily opioid. I felt less stiff on LDN, less brain fog and it honestly lifted my mood so much and kept my overstimulation down. I've never missed being on a medication before but I really miss my LDN. It was the best antidepressant I've ever taken and it's not even an antidepressant! I do wonder if just the right ratio of very low dose naltrexone with a slightly higher dose opioid would increase the pain relief (it also made the Norco last me almost 8 hours instead of 4-6 hours,) and my pain doctor is willing to let me try if I want to, but this post kind of confirmed my fears about even trialing that.

I am trying to find a way to open up, and get things out of my head, and deal with the issues that I have. I have never been able to talk about any of this with anyone, and I am having a hard time finding words and giving myself permission to let my guard down. I have deleted several paragraphs already, re-reading them and thinking “there is no way anyone will believe this,” or, “I can’t say that, it will only hurt whoever’s reading this.” And that is my first inclination: to protect myself and others, from myself. I am chronically depressed. I have a chronic heroin addiction. I am chronically incapable of telling anyone about what really happens in my head, and so I have stayed chronically mentally unwell. I have hidden myself so well and for so long that the truth feels overly dramatic and self-serving and completely unbelievable. But I have this funny feeling that something is going to happen soon and I am going to die, and I am at peace with that, and there are those who need to understand why. All of the darkness has stayed inside of me and there isn’t any room left. I don’t know where it came from. I sometimes feel that I can’t find even one memory that isn’t tinged with loneliness, or fear, or shadows. All of them whirling inside of me and turning into hate, and loathing, and anger—towards myself. I was—I am—so afraid of what might happen if I lose control, if I am no longer able to contain it, to internalize it, to hold it in. Terrified of giving in to my compulsions of self-harm. I am my own worst enemy, and half of me battles the other, and I am in the middle, and I am not winning this war. I can remember feeling this when I was less than 10 years old. And now, years later, I am still lonely and afraid and I have no self-esteem and I alternate between intense feelings of self-loathing, and self-pity. There is screaming in my head and sometimes the need to hurt myself is so intense that I can barely keep myself from giving in. I have visions of my body bashing itself in and shredding its own skin, and I am only partly horrified. Drugs, for me, have been the only source of comfort, and they will most likely kill me. I can barely drag myself out of bed in the morning, or afternoon, or sometimes evening, if I am sober. I have nothing to look forward to but pain and misery (and yes, I know this sounds melodramatic and ridiculous). I literally cannot leave the house unless I have to, because I’m so anxious and depressed. I am in such a deep, dark hole and I do not have the skills or motivation to do anything about it. So why not get high? Why not get drunk? Why not stay up all night shooting heroin, always half a grain away from an OD? I have lost the energy to give a shit. What a waste of intelligence, of strength, of heart. I could have been a great addition to the world. **EDIT/Rough Outline continued:** Thank you, everyone, for your responses! It's nice to have feedback, since I'm not comfortable sharing this with real life people, who know me, and could make things more difficult for me in my current state of mind. I wanted to share some background, though, to put things in a better perspective. * To all the people who suggested treatment programs, NA/AA, medication, etc: I have been in and out of pretty much every form of treatment available in the US. I am on Suboxone, and I have been for the past 5 years, and then on and off for another 3 years before that. I've been using dope (heroin) for about 12 years, again, on and off but with many long periods of daily use and complete physical addiction. Right now, the only physical addiction that I have is the Suboxone itself; my concerns are with the *mental* addictions. Suboxone does block opiates, but you have to actually *take* it for it to work. * I have also tried NA, and I know that it works really well for a lot of people, but I never got comfortable with it. I have pretty bad social anxiety, which was compounded by sitting in a room with lots of strangers and talking about really personal stuff. I did collect some phone numbers, but I cannot seem to make myself change enough to be the kind of person who can just randomly dial a strange number and bare my soul to whoever answers. I just can't do it. It is a pretty big drawback, and I definitely wish sometimes that I could be that kind of person. It just makes me too uncomfortable, and that in itself is a trigger to use. * Therapy and psychiatric medication were also suggested; I am on meds for depression, anxiety, and ADD. I have also been in counseling for a long time, although I haven't really stuck with one therapist for more than a couple of years. Again, my natural reticence is a huge inhibitor to any sort of progress. I just freeze up whenever I open my mouth to actually say what I really feel. It's like my tongue has suddenly been chopped off, or my brain decided to shut down for a bit. I know that I might sound pretty lazy and unwilling to make an effort, but I assure you that this is not the case. I really DO want to feel better and fix my head, but the only way I've been able to do that is by using heroin. Really, the **only** way. I really believe that the only way I can be at ease with myself and my life is if I can give up on the treatment that is socially acceptable and just treat myself, with the "medication" that actually works. The only issue that I see with constant heroin use is the amount of money it takes, and also being sure that it's constantly available. I don't use heroin to get all dopey and sleepy and nod out-- when I use it, I feel energized and motivated and comfortable with myself, and I can actually accomplish things that would otherwise be really difficult for me to do... things like going out in public, meeting people, making friends, thinking, talking, breathing. I can also follow through with things like work and business and all that stuff. My mind feels clear. I know that most people will not agree with me on this topic. There are clinics in other countries that follow the same idea as mine; instead of handing out methadone, they hand out pharmaceutical grade heroin. Research shows that crime and poverty are reduced in the neighborhoods surrounding the clinic, because the need to steal is obliterated when your medicine is available and free. Research also shows that there is **no** data that suggests that more people start to use just because they can-- if anything, I think that legalizing it in these clinics may take away some of the romanticism and attractiveness that some new users feel. Basically, I just want to be able to live my life and not feel like it's torture. That's how I feel right now. I want to be able to live my life and be in control of my body and my decisions, as long as I'm not hurting anyone. And if I decide that living is too hard for me, then that's my choice as well. I am still going to try to be clean and sober and to fix my mental issues the "right" way. I am really trying to live like everyone else. These ramblings are just... ramblings. Wishes. Ideas. A spewing forth of thoughts that I have never, and may never, actually *speak*. **TL;DR** If you're looking for a TLDR, don't bother. I have no way of condensing this wall of text into a couple sentences. Sorry!

This is my experience of Hypothyroidism & Depression. I, in no way, am saying if you are depressed you have hypothyroidism. But I hope to share to offer support to others while receiving support myself. No one likes to feel alone in their struggles. I wish only the best for everyone and hope you find the peace you deserve. June of 2015, last year, I got married. We were having fun and enjoying married life and all the new adventures that come with it. I had a fun job at a new up and coming tech-company, life was perfect! About 5 months into the marriage, I started feeling “off” and I couldn’t figure out why I was so down. I thought maybe I needed a change at work; I tried a few things, nothing helped. Still assuming work was the problem; I ended up quitting my job. During that last stretch of employment, I was having a hard time getting to work and I was calling in sick cause I couldn’t get myself out of bed. I wasn’t feeling typical “sick” symptoms, but I felt heavy, sad and empty. I started looking elsewhere for employment. I filled my days with interviews and was lucky enough to receive a few offers. After all that, I didn’t even end up taking any of them! For some reason staring a new job didn’t seem like the right thing to do. This was really discouraging to me, but thinking about starting a new job, feeling this way, was SO overwhelming. My husband left for a weekend for work and honestly I cried the whole time he was gone! I am usually fine being alone and I took this as a warning that something deep was going on. I started scouring the internet, plugging in symptoms, trying to find an answer. I thought it was possibly post-nuptial depression; it’s sounds strange but some women experience it. That didn’t seem quite right though. Typically I am eager to mix things up and look forward to change…and I was happy with being married. I was just confused at this point. Over time I was feeling more and more unmotivated, sad, emotional, anti-social, frustrated, easily irritated, empty and I couldn’t get myself out of bed and definitely not out of the house. If I did go anywhere – parties, family dinners, church, etc it took everything out of me to pretend I was fine and avoided talking about how I was at all costs. Part of avoiding conversation was because not only did I know I was unhappy, I didn’t know why, what would I say to people?! Thinking about how I felt inside brought me to tears every time – – not really a reaction you want to have with neighbors and friends. Trying to hide it all was exhausting! I started to get fearful, was this my new normal, is this me now? I started treating myself for seasonal depression. The winter being as gray, gloomy and yucky as it was, I was sure this was it. I took magnesium and vitamin D, started exercising more, sitting by a UV light I bought, taking myself on walks; ANYTHING! Although, I still felt empty and blah, I thought I was managing and just needing to make it until spring. During this time, my husband and I moved and our family had a lot going on so I was distracted, but still couldn’t shake the emptiness. My days were hit or miss days and I was taking things one day at a time. I also was feeling quite guilty; knowing this couldn’t be easy for my poor husband to deal with. To come home from work and see your new wife still in her pajamas and laying on the couch crying for no reason…all I can say is I felt SO bad. It’s not like I didn’t realize I had a happy life, I knew this very well. I had nothing to be sad about and everything to be grateful for, but the more I felt sad, the more sad I got about feeling sad in the first place! It felt like being in a prison and you’re only allowed to look out a window and watch everyone else have a good time. Finally a sunny day arrived, the first sign of spring. The temperature was forecasted to reach about 70 degrees! I was so excited, made a plan for the day and got myself out of the house to soak up the sun. I started on my errands when a wave of sadness came over me. Not being able to hold back my tears, I pulled off into a parking lot where I sat and cried. The frustration was too much, I thought: If this is seasonal depression, then why am I still feeling so sad? Finding myself back at square one, I was beyond discouraged. By this time it had been going on for 5 months and I had gotten 20 lbs. heavier. I KNEW I had to go see a Doctor. This was the last thing I wanted to do – me, taking the initiative to make an appointment to talk to a stranger about how I was feeling? UGH! It was not easy, but I had a feeling, with my situation, that there was something underlying that was causing all this. I found a doctor, made an appointment and went in. We talked, they did some blood work and within a few days I was called in for a follow-up. I was diagnosed with chronic hypothyroidism and was prescribed Nature- Thyroid medication. The doctor that treated me was knowledgeable, fast, and arranged for my medication to be mailed to me – the best experience I’ve ever had at the doctor… like ever! Finding the right dosage was rocky and my moods went up and down while I worked to get it right. It also was making me nauseous at first – the medication is shocking to your system and it’s normal to have to ease into it. Even just increasing by half a pill can make a big difference. Once the dosage was right, I felt a clear, night and day difference. Not only did the depression and sadness stop, so did other weird symptoms that I didn’t know were correlated. During the 6 months of the depression I felt: * colder than I had ever been (feet, hands, my whole body) which played into me staying in bed * my periods would start about every 2 weeks (and I was on birth control) * fatigue * lowered metabolism * unexplained weight gain * muscle weakness * high cholesterol * slowed heart rate * excessive sleepiness & fatigue * irritability & mood swings * depression & symptoms that come along with that! As you can imagine, these factors all play into one another and begin to compound. It starts you in a downward spiral and you truly cannot get yourself out of it. The thyroid gland produces hormones that: regulate metabolism & body temperature, assist your muscles & organs in working properly, & is essential for every cell in you body. When it’s not functioning you are at risk for hypo or hyper-thyroidism and when it’s not functioning it’s a toxic whirlwind of symptoms. But once I was started on the right dose, all of these issues were resolved. The result has been me feeling better now than I did before. Interestingly enough Hypothyroidism is an autoimmune reaction. My doctor wasn’t able to give me an exact reason as to why someone develops it, but I was able to find some risk factors. A few of the risk factors that pertain to me are being a Caucasian woman and having Celiac Disease (there are others). Celiac Disease is also an autoimmune disorder that I’ve known I’ve had for about 12 years now. If you happen to find yourself in a rut, feeling unexplainably depressed, riding waves of sadness, not being able to move or get yourself going, go see your doctor. It’s not easy, but a doctor is the only person who can truly know what’s wrong and that has the tools to help. My heart goes out to those who battle chronic depression and anxiety; to those who struggle everyday. Those who fight everyday to get out of bed, to feel sincere joy, who struggle to combat the dark intense feelings. I only got a glimpse into how it feels and I would not wish it on anyone. I am really thankful my husband was here for me everyday to support me. He held me when I cried, he didn’t judge but, he encouraged and protected me, and all with such patience (which I think I tested, I don’t think he knew he had that much in him). If you are reading this and know someone going through anything similar, I’m sure it’s hard to know how to help. Let me just say this: During this time, my mom came to visit one day and brought me a card and something to eat and we just sat on the couch and talked. I cried when she left cause it meant everything (it still makes me emotional). It told me that she understood I was struggling. All I wanted was someone to show up and tell me that they cared. It took so much for me to leave the house, so someone coming over was exactly what I needed. So…visit, show-up, call, and listen, show empathy and compassion even if you don’t fully understand it. It’s likely that those suffering with depression are hiding it, walking around smiling and saying they are fine. Be kind and thoughtful to those around you. If you are noticing a loved one is becoming withdrawn or not acting like themselves, it’s probably because they are hurting. Be patient. Care enough to take the time to say something and not let them suffer alone. Pain is a part of life and love, and it helps us grow. It’s sad that with pain, often brings feelings of shame, guilt and fear for feeling such a way (I do this ALL the time). It’s human to feel sad, depressed and alone, it’s not realistic to be happy 365 days out of the year. Feeling and facing pain is an art; it is through our hard times in which we gain experience. From our new experience we can learn and reach understanding so we can become stronger people and help others in their low times. The moments of joy and happiness that life offers should be cherished; those are the moments that can provide us the hope we need, to be carried through our times of difficulty.

I think about how I’m thinking about my thoughts. Every time my therapist suggests a reframe, my depressive brain gets out front and says “nice try, but reframing is a lie, and I won’t believe it.” Everything I try to cope gets hijacked. Even things like “submerge your hands in cold water” my thoughts don’t reset from the shock. They take satisfaction in how they resist the sensation. It’s not a shock because they know it’s coming. Stop and focus on breathing? — body panics like it’s under attack: raised heart rate, blood drains from limbs…. People say don’t let the negative emotions run the show - they \*are\* the show. I’m not aware of a self not fused to despair and self-loathing, and paradoxically hyper protection. A compliment gives me a good feeling. An insult lands like truth. Nothing stops the grind other than performing - my brain has to focus on the show. That external permission allows the thinking about how to think to stand down. I’m on Citalopram, which helped a ton when I started about a decade back. Now on Abilify. Tried Wellbutrin. I start Spravato in a week. I’m not sure if what response I want. Maybe just venting? Thank you.

I have been experimenting with diet and supplements for 40 years and trying to "fix" my ADHD and depression. Yes, the right diet HELPS in the long run but may not solve your problems entirely. That doesn't mean you should not eat a healthier diet. But withdrawing from junk food can take at least 30 days. Junk food and sugar is, IMHO, a drug of choice for many. After trying every diet possible for long periods of time I have come to some conclusions. People get confused by the many diets but there are some easy answers and ways to simplify. Eliminate ALL processed sugar, reduce super sweet fruit, and ALL processed foods (including alcohol). Get a food allergy test and eliminate any items for which you are allergic. I am allergic to wheat, soy and dairy so I am left with meat, veggies, grains, nuts, seeds and some fruit. I eat a balanced diet of some carbs (oats, quinoa and brown rice), nuts/seeds, meat, eggs and mostly raw veggies. I seem to crave fats so I give in a little here. My brain likes coconut and toasted sesame oil. My CBC blood work is perfect but my cholesterol could be better. Not bad, just could be beter. I am 58 years old. I have two general rules of thumb - if something outside my own kitchen has more than 2-3 ingredients or has to be unwrapped it is probably junk food. This is a general rule and doesn't always apply. The easiest solution is to try a "rotation diet". Eat super simple for 30 days (I ate brown rice and fresh veggies) then slowly start adding foods. I ate soy and felt like I had been hit with a baseball bat - woke up with a "hang over", had a headache and felt like utter crap for days. I take protein supplements as I seem to need more than most. The first time I tried the rotation diet, age 16, my personality literally changed and the fog of depression lifted. The transformation was unbelievable! Yes, diet makes a huge difference!! I am NOT perfect and I break down and eat junk sometimes. But I get back on the wagon. I eat well 95% of the time. I hate to say it but the average American will just never eat a healthy diet. The U.S. food marketers ($$$$) have succeeded in destroying American health and getting everyone addicted to super low quality, chemical laden, hormone ridden absolute shit that I would not feed my dog (I make my own dog food). And kudos for even thinking about diet. You are head and shoulders above the average person!!

I can totally understand. I too so want to end it cause depression so bad is hell to live with but it would cause so much pain for those we leave behind. It's great you have empathy for your loved ones. You will get better, it will pass eventually and there is a real god who loves and cares about every detail of your life and although he doesn't take away our hideous suffering he knows you and made you for a reason. The joy will come back, I know it's unbearable but I strongly believe your life will turn a corner for good and life is going to feel like living is worthwhile again. I too have hideous depression, have had it for 30 years, bad not to be able to work or raise my kids and tormenting suicidal thoughts and severe anxiety so I intense I just can't take it or function anymore but we do come right. I will pray for you wherever you are in the world. Baby steps, just take one foot in front of the other, this will pass, get professional help and reach out to friends and family as hard as that is cause they often have no idea what torment is going on in side of us. Take care. Megan from new zealand

Hi everybody. 6 months ago, I had a fight with the man I love. He left and never came back. I met him in october 2024. My mind is filled with him being completely indifferent towards me, but as I was sorting out my papers today, I found an old medical report of my stay at the emergency services. On the 19th of december, I suddenly felt a huge pain in my left kidney. I remember not telling him I've been to the emergency services until saturday, on the phone. I remember him being worried, telling me I should have told him earlier, that he wants to know if something is going wrong... Somehow, 2 months after, he became distant. He wouldn't care for my health anymore. We talked less and less. I never knew what happened. He never told me, didn't say anything when he left. At the end, he was so cruel and distant, I convinced myself he never liked me and it was just a play from the beginning. But, for 6 months, my brain has been fighting back because of those memories where he would be sweet, caring. To this day, I've never been able to know if he was just playing me or if something was real... This has been haunting me for the last 6 months. On the very rare occasions where I do not think about it, it's like the physical grip that's holding my muscles suddenly goes away and I feel so light... But 99% of my time, it's just a running background thought and it makes me tired, as if my body couldn't hold my weight anymore... I don't know how he's able to have such a power over me. I've been seeing a therapist for a long time now, taking antidepressants, trying a lot of new leisures and changed my life completely... To be honest, I should be a happy girl right now, the future is looking "bright". But on my darkest days, I still wanna kill myself because of the constant thought of him. As if it was a constant background noise I can't erase... The more time passes by, the more it is difficult. I'm worried I'll still have this toughts for years and years. I call it a trauma, but most people don't understand and don't take me seriously. They don't understand how I'm not able to move on. Even myself, I sometimes feel guilty for being psychologically this weak and crying out for "such a small thing"... But whatever people are saying, that doesn't erase the fact I'm living that as a trauma... I realized I feel like those animals left attached to a fence, on the highway... Waiting for the return of their owner, not knowing what happened, powerless and with a leash that's keeping them from living again, slowly dying... I've been checking the animals currently in the rescue shelter of my next city for weeks now (I'll move in 2 weeks)... The first time I went there, it made me cry a lot seeing all those animals... And I've never been sensitive to animals back then. Now I plan on rescuing an old cat. I'll see which one strikes me the most when I'll be able to see them physically. I didn't plan on adopting an animal in my life at first. But it feels like I can so much relate to those abandonned animals and giving one of them a new shelter is like giving me what I wish I would have had. As if I was able to withdraw them from the fate that was also mine... Somehow, I feel lighter thinking about welcoming a new "refugee" to my house. It's like a magic pill to keep the thoughts of him away. And I'm sure the affection of a pet is really precious to depressed people. Btw, I've always had depression and I know it stems from abandonment issues. He basically did the worst someone could do to my mental health, without even knowing I guess. I should have protected myself as well. I learned my lesson the hard way, but the trauma is still there and I have to learn how to live with it... Mind you, I've enough financial ressources to take care of a pet and I'm "high functionning" depressed. It's been a while since I've been thinking about that. I just wanted to vent here as it feels like the only community that wouldn't judge me for being traumatized by "such a small event". And my post will be forgotten in a few days, so yeah, whatever... Guess it's also a testimony on how everyone's depression is unique and there's not a single path towards healing, not a universal cure, because the roots are tied to your own personal unmet needs. I feel like, with globalization and the internet, we tend to see depression as a very standard medical condition and it is harder to grasp the fact that there might be millions of different depressions... Stay safe and may you find your own cure to this disease...

Processed sugar is pretty bad for depression. Depressed people are more sensitive to the spikes and crashes that sugar/candy etc. can bring. The one thing that helped me the most was quitting processed sugar and only making small allowances for birthday cake/holiday etc. Sugar is really in everything, so even if it doesn’t taste sweet it probably has sugar in it! Have to get mindful of labels. I have fallen back on old ways the past couple years and wow I can really see the negative difference in my mood and thinking! I don’t think eating healthy ‘cured’ my depression, but it did help with a lot of the brain fog/fatigue and other annoying physical and ‘functioning’ type symptoms. Eating a junk diet is kind of like your body is hungover all the time. When your eating well it’s like giving yourself a good foundation to build more healthy behaviors to help fight depression. Don’t overwhelm yourself with a lot of major changes all at once if your actively depressed. Maybe just add more protein and veg in every single meal. Then gradually start decreasing the junk.

Hello everyone 🙃 I’m sorry, I’ve never written here before, or anywhere, really. Honestly, I’m writing this a little impulsively, while I still can, before the little voice in my head tells me to go back to bed and hide under the covers, haha. The dissociation has just lifted. This is the hardest part. Coming back to yourself, when everything hurts so much it feels like you could tear your own heart out. You cry for a life that isn’t over, but that you feel like you never truly got to live. You’re waiting for the dissociation to come back like some kind of medicine. I know it will, soon. But right now, I’m still here. I’m still me. And I needed to put that somewhere. I’ve been living with depression since childhood. I’m 25. I’m only just starting to learn how not to make myself as small as possible. Maybe that comes from the fact that my father used to terrify us if we dared to raise our voices, even slightly. In some ways, I’m still a seven year old girl hiding under that broken table, in that filthy house that smelled of cheap cigarettes and calvados, listening to the shouting and insults without really listening. I learned very early on that my body and my mind were dirty. That never really left me. I’m still learning how to grieve a father who is alive, and a little girl who just needed to be loved and protected. Does anyone else know this feeling ? The moment when you come back to yourself and it’s almost worse than being gone ? I don’t really know how to end this. Just waiting for the numbness to return just to get through I guess. I wonder if anyone knows what is like to wait for the dissociation to come back. To almost miss it. if this post doesn’t mean anything to anyone, that’s okay. Tonight, at least, I had my tiny victory: I let myself be seen, even just a little. 🙂

My name is Carter and I am a 14 year old boy my mom has shown little care for me since the day I was born my dad has job issues and can‘t afford to buy food or fix his car my mom is a RN who is going to soon work at Mercy hospital again My mom has lots of mental health issues and did not make me food or support me properly when I was young I had to survive off making myself these little blue microwave meals that I think were called kid cuisines? But either way I had to microwave those damn things at 4 years old one time I cut my finger with a kitchen knife while trying to “vent the film“ and I was bleeding bad I ran to my mom who was of course sleeping and told her I cut myself and she stated “go put a band aid on it and don’t wake me up unless the house is on fire“ I started crying and just wrapped a paper towel around my finger I later went to my grandmas house and my uncle vinny who is mentally unstable? I think its called so he has lets say less IQ and less control over his emotions he is in his late 30s and one second he is nice and asks if I want to go get ice cream with him or go to the park and the other second he will say he doesn’t like me or just go upstairs and hide but one day he was folding towels and putting them away when I said “I have to go to the bathroom“ he gets really upset when you interrupt him from doing chores so he yelled “USE THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM!” at the time the upstairs bathroom had a light that didn’t turn on and bad insulation you could see the leaky ceiling it was always freezing in there during the winter and boiling in the summer so I said “you gotta be kidding me I’m not going up there its freezing“ I stood there and he picked up his stuff and moved it to the living room and came back and shoved me and walked away I hit my head against the toilet bowl and blacked out my mom was there and told me to get up after looking at me for 15 seconds she met my stepdad who has very bad OCD and loses his mind about something being unclean and that wasn’t good because my mom had shit all over the condo and the storage room was packed she eventually cleaned some stuff but we always ate in the living room because the kitchen table was turned into a shelf if you know what I mean she got a cat and another and here I am today in lancaster with 5 cats 2 dogs I am failing school and the school is doing so much for me and I have big dreams I’ve always been very very smart I could talk about Biology class or math class for hours without getting bored I take medicine for my Anxiety my depression and my ADHD their have been 26 CPS cases over the years and all of them are “unfounded“ I have good reason to believe that my grandmas sister is taking apart in the “unfounded“part so nobody gets in trouble for abusing me My mom loves to pretend to play victim and say my dad “beat her” and “abused her” when in reality its the other way around she did that to my dad and oh man here it comes I’m 2 and they both separate I live with my dad and his roommate tony who later gets kicked out for stealing from my dad and would not stop smoking when my dad says ”bud I really don’t want to do this” he starts crying and thats when I know something fucked is about to happen he kneels down and says “I love you more than anything in the world but I don’t have money and I’m gonna have to send you to stay with your mama for a while“ and boom my mom gains full custody and this is where its bad the court agreement says I am allowed to see my dad for 2 days each weekend if I want and this is where my mom turns evil she starts going on vacation and enjoying herself all while I’m at my grandmas house and my dad is struggling to pay $600 a month in “child support“ when in reality she will just buy me one or two things and spend the rest on something else at this point it has been 2 or 3 weeks since I had seen my dad so I call my nana Mary who you will learn is my savior and guardian angel puts my dad on the phone and my dad has this thing where he would easily beat the shit out of anybody and talk while screaming so loud that he would turn red and veins would start protruding out of his face when he does this he legit sounds like a demonic entity but when I come around that revengeful wrath holding beast just suddenly goes poof! he becomes extremely protective of my and says things like “If anyone puts their hands on you I will beat them to death I love you so much” he knows how to discipline me without hitting me or mocking me but will still get his point out to me he has never put his hands on me or swore at me or called me an “Ungrateful little prick” or anything like that and no matter how mean I can be he still doesn’t do anything like that and he will easily say ”I love you“ so many times that I often think “why is he so nice around me” he has taught me so much but he isn’t perfect he has an extremely explosive temper when I am not around and he is paranoid like really paranoid like he tapes his phone cameras and won’t turn off airplane mode until norton antivirus is doing everything possible paranoid but in the end I don’t blame him I’ve seen so many websites that you can literally illegally watch peoples ring doorbell cameras and even their selfie cameras on their phone without them knowing my mom has gotten way better with her temper still might crash out and make her self look extremely unstable she buys me more things and shows care for me more but I can’t swallow pills and there are not many options for medications that fit my need that can be in liquid form or be dissolvable so I am stuck changing meds all the time and retrying old meds that got taken off for a good reason I take 5ml of Fluoxetine liquid a 0.5 mg orally dissolving tablet of risperidone which was taken off because it was “making my female hormones to high” which probably has something to do with my grandpa saying “your gonna grow tits” and at night I sprinkle one 40mg capsule of Jornay PM into apple sauce and eat the spoonful and for the past 7 months I get these uncontrollable movements that change each day like one day It will be me jumping and squeezing every muscle in my body really tight and another day it will be me blinking so much that my my eyes hurt and my vision gets blurry I can’t go to the bathroom and I am always constipated I call my mom she says “I take it you missed your bus?” and I said ”I didn’t miss my bus for a stupid reason I need to go to the doctor“ I started explaining the details and she says “I am at work you should be in school goodbye“ she hangs up and leaves me at a dead end and thats where I am today writing this long ass post that probably nobody is gonna care about they yell at me almost everyday I barely see my dad they have no issue calling me whatever slur they want and I make myself breakfast lunch and dinner everyday which at this age is normal but like I said I’ve been doing it since the day I gained consciousness and the only reason I have so many valuable items that probably could be sold and produce enough profit to pay for my entire college tuition is because my mom buys things a lot more than Fixing the problems we suffer from she acts very lazy sleeps for 7 hours on nights she works 3 twelve hour shifts per week and when shes off from work she falls asleep at about 10 pm and wakes up at like 12:40 in the afternoon which is easily 14 hours of sleep and says “you never let me “relax” like carter I’m tired” she talks, makes faces and sleeps like a girl in high school she barely drinks any water instead she will drink one glass of wine and say she is healthy because she drinks a mini can of dr. pepper and I tell her I don’t want to be unhealthy I am already very underweight topping out at about 90 lbs as a 14 year old I never wear shorts and only wear short sleeves and tank tops when I go to sleep I am very skinny I am a picky eater and the 2 people I live with hate and love each other while one drinks pop and tiny amounts wine with a side of McDonalds or tomato soup the other eats only low calorie foods drinks only water and pisses so much and fasts all day while drinking vodka all of the time I have so many responsibilities I have trouble with controlling my anger I am underweight and depressed I don’t know what to do

Last year, I lost my full ride scholarship to a major university. I petitioned it due to my grandma passing, abusive relationship, and new diagnosis’s of ASD, PTSD, and OCD. I had to have a 3.0 among the 12 credit hours I took this semester… my mental health took a horrible turn. My scholarship office sent an email telling me I failed and lost my scholarship, and I cannot petition again… this is the email I wrote back. “Dear Scholarship Committee / Office of Scholarships, While I understand that my academic standing this semester was nowhere near exceptional, I am writing to ask if there is any way I could take next semester off and then try again with the appeal process next fall. If need be, I can bankrupt this semester. I know this is a strange request and that it is asking a lot. I am asking anyway, and I hope you will try to understand why. I hope you understand what it feels like to have your mind turn against you. To have your body stop responding to your brain. To tell yourself, day after day, to get out from under the protective sheath of your blanket and open your laptop, only for your body not to move. It felt like my nervous system was constantly misfiring, treating ordinary tasks as threats, shutting me down instead of allowing me to function. I was stuck in a state of fight or flight, hiding from my mind, unable to access the part of myself that knew how to function as a proper human being. Days passed without accomplishing anything. Emails piled up unanswered. Notices from my apartment complex about rent. Messages from work asking where I had been. My door stayed closed for days at a time. I stopped showing up to places and eventually stopped responding to people. My parents called constantly, worried because they hadn’t heard from me in weeks. Friends stopped texting after getting no reply. People I cared about thought I had disappeared. But I didn't, the clock may have still been ticking but my mind certainly was not. At one point, I reached out for help but went MIA, forcing the university to send officers to my apartment for a wellbeing check. That moment alone should make clear how far from “normal academic difficulty” this semester truly was. I spent a lot of time sitting alone, trying to figure out how to keep living like this. Waiting on hold with the hotline, hoping someone would tell me what to do. Taking medication after medication, hoping one of them would finally work and allow me enough room for a single breath. Spending half my time praying to God, asking for the strength to keep going and hoping that maybe, finally, the thoughts would quiet. Unless someone has lived through this, it is hard to understand how consuming and disabling it is. This is not something you can simply fight or push through. This is not something most people could survive and still function academically. Just getting through each day took everything I had. This is why my grades look the way they do. I did not fail with 50s; I failed with zeros. Not because I am incapable or unintelligent, but because I was not functioning. This semester does not reflect my ability, my work ethic, or who I am when I am well. I want to be clear that I am not asking for understanding without action. I have recently begun TMS (Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation), a non-invasive treatment for severe depression, OCD, and related conditions. I will have 36 treatments over the next two months, nearly every single day. Starting this treatment took courage, and I am fully committed to fixing myself and getting back to a place where I can succeed. I have wanted nothing more since I was little than to change the world and find peace within myself and my future. I still want that. I am asking for one more chance to try again, after taking the time I need to heal. Thank you for reading this and for considering my request.” please pray for me!

I suffer from severe treatment resistant depression, and I've never been able to achieve sufficient symptom control throughout my life. This is something I've struggled with since I was 12. I also struggled with self-harm and an eating disorder and borderline personality disorder and in the last few years a substance use disorder AKA addiction. I am currently 3 hours away from my daughter who lives with my mother because my mother has custody of her and I got a phone call tonight from my 13-year-old explaining that she had made a comment to some friends about jumping off a bridge (and I know the bridge she's talking about it wouldn't have killed her she might have gotten stuck in the mud or had to swim out of the canal) but one of her friends reported it to the guidance counselor, and so my mama took her to the ER to be evaluated and they ended up admitting her to a psych Hospital. I've been hospitalized over 30 times and in rehab three or four times in my short life. And I'm so worried that she's going to suffer the way I've suffered. And I did the best I could to comfort her and reassure her that sometimes the hospital is the best place to be even though it sucks. And selfishly I'm worried that I'm going to get the blame for the condition she's in because my struggles have such an effect on her. She was in tears saying I just want to go home and I asked her if she meant home like when we were together, and she said yes, which broke my heart just a little bit more because I'm in no position to make that happen and also my mother would fight me if I tried to take her back. So right now I'm kind of in a state of surprise or shock or some combination of the two because I know what she's going through and I know how tough it can be to be locked in a hospital with strangers. And I haven't been able to even cry about it despite the fact that my heart is breaking for her. Maybe it's my body's way of protecting me because I think if I start crying tonight I won't be able to stop. She doesn't want me to tell anyone, not even her Grandpa and grandpa that I'm currently staying with after my most recent relapse in hospitalization. And I took my Xanax like 5 hours ago and every dosed in pieces because I just want my day to be over because I feel like shit for not being more upset or for not being able to cry I feel like shit because I can't be there with her while she goes through this because my daddy lives 3 hours away from New Orleans where my daughter lives with my mama and my car is not Street ready yet so I won't even be able to go visit her and hold her and tell her that things do get better. I tried reaching out to my therapist and to several friends that don't specifically know my daughter but they know of her because I talk about it all the time and they've seen pictures of her. So while she doesn't want anyone that we know or she knows to know what's happened, I need it to talk to someone and when I couldn't that's when I took my meds and laid down and put on the show to zone out too so I could stop beating myself up over everything I've done or haven't done that's led her to this place. And the fucking meds aren't working tonight I guess because I was so wound up after speaking with my daughter before the ambulance came to transfer her to the psych Hospital. She's just so very sad. And I'm very sad. And I can feel my own depression creeping towards me, and for me to fall into a depressive episode right now is the absolute last thing I need. I'm not even really sure if this post belongs here but the subreddits for "worry" don't seem to be active because they haven't had any new posts in 4 or 5 years. So my apologies in advance if this is not an appropriate post for here, I just didn't know where else to turn.

First off it's subq, your body picks it up into the bloodstream so site injection means nothing. Second you have several side effects from this. I'm speaking from experience. Bpc can effect people with anxiety and depression or ptsd bad. Start with a low amount of this if you plan on taking it and work up. Yes it does work and is a great thing but anxiety, depression, blurred vision, slight mood changes, headaches, etc is what I personally experience at 500 mcg a day so I lowered to half and still felt some of the effects. Definitely start low please, because panic attacks can happen from the energy you get

Ryan I thought you talking shit but it turns out you are spot on!! I started taking oral bpc and first week was fine and I think most of the second week too but somewhere between 2nd and 3rd I started feeling weird.. I had no motivation and was very lethargic. Nothing interested me that normally would.. no sexual desire no desire for anything.. making dinner was a task.. after about 4-5 days I put it together and stopped and took 3-4 days till I was fully recovered.. I consider myself lucky to have recovered and so quickly.. it’s no joke guys!! You don’t wanna risk this shit!! I was kinda scared and what Ryan says is 100% true.. I should have listened…

We’re or are you able to sue the other driver?? I mean clearly unless they can safely do a colectomy ( or if a colon transplant is a thing) you will have that pain the rest of your life!! Does Quebec have any type of disability for those who can’t work- other than the program you are fighting with? I know here is the states they have disability- I was denied stating I can find other work- I had been work desk jobs since 2017 when I had disc rupture required emergency surgery and now I have limited neck movement and nerve damage down my dominant arm and hand (can’t lift more than 5 pounds). I reached out to a lawyer and I was told my best bet to get my claim approved was my major depression and anxiety. My point being, if there isn’t a disability type program are there lawyers or advocates that can help you with appealing their decision?

This will be for my family and friends should there come the day I can no longer cope with the pain and decide to give myself the gift of mercy. I can't take away their pain, but I can at least try to shed some light on what I've endured for most of my life. Many of you reading this will most certainly understand what I am explaining. ___________ This is my confession: For over twenty years this condition has ravaged my life and continues to do so despite a long procession of interventions. With each passing year the struggle only deepens as the normal aging process erodes my physical health. If you’ve never been severely depressed then you will never understand it. You will never understand the underlying thought processes and emotional turmoil. You are incapable of wilfully shutting of the part of your humanity that allows you to feel connection with others; with yourself. You cannot fathom the level of isolation and pain of the depressed mind. It is unlike any other experience. The closest comparison to depression is the grief immediately following the passing of a loved one. Except the grief is suffered in total isolation and the one who has died is you. Others may be around, may offer all they can to assuage the pain, bring sympathy and compassion and assume some of the burden. Yet none of their efforts will shine even the dimmest flicker of light into the darkness. You are alone with your misery, your emptiness, compounded by immense feelings of guilt for the sickness you feel contaminates your spirit and for the pain you cause those around you. Physical isolation feels necessary as a way to protect others from a misery you are certain will spread through your presence and to protect yourself from the relentless assault on your psyche. You suffer in silence. Alone. Your only companions are the demons that constantly remind you of all your failings, all your weaknesses, and all your inadequacies. It’s incessant. They follow you through every moment of the day for weeks, if not months, at a stretch. Sleep is the only escape and re-entry to the warmth of your soul, as the living nightmare gives way to dreams. Genuine intimacy feels impossible. When the majority of your existence is spent somewhere between mild numbness to excruciating emotional distress where do you even begin to convey your life experience and true feelings in a way that does not lead to confusion or ostracization. Your greatest fear becomes rejection and abandonment at even the mention of the truth. You fear that you will then be completely alone, both inside and out. You accept the implicit expectation that no man should be pitiful or show weakness – that he must conquer his own inner struggles. Alone. It slowly dawns on you that you cannot experience what is so common to others. You cannot have a family. You cannot have a stable and loving romantic relationship. You cannot follow a career path. You cannot really contribute much of anything to this world because too often and too unpredictably you fall off the face of the Earth. You see others around you celebrate their life milestones with weddings, baby showers, parties, vacations and gatherings. You feel a terrible longing to enjoy those moments with them. But you cannot, not because you do not want to but because you simply cannot. You go through the motions of congratulations, hugs, high fives and “I’m so happy for you”s. You feel like a fraud. An imposter. A faux friend. Your life becomes listless. Travelling is just another means of escape and no matter where you’ve gone the demons have never been far behind. It gets to the point where no activity, no venue, no space, no job has been left untainted by memories of depression. You feel the need to keep moving because to stay in place is to feel skinless in a salt mine. How much longer can you keep running before the demons catch up again? They always find you. You can run but you can’t hide. Your life becomes snippets of events that you feel are positive enough to be worth sharing while you leave shrouded the vast stretches of misery. Do you tell others about the weeks you spent laying in bed, screaming into you pillow between bouts of tears and hammering at your mattress, begging for the torment to end? Do you tell them about the portions of your travels when you locked yourself into a hotel room for days at a stretch, desperately trying to numb the pain with mindless television and web browsing? Do you tell them about the shotgun you held in your mouth for hours, watching the tears streak down the barrel as your finger hovered around the trigger and your demons taunted you to just do it? Do you tell them that the majority of your life has been spent not only inactive, but drenched in agony and in the vein pursuit of mindless distraction? No. You lie or omit to spare them a problem they cannot solve and to spare yourself the shame of a life not lived. You lie or omit to save yourself from being committed to hospital for what amounts to more of the same. You lie or omit to save yourself from the fear of being ostracized. Sometimes you genuinely forget, not because you are suppressing the memories but because those memories are state dependent. In your better times you wonder why you remember so little of high school and your college years onward. Your life seems oddly distorted, as if huge chunks are missing from the story – chapters torn from the script. Then another depression episode arrives and you remember the past all so vividly. The body senses the pain and rather than lift the depression it deepens it to the point of numbness. The pain lessens as the walls go up. But while it keeps out the bad, it also blocks the good. You are dead in all but body. You get tired of dying. Suicidal thoughts become escape fantasies. Since depression has robbed you of the ability to feel any positive emotions while hammering you with all the negative ones, the daydreams of a better life become inaccessible. The anticipation of better times that carry so many people through their struggles – that hope – cannot be grasped. Without a view onto a life of living the mind turns to look the other way. Death becomes appealing; a reasonable option vis-à-vis current circumstances. It seems so much closer, only one swift action away. Yet the fear of death, our most potent instinct, presents a tremendous obstacle. And so the fantasies suffice in the coping. The most dangerous times are not when you are plumbing the depths of despair, but when you unwittingly take that first step onto the slippery slope, into the quicksand. It’s only when you realize that you are beginning to fall back into the pit that the terror hits you. The memories come flooding back. You are going back to Hell, and in that very first realization of it you are already there. You don’t want to go back. You can’t go back. You can never go back! Not again. Please, God, not again. No. NO! Suicidal fantasies become suicidal ideations. They become a very real option very suddenly. You would rather die than suffer the torment again and in what feel like precious moments when you still have the energy and the determination you make ready. Depression is not a reaction. It is a state of mind. It is not an emotion. It is an existential framework through which life is experienced. It is foundational. Fundamental. Depression alters more than mood – it changes a person at their core. Personality, beliefs, outlooks and values fall under an inky shadow that suffocates all the goodness you naively believed were immutable. The deeper the depression, the greater the displacement, the greater the pain as you realize the monster or zombie you become. Depression does more than hurt. Depression kills. It kills your dreams, passions, interests and pursuits. It kills your ability to connect, empathize, and feel compassion, joy, peace or harmony. It kills your heart. It kills your soul. Eventually for some, after having been killed so many times it’s no wonder they decide to kill their body so that they have only to experience death but one final time. And once you take that fateful final step it kills a part of your loved ones who must carry with them the pain of your tragic demise. After a while you realize that the only consistent goal you have set for yourself is to die. You long for the moment. You want it to come sooner. Even in the better times you hold on to the option though you never then give it voice or attention. Medications provide a backstop, a type of failsafe that prevents the pain from reaching intolerable levels. Yet they are not the cure and come with side effects that can compound the episodes when they do strike. You feel almost at a greater loss when you find yourself back in the dungeons despite the false promises of a lifetime of liberation you had earlier convinced yourself of. Now what? What’s left to try? Time with family and friends, nutrition, exercise and purposeful activities form a bulwark that can slow the assault, but are never enough to keep the intruders out. They lay siege and chip away at your defenses, waiting for you to make a mistake, to be looking the other way, to be distracted. You rationalize that it eventually does get better. Vitality returns. A sense of purpose is reignited from the embers of your diminished spirit. But even in the best moments of your life you know the depression is still there and that it will come back. Your flame will flicker into a wisp of smoke only to be fanned back to a brilliant light, like a candle in a warm wind until the day comes when you finally muster the courage to either extinguish the flame forever or finally find a way to shield it.

The title and this story may sound fake (New account to hopefully protect my identity), but I swear to you it could not be more real for me. I wanted to share this, I am not doing this for attention but merely to seek help. More questions will be asked at the end of my story. As the title describes, a miracle has occurred given the severity and intent of the crash. The paramedics, police, doctors, nurses and my parents all gave me the most puzzled look of their lives when they asked how fast I was going, and I replied "200 km/h". I have been depressed for 4 years now. Nothing has been working and my mental health has declined terribly. I have been on multiple medications, tried behavioural therapy such as cognitive behaviour therapy (CBT), and even went a course of Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). First my motivation to do anything went down; I couldn't eat, do school work and most importantly, socialize. My social circle grew smaller as my depression grew bigger, after 4 years of suffering as well as other health conditions such as horrible eyesight (+10.00 in each eye with astigmatism), sleep apnea and anxiety, I figured life wasn't going to get any better and I decided to end my life. I drove to the mountains where I decided I would find a large hill, go full speed down it and either turn into the median or drive off the road, ultimately killing myself. About 3 hours from my hometown I found the perfect hill, The road was steep, perfect for gaining speed to ensure a fatal crash. Without thinking too much (I would just talk myself out and not commit), I pulled a U-turn and drove to the hill which was about 5 minutes after that point. They say your life flashes before your eyes, mine played back to me for those 5 minutes. The most important people and influential moments of my life appeared before my eyes. They suddenly disappeared as I approached my chosen hill. My foot automatically floored the gas pedal, I placed my left foot behind the brake so I wouldn't back out. I raced down the hill, gaining more and more speed, by the time I reached the bottom, my car (which only has a speedometer for up to 200 km/h. I saw the road start to bend and I jerked my wheel into the opposite direction of the turn, slamming the front end of the car into the median. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in my car, with tapping on the window from bystanders. All I could think to myself at that moment was "wow, I so much of a failure I can't even kill myself". A bystander described to the paramedics and police that I hit the median, did about 10 spins (no flips) and then continued to scrape median down the hill for another 250m. I got a glimpse of my car before I was taken away in an ambulance, it was completely destroyed. When I arrived to the hospital I was placed in the trauma room however, the doctor was incredibly surprised after seeing me sitting upright with consciousness after a 200 km/h car accident. He assessed me and ordered a full-body CT scan. The results came back clean, no bleeding, no broken bones and most importantly, no death. He then admitted me to the psychiatry ward (which I won't get into on this post but it was a nightmare!!!). The everyone's surprise I was barely injured, walking away with a concussion with memory loss at most. This phrase really stuck in my mind because nearly every person I have talked to so far has said: "It's a miracle you're alive". I'm not religious, but I agree, it is a miracle I'm alive, and I"m not going to waste it. I'm begging for help because I know this community loves to help people when they reach out. I really want to try and beat my depression but I don't know how. I have tried CBT, I'm going BACK to ECT for another round of treatment and I'm on increased medication. I will be seeing counsellors and psychiatrists, however thanks to Canadian healthcare not until 2020 (which is one of the reasons I decided to end it, due to lack of resources). If anyone out there has any tips on how to manage severe depression and anxiety please let me know. I'm still alive today despite the severity of the crash, and I believe it's a sign that I need to conquer this depression and do something great with my life. I am tired of laying at home, with no energy and no motivation, wasting away my life every day with my depression. I can personally say even those who are suiciding don't want to die, they merely just want to stop existing. Please help with any advice you have, I'm begging for my life to change, please. I am trying my best to push past my depression and suicidal thinking so I can give life another try. Here are a list of specific questions that would benefit a lot: \-How do I keep up my motivation despite having no energy all the time? \-How can I keep up or have more energy? \-I'm thinking of going back to school for Nursing, my current position (lab tech) doesn't feel fulfilling and I'm looking for something more. Is nursing school a good idea or will that just make my life more stressful?) \-What are some habits I could do to alleviate my depression \-Any secret self-help/feel good tips? \-How do I make more friends and build a better support network? \-What do I tell to my friends who have noticed I just "disappeared" for a few days? ​ Thanks to those who took the time to read this post, I usually get little to no reads on Reddit but I thought I'd share this anyway since not many people can say they survived a 200 km/h automobile suicide attempt and walked out with minor injuries. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. Edit: more questions Edit 2: Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to write to me. I truly didn't believe this would reach this many people. I will try and reply/read everyones post but I am still in the process of seeing a lot of specialists. But I am truly grateful for all the love and support that has been sent my way. Thank you, I will make you all proud and try my best to implement all of the tips into my life.

Hey there I’m a 27 year old woman ivbeen struggling with depression self hate and anxiety as long as I can remember literally. From a young age my dad didn’t care about my feelings or mental health so I was never able to get help. ( all iv ever wanted is him to be proud of me) I was bully’s at school but that was life it was at home with his family that the bullying hurt the most I was always compared to my little sister Dayly I was fat and dumb and weak and a baby. But I was always a good kid I mean all kids make mistakes but by grade 3 I was packing me and my sisters lunch’s by choice so my mom could rest (she worked shift work it was hard on her) and never asked for much never threw tantrums I always said yes and all I ever wanted was to make my parents and other adult family members happy that became who I was my baby sister was born right before I turned 11 with in months I was babysitting (her first words and steps were with me when my parents where at soft ball) cooking for the family and by my dad blamed when ever anything happened do to my sisters if they drew on the wall it was wtf Elizabeth why wernt you watching them clean it up now ffs even thou he was downstairs gameing.along with house chores if I forgot to do the dishwasher and he came home to me, unloading it he would unload on me. When I was 12 years old I got mono I got diagnosed with strep throat 3 or so times because the meds never worked for more then 2 weeks. Before they finally found out it was mono. Because it went undiagnosed for so long and my dad told me that I was just lazy and needed to get up do more so I tryed . My body started to shut down. I ended up out of school for two months because I slept 23 hours a day only able to be awake for 10 mins at a time be for passing back out completely I stopped eating because I physically couldn’t. There was a big golf ball size lump in my throat that hurt notably . I lost so much weight. It was crazy. Then I remember the first day I could eat in 2 weeks I made a bowl of soup and I ate it in my parents bedroom by the TV in the bed. My mom made me because I was so sick and I passed back out My dad came home that day and instead of being happy that I could eat for the first time in a week. He woke me up screaming at me and told me to get my lazy ass up and clean up… that was the first time I wanted to kill myself I didn’t wanna live anymore. I was barely able to stay awake for more than 30 mins at this point my dad didn’t care he didn’t care that I was on my deathbed. He didn’t care that I finally could eat nothing just that I was lazy….. my mom came home just in time to stop me she never knew but I knew if she hadn’t come home when she had I was about yo try and end my life. After that I think part of me knew my dad would never love me like I had always hoped I could make him so I just did what I could to keep him happy and not provoke him. My mom was such a loving woman she always tryed to be there for me and help me with my feelings but she never understood me I am an extremely emotional person truly but she tryed to stand up for me once she started to see it ……. Every time she did they’d fight hed make her sleep on the couch call her horable names loud enough for the neighbours to hear it Iwas 14 I remember praying night after night that he’d leave and not come back I was a dumb child sick of being scared well my wish came true just befor I turned 15 he packed his things and left… I regreted ever prayed for it it hurt my mom and sisters so much and even myself I hated how he treated me but he was my dad and I loved him so much he started dateing a crazy jail gaurd and I mean a freaking nut case who treated her kids like pons telling her kids to tell me I should move in with them it was messed up. A few months after they broke up we had a vist planed I was actually existed and we went to his best friends house for dinner to do the exchange there….. my dad never came to get us his girlfriend went to Calgary with some fiends and decided she wasn’t willing to stay the night there with them so she demanded my dad come get her and he did….. he left her not long after because my dad found out a lot of her lies but that couldn’t take away the pain of her meaning more to him in that moment I need my dad during this time my mom went crazy to she knows it and has apologized many many times. But she wasn’t there I became the mom in my house at 15 years old there were days where I had to call around to find her so that I wasn’t late for work because I couldn’t leave my sister’s home alone. one time I woke up and her boyfriend was staring at me sleeping on the couch making comments about how I don’t look 15 witch was scary It took a while for my mom to get better but she did and I remember being more like friends after that I rarly saw my dad for the rest of my teen years mostly big family things he never asked me to see him and he lived with my grandmother and aunt who were very mean to me as a child so I just didn’t ask to go there. At 16 I was able to drink with family and close friends and my parents had a mutual for me my dad’s best grind since like 12….. this man would get me drunk on perpose the. Start unloading any negitive thing my dad had said about me to me it would brake my heart every time then he’d sit there and tell me he loved me and he knew I was a great young woman how beutiful I was he groomed me by useing my fathers words agest me and convincing me he loved me he took advantage of me while drunk once then by stoping the car in the middle of nowhere during driving lessons . When I was 17 I was struggling bad at my school with bullying from students and teacher I couldn’t go more then 2 days with out a cold sore out brake it was just bad i was working pretty steady by this point and I asked. My mom to let me drop out for the rest of the year and start new at a difrent school the next year to finish my grade 12 ……. Well my dad came by to talk about this decision we had made he flipped and made it very clear I was just making up excuses and that he knew I’d never graduate I went back I worked a lot and made sure I got good grades I graduated when I said I would …. But no one seamed to care or belive me I never had a Grad my mom was stretched so thin I never let her take on more for me if I could help it (at16 I was told I need a tooth moved from the roof of my mouth it would take surgery and braces and I told the dr I’d never let her do it I refuse to get braces she either cut it out or leave it but I will never let them fix it) so the expenses of grad where somthing I could not bear puting on her and my dad never asked or even believed I would so I just went with out…… After everyone I went to school with had grad I was so sad so I asked my parents if we could have a fancy dinner to celebrate just us adults I was 18 by now (I’m the oldest in the family all around for my generation) they agreed my dad asked if he could bring his girl friend I agreed the day the dinner came he showed up with his girlfriend and her daughter who is a year younger then me she was always perfect I felt like I had been slapped in the face All I asked was for oneMoment to be about me being good enough and instead he payed more attention to his gf and her daughter then his little girl siting right in frount of him. To this day my dad seems to barely be able to look at me and it kills me I’m not successful at all and I know that i have made a lot of back choices when it come to love and work but iv always been a good person. Kind respectful loving ………. Idk if I’ll ever be able to make my dad proud I know he loves my kids but I feel like he can only tolerate me for the sake of seeing them. I’m know I’m a very emotional person and that I am to nice iv been walked all over stollen from and cut down by many people I trusted in life but I always. back to him to my dad the man that was supost to love me unconditionally the one who was supost to protect me it feels like all iv ever been to him is a disappointment I know I can’t change anything about it but I need to let some of this one I can’t stop thinking about how little I seemed to mean to him and how broken it left me over the years

I’m 21, and some may say this age, is the best life gets. If that’s the case then I don’t want to live another day. Where I am mentally right now, is the WORST I have ever felt. There is no joy left in life anymore. Since was 16 or so, my mental health has been deteriorating rapidly, every single fucking thing makes me anxious now, I get so irritable and angry, it’s exhausting. All this anxiety, self loathing and pure hatred of this awful planet we live on leaves me absolutely fucking hopeless and at the end of my rope, with depression and the lowest my self esteem has ever been. There is so much pain to go through if I live to old age. More heartbreak, the loss of loved ones, financial hardship, ect, ect.. If I’m feeling this awful now when I’m not dealing with most of this, how the fuck will I cope in later life when the going actually gets tough, and isn’t all in my broken brain? Suicide sounds like the best option right now. All of this just ending, the anxiety, the pure dread and fucking sadness that owns my life just going away forever is a lovely thought. However, I couldn’t dare do that to my family or the other couple of people in my life who would mourn me. The pain I’d pass on, the blaming of themselves for not knowing what I was going through or feeling that they didn’t do enough, there’s no way man. So I guess that’s it then. Stuck here, in this body, with this fucked up mind, this disgusting shell of a person. I never asked to be alive man. Fuck this.

I am very sorry to read about how hard it is for you to live with depression. You sound absolutely exhausted with the constant battle to keep living your life when the self-hatred makes every waking second mental torture. Nobody wants to live like that. Suicide makes perfect sense to a person who doesn’t want to live in constant pain anymore. But I’m glad that you have decided that suicide is not an option because I don’t want you to die. Neither do your loved ones. I am here telling you not to suicide not because I don’t believe that you have a good reason to want to die, but because you are absolutely correct when you say that you would inflict overwhelming pain on the people who love you if you killed yourself. Make no mistake about it, your suicide would be a devastating loss and your loved ones may never fully recover from the grief. I am glad that you are talking about considering suicide as an alternative to living with your feelings. Keep talking. This is because talking about suicide gives those around you the opportunity to repeat what I said before and that is that we do not want you to die and we are definitely NOT better off without you. I wish I could say something to make it easier for you to live when living is so hard, but I don’t have any magic words. We need you here.

Since a teen, I dealt with depression/seasonal depression and its been an on and off thing that i try to control or just speak on when I can. i knew my online friends for 6+ Plus and one day i just started to really look at them and get sad. I dont know if this was the start of my seasonal depression starting or not, but something in my gut kept telling me that im slowly maturing from them. We’re all in our 20’s, play the same games and would hang out or be on the phone alot. I would just find myself spacing out sometimes when they play games or just no longer feel happy to be around, so I would just either leave the game or just hang up without an answer. Ever since i had to break up with my ex (i left because i felt disrespected alot even though my ex and i were deeply in love, its just alot he does i really dont like and when i speak on it, its just never clicking to him as it should) but ever since i did leave him, my depression came back FULLY. I began to feel suicidal again, very depressed, didnt want to talk. My friends was there for me even for that and i appreciated them for it. Even when I didnt want to have anyone around really i let people in anyway just so i didnt worry anyone. Even at this time my ex and I were good friends + along with my other friend who was like a sister to me. My depression was off and on for a few weeks, i tried to reconcile with my ex (bad idea at the time) and i forced myself to be around people for the sake of it because i needed support, but i just felt like their support wasnt reciprocated enough? There would be times i would need someone to speak to and how they would go about things it would feel very dismissive or im overreacting. I dealt with family constantly dismissing my feelings or getting upset at me for being emotional (which my friends would complain about too) So i just felt like if i did therapy as usual then it would help. It was helping for a few weeks to a few months, and then the depression randomly came back. One day, i was already tired and working on a room on the game i play, i was already tensed and tired so i was trying to finish up. My friends came in the room just in there telling me what i should change or what looked a mess, i never tired to get angry or anything but i was calm until i was being pushed to say something, so i went from being already tensed and tired to crying and feeling drained. I didnt talk to them for 3 days because i just wanted my space, so then my ex called and i didnt want to speak to him either because of the mini argument we had while i was decorating. When i was fixing my rooms up, he felt like i should of put something a certain way, and i told him that im still fixing it, he continued to say more and more like “well it looks cluttered” and i told him “well thank god its not your room” and he said slick shit like “even if it was it still looks cluttered” so it made me irritated because i kept telling him that i wasnt finished.. i kicked him out. So after i took a little couple days off to relax, i had a practice to go to where my other friend also was at a dance practice. Basically on this virtual game they have fashion shows, dance shows etc so we would have to practice on certain days, she dod try to reach out also but i really didnt feel comfortable talking to anyone so i kept it short. I went to practice, something happened with the google doc so everything was messed up. I already did not want to be there but i really did not want to bring any of my emotions into something i needed to finish. So i was becoming more agitated because everything was messed up, im just over it and me and my friend get into an argument basically in front of our other dancers. I didnt like how she was doing it in front of them because they did not need to see any of it, but then everyone got involved. We had a meeting, and thats when i basically had to tell people i been dealing with my depression alot. And no matter what therapist, hotline i talked to, i been in so much pain since October. And the breakup wasnt really all of the things that happened but it just so happened to my biggest blow up. I’ve had to leave someone i loved alot, but he just can be so supportive but also not understanding what i need or talk about, a friend i seen as a little sister and she was there. We sat on the phone with people we barely really know about me wanting to unalive myself, and even at the moment and all the stress i was in. So at that point i just explained that whenever im stressed or very depressed i go into isolation to protect myself because i know how my emotions are. Then i talked to my ex and friend 1 on 1 about it and this is what basically was the rundown: When i explained why i went off on him about the decoration situation: i wrote a list out of what was happening, why it happened etc (spent hours on it and sent it to him) he called me basically telling me to explain it because it was too much. When i explained how i felt, im being told that i cant take constructive criticism when i didnt ask him at all, which i kept explaining, he felt as i should tell them when i felt how i felt (i agreed but i just really felt so mentally, physically, and emotionally sick to tell them the day of) i got told i have an ego problem and they felt like i should of thought how they would feel about me not saying anything to them (threw me off). But i didnt want to think about anyone else’s feelings but MINE. For the longest I’ve been there for everyone and tried to be a helping hand when i should of spent more time for myself. He felt like “coming to check on me every other month” which was fine, but we still kept contact My other friend: we had a talk alone because i really disliked how in the beginning, she felt as i was ignoring her and it was about her, she went into our own iMessage group chat yelling in all caps about how i should tell them things etc and i didnt want to argue at all so i just kept replying with “okay” “thats fine” because they’ve done it to me MANY OF TIMES whenever i spoke on something. I just felt like it was hypocritical to even deny that they never have. She decided to keep distance and i respected that. They both wanted me to tell them whenever i felt awful and tell them. So i tried to at least be open around them and they became isolated themselves from me which was fine. I was in contact with my therapists. So, i just found out a while ago that a friend i actually liked and helped w her relationships problems, she waited until i left my ex and was trying to get close to him until i asked her. So now since that didnt work, my ex basically told me that she’s allegedly dating one of my old situationships and i been uncomfortable and hurt ever since. My depression came back again and i had the urge to tell my ex that if anything happens to me, I tried.” I posted that to my social media instead because I’m very open about my mental health and not scared to share my story of depression. I started reposting feeling depressed, scared of my mental health.. i felt like my mind was deteriorating and i was close to having a mental breakdown it felt. My ex ended up texting me saying “go take a nap” and i just felt like it wasnt going to help especially if i felt it for days, not even talking to professionals was helping me either. But once i felt like my body told me to self harm, i quickly texted the Nami hotline and spoke to someone, i told my ex to go on about whatever he was doing because im feeling like he’s not being helpful at all and i rather talk to someone who can handle it (it just felt like he wasnt caring really to talk to me) so then he was more focused one saying “thats my point” so i responded “Ok” i was feeling very nervous, my anxiety was through the roof and i didnt want to argue. That day i felt like i was going to be gone. not my ex called or even asked if i was okay after, not the friend that seemed like a sister to me, None of them did. And after a week it really hurt because i didnt know if i would be okay or not. Only one person im not as close with actually checked on me. Now, My ex has unadded me every thing just be petty of course, but i havent really cares about what he does. Now that whole thing happened, i made a new tiktok, instagram etc and i stopped speaking to them. Its just so hard to explain my feelings to them without feeling judged or feeling dismissed.

A few days ago, I (17F) got into a really intense argument with my brother (16M). It wasn’t just about one thing, I ended up breaking down afterward over all the ways I’ve felt mistreated in my family, how lacking I feel in experience, and how my entire life just sort of hit me all at once. I haven’t really left my room except to eat two slices of bread a day. That’s all I can bring myself to eat. I haven’t showered, changed my clothes, or spoken to anyone willingly. I feel so gross, as I typically shower once daily twice if my mom wouldn’t shout about the water bill. I covered my window with a blanket because my sleep is completely messed up. I sleep during both day and night; I often don’t know whether I’m waking up at 3 p.m. or 3 a.m. My body feels extremely weak, and I was terribly dehydrated. I’ve been very particular about my water intake before this, so it scared me. What really hit me was noticing my tears were incredibly salty. I can notice all the signs and want to help myself, but I just can’t do it. Even the thought of getting up and seeing my face in the mirror scares me. I haven’t been this bad in years. I’m not a lazy person. I used to clean the entire house excessively every weekend. Before all of this, I was staying up at night to take care of my baby sister so my mom could get some rest. I also take care of my grandmother, making her meals and tea. A few weeks prior, I cleaned the entire basement and washroom for my brother to help him get a start on keeping tidy, though I admittedly complained a lot. Part of the argument with my brother comes from the fact that I was avoiding confrontation with him for my mother’s sake. I took over his only chore, which was taking out the garbage, and I even did his dishes. My mom didn’t seem to care or notice with the garbage, she just began telling me to do it. Similarly with the dishes, when they would pile up, she would rant solely at me about them. With my brother, I guess knowing I would handle his dishes made him feel like he could use as many unnecessary dishes and objects as possible when he “cooked.” I’ve been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, and I’m currently on antidepressants. My mom knows about my mental health, but it feels like she only cares at the bare minimum level. She yells for me from the hallway or downstairs at least once a day, asking if I’m okay. Earlier today, she asked me to come eat dinner. Later, she caught me in the kitchen and asked why I stay in my room all day. She first said it in her native language, even though she knows I only understand a little, then repeated it in English. I just said I didn’t want to come downstairs. She went on a broken-English rant and ended it with something like, “And you’ll say you just don’t want to be around people.” Even when I am around her, I just feel like I’m there to help her and the baby. Anything I say gets a standard, uninterested response. A few weeks back, I just wanted someone to talk to about the dishes my brother had been leaving. I didn’t want her half-assed responses, so I tried coming downstairs to watch TV with her. I sat there for two hours, engaging with her and the show. Afterward, I tried to begin the conversation, and she kept cutting me off to talk about the baby. She ended it with a shrug. Besides how this post appears, I love being around my little sister, I’d say I’m even more protective of her than my mother. It’s killing me not being able to hold her and see her adorable face. I’ve pushed my friends away. I don’t talk to anyone unless I absolutely have to. I’ve tried calling my dad a few times, but he doesn’t answer. He called back once five days ago, but I wasn’t with my phone and missed it. I feel extremely isolated, and even more so, pathetic. I feel weak, like compared to most people, this is all it takes for me to fall. Like comparing paper cuts to stab wounds.

Hello everyone, this is a "burner account" even though my actual account doesn't necessarily have anything memorable or identifiable. I do sincerely apologize for how long this turned out to be, if you do read this. I appreciate you, and if you didn't read this, I still appreciate you for even taking a gander. I am 31 years old, not that age matters but it plays a role in my world. I have been depressed for years, majority of my life I would say. I was abused physically as a child from my dad and sexually from my babysitters son. I never told anyone the latter, in a weird sick twisted way I liked it but I didn't at the same time. Such a weird concoction. Never really had friends growing up and had a stomach problem back then when IBS wasn't treatable that it ruin my social life as well. I wasn't mad about not having friends I mostly played games, watched anime and just geek out and to me that was fun. 2008 was somewhat of a turning point as we hit a recession and my mother unfortunately was one of the victims and we got evicted from our apartment. I remember one day so vividly I called my father for help at his gym that he owned at the time, I'll never forget the venom that dripped from his voice and how cold my blood ran when he said "don't you dare call this number again ever, you hear me?" I was like 11 or 12 at the time, his girlfriend worked with him who at the time knew what she was doing and plotted her way into the family and ruined it. He had a daughter with her.. I have a 15 year old half sister. Can you guys believe that? I mean I sure as shit can, he left that family as well unsurprisingly BUT he made sure he left her a job that makes 6 figures. We didn't get that, Im happy for them I guess or something along that line that everyone says. Anyways back to my sob story, had two serious boyfriends in my life, the first was my everything but hated towards the end because he cheated on me but great lesson and Im actually happy for him! He has two kids and everything he wanted. Then my second heart break or maybe my final not sure, he came around but holy crap did I not listen to my gut- she was screaming in the back of my mind saying " He is not over his ex (fiancé I might add) and he is showing you everything and you feel it he's not right for you, why aren't you listening ?!?" But for some reason, I needed him, I loved him and he was good for me but not really. Anyways, two years down the drain and I just knew something was wrong one day, he picked up his phone and said he is playing scrabble with the boys.. which made no sense cause he complained about that game and has dyslexia- or at least thats what he always said in the past when we did anything with spelling or whatever. So my brain said "check her instagram" low and behold they're following each other and got married a couple months later, Its funny... his mom his own damn mother started apologizing to me, not him but her. From what the family told me and what he told me in the start about her is that she cheated on him (funnily enough before we fell into a relationship I blurted out, somewhere down the line you're going to go back to her and its gonna hurt me.. but please stop talking bad about her, of course he said no he would never.. oh how the turn tables). I had to tell his mother to stop talking bad about her and her son is happy so just be patient and everything will be okay. Oddly enough on my birthday this past September his aunt messaged me (which is weird because why?) telling me she didn't get invited to the gender reveal and their excuse was they wanted something intimate but her whole side of the family is invited. I don't think I needed to know that, I didn't know how to respond to the message as she said she thinks it had something to do with me, I said it had nothing to do with me but you can unfollow me and maybe that will help? She said hell no lol. Before anyone says something like you should've unfollowed them from the start... you're right I should've but a part of me wanted to be in a family, a big beautiful family, thats loving and warm. See I didn't have that growing up, I yearn for it. Holidays get really depressing for me, the older I get the more I just sit with my sadness, I don't even think it's a diagnosis of chronically depressed... at this point, it's me- my soul. I like to explain it like Im naturally depressed, I get seasonally happy but for such a short period of time. I just quit my job, wasn't good for me, the medical field drained me. I think during Covid is just showed me how nasty the world can be, not just in the "ew they're coughing on everything" but the nasty that is so dark, the greed, the hate. I dont think people actually love people anymore. I stopped believing in God, or at least im trying to. How can someone so holy create so much pain. I will not get further into this as I know everyone has thoughts and feelings about it and they're heavy, but all those kids who died in Gaza.... they're kids, babies even, all those innocent lives. They love God but where was the protection? I didn't grow up being in a partial religion I should add.. I grew up Muslim but not really, then when my father left I didn't know what to follow, my mom is Christian so I just threw the towel and just believed in a or the God. Then I get into thoughts of where was God when I was getting hurt from the person thats supposed to protect me. Where was God when my Father was also beating up my mom? Where? I went off in a tangent there.. anyways I've been meaning to rid myself for a while. My body says otherwise, my mind is weak, I want to go. I want to end this. There are no happy thoughts. Life has not been good. Im not adding the whole story of course.. this post is longer than anticipated... I have no one, I dont have proper income even though I still have a part time job in retail, it's not much. Im in debt. I have no friends, I try to make them.. but it's hard. My thoughts win all the time, I want to go.. disappear.. There is a pit in my chest it's empty and I have turned meaner not just to me but to everyone. When I say meaner, I think people do not deserve the basic curtesy of human kindness anymore. No one says thank you or please anymore. People are rude, Im just one person but has anyone seen how bad humans affected animals? they're getting beaten, berated, killed for enjoyment. I wish I could help animals but im just one person who has nothing to her name. I do have pets.. I love them so much but I have failed my dog as he always ends up in the ER cause he gets into everything and anything lol.. I didn't train him right too.. he's very overreactive but he is still a puppy, I try training him and it is working sometimes but again- he is a puppy and he is trying to show dominance. I had three cats... I had to put one of babies down in August.. I still cry about him every night. I cant do it three more times.. ya know? There are no words to explain that, no amount of tears, no amount of hugs- nothing. I had my mom there with me. I love her to death too I must mention. I always vowed to rid myself if she leaves too... The thing is my father is back in the picture and she still goes back to him... I dont get it. I try to be respectful.. I do.. it's so hard. I did try therapy, psychiatrist.. the psych ward... got held in one for 3 days when I was in high school. Im just tired. Mentally tired. I do not want to live anymore- I dont want my life. I want to give my life to someone who DOES want to live, who HAS a purpose, who has people who love them. Kids who are legit.. kids.... I would give my life for theirs. I dont want to live at all.. They can have my time if that makes sense. Im there for people and people aren't there for me.. Im the issue I guess. Im not sure. But im tired of being lonely, I haven't really done anything bad but I do see bad people living great life and then innocent people dying young or barely surviving. I will find the means to kill myself, I'll sort out my babies first so they will be okay, they shouldn't suffer. My mom will suffer unfortunately but.. she shouldn't. If there is a God I hope he sheds some light and frees the weight if her heart as she deserves the world, not me. I the fucked up daughter who's 31 and didn't have a great life, didn't dabble in drugs, didn't do stupid stuff. Finished college, never found a footing or her path. I have nothing to show for myself. I am useless and a waste of space. I cant live like this. this sad, this loneliness, this painful yearning to be loved, to be wanted, to be seen. It's worse than hunger. Im sorry if this violates any rules.. It doesn't get better, it hasn't gotten better. I know I'm only 31 but I have been alive for a while already and all I've seen and felt is pain, sadness, lost, empty and everything not so fun. Im sorry if this triggers anyone, I do not want pity.. I just want ears or eyes to read it... I don't know what I'm asking for.. but apologize for the length. I hope everyone has a wonderful evening or day and please take care of yourself.

**Preface - DO NOT BLAME MY EX OR SAY ANYTHING BAD ABOUT HER. I STILL LOVE HER AND DONT BLAME HER FOR ANYTHING. SHE WAS MY HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART AND WAS WITH ME THROUGH 15 YEARS INCLUDING 4 YEARS OF THE WORST MENTAL AND PHYSICAL ABUSE BY MY DAD. I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY BAD MOUTHING OR BLAMING HER. IF YOU DO, I WILL REPORT YOU** This year f***ing sucks. First I lost my job in April. Then I tried pivoting into a new career field but failed to get into the training because of past mistakes in August and now I lost the only shread of goodness I had. So, Wednesday (11/12/25) I had a major depressive episode and shut down for 2 days which lead my then girlfriend to believe I was ghosting her. Well, I didn’t know how she felt and Friday (11/14/25) she broke up with me. The one good piece of love and support I had. Gone. Not because I cheated. Not because I abused her. Not because anything I purposely did. Because of my depression. The fact that for whatever reason when I get depressed I shut out everyone around me. Including her. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just does. For the first 18 years of my life, I was taught that no one cares. No one wants to hear your problems. Deal with them on your own. So naturally I grew up into that. I curse it with every breath I take, because I know it’s toxic and bad for my mental health but if you grew up blind and were told your whole life the sky is green, you are gonna believe it because that’s all you have been told. She was the motivator. The spark of hope I had to not give up. We had plans to get married and start a life together and become happy ever after. In fact, she was the reason I am still here because when I lost my job in April, I was on a train ride home and all of a sudden, I had a suicide by train ideation. After a minute though, I thought of her and how she would be and shook it off. I called her my Angel because that is what she was. For the past 15 years, she was there. She took me in as her boyfriend which protected me from my dad’s stupid homophobic verbal assaults. (I had anxiety and didn’t talk to anyone, especially girls and he thought I was homosexual). She was there when my great grandma died in 2019 and my Grandpa in 2021 (who was closer to a dad than my bio dad). She was there for it all. Sure, we have had ups and downs and in and out of the relationship but those were my fault. I put people before us and I learned my lesson. I was trying to better myself and prove it by putting her first. I cut out the bad friends who brain washed me against her. I was trying to find a job or get into a career training but nothing was working. However, I did not get discouraged because I had her by my side. Now she’s gone, and I feel so hopeless. My whole body aches physically (headaches, back aches, stomach aches) My mind can’t think straight. I see her everywhere I look because we shared so many memories of places we’ve been. I tried clearing her from my phone but there’s 100’s of pictures and a play list of 3+ hours of her favorite music. It’s all a piece of me. Like woven into the fabric of who I am. I would trade ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING to go back and reassure her I wasn’t ghosting her. To repair the damage my depression caused… but I can’t. It’s too late. The damage has been done and I tried so hard once I realized it but you know the old saying “A day late and a dollar short”. It’s too late and too little now. So now I’m left holding The broken pieces of myself and the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I just wish there was a magic button that would erase me from existence. Not just death… but a true erasure. Everyone one I have ever met. My ex. My family. My friends. Coworkers. Church members Anyone who has a memory of me, just wiped clean like the nuralizer from Men In Black Then once everyone’s memory was wiped clean of the stain I am, I wish it would just poof me away in a cloud of black smoke. Painless and simple. A genie wish type of erasure. That way no one has to live with the memories of me. That way my life is truly wiped clean from the history of the universe. That way no one gets hurt by me again. ———————— If you are reading this and have depression please take my advice.. SEEK HELP. Regardless of gender, there is nothing wrong in admitting to needing help. Especially when it comes to matters of the mind and mental health. Dont be a stupid twit like me and ignore it or shut down, even if the world tells us men to. In the USA you can dial or text 988 to talk to the mental health crisis line who can hook you up with resources to help you.

I genuinely don't know how to feel anymore. Thus, there were years of social isolation, loneliness, pain, anguish. So many bad feelings, and so many bad habits. I reached a plateau, I can no longer feel anything extraordinary. I stopped being able to be natural, I'm broken. My entire adolescence was surrounded by depressive episodes, always during school holidays. My ADHD along with my depression didn't allow me to build a routine. In other words, whenever the holidays arrived, I went into chaos. I didn't know what to do, so I stopped doing it. It was a slow evolution, it was four years of depression. Going from mild symptoms to a suicide attempt. So, in the first year I was very happy, I laughed every day at school, and said I was unbeatable (I was young). Everything was going well until the school holidays arrived. Isolation began, and symptoms emerged. I started to feel anxiety, I stopped sleeping well, I started eating compulsively, I was surrounded by bad thoughts, but I was still "fine". That was the first year, the happy young man, who said he was unbeatable, was still happy with his friends. In the second year, everything changed. The year-end holidays were heavy, I went through an introspective period, I was so alone that I started talking to myself, a habit I still have today. It was there that my sleep disappeared, I had chronic insomnia, and that I lost control of my diet, and ended up losing myself in the abyss of pornography. When the holidays were over, and classes started again, I realized: I'm not unbeatable. This was a year of nightly tears, compulsive masturbation, and pain. But even so, I was still functional, I was "happy" (when I was at school) The happy and unbeatable boy became a young man in pain. The third year was the most complex, the holidays were good, somewhat surprising. I managed to go to the gym, control my diet, and with the help of natural medicines, I started to sleep reasonably well. I was evolving. But a meteor fell in my life, the damn bullying. I was always extroverted, I liked to talk, I was agitated, I talked nonsense and made everyone laugh. But this group was different, they were tough. At first, I managed to fit in, I was making friends, and doing well. But a joke began, offending the other person's mother, something unforgivable in Brazil. I participated in this, always getting into discussions. But I didn't like it, so I stopped, I decided to stop offending other people's mothers. But they didn't stop, they continued cursing my mother every day, the worst things possible. Every day I had to listen to those bastards cursing me, I had anxiety attacks at school, and they laughed. I told the teachers, and they did nothing. With that, my habits turned to dust, I stopped everything. And I went back to a failed routine, I entered the worst abyss, shame. I stopped going to school, it was too painful. But I had to go, I couldn't repeat the year. I hated it, it was hellish. I was weak, I was afraid. Once, I came to the conclusion, I'm a cockroach. After all, I had to watch OTHER PEOPLE defend my mother. I, WHO AM HER SON, failed to protect her honor. I felt disgusted by it, and along with my pornographic compulsion, I started to hate myself. I was disgusting, ugly, strange, and evil. The intrusive thoughts hurt, every day I had crises of thoughts, disgusting things that even involved children. It was horrible. Regarding the bullying, he stopped, after all I had courage and listened to my friend, and attacked those idiots. I left my eye black. It was ridiculous, I was so much bigger, wider, stronger. I let a skinny guy bully me. The happy boy became a monster. In fourth year, I surprisingly got off to one of the best starts. I went back to the gym, I was sleeping well naturally, I was taking care of myself. And I adopted a dog, now I had a reason to get up every day. I had responsibilities. I made new friends, I joined a student union, I was participating for the first time. The first semester was great, everything was going well. Until the damn vacation starts. My routine fell apart, my binge eating returned, my intrusive thoughts and pornography consumption skyrocketed. I went back to rock bottom. And this time, there was an extra trigger. My father, a complicated man who suffers from alcoholism, spent the entire vacation terrorizing my life. He was unbearable, it's hard to say that, but at that moment I hated him (I love him). With his many health problems, my father had several medications. And that's where it all went wrong. I started taking muscle relaxants, I wanted to alleviate this hell, I didn't want to be awake. I took several sleeping pills, I couldn't stand being awake. My little dog? I left it aside. I abandoned the being who loves me most, my only responsibility. I continued this habit of abusing medications, as long as I had relaxants, I would be taking them. But they ran out, and I couldn't stand being awake, so I started taking cocktails of different medications. A chemical punishment, and along with that, came self-flagellation. I started cutting myself every day. And I started giving myself whiplash, I wanted to pay for my sins with pain. I saw myself as a perverse monster, I was disgusting, I thought absurd things. I wanted to punish myself. The chemical escalation continued, I took several medications, felt sick every day, and cried nonstop. I was destroying myself. Until what started with two relaxant pills became forty-six pills, so many medications. I coldly researched how to die, I wanted to feel the worst. So I took a massive load of statins. I wanted to have rhabdomyolysis, I wanted to suffer. I did this, and I started having an absurd panic attack. I was confused, I went into crisis, it was a duel. While looking at a portrait of the happy boy I once was, looking at the love my dog ​​had for me. I started crying without stopping, I told my mother about the accident, and she took me to a hospital, I was washed and managed to survive. This suicide attempt changed my mind, something blossomed in me: love for life. I looked at my old photos and said, you don't deserve it. I can't carry everything alone, so many traumas, I don't even remember my shitty childhood, it's all a blur. I talked to my parents, and I unburdened myself, in the most raw way possible, I described my demons. I told my father to his face, about him having destroyed my life, and that I'm only here because of him. I regret these sentences, my father suffers like me, there are no culprits, only victims. A son sick from loneliness, and a father sick from the past. One sought help with punishment, another with alcohol. I went to therapy, I started this process. It was really good, I could tell everything, it was wonderful to be honest. I got a recommendation for a psychiatrist. And I started taking medication, an antidepressant, venlafaxine or effexor. This could be seen as a positive thing, but it triggered a psychosis. I lost control of my mind. I started to notice dark thoughts in my mind, it was as if they were sprouting in my brain. It didn't make sense, it was too strange. At first, I thought I was a social parasite, I never produced anything for society, I only consumed it. This thought was broken by my psychiatrist, who explained it to me simply, I am a sick young man, what should I produce? He spoke in such a raw way that it helped me. However, my mind, at the beginning of psychosis, didn't like the answer. She created another thought. I was a rotten being, I was rotten. My body was pure, but my mind and soul were completely rotten, corrupted by evil. After coming across reports about ego transcendence, I came to a distorted conclusion: the ego needed to die. I called it egocide, the death of the ego, the homicide of oneself. The thoughts became a belief. I was rotten, and I needed to kill myself. I'll explain what I was thinking. An explanation of belief. There is the body, ego and conscious motor. The body was pure, that is, my body was pure. He was totally fine, he was human. However, my ego was corrupt, I needed to eliminate the infection before it affected the body. And what would do this was the conscious motor. He is the part of the ego that believed in belief, he understood the evil that the ego did. In other words, the conscious motor, seeing the rottenness of the ego (itself, after all, the conscious motor is within the ego), decided to eliminate itself. An egocide. I planned everything, I wanted to destroy my psyche, that was the plan. So I started using illicit substances; like shoemaker's glue; delirious drugs, such as promethazine; nutmeg, to cause neurological damage, by myristicin; opioids, to cause addiction, and trigger withdrawal. It was crazy, maintaining the persona of his son in treatment, and secretly using substances. With the use of psychoactives, I decided to create a system of self-indoctrination. To summarize, I recorded dozens of heavy audios where I humiliated myself, used cruel adjectives to refer to myself, and said that my future was about pain. I can't describe the content of the audios, but it was the greatest abominations possible. I then distorted the audio, and added effects to generate echo. My goal was to indoctrinate my mind, it was literally to make my mind be attacked by damage to trust. I spent all day listening to these audios, and yes, they had an effect. It was heavy, I started listening to the audios, even without headphones. Along with these methods, I started exposing myself to gore, I started consuming gore nonstop, I wanted to destroy myself, I got to the point of masturbating while consuming it. I created a method, while using the substances, I made a seesaw with my brain. In other words, I spent two days taking the medication, and two days without taking it, to unbalance the pattern of neurotransmitters. Along with extreme sleep deprivation, and torture methods, such as spending weeks sleeping just one hour a day, and abusing caffeine. This ego death plan worked, I was slowly destroying my psyche. The delusions evolved, they reached the level where I thought I was a cosmic invader, I was a cosmic monster that invaded the earth. I killed the fetus that was in a woman's womb, and stole its body. This delusion explained my inability to relate to others, after all, I was not human, and I could not understand humans. I started to hallucinate, I saw a crack with a dark interior and white edges, it was my home, the place I came from. This whole crazy plan to destroy himself worked. I had a psychotic break. I had an identity crisis, I became a demon. I was, Ostadan, the librettist from hell. (Ostadan in ancient Persian is master of carpets. In my view, the human being is like a carpet, a myriad of lines that form identity, or the carpet) I went into aggressive thinking, I wanted to kill my family, that was the plan. I wanted to cause people pain, because I fed off of it. But first, I needed to mark myself. So I grabbed a thick handle and started to whip myself nonstop. My back was raw, marked by the lashes. Next to that I took a knife and made a cut from my shoulder to the back of my hand, a deep cut. Which caused me to bleed heavily. Fortunately, my brother came home and saw me in that state. I was admitted to the hospital, and there I received an injection of abilify and diazepam. I stayed in bed for a long time to treat the wound on my arm. And after that, I was admitted to a clinic. There I received a lot of treatment, such as therapy and medication. At the clinic I had my sleep restored, and I started doing physical exercises and trying to study different subjects. It was a fun time, over time the symptoms lessened. And after I left, my life improved. Today I am suffering from deep apathy, my life is gray. But I can be functional. I'm studying to try to go to college, I'm taking care of my dog, helping my mother, and going to the gym. I'm trying to improve my life. But in this pile of medicine, and confusion, my purpose is lost. I am a boat driver. I don't know why I'm here, but it's okay. I don't need a universal meaning. I'm just a sick man, I don't need to find a purpose that changes everything. Today, I live for my dog ​​and family. I constantly have depressive episodes, but they are short and mild. The main thing is this gray cloud that is in my life, this emptiness, this apathy. But that's okay, I've been worse. I'm twenty-two years old, I still have positive thoughts, about 60 years of life, why rush? I have all the time in the world, I am at peace, I am in harmony with myself. It's confusing, but in the midst of this apathy, there is love, and there is hope. I love myself, I'm strange, bizarre, weird. But that makes me unique, I'm a unique person, I write crazy things, I talk crazy things, I'm unique. I love myself, I'm eccentric and I like it. Today I have OCD and psychosis. And I'm investigating a possible ASPD. But we're done here. So I end this text by saying: love yourself. (Be careful with your children or siblings. They may be suffering)

26 years old. When I was younger, I thought that by this age, I would be happy, that I would have started a family and achieved things. Now that I’ve reached it, I realize that things didn’t go as planned. I’m 26, divorced, completely broke, with zero self-confidence, fighting the darkest thoughts in my head. Nothing I’ve undertaken has turned out well. Relationships? I spent 5 years married, only for everything to fall apart. My world collapsed, everything I fought for went up in smoke. My dogs, my passion, my reason for waking up every morning, had to stay with my ex because I couldn’t afford to take care of them anymore. I miss them so much, I think about them every day—they were everything to me, damn it. Work? I don’t have a job anymore. I’ve become a shell of myself. It’s impossible for me to focus or take initiative. I started writing all this to describe my life, but I can’t. I disgust myself; I feel pathetic. I thought I was past this depression after 12 years of battling it, but no. I’ve fallen back into it. I’m tired of suffering, tired of these thoughts. I’m tired of these images spinning endlessly in my head. I’m tired of this body dysmorphia that stops me from seeing myself as I am, that forces me to hurt myself to punish the monster I see. I’m tired of this autism that stops me from living normally, like everyone else on this earth. I’m tired of being nostalgic for my suicidal thoughts, of thinking life was simpler when my existence didn’t matter. I couldn’t protect my little sister, I couldn’t make my mother proud, I couldn’t make my marriage work, I couldn’t make my businesses succeed, I couldn’t say no. I’ve failed as a son, a brother, an entrepreneur, a husband, a pet owner, and a friend. I’m pathetic, ugly, undesirable, monstrous, weak. I’m not a man.

Hello! Tw for DV. Please help. I (21f) have been with my boyfriend (21m) and best friend for just almost a year, but known him for about 16 months. Every single day without fail since I have known him, he has been my support and we have been in contact, texting all day. I completely and fully mean it when I say every single day without fail. He ended up being dishonest about a lot towards the beginning, but I didn't find out until recently. I moved a couple hours out from my hometown to be close to him and work. Regardless, he made himself extremely extremely extremely safe for me back then even as I was very transparent about my fears of being vulnerable, being hurt, etc. and confided in him about my abandonment/attachment issues. I will not sugarcoat it, it 1000% became dependency. When we did get together, he was at my apartment every night. He moved in a few months later, when my roommate married and moved out. We have had some really horrible fights, but on the 7th we had a fight wherein my downstairs neighbor called the police and for the first time I let them in. He was arrested. I cannot state how badly I regret opening that door. The state I am in does not play with domestic violence, and it is a state-vs-him thing rather than something I control. I did tell my advocate I really did not want a protection order or anything of the sort. But the state requested it, so it was granted. He even called me the night prior a couple of times from jail. His next court date is not until the 5th of November and until then it's a complete no-contact order. Can't come home, can't text, can't call, his friends can't contact me, nothing — and to be completely honest his absence has been way, WAY more traumatic than the scuffle we had that night, or any I've ever had in my life for that matter. This is my rock, my best friend, he was my go-to person at work, my desk is right beside his. I messaged him all day at work since we work for the same company. I have major depression and anxiety and until now they have both been extremely, extremely easy to handle and stable with my medication. The anxiety was basically gone. That has gone entirely out the window. I can hardly get out of bed, I feel cold throughout the inside of my body, my chest feels constantly heavy and every minute feels like agonizing hours. Every second. I can't talk to my other half. It's been two days and I feel like I'm in constant hell. ESPECIALLY since I work 12-hr-shifts where everybody is going to ask me about him. 12s are legitimately terrible on a bad day, I cannot even fathom the pain that they would be like this. I'm supposed to go back to work tomorrow. Please, please, please give me your advice. I am so lost.

Very long post here. I’m recently divorced from my wife of 14 years. Her decision came as a total shock, and then the divorce was really nasty. I’m so gd exhausted. I have 3 little kids part time (thanks, antiquated southern precedent). I work from home, don’t go to church (atheist), and lost all my friends in the divorce. I’m not close to my family. I’m fairly progressive in a very conservative region, and I won’t move because I want to stay close to my kids. My entire identity was wrapped up in being a good husband and good father. Now that’s been stripped from me, and I just don’t know what to do next. And I don’t want to get back with my ex after she demonstrated such disgusting behavior during the divorce. Part of this depression is fueled by missing my kids, and part of it is fueled by the realization that I had no idea who the person was that I was married to. I miss who I thought she was, who she said she was, but not who she turned out to be. To say the relationship is now acrimonious is an understatement. I go to therapy regularly and I’m on meds for depression. I’m frustrated with therapy because they say I’m doing all the things I need to be doing, to give myself grace for not having a lot of capacity for anything right now, but in the end I’m still in this awful place. Still, I’m pretty depressed. I barely shower. I eat cereal and frozen pizza. I basically roll out of bed, make a cup of coffee, work for 8-9 hours, get done and watch tv until I fall asleep and repeat. At work I mask pretty well. I’m congenial on calls, engaged and somewhat productive (although not as productive as I’d like or have been in the past). The laundry and dishes pile up, which only compounds my mental state as chaos in the space often does to internal peace. I barely exist as a human being until my kids are with me. When my kids are with me I’m a completely different person. I’m alive, present, engaged, have much more energy, and can even feel joy and hope. We do fun things together, get outside, play, craft, all the fun things. As soon as they leave, though, I fall back into depression. It’s like I just can’t operate without them in my life. It frustrates me that I know the things to do to feel better. I know that if I start eating better, moving my body more, and going out to meet people more that I’ll start to feel a bit better. But I just can’t seem to bring myself to do those things. I can’t seem to get over the hump/barriers to actually make a more nutritious meal, or get dressed in workout clothes and go for a walk, or shower and clean up to go out and be around people. In the spirit of engaging in a hobby to help I’ve started several projects that are currently unfinished due to lack of motivation to do the next steps on any of them. And the meds suck. I have zero libido due to combo of meds and depression. I feel less lucid/sharp on them. I hate them, even though I’m grateful for them helping to keep my depression from being any worse. And I’m trying to be present with my feelings. I’m trying to honor them and give them space to be. But I’m just so, so exhausted and defeated. I watched my dad shrivel up after mom divorced him, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to get stuck here. I just don’t know how to get out. For those of you who’ve been here, how did you get out of it? Do I just need to be more patient? Was there something that clicked along the way that helped? What helped when you were here?

Hey all, Well i want to start off by apologizing for the novel of a story, but iv been bottling this up for a very long time, so bare with me. Im a 38 year old man who has lost confidence in every area of my life, particularly my job. Iv allowed depression to sneak in, now im not only unemployed, but also unemployed and depressed. when i met my wife i was quite confident and secure with myself. I had my own house that i was renting and lived in it alone, alot more expensive than a house share situation, but i was proud of the fact I could afford it and also enjoyed the benefits of not sharing a house with other people. Although i had no interest in being in a relationship at the time, I just knew that she was the one for me. The relationship progressed very quckly and just 3 months into it she asked me to move in with her and her father... I tested her reasons for such a suggestion and she simply explained that i would save a ton of money because i wouldnt have to pay rent at their house. Naturally i was offended because im not the type of person to a accept handouts in echange for my freedom and independence. So I told her to come back to me with a real reason for why she would suggest such a thing. 2 months went by and she finally built up the courage to ask me again, however, this time she had a full on heart-to-heart with me and explained how much she likes me and wanted me around all the time. I was impressed with her ability to finally express her feelings and I agreed to move in, under the condition that she agrees to a few ground rules... basically that she agrees to communicate after every argument, to not use the fact that im under her roof as ammunition against me and not tell me to leave the second her temper started to rise. Its safe to say, every one of those rules wer broken after the honeymoon phase was over haha We had her dad in the house who was retired since the passing of my wifes mother, whom i never met. I eventually i got to meet many of the extended family members, and we started just doing life togther. Most times we went out to eat, the father would join, which a didnt mind since its part of their culture to look after the parents wholeheartedly until they pass, also me and him get along just fine. 2 years into our relatioship my wifes sister loses custody of her 5 children due to the fact that they went to school with severe bruising on their bodies from the beatings they received at home. Naturally, Child Protective Services reach out to family members first before putting the children in foster homes...since there were no other siblings and extended family members already had their own children, my wife was the ideal alternative. I was totally against it because I knew exactly whats involved in taking on some one elses kids who have experienced psychological and physical trauma, especially 5 of them. Call me selfish, but back then i knew this journey would emotionally drain us and pull our relationship in so many different directions. My wife was fixated on taking on her nicies and nephews, I cant blame her, but I had to make a decision to leave or stay to support these children with my her. I chose to stay. The youngest child was 3 years at the time and were all roughly one year apart in age, 2 boys and 3 girls. Im not going to lie, these kids were little terrrors back then...any form of non physical descipline they would break windows in the house, destroy the walls and damage our cars. It was hardly their fault as they were conditioned to view true love as beatings with a leather belt or chain. I saw the pain in their eyes and grew to love these kids whilst trying my best to rewire them to accept softer, patient form of love. Me and my wife eventually got married and we didnt get a honeymoon due to the fact that we had to go and play mommy and daddies the following day. Despite both of us having full time jobs, we tried to make it work as a family. My father n law would do the school pickups/drop offs and i would cook dinner after work, or my wife would if she got home earlier than me. Im in no way bitter or regretful of my decision to stick through it all, i just wish i had more respect and appreciation from my wife for going through this with her. On top of all this, our relationship had many unresolved issues, for instance, leading up to Christmas 2018 i caught her texting her ex lover from her work phone, and she even saved his number under a female collogues name. She had deleted all the saucy messages so i dont know exactly what was exchanged, but according to her she was going to meet up with him that day to tell him she has a partner and he has to back off...i became a little bit controlling and told her that due to her actions, i expect her to share her location with me via google maps, i expect a call or text when she arrives at and leaves work. That was so ugly of me but i had to have it this way before deciding to tatally giving up on her. My mind couldnt rest until i got closure on the sitation between her and the guy, but then one night 3 months later i was going through her facebook history on her phone at 3am while she was sleeping and i discovered the she was viewing his page 10-15 times a day since the beginning of our relationship. Naturally i was angry so i woke her up to confront her about it and she brushed it off by explaining that she heard a rumour one of her friends was hooking up with him so she checks his page to find any evidence of this rumour. At this point i knew it would drive me insane trying to get the truth out of her with this, so i chose to just move on, whilst having my self esteem scarred. Some time after our wedding we found out the eldest girl (14) was also sexually abused by her father when she was 8, which opened up a new investigation against him, separate from the initial child abuse charges. On top of this the eldest boy (then, 15) tried to perform sexual acts on one of his other sisters. After i reported what had happened the courts decided to end the mothers (my sister n law) home arrest sentence prematurely so she could regain custody of the girls, while my wife and i remain the guardians of the two boys. This decision was purely for the safety of the girl's. Over the years my wife gained the habbit of yelling at me during arguments and calling me an idiot and saying that i have a mental illness, never directly in front of the kids, but loud enough for them to hear it. I hate people yelling in front of children in general, let alone if they come from an abusive home. this name calling caused to me to gradually distance myself from the boys in particular, especially since they reached teenage years. I just knew that eventually they would be influenced by what they hear, resulting in them too calling me an idiot behind my back. Oh boy i was right. I wouldnt care what the kids think/say about me so much if it wasnt for the fact that im also questioning my own mental state as a result. With my sister n law getting the girls back, it was a huge relief because i thought my wife and I couldnt actually start having the marriage that we had to put on hold for so long, however, her father was diagnosed with dementia in 2023 and his mental state declined so rapidly it has gotten the point that we have to wipe his poop out of his butt and he cant even construct a sentence anymore. I also got laid off from my last job in 2023 and became very depressed due to the fact my wife has to carry all the finances which is hard on her, i tried to apply for government assistance, however, due to the fact that my wife earns well over the predetermined threshhold for assistance, im not eligible. I understand the bourdon my wife has, but i feel so stuck, especially since our country is in a recession currently and the job market is very poor. Iv lost motivation to continue looking for employerment, and it certainly doesnt help with my wife labeling me a user, freeloader and makes claims that im enjoying living for free...but she is absolutely wrong...i absolutely hate it, in fact, if the was such a thing as the living dead then this would be it.,..simply existing with no motivation and no purpose. The kids have begun calling me autistic and crazy, and its even worse when my sister in law comes to visit with the girls. I over hear her whispers to the kids saying that im crazy and i have mental issues. She laughs about it amongst her children as if im a big joke, completely undermining me. I wouldnt be bothered by any of this if the things they say wernt directly in line with what my wife says about me during arguments, and if i hadnt fathered her children and practically rewired their PTSD that she and the father actually caused in the first place. My sister n law refuses to acknowledge that im a big part of shaping all 5 of her kids through persistent love. In her mind it was all her sister (my wife) and i just happened to come along for the ride. I cant talk about any of this with my wife though, as she will get upset and suggest maybe i am crazy because voices in my head are convincing me that people are talking about me behind my back. i really do love my wife and her family, and its not all doom and gloom, I just feel a bit ripped off as we havnt had the marriage that we should be having, nor our own children. Do i regret taking on the kids? Absolutely not, do wish her father with dementia wasnt around to care for? Heck no....my wife always says im an "on the surface type of guy", meaning that i do the very minimal just so i can say that im pulling my weight. I dont think fathering 5 psychologically damaged children would be considered minimal, and on the same note i wouldnt call wiping HER fathers ass every single night just on the suface(excuse the pun). None it is only skin deep. Sorry for the long read guys, but i decided to post in here because just this week my wife randomly logged into my facebook account after i went to see an old friend who happens to be gay. After i left his place he sent me a few sexual messages...which my wife took screenshots of. Now shes going wild claiming that im gay and suggesting that she has other "incriminating" messages, but wont tell me what they are. I admit my friend shouldnt have sent those messages, even if he was half joking. but even IF she does have screenshots of messages iv sent other people, i need a coping mechanism somewhere while im unemployed, even if its through stupid immature jokes. If it was a other woman then she would have reason to be upset, but since its not then i dont know what to think. Now she actively trying to break up with me over this, so im posting in here before i explode and do something stupid. P..s apologies for poor grammar and any spelling mistakes, im not proofreading any of this. I just had to get it off my chest

18M. Same situation as you, add a few mental disorders to it. I’m honestly so fucked up that I barely spend a day without the usage of feel-good supplements, just because they clear my mind of “those thoughts” and make me feel more or less good. Now, I’m not comparing anything or saying “Ah, look at me! I’m the most disappointing creation to walk on this planet!” and I know well that different people experience stuff differently, but I do know I might just fall in the category of “depressed” ;). The meaning to life comes with a shitton of free time and clear head. It doesn’t have to be something philosophical or complex- it’s in my opinion best if the thought’s something silly. As a boy, I’ve always wanted to be strong and athletic- back then it was just for the attention of girlies and now, I just want to become as big as humanly possible (I mean with the use of anabolic steroids). I don’t care if it kills me, actually it’d be best if it kills me, so I die doing what I’ve loved. I love health. I love muscles. The idea of having massive muscles, and if possible, nice flexibility and stamina at the same time, is just so appealing AND it extends my life expectancy by a little. Train hard enough and it even relieves a bit of that emotional stress, so one or two less thoughts per exercise. If I stop growing at one point, however, I’m still killing myself. I hope I’ve explained it well with this faulty English, because I’ve never been a man with words. Words scare me.

I suffer from severe treatment resistant depression, and I've never been able to achieve sufficient symptom control throughout my life. This is something I've struggled with since I was 12. I also struggled with self-harm and an eating disorder and borderline personality disorder and in the last few years a substance use disorder AKA addiction. I am currently 3 hours away from my daughter who lives with my mother because my mother has custody of her and I got a phone call tonight from my 13-year-old explaining that she had made a comment to some friends about jumping off a bridge (and I know the bridge she's talking about it wouldn't have killed her she might have gotten stuck in the mud or had to swim out of the canal) but one of her friends reported it to the guidance counselor, and so my mama took her to the ER to be evaluated and they ended up admitting her to a psych Hospital. I've been hospitalized over 30 times and in rehab three or four times in my short life. And I'm so worried that she's going to suffer the way I've suffered. And I did the best I could to comfort her and reassure her that sometimes the hospital is the best place to be even though it sucks. And selfishly I'm worried that I'm going to get the blame for the condition she's in because my struggles have such an effect on her. She was in tears saying I just want to go home and I asked her if she meant home like when we were together, and she said yes, which broke my heart just a little bit more because I'm in no position to make that happen and also my mother would fight me if I tried to take her back. So right now I'm kind of in a state of surprise or shock or some combination of the two because I know what she's going through and I know how tough it can be to be locked in a hospital with strangers. And I haven't been able to even cry about it despite the fact that my heart is breaking for her. Maybe it's my body's way of protecting me because I think if I start crying tonight I won't be able to stop. She doesn't want me to tell anyone, not even her Grandpa and grandpa that I'm currently staying with after my most recent relapse in hospitalization. And I took my Xanax like 5 hours ago and every dosed in pieces because I just want my day to be over because I feel like shit for not being more upset or for not being able to cry I feel like shit because I can't be there with her while she goes through this because my daddy lives 3 hours away from New Orleans where my daughter lives with my mama and my car is not Street ready yet so I won't even be able to go visit her and hold her and tell her that things do get better. I tried reaching out to my therapist and to several friends that don't specifically know my daughter but they know of her because I talk about it all the time and they've seen pictures of her. So while she doesn't want anyone that we know or she knows to know what's happened, I need it to talk to someone and when I couldn't that's when I took my meds and laid down and put on the show to zone out too so I could stop beating myself up over everything I've done or haven't done that's led her to this place. And the fucking meds aren't working tonight I guess because I was so wound up after speaking with my daughter before the ambulance came to transfer her to the psych Hospital. She's just so very sad. And I'm very sad. And I can feel my own depression creeping towards me, and for me to fall into a depressive episode right now is the absolute last thing I need. I'm not even really sure if this post belongs here but the subreddits for "worry" don't seem to be active because they haven't had any new posts in 4 or 5 years. So my apologies in advance if this is not an appropriate post for here, I just didn't know where else to turn.

hi i’m F 22 im from toronto. i’ve. been dealing with depression and anxiety for a bit now and i find it so hard to do certain things like brush my teeth, comb my hair or even just change out of my pajamas. i’ve recently been thinking about death more and accepting the fact that i may not be able to see the rest of my life unfold. i am not sure why but ive always had this feeling that i wouldn’t live long and i feel like it is true. i dont see myself making it past 25 or even in vision what my life would be like. i feel like i dont try hard at life anymore i kind of just settle esp at school or making friends socially. i am extremely insecure about the way i look because i have been constantly criticized for my weight by my mom and the females in my family. no matter how hard i try i dont think id ever be the happy little girl i once was. i started therapy which kind of helped but even then i still find myself going back to my old ways and having negative thoughts. i am in a loving relationship with the most amazing man ever and its a shame that i dont even have the will power to make it through life with him because my dark thoughts just consume me. today was my breaking point. my brother is extremely disrespectful to me always insults me from fatty, to im going to “amount to nothing in life” im a “loser” that works at walmart and that i have nothing going for me, which is fine because honestly im starting to think that now. no matter how much i try to not care the words will always hurt. today my brother beat the shit out of me. he was angry and he started to beat my head until i dropped to the ground i want to report this incident to the cops, but my mom threatened me saying she will kick me out if i do which is insane because it’s my parents duty to try and protect me but i genuinely don’t feel safe. btw i didn’t touch him at all. my mom doesn’t do anything but enable my brother and allow him to treat me like shit and says she will “deal” with it. but i’m honestly just tired. nothing is ever done and i never feel heard, im not sure what to do anymore i feel hopeless and i don’t want to even live anymore, btw i also think im getting sick like something is wrong w my body (been dealing with medical shit” and tbh im honestly ready to die at any point. i just wanted to share my story maybe it can give me an OUNCE of hope but i feel like im just a failure at life and that there’s no point of being alive or happy in this world. i want to try to live for my dog and for my boyfriend but sometimes the dark thoughts just take over.

(M 25) I’ve been struggling with crippling anxiety as long as I can remember, and Depression since I was about 13/14. It’s really only gotten bad in the last few months. I’ve been seeing a counsellor for about 2 years now and they’re great. I’ve been on a consistent medication plan for nearly the same amount of time. At first it helped a lot, but then some huge life events happened; my sibling was hospitalized for a schizophrenic episode, and later that same year one of my grandparents whom I was close with suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. My sibling has made strides in their recovery since, and my grandparent’s service was a couple months ago. Leading up to the service my depression became much worse, my partner (F 24) of many years had been very understanding and supportive. I thought after the service that things would return to normal or get better, but I ended up feeling a lot worse. About a month ago I asked my partner to take me to the hospital because I was planning to take my life. I saw psychiatrist and organized a new medication plan with them. Since then my life has felt like I flipped it upside down. My family, especially my partner, is worried sick about me and that I could harm or kill myself at any moment, and truth be told some days I do too. The emotional and mental toll it’s taking on her is brutal and I feel terrible. It’s compounded with guilt because a couple years ago she took on full-time work so that I could become a full-time student, but now I rarely go to class even though I’m so close to finishing my degree. I have zero motivation and it’s wrecking my relationship with my partner. She works so hard and I can’t even hold up my end of chores and responsibilities, not to mention our agreement with my education. I love her and I cherish her support, but her pain and concern for me reminds me that I’m ill. Like her being scared makes my suffering more real and I hate it. I want to tell her how I feel so that she know’s what’s going on but I’m so tired of telling her “Hey, I’m not okay again and I don’t know when or how I’m going to get better” and seeing her happiness and energy leave her body. She’s so exhausted and tired and I don’t want her to have to deal with me and my depression anymore. I don’t really know what I expect to happen, posting all of this here. But I wanted to put all my thoughts somewhere that’s not directly involved with my daily life. TL;DR: My lack of motivation is wrecking my relationship and my family and I have no idea what to do from here.

i’m not sure anyone will even see this, but i just needed to put the words into the world. i’ve felt this way for as long as i can remember. i’m almost 20 now and i wish i was lying when i say every day of it has felt like hell. i don’t know that my parents ever loved each other. i don’t have many memories of when they were together except for the fact that i almost never saw my mother smile. i tried so hard every day to make her happy. i would put my tiny little hands at the corners of her mouth and push them up into a smile, but one that only stayed as long as my hand did. i don’t remember how that made me feel, but i know that i didn’t feel like i was loved or seen or cared for. that makes me feel so selfish because i had a home and food and clothing on my body, but regardless i felt the neglect. i felt not only my emotions but that of everyone around me. when my parents finally divorced i shoved myself down into the deepest hole i could find and created someone new. someone who could protect my mother from my father’s life without her, someone who could protect my father from my mother’s life without her. i lost sight of who i was at all, and no matter what i do i just can’t get to who i am at the bottom of that hole. it led me to start self harming in elementary school and i didn’t even know what i was doing. i hid all of it. i hid how i felt. i hid how i thought. everything i did was always to make sure no one ever felt the same terrible feeling i was dealing with. i showered everyone in my life with love and care and thoughtfulness whether they were a stranger or someone i’d always known. people talked to me in school. people asked to be my partner. i found relationships and formed connections. but no one ever wanted to get close enough to stay. i never understood that part of it. i never understood everyone who said they’d be there for me, who said they cared, who claimed to be my friend. this was my experience for my whole childhood. then i blinked and it was over and i’ll never get that back. i no longer speak to my father or sister although i wish i could. i think i’ve only consistently interacted with 2 people for the past almost two years. it’s left me feeling worthless. i feel like i spent my whole life making sure that everyone else was getting everything they needed. and i feel like that was my only role. i don’t feel like someone’s child, or someone’s friend, or someone’s anything. i feel here. and that’s just not enough. i don’t want to be here if that means every day will be exactly the same as it’s always been. i don’t want to be here if that means i have to live in this feeling every day. i dont want to be here if it going to sleep hoping for a fresh start means i wake up the next morning only to discover the feeling hasn’t left. i’m on my fifth medication and nothing has helped make any improvements so far. therapy hasn’t helped me either. if anyone reads to this point, i would greatly appreciate if you could offer any advice on depression treatment for neurodivergent individuals with high iq as i believe that may be part of my issue in treatment. i’m sorry for the length of my post and i’m sorry if this wasn’t the place for it. i just needed to know my words were out there somewhere. thank you for letting me say me piece.

I'm writing this more as a diary entry then anything else so feel free to ignore it. Depression sucks...that's the only word for it, "sucks". I don't know how to change the way things are. I wish I did but I just don't. Sure the antidepressants help a little to numb the pain but it's like putting a plaster on a stab wound, it really doesn't do all too much I don't think I've ever felt so alone. I spend almost all of my day trapped inside my room. It's both my prison and sanctuary, a bit of a double edged sword. Sure I feel safe and protected here but I'm also stuck. Forced to live out my life locked away, any time I dare to step foot outside I'm struck with the worst panic attacks and paranoia imaginable, reminding me why I stay inside. Every night I lie awake staring at the ceiling. Anytime I close my eyes I'm devoured by a sea of blackness and I feel so small in that void. Like my vision somehow zooms out and I'm a speck of nothing floating through that void. Most nights I just cling to my childhood teddy bear and hide under the covers in some juvenile attempt to keep the monsters away. But I can feel them creeping closer from the dark corners of my room. So I stay there, awake and hidden until my body gives up and I pass out for some unknown amount of time. I don't know what to do. Maybe writing this will help, maybe it won't. It's worth a shot I suppose. It's either I lie here alone, drowning in my loneliness or I type this. Maybe it will bring me some semblance of relief having gotten this off my chest. For those of you also struggling, I hope it gets better. I don't know how to make it better, I wish I did, but I hope it does. Everyone needs hope. Without hope there's no point in living. So I'll stay here, locked in a prison of my own design hoping I figure out the solution. I apologise for the rather flowery language. I guess it's just my way allowing my brain to focus on something other than the depression that's currently overloading it.