Redemption
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15-04-2015, 10:11 AM
Redemption
Something I've struggled with for a very long time is "breaking the cycle of loss." By loss, I don't necessarily mean death. I handle death pretty well. Or, well, better than others. By loss, I mean just flat out losing someone or some element of your life that you're so comfortable with. Something that you're so used to, you didn't even realize you accidentally made it the foundation of most of your happiness? You have the opportunity to keep that person or element in your life, but you just cant. And they leave. And I usually blame myself or figure something is really wrong with me because nothing is ever permanent, or as fixated as I want it to be.

Nothing ever lasts, no one ever stays.

Thursday night, I surrounded myself with an abundance of good friends. But there was one person in the midst of everyone that just kind of fucked me up and I had a break down. I ended up leaving the event early, and going home. Once home, I felt fine. I had some friends talk to me and comfort me before I left. "If you need anything man just call me, I'll be there." I listened, but I don't think I honestly believed them. I didn't want to bother them when they were having such a good night, so I kept to myself. After being home for a couple of hours, I gave into my thoughts and texted a person I probably shouldn't have. The hostility came out almost immediately, and it was almost heart breaking to realize that someone I'd given years of my life to respect and care about and befriend could so easily bury me alive. I was dirt. And I thought "If I can put so much work and effort into something, so much care into a person to make sure they're okay and alive, putting their well being before my own, and then for it to just end up like this, like nothing, then really what's the point?" I lost my best friend, and something I had poured so much of myself into, and in the end, I was left with absolutely nothing. I was left empty handed, with so many harmful things running through my head.

Have you ever done anything, and while you're doing whatever it is that you are, your mind is just... blank? You're not asking why or thinking of what it was that brought you to the point of doing your present actions, you're not thinking of anyone else, or yourself, or any consequences? You're just doing?

I lie to my housemates, drive to a store, return home and abruptly head to bed. Before falling asleep, I swallow 48 Benadryl and drink half a bottle of NyQuil.

I probably only slept for about 45 minutes before I sat up, disoriented as fuck, and puke all over the far side of my queen sized bed in about 3 or 4 intervals. The room is spinning, and I have to use the bathroom. I try to crawl across my big ass bed, which seemed a hell of a lot bigger than normal, but just end up hopelessly sitting in my vomit. "Fuck it." I wipe the vomit off of my leg with a blanket and lay back down.

I didn't even remember this bit until the next morning, but I started making a shit ton of phone calls to Steve and a few others. Finally get a friend to answer the phone, I tell him what I did, and he starts talking to me to calm me down. I'm dozing in and out of sleep, but I can still hear and somewhat comprehend the conversations we're having in my head. I give him some fucked up reply like "I don't know." and he's like "You don't know what?" and I'm like "Well you said ___" and he replies "No.... We haven't talked about any of that." So basically, the entire time I was dozing in and out, I was hallucinating the conversations I thought we were having.

Once I realize this, I start hallucinating my ass off.

The room is spinning like a mother fucker. My posters and shit flying and zooming all over the walls. I have a fire detector on one of my walls with a small red flashing light. I would stare at the light, and just watch it zoom across my walls. Listening to the silence, I could hear voices, people talking, but no TV's are on and everyone in my house is asleep but me.

I am scared shitless.

I weakly retreat from my room. Standing and walking is hard as fuck. I find my housemate and I'm like "I need to go to the hospital." I explain myself and we hurry out to the carport to leave. I walk up to the passenger side of the car and see a stray cat. Brown tabby with big gold eyes. I squat down and try to call it to me, attempting to pet it. My housemate is like "What are you doing...?" I'm like "Trying to pet this stray cat!" I move out of his way so that he can see the cat. When I turn back to the cat, it looks at me, and slowly fades/vanishes into the car port. The look on my housemate's face was terrified. I get in the car and I'm thinking to myself "Holy shit what have I done nothing is real."

We get to the hospital and I vomit again, in another 3 or 4 intervals. By now, I've involuntarily vomited the majority of Benadryl out of my system. I'm notified that in the state of Alabama, to threaten or attempt suicide is against the law, and I will be lawfully required to check into a psychiatric center.

I stay at a regular hospital for almost 2 days. Wasn't able to shower, the food was shit, and had to deal with blood work every 2 to 4 fucking hours. I'm informed I suffer from no dangerous liver damage, but I now have the potential to have seizures. Saturday, I'm taken by ambulance to a mental facility. Could only have three changes of clothes, nothing with strings, no personal belongings, and the items you have are kept under lock and key your entire visit. I was terrified. My emotions were uncontrollable. Before I leave for the ward, I call and explain everything to my biological father. He is shocked and upset and notifies the rest of my family. I enter the ward not knowing of what my family thinks, unable to speak to anyone and only scarcely allowed to make phone calls or have visitors.

I stay until Monday. The beds were shit. The food was shit. The showers were pressurized and hurt like shit. The first full day was the worst. I was terrified for a good half of the day before I became comfortable with a few of the people I had met. Some people were more sane than others. I met one lady who had a bad reaction to her menopause medication, had a panic attack and fell into an ant bed. I met another lady who scared herself but having a weird depression fit in her sleep, and another lady who was exactly like me, but she'd been through it all. She'd had a heart attack and stroke, and suffered from a lot of nerve damage in her body. She came from a broken, abusive home, had been abused and discriminated for being a homosexual, and had even been raped. She'd been through so much, but she was the sweetest human being I had ever met, and she helped me a lot through my stay. My roommate was a girl, only 22, olive skin, long dark black hair. Absolutely beautiful. She'd been doing meth for 6 months, and two hours after I left the facility, she was being moved to a detox center.

I hope they're all okay.

During my stay, I was evaluated by a psychiatrist three times. I went to five therapy sessions, spilled my life story countless times and created multiple safety plans. I realized a lot of things I had repressed for a while, and realized a lot of things that possibly contribute to my fears and downfalls. Such as how I always have really unrealistic, almost fairy-tale like expectations, and when my expectations fall apart, I land even harder when I hit the ground.

It's hard for me to put the experience and my visit into words. I definitely learned a lot, and am more thankful and grateful for my life and for all of the things I have at home. I've realized that I have a lot to live for, and regardless of the negatives in my life, there are always positives that should outweigh whatever is bringing me down, even if it's hard to take my mind off of the negatives. Since returning home, my mom has attempted to speak to me again, my family members are more in touch with me, and my aunt has offered to pay for counseling if I feel comfortable with it or desire it. It was suggested to me to start a journal in an attempt to help vent my feelings, instead of bottling them up like I normally do. I just really struggle with talking about my problems, so last night I bought this bad ass spiderman journal.

I felt like sharing this here as a way to just vent about the experience, because I know there are people here who have been in similar situations, or have wanted to take their own lives because the weight of all of the negative things in their lives weighs heavily. Whenever you're feeling down, make a list of all of the cons in your life. Then make another list of the pros in your life. If the cons outweigh the pros, make a list of all of the things you're looking forward to: People you want to meet, video games and movies and music you anticipate, children and grandchildren, graduations and marriages, etc.

There are always things to look forward to. There are always positives, regardless of how few you can name. There are always people who care.

Thank you, Ato and Anjele.
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15-04-2015, 10:23 AM
RE: Redemption
I don't know you but..... Hug

I have so much I want to say but I will wait until this evening when I have time to type it. Your post deserves more than something I hurry through on my lunch break.
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15-04-2015, 12:00 PM
RE: Redemption
I


Wow dude.

I'm glad you got through that. Please don't do it again. Hug

Journals are really useful- I used to keep a rant book or two. I still have them somewhere. they're full of well, rants. Sometimes anger sometimes sadness... All the strong emotions that were too much to keep in and that I didn't feel like I could talk about with anyone. Writing is really cathartic. I hope it works for you as well as it has for me Smile and if not, definitely take your aunt up on the offer of counseling help.

Atheism is the only way to truly be free from sin.
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15-04-2015, 12:44 PM
RE: Redemption
Hey ambinand,

Well I can't speak to all the stuff you went through, because I've never been through that, and I really don't understand.

But I wanted to at least share my thoughts on your initial issue, losing those in your life who you've built a foundation around. I've always been overly emotional about this topic, until recently. I literally privately cried at the end of every school year, because of how much I would miss seeing people every day. I broke down and sobbed looking at the empty room after my roommate graduated and moved out after we had lived together for 4 years. But throughout middle school, High school, college, and now my professional life, I've just seen people come and go so much, I've gotten used to it. People I considered good friends who apparently no longer want anything to do with me. A group I thought I was once part of. People I used to see every day and talk to every day, who now I've maybe spoken to 4 times in the past 5 years. Life just keeps moving, and things keep changing. Relationships keep changing.

I've come to a somewhat sad conclusion that I've had to make peace with. And that is, I'm really just not that important. And I don't mean that to come off in a self-pitying way. I just mean that to the large majority of the people I know, their life will go on and continue just fine whether I'm part of it or not. Even close friends, or long-term childhood friends I've known for over 15 years, I realize that they have their own lives to live and frankly it probably doesn't involve thinking of me very often. Even the people on this site that I enjoy talking to and reading their opinions as well. If I never showed up again I don't imagine it would make an impact, or even a dent in anybody's life. But, while I believe all that, I don't think that means people dislike me, or have any ill will towards me. They just have their own lives/focuses/dreams/goals and enjoyments. And just being able to hear them from time to time, even if it's only once or twice a year, is a pleasure. And as for those who specifically don't want me as part of their life. Well, that's too bad, and I wish them happiness in whatever they end up doing.

Through a lot of emotional times and me worrying about people liking me, me worrying about being significant, me thinking thoughts like, "If I died would anybody notice? Would anybody care? I almost want to try...but then I would never know." Through all that, I've finally stabilized (I think) in just being happy to have what I do have, to know who I do know, and for those moments I can share with others.

People will come and go in life, there is no doubt about that. But your self worth and your life's value is NOT defined by those people. You have unlimited potential to make more friends and experience new moments with new friends and old friends. Sure certain people will disappear and that can be devastating, but that's life. I'll stop rambling now, and just put a cap on this.

I'm sorry you went through what you did. But please don't harm yourself or endanger your life. It's your only one, and once it's over, there will be no more good times, no more friends. There won't be anything. And to me, that's the saddest outcome.

I prefer fantasy, but I have to live in reality.
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15-04-2015, 12:51 PM
RE: Redemption
And really, I do hope you are doing well. And are happy.

I prefer fantasy, but I have to live in reality.
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15-04-2015, 01:30 PM
RE: Redemption
I'm glad you weren't physically damaged.

Your personal realizations are wonderful; your life will improve. Keep it up.

Hug

P.S. That was well-written. Yes

Skepticism is not a position; it is an approach to claims.
Science is not a subject, but a method.
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15-04-2015, 02:26 PM
RE: Redemption
Wow Ferd Confused Sorry... jeez. I'm just glad you came out alright Hug Be well 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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15-04-2015, 02:43 PM
RE: Redemption
(15-04-2015 10:11 AM)Ferdinand Wrote:  Something I've struggled with for a very long time is "breaking the cycle of loss." By loss, I don't necessarily mean death. I handle death pretty well. Or, well, better than others. By loss, I mean just flat out losing someone or some element of your life that you're so comfortable with. Something that you're so used to, you didn't even realize you accidentally made it the foundation of most of your happiness? You have the opportunity to keep that person or element in your life, but you just cant. And they leave. And I usually blame myself or figure something is really wrong with me because nothing is ever permanent, or as fixated as I want it to be.

Nothing ever lasts, no one ever stays.

Thursday night, I surrounded myself with an abundance of good friends. But there was one person in the midst of everyone that just kind of fucked me up and I had a break down. I ended up leaving the event early, and going home. Once home, I felt fine. I had some friends talk to me and comfort me before I left. "If you need anything man just call me, I'll be there." I listened, but I don't think I honestly believed them. I didn't want to bother them when they were having such a good night, so I kept to myself. After being home for a couple of hours, I gave into my thoughts and texted a person I probably shouldn't have. The hostility came out almost immediately, and it was almost heart breaking to realize that someone I'd given years of my life to respect and care about and befriend could so easily bury me alive. I was dirt. And I thought "If I can put so much work and effort into something, so much care into a person to make sure they're okay and alive, putting their well being before my own, and then for it to just end up like this, like nothing, then really what's the point?" I lost my best friend, and something I had poured so much of myself into, and in the end, I was left with absolutely nothing. I was left empty handed, with so many harmful things running through my head.

Have you ever done anything, and while you're doing whatever it is that you are, your mind is just... blank? You're not asking why or thinking of what it was that brought you to the point of doing your present actions, you're not thinking of anyone else, or yourself, or any consequences? You're just doing?

I lie to my housemates, drive to a store, return home and abruptly head to bed. Before falling asleep, I swallow 48 Benadryl and drink half a bottle of NyQuil.

I probably only slept for about 45 minutes before I sat up, disoriented as fuck, and puke all over the far side of my queen sized bed in about 3 or 4 intervals. The room is spinning, and I have to use the bathroom. I try to crawl across my big ass bed, which seemed a hell of a lot bigger than normal, but just end up hopelessly sitting in my vomit. "Fuck it." I wipe the vomit off of my leg with a blanket and lay back down.

I didn't even remember this bit until the next morning, but I started making a shit ton of phone calls to Steve and a few others. Finally get a friend to answer the phone, I tell him what I did, and he starts talking to me to calm me down. I'm dozing in and out of sleep, but I can still hear and somewhat comprehend the conversations we're having in my head. I give him some fucked up reply like "I don't know." and he's like "You don't know what?" and I'm like "Well you said ___" and he replies "No.... We haven't talked about any of that." So basically, the entire time I was dozing in and out, I was hallucinating the conversations I thought we were having.

Once I realize this, I start hallucinating my ass off.

The room is spinning like a mother fucker. My posters and shit flying and zooming all over the walls. I have a fire detector on one of my walls with a small red flashing light. I would stare at the light, and just watch it zoom across my walls. Listening to the silence, I could hear voices, people talking, but no TV's are on and everyone in my house is asleep but me.

I am scared shitless.

I weakly retreat from my room. Standing and walking is hard as fuck. I find my housemate and I'm like "I need to go to the hospital." I explain myself and we hurry out to the carport to leave. I walk up to the passenger side of the car and see a stray cat. Brown tabby with big gold eyes. I squat down and try to call it to me, attempting to pet it. My housemate is like "What are you doing...?" I'm like "Trying to pet this stray cat!" I move out of his way so that he can see the cat. When I turn back to the cat, it looks at me, and slowly fades/vanishes into the car port. The look on my housemate's face was terrified. I get in the car and I'm thinking to myself "Holy shit what have I done nothing is real."

We get to the hospital and I vomit again, in another 3 or 4 intervals. By now, I've involuntarily vomited the majority of Benadryl out of my system. I'm notified that in the state of Alabama, to threaten or attempt suicide is against the law, and I will be lawfully required to check into a psychiatric center.

I stay at a regular hospital for almost 2 days. Wasn't able to shower, the food was shit, and had to deal with blood work every 2 to 4 fucking hours. I'm informed I suffer from no dangerous liver damage, but I now have the potential to have seizures. Saturday, I'm taken by ambulance to a mental facility. Could only have three changes of clothes, nothing with strings, no personal belongings, and the items you have are kept under lock and key your entire visit. I was terrified. My emotions were uncontrollable. Before I leave for the ward, I call and explain everything to my biological father. He is shocked and upset and notifies the rest of my family. I enter the ward not knowing of what my family thinks, unable to speak to anyone and only scarcely allowed to make phone calls or have visitors.

I stay until Monday. The beds were shit. The food was shit. The showers were pressurized and hurt like shit. The first full day was the worst. I was terrified for a good half of the day before I became comfortable with a few of the people I had met. Some people were more sane than others. I met one lady who had a bad reaction to her menopause medication, had a panic attack and fell into an ant bed. I met another lady who scared herself but having a weird depression fit in her sleep, and another lady who was exactly like me, but she'd been through it all. She'd had a heart attack and stroke, and suffered from a lot of nerve damage in her body. She came from a broken, abusive home, had been abused and discriminated for being a homosexual, and had even been raped. She'd been through so much, but she was the sweetest human being I had ever met, and she helped me a lot through my stay. My roommate was a girl, only 22, olive skin, long dark black hair. Absolutely beautiful. She'd been doing meth for 6 months, and two hours after I left the facility, she was being moved to a detox center.

I hope they're all okay.

During my stay, I was evaluated by a psychiatrist three times. I went to five therapy sessions, spilled my life story countless times and created multiple safety plans. I realized a lot of things I had repressed for a while, and realized a lot of things that possibly contribute to my fears and downfalls. Such as how I always have really unrealistic, almost fairy-tale like expectations, and when my expectations fall apart, I land even harder when I hit the ground.

It's hard for me to put the experience and my visit into words. I definitely learned a lot, and am more thankful and grateful for my life and for all of the things I have at home. I've realized that I have a lot to live for, and regardless of the negatives in my life, there are always positives that should outweigh whatever is bringing me down, even if it's hard to take my mind off of the negatives. Since returning home, my mom has attempted to speak to me again, my family members are more in touch with me, and my aunt has offered to pay for counseling if I feel comfortable with it or desire it. It was suggested to me to start a journal in an attempt to help vent my feelings, instead of bottling them up like I normally do. I just really struggle with talking about my problems, so last night I bought this bad ass spiderman journal.

I felt like sharing this here as a way to just vent about the experience, because I know there are people here who have been in similar situations, or have wanted to take their own lives because the weight of all of the negative things in their lives weighs heavily. Whenever you're feeling down, make a list of all of the cons in your life. Then make another list of the pros in your life. If the cons outweigh the pros, make a list of all of the things you're looking forward to: People you want to meet, video games and movies and music you anticipate, children and grandchildren, graduations and marriages, etc.

There are always things to look forward to. There are always positives, regardless of how few you can name. There are always people who care.

Thank you, Ato and Anjele.

There is no doubt that you are an extraordinary strong person to get through this and all the other stuff you've told here. Happy that you're alive and breathing. I bet you already know this better than anyone else now, but don't ever do something like that again. Might be fatal next time, and that would be a terrible loss.

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"Don't answer that. A rhetorical question."
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15-04-2015, 03:31 PM (This post was last modified: 15-04-2015 08:40 PM by Bucky Ball.)
RE: Redemption
Yeah kiddo I get it.
I screwed up a REALLY good friendship once, with someone I really liked and respected. I mourned it for a long time. It was pretty painful for a while.
I only have trite shit to add, but time heals all.
Hug

Insufferable know-it-all.Einstein God has a plan for us. Please stop screwing it up with your prayers.
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15-04-2015, 03:56 PM
RE: Redemption
I'm glad to hear that sometimes good things can come out of even our darkest experiences. I'm so glad you're OK. I hope the journaling goes well. I need to be doing that myself. Writing down my problems sometimes really helps put them in perspective. Especially if my brain is obsessing over them, Thank you so much for sharing Hug
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