Getting help; an FT rambling.
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24-02-2017, 03:44 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
Just a small update: Saw the psychiatrist for the last time today; he is handing me back to the overview of my doctor and psychologist, with instructions for dosage for an SNRI if necessary; it was decided that changing meds now would add another variable to my treatment that isn't necessary at this stage since I'll be resuming working with my psychologist on the 27th.

The people closely associated with the namesake of female canines are suffering from a nondescript form of lunacy.
"Anti-environmentalism is like standing in front of a forest and going 'quick kill them they're coming right for us!'" - Jake Farr-Wharton, The Imaginary Friend Show.
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24-02-2017, 06:28 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
That makes sense, just 3 days...

[Image: dobie.png]Science is the process we've designed to be responsible for generating our best guess as to what the fuck is going on. Girly Man
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24-02-2017, 05:51 PM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
I'm glad you're back. Shy

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03-03-2017, 01:50 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
Sorry, I just needed to mindlessly type for a while; nothing important here, so move along. Looking back at what I rambled, at least if my uni gambit fails I have a potential future writing for nonsense websites to fill in the now vacant Timecube market.

I never got to see my psych since I got sick. I didn't want to go out in high 30sC temperatures for one to two hours while I was still sick, so I didn't. The only appointment available after when I'd be better? 11th April. So I've got a good while to wait until I can talk to somebody face-to-face about what's going on and how to cope. It would be nice if I didn't have that time gap.

Not to be overly dramatic, but things have not been going great, like 'some nights I just want to throw my meds out the door or take all 20 of them at once' not great.

When I saw the psychiatrist, he praised me for trying to counter the passing thoughts that "it's too hard to keep going" by reminding myself that I've got a 100% track record so far. It just feels like a lie I'm telling myself at this point. Just look at the logic there, applied to any other hazardous circumstance, and I feel depression should warrant at least consideration as such a circumstance, it doesn't feel like it holds up.
"You've got this far by crossing the road during heavy traffic without getting hit, why stop now?"
"You've not been bit once by spiders yet, so why not keep hunting for them?"
"You've got a 100% record of not ODing, so why not keep the drugs up?
"You're current track record of not killing yourself is 100%, so why worry about it?"

It doesn't pass muster anymore, at best it feels like a distraction from the 'truth' I keep telling myself without wanting too: that I'll never get better; all that waits for me ahead if I get that far is an illusory remission of symptoms that will last just long enough for something to smack me face down back into the dirt where my illness tells me I belong, just like it has always gone and always will go. Best case scenario is I never see that cliff to get shoved off it to begin with and eventually just stop feeling things entirely.
That is of course assuming I never get the guts and tools required to try to off myself.

It's really frustrating having to deal day in day out with life knowing there is a part of your mind, what makes you what and who you are, that is defective; so defective in fact that it insists at all times in all places that it and by definition you, should cease to exist. Every day of your life you have to listen to it whispering in your mind, telling you things you know are lies; it tells you you have no place, it reminds you of every single failure, every mistake, every negative thing to happen to you again and again; the only times it ever stops is when all but you shut down your brain, and even them it's still there. Waiting. And you know it is.

And you know what?

Eventually, you start, in the very core of your being, to believe the lies fed to you endlessly by this part of you you know is broken and malfunctioning. You know it's part of you, you can't excise it, no matter how much you might want to; without it, you are different. Not you. Eventually it has gone on so long that it has all but consumed what used to be you. Replaced it with something twisted. Your memories feel alien to you; who is that child happily playing in the sandpit? Did you really enjoy those things you remember doing? That frustration you remember? You start to lose the idea of why it was there. You can't trust your memories. You can't trust your own perception of how things are.
Slowly, over the course of months or years it gets more and more powerful within yourself. To the point that the non-defect part of you that is thinking on why your memories seem foreign to you gets all but torn in half; you yourself, that part of you that knows that something is wrong inside starts to twist and warp. You can't really be so broken inside as to not know who you are any more, can you? Surely not!

You are perfectly normal. You may be a failure, a worthless wretch born to watch as everybody else around you succeeds and leaves you in the dust you deserve to live in until you just die, but that is your normal; it's how you've always been. It slowly warps further; 'you' have been all but subsumed by the defect. It has taken control of everything, to the point where the only part of you that knows something is wrong is locked away in the depths of your mind, only to give you a bothersome undirected feeling of anguish sometimes that something is wrong but you can't find out what.

Years come and go and you spend your life wallowing in this grey void; sometimes you feel 'better', you have energy, things are going right, the feelings you find a long since normal recede for a small time. Only to come back. Every time. It tells you it is normal, anything else is wrong, now sit the fuck back down.

Imagine what that must feel like. Then imagine that out of some twist of fate, somebody tears over a hole in the soundless, textureless, grey void that is you, and tells you "Something is wrong with you, and we're going to find out what and get you better.

You want to cry. That part of you It locked away breaks free, everything is bad, but once again you know, you absolutely know, you can free yourself. Those last few years was deception, that defect had taken over and coasted you along as it willed.

And your mind feels like it starts to tear apart a little. That tiny inkling you had for so long now that you *weren't* right has been vindicated. But you still don't know who you are any more. That child eating birthday cake and playing with friends still feels like you are watching somebody else's memory. Before you had accepted who you were. Now that has been blown apart, and you are back at that stage between competing parts of your mind where you don't know who or what you are again. To make it worse, you're told you can't trust your perceptions outright, but after so long, that defect still holds them. No matter how hard you fight; the negativity filter is still there.

You go and get help, you are promised that it gets better. But now both parts of you scream WHEN?! Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like you are getting anywhere. The longer you spend talking to people, trying therapy yourself, taking your drugs, the harder it gets to keep up the fight. Eventually the defect just seems to start dropping into madness; you aren't getting anywhere with it, but the longer and harder you try to fight it, the worse the thoughts become. Instead of telling you you don't deserve happiness, it tells you you deserve to suffer and die. And you know it's the defect talking but you still have its hand around your throat; some days it takes all the mental and physical energy you have to stop the thoughts for the briefest moments.
You've been promised an exit, but as that part of you never hesitates to remind; it's not come yet, no sign of an exit at all.

That part of you that you know again lied to you starts to generate the most genuine thoughts you have ever felt. All for death. At every opportunity, it all but begs for you and it to just die, it's the only way out. You try to fight those thoughts, but you can't stop them. Sometimes, despite everything, you believe them again. You yell at yourself for doing so, for being weak and stupid enough to listen to them-- but it's the defect again, masquerading as the reasonable part of you.

You've gone from being normal and happy to feeling as though out of nowhere your mind was cut in half between a cruel sadist that kicked you endlessly and a part of you that despite trying could not defend itself. After that, at some point you can't even remember now, your world changed again to one ruled by the tyrant of your own mind where your life was nothing but a void filled with negativity and lies you thought were truths. And then again, you managed to get out of your own mental prison you designed yourself, and get somebody on the outside to blow open a chuck of the ceiling and tell you there is an outside. From there, your pitted in what feels like a labyrinth; you're trying desperately to escape yourself, knowing if you let your guard down you will be consumed by the void again. And some times, you *want* to be, it's just too hard to keep fighting.

It's where I am now. Running for what remains of my life from my own mind as it feels almost like it was falling apart. That part I know is defective screams daily that I should to the one thing right with my life and end it.

Sometimes I regret ever allowing that hole to be made. It sucked, but I didn't have to fear much that I was chasing an illusion. I didn't have to take medications everyday. I didn't have to deal with the fear that I'd fail to get out. I didn't have to deal with the thoughts that maybe I don't want to get better, why now just sit back down and let the comforting grey surround me again. At least under that world of lies I had a sense of surety of myself. I still struggle with who I am if my depression is not me.

The people closely associated with the namesake of female canines are suffering from a nondescript form of lunacy.
"Anti-environmentalism is like standing in front of a forest and going 'quick kill them they're coming right for us!'" - Jake Farr-Wharton, The Imaginary Friend Show.
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03-03-2017, 02:04 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
Undecided

Hmm. I remember when I first met you on this forum. You were what... 16? You were bright man! You are bright. Intelligence is worth something.

Look, the past is gone. Can't change it, right? Moving finger writes and all that jazz. But you can change now. Change is hard and takes time - no one knows that better than you.

I think maybe, (and I'm no shrink so don't listen if I'm talking shit), I think maybe you're a little too worried about how you're feeling all the time, and thinking how useless you are and so on. I think you need to distract yourself.

I've said this to you before, but since you're gonna be feeling down anyway, why not do something interesting while you're down and out? Maybe read a few science articles? IFLScience is a great website and has some very interesting articles. Look at porn Wink It perks me right the fuck up when I'm feeling out of sorts.

Um yeah. This post brought to you by Dog, who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about. Hug

We'll love you just the way you are
If you're perfect -- Alanis Morissette
(06-02-2014 03:47 PM)Momsurroundedbyboys Wrote:  And I'm giving myself a conclusion again from all the facepalming.
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03-03-2017, 02:58 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
(03-03-2017 02:04 AM)morondog Wrote:  Undecided

Hmm. I remember when I first met you on this forum. You were what... 16? You were bright man! You are bright. Intelligence is worth something.

Look, the past is gone. Can't change it, right? Moving finger writes and all that jazz. But you can change now. Change is hard and takes time - no one knows that better than you.

I think maybe, (and I'm no shrink so don't listen if I'm talking shit), I think maybe you're a little too worried about how you're feeling all the time, and thinking how useless you are and so on. I think you need to distract yourself.

I've said this to you before, but since you're gonna be feeling down anyway, why not do something interesting while you're down and out? Maybe read a few science articles? IFLScience is a great website and has some very interesting articles. Look at porn Wink It perks me right the fuck up when I'm feeling out of sorts.

Um yeah. This post brought to you by Dog, who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about. Hug

You don't have to worry about that post, it was just a ramble.

But, I probably am too focused on the past for my own good, but I'll defend it by saying I want to do whatever possible to avoid going back, and keeping in mind how things were is the only way I can see of keeping that reminder always on.

The people closely associated with the namesake of female canines are suffering from a nondescript form of lunacy.
"Anti-environmentalism is like standing in front of a forest and going 'quick kill them they're coming right for us!'" - Jake Farr-Wharton, The Imaginary Friend Show.
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30-03-2017, 07:55 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
I finally saw my psychologist; she had a cancellation and it seems she voided the normal procedure for me, being that I wasn't supposed to be called in due to my anxiety issues with scheduled changes.

It was good to talk. A bit hard, actually very hard, but good. I had to fight myself to maintain control of myself at times.

She wanted me to talk about that pseudosucidial episode I had and how I've been coping... maybe had is the wrong tense. It's not like the thoughts stopped. Every other day I have at least one moment where I just stop. Stop and think. Stop and look at my meds. Mentally run the numbers. All that happened was that the shock has gone, i guess.
It's hard to put into words; how that fear can go away so easily. After you get over the first rounds of 'real' ideation, it gets... commonplace? You can still feel the desire to do it, they still seem real to you, but that part that naturally recoiled has just gotten used to it. It's on a whole different level than the 'casualised' thoughts I was experiencing before, and yet they've still lost their 'danger' aspect. Even that rings hollow as a description of how it feels, but it's the best I've got. Just goes to show my level of skill with words.

Of course, I told her all that. I told her that at this point, it isn't a matter of good days and bad days; they really aren't any days now where 'good' is a consistent feeling. It's closer to bad days and worse days. On a bad day, I just struggle though as best I can on autopilot. On a worse day, I shutdown and start contemplating suicide again. To keep shambling forward mindlessly is really all I can really do at this point. My day-to-day is less life and more zombie. Except, I'm not mindlessly hunting brains, I'm aimlessly shambling toward that last sliver of hope that is less hope and more desperation if I'm honest.

A worse day is what happens when I realise that hope is always out of my reach, and I get overwhelmed by the thoughts that it will never be mine.
Like I said to her, it's not easy to hold onto the hope that someday I'll be better, or even to just keep myself convinced it even exists.

She asked me what 'better' would mean. What would 'better' feel like? My answer? "Better would feel like the opposite of everything I feel now." Honestly, I can't even imagine what 'better' would feel like in reality. I can say things like 'I wouldn't regret waking up any more', but I have no earthly idea of what it would feel like to go day by day without being forced to contemplate suicide because anything else is getting too painful.

Honestly, some days it just feels like i'm running on my last legs, don't know how much longer I can keep up the fight. It gets worse every time the pressure breaks me...

I'm seeing my doctor in the morning for a medication change. Hope it takes hold quick and helps... I had best finish my work and get what little sleep I can.

The people closely associated with the namesake of female canines are suffering from a nondescript form of lunacy.
"Anti-environmentalism is like standing in front of a forest and going 'quick kill them they're coming right for us!'" - Jake Farr-Wharton, The Imaginary Friend Show.
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30-03-2017, 08:26 AM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
When you say you're working, what work is it?

Are you struggling with feelings of self-worth? Or... I dunno... just what are the dark thoughts?

I remember you when you were a teenager on here. You were confident, lively, a real bright-spark. Nothing surprised me more than this depression of yours. I guess it just goes to show that no one is immune. But if I'd have had to place bets a few years ago, I'd have betted on you to be a high-flying guy, top marks type student, chilled guy, popular... I don't think that any of these things is beyond the realm of possibility even now. You've still got your sense of humour, you can still cause shit with people and stand up for your own views.

I think ja, I don't know about mental illness and all that stuff, but I do know it's an actual disease, not just an "in your head" thing - I mean FFS if something that makes you contemplate suicide is just "in your head" then I think our model of what disease is is fundamentally broken. Anyway, ja, I think keep trying with the meds 'cos as much as they don't work a lot of the time they're what we've got to sorta... try and give you a fighting chance on the physical side of things - the fluids sloshing around in your brain...

Otherwise for the mental side, we're here to chat if it helps. Stay strong amigo, it's a long fight but no matter that you may be losing hope, I believe in you Smile

We'll love you just the way you are
If you're perfect -- Alanis Morissette
(06-02-2014 03:47 PM)Momsurroundedbyboys Wrote:  And I'm giving myself a conclusion again from all the facepalming.
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30-03-2017, 03:08 PM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
(30-03-2017 08:26 AM)morondog Wrote:  When you say you're working, what work is it?

Are you struggling with feelings of self-worth? Or... I dunno... just what are the dark thoughts?

I remember you when you were a teenager on here. You were confident, lively, a real bright-spark. Nothing surprised me more than this depression of yours. I guess it just goes to show that no one is immune. But if I'd have had to place bets a few years ago, I'd have betted on you to be a high-flying guy, top marks type student, chilled guy, popular... I don't think that any of these things is beyond the realm of possibility even now. You've still got your sense of humour, you can still cause shit with people and stand up for your own views.

I think ja, I don't know about mental illness and all that stuff, but I do know it's an actual disease, not just an "in your head" thing - I mean FFS if something that makes you contemplate suicide is just "in your head" then I think our model of what disease is is fundamentally broken. Anyway, ja, I think keep trying with the meds 'cos as much as they don't work a lot of the time they're what we've got to sorta... try and give you a fighting chance on the physical side of things - the fluids sloshing around in your brain...

Otherwise for the mental side, we're here to chat if it helps. Stay strong amigo, it's a long fight but no matter that you may be losing hope, I believe in you Smile

Just ever more Uni work. Just submitted it, though I'm not happy with it. It's low quality and falls far short of the word count, but I need to give up and go to be, and I won't have any chance to work on it before time runs out at 5pm tomorrow.

The thoughts can be hard to tie down; I feel worthless and useless, like there's no hope of getting better sometimes, like I'm a cancer or parasite just latching on an sucking away the lives of others, like a weakling and a coward unable to do the simplest of tasks some times. I often just feel completely tired of living, physically and mentally. I sometimes feel like the only way out is to die, and that would be the best thing for everybody.
I try to counter the thoughts, but it isn't easy. Especially since half the time it's not specific thoughts; I feel what I can only describe as an otherwise undefinable feeling of despair and pain.

I fully intend to fight this thing in my head for every millimetre of metaphorical ground, but it's not an easy thing to keep up; as time goes it just feels worse and worse, and I never get a real break to mentally regroup. "just one good day" is a frequent wish.

The people closely associated with the namesake of female canines are suffering from a nondescript form of lunacy.
"Anti-environmentalism is like standing in front of a forest and going 'quick kill them they're coming right for us!'" - Jake Farr-Wharton, The Imaginary Friend Show.
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30-03-2017, 03:20 PM
RE: Getting help; an FT rambling.
(30-03-2017 03:08 PM)Free Thought Wrote:  Just ever more Uni work. Just submitted it, though I'm not happy with it. It's low quality and falls far short of the word count, but I need to give up and go to be, and I won't have any chance to work on it before time runs out at 5pm tomorrow.
It's what, like... 6 am there? Don't work yourself to death either amigo. I've submitted a fair amount of substandard work in my time. It's not wrong to do so. Something is better than nothing. There are one or two assignments that even now I cringe when I think of how shit my work was.

Quote:The thoughts can be hard to tie down; I feel worthless and useless, like there's no hope of getting better sometimes, like I'm a cancer or parasite just latching on an sucking away the lives of others, like a weakling and a coward unable to do the simplest of tasks some times. I often just feel completely tired of living, physically and mentally. I sometimes feel like the only way out is to die, and that would be the best thing for everybody.
I try to counter the thoughts, but it isn't easy. Especially since half the time it's not specific thoughts; I feel what I can only describe as an otherwise undefinable feeling of despair and pain.
Those thoughts... they're your brain fucking out amigo. What is the use of any of us? We'll live for a while and then be worm food. And yet we destroy the planet so we may live a few more years. Have a bit of the colossal arrogance it takes to do that Wink I've got plenty so you can have some of mine.

Quote:I fully intend to fight this thing in my head for every millimetre of metaphorical ground, but it's not an easy thing to keep up; as time goes it just feels worse and worse, and I never get a real break to mentally regroup. "just one good day" is a frequent wish.
I think you put way too much pressure on yourself. Lemme ask you, what does "success" mean to you. Like, if you could picture yourself happy, what is different about your life? In your successful life, what do you look like? Are you in a relationship? How do you feel when you're in a crowd?

Sorry if these questions are intrusive. I'm playing amateur head-shrinker which is possibly a dangerous occupation...

We'll love you just the way you are
If you're perfect -- Alanis Morissette
(06-02-2014 03:47 PM)Momsurroundedbyboys Wrote:  And I'm giving myself a conclusion again from all the facepalming.
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