The Pulsing Haze is Back
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10-02-2016, 07:20 AM
The Pulsing Haze is Back
I have struggled with depression my entire life, from the furthest back I can recall I've had bouts of depression to deal with and it is back again. In the current situation I find myself in I'm left with no way of combating it so I am here to spill my life story out for whomever is willing to read it. I've tapped out my reserves of sleep and now I'm stuck awake and alone with this painful, throbbing weight of depression burrowing through my head and creeping it's way into every vein and pore. My story is not happy, it's not cheery, it's not going to be pleasant to read. So if you wish to simply move on and ignore this posting entirely feel free, I'm selfishly taking up a little bit of space here on this forum as an outlet for my thoughts in order to distract them from any other less healthy distractions from this pain.

I've struggled with a swirl of issues throughout my lifetime, massive depression only being one of these. I have dealt with issues such as hives, syncope, ADD, mood swings and most recently an erratic heart rate that is going untreated as I do not have the funds to have it properly diagnosed and treated. I grew up poor in fact. My earliest memory is of my father sitting in a filthy white chair yelling at my mother about me, probably a good indicator of how this narritive is going to progress if you wish to get out now.

My father was a hippie and a dunk tank clown who went by 'Bobo the Water Clown' in the carnival circuit. He met my mother on the carnival circuit and the memory mentioned above is from West Virginia, a place where my father had stopped the circuit to work at an actual job for a few months during the winter. We lived in a gutted school bus that had been fitted by my father with counters, a bed and a sofa along with the aforementioned chair. Various images flash through my memory of my long haired cousins, sitting outside in the summer by myself playing with sticks or mud, various raging performances put on by my mother and a flash or two of happy moments wedged into the cracks here and there before I truly can say I have a solid memory.

My first vivid memory that has any real substance was well after my mother and father had divorced. My older brother had died when I was 2 or 3 and I now had a younger brother who was around 2 or 3 himself. I had been going to a friend's house after school for a few days so my mother wouldn't have to worry about me being home alone (my brother was in day care and she couldn't afford to put us both there). I was about 5 at the time and my friend was 7, and though I don't recall all of the particulars of the day my friend convinced me to let him put his penis in my mouth. For the record, I'm a guy. And from that point on the memory becomes scorchingly vivid. We were outside at a shed in his back yard and a terrifying scream erupted from inside his house, followed by his mother screeching his name. I was scared by the screaming but other than that I was just completely bewildered as he went racing inside the house. His mother came out moments later glaring at me, and pointed to the bottom step of their porch indicating to me that I was to sit there and wait. Mumbled screaming and yelling erupted from inside, along with several swats that I immediately recognized from my own experiences with a leather belt. This went on for about half an hour until I heard a car speed up the driveway in the front of the house, brakes squelching as it came to a halt, and it's door slamming as the driver got out. As soon as the driver entered the front of the house I immediately recognized my mother's yelling and felt a deep sense of dread. Up until that point I had been hoping my friend had gotten in trouble for something else, but apparently what we had been doing had been seen and was wrong.... and now my mother knew about it.

After what felt like forever, but not nearly forever enough for me, my mother burst through the back door and lifted me up off the porch, and then off my feet by my right ear and dragged me around the house towards the car. Once my feet left the ground her grip slipped and I fell to the ground, at which point she began to kick me towards the car shouting obsenities that involved both homosexual, and for some odd reason racist, slurs at me the whole way. Once inside the car she was deathly quiet. She fumed silently until we got back to our trailer, at which point she jumped out of her seat, flung my door open, grabbed me by the hair and flung me into the gravel yelling 'Pray for your soul right now and hope like hell that God forgives you, you wretched pile of filth!' and kicked me in the head. At that point my memory goes blank.

I wont detail every little minute incident like this during my childhood as the character of my mother should be more or less apparent at this point. Long story short, I am not gay and this was the only incident in my life where I experimented in such a way. My next memory that was significant is only due to the information revieled afterwards, which as it turns out was only a few weeks later. I was outside my brother's daycare in my mom's car when a man in the car behind me shot his wife, went inside and got his kid, came back outside and left. Obviously I had no clue what was happening, but the loud bang in the car behind me scared me enough to get in the floor board of the car and cover up with a blanket. I remember it quite well due to my mother standing at the door shouting at reporters who wanted to ask me questions.

Anyway, skipping to more important things, my mother bounced through phases of faith in varying degrees from very apathetic to 'Satanic Panic' extremes and in fear of my mother I accompanied her into these fits of ferver to satiate her. Throughout my preadolescent years after these incidents, my brother and I worked on my grandfather's farm after school everyday which I just now realized was my mother's way of 'protecting us from corruption and danger'. I hearded cattle, split firewood, dug post holes, put up fences, broke up large rocks, walked fields to clear them of sticks for the hay bailer, and did an innumerable number of other tasks every day for my irritable arthritic grandfather. As a 'birthday present', he 'let me' (read: made me) jackhammer the cement up around his pool for my 10th birthday. I've never really had a birthday party. I've gotten a cake once or twice, and there were a few times I got some sort of gift, but my birthday was never a point of celebration for me.

Moving on. Through all of this and the constant beratings from my bipolar mother and beatings from her ever changing lineup of boyfriends I became very internal. I built my walls high and thick. I locked away my emotions from the world and became a granite slab, refusing to feel anything. And when I turned eleven my father decided he wished to take part in my life and stopped working the carnival circuit, finding a job with Emerson Electric Company and offered to take me for a year. During that year I discovered that my father was an abusive alchoholic mess, but his occasional marijuana binges allowed me a solid reprieve and when he was sober my life was actually somewhat mediocre. When he would get drunk and get in my face, poking me in the chest and 'playfully' slapping me in the face, I was able to retreat behind my walls and deal with it as he dished it out. After my year there I went back to live with my mother. That only lasted a year, at which point I decided I would rather deal with my father's abusive behavior rather than put up with the miriad of problems I was left with with my mother. My father at least drank himself to sleep rather fast some days which allowed me time to myself, with my mother I never seemed to manage a moment of peace.

At this point, my father's religious ferver began to kick in. He was an interesting blend of 7th day adventist, judism and whatever that yahweh church is called plus a smattering of various other fun stuff. Bible reading every Saturday, forced prayers, imposed eating habits and various other little exciting activities became the norm. Add that to his previous behavior and I was pretty much trying to avoid him every chance I got. I began spending a lot of time outside in the woods behind his trailer, enjoying the peace of nature and venting my frustrations on various trees and rotted logs with anything I could find.

After a couple of years living with my father I mentioned to my aunt how my living situation was and she offered me a place to stay. So shortly after my 15th birthday I went to live with her. There I had more freedom than I had ever had and I took advantage of it. I began to smoke behind her back, I began hanging out with the wrong crowd, and I began delving into satanism (LaVey satanism, not that devil worshipping crap) which was my first introduction to athiesm. My behaviour there however got around to my aunt and unfortunately she was incapable of dealing with how I was behaving (she herself being a very devout christian) and so I was shipped back to live with my father.

It was then that I met my now ex wife and experienced the absolute worst of my father's behavior. But that's a story for another day, that section of my life is a whole 'nother 10+ year can of shittyness that I don't have the energy to get into at the moment. Hopefully the majority of you have glazed past this posting, it going unnoticed and not bothering you. To those who've read along, I'm sorry that you've wasted your time reading my worthless life story. I'm sure there's plenty of people who've dealt with worse, I'm not trying to make som 'top this' post. I just needed to vent, even just to myself, because I need a release. It didn't help as much as I'd hoped it would, but I guess it was worth it for the little bit of relief it's granted. I'll be on my way now.
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10-02-2016, 07:43 AM (This post was last modified: 10-02-2016 08:16 AM by Anjele.)
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
I am sorry that you are feeling bad right now. Also, I am sorry for the crap childhood you were stuck in.

It often helps just to say the things out loud...get some of it out because holding it in becomes too much. This is a good place to do that. Many of us have dealt with depression, crappy parents, traumatic events...all of it or some of it.

And yes, I read every word. You are worth that. Others will come by with wiser words than I. here, people will listen. We can't fix things but by taking on a bit of it maybe we can help make some of your burden less.

See here they are, the bruises, some were self-inflicted and some showed up along the way. -JF
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10-02-2016, 08:15 AM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
(10-02-2016 07:43 AM)Anjele Wrote:  And yes, I read every word. You are worth that.

Likewise. Horrible story and I don't blame you for being depressed.

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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10-02-2016, 08:34 AM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
I'm so sorry to had to go through those things, no one deserves to be treated like that, especially not a child.

I'm glad you found us though, our little community here. There are a lot of people here who will care about you and listen to you and try their best to help, let you vent and read your every word. I do think it would be helpful to talk to someone outside of here though--in addition to us--if you haven't already. There is a lot you've had to endure and it might help to talk to a therapist who can help you fully process all of this. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to feel like you have worth.

Oh and we also give a lot of big virtual hugs here, so here you go Hug
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10-02-2016, 10:17 AM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
Wow, I can't think of much else that could have gone wrong for you.

You are a very strong person to have endured all that and come out alive and kicking on the other side.

I am glad you found this place to vent, venting is good, even if it only clarifies your own thoughts to yourself.

So, does this hang over your head much of the time, or do you have intermittent periods when it all bubbles up?

Do feel free to vent here any time. We may not be able to truly help, but we can understand and sometimes just finding people who understand is a great help.

Is there anything you wish others around you would do or not do?

[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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10-02-2016, 10:32 AM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
It can be good to vent. Thank you for sharing your story with us. I hope you will continue to reach out, and hopefully you can find some peace to help you move on and be able to live in the present moment, leaving the past behind. And welcome to the community!

It was just a fucking apple man, we're sorry okay? Please stop the madness Laugh out load
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10-02-2016, 11:21 AM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
Just like the other people who replied, I read your post, and my first thought after I had read it was how self aware you are after having such a difficult and painful childhood.
The second thought was that even though you may have financial difficulties, if you go to a doctor or free mental health clinic they may prescribe some antidepressants to help you when you need them. They work ( I had a few years of them during chemotherapy/radiation years ago, and they helped to prevent panic attacks/depression that I had from all of the chemicals/stress)

They work and do not change who you are at all. It just is a bit more liveable. There are also free clinics with long waiting lists-I live in the US too and it is a bitch to get help when you are not insured...but I do have a friend whose primary doctor prescribed her antidepressants because she could not afford to go to a psychiatrist.

They will help your mood until/unless you do not need them-

Another thought was how well you write-I really felt as if I was watching you as a young child sometimes. That is a gift, to write well.

Finally, I am glad that you posted if it makes you feel beter. I hope that you have people in your life that you can reach out to. Some of the kindest and most creative people I have met were people who had a difficult childhood that they learned from. They used the bad experiences to learn how to feel empathy for other people, but they are also able to read people well and not put up with bullshit. They were also strong enough to balance the empathy with the ability to do what it takes to make themselves better, instead of just accepting the problems they were born into. The strong/kind/street smart skills they had made them better at seeing things from different perspectives and being able to consider different options so they could find solutions for themselves.
I read that stress and abuse during childhood actually changes the neural network...

and you may be able to look into it and find some good ways to understand the depression and also get help for it.
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10-02-2016, 11:42 AM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
I agree with everything posted so far. And you are definitely worth a read Smile
Medication is often required to cure the brain disease that is depression, but in the meantime, I know of cases of depression that have been helped (not cured, but helped) through regular exercise, which does seem to help improve brain chemistry in some cases. It can be as simple as walking, especially in natural surroundings
Some people also find that interacting with animals (pets, farm animals, or even insects!) and nature helps them cope with stress and reduces the symptoms of depression.
I hope you find your way out of the haze, and feel free to vent any time.
Take care.

Your faith is not evidence, your opinion is not fact, and your bias is not wisdom
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10-02-2016, 06:07 PM
RE: The Pulsing Haze is Back
Ouch dude. It was quite the sad story. But I'm glad that you shared it. I really hope you find a way to get some treatment for the depression. And I hope you also have some good things in your life.

And welcome.
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