post_id,text
s_1270_9,"Im not sleeping and my stomach hurts I recently diagnosed myself with adhd, c-ptsd and possibly ASD with extreme executive dysfunction. Ever since running away from insane abusive parents, I was living alone, and I wasnt even able to feed myself on my own. If not for deliveries, I would be long dead. I hate delivery food so much. This has been going on for two years, and my health became worse. I remember after running off, I was lying in the middle of the room for weeks, in complete horror and not being able to move. Eventually I was able to stall everything. My sleep schedule was non existent, I was sleeping days and playing games or watching anime during nights. For the past week my stomach has been very bad. I guess that skipping breakfast for two years does have consequences. I had two months when I was able to fix my sleep, but now I cant fall asleep until sunrise again. Every new panic attack is more suicidal that previous. I so many plans for many human lifetimes and I dont want to die, but Im suffering way too much. Much more that a human body was made to withstand. Funny enough my adhd so far has prevented me from focusing on self harm, but it doesnt last forever."
s_1955_1069,I know right? How DARE they feel bad when someone tells a racist joke? I feel so oppressed.
s_993_1060,I felt really good when I first started it. I was filled with energy. I got so much done for 2-3 months. It all went downhill after that I can't concentrate at all now. I have more sleep troubles and now rely on sleeping pills. Also in constant low moods.
s_321_219,"i hate that im such a weenie i wish all of this wouldnt effect me, but i does and i cry, a lot. ive cried at least once in front of everyone i know irl, and i hate myself so much for this. I hate that my emotion effect others. I hate that i am crying rn. i hate that im weak. My life isnt even that bad, its just that im a pussy. this week was especially bad, ive cried (at least) once every day."
s_2392_17,"Treatment wise I couldn't find anything that worked for me and I looked for about 20 years. Recently I gave up dairy products and now very frequently sleep straight through 6-8 hours a night. There was a time when I was getting 6 hours sleep per week. A small caveat to that it I recently switched to 50mg of Trazadone as well, but if I eat even two eggs during the day I won't sleep at night. I am still trying to work out why I didn't try it before but I currently think that there really were no indicators of allergy or intolerance. Then again, maybe I am just trying to persuade myself that I am not totally stupid! I am bloody glad that the sleepless nights are over though. Good luck to those who are still working on it. It can be a very painful experience to go through."
s_1997_963,"Also, how did you choose your new name? I'm so indecisive, if I was in your boots I'd never be able to decide."
s_1404_102,"Asking advice in a more detailed and extensive post. Read everything before commenting. Most advices simply don't work for me. Most advices don't work for me. Trust me, I have had so many advices, I tried so much. Doesnt work for me. So read everything before posting I'm a 21 year old guy, still studying, 1,85 / 6'0 tall, average looking, bad social skills. I'm not specifically looking for introvert women, but I do have a problem with overly extravert women. Like, those who talk to strangers for no more reason than ""small talk"". I dont know why, it just annoys me alot. Can't be my girlfriend I prefer the quiet ones. 6 reasons why I can't get a girlfriend or even a date or a female friend 1. the combination of being introvert and having ASD and being a weirdo, has made my social skills horrible. Because of my ASD I can never be socially skilled as normal people. It will never be natural to me even if I practise so much. I think women can always smell that something is different about me and that I'm not condifent in socially challenging situations. Online dating doesn't work for me. I'm not ugly but I guess I'm not attractive enough for women. I don't get swiped right on. And if I rarely get a match, I end up being ghosted although I never send any creepy or needy or sexual messages. I do have conversations with women, but 90% of the time a woman I meet is not what I'm looking for, so there it ends. Even in places of my interests. When I have conversations with women, that is always in places where we are both part of the same group of people. And 10% of them women who I like, even if its only a little bit (I'm open minded and not picky so thats not the problem) I have no idea how to take the next step in asking her out privately. I mean to meet when the group does not. I have never had a date and I have no idea where, when and how to ask a woman out for a date. I have no idea in which places and times it is appropriate or not to ask a woman out. + my social skills will mess it up if I even try to ask a woman out. Because of my depression (yes I really got diagnosed) I have less interest in everything. I have no real hobbies. I spend my days gaming and browsing the internet. I'm very open minded to go outside and do fun things together with a woman, but as long as I'm alone I really have nothing to do outside. You can say I'm a pretty boring person. Trust me, I tried different hobbies, it's just not for me. I'm not interested in anything. I can't enjoy anything in life. I tried, really. I'm willing to go outside and try hobbies with a woman but the problem is that right now I have not much to talk about on dating apps and maybe on a first date. I strongly prefer introverted women because 1. they are my type and 2. their social skills will probably not be good enough to smell that i'm not confident and socially skilled. Problem is that I have no idea where to find introverted women. Every time I go out, I only meet women who are overly extraverted and obviously not my type. They are too different from me. I know that introvert women are probably at home as much as I am, so I don't know how to get in contact with them... Yeah online dating, but those shitty apps like tinder have proven to not work at all for me. Not at all. So what have I tried and what am I still trying? I tried about 10 different dating apps and they all gave me no dates. I decided to stop wasting my time on these dati- ehh i mean swiping apps. Yeah because all I can do there is swiping. Not dating. I'm still trying to be social and make friends but my social skills mess it up every time. I tried improving my social skills for many years already but being social will never be natural and easy for me. I go outside, I meet with strangers, I talk with them, I approach women if they look even the slightest attractive, I just don't know how to go from a conversation to having her number or asking her on a date outside of the place where I met her. I also don't know what to talk about since I don't really have hobbies. The problem is not that I have no hobbies, because Im willing to try any hobbies for a girl. Its just that I dont know what to talk about. Dating apps will not work for me. I get 0 likes, 0 matches and if i get one I will be ghosted soon. My social circle, my friends, no. There are no nice women of my age in my social circle. University, I don't like anyone in my class, so I will HAVE TO approach strangers. Which I can't because my social skills are terrible and they can smell it. Make female friends without the intention of a relationship? Same problem, I have no idea how to achieve this either. ***All of this doesn't work for me. What options do I have left to try??***"
s_205_396,"I'm 26 and same, and honestly it has never bothered me at all. I've just never been that interested in sex or relationships and I don't think I ever will be."
s_2886_101,"Hard to 'absorb' things when you're misserable. And in the case for major depression, you're usually experiencing a depletion or a disregulation of neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin and your brain just isnt working properly. I've had experience with both depression and major depression. I've come out of a major depressive episode that lasted about a year and I still have some problems with focus. My mind can just wander even if someone is talking directly to me. Getting better with time and healing though."
s_993_557,Even I can't understand but spent 2 and half months on bed and was barely able to hold on to my job. Those 2 and half months my parents supported me. I have aging parents and still they are taking care of me. I feel lot of guilt due to this.
s_1639_444,"Given prednisone for a suspected ear infection via telehealth visit. How long should I give it to work before calling my pcp? 33F, White, 155lbs, 54. Medications: Esomeprazole 40mg, Zoloft 50 mg. I take a probiotic supplement for IBS-C. Medical conditions: GERD, IBS-C. Relevant history: I have a tube already in my left ear . Its been in place for about 18 months, and was checked a few months back and still place and looking good. Also, my two kids have had some general crud this week: low-grade fevers, sneezing, and snotty noses. They werent seen at the doctor, but seem to be recovered now. I started feeling poorly Friday, just a headache and a little mucus in my nose. Saturday (yesterday,) I woke up with a swollen lymph node in front of my left ear (I think its called preauricular) that was ridiculously painful and my ear started to hurt slightly throughout the day. I called Doctor on Demand who prescribed me prednisone for the lymph node and told me to start Flonase. I slept 10 hours last night, which is a lot for me, and then took a 2 hour nap today. I dont have a fever, but feel slightly chilled and clammy like I am feverish. My ear feels slightly full, and the left side of my face is tender, in addition to the headache. I got really light headed randomly this afternoon as well. I have taken the 20mg prednisone last night and today, and have three more days of it to take. I feel really terrible, and fatigued. How long should I wait before being seen in person? The last time my ear got really good and infected, it was months before I was able to get it cleared up and hearing out of it again, so Im trying to avoid that. Thanks for any guidance you can give."
s_2338_920,"[Rant] Grocery store parking lots I just need to get this off my chest because I can't stop crying. I almost hit a family today with my car, pregnant mother included. I was waiting to back out, letting cars pass me in my tiny Prius C, struggling to look around the big truck parked next to me. Finally a break in the cars passing, so I start to back out slowly. Then I see a woman to my right looking terrified, so I stop and look around me and I see a man yelling at me. I shrug, say ""I'm so sorry!"", look around me once more and keep backing up. More yelling as I see a 30 week pregnant woman rushing to walk out of the way as I start to back out again. Turns out she was in my huuuge blind spot (the corner of my car). I start crying, yell ""I'm so sorry"" and finally back out and drive away. Now I can't stop crying. I can't be for sure I didn't tap someone with my car because I didn't get out and ask like I should have. I'm trying to reassure myself that there wasn't frantic screaming as I was trying to pull away, just me getting the finger from the man and yelled at. I also didn't feel anything as I was backing out. Now I'm going to live in constant fear for the upcoming weeks that the police are going to show up at my door and haul me away. Fuck my car's blind spot, fuck my apparently not thorough checking all my mirrors and windows. At least for once I'm not trying to blame the family, though it did cross my mind for a second. **EDIT** Thank you all SO MUCH. I feel so much better. Went and got my hair cut and have completely calmed down. DH is even taking me out to dinner to help me feel better too. Thanks for your kind words and support :)"
s_156_366,"I cant go to college... I 100% know that if I have to go to college alone without my family or any support Im gonna end up killing myself....Im barely keeping my self alive now, I can't imagine being all by myself and dealing with my thoughts and emotions! I just hate living like this...I wish the world would just end so I can die and not hurt the people I leave behind.. I don't know what to do..."
s_2748_341,"My sex drive has been in overdrive for years (I'm 28) I love anything sexual. It's a release and for a brief moment I don't feel horrible, and I'm incredibly attracted to the female body. Even if there's no romantic interest, just playing with or seeing a female body drives me absolutely wild. I've only ever been with a few girls, and none have been able to keep up with my drive, so it makes for a frustrating life. But what else is new. After being on antidepressants I'm feeling fairly stable. Just trying to get a consistent sleep schedule going. Seems like I can only sleep 4-5 hours at a time and at weird times."
s_1404_1048,Why is it impossible for me to fall asleep early in the evening even if I woke up very early the same day and its already dark outside? I never get enough sleep unless I dont have to wake with an alarm clock. Its impossible to fall asleep at not-late times. Even if I woke up early the same day. Even if im tired Even if its dark outside Even if im relaxed. I still cant fall asleep why? But if I go to bed late I can easily fall asleep so the problem is really time. Why does work and school expect people to be able to fall asleep early in order to wake up early and why is it impossible for me to fall asleep so early?
s_329_224,In retrospect I realize that I made a lot of mistakes. I should have waited longer for the effects to kick in. I should have also not taken theanine as that has the ability to increase inhibitory neurotransmitter levels as well as act directly to block overproduction of excitatory neurotransmitters. And as you said the anti depressants were causing problems. Just a few things to take note of before I decide to try it again
s_2748_278,"It took me two weeks for celexa, and I had to reduce my dose. I was so tired all the time and would sleep for 14+ hours a day and wake up feeling like I needed to go back to sleep. I still don't have the energy I wish I had. No motivation. But at least I'm not depressed anymore."
s_1404_1341,"I don't exercise because of my extreme fatigue. Recently I tried it, I went for a 5 minutes run, 5 minutes and only once, the rest of the day I was extremely tired and more tired than before the run, so I guess exercise is too much for my body."
s_2401_82,I have no control I'm crying on the floor. I'm filled with anger. Can't even express my emotions to anyone. Why are people so cruel to me. I dont wanna live like this. I maybe overreacting. People don't even try to understand what I'm going through. I can't control myself rn. I'm fidgeting on the floor with agony. I feel like my heart is bleeding. Will i always suffer? Will this ever end? I'm going nuts. Worst part is i have to go out of my room like nothing is wrong with me. I hate this. I wanna be saved. I want this to end.
s_2055_843,"I was in a similar situation up until recently. Worked at least 50-60 hours every week for years. It was a double edged sword. On one hand I had fuck you money, helped me advance my standard of living, and purchase a home. On the other hand I gained a massive amount of weight, a drinking problem, and a unhealthy relationship with my SO. Lately a few things have changed, and my responsibility is shared with a whole other department so suddenly we don't even have volunteer OT. It's almost hard to adjust to the 40 hour week. I almost don't know what to do with myself, all my hobbies withered over the years. It's like I am getting out of jail. Luckily I set my life up to run on 40 hour per week, a lot of my coworkers will have a day of reckoning since they have BMW payments, and expensive mortgages to pay."
s_2748_389,"I just started on celexa last wednesday. Ive never been so tired for so long. I slept most of yesterday, went back to bed at 930 last night and slept until 10am this morning and im still exhausted. I cant get anything done feeling this tired. It's crippling. On the upside my depression is gone, but at the expense of my energy levels. I cant tell which is worse. They both suck."
s_2338_314,"There are plenty of times I don't eat when I'm hungry, but the constant fixation on food is what is really getting to me."
s_258_598,"Hey, this a very important question and Im glad you decided to post it. Headaches and unbearable fatigue are the first that seem the most prominent for me. And its a very sharp headache just on the sides of my head - I could take as many Advils, as I want but sometimes the ache starts to throb and it just compels me to put my head down . Then the fatigue , always always tired, body feels heavy - I have a few energy peaks but generally by 5pm, I just want to sleep or feel like Im waiting to sleep. Next is breathing which always kinda scares me although doctors have said its linked to anxiety. I develop shortness of breath much quicker than I used too- its as if out of nowhere I have to take a huge breath because the air in my chest feels stuck . Then chest pains, muscle spasms, and speaking in a monotonous dragged out voice . I hope it gets better for you though; I really do."
s_835_46,"Please Don't Take My Heart This will be the first time I share this story in it's entirety. It will also almost certainly be the last story I ever share. I have a very short time and limited resources, so please do forgive me if I make this somewhat brief. My name is Daryl Jacobs. If you've not heard of me, I ask that you please read my account here before you search for my name online. I will share the details that made me infamous, but I would prefer that you hear them from me first. Public opinion can be detailed, but it rarely has an empathetic or complete picture of those who suffer it's judgement. My situation certainly exemplifies this. I suppose that I should start with my condition. When I was twenty-four I discovered that I had a severe congenital heart condition. I was diagnosed with a large atrial septal defect that was growing and tearing over time. At the time it was discovered it was so severe that a transplant was chosen as the first possible course of action. For those that are in the know about these things, this is quite unusual. It speaks to the severity of my condition at this point, and I was informed by many doctors during the time that I was lucky to be alive. This situation was incredibly scary and painful as it was. It was made worse by the fact that, at this point in my life, I had been enjoying my new family. My wife Samantha and I had given birth to our daughter Selena just three year before this discovery. We had bought a new home, and had been living in the honeymoon period after our recent marriage. We had just had our first Christmas at home all together a short time before the incident that landed me in the hospital. The thought of losing all of this so quickly, so near the beginning of this new adventure was unbearable. Samantha had some very difficult emotional times over the following months. Our lives were full of worry, tears, and anxiety. We learned a lot trying to communicate about how we could structure things so that if I did pass, that she and Selena could support themselves. These were very difficult conversations for us both but I felt entirely responsible for ensuring the continuation of my family if I did not survive. As often happens the particular difficulty of my situation became my saving grace. A combination of my young age, decent health and new family moved me to the top of the transplant recipient list. Only four months after my diagnosis I was being scheduled for a heart transplant from a donor who was very similar in age, size and health. We were overjoyed, but not without worry. The success rate for heart transplants are not overly comforting. The expected life span, post surgery, were also a grim reminder of the intensity of what I was about to go through. As you most likely inferred, the surgery was a success. I left the operating room at Cedars-Sinai approximately six months after my initial diagnosis, and twelve days after that I was allowed to return home with a clean, though frequently monitored, bill of health. I was also able to return to work that year having been given an open-ended leave of absence, and within one years time my life went from death sentence to a reasonable expectation of another twenty to forty years. As dark as some of that time was, I came out of the experience with new values, and a lust for life and love for my family that I had never had before. I was in an exceptional place mentally and spiritually at the conclusion of this little saga. It was this, the incredible mental positivity I had, that made the upcoming ordeals feel so strange and alien to me. The first incident that I can recall happened after Samantha and I had had an argument in the kitchen while making breakfast together on a Sunday morning. I had this friend Kimmie at work. She was a very attractive and incredibly intelligent thirty-something Asian woman and we had hit it off as soon as we were put into the same department a few years earlier. We got pretty close at work and frequently shared lunches together. There were the usual comments from our co-workers who would call her my ""work wife"", but it was truly just a platonic friendship, though intimate. I guess that I had been talking about Kimmie for some time that morning and my wife Samantha just had too much of it. ""Can we please just stop talking about Kimmie!"" She threw the spatula into the pan and turned glaring at me. I felt really hurt. I had been trying to tell her something important and I felt like she was really out-of-sorts with her own jealousy. I shot back. "" I'm going to go check on Selena."" This was a common relationship dysfunction that we had. Any time we would fight one of us would step up as some kind of parenting super-hero. I headed down the hall to our daughter's room with the intention of spending some time playing with her while Samantha cooked and cooled down a bit. When I pushed the door open I found Selena standing and staring directly at me, as if she was waiting for me. I saw that she had been playing with her letter blocks on the carpet and I saw that her little left hand was pointing down at them. For a moment, when my mind first recognized a readable word I was brimming with pride in her development. When I read the word, and saw the smile on her face I swooned and grabbed the door frame to stop from falling. ""Betrayer"" was spelled out in wooden blocks on the floor and Selena's smile turned into a giggle as she pointed at me. I was overcome with shame and this feeling of suffocation. I found it nearly impossible to breath and lowered myself to a squatting position, putting my face in my hands to overcome the incredibly overwhelming feeling. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I struggled to regain my composure. ""Daddy Ok?"" Selena's little voice broke the spell. She put her little cool hand on my head and I righted myself. When I did regain my composure I saw that the blocks were simply a random pile with no discernible pattern. I went so far as to turn the pile of them over until I proved to myself that they could not have possibly spelled that word, even if Selena could have done so. There were only half the letters present to spell ""Betrayer"". When I returned to the kitchen with Selena, and apologized to Samantha about going on about my friend, she immediately made me lay down in bed. Apparently I was sheet white and sweating to a point that was immediately noticeable. I never told Sam what I had seen, just figuring that I must harbor some serious guilt about being so close to Kimmie, and it had come to a head after that argument. In retrospect I see this as the first time it happened. I had many other similar, but different, instances of this type of thing over the coming months. I recall walking past Selena's room one day weeks later, while Samantha was talking to her. In just the split second of passing the door I saw my daughter look up at my wife holding her hand and asking ""Why won't daddy just die?"" I stopped dead and returned to the room. "" What did you say?"" The both looked at my questioningly and asked why I was asking. ""I thought I heard my name."" ""We were just talking about her homework."" ""Selena, you weren't asking about Daddy?"" I was starting to feel like I was being patronized. I had pretty clearly heard what was said. ""No Daddy. want me to?"" She said it playfully, but she had this curl in her smile that felt goading. Like it was a threat. ""No, I don't want to hear it."" I was getting red in the face, I could feel it. I stormed off to the garage to work on a table I had been refinishing. Moments later Samantha came in hot, and we fought for an hour about the way I had spoken to Selena. I never told her what happened, just trying to blame it on a bad day. She was not happy or particularly interested in my attempts to excuse myself. It took a few days for us to completely recover, in which I paid particular attention to being extremely kind to my daughter and wife. This did seem to pass. A few weeks later I got into a hot bath after dinner. It had been a very stressful day. I found out that I was on a list at work, being considered for layoff. Only half of my department was considered and I was included in the selection. We were worried about income and Sam was putting a lot of stress on me to start searching for alternative employment immediately. Selena was in a poor mood after being up late the night before and I just needed some escape. As a father, the bathtub has become a sacred space for me to get the personal time and space that I need. This day that peace was shattered. I soaked and relaxed for the first couple of minutes. I then started to notice that the heat of the bath was becoming too much and I was overheating. I started feeling really thirsty and my heart began to beat louder and louder. It got to a point where it felt like my heartbeat was shaking the tub, and pounding incessantly into my already aching head. Then it just stopped. I don't mean that my heart stopped, I mean that the intensity of the heat and noise stopped stealing my attention, and I began to hear the muffled sounds from the bedroom across the hall. "".... loves her... no ... not anymore. I know.... we can't let him...."" Sam was clearly talking to someone other than Selena. "" No... done... He thinks... Kimmie and then Selena. I know.... touched her.... middle of the night.... fuck, he's dead.... this time next week. I need your help.... yes. hospital at 9pm.... yes. .... already dead."" I sat bewildered, intensely focused on hearing each word as this got more intense. Her voice was cold and harsh. She sounded angry but resolved. I had never heard Samantha talk like that before and it was frightening. I jumped out of the bath, grabbed a towel and popped out into the hallway, trying to catch her on the phone before the conversation was over. I found her in the kitchen doing dishes. ""Hey, who was that?"" ""Who was who."" without turning from the sink. ""On the phone."" ""I wasn't on the phone."" I looked at her closely. She had stopped doing dishes and seemed frozen, but still not turning towards me. I could see tension in her shoulders. I could feel the stillness in the room, and it set me off immediately. I grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face me. She shouted, grabbing her left hand as I looked down and saw that she was bleeding. ""What the fuck!"" She bent over gripping her hand, examining the cut and grabbing some paper towels to wrap it. "" What the fuck is wrong with you?"" She looked me dead in the eyes this time. I stared. I was caught between anger at her lies and the guild of having hurt her. I couldn't seem to choose either direction. ""Mommy, Daddy hurt you!"" Selena was now behind me. I turned to comfort her and she flinched and backed up. That's when the anger overtook me. My vision became like static, and started going red. I spun and shouted ""I want to know what the fuck is going on!"" Selena ran to Sam who held her close. Sam's anger at being hurt seemed to be pushed aside instantly. Why don't you go dry off and get dressed. We can talk when you're ready."" It took me a moment, but the empathy in her eyes did calm me down. I did just that, dried off and got dressed in the bedroom. I came out to an empty kitchen. I searched the house to find them both gone and then the phone rang. Samantha explained to me that she was worried about me. That her and Selena were going to stay with Sam's parents until the weekend and that she wanted me to see my doctor. At this point I had calmed, and Sam was very calm and reasonable, expressing a lot of concern about what was going on for me. I was tempted to open up and tell her what I had heard from the bathroom but something stopped me. I knew what I heard, and if it was true I needed to be careful. I was honesty afraid that Sam thought I was hurting Selena and was planning to do something about it. The idea drove me mad, and I didn't have any idea what to do about it. I saw my doctor the next day, after Sam setup the appointment for me. I assumed that she had been quite adamant and detailed about what she thought the problem was in order to get me a slot so quickly. When I saw the doctor he said that he understood that I was experiencing some emotional swings. After a checkup, his solution was to refer me to a psychiatrist. On the way out of his office, headed to the front desk he inquired about any heart issues, and I described the strong heart beat in the bath tub. I was informed that this was natural but that I should be mindful in the future with very hot baths. He headed off to see another patient leaving me in the now empty lobby to provide my copay. The woman at the desk was a wide eyed twenty something who looked like she was halfway between a goth club, and a Wall Street office. ""Oh, you're the guy that got his heart, right?"" She said with wonder on her face. ""I had a transplant. Do you know the donor?"" ""Uh, of course, everyone was talking about it. Wait... "" she suddenly stopped and looked down. ""Who was he?"" ""I'm sorry.... I."" She started pushing papers to sign over the desk to me. "" It'll be fifty dollars."" I could feel my temperature rising. I bent down and slowly pushed the paper back toward her meeting her eye line. ""Everyone is talking about it. You were about to tell me who my donor was."" I recall seeing fear in her eyes. I recall that it aroused me slightly, in a way I had not felt before. She looked to her left and right quickly, seeing no one around. ""JJ Harrow."" ""Who is he?"" I had no recollection of the name, though it seemed clear that she expected me to know him. ""The Philly Cutter?"" concern in her eyes. I stopped for a moment, thinking. Then I remembered the newspaper stories from the previous year or two. This guy, JJ, had been found guilty of several murders in the Philadelphia area and some surrounding states. I remember that he had begun randomly slashing women with a razor blade on busy center city streets. Suddenly a victim would find themselves bleeding profusely to find later that they had been cut quite deeply near a major artery in their leg. After a few weeks of that scare, it had stopped, and women had started to go missing at an alarming rate. Over two months he had abducted and tortured twelve women in Pennsylvania and Tennessee. He had strung them up and cut them slowly until they bled out. Eventually they had decided to try him in Tennessee because that state had the option of the death penalty, which was the verdict in this case. It all came together. I had been giving the Cutter's heart. I felt ill, and I could see the contention on the secretary's face. I paid and left quickly, saying nothing further, and then returning to my empty house. I made an appointment with a psychiatrist and had many talks over the phone with Sam and Selena over the next few days. I didn't tell her about the heart, it was just too much and I knew it would just scare her. That Sunday was the day. It was the day they returned. It was the day everything ended. The last thing I remember was finishing a nice meal for them, and sitting on the couch waiting. They were supposed to be home around one o'clock. I remember it turning two. I remember sitting on the couch looking at the food getting cold on the table. I remember hearing them come to the front door several times only to find that they weren't back yet. Then I remember nothing. When the police cuffed and lifted my body from the pool of blood in my living room I could see the bodies of Sam and Selena. Their eyes were wide, their mouths open. I can still see them. I see them every day and all night. I do my best to not think about them at all if I can help it. They plague me and I ignore them. There's nothing I can do for them. I could punish myself but there is only a short time to do so, and I don't see the point. I don't know exactly what happened but it was not me. I. I am not me. This brings me to the real reason I am bothering to write and smuggle this out this at all. I am to be executed in five days. Before I was locked up I had chosen to be an organ donor. The prison is not allowing me to change this being so close to me execution (and I think just to deny me something, more than just my life, as further punishment.) So I ask you. No matter how ill you are. No matter what you are going through even if it is assured death. For your own good. Please don't take my heart."
s_1601_124,"Now the trick is to know what you truly want. Being around her during those days only taught me that her lifestyle wasn't something I was envious of anymore. I wanted to be outgoing and sociable just like her, until yesterday when I had some sort of a meltdown from being overly stimulated (we spent the whole day out, which is something I never liked and never really did, unless I was alone and actively busy). We were in the middle of a theatre play, during the entr'act at 10 pm, when I just got up and left. Too much was happening and I wanted some time to myself. During that moment she was chatting with people she had just met, and in 15 minutes she got invited to a party. I went from ""omg that is so cool how did she do that"" to ""good for her but I'm glad I'm not her"" in seconds. I'm glad I'm more aware of my inability to enjoy being sociable. Just gotta accept it now."
s_676_482,"I may make some cookies tomorrow then. I've had 0 energy to do anything but forcing myself to make cookies may help, lol. You're welcome and you're welcome!"
s_1077_440,Cnt remember last time i cried
s_2455_114,I just ate an entire bag of chips. My life is going nowhere.
s_2334_738,Ive never gotten this many downvotes on anything. I cant stop crying.
s_1552_299,"Been there and it really sucks. Right now my mood is actually quite good and has been for a bit now. I look at it as ""remission"" only. I know at some point it'll like come back. ( I've been dealing with depression in some form for 25 years. But I've had way more good years than bad.) One thing I use to handle that ""little voice"" is thought stopping. I've heard ""they say"" that it's not a good way to deal with it, that you should work it out through therapy. But you know, it works for me, because I know that ""little voice"" is lying to me. So when it starts, I just say ""STOP"" in my head and change the subject and I keep doing that until it stops. It really sucks to be where you are right now. I wish there was more I could do for you but a rambling note on reddit is the best I can do. Take care, you're not alone."
s_1601_751,"I have social anxiety too, actually. And I had therapy for that. My therapist had a hard time understanding why I wasn't trying hard enough, even though I really was. She would force me to do those things I don't naturally do, like looking up when I walk or look people in the eyes during a conversation. I wouldn't start conversation with strangers (or anyone) unless I had to. I think the anxiety is milder now, which I am thankful for. I have had some pleasurable social interactions, but they were usually because I was doing something I loved first, and people just happen to be there with me. Back in my home city, there was this hipster café I absolutely loved. I would go out with a couple of high school classmates there only because I knew that, one, I loved the atmosphere, it helped my anxiety calm down. Two, there is wifi, and being young adults, we love our internet (so quiet time for me). Three, the food was amazing and I am a food lover (more quiet time for me). Them being here was no problem, and being in a place that promoted non-awkward silences helped a lot. But that doesn't really make me happy. I want it to make me happy. Now I have been in Germany for two months. I have no friends or acquaintances at all, and I seldom talk to people back home. It doesn't bother me, I don't feel the need to go and be sociable. But the people I live with, a lovely couple and their baby, are so happy that sometimes, I can't help but wish I had their life. However I know being in a relationship will not happen, and having a social life is unimaginable. I think I could be a mother, but how good of a mother can I be? Another topic, still figuring myself out in that department. Sorry this came out long and uninteresting. But having depression, anxiety, and SPD at the same time? It's like someone wanted me to have a shit life. And they've been successful so far."
s_716_26,"I honestly don't know how to pick a name or names for what I'm feeling, but it would sure make me feel better. I honestly don't know how to pick a name for what I'm feeling. I'm certain I'm straight gray-a (I feel pretty much no sexual attraction, but I can feel romantically attracted), either that or my libido is just perfectly shot. But I feel fine with the thought of never having sex-- or do I? This is going to sound perfectly ordinary, but I only get off to gay porn or fanfic. The part that I ponder over is why I feel like I would be better off as a gay dude. I'm not transexual-- at least I don't think I am. Aren't they usually pretty sure about it? I never minded being a girl. One thing of note is I find pregnancy personally abhorrent; the thought of *myself* being pregnant literally fills me with disgust. I think it might be considered a phobia of sorts. I don't think it is the cause of my asexuality, but it might be a contributor. Even before all of that realization though, I never had an interest in dating while I was still in junior high/high school. I couldn't understand why girls oogled at guys, I thought, 'sure that guy looks attractive, but why are you losing your shit over it?' I literally gave no fucks. It was only later after my second boyfriend, I realized I cannot feel sexual attraction (if I have, it was very temporary), and that I am probably asexual due to the fact that I just get disgusted with myself when it comes to the sex part. I messed around with non penetration stuff, but ultimately it got to the point where it felt disgusting. And I never actually felt connected when I was involved sexually with my boyfriend, despite how I felt toward him romantically. Like, I removed myself mentally from the situation pretty much while it was happening. Then I started thinking, and I just realized: you know, I'm pretty, but I've never really felt comfortable in my own skin, and not by an 'I'm ugly' standpoint, but mentally. I just... don't feel like I belong in my body. It's not overwhelming or persistent, I don't even feel like I would be strictly *male*, just... that I don't feel like either gender? Male is the best fit maybe, but I don't mind being female. It's just, there's this quiet and unnerving sort of feeling that something is wrong. It's been there even since I was a little kid. I don't mind being asexual and never having sex, but the part I do mind is likely being alone forever because of that. I dunno, am I weird? Sorry for this unstructured rambling. Feel free to ask questions if anything has confused you. I wouldn't think any of you are weird ever, it's just that experiencing this for myself is so very confusing and stressful and sad at the worst of times..."
s_1208_181,"I can start calm, but rarely can I maintain it. Nice response"
s_2415_816,I ramble too much. People say I ramble a lot. I have no friends. I feel as if everyone makes fun of me. Nobody likes me. I don't like me. My life is hell and it might never get better. P.S I rambled again. I am such a sucker.
s_2007_1467,Im generally tired So
s_1673_863,"I rolled over on to my right side, seeking optimal comfort under the oppressive softness and warmth of my heavy comforter. Letting out a sigh of content I curled up tighter, trying to squeeze every bit of warmth from this unforgiving room. Winter nights have always been the worst in this house. The draft that permeated the upper floors was almost unbearable at times, prompting the purchase of the extra thick bedsheets. One would think that there must be some sort of problem with the top floor, perhaps a lack of insulation, or improperly laid venting. The problem here is that I've had the house inspected several times by various different people. From furnace and duct work specialists to general contractors and so far no one has found anything of note. It was frustrating to say the least but luckily everything else about the house is great. I should probably just invest in a space heater and stop complaining to be honest. As the thoughts of of my house slowly wound down into peaceful nothingness, the hands of the sandman carefully wrapped around me, dragging me ever more quickly into his realm of slumber. Biology seemed to have a different idea though, and with my consciousness waning my bladder made a desperate plea. "" Seriously?"" I thought to myself ""Always at the worst times, I swear"". I grumbled audibly as I tentatively removed myself from my wonderful cocoon and stepped into the frigid landscape that was my bedroom. I grabbed a sweater that hung from the door and slipped it on, already shivering in the pale moonlight. Glancing at my alarm told me it was 12:26 am. I had been tossing and turning for nearly 2 hours. I've suffered from mild insomnia for years, so this wasn't anything new to me. However it didn't make it any more easy to leave my thermal sanctuary. As if sensing what I was doing my bladder let out an even more desperate cry, forcing me to nearly duck waddle as I made my way down the dark hallway to the bathroom. I flicked the light switch on, blinding myself in the process. Through squinted eyes I was able to make out the toilet and begin my business. My eyes had adjusted by the time I was finished, so I took a moment to inspect my face in the mirror as I washed my hands. My eye's were those of a man who was far too tired and cold, nearly dead in their stare. If I they weren't mine I'd probably be scared of eyes like this. I took a second to inspect the thin scar that ran across the bridge of my nose, a remnant of my childhood. I had apparently done battle with a coffee table when I was 5 and the coffee table won. "" I got a cool scar out of it at least"" I thought to myself. I finished my hands and flushed the toilet. This is my least favorite part of late night wanderings. I stood in the doorway, took a deep breath and turned off the bathroom light. Now I'm not a superstitious person, I'm not paranoid, I'm not one to jump at shadows. For some reason though, standing in total darkness waiting for my eyes to adjust, has always terrified me, even in my own home. When i was younger It was a real problem. I'd never go to the bathroom at night unless i absolutely had to, to the point where wetting the bed was a more preferred outcome. As I became older it did get better but even now at 23 i still get freaked out about late night lavatory visits. They say that the fear of the dark is simply the fear of the unknown and i believe that holds true. I'd imagine it's a primeval thing, dating back to when a shadow in the dark was likely a predator trying to eat you. The lack of predators in the urban sprawl doesn't comfort me though. When my eyes finally came into focus I started to make my retreat towards my downy fortress. My eyes deceived me though and i managed to stub my pinky toe, on the unseen door to the laundry room, which had been left slightly open. The pain was bad but i was too tired to do anything but grumble and shuffle back to my room. Slipping the sweater off, I crawled back into bed. I was beginning to drift off again when i heard it. A single muffled bump. Normally this wouldn't have really bothered me but I was already on edge from my recent expedition. I decided It was probably nothing until I heard another one a minute or so later. It was strange but likely just an animal on the roof. But it continued and my sleep deprived mind went to thoughts of Jeremy. This is what got me out of bed. Slowly standing up, I donned my sweater once more and stepped into the dim hallway for a second time. I made my way slowly down the hall, my eyes already keen in the darkness. I didn't want to turn on any lights lest I lose what night vision I had. I made it to the bathroom and listened. I heard the bump again, it definitely wasn't on the roof like I had previously thought. It seemed to be coming from downstairs. My stomach jumped into my chest. I lost all sense of self preservation and ran downstairs not caring who was listening. I made it to the second door on the left and swung it open, flicking on the light as i did so. What greeted me was extremely relieving. "" What are you doing Jeremy? Whats the matter?"" My son looked at me, a rather terrified and confused look on his face and then he ran over and hugged my leg. I picked him up, and held him tightly as he tried his best to explain what was wrong. He was a decent speaker for 3 but he seemed to be trying to say a couple different things at once. I calmed him down and eventually found out that he had heard a monster making noise upstairs. He said he didn't want to go up there so he tried banging on his wall to get attention. I smiled at that, which prompted and even more quizzical look from my son. "" Don't worry I was just up there, and If there were any monsters they must have run away scared"". Jeremy seemed relieved at that, but still seemed a bit shaken up. "" Do you want to sleep in our bed tonight?"" I asked , i got a small nod in answer. I carried him upstairs, showing him the lack of monsters firsthand, which calmed him down immensely. By the time i laid him in between my wife and I, he was already sound asleep. My wife rolled over a gave me a look, to which i responded ""Don't worry about it, just dealing with some monsters"". I climbed into bed pecked my wife and son on the cheek and drifted off."
s_2401_6,I've been going through the same thing. I have really important exams coming in less then 20 days and i can concentrate at all. I can't remember anything. Not just studies. I've been in treatment for depression and anxiety. Ever since then my life seems like a blur. I can't explain.
s_2759_135,I am sad and I don't know why :(
s_145_86,"Need support first lap this coming Tuesday My first lap is this coming Tuesday and I'm really really scared about it. I've cried. I've worried. I've become terrified based on what others have said...
I just really need to hear words of why it was worth it, and positive experiences...I get that its surgery and its going to hurt. I basically just need some comfort from people who can understand my situation."
s_1265_353,I'm finally on medication now. But for most of my life I was not on meds and I was anxious. Could barely make decisions. When I was forced to make decisions I had such anxiety before during and after. So yeah... decisions were nearly impossible
s_439_101,"Thankfully I was able to realize that I was in a bad place and get help. My sister has been awesome helping me through this. I'm still working on forgiving myself for marrying someone who isn't nice. I can mostly admit now that the way she treats me isn't healthy or acceptable and that it's not my fault. Sometimes I can think that things will work out better for me after we're done. Sometimes, though, I get stuck thinking about what I could have done to fix things between us. I can't help feeling like a failure. It's ironic because neither of our respective parents are still married but I actually thought that we could make it."
s_1404_1071,"Am I asexual or just inexperienced? When women send me nudes that I didn't ask for, I don't feel anything about those nudes. They are just pictures. I also don't like the idea of having sex with women. But I do masturbate and pretty women (in clothes) do turn me on which makes me want to masturbate. I don't like the idea of having sex with a woman. If I try it (im still virgin) will it be a good experience and will I probably like it then? Am I really asexual based on my current feelings and thoughts, or do I not like the idea of sex only because I haven't experienced yet how good it feels? Am I really asexual or do I only think I am? Are virgins who are not asexual supposed to desire having sex with another human?"
s_2815_1660,"Comfort Food My wife lost her battle with bone cancer a year ago. I have no one. Ive worked from home for the last six months. My employer has been sympathetic and accommodating after everything that happened. Too many workplaces neglect and end up getting rid of disabled employees. I guess I should feel valued. Breakfast was mac and cheese left over from the night before. I hadnt made enough for my breakfast to be even remotely satisfying. Stock prices and quantitative analytics spilled from my computer monitors as I tried to concentrate on work. My eyes kept drifting over to the picture of me and Brynn on our wedding day. I have no attention span when Im hungry. I groaned as I lifted myself into a standing position. My knees were shot. I made my way over to the kitchen pantry and got a bag of chips and a bottle of soda. Coughing as I trundled across the office over to my desk, Id already opened the chips and was pushing them into my mouth. As I walked by and saw my reflection in the glossy murk of my hibernating television, I could swear I saw Brynn standing by my side. When I blinked, she was gone. Just like a year ago. By lunchtime I was just finishing the chips and the bottle of soda. I was ravenous. My concentration had improved somewhat as I ate, and I made a few good trades that got my company some cash and me a nice commission or two. But it was noon. The market volume was drying up as everyone went to lunch. Id start working again around two and go hard until closing bell. Until then, I had to eat something. The pizza delivery guy always brings me extra stuff because Im a generous tipper. At this point in my career, I earn more money than I know what to do with, so why not spread it around? I ordered two large Sicilian pizzas, some mozzarella sticks, garlic knots, and chicken alfredo. The delivery guy brought me a pint of ice cream and a cannoli. He got a $100 tip. I think my interaction with him is some of the only person-to-person contact I have nowadays. I sat in front of the TV as I ate. I didnt bother to turn it on. When I looked up after finishing my first pizza, Brynns reflection was watching me. Her body was distorted by the curved surface of the television. She was shorter. Heavier looking. Compressed. She moved her arms as if to embrace me. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to regain my composure. I had to be hallucinating. The lids of my eyes lifted to the sight of her face inches from mine. My scream reverberated throughout my cavernous office space. Before Id finished my yell, shed wrapped her arms around me and nestled her head against my shoulder. Everything went white. All I can remember from that moment was blissful warmth and closeness. I can only describe it as reexperiencing the minute I knew I was in love with her, along with all the associated tactile sensations of the most intimate embrace Id ever felt. The experience couldnt have lasted more than two seconds. When it was over, it was as if every organ had been ripped from my body and Id been left to exsanguinate on the floor. A feeling of overwhelming emptiness swept over me like an atomic inferno. My mourning period following Brynns death was nothing compared to this. I was a bottomless pit of despair and loneliness. The expanse of my lunch was still spread in front of me. Mindlessly, I began eating. Every swallow felt like an eyedropper of water attempting to refill an evaporated oceanscape. But it was progress. I ate until nothing was left. My stomach ached, protesting the amount of food it had been forced to accommodate in such a short period of time. But the hunger remained. The emptiness remained. And it taunted me. I tried to get on with my day. Work was out of the question. There wasnt much food in my house, so Id started drinking soda. I definitely had enough of that. One of my closets had countless three-liter bottles of the generic brand I preferred over the popular ones. Id gone through two of them before I started feeling lightheaded. I couldnt begin to imagine what this was doing to my already-unhealthy blood sugar. That was the least of my concerns. Around 8pm I walked out of my house for the first time in almost a month. Everything had been delivered to me over that period of time. Hoping there was still gas in my X5, I clambered up into the drivers seat. I was shocked at how much bigger Id gotten since I last drove and felt my only moment of relief all day when I discovered the seat could go back another few inches. The car started with no effort and I began driving to the store. I was in no condition to drive. My vision kept blurring and despite the tremendous pain of emptiness I felt, I desperately wanted to go to sleep. I managed to keep my composure, however, and made it to my destination. Even with the handicap tags on my truck, the short walk from it to the store felt like torture. I was wheezing by the time Id taken my cart and started pushing it around the front of the store. There was no way Id use one of the motorized scooters they provide. I dont have much pride left, but I still have enough to keep walking until I simply cant anymore. I bought whatever was closest to the doors and the cash registers. I didnt care what. I had a bagboy help me load up my car with the three carriages-worth of food Id purchased. The gratitude I felt for him and his colleague as they pushed and emptied the carts was immeasurable and I emptied my wallet of cash to thank them. I went home. My entire trip was spent eating. When I got back I turned off the car and sat in the dark, illuminated only by the dim light of my garage. I frantically worked to tear away wrapping and packaging. Sleeves of crackers disappeared down my throat. Partially-frozen TV dinners of meatloaf and mashed potatoes followed. I sobbed as I pushed it all into my mouth, hacking and coughing crumbs onto my steering wheel and dashboard. Only when my stomach pain was nearly unbearable did my feeling of emptiness dip to a level where I had the strength to get out of the garage. It took nearly an hour to empty my car of the colossal amount of food Id purchased. I crashed onto my couch, gasping for air as stars twirled before my eyes. A few minutes later, after Id regained some semblance of wherewithal, I felt an acute pain in my right shoulder. When I reached around with my left hand to investigate, I yelped as I sliced into my index finger. Some asshole had left a juice glass on the arm of the couch and it had fallen off onto the cushion. That same asshole recently fell onto that couch without looking and shattered the glass with his shoulder. I went into the bathroom. A familiar, morbidly-obese man greeted me in my full-length mirror. I turned to look at the damage to my shoulder. Chunks of glass were embedded in my shirt and skin underneath. Despite my disgust with myself and the pain in my shoulder and stomach and finger, I felt slightly better and less empty. Sighing, I pulled off my shirt and felt shards of glass detach from my shoulder and plink onto the ground. The feeling of emptiness reemerged like the head of a hydra. I began to cry. I stared into the mirror at my shirtless self, watching the blood trickle from my shoulder in thin rivulets which were stopped by the absorbent waistband of my sweatpants. I wrapped my arms around my body in desperation. The cheap facsimile of an embrace only served to make me sob harder. I released the hold and started plucking the remaining glass from my shoulder. Each removed shard made the feeling of empty loneliness intensify. The feeling became overwhelming when I pulled out the last piece. I stared at the shard through my tears with curiosity. Then, without a hint of critical thought, I pushed the shard back into my shoulder. A tiny fraction of my emptiness evaporated. A fraction comparable to an entire stomach-full of food. Time seemed to freeze as I methodically broke the larger shards of glass Id removed from my shoulder into hairpin-sized needles. I carefully plunged them into my skin. By the time Id finished with the glass, there was a semicircle of crystalline splinters decorating my upper arm. Warmth radiated out from the shards and suffused through the surrounding skin. The pain was miniscule compared to the emptiness the glass had helped eliminate. With more energy than Id been able to muster since my experience with my wifes apparition this afternoon, I hurried to my office to find my stapler. I assumed I was losing my mind. A healthy person doesnt see his dead wife. A healthy person doesnt ameliorate emptiness through food and glass. But what I felt was real to me. It was as real as the floor on which I stood and as real as the air filling my lungs as I gasped with the tiny pinpricks of relief I felt as each staple entered my arm. I emptied the stapler into myself, refilled it four times, and was left looking for something new to use. I went to the garage and over to Brynns work area. She would frame pictures and paintings for her friends and family and even set up an Etsy shop before her diagnosis. Everything was right where shed left it. An hour went by as I pushed tiny, sharp framing nails into my other arm. These hurt much more than the glass or the staples. I arranged them in a tight, sleeve-like grid. Pain radiated throughout the limb, but I persisted. A few times, when I blinked, I saw Brynn. Right now, its the morning after the events Ive described. I havent slept. My night was spent finding ways to fill that void inside me. Up to this point, Ive been successful. Every part of me hurts, though. Everything, from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet, is covered; punctured and impaled in some way. Most of it is broken glass from the various glasses and china sets in the kitchen. Some of it is from my wifes old sewing box. Each of my fingertips have long pins originating right underneath the nail and terminating somewhere up toward the knuckles in my hands. Its hard to type with straight fingers. Im standing at my computer desk because my back and buttocks are caked with broken glass and the pain is too intense when I sit down. Even though the bottoms of my feet are equally encrusted, I have less sensation in them because of my underlying medical conditions. When I walk, I can feel the thicker and longer chunks of glass carving at the bone. The part I find most difficult to deal with are the series of thumbtacks in my soft palate. They are constantly causing me agonizing discomfort and they itch just as much as they hurt. I cant help but to trace my tongue around them which just draws my attention to their presence even more. The constant, caustic undulations of searing pain are only tempered by brief, infinitesimally-soft brushes of warmth. I know its my wife trying to touch me again. But the feeling of emptiness within me is still there, albeit far less intense than yesterday. Ignoring it just makes it worse. I have to keep going, but I dont have any space left. I know what Im going to do next, and probably finally, and thats okay. In a few minutes, Ill be slashing open my belly and thighs and arms and stuffing them with the entire pantrys-worth of our splintered wedding china. I cant live with this feeling of emptiness. If doing this is what it takes to give me some relief and peace of mind and body, its what needs to happen. I have the knife honed and ready. As I write this, I know with 100% certainty Im not in my right mind. Ive long since stopped caring. And with that, Im going to go now. Whether or not this plan works, at the end of it all, I might have the opportunity to be with Brynn again. That's worth more than anything in this life."
s_2638_683,Imma go kill myself now
s_2679_133,"That's great!! I have a long list of books I'd like to read, but my concentration is terrible. Kudos to you for this huge accomplishment. P.S. I'm so jealous! Just sayin'. :-)"
s_2107_79,i started crying as soon as he started to cry.
s_2417_69,rant I think Im depressed Im not sure if I am just seem to loose all motivation to do anything and I get upset at everything. Im consumed by such negative thoughts and I just cant help but feel more sad about myself. i feel like my bf is pulling away and he doesnt seem to return my affections anymore and it just brings me down more. I feel like Im drowning with my thoughts and I just dont feel happy I just feel like everyone has an agenda against me.
s_697_81,Its shit not being able to sleep. I literally feel stupid most nights because it just feels like I dont know how. Its been years now that Ive had issues with sleep but lately its been severely terrible. I hardly sleep. No matter how physically tired and sleepy I am my mind wont shut up. So every night I just kind of lay there
s_258_584,"I had anorexia for almost 10 years and by the 3rd year, at my lowest weight , I wanted to recover but was too sick to try . Mentally, I was very ill , weak, with low blood pressure , low iron and developing psychosis. I dormed at the time and began thinking my roommates were stealing my food; I had terrible bouts of mood swings and violent outbursts . I began isolating myself from everyone- didnt want to be seen and my mom would cry the few times a year shed see me. It was a hell hole when I look back . I had no friends for 8 years thanks to starving myself like 0 people to hang out with or talk to. Anyways, as the years rolled by, my health just continued to decline. Fears grew that I was developing lupus , early arthritis, I contracted stomach ulcers and alopecia from restricting and idk, just one day last year, I had a nervous breakdown which lasted about 2 months. I saw my life for what it really was and absolutely hated myself for torturing myself the way I did. I realized it was sick for a 26 year old to still wear kids clothes. My ED stopped making sense to me; it stopped making me happy and I understood I was going to die at an early age if I continued on. So last year I began my recovery and had a huge relapse because I didnt up my intake enough to reach extreme hunger but Ive been back on track since May, began taking Abilify which lessened my obsessive thoughts, went up by a Jean size and am close but not too close to being weight restored . Currently Im no longer borderline underweight . Instead I am borderline borderline underweight which makes me feel confident that I am leaving anorexia behind."
s_411_1189,"David Accam's Snapchat shows him cleaning out his locker with a message saying ""Bye Chicago, until next time"". I am very sad."
s_577_1186,"I have missed this post entirely! Admittedly I am less actively these days but I am still very interested. Next time when you got an AMA, I will be there!"
s_2402_914,"Not very well, I constanly want to kill myself."
s_2449_137,"I could kill myself right now and no one would know why My name would appear somewhere on the news and my friends would go 'omg but he was so happy', and watching their temporary surprise is probably the only thing worth living for. I'd love to see what they have to say, if any one them would blame themselves and if she would ever know. Perhaps at some point some of my journals and fantasies would be found and she would remember me. That's the other thing worth living for."
s_891_1026,"Private School Being the only Korean in a private school had some good parts and some bad. My mother never really wanted to send me to a private school, but I happened to be the only kid in my previous schools history to be expelled in the first grade. This was completely ironic to me because I was the one that was getting teased the whole entire time. My mother never really got to angry about the whole incident. She actually understood that I was only standing up to myself. She also knew that I was not as good with the English language as the other kids; which made me an immediate target for teasing. Every time I would stutter the other kids would laugh at me and copy me, and every day during recess I would be completely ignored. I held my tongue and contained my temper until a kid copied what I did in an overly exaggerated manner. After five minutes of him copying me I finally snapped and kicked the boy out of his chair. I was taken out of class and sat in the principals office till my mother came. They told her I showed a type of violence they do not wish to see here ever again, and told her to just go ahead and grab my stuff as I will not be welcomed back again. After we left, my mother took me to the park and told me to go play. I was on the swings when I noticed my mother on the park bench crying silently into her hands. Even at the age of six I understood how terrible my mother must feel. She brought me to America when I was just three months old and had high dreams for us. When we came she had a very good grasp of the English language, but when I was 3 she had a stroke. While she recovered I stayed with my aunt and uncle, but they mostly monitored over my mother. After she recovered around 6 months later she was back to normal, but suffered from memory loss. She learned Korean again, but never relearned English. I knew while she was crying to herself because she blamed herself for placing me in such a difficult position, but I have never placed any sort of blame on her. As her body started to shake and she fell into a loud sob I jumped out of the swings and started walking up to my mother. Before I got to her; another lady walked up to her and her two kids ran up to me. They asked me if I wanted to play with them, and when I noticed that my mother was now talking to their mother I nodded my head at them. They were telling me all about the school they went to. How everyone was really close, and they would really love to have me there. I shook my head at them and mumbled I dont think so and started swinging again. They kept trying to talk to me, but I didnt want them to start teasing me if I stuttered so I just silently stared at them when they talked to me and either shook or nodded my head. After about an hour their mother got off of the bench and hugged my mom. The lady called for her children and they immediately left after waving to me. My mother wiped the tears off of her face and walked up to me. She hugged me when I met her halfway and told me she found another school I can go to. We went to the school the next day. Three Cross Christian Academy was displayed proudly on the school and we walked inside. We were greeted by an overly excited lady. She nearly choked me out with the hug she gave me, and grabbed my shoulder as she led us to the principals office. The first thing I noticed about the office was how absolutely clean and organized everything was. A couple of minutes later the principal walked in and gave me a very firm handshake. He looked at my mother and told her We will accept your son into our school, but please know that we do not tolerate any kind of violence or harsh language. Meaning no hitting of any kind or cursing. You will not use our Lords name in vain and you will study diligently so that you may be blessed in your coming years. Understood? He stared at both of us until we both nodded. He smiled and sat back down. My mother wrote a check that covered the rest of the school year and I was sent to my first class. When I walked in the whole class stared at me and the teacher asked me to stand beside her. She asked me to introduce myself and before I could object she stepped behind me and gave me a little nudge. For the next two minutes I tried to put together sentences that made sense without stuttering, but it was just not possible for me. I tripped up on words and paused 4 times while I tried to think of the word. After I finished I went back to my seat, and wished the day was over. After the bell rang signifying the end of class I gathered my books and followed the teacher to my next class. While on the way a cheeky kid walked up to me and started to babble on and on about how cool it was I spoke another language. Throughout all of our classes he talked about how I should teach him Korean. During lunch he kept talking to me about how much he likes to play Age of Empires and that I should come over some time so we could have a sleep over. We became fast friends after that. His name was Mike and he was always there to stand up for me whenever I was bullied or teased by others. All the way to our senior year of high school we remained close, and we always made time for each other. We would spend every weekend with each other playing video games, eating snacks, and watching movies when we were younger to going to parties, driving around town, and going to the mall when I turned 16. Everything seemed to finally be perfect. I finally got my first girlfriend who I thought I was in love with, my mother was proud of me, I had great grades, and Mike and I were accepted into the same college. I was not only completely fluent in English; I received the best scores in my class in both papers and English exams. Everything was finally going well for me until my senior year. The day started off normal enough, but when I walked into the third period class with Mike I felt a chill run down my spine. I looked to my right and saw that the teacher was staring me down with a look of pure hatred. Panicking a little inside I rushed to my seat and Mike looked at me strangely. He asked me why I was so pale, and I told him to look at the teacher. As soon as he looked up she was smiling and waving to the students coming in. When we were all seated she told us that her name was Ms. Jameson. She walked around the class as she taught our lesson, but every time she passed my desk she would either subtly kick me in the leg or pinch me on the arm. The first couple of times I glared at her, but she would completely ignore my stares. When the class ended I stayed in the classroom until everyone left. As soon as everyone left I asked her what the hell was wrong with her. She looked at me for a second and then started to pray. I couldnt hear what she was saying, but she kept glancing up at me in between her prayer. I told my mother about it, but she just told me it was just from the stress of being in my last year of college. I know my mother had already been through too much so I just nodded my head and just decided to put up with it. It wasnt easy but I managed to deal with it for the next two months, but when I found a picture in my locker of when I was 6 with you will find forgiveness through death written in red over my body I completely lost it. I walked into Ms. Jamesons class and slammed the picture in front of her. She stared at the picture for a while, but just sat there and remained quiet. After a second she whispered There are no cameras here and proceeded to stare at the picture in silence. There was no question that she was the one who put the picture in my locker, but I knew no one would believe me. The principal already didnt like me as he still thought of me as a violent little kid, and I knew if I left this school I would be out of options. I was only months away from graduating and so I just stuck it out. Whenever I found a photo in my locker I just threw it away, and when Ms. Jameson made her jabs or stared me down I started to jab her back and stare her down as well. I didnt care anymore. I just wanted to be done with the year and go off to college with Mike. It was the same shit until the last month of my senior year. Mike started to ignore me and start spending more and more time with Ms. Jameson. I dont know why, but whenever I tried to hang out with him after school he would just tell me he was busy as he walked into her classroom. When I would try to listen in all I heard was a weird sort of chant between the two of them. I tried to joke around with Mike and say What up teacher lover but he would just shove me off and ignore me. Mike intentionally ignored me till today; two weeks before graduation. At the age of 18, Mike was found in his room with a knife in his chest. His mother called me that day and told me the news in between sobs, and asked if I had any idea what happened. I heard a ringing in my ear as I told her I had no idea. She let out a little sigh and just hung up the phone. Even though we had fallen apart in the last few weeks I was filled with more sadness than I have ever felt in my life. I sat on my bed as I felt a wave of tears come down my face. I tried to hold back from crying, but I fell into a deep sob. I wanted to stop, but I kept getting hit with the memories of the time we spent together. Four hours later I heard someone knock on the door. Two cops were standing outside and asked me if they could come inside and get a couple of answers from me. I nodded and pointed towards the couch in the living room. They walked in and sat down. Once I sat on the recliner the first cop extended out his hand and told me his name was Officer Grant. I shook his hand and the second officer just nodded his head at me. After a second of silence Officer Grant asked me how well I knew Mike and if he has been acting strange in the last couple days. I told him we had been close for over ten years now and that the past two weeks he had been acting distant around me. Officer Grant stared at me for a couple of seconds and asked if I had ever received any strange photos of myself. I told him that I started receiving old pictures of me with you will find forgiveness through death written on it. The other cop started to jot down on his notebook. Confused, I asked Officer Grant what was going on. He took a deep breath, and said I cant really tell you, but I feel like you should know. Your friend Mike was holding on to two things when we found him. A photo of the two of you playing on the computer, and over your body unforgivable was written on it. He left a note for you, and before they took it away for evidence I wrote it on my notepad. He handed me his notepad and I felt the blood drain from my face once I finished reading it. All fucking year long dude. All you talked about was how we were going out of town for college. You never asked me if I wanted to go. You didnt care. I wanted to stay. I told you several times that I wanted to stay. All you did was ignore what I wanted. This is your fault. Youre going to be found dead tomorrow because you cant fucking listen. Ms. Jameson? The one you thought was evil and hated you? Dont worry I hated her too. An hour before school started I tried leaving a little message in your locker. I panicked when I saw that bitch walking down the hall so I tried to put it back in my pocket. I dropped it. Can you believe it? She saw it and she tried to give you a couple of warnings. Luckily youre too full of yourself to understand what she was trying to do. I know you wont read this letter, but Ill make sure its between the knife and your heart. Maybe you will get the message then. Have a final good night. I handed the notepad back to him, and sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. I heard the officers getting up and leaving. I wanted to get up and just resume the day like nothing happened, but I feel as if I am glued to the couch. Im still sitting on the couch, but I decided to pass along a message to you guys. Know who your friends are, and know who your enemies are. I feel bad for ignoring Mikes complaints, but I now feel far worse about the way I treated [Ms. Jameson] (<URL>)."
s_1294_205,"I wasn't trying to kill myself, and I don't think I'm fat and ugly because I'm fat, and if I only weigh less I'll be better looking. I was just feeling like shit, so I didn't eat for a while, and then once a week passed and I was feeling OK again, I was waiting for the ""I'm hungry"" signal again to eat, but it never came. Hence 19 days with no food, and ending up in the hospital for seizures. All my step mom, (that is basically my mother since she and my father raised me since I was 2), was ""Why do you always have to learn things the the hardest way possible, I have tried to tell you numerous times about the importance of eating, but no, you had to go get yourself hospitalized for starvation."" That didn't make me feel very good. Another friend besides the one who threatened to tell her mom told me that she has a room that I can move into and if she needs to treat me like one of her kids, she will. :( I never realized how many people cared what I do, even if I did it completely unintentionally, and didn't intend on killing myself through starvation. It's not like I intended on passing out in the middle of WM and being hauled off to the hospital. My truck was still in the WM parking lot when I was discharged, and I left the windows down and the keys in the ignition. Yes, my truck was still there, (but the interior was wet because it rained). Thank dog my seats are leather, I was just able to wipe it off and sit down to drive it away. I don't think I have anorexia, but yes, I have 2 appointments with mental health professionals, an appointment with my physician, and now I have to take Keppra, and make an appointment with a neurologist because I had a seizure. :( One good thing about Keppra, my hand tremors have stopped, and now I don't have dry heaves in the morning when I wake up, so it is doing some good. :)"
s_3095_509,I also have pictures that arent filtered? Im actually pretty confident in myself
s_962_142,I feel kinda really sad
s_2334_225,"Probably going to cut my dose in an attempt to reduce side effects but retain the benefits. Has this worked for anyone? I began taking 10 mg daily back in October for anxiety. It has definitely worked on my anxiety, and I dont feel anxious at all anymore. However, I have experienced considerable emotional blunting, to the point where I sometimes feel I have no emotions, and dont care to have them, even though I know thats wrong. I also have had the standard frustrating sexual side effects. My plan is to start cutting my 10mg pills in half and start taking 5 mg a day instead. I am hoping this will keep my anxiety at bay, while helping me to feel more like myself, and a human with emotions, feelings, passions. My primary care provider has signed off on this. Im just hoping to hear from anyone else that has been through this what their experience was like. Did it work? Are there drawbacks I havent considered, or things I should watch out for, specifically?"
s_2035_91,"My emotions have definitely come to the surface since quitting! I cry more easily for one. Before when I felt triggered by something I would immediately go smoke and it kind of stuffed my feelings down and relieved the anxiety I was feeling. Now, I have the urge to get up to smoke and I kind of dont know what to do with myself. I usually just get up and go out on the porch and get some sun and fresh air. Thats where I used to smoke so I have this urge to go out there. I have been feeling down on and off. But I just started back on Welbutrin which affects dopamine levels and is also used to quit smoking (under the name Zyban). So I have that helping me through this. Hopefully your depression is short lived and your brain will heal its pathways soon. Ive read on here that a lot of ppl seem to struggle for about 3 months. But everyone is different. Have you tried some light exercise, like taking walks out in the sun and fresh air? Exercise is supposedly just as effective as antidepressants! Some ppl really need the meds too though. I have started walking and Ive improved my diet. That definitely makes me feel better. Maybe try that and be patient with yourself. Your Dopamine pathways are screwed up right now but it should get better with time. If it doesnt, maybe talk to your doctor about an antidepressant even if its just short term to help you through this."
s_131_822,I am very depressed also.
s_1741_59,"I don't see any change in my energy or mood. Would love some insights This is Day 22/23 I guess. I've tried and failed NoFap quite a few times in the last 3 years since I got to know about this sub. Longest streak before this was 9 days. I'm a lot more determined this time. I see a lot of posts here where people say ""Day 10. Feeling the energy"" or ""Day 15. I see the change"" and I don't feel the same way. I have depression and my energy used to be quite low as it is before I started. It hasn't increased even a bit. 22 days man. I was hoping to see some change. I'm not complaining. Just seeking advice. Am I the only person here who is failing to see change in myself? Or am I just not trying hard enough? How important is it to exercise alongside NoFap? Should I start jogging? Bit of rambling here. But I'd like some advice or stories if you've experienced this"
s_2024_442,'Im scared okay' I'm scared okay. I'm at uni in my second year all my friends are in their third (i had to stay and repeat second year while they all went on to third year) I'm lonely really lonely what am i gonna do next year i'm gonna have nobody i'm gonna have nobody of the people i've grown to love over uni. i feel bad for feeling like this is a problem people have actual problems in the world but this feels like a huge pit in my stomach. why would they keep in touch with me i feel like I'm recyclable like all the other friends from school have have faded away despite efforts am i not worth keeping ? do they not love me as much as i love them ? when everyone else gets married and gets girlfriends why would i be included in the wedding party ? I'm scared of the future okay i still feel like i kid and i love that about myself i feel hopelessly alone like nobody seems to understand this might sound cliche but fuck it. I'm scared and alone everything about this scares me and in this society you're not a man if you talk about your feelings. i wear my heart on my sleeve yeah i cry i'm emotional but fuck it maybe i should bottle it. Thanks for reading this. even more thanks if it made sense.
s_762_0,"I am going through the same. Some days are good and some days are unbearable to get through without that person by my side.. but you have to realize if someone wants you , loves you and cares about you theyll come to you and if they dont come back then theres your answer everything I do, and every place I go reminds me of my ex so its really hard. I dont do the things that I used to love either. Im going to therapy to better myself and help my depression. Dont ever feel like getting help is a bad thing. Sometimes things are to hard to carry ALONE."
s_1581_626,I'm also clinically depressed. I have it more or less under control with meds but sometimes I wish I didn't exist. Let's hope better days will come soon and light will appear in the fog.
s_1478_365,"France voted on Sunday in the first round of a bitterly fought presidential election that could define the future of the European Union, and is sure to be seen as a gauge of the anti-establishment anger that has brought upsets in Western politics. Over 50,000 police and 7,000 soldiers backed by rapid response units patrolled streets three days after a suspected Islamist gunman shot dead a policeman and wounded two others in the heart of the capital, Paris. Voters will decide whether to back a pro-EU centrist newcomer, a scandal-ridden veteran conservative who wants to slash public expenditure, a far-left eurosceptic admirer of Fidel Castro, or a far-right nationalist who, as France's first woman president, would shut borders and ditch the euro. The outcome will show whether the populist tide that saw Britain vote to leave the EU and Donald Trump elected president of the United States is still rising, or starting to ebb. But it also provides a choice between radically different recipes for reviving a listless economy that lags its neighbors, and where almost a quarter of under-25s have no job. A high level of indecision added to the nervousness. Hanan Fanidi, a 33-year-old financial project manager, was still unsure as she arrived at a polling station in Paris's 18th arrondissement. ""I don't believe in anyone, actually. I haven't arrived at any candidate in particular who could advance things,"" she said. "" I'm very, very pessimistic."" Despite fears that broad disillusionment with politics could keep voters away, the early turnout, in fair weather nationwide, was marginally up on the last election, in 2012. Emmanuel Macron, 39, a centrist ex-banker who set up his party just a year ago, is the opinion polls' favorite to win the first round and then beat far-right National Front leader Marine Le Pen in the two-person runoff on May 7."
s_852_229,"How exactly do you sleep for 6-7 hours straight and how do I avoid waking up too early ? I've been like this for a long time now wherein I sleep at around 9 or 10pm, hoping to wake up early in the morning at around 7-8pm, then all of a sudden I wake up at 12 or 2am in the morning feeling groggy and now I cant get back bed. As soon as my grogginess fades away I then become unable to feel tired thus here I am fully awake not knowing how to sleep. I rarely get like 6-7 hours of sleep and at this point I may think I have a medical condition like insomnia but I don't want to self-diagnose ."
s_1551_330,How do you gain acceptance? Ive tried meditation but I just become restless as hell
s_2434_365,"Im so tired So, all today and yesterday, Ive been sniffling, snorting, tounge clicking and hitting myself, and its all making me so tired and light headed. Im trying to distract myself by watching videos, but they wont stop. I feel so exhausted and all I wanna do is work on my math work since its all due monday, but Im so distracted by my tics that I sometimes just cant type correctly and I hit my keyboard and stuff. I wanna try my best, but Im so exhausted."
s_2464_412,This had me crying
s_2638_1047,Don't know whether to be happy or sad
s_2625_161,"I've dealt with anxiety for most of my life, including panic attacks. Exercise helps immensely with anxiety, especially cardio. I also really like yoga because stretching seems to help. Meditation is extremely effective for anxiety and stress, even if you don't know what you're doing. Absolute beginners who meditate 20 minutes a day experienced improvements in anxiety! Also, I tend to experience a lot of anxiety right before and during my period. Try to reduce any stress in your life. Chat with a friend about your anxiety - I'm sure they've experienced something similar. You don't need to deal with anxiety alone. The good news is, panic attacks don't present you with any immediate danger. Basically your body is prepping you for a flight or fight response. You might feel like you can't breathe, your heart might race, and you might feel hot/flushed, but those are temporary physical symptoms. If I have a panic attack I remind myself that it's temporary."
s_1937_161,"Extreme Weight Gain? Anyone else gain a fuck ton of weight on Lexapro? Ive been on 20 mg for a little over a year and Ive gained 80lbs. Im hungry ALL DAY LONG. I eat really healthy, but when you eat every hour the calories really add up no matter what you eat. I think it also does something weird to my blood sugar because when I go more than a couple hours without eating I get all faint and hangry. I also wake up several times at night and have to eat to go back to sleep. None of this happened when I wasnt taking Lexapro. I HAVE to be on this medicine to function, but FUCK Im sick of feeling like Im wearing a fat suit. Anyone else have this experience?"
s_897_1281,"Suggestions on games for the wife Hey everyone! Right now we are looking to trade in our xbox 360 and wii, all of our hardware and games for what will most likely be a PS4. I want to be able to play Last of Us and if it ever happens, all of the older Final Fantasy games from PS1/2. My wife wants to play Kingdom Hearts. But beyond that, well, I'll be blunt, my wife is a PITA to find games for. She likes RPGs and only RPGs. They have to be active combat without any kind of menu system (so final fantasy games are all out). She tried FFVII and determined that from that point, she didn't enjoy games with passive combat and menu systems. She is obsessed with the Kingdom Hearts games. She tried Fable 3 and while she didn't mind the gameplay, she couldn't get into the story (TBH, I can't fault her, the story doesn't get really decent until it is nearly over). She gets freaked out by the idea of things jumping out at her, to the point where she wouldn't even play Portal because she had already convinced herself that something was going to ""jump out and try to get her."" Anything FPS for the most part is out. She won't try fighting games, and she has no interest in sports/racing. But yet every night she sits there looking at steam trying to find something to play. She's just too damn fickle to try anything because she's convinced herself she doesn't enjoy it. I just don't know what to do. Every time I suggest something it seems like there's some reason it doesn't suit her. So, any suggestions for people who like Kingdom Hearts-esque RPGs?"
s_2434_441,"I usually tic a lot on a normal day unless Im very calm or theres family at my house. My tics are worse when Im cold, Im stressed out, when Im angry, and Im not focusing on anything"
s_1160_129,"That's literally my condition except I'm 1 year and ongoing in the situation. At first I tried to concentrate, and realised I can't, so I gave up. However in recent weeks I notice that it's easier for me to study again. So give yourself some time, take the rest you need and things might just change"
s_2107_98,i watch movies and listen to music and read books. i used to be very active but can no longer be.
s_1574_260,I usually sleep a few hours soon as I'm off and a few right before my shift. I can't just get a good 8 hour or normal sleep pattern.
s_2118_413,The earphone jack on my phone doesn't work anymore I want to die
s_796_92,"It is partly my fault that this is happening to me. At some point in time I've been so pre-occupied about my mental health issues that instead of talking business, I mostly bombarded my customers with postings and blogs about my struggles. I suppose from those articles where I talked about not wanting to confront people in any situations, certain enterprising individuals realized that I will not go after them if they steal my art. I don't go after individuals anymore but, to borrow words from my daughter, I get ""triggered"" when a business with an actual physical location does it to me."
s_2679_86,"Thank you so much. Your descriptions sound so similar to my experiences. I can't describe how much better that makes me feel. I'm really glad that you were able to learn a lot from therapy. I've spent years in therapy and I just can't seem to get it. I feel like I'm reluctant to change or face my issues. I just don't have the energy to put work into it. Being present, existing in this life requires so much of my energy that most of the time there's little left for anything else."
s_2904_522,"I have this problem too. I can't have an orgasm while having sex with a girl. I have to masturbate. When in home, watching porn and masturbating, there is no problem. But this seriously makes my relationships very awkward and frustrating. I lost my libido. I used to be obssesed about sex, but since I take my medication, I totally forgot about sex. I rarely masturbate. I quit with some of my medication, antipsychotics to be precise (paliperidone, I think) and I have recovered some of the libido. Now I masturbate more regularly. I haven't been with a girl since I quit the pills, though, so I don't know if I'm still fixed."
s_2890_305,"Not Your Average Sibling Rivalry I think when you're a twin you hear a lot more about this supposed twin telepathy. Not because it actually happens to you though, but because everyone *asks* if it does. Well, I don't think it did. As many times as we were pestered by other kids wondering if we knew each other's thoughts, we really never did. Well not more than the average person could know anyways. My name is Ashe, and my twin sister is named Willow. Not wanting to be part of the trend of rhyming names, or names with the same first letter, our parents decided we should be trees. They definitely aren't the worst names we could have ended up with, I've heard rumors that our grandmother suggested to name us Beverly and Bailey. I think I'd die of embarrassment if I had to deal with my family calling me Bev all the time. It just seems like a *mom* name, you know? Anyways, that's besides the point here. Willow and I were always kind of competitive with each other, even though I seemed to always be on the losing end. Actually, it's not even that *I* was competitive with her, it was that I wasn't allowed to be good at anything unless she could be too. She had to be better. She wanted all of the attention. I played soccer? She played it better. I got excellent grades? She'd take my work and either copy it, or pass it off as her own. There was no getting ahead of her. Sure, I knew I was slightly smarter than her, but being in the same classes didn't help. Her being everyone's favorite didn't help either. I wasn't exactly jealous, but I felt constantly disappointed in myself. Everyone overlooked me. We may have looked identical, but everyone could tell the difference. Being better at everything made Willow stand out next to me. When we were sixteen things changed for a short time. We went to a party together, and that night I think I realized that my twin sister was truly *evil.* More than just sibling rivalry, she had to hate me. It hasn't been long enough for me to be entirely comfortable talking about the whole situation, but I'll do what I can. We were going to a party together, the kind you have to sneak out of your window while your parents sleep to attend. For once my sister wanted me to outshine her. She helped me get dressed, and put on my makeup. She made me look beautiful, while she dressed casually. It's like we had switched places in the mirror. I think that's what she wanted. We snuck out just after 11, a friends car was waiting by the road to take us a few streets over for the party. When we got there Willows ex kept pestering us. He stalked us around the party, and while Willow left me to go talk to other people, he somehow became convinced that I was her. At this point I was a few too many drinks in, and I thought it would be funny to play along. I kissed him, and by the time we ended up in a room alone I realized that I had made a mistake. I tried again to tell him that I really wasn't her, but he told me he didn't care anymore. It was enough that I looked like her. Things went downhill from there, and when I saw Willow peek her head into the room, I thought she had come to save me. She didn't though, she watched it all happen, and snuck away before he left me there broken. It fucked me up. I didn't know who to tell, my sister watched it all happen and never told a soul, so I did the same. I kept it quiet, I started writing my feelings in a journal, and I became incredibly depressed. It got to the point where my parents actually became concerned, and they took me to a therapist. Though I wasn't ready to discuss what happened the therapist seemed to help somewhat, it gave me an unbiased person to talk to. With my parents so concerned for me, I was actually getting more attention than Willow for once. It didn't last long. Within a month things went downhill. Willow seemed to decide that if I got to be depressed, then so did she. She stole my journal, told our parents that it was hers, and they panicked. They couldn't have their favorite daughter turning into the sad little thing I had become. She stole my tragedy, openly talked about what her ex had done to *her.* I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone the truth, I still wasn't ready to admit what he did to me. She didn't hold back though, and things only became worse. She started lying about me, she told everyone that I saw it happen and did nothing to help. The entire world was against me, and my parents pulled me out of therapy. They decided that my sadness was actually guilt over not helping my sister, and I didn't deserve to feel better. Life became hell, there was no escape. I got a new journal, I sunk deeper into my feelings, I started mutilating myself just so that I would feel something that wasn't *sadness.* No one cared at all. Though I had lived my entire life in my sister's shadow, this was worse. I was a pariah. Nothing I did couldn't somehow be turned against me. Being upset wasn't okay, none of my problems existed, I was branded the liar who was trying to steal Willows problems. They found out I was hurting myself, it must have been because Willow was doing it. Everything I did *had* to be because of her. Everyone believed that I was the one trying to steal her life, her pain. I couldn't be my own person. This went on until after we turned 18. The school year was almost over, it was all almost over. I'd be able to leave, finally be free. I could make my own life, I could finally be my own person. I couldn't handle the past though, I needed to do something so that I wouldn't be followed by it. I could only think of one option, I plotted out how I would do it for weeks. It took me awhile to get the courage, but I was going to kill myself. My entire existence mattered to no one, everyone was disgusted by what Willow had convinced them to think about me. When our parents found the body, they also found the journal. The journal with *Ashe* written across the front. It didn't contain much, just apologies and the details of a planned suicide. They seemed devastated, but at the same time relieved. Their shameful daughter had done the world a favor. They held me while I cried, everything would be different now. They never believed in all the issues that Ashe had, they never understood that her pain had been stolen and used against her. They would never know. I never wanted my sister's life, I wanted my own life. Now I'm the only one around to live for both of us. She took my life in spite, but she didn't realize how much of me she took by stealing my death. My name was Ashe, but my sister stole that last part of me when she collapsed on the bathroom floor holding my journal. I finally have my life back, everyone knows what happened to me. Everyone knows how hard my life was, and saw the pain I suffered through. Now everyone calls me Willow. [HF](<URL>)"
s_3075_133,"I feel like I'm having a meltdown, I'm breaking down more crying and angry outbursts. I don't want to see anyone but I'm so lonely and paranoid I can't trust anyone, no one understands that when I get asked what's wrong I literally don't have a reason to be like this I want it to stop."
s_2640_37,i cried a lot when i was younger but now due to testosterone and bad side effects from past ssri prescriptions i'm physically unable until i suddenly break down at something small. the last time i really cried and it wasn't just a few tears was when my now-boyfriend nearly died in january.
s_2292_195,"Dad: I'm sorry I don't have a job. I'm sorry I can't always clean the house in the timeliest of manners. For the most part, I'm too busy trying not to have a complete mental breakdown. As far as my psychological/emotional needs, I have almost nothing right now, and you know this. My doctor diagnosed me with severe depression and anxiety over two years ago, and she and I have made close to no progress since then at fighting it. I know your family comes from the South originally, so you probably grew up being told that depression and other psychological illnesses aren't ""real,"" and that people who claim to have them are making excuses for being weak. That's not the case. Doctors get paid to know things like this-- please listen to what they say. I know I have luxuries-- I live alone in a house that you own, and you don't charge me rent. You pay my bills. You even treat me to things I don't need. Thanks to you, I have an Xbox 360, an Xbox One, and more games than I know what to do with. But you also know that there's a lot I don't have. My only emotional caregiver, your first wife and my biological mother, passed away when I was 13. I never got over it, and I don't know if you have or haven't, but you know how close I was to her, so you can imagine the emotional plunge that I took when I lost her 13 years ago. Eventually, around five years ago, I became close to my older cousin, and he and I pretty much became best friends. He was such a positive person that it was almost impossible to be depressed around him. We were as close as brothers. He died in a car accident two years ago. He was your brother's son, and you're very close to all of your siblings, so I know you understand how I feel about losing him. It's almost identical to what I went through when mom passed away. Despite having the two most positive emotional influences in my life ripped away from me, I tried to stay positive. I tried to do the right thing. My grades slipped when I was a teenager, so I never graduated high school, but I still applied for and attended the local community college. The work was far more difficult, if not tedious, than I had anticipated, and I felt overwhelmed. I told you this, and you understood and suggested that I withdraw until I was ready to maybe try again. I thank you for that. After that, one of my friends (and his girlfriend) moved in with me in the house I'm in now. They were both psychology majors, so they actually understood my problems, and they were fun to be around. They helped mitigate my emotional problems. Then, a misunderstanding (it had nothing to do with the girl-- don't worry) caused a falling out a little over a year ago. He and I haven't spoken since. As you can see, every source of emotional comfort that I've had is being taken away from me. I don't believe in God, and I know you don't like that, but at the same time, I can't help but feel as if I'm being picked on. Right now, as I've said, with the three aforementioned people being taken away from me in one way or another, I have no emotional support from anyone. My health insurance plan ran out recently, and the process to apply for a new plan is taking far longer than either of us expected (however, when I did have insurance, you made sure that I had all my prescription medications and was able to see my doctor regularly, and I owe you a lot for that). In the present day, as of right now, I'm bordering on a massive panic attack everyday. I feel like crying 24 hours a day, even when doing things that I enjoy (which is sometimes, counterintuitively, a major chore). I don't have any friends. I never leave the house. I have no money. I have nothing to purge the emotional turmoil I endure on a daily basis. I sleep at night like most people do, and I sleep periodically during the day because it's the only way I know to escape the inevitable depression and anxiety I go through at all times. I can only handle it for so many hours at a time. I know I have you. And I appreciate everything you do for me. You do everything that you can. But you and I both know that you're not a nurturer. I don't hold that against you, either, just to be clear. That was what mom did for me, while you and I had fun doing typical father-son things, and we still do. We had a blast watching the Super Bowl three weeks ago and casually talking trash to one another, along with my uncles and cousins. I value those times with you-- please don't think otherwise. The problem is that I've tried to explain my emotional issues to you, and you don't seem to understand. You don't get how I can have all day, everyday, to myself and not get anything constructive done around the house on a consistent basis. I've tried to explain this to you in the best way I can think to put it: Video games are probably my favorite hobby, and, as I mentioned in passing earlier, it's sometimes a chore to turn on one of my consoles and play a game and have fun. __ It's difficult for me to do things that I *enjoy*.__ Imagine how hard it is for me to do things that I *hate* doing, like cleaning, or looking for a job, or working, or doing schoolwork. I love you. You do far more than you have to for me, even if you do have a short temper at times and seem to be stubborn about my emotional problems. I've always considered this to be something that can't be said until you're in a situation that calls for it, but I know with almost no doubt that I would die for you. I would step in front of a bullet to keep you from being shot. I owe you my life. It's that simple. I just want you to try a little harder to understand what's wrong with me and why. I know that you can't be for me what my mother was-- no one can do everything. But I do need help. Professional help. And once I get that help, hopefully, I'll be ""cured"" of my depression and anxiety. Once that happens, I'll likely be a far more productive person, and I'll be able to function much better than I do now. I'll clean the house regularly. I'll go to school. I'll shower everyday. I'll get a job. I'll pay rent and pay my own bills. I just need you to be patient until I become healthy enough to get to that point. I can't explain how much that would mean to me. I hope you understand my plight. Or perhaps I'm being unfair; I feel as if I should keep an open mind since I'm asking you to do the same. __Maybe we should let /r/depression be the judge of whether or not I receive too much and give too little. Let them opine on the possibility that maybe I'm asking too much of you. Feel free to post your thoughts, Redditors. I won't take offense to anything. I already feel nearly worthless.__ If I am, I sincerely apologize, and I'll do whatever I can to fix it. Once again, I love you, and I know you love me as well. But not only do I love you, I *need* you. I need your support to pull myself from this abyss of depression and into the life of a functional adult. Thanks for everything, dad. I won't ever be able to repay you, but I know I'll try once I get healthy."
s_2890_89,"This Job Has Given Me More Than Just Money *Where do you see yourself in five years?* Happy maybe, or dead. It's a question I've been asked a lot, and I have never been quite sure how to answer it. There are things I *want* to do, there is so much of life I haven't experienced. Yet I couldn't pinpoint what to do. Often enough I feel entirely at a loss for what to do with myself, I mean, what's the point? Here I am at 19, working in perhaps the strangest and most secretive hotel ever to exist, because I really needed for there to be a point. I needed a way out of the life I'd found myself stuck in. Four years ago was when an abusive man made me realize my only option. I had to run. I had a friend who I'd known since elementary school who was several years older than me, lived in the U.S, and was already engaged with a baby on the way. They were just scraping by themselves since they were both barely 20, but they knew the extent of what I was living with and offered me a hideaway. It was the end of my freshman year of highschool, and I told my father about plans to *visit* some friends over the summer. He seemed to be fine with having me gone, but the weeks leading up to my departure were some of the worst. I used all the money I had left from babysitting to buy a bus ticket-- which was a small sum, since that's what happens when your father borrows your money for beer-- and packed my bags days before I was set to leave. The morning of my trip my father woke me up at 6am. I had to be out of the house and in the car within five minutes if I wanted to leave, he was not in a good mood. We drove at 90(Km) on a street that I believe was 30. I think we hit 140 on the highway. By 6:30 we were at the truck stop where the bus would be picking me up. Usually a 45 minute drive at the least. When I got out of the car, he peeled out of the parking lot, causing bystanders to stare. It was nearly four hours til my bus would arrive, I had no spare money to buy food from the truck stop, nor any food with me, and I sat at a picnic bench outside and waited with my single suitcase for hours. Thankfully my phone was working, and I spent the time texting my friends to tell them I'd see them in a few weeks. Those texts changed into goodbyes later when I was across the border and safe. I got on the bus and travelled to the biggest city in the country, where I met with my friend, Emily. She was a dual citizen, and planned to drive me from this city to her house. We got in the car and drove, stopping at the border to identify ourselves. Being under 16 I didn't need a passport to cross, but a birth certificate. They also asked if I had permission from my parents, since my friend was obviously not old enough to be my guardian. I actually had managed to get my father to drunkenly sign a note I'd typed up to give myself permission to go for a few weeks; He assumed it was a school form and didn't read it. We got across and back to Emilys house in a few hours of relative peace. I was finally in a place where my father couldn't follow due to his criminal past. Money was often tight, I couldn't work because I had no social security, and no one would pay me under the table within a reasonable distance. I had no car or license, and couldn't get one. Emily attended a local community college and her fiance worked, but it was just barely enough to cover the bills and cost of her classes. The process of becoming a citizen took awhile for her, she was lucky that she came here when she was older and had a better paying job before coming. Emily had a nice chunk in her savings by the time she crossed over, and it still took her over a year to become a citizen. I've been here for nearly five years now, I'll be twenty pretty soon. We've hardly got anything saved towards paying for my citizenship, and I constantly feel guilty that I can't help get things moving. Since I've been here they had their first baby, and now Emily is pregnant with their third. Since both of them are still trying to lead normal lives, I've been helping to take care of their kids and the house. Emily has managed to continue to go to school, though taking certain semesters off to care for her kids has definitely slowed down the already long process of nursing school. Her fiance, Jeremy, has been working a steady job all this time. It pays well, but with a growing family things can be pretty rough at times. I finished out high school here, because schools can't decline you based on citizenship apparently. I have a high school diploma, from an American school. That helped me not feel so useless for my first couple of years here, but since money is too tight for me to attend college as well I've been doing a lot of nothing for nearly two years. I just help around the house, spend time with Emily and Jeremy, and help with the kids. I've always wished I could do more. That's why yesterday when I got a text from a number in the same area code as me, that said there was a way that I could earn money without needing a social security number, I was more excited than wary. I assumed it was a friend who I had given my number to on Facebook while discussing my job search, and didn't bother asking who I was talking to. I figured I could do just about any job that would help towards becoming a citizen, finally attending college, and becoming someone real within the world. They ended up sending me an email to contact. I didn't hesitate to send in an email containing my nearly empty resume. I received a reply within minutes, asking me to detail my current financial situation and my reasoning for wanting the job. I explained how I had been told that I could be hired here without a Social Security number, and how I couldn't find anywhere else that would do so. I also told him why I needed the money, and vaguely described my living situation. He seemed very kind in his reply, letting me know that he could have someone pick me up to bring me in for a final interview, after I filled out their application form. I quickly filled out the form that was sent to me, slightly confused by some of the questions it contained. He gave another hasty reply, seeming pleased with my application he offered to have an employee come pick me up at three that afternoon to have our final interview by 5pm. He gave me some details of the job they wanted me for, and I was pleased that it seemed to be simple work. $40 an hour to do housekeeping for a hotel. $10 from my pay would be taken each week for the cost of having someone from the hotel driving me to and from work. All further details would be discussed during the interview. Emily arrived home at two, and I excitedly told her about the job offering. One of the emails told me that I should not reveal the name of the hotel that was hiring me to anyone, because they didn't want it being known that they would pay under the table. I told Emily this, and she didn't pester to know the exact details of my employment. At 3:10pm a truck pulled up in front of the house, a good choice to fit into the middle-of-nowhere area we lived. I told Emily I'd see her later in the evening, and set outside to introduce myself to the stranger in the car. I've never been the outgoing type, but I've been told that I'm always a really friendly person. I don't have many friends, but I've met many people and all of those first impressions seem to have gone well. The driver introduced himself as Tyler, an employee at the hotel, and he apologized for being late. He explained that he didn't drive a lot for the hotel, and he'd never picked up a passenger like me. He didn't ask me many questions, and didn't seem to be aware of the reason he was picking me up. Will you be driving me everyday? I asked him to break to silence of the drive. Everyday? He questioned back. For work? I'm going in for an interview, I told him. Ohhh, the word was dragged out, as though it was dispelling whatever other reason he had thought he was escorting me to the hotel, If we're on the same shift probably, your house is on the way from mine. I debated asking him what the he initially thought he was escorting me for, but instead I let the car fall into another moment of silence. I've never been the best at keeping a conversation going, but his voice soon filled the vehicle again. If you get the job, I can tell you it's an experience like no other. I can't tell you much, since you're not an employee yet, but Mister Smith will go over all the details with you, I'm sure, he paused to smile at me for a moment, Any idea what position you'll be working? Housekeeping, I replied distractedly, wondering about what sort of hotel this could be to provide experiences worth talking about, while being unable to talk about them. Ugh, he made a face of exaggerated displeasure, Better you than me, I couldn't clean up after strangers. I'd find it tedious. I shrugged, It's pretty much all I'm good at. His face was in an expression of apology when he glanced at me, I didn't mean anything bad by that, it's valid work. I smiled at him, not wanting him to worry over a comment that I honestly hadn't taken any offence with, I know, I was just saying. That's why it's a great job for me. He seemed relieved that he hadn't come off as rude, and we spent the rest of the ride cycling in between small talk and silence. It was pleasant, I felt comfortable and relatively confident about the job. Meaning that I didn't really feel confident whatsoever, but I'd choke those feelings down and attempt not to let my nervousness shine through during the interview. Tyler pulled up in front of the hotel, and I was astounded that such grandeur could exist in the heavily wooded area. The forest that surrounded must have been ancient, because the trees that filled it were taller than I could have ever imagined any trees to be. Somehow the hotel looked natural among the towering foliage, as though it was meant to be in this place. It was beautiful and remote, a perfect getaway. I felt at peace as I got out of the car, *almost* enough to ease my nerves over the rapidly incoming interview. Tyler directed me to head into the lobby and speak to someone at the front desk while he parked the truck with the other hotel vehicles. I entered the hotel to find a lobby as immaculate as the exterior, the hotel was truly extravagant, and I could almost understand why the application featured such odd personal questions. It brought the large paycheck into perspective as well, and defeated any wariness that may have been held deep within me. There was a girl with long, raven-colored hair, and shocking blue eyes who stood behind the front desk. Welcome to the Good Shade, I'm Dawn, how can I help you? She greeted cheerfully as I arrived at the desk. I squinted for a moment at her name tag, which quite obviously did not say Dawn. That was the only opportunity I've had so far to look at her name tag, but if I recall correctly it said *Alphaea I.C*. I'm not sure what that means, but it didn't really look like a name to me, so I dismissed it as some sort of labelling the hotel has for staff. I returned her smile, I'm here to see Mister Smith about a position here. She gasped excitedly, I knew you'd be here soon, right this way, he's waiting for you. With a glee filled smile she gestured to a door behind the front desk. I wasn't sure what she was so excited about, but as I walked towards the door I could swear that she *sniffed* me. I found myself slightly concerned about the mental health of the girl at the front desk, and wondered vaguely if people like her were the reason that the application contained such odd questions. A tall man sat behind a dark wood desk, and introduced himself as Mister Smith. He was the owner and manager of the hotel. He created all the rules and guidelines for the staff and guests, and he oversaw all that went on inside the hotel. He also personally dealt with all applications for employment, which apparently didn't happen often. Before any conversation about the position took place, I had to sign an agreement to keep everything confidential. Honestly, I wouldn't even know that posting here was an option if I hadn't seen [Tyler's post](<URL>) on here a while back. I've been reading the awful tales of the darkest moments in the lives of people for many years, but I never thought I'd be one of the people posting. That's besides the point though, I have to finish detailing what I experienced last night. After signing the form we began discussing the job. I'd be doing regular hotel housekeeping-- for the most part. My job would not always be a regular one, there was the possibility of my assistance being needed with guests, or I may end up requested by a guest for certain actions. I was fine with all of that. Some of the actions detailed deep within the contract seemed odd, but it was all well within what was worth it for the job and the money. This was the only job I could get, and it honestly didn't seem like a bad one. We arranged to have 30% of my pay deposited directly into Jeremy's account, after a quick phone call with him to confirm this was acceptable. That portion would be what I used to pay back Emily and Jeremy for housing me for free over the years. 60% would be deposited into a savings account that the hotel had provided me with. Another contract had to be signed there, but all Mister Smith did was make a phone call in private afterwards. The final ten percent would be put into a chequing account that came with the savings. That was the money I planned to spend freely, whether I used it to buy clothes, groceries, or help out with the bills when things were tight at home. My savings would first be going towards citizenship, then getting a cheap place for myself. I plan to stop being a burden on my friends as soon as I can, they have a growing family and shouldn't also have to deal with a nearly 20 year old woman living off of them. Once the apartment was in place and I had enough in my savings, I'd be able to work towards college. Living on my own would have me spending a portion of my cheque on rent, but if I manage to keep this job that won't be an issue. This job paid more than well enough for me to finally get myself out into the world. I suppose that I should have been concerned when he asked me to confirm my genetic background. When I replied that I was fairly certain that I was 100% human, he seemed skeptical. He squinted at me for a moment, and it made me nervous. * Why on Earth would you question whether I'm human or not?* Then things got really strange, he asked me if I would mind consenting to a blood test. I agreed, but it definitely freaked me out. I kept reminding myself that this was my only option. By the end of the meeting I had agreed to the requirements of the job, had my blood taken, and signed what may have been dozens of forms. I also found out that my first shift had already begun, and I would be spending my night at the hotel. I called Emily from the phone in the office to let her know that I wouldn't be returning until morning. I was about to leave the office when the girl from the front desk entered the room. She held out a plastic card to me, and I was shocked when I realized what it was. A debit card from a bank local to my area, it had my name on it and looked exactly like Emily's card from the same bank. Mister Smith assured me that this was a fully functional card, and that he had pulled some strings with a friend at the bank to create an account for me. As long as I was employed with the hotel they would be sure that I would face no consequences from possessing an American account before becoming a citizen, and Mister Smith would be glad to have his friend add my social security information once I become a citizen, so creating a new account and transferring the money would not be necessary in the future. I was beyond grateful as I left the office, for the job, the bank account, and the understanding that my boss seemed to express over my confusing situation. I was told to speak to Dawn so that she could give me the items I'd need to begin my shift. When I was once again facing the front desk, both Dawn and Tyler stood behind it smiling. Did you get the job? Tyler asked me. I smiled, I did actually, Mister Smith told me I needed to speak to Dawn before I get to work. That's great-- He stopped short to stare intently at the computer screen in front of him for a brief moment, --Sorry, I've been requested to a room. Are you coming, Dawn? She shook her head, I have to help our new friend meet with Rose, but-- she squinted at the screen for a moment, -- It's just my stupid brother, you'll be fine, she rolled her eyes as she stepped away from the counter. Tyler shrugged and walked off towards several sets of elevators, and I watched as he produced a key card and swiped it through a card reader before pressing the call button. As he got into the elevator I looked back to Dawn, who was pulling a piece of paper from a filing cabinet, then she walked back towards me. Read this, let me know if you have any questions, she stated simply. I took the paper and looked it over, some of it brought my concern back into full force. *Welcome to housekeeping at the Good Shade,*
*Your position is a key role in our hotel, as we are well known for how immaculately kept such a large establishment remains constantly. On request you may be provided with a brief map of the property, which explains some of the regulations about guests located in different areas of the hotel.* *Certain rooms require specific towels, sheets, blankets, soaps, etcetera. Please refer to the head of our housekeeping crew for a list of rooms and their requirements.* *At this point, you have already signed various contracts restricting you from speaking about any aspect of your job. This was included in the documents you signed, but we must reiterate that in the case of finding items that you consider to be suspicious, dangerous, illegal, evidence in a crime, or remnants of a crime, you are not to react as you would in a normal situation.* *Emergency services are unable to be contacted from or enter our establishment. We have medical staff who can deal with any wounded person(s) found in a room. We also have teams to deal with any person(s) found who may be deceased. Please refrain from touching any person(s), whether they be living or deceased. This also includes any other guests, and generally the other employees.* *If accidental contact is made at any point, please refer to the front desk for treatment of any negative side effects. Other than the items above, housekeeping here is relatively the same as everywhere else. Please remember that we take pride in immaculately clean rooms. Please refer to the head of housekeeping for concerns about anything found while working, and further details about the job.* *- A. Smith, Owner Manager*
I think it's hardly a question that anyone who read such a thing would be fairly concerned about what kind of hotel this truly was. I need the money though, and on the bright side, at least if I find a dead body I don't have to be the one to remove it. After reviewing that sentence, I realize that my life may have hit it's utter low. Once I get enough money though, I could put this all behind me. I have a chance to quit in three months according to the contract, and there were consequences that I didn't want to learn about for quitting before you had worked the allotted time. This place seems to be incredibly serious about the whole secrecy thing, and I think this subreddit might be part of the reason that the employees can handle holding it in around the rest of the world. I didn't bother asking Dawn any questions at that moment, I just steeled myself for the night ahead of me. She pulled out a key card and handed it to me with a smile. Head to floor U1, and Rose should be in the laundry room waiting for you. That's the storage floor. The strange label of the floor gave me pause. She smiled as though this was a charmingly innocent question that was often brought up, Mister Smith always forgets to tell the new employees, we actually have 50 underground floors. When we send you to a room with the label U in front of the number, it's underground. I nodded, I honestly had guessed as much when I'd first heard her announce the floor I needed to go to, but it was still a little surprising to know for a fact that this hotel has underground floors. What could have possibly motivated someone to build a hotel that had its majority of rooms below the earth? I thanked Dawn for her assistance, and headed towards the elevators. There was a handwritten message on the back of the housekeeping paper that I hadn't noticed until then, it said *Use the second elevator *
I glanced back towards Dawn and she gave me a small smile and wave, before turning to type something into the computer. I arrived in front of the second elevator, and I swiped the card I held through the reader as I had seen Tyler do. The call button lit up when I pressed it, and the elevator opened before me in less than a minute. I got to the correctly labelled floor and was in the laundry room too fast to calm my nerves about my first shift. There was a woman in there, maybe in her mid twenties. She was beautiful, tall and curvy, with honey-blonde hair spilling down to her waist. She turned to me as I approached, and she gave me a smile that warmed her ice-blue eyes. She straightened as she took in my appearance, and her sudden change in expression made it seem as though she sensed something was amiss. That expression quickly changed back though, and she introduced herself as Rose, the head of housekeeping. For my first night all she wanted me to do was two of the underground floors. Approximately ten rooms on each of those floors had been vacated earlier in the day and needed to be arranged for new guests. Around twenty rooms in one shift didn't sound bad. She told me which rooms needed certain things, and gave me a list that carefully inventoried every item that needed to be present in each room that I cleaned. She also explained to me the hotel protocol for cleaning various things, including blood. After all of the preparation I was finally ready to get to work. It was more than twenty rooms, but I didn't complain. I took a cleaning cart and headed off to the floor below me to begin. That floor consisted of mostly regular housekeeping tasks. I took my time, not wanting to be left with nothing to do halfway through my shift. After nearly three hours I finished 12 rooms on that floor. They were all pretty basic, each room was the same. I moved on to the next floor with around six hours left in the ten hour shift. The first few rooms went simply, I made beds and restocked towels. I vacuumed, swept, mopped, and wiped things down. As I progressed down the hallway I heard strange noises coming from occupied rooms. It ranged from crying, to screaming, to what seemed like some intense sexual activity. From one room I heard what sounded like chanting in a foreign language. All the strange noises put me slightly on edge, and I tried to push through the 15 rooms on the floor that I was assigned to clean. I got to the last room and found blood splatter in the shower, fresh enough to still be pooling in the tub. The sight made me dizzy, and I had to take a moment to catch my breath. It freaked me out, I wasn't sure how fast blood dried but I felt like I had narrowly missed seeing criminal activity. I cleaned out the tub using the methods Rose had described to me, and finished that room faster than any other. Or at least, I thought I did. I walked out into the hallway and noticed a dried smear on the wall that hadn't been there before, assuming it was blood I quickly cleaned it. I wasn't about to get in trouble because a murderous guest was running rampant through the hotel. I was afraid though, what if the person who caused this bloodshed was still nearby? I strode hastily towards the elevator with my cart in tow. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding when I met Rose back in the laundry room. What took you so long? She asked as I put away the cart. I was confused by the question, I still had hours left in my shift. I looked at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see that my shift had ended thirty minutes prior. Somehow I had lost a lot of time. I explained to her what I found while cleaning, but she seemed unconcerned. She dismissed me for the day, and I went up to the lobby to find Tyler. He informed me that his shift didn't end for over an hour, but I could nap in the office on the couch while Mister Smith was gone. I took the offer, and awoke later to have Tyler escort me to the truck we had arrived in. As we got in the vehicle I noticed his nametag, *Tyler Stephens, H.S.*
What does H.S mean? Is that some sort of hotel label? I pointed towards the tag. He glanced at it and smiled, Kind of a hotel thing, they put your species on your nametag to help the guests. I was surprised. H.S is quite obviously homosapien, but what did Dawn's nametag mean? Was I truly working with people who weren't human? I didn't know how to respond with anything more intelligent than, *Oh, okay.* Tyler had just started the engine when I saw Dawn come running from the hotel. She stopped at my window and gestured for me to open it, and once it was down she handed me a small piece of metal. She told me it was my nametag, and I thanked her for delivering it. We drove away, and I found myself staring at the nametag. I wondered if I would fit in as an employee at this hotel. Perhaps most importantly, I'm wondering if the people here can answer a question while I'm employed. A question that Tyler had no clue how to answer on the drive. A question about what their blood test revealed, because I'm not sure why my nametag reads *Isabelle Lawrence, N.F.*
The last thing Tyler said to me before he dropped me off was this, You're going to see a lot of things that you've never expected, imagined, or wanted to see. If you think you've had a weird night already, you haven't seen anything yet. I had trouble going to sleep as the sun rose, I took the time to think about my life. *Where do you see yourself in five years?* How can I know, when I'm not even sure if I'm human anymore? -----
[HF](<URL>)"
s_1404_585,"I'm unstable, my mental but also physical health are going downhill. I'm afraid of ending up worse. I'm very unstable. My mental health has been getting worse and I'm not myself anymore. My personality seems to change every day. Every day I become a different person. I hurt my friends and don't care about their feelings. I hurt myself and I don't care. I'm thinking about death everyday and all I do is wasting my days by doing nothing good. One day I'm desperate for friends, the other day I tell everyone to fuck off because I'm not interested in friendship anymore. One day I feel like superman and have plans for my future, the other day I'm deep down and thinking about death. One day I'm sane, the other day I hurt my friends so bad that they block me and never speak to me again. I can hurt people with no reason and I won't even feel guilty. I became this terrible monster who hurts himself and others and doesn't care about it. I'm not the old me anymore. I'm also not the yesterday me or the tomorrow me. I don't understand why I seem to be a million persons in one body. I don't know how long I can continue to live without deceiving, confusing, hurting myself and other people."
s_676_471,I have lost my appetite as well and I've been on a lightly salted popcorn diet. This snack arrangement looks amazing though. A+ for the rainbow goldfish. I hope your appetite comes back.
s_2890_216,"My Beautiful Roses As a child I lived in Turkey. Since growing up and moving to the United States I have realized that many people know nothing of the country. It was not the best of places, nor the worst of places, but that isn't important. The one spectacular part about that country was that it is pretty much the only place in the world where you can find black roses. I adored the flower, I found them so deeply beautiful. It wasn't long before I decided to grow them around my own home. I lived alone with my father, and the first time that the flowers bloomed outside our home he was unhappy. He thought they were hideous. I ignored his displeasure, these flowers were the one thing in the world that brought me joy. My father was a cruel man, he was not good at raising a daughter on his own. I did the housework exclusively, and I made all the meals. He told me that it was my place. He let me tend to my flowers as long as I was obedient. I did my best to do everything correctly, but more often than not I faced severe punishment over miniscule errors. There were many times when I was punished for nothing at all. My father bore a hatred for the world that I never knew the source of, and as I grew older I realized that he also bore a hatred for women. He took those hatreds out on me, I became both servant and wife. I was entirely miserable, but so very afraid. My only solace was tending to my roses. They were the last beautiful thing in my life at that point. One day when I neared the age of 15 I met a strange woman on my trip to get food for our dinner. She looked like a gypsy, and she fell in step with me as I walked. Child, I know you have been hurt, She looked me over from head to toe, Hurt quite deeply. I nodded. Your roses can help you, and this, She held out a bundle of strange looking flowers, Witch hazel. I took the bundle hesitantly, What for? A few of these, and one rose under the bed, each night. Save yourself, She abruptly turned and walked away. I didn't understand, but decided to try it just to see what would happen. That night after father was done with me and had fallen asleep, I snuck into his room and placed the plants under his bed. I did so every day for a week. Each morning he complained of being sicker, and he seemed to grow too weak to bother punishing me. On the seventh day he didn't arise from his bed. I found him in a puddle of his own blood, it had seemingly spewed from every orifice. My pain was over. I've made sure to always grow black roses since then. They truly are the most amazing flower."
s_2585_118,"What the hell is happening to my body? So I have been lurking here for a few weeks and I officially went keto Sunday morning. I ate 3 eggs with cheeses for breakfast, a cup of plain chobani with cut up veggies for lunch, dinner was a couple of chicken breasts with fried eggplants (olive oil). I havent been getting crazy with macros or anything but my goal was staying under 20 net carbs and I did. I woke up this morning super tired, and I have had anxiety in the pit of my stomach until about noontime. ( Same breakfast and lunch btw). I was also super irritable yesterday before dinner as well at around 11am today. This is really weird for me as I dont normally have these emotions and Im wondering if this is all in my head or if I am in some kind of withdrawal. I used to eat rice, bread, pasta or potatoes at least once a day in a hige portion so it makes sense that something is missing but does it happen this quickly?"
s_2642_30,"Depends on the sport, personally i feel pretty energetic fasted with a belly full of black coffee and handle my 5 mile runs pretty well. I do get pretty fatigued in the last couple of hours of my fasting window though..."
s_301_619,honestly idk why I even bet. I just get stressed and pissed off all fuckin day. I used to enjoy watching football
s_1939_347,"Dude, I'm pretty much the same. However, I HAVE had relationships and sexual encounters before, but right now they don't interest me. It's not like there are harrowing memories which are causing me to distance myself from intimacy, it's just due to the fact that I can't be bothered, in all honesty. Some will say it's weird and unnatural, but it's my body and I don't feel obliged to share it with anyone."
s_1404_60,"I hate my life it only brings me neverending suffering, I want to die I dont know how it feels to be happy or even enjoy something, because the last time I enjoyed anything was so long ago that I dont remember it. My life is full of frustration, stress, anger, anxiety, depression, mental issues, physical health also getting alot worse. Every day feels like a 24 hours long workday. Life only brings me suffering, not joy. I have been suffering like this for many years and I'm fucking done with it, i just want to die. It doesnt matter what I do. I just cant enjoy anything. I cannot enjoy my favorite food, I cannot enjoy playing videogames, I cannot enjoy going outside, I hate life and there is no more fun in life for me. My energy is depleted and I will probably never enjoy life anymore. Do not tell me to go to a therapist. All they do is talking and trying to convince me they can magically solve all my problems by talking endlessly about them. I tried it for 3 years and it is a scam. Talking doesnt help at all"
s_708_315,"My dog is trained to comfort me when I have anxiety, be a physical barrier between me and people when I get panicky, and provide an excuse to leave a situation i.e. he needs to go potty/eat/drink. He is my dog that I trained (14 years in the animal care industry) but when my doctor saw what a huge help he provided to me she provided the documents to define him as a service animal. [ADA Service Dog Info](<URL>)"
s_2415_615,"Even little jokes hurt me. Even tiny little jokes hurt me. I feel no one loves me. I feel worthless, hopeless. I don't want to live. I don't want to exist. Won't commit suicide but everything stings. People don't love me, it stings. People don't appreciate me, it stings."
s_1351_120,"Sleep deprivation is the *worst.* Mine 2.5 yo is a shit sleeper and is just now sleeping in chunks larger than 2 hrs. It really is torturous. A couple things help me: - i watched ted talks on sleep. It really helped me cultivate self compassion. I am being tortured. I do have diminished capacity. I have a legit reason to let housework slide or whatever else. - i instituted quiet time with the toddler. We started with 5 mins and worked up to an hour. Its an hour of bim by himself in his playroom while I let my head empty out a bit. I do not do chores. I do not work. I actively fuck around on my phone amd watch trash tv. - i have a safeword with my partner when he is home. When he is home, i can say it and he knows i need to just walk away for ten mins or so. It sucks so much. Hugs and coffee, friend. We will survive."
s_3008_185,"thank you for the advice. I'm prepared for the worst, but the waiting is what's hurting. That's why a part of me just want to end it right now so I don't have to suffer anymore. I know I'll regret it if I end it right now without giving her a chance to come to a decision though. I'm fighting with myself to not make a stupid decision, and it's tearing me apart."
s_1692_755,"Recently Opened Documents How well do you pay attention to your list of recently opened documents? Last night, when tracking down a file I had worked on, I spotted an unfamiliar filename on the list: ryansjournal.docx. Privacy be dammed, I read it. I wish I hadnt. A whole day has gone by, and I still cannot shake the goose bumps: the content wasdisturbing, to say the least. Take a look:
**Entry 1 - July 2nd, 2014:**
*My name is Ryan and Im 11 years old. Im writing this journal for a time capsule Im burying. Hi, older me! Hope you made it as a firefighter!* *Me and mom moved this week. Theres a lot of boxes everywhere. I dont like it here. Its really small. I miss my big backyard with the pool and all the oak trees. I used to climb them and pretend I was king of the forest. There are no trees here. Just a fence and a bit of grass. I dont know anyone here. The worst is that its REALLY creepy at night. The shadows in my room look like theyre about to reach out and grab me. Im too old for a nightlight so I snuck a flashlight under my pillow so mom wont ask questions.* My intention in moving was simple: shorten my commute to work and lower my bills. I was wasting so much money heating up an entire house, when a two-bedroom apartment did the job. The apartment is in the basement, so it requires less AC in the summer and less heating in the winter. As an added bonus, the place is pitch black at night. The master bedroom in my old house overlooked a street lamp. Not even the blackest of curtains could keep the light from shining in and, as a result, I had trouble falling asleep. I sleep like a baby in this apartment. **Entry 2 July 16th, 2014:**
*Mom finished unpacking. She must have forgotten a few boxes, because I dont have any toys to play with. I still dont have any friends because mom wont let me go to the park. She said Ill make new friends when school starts. I think shes just too lazy to show me the way to the park. This sucks! I hate it here! I hate HER! Shes the WORST! I wish I had someone to talk to! I want to go home! Every night, the shadows get closer and closer to my bed and I scare them away with my flashlight. Im afraid the batteries will die.* **Entry 3 July 30th, 2014:**
*Today, I made a new friend!!! His name is Deacon and he lives in my closet behind a super-secret door Im not supposed to tell mom about. Hes really fun. His favorite color is green, just like me! I hope me and Deacon will be friends forever. He likes all the same food as me and plays all the same games! Hes older and a little scary-looking, but I dont mind. He even told me he could protect me from the shadows at night.* **Entry 4 August 13th, 2014:**
*I asked mom if Deacon could have supper with us tonight, but she ignored me. She was on her computer again, looking at weird symbols all evening. I grabbed an extra plate of food after supper and took it to my room for Deacon. He loved the ground beef but didnt touch the peas. I cant blame him. Peas are gross!* I work as a Web Developer at a University, and August is our busiest time of the year. Its not unusual for me to have to do a bit of overtime in the weeks leading up to the start of the Fall semester. I suppose HTML code can look a lot like weird symbols to the untrained eye. I can read HTML like you would read a book. Its like my mind automatically renders the tags into their intended format. I suppose to others, it must be as foreign as sheet music is to me: I do not understand it and all I see are a bunch of dots on a half-dozen lines. **Entry 5 August 27th, 2014:**
*Mom still wont let me invite Deacon for supper, so I have to sneak food to him every night. She keeps telling me Deacon isnt real. She says Im too old to have an imaginary friend. I told her to go suck a turdsicle. She didnt like that. I was sent to my room. I hate her. Deacon is real! Hes my best friend! He even crawls into bed with me at night to protect me from the scary shadows in the room. He holds me so tight that I cant move sometimes. He says as long as were together were safe. I believe him. I see the shadows scurrying away and up the wall whenever he crawls over.* **Entry 6 September 24th, 2014:**
*Sorry I didnt write for a while. I started school and had SO MUCH homework. Mom wont let me on the computer unless Im done. 5th graders get a LOT of homework. By the time Im done, moms on her stupid websites and wont let me have my turn. Why cant we have two computers like a normal family?!!??!?! At least I have Deacon to talk to. Mom doesnt like it when she hears us talk. She says its not healthy to talk to myself. Shes a triple-stupid dumb-shake with a cherry on top! If shed just let him eat with us, shed see hes real.* A crudely drawn [MS Paint doodle](<URL>) was included with this entry. On it, I can make out Ryan with a tall, dark figure looming over him, holding his shoulders. The man has long, claw-like fingers, big dark holes for eyes, and a large gaping smiling mouth with sharp fangs. He seems to be looking at my cat, who is cowering in the corner of the room. **Entry 7 October 8th, 2014:**
*Deacon isnt happy. Mom found his hiding spot. She got rid of all his stuff!!! Hes hiding in the ceiling now. Theres a little crawl space where the air conditioner goes. Hes in there right now. I can hear him grunting. Hes so upset. Mom needs to apologize if she knows whats good for her.* I did find a little door in the walk-in closet. I opened it up and got a face full of dust. There were a few boxes of trinkets, which I assumed belonged to the apartments previous owners. I tossed them out. Who needs old rags, magazines, and worn shoes? I found the small storage space after hearing skittering noises in the walls. I wasnt sure if mice had gotten in, or if the apartment was crackling from the cold outside. I never dreamed I would find the perfect place to store winter apparel. I cleaned it up and filled it with coats and boots. **Entry 8 October 22nd, 2014:**
*Deacon couldnt come and protect me last night because mom left my bedroom door open. He said he doesnt want her to see us together. She might make him go away if she saw him and the shadows. I was so scared. I cried myself to sleep. I needed his big strong arms to protect me. I woke up in the middle of the night and saw shadows crawling towards me. They lifted from the floor and made squishy noises like they were made of slime putty. I screamed for my mom but she didnt come. One of the shadows got on the bed and I felt it crawling towards me. Threw my flashlight at it. It must have landed on the switch, because it lit up and the shadows disappeared under the bed.* I remember keeping the door open because the room smelled awful and desperately needed to be aired out. I always keep the door shut so at least one room is devoid of cat fur. I would have opened the window instead of the door, but it has been stuck since the move and no amount of force has managed to pry it loose. I had no choice but to leave the door open all day and overnight. I was pleasantly surprised that the cat did not even try to step foot inside. **Entry 9 November 5th, 2014:**
*Mom has been keeping my door open. Deacon is getting really angry with her. He says hes going to have to deal with her soon. I warned her Deacon was getting mad, but shes still insisting Deacon isnt real. Stupid stupid stupid. Deacon is watching.* That entry is the last one in the journal. If that wasnt creepy enoughheres the really weird thing: Im single and I live alone with my cat. I do not nor have I ever- had a child. I dont know what to say: maybe its a bad prank, but I checked the file properties and it was created in July and last updated on November 5th. I havent had houseguests since late October. My computer is not synched up to any device, nor does it have the capability to do so. I noticed the entries are typically written every other Wednesday, so I am curious to see if there will be a new one tomorrow. If there is, I will give you guys an update. **Update (November 19th, 2014):** I barely slept last night. I decided to check the journal before I went to work. I dont even know what to say. To say that I am horrified is putting it lightly. Here is the entry:
**Entry 10 November 19th, 2014:**
*Deacon is real and hes coming for you. Deacon is real and hes coming for you. Deacon is real and hes coming for youunless the shadows get you first.* I think I am going to stay at a motel tonight. **Update (November 24th, 2014):** I just wanted to give you guys an update. I think I am freaking myself out over nothing. Ever since I read the journal, I keep seeing things move around in the dead of night. Around 3:00 a.m. this morning, I got up to use the restroom and saw my cat standing in the kitchen. He walked towards his food bowl and I heard a familiar crunching sound. I left him alone and went back to bed. As I slipped under the covers, my foot grazed my cat's head and he gave me an insulted, half-asleep meowl. There's no way he ran past me from the kitchen into my room: the hallway is too narrow. I would have seen or felt him. I was probably just sleep-deprived and imagined seeing him in the kitchen. People asked to see the drawing I found in Ryan's journal. It has been uploaded: [Ryan's Drawing](<URL>)"
s_632_560,This time I actually believe I will become a multi millionaire. I've literally made the best financial decision of my life!! LFG see you on the moon when I'm rich bitches!!!!
s_676_541,I may try that because my appetite has been absolutely horrible. I only get hungry at a specific time and even then it is a hit or miss.
s_1483_10,"The thing that makes me happy is hanging out with my ex. Other than that, I play videogames, smoke weed, and watch tv. That's all I have energy for after work. I am also going to school full time, but failing at that. I've only ever had 2 dreams in life. One requires a PHD, the other one is being happily married with someone who loves me. Neither of those are likely at all. All of my hobbies that I used to enjoy cost money, which is something I don't have."
s_595_144,"Cuz, Don't have the constitution to kill myself!"
s_993_456,No nausea but I take it in night with dinner. Getting sleepy helps as I always have trouble sleeping anyways. I had restless legs for weeks.
s_1194_94,Yes technically my mom gave her away and i was planning to somehow get her back but the people that took her said she ended up running away. In the end its all my fault i should have tried harder for her not to give her away by like locking myself in a room with my cat but my idiotic disgusting dumb self didnt so i blame myself
s_1639_672,"Stopping birth control mid-pack 33F, 54, 160lbs, USA. Medications: Zoloft 50mg, Pantoprazole 40mg, new user of Isibloom. I am on my second week of Isibloom. My gynecologist wanted me to try hormonal birth control to see if it would help with painful periods (like really painful) and heavy bleeding. The good news is it did; I saw a noticeable improvement in my period, but I have had some horrible side effects. I have felt such terrible anxiety and depression symptoms today - mad, feeling unable to cope, etc. My eyes have been so dry and Ive had no libido whatsoever. Im to the point that I would rather suffer through my period than to feel like this all month long. I know its early, but the anxiety and depression isnt something I can tolerate. Can I just stop the pill?"
s_1732_4,"I can relate. I couldnt sleep because of the flashbacks which lead me into a deeper depression. During the day I would have intrusive thoughts. I felt like there was no hope. Its taken me a couple years to find the right mix but my current medications are below. I do have to add that therapy has helped. Both talk and EMDR. Effexor XR, Latuda, Prazosin all during the day Prazosin, Remeron at night Propranolol - as needed"
s_614_806,"I hate my life I hate my life I hate my life. All I do is assign blame over what a crappy set of circumstances I've put myself into, from my parents to myself to the society I live in. I don't know why assigning blame is so important to me, when I know I should just try to better myself, but it's easy to wallow, isn't it. And I hate myself for it."
s_2402_876,"It would help, but I'd still want to kill myself. My reason is mostly mental health."
s_2257_194,"Im not afraid of death anymore To clarify, I dont wanna die in a painful way. Its just Im not afraid of what would happen afterwards. I used to be really scared of afterlife and punishments for my sins after my death when I was growing up so I tried to never sin or do bad deeds. I dont have that concern anymore . Its not like I wanna go around killing people, its just Ive lost my concern of something being a sin or not. Maybe because of that, Im not afraid of dying anymore. I just wish it would be painless if it happens. Maybe theres heaven and hell, and maybe there arent, I dont care anymore. This world is already a hell for me. I cant remember a time where I felt ACTUAL happiness (not the kind when you feel when you eat a damn good meal or a good movie. Yeah those have become my usual doses of happiness. Im 25 yo and I dont have a girlfriend, never had one and I dont think Id get one in the future. I used to believe in love and soulmates and all those cliche but I know theyre just bs. I have commitment issues, I dont look good, Im not rich and not very smart and I dont have a stable career or future. So obviously no girl would wanna get stuck with me. Thats understandable. Human evolution has always been about the survival of the fittest. Imagine what would happen to the species of lions if the lionesses procreated with weaker males instead of the strongest ones? Maybe this way is good. Id never get married, so I could take care of my parents till their end of life and my sister till she starts earning for herself. And in 10-20 years after those happen, I could finally off myself. A lonely middle aged man commits suicide. I bet thats gonna be the heading out of the news piece. Or maybe there wouldnt be any news piece at all. The world has 7 billion already and would definitely be 9 in 20 years. One guy dead isnt gonna be news in the future. The world would go on. Maybe Id find the meaning of life after my death. You know, were teeny tiny dust particles in this gigantic universe. In the longer run , in a few billion years , nothing would matter. Earth might not even exist. But I have a family: my parents and sister, so I have to take care of them. Otherwise Id have already killed myself because I dont have much appetite for things in this world. The things that used to excite me arent the same for me anymore. Sometimes I feel like killing myself to see whats on the other side."
s_2578_30,"Thanks, this thread is really giving me hope, I've been experiencing dpdr for a bit less than a month, also weed induced, and it's terrifying. The symptoms only get more pronounced and it's really hard to ignore such things as extreme light sensitivity or numbness of the skin. Did you also experience pseudo-physical symptoms and how did you deal with them, did they pass? It's very frustrating to have a day where you definitely feel a bit better than yesterday, just to be back to ""normal"" the next day. At the start of every day questioning whether I feel better, whether I am less numb and every day being disappointed by it. I know that in the scope of others, I haven't been experiencing it for long but my biggest fear is that it won't go away. I don't care if it takes 9 months or 2 years but I just want to be sure that it does get better someday. My ambition really took a hit and right now it's difficult for me to focus on activities that I had fun doing before and now they just seem, don't know how to say, pointless. Of course that's stupid, because nothing is more pointless than to worry about oneself 24/7 when the mind's going at 100 mph. Just needed to vent a bit. Feel free to share your insights on these topics."
s_1897_77,"Its going to be mom, no dad. I kept telling myself repeatedly. I fidgeted and tried not to immediately see who was walking towards me. The footsteps were deafening. Please let it be mom.. I pleaded lightly. But I knew who was coming. The person I had actually hurt the most. To my surprise I found a younger man walking towards me. An adolescent, maybe 16 or 17. More attractive than me, wearing black jeans and a shirt I forgot I had. He smiled at me in a way that I never smile now. Naturally, and genuine. Ten years ago this was me. For what was either 2 seconds or 5 minutes we stared at each other. How do I explain myself? I just wanted to tell him how sorry I was. What I had done to this kid. But before I could speak he started. This was a point in life where I could have branched off into a dozen different directions. His demeanor was so casual. I was standing in silence, holding back tears. He didnt seem sad, or distraught. No, he wouldnt have been those things. You know, I was told in one of those alternate paths I could have been married, and working our dream job. How crazy is that? I dont know how my face reacted, but he tried to make me feel better ..but then again I could have also overdosed at 21 had you continued being friends with Eric Meyer. So it isnt so bad when you think about it he smirked. I hadnt heard that name in forever. Last I remembered, Eric and I had grown apart after high school for some reason. Why arent you upset at me? Im so sorry. I-I wanted better for you. I jumbled my words, and tried to say so much more but tears were streaming and my voice felt paralyzed. Hey dont cry. So you made some bad decisions? It isnt --
I fucked up so much. Wasted so much time. Alienated people who love you. Did things I could never take back. You know, things have never been the same with mom and dad? This isnt what I wanted for you, none of it. we both stood in silence and his demeanor changed to serious. He started softly, I might be standing here. But Im still a part of you. We did go through a lot. And Im sorry too for how things turned out. He stepped forward and hugged me and then whispered, but now its time to make things better. I was confused. What do you mean? What happens now? Arent I dead? Well *technically* no. Maybe half dead? Youre not conscious. But for whatever reason it's been decided its time for you to go back."" He paused, then started more seriously. ""Youve lost sight on the things I wanted, old man. Its time for you to finally take them. Old man? Im only 27! I wasnt sad or crying anymore. I understood now. Why I was here. This wasnt the end. Only the beginning. Younger me looked off into the distance. It was white everywhere. But far away on the horizon you could faintly see green mountains. I had never seen anything like it. I guess neither had he. He looked down at his feet. We'll be over there some day, just not now... But hey, dont forget about me, alright? And jeeze dont text and drive anymore, you asshole. He looked at me almost eagerly, clenching his fists. Ive seen a future for us. A good one. You can do it. Before I got the chance to reply I blacked out along with the sensation of falling. In a hazy dream I could feel the air and smells around me change. I felt heavy, sore, and dizzy. I could hear the sounds of the hospital. The beeping, muffled noises, nurses hurriedly walking. Was it just a dream? No, I knew it wasnt. I looked at a dry erase board with information scribbled on it. I studied it for a moment before seeing my name and pausing. I wont let you down this time. Not this time. Not again. Note: Sorry, I never write and so am not the best at it. But I had to write this one."
s_2974_110,"If you want to stick it out with your gym and you like your coaches, try another class time. I know different times have different ""vibes"". I left Crossfit for about 3 years and I ended up paying maybe $30 for a gym membership, but I never went. So instead of using all $145 of my crossfit membership, I was using $0 out of $30 of my regular gym membership. I wasnt really motivated to go bc I didnt want to come up with a program, I didnt like their group fitness classes, and I ended up ditzing around the weight room floor for an hour. I work a lot and make decisions all day. So I found I liked to go to a gym where they just tell me what to do. I also had signed up for bootcamp classes. Those I really liked. You make friends. But they end up being about the same price, if not more expensive, than Crossfit! But if you take a break from crossfit, you can always come back when your funds allow."
s_776_1064,I do hate myself but not that much
s_1175_1062,"Alrighterino, old Dildie is sharing a dark tale of his past to feel better about himself (x-post confesssion) This is something that happened to me awhile ago when I was 11. I figured writing it somewhere would help me feel better-ish. I'm just going to type it how it's written in my little manifesto of mine. Back in 2009, or 2008? I can't remember the year but it was awhile ago. I'm 17 and it happened when I was 11 for reference. When I was younger I took a grand trip to Canada, Alaska, and Seattle with my grandparents and my cousin. The cruise started from port in West Seattle (like by the Space Needle-ish and the cool stuff.) When we arrived in Seattle we decided to stay at a hotel for three days to visit the Dry Soda Company (I saw it on Food Network and was curious) the Space Needle, and, regretfully, the famous Pikes Place Market. Well, not regretfully as in going there was bad, but the market is a dark place in my mind because of my experience. We explored the lights and sounds, and shopped the first day. That was amazing. Seattle was, and is, a beautiful city with beautiful sights. Well, the ""supreme travel itinerary"" as my grandma dubbed it, was that we'd go to the Pikes Place market on the second day. Now, I don't know how it looks now, but when I visited there were a lot of homeless people. My grandparents told me not to pay any mind to them and to ignore them. This made me sad. A blemish of sorts, but it didn't deter me from the whole face of Seattle. I remember that whole morning as vivid as yesterday. I woke up, ignored the not-so-inviting continental breakfast and waited for my grandparents to finish. Hell, I even remember playing Yoshi's Island DS on my DS Lite. Well, they were always cheap. They finished up and we were off. As soon as we left the entrance we were greeted by a young women. She was obviously homeless by the tattered clothes and McDonalds cup with loose change in it. She smelled like pot and paint thinner. She looked hungry and distraught. Her haggard frame didn't take away from her still young looking face. She seemed to be in her late 20's or early 30's from what I recall. Anyways, I remember reaching for my pokemon themed wallet with the intent to give her change. As I went to rummage for a penny or two my grandpa scolded me and snatched the wallet from my hands. "" No test_subject8195"" he said, ""There's a reason she's like that."" ""There's a reason she's like that."" That stuck with me. It still sticks with me. Here was this human being reduced to the status of a stray dog, and he said that. I remember sighing, still shocked at his demeanor, and trailing behind them. I remember seeing a young gentlemen, probably a concierge or a bag boy, chase her off. "" I remember thinking. Fast forward through a sea of cardboard pleas, winos, and street performers and we reached our destination. Pikes Place Market. I remember splitting off from my grandparents and cousin while watching a young gentlemen toss a fish around and do other tricks. After he was finished I clapped, and turned around. My grandparents were nowhere to be found and I was caught in a sea of fish smell, patrons, and the sinking feeling that I was inevitably fucked. I scrambled through the crowd to no avail. The thick smog of bodies clouded my view, and my calls for help went unanswered. After breaking through the crowd I found a back alley. Scared, confused, and hoping for a break from the hustle and bustle I walked through the alley. Torn flyers, waste bins, and other arrangements of junk littered the passage. Then I heard it. The sound that haunts my dreams and my mind when it wanders. Gurgling. A low mumbling gurgle laced with coughs and the unmistakable sound of struggling. It sounded rather odd, but my adventurous 11 year old brain led me to the source. Oh how I wish it didn't. How I wish I would have just sauntered off or turned around. I walked over to a tipped over trashcan, and a dumpster. I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't like the movies. It wasn't slow, but it was silent. Save for the god awful gurgling and struggling. I even remember the picture on what I now assume was a craft beer bottle strewn along with the forgotten waste. There was a rabbit with a shit eating grin on its face giving a thumbs up. Soon after seeing that my eyes led me to the source of the sounds. It was a kneeling yet slumped, convulsing pile. Then she looked up. It was the homeless woman from earlier. I stumbled back and recoiled in fear. "" She must have knocked over the trash can and hurt herself"" I thought. The thought seems innocent now, and I wish it would have been the case. Her tattered black hoodie was caked in what appeared to be vomit and bodily fluids. It was still fresh because I remember the smell overwhelming me. Then I saw it, there was a needle jutting out of her arm. At the time I couldn't comprehend what it was, or why the woman was acting so strange. It's that innocence I wish I could still possess. But no, this woman was overdosing. She was dying. In front of my eyes, this woman was dying and I couldn't do jack shit to save her. I was a kid, and I was afraid. She looked up at me and her lips seemed to try to form words, but nothing happened. Merely shaking and more trembling before she fell and slumped even further on to the grimey alley ground. The look still haunts me, it still causes me to have panic attacks or throw up if I picture it well enough. The best way I can explain it without forcing myself to think too much about it, is milk with a little blue dye in it. That's what her skin looked like. She feebly reached out at my pant leg. I stepped back more, and then she slumped over. I wasn't sure if she was dead, but I nudged her with my foot. She didn't move. She was dead, she had to be. I screamed. I screamed louder than I ever will in my life. I ran after that, probably the fastest I'd ever run too. I ran back the way I came, past the stupid fucking rabbit bottle, past the flyers, past the market area where I was before. I only stopped when I reached the gift shop area. I cried more than I ever will I think. I never cared for my grandparents, let alone any of my relatives, but I was elated to find them browsing the selection of shirts. They were wondering why I was crying. I eluded to the fact that I watched a woman die, and rather just told them I was hysterical because I was lost. I still wish that was the case looking back. I feel, like a part of me died when that woman died. I feel like watching anybody die an untimely and violent death would kill something inside of anybody. Seattle was, and is, a beautiful city with beautiful sights. I am never going back there though. I'm going to leave whatever part of me died there. That's the way it's meant to be."
s_2139_322,It could have just been depression but when I got off of it I was no longer as tired lol
s_2338_145,"Mine ends up with his forehead laying on his hands, nose into the mattress. No matter what I do he ends up like that. I don't sleep well due to worry"
s_2958_51,"If I'm tired I'm socially skills totally disappear. How do to manage when I don't have energy? I've noticed that when I'm tired I'm terrible at socializing. I make stupid comments, I mumble, I can't think of anything to say or what to talk about (unless it's something about myself), I complain about things, I can't hide my emotions, I stumble over my words, I don't listen well, and I'm not as aware of how the people around me are feeling. It's embarrassing and I feel like I don't deal with it as well as other people around me. I find I have a lot more trouble with this at work than anywhere else. This is a real problem because I work at a coffee shop and being tired really kills my ability to interact with customers and coworkers. I can't hold a conversation, and it makes it difficult to connect with the people I work with when I'm having trouble halfway through an eight hour shift. When I'm feeling good and energized I'm usually pretty quick on my feet and friendly, but being even a little tired makes me dull and anxious. Do any of you have advice for staying socially energized? or being able to maintain when I am tired? EDIT: Posted this after a long shift at work; Just look at that title."
s_258_546,"Couldnt agree with you more. I had more life inside of me as a teen and young adult than I do now. I was able to experience novelty and joy even if I did still feel lonely/ depressed and would self harm , I had the ability to enjoy and feel like the real me - now all thats gone and Ive just gotten buried into a depressive hole where everyday is lived robotically or ghostly. Depression became normal for me. I lost who I am. I have no identity . Im sorta dead already. Days turn to nights ; nights turn to days with nothing worth remembering in between. Im bored with myself but also lost the will to reinvent myself or think its possible to change anything. Thats whats better about adolescence- there was still some hope of experimenting or inventing something new. Now Im just expired , rotting away ."
s_1404_715,"Why am I so unproductive? Im extremely unproductive. When I try to do my homework, I end up staring at the wall and day dreaming away because I simply have no mental energy to do anything. It feels like 90% of my brain is dead. Even if I notice I'm staring at the wall and I start doing my work, 10 seconds later im staring at the wall AGAIN. I simply can't focus. Even if there are no distractions. What can I do to have more power to work hard? Its not even that im tired, I just cant focus on boring and hard homeworks."
s_2460_674,"I'm down 35 lbs as of this morning, I'm in the same boat - but I've only really had one person notice my efforts. The thing is that I had a huge amount of weight to lose (started at 285) so much of the weight I have lost is likely visceral fat which obviously doesn't show on the outside. I'm down 3 belt buckles and 2 shirt sizes though :)
but I'm already starting to feel better
This is the main point, I feel amazing. I get solid sleep every night. I don't sweat as much anymore and aside from some hunger (extremely manageable) I have all the energy in the world."
s_993_644,Trigger warning : Domestic Violence. So my dad has schizophrenia. Long story short he had one of bia episodes. Meds stopped working. He is really caring when on meds. But he gets violent in his episodes. He beat my mom. This has happened a few times in past too. He has never hit me. Only my mom n brother. Don't know why. This alao eats me.up. Because if he has lost his mind he should have hit me too. My parents are old now. So I guess I am just scared that in his next episode I might not be there to handle him. It is not his fault as he is normally not like this. I thought I might have to send him to some home or something when my mom gets much older and can't handle him . This made me feel guilty. Also his last violent episode was 9 years ago. But this time I just can't seem to get past it. It's eating at me. Maybe I need to go therapy to sort it all out.
s_1141_150,"100 hours later and I still kind of suck. There are games where I do very well. In the last 4 days I've been able to reach MVP with 6+ kills a couple of times a day. But on average I find I'm making poor decisions. I guess my average game I go 4-2, or 1-2, or 2-4 seem to be very common. A couple of times a day (or even more) I go 1-4 or something like that. I find that I'm inconsistent. And when I do good sometimes I feel like I get lucky. My main Operators are:
Defense:
Pulse
Jger
(Mostly use these for roaming)
Mute
Kapkan
On attack, I use:
Ash
Sledge
Twitch
Honestly I find that sometimes I do pretty good (got a 8-0 yesterday with a 1 v 4 clutch) but other times I do so bad it's almost embarrassing. Is there any universal tip on how to do better? I feel like what I'm having the most trouble with is outsmarting my enemy"
s_982_1272,"Basic Human Needs Day 6
I woke up with a migrane. The same migrane I've been having every day when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. I was hungry. Of course I was. Who isn't hungry when they wake up? There was hardly anything to eat other than the cereal in the corner pantry which never seems to run out. I shouldn't even be eating this cereal because of my alergies, but it keeps my stomach full. What's a rash on my arms compared to days starvation? I put the milk back in the mini fridge in the corner. The only other room I have access to is the restroom. It's been getting more and more empty every day. Today, after I ate my breakfast, I went to brush my teeth and noticed my toothbrush was gone. I at least used mouth wash to help my mouth feel fresh. Then I got to doing the only thing I know that takes the migrane away. Playing games. I have at least a dozen board games to play with and even a bunch of video games from the 1990s. I had plenty to keep myself busy and entertained. What sort of game will I have to resort to when I'm done with all of these? Whoever put me here already thought of that. The games are very replayable. So I went to a board game today. I pretend there are four other players there. I roll play them. Their names are Dan, Nathan, and Felix. They play with me. We're all psychic. Only with each other. It makes Clue no fun. I'm just waiting for that to disappear so I don't have to look at it any more. Today I found this journal and a pensil. I think they want me to write in it, so I am. I can use it to keep notes for myself about what I've been playing them. Soon I'll hear the knocking. That's when I have to go to sleep. The knocking just keeps hapenning if I don't. I can't open the door. I'm not allowed. ---
Day 7
I woke up with a migrane. The same migrane I've been having every day when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. I was hungry. Of course I was. It was the same thing yesterday and it's going to be the same thing today. What's a rash on my arms compared to days starvation? I keep telling myself so I can put up with the symptoms. Today, after I ate my breakfast, I went to brush my teeth and remembered that my toothbrush had disappeared. The mouth wash was gone too, as if it had vanished. I couldn't do anything but leave my mouth rinsed with hot water. I was prepared to take a shower today, but the shower curtain disappeared as well as the showerhead. I got back to playing games again. What sort of games will I be here to when I'm done with all of these? Whoever put me here already thought of that. The games are very replayable. I'm rewriting this to remind myself that the games are worth it. They're worth it over laying all day with a head-ache. I can't sleep as long as the light is kept on. So I went to a board game today. I pretend there are four other players there. I roll play them. Their names are Dan, Nathan, and Felix. They play with me. We're all psychic. Only with each other. It makes Clue no fun. I'm just waiting for that to disappear so I don't have to look at it any more. I figured out why I can't use this journal to take notes on my games. They took the pages of yesterday's journal. I'm going to test to see if they take these pages too. It's almost time for me to get to sleep. With a migrane of course. ---
Day 8
I'm still waking up with a migrane. It's still not changing. The migrane I bear while I'm not playing. I'm beginning to smell. Is this waht they want? For me not to be able to do what I want? The cereal changed, but I'm still alergic to it. The rash is still just as bad from this one as it was from the last. I'm getting a bit sick of the board games. Some of them are missing. I won't be able to finish the game of Life I started yesterday. It was a 1 vs 1 match between Dan and me. I'm digging into the video games now. One system, one controller, one TV. All in my one little room. You know, if you don't count the restroom. i don't even count it as a room anymore. Nothing but a couples towest and toilet paper. I kept myself entertained for the entire day. Not very hard. I got through three simple games. My head didn't feel too great while switching, but a few minutes at a time isn't nearly as bad as the hours I spend waking up and going to sleep. My last pages were missing. I'm wondering why you're taking them. Why do you want my random thoughts? What the fuck is this going to prove? I don't even know where I am. ---
Day 9
I still don't have a goddamn clue. What the hell do you want? Stop taking my pages. I just want to be able to re-read them once. Why are you making them disappear? What else are you going to make disappear? I'm out of food. What more can you take away from me. You can't possibly think I'd rather be hungry than have a rash. I'm getting sick from the hunger. It's almost worst than the pain in my head. Is this the kind of notes you want? The games are still keeping me entertained. They're keeping the headache away while they can. The ones I played yesterday are gone. If I'm not allowed to play games more than once, I'll eventually be left with nothing but a headache. ---
Day 10
Bastards. The first thing to go was my bed. Then the chairs. Then the table. Eventually, everything else. What good is a game without the controller? What good is this last board game without others? Without friends? Without companionship? This experiment is worthless. What you're doing is worthless. You're worthless. Am I worthless? Is that it? Am I just a worthless mouse to you? I'll break through this door eventually. It has to break some time. ---
Day 11
FUCK YOU"
s_2495_9,"I don't really understand what that means, but I'm not all that interested in sex."
s_2460_874,"Now that I'm in the latter half of my 20s, I'm start to appreciate the earlier start times for weekends. I used to sleep in past noon every saturday/sunday. But now sleeping in till 9-10am is plenty. I've actually started adding a rule where I wont sleep past 10am on Sundays because otherwise I can't get to sleep before midnight Sunday night which fucks my sleep before work on Monday."
s_1404_1455,"Masturbating right before and also during sleep I feel like its affecting my sleep quality If I wake up tired in the morning when I should go back to sleep, instead I start masturbating which also affects how much rest I get. During the day while doing homework, I also start masturbating randomly."
s_144_37,"""I am not a morning person"" sounds cliche, but it's accurate in my case. Doesn't matter how long I sleep, what tricks I do with my alarm, whatever, I wake up groggy and drag myself to consciousness slowly. My job has had me starting work at 6 a.m. for years now and I simply can't seem to adjust. Note: I don't drink coffee. I do drink colas, but I'm trying to cut back. I have found that drinking a big glass or bottle of water first thing helps me feel better in the morning, but it doesn't seem to make me any more alert."
s_2415_1017,"Nothing really. But I'd like to have a good start and a better year. I feel like I have wasted a lot of time (I am 19). I'd like to take my studies more seriously. Find some new friends. In 2015, I had hit rock bottom and I was completely hopeless and had lost the will to live. I am better this year but still pretty indifferent to anything. I see other people happy, having friends, in relationships, just having a great time etc. and here I am finding it hard to enjoy anything. Sometimes I look at other people and feel ""Wish I was you"". I'd like to see how it pans out and I want to improve myself. My goal at 19 is to find true happiness, great people, great experiences and financial independence. I am already a minimalist and I am careful with money. I am confident that things can get better but there is not one particular thing I am looking forward to."
s_1931_491,"I agree with you. Im not really concerned about sex. Im more interested in companionship, stability, health, etc. I know sex is important to some people but not me."
s_2130_277,"Finding Meaning or Purpose (warning suicide thoughts) I've been increasingly more suicidal lately. I always think of suicide. That's like baseline for me. I can go to Disney world and be having a great time and still think, this would be a good time to kill myself because I'll go out on a high note. Basically, it's rare that I'm not thinking about it. However, lately I'm moving forward in my thoughts. Where once it was just the idea. It's now moved to me having the idea, and knowing the method, and having the method handy. And like a true writer and planner researching ideas for what to say in the note. But no date yet. I've told all this to my psychiatrist and he is not yet worried for me in that he hasn't suggested that I make my way to the emergency room. However, he did suggest that I try to find a way to stop feeling trapped by the obligations and commitments in my life. For example, I've a kid and a husband and while I'd love to travel the world and join a research group in Antarctica over the winter. I can't do that because of them. So I feel trapped by my life. And to me it seems the only way out is death. Currently I just pray for it. Hoping that I'll go to a doctor and they'll say ""you have terminal cancer or something"" but alas no. But I don't know how to not feel trapped. I made commitments I can't just cut out on them. And abandon them. So I'm stuck and miserable. For you who have found meaning and purpose in the midst of horrible circumstances, how did you do it. Any tips? Thanks in advance"
s_697_54,"So many, with sadness Im not entirely sure how this makes me feel, Im pretty new to Reddit and finding this specifically hearing other people talk and share their sadness and desires to die is sort of comforting to me Im not sure how people will take that. For so long Ive been judged and bashed and I finally found other people that I can relate to part of me is sad though that others feel that way. At this point Im so sad that I feel numb, all my days are just one and I hardly sleep, hardly eat. I just sort of survive and have multiple mental and emotional breakdowns everyday. It just so strange to finally feel a sense of unity I read so many posts and feel the exact same way as some of you. Its a shitty ride and I guess we are all on it together."
s_2008_231,"If I have something to wake up for then I just don't go back to sleep. It's called being responsible for your obligations. Grow up and learn that life isn't meant to be wasted on sleep. Unless you're younger than 5 years old, you should have enough sense to know you can't just ignore life and go back to sleep. If you can't handle whatever it is you're waking up for, then you don't need/want it bad enough. I work 60+ hours a week and go to school 10 hours a week. I have a house to maintain and food that doesn't cook itself. I get about 4-5 hours of sleep per night sometimes less. I know to have a house to maintain and food to cook, I have to work as much as I do. If I want these things without having to work as much, I have to complete my education to have the higher paying position. If I'm late for work or school, I risk those things. I wake up and stay awake. I'm aware this won't be a popular post and not just for grammatical reasons. I'm simply expressing my thoughts as a response to the original question. TL;DR: ranting about sleep."
s_141_110,i do want to die
s_2007_124,I can't deal with this stomachache I know that my depression causes it and it affects me so bad I can't deal with this anymore. If it lasts any longer I will lose my mind. I'm trying to get some things out of my head but they stay there and they're slowly killing me. My thoughts are the worst thing right now.
s_523_60,She didn't understand decksluts. I cry erytime
s_1194_31,"just need to vent i feel so guilty about everything. mostly about my mom, i treat her like absolute shit even though i realty dont mean it i just have anger issues and the thing is i cant apologize to her about the wrong i do because affection is disgusting to me i just cant bring myself to saying im sorry its like pulling tooth.. my anxiety always gets the best of me which causes me to lash out and say things i really dont mean but i still feel so guiltily about it even if i dont mean it. im such a shitty person i dont think im EVER going to change im gonna be miserable my whole life. i really hate myself"
s_1599_64,"My Wife and Kids Never Existed (Part 6) [Part 1](<URL>)
[Part 2](<URL>)
[Part 3](<URL>)
[Part 4](<URL>)
[Part 5](<URL>)
FINAL PART
I remember what everything was like before that one dreadful morning that I awoke to my wife and kids no longer being in my home. I never told you guys about that did I? Well, I suppose I should. I started off the morning by thanking God for my day off. I saved my wife some time by packing the kids lunches, before sending them off to their bus stops with a kiss on the cheek. Christina and I spent half an hour on the couch cuddled under a blanket. The times alone with each other were the best. It reminded us of when we were first dating. If there really is a Heaven, thatll be it. I guess Ill find out. Ill be there soon. After taking the shot, and taking a quick picture, I sped off down the alleyway. I tried to scream but no sound came out of my mouth. I tried to cry, but no tears would come. I heard my laptop emit the sound of a received email. The last email I hope to get for a long time. It gave me a name and the address. The name was ZACHARY and after putting the address into Google, I saw that it led to an old junk yard on the outskirts of town. Zachary must be 000000000, and he was the last person Id have to kill before this sick shit was over. Id be able to see my family again. I stopped at the gun store one more time. I purchased a revolver, I wasnt going to get in a gunfight with a bolt-action .22. I remember the man asking me what I planned to do with it, and I remember walking out the door not saying a word. I was dead tired by the time I finished everything. I went back to the seedy hotel I had taken residence, and fell asleep upon hitting the bed. I had nothing but nightmares, seeing my kids being shot in the head by an unstoppable figure. Watching my wife asphyxiate and die from seemingly nothing. My family suffering while a distant voice whispered I hope you find them over and over again. Despite the terrors that plagued me at night, I awoke at noon. I got up and stepped into the shower. The mirror was fogged by the time I got out. I was relieved. I cant look at what it reflects, all I see is someone who killed an innocent family. Someone who ruined peoples lives for his own personal gain. I couldnt look at that person right now, and honestly I dont think Ill ever be able to. The drive to the junkyard was only a 30 minute drive, but to me it felt like hours. I shouldve been eager. One pull of the trigger and Id be able to hold my wife in my arms, Id be able to wake my kids up for school. I wasnt though. I felt like I was going to vomit the whole time. I made sure to drive past the junkyard to a rest stop half a mile away. If Zachary was still there, I didnt want him to know I was coming. It was a short 10 minute walk. The fenced-in junkyard was littered with cars, any one of them could be hiding the grieving man who was more eager to kill me than I was to kill him. I scanned the area and noticed a light being emitted from the broken window of a car. I crouched down, pistol in hand, and began inching my way to the car. I was about 20 feet away when I noticed that a man was sitting in the drivers seat of the car and the light was coming from his lap. He wasnt moving. Then the realization hit me. As I moved closer, I noticed that the broken window had blood splattered all over it. I got up and walked over to the drivers side door. Upon opening it, Zacharys arm slumped over towards where the door once was. His expressionless face was covered in flies and all sorts of insects. I glanced down and noticed that his phone was on, all it showed was the picture of his dead wife. The picture I sent to him. I realized that after receiving the picture of his dead wife, Zachary had shot himself. An uncontrollable rush of tears flooded to my eyes. Im sorry I muttered, Im so sorry
I mustve sat with my back against the car for a good hour. I couldnt help but cry. I couldnt get over the fact that I had killed this man and his family for me. For what I wanted. I pulled my digital camera from my pocket and took a picture of the dead man slumped over in his car seat, and sent it to 000000001. After a few mintues, my laptop dinged. It was email from 000000001. All it said was Theyll be waiting for you at home. I didnt head straight home. I stopped at the hotel first. I couldnt go home just yet. I couldnt face my family after what I had done. This is the 2nd day Ive been in this hotel room. The nightmares persistently invade my sleep. They consist of nothing but screams emanating from every direction, and re-runs of me killing Zacharys family, Zachary pleading for me to stop all the while. The nightmares persist even into my awake life. Ill be watching TV or otherwise trying to take my mind off things when a flashback of me ending someones life occurs. I see my revolver out of the corner of my eye, resting on the table as I type this update. I keep thinking back to Zachary, and how much I envy him. He got to escape all the misery and discomfort with one pull of a trigger. I wonder if hes happy now. I think Ill ask [him](<URL>)."
s_1773_551,"Assistance with dental! All donations appreciated. I'm 20, I work. ( I don't get dental through work either) I make too much to qualify for Medicare, but not enough to have my own dental insurance and I can't get it. My teeth are getting to the point to where they are starting to rot out. My teeth are constantly killing me and I'm afraid I'm going to get an infection inside my mouth. I brush my teeth daily but my family doesn't have good teeth so it's probably genetics. I don't smile anymore because I'm afraid people will see my teeth. My self esteem as gone way down hill and I don't feel like myself anymore. I need root canals done, fillings, some tooth extracations, some crowns, a little bit of everything and 2000 (wild guess) should cover all expenses. I need help. Any donation is appreciated. Thank you to anyone who is willing to help. Here's the link to my GoFundMe page: <URL>"
s_1287_337,"Life just sucks I've been feeling awfully shitty whenever I'm alone or not with people I know. This feeling started at work about 2 months ago and once in awhile I would find myself really in the dumps outside of work, but not too often. The longer time went on I would feel worse and worse outside of work. The last 3 weeks or so it's become so prominent in my life the only time I escape it is when I'm with friends. Even then I get an occasional feeling of hate for myself. I've been getting about 3 headaches a day the past week and I haven't been sleeping well. I've had a shitty appetite and I'm starting to hate everything about myself. It was suggested to me by my HR that I take some time off to try to clear my head. Tomorrow is my first day back in two weeks. Things haven't gotten better and I'm always alone at work. I'm scared to go back. I don't want to. We have a point system there and if you get to 10 you're fired. Work was a trigger for me so I've collected either 8, 9 or 10 in the last 2 months or so. I forgot how many I had so I could be getting fired when I come in tomorrow. I need money and I've applied to new jobs already just in case, but I know if I get fired it will be the most bittersweet thing in my life right now. I would've gotten rid of a large stressor in my life, but I would not have enough money. I'm 20, live with two roommates and go to school. My family is poor and I know they would struggle to support me if I didn't have a job. I have my own bills to pay and I'm really going to be screwed for a bit. All of my friends with the exception of 4 are away for school now and ude to school I won't have much time to see them. I'm scared things are going to get worse and my feelings will only escalate into something that could be troubling. I was recently rejected by this girl that I've still been friends with and tonight a friend went to a fair with her. When I asked that friend what he was doing earlier in the day (I wanted to hang out) he said he just wanted to stay at home tonight. I found out because the girl I like told me that they were going to the fair. That made me feel really shitty. My Mom's birthday was a couple of days ago and I forgot to at least call her. I felt like I was worthless for forgetting. It was 6pm and she texted me and she had to tell me it was her birthday. I really didn't want to live anymore after that text. I'm scared I'm becoming a huge failure and disappointment to myself. I want something bad to happen to me so I die. I know I wouldn't be able to take my own life from myself, but I don't think I would hesitate to try to save myself from anything bad happening to me. I don't see the point in living if I'm just going to feel shitty and scared all the time. I'm becoming extremely irritable, I find myself being quick to judge and then hate other people. I'm becoming an extremely bitter and pessimistic person. I'm seeing a therapist once a week now. I need that to help me. I need a lot right now. TL;DR My life feels like a waste, I think I'm becoming a fuck up and I'm scared of my future."
s_1808_63,"I've had a feeling I don't like myself, but I'm not really sure how to like myself or why I do t like myself. Maybe its because of my appearance, but losing weight and stuff takes time
I guess I just want friends and don't want to be lonely too, and I'm willing to do everything to do that, even change who I really am, for friends. Most of my summer has been spent by myself and I don't like it because I don't have any friends nearby and I'm lonely
Fear of rejection I guess, which is odd because I've been rejected before, and even hated, and I would think I would be used to it or something"
s_2188_1006,I'm quite angry
s_13_145,I see this all the time and it irritates me. I'm naturally yellow blonde and I have recognisably dark eyebrows. It's not uncommon.
s_1483_18,"Honestly, man, I don't think there's much more to living anymore. I'm 35 and things just keep getting progressively worse. I just can't do it anymore. If it was up to me, I'd kill myself. But my child support is important for my kids' well-being. As I'm on disability from the VA, I could run away and the checks would keep coming. So maybe that's the best solution"
s_1313_32,I am sleep deprived I need help
s_2350_66,"It's tough my dear I'm so grateful to have you in my life. You've enabled me to finally become an adult, to live by myself and with you. You provide for me since I don't have a job, and encourages me to get one, so I try my best. You know I have such a deep fear of people getting angry and outburst of rage would throw me into a loop. I know you have those, you still have, but I'm coping way better now, and I noticed you're calmer. You smoke less and less at home, even though you're stressed because of your job, and you're beginning to exercise again. Thank you for taking care of your health, because I really want to spend a lot of time with you. Yet despite all that, I know I'm not truly happy. I think it's obvious for anyone that knows me a little that I have depression, and it still has some deep deep roots in me, and I think I'll never get rid of them. You support me so much. I truly love you. You're an amazing person and a fantastic partner. I thought you would be my cure to finally get a hold of myself and move on in life, and find a purpose. I'm just so disappointed in myself that it's not the case. Will I ever be free of this constant sadness I have inside? How much do I have to fight? I hope I'm not a burden to you. I love you my dear, but it's tough."
s_697_215,So did I. I hardly eat or sleep. I suffer from major depressive disorder and severe anxiety. Its really taken over me.
s_67_475,Day 8 for me. Doing okay and want to keep this pace. Still not sleeping thr best but I'm feeling better everyday. I will not drink today.
s_342_952,"Depression has destroyed my ability to read When I was young, I was a voracious reader, I even read in classes I thought were boring at school, I used to read all of the time. Then when I graduated, I fell into a bout of depression, it wasn't all at once. But I noticed I stopped doing things, lost interest in reading, and, I'm sure you guys know the rest. Fast forward to 2016 and I want to read *so fucking bad.* I've currently been trying to read Game of Thrones but I find, I can't comprehend anything. It's not with just that book either, it's with most things I try to read. What did you guys do to combat this?"
s_2415_395,Sleep and I am determined to believe I am a loser.
s_1580_37,"I started off my weight loss journey doing keto and got really, really good results. However, after I started really working out hard/training for triathlons, I could feel my body slowing down. I became lethargic, couldn't focus and constantly tired. Don't buy into the myths about the dangers of high carbs. Yes, sugary, processed foods that are high in carbs are obviously not good for you. However, legumes are high in carbs and are great for you. I decided to switch to a whole foods, plant based diet recently and it has been the best thing I've ever done. My body feels light, airy and my recovery time in the gym is like never before. I know it's not for everyone but I'm in love. I eat between 100-250g's of carbs and am still consistently losing weight at the same clip I did under a keto diet."
s_1483_17,"I feel you. I have 2 pros. My children. But considering I rarely get to see them as they live with their mother, it's really hard to use them as an incentive to live. Like, when they're not here it's really hard to think of a concrete reason to live. I have nothing else. To make it worse, I'm still in love with their mother, but she just started dating again, so that's a knife to the heart. I just seriously can't keep torturing myself for their sake. I know it's selfish, but my whole life I've been selfless and it's gotten me nowhere. I want to kill myself and not have to be sad all the time"
s_1749_906,"My sister is 7 years older than me and I didn't start to get remotely pretty until I was around 14. So a bit of ugly duckling syndrome. It didn't help that my sister was absolutely gorgeous in her teens while I was a kid. She also got our moms complexion while I got our dads, so I am white and she looks more ethnic. As a kid I knew I wasn't very pretty and didn't care but not looking like my mom and sister bothered me. People loved to point out how white I am, others would ask if I was adopted. I hated it. Once I was in 7th and 8th grade I started to care more about my looks. Which was basically the same time they were beginning to improve as I was starting to bloom into the woman I am today. During that time I also was developing an eating disorders due to stress of moving and whatnot as well as the fact that I am just prone to mental disorders. I had started cutting myself a couple years before that. But my anorexia lasted a while. The kicker is that while I started getting skinny and pretty (not that I was overweight before) my sister got pregnant and gained 50 pounds in her pregnancy. She has struggled with her weight off and on since. Nothing extreme, she's has definitely never been plus sized. It was weird though that as the age gap between us became less significant I sort of also caught up with her appearance wise. Still white though. For the record I no longer struggle with an eating disorder or self harm. Still crazy though."
s_2593_496,Mentally Failing (Vent) (Listed as NSFW due to possibly dark content) Hi everyone. I'm MTF 19 and I've been having a really rough time. My mental state keeps declining even though I'm 4 months HRT. I just don't feel cute or pretty and I just feel so ugly. I often feel like I should just die because I'm too ugly and stupid to live. Is there anything I can do? Maybe I deserve everything I do to myself.
s_1404_467,"If I drop the kink and find a girlfriend who has no kinks, then she will not be able to sexually satisfy me at all. I don't like the idea of having sex. So if there are no kinks involved, then there simply won't be anything sexual between me and my future girl."
s_1415_1121,I didn't even think of suicide. I viewed this as lynching/hanging someone. Both horrifically awful in context.
s_258_524,"Do you suffer from depression too ? Its harder in recovery. For me its the perfect chicken or egg dilemma. Idk if anorexia caused my depression or if depression caused me to develop anorexia but in recovery, Im beginning to notice that both are interdependent on each other in really weird ways. Im currently teaching at a school that I absolutely hate and I feel emotionally detached everyday crying myself to sleep . Though Im not having any anorexic thoughts, I find it very difficult to eat like I just dont have an appetite ,get full too fast, and eat extremely slow. Its weird because I feel my ED is sorta fading away as a coping mechanism but my depression is stronger than ever before. Anyone else going/went through this ?"
s_2114_106,I don't want to live on this planet anymore.
s_1280_152,"No idea what I'm doing wrong I'm on my 2nd game and atm it seems I've hit a wall. I have 10 planets and can't get more because I'm blocked off by other empires. I placed mining and research stations wherever I can. Now, I want to go to war so I can destroy the empires that are in my way but atm I have to wait 15 years because of a truce? So I tried building up my fleet but apparently my energy is too low to support my fleet (only 16k). So I feel stuck... I can't get more fleet and I can't get more energy. Atm I have a deficit of -42 andn seemingly no way to fix this (I used edicts, deactivated some buildings and upgraded the energy ones. ANd to make matters worse. There is a fallen empire nearby with a 100k fleet... How are you supposed to ever get energy to support a fleet that high? What do I do now?"
s_2402_713,"Well I used to self-harm, don't anymore. But I'm really struggling a lot with being suicidal at the moment."
s_975_50,"I feel this :( I thought I wanted a relationship because I always have this empty feeling and it feels like I'm incomplete. My girlfriends always talk about their s/o and i feel like maybe that's what I'm missing out. I tried online dating, but very quickly realized that it isn't what I needed. I have issues that stemmed from my childhood that doesn't allow me to be vulnerable enough to someone else and I have very bad self esteem issues that surfaced right away. I was triggered and went into a dark place of hating myself and wondering why I just couldn't give myself the chance to let someone in. I feel like the loneliness doesn't necessarily stem from being alone but perhaps the feeling you have with yourself. I feel alone because I'm not happy with myself. Dating someone won't fix that, only I can. It's not worth it to put someone else through the warzone because of my own issues. I hope you find peace, OP."
s_547_567,What about a new dynamic to luxury resources? Something like an endangered or over-harvested element. I'm really tired.
s_2706_670,I've got so much anxiety right now lol. My gut is turning and I just wanna be in the fetal position until this is over
s_257_457,I'll get back to you. Considering I'm 20 I'm a bit disappointed in myself.
s_2993_462,"Interesting, I've had suicidal tendencies for must my life, to get rid of that would be a dream! I'm over this addict shit though. Gotta be some way. Idk hopefully I'll find a way. I'll have to do my research whether I try or not sounds interesting. Glad it helped you though. You know how it helped or what bout it did? I just recently heard someone on a reality show who was addicted to it and end up being hospitalized from her addiction to it. Fucked up the things that can help can be so harmful."
s_1404_850,"Extremely stressed out. I want the peace of death I have too much problems to deal with. university going bad and very far behind with homework 2. friends leaving me 3. friends suiciding 4. my terrible health (always being very tired) 5. frustrated about being single all the time ( I already gave up on this temporarily ) 6. my depression (I got diagnosed and im using meds) My stress level is at 100% every hour of the day and every day of the week. I can never rest. I feel worse and worse. I want the peace of death now. even classmates who don't know me well seem to approach me just because they are worried about me. I am like a zombie every day. I seem so calm, I barely talk to anyone, but inside my mind im going crazy. I know I should reduce my sources of stress but its impossible!!! I can't just stop texting my friends. Because they will suicide if I stop talking to them. I can't stop doing my 24 / 7 homework unless I wanna mess my career up Even though im not putting much effort in dating anymore, the fact that im single still bothers me alot and I simply cant change how I feel. Due to my depression there is nothing in life that I enjoy. So there is nothing that compensates my stress and sufferingl I feel like the stress alone is gonna kill me. Help Dont tell me to see a therapist I did that for 3 years and it never helped me at all. Im under treatment by a psychiatrist who is trying medicines with me."
s_621_740,"I am having one of those days where all you want to do is cry. Reddit, what do you do to cheer yourself up? EDIT; Thank you to everyone who has cheered me up, all my friends and family wonder why I spend so much time on here, and its people like you guys who constantly bring me back. You are ALL so amazing! Thank you for cheering me up everyone :)"
s_2292_402,"LPT Request: Best ways to stay awake (or just not feel tired) when you get sleepy during the day? I work from home, and I don't sleep well for the most part (I have insomnia and completely rely on sleep aids, and they tend not to give you a good night's rest, which results in fatigue a few hours after waking up), so at some point during the day, I usually get a little tired and have the urge to just crawl into bed and finish my work later (which I could do, but staying awake and doing it right then would be better). Any advice? Even when I go sit at the kitchen table to get away from my bed, and hopefully the urge to lay down, I still feel the urge to put my head down and just fall asleep. It's very inconvenient. By the way, I have talked to my physician about this. She recommended that I attempt to provide my body with a consistent circadian rhythm, which I'm working on. But for now, I figured I'd look for a short-term solution while I do so."
s_2139_319,Please Pray that I will stop feeling suicidal and live. My name is Imani
s_3100_1430,IamA teenager that was killed by my father. I commited suicide soon after. UPDATE: Im also/was a psychopath.
s_993_726,Yes totally. I am super depressed right now. Can't get out of bed to feed myself level. I can't relate to person I was a month ago when I was waking up at proper time and going to the office. I feel like that was a dream or something.
s_2625_821,"That's how I am, and I feel like there's something wrong with me. I like to masturbate but I don't really enjoy sex. I'm attracted to guys and I like doing physical things like touching but not penetrative sex. I feel weird about it and it's ended past relationships :("
s_1749_847,"It's weird because they have seen me cry when I start talking about how all I want to do is just going back to work. I have pain specialists but they don't drug test because they don't prescribe anything, they just tell my pcp if they think I should be prescribed anything. I wish they would drug test me. I am going to find another doctor a state over where I will be for a while so I will offer to take drug tests. I did learn that if I bring my mom with me to the doctor they will take me seriously and trust me with narcotics. ( My mom took me to an urgent care because she couldn't deal with me being in so much pain constantly and they gave me tramadol). Hopefully when I establish a new doctor and bring my mom with it will work out. I also have an appointment with my pain specialist on Monday as well as a psychiatrist with the pain clinic. I'm worried they will still think I shouldn't be on the stuff that works and allows me to function at least a little. At this point I don't expect to be able to go back to work but I at least expect to be treated well enough as a patient that I can get decent enough management that I can go to the store and take a shower in the same day. I really don't get how everyone else is able to get treatment but me. Maybe that's not very accurate but it's how I feel. I am always completely honest with them. I tell them that I want less pain but I also want to be careful with meds because my dad is an alcoholic and my sister is on heroin. While my dad is very functional the last thing I want is to end up like my sister. I am seeking drugs so I can have a life, not ruin it. I get that the regulations on narcotics are pretty serious and I know they don't want to give those meds to someone my age but shit. It sucks being 23 and feeling like my life is over. I am already going to have to go on disability and I already left my job and home where my partner is to come 2000 miles to get better. My pain makes my depression so much worse. And the fucking brain fog. I can't even think straight. I'm so irritable all the time. My jaw hurts so bad sometimes that I end up on a slimfast diet for weeks at a time. Half the time I don't even want to eat because it all puts me in a weird mood. I can't wait to see the psychiatrist. I think they will understand better. And about the modeling thing. Part of me really wants to but I am not nearly as photogenic as I used to be. I am also not as fit and my skin is bad now. So even if I could become a suicide girl I probably wouldn't be a very successful one. My boobs are totally saggy."
s_2606_449,"I think I'm bored, but I don't have the energy to do anything. Maybe I should go back to sleep."
s_256_57,"Losing interest in the game Hey guys, i have been an active player in optc for 2 years now, and i have always been enjoying the game so much that i have to open the game atleast 10 times everyday. But lately, i have been losing much interest in the game, like i open it, play to get the gems and maybe farm some stuff but am not feeling excited and having fun at all. I really enjoy OPTC and want to keep playing it. Any tips that would help cure my interest loss would be highly appreciated."
s_1455_72,"I'm going to respond to all of this and challenge most of your points. I'm not like you kids. I am not 15. I'm an adult. Depression didn't hit me until I turned 26. There's no age limit on these things. I have no girlfriend. No personality. I have achieved nothing and I have no skills. This is nothing but negative speak, which does nothing to help. Do you want a girlfriend? Trust me they can be a pain in the ass too. Are you actively working towards a job? A house isn't a big deal. No personality??! Cmon you're just beating yourself up for no reason at this point. I should have done electronic engineering. But I didn't. I should've gone straight into a masters program. But I didn't. I'm an engineer and not necessarily happy. How does going straight into a masters program help? You could be in the same situation with more debt. You need to be more rational about these negative thoughts your having. There're people my age who have children on purpose. Some of my friends have mortgages. Some of them are with the people they're going to marry. How does any of this matter? Children and spouses don't cure depression. All the things you listed could actually make you feel worse. It's not even like I'm one of these jobless losers who is like that because they spent their youth just having fun. Never been overseas. I never started a band. Why wasn't I in a band? Why didn't I do a gap year and travel? Why didn't I pursue acting? Even if I didn't become famous, at least I would've really tried. Have no regrets. Now I'm old. And I don't know what to do. When my sister has children and they ask me about my life, what am I going to tell them? That I never even tried? That they should never listen to their loser uncle? There are people who had abusive parents or got kicked out of home at 16 or had cancer and achieve 10 times what I have. More pointless negative speak. At this point you're just rambling about things that could've been with no real rationale behind it. Be in a band? Pursue acting? These don't sound like things you're passionate about. Honestly they just sound like shit to do. I have no energy at all. I have no motivation. Are you willing to do something about it? If so /r/GetMotivated is calling
I need drugs. I need some chemical to trick my brain into feeling like everything can still work out. This is the absolute WORST reason to get on meds. Take it from me, they don't fix the root of your problems. Start there and look into meditation if you're serious about fixing your problems. What do you guys do when you feel like this? I'm fat
Workout. Can't afford a gym /r/bodyweightfitness is calling you. No excuses. , unemployed,
Jobs don't make you happy. Volunteer... it may provide the perspective you need about your situation. old,
We all get older. Either come to terms with it now or be miserable forever. Hell I've gotten older since I started typing to you. You can still achieve things at an older age. stupid, unskilled, unqualified,
You have the internet and numerous resources to address all of these. Harvard has free online classes for programming. You can address your weaknesses if you really want to. and I live with my parents. Take it as an opportunity to save money and reach your goal. I've never been suicidal, but I think I'm starting to understand it. I'm not in any immediate danger and I would never kill myself while my parents are alive, but on the other hand I don't see any realistic way out. I don't know what to fucking do. Just reading your story there's no reason to be suicidal. You're just in a slump. The good thing is you can get out of it. But only if you REALLY want to. That's what you have to do. Just today I came into work depressed. I logged into this subreddit and figured I'd help others. I already feel better because I have found worth by giving advice to others. Things can always get better. But when you have depression you have to keep fighting. best of luck!"
s_1404_495,What do you mean by upgrading myself? I'm already happy with who I am and what I do
s_1404_879,My body is weak and im always tired. Doctors were unable to find any cause. What should I do? I went to doctors and even the hospital many times. Never found a cause to why im always weak and tired. What should I do now?
s_2372_67,"Is it possible to climb out of bronze as a solo queue? I can't ever find a group of people I like to play with consistently, so I usually play alone. I used to be 1900 and fell down to 1100. I feel like I'm being punished. The most noticeable thing is I feel like there are a LOT more leavers, so it's incredibly difficult to win. On top of that, my teammates are doing the dumbest things, like five DPS, and of course there's your typical Widow/Hanzo players with a 25% win rate. Also, it's very rare anyone talks on mic, and if they do it's usually to complain. Is there any way to win these games as solo queue or do I have to find a group?"
s_2593_479,I'm trans mtf almost 4 months hrt. I'm having issues of feeling worthless and like I'm not feminine enouth or cute. Is this a normal thing to feel? It makes me very frustrated and I've been suffering from depression to where I've been cutting my arms and its evolved to where I'm able to make myself bleed now. What should I do?
s_1605_228,Reached it today for the first time too! Really proud of myself
s_1899_440,"Anxiety sucks, every. But more-so today. Well, first of, let me start by saying, it's nice to know that I'm not the only one here. Knowing you guys are facing your own battles AND WINNING, gives me strength. Let me share my story now. I'm a nursing student and my clinical instructor saw I was having some anxiety and clinical. So she set up a 4 part plan to help me. The last step was to go into a room that REALLY scares me...this is the the room where I started having panic attacks two years back. I agreed with 3 of the 4 step plan and told her that I was really uncomfortable with the 4th step. That it wouldn't help me and that anxiety doesn't just go away that easily. You can't just put someone in front of their stimulant and just expect things to get better, nevertheless, she did. I went into that room today...and I was doing well until half way through. Then one word from an instructor on just turning an IV bag upside down and I froze. I was useless. I became excessively hot, sweating, shaking finger, heart palpitations, the works. I'm just so frustrated because I've done so well so far and this one thing brought me down. Just came for a little support and ranting here. Thanks guys."
s_1907_9,"My boyfriend of three years has depression and I'm struggling what what to do? He was diagnosed 1 month ago and given anti-depressants after feeling low for a few months (which has been happening now and then for four years but he has never been to the doctors). When he was diagnosed he told me he needed space to sort his head out and for me to not talk to him for a few weeks, no-contact. I obliged and after 1 week he said he didn't like the thought of me being upset and it was all he could focus on so we decided to start texting again and he came and saw me, but he said he didn't know if he wanted to see me again for a while. I then saw him that weekend for about two hours, and have seen him once a week since then usually for a night and a few hours the next day. He actually seems completely normal and happy when I have seen him which is nice, we laugh like we always do. Good things are happening with his job and he is doing really well and has applied for a promotion. I am not seeing him throughout the week, and he has not come round to see my family in months - I have gone to see his. He has forgotten our anniversary and I gave him a card but he didn't get me one or offer to pay for the dinner we reluctantly went out for (something he would usually offer on our anniversary). He has been going on nights out with his friends. I feel constantly on edge and nervous he's going to stop speaking to me or going to decide he can't see me. I think I'm having a hard time thinking that the depression has caused the way he has been acting because when I see him he is normal and excited about his job and just not different. We haven't had sex for about 7 weeks because of the depression and now the anti-depressants have taken away his sex-drive. When we do see eachother we cuddle and it's nice but it's not the same intimacy and I don't know when his sex-drive is going to be back...
I am really struggling with knowing what to do, I miss him and feel so so lonely even though he is in my life, and because I feel like this I want to confide in him but I can't. I have have such high anxiety levels at the minute, little things keep getting to me. This all may sound selfish but it's just hit me how down I have been for the last month doing everything on his terms and praying he feels better and wants me in his life still."
s_2448_297,"Thank you. I find it really hard to get up in the morning, I find myself getting anxious the night before counting the hours of sleep I'll get. I can sleep 12 hours solid and still want more sleep. Ironically, I stay up late because I don't want to sleep. Hope things work out for you too!"
s_1514_914,"Nobody At The Wheel I was out on the street the day the first driverless truck came through town. The sun watched us through the overcast sky with an aloof white glare, arcing dull glints across that smooth steel face - a bank of chrome and black sensors glimmered where the cabin should have been. It looked every bit like a metal snail pulling a shipping container. A few of the men around me grinned and clinked beer cans. Several muttered epithets. Our town was small, but we had our claim to fame: we were a town of truck drivers, through and through. Everyone knew the best drivers came from our stock, and coming from around here meant the best pay and the best radio company while on the road. We were out in the middle of nowhere, but we'd made this junction our own. When the company decided to try out driverless trucks, our little town nearly went into riot mode. It took quite some time to work out the compromise: the drivers would shift to maintenance and consultation if the driverless truck tests were successful, and we would all keep our pay. It made sense - the company couldn't afford engineers in far out places like this one, and we knew our trucks better than any college man. So we took the offer. Some saw this as a lifetime pension. Sit on our asses, drink beer, and take care of our trucks when they rolled into town? Sign me up! Some had enjoyed the work. The drive, they said, was time alone. Time on the road, they said, was time away from home, away from the screaming kids and the old ball and chain. They joked, but I knew what they meant. Sittin' around all day I wasn't sure what I'd do with myself. I got the Internet. That's what I did. Started learning to read and write a little better. I'd seen pensions gutted and slashed in the news my whole life, and didn't trust that our situation would last forever. Time to get educated and get out, I told myself. I just didn't know how little time I had
That one truck rolled through every couple days like clockwork. The guys, they clamored for something to do, so the company deemed the first test a success, and sent out ten more. We had one or two driverless trucks coming through each day, and it seemed like every arrival was a little town block party. Kids danced by gushing fire hydrants to beat the summer heat, old men drank their Old Milwaukees in rickety nylon seats under the trees, and me and the boys hung around hitting on the kids' mothers. I suppose we should have seen it coming, but it was still a shock when the first dog got run over. A kid threw a ball into the street during the festivities, and that was that. His pet dog ran right up and got crushed under the wheel. The damn truck didn't even realize what it had done, and we were all horrified. The whole town came out for that meeting at the town hall. The slick-suited business guy heard our concerns, and promised the designers would look into it. Two weeks later, the trucks rolling through town looked a little different - bigger, more cargo space. Every now and then, they still ran over dogs, but we figured they'd tried, and we just had to keep a tighter leash on the pets. They said that, without a driver, the trucks were more efficient, so they kept getting slightly bigger every few weeks. It wasn't long before half the pets in the area had been run over or permanently moved inside. There were no more parties when the trucks came in. Parents didn't want their kids playing near the damn things, and good on them. It didn't help. The Dyers' kid went out chasing a ball, just like that damn dog. The draft on these bigger trucks was stronger, and he got sucked right under. It crushed his leg, and not two days later we heard he would never walk again. The Dyers couldn't afford the hospital bill, but we all banded together and gave what we could 'til the lawsuit came through. The company settled quickly, and promised a redesign on the trucks to make sure it would never happen again. Two weeks later, the Dyers got flush rich, and moved away. Two weeks after that, they stopped returning our messages. Two weeks after that, the trucks grew even bigger. The sensors on the front had grown spiky, and the look of these huge machines and their twice-as-long cargo compartments enormous, imposing, to put my grown vocabulary to use. They bent in the middle when they turned, that's how long they'd become. There were more of them, too, rumbling through almost all hours of the day and night. Though there were more of them, they stopped for maintenance less often. Our paychecks kept coming in, but the work was drying up, and that made honest men antsy. I won't even describe the antics the dishonest men started getting up to at the bars and the town gentleman's establishment. The center of town became known for drunken violence and sexual harassment... I was glad that I lived out on the edge, far from that rowdy crowd. Bitterness about the trucks had grown, but our resentment exploded after the first death. This time, it was a full-grown adult, old man Richter. He'd gone out for a walk without his glasses, but how the hell he didn't hear the damn bellowing things on the road, that's beyond me. We didn't even have time to organize a protest before we found out firsthand how the old man had gone out. The drafts under these barreling monstrosities were little tornadoes, pulling things up like a vacuum. On our way to the town hall, one of our group got pulled right up under and spun around the back wheels like a ketchup-splattered rag doll. He fell out behind, and we almost ran to go help him - but the next truck trampled over him, and left nothing more than spaghetti and meat sauce. That's when I knew we were in trouble. Real trouble. This was two deaths now, and the town hall was boarded up. The mayor and his slick-suited buddy were on vacation, with no return date. There'd been rumors of the mayor coming into money, but we didn't know for sure at the time. It was an odd feeling, trying to live in a community under siege. You got your paycheck, and the food's all in the stores, and water's running but everyone is quiet, and everything is dimmer. A little gloomier. You just sit around each day waiting for news. Did we get through the day without a death? Yeah, usually. Sometimes a week without an accident. You start to relax a little - and somebody dies. We were on the phones the whole time, calling up lawyers, calling up police, calling anyone who might listen. We couldn't afford good lawyers, but the ambulance-chasers we finally did hire launched a dozen lawsuits - which were all immediately tied up in court. We were told the process would take years. No help there. The police came around a few times, saw a splattered body or two, and gave us a few sympathetic comments like ""aw shit"" and ""wow, have you got a lawyer on this?"" but there was nobody to arrest, since the trucks were driverless. Couldn't shut down one truck without shutting them all down, and that would cost a ton of money and jobs. All we could do, they said, was wait for the lawyers to get something done. Because of the siege, whatever tension we'd had with our local illegals was right out. I let the Jimenez kid stay at my house after his parents tried to hit up the grocery store and got crushed between a driverless truck and the tight walls of the back alley they'd been using to avoid the main road. That was the worst part: the number of trucks kept increasing until the main road had trucks on it at all times, in endless rows that never stopped. It was eerie, seeing them all move like a train like that, all moving at the same speed, never braking, never swerving The town had been split in half - and, without warning, excess trucks had begun using the smaller roads to optimize their route. Trucks rumbled by my driveway day in and day out. By then, I was spending most of my time hiding in the house, curtains shut, playing some old Nintendo games with the Jimenez kid and trying not to think about the constant subtle shaking underneath my feet. Boredom was our constant enemy, but we kept busy, kept challenging each other, and we got by and kept our heads. What members of the community that could still reach other banded together. We were hardly beaten, not by a longshot. This was our town, and we would survive. With the mayor's office vacated, the municipal water eventually went out - but the illegals on our side of town showed us all how to set up raincatch barrels, and how to clean the water for drinking. The same police who'd come by and been unable to help us soon showed up in full SWAT gear and raided many of the nearby homes. The illegals all got deported, and the neighbors that had helped them were forced to cut deals for jail time or face huge minimum sentences at trial. Turns out, the mayor had sold the area's water rights to some foreign company before he'd left, so collecting rainwater the way we did was against the law. Much of the rest of our little community tried blocking the road after that, but the trucks just went around, hitting more people. Use of makeshift explosives followed, and they did manage to destroy one truck and block traffic for nearly a day. The SWAT teams showed up and hauled them all off soon after. Of the friends that went to prison, one died inside shortly after entering. The rest, I heard, were put to work building parts for the driverless trucks. Turns out, the company had a contract with the prison. Bitter pill to swallow, that. I'd hid the kid from the police, but he and I were one of only a few people left on our side of town. The surviving kids had all been snapped up by Child Protective Services now that their parents were dead or in jail, so he had nobody to play with, and I spent most of my time making our survival a game. Hide from the trucks, I'd challenge. Find the hidden food, I'd dare him. He could fit in pipes under the road and cross to parts of town I couldn't reach. He did come back with food much of the time, but he never spoke of the things he saw in fact, he stopped speaking altogether after his seventh trip to the inner parts of town. I can remember the exact moment that I realized he and I were the last ones left. A truck swerved to avoid a wild dog - well shit, looked like they finally fixed that flaw - and barreled straight through a nearby house. By then, the monstrous trucks had become armored in response to our explosives, and the back had become enormously long and massive to carry as much cargo as possible. The house crumpled and tore apart like paper, and that truck kept on going like nothing had happened. Only, my friend Don had been inside he'd entertained us with military stories every day, optimistic and hardy to the very end. After finding his body in the wreckage of his house, I knew there was no longer any safe place to be. We were out of food, out of water, and out of places to hide. I was much thinner from hunger by then, and found that I could fit through the pipes under the road if I squeezed up enough and tried not to breathe in anything foul. The kid didn't want to go back to the other parts of town anymore, but he had no choice but to follow me, and I wasn't about to leave my hometown without seeing if anyone else was left. Many times, I thought I was going to die in that rumbling, vibrating, cramped pipe under the road, but I managed somehow. It was clear, once I'd pushed through the muck, why the kid had stopped speaking. The center of town was a charnel house, splattered with dried blood and torn apart bodies. Worse: most had not been killed by the trucks. They'd killed each other once the driverless walls had gotten too tight to cross killed each other for food, for water, and seemingly, at the end for entertainment. Don had always said that unchecked boredom was the true bringer of nightmare in extreme circumstances. I'd always wondered what he meant, but now I knew
Without a job, boredom had become agony. We'd been lucky, being on the outskirts of town we'd kept ourselves entertained, and gone into the forest to hunt for food often. These men, women, and children had had *nowhere to go*, and they'd been surrounded by violence, hunger, and thirst more than any other emotion, boredom had brought hell on earth. I thought to cover the kid's eyes, but I knew he'd already seen this seven times before. The main road was strikingly clean, swept constantly by truck drafts. I even saw a motorist driving between the trucks, oblivious to the death and gore hidden just behind the corners of each building. To him, this was just another small village he was passing through... I screamed for help, but he couldn't hear us over the constant roar of the trucks. Finally, crawling through more pipes, we reached the other side of town. I emerged from the filth and clambered up onto a nicely paved road. Staring around, I saw lots of nice new buildings. Fresh paint, cheery signs, large open roads bigger, newer houses there was even a large mall down at the end of the street. The kid and I walked around in shock, wondering when the hell the old town had been bulldozed and built over. How long had we been surviving in the dirt, cut off from society? Sharply dressed men and women escorted well-behaved children around the pleasant neighborhood. How are you? Long time no see!"" I turned and saw Bill Dyers walking over from a nearby playground. His kid continued playing, his prosthetic leg hardly noticeable. ""Isn't it great what they've done with the town?"" Bill asked, grinning widely. He lowered his head to show me the top. "" Notice anything different? I'll tell you. I got hair implants! No more baldness!"" He didn't seem to notice that the Jimenez kid and I were covered in dirt, filth, blood, and other unspeakable signs of the nightmare we'd endured but a nearby cop certainly noticed. ""You can't be here dressed like that!"" he barked. "" If you're homeless, I'll have to take you in."" ""Oh no,"" Bill told the officer, still cheery. "" These are friends of mine. They can stay with me!"" ""That true?"" the officer asked me, his tone stern. I wasn't about to go to prison. I would kill myself before I helped build those godless trucks. "" Um, yes sir. We'll clean up right away, sir."" The officer regarded us both for a minute, then leaned down to look the kid in the eye. "" Yo hablo ingles?"" I gulped. One word of Spanish, and he was gone - but the kid just stared at him. ""He doesn't speak,"" I told him. ""He yours?"" His mother died in childbirth."" ""Sorry to hear that."" The officer coughed uncomfortably. "" Well, clean up, get off the street. Don't let me see you like this again. If I see you sleeping out here, it's off to lockup with you both."" ""Yes sir."" I relaxed as he walked away. Bill laid his arm around my shoulders. "" Don't think I've forgotten about you all, banding together for our hospital bill like that. You can stay with me 'til you get on your feet. We're all friends here, right?"" ""Right,"" I answered, following him toward his nice, clean house. He had no idea. None of these people had any idea. For survival's sake, I kept my burning fury hidden. There was nobody to blame - no conspiracy, no plan behind what had happened. The more I researched the workings behind the events that had destroyed my town and killed or imprisoned my entire community, the more I realized that nobody was even aware it had happened. They'd heard about the first dog that had died, and that had caused weeks of national outrage. They'd heard about the Dyers kid and his crushed leg, and that had gotten brief national attention and lots of sympathy. They'd heard a clamor about a water rights trial. They hadn't really understood. They'd heard clamor about some hicks blowing up a driverless truck. They hadn't cared. It'd become a running joke on late-night television. But nobody knew the true web of horrors we'd experienced. The company didn't even fully realize. All they'd seen was a volatile workforce fighting over paychecks. The legal department had handled the lawsuits until the plaintiffs had all died or gone to prison. The payroll department had stopped checks one-by-one for those who had died or gone to prison. The maintenance department had replaced the workers as they'd left. Eventually, the whole thing had just gone away. The higher-ups had seen nothing past the initial labor compromise, and most of them had been replaced over time anyway. There was nobody left at the company who even knew the name of our town. That's the part that fills me with more bitterness than rage: there's nobody to blame. I can't get revenge. Nobody *did* anything to us. No one person meant us harm. No one person wanted anything more than comfort and profit. When you endure something like that, you want to know who did it. You want to blame someone. I can't find anyone to blame. When the Jimenez kid - when *Ricky* finally starts speaking again, when he asks me who was responsible for the hell we went through, I can honestly tell him: nobody. That's the scariest part. The system is bigger than any of us. The system barrels on. Horrific tragedies can just *happen* without anyone meaning them to because there's nobody at the wheel."
s_2946_236,my libido has gone down since using it also
s_65_110,"I am scared I will not be a successful man in the future I just dout if I will get 90% above or pass in class 10th boards to be able to learn engineering and I doubt if I will be able to find a job and be successful in life... and this all stuff is coming to my mind because now I am close to 10th and the rest of important stuff... I am very scared... I just dont get good marks even now but sometimes I so get some good marks but that's when my brain agrees to. I just want my brain to stop being careless and study and work hard for this time.... I am just very scared for my future and I think I won't be able to achieve what I want to.... any tips on how to improve my Condition on studies would be very helpful for me... Edit:- My parents didn't force me to do anything, they said i can do whatever i want and i like computer stuff so i decided to do that when i grow up and i have been told by my parents that i should get 90% above not to pass, but to get a seat in a good college where I can properly learn Engeenering."
s_1605_520,"That was thorough and appeared to come from the heart. As a teenager, I was guilty of this same behavior. We were always trying to one up each other saying edgy things we didnt actually believe. As I got older, I slowly realized this sort of thing wasnt appropriate even in a private, satirical context. Chris should have come to this realization well before his 30s. However, Im glad he has come around. If he is actually talking to professionals, to me that shows hes dedicated to being a better person, not just apologizing to make this go away. I dont expect (nor do I want) Alestorm to become a social justicey band. But I think chris using his platform to occasionally spread positive, inclusive messages would help me get from mostly accepting his apology to fully accepting it."
s_1269_845,Mine was less insomnia and more trouble staying asleep. We eventually added seroquel to help with my anxiety and keep me asleep throughout the night
s_1175_1278,"It's been awhile /r/depression, I just need to thank you guys for giving me that push. ( So this is the story of how I got over my depression, and your guy's help in all of this, if you decide to read this wall of text then thanks! It was the tenth of December, and I just turned 16 on the third. I didn't bother to get my license because I had nobody. I had a lack of friends, lack of motivation, and I just wanted to die. On the ninth I cut myself two times in the morning before school, and wore my favorite sweater to cover it up. When I got home I tried again. It felt like I had nothing more to do, and that was it. I was a hermit, and the only place I felt safe or happy was my room in the basement. I even bought a couch, and a bunch of instruments to occupy my time. This was all on an old account, but I remember asking you guys about how to talk to people or get friends. I remember one of you said I should try talking to girls. This was weird because usually girls made fun of me and pushed me away. You guys said it would really help, and you were right! There was one person who really got me out of this, and of course you guys too :D.
I had been talking to and texting this girl from my science class for awhile beforehand, at least two months. She was really the only person who showed me genuine kindness at the time, and it felt amazing. I spiked up my hair like I like to do, put on my second favorite sweater, and got really excited. I asked her to go for a walk at her favorite place, the water tower hill. Eventually it became my favorite place to be too! She wasn't allowed to have guys over at the time so we met at the hill whenever we could. * Sorry for rambling on back to the story...*
So I remember rolling up my sleeves because it was either really hot outside, or I was nervous and really sweaty. Of course stupid me, I forgot about my cuts. When we met at the bottom of the hill she saw my cuts. I started to cry, a lot. I got embarrassed and almost ran away, that's how it always was when people saw my cuts or scars. But she grabbed my hand, it was a funny feeling and the first time I ever really held a girls hand. She told me it was okay and then she hugged me too. That was also the first genuine hug I had ever gotten (honestly my parents didn't/don't give two shits about me.) When we got to the top of the hill, I asked her if she would think differently of me. I remember thinking, *why did I just ask?* and thought about the usual, ""Well duh stupid emo"" or something along those lines. No matter what I hope until the day I die, the way she smiled at me and said that it didn't matter. That it didn't change anything. That she really really liked me. I remember hugging her really really tight, and her hugging me really really tight, and it felt great. I wanted it to last forever. The whole time we walked back to the bottom of the hill we held hands really tight. It was the first time I had smiled for more than fifteen minutes to be honest. When we got to the bottom of the hill she stopped and looked in my eyes like before. She said, ""No matter what you can't never (her grammar is a little shotty at times but I think it's cute) ever hurt yourself like that again."" I remember tearing up a lot, but I was still smiling. I agreed, of course I would! We hugged again and she was off to her house before her parents got mad. The next few months we met up more and more. We talked at school **way** more than before too. She made me [this] () bracelet too so I'd, ""Always be happy"" and to remind me to never break our promise. Over January I met her parents, and even went bowling with them and stuff. They had excepted me, and I felt like I belonged. Fast forward to February, we were hanging out at her house and of course Valentines day was rolling around. It was to the point where everybody knew we had a thing, or were together. At that point we never really made it official, we just had a lot of classes together and we were always together if we could be. By the time Valentines day was upon us I asked her to go for a walk, and I asked her out at the top of the hill. ( Cliche but I'm not creative so whatever lol) Then I had my first kiss! Over March though, things got bad. Her birthday was on the 13th, but I didn't remember it, I made an anti Semitic joke at dinner (turns out her father is Jewish), and we grew apart somehow. I felt sad, but I also didn't. As long as she was happy, and as long as we could still be friends. Over April she began talking to [this] (<URL>) neckbeard guy and we all hung out together a lot. I had moved on to a different girlfriend, but things weren't the same. I think I have to make a continued post sorry. Edit: I FORGOT A PICTURE OF THE BRACELET D:. Oh well on the next post. [Part 2] (<URL>)"
s_1768_175,"Continuing the saga of my(f34) husband(m32) not loving me. More confused than angry right now. ( Links to previous posts in text). Original post: <URL>
First update: <URL>
Second update: <URL>
Ok. It has now been three and a half weeks since he intially told me that he no longer loved me. We have talked and talked, but I am becoming more and more confused by his attitude toward me, the kids, the future. He is swinging between being very open emotionally, talking things through in great detail, what he feels about us moving back to the UK. Then the next day, he is grumpy, ignoring me, neglecting his time with the kids, flaking out on plans to do things with the kids. One day he cannot do enough to help out, the next I am having to ask him to come and say goodnight to the kids because he can't be bothered to come upstairs. He dedecates most of his time to playing on his PC and working out. Just saying that makes me realize that he is still such an adolescent. I don't think he has ever lost the mentality that he is his own person and he can do whatever he likes. Yes, that was true, but I believe that when you have children, you have to have a balance in your life towards what you give to your family, and what you give to yourself. He told me the other day, when he was in a bad mood, that he feels that he has to support me too much (an example was having to come and get me when my car broke down) and because of my health problems he feels he has to look after me too much. He told me that I was living my life like I was in the 1950's and that men aren't expected to look after women like that anymore. He seems to have neglected the fact that I work full time, look after the kids for 75% of the time on my own, he goes out at least twice a week for social stuff, and that tomorrow I am having to run him around because his car broke down! Yes I do have health issues, but I have had them since we met, and they are actually much better now than when we first got married! I had to apologise to him earlier this week, because tomorrow I need him to miss his games session after work because I have therapy and I cannot get anyone else to have the kids (it is around dinner time, so kind of hard to arrange pick up and drop off). I feel that I should not be having to apologize for going to a session that was the only one left this week when I booked it two weeks ago. I asked my therapist to reshedule, but her calendar is full and she really wanted to see me this week. He has know about the appt since I made it, but at no point did he offer to come home to have the kids. He keeps asking me to stay. But not as a couple, as two people living in the same house who have kids together, but no relationship. He keeps telling me how much better it would be for me and the kids to stay. He says I could save up money from my job before moving back, the kids wouldn't have to move etc. And the more he says it, the more I feel like I am the bad guy here, taking the kids away from everything they know and love. Yes, I could do that. But is it worth the pain? I keep feeling so confused about what is the right thing to do. But how can I stay? If I could be sure that everything would be ok and stable for the kids, then I would. But on days like today, I can see that this is not a healthy environment for me or the kids. I am starting to feel that he is manipulating me to make me stay. To make me feel guilty for hurting the kids by moving. To get rid of his guilt over the choices he has made. To make me the bad guy making the descisions. I really feel he is forcing my hand here. And it is really starting to affect my ability to judge things properly. I no longer am sure that I can make the best decision for the kids. What if I am making the wrong choice and ruining my kids lives because of this? My friend was over today and saw for herself how he can make me feel bad for wanting something for me and the kids. I asked him if he had arranged a lift for the morning (he is prone to forget stuff like that) and he told me no, he would take my car 'if that was ok' and just do a half day to get home. I told him that I had plans for the morning with the kids, and he told me that he 'only needs it for half a day' . He just had no concept that he would be making me and the kids stay home when I had promised to take them out. I told him I would drive him in and out, and then he started demanding to know what time I would pick him up as he 'had to look after the kids for me'. My friend, who knows the situation, was just shocked to see first hand how he has no idea about how his actions affect others. He says that a lot. That he is doing stuff 'for me'. Not doing it because he is their dad, but as a favour. So that I owe him. **TL;DR** Am I being guilt tripped into staying by a man who tells me he doesn't love me? **edit** I meant to add that because I saw my OBGYN last week and told her the situation, she ran a full STD panel on me, just in case. Everything came back negative, so I have that going for me, which is nice."
s_2089_388,"OK I have been using this lately for withdrawls in between my doses. I am taking pills-oxy or hydro. In the early morning I had been getting the classic symptoms-jerky body, restless legs, basically couldn't sleep and I did NOT want to waste my precious limited suppy of real opiates so I was able to procure a script from my doc. Took 2-3 around 2am and voila no more symptoms whatsoever. I can now get a great mornings sleep. Other than that, the times I did take Trams they made me a bit nauseous but I was riding in a car and hadn't had much to eat. As far as recreational value, if you have little to no opiate tolerance I bet they would be kinda cool."
s_469_285,"I am a hardened 39 year old man.. ..but sometimes when I smoke, I cry like a little girl. I get emotional too easy when I'm high. Edit: When I'm watching a cool man movie like Field of Dreams, or watching the US women win today."
s_1609_497,"The one thing that really made me happy is now making me miserable... I'm currently in high school and plan on pursuing a carrer in musical theatre. It has always been what I wanted to do. I know it's difficult and very likely that I will always be poor, but I'm okay with that because it made me happy and nothing else did. Recently my sister told me that I was a bad actor, and went into vivid detail of why she thinks so. She was angry with me at the time, but has never taken it back. Now every time I'm with my voice teacher I become insecure with myself and feel horrible for the next few days. I don't know what to do. I just feel like I have no idea what I'm doing and that I'm making a mistake... I don't know, I just feel awful. Like I said before, this was really the only thing that I am happy pursuing, but now every time I try I break down. I just feel like I'm never going to be happy with performing again. I'll just feel horrible afterward like I do after my lessons. I don't know, maybe it's all kind of ridiculous, but I feel like my world's falling apart even though I know I shouldn't let her get to me. Thanks for reading. EDIT: Thank you all for your support and advice. I do want to say that I know very well that I will have a lot if criticism coming my way. The only reason it really bothered me is that this is my sister that has always supported me and been my biggest fan. I can take criticism, I just feel like she betrayed me as my sister and friend. She used to always be there for me and now I feel like she's against me. It wasn't the criticism itself. I just thought that needed to be said. Thanks again."
s_2237_975,"I masturbate once in the morning and once at night. Sometimes my SO helps... sometimes not. At night it helps me fall asleep. in the morning I seem to be in a better mood and less irritable during the day. This has lead to great increases in my job performance. Jerk it twice a day, dudes. You know... so you can win."
s_1030_1290,I am not a bad person but I can't do anything right. Everything I do backfires or just falls limp and turns to dust. All the work I have done gets me nowhere. I am surrounded by success. I have been open about my intentions but not nearly as open as I should be. I assume you can understand what those intentions are. Everyone who cares or pretends to I don't know. It is not fair I continue to worry about that. I am very tired.
s_353_308,"I am wired, having eaten almost NOTHING for 2 days! This is literally crazy, I could have never imaged this level of energy having eaten less than 1500 Cals over two days! In fact, yesterday I had probably less than 1000 and today, far less, maybe only 200, yet I have a lot of energy! It gets crazier though. Last night, I was in bed and I couldn't sleep! Like AT ALL, not a minute of sleep. I pulled an all-nighter because I was scared I was becoming dependent on sleep aids (I use 2x/week I'd guess). So I just endured it, even though I tried REALLY hard to sleep. ( e.g. I meditated and stuff) So I was focused mostly on doing the 23/1 hr fasting but I accidentally triggered (the legendary) KETOSIS MODE and found out thanks to this article that this is pretty normal. [ <URL>](<URL>) Kinda, like NEO from the matrix, my body was just not used to using this kind of fuel source, its sued to having insane levels of sugar readily abundant all the time, but now, its burning CLEAN energy, my own stored fat. ( I'm doing this to burn about 10 pounds of visceral gut fat to look like greek God again hopefully) For anyone trying the warrior diet, 20/4 hr fasting or Keto. Your likely to experience this, mental high, and honestly right now it kinda feels like that cause I just passed the 2nd wave on intense hunger and somehow it just feels awesome. ( Kicking that fat in the teeth you know, or so I like to think)"
s_2135_7,"Getting my ADHD diagnosis and meds was the best thing that ever happened to me. I've had depression several times and always been anxious and felt like I was not dumb, but that I was dumb if that makes sense? I've had toxic relationships because I never felt good enough due to me being ex bad at listening at times, distracted, ""lazy"" with house work and just extremely self conscious, which made me feel like everything I did was wrong. I've had a hard time following through on projects, could not focus in school or do homework, even tho I was bright enough and had a lot of sexual issues as well. Last summer/fall I got a major depression. The worst I ever had. I never took medication for my depressions, as a friend of mine took bad antidepressants and got all fucked, so that scared me. But this time I was SO miserable, that I just wanted it to be fixed and after struggling with our mental healthcare system (I live in Denmark) for months and being send around to new psychiatrists who needed to interview me for 1-2 hours from scratch each time and then decide I was not their field, I finally got to an amazing psychiatrist. I asked all the others, if I could possibly be diagnosed with ADHD, but they all specialized in depression and send me around. I did not even ask my psychiatrist about it, she just said that I might have ADHD and we needed to look into that and then I got my diagnosis and started drugs. The drugs changed my life. One brand made me extremely nauseous, but the ones I have now only have a few side effects (I do not have a lot of appetite and used to be eating and snacking ALL THE TIME, so this thing with eating when not hungry and remembering to eat is a bit of a challenge, but it is working out now). But I do have a much easier time focusing. Both on smaller tasks at hand, like reading an e-mail or making coffee without burning myself, but also on organizing my stuff, cleaning and my job. I also feel calmer and fresher at the same time, which make social events and being around my partner much easier and I feel more connected to my body and more present, which makes it easier for me to be the person I want to be. Both in terms of job and social/romantic realtionships. I also sleep better and are much less anxious. I still have a bit of ADHD symptoms of course, but I fell much less embarrassed and in control of myself and my diagnosis have also learned me to cope with it mentally. To give myself permission to be different and not aim to do everything perfect all the time. I am working on the stuff, I want to change (like talking a lot), but also accepting that it is a part of me and that I have to live with that I don't use my diagnosis as an excuse, but as a reason. I'm not perfect and that is okay. I try my best and don't always succeed, but I do try my best, and that is the best I can do. I also try to explain, what I am experiencing to my friends, partner and family, so they can understand better, that when I ex talk for one hour about something completely boring and they tell me something important and I don't listen, it is not because I feel more important than them or do not have any interest in them they just need to tell me; ""Now I want to say something important"" and I'll focus on listening. And I am aware, that this is something I do and I work to change it, but beating myself up about it all the time, even tho I hate it, just gives me anxiety and makes it even harder to control myself. I also feel much less overwhelmed/fussy/like my head is melting after having to focus or meet people. I sleep better at night. I feel better about myself and have more energy to change or do stuff in my life, to make it better applying for a challenging, but interesting job or just organising my clothes, so it is easier to find what I need. And I am in a healthy relationship, where I am not being a childish bitch or being exploited or dependent. I just feel happy, calm and WORTHY. I've never felt worthy before and I have dated TRASH, that was definitely less worthy than I... I would like to end by saying, that my meds stopped working hours ago, as I had an early morning and here it is now late night. So while writing this I am both tired and my ADHD is full-blown active, which might be why I wrote so much and almost don't remember what I wrote. Sorry about that. But yeah, the diagnosis and the meds DEFINATELY changed my life for the better. And I've only been taking them for half a year, but that half year has been the best ever. I feel so much in control of myself and my destiny or at least in control of accepting the stuff and can't control."
s_1958_921,"Just diagnosed with Hogkin's Lymphoma... Just came back from my post-op appointment from having lymph node tissue in the left side of my neck removed, and the doctor has informed me that I have Hogkin's Lymphoma. I'm 26 (27 this march) and I've had the symptoms of fatigue easily since I was 16ish. I haven't had a chest X-ray, or PET scans or even staging done yet. I have another lump on the inside of my left leg, so best case scenario I'm stage 2 unless it's just a fibrosis (unlikely). I'm not afraid of death but I cry constantly over the thought of my daughter having to lose her daddy. Someone talk to me. Edit, March 10th 2011; It was localized to only that lymph node! I get to undergo some localized radiation therapy and basically just have to make sure I go to the doctor on a regular enough basis to ensure that it doesn't come back again!"
s_2035_39,"Yes, I can second that those side effects generally start to go away after 2-3 weeks. I take 150 mg Welbutrin + 100 mg lamictal. I dont get the agitation anymore but I did in the beginning."
s_1127_16,"What's the psychoanalytical explanation behind anhedonia So here is the case.. It's been nearly 4 years, since i really don't feel like myself..I am still interested in activities that interested me before,but my emotions are so weak and i am much less sensitive to particular things/people. I know that anhedonia is a complete loss of pleasure,so i think right now i am experiencing mild version of it(but believe me,its been worse). Also i feel like imagination and abstract thinking disappeared with it. So i was interested that's psychoanalytical theory saying about it, Because i strongly support psychoanalytical therapy and its actually helping me to understand some of my phenomenons and symptoms"
s_2038_21,"How 2 not feel like a fuck up Hey r/selfimprovemnt! I know this is a difficult and rooted issue I have but I need to starting turning my life around and I'm hoping i can start here with this post. All my life I have struggled with my insecurities and the lack of confidence which has resulted in me to get no where in life, which in turn makes me feel like a constant failure. currently a 19m who only has about 5 friends. I also go to community college and already have 4 W's under my name(I dropped a semester due to a break up with my girlfriend) . Im constantly broke despite having a job since the age of 18. I also just got unemployed for failing to pass my ptcb which is my pharmacy tech test. And to finally add the icing to the cake my ex girlfriend who used to be the only sun shine in my life is living the time of her life attending one of the best schools In the states. I also hate the fact that she's the only girl I hangout with.! Even though I enjoy her company it makes me feel like a pathetic loser when I hangout with her due to the fact that she is makes friends constantly at school( while getting hit on a dating other people), she also has a nice job, and is acing school. How do I turn my life around I'm tired feeling like a loser and letting people down. I struggle with depression... but sometimes I feel like that's an excuse now."
s_2606_400,"By the way, thanks for the chat. My sleeping patterns are all out of whack. The daylight savings time change isn't helping either!"
s_949_913,"I get what you're saying. I suffered through depression for most of my senior year of high school. I honestly considered killing myself a couple times. I was lucky in that the first antidepressant i tried with my doctor worked. If you have access to modern medical care then I think that you should try every antidepressant available to you before you consider killing yourself. At the same time, I recognize that what I went through is no life worth living. If you've exhausted your options and can't get out of that depressive state then, and only then, do I think you should be given the opportunity to commit assisted suicide."
s_1499_213,"That first revelatory moment of ""holy shit! I'm not totally fucking miserable! This is fucking awesome! AHHHHHH!!111!!"" is hilarious. I basically started crying and then I was like ""Why am I crying, I am happy?"" But emotions are tricky bitches. The wave of emotions coming in at any time is usually !!!! but sometimes it's more like ???? And I totally get what you mean about a crutch. I got to the point where I was just like ""whelp, without this I will probably just slowly get heavier and heavier and be miserable and ruin my younger years with self hate, so... might as well try it!"""
s_1019_797,"I eat meat, but it's far from being purely for survival purposes. I could easily survive as a vegetarian, but I choose to eat delicious meat. Should I face harsh punishment for this?"
s_1933_175,"Losing my mind Ever since my last (and only) serious boyfriend dumped me almost two years ago, I've had a feeling that I was going to die alone. It's not one of those dramatic thoughts like, oh god I was dumped now no one will ever love me, sort of things. Just a quiet realization. I'm going to die alone. My history with romance is pretty shitty. The first guy I ever had a crush on admitted to me that he liked me... He just liked my friend better. The first boy I dated dumped me after three weeks, in public, in such a nonchalant way I can only guess he was never actually attached to me. I dated a girl the next year; she dumped me after four days because she decided she wasn't bisexual after all. I caught her making out with our mutual female friend a week later. I lost my virginity to a guy who was horny and I was convenient. He got off and kicked me out. I started having sex with a guy who said I was attractive, but he wasn't interested in a relationship with me six months later, just because I was sad and lonely and would take any attention I could get. After he got sick of me, I avoided romance for a while. I went on a date or two with guys I met on plentyoffish when I was feeling particularly lonely, but it never went past one date. Then I met a guy and started dating him. I moved in with him fairly quickly, which was a huge mistake. After a year long, turbulent, emotionally (sometimes physically) abusive relationship, he finally dumped me after I tried to kill myself, because he decided that if I was trying to kill myself, then he must not be making me happy. My most recent foray into romance is one that is still hurting right now. Basically, about six months ago, I fell for a guy who lives overseas; he claimed to like me too, but couldn't do a relationship, let alone a long distance one (whereas, at this point in my life, I would prefer one; physical contact makes me ill). Then a few days ago, I find out he's dating a girl (I know her as well; we all met in the same place, but they happened to live very close to each other) and is hiding it from me. I'm still trying to get over it. It's like, I know I didn't have a chance with him, but I didn't think anyone else did either. That made it okay somehow. It's not just that, either. I get a lot of crushes on people (little, fleeting ones; nothing like how I felt about him) that quickly get stomped into the dirt. Sometimes I feel like emotions aren't even worth it. I feel worthless in general. I've got no talents, I can't keep interest in one thing long enough to develop a talent, either. I can't hold down a job because I have panic attacks about going to work. I can't meet people because I have crippling social anxiety. I'm a burden on my mother, I don't qualify for any sort of disability (I'm trying now, but it's not looking good), I have no income. I'm useless. I can't take any classes at college because I'm too easily overwhelmed. I don't want to be alive anymore. I don't want to commit suicide. I just want to die in my sleep. I want to stop existing. I'm so tired of being so sad all the time. What is the point of me? I can't diet because I have no will power. I can't take care of myself. Doing anything beyond sitting here and feeling sorry for myself gives me crippling panic attacks. I'm boring. I don't know how to talk to people. Even my dog doesn't want to be around me these days. I'm angry all the time, or depressed. No wonder no one likes me. I absolutely loathe my brain. It's trying to kill me, it's trying to destroy me. It wants me to feel this way. I want to know what it's like to be able to function. Not even be happy; just FUNCTION. I can't even do that, though. No wonder I'm going to die alone. I don't even know why I'm posting this. I don't know what I want to hear. I guess I just want to tell someone, and there's no one in my life I could say this stuff to. I feel like a burden, an annoyance, someone who doesn't really matter. I'm scared to sleep because I know if I lay down in bed, I'm just going to think awful thoughts and make myself feel worse than I already do."
s_342_1169,"Does this sound like Bipolar? I can't go see anyone, we don't have enough money. Sometimes I feel like I have regular depression then it goes away and I feel great. I actually do housework and always ask my mom if there's more stuff to do and when she says no, I get a little sad. This is usually a two week cycle, sometime more or less. When I am in a depressive state, I feel worthless and can't do anything. I've heard that bipolar runs in families, my granddad was an alcoholic, could that me he was bipolar and passed it on to me?"
s_151_206,"I'm like constantly mad at little things that bug me. Other than that, my blood pressure has gone down, I can get a full nights sleep, and I'm not going to get cancer (fingers crossed). Also, I'm not alone. I got more to be thankful for than some withdrawal irritability."
s_356_158,"Just venting/ranting i guess. Waking up each day is one of my worst fears. I'm completely disappointed whenever i open my eyes each morning. I want to die, but i'm too much of a little bitch to kill myself. I'm only alive because i don't want to disappoint the people that i know. Every time i try to kill myself i fail. I always feel like i'm a failure. I can't even take my own life, and i know it's pointless to try anymore. Hurting myself is only a way to feel something other than this depression. Starving, cutting, and depriving myself of sleep are the only ways i can hurt myself. I am scared to sleep, due to the fact that i constantly have nightmares about my life. I can help but just fell worthless/useless, like i have no reason to stay here. I don't even understand why i'm here. I have no motivation towards life or any activities that use to bring me joy in the past. The joys i felt within these activities were so artificial that it just sickens me to try to participate in any of them. I just don't understand why i am even alive. Everyday is a struggle to try and not end up dead. If i could die without disappointing everyone around me i'd be able to die peacefully. I deserve to die a very painful death. The hatred that i have for myself is sometime unbearable. I just want to slam my head against a wall until i can no longer think, or just jump out into busy traffic. Just something that will be painful. It sounds weird i guess, but a painful death is what i feel I deserve. I have basically no hope in my future and believe that i am heading nowhere in my life. My life is a disgrace and i can never change. I make up all sort of excuses or outcomes to everything so i can just stay home and waste away. I do not want to be put on any medication because if i do achieve happiness, i do not want it to be artificial from a pill. I've lived most my life around people doing drugs (Brother addicted to pills and many deaths within close friends). I know it's probably my best route but i just cant live with myself that way. But that's suggesting that living like this is any better. I have been getting out a bit more which is a little nice, but i just feel so fake. I want to express this to the people around me, i guess for help. Even with all the things i said in this post, i want to live a happy life. A life where i can say that i atleast feel okay, respect myself, and overall don't shut out the people i love and my friends. i fell as uif i'm losing myself and them. i'm just drifting away, and i cant find a way back. I'm just so paranoid of everything and everyone. This is the first time i've let this out in about 3 months. I just let it build up in myself until i can't take it. I know that this is just a huge mess of a post, but i just needed to let it out. There is stuff i most likely missed but i'm just overwhelmed by everything. I'm sorry for my bitching and everything. i just can't explain it well. I hope that i do not wake up tomorrow morning. That way i can be happy, and it would be better that way."
s_3001_15,"I feel the exact. I am going through that too. I keep procrastinating, hating myself, and overall wishing I was someone else but me. Im not sure try to talk to your teachers and explain your problem. They can probably find a way to compromise and find a way so you can do better in school or college."
s_117_194,"I don't blame myself for it, it just kind of sticks in general. He is a really good guy and he cares about me a lot, which is why he really feels bad when he triggers me (this is only the second time it's happened). I suppose it really bothered me because like I mentioned in my post this was the first time I was triggered by that particular situation and it's like ""well there's one *more* thing I have to avoid."""
s_762_107,"Im only on day three of testing positive (fully vaxed) I lost my sense of taste, on the second day of having covid. And the only way to describe it is you can feel the textures but cant taste the food which makes it nauseating because the best part of food is tasting it. Soon after losing my taste I started to just lose my appetite too because whats the use? The only thing Ive found that I can taste is orange juice"
s_1499_78,"It would depend on whether or not your therapist thought you were in danger of actually harming yourself. That's when intervention happens. For example, I've been fairly open with mine about suicidal ideations and the way I have been feeling when I'm at my lowest, but I know it's just that - ideation. I don't have plans to kill myself, I am actively working on my mental health, and that's enough for her. But depending on your situation - diagnosis, age, living arrangements, social history - a therapist can see it as more or less of a red flag based on what they know about you. Most of them have heard ""I want to die"" or some variation of that SO many times, thousands of times, that they know when they need to escalate and get you more help than they can provide."
s_1749_226,"The way doctors. act you would think they know much more about mental health than they do. Every time I explain how bad my chronic pain is and how it effects my life I end up crying. Doctors immediately skip over the physical stuff and go straight to asking about my depression. As if that is the most likely cause of my crippling pain. I had to leave my job, home, dogs, boyfriend, and life in general because of my body. I am 23 and can hardly put my hair up. Yeah I'm fucking depressed. I am pretty sure that is a reasonable response to that."
s_993_839,Weird kdrama obsession for a short period. I am over it now. Feel like completely different person. Don't know if it was hypomania or what. Although I was kinda depressed so maybe not. Now can't stomach them. It's like I was a whole different person for months. I was kinda depressed and using it as a escapism. Is it a normal personality thing. I mean I can't even re-watch the ones that I really liked. Although right now nothing interests me much. Maybe it was a hobby like learning French phase. But I can still stomach that although not with same zeal. Maybe I am sort of in a weird place right now. Everything is boring. Things take effort. I can't concentrate...at least less than usual.
s_2815_1585,"Fertility Treatments They told me when I was pretty young that Id never be able to have a baby. And that was that. No therapy, no consolation, no nothing. I was given the knowledge and left to my own devices to deal with it. They wouldnt have to see me crying at night. Every night. For years and years. I kept it all under wraps, despite hating myself inside. Hating my failure. Hating my parts that didnt work. Hating the jealousy I felt for the women who had that gift and squandered it. I needed to try something. It didnt take long before I was ordering fertility drugs online. Clomiphene. Diethylstilbestrol. I took them all. Then I had to get sperm. That wasnt too difficult to obtain. A quick few ads on Craigslist, a couple pictures sent back and forth, and a meet up. An hour later, Id have a condom full of what I needed. I gave the drugs a week to kick in before doing anything else. They made me dizzy and nauseous. Small price to pay, I guess. For the next part, I had to inject the sperm into myself. I had to try lots of spots; I was aiming for where I thought ovaries would be. I figured an ectopic pregnancy was still a pregnancy. And maybe the doctors could fix it if I was lucky enough to encounter that problem in the first place. The needles were long and fat and the contents were cold from the refrigerator. In that week, Id been with 30 men. My body ached and my self-esteem was gone, but theyd given me what I required. I injected myself with all of it over the course of the day. My belly was a hole-filled, leaky wreck by the time I was done. And the medication had me dizzier than Id ever been. Its even hard to type this out through the brain fog. But its all going to be worth it when this works. When this works, Im going to have a beautiful baby of my own. One who will be loved. One who wont be told he cant follow his dreams just because hes a boy."
s_2402_779,"I don't know if I should see a Doctor I'm already in therapy, but that's from the STEPS team for my Psychosis. I'm already on meds, 4mg of Risperidone for my Psychosis and 50mg of Zoloft for my Depression. I don't know what else they could do for me. My flashbacks are multiple times a day with no trigger and my nightmare are every night. My sleeping is terrible at the moment, 3 nights ago I went to bed at 11PM and woke up at 3AM. Yesterday it was 9PM and I woke up at midday. I went to bed at 10:30PM and I woke up at 2:30AM, with no hope of getting back to sleep. I get nervous for no reason. I have no idea what to do"
s_2338_830,Bed rest is exhausting. I think I'm getting depressed. Going to make a quick trip to Michael's today to get crafty stuff to distract me (thank god for modified bed rest). Sleep has gotten worse. Waking up every 90 minutes except from 4-8 where I actually get sleep.
s_703_27,"Yesterday was a good day But today i feel awful. I felt so alive yesterday, I was finally doing something I am good at, something fulfilling. Today I am thrown back into reality ""Yesterday was just a temporary thing, a one-time opportunity."" The time i spent at the studio singing is over, and I am back to being a programmer today. I am torn between a well paying job and a passion of mine. This is just part of what I struggle with, I ain't keen on living like this. I don't even know what would make me happy, I think I forgot how to be happy a long time ago. I can't live with either decision so I am stuck in this limbo of feeling unfulfilled. I feel sorry for the people that care about me. Caring for someone who is like this must be frustrating and painful. I am sorry, you can not give my life meaning nor can you give it purpose. Living so that I wouldn't hurt loved ones by dying is not a life. Only I can give my life meaning, but I am currently unable to. I look so ugly when I am crying, if anyone would see me or hear me right now, they would think I totally lost it. My thought are so incoherent, I seem to drift from one painful memory to the next. I wish I was happy."
s_2046_16,"What are some tips to help me lose weight very fast I used to weigh 97-kgs some 45 years ago. I got my weight down to 67-kgs in about 68months. Currently I hover around 7075 kgs which is ideal with my height and gets me the tall and lean frame which I like. I am not paranoid over diets and counting calorie intake and maintaining a deficit. I just listen to my body, so to say, and did the below mentioned things at the time which helped me lose all that weight (and get a jawline which I didnt know I had) Strictly no sugar no sweets, no adding it over curd, no pastries. This was the hardest because I love Gulab Jamuns and pastries. Working out. Not being a gym freak, but my regimen had lots of cardio and limited lifting. I also love CrossFit and incorporated it in my regimen. Intermittent fasting. Eat nothing for 16-hours. Have your food in an 8-hour period. LOTS of walking. I never counted the steps at the time, but I walked A LOT. And its one of the major factors to help you in losing weight. Eating Makhanas (Fox Nuts) while binge watching. Highly recommended binge-watching snack. One light meal of Poha/Upma/Dalia/Khichdi every day. Eggs amp; chicken are good for proteins but I avoided non-veg during that time. No drinking. Beer might be a boon to give you the courage to finally text her, but beer belly is a bitch that doesnt leave. There wasnt much fat shaming. Im 61 so no one would have said that I looked like someone who was close to a 100-kgs. I have never posted a picture of me from that time because I never clicked many, and those which I have, I still dont have it in me to post them online. I was low on self-esteem. Things werent going right in my life. Had my first breakup and it ripped me to pieces for months, maybe a year, maybe more. And I wanted to make a career in writing but didnt know where to start. Losing all that weight changed my outlook on life. Made me more mature. Made me see through people and realise my priorities. But the major take from that experience is that THERES NO SUCH THING AS A QUICK FIX. It takes time. All the good things do."
s_1738_193,"You shouldn't. I know it can get super shitty. Take it from me. I work a crummy depressing job, I struggle to get people to take me seriously as an artist, and my dating life is a complete disaster, but I don't give up. I think what motivates me is fear of death. I really don't want to die, but I crave for the world to be a much better place, I crave for a sort of life where I feel in control for once, a life where I don't feel like I'm being led like a horse. I don't want you to do it but if you feel it's necessary, then that's your decision. I may not fully understand your situation because I'm not there to experience your difficulties but I support you at least. Take it from a stranger on the internet. Good luck to you and I send you love and respect."
s_1551_63,How to gain confidence? Im 22 and feel utterly pathetic and worthless
s_3099_765,"This perpetual fear is making me have suicidal thoughts (don't worry, I'm not going to do it no matter how much I wish to), I just don't want to face my future. CBT is based on Stoicism and has proven effective. One may try techniques from CBT for oneself, but in your case I think I'd consider consulting a therapist. All of us need help sometimes and suicidal thoughts are a good sign that we need help indeed."
s_2338_1046,"Sickness causing more anxiety? I've got anxiety, but thankfully my Zoloft keeps it pretty much under control. Friday night was hell for me, though. I took a nap after dinner and woke up to what I thought was an immediate panic attack. Rapid heart rate, the urge to get up and move, and a feeling of uneasiness lasted for **3 hours.** I was in hell, so i had my husband take me to a non-hospital ER. I was diagnosed as severely dehydrated, hooked up to an IV, and began to feel a little better. Then the doctor finds what he thinks is a bacterial middle ear infection. So I've been dizzy and my slight fever hasn't gone away even with antibiotics. I went back to a regular doctor today. She says I have a viral inner ear infection, explaining my dizziness and my fever being unresponsive to antibiotics. She gave me an EKG to see how my heart's doing, and just noticed a slight raise in HR (108 bpm), which usually happens to me when I'm sick or in pain. I've still been having very mild anxiety spells, though, followed by 30 minutes of me obsessively checking my pulse every 4 minutes or so. Probably doesn't help the situation. Does anyone know if this can be caused by the dizziness I'm experiencing? Also, I've been having panic spells lasting about 3 minutes after I wake up, and I can't stay asleep for more than 90 minutes at a time. My doctor couldn't explain this but I just wanted to see if anyone else has experienced this. TL;DR - Inner ear infection causing dizziness, had mild panic spells (lasting max 30 seconds) since ER visit on Friday. Mild panic spells for 3-5 minutes after waking. Anyone else experienced this before?"
s_1115_951,"""War is bad. It makes me sad."" - Melo's sole contribution to his University history class."
s_151_786,"My one year free of weed It's been a crazy ride for sure. I just want to share some of my story and experiences. Maybe some one else went through some of the same things as I did. Maybe you're going through it now. I started smoking weed at 16, I was a musician so it felt natural. I preferred cigarettes and alcohol, so I never got too sucked in. I crushed on most of the guys I smoked with, they made me feel a false sense of validation. I stopped briefly, and by the time I got to college, I fell in love with mary jane again. Or at least the people passing me the blunt. One day a friend told me, ""Hey man, you know you need to buy a sack at some point, right?"" It hit me like a light from heaven; holy shit, I can buy weed. Again, and again, and again. I couldn't afford college after another year, being out of state, and too depressed to work, so I left. Shit got worse. I smoked all day, every day. Medical grade, all the time. I went in and out of programs and rehabs, mostly because I liked the alcohol, weed, pill combos. Years went by. I was moving at a snail's pace. I ended up moving on a whim to another state, and ended up in a shitty relationship in a shitty apartment. Fuck, the weed there wasn't even that great. But I put my game face on, and bought frequently from H dealers. Never any hard stuff. I had an epiphany after I had some money stolen. I invited a bunch of friends over (fitting). We popped pills. And I cried. I cried because I lost not only my money, but because I lost myself. I called 911 on myself, went to a hospital, and left after 3 days. 23, in the middle of a new state, and trying to stay sober, was insane. I couldn't sleep most nights. I stopped drinking caffeine. I was desperate for friends. My boyfriend and I fought constantly. But I kept my goal in mind, just fucking stay sober. I had the insight to leave the state, and plan my next move. I found a town I liked, with a career program I liked, and moved on in. Still fresh in my absence from weed, I was still overly talkative and couldn't find enough ways to spend my time. Unemployed. I made friends were I could, kept looking for a job, and prayed. I prayed all the time. Sometimes with other people, mostly by myself. Some people find it weird for an LGBT man to be spiritual, but fuck, that's all I had going. My family slowly starting respecting me again. I got phone calls from people that cared. I was moving forward, and people took notice. Finally, after all the job searching, I got a job I loved. Soon, a new car. Soon after that, I broke up with my long distance boyfriend, and I was dating normal people again. Things still affect me, but I have the emotional willpower to handle them like an adult. Life isn't so much a roller coaster, more so a stroll over the sand dunes at a beach. Every moment more beautiful than the last, even if I can't see the ocean from my point of view. I can't really dish out advice. I don't feel like that's my place. I can just share what I've gone through, and it was hell. I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy, even if that happens to be me. Life today is beautiful. And i'm glad to be hear to share it with you."
s_1601_880,"Either I regret I did it, or I regret I didn't do it. I have two weeks left in my country of residence before moving to Europe for at least 15 months. I want to ask my long-time crush out and just go for it. What's stopping me? Social anxiety. No matter the outcome, I would still go through a paralyzing panic attack that would last days, which would then lead me to regretting it. So I guess I'm choosing big regrets over smaller regrets + a panic attack. I hate myself."
s_1793_1422,I know I cant concentrate with other people behind me so its a no-go for me Id go insane !
s_2402_537,"I've always had something wrong with me. I didn't want to eat since I've been born. Had terrible nightmares as a kid, I've always seen shadow figures that weren't there. I've accepted I'm never going to get better, I just have to handle this as I am now."
s_3002_178,"I lost everything, and now I want to die I'm a rather depressed person. For about 5 years of my life, I felt lost, without anything to aim for in my life but maybe a chance I could find a reason. And then, one day, after a bit of time, I found that reason. I found her. And I know what you're thinking, he's going to kill himself over a girl, it's not worth it, I know that. She was more than a girl, she was my reason to live. We met eachother through a game, we lived across an ocean from eachother. We loved eachother, but we had issues with what we did by ourselves. Me much more than her. I cause breaks like this with everyone. I don't have friends, I don't know where to get help, I was sent to a mental hospital, it fixed nothing, my following therapist, nothing. I am talking here, because I had no friends. Everyone I have ever talked to has one way or another turned out to hate me. I just wanted someone to talk to, that's all. I have little hope, but I need to know if someone, anyone out there cares about who I am for more than just a human, for me, JT. And if there is not, then may there be salvation beyond."
s_1535_1109,I haven't slept in days.
s_2100_94,"I'm a little scared that I'm developing insomnia. Or that my anxiety has flared up. Or something. I don't really know. For the past week or so, I've been sleeping really badly. Only about 3 to 5 hours a night at most. Last night I couldn't sleep at all, I felt so so anxious. That's the first time it's every happened to me before. I've been worried about every little thing, how I look, how I act, my grades - when normally, I would lean into my depressed state of mind and just sort of accept it. I feel tense all the time now. Is there some way to treat this? This anxiety's popped up really only in the past few weeks."
s_2013_92,Future gives me anxiety Im afraid of what Ill become and whatll happen to me.
s_2958_116,"I feel like my need for meaning is alienating. Do any of you feel this way? Over the past year I've be recovering from a depressive episode. An important piece of healing from my depression has been socializing with people and developing my social skills. While I think I've made a lot of improvement, I've been having trouble staying true to myself while trying to expand my social circle and become more open. I wouldn't call it an obsession, but I have a fundamental interest in the humanities (Philosophy, Literature, Art, History, Politics, Language) that a lot of people don't share. I'm drawn to the humanities because, like many of you, I have a need to try to find meaning. It's the study of being human and, because of that, I've read a lot. Unfortunately, the wealth of knowledge makes me feel alienated from others who aren't interested in finding meaning. I don't mean to say that that's all I have to talk about, but there doesn't seem to be many people who have much interest in these things. It's not that I'm dying to have conversations about these things either, it's that I have to censor myself and not let my knowledge about these things cause social friction. For instance, when people ask me if I'm reading something or what I'm reading, I usually don't answer with an in depth description because they probably don't want to hear it. I don't like people knowing that I read philosophy, poetry or foreign literature, because most people don't read those things and can't relate. How am I supposed to answer what my favorite film is when my real answer is it's an existential Russian film that can't be summed up in a sentence? I've found myself really skirting around these kind of questions and straight up lying by giving generic answers. Even when I have something to say in conversations about politics or history (which I never start now) I usually keep it to myself because whatever I have to say often shuts down or hijacks the conversation. Another example, some friends were having a conversation about how great they thought the idea of communism is, but they were pretty new to the whole idea. Throughout the whole conversation I wanted to give my researched opinion that contradicted theirs and would have derailed the whole conversation. I have this whole other side to me that isn't appropriate to share. I can't share my interests because they won't be accepted or engaged. It's almost like living two lives at once. I like socializing with people, I like to talk about what's happening in the day to day, have drinks, go to parties and have a good time, but I feel like a whole side of me is never engaged. I've tried breaching these deeper conversations with people who'd seem interested, but I haven't had a lot of success so I've become more reserved with what I talk about. I know that I can't justs drop philosophical tidbits into conversation and expect people to engage them, so I have to censor myself, but it's causing issues. Do any of you feel the same way? Do you have any experiences to share?"
s_855_1863,I am.. sadness
s_3040_704,"I couldn't put text in on my phone. I've literally never done anything to my brows. Never plucked, never gotten them shaped, never filled them in--nothing. I know they could be better, although I've gotten compliments on them before
What should I do? I just bought my first pair of tweezers, but I'm scared of over-plucking. Also excuse the early morning, no makeup face. EDIT: here's a side view <URL>
EDIT 2: I don't want to go get it done professionally, I don't have anywhere near me besides a threading place that is notorious for making brows way too thin. And I really enjoy doing things myself."
s_2006_107,"Please please please help I've been sober for two years. Ever since I was 13 I've been abusing drugs and alcohol. After multiple rehabs and outpatients and therapists and psychiatrists and anti-depressants, I've finally gotten sober. Keep in mind there is an entire 3-4 years of my life I've repressed, so I don't know what that holds. I'm in therapy now, I have a job, I'm in school, and I have a healthy relationship with someone who has 4 years of sobriety and loves me to death. I have great friends, a beautiful family, and I'm still hopeless. I hate myself. I'm not good enough, and this dark place in my head has been comfortable for so long that I can't get out. It's safe here and I don't have to face anything. I'm so tired. I've been on the go since I was 13, I wanted to grow up so fast, and now that I have I'm fucking exhausted. I'm just tired of not being happy with my body, myself, who I am. I refuse to take a compliment because I don't believe it. Please, tell me what the fuck I'm missing. I'm so blinded by my own self hate that I can't see anything but the obvious....ending it. I'm so tired."
s_1580_134,"Crush Your Resolutions...My 80lb Weight Loss M/22/250, around six feet tall. September of 2014 I started out weighing about 331 and was just absolutely miserable. Started absolutely hating everything about myself. Couldn't look in a mirror, had about two solid shirts that I would wear and up and quit going out with friends because I was so ashamed. I lived on the margaritas and everything else I could fit into my mouth diet. One day I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror and had a complete breakdown. After that I decided to turn my life around and live to the age of 30. Truthfully, and this will sound stupid but I saw this picture of Chris Pratt and it really, really hit home (<URL>)
Started by writing literally everything I ate down in a journal while also keeping track on my phone. I was a big guy but consistently ate around 1,500 calories a day and between 30-50g of carbs. At the hell out of chicken, kale and eggs. I would walk for an hour every day at an incline and saw dramatic changes. Progress pic: <URL>
Fast forward to now, I've went down three pant sizes and two shirt sizes, dropping down to about 250lbs. I recently started with a personal trainer. He has me doing a mix of resistance/weight training with some weighted cardio mixed in. I meet with him two days a week and do strict cardio by myself on the other days. My ass is getting handed to me and I absolutely love it. My goal is by June to be at my goal weight and looking sexy af. I'm nowhere near where I want to be yet but dammit I'm a hell of a lot closer than I was a year ago. Now it's crunch time. Point of the story, I know it's around the time for New Year's resolutions and jokes are being made about packed gyms but dammit it's nothing to joke about. If you are one of those people struggling to lose weight don't give in, keep it up. Don't think of it as a diet, think of it as a lifestyle change. Don't be embarrassed to ask for help/advice...nobody is going to judge someone actively trying to better themselves. Set goals and crush them...be a fucking lion. In the beginning it will seem like absolute hell until you start to see results, then it becomes an addiction. I promise you, if I could crawl out of the hole I dug myself, so can you dammit."
s_1271_1796,"The opening to father's day, a pretty weak comedy starring robin williams, opens with williams holding at pistol and saying in v.o. ' I've thought about suicide for years, it's the only thing that's been keeping me going.'"
s_473_485,"Actually, I *am* extremely paranoid in regards to unplanned pregnancy. You can thank pro-choicers for instilling a zero tolerance of risk in me in regards to this. After all, I heard pro-choicers complain many, many times about contraception and sterilization failure. However, unlike these pro-choicers, I simply don't have the option of abortion in the event of an unplanned pregnancy, which in turn means that I absolutely cannot risk an unplanned pregnancy in the first place. Also, abstaining from sex with all fertile and potentially fertile women for the rest of my life is both completely unrealistic and completely unacceptable for me. However, in addition to this, I did say that I am interested in using female hormones and reducing my sex drive, both of which is accurate. After all, I have heard (from both trans-women and trans-men) that female hormones make one more emotional, which is certainly something that I want. Plus, having a lower sex drive would be a good thing since it will allow me to focus more on other things but also allow me to have sex when I will want to. Plus, I have heard that female hormones increase the length of one's orgasm and make one body sexually aroused in a different way, both of which I would certainly like to try out. Also, I would like to have a more feminine face so that I would develop a more androgynous appearance. In addition to this, though, I absolutely hate all of my body hair and facial hair and thus want to permanently get rid of as much of it as possible. This hair makes me feel dysphoric and I would prefer that all of it simply disappeared and never grew back. After all, I would like to have a more feminine and ""clean"" appearance as well as to cross-dress at times."
s_2415_614,You're right. Wish I didn't try to hit on her. We weren't even friends. Maybe she thought I was a creep. I feel as if I was a creep. I hate myself. Life is hell.
s_155_318,"Thank you so much for your reply. It's very helpful. The issue of sleep is especially interesting. I've always been a night owl and now at age 60 it's gotten pretty dysfunctional -- I'm usually sleep-deprived. I've read that regular sleep habits, and adequate sleep, are important to dieting, but changing my sleep habits has been difficult. If I go to bed early I just wake up every 90 minutes. I think I'm going to need to tire myself out with more exercise and then walk bedtime back gradually. Also glad to hear that diet is 80% of the weight-loss equation because I've let my diet plan get derailed on days I can't exercise, like ""why bother, I can't get on the treadmill today so I've already blown it."" Lastly, glad to hear your endorsement of MFP and low-carb. I've tried weight watchers online but I don't think it's a good fit for me because I like to get the calorie and nutritional info. I think calorie counting is a better fit for me. I like carbs so I'm going to need to watch them. I'm trying to do a serious diet and lose 50 pounds. I'm 5'6"" and 200, got up there gradually over the years, topped out at 211 six years ago, have made half-hearted and inconsistent efforts since then. My weight as a young person was low 120s but I'd be happy with 150 as a goal for now. Thank you again for your response -- you are very kind and a great example!"
s_2065_1075,"Justification! When my son was born, I wanted to breastfeed in the worst way and I tried so hard, so damn hard. In the end it didn't work out b/c he couldn't latch. When he tried to nurse it hurt so badly and he wasn't getting enough so after a month of struggling to pump even 6oz after a full day, we switched for formula. I had asked in the hospital when he was born and when we went to our first couple of well-baby visits if he possibly had lip ties, and I was told constantly no. WELL HAHAHA. My son had his first dentist apt on Thurs and I asked the dentist. GUESS WHAT. He has an upper lip tie. (She doesn't want to do anything with it for now, to see if his teeth grow in properly, etc.) BUT NOW I KNOW I WASN'T A FAILURE. I just wanted to celebrate thisssssss 3 3
And also to let other moms who may be struggling with this, or feeling this way - you are not alone!"
s_1296_12,"Dealing with a company who refuses to use email, and only snail mail is the most frustrating thing! OK, so my old work has an online service for all our payslips and tax documents....but I no longer work there, so I no longer have any kind of access to previous years' tax stuff or any of my slips. My old work also have my old address and when they sent this years statement in the mail, despite a mail redirecting service I have in place, the letter got lost. So, I called them up to get a new one. They tell me I need to change my address with them by filling out a Change of Address Form....which they are able to email to me. I ask them why they can't just email me my group certificate. They tell me that is against their security policy. I ask them, if I fill in this form, will you process it quickly? No, there are lots of people trying to change their address and you will go to the back of the line. I am more than annoyed. They have an electronic copy of my group certificate, which they refuse to send to me. I have to fill out a change of address for so they can mail it to me. They *email* me the form, and I am able to email it back, but even when I do, it will still take weeks for them to even process it!!! And, after they process the form it will still take another week for them to send me my tax certificate...and then I have to wait another few weeks after for the Tax Office to process my return! In this day and age, why everything isn't electronic is beyond me! I am just so mad at the bureacracy of it all!"
s_86_769,"It's not just the bus, there's a lack of mindfulness in general. Everyone barges around loudly with little regard for those around them. The old idea of don't mind what anyone else thinks has become don't mind anyone else at all. People are rude and self absorbed. I'm guilty of it to most certainly but it really gets me down."
s_2953_1058,"OP's stepsister is getting married to OP's ex boyfriend that cheated on OP [ORIGINAL](<URL>) by [u/ThrowRa86868686](<URL>) **My (25f) stepsister ss (23f) is getting married to my ex(26m)** We were as close as any two sisters growing up. My mum and her dad met when we were 8 amp;6 and we got along really well from the get-go. My exbf and I broke up 2 years ago, he cheated on me and I found out about it a week after he proposed to me. 5-6 months later ss told me that she and exbf have started dating. I couldnt believe my ears. I was very angry at her but the rest of the family (mum, stepdad, two half sisters) didnt think it was a betrayal at all and my mom once yelled at me to grow up and move on. I gradually distanced myself from my stepsister, without making a fuss. I just poured myself into my studies instead and hid behind the Im swamped excuse. I started dating my current boyfriend cb (25m) about 10 months ago. The only problem is that ss used to have a huge crush on him, and she still, to this day, text and dm him. They never dated. I havent told anyone in my family that Im seeing someone. ss and exbf got engaged and they have sent the wedding invitations last month(wedding in june). I didnt rsvp because I dont want to attend. last week my mum asked me to visit. When I got there mum was waiting with ss, her bff (and MOH), my half sisters and exbfs sister. It was an intervention. my mum started by saying that I needed to stop alienating myself from everybody and get over the hurt. Ss is getting married and she wanted me as a bridesmaid. I told them NO! Ss started crying saying Im ruining her wedding. She asked if it has to do with me not having a +1 because she could pair me with one of exbfs single best men and I wouldnt feel lonely then. I got really angry and told her I didnt want to go to HER wedding because I dont like her. She started crying again calling me bitter and a hag for purposefully wanting to hurt her on her big day. My mum called me later saying if I didnt show up at least as a guest, Im cut off the whole family. You see they need me there so people see theres no hard feelings between us and that I have blessed their marriage because she has been getting a whole lot of sh\*t from the family for what she did to me. Im so angry now. Whats between ss and I is broken beyond repair. Why is it so hard for them to understand. Plus I DO have a plus one should I decide to turn up. And ss would regret the day she invited me then. I have a half mind to do it and ruin her day. I love my mum and my sisters but Im tired of them choosing ees side. And I know mum is serious that she would cut me off if I didnt attend. She loves my stepdad very much and upsetting ss means upsetting him. Any advice on how to tackle this? Because however I turned it I am the loser. [UPDATE](<URL>) **Update: my stepsister is getting married to my ex** Hi again! I couldnt find my op because I used a throwaway account. But I could find the deleted post and I copied it to this account if you want to read it before the update here it is [original post](<URL> amp;utm_medium=ios_app amp;utm_name=iossmf) Ss=step sister Cbf=current boyfriend Exbf=ex boyfriend Before I update I want to thank you very very very much. When I wrote here I was so hurt and consumed with anger that I was planning a very cheap revenge on my ss. But since then and with the amazing advice I got from you I realized that pettiness isnt the answer. I thought back and came to the conclusion that the only hurt I was feeling was because of my mum. Since my exbf cheated I have felt that my mum let me down by not supporting me. I dont care about ss or exbf. Im very happy with my life now and I love cb. I decided to try one last time to fix things with mum and explain to her how hurt I have been by her treatment. I also decided to tell her the truth. On Friday I visited mum, she was alone at the house. I started by telling her that I was hurt about the intervention because I didnt think I needed one. That I was hurt that she always took sss side, to please my stepdad, and that I have many reasons for not attending ss wedding. While I dont feel hurt anymore about her (ss) betrayal, our relationship has changed and I dont see her as my sister anymore. I dont feel obligated either to try and repair her reputation by going to her wedding. She made a very controversial life choice and even if Im not hurt by it anymore she mustve known people will be giving her a hard time and that I honestly dont understand why she cared. And lastly, I told her about cbf. I told her about ss probably still has feelings for him and it wouldnt be nice for us to go to her wedding and ruin her day. I told her I wasnt ready to make our relationship official yet and that if ss knew he would be my plus one she would change her mind about inviting me. I saw that my mum was getting more and more upset the more I talked. When it came to the subject of cbf she was shaking with suppressed rage. After I finished she told me she was right in thinking that Im a vindictive hag that shes ashamed of me and that my bitterness is the reason I will end up alone. She told me I was pathetic for hooking up with sss old love and she forbade me from telling anyone about him. And you should break up with him if you know whats good for you she threatened to tell cbf that Im using him to get back at ss and then she kicked me out of her house. Yesterday, when I was in the kitchen I heard the doorbell. Cbs opened and it was ss with exbf. When she saw cbs she asked what are YOU doing here. I came out of the kitchen and she was terrified and her eyes full with tears. Her plan was to sit and talk, me her and exbf to sort things out but when she understood whats going on she started crying. She called me names, cursed me and threw the shoehorn I have in the entrance at me. She kept yelling HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. Cbf asked them to leave and blocked her from getting at me. She left in tears, exbf confused after her. Mum sent me a long email today telling me that she was disgusted by my actions (she thought I planned for ss to find out about cbf and me). She forbade me from ever contacting her or my sisters and told me that if I dont end things with cbf immediately she will make breaking us up her priority. I showed cbf the email. He is very distraught. He asked me if I would consider moving to another city with him when I finish school and we move in together. Well see what happens but I like his suggestion. It was the first time he talked about moving in together. I wouldve been over the moon if I wasnt so heartbroken."
s_1404_890,"Is it weird or bad that I have no hobby and also dont feel much need to chat with friends anymore? I have no hobby. There is nothing I enjoy in life. Ofcourse I tried many hobby ideas but they rather exhaust me than give me joy. I spend my time on: 1. sleep (12 hours) 2. eat (1\`hour) 3. homework/uni (10 hours and I have no choice) 4. discord, reddit, youtube, other websites (1+ hour) My hobby used to be gaming but since at the same time gaming became an addiction and I didnt enjoy it anymore, I completely quit gaming. Now I have no hobby. I do still chat with friends but I do that alot less because im not really in the mood to chat with people anymore. Which I dont understand because a while ago I was very lonely and desperate to chat with people. sleep eat homework internet Thats my life"
s_2180_5,"Vent Post: Process of Looking for Apartments/Moving Out, Fear, Doubts, Setbacks, ""Good Faith Deposits,"" Intuition vs. Paranoia I have another vent, been stressing, doing research all night and didn't get any sleep (not that I am tired). Quick Background:
- Horrible Soul crushing living situation that brings me pain/fear all the time. - Unemployed but have savings to last a couple of months if I find a place. Not looking for a job until I find and have a stable place. - Been looking for sublet Craigslist apartments for months on months, as far back as March/April. It's been so long because I haven't been full-time/all the time. I've also been looking for sublets (between 2-6 months), somewhere I can clear my head, collect myself, get a job, save money, and eventually find more stable/longer term place. Lastly it's taken so long mostly because of fear/anxiety. Just looking at Craigslist housing posts used to cause stomach-aches. It still does but less and I know that I need to get out/have my own space. My situation:
I found a place on Craigslist a week ago. I spoke to someone and went to see the place on Tuesday. There were 2 other people looking for the place too. BTW that took strength, I was soo afraid. My stomach hurt and I was nervous. Thank God my mom was there in case I had a panic attack. Anyway I like the place and I want it. The leasing manager/who is also an individual broker said if I want to continue forward with the process I have to do an application online. She emailed me the instructions and the application link. I filled out the application and submitted the required documents (I did everything online the same night). BUT THERE IS A CATCH. I must send a $500 deposit/closing fee to hold the apartment. In turn she will take it off the market. If I am approved then we will continue the process. I am assuming that means (getting/signing a lease). If I am not approved she will return the deposit back to me. Keep in mind that I haven't been approved, haven't seen or signed a lease, and I haven't met the landlords/homeowners. Even so, I have am having serious fear, doubts about this ""Good Faith Deposit"" process. I am afraid as soon as I put in the deposit she is going to run off with my money and I won't have any way of tracking her. As I already said I am unemployed but I do have savings and good credit. I have enough savings to last the whole 6 months of the leasing term. Even so, I am not loose or risky with my money. My family has always been struggling with money my entire life and I don't want to make mistakes and do stupid things with my hard earned money. I also have a cautious/plan everything nature. I did mad research. I looked up her name on the state department, I looked up the landlord/house owners property records. Everything seems legit. I looked up housing policies and it isn't unusual or illegal to do ask people for a holding or ""Good Faith Deposit"" before getting approved, looking at and signing a lease and meeting the landlords/property owners. I really don't want to be duped. I can't afford to fall for a scam. I really don't want this to be a scam. $500 is a lot to lose for someone who doesn't have a job, and has hang ups about spending money. I can't even buy things I want without feeling guilty about it. Right now I am waiting to hear back from the leasing manager. I sent her an email with a bunch of questions (such as asking for an electric copy of the lease and getting this ""Good Faith Deposit"" thing in writing with signatures) and I may meet up with her to see the place again later on today. In the meantime while waiting I am freaking out. I don't want to lose out on this place but I also don't want to be scammed/made a fool of. All this fear makes me question if this is my intuition talking or my paranoia. Part me wants to just pay the deposit and see what happens and the other part is like no bitch (like what if I get stuck in a bad leasing situation). Like what should I do? How can I assure myself? How can I have faith?"
s_2815_1305,"Never Enough Bones [Previous.](<URL>)
The best part of starving to death is the knowledge that, right before I die, the person I see in the mirror will be the most beautiful person I can possibly be. No extraneous fat; no extraneous skin; no extraneous me. Just a pure distillation of my soul before its freed from the body that imprisons it. Its what I look forward to more than anything in the world. But I cant celebrate yet. Theres still too much of me. I have a lot of work to do. Elaine was my ana buddy. We both knew I was better at it than she was. She told me how much I inspired her, and I believed it. It felt good to help my friend. Thats how it had been for the last couple years. When she started ranting and raving about this amazing girl Aida she met online whos the most inspirational person shed ever met, though, I felt a twinge of betrayal. Who was this girl and what was she telling my friend? Elaine said Aida was a new member on our pro-ana message board. She likes to hang around in the Every Step Makes You Smaller fitness section. A runner, apparently. Id never needed to visit that section of the site, so I never noticed her. When Elaine started running, I only found out a week later when she arrived at my place unannounced. I was surprised. I live 30 miles from her. She didnt have a car and would refuse to take public transportation for some reason, so when she told me she ran, I believed her. Plus she was covered in sweat and panting like she was about to keel over. You have to realize something: Im better than Elaine. Im lighter and more dedicated. I run on my treadmill three times a day until I make sure I burn every single calorie Ive eaten, plus another hundred. But never 30 miles. And Elaine was huge compared to me. Over 100lbs. Shed just burned 2300 calories in one run. Thats more than I eat in four or five days. She couldnt tell how jealous and angry I was through her exhaustion, which was good, because I needed to find out how she managed to do that. This was the point Elaine mentioned Aida. She said Aida not only gave her amazing advice about how to run, but told her how to make a supplement that gave her so much energy and made each step feel like an amazing accomplishment. Like I said, I didnt know who Aida was, but when I heard this, I hated her. I hate shortcuts. I dont take supplements. Every pound Ive lost was through sheer determination and willpower. Shortcuts make you soft. Im not soft. I am soft. If Im going to be honest, Ill admit to one shortcut. There are days I cant control myself and Ill eat a whole bag of gummi bears or two yogurts. Both fat free, but still too much. I could feel the space between my ribs filling in like canyons during a flash flood. Theres no worse feeling in the world than becoming more when all you dream about is being less. My index and middle fingers would manipulate the dime-sized, scarred spot on the back of my throat. It took so, so long. Id have to push hard and claw at the spot with my fingernails for ten straight minutes. It felt like I was reaching in and pulling the food up and out of me. Elaine was the only one who knew about it. Shed been doing that long enough to notice my Russells sign and even though she hadnt said anything to me or asked for tips, I was fairly certain she took some comfort in the fact she wasnt alone with mia. Thats something I hated about her. I bet it sounds like I was a bad friend, doesnt it? But I cant help it. Elaine thought she was like me when she wasnt. My successes are through restriction. Through the abnegation of pleasure. Im an ascetic. Elaine Elaine was a disaster. She was corporeal and weak; she couldnt control her urges. After she stuffed herself, if her fingers werent down her throat trying to tickle the food out of her belly, a handful of laxatives were splashing in so she can shit everything out. Her teeth were brown and her cheeks were swollen with fluids. She thought we were the same. I am better. And then she ran to my house. When the doorbell rang, I was washing multicolored jellybean vomit from my hand and wrist and forearm. Id scratched the surface off my scar so the back of my throat was bleeding and the cut was coated with stinging stomach acid. 30 miles and 2300 calories. I hadnt shit in 13 days and my disgusting, fat belly was distended like I was pregnant even though itd been two years since my last period. 30 miles, 2300 calories, and more excited than exhausted. Elaine was winning. I had to let her tell me all about Aida and the supplements. Aida was very private and didnt post progress pics. To me, I assumed that meant she was fat. That alone made me skeptical of any advice shed have to give. But 30 miles. Elaine and I browsed through Aidas post history and I learned a few things like how to run to minimize impact so you could run farther without injury. More running meant more calories burned. I made a mental note to incorporate that change into my running style. I also learned about sugar. Id been puking up all the extra sugar Id eat, but Aida said to run it off. If I made the changes to my running style and ran off the extra sugar rather than throwing it up, Id burn off what Id eaten, plus extra that would have just stayed as fat if Id thrown it up instead. There were a few other, small tweaks. But the supplement was what I wanted to hear about. The shortcut. And I hated myself for it. But 30 miles. The supplement was pretty simple. It was a certain kind of mushroom mixed with caffeine powder and ephedra. Aida provided a link where we could get the chemicals online. Wed have to find the mushroom for ourselves. Elaine, however, already had all the stuff. Elaine was beaming with pride and self-satisfaction. I knew she was delighted to finally be the one to provide inspiration. Shed followed me for so long. But now she was in the lead. Even though she was 100lbs to my 85, she was winning. Even though her cheeks were bouncy and fat while mine were streamlined and gaunt, she was winning. I asked if we could go back to her place so I could try the supplement. She grinned and said yes. We got into my car and headed over. Elaines apartment was a disaster; food containers everywhere, photos of models and singers stapled to the walls, dishes piled on the counter next to the full sink, and the unmistakable, cloying scent of old vomit. I didnt care. My focus was on the supplement. I sat on her couch and waited while she went in the kitchen. She emerged with two spoons perched on a plate. Inside each spoon was a paste of the mixture Aida had taught Elaine how to make. Mushrooms, caffeine, and ephedra. I asked her if she was going to run with me. She nodded. I didnt know how to feel about that. Elaine was going to do more than 30 miles and I had no idea how far Id go. I hoped Id be able to outrun her. We swallowed the awful-tasting concoction and Elaine let me borrow some running clothes. They were extremely baggy. It wasnt long before I felt the effect of the supplement. It was not altogether unpleasant, but it was speedy. Like Id had too much coffee. One she felt it kick in, we headed out. We ran at a brisk pace, keeping up with one another and not talking as we went. The effect of the supplement grew stronger. The speedy feeling remained, but another started to come in alongside it: satisfaction. Every step felt like it was making a huge, positive difference in my life. It reinforced my drive to take more and more steps. The sensation was wonderful. My knee, which had been bothering me for the last few months, was perfectly fine after Id adjusted my stride to fit Aidas recommendation. Elaine chugged along next to me, staring straight ahead, with a trace of a smile on her lips. Wed planned to run all the way back to my place. I figured if we couldnt make it, Id take the subway or a bus to Elaines to get my car and then Id pick her up. But I could tell, after the first three or four miles, we wouldnt be needing a car. Our feet slapped against the pavement and we picked up speed as we went. It was a powerful stride just like Id been capable of back when I ran track in high school. Before I realized I had to get smaller. Before I realized how much space I took up. But now, as the wind whistled by my ears, I knew this was how it would all end for me. This was the key to the success that had eluded me as I hovered pathetically between 83 and 86 pounds. I was all energy. I could feel my flesh clinging to my ribs and hips and collarbones and drawing ever inward; each protrusive bone an indication of my hard work and dedication. I was lost in my head for countless miles. I imagined running forever as my skin melted away and left a trail of useless waste behind me. Id be a perfect girl if I ran far enough - a creature of bone and momentum. Perfect, perfect me. And once I couldnt run anymore - once my body had given everything it had and Id traversed the world and shown every living person the power of my will - the last fragments of bone would splinter away and my soul would finally rise. I would be free. A hand on my arm brought me back into reality. Elaine had grabbed me. We were in front of my apartment. I looked down at myself. My body was still there. Hatred and disappointment danced in a peristaltic wave through the sweating meat that trapped me. I plodded up the steps, took my key from around my neck, and we went inside. Elaine stayed with me that night. As the days went by, we would run a lot together. When our feet ached and our shins felt as if theyd crumble from the relentless pressure of our motion, wed consult Aida, who was always there. Always online, as if shed been waiting for us. Over time, the word got out to other ana girls in our city who used the forum. Sometimes there would be six or seven of us running together, all clattering bones and grim determination. All rushing toward our goal of zero. When Elaine and I werent collecting our disability checks, we were running. Every day, we would meet up and run together. My disdain for her began to evaporate as I watched her working as hard as I was. We inspired one another to go farther and farther, harder and harder. I was 74lbs. Elaine was still 100. The knuckles on her right hand were always freshly scabbed. Today, the morning my scale hit 70 for the first time since I was 11 years old, I drove to Elaines. She didnt answer the door when I knocked. When I called her cell phone, she didnt answer. I let myself in using the key she kept hidden. I found what Id long anticipated. Elaines gray face was hanging onto the toilet by her chin. The rest of her was curled in a loose ball. Vomit and dark blood covered the toilet and the floor around her. Textbook gastric rupture. I felt very little while I looked at her corpse. She wasnt wearing clothes, and I found myself inspecting the curvature of her ribs and hips and comparing them to my own. Mine were more angular and obvious. I headed over to Elaines computer. The pro-ana forum was onscreen. I clicked over to Every Step Makes You Smaller and found Aida there messaging with some young teens about how to run really far without their parents getting worried. When I interjected the news of Elaines death into the chat thread, the subject predictably changed to her. The teens made a big show of it, the older users said theyd pray or send positive vibes; all the obvious stuff. Aida, though, sent me a private message. All it said was, dont call the police yet - watch what happens. I went for a run. When I came back a few hours later, Elaine was different. Her skin was deeply porous and thin, wiry stalks pushed themselves from the center of each hole. Stringy, white stuff was growing out of her mouth and butt in thick clumps; one clump dangling in the bloody toilet water, the other pushing out across the floor. I messaged Aida. The reply was instantaneous. Cut off the stalks and eat them. Dont worry, there are no real cals. Then you can go for a run. I promise, by the time youre done, youll be the person you want to be. The last sentence was the most beautiful thing Id ever read. I cut the clumps, which I discovered were mushrooms, out of Elaine. I washed them, sliced them up, and ate them. I did my best to believe Aida that they didnt have calories. Now Im going to do the next part. I wrote to the people on the forum and told them what I was going to do. They told me good luck and be safe; the default reply of the jealous people there who havent reached the point they dream about. Id given that reply before many times. All the while, though, I knew Id get there eventually. And now Im here. I feel more energy than Ive ever felt in my life. My skin is different; its sticky and delicate. Its almost like it wants to come off. And thats what Ive worked so hard for. A girl of bones who runs away from the skin that traps her. By the time you read this - by the time Ive gone the hundreds or maybe even thousands of miles I know Ill be able to go - Ill be who Ive always wanted to be: no one at all. Perfect, weightless zero. Thank you, Aida. [More.](<URL>)
[_](<URL>)
[_](<URL>)"
s_1551_249,"Should I force myself into uncomfortable situations or wait until I feel ready? Ive been focused on self improvement for about 2 years now, last year was mostly for my mental health and this year has mostly been for my physical health. And Ive been unemployed because of these issues. But I feel impatient, Im starting to feel like Ive missed out on a lot in the past 5 years because of things that werent in my control and its consuming my mind. I want to go on more dates and have more sex, but I still dont feel ready or good enough. Low self esteem and low confidence mostly, and I feel like I cant improve these until Im at 100% physically and mentally but I just dont want to lose any more time"
s_103_32,Sounds like anxiety. What do they have at the drug store? Do you have a psychiatrist? I am prescribed anxiety medications. When I have panic attacks I feel like my heart is going to pound right through my chest. Ive had a bunch of cardiology tests done but that doesnt seem to ease my mind.
s_2402_1247,"I don't know how to get to sleep. I'm too scared to sleep, and when I finally do get to bed, it takes ages for me to fall asleep. I suppose I could with the School Services but I don't want to feel like I'm wasting their time."
s_1190_67,"Teacher with Depression Today I was diagnosed with an episode of major depression and anxiety. It has been a rough school year for me with a lot of changes that brought me to the point of uncontrollable crying for two days in a row, migraines, muscle tension, and an inability to really get any work done with my students. My principal suggested I take the day to go to the doctor, and now I'll be out for over two weeks attending group counselling sessions and starting antidepressants. Everyone is telling me that I need to take care of myself now, but I can't help feeling guilty. I feel I am letting everyone down and worry that I still won't be of any use when I return in a few weeks. This is supposed to make me feel better, but all I can think about is how awkward it will be when I return. What will my coworkers and students think? Has anyone else on this subreddit been through a similar situation?"
s_2130_82,"Nah, I know my potential. It's dead and gone. I'm never going to get to accomplish any of my goals in life. I tried the suicide hotline, it's just trite bullshit about life being worth living. But it isn't. Everyone is disappointed. My pastor, my AA friends, everyone. My psychiatrist doesn't want to see me anymore. I'm easily discarded. Heck, I left a message for my psychiatrist and he didn't even call back..
I'm trash. I've been left by everyone I ever loved. My adoptive parents never wanted me. I'm trash. I'm evil. I'm turning into my family. And they ruined me for life. I don't want to ruin. Anyone else. I've got to do the right thing and just go."
s_2415_2,"Happiness in sadness This is worthless. This is hopeless. I am worthless. I am hopeless. This is wrong. This is unfair. I am wrong. I hate myself. I hate everything. You annoy me. Happy people annoy me. I just want to see you suffer. Yes, my so-called best friend, my so-called loved ones, my so-called girlfriend, and my readers. I want everyone to suffer. I wasnt like this before. I remember I was such a lovely, innocent and cute kid. I had a fragile body but I had a kind soul and a heart of gold. My dad was an alcoholic. I thought he was a nice guy because he used to say so. I believed him. After all, he was my dad. It didnt bother me he stopped working so that he could spend all day with his love- alcohol and drugs. What bothered me was the fact that after getting drunk he used to beat my mom. I and my brother would intervene but only to face his wrath. Studying became difficult because locking doors, being a prisoner in your own home is difficult. Constant yelling and fighting becomes the cherry on top and there goes your mind in a spiral of negative thoughts. This went on for years. Day by day it became difficult to put a smile on my face and pretend everything was normal. I lived in a good area. Everyone is middle/upper middle class here. In 12th grade, it was the first time I had the urge to see everyone suffer. To see what it feels to suffer. Theyd then develop empathy and compassion. Yes, I wanted to see them suffer. I noticed I started envying my best friend when one day he showed me the DSLR camera that he had bought. I wanted one so badly but due to being poor I couldnt even afford it in my dreams. I was annoyed. I felt guilty but the feeling of envy was too strong. I decided to go to his home later that day. I told him wed chill and watch movies. I arrived at 4:00 PM at his house. I rang the door bell and we went to his room. We decided to watch Conjuring because I love horror. Before we started the movie I asked him to grab some snacks. He went to his kitchen and I thought this was the moment. I reached to the stool on which his camera was resting. I grabbed it and threw it out the window next to me. My friend asked what was that sound? I told him I dont know. I turned off the lights and rationalized to him that true fun of horror is in the dark. After the movie finished I came back home. Next day, he told me he cant find his camera anywhere. I acted concerned but deep down I was ecstatic. Seeing him sad made me happy. I slowly started envying when I saw people having fun and posting pictures on Facebook. I needed to see someone suffer. I met my girlfriend and she told me she will be playing guitar in a local competition and I had to be there. I always wanted to play guitar but I never had a knack of it. I was jealous of her talent. She was looking forward to the competition. A day before the competition I went over to her house. I thought about pulling a string of her guitar but knew she could find a replacement of that. I needed something more permanent. I took a needle and started playfully scare her. I made it seem look like an accident and managed to stab her left index finger. She started screaming and crying. She was bleeding a lot. I brought some chilled water to wash the blood and later band-aided her finger. It all seemed like a prank gone wrong and that I didnt do it deliberately. She forgave me but was dejected because no way she could perform next morning because she couldnt even play the chords properly with her injured finger. I felt amazing. I acted as if I was sorry and I gave her a passionate kiss. She was still dejected because she was so excited to play at the competition. I felt ecstatic once again. Deep down I was thrilled and seeing her sad made me happy. So now Im writing this as I crave that ecstatic feeling once again. Are you enjoying reading stories here? Well, well see how you will read tomorrow when youll wake up with your eyes stitched. Im coming for you."
s_2986_448,"everyone hates having me around them
As someone who used to think the same thing, I can assure you that they don't. I have atrocious self-esteem (it's getting better, and I'll tell you why), and frequently would go out with my friends and return home feeling like shit because of all the stupid things I've said or done. Focus in every tiny little thing that indicates that someone hated me, even though they'd been friends with me for years. I was utterly convinced that all these people despised me. This was because I deliberately sought out *excuses* to hate myself - evidence to support the warped view I had of myself. I would focus on every little thing I had done, and either blow it way out of proportion (like a joke that wasn't THAT funny, but could have been worse, becoming the most stupid fucking thing I've ever said) or come up with reasons why they actually hate me for it - which are completely unreasonable. I focused on every little bad thing I'd done and completely ignored everything good, or rationalised the good things to actually be a way to hate myself. So all I saw were bad things, all the time. You, I think, are doing the same. My friends, not being severely depressed, only saw the many good things - good jokes, kind gestures, insightful statements, general friend things - and none of the bad, because I hadn't actually done anything wrong. They thought I was cool. But I just couldn't see it, because I was so determined to prove them all wrong and took such pleasure in destroying myself. In summary, I can assure you that people love to be around you. You either don't notice the signs or are deliberately telling yourself they're wrong. If they didn't like you, they'd tell you to fuck off to your face."
s_1551_278,"Ive been able to forgive myself, but I still hold a lot of sadness and frustration towards things that happened to me I feel like I dont blame myself anymore, but I still feel like a lot of the bad shit that happened to me in the past was gonna happen regardless of the choices I made. But the more I think about it the more frustrated I get knowing how helpless I was, completely at the mercy of whatever the fuck life decided to hit me with. It just doesnt make any sense. Do things happen for a reason? Or is it more so shit happens? If its the former I can kinda find hope and motivation feeling like I matter and my life has a purpose. If its the ladder I just feel pissed off, it makes me feel like nothing matters. I need an answer, not knowing which it is leads to indecision and procrastination. Either way I just want to make up for lost time starting now, I want to take full ownership of my life. I dont want to accept that I cant do anything at any stage in life."
s_982_722,"I attempted suicide. Some of you will know me for the post that almost nobody could read. Here's a link in case you don't know what I'm talking about. <URL>
Don't worry, I'm not posting anything like that again. I've learned my lesson, and it drove me near to death's cold hand. I tried starving myself to death. Alone, isolated, and hungry, I collapsed from hunger 12 days into the fast. I was absolutely prepared to die, but I woke up mere hours later in the hospital. I gave my family an extreme heart attack. They asked why I did it, and I told them the whole story. A few weeks ago, I met a girl online. It was through her older sister. On YouTube, she left a comment on one of my videos saying it made her day and that she had been contemplating suicide as well. Two days later, she decided against it. It wasn't just chatting with me. She liked the company she had at home which also convinced her, and it included her sister. When the girl and I were talking on Skype, she had to step away. Her little sister filled in for her. She and I shared pictures and decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend after just an hour of chatting. She stayed on social media for as long as she could just to see if I would log on. I would go on just to talk to her. But, suddenly, she just vanished from social media. Her older sister said she had committed suicide herself. A knife through the stomach. Bled to death. Despite telling my family all of this, I conveniently left out the part about writing a cipher and trying to reach her through a public message. Who the hell would believe that? I don't even believe she heard me anymore. I was told all my life that people who commit suicide neither go to heaven nor hell. Somewhere different. A special limbo of unforgiving nothingness I guess. I wanted to say a proper goodbye. I found a cipher online. If I encrypted a letter to her and posted it somewhere public, she would get the message as soon as someone could decipher it. The rules were simple. People had to see it publicly and I couldn't tell anyone is was a cipher, I couldn't tell anyone to decipher it, and I couldn't give anyone the solution. The last rule is I could only post it to one website and only once on that website. I posted to reddit. Other sites were no good since I had no friends to see it, and they wouldn't care. And then they would know about my online relationship. The creepypasta subreddit was perfect. I would have someone decipher it and not think I was serious. But I still wanted to see her. My poor logic clouded my better judgment. The foggy road led to one place for all suicides. All suicides lead to Rome? If I was dead, I was going to see her. That's how it worked in the way I thought about it. But I'm not brave enough to plunge a knife through my heart or jump off a building. And now my memory of the cipher feels fuzzy. Everytime I think about it, I seem to remember it less, and it causes me to feel desperate to see her. Ill be in therapy for a while to get over this. This bottle inside me needed to be open."
s_1120_172,I'm myself. And this January while on LSD. Best decision I ever made.
s_1581_831,While it's not for everyone meds changed my life. I no longer feel suicidal or cry for no reason. I hope it works out for you!
s_2139_332,"Is this mild, moderate or severe depression? Ok im usually always depressed. But right now it doesnt feel as extreme. But I feel kind of bleh. Just like tired, mentally and physically, somewhat suicidal and not really looking forward to anything. I dont really smile as much anymore. I dont want to hang with friends or talk on the phone. I dont feel overwhelming sadness though. And I dont feel completely hopeless just not excited and doubtful of my future. I could use a good cry right now but I can hardly ever cry at all so theres that. Bro I just want the happiness that comes with hypomania again ."
s_2247_51,"Yeah I was worrying about all that too. I'm bi and trying to see me as masculine in any situation disgusted me because well I'm also trying to pass in my head. But then one day it clicked. I'm a Tomboy. Just because I'm a trans girl doesn't mean I can't wear baseball caps and shoot guns. I mean it all seems so simple, but it's like now I know who ever I'm sexuality active with it's still me every time."
s_2338_318,I found a really addicting low calorie dressing and basically just eat huge bowls of romaine with a little of that dressing (measured) onto it. Does it get better or am I destined to be so hungry the rest of my life?
s_891_1154,"I'm 45 But I Have Only Lived Through 19 Years As of right now I am 45 years old, but I have only really lived 19 years. Since I was young my life would jump forward every time something terrible would happen to me. The first time it happened was when I was 6 years old. That is the year that my father was involved in a hit and run. I remember wanting to cry, but before I knew it I felt like all of my grief was gone. I felt at piece, but I felt extremely different. My mother came in my room and told me to get ready for school. Somehow I knew where all of my clothes were, but they felt like they were much too big to fit me. When I put my shirt and pants on I realized they fit me perfectly. I went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, but when I walked in I saw my own reflection. I was a lot taller than before, and my face looked a lot more different. When I ate my breakfast my mother dropped me off at a middle school. After 30 seconds of confusion I suddenly knew which class to go to, and who my friends were. I knew that I was in 7th grade since I was now 12. I knew that I had a bully, but he was never really that bad. His name was James, and he was always yelled at by his mother when she picked him up from school. My friends name was Brian and he was obsessed with his music. Everything was okay with my life for the next two years. I met my first crush, but she never liked me back. Brian and I grew closer every day since we had the same classes, and James ended up moving away. Everything was fine until my 14th birthday when my grandfather had a heart attack in our living room while I was blowing out my candles. After my mother received a call telling her that my grandfather didnt make it I started to cry. Just moments later I open my eyes to find myself sitting at a red light. I looked to my left expecting to see my mother driving, but found a steering wheel in front of me instead. That is when I had my first meltdown. I screamed at the mirrors that showed a face of a grown man, and I punched the steering wheel until my hands filled with pain. I looked outside the car window when I managed to calm down and realized that everything was different. I knew I was in the same city I always lived in, but there were stores I never even heard of. The park I used to go to all of the time was torn down and replaced with a mattress store. When I heard the car behind me honking I started to drive to my house. I dont know how I knew how to drive, but somehow I knew what to do and it felt completely natural. I got to my house to see an old lady sitting outside of the house. When I approached her to ask her if she were lost I was struck with the realization that it was my mother. Fragile and old, but still sitting there with the smile she always had for me. She asked me how I did on the first year of college and I numbly told her that I received all As and made it to the Deans list. I told her I was feeling sick and she told me to go to my room with a worried look on her face. When I got to my room I sat on my bed and began to remember everything that happened the last 7 years. Brian moved away when I was 13, and my favorite math teacher was found dead and lying on his desk completely still. He was dead for 8 hours before they found him. Not much happened afterwards. I graduated high school and went to my first year of college. The girl that I had a crush on is now my girlfriend. We havent had sex yet, but we both decided to wait until we were married. After four years I graduated college and immediately found a wonderful job as an editor. The day I graduated I got on one knee to propose to the love of my life and she said yes. We decided that the next September would be the best time for us to get married to get ourselves financially and emotionally prepared. Three months before our wedding my fianc passed away in a hospital. Knowing what would happen and the depression of her dying hit me at once and I unwillingly started to cry. I then found myself sitting in a coffee shop drinking a regular iced coffee. I look around to see where I am and found myself in the city I grew up in, but this time everything was different. People have started to look lifeless and uninterested with whatever they were doing. A baby was sitting at the table next to me just staring at me without any type of emotion. The mother took a look at me and said What the fuck are you looking at? I was blown away not by her statement but by how monotone she said it. I turned around and sat silently. I know that I am now 32 and I befriended James when he moved next door to me. The fact that he bullied me when we were so young did not affect how close we ended up getting. Two years after we became friends James was found in his living room with his intestines wrapped around his head and his organs spread around his body. Before I start remembering anything else I ran to my mothers house to make sure she was still alive. When I was 3 houses away I saw that my mother was rocking back and forth in her favorite chair outside. I go up to her and try to hug her, but she pushed me off and resumed rocking. I looked at her, but she refused to turn my way. When I turned her to face me I fell back onto the ground. Her face was the same but her lips were placed in a frown that immediately told me she hated everything about me. Her eyes were pure black as she said Dont fucking touch me again if you want to keep your hands. It was monotone, but it made me start to shake in fear. I went three streets over to my house and I laid in my bed for the next three days trying to figure out what the hell was happening. After three days I ran out of food so I went to the store. Again, everyone is expressionless and just going through the motions of shopping. One person was lying on the floor acting like he was walking. I stared at him for a couple of minutes thinking of a way to help him, but a lady hit him with the cart and started to drag him away. I decided right then and there to just live my life as if nothing was different. I got another job as a salesman and nothing happened for the next 5 years. After five years I decided to revisit my mother. I drove there and pulled into her driveway. She was still rocking on her chair and I walked up to her. I grabbed her shoulder and lifted her head thinking she just drifted off, but her head fell off her neck and into my hands. I screamed and dropped her head and it rolled to the side of my foot. I look down and see that her face is littered with holes all across her face. Maggots were going in and out of the holes and I turn around and go to my car. I start to cry and I know that I am about to lose even more of my life. I woke up and found myself in a chair. The chair that is in front of the computer I am posting this on now. To tell you all that I remember everything now. About how I poisoned my math teachers apple I gave him at five pm after he tutored me. I dont know why I did it, but I was tired of seeing people I cared about dying all around me. I remember slicing Jamess stomach open and ripping out his intestines and wrapping them around his face. I took out his organs and spread them all around him. They never found his heart because I buried it beside the tree we would always sit at and drink beers together. I am just tired of seeing people dying all around me, and I dont know why people have stopped showing emotions. I dont know why my mother was dead for so long without anybody alerting the police or even an ambulance. All I know is that I am not going to lose any more of my life. Please dont get close to me, because I will try my very best to hold onto the last few years I [have] (<URL>)."
s_2007_693,I guess I'm depressed I didn't watch documentary for years and now I'm watching racoons hunting crabs
s_1738_327,It's horrible but I feel like it is impossible for me to ever be good at anything. I'm broken inside out. Some people are so blessed that they have this talent and privilege to do anything they want. They don't know what it's like to be a scarecrow without a brain.
s_1692_637,"Ive been getting calls through my disconnected landline I couldn't take the calls any more. I just couldn't take *knowing*. There was nothing I could do to stop them from coming through; I had to put an end to it. nbsp;
It all started this summer, when I was playing with my oldest daughter, Chrissie. My kid absolutely loved toy cars, so I had given her my Matchbox collection, which Id kept in the attic since my childhood. She was driving some farm animal around on the hood of my most prized possession: a classic fire truck with all its original parts and an unblemished paint job, when she suddenly stopped our caravan halfway to Mount Marshmallow Snowflakes, also known as the white leather sofa in the corner. nbsp;
""Daddy."", she said, her voice sweet and innocent. nbsp;
""Yes, honey?"", nbsp;
""Daddy, dont answer the phone."", she told me. nbsp;
Having not heard my phone ringing, I wasn't sure what she meant by that. She had probably seen the screen on my Smartphone lighting up from an incoming call. I had a tendency to forget to un-mute the thing after meetings at the office. I guessed that Chrissie didn't want our playtime to end, so I assured her daddy wasn't going anywhere, and left the phone alone. She smiled, and we continued our game. Later, I checked my call history, but discovered that there hadn't been any incoming calls. I didn't really give it much thought, to be honest. nbsp;
A few weeks later, the same thing happened while we were playing doctor and giving Mr. Fuzzy Wuzzy his annual check-up. Chrissie looked up towards the kitchen and dropped her stuffed bear. nbsp;
""Daddy, dont answer the phone."", whispered Chrissie, in a frightened tone. nbsp;
This time, I chose not to heed her warning. I got up to check my Smartphone right away: no incoming calls. Following Chrissies gaze, I realized that she was actually looking at the old telephone on the kitchen wall. We had disconnected the landline and unplugged it years ago. My wife had been asking me to take it down since the day Id cancelled our residential phone services. We had both gotten cellphones and wanted to put the money towards something more useful. The bulky white device was screwed into the wall. I kept forgetting to dismount it whenever I had my tools out, and I was too lazy to get them from the garage for such a menial task. I'm shocked my wife didn't wind up removing it herself, since it bothered her so much. nbsp;
""Honey, thats not a real phone. No ones calling."", I told Chrissie, ruffling her hair. nbsp;
It took Chrissie a few moments, but she eventually went back to playing as though nothing had happened. It was probably some kind of new game she had learned in school or something. She was seven, and had a bunch of imaginary friends. Maybe shed gotten into an argument with Princess Pufflecakes, and she didn't want to take her call. I didn't worry about it too much. nbsp;
It wasnt until the third imaginary call that I started to get concerned. Chrissie and I were having a Ninja Turtles Tea Party. I was dressed in a pink tutu with Michelangelos bandana and a crown on my head ---*never* underestimate what a father would do to put a smile on his kids face--- and got up to get more juice. Chrissie grabbed me by my frilly skirt, looking absolutely terrified. nbsp;
""Daddy, dont answer the phone."", she pleaded. nbsp;
There was something in her eyes that compelled me to put an end to her weird game. She really looked freaked out: I no longer thought she was playing some kind of reverse-psychology Simon Says. If she was making it up, why did she look genuinely worried? nbsp;
""It might be important, squirt. Dont worry. Daddy will tell those evil telemarketers to leave you alone."", I playfully replied as I snuck out of her grasp. nbsp;
I made my way to the kitchen, where I picked up the receiver, and turned towards my daughter to give her a reassuring thumbs-up. Bringing the receiver to my ear, I fully expected to hear silence. Silence, however, was not what I heard. There was static on the line, which surprised me enough that I pulled the phone away for a moment to look at it in disbelief. When I brought it back to my ear, I heard a voice on the other end. nbsp;
""232 Jeanne DArc Road, fire, 12."", whispered a man tonelessly. nbsp;
""What the fu---fudgesicles?"", I answered, perplexed. nbsp;
My wife must have been playing a trick on me. She had probably convinced Chrissie to help her out so Id do my job and get rid of the phone. I immediately yanked the cord, and it came flying towards me, hitting me square in the face. I was stunned: it was far too loose to have been in the jack. When I asked my wife about it, she had no idea what I was talking about. nbsp;
The next morning, I absent-mindedly checked my emails while the news played in the background. There was a segment about a fire in an apartment complex. At first, I didn't pay it much attention, but then I heard the address: 232 Jeanne DArc Road. Twelve residents had perished in the inferno. I nearly dropped my #1 DAD coffee mug on the floor. I didnt know what to do. It was too late to call the police and tell them Id gotten a creepy warning call about the fire. Theyd think I was a nutter, or an attention-seeker. I took a moment to calm down and rationalize what had happened. It was just a very weird and very scary coincidence. nbsp;
Days later, I was playing Sudoku on the couch when Chrissie walked over, wearing a worried expression on her face. nbsp;
""Daddy, dont answer the phone."", she whimpered, tears in her eyes. nbsp;
Something in the pit of my stomach told me not to go, but I had to know. I made my way to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. This time, a British-sounding woman spoke to me through the disconnected phone. nbsp;
""15 Vanier Street, fire, 3."", she announced. nbsp;
Logically, youd think Id go to the police or fire station to tell them what was going to happenbut heres the thingI've watched the shows, so I know how these things pan out. You've got an attractive male protagonist who gets a forewarning, which is accurate: I won the most handsome daddy of the year award, as decided on by my very unbiased daughters on fathers day last year (I even have a trophy to prove it). The protagonist then tells the cops about his predictions. Naturally, the cops accuse *him* of being the perpetrator. They lock him up, but he gets out on some technicality, then rushes to the scene of the would-be crime and saves the day. He becomes a true hero in the eyes of everyone. Close curtains. Yeah, I'm not *that* guy. I'm not saying I'm a cowardbut, lookI've got two daughters to care for. I cant go putting myself in dangerous situations where I could realistically wind up dead. Instead, I bought a disposable phone and used it to call the police. nbsp;
In the past ten years, there have been a lot of suspicious fires in our city, leading police to suspect theres a pyromaniac on the loose. Thus far, he or she has burned down: a church, a postal office, an outdoor mall, and a smaller post office inside a mall. I'm going to let you take a wild guess as to what the police officer had to say when I warned him about the potential fire at 15 Vanier Street. If you guessed, ""He accused you of being the pyromaniac and asked that you turn yourself in."", then you deserve a cookie, because thats exactly what happened. I hung up and tossed the phone in a trashcan across town. The next day, I watched as a news crew covered the story. The authorities had sent police officers to investigate what turned out to be an abandoned building. Three officers had gotten locked in the basement. A fire broke out, and none of them made it out. I felt guilty and powerless. If I hadn't warned them, the cops wouldn't have been in there, and no one would have died. It was my fault. I couldn't sleep a wink that night, the horrid feeling in my gut eating away at me. nbsp;
The process repeated over the course of the next few months. Chrissie would ask me not to answer the phone, Id pick it up, and Id hear a different voice speaking. Id be given an address, method of death, and amount of people killed. 89 Oosgrove Avenue, knife, 1. Mrs. Larkin had been stabbed to death during a home invasion. 60 Star Circle, gas leak, 10. The Campbells were enjoying a family reunion, and failed to notice the smell of rotten eggs. 79 Jean-Jacques Lussier, gun, 3. Maria, Jamie, and Alison were shot dead while walking home in the early hours of the morning, and so on and so forth, until I just couldn't take it any more. I remember all their names and faces: I saw them on the news reports. I think about them when I go to bed, knowing that there was nothing I could do to save them, but tormented by the fact that I didn't even try. Depression started to creep over me, and I could barely eat or sleep. My wife started to get worried, but I couldn't tell her: I was afraid shed be disappointed in me for my inaction, so I lied. I told her I was stressed out because of work. nbsp;
A few weeks ago, I had finally had enough. Unable to keep myself from answering these phantom calls, I decided there was no other option. I stormed into my garage, grabbed my tools, and desperately unscrewed the phone from the wall. As I held the device, I felt a wave of anger rush over me. This thingthis damned telephoneit had caused me so much grief. I took it to the driveway, and furiously smashed it into the concrete with a hammer until there was nothing left but dust and debris. When it was over, I cleaned the mess. The sensation of freedom was euphoric. My whole body tingled as my heavy burden lifted from my shoulders. That night, I made our favourite family meal and dessert to celebrate. My wife was relieved that I had gotten over what ever it was that had been bothering me, and overjoyed that the eyesore in the kitchen had finally been removed. nbsp;
I have a piece of advice for you. If you have a disconnected landline and havent gotten around to removing it, please take a lesson from me: get rid of it immediately and, above all else, do NOT pick up the receiver. nbsp;
My life has returned to normal since I got rid of the wretched phone. As I am typing this, my wife is giving our youngest daughter a bath. I can hear them singing the bubble bath song and giggling. Chrissie is in the living room with me. Shes playing with this silly pink Disney phone. Its one of those fancy schmancy glittery toys: a pimped out version of the Fisher Price rotary phone I used to have when I was a kid. Every dial projects a message from one of the Disney Princesses. Its weird, shes never shown any interest in it before. Its not a real phone: it doesn't even have a cordbuttheres that look in her eyes again. Shes worriedI know what she wants to say. No: its just a toy. Its just a toy. Its just a toy, butIm going to check. I need to know
Shit. I can hear static on the other end. I-its a mans voice...Hes sayingits my addressp-propane explosion4
I need to get my girls out of here. Pleaseplease dont let it be too late"
s_212_394,"Is having a passion for something really that good? I don't have a passion for anything I lost interest in most things about the age of 10 (idk what happened to me maybe some event or one of my childhood operations something gone wrong) after losing it at 10; my time became occupied with philosophy and just wasting time mindlessly or on intellectual things like science and math. I know people who have a passion but it seems pointless, one friend is in love with cars but he wastes all of his money and screws himself over, he says that he loves it and enjoys it but it seems like an illusion and completely unjustified another friend is the exact same but with computers
btw how do you think I lost my passion for life and certain fields like math and technology?"
s_2462_564,"No worries, youre not coming across mean at all. I agree with you, I dont think Im meant for this at all. Its weird, because I loved helping upset customers at my customer service desk and always found ways to turn their experiences around but I just dont have the knack for it here. Right now Im currently on indeed and searching elsewhere, I think my fianc will be disappointed. I worked a double and made good tips on Saturday night and had an okay time, but besides that everyday has sucked. My fianc loves the extra cash that comes from serving, but I think things are just gonna keep going downhill from here lol. Ive cried twice in one week, not a good sign at all"
s_2625_134,"I was seeing a therapist who worked with me doing CBT, it wasn't an 18 week course but I saw him for around 6 months. I'm not sure how formal it was but he had me complete worksheets on my thoughts. I didn't see any improvement and he started telling me I have the tools to be happy but I'm not putting the effort in. So... I stopped going because I felt like a failure."
s_595_203,"I thought about killing myself. Made the arrangement, then I though about my mother. I don't know if it was the survival instinct of my brain or what. But I realized the most selfish thing I could do was to kill myself knowing it would absolutely destroy my mother. She's the only reason I've not ended it. When she dies, I don't think I'll let myself live long enough to feel any pain. But for now, she's my anchor. Maybe you should find an anchor, that gives your life some meaning. May be just pretend. By u know what they say. Fake it till u make it friend."
s_1404_817,depression made me so numb I cant even cry. im always sad but I cant even cry
s_1404_955,Then why is there nothing positive in my life? I haven't enjoyed anything the last 5 years
s_1900_175,"Never buy a mattress off of Craigslist - 2 So like I said in my first post I unblocked Brians number and tried to get in touch with him again but it said it was disconnected. Of course I gave the number to the police to try and track but I have yet to hear any news from them, which is incredibly discouraging. They say you only have 48 hours to find a missing person and I am approaching that number very quickly. I cant I just cant lose my family. My wife is the sweetest, most loving and wonderful mother to our beautiful, vibrant daughter. I remember when she was born and sorry. I have been thinking a lot about that night. I guess it is the only thing pushing me on. * I have to find my family!* One of the comments mentioned checking my car for a tracking device. Dont know why I didnt think of it before so I went out last night before I went to work and after a few minutes of checking I did find something under the rear bumper, on my exhaust pipe. I dont know if it is a tracking device or what but I turned it in to the police on my way to work. Why didnt they think to check my car? Anyway I didnt really feel like working much. I was distracted and exhausted. My boss told me to take a few nights off, paid, to clear my head. I couldnt believe it, not because it is out of the ordinary but he is just a hardass most of the time I didnt think he had a soft spot on him. I took full advantage of it by heading back up to the storage site to see if I could find anything. Like I mentioned in my first post I work two jobs, one being warehouse stocking overnight and during the day I work for a home security company called Vivint installing and servicing home systems. One of the neat things we offer is a camera that you can access from anywhere in the world and watch a live stream. Most people use it as a nanny cam or to see what their pets do while they are gone but I had a great idea. Id set one up on the roof and then I could watch it from my work laptop to see if anyone is moving mattresses around. If I could get a visual on the guy we could catch him! So I headed up to the site and climbed up the backside of one of the buildings that had the humidity controlled units. According to the receptionist they only have 24 of these units and since they are selling a ton of mattresses I figured that is a unit they would need to have. There were cameras all over the place so I couldnt get a perfect angle or see the whole row of units but I was able to place it in such a way that I could see about two thirds of them. Not ideal but better than nothing. The camera is tiny so I wasnt worried about anyone finding it and I know it can run for over 6 months on a fresh battery. Since I dont have anywhere to sleep at home I decided Id just recline the seat in my car and try to snooze a little while keeping an eye on the footage. Now I know a lot of you are probably thinking There is no way Brian is ever coming back to that place. And while I agree with you, what else can I do? I have to have hope, to believe they are still alive and unhurt. It is the only thing keeping me going. I am sure you can understand that. I must have actually fallen asleep because a train horn startled me and I jerked up, knocking the laptop off of my lap. The train was moving pretty slowly, even slower than most around here and there was a van and a few cars waiting at the crossing. It took a moment to remember where I was and rub the sleep out of my eyes. It was 3AM. I rewound the footage in triple speed to see if anyone had shown up during the hour and a half that I was laying there and only twenty minutes before a 15-passenger van showed up just inside the frame of the camera. It was hard to tell but I am pretty sure it was the receptionist that was there the day we came to buy the mattress. Two guys were hauling mattresses out of the back of the van and into one of the units. I started to get excited. I found him! Then I got sick to my stomach. From inside of the unit came five women, most of them older but one was pretty young. I couldnt see their faces because of the distance from the camera but I could see that they were chained together and gagged with something. One of the guys gave something to the receptionist lady, most likely money, and they piled into the van and drove off. Wait, I thought, didnt I just see a van? I looked up and the train was gone, the cars that were waiting now far off in the distance. I turned on my car and took off after the fading tail-lights, praying Id be able to catch up and hope they hadnt already turned off somewhere. I grabbed my phone and called the police, telling them everything that transpired and where I was/direction I was heading. They told me to pull over and to stop following but screw that - I floored it even more and tried to close the distance. Pretty soon I heard sirens from several different directions but I had lost sight of the van, or maybe never had sight of it. When I finally caught up to the taillights I was chasing they belonged to a Corolla or something. About that time my phone went off. It was the police, they had found the van! I drove my way over, only a few blocks east of where I was, hoping for good news. When I got there they had two men in cuffs in the back of a squad car which left soon after. Five women were laying on gurneys being tended to by medical staff, but none were my wife or daughter. I was relieved, happy, thankful that they were safe, but also devastated. Where was my family? After interrogation or whatever of the men and the women that were saved it was determined that they would have been sold as slaves human trafficking. The police are still looking for my family, of course, but they arent acting very positive about the whole thing. I just left my day job because my boss caught me still watching footage of the unit and told me to just go home. I know it sounds stupid but what else can I do? I cant eat or sleep or even think without feeling the need to vomit. My family, slaves. Sold to some freak that will do God knows what to them? My eleven month old daughter. So beautiful, so innocent. Daddy is going to find you! ----------------
**UPDATE**
So far no one has come back to that unit other than police. I watched them drag everything out, sick to my stomach. I watched their cars drive off full of evidence. Everyone seems to have vanished that was connected to this aside from the two guys that were arrested. They havent given up any information from what the station is telling me. I dont know why but I started to browse Craigslist again to see if any new ads were put up similar to the one I had responded to. I didnt find anything but I did remember a few stories Id heard about the Deep Web/Dark Web and how human trafficking goes down on those sites. I dove head first into that awful area of cyberspace trying to find anything that could help me find my family. The things I found only made me that much sicker and more worried about my family. Who could do such things to fellow human beings? I know we are in a sick, confused world but oh I will just stop there. I dont want to upset anyone by the things I saw. After an hour of searching I was about to give up when I found something hosted by BMK. I had seen it before and passed it by but looking at it again jogged my memory. The only reason it stood out to me at all is because of the CL ad. Brian had called himself the Mattress King. It is a pretty standard claim, to be fair, but I didnt think I could pass up an opportunity even if it wasnt him. I responded to it with an old e-mail I hadnt used since probably high school and got a response almost immediately. $5000 cash for a female. $4000 for a male. Discounts for age. An address to meet at and a time. When I plugged the address in I was surprised to see how close it was to the storage facility. One of your comments was right, they kept operations close. Obviously I dont have the cash but I have a gun. What mid-westerner doesnt? I am on my way right now. I dont want to be late. ----------
**FINAL UPDATE**
So as I said I like being early and I figured my old pal Brian would be late to this arrangement. I got there an hour ahead of time to scope out the place and find a good spot to take him out. I found a nice loft where I could overlook the big, open factory floor. I parked my car a ways away at a thrift store parking lot and walked to it with a guitar case - hiding my .22. I guessed they would probably have a few people out front waiting for me to come in and Brian inside with the lineup of women. Fortunately I guessed correctly. A total of six armed people showed up, four taking position somewhere outside. Brian and the receptionist stood inside with twenty women. My heart skipped a beat when I saw my wife among them. I almost cried out right then and there but I stifled it in time. I took careful aim and busted Brian's knee with the first shot. I'm assuming he went into shock because he dropped and laid there moaning for the entirety of my visit. My next shot took out the receptionist as she ran. The girls started screaming right away, obviously not knowing what was going on. A guy from outside came in but I was already back outside on my way down. I have never been happier than right then about my grandad forcing me to go hunting every year and ""earn my dinner"". It was paying off! It was then that I called the police. I waited until sirens were nearing before I shot the next two guards in the leg. Suffer for your sins. I made my way inside and used one of the guards handguns to finish Brian and the other guy with him after I let him see my face. I don't think my wife even noticed me until I put my hand on her face. I'm not sure where the last one ran off to but he didn't bother us as I unlocked the women and hugged my wife. * Where's my baby? Is she ok?* She just shook her head. We cried, oblivious to the police filtering in. [](<URL>)"
s_1190_70,"Just need to rant... Today was an awful day. It was supposed to be a great day because my kids put on a play showing off their awesome reading skills to their parents and other students at the school (my kids are in Kindergarten, for the record). Then we received a memo that there would be assemblies and field trips during the day. Also, my full time aide would be pulled out for pretty much all day. He's been pulled from my room every day for the past week, so I shouldn't have been surprised. Why is this a big deal? Well, because I have a class of 30 kids and he's in charge of our stage crew who are designing costumes, scenery, and props so everyone is involved in the play. Since he keeps getting pulled out, we haven't gotten practice or to finish those things. There was an aide who offered to help, but she didn't finish until 30 minutes after all of the parents and students had arrived to watch the performance. I had to improve while waiting. I ended up leading everyone in nursery rhymes and Simon Says. Not to mention a student cut herself with fabric scissors she found laying around so deeply that she wouldn't stop bleeding for like 10 minutes. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as I thought it was, but it's frustrating planning all of these fun things and then not being ready because admin decides to pull my aide and change the day. I feel like a failure for not being able to figure it out and be ready for what was supposed to be a great day. In the end, it was probably my stress that made the day not as great as it should have been for the kids. I feel like I have failed my kids by not being prepared. THAT is the worst feeling of all."
s_2130_1123,"I'm a failure so don't be like me, stop drinking today. I feel, and am pretty sure that it's a fact that I'm a failure. I applied for a coding bootcamp. Because of a number of reasons, but mainly because I wanted someone else to tell me that I'm good enough and smart enough. Apparently, I'm neither. I didn't get in. Being as I completely screwed my career, I need an extra something to get me back into the proper work force. The freelance writing thing isn't going great. Work has been utterly dead since September. My husband goes back to work in a few days, he'd been out due to a workplace injury. And now I feel very alone and useless. I started drinking to excess because I hated being a Housewife. I felt like there had to be more to me than cooking and cleaning and bullshit like that. But apparently I'm wrong. I've failed at life. I'm starting to come to the realization that I'm just not supposed to be around anymore. Anyway, I'm not writing this to be like ah , save me. But to tell the person who hasn't fucked their entire life up yet. To not fuck up your entire life up. And stop drinking before you become a failure like me."
s_885_181,"Concentration, multi-tasking and love life Does anybody here have a boyfriend or girlfriend? Ive had thoughts about having one in the future but I personally find it difficult to concentrate on more than one thing at once. Like for example, I find it difficult to listen to somebody who speaks in my second language when Im cleaning the dishes; difficulty multi-tasking. Any tips on tackling this?"
s_439_72,"What's the point? My wife came to me at the beginning of January saying she wanted a divorce (married 9 years, together for 11). I wanted to try and work things out but she was not at all interested. She was convinced that we would never work out and didn't want to 'waste her time' working on a relationship that was destined to fail. I was already in a depressed state and this did not help things along. I ended up checking myself into a hospital for most of February. During that time she did basically everything she could to abandon me. She never visited, didn't bring our kids to see me, she only called me once. I found out after I was discharged that she started a relationship with a coworker while I was hospitalized. Now we barely communicate even though nothing has been finalized. We are working out a custody agreement but it's not finished and we haven't even discussed dividing assets other than cars. She's totally moved on with her other guy and I feel more and more lonely every day. I'm sure that dating someone else right now would be a bad idea anyway but I'm feeling pretty hopeless about my future prospects. I've never been great at meeting people in general and women in particular and between work and being with my kids I don't know when I'd have time to anyway. I'm not an incredibly social person. Plus, I feel like I am a really bad dating prospect. I'm 33, soon to be divorced, I have 2 kids, suffer from depression, I'm employed at least but by no means am I wealthy, I'm probably about average in the looks department. I just keep looking into the future and seeing me alone and it's really hard to keep positive about anything right now. I'm cross posting this to r/depression because I don't know how much of this is normal end-of-marriage feelings and how much is my depression talking."
s_84_60,"I never met my father. In the past, I struggled often because I always see little girls holding fathers' hands and I get extremely upset/jealous a bit, maybe. Then I would get really angry at times. I wasn't really handling it well, growing up. I was also very fragile because I kept losing family members and friends (they died) around me. So it was difficult for my mother to be able to tell me. She wanted to wait until I get older; when I'm more mentally and emotionally prepared for the big, full story about my father. I was 24 years old when I found out. Father's Day rolled around in June 2013. Then I began to wonder about my father again. I haven't thought about him for a couple of years until for some reason, I wanted answers. I felt ready to know what kind of father he was. I researched, trying to find answers and I ended up finding his death certificate along with my half-brother's signature and phone number (I didn't know I had half-siblings). Sadly I found out he passed in February 2010. I was disappointed because I had planned on contacting him and try to get to know him and hope to meet him in person. But I finally got in contact with my half siblings (one half brother and one half sister) I never knew until two years ago and they told me many stories about him. Most of the stories weren't good, hence is why my mother protected me my whole life from not knowing what kind of father he was (he had a serious problem with alcohol and he was involved in drugs). So my mom finally told me her story and everything made sense from there. Even if I had meet him in person, I will end up feeling disappointed, seeing how my father turned out. I learned the hard way, so for me, it's better that I know what kind of person he was and I would be better off without him in my life. He wasn't a good person, especially to my half siblings. They had it really rough, growing up around him and especially when he ran out on them multiple times and is good at disappearing. He was no father figure. Regardless with the struggles, growing up, I turned out fine. I wouldn't be the person I am today. I look up to my grandfather, as if he's my father. I love him dearly. I love my family. I wouldn't have it any other way."
s_393_1862,"I still cry, 3 months past..."
s_1160_112,"I see... unfortunately I have PCOS and my menstruation isn't regular. I'm also taking medicine to work on that. I find mindset training hard to maintain. I'd just breath slowly and try to concentrate on my body, although it doesn't last long it still helps a bit? I used to blame myself for not thriving in gymnastics. But as you said, it reminds me that I should accept my traits as this is what forms me. I'll continue on training with lower, acceptable goals! Thanks for your reply:)"
s_839_1521,"I want a movie that will make me cry I was wondering if you guys can suggest a movie that will make me cry. I'm a guy and I've seen a lot of movies, but none have made me cry. I hear people all the time talking about a movie they saw that made them cry, and I want to experience that. I want to see a movie that affects me so much on a personal/mental/emotional level that it makes me cry. I don't really know why I want to experience this other than the fact that I haven't ever experienced it. There are a few movies though that have brought me close to tears such as Requiem for a Dream and Lion King. I would say it takes a lot to make me cry. I mean I cried when my golden retriever died and I cried when my grandparents died, but that's basically it. A friends son past away recently and I didn't even cry (I don't mean that in a proud way). I mean sure I was sad, but I didn't cry. So I think it has to affect me on a personal level. So can you guys suggest a movie so incredibly sad and depressing that if it doesn't make me cry then there's something wrong with me?"
s_1514_136,"The Grey Riders (Part Eleven) [1](<URL>) [2](<URL>) [3](<URL>) [4](<URL>) [Sick Day](<URL>) [5.1](<URL>) [5.2](<URL>) [5.3](<URL>) [5.4](<URL>) [5.F](<URL>) [6](<URL>) [7](<URL>) [8](<URL>) [9](<URL>) [10](<URL>)
The room the four of us had chosen for training held the shape of a long and flat storage tank. Very similar to the space the Yngtaks had been held in, it could have supported our full thousand men, but it was one of dozens of such unused spaces and nothing had been inside it when we'd found it. It gave me the distinct sensation that I was inside an empty airplane hangar. Closer than those distant walls, though, my gaze bored into the upright metal plate before me. I called forth memories of those I lovedand, wrapped in those energies, gave the smooth chrome a solid punch with my gloved hand. While Celcus and Sampson stared, Flavia moved forward on her crutches to study the silvery fist-print. "" It's hot,"" she declared, pulling her finger back quickly. "" Probably from the stress on the metal itself."" She turned her head and narrowed her eyes at my undamaged knuckles. "" It's not just strength. You'd have to be more durable as well to not break your hand doing that."" It was rare that I felt this way. I was not immune to fear or anticipation, but, at that moment, I was actually *nervous.* What would they think of me? Asking them to accept that I romantically loved each of them had been harrowing enough, but now something even stranger was happening to me. Sampson clenched a fist and tensed his bicep to emphasize his thought. "" You do that by thinking of the qualities *we* possess?"" Honesty had not failed me in the caves. I decided that I needed to tell them everything now that I had told them anything. "" Well, for that punch, mostly thoughts of you."" Quickly seeing the confusion on their faces, I elaborated, ""When I need to be smart and analytical, I think of you"" I looked to Flavia. "" and when I need the self-awareness to balance more than one of these traits at once, I think of *you.*"" My tall man met my gaze with growing understanding. Celcus sank into thought. "" So you take on the strengths of those around you. Is it possible this is just a psychological effect? Maybe you can do these things because you believe you can."" Sampson gave a proud chuckle and raised a hand toward the damaged metal plate. "" You think *that's* just a product of belief?"" ""Human beings have been known to exceed their limits under extreme stress,"" Flavia mused. "" And of course we were trained to call upon those more costly layers of endurance at will. That may have helped her reach this place, but, no, this is beyond adrenaline factors. If she'd broken her hand with that punch, I'd have considered it likely, but no amount of stress can make bones and skin hardier."" My gaze kept jumping to each of them as they spoke. My fate was in their hands in a very unique and personal way. What if they chose to hate or fear me? What if
""Has anyone felt a drain during the events in question?"" Celcus asked, emerging from his deeper thoughts to look us in the eyes. "" Venita's described a handful of miracles in which she drew upon our strengths, but I don't recall feeling weakened during those moments."" Flavia froze halfway to speaking before reconsidering her words. "" I hadn't thought of that."" Looking down to spend a moment recalling, she then continued: ""I didn't feel weaker, either. ""Then that means she's not taking something from usshe's instinctively restructuring her own biology on the fly. Where would that energy come from?"" Taking a moment to study my face, she said in our formal dialectwhich we had not been able to use in quite some timea small modified phrase of wonder. The saying was normally *it is beyond belief, but my eyes prove it*; her statement was closer to, ""You are amazing."" My cheeks burned as I became acutely aware of their eyes upon me. That heat was matched only by the furnace in my heart. Desperate to shift attention away, I said, ""Energy? There's a sort of colored fire that burns in me."" Flavia took that in stride and moved closer on her crutches. "" I pointed to my heart. ""And what color?"" I wasn't sure why I found her line of questioning surprising, but I also realized that she couldn't see or feel it the way I could. "" She moved very close, as if in an attempt to see the fire through my very eyes. "" What *kind* of blue?"" Cheeks warming again due to her nearness, I gulped away a catch in my throat and offered, ""Lighter than cobalt, darker than cyan. Maybe azure to turquoise depending on intensity."" ""No hints of purple or green?"" I shook my head. She blinked, took that answer, and moved away while thinking. Celcus asked, ""Should we tell Septus? It doesn't feel right doing this without him."" ""I haven't known him as long as you,"" Sampson countered, ""But that likely makes me more objective. Anyone who listens to Conrad can't be fully trusted. This is too big. Too important."" My embarrassment at receiving personal attention faded in favor of my strategic senses. "" I think Conrad already knowsor at least suspects."" ""Yes,"" Flavia said from ten paces away while facing the empty distance of the white-lit hangar. "" He noticed you almost immediately, and his focus has only increased. I think he knew something was different about you from the moment your hand let us into his medical facility."" She turned around suddenly on her cast-clad leg. "" This has to be why your hand gets access from these places! Perhaps your biology reacts to what the system is looking for, or maybe there's some other element in you that only"" She froze. Celcus and Sampson were thinking it, but I was the one who asked, ""What?"" ""It's you,"" she breathed, staring at me. "" That thing Conrad said. The Sixth Millennial."" I didn't want to be different. I didn't want to be set apart from my family. "" Flavia hobbled forward. "" What would the Machine Empress design her systems to look for in her absence if not the one thing that nobody else could replicate? A spark of some sortor a flame."" The words struck me like a hammer, and I lost all sense of where I was as I removed my glove and stared down at my own hand. I could see and feel blue fire moving along the nerves of that limb, palm, and digits; I could clench that energy and gather it up to strike, defend, or transform. It was emotionthe energy of emotion released from the mental realm and set ablaze in the physical. I still wore both my arm braces, but I doubted I needed the therapeutic one any longer. The multi-tool had become an extension of me, while the brace for my formerly broken arm had reached the end of its usefulness. There was someone else who needed it more. Carefully unclicking it and removing it, I handed the arm brace to Flavia. "" For your broken arm. Let's get that cast off."" She seemed taken aback by the gift. "" You don't need it?"" ""I don't think so. Not anymore."" ""Then forget the arm,"" she said with excitement. "" I'll use this thing on my leg so I can finally walk without crutches again."" Celcus asked, ""It can be resized like that?"" Already lifting her uniform's pant leg and cutting with her combat knife, Flavia used a term we had learned from the Vanguard: ""Duh."" We helped her remove the cast completely, and nobody mentioned the rather odious release underneath. The automatic systems inside the brace adjusted quickly to encircle, clamp, and support in the right places, and she stood with a mixed sigh. "" Hurts a little, but not with bone-pain. I think I'm just lucky it wasn't a worse break."" ""I would have given it to you sooner if I'd have thought it could be used on your leg,"" I told her, genuinely apologetic. How could I have failed to think of that? Her injuries had been sustained saving my life! My leg needed time to heal, and we've still probably put it on a little early, but I'm willing to trade some pain for mobility that might keep me alive in the coming days."" Celcus and Sampson both agreed with that, and the three of us watched as Flavia limped around the empty hangar with an exuberant smile. Raising her good arm, she aimed her pistol at the far wall a few times, testing her stance. "" I am half a warrior again."" ""Just half?"" Celcus called over with humor. ""Half an Amber soldier is more than enough."" For the next half an hour, my newly mobile beloved ran me through my paces like I was a first-year cadet, and, in some sense, I wasonly this academy was my own changing mind and body. At first, I was just happy that the people I loved accepted whatever this was, but then I, too, began sharing their excitement. Clicking her wrist-watch and comparing that number to our measurements of the hangar, she declared in Empire units in case Vanguard soldiers overhead us: ""Twenty one point one kilometers per hour. Not bad, but clearly a normal speed for a fit female our age. You weren't the fastest of us, either."" She readied her watch again. "" This time, think of Porcia. I set off around the lap we had demarcated with my thoughts focused on the fleetest of our family. She was gone, but her essence remained in my memories, and I could feel Septus' love for her keeping her with us as well. Celcus shouted; Sampson clapped once in surprise. I ignored their reactions in favor of reliving the adrenaline of the run I'd made against Conradand the lap was over before I could even really register beyond that. Flavia lowered her wrist-watch. "" Panting, I asked, ""What was the speed?"" She answered slowly, as if haunted. "" You didn't run the whole lap."" ""Of course I did."" I gasped for air as I regarded the course. "" I took each corner."" I took cues from my beloved men. "" Celcus and Sampson saw me run the whole thing."" Flavia accepted their nods, but still shook her head. "" You did go fast. Nearly double. I'd guess thirty-five to thirty-seven kilometers per hour. Amazing speed matching some of the best Amber sprintersmale ones, in fact. But *you didn't run the whole lap.*"" Confused and increasingly unhappy, I could only tell her, ""I don't understand what you mean."" She didn't seem to be able to blink. Her blue eyes remained on me; glinting moisture brimmed. "" I don't understand either, but you've done it once before."" ""Come on now,"" Celcus said, stepping between and breaking our line of sight. "" I saw her take each corner. How could she have turned four times but not run the whole lap?"" She gripped her forehead and turned away. "" I think maybe I'm just tired. I'm going to go rest in my room."" As I recovered my breath and watched her leave, I realized that I had seen through her eyes before and thus had some idea what was bothering her. She saw the world in a flurry of connections; a spider web of logistical axes bound by colored sums of a thousand hues and countless possible moments refracted like light through a prism made of time. She had never told anyone this, though I'd somehow drawn that aspect of her to me and seen through eyes tinted with her perspective when I'd raced Conradbut I myself had been the one thing I had not been able to observe. What had she seen in me with her unique vision that had disturbed her so? ""Yeah, time for a break,"" Sampson said, heading off as well. Only Celcus and I were left, and he asked as casually as he could, ""You and Sampson have fun last night?"" Snapped out of one frame and into another, I immediately replied, ""Yes,"" before thinking better of it. "" Well, we went for a walk. Does that... bother you?"" He tried to smile, but his answer was serious. "" I just hope you realize you're going to have to make some decisions soon. Let us know what you feel so that we don't have the wrong expectations."" What *did* I feel? I'd just taken off my arm brace, and that gave me the words. "" To deny any of you would be like cutting off one of my limbs. I can't do it."" His awkward shrugging and the masked pain on his face nearly broke my heart. He asked, ""Do you still feel the same about me?"" I did my best to convey everything I felt for him through an upwardly aimed kiss; my tall man had needed that, and he left with a lighter and reassured step. He was not wrong. I knew that I would have to do something soon. I'd been hoping the coming battle would delay personal decisions, but it was our instructors had told us: life doesn't stop for war. On my own journey through the halls, I remained quiet and brooding, but I could certainly feel the wordless attention of passersby. Human and Yngtak alike had seen me involved with the impossible, and I suspected Conrad might have been preaching something about me. Worse, I had no makeup to dull my appearance like I usually did back home, and I felt rather naked. One of the unpaired Vanguard men tried to stop and talk to me with a grin, but I made a polite excuse and practically ran away. Why did people have to look at other people that way? I just wanted to be an unremarkable part of a group. That way
That way I would never be alone. If I never took a personal risk, I would never risk losing the group, and I would never have to feel like I had felt *back then*. My feet no longer took me forward. Frozen in the middle of the hallway, I became aware of a fear that had likely been holding me back my entire life. I had not known myself. I had not had personal courage. I had not had the support and love I'd neededuntil now. My grandfather was a wonderful man, but he had not been able to fill the roles of an entire family. Now I had siblings in Trajan, Larentia, Paulinus, and Septus; an older sister in Caecilia; beloveds in Celcus, Sampson, and Flavia; a friend in Noah; andstrangest of all for me to recognizetwo crucial figures that fulfilled two very different but highly linked roles. Conrad approached down the hall as I stood waiting; he waved off his three lieutenants and they continued on, leaving us alone. He stood in silence, intrigued, until finally asking, ""Patience is not one of my virtues. Out with it girl."" As strange as it felt to consider this man as a partial filler of the missing role of father in my life, I had to say it: ""You've been trying to push me to improve, haven't you?"" His flat lips curved into a smile. "" I'll admit that, yes."" So it was true. I felt numb as I probed further. "" His head had gone from military near-baldness to hosting a short layer of brown hair in the time that I had known him; he ran his hand once through this now as he considered me with an only mildly unkind snicker. "" Do you think it's coincidence that the Sixth Millennial walked up to my door in humanity's hour of greatest need? Me, the one man above all others who knew the Fifth inside and out?"" So that, too, was true. I took a moment to breathe and guess at all the things I did not know because I had been raised not to ask questions. Darkness and light both had been glimmering outside the narrow purview of my personal concerns. How *dark?* "" Tell me all this isn't just to challenge me."" ""Not all of it, no,"" he said wryly at first; his smirk abruptly fell into dead seriousness. "" But I did send the signal to resurrect my wife because of you."" Cristina's desperate *why now?* echoed in my ears, and I took a step back. "" You""
""I suspected you from the very beginning,"" he continued. "" But I knew for certain when you helped me lift that door and free the Yngtaks. Not only did the energy you released heat the entire hallway full of water, I swam back there after and found your handprints on the bottom of the door. The outline of your fingers in *solid metal.*"" I couldn't deny it to him or to myself, not after what I'd done in secret only an hour before. The agenda behind this, though, had to be darker than I could imagine. "" You'd wake the monster behind the spheres just to spite me?"" He shook his head sadly. "" Look around you, Venita. These facilities were built to hold thousands, or even tens of thousands, not one woman. While I lost myself in dreams and nightmares, merciless boredom and hollow wonder eternal, Gisela built an entire empire for a people that exiled her long ago. More than that, she developed the technology for resurrectionDeath defeated! Truly slain!but then set the system not to bring her back unless I desired it, unless I came out of my eon of ennui and wanted to see her again. This was always a woman, not of evil, but of strong emotion. Whatever she may have become over centuries of solitude, she will never be a monster, just a worthy opponent."" The facilities. They'd been built so absurdly large. I'd never understood it. I'd wandered the floors, explored their labyrinthine depths, and marveled at the redundancy. I didn't trust Conrad, but I trusted that assessment of these factories and hospitals. They'd been built all over the region for capacity far beyond the needs of one lonely exiled Empress. "" But we're set to attack her main fortress."" He nodded carefully. "" We've been sending teams ahead with vehicles, supplies, and pallets of gear. They still can't come back until we win the day, but they *can* stock the million soldiers already laying siege. I've told them to spread the word that The Machine Empress of Mankind is about to resurrect."" A shiver of confusion ran through me. "" Have I misread you? Have you done all this with good intent?"" ""You misunderstand."" His smile became subtly mocking. "" They'll take it as an urgent omen of doom, not as a relief that this will all be over when she wakes up and turns off the artificial intelligence defense forces. They're making a grave error at my behest, and they'll deeply regret what happens after."" I stepped away with abject horror. Conrad's smile deepened as the full weight of what was happening hit me. We'd made a deal with the Regret Demon, and the unknown cost had been our inevitably coming across and waking our immortal Imperator. My world had made a deal with the Regret Demon, and the unknown cost would be a war with what the others had called a force on level with a god. The Fifth Millennial, Her Glory the Machine Empress of Mankind, would easily destroy our Amber Worlds if so enraged. We'd been barely surviving trips across small portions of her realm. What could possibly stand against her in outright war? ""Yes,"" he said quietly as passersby approached. "" Things are going to be very hard for you shortly, but I think you'll rise to the task. If not, at least the battles will be entertaining as hell."" Acknowledging the passing soldiers, he nodded and headed away, completely unperturbed by our conversation. Don't panic. If my father figure was a manipulating bastard, then I needed his opposite. Bursting into her room after a mad dash, I shouted, ""Cristina!"" She looked up from her handheld tablet device. "" What's wrong?"" Hitting the button to slide the door closed behind me, I told her everythingthe testing, my discoveries, Conrad's tauntingand she listened and nodded along, unsurprised at any of it. "" Sit down, Venita."" I had never had the spotlight so directly focused on me by the course of events before, but my panic began to fade as I sat on the floor next to the bed and she began braiding my hair like she had that day at the river. ""Conrad told you what he told you for a reason,"" she told me with calm focus as she layered my hair back and forth behind my head. "" He's being both honest *and* manipulative. That's what makes his moves so effective. If he was lying, we could just find the truth, or even ignore himbut I have no doubt he believes what he's told you. Furthermore, he's calculated that revealing his intentions furthers his goals. Otherwise, he wouldn't have said anything."" Taking a deep breath and focusing my sight on the opposite metal wall, I asked, ""So he wanted me panicked? Wanted me distracted?"" ""I don't think so. It sounds like he's purposely given you fair warning. He wants you to grow stronger and face off against the Machine Empress. We can only speculate as to why, but, for the moment, our agendas align. We should work on getting you stronger."" She tugged down a few times before resuming. "" In the meantime, our mission will be to insert ourselves in the chain of command at the siege. * Somebody* from the Amber Worlds is in charge, despite the million men at large not publicly knowing."" ""Noah can sense Amber people,"" I told her. "" Or, rather, he *can't*, so he can pick them out of a crowd."" That's perfect. When the offensive begins, we'll join the tide, but we'll move to find the Amber soldiers and lie our way into the chain of command. After all, you *are* from Amber Three, and we'll know so much they'll have no choice but to believe us. The inability to get home means they won't be able to confirm with their headquarters any more than we will. Then we'll call off the attack."" All the terror that Conrad had instilled in me was gone. It was a solid plan. "" It might actually work."" ""It will."" She began working the longer ends of my braid. "" Right now, it sounds like you've got other things to worry about. Romantically, I only ever loved one person. Saw him in those Kansan wheat fields in his soldiering gear and decided he was it. But you've got yourself into a very tough situation. A team can't go into battle with confusion or pain between its members. And who knows who'll be part of the coming twenty percent? You have to live and love while you can."" She stopped just short of finishing my braid, and I guessed she was thinking of her lost husband. ""They calculated a twenty percent loss rate for the offensive?"" I asked, turning my head to the side to look up at her. ""No,"" she murmured. "" Twenty percent survival rate."" For the second time that day, true dread snaked its way around my heart. "" Twenty percent? * One in five?*"" There were five of us left in my squad! What if I was the only one who lived? What if all the
She snapped back to awareness and tied the end of my braid, finishing it. "" Don't let it get to you. It's just an estimate based on an incomplete model. We'll survive. We're not going to bear the brunt of those losses, remember? Our mission is orthogonal. And I would never send you into a murderous slugfest like that. The day is never won solely because of guns."" ""They sure help, though."" Pushing the dark snake away from my heart thanks to her calm confidence, I frowned. "" How do I choose?"" She let me up, and stood to walk me out. "" That's up to you. Nobody else can tell you how to live."" After activating the door and peering left and right, she told me, ""It's clear. Nobody saw you. I'm concerned he may have provoked you into running straight to the leader of the secret opposition faction, but, if you did have a tail, you lost them."" That brought a smile back to my face. "" I do run pretty fast these days."" She pushed me on my way. "" And don't worry. We'll survive what's coming."" I made it decently far away from her quarters before anyone saw me; meanwhile, I became preoccupied with the choice ahead. How could I possibly refuse what I felt for any of my three beloveds? Was it as simple as choosing the one whose potential loss most terrified me? That seemed like an odd thought in many ways. Something vital would be cut from me if I lost any of my threebut something vital would be cut from *them* if I remained vague and indecisive. While wandering the halls, I heard the words: ""It's better than *nothing!*"" I was walking along the second floor subsection C toward Sampson's quarters when a prickling along my skin stopped me in place. Without any other warning, two bloodied men in unrecognizable clothes fought hand-to-hand past the T-junction ahead. Shouting and punching one another, they were definitely engaged in a real and vicious fight. I only got a good look at oneand even then I saw only black hair and fierce eyesbut I absolutely heard him yell, ""The way *you* run things maybe!"" The two combatants moved beyond the end of the hall and out of sight. Dashing forward, I looked left and right down the junction, but they were nowhere to be seen. Had they fought around a corner or into one of the nearby rooms? I heard nothing, and the hallway was silent. To quote my Vanguard friend Sol: what *the hell* had that been? The hair on the back of my neck remained charged as I stood in that silent hall. I had the distinct impression of water flowing back into a hole and sealing it up; or of a plane flying over, full of lives that were crossing close by but which would never interact with mine. ""Venita,"" someone called, and I turned to see a doctor I recognized approaching. "" Did I hear right that you and your friends cut off Flavia's leg cast?"" Is everything alright?"" He came close and gave me a strange look. "" You know people don't normally do that kind of thing themselves. They usually get a doctor."" Some of his past comments and suspicions came back to me, and I had the sudden notion that he was somewhat cognizant of our differences from the rest of the Vanguard. "" Oh, um, we didn't want to bother you."" ""Is that so."" He took in a long draw of breath through his nose and let it out over the course of several seconds. "" Well, bother me in the future. It's why I'm here."" ""Of course. Thank you."" I watched him head on further down the hall before I resumed my course. Rather than head to Sampson's room, I chose my own, and I closed the door to find myself in rare solitude I had not experienced since that night at Conrad's medical facility. This factory had rooms for thousands of people, and thankfully so, for the Yngtaks alone took up two entire floors. I was tired of walking the crowded halls and running afoul of others. For the first time in a long time, I actually wanted to be alone. In that room, only I and my thoughts had motion. But this room had a mirror. As I sat and stared at myself in the lower corner of that reflective surface, I couldn't help but see the battered and scarred body I'd earned for myself by surviving this far. My temple had been drilled into; my cheek had been shot through; my arm had been broken twice; my face had been beaten and kicked to a pulp not too long ago; more and deeper pains the longer I looked. I could die, and so could the ones I loved. This was mortality. But this room had a mirror. Throughout Conrad's entire facility, deeper and deeper into the Earth, every single mirror had been removed. I was the only one that had noticed, and even then I had not really picked up on itand not until that moment. I couldn't put it into words, but, in that quiet realization, I saw the path to defeating my horrible mentor. It would take time and careful strategy, but I suddenly saw him for what he really was, and that gave me the edge. The alarm jarred me from sleep the following morning. The offensive was in motion, and the Coalition Alliance would be moving to assault Her Glory's stronghold in less than three hours. Focus on preparations took over, and I had no time for anything but a warm touch for each of the three people I loved before we donned our helmets, climbed on our new bikes, and rode out alongside tanks and supply trucks, beneath jets and helicopters, and ahead of legions of Yngtak foot soldiers that had been re-armed with the energy lances the spheres had previously taken from them. Our thousand men would not turn the tide alone, but we were armed to the teeth with freshly fabricated vehicles, guns, ammunition, and morale. Her Glory's homeworld held a nightmare landscape. Spiky growing arcs dotted dark hills under a diseased-orange and bile-yellow sky that gave us only chill winds as greeting. The very earth seemed absent; corrugated metal had grown in its place. A river of mercury ran beside us, and we avoided it with apprehension. This was a world overrun with industrial machination, and I found myself rethinking the possibility that the ancient Empress could be a person of good heart. Our way was paved with the destruction of cybernetically-enhanced animals of the kind that had exploded and killed Porcia, and mortars from nearby Vanguard positions created a constant rain of flaring light. We approached what could only be her citadel: a massive mountain encased in a globular shimmering shield whose glimmer I recognized from the skies of my youth. We presented ourselves as reinforcements at an enormous base in a highly defensible chrome valley; called Northern Point for its proximity to the enemy fortress, it would be the launching point for the nuclear-equipped jets, many of which had already taken off. More Yngtaks joined our own here, and I rode open-mouthed alongside my small family of Amber soldiers as I took in the might of the Coalition Alliance. Inverted amethyst pyramids floated overhead, while giants crafted from plant matter lumbered along the earth-bound paths. In the base with us, Noah gawked at a pale-skinned and white-haired woman in jade armor and told me, ""That's gotta be the dead woman that helped Alek Staley's people on the first Exodus!"" I was glad for my helmet, for it hid my awkward stare. She was walking around! She was expressionless and white as bone, sure, but she hardly seemed dead. If she was, it was not fair in the least. Why was it that Death had so many exceptions for everyone but me and the ones I loved? Putting that thought aside, I told Noah on a private channel, ""Alright. We're here. There's not much time. Let's find the Amber chain of command."" He replied an affirmative on the same channel. He knew that only myself, my three, and Cristina were aware of our real mission; Caecilia, Trajan, Paulinus, Larentia, and Septus would have to remain in the dark for the moment. I ached to tell Caecilia, for I trusted her capability in all things, but I had not had the opportunity to catch her alone and there was no easy way to speak privately to her now without raising suspicion. We stood next to our bikes and watched the frantic preparations until an unassuming young man in non-descript clothes passedand Noah gave a subtle nod in his direction. Cristina followed Noah and me closely while Celcus, Sampson, and Flavia maintained an inconspicuous rear guard. We tracked the young man to a tent in a rear corner of the base that was nearly out of sight behind stacks of equipment crates. Within, we could see the movement of a dozen men, and Noah indicated that all of them were from the Amber Worlds. I wasn't sure what the plan was, and I turned to consult only to find Cristina pushing right into the tent. We stepped in after her to back her up; fourteen soldiers stared at us. They had each been doing something with gear and weapons, but had stopped upon our intrusion. Hot winds surged behind us as the first nuclear strikes detonated in the unseen distance outside the tent; a great rumble shook the flat corrugated metal under our boots. The attack had begun, but it was not too late to call off the offensive. Without missing a beat, Cristina took control with the manner of a seasoned officer, but she said no such thing. Holding out her tablet device, she ordered, ""Give me the complete Vanguard roster. The full million. I want their finders after this is over."" ---
[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)"
s_2184_81,"this is similar to how i feel. im technically trying to ""recover"" and im no longer heavily restricting but ill just so happen to ""forget"" about breakfast and lunch and then have a decent sized dinner and small snack and be oh-so-surprised by the scale still going down when i see my ED team at my college for weigh ins. I dont even feel too disordered anymore because i genuinely am not as hungry anymore, but i am also just not trying to eat more than what is considered ""losing"" for me. oh well... :----)"
s_1514_163,"The Grey Riders (Part Eight) [1](<URL>) [2](<URL>) [3](<URL>) [4](<URL>) [Sick Day](<URL>) [5.1](<URL>) [5.2](<URL>) [5.3](<URL>) [5.4](<URL>) [5.F](<URL>) [6](<URL>) [7](<URL>)
Night and day had switched places; we were no longer riding alone in the dark. With over thirty people traveling together, and most soldiers, I felt safe for the first time in months. Of course, my sense of security also came from more than that. Institutions and structures I sorely needed had returned. The first I was aware of, and thankful fora hierarchy of command and responsibility that operated around us like a protective cloud. Others scouted. Others took watch. We participated, but it was not all on us to survive at the bitter edge every single second of every single day. The other structure crept upon me without announcing itself. That first day with the Vanguard of the New Exodus involved numerous rapid machinations, story crafting, and strategizing. We quickly realized that they were from the Empire, and thus naturally positioned to be our allies, but something greater was going on and telling them the truth about us seemed risky until we knew more. They were good men and women, but we had been sent out on a grey-class mission that had surely left ripples of chaos and unrest on Amber One in the wake of false promises of alliance and aid, and exposing ourselves would also expose the survival of our homeworlds. During the last afternoon stop for rest, we finally sighted a river slicing through the endless golden plains of this world's North American grasslands. Our new companions had kits to test the water, and found it to be clean and drinkable. We shook our heads; why hadn't *we* thought of that? Then again, the Vanguard had been sent out with the full planning of the Empire to scout this region, and we had simply been sent on a covert smash and grab. They left us then to set up camp a certain distance away, and I did not understand why until the last remaining Vanguard member, a boy of barely eighteen named Sol, awkwardly turned away with red cheeks and a terrified expression on his way into the high grasses. I'd seen teen movies from his culture, and, edited for propaganda as they might have been, I think I still understood. Under the warm late afternoon sun, my people were all unclothing themselves to make use of the water. Was this a mistake? Would they know that we were not like them? How could one possibly guess at all the differences between two separate cultures? We would give ourselves away if we did not come up with plausible reasons why our norms were different. But that would come later. I stood on the loam shore and removed my boots; the friendly earth was inviting and soft, wholly unlike the grim grey dirt and creeping moss of the jade wasteland that I'd thought I would never escape. Trembling against creaking muscles and unhappy pains, I slowly peeled away one bandage at a time from my head. Each large bruise stung a tiny bit in the cool air, but I had not been overly lacerated, so I knew I would eventually heal with few additional scars. My back would not be so lucky; unrolling the matted bandages around my midriff, I began shivering at the pain. Flavia came over on her makeshift crutches. She had me move just a few steps into the river and sit. With the water up to my waist, I felt half-refreshed, and she did the best she could above. "" You can't get this wound up here wet,"" she told me while pressing a clean bandage between my shoulder blades. "" I don't like these hints of exposed bone here. Easy places for an infection to take hold. Protect this area above all else until the skin heals over."" Taking the order quite seriously, I nodded. ""They have two doctors with them,"" she added. "" We'll get one to look at both of us later tonight."" Her broken leg and broken arm made it very difficult for her to wash herself, so I helped her the best I could, and the men washed the clothes in the river to erase the pains of our collective journey. Blood, moss, sweat, grey dirt, and stressful memories floated away on the cold bubbling water. The worst were Cristina's clothes, and she watched the filth break away with a haunted and distant gaze as she absently rubbed her purple wrists. She came and sat in our small pool of slower-moving water and strung out her knotted and disgusting hair. "" My face has been broadcast before. They might recognize me if I clean up."" My sister in arms blinked for a moment. This was the first time our rescued prisoner had spoken in front of her, but Flavia was the cleverest of us, and she rose to the challenge with excitement. "" Then we'll dye your hair before they see you."" Cristina seemed to be considering it. "" Will that work?"" ""People see what they expect to see,"" Flavia replied, citing all the times we had used makeup to dull ourselves and blend in with the crowd. "" Give them a different identity. Be unremarkable. Make it look like you're not hiding, and they'll suppress their own suspicions without even realizing it."" I nodded in support. "" It'll work."" Cristina gave in wordlessly, and Flavia waved over Caecilia and Larentia to explain the situation. ""You're doing this to protect the Amber Worlds alongside us?"" Caecilia asked, keen on hearing our guest speak. ""A little bit, sure,"" Cristina told her after a deep exhalation. "" But I've done far more than just eject your worlds from the Empire at the height of a crisis. To *these* people, as someone else once put it, I have been both an angel and a demon."" Caecilia looked to Larentia, who asked for all of us, ""What are those? Demon, like the Regret Demon, so something bad, but what's an angel? Something good?"" Cristina looked each of us in the face and then sighed. "" Now's not the time for that discussion. You could say they're mythological creatures; one very bad, one very good."" Beside her in the water, I asked sincerely, ""How can you be both?"" Pained, she shook her head. Pulling on her teammate's arm, Caecilia took Larentia off to find anything that might dye hair. The clothes were put up to dry, and we lounged around in the warm sun and cool water for a time watching the men play an improvised and splashy game of Empire football in the shallows; Noah seemed incredibly awkward about all the nudity, but he held his own, which was admirable considering the vast differences in strength, speed, and coordination between him and the soldiers of Ambers One and Three. It was teamwork, I saw; Celcus and Sampson led their men against Conrad's, but both sides worked together so efficiently that Noah's lagging made little difference. Had the same been true of me when I had shown weakness? In the corner of my vision, I could see Flavia's splintsthe cost of my mistakesand I knew that it had. ""Alright,"" Caecilia said as she and Larentia approached along the shore. They held out what they had found. "" Metallic red berries that tested as inedible but not dangerous. Or natural blueberries that could do a sort of dark purple. Lastly, engine grease. If we're very careful, we can turn your brown hair black without smudging and giving the whole thing away."" Cristina looked at me, and I only realized what she was doing when she spoke: ""Well, the purple's right out, but I think I'll try the red."" She'd chosen my hair color. Why did that feel so weird and nice? I wasn't used to people looking at me, let alone choosing me as a basis for a sort of new team color. As a group, we dunked her, cleaned her horrific hair, and then got to work. We had various small bits of material and chemicals we could repurpose to modify the color of the dye, and, with a few rounds of experimenting and a little ingenuity, we managed to get the job done. ""Good choice,"" Flavia commented at the end, laughing as she compared the two of us. "" You and Venita could be family!"" For some reason, that embarrassed me. I turned away. ""It's waterproof like we expected,"" Larentia said, testing some held-out strands again. "" The stain has really taken hold. I don't think it'll come off if you sweat."" Cristina held some of her own hair out in front of her face and studied it. "" I think I've chosen a name, too. My great-grandmother was named Casey, and that starts with a C, so I think I like it as a temporary identity."" Strange feelings made me even more uncomfortable as I thought about that. The others all nodded in understanding for the respect that showed her family line, but I had nothing like that in my life. My grandfather was a great person, yes, but my mother, father, and ancestors were a blank otherwise. That feeling of void grew as we all sat in the pool and began hashing out the cover stories we would tell the Vanguardbut then that feeling of void shrank as Cristina began braiding my hair with practiced ease while leading the discussion of identities. She didn't ask, and I didn't stop her; she argued that we all had to be a little different than we were so that we would actively remain in character and not accidentally slip up. With the clothes dried and evening coming on, we donned our fresh non-uniforms and prepared to rejoin the Vanguard camp. On the way through the grass, Flavia studied my face and smiled. "" You seem happy."" I asked, aware now that she had mentioned it of a bounce in my stepand in my hair. I pulled the red braid forward to look at its tasseled end. "" It's really nice, don't you think?"" ""It's not military code,"" she responded, but in a daring and excited tone. I think she was on the same page as I was when it came to the thought of enjoying our time of freedom from the harsh rules of our home. As we walked, I wondered how far that daring extended. I myself had never even thought to stray outside that strict structure until I had found my inner azure fire in that horrible jade wasteland. A scout on his way in roared past us as we hit the edge of camp, and Atticus took the news before coming to greet us with grim confirmation. "" Well, what you observed appears to be true. We can't go back. All our routes are circling towards the center of this region. That's how our two teams even met up before we ran into you all."" I shared a glance with Flaviawe had talked about this in the river, and we had been sincerely hoping that it had just been something the Regret Demon had done while chasing us, even though that sounded unlikely the more we worked it out. No, the great enemy that had attacked our world was drawing us all in to our doom step by step like an anaconda squeezing the life out of its prey. It was now clear that we could not get home without winning this war that had been thrust upon us. ""One group we ran across warned us of something like this,"" Atticus continued. "" I shoulda listened."" I hoped he didn't notice the sudden change in our collective body language. Was that other group from Amber Three? They'd been planning an attack on the great enemy's facility since the day we'd left. Did that mean we could run into our brethren out here? Even join back up with them? ""We were gonna set you up to walk your route,"" he said after thinking for a moment. "" But now I think we all gotta ride together even if the extra weight costs us a ton of gas; get into this fight. Whaddya say?"" Caecilia didn't need to consult with us, for our answer was unanimous. That first night with them wasn't anything special, for we were all still strangers. Both their doctors came around to check on Flavia and me. The first applied some sort of hardening gel to my back that would disinfect and seal my wounds, while the other worked on genuine casts for Flavia's arm and leg. "" The ribs,"" he said, ""Are just going to hurt terribly for a few weeks. Not much I can do there besides give you some painkillers. You're just lucky they're fractured and not broken."" When we looked at each other in surprise, he asked, ""Don't any of you have medical training? Did you think she was walking around with fully broken ribs?"" ""Our doctor died early on,"" I lied. He grimaced. "" It's going to be tough for you guys then. Glad you found us."" ""Us too,"" Flavia told him before downing the first painkiller. The second and third days passed with a few incidents, but nothing we couldn't handle. The Vanguard squads watched us in amazement as we effortlessly downed a massive lizard-beast one day and burned a path through maggot-vine fields the next. We were heavily armed, well-coordinated, and fearless; there was no hiding these innate qualities of ourselves. At some point, Atticus commented, ""You guys must be one of the top-end squads, right? Like the best of the best?"" To this, Caecilia just laughed with earned haughtiness. The truth of her reaction was more convincing to our companion squads than any lie, and that confirmation prompted a growing number of the Vanguard members to step up and begin performing as we did. They went from fearing going around every corner in the multiverse to hesitant trust that, together, we could actually handle what might come in the war to which were so blindly riding. By our fourth night making campthis time in a series of caves that offered total concealment and protectionwe had all developed a sort of budding camaraderie, enough that the groups began to mix and talk began to loosen. Separate small caverns were set up with fires and tents, and people began to move from area to area almost like the parties I had seen in Empire movies. Indeed, we realized that someone had produced hidden bottles of liquor, and we of the Amber Worlds became timid wallflowers for the first time in our lives. ""Anyone got a soda?"" I asked hopefully, approaching the circle of people around the campfire in the big main cavern. A brunette girl my age that I didn't know well laughed. "" Just the hard stuff, honey."" What was I supposed to do? I couldn't tell them I wasn't allowed to have alcohol, and they would certainly get suspicious if *all of us* turned it down. She procured a red plastic cup from a stack someone had brought on their journey 'as a joke'what was the joke? I didn't get the significance of red cupsand then I accepted and held before me a small pool of noxious chemicals. All eyes were on me. Giving them a sheepish smile, I said, ""Thanks,"" and downed the contents of the cup in one big swallow. No, *no.* Coughing and kneeling, I tried not to vomit as fire burned up my throat and nose. The dozen-odd men and women around the fire laughed, but not too cruelly. ""Yep, that'll getcha,"" the girl said with a grin. "" That's 190 proof, homemade."" As I battled my coughing fit, she filled a canteen. "" I shoved it away, but she said, ""It's just water. Drink water. Trust me, one shot of that stuff is all you need for a good while."" I took the canteen and staggered to a corner of the tents behind the circle while the watching faces finally turned back to their conversations. Here, Cristina had Sol cornered. The young man's light brown skin was clearly the brighter for alcohol, and he was slurring a bit. ""What do you know of the cold?"" she asked, choosing her words very carefully to imply that we knew about what they had mentioned as the driving force behind their journey. "" Have you guys found out anything?"" Red cup in hand, Sol grinned and shook his head. "" It's just coming up on us so fast. We were slow on the outset, and nearly froze to death."" He sighed with momentary unhappiness. "" I just can't believe the Empire's gone."" ""You're sure it's gone?"" she asked, and I saw tension in her neck that belied her calm faux neutrality. "" Have you actually *seen* the Empire's lands frozen or dead?"" Sol frowned. "" Nah, but what could survive that? The First Tribe is dead, man."" At the tail end of his last word, he remembered the name she had given. "" Cristina patted him on the shoulder and then stalked away. Following her briefly, I asked, ""Is everything alright?"" She stopped and faced me by cavernous firelight. "" I have to believe my son's still alive, but that doesn't sound good."" She gave a bitter glare at nothing. "" I'll just have to expand my search. They wouldn't have sat in place and died. They have to be *somewhere.*"" Beginning to feel a little fuzzy, I asked too loudly, ""But how will you find him?"" Back at the circle, someone turned around and raised his hand. "" I'm a finder. Someone need to find something?"" That snapped Cristina out of her darkness and toward the firelight. "" Our squad didn't have a finder,"" she told him, using a risky lie. "" What kind of things can you find? What does that mean?"" The doctor who'd made Flavia's casts asked from the other side of the fire, ""You guys don't have a doctor *or* a finder?""but nobody really heard him over the other conversations. The closer man stood as a silhouette against the fire and, cup in hand, explained, ""I can find anyone I've met or anything I've touched."" That's intriguing."" Cristina moved to speak with him, and I lost track of their conversation as my senses began blurring at the edges. I found myself walking down one of the tunnels to another chamber without really making a decision to do it. The next cavern had another fire, this one with only five or six people around it, but Conrad was there giving some sort of grand speech about the wonders of himself. Most were laughing and taking the braggadocious tales as jest, but two were listening with intent. The third cavern held a dozen people in it like the first, and I scooted up to the fire next to Flavia with excitement. "" Have you tried that stuff they're drinking?"" Red-faced and subtly slow in her smiling response, I knew she had. She leaned close and whispered, ""It's horrible."" ""It really is!"" I had so much I wanted to say to her, and it all felt so much closer to the surface than ever beforebut a pain rose as well. I had to find Celcus first. He deserved to know. I took a swig from my canteen, stood, and said, ""I'll be right back."" ""Noooo,"" she called after me playfully. "" Come back!"" The fourth cavern held a small cloud of dancing drunk people. Celcus and Septus were there flailing like madmen, but having all the fun in the world. Why had we never been allowed alcohol? Why had we never danced before? I couldn't take this from my tall man. The fifth and final cavern was down a long and narrow tunnel with no apparent ceiling; the firelight did not extend this far or that high. Heading the other direction, I met Noah, and he did a double-take before stopping me. "" Venita, are you alright?"" I nodded and laughed. "" How are you, clone emotion-sensing guy?"" ""Not a clone,"" he responded automatically. "" But, um, just like with you, I can feel all of the Vanguard members. I'm sorry I didn't sense your distress before now."" ""Distress?"" I pushed him for some reason. "" I'm not distressed."" ""You're literally lightning right now,"" he said quietly after glancing forward and back toward the two visible fire-lit areas. "" There's a fire in you, a blue fire, and I don't think you know what to do with it yet."" That caught my attention enough to stun me through the blanket deepening over my inhibitions. "" You can see it? His close silhouette nodded. "" You found something, some inner strength I'm sure, but there's something I've been seeing for a long time that you might not realize. I wasn't going to say anything, since it's not my businessuntil I sensed your dangerous impulses just now."" ""What's dangerous about it?"" I demanded. "" I can feel the way I want."" ""Yes, you can,"" he whispered, getting more specific. "" But isn't this going to crack your team apart? They're not going to understand that you experience emotions differently than they do."" Reeling in place in the dark, I felt like crying, shouting, and pushing all at onceuntil the impact of his words brought out deeper questions. "" Wait, what do you mean?"" ""Well, I can only assume they're like most people since I can't sense them for reasons I still don't understand, but most people have a range of feelings within any given category. You can hate brussel sprouts and hate a murderer with different intensities, yeah?"" Those are equally bad."" He grinned in the dark. "" Bad example."" Thinking for a moment, he continued: ""You can hate a pebble in your shoe and hate a bully with different intensities, right?"" ""Yeah..."" I had some vague notion of what he was going to say, but I was having great difficulty thinking. ""Well what I sense from you, Venitait's just what I see, maybe because of your upbringing, your culture, or just the people around youwhen it comes to romantic love""
I pushed him *hard*, but he did not stop speaking. ""You've only got one setting,"" he said louder, forcing his point across. "" And it's that fire inside you."" My feet were taking me away from him before I even decided to run. ""Passions like that make people do stupid things,"" he shouted after me. "" You'll risk everything, damage the whole world if you have toI've seen it before!"" But I didn't listen. I ran to that final cavern and found him there; I found my Sampson sitting alone and watching the fire while others danced. Pulling him aside into the shadows, I asked breathlessly, ""You lied about having a girlfriend somewhere out there, didn't you? Because we used to be together?"" By dim orange light I saw the tension in his jaw, and I could tell my hands on his strong arms made him uncomfortable. After a moment of shared close breathing, he said, ""I lied. I've been trying to stay away from you, but I couldn't leave, either."" I wanted to kiss him, then, but Noah's warning echoed in my rampant thoughts. I'd screwed up enough. It was time for me to do something the right way again; it was time to be the best I could be, the way I had been before I'd been broken. Now I was remade in azure and heat, and I could do this. Dragging him by the hand, I led the way back to the fourth cavern, where I took Celcus by the hand as well. Septus laughed and pushed me away from the dancers, and I knew that he knew. Among my surviving family, he was my only remaining actual friend, and his heart had always been set on Porcia regardless. Flavia still sat in the third cavern, and she lit up at our approachand then grew wary as I pulled the four of us to a private corner where fire and shadow danced along the walls and half of each our faces. We sat, drunken, and faced one another for real. In that instant, they all knew, for there was nothing we could truly hide from one another. Celcus bore an expression of hurt, but also understanding. Sampson's face held begrudging apology. Flavia was purely and solely happy. ""I wanted to tell you, in case we die in the coming battle,"" I forced myself to say after a shiver. The fire inside *was* my strength, and I didn't have to be the way the military had raised me to be. "" I love all of you. Not just as brothers and sisters in arms. I love you, Celcus, my antikin, for we could never have been apart. I love you, Sampson, for your strength and humility, and for what we had that still hasn't faded. And FlaviaI don't even have the words for what you are to me. I don't understand it. It just is the way it is."" She gulped, but out of excitement, not fear. "" Sampson looked each of us in the eyes with trepidation. "" Celcus lowered his head for a moment, and his mop of brown hair covered his face. He gave a hard sigh, but, upon meeting our gazes again, he said, ""I guessed it. We're all so different, and I felt I couldn't be all the things either of you offeredbut you couldn't be me, either."" He hit his knee with a fist, but not too hard. "" I'm alright. I'm not resentful, and I'm not going to harbor negativity. This doesn't diminish what you and I have, does it?"" He watched me for an answer. My response was full and true: ""It won't."" He seemed relieved. "" I'm glad you did it this way. We're stronger together, and Sampson and I had begun fighting with each other in small ways; I think because of this."" I thought back to subtle glares and comments, even as recently as on the *Matilda* before it crashed. "" That's what that was about?"" Sampson grimaced. "" Reaching out a hand, he waited. Celcus clasped his forearm, and two of my beloveds made peace. Together, they faced Flavia. "" They'd discharge us with dishonor if they knew."" It wasn't an unheard-of concept, but I was certain now that it had been edited out of every movie and show we had ever seen. Making babies was one of the primary responsibilities of military caste members above a certain age. Family units and structure had all been designed around it. Flavia raised both eyebrows in challenge. "" Then they won't find out."" She put her hand in the middle, and we each placed ours on top, with mine last. "" I have no idea what we're doing, but we were going to fracture and break apart if we didn't face this. Now we'll be stronger than ever."" Celcus nodded. Sampson nodded. I, too, nodded. "" I don't want to hurt any of you."" It was Celcus who took the lead in shaking off that concern. "" We're pretty tough, if you haven't noticed. We'll figure this out, and we'll be fine. No matter what happens or what you choose, I won't resent any of you. You're all my best friends. Beyond family."" ""And who knows?"" Sampson added. "" Maybe we'll all die in the coming battle anyway, and none of this will matter."" Flavia shivered. "" That's not funny."" I was too ecstatic and drunk to do anything but smile. "" It is a little bit."" We broke our circle of trust then to rejoin the festivities; while still in darkness, Flavia pulled me back with her unbroken arm and, without warning, kissed me hard. I began to say something in surprise, but she slapped me. ""What was that for?!"" ""Waiting so long,"" she said, moving off toward the fire with a bemused smirk. I found another drink soon after, and, for a time, everything was right with the world. I had everything that mattered, I was my true self, and I'd been honestand they'd accepted me. There were still a thousand questions ahead, but every face in those caves and around those fires seemed full of life and wonder and hope. I could see now that the Vanguard members had paired off pretty fiercely, and that their squads were almost exactly half men and half women. Did the leaders of the Empire know this same lesson? Love was everything. Love was strength. I could feel it burning in my every nerve. The earthquake was minor, but absolutely reflected in me. The others looked around warily for a moment, but resumed their conversations when no further tremors followed. I was too high on a cloud to notice; I drifted to my feet and wandered back to the first cavern. For some reason, I wanted to share my happiness with Cristina. She'd braided my hair. Why was that such a big deal to me? She'd taught me something in the jade wasteland; she'd helped me find the fire in me that had always been burning to get out. I had just needed to align myself to my own truth. She caught me in the darkness between the first and second caverns. "" Oh my God,"" she breathed, clutching my arms. "" The finderhe says he still senses a comrade who used an amethyst suicide device. He thinks it doesn't kill you; it just teleports you somewhere distant. * My husband's alive.*"" In my drunken happiness, my smile was wide and genuine. "" That's wonderful!"" ""We have to get moving,"" she said frantically, speaking more to herself than me. "" We have to plan, we have to calculate, we have to *do something!*"" She could hear Conrad's speech from down the tunnel, and there were now ten people sitting and listening to his words. By distant orange, I saw fire and apprehension in her eyes. We soldiers were heading into an unknown battle, but I knew then that Cristina Thompson was going to war. ""Also,"" I asked her blithely. "" What's God?"" That fiery gaze angled to meet my eyes. There was something dark there behind the flames reflected from Conrad's speech. She had a fire inside her, too, but it was not blue like mine. She was no longer smiling as she said: ""You know what? I think it's time we had that conversation."" ---
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s_856_5,"No problem, that's what I'm here for! I'll take these one by one...
1. I think I developed depression as a combination of biological predisposition and environmental factors. Both my father and grandfather have gone through it to varying degrees. Also, low self esteem and a childhood with some problems brought it out more, although at the same time I cannot definitively say if the environmental factors were normal and just interpreted as worse due to my biological disposition. I wouldn't necessarily say so. I am proud of where I am in my life and the steps I have taken. There are days when I feel unhappy about it all and feel like I'm a disappointment/failure, but I can rationalize through that much better lately. Yes, I've had close relations all my life. I'm the type of person that people always say they'd ""never guess I was the one who'd have this."" Close friends all my life and good relationships with girls as well. Family has recently become much more complicated, but I am close to my sister and also my mother to varying degrees. There are some days where classes feel pointless and that they're doing nothing for my life, but in general this isn't the case. In high school, this sentiment was much greater. But since university began and I actually got to specialize my learning to what I enjoy I take much greater meaning from class. I learn classes I enjoy and tend to memorize in those I don't. I make sure I balance my social and academic life. It was a priority going into college as I feel it helps me maintain my mental health much better. I study less than others and have fun, but still study enough to get good marks. There's always instances of ""why the hell am I not studying right now?"", but I feel all college students have been there. It can help improve your mental health I believe, but I don't think this is a strategy that can just help you ""get over"" depression. I've come to accept that I'm never going to ""get over"" it, rather I'm going to live with it my whole life. However, focusing your efforts towards something definitely helps manage it better. I didn't really have anything like that in high school besides sports. Now in college, with class, relationship, and sports, I feel I live a balanced life and a busy one, so my focus stays off depression. It comes back often, but it doesn't linger as strong as it used to. I wouldn't say I'm overcoming my inner-self. Instead, I'd say I'm learning to live with who I am and accepting it. However, at the same time, I work to improve myself always. Rationalization is key to this and has helped me control it immensely. I would never tell someone they must see a doctor if they're not comfortable with the idea. If you go to therapy and don't want to be there, you won't gain anything from it- ever. Instead, I'd encourage them to find someone or some means of communicating how they are feeling to others, and go from there. I resisted medication and therapy for a long time, so I can empathize with not wanting to turn to that first. Hopefully I answered these adequately. If there's anything I missed/you want me to expand on though, just let me know! I appreciate the kind words and support."
s_258_426,"I have depression- also recovering from 10 years of anorexia. My energy is low,as is my enthusiasm but Ive found the only way I can survive this job without crying every day is by being myself. Even if my vocal range is monotone; even if Im not entertaining the teens with every other thing I say; even if it means occasional boring lessons . I dont have that cheerleading teacher spirit . I cannot pretend that I do for the sake of admins judgement as it will only further debilitate my mental health. Sure some teachers do look at me weirdly; sure I cannot give a damn about leaving any highly effective impression on admins, but this is what keeps from total depersonalization . Depression kills happiness, joy, energy - its truly a vacuum of negativity so theres no need to add more pressure on yourself to live up to some ideal image of a what teacher is ; just be you. Also depression stripped any sense of identity I have left so I agree that it could just be your depression interfering with your job . Take care and hang in there- I wish you all the best ."
s_1404_1292,"How can I stop being always extremely tired? I already tried these things: 1. sleep: I sleep more than 10 hours every night so for sure I sleep enough 2. a walk: when I feel tired during homework I tried taking a short walk, but that only makes me feel more tired, so this does not help me. endurance training: didnt work because even if I only run 5 minutes once, after that i'm even more tired for the rest of the day. Less work: is not an option because all the homework I do for university is mandatory. doctor: researched my blood and everything was fine. diet: my diet is bad, however my blood was recently researched and it was all fine? coffee: no, it makes me feel more tired, I guess caffeine does not help me. Yes I have depression and im aware it can cause me to be tired but the problem here is that being always tired is a very big problem for me and my depression cannot be fixed yet.. I had years of therapy and it did not even reduce my depression. Im always extremely tired all day, despite enough sleep, I tried all the things above, I dont know what to do anymore, what can I do to have more energy?"
s_1404_1008,I have no free time at all. university is stressing me out they basically give me 25 hours of homework everyday and I cant keep up with the pace Ofcourse im not 100% productive all day7. Ofcourse I watch youtuhbe sometimes between my homework and I get distracted. But that does not feel like free time becaues it isn't. I have to do my homework and I get distracted because im mentally exhausted. I haven't really had free time in years now and im feeling more and more tired and stressed out
s_993_236,I am experiencing this with Latuda and Wellbutrin. Just came home and had huge fight with mom over nothing. Dunno which meds fault is it. Or is this my normal temperament. And meds are just helping out. Is this me without suicidal thoughts.
s_552_263,"I'll never forget the first time she punched me in the face. I just stood there in shock. Physically, she's one of the strongest women I've ever met. Especially when she's in a rage. When I moved all of our stuff out of our house there wasn't a door frame or drawer or cabinet unbroken from her rage over the most selfish of insignificant injustices(she felt) were being perpetrated on her. It's taken me 8 months to try to understand the disorder(s) and her childhood trauma and WHY she is the way she CHOOSES TO BE. Make no mistake...they have the ability to restrain themselves. They don't respect anyone enough to do it because they feel everyone is either doing them wrong, will do them wrong, or the scariest thing of all...will make them vulnerable by loving them like I did. Their fear of abandonment runs unusually deep, yet it's EXACTLY WHAT THEY DO TO THE PEOPLE THAT LOVE THEM. I can't paint a picture of how much I cherished her. I tried my best to make sure she never had a necessity ever run dry. One way or another, no matter the risk or sacrifice, I NEVER let her go without. My mother was agitated with the way I ""babied"" her. To me it was just how I felt about her. I cherished her. Just like any narcissistic/codependent relationship though, the bar would be raised so she could justify the devaluing as her BPD and Bipolar would have her splitting and idealizing the ""doormat parachute"". Her learning disabled, mentally challenged ex husband who's barely literate and hasn't matured intellectually beyond high school. He'll allow her to run back, use him for resources, cheat on him and break his heart, all while the kids watch. It's a repeat record left on play that she somehow thinks will play a different song with each restart of the needle. They aren't just mentally ill. They're spiritually ill. I actually died on my second suicide attempt after I was hospitalized for stress induced cardiomyopathy(second one...the first was after her previous discard which she swore on the lives of her children she'd never do again) and had an extremely profound NDE. I was given the chance to stay in the most indescribable and infinite loving light you could ever imagine, OR...From what I was shown and have literally seen playing out like clips of a movie film...come back to try and redirect her from destroying everyone that loves her, and in tbe end, herself. I made a MASSIVE mistake. After her psychotic break in January where I feel was really a spiritual battle she lost to something very dark, who came out is void of any of the good she had in her. 7 years...engaged to be married last Spring...and she just ghosted me with no explanation. No closure. I'm a living corpse of constant suicidal ideation and excruciating heartbreak. I've tried every type of therapy, multiple mood stabilizers and other prescriptions...even street drugs to attempt to numb me and it's all in vain. What she did to me...The man that ""Loves her like a fairytale"" as she used to say...is the cruelest thing I've ever seen a person do to someone that loves them. For her to walk away from it without a scratch is a massive slap in the face, and I have no fear of death. The closest connection to the creator and the teacher Jesus Christ I was made unwaveringly aware and faithful in that perhaps the only thing that might snap her out of it is the public knowledge that she killed me. The guy every girl saw with her and slapped their SO telling them to be more like...I've literally not stopped crying for 8 months. I'm NOT going g back to inpatient to have my grief treated as the emotions of a child and be talked to like a developmentally disabled child. Honestly...I'm already dead anyways. I keep this typed up to show people how a narcissist or any other Cluster B can destroy you if you fall in love with one: After almost 7 years of believing I was just too defective to love the soul mate"" or ""Twin Flame"" God gave me and that's why she discarded me every 2 years, I found out what it""(Narcissistic Abuse) wastoo late. Since my 3rd discard in the relationship(you can call it splitting if you prefer, it doesn't change the pain it causes though) by the person I'd do anything for and love more than life itself in February after she had a psychotic break and obviously lost part of her soul, I am now in psychotherapy 2 to 3 days a week. I'm recovering from my SECOND stress induced cardiomyopathy in the relationship with the person I love most in this world from the heartbreak. It's a type of heart attack brought in by sudden severe emotional trauma. My heart is probably malformed for life. I'm still at risk for cardiac arrest. I have NAS(NarcissisticAbuseSyndrome), severe depression with CONSTANT suicidal ideation...I've attempted suicide 4 times, actually being successful on the second but lived ultimately, and that's where I had a near/post death experience that will shape the rest of my life, for however long that may be. I'm now diagnosed with CPTSD and generalized anxiety disorder as well. I lost 44 lbs in 4 months. People with BPD are VERY COMMONLY misdiagnosed and treated(with catastrophic consequences) as ""Bipolar"". HIGHLY narcissistic traits and the pattern of narcissistic abuse in their Unstable relationships is also not uncommon. You might be dealing with ANY...OR MORE THAN ONE...Cluster B Personality Disorders in these people who inflict this kind of abuse on the people who love them most. Her response to learning of my second suicide attempt was that she's the happiest she's been in YEARS. Whether it's the depression and heartbreak that kills me or the actual damage to my PHYSICAL HEART makes little difference to me. The fact remains that the person I have loved and adored more than anyone in my lifetime has ZERO empathy, compassion, or remorse after nearly 7 years together. I was thrown away in the blink of an eye like an old gum wrapper on the floorboard of a used car, with no explanation at all...let alone closure. I'm a pretty tough guy. Played hockey for 9 years. I've taken a 7.62X39 through the shin and out my calf and kept moving. I've broken a femur, had my lower row of teeth knocked out in a hockey game and kept playing the game b4 going to the hospital...had my sciatic nerve nearly severed...and never shed a tear. I have cried from the moment I opened up my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep for 7 months. Nothing is helping. I honestly cant live like this.. Whether it's ""BPD SPLITTING"" or ""NARCISSISTIC DISCARDING"" doesn't change the impact it has on a person who did nothing more than commit the awful crime of loving them. I'm LITERALLY just another a living corpse under her feet. All for the crime of Loving her like a fairytale. Her words, not mine."
s_419_1079,ELI5:Why do I yawn all the time?? I sleep 8 or 9 hours a night band I am 22 years old but why do I yawn all day everyday??? Is there something else?? I wont feel tired at all but I still yawn.
s_1404_640,"Motivation/Energy completely gone. Gonna fail at university this year. Due to my depression I have been unable to enjoy anything the last 4 years. I CRAVE to do something I enjoy. I think that's why I can't focus on study. I'm constantly tempted to go on youtube, play games and chat with friends, even though I don't enjoy those activities, I do them because I crave something to enjoy. Because I don't enjoy anything, I constantly crave to try to enjoy something. Because of that, I never have motivation to focus on anything else (such as studying) How can I get motivated from the inside, to study again instead of wasting my time on games and reddit and youtube?"
s_1271_489,"I had a lot of guilt over a particular incident for a long time. In the end I wrote out all my feelings about and at the wrote 'I choose to love and forgive myself for that.' It helped me heal the wound, perhaps it might help you. I think perfectionism is a big part of OCD, we want so bad to be morally perfect human beings that we torture ourselves over small infractions and obsess about the possibility of becoming some extreme example of moral depravity. Remind yourself it's okay to be imperfect, everybody is, it's a fundamental part of being human."
s_993_600,I have a few feelings like that. Most of it was when I am going in depressive phase. I get really irritable. But I always feel really bad after yelling. I don't think you are terrible person as you are self aware. Just get help. Either meds or thearpy will help you. You are not terrible. You are just like everyone else.
s_2401_29,"Yeah and if i dream about fighting with my family, i wake up agitated and misbehave with them unintentionally. Then i feel guilty about it. But they suck so whatever"
s_274_393,Any bullet hell games or 2D platformers? I recently lost all interest in anything I did. Today I decided to try cuphead and enjoyed something after years. Any similar games you guys would suggest?
s_1404_1269,Its not nice that I need so much sleep. I sleep 21 hours per night and im still always tired. If I sleep only 8 hours im even more tired. Im desperate for love but im not gonna sacrifice my physical health for it. edit oops i meant 12 not 21
s_897_1142,"Is it normal to hit a wall when you're beginning? I've been playing since july of last year, so I absolutely still a beginner. With my teacher I have been working through the christopher parkening method books (still on volume 1). We have splashed in some other material (some chord work with folk music). I've been practicing about an hour to 1.5 hours a day. In addition, over the past month and change I have been mussing around with a strat that a friend is letting me long-term-borrow along with an application called rocksmith - usually another hour to another hour and a half a day. However, I seem to be hitting a pretty heavy wall. My teacher had been assigning 3-4 pieces a week, though that has slowed down. Reading reviews, apparently one of the big criticisms of the Parkening books is that they have a HUGE ramp up in difficulty. I am up to about exercise 60 (Beethoven's 5th) and I'm finding that I just can't keep up. Working on that one piece all week, playing extremely slow (15 bpm-30bpm), and I'm only about half way through. My fingers just can't seem to find the right spots on the fretboard and it doesn't seem to be sticking mentally. It just feels like my progress has seriously slowed down at this point and I'm feeling a little discouraged. Is this normal - like if I just keep pushing it will pass? Is there a ""hump"" when you're beginning? Or is this a sign I'm doing too much?"
s_8_877,I would cry and cry for days because where I am now I've been on the verge of suicide for a very very very very very long time. To be able to go back and prevent so many horrible things that happened I would give almost anything.
s_703_51,"Was asked how I was enjoying my life so far and I just started crying. So, I turend 29 recently and everything seems OK from the outside looking in. Moved, got married and got a promotion, all in the last 6 months. Last year was a tad bit stressfull with covid cases in my family and with doing constant overtime on a project. I was diagnosed with clinical depression a few years ago and I was doing fine for a while, but recently I feel I am slipping back into it. It is more a combination of burnout and depression at the moment. Never wake up rested or refreshed, don't have the will to work out or go out much. Managed to keep one hobby going because it is a weekly appointment and I don't want to miss what I paid for. My brain just stopped working, everything seems dull and I no longer feel fulfilled by anything. This feeling got worse after coming back from days off and getting sick right away with a stomach bug. How do you deal with this spiralling feeling? I would rather not take meds again if I don't have to..."
s_1455_331,What you're saying makes a lot of sense. I think I don't need medication because I'm not severely depressed or suicidal. I still have my bouts but I was fine for the most part after withdrawing. It's only an issue now because I've went through a major heartbreak and its sending me into episodes more than normal. I don't want to do meds but if things get worse I may have to. Being dependent on meds is my biggest fear though.
s_201_57,"How do I stop feeling like such a failure? Yeah... I didn't want to ever have to ask this question, but how do you keep going when you feel like there's nothing to keep going for? It's not that I'm actually alone, I have an amazing boyfriend, a great group of friends, etc. It's just this awful feeling that it's all going to be taken away from me. What started this depressive episode is my boyfriend texting me, saying 'I'm so fucking tired of everything this world has to offer"" and then telling me to forget about it, and that he'll ""be fine"" I know him, and know he wont be fine. This is making me worry, which is something I do way too much. I worry about impending doom, how much I weight (to the point where my food intake is being monitored because I don't eat ""enough""), my friends' happiness, being late to things, the things that go on while I sleep, etc. My mind is constantly going at 500 mph, and I can't keep up. It's a horrible existence, really. I have so much pressure on me to be something, to be the only person in my family to never get arrested, go to college, get a good job, make good money, etc. I used to be a star student and that was where I got my self worth. now, my grades are falling and so is my self worth. I feel like if I'm not my family's trophy child then there is no reason to be their child at all, that I'm just a disappointment. My mom made me go to a psychiatrist because of it. After practically interrogating me for a few hours, they got to the touchy subject I hate talking about- rape. I was raped as a child repeatedly by a cousin not too much older than me. Honestly, being raped didn't make me feel mad at him, I feel mad at myself for not saying no. I feel mad at myself for not stopping him. I feel mad at myself for not screaming at the top of my lungs. I feel... Used. Anyways, I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, PTSD, and Clinical Depression. They thought that the best thing to do for m was prescribe me an antidepressant. It worked amazingly at first, but after a while,I began to feel like a zombie. As if I was an empty shell. As if I had no control over my mind. I take the pill sporadically, but for the most part, I don't. Honestly, at this point, I feel like my life is going nowhere, and that theres no point in trying anymore. I was never pretty, I was never talented, hell, I'm not even a virgin and I'm 13, but I was smart and going places. Now... Now I'm just nothing. Why do I feel so lost? Why do I feel like such a failure? Should I go back on my medication?"
s_1265_99,That sucks. I had insomnia all my life until a couple of years ago when I got meds. Did anybody try an antipsychotic for a sleep medication? What pills did they give you for sleep?
s_2448_219,"I suspect it may be related to the anger she has towards my father who left us when I was 7 years old. They had huge problems even before I was born and they thought having me would help their marriage. They thought wrong. As a teen I figured we didn't get along because I was a typical broody teen but as I got older and moved out I realised it went beyond that, she just really didn't like me. At 29, I'm really sad that we don't have a good relationship. I just don't know what to do. The silver lining is, as I watch her get colder and more miserable I'm working on being warmer, happier and kinder to others."
s_2319_275,"Seeking Help For Anxiety Medicine My name's Josh. I have OCD, GSA, depression, ADD, insomnia, and bipolar disorder. I'm out of work because of it, and its made mine and my family's life very hard. I'm currently seeing a therapist and psychiatrist, who are working with me step by step. I'm here to ask for help. My anxiety has been getting harder and harder to cope with, and I need help. When I was working I would sometimes visit a natural market and buy powdered valerian root to make tea, it would ease my anxiety and I loved it because it was all natural. I'm hoping someone here can sympathize and understand how horrible dealing with these problems can be, and can extend a helping hand. I will in turn repay you for your kindness when I'm able to, though I'm not sure when that will be. I have an appointment with my psych next week and were supposed to discuss my med regimen. I'm asking if someone can pay for this powdered valerian they sell on Amazon. Its about $10 including shipping, and 4oz lasts a long time. Somebody please help me, I'm tired of crying because I can't deal with my anxiety. *<URL>
*Internet hugs*"
s_1351_95,"Fwiw im on an ssri. It took a little finagling to find the right dosage, but I have not experienced any weight gain as a result of it (i did gain weight due to a traumatic pregnancy, but that wasnt the Lexapro's fault). As for sex -- my libido went up once on it bc I cant fuck if I'm all anxious and having panic attacks. Some folk say they feel numb on them. For me, that only happens if the dose is too high. For a few of my friends, they needed to try a few different SSRIs to get one that worked for them. Full disclosure, I did experience a few side effects when I first started: weird ass dreams, insomnia, a headache, and I felt a little tipsy. They all went away within a week. After pregnancy, I developed pmdd amd now I up and lower my dosage according to my cycle. If I miscalculate and take too high a dose, I will be a little numb but it only lasts 24 hrs. And occasionally I get the weird dreams and insomnia when I come down again. But they only last a day or so. That's something to keep in mind -- it's out of your system very quickly. So, if you dont like it, you can get off it without much difficulty. They say it can take up to a month to feel the full effect, but I noticed it within a week. I was really nervous to go on them, but to say they were life altering would feel like an understatement. I regret nothing."
s_2815_1699,"Teeny-Tiny My doctors asked me to tell my story so other girls like me could read it and learn from my mistakes because Ill be dead soon. That makes me pretty sad to think about. I dont want other girls to be sick like I am. I guess they wont be sick exactly like me, because that would be crazy, but maybe they can read this so they wont make the bad decisions I made. When I was little, Mom used to hold me and say stuff like, Oh Katie, you fit so perfectly on my lap! Youre so teeny-tiny! I loved it. Shed keep me warm and hug me and I felt so great. Id always go to Mom if I felt sad or scared and shed just scoop me up, saying whats wrong, my teeny-tiny girl? and Id tell her what was making me upset and shed always always always make it all better. The most vivid memory I have was the day I turned 10. It wasnt of my party, which I vaguely remember being great, it wasnt the presents, some of which I still have, but it was when Mom had me in her lap that night and had tears in her eyes and said to Dad, Katies getting to be a big girl, huh? I dont remember what my dad said, but there was no denying it: I wasnt her teeny-tiny girl anymore. At 10 years old, I was about 410, maybe 100 pounds. I was growing fast. Both my parents are tall. I remember being scared. The scale kept going up, and by the time I was 11 I was 52, 120 pounds and I started getting boobs. At that point, when I was sad, mom would hug me tight and say the right things, but it all felt different. She never cradled me. She never had me in her lap. I felt cold and lonely even though I was never really cold or lonely. I just wanted to be closer to her like I was when I was little. So I decided to get little again. Mom started to notice when I pushed around my food on the plate, trying to pile it up on one side to make it look like I ate more than I really did. Youre a growing girl, she said, kindly but firmly. You need to eat. I couldnt leave the table until I was done. That night after dinner, I remember lying on my back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling the food in my stomach. Moms words youre a growing girl echoed in my mind and I felt so sick that I ran into the bathroom and threw up. I was really glad I had my own bathroom so they couldnt hear me puking. After I was done, I felt so much better. Lighter and smaller, even. Mom was so happy to see me eating normally again. She had worried aloud that I might be getting the flu, so seeing me chowing down like my old self pushed those worries right out of her head. What she didnt see was how I went to bed afterward and while the bathwater ran I was throwing it all up. I did this every day for years. One of the sad truths about throwing up your meals is that you dont lose all that much weight. I actually gained more. Sure, Id get rid of what Id eaten, but probably twice a week Id be lying in bed, wide awake, fingering my collar bones, hip bones, and ribs, and obsessing over food. Something inside me would snap, and Id run to the fridge or the cabinets and eat until I felt like I was bursting. Then, exhausted, Id go back upstairs and pass out on my bed. Calorie-for-calorie, after those twice-weekly binges I was eating more than I would if I was healthy. Except I really, really wasnt healthy. And nobody knew. All this built up to the last few months after I graduated high school. I was 511, 175lbs. 17 years old. There was absolutely nothing I hated more than my body. I was constantly lonely and wanted to try to take my mind off it all. I decided to get a job. When I told Mom I found a position at a place that recycles old medical gear, she was really proud of me for taking the initiative. It was bittersweet; I knew she was starting to see me as an adult. Not her teeny-tiny girl. I felt like a complete and utter failure. The recycling place where I worked dismantled big machines that hospitals used and sold the parts. I was the receptionist. I took phone calls and helped set up deliveries. The people I worked with were really nice and after a few weeks they gave me a key so I could get there early and have their coffee ready and their work orders printed out. That night, after everyone had left, I went back there and let myself in. I still feel bad about breaking their trust. A couple days earlier my coworkers were bringing in an old machine. They all were wearing heavy gloves and had on breathing gear like scuba divers. When they were done, I asked what it was. Apparently it was something hospitals use to give radiation therapy to cancer patients. I didnt know too much about that, so when I got home I went on Wikipedia and did a lot of research and then I got my idea. When I let myself in that night, the place was empty. I made a beeline for where they had that radiation therapy machine and I investigated it. Most of it was completely dismantled. What I was looking for was conveniently labeled and brightly marked in a massive lead container. It took me a while to get the cover off. Leads so heavy! But after I did, I saw a round metal part that looked like a wheel. I picked it up, rotated the mechanism, and it opened a little window in the front. A faint blue light was inside. I held it up to my eye and looked in. Nothing but that light. I thought it was probably what I was looking for. I brought the object home with me and locked the door of my bedroom. I worked to pry the thing open with a screwdriver but it seemed locked from the inside. Eventually I got frustrated and I turned the wheel again to open the window and pushed my screwdriver into the blue light stuff and tried scooping it out. It turned out to be pretty soft. A lot of it broke as I poked it with the screwdriver, and when I turned the wheel upside down, it tumbled out onto my desk. Now I could see how pretty it was. It was like chunks of glowing blue clay and sand. I gathered it up as best I could and put it away, save for the little bit I was going to use tonight. One of the things Id read about radiation therapy was that it made the poor people with cancer really skinny. They just totally lost their appetites. I couldnt believe it was true. Id always had such a big appetite. I kept telling myself that I need to be really careful when I take this stuff because if I get too much of the radiation I could get cancer myself. I took a pinch of the blue stuff, put it in my mouth, and swallowed it with a gulp of water. It felt warm going down even though the water was cold. Since Id gotten home from the recycling place Id been pretty warm, in fact. Like a little puppy under a blanket. That night I woke up sweating worse than Id ever sweated in my life. The bed was totally soaked. I figured weight loss was weight loss. Water weight wasnt really what I wanted, but it was better than nothing. I took a shower and changed the sheets and went back to bed. My stomach ached a little. When I woke up the next morning, my stomach hurt and I threw up a couple times. But, I wasnt even remotely hungry. That alone made the pain in my tummy pretty much go away. I didnt need to eat! Mom asked if I was bringing leftovers to work from last nights dinner and I lied and said we were going to get a pizza. I hate lying to Mom, but I didnt want her to worry. There was no need to tell her I wasnt hungry. At work, theyd finished disassembling the machine and started sending it out to wherever they send those things. Id been really careful to put the canister back exactly as I left it. No one checked to see if the little wheel was still there. The next few days were uneventful, aside from my stomach ache getting worse and having to puke once or twice. Id barely eaten anything since I started taking the radiation medicine. Whenever I got woozy from lack of food I ate an apple or a fat-free yogurt and I was fine. I was still sweating a lot. When I got on the scale, it said 168. After a week of eating nearly nothing and faithfully taking my radiation medicine nightly, my stomach ache got really, really bad. Id stopped throwing up, but this time it felt like I needed to go to the bathroom. I went, and it was awful. There was so much - I was shocked. Id apparently eaten and kept down more than I thought. It was agony coming out, too. I got on the scale after, though, and that helped me feel a lot better. Over the next couple days, one or two people told me how pretty I looked. They asked me if I lost weight and I said yeah, maybe a few pounds. Over my whole adolescence Id done nothing but get bigger. Now, finally, I was shrinking and on the way to teeny-tiny. I didnt feel too great, though. My tummy was constantly having me run to the bathroom and it still hurt afterwards. I figured I was getting rid of all the extra fat. I was in the shower about 10 days after I started taking the medicine and I was horrified to see some of my hair coming out. That was bad. Really, really, really bad. I stopped washing it immediately and let just the water rinse away the remainder of the shampoo. I got out of the shower and took like an hour blow drying my hair because I was too scared to use a towel that might pull more out. When the mirror was unfogged and my hair was dry, I checked to see how noticeable it was. There was a good-sized patch of bare, red scalp about 2 wide above my left ear. I pushed the hair around it down to cover the patch. Some more fell out. It had to be a nutritional deficiency from all the meals Id been missing. I put on my Titans hat and got dressed. When I brushed my teeth I noticed a little blood in the sink. I made a note to get some multivitamins after work. I didnt shower the next day because when I woke up that morning, there was more hair on my pillow. My scalp was getting pretty visible. It looked prickly and raw but it didnt hurt. Since I was off work I stayed at home and looked online for all the nutritional deficiencies that might cause my hair to fall out and my gums to bleed. Most of the ones were covered by my multivitamin, so I tripled the amount I took just to be on the safe side. I had to go to the bathroom five times during the 15 hours I was awake. By the last time I was incredibly light-headed and so thirsty. I weighed myself before I started downing water and my radiation medicine. The medicine had helped me lose 25 pounds in less than two weeks. Mom hugged me the next morning before I went to work. She ran her hands up and down my back and she remarked about how skinny Id gotten. Then, she said it: remember when I used to call you my teeny-tiny girl? I miss those days but I love you just as much as a grown up. Then she let me go. Pain, nausea, and despair washed over me. All of a sudden, my lightheadedness came back with a vengeance and I stumbled and fell on the kitchen floor. My hat fell off. With my head spinning, I vaguely remember Mom gasping, Katie what happened to your hair?! before I violently threw up on the floor and myself. It was all blood. I passed out to the sound of Mom screaming. I dont know how much time went by at the hospital. I wasnt completely unconscious, but all I remember up until recently when they used drugs to wake me up were images of doctors in the same scuba gear as the guys at work and saying weird words like caesium chloride and sloughed and gray that didnt mean the color. Today, I cant move or talk and Im writing this using a cool keyboard that can pick out letters using the movements of my remaining eye. Like I said in the beginning, Ill be dead soon. Im not too fun to look at anymore. My hairs gone. And my lower jaw. And my skin. The nice doctors are giving me medication that helps me manage the pain and keep me alert. They asked if they could do tests and experiments on me to help understand what ingestion of the radiation medicine does to the human body. Apparently there was a man in Japan a few years ago named Hiroshi Ouchi who got a similar level of exposure and the same stuff happened to him. They said it would help other people in the future if they could compare our two cases. Of course I let them. I cant eat food anymore. My esophagus got cooked away. Same with my stomach. The doctors are keeping me hydrated with a tube in my butt. I dont really like to think about it. I guess all the excitement I get as I wait here is when they weigh me every six hours to see if Im able to retain the fluids they give me or if it all seeps out into the sheets. They hoist me onto a pad and a little machine voice says a number. This morning it said 72. The next time it was 69. Mom and Dad have to wear those scuba suits when they come visit. Moms always crying because shes not allowed to touch me. Dad just stares. Right before I started writing this, Mom bent down and started whispering to me some of the stuff I remember her saying when I was small. I closed my eye and imagined being warm and safe on her lap. I love you, my teeny-tiny girl, she sobbed. I would have smiled if I had a mouth."
s_2903_576,That moment. Makes me cry every time.
s_1794_36,"you are VERY welcome. i can relate to feeling guilty over just about anything; i dont know why but guilt has always been a huge part of my anxiety issues. its like, i KNOW im trying to do the right thing and be a good person but somehow it often FEELS like im just a douche, if that makes sense? one of the hardest things sometimes is taking care of yourself and being kind to yourself. i think because we worry we are just being selfish or narcissistic ourselves, but not wanting to take on someone elses issues because you know how much it will hurt you actually shows empathy, in my opinion, which is the opposite of narcissism. especially if they only want you to hurt anyway. its like; if you can pull a drowning person out of the water, you can try to help them and give them mouth to mouth and bring them back to you. but if you cant pull them out, if they are fighting you and dont want your help, you have to recognize that before they drag you under with them. sorry that got a bit dramatic at the end there but i think its still relevant :/ i think knowing you are doing the right thing and dealing with your own guilt issues is a far more manageable task than dealing with other people abusing and shaming you because of THEIR issues. its not worth it, you do not deserve it, you are better than that and although it may not feel like it, there is NO SHAME in saving your own life (literally or metaphorically) if and when it comes to that. edit: spellings"
s_2904_670,"I'm much better now, but still have intrusive thoughts. Whenever I'm riding my bike I imagine an accident, a car hitting me, falling to the ground, smashing my head. Or I imagine other drivers complaining about how slow I am or my erratic direction. The more usual thoughts are negative ones, about how wrong everything is, how badly I do things, all my mistakes and faults. My mind is always looking for reasons to feel bad and guilty. Whenever I do something, there is a voice in my head whispering: ""You are doing it wrong. YOU are wrong"". The worst ones are about raping little kids. I know I would never do that nor I'm attracted to that but just having those thoughts popping on your head automatically whenever you see a little kid, damn, it's scary. Luckily this kind of thoughts are not usual anymore. When I was a teenager I use to have rituals like touching things the same amount of times in the left and in the right. I was obsessed with simmetry. I could spin a jar to the left, then feel obligated to spin it to the right to balance things. Then again to the left, but in a minor angle, again to the right... and so on until the handle stayed in the center. In hindsight, I think I'm getting better every year, so I still have hope and so you should."
s_2292_326,"[Times like this tend to crush all my hopes and dreams of getting over any of my problems](<URL>)
Okay, I'm about to go into far too much detail, so get comfortable if you plan on reading all of this. I love football, I love playing Madden, I love winning, and I ***hate*** losing. Here's how much I hate losing:
My favorite player in the NFL is Tom Brady. His win/loss percentage in the NFL is roughly 78%, which is the highest of all time. When I play online, I keep track of my record to an obsessive extent. Right now it stands at 57-40, which is just below 60%. It disgusts me just to look at it. I constantly calculate how many games I'd have to win in my next 10, or 20, or 50 matches to get to 70%, then to somewhere in the high 70s. Because if I don't match Tom Brady's win percentage, I feel like a failure at the game, so every single loss sucks a LOT more than it normally would. ""You feel like a failure at the game? Dude, that's cool, don't sweat it-- it's just a game."" My brain doesn't believe that. I take this game far more seriously than I should. Feeling like a failure at the game makes me feel like a failure at life, because of what you may have already guessed is a superiority complex. And to be honest, it's not the fact that I'm obsessed with the game as a whole, it's that I'm playing another human, and I'm obsessed with being better than *everyone* who challenges me at anything. I *have* to win at everything, I have to win handily, and I have to win often. In this case, I have to be as good at this game as Tom Brady is in real life, because, ostensibly, I know that achieving the win percentage he's reached in his career is possible. Extremely difficult, but possible-- and I take pride in accomplishing the improbable. Is the extent to which I take this game seriously a problem? Do I know how to fix it? ..."
s_1899_197,"This may mean nothing from an internet stranger, but I am SO proud of you. It takes courage to make that call. I finally decided to get help 2 years ago for my excessive anxiety too. I don't regret it. There are still days I feel anxious, but it's so much more controllable than it was. Seriously, good for you for making that call. I hope you get all the help you need to get back on track!!"
s_1913_223,I rerolled navaran and got scroom. Best decision of my life.
s_2969_500,I set up my own business after quitting and its been tough but I've learned far more from people and actually doing business than textbooks. I'm pretty positive about the future and I'm proud of my business.
s_1404_746,"No motivation and energy to improve my lifestyle Going to bed too late, eating only 1 meal per day and the rest is fat and sugar snacks, not working out at all my depression killed me I have no motivation or energy to even care about my health"
s_1792_217,I don't have to sleep much...like 4-5 hours and I'm good to go. I'd say a good chunk of my success in life has been because I'm always up at the crack of dawn. Coins: I'm shorter...face nothing to write home about.
s_1738_320,I'm extremely unlovable. I deserve to be hated.
s_2007_76,I'm completely empty anymore So it's all over. I can't feel something to people the way I did before. I don't really care about friendship anymore. I feel horrible but I'll be empty to everyone. All I will do is to take care of myself and don't care about nobody. I won't have any real friends anymore. I don't really want to have if that's the result. I will have to deal with my mom everyday which makes me worse. All I can do is dealing with this stomachache everyday. All I will feel is pain and I don't like this.
s_2800_49,I am extremely suicidal atm. The only reason that I havent commited again is because of my sister. We made a pinky promise that wed never leave each other (shes suicidal too) but I cant anymore. Im about to give up
s_1329_146,"Antidepressant side effects Hi everyone, 1st time poster in this sub. Hope everyone takes care of themselves today. Anyway, depression sufferer for about 6 years now. Went through about 5 different antidepressants before getting off them about 3 months ago in favour of a cannabis subscription. Results have been mixed. I do not do the cannabis everyday, and maybe if I did things would be better. But I'm feeling sad, angry, and just plain flat. I am thinking about going back on meds but the side effects on the most recent one I took included sweating through like 2-3 shirts per day and lack of sleep. Any advice from people on a cannabis subscription OR who have struggled with their med regimen but finally found something that worked would be appreciated."
s_2118_217,i feel so depressed out of nowhere how does this even work bruh
s_1506_1,"For once I'd like.... For once I would like someone to take care of me, to tuck me in and wake me up with breakfast. For once I'd like someone to miss me when I'm not there, and think about me when I'm not around. For once I'd like to be spoilt, like I should have been when I was a child, spoiled with cuddles, kisses, cuddly toys, wine and anything else! For once I'd like to stop pleasing other people and have someone just impress me. Take care of me. I'm fed up of taking care of everyone else and not getting it back. Right now I deserve to be looked after. I hate being depressed."
s_592_14,"For as long as I can remember, I have always been this way. When I was a child I'd feel depressed, anxious, jealous, lonely and casted out all the time. I'm not a girl so I never cried out loud. But I have always been conflicted on the inside. I have always felt that I'm worthless, that nobody wants me. And I was not wrong. Nobody in this world loves me and respects. My classmates always humiliated me in front of everyone. Nobody would confess they had a relation with me because it would destroy their reputation. Wherever I go, It's always the same story. Even after 20 years, nothing has changed. My only true friends have never been loyal to me and they all left me. Adults never took me seriously. Even strangers on the internet don't think I deserve respect. There is something about me. Something like a shadow that follows me everywhere I go. Something I cannot even find it, let alone change it."
s_2023_576,"Depressed, IC and IBS Flare For the past week Ive been in the middle of both an IBS and IC flare. I even went and had my urine tested just to make sure it wasnt a UTI. My bladder is in constant pain. Ive been taking AZO but it only numbs the urethra pain. And I cant take any Ibuprofen because I have an endoscopy in a week. Ive missed a lot of work. Im supposed to wake up in 3 hours to go to my job (8 hour Black Friday shift) and I dont think I can do it. Im in bed right now crying, trying not to wake my boyfriend up. Im probably going to be fired since Im already on final warning for missing too much work from pain episodes. I just wish I could enjoy life like I used to."
s_276_891,"More than I want to admit, I am unhappy and annoyed. More than not. Its just a place than in middle life relationships find themselves. Its not a game-ending thing, an attack against him from the outside world, is an attack against me. Loyal to a fault. I love him. My teeth are loose from grinding."
s_1483_222,"Well, and this is solely my experience, different people experience differently, but anxiety is an almost constant fear. I wake up in the morning with my heart racing and I have an absolute certainty that something terrible is going to happen very soon. Say I text my daughter and she doesn't respond right away? Logically I can tell myself ""well it's 5am and she's 14, she's asleep"" but my anxiety tells me that she's definitely been murdered. A car pulls up outside my apartment? Logically it's probably one of the other 10 tenants in my building. Anxiety says it's my landlord coming to evict me (even though I've paid rent and there's no reason) or it's maybe someone coming to murder me (no reason for someone to want to) or any number of things. Basically I'm in a constant state of flight or fight. Logically I can know I'm safe but my mind is always telling me ""no, worst case scenario is happening"". And it's everything, too. Yesterday my cat didn't come running when I filled her food bowl, logic: she usually doesn't, most days she is lazy and takes her time. Anxiety: she's definitely hurt. Or if I text a friend and they don't respond, they must hate me. And it doesn't stop. I have to take prescription sleeping pills every night just to get to sleep. I've literally pulled all nighters because I've run out. And it has to be prescription because otherwise I'll definitely mess up the dose and die. Then the depression is a bit easier to explain. It's basically a constant knowledge, that I'm worthless, I'm stupid, I'm unlovable, nobody ever has or ever will love me, everything I do is wrong, I'm a bad human being and I need to be dead right now. And it's not a feeling because feelings can be argued to be false, this is 100% fact, this is more real to me than saying that the grass is green. It comes and goes, though. Some days I'm more depressed than others. I can't say some days are better because even my good days are pretty awful. Every day I wish to die. I wish for an end. I've literally googled a list of all deities ever conceived and prayed to all to end my suffering. To get kind of gross and something that I'm a little ashamed of, I don't even brush my teeth for days on end sometimes until it tastes bad. Luckily that's rare, but it happens."
s_1692_39,"Tap tap tap tap tap-tap-tap About a month ago, I broke one of the hinges off the cupboard above my computer at work. Since then, the door wont shut all the way. I called maintenance to fix it, but they warned me they had a massive backlog of calls and wouldn't be able to get to me any time soon. Sure, seeing the door perpetually ajar was annoying, but I thought it best to leave the work to the professionals. The last thing I wanted was another citation from the workers union for overstepping my bounds. Last time I had the nerve to fix a loose screw on my chair, they lost their shit. As long as it didn't threaten to fall on my head, I figured there wasn't any harm in waiting. It wasn't until my colleague went on vacation last week that I realized I was wrong. There was something in my cupboard that only came out when I was alone. Having an office to oneself is probably every cubicle farmers dream. Privacy, space, and silence are things most people covet at work. Not me, though. In spite of being very high on the introvert scale, I have a need to be around people. I dont want to talk to or interact with them, mind you, but I find comfort in knowing others are around me. I also find it easier to concentrate when I *have* to make an effort to zone people out. Otherwise, I get distracted by ambient noise. Id only been alone in my office for a day, and already, I was feeling lonely. It wasn't just that the person sharing an office with me was gone, it was that almost everyone was away on vacation. I couldn't even hear people chatting about their weekend in the hallway, like they normally did. All I could hear was the clock ticking slower than on a Friday afternoon in high school, the sound of traffic outside the window, and tapping above my head. Tap tap
Tap tap
Tap tap
The tapping sound wasn't normal. My eyes darted towards the cupboard in a hurry, fearing the door was about to fall on me. Thankfully, it was as still as a vegan pondering the moral implications of everything on lunch menu when they *didn't* have someone there to complain to. Upon tilting my head, I noticed something inside the cupboard. Through the dark crevice, I saw two brown eyes starring right at me. I nearly had a heart attack as I rolled away from my desk in a frenzy. A flurry of possible explanations flooded my mind: it was a prank, a plush toy, a photo, a trick of the light. As I contemplated the many possibilities, I saw the eyes blink, and then retract into the darkness with a scurrying sound. I tried to still my frantic heart by taking a few long breaths, but it was as successful as using a single pouch of sand to stop a flood. I was terrified. If it had been a prank and Id been filmed, my reaction video would have gone viral. Here I was, an adult, freaking out over nothing. Horses still galloping in my chest, I reached for the first solid object at my disposal: a large photo frame hanging on the wall. I'm not sure how useful it would have been as a shield *or* as a weapon, but holding the 11x17 wooden frame made me feel just a *bit* safer. Slowly and cautiously, I reached a trembling hand to the cupboard door. Swallowing saliva as thick as rubber cement, I pulled it open, readying myself for what might be inside. The cupboard was empty. Well, not completely empty. My gym bag, emergency clothes, and work-related books were all in their respective places, but that was it. No creepy teddy bear, no scary photo, and, more importantly, no monster. I let out a sigh of relief, and laughed at myself for getting so scared. * Youre just imagining things*, I thought. Yeah, imagining a pair of eyes in the cupboard. I closed the door as far as it would go, and went back to work. For the rest of the afternoon, I jumped at every snap of the building settling and every gust of air from the A/C unit. My eyes continuously checked the crack above my head while my body tensed to the point of making my neck stiff. I felt like a child afraid of an unclosed closet door at night. I was beyond happy when it was finally time to go home. By the next morning, Id convinced myself that I was being silly. There was nothing in the cupboard. Heck, there wasn't even room for something to hide there anyway. It was business as usual for most of the morning, though as the day wore on, the feeling of loneliness came back. Even when he was around, it wasn't as though my office mate was chatty: we barely exchanged more than a casual hello and goodbye, but his absence still weighed heavily on me. I needed his presence, if just to hear his chair squeaking or his exasperated sighs whenever the boss emailed us. It was just so quiet without him there. Tap tap
Tap tap
Tap tap
I heard the light tapping sound above me. The hairs on the back of my neck turned to porcupine quills. Tap tap tap tap
Tap tap tap tap
I looked up. Tap tap tap tap tap tap
Tap tap tap tap tap tap
A hand. A shrivelled, rust-colored hand fingered out of the cupboard through the open crack. Its black, broken fingernails tapped against the polished surface in a rhythm that seemed to mimic my heartbeat. They moved faster as I pulled away and screamed a gut-wrenching scream. My heart pounded against my chest with the force of a crash test car smashing into a brick wall. To hell with logic, I reacted with pure instinct, leaping off of my chair so I could swing it towards the cupboard door. The hand retracted as I hit the surface, and pushed the door shut in one quick motion. The entire cupboard and its supporting structure shook wildly for a few moments, but then it stopped. I kept my chair over the door for as long as I could, until my arms tired, and I had to set it down. The broken door creaked open, but nothing came out. I dont know whether it was bravery or stupidity, but I opened the cupboard to try and see who was inside. Once again, I found it empty, but for my belongings. I took everything out, and then checked every nook and cranny for an explanation. Whoever or whatever was messing with me had to have a point of entry. Maybe it was some homeless person living in the walls? I dont know. Id read stranger things. Try as I might, I couldn't find an opening. Everything was bolted in tight, not a loose panel in sight. * Fuck this*, I thought, gathering my things. I wasn't spending another minute in that office. Come morning, I knew I had to go back to work. The boss would notice my absence. Still, I took precautions: I brought my tools to work. Union citation be damned, I was taking apart that cabinet. It took all morning, but I finally managed to dismantle the cupboard and its supporting structure, leaving only a bright white wall in its place. I piled the disassembled pieces on my colleagues side of the room, and went back to work. Id love to say that thats how my ordeal ended, but it wasn't. You see, this morning, I came in to work again. At first, everything was perfectly normal. By noon, I was feeling lonely, but then, I heard something coming from my co-workers workstation. I wheeled myself over and saw that the cabinet pieces were missing. * The janitor probably threw them away*, I hoped. As I turned back towards my desk, I noticed my recycling bin was shaking lightly. Had I accidentally hit it? Tap tap
Tap-tap Tap-tap Tap-tap
The familiar, heartbeat-like sound filled my ears as I approached the bin, increasing along with my own beat. I began to quiver as I looked into the inside. Beneath unorganized stacks of discarded papers, I could see two brown eyes staring back at me. I ran away, without even locking the door behind him. Now I'm home, where its safe, quiet and alone. Where all I can hear is the TV in the background, and the tapping from the kitchen. Tap tap
Tap tap
Tap tap"
s_697_62,"Ive also heard its not a good combo, thats the main reason Ive been so weird about it. Ive been on opiates for about 3 years so im pretty familiar with my tolerance and such with that but Xanax is pretty new and irregular in my life. I just know half a bar makes me calm and a full bar will knock me out and help me sleep. I have a lot of issues sleeping so theres that. Usually the opiates help with my sleeping but hasnt lately thats why Ive been wanting to take my usual Xanax for bed. Thanks for the advice.. Ill probably do that start slow and see how it goes, im just nervous of overdoing it."
s_1989_742,I have already planned my own suicide.
s_1160_93,I.. I simply don't know. I'd just sit/lay on my bed and do nothing for hours. I don't really know how to cope with this(any tips?). Or sometimes I'll cry. Sometimes it's just crying cuz i want to and sometimes my eyes cry themselves out without me realising. Sometimes I'll end up sleeping. Sometimes I go to my friends to have a talk but no one understands me so I'd just end up feeling worse. Sometimes i post an emotional facebook story and sometimes no one would look at it for hours. Or sometimes people look at it instantly but no one messages me and ask me how am I feeling. Maybe they are tired of me. Sometimes I try to listen to music but there's no really music that suits me as they'd be kinda noisy. But no music at all sounds..empty. I'd try to watch youtube too but i don't really like youtube so i'd just close the video seconds in it. Overall I just don't know what should i do. Being a hsp is tiring. It's more a curse than a blessing to me. I'm sorry that this is just whole negativity. Have a nice day hey folks.
s_2402_630,"My appetite has been terrible ever since I was a kid. I can't do it, it makes me sick to eat sometimes, but my family makes me. It just can't go down or else I feel ill."
s_2190_134,"My closest friend killed himself just over 7 years ago. I still miss him more than life itself. If I could trade the rest of my life to see him once again for just 5 minutes, I would hug him for the full five minutes letting him know just how much he is loved. And I would cry so hard. I dont believe he was selfish. He was hurting. Listen to the song Far Behind by Candlebox."
s_1499_1118,"Habitual quitter. What made you guys finally cut the crap and commit to losing it? I've been a little ""chubby"" for most of my life, but was a pretty good/healthy weight until Junior year of high school. I just got lazy. I didn't want to walk the four blocks home from school. Throughout college, I was just too lazy to go to class. I started putting weight on, went from 5'5 135 lbs when I was around 16, to 160-ish when I was around 20. I've recently been diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue, in addition to a spinal condition, which explains some of that, and which has also put my weight over 190 at one point. I am 5'7 now, so a tad taller, but 190 is way over what I want to be. I have struggled with binge eating for a decade, but I think I'm finally recovering from that because I've gone from binging 2500+ calories every other day, to just finding a snack when I feel like I want to binge. While I have been eating healthier over the past few months, I slip up constantly. I bought a treadmill but can hardly ever convince myself to get on it. "" Tomorrow"" is my mantra. I've been convincing myself to put my fitness aside to deal with my back, but that's not really it, either. I don't know what it is. I don't stick to anything for more than a couple of weeks. I give in at the slightest sign of an unhealthy meal, and instead of getting back on track, I just give up. So, loseit, what has kept you on track? What tricks, systems, or motivators do you have that have kept you from slipping again and again? I'm hardly making progress. The fifteen or so pounds that I have lost, I've only lost since I've stopped binging, and now I've been hovering around the same weight for months."
s_1692_774,"My name is Nathan, and I am being held against my will My name is Nathan, and I am being held against my will. I dont know how long Ive been here, but it feels like months. My prison is dark and I cannot see anything. From time to time, I hear sounds from the outside world. They are distorted and muffled, but I can make out my captors voices just enough to notice an eerily gleeful tone. The distant sounds of music also make their way into my ears. My captors play classical music all the time. Classical motherfucking music. I cant stand to hear it. Im trapped here and theyre forcing me to listen to fucking Mozart. I want to go home to my wife and daughter. Will I ever see them again? I smash my arms and legs against the walls of my cell; they are met with a spongy surface coated in nauseatingly squishy mucus. I guess not being able to see has its advantages. Im terrified of knowing what these walls are made of. The last thing I remember before waking up is going to a take-out restaurant to pick up a meal for my family. My wife asked me to have it delivered since it was raining so hard, but I insisted on going. The food is warmer when I go get it myself. Delivery boys always seem to stop by our house at the end of their route, and I didnt feel like having another lukewarm meal. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door, jokingly promising Id be back home in time for supper. After picking up our meal, I headed back towards my house. The rain wasnt letting up at all. My wipers could barely handle the load. I knew Id be home soon so I kept going at the same speed. It was a terrible mistake. I watched as a car on the opposing lane flew through a puddle and rammed me straight off the road. Clutching the steering wheel tightly, I tried to regain control of my vehicle. The image of the tree I hit is still burned into my retinas. I cannot recall anything after that. Ive been in this cell for so long, I barely remember how to talk. Im so lonely. My little Sophia will be turning 7 soon. Orhas she already turned 7? Its hard to tell time anymore. I used to count the days, but after they turned into months, I lost track. I want to go home. I want to hold my wife and kids in my arms and tell them I love them. Im not a perfect man by any means, but what did I ever do to deserve this? What did my FAMILY ever do to deserve this? I want to sit around our old kitchen table, with its crayon stains and chipped corners. As my thoughts continue to drift, I suddenly realize its getting harder to breathe. Theres something around my neck. My emaciated arms reach up to try and pull it off, but I havent the strength to do so. Maybe its better this way. My family must have moved on by now. I welcome the sweet relief of death. With freedom at my fingertips, I feel a large hand reaching for me and pulling me out of my prison. You son of a bitch! I was ready to die, damn it! Its too bright to see anything, so I keep my eyes closed. I can barely breathe. I cant move at all. I feel the hand slapping me firmly on the back, dislodging a chunk of mucus from my throat. I must have swallowed it when he was pulling me out. I cry out for my family. I scream and scream, begging for them to take me home. They dont listen to me. I hear them laughing. The man holding me speaks out: Its a boy! No shit, Sherlock. What the fuck did you expect?! Did you think my genitals would shrivel off while you kept me locked up!? I continue to scream and thrash about in a desperate attempt to free myself. Nothing works. Fucking shit. I must be in hell. ---------
Ive been out of my spongy cell for a few months now. It was hard for my eyes to adjust to the light. I must have been in captivity for longer than I thought. My captors pretend not to understand when I scream at them. The dark cell has been traded in for a more traditional prison made of metal bars. I tried escaping many times, but Ive always been caught. I think my captors are filming me. Those sick sons of bitches. They laugh and taunt me, jiggling my prisons keys just outside my reach. They make fun of my broken body. They take such pleasure in watching me trying to crawl away whenever they take me out of my cell, only to place me back where I started. Their cruelty knows no bounds. They dont even allow me the dignity of using the bathroom on my own. Its just as wellif they treat me like an animal, then I will act like an animal. I find great pleasure in retaliating against them by urinating on them when ever they try to shame me. I feel no shame anymore. I only feel the burning desire for revenge. When they feed me their poisonous food, I toss it back to them and try my hardest to throw up on them. I make a game out of trying to get it into their mouths. I know now that I will never be free, but I sure as fuck wont go down without a fight. I will spend every damn day of this miserable life trying to inflict onto them the same hell theyve inflicted onto me. I wait at night for them to go to bed, and then I scream at the top of my lungs. I enjoy causing them sleep deprivation. Its just a little solace in my otherwise horrid experience. Sophia, my darling daughter. If you can hear meplease know that I love you. Cher, my beautiful wife, Im sorry I didnt take your advice. I should have just had the meal delivered. I hope you know how much I miss and adore you both. Please know that I am here against my will. I would do anything to be in your arms again. I love you."
s_1404_629,"Extreme lack of motivation and focus 3 years ago was my first year in college. I was very motivated and excited that college began. I was so excited that I studied alot and did my homework very quickly. I was so fast, that in the middle of the class I was too far ahead with my homework and studying that I just told the teacher I had nothing left to do and he literally sent me home because he could not come up with any more work for me. I always scored 9's and 10's (out of 10) on tests and I felt like it was also very easy to do that. Looking at myself now.. I hate studying and doing homework. Don't get it wrong, I love the subject I'm studying. I just don't seem to have any mental energy anymore. Where 3 years ago I could study many hour per day without getting tired, now I cannot even focus ONE MINUTE without getting distracted. I became the complete opposite type of student as what I was 3 years ago. I am studying the right thing so that is not the cause of my motivation problem. I am diagnosed with depression and autism, but I already had these before I started in college 3 years ago, and after getting diagnosed with depression I was still that motivated and hardworking student. Why did I lose my motivation to do homework instead of playing games and watching youtube and browsing reddit? Why are these distractions so much more tempting now than 3 years ago? I just want to waste my time on the internet rather than doing anything productive. Why is it so hard to be like 3 years ago? What mental issue could this be? What can I do to get my focus and mental energy back to productivity?"
s_1151_536,"I figured out early on that I lack the patience for having kids, and never really felt the urge. I like that I can make decisions that affect only me -- I've made good and bad, but the bad ones only hurt myself. No regrets. These are my priorities and mine alone; if yours are different, I'm behind you 100%. I'm happy to leave the child-rearing to people who want to do it and are reasonably good at it."
s_1551_232,"Thats the thing, the mental drive isnt there. I try forcing myself but when I do the focus isnt there. I have old injuries that caused depression, I recently started physical therapy because I want to get better both physically and mentally. Trying to do the program at home is hard, the weakness just drains me"
s_1749_863,That is way too much life. It's not like I'm suicidal or anything. But after a couple hundred years I'm sure I would be.
s_1551_30,"Depression and injuries kept me from working for years, worried about my future Im 22, past couple years have been very hard for me. Brushing my teeth and showering was a chore never mind taking out the trash or cutting grass, let alone having a job. Back then I didnt care or think about it much, I felt expected to work but had no drive or motivation. Only now am I feeling guilty and ashamed, if anything I wish at least had a part time job and maybe I could have a little pride. Maybe having a job wouldve helped me out of my rut faster, Id maybe have a little more money even though I didnt care about it. I hate myself and wish certain events in my life played out different, everything that happened to me since high school has gone wrong. Every time I tried to be out going and try things it only made life worse, more setbacks more problems more complications more pain. So I just went inactive out of fear of making things worse. Wish I didnt but I did, I was alone and incapable of making the right decisions. Incapable of asking for help. Im struggling hard now facing my issues head on instead of hiding from my problems, but its bringing all these negative feeling back to the forefront that Ive repressed for the past 2 years being numb. I feel like Ive missed out on so much, most of my youth feels wasted and I find myself feeling hopeless at times. God willing Ill turn my life around before my next birthday in august, but progress is slow so my hope levels are low"
s_993_621,I just don't have the energy. I would somehow manage office. But after coming home I turn into a potato. I don't know if it's mild depression or plain laziness.
s_1586_1434,Texas Rangers' starters ERA over last 11 games: 10.25 I wanna kill myself
s_2401_137,"Same question. I wanna kill myself but don't wanna die. But also don't really like living. I think about it all the time. I wonder if that gives me the ""suicidal"" label"
s_993_606,Your post is very well written. About life being endurance contest for us. My suicidal ideation too comes from not having control over my thoughts. This illness itself is the cause. Everything would be going good and hits you out of nowhere. It's good that you have found an understanding spouse. I am at that point when society looks at single women and wonders why she isn't married it. There's lot of societal and parental pressure. Most of the time my thinking is that I don't want to ruin another's life with this illness. It's lot of burden for another person to bear. Taking it one day at a time is good advice. But birthdays and New year's make you realize a lot of time has passed and your life is not what you imagined it to be.
s_1685_1392,this makes me feel sad for some reason
s_993_83,I couldn't do much . I attempted twice. Then my family made me promise never to do it again. Whenever it went all downhill I would think about them gave me enough reason to not do it. I lived like a zombie in depressive episodes. Also I knew after two attempts that you can never be sure you would die. It was a twisted way of thinking but it kept me alive. I just wanted to stop existing in later years. Also I have lived recklessly because I thought I didn't had much future. Like I was living on borrowed time. Now I have to clean up my mess. It was all a mess.
s_2139_27,"I have not been properly diagnosed with ADHD hence the post I just made trying to get clarification lol. But when I am sad its never a simple sad. Its always accompanied by feelings of self hate, hopelessness, worthlessness, and suicidal ideation. I dont know what its like to be sad but not wanting to die because of that sadness. When I am mad its not just ugh im mad about this. Its I want to bang my head on a wall and throw everything around. When bored I get depressed and feel like Im in a existential crisis. When I mess up first thought in my head, I want to die. Im gonna kill myself. I cant do anything. When I am annoyed I get very snappy and raise my voice almost without thinking. So I feel you. My faith in God has helped me alot to cope with my issues and have hope for my future."
s_2402_862,"I hate being alive. I hate it. I want to die but no-one will let me. I've suffered from Mental Health problems for 8 long years. I always post here, but nothing changes. Nothing will change. Let me die already, I've given up."
s_1703_963,"I wonder the same thing. Maybe I just see the problem because I'm the problem, or maybe I'm playing the blame game with myself. I don't know. I can tell you that her ambivalence to the issue isn't going to assuage my remorse. I'm as dedicated to it today as I was four days ago. It was a petty way to spend a likely cumulative two or three hours a day, and I can be so much better than that."
s_391_13,"Unfulfilling relationship between me (24M) and my girlfriend (29F) \*\*TL;DR;\*\* : I have been in a 5 year relationship and I have troubles dealing with the fact that me and my girlfriend seem to deal/prepare for the future in different ways and perspectives. Dear fellow reddit members, I have been in a relationship with a girl I met in college for 5 years now. She had switched her degree, hence we were in the same class despite our age gap. We studied together for a test, and after that we dated for 6 months before entering a relationship. For the first three years things went well, as we were exploring things together. I think she revelead several characters traits that desirable in a long-term partner. However, after three years, I feel that we've grown apart. She is a nice person, patient and calm, altough insecure about herself. But I feel she respects me and tries to support my goals, which I do not take for granted, specially in the age we're living in. I am a loner person, who tends to dedicate his time to studying and working, and prefer to spend time alone with her or a small group of people, and she also respects and understand that. However, where I think we drift apart is regarding our attitude towards our future. I know that life is pretty tough, and I try to work and safe to have a more secure future. She is more easy going regardings these issues. I had to push her to get her first job, at 27, and up to this moment I wish she had taken more steps towards helping securing a better future for ourselves, specially since she would also like to have a family. This messes up my mind because I grew up in a family which struggled financially and I am afraid that this might be the Journey that is ahead for me. I am sorry, I do not mean to be ungrateful. Relationships are hard. Emotions are hard. I just feel strange and I was hoping some feedback could help me understand this situation more clearly"
s_1867_656,Agreed I also hate myself
s_84_34,"Can depression change your sanity? I'm just so tired of being depressed. I'm just done. It's driving me crazy. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of being numb. I'm tired of watching time goes by, knowing if I don't do something different... then it'll be all I will ever know... I'm just SO tired."
s_1352_664,"This is such a great point! When I gain some weight and know its time to cut back to a deficit, I get bummed out and feel like my food enjoyment is over. Sure, the diet adjustment period sucks, but I always end up enjoying my food more because Im savoring it instead of mindlessly overeating."
s_2184_181,"Unsure about Recovery is anyone like not really sure if they want to get better? I want my hair to stop thinning and i want to be healthy but i also dont want to hate my body. people are starting to get worried about me and i dont want them to.. i feel bad. I just am concerned that no matter how much i lose, ill still hate myself."
s_2606_237,"I am like you, my brain just won't stop. I have a lot of trouble sleeping, and it makes my depression even worse. Sometimes I keep myself busy only to have nightmares because all those repressed feelings are coming out when I sleep. What makes you think you're a failure? I have found going through this process works for me a little. Maybe you can try it and see how you go? I usually like to write it out because it gets it out of my head and onto paper. Notice you're feeling uncomfortable emotions. Identify all the emotions you're feeling - angry, sad, frustrated, annoyed, etc. Once you've done that try to rationalise them - why do I feel this way? Did I do something or did someone else do something to make me feel like this? Figure out - is your feeling/reaction helpful? If No - then you need to let it go e.g. by forgiving yourself. If Yes - work out what action you can take and when. Then until you can take that action, leave it aside and don't think about it anymore, until the time you take the action."
s_8_622,"Not sure what else to do, Please HELP I'm almost 24 years old and I've been suffering from depression, anxiety, and ADD my whole life. My main symptom that I can never get over is the emptiness/anhedonia and I'm always tired and low energy and low sex drive and low concentration. I never have an appetite and nothing brings me any warm pleasure inside. It makes every moment of my life so painful. I see so many posts of people on here who I know haven't tried hard yet and are already giving up and how terrible things are for them. I look at them and see so much hope that some therapy, some medication, some experimental thing will work that they haven't tried yet. Then I look at myself who's tried everything to get better and I want to die. I've tried 12 different antidepressants long term, I've tried 8 different ADD meds, I've tried ketamine infusions, TMS therapy, countless supplements, and now after finding out my testosterone levels are very low but not low enough for my doctor to give me replacement hormone therapy I want to die. There's nothing worse than being told for years that something will work and that there's hope and for years after years trying everything and never feeling any better. My mind is in bit of a better place, and therapy and meditating has helped that, but in my body I feel like hell every moment of my life. Not sure what to do anymore please please help"
s_2641_801,"Every time I cry, my tears coagulate into the shape of my long-dead god. How do I fix this? My eyelids also scream every time I blink. It's quite startling. I've already tried killing alternate versions of myself with the tears, to see if that may cause some sort of infection throughout the timelines. ( I live in timeline ZR;2n3). I'd like some help by tomorrow, I'm selling my car and I'd like to make a good impression."
s_1620_81,"My cousin committed suicide a few weeks ago She jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. She was 41, I believe. I never knew her that well. I only met her once in my life back when I was in elementary school. My cousin had been diagnosed with depression some time ago and had been battling it intensely with therapy and medication. I was told by other family members closer to her that she even considered doing some form of voluntary electroshock therapy to cope with the feelings and make them go away. I myself have been struggling with sadness and horrible self-esteem issues. I myself have never been to a therapist because I'm too afraid of what my parents might think or say, or if they ask the reasons why I want professional help. When you hear about someone's death, you're supposed to feel remorse, sorrow, sadness. Typically this is me too, but it was different this time because it struck a chord with me. It angered me. I became jealous of my cousin. She escaped her hell. I'm still in mine because I don't have the guts to off myself or get help. Does it make me a monster for not feeling sympathy? For being heartless? To be selfish in this way?"
s_1738_331,"Can't work anymore and need assistance Long story short, I believe I have autism. The problem is, noone believes me. My therapist did not diagnose me with it five years ago when I went in for weekly sessions (I stopped going because it was too expensive). I want to get diagnosed and go on disability because I can't work anymore. Working causes me too much stress, anxiety, severe depression, and meltdowns. I'm not just whining or being lazy. I really do mean what I'm saying. I've struggled in every job I've worked and they are all basic jobs. I am able to hold down my current job because it is easy enough but I am also in intense mental anguish. Not lying at all. I'm barely able to hold it together mentally. Sometimes I go into fits of rage while on the job. Sometimes I get panic attacks and go through suicidal ideation. Fortunately I'm by myself and nobody is around to see me have my meltdowns. I'm currently medicated but that's just not enough for me. It doesn't help enough for me to function fully. Why should I go to work if I can barely function? I believe I am disabled and therefore should receive assistance from the government. How do I get them to give me a diagnosis? I believe disability is $700 a month? I know that's not enough to live on but all I really need is a roof over my head and something to eat and drink. I am not wanting anything more in life than my mental sanity and my happiness."
s_2023_1348,"Im probably going to try this starting tomorrow because my stomach is constantly freaking out. If I dont eat, it feels like my stomach is turning inside out, and then when I do eat, I have bad heartburn, bloating and pain, sometimes with cramps. Thank you for your reply, it means a lot. I really feel alone in this irl because no one else I know has gone through this."
s_276_620,I feel successful
s_356_102,"I am extremely unattractive, physically and in my personality. I always fuck everything up and care too much. I always say nothing when i should have said something. I am devoured by fear, shame, and anxiety. I have been abused by all the people i held close. Maybe i deserved it. I have a thin line between empathy and apathy. I either care too much or not at all. I am a horrible person that never wonders why anyone else is sad. I only focus on the pain thats mine. I always think horrible things that make me only hate myself. My self esteem is gone. I do not like anything about myself. Im so damn ugly in everyway. I dislike the way i push everyone away and i hste that i isolate myself. Im so alone and its all my fault. I want to die is the most brutal way. I want to suffer. I deserve it."
s_1551_369,"Feelings of pointlessness and hopelessness, having constant doubts and Im ashamed of myself. I hate myself, can I fix this? It all stems from feeling worthless and incapable of taking care of myself due to physical injuries. Im 23 and my body has been fucked up for the past 5 years, I dont want this to be my whole life. This should be my prime you know? Ive went to a physical therapist but I only have 20 visits on insurance so I have to do it all on my own and dont have the motivation to stay consistent. Has anyone managed to conquer something like this in anyway?"
s_3040_703,"I am my father's daughter I recently quit smoking weed. I don't remember the last time I was this anxious. I wake up multiple times a night after having falling nightmares. I've been dreaming otherwise about a man who emotionally abused me. I get drunk all day, every day. I don't remember the last day I didn't get drunk. I get the shakes every morning, and I don't feel normal unless I'm drunk. About a month ago, my dad finally went into alcohol rehab. He's now in an Intensive Outpatient Program for it. When I was six, I remember him teaching me that a certain hand gesture meant ""go get me another beer."" And I'm turning into him. The last time I went without booze for 3 days, I had to talk myself down from cutting or trying to kill myself multiple times a day. I hate that a handle lasts me two days; I hate that I need to bring a flask with me to class; I hate that I need to get drunk to spend time with my family; I hate that more than half of my money goes to booze. But most of all, I'm terrified of what could happen if I were to quit."
s_313_1007,"Who is she? - First story. Based on [this image](<URL>) by [Aaron Needham](<URL>) posted [here](<URL>)
This was the first story I ever posted to Reddit. September 1, 2013. ---
Looking back, I wonder if I was crazy before I even left. That was four days ago, when I loaded into my Volkswagen Rabbit and headed into the New Mexico desert for the night. To think... At that point I would have done anything to just run away. That car had never been a real winner. I bought it off a kid from my high school as he left for college. It was a washed out silver/blue piece of shit that he'd spray painted a skull and crossbones onto the front. And to top it off, I knew fuck all about cars. So when it broke down about 4 hours from the last time I saw a paved road and started pissing oil and billowing steam from the engine, I was helpless. I checked my phone, standing on top of the car and just saw one middle finger of a signal bar pop up before the battery died and the screen went black. I was silently furious. Furious with myself for pushing the limits of how far I could get out into the blank desert. Furious with my mom for getting arrested and making me have to move out here to New Mexico with my dad in the first place. The sun started to go down, and I started walking. I couldn't follow the rabbit's tracks because I knew there was nothing at all back that way. So I picked a direction perpendicular to them, South I guess, and started walking. I wasn't really sure how worried I should have been at that point. I just figured that I'd have to find something. I should have been a lot more concerned. I walked as far as I could that first night. Without the sun it got cold and harder to maintain my direction. I walked for hours. Sometimes humming songs to myself, sometimes yelling for help, sometimes yelling curses at my parents. After a while though, I just walked. I slept that morning until the heat and the light woke me up, then started walking again. All I remember is walking, walking on with my eyes closed against the harsh white brightness of the desert. When the darkness came again I sat and rested my legs. My mind was blank and numb from the day. Burned away from the sun. I remember crying a lot, but I don't remember feeling anything but tired. In the middle of the night I started walking again. I had to get out. Another day like that could kill me. I started hearing things in the darkness. Scuffles of animals moving, following me. Waiting for me to drop dead. It was only a few eternities into the next day when I saw a building in the shimmering distance. A cry of relief passed my cracked lips as it came into focus. I knocked until my knuckles stung, cracked and bled on that fucking shed. There was no one there. There was no evidence of anyone being there. Not even a dirt road or indentions of tires worn into the desert. It was just a corrugated metal shed that had sprung up out of the desert. At noon, the sliver of shade on the side of the shed went away. I hung my head and started walking again. More hours. More nothing. The sun was settling onto the horizon. Suddenly, screams pierced the evening air - some kind of horrible monster in the distance. My legs didn't respond when I commanded them to run. It was all I could do to turn and shuffle away from the screams. The sound was loud and inhuman. I looked back and saw dust being kicked up in a cloud headed straight for me. A growling, snarling noise joined the ear-splitting screams. Then, nothing. I looked back to see a great white beast crouched and ready to pounce, the dust settling around it. I stumbled and fell onto my back. And for a moment I admired the reds and oranges of the sunset. A Tequila Sunrise spilt over the vast open canvas of the sky. Onto that canvas, a woman's head and shoulders appeared. In the low light, her skin appeared blue. Her face held a look of blank, serious determination. The same look that had been melted onto my face. A fellow wanderer. I felt calm. Then after a small movement, she held a knife, and all calm that I had felt was replaced with animal fear. The realization that the beast was still there, a few yards behind her, and that she was somehow a part of that beast. A monster to be feared. There to end my long march at last. She didn't end me there in the desert under that fiery sunset. Instead, she brought me back into the world that I sought to escape; brought me here to the hospital in the belly of what a fevered mind saw as a great white beast. Who is she? She is the one who saved me."
s_1483_30,"I'm 33 next month. I've felt this ever since as far back as I can remember. I feel so worthless, so empty. Nothing I do will make a difference. The only difference I've ever made was while in the military. And that was a negative difference on peoples' lives, so ultimately it makes it worse."
s_949_967,I got high for the first time yesterday and i was super tired and really spacey today. Is that because of the weed? So last night around ~10 I went out with a friend and we smoked with some people using a bong. I hit it twice with just a bit of smoke left in it and it didn't do much and then the third time I took a pretty big hit that gave me a nice body high and a bit of a head high. About 45 minutes later I went home and crashed super hard. It felt like I got an amazing nights sleep and woke up well rested but all of today I was really tired and spacey and I almost fell asleep in my business class. I got home and napped for like four hours. Was that from the weed or did I just not get as much sleep as I thought I did?
s_2958_164,"I was on an upswing but the other day was my exgirlfriend's birthday. I think I'm headed for a serious episode. For the past few weeks I've been feeling better about myself, I was starting to feel I might actually have some worth or someway out of feeling horrible. Then this week was my ex girlfriend's birthday. She left me for a tall, handsome, talented, socially comptant engineer. All I've been thinking about is how unappealing I am, every horrible thing that I can think of about me. I'm short, scrawny, have acne, am socially awkward, insecure, argumentative, anxious, needy and boring. I basically have every unattractive characteristic there is. I screwed up everything to the point where she was the only thing making me happy anymore. Things were looking good at the beginning of last year, then I went and messed everything up. We were even planning to move in together sometime this year, now I'm more alone then I've ever been. I though I was feeling better, I thought i was moving past this and putting that relationship to rest. That's obviously not the case."
s_2641_519,I do not get angry at things which cannot retaliate.
s_210_78,Jesus Christ... I'm so disappointed in myself that i immediately knew what you meant...
s_1551_121,"How to get that initial motivation to get over the first hump to get a workout started? Lately Ive been putting my workouts off all day until last minute, and that anxiety of completely doing nothing all day hits me and I end up working out super late and fucking up my sleep schedule. I want a more disciplined routine so i can get everything on my daily bucket list done and not just barely get a strength workout done before bed. I also feel like I push everything else off until I can get the workout done first, that adds to the anxiety so regardless of if I work out I still feel like shit because I didnt get everything else done. Feeling insecure, lazy and weak isnt motivating me like it should. I know working out altogether is what I need and Ill feel better but i just cant for whatever reason until I feel that pressure. I need a mindset change or something, but no matter what I do I cant shake myself free of whatever this is. Its hard to explain, its like I feel restless and incapable of action at the same time."
s_1965_10,"Adderall potentiates benadryl tripping?! Had a really wierd experience today that doesn't make much sense. This is also essentially a trip report. For reference, I'm 22, 103lbs (mild degenerative disorder), I have tried many different drugs; and as a general rule substances do tend to effect me strongly. So last night I took 30mgs of adderall while hanging out with a buddy. Was intense, but I still had a good time. Anyway few hours later I am starting to come down and I really want to get sleep before work today so I take 50mgs of benadryl. JUST 50mg, two standard doses. Occasionally I've taken 25/50mg to get to sleep at night but I've definitely never experienced anything on it before other than getting drowsy...so, like twenty minutes later I'm getting in bed, and I turn on this white noise ten hour youtube video I sometimes use to help me sleep. I lay there for a while, before noticing that I'm hearing strange noises in the video that I haven't heard in it before. Mechanical noises. What sounds like garbled voices. Wondering what the fuck is up with my ears, I turn the light on, intending to see if I still hear it after moving around for a moment. That's when I notice mild but obvious kaleidoscope visuals on my walls. So I lay back down with the light on, and for maybe ten, fifteen minutes I am watching the patterns trying to figure out how the fuck I have psychedelic kaleidoscopes out of nowhere; while only on an adderall comedown. And then; I saw the first translucent spider moving inside the wall. I immediately made the connection that it had to somehow have been the benadryl - even though I've never tried to trip dph before I follow a lot of drug subreddits and know about it from there, and I have a friend who has done it, 700+ club and all; and he's described the experience/visuals in detail to me. So now I'm laying there wondering how a dose of benadryl that has never effected me beyond making me drowsy before, is suddenly making me see and hear things. The only different variable from taking it in the past was now I had adderal in my system. I've researched pharmacology about both of them this afternoon, and haven't found any answers... Anyway, I got several different effects, mostly visual. It was like there was another, thin layer of reality inside the walls of my room; which was where most of the stuff I saw was. There was also a thin layer over my vision - where the shadows and definitions of distance in my room made up another realm that I could kind of see into. There was a fair amount of translucent spiders, and they felt pretty real. They moved completely realistically, y'know the spider movements that make your skin crawl and shit. The only time they did more than moving around inside the wall though was when one came out from behind my poster, and suddenly dropped down towards me before vanishing. I jumped pretty hard lol. Occasionally I saw some bugs, like a centipede, one of those deep sea spider crabs, a beatle, and even bacteria like you'd see moving under a microscope. All translucent though. If my eyes unfocused, the realm I could very faintly see within the natural shadows in my room would show me huge shadow spiders; that for some reason were always directly walking towards me. I also had little visual glitches. Pieces of different things in my room would jump out of place, then go right back when I would look directly at it. There were little light distortions. Out of the corner of my eye my poster would be distorted or show something different. After a while I even saw a few faces in the wall, although they were mostly translucent and didn't go anywhere else. If I focused on them I would hear their voice in my head. They felt kind of sinister. As I laid there I also noticed my thoughts this whole time had been wild, nonsensical and almost cartoony. Just kind of going like that in the background. I was also pretty tired at this point, and as I focused more on the nonsensical thinking; occasionally the things I was seeing in my head would suddenly appear on a surface in my vision, almost as though that item had turned into a flat screen TV. These effects, while definitely present; weren't very strong or overwhelming. I didn't have much of a headspace other than a mild, numb delirious state, and physically just lethargy. I fell asleep after an hour or so. This was all very wierd for me. I didn't feel negative at all during it, I was just morbidly curious and fascinated by what I was experiencing. I did notice things had, just...an overall sinister feel to them. But it wasn't enough to freak me out. I am aware how nightmarish benadryl can get on high doses, how excruciatingly physically unpleasant and even permanently traumatizing and damaging the mental state can be. And so I still don't ever want to go there even after this. I am extremely curious though, I do want to see more of what I saw with this. I think in a week or so I'll try and recreate the experience. Take adderall again, wait a couple hours or so and this time take a somewhat larger benadryl dose. Definitely not more than 100/150mg if only 50 did this to me. In the meantime if any of you have any clue how this was chemically or psychologically possible I'd love to hear it. TL;DR - I took a standard benadryl dose on an adderall comedown to try and fall asleep; it made me dph trip and I can't figure out how or why. I did my best to outline the experience."
s_2705_127,"about how I have spent my day. I started off with a lot of activity but now im tired. School 10-12
Gym 12-1
Haircut
Shower
Wendys
CNN/MSNBC
Now baseball. I dont even like baseball"
s_2391_816,"It's...complicated. Taste isn't a factor so much as aversion to food is. I seem to remember^[citation ^needed] that appetite suppression has been linked to the patient's genetics, so YMMV. This stuff is used to treat eating disorders, though, so that gives you an idea of how powerful it is in this respect. The effect only lasts so long as you are actually on the meds, so breakfast (and probably dinner) shouldn't be affected at all. Methylphenidate already has a rough comedown, though, and low blood sugar makes it much worse, so it's not a good idea to let yourself have two meals. Speaking personally: sometimes it's a simple matter of the MPD turning my focus into a freight train that barrels right past the feeding cue station and does not want to stop. It honestly doesn't occur to me to eat, and I receive none of the classic hunger cues from my body except for my blood sugar inevitably crashing. SOMETIMES though it causes revulsion to the thought of food. I liken it to that feeling you get when you've eaten too much and someone offers you more food. My body finds it hard to *believe* that it could need sustenance, and my brain doesn't appreciate being taken off hyperfocus mode to do something it doesn't think it needs to do. Pushing past this can be tricky but there are always things I can find that my body will be OK with. I'm not a picky eater, but MPD makes me one. Little snacks help but it's better to bite the bullet and eat a full meal on schedule. I also have unrelated colitis, so this may be a factor in my case. Honestly, the comedown from MPD is the biggest problem for me. I turn into a big bearded diva if I'm not careful, so I NEED to remember to have lunch. This will seem unmanageable at first but go easy on yourself in the late afternoon (taking a 5 mg ritalin at around 2:30 also helps soften the down curve for some), and it will subside after awhile
Was the doctor putting you on *both* atomoxetine and MPD though? As I said Strattera would be the bigger concern for me with the things you listed. PS: Yeah, people can negative about this med. I keep coming back to it though, and recently went back on after 2-3 years without anything. People have cause to be negative about all of the meds, though. Nothing is going to be 100% take-the-good-leave-the-bad. It's a matter of finding what works best for you. Adderall, for instance, is not something I want to touch ever again. Other people on this sub will tell you the opposite, but that's just what works for our individual brains."
s_2184_520,"That's how I feel when I even talk about it to my therapist -_- I feel like since I'm not underweight yet, I must not have a big enough problem so I feel guilty bringing it up"
s_702_625,"If you are more depressed than ever, try a new medication. Buproprion (wellbutrin) worked for me in terms of depression, but spiked my anxiety and eliminated my ability to eat anything. Generally with antidepressants, there's like a two week period where your mood will slowly start to change. If you feel after that period like you want to end your life, and you can't really pinpoint why, it's definitely time to come off that med. I've tried about 8 different meds (SSRI's don't work for me either), and this has definitely become my rule of thumb after I've had some dangerous low moods on a couple of meds (citalopram and sertraline)"
s_84_99,"On anti-depressant for the first time I'm on Lexapro. I just started taking it on April 23rd. Wasn't too long ago. The doctor diagnosed me with chronic depression (I've had depression since I was 11/12 years old... I'm 26 now) and anxiety. He felt Lexapro would be a good start for me to be on it. With the medication, it does help but lately for some reason, I'm always up this late and I would go to bed at 2am. Then again, it may not be related to the medication. I feel my body running on fumes. I'm exhausted. Though I feel the need to be on computer often now because I find myself becoming more entertained on it. I feel the need to research and find new ideas in life. Am I trying too hard to pursue, trying to get my life back in order? To make up for lost times?? I don't know, I don't get myself. I still find myself, staying inside at my home and I would be on computer most of the time. I think it's fear of change. There are times when I would think that change is good. It's nice doing something different. But there are times when I would lose interest, no motivation to do something different, to do something productive and I would try, at all cost, to avoid change because I am feeling comfortable with the way I am and how I am. I am still adjusting to the medication so the question would be when would it start working for me? I know the doctor said it may take 4 to 6 weeks to take in full effect of the medication. Maybe I'm impatient, I don't know. I just want to live my life."
s_17_969,I was acting silly with my daughter yesterday running around the house pretending to be a cheerleader (like I used to be) and was set back on the couch soon after. I get tired real fast
s_2890_292,"You Don't Do That To Family Grandma started to lose her mind as she aged, and Mother thought it would be wise to take her into our home. She thought it might slow the progression, or at least keep her comfortable until her mind was emptied of every last one of it's marbles. Grandma was always a strict, bitter, and admittedly terrifying woman. She was well respected, but also feared. No one dared stand up to her, even as she started insisting that her delusions and hallucinations were true. We went along with it, but we also anxiously awaited the day that the 90 year old would pass. Myself being nearly twenty five meant that I did the majority of the housework to pay my dues, and Grandma was strict about it. Dad's been gone my entire life, I had no other siblings, and an ectopic pregnancy ruined my chances at having my own family and tore apart my fragile relationship. These two women are all I've got, and I needed them when I was alone and my mind slunk into dark places. Living with my mother wasn't the most desirable thing, but since my loss I haven't been able to function at 100%. Mom could use the help anyways, living alone can be depressing. I had been back home for a month when Grandma had come to stay with us. She wasn't quite as crazy when she first got there, just constantly mumbling about voices. I wasn't ecstatic about housing and caring for a mad woman, but I figured it could be worse. I thought it would be something else to take my mind off of constant dark thoughts, but she ended up being a black hole. After a few weeks of staying with us her condition was becoming noticeably worse. Her mumbling turned to shouting, and she began insisting the things she saw and heard were real. We had to play along or risk facing a violent outburst. She'd throw anything close enough to grab, and it fucking hurt if you were in the way of whatever she was throwing. We were nearly two months into this hell when she got my mother across the chest with a plate. It cut her deeply, and she had to go to the hospital for stitches. Grandma had always been a bitter woman, but this illness was bringing it to new levels. Mom refused to tell anyone outside the family how she really got the injury, and you could tell the secret was eating her up inside. She followed the one most important rule: You don't do that to family. Which meant, you *never* admit to someone outside the family that someone inside did something wrong. It was a rule that had been heavily enforced for generations. After that incident the situation in the house got very tense, and it made me wish I could get my shit together enough to leave. I'd feel awful leaving my mother alone with Grandma though. Another month and things were intolerable. The house was a constant cascade of noises, TVs, radios, and loud uncomfortable voices filled any silence. Silence was no longer allowed. Partaking in the delusions meant more than just patting the old woman on the shoulder and saying, Yes, I hear it too. We had to help her block out the voices, or face her wrath. I honestly couldn't understand why my mother wouldn't just put her in a home. I'd asked her, and every time she gave the same reply, You don't do that to family. I can understand the sentiment, I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if I had a child who sent me away to die in a false paradise. Old age homes are depressing, I've never met someone with any happy stories about sending a family member to one. Now, Grandma would be a different case. She didn't really deserve the amount of kindness we afforded her, but it wasn't entirely her fault. Sure she was a bitch before she went crazy, but it wasn't nearly as bad. The constant noise was enough to drive you up the wall, and I ended up finally using my prescription for sleeping pills. Along with the antidepressants I'd already been taking they helped enough to bring living there to a level only slightly below intolerable. It was okay, at least I could sleep through the noise. Mom didn't get the luxury of taking pills to shut it out, though she tried. The sleeping pills didn't work well enough for her, and the blaring radio coming from Grandma's room kept her up nearly every night. I think her true breaking point was about a month and a half ago. We were sitting down for dinner together, both the tv and radio were screaming the news from the living room. I could tell she was agitated, but I didn't realize how much until she got up and unplugged everything. The house fell into a moment of silence before Grandma started screaming. Laura, Laura! Why are you letting them take me! * She shrieked, grasping her head in both hands. After another quiet moment she looked to me instead, Mary, sweet child, don't let her do this to me. God, make it stop! * MAKE IT STOP!* I recoiled as her voice raised, unsure of what to do. Grandma it's okay, please--
Shut the *fuck* up. Is it so hard to just have a minute of quiet? My mother cut me off with a glare. I was shocked, to say the least. I didn't understand why she was suddenly and so aggressively deciding to stop playing into Grandma's delusions. I didn't have time to ask her either, because that was the moment when a butter knife flew across the table. The heavy metal handle her hit her just above her temple, and the blood was immediate. She was pissed, but in a terrifyingly calm way. She touched her fingers to the wound, looked at the blood, and smiled. You fucking *bitch,* She said in a low voice, I care for you, take you into my home, put up with your bullshit, and when we don't play along for thirty seconds you hurt us? Grandma looked a little shocked but resumed her yelling, They're going to take me, they took my baby! Look how she disobeys me, she's handing me to the voices! Mother shook her head and walked away from the table, and I did the only thing I thought would help. I started a random conversation with Grandma, something to distract her from her screaming and give my mom a chance to calm down and relax. It wasn't very helpful, I wasn't loud enough to block out the false voices in Grandma's head. I ended up sitting her in front of the TV and putting the news back on at a disgustingly loud volume. I went to find my mom and ask her if she was okay. She was in the bathroom tending to her wound. Are you going to the hospital? Did you really turn that damn TV back on? She replied without looking at me. Um.. Yea. I figured it was better than the screaming..
I'm not going anywhere, someone will wonder why I've needed stitches twice in as many months. We don't talk about this kind of thing with other people. You don't do that to family. Oh, and stop making noise. I have a migraine and I'm going to lose it on someone if I hear another sound for the rest of the day. She pushed past me and walked away, leaving me conflicted. I spent the rest of the day trying to deal with the screaming, and when I could no longer take it I decided I needed to calm Grandma down. Mom had gotten so pissed off that she had moved the TV and radio from the living room into her own bedroom and closed herself in with them. There was only screaming to be heard in the house. I spent hours trying to talk Grandma out of it, but it only calmed her slightly. When mom finally came out of the room she looked exhausted. Didn't I tell you to shut up? She sighed. I felt bad for disobeying, but I didn't know how else to deal with it. You want tea Mary? Im gonna make us all some tea so we can forget about this stressful day. I nodded, wanting to avoid her freaking out again. We all sat and drank the tea, while Mom sang loudly to avoid the screaming. It was almost a peaceful moment. I checked the time after we finished and it was getting late, so I helped Grandma up the stairs and into bed. I turned on her bedside radio, and she was asleep within a few minutes. Relative peace at last. The day had exhausted me. I called a goodnight down the stairs to mom, and went into my own room. I couldn't immediately find my sleeping pills, but I was so exhausted that I didn't bother searching. I'd sleep fine without taking one. I slept better than I had in months, it was deep and peaceful and when I finally woke up I wished I could have stayed asleep forever. It was still dark, I was groggy and in a great amount of pain. I brought my hand to my face and I could feel that something was very, very wrong. I ran to the bathroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror, and my mouth bled as it attempted to open and vomit. I choked it down and cried silent tears. My mouth was sewn shut. Somehow through my shock I noticed an empty pill bottle in the sink, my sleeping pills. I had refilled the prescription only two days ago, meaning that nearly thirty pills had been used. I felt sick as I realized what my mother had done. I ran to Grandma's room next, and found her in the same mutilated state as I was. Only, she was also cold to the touch. I fought the urge to vomit again, and left the room. She either overdosed or asphyxiated and I wasn't trained to tell which was the case with her mouth sewn. I couldn't find my mother anywhere in the house, and when I pulled out my phone I realized that she could be anywhere right now. I had slept for nearly two days. No wonder I didn't wake up while being mutilated, I was nearly comatose. I wanted to call the police, but as I was about to dial I kicked myself internally. * You can't talk, stupid.* I walked my sorry ass to the nearest hospital, not wanting to traumatize anyone on the way. My car was missing, so I guess that's what mom used. The hospital staff nearly shit themselves when I walked into the emergency room, it was *almost* funny. This entire part if my journey is fairly boring, except for when they realized that behind my sewn lips I had no tongue. They replaced it, but I haven't learned how to speak again yet. I'm scared to talk ever again. The police came to question me about what happened, but I only wrote down that I couldn't remember. Obviously my mother was a suspect, they had found Grandma's body in her house. I know it seems messed up that I wouldn't directly admit what my mother did, but I have three very good reasons for that. She was already the only suspect. I was afraid she'd find me and punish me again for speaking when I shouldn't. You don't do that to family. [HF](<URL>)"
s_1765_701,"My insurance currently lets me pay $50 per month for my two psychiatric drugs which, uninsured, cost a total of $400. That's more than my rent and I can't afford it. Without these drugs my depression and suicidal ideation will return and I could quite literally die."
s_2035_262,"I feel so much better, I have more energy and I can breathe! Its been tough at times but so worth it!"
s_1404_500,"The only reason im always frustrated and stressed is because I cant get a girlfriend. PLEASE dont tell me to work on myself and be happy with myself before i would be ready for a relationship. IM ALREADY HAPPY WITH MYSELF. I have a hobby, I study, IM FINE. Except for having no girlfriend. It bothers me so much. I'm 21 and my hormones have been going crazy these years because i'm supposed to get a partner. I'm not a boy who is desperate for sex. Actually I don't even want sex. I just want someone to love and hold in my arms. But it's not possible. I'm too unattractive for dating apps and I'm too introvert and socially awkward for real life. There is no way for me to get dates. Don't tell me to improve my social skills. I have been working hard on it for years and my social skills still suck. It's just not for me."
s_1514_140,"Our Blind Spot [part four] [Part One](<URL>)
[Part Two](<URL>)
[Part Three](<URL>)
---
It took three months to get them to trust me. Three months spent in virtual isolation; three months spent eating one step better than garbage just to survive. I figured makeshift prisons run by Chinese rebels would hardly be luxurious, but those three months will haunt my sleep if I survive this. Until the day this struggle ends, there are far worse nightmares to faceand while awake. That Starbucks, that day, those seven Venti coffees; I broke something in myself three months ago while sitting at that table guzzling stimulant. Out the window and across the street I could see ramshackle ghettos, while on my side of the divide everything was clean, bright, and happy. Each coffee subtly changed that dynamic. I would say that the ideal level of caffeination for busy-bee workers is somewhere between half a Venti black coffee at minimum and two full ones at maximum. While in that range, every sip I took gradually shrank my awareness in a way only an experienced caffeine addict could notice. Creativity and thinking outside the box became slightly harder while focusing on specific mundane tasks became slightly easier. In that regard, I almost became more concerned with writing down my changing symptoms than with actually drinking the coffee. It took an act of will to force myself to proceed. I'd kicked caffeine for the first time in years, but now I'd given myself back to it, and my brain was very happy with the flood of energy. It wanted to enjoy the high; it did not want to keep drinking with the specific intent to make myself sick. Nevertheless, I began gulping more even as my pulse rose and my fingers began subtly shaking. The third full coffee brought the change in the world's tone to a noticeable level. The bright colors had faded in favor of greys and browns, and the street outside was dingy and cracked in small ways I had not noticed before. The ghetto across from me remained horrible; I watched a haggard mother hang laundry on a high rope strung between two rotting wooden spires. Each breath brought that surge of fire I recognized as the limit of caffeination, and I had to carefully regulate myself to keep my heart rate down. For now, I was still fine, but I was only at three of seven coffees. Taking a deep breath, I chugged the fourth. The tilt in my perceptions nearly made me slide from my seat. The world had not shifted physically, but my sense of myself within it certainly had. Looking around, I sighted for the first time bits of garbage, rust, and decay on my side of the divide. People walking on the streets didn't seem to notice; one stepped in what looked like dog excrement but continued walking without bothering to scrape it off. I watched three workers inside the Starbucks itself ignore a small pile of trash that customers kept stepping on. But still I was submerged in a long, deep, and slow river of complacency. My body was agitated, but my mind was full of excuses not to notice, mention, or otherwise regard these strange discrepancies. Downing the fifth coffee rapidly as a way of surprising myself and breaking through that submersion, I clutched the edges of control to stay centered. Each gasp brought oxygen, while each exhalation brought fuzziness at the edges of my vision. I began to feel claustrophobic and unsafe. Rusted corners and smelly bits of garbage made themselves prominent in my awareness; I slung my bag and grabbed my two remaining coffees and stumbled out onto the street. The sub-provincial city of Guangzhou no longer looked to me as all the others that I had visited. I could see character now, mostly in aged buildings off the main path, and the bright colors and cleanliness had been stripped away. This place was run down and industrial, and I had not seen it as such until my fifth coffee. The sixth filled me with very unpleasant internal heat. I'd come here ostensibly to investigate a claim that had caught my eye; I was within a block of that location, and wandered along my side of the street opposite the ghetto to investigate the site of the supposed accident. It was a simple alleyway, much like the one in Jerusalem, but this one held stacks of garbage and low pools of unidentifiable filth. I braved the muck to search the walls, and, this time, I was ready when I found the unknown invisible vines. Here goes nothing, indeed. I kept my eyes on the wall and downed my seventh and final coffee. The pain in my head became two directed blades moving through my forehead and temples. I winced, but kept my gaze forward. I needed to see this. If seven coffees didn't blow open the flaw in the lie, nothing would. Someone had pulled the wool over my eyes, and forcing it out of my system was the only way. Shivering horribly and fighting a body-wide surge of dangerous over-stimulation, I watched with triumph as patchwork lines began to weave themselves into existence before me. It was the same material that the doctor in Zimbabwe had found in Kudakwashe's throat. I knew it immediately. It ran along the walls like vines of ivy, but, as the doctor had said, it looked to be some sort of neural tissue. Somehow, it had the ability to hide itself from perception. This was what I'd stabbed into on that Zimbabwean rooftop, and this was what had made everyone around it scream and run at me to defend it. How had it done that? Did it generate some kind of neural field to blanket our senses? What *was* this stuff? Clenching my fists to keep a hold of myself against the tide of caffeine, I followed the neural vines higher and higher with my sight. They'd grown over this building, in the alley in Jerusalem, and high up in Zimbabwe. Where else might these spots of infection be growing? I stepped out of the fetid alley to follow its run further, but froze in horrified awe as I got my first unedited visual of the sub-city. There were two perceptions there; one, the faux clean clone, the other a monstrously overgrown hive. My vision flickered as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing: *a veritable jungle of hanging neural vines, conduits, and pillars had grown across the entire city.* Thick masses hung between high buildings; curving nerves spread out fractally along nearby streets. The shock and the caffeine combined were too much. I fell to my knees at the whim of a body-wide seizing vomit. Worse, the pain in my temples had become what felt like motion, and a writhing therein made me scream and grip myself to fight for sanity. Static blurred my sight, random voices shouted in my hearing, and two long worms of strange tissue burrowed out the sides of my eyes, fell to the dirty street, and shriveled up. Drops of blood fell straight down from my vision as I stared at what had just crawled out of my temples and died on the ground before me. The caffeine wracked me with pain, but I knew now that I'd done it: I'd poisoned myself hard enough that my perceptions had finally become clear. What the hell were they? Entities in their own right? Or just some form of connection to the previously invisible neural jungles growing all over the world? Had the human race evolved some sort of literal group hive mind, or were we under attack by something else? The madman. He'd written of this. He'd been intent on cutting the neural fibers out of my eyes directly. That's what he'd done to himself, and that was how he'd gained the ability to truly *see.* I'd chosen another route, but it had not been without its risks. I threw up twice more before losing consciousness on the sidewalk. Four hundred and fifteen milligrams of caffeine in a Venti black coffee, and I'd had seven. Five grams was a potentially lethal dose, and I'd had at least sixty percent of that. I descended into darkness with nothing but a small hope that my years as a coffee addict would see me through this. The first question I became aware of was simple. "" How did you do that?"" Several periods of blurred consciousness brought me to waking in a sealed underground parking lot that looked like it had never been finished. The man who had spoken was not present, but he soon visited with food and water. He asked again in perfect English, ""How did you do that?"" I shook with the after-effects of caffeine near-overdose, but managed to respond, ""Do what?"" He kicked me in the ribsnot too hard, just enough to show that he was seriousand I said, ""I'll tell you, just please clarify!"" He moved his wrinkled but hardened face closer and tapped my temple. "" Removed your blinders."" I winced at his touch before realizing the implications of his question. "" Wait, you're aware of them? Do you also see the world as it truly is?"" He gave me another sharp kick. "" I've tortured better men than you until they wished for death. Understand your position. I ask, you tell."" I nodded in acceptance. "" I, uh, took sixty percent of a lethal dose of caffeine."" His glare was sharp. "" How did you calculate a lethal dose? The same amount for others may kill them."" ""It was just a guess based on articles I've read,"" I protested, staving off another kick. "" I've been addicted to caffeine for years, so I may have withstood it better."" He pulled back. "" So her story was true. She watched you from our side of the border, and she said you drank coffee until you became violently ill."" I held up my hands to ward off the bright light that his change in position had cast upon me. "" Now a silhouette, he asked, ""And what did you see?"" ""Look,"" I told him, trying to think quickly. "" I don't think you and I are enemies. I've been pursued by crazy people, got my finger cut off, my ear sliced, some guy wanted to cut my eyesI have *no idea* what's going on, but I do think the human race is in serious trouble. There areGod, there's like some sort of infestation out thereit's everywhere! I think we're under attack!"" He gave a dark laugh and moved away, saying, ""You just saved your life, and you don't even know why."" A door slammed somewhere distant, and I was left alone in a poorly lit crumbled stone prison. I walked the length of my confinement for a few hours, finding a scattering of shitty fluorescent lights illuminating empty parking spots and incomplete stairwells. Some of these stairwells led up toward daylight very *very* high up, but nothing but sheer concrete and the occasional rotting foothold presented itself. They had no guards on this exit for a reason: the climb was suicide. An entire month passed before I received my next visitor. I was self-aware of the effects that solitary confinement was having on me, but this was no hallucination. The same man opened a door, but only his guest came inside; that creature that had once crawled out of my severed pinky finger now skittered into the room on bone-white blade-like legs. Ivory eyes watched me unblinking, and I heard its voice in my head again: *Are you done playing the fool?* There was no escape this time, but I still moved back a few steps. "" After a thought, I added, ""I understand what you meant now by my senses betraying me. I've seen it."" The question now is whether you are a double agent. It is exceedingly rare that a human being breaks free from the Entity on its own. Would you have us believe you are just that smart?* I looked past the Bonewalker toward the door where my human former interrogator stood. He seemed very uncomfortable with the creature's presence, and nodded for me to speak carefully. I finally said, ""A little smart, but mostly just way too addicted to caffeine."" It seemed to accept that answer. * You spoke of a man that tried to cut your eyes.* *Describe him.* I gave it the best description I could of the man with the wild glee and surgical knife, but I couldn't tell what it thought of my words. It left immediately, this time jumping into a small open wound on the man at the door's arm; he shivered, pulled a bandage over it, and closed the door. Was he a guard? Or someone higher level? If the crazy doctor was someone this group wanted, then I might have been regarded as a very important prisoner. Indeed, the quality of my given food rose, and guards came in to play cards with me and keep me company. I understood that this was both luxury for my information and a test of my true character; I made sure to be completely honest about every single thing they asked me. I had nothing to hide. I even told them about the breakup, and my hollow reactions to it. At the end of the second month, the Bonewalker returned. This time, I was in the open-topped stairwell standing in the rain, but it didn't seem to care about the falling liquid. * The guards seem to think you're not a liar.* I'd had plenty of time to craft my strategy. "" Tell me one thing. I assume the Entity is something related to the neural fibers growing all over the world. Are you opposed to it?"" The creature's ivory eyes gave no hint of connotation or elaboration. * ""Then that means we're on the same side,"" I told it, taking a risk. "" Regardless of whatever organization or power structure you've got control of."" *You would choose the more personable of two dooms?* it asked. * You will remain untreated, for it can sense the blood-bond. None of my humans can ever truly be a part of its society.* There was a chance I would come off as a double agent fishing for information, but I also genuinely wanted to know. "" How much do you control?"" *Thirty percent.* So the ghettos had been made terrifying in our perceptions on purpose to separate us from the opposition. "" Thirty percent of China, that's a sizable""
*Of the Earth,* it responded. A clicking followed, a sound I took to be laughter. * You're not a double agent. You're too full of yourself, like most humans. Know that you will be watched, and if you betray us, you will die in the manner you are most afraid of.* Could it see that? Could it see my fears? I gulped as it crawled away without another word. And what of being watched? Did it mean I was to be released? The third month was full of tension and confusion. Gone were the guards and the visits. Had I done something wrong? Finally, the man who had first interrogated me dragged me out the door and up a long set of stairs to release me into a moderately disheveled area that I might once have seen as ruined and horrible. After undoing a temporary pair of handcuffs, he told me, ""That doctor has a special interest in you. Let him find you, then bring him to us. He is very important to this fight."" I nodded, and accepted money and a folded set of clothes from him. ""And take a shower,"" he said as a final note of goodbye. "" I did reekbut there was wind to carry the smell away and a sun in the sky. I was free. Wandering the streets and watching the poor go about their lives the best they could with what they had on hand, I realized that life was precious. I'd been doing nothing with it since I'd been hollowed out by someone I'd loved, and yet here there were people that did not have the suits or the offices or the coffeepeople making do, raising kids, and having afternoon chats from window to window. This was the Bonewalker's territory, and it was not altogether bad. The divide between territories was stark. Neural masses hung from building to building directly across the final street, and I could see raised lines of parasitic flesh along the temples of passersby. My God, it hadn't been a caffeine nightmare! Seventy percent of the Earth had been overtaken by an infection of unknown proportions, and the other thirty percent held fast only under the vicious rule of the Bonewalker. Where was the human spirit in all this? Where was *our* faction? Eyes were upon me even thenfrom both sidesso I resolved to keep my counsel to myself. If there was to be one at all, I had to be the start of our faction. I'd figured this out myself, freed my own perceptions through risk and calculated daring, and I'd dodged the Bonewalker's control as well. I knew who my first true ally would be, too: the very man that creature wanted. Who are you, Doctor? What do you have that both these nightmares want? I've left enough keywords in this for you to find it, and I know you're obsessive enough to contact me despite the risk. I'm back in the States, and I have a suspicion you know where to find me. ---
[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)"
s_2338_1047,"Work is sucking what little life is left in me. I'll start this out by saying I'm not suicidal, nor have I ever been truly suicidal. To be honest, I have a pretty good life. I have a job with a major energy corporation, albeit a contract position. I got married a week and a half ago to a wonderful supportive man who adores me. We adopted a kitten a few weeks ago. But my fucking job. I loathe it. I'm basically a data entry drone. They're gradually giving me more responsibilities, but they haven't given any hints that I'll be offered a full time (salaried) position. I'm an incredibly efficient worker and I finish my work pretty quickly (unintentionally). When I finish my work, I'm sent home. I fucking hate it, because as a newlywed and someone with student loans, I CANT AFFORD TO BE SENT HOME. But I also can't slow down my work speed, I already have tried and realized I just can't. I don't want to go to a job where I have to interact with people. I want to work from home. I have incredible potential and know that I should be doing more with my life but by not getting an internship in college I royally screwed myself and am stuck at a soul-sucking job day in and day out, where my contract could end any day. Not to mention I have had migraines the past couple months, and have missed more work than I should. I got a talking to by my boss last week about it. But yesterday she decided to come in hacking up a lung and now I'm feeling feverish. It's just a shit ball rolling down shit hill and I just want to be out. I'm sure most of us know what the job market is like right now; it's nearly impossible to find a job with limited experience. This is my first professional job and I've only been there 3 1/2 months but I want something new. I don't know where I'm going with this... I just want a new job. I want to work from home. TL;DR: I'm too efficient at my job. I've been sick quite a bit recently and my boss just got me sick again, but I can't afford to miss work. I want a more rewarding job, or to work from home, but the job market sucks. My life is going well but I just feel like this job is sucking the life out of me."
s_616_24,"Just wanted to share my experience with depression Ill keep this short and sweet. I was diagnosed with depression 8 years ago. I only started referring to it as a disease recently. I was stupid enough to think how can negative thoughts, and emotions be a disease. Its not rocket science. I have a chemical imbalance in the brain that requires me to see a psychologist and take medications. It by no means is cured. My psychologist tends to compare it to diabetes (Ive gotten flak for the comparison), in which it never really goes away, Ive just gotta learn to manage it. I have a shitty attitude, and miserable demeanor. Not afraid to admit it. Ive done some terrible things in my life that I carry extreme guilt for. I would apologize to those Ive affected but they would prefer to never see me again, which I cant blame them. The bridges burned, the insults spewed, the disinterest in others, it can be rooted to one thing, depression. Its caused me to drive away every friend I have. Ive become a better person though, Ive completely dropped drugs and alcohol, and go to the gym everyday. Although Ive tainted my reputation as a person. Its hard for people to give me a second chance, in which I understand. Long story short, I hope someone can relate to this post. I only speak to two people a week, my psychologist, and trainer. Maybe Im desperate for friends idk. ANYWHO, thanks for your time Reddit."
s_452_1147,"Renting a room out of some lady's house over Craigslist. We didn't sign a contract. Do I still have to give 30 days notice? So my situation is this:
I rented a room from a lady over Craigslist. $200 move-in fee that I won't get back, plus $800 a month. Well, I paid her for the first month, and since then she got a boyfriend who is here pretty much every night. They have sex loudly, watch movies loudly, play music loudly, etc. until early in the morning. I haven't had a good night's sleep for a couple days in a row. Just last night they played music until 2 in the morning, then woke me up around 5 in the morning because of their noisy sex, and then then were up and about by 8 so I barely got any sleep and it's the freakin' weekend. One day she mixed her antidepressants with hard liquor and started acting creepy, her boyfriend argued with her, and then left the house. She then went CRAZY and started smashing beer bottles on the floor and yelling ""yeah!"". I was up in my room, wide awake in my bed hearing all those bottles smash downstairs. I didn't have dinner that night because I was too scared to go downstairs. So of course I want to move out. I already found a place. But do I have to give 30 days notice when there was no contract? Does that mean I have to pay another month's rent? We live in California by the way."
s_2338_943,"[Rant] Appetite is still ravenous I search ""appetite"" in /r/keto and all I get is everyone barely able to meet their calorie goals because their appetite is gone. I have PCOS, which my doctor tells me really sucks for appetite as it's usually more active in ladies with PCOS than those without. My doctor also fully supports my journey with keto. Mine's as ravenous as ever. And keto foods are so calorie dense. I've tried all the tricks: green tea, water, loads of greens, coconut oil, etc... I don't have cravings, though, I just am always hungry. I'm also tired all the time. Right now I'm trying eat around 1400 calories/day, but frequently go up to 1800 or 2000. Maybe 2 hours of working out every week, a mix of strength and walking on an incline. My usual day of meals is as follows:
*Breakfast*: almonds and string cheese (about 400 calories worth)
*Lunch*: Greek salad with EVOO and red wine vinegar + gyro meat or chicken
*Dinner*: 80/20 beef with vegetables (either as a taco salad or with cauliflower). *Snacks*: Handful of almonds, spoonful of almond butter, pan fried queso blanco, a few strawberries
I usually hit my macros pretty close (even accounting for the increased calories). I'm not losing weight. Lost the initial water weight, but nothing else, which I am attributing to my going above the calories I should have. Note: PCOS is linked to lowered BMR. My doctor told me BMR calculators probably won't be accurate for me and that I should have an RMR test done. This will happen as soon as I save up the money for one."
s_984_446,"This scene literally made me drop to my knees. It fucked me up real good. I honestly thought that time travel through the photo was a one time deal and I broke Chloe forever :(
Me too. I was so worried. And I felt guilty as shit."
s_2023_1263,"I think you are most happy doing those things because theyre forms of escapism that allow you to not think about reality and why life can be soul crushing. I understand what you mean about wasted potential. Its a vicious cycle. I was diagnosed with depression when I was in 6th grade. I was an honor student and had some of the best grades in my entire school. I loved drawing especially. Eventually as the depression grew, I went for years not doing anything but being sad. Then I would think back on the years and regret it, thinking imagine how great I would be now if I hadnt been depressed and the cycle would start over again. Now Im 32 and I still feel the same. Like Ive done nothing with my life and Im worthless. On top of that I have chronic illness which only makes me more depressed. I have tried every medication under the sun. Nothing seems to work. Anyway I hope that somehow you can find meaning and even a career that fulfills you. You seem like a smart person and I know Im just some internet stranger but I believe in you."
s_313_493,"Coming Out [NSFW] Like so much misfortune in my life, the seeds of these events were planted from my fathers words. Concise, if not eloquent, he always knew how to cut to my center. Did you fuck any girls, yet? Probably not. And to think, all that college poon, just wasted on a queer like you. He was drunk again. The fifth night in a row and every night since Id been home between college terms. The thing is, I wasnt a queer... at least I was pretty sure that I wasnt. For reasons unknown in my early (to not-so-early) years I just wasnt interested in sex. It hadnt really been a problem until high school and then it seemed like it was just getting worse since then. Now it was obvious that I was behind the times. It seemed like everyone I knew had at least been with someone, and it was becoming a source of anxiety. Ironically, my father's stream of vitriol was what prompted me to cement my sexual preferences once and for all. I resolved that once I got back to school, I would do it. Id have sex. After all, isnt getting to know yourself what college is supposed to be all about? If I was gay, I knew that I couldnt tell anyone. My own parents would kick me out of the house -- and that was if my father didnt try to strangle it out of me first. But I had to know. I normally spent a lot of my nights alone in my room but my two roommates, John and Macy were not those kind of people. Every weekend it seemed like they were setting out to a bar or an event or a party. They usually invited me as a polite formality, and I could see the surprise on their face when the first Friday night back, I accepted. I almost felt bad, until John started acting really excited to have me along. Whether or not he was pretending, I couldnt tell. We went to a house party at some friends of Macys. Her and John seemed to know everyone, and each of those people knew everyone as else, interconnected in a web of sort of reverse web that I couldnt penetrate. I tried not to hang on John and Macy, but my awkwardness was filling the house, and left me gasping for some fresh air. Outside, through the haze of Marlboros, Camels and Newports, is when I first saw *her*. She was beautiful. Cropped, white-blonde hair hung down along the flawless pale skin of her neck. Blue eyes as deep as the Pacific pierced through the smoke... *at me*. Its clich, but she was so perfect that my breath caught in my throat. The smoke burned until I choked and coughed it out. When I looked up through tear-streamed eyes, I saw her smile at me and then take a sip of beer from the bottle. John burst out of the house and grabbed onto my arm, taken with a sudden acute case of close-talking-itis. Were going to a strip club, come on! Im having fun here. Look, Macy mentioned that youre a virgin, and everybodys going to go for you to see your first pair. She told you that? Its not exactly the worlds best-kept secret, man. I looked for the girl, but she must have gone back inside. Fuck yeah! Ever been to one before? We packed at least a dozen people and their drinks into Johns tiny sedan. The club was named after a color. Turquoise or Magenta or something. It hardly matters, Im not writing a recommendation for the place anyway. I was just getting to the point of drunkenness where I wasnt afraid to speak my mind. This is just kind of sad, I said. Macy was the only one that heard. I mean... These people, theyre trapped here. Like they have to do this. What, you mean the girls? Yeah, the girls, but the guys too, guys who would come to a place like this. I mean, they realize that nothing is going to happen with these girls, right? Would you lighten up? No wonder youre a virgin. She turned around and grabbed a girl by the arm. How much for a lap dance? For you, honey? For my friend. First timer. Oh alright. She glanced at me through caked on makeup. I wondered how many kids she had. How you doing? Having fun tonight? Just sit back and relax. Only, I couldnt relax. Every time the disco lights spun, I could see the pimples on her lower back. She had horrible skin. Before she moved my hands away, Id felt what I was pretty sure was a C-section scar arcing across her sandpaper skin. Cigarette stained teeth gave her a smile like Gollums. I was repulsed, and pushed her off. As I stormed out of the bar, people called out to me, but it was drowned out by the music. John caught up with me outside. What the fuck was that, Alex? Thats not fun for me. Gross and its sad. I just dont want to do it anymore. Its not gross! Theyre boobs! Its just not for me. What are you, gay? Wait, are you serious? Youre a- His face showed fear. I remember that of all the things to be afraid of, that had to be the most ridiculous. Mercifully, he shut up. I dont know if he said anything else after that. I was around the corner. I felt the smile on my face before I realized what I was feeling. Only then, I worked my way back in my mind to what Id just done. Come out. My smile turned to the ugly kind you make just before you cry, and I got a lump in my throat. This was happening. Was I really gay? Well, I didnt know for sure. John probably thought I was now. He'd tell everyone. I thought about dad for a second. It made me feel afraid. It wasnt the first time that the distance of college to my home town had comforted me. But still, something scared me about... well... *myself*. They say that you fear what you dont know, but this just didnt work that way. I couldnt just know. There wasnt a blood test for sexuality. You can't just decide. This was something bigger than me and yet inside me. Thoughts and questions swirling in my head, I was sure of just one thing; I needed another fucking drink. All-American Pizza Companys neon sign bathed me in red, white and blue as I walked in. The front of the shop was the restaurant and in the back was a hole-in-the-wall bar that Id seen but never been inside. I ordered a long island iced tea and lit a smoke, and as I exhaled that first drag, there she was, swaying her hips as she strolled through the crowded, busy bar straight toward me. My names Alex, she said. My name is Alex. Thats fun. Ive never been with a guy named Alex before. *Oh fuck.* She sat next to me and stole my cigarette. Wanna do some shots? My memory is a blur after that. Disjointed scenes of a foreign taxi driver screaming Dont soil my seats! the feeling of her biting my lower lip with her front teeth, pulling me into her, sneaking through a dingy hallway into a tiny apartment, the only furniture a bed and a huge mirror, throwing up in a toilet, blood, razors on a nightstand, drips of red staining white sheets. And Alex had a penis. And I couldnt have cared less. She was perfect. I woke up the next morning laying on threadbare stained carpet. Sunlight shone through the windows and became tinted orange-brown by the fly strips hanging there. I found the bathroom on the other side of the empty kitchen. The sink didnt work, and drying blood covered the porcelain and the floor. I yakked again in the toilet. *What the fuck happened last night?* Lifting myself up from the position of prayer, I noticed a cut on my finger. An image of her sucking blood from the cut jumped into my mind. Otherwise unhurt, but more than a little unsettled, I searched the apartment for my clothes. Alexs thin, naked frame didnt stir as I tried to avoid the spots in the floor that creaked loudly. There were cuts on her arms. I felt her pulse just to make sure she was alive, but I wasnt ready to wake her up and face what Id done last night. I needed some time to process it. As I knelt next to the bed, something shiny under her pillow caught my eye. I found the door and left. The next day an unknown number called and texted my phone. You didnt say goodbye. Lets meet up today. Didnt you have a good time? Every time I got one, I started typing a response, but something stopped me from sending any of them. Something wasnt right about Alex. I was afraid of them. Whatever it was that scared me about her didnt stop me from calling them the next weekend after most of a bottle of Jack Daniels. And the next weekend, and the next. Id come home with scratches on my back, my lips and tongue sore and chapped. I was worn out from doing things that I didnt remember. Every time Id wake up in her shit hole apartment and sneak out without waking her up. This became my new routine. I met another girl. Her name was Ashley and she was in my Shakespeare class, though we only realized that after wed talked a few times online. We took things slow. Partly because thats what felt right, but also to keep her from finding the marks that appeared on my body every weekend. Things were going well until she asked me to meet her friends over the weekend for pizza. You can probably guess the place. I paused for a moment in the glow of the red, white and blue sign. Everything alright? Ashley asked. Feeling a little sick, thats all. Well, do you need to go home? I need desperately to leave, to run away and figure myself out. I need to know what the fuck is going on.* Lets go in. Her friends were great. They were mostly from her church groups and were almost as awkward as me. After the second round of beers, I got up to use the bathroom that was shared with the bar. For some reason that I couldnt place, just as I opened the door, I could picture Alex behind it, waiting for me. The bathroom was empty, but my phone buzzed with a text. Whos the new girl? I had yet to respond to one of Alexs texts, but this was it. I went into the stall and sat down, and as I was typing I got this back. Does she want to join in? I hit send. I cant see you anymore. I sighed and rolled my shoulders, letting some of the pent-up tension out of them. Why did I still feel like she was going to jump out at me? Its not over. Youve got my blood on your hands, Alex. The bathroom smelled like her apartment had when Id woken up that first night. A smell that tasted like pennies, it permeated the bathroom. The smell of blood. Dont text or call anymore. I typed Sorry at the end, but erased it. * Send*
I went back and joined Ashley and her friends. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I silenced it. We went bowling and had more drinks. This was a healthy relationship, and I felt better and better about leaving Alex behind. By the time we got back to my place, I think we both knew where the night was going. I invited her over for Netflix. Not even a specific movie. It was around midnight. It looked like John and Macy had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television, and in drunken loud whispers we giggled and crept by them to my room. I opened the door for Ashley, and she got about halfway in before her body went rigid. She made a sound like shed been plunged into ice water. At first I didnt see anything. The only light was from the glowing moon coming through the blinds, casting slanting rays. Almost invisible against the sheets, then I saw her eyes first. And she was holding a gun. Ashley ran. I was frozen in place. She didnt know about us, I take it? No, you come in, Alex. Oh, you can come anywhere you want, she writhed around on the bed, arching her back seductively, drawing the muzzle of the gun down her ribs like ivory piano keys. Shut the door, hon. Wouldnt want your roommates to hear us. I didnt move. Her playful smile dropped away. Her voice was low, and demanding, it scared the shit out of me. Shut the fucking door. *Would Ashley call the police?* I wondered. * Or would she think that I was expecting to find a mad gun-wielding transsexual in my bed? How long would it take if she did call?* I entered the room. *Click*
Alex, dont you want me anymore? I managed to get out through my dry, quivering lips. That hurts, Alex, it really does. I even brought something special for you tonight, you know. She picked up something from the floor next to the bed that I hadnt seen before. Some kind of... machine? I didnt know what it was. It was made of metal, and was a collection of joints and screws and levers. A-Alex, I stammered, What is that? Well I know just what you like, Alex. How to get you off. But theres always been something between us. She giggled. A penis between us. I thought that I heard sirens. Alex was assembling the clamps, twisting the wingnuts and tightening everything around her genitals. The police vehicle continued on and the whine of its sirens faded. Not for me. Ready for the big show? She pulled two long levers. Black blood shot out across the room. Undiscernable connecting tissue -- ligaments, blood vessels, tubes full of every bodily fluid imaginable -- the whole glob was pulled out onto the foot of the bed. The smell was fucking incredible. Animal and clinical at the same time. Something woke inside me. She lifted a slender hand, gloved in blood and waved me forward. The whole time she hadnt made a sound, but as I started to thrust, she began to scream. John and Macy knocked on the door. I heard John ask Are you okay in there? After a few minutes, they went away."
s_215_54,"Hey I'm going through the same thing, I don't really have advice but I just want to let you know you're not alone here and I can kind of understand what you're going through. I finished 70 straight weeks of chemo in January and have been suffering from terrible depression ever since. Can't work for all the same reasons. I feel exactly the same, I don't enjoy anything anymore and I'm too tired to do anything. Hope things will get better for you though."
s_1768_313,"Overwhelmed, recurring panic attacks, too tired to get my head round the steps I need to take to get 'better'. I have had GAD for the last 25 years, since I was a child. Recently it has developed into/incorporated panic disorder too. Nine weeks ago, my grandfather was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He passed away one week ago. Since we heard the diagnoses, I have been suffering from recurring panic attacks, been struggling day to day and especially at night with anxiety, and lack of sleep is making it very hard to focus on my usual rescue 'remedies'. My Dr prescribed lorazepam, and upped my citalopram dose six weeks ago. He doesn't want me on the lorazepam for long, but, although the panic attacks have decreased in frequency, they are still happening often and the lorazepam us the only thing I have found so far that works quickly and helps. My main trigger at the moment is panicking that my children are going to catch Noro, and then we will all get it. At the moment, one of them even looking a little off color is sending me straight into a panic attack. I struggle with not being in control and this is one area that I do not cope with the uncertainty and unpredictability of everything. I feel that I am alone in all situations, even though I have a great husband who would manage even if I wasn't there. I am flying back to the UK from the US this week for the funeral, and I am going over all the things that could go wrong. It doesn't really help that in the last month, we have had two deaths in the family, my husband has had to go overseas twice, we have been organizing Thanksgiving, then my daughters birthday, Xmas, and two lots of funeral arrangements. I feel so overwhelmed, but guilty if I ask for help when I am able to let the control go a little. Sorry for the rambling, I just kind of typed as it came into my head."
s_2415_600,Ask what's not wrong. I could write a novel on the bad stuff. I don't think I can tell everything. But I am feeling miserable. Will play a game now.
s_785_12,"Beauty is subjective to a point. It's been well-documented that all cultures believe facial symmetry=beauty. You have no idea what my personality is. You're arguing at me through the perception that I fit into the 'niceguy' category; I don't because I don't blame women for my problems as I don't blame myself. It just is the way it is. You can tell who's a FA type right off the bat and usually you nope out before they get clingy/obsessive or downright nasty. That's what you tell yourself, then? It's more likely that you mark those you deem unattractive as FA/trp/neckbeards/niceguys and then make excuses for the character flaws of better looking men. You're arguing from the assumption that you and other people in relationships have 'good' personalities, which is utter bullshit. The fact of the matter is that people make concessions for the flaws they find in attractive people over the flaws they find in unattractive people. Don't fool yourself. No one gives a shit about your 'personality'; they like you because you fit into a range of attractiveness determined by society. You really think you'd be such a 'good' person if you looked as I do?"
s_1725_630,"Aliens 'n' Ice Cream **Laura:** No one believes me. **Dr. Sterling:** Just tell me one more time, Laura. **Laura:** Fine. **Dr. Sterling:** Is it okay if we record this session? **Laura:** No, fuck you. **Dr. Sterling:** Laura...
**Laura:** Last time. Then I'm leaving. **Dr. Sterling:** Thank you. **Dr. Sterling:** Patient Name - Laura Michaels. Occupation - unemployed. Session Number - twelve of fifteen as mandated by the State Rehabilitation Program. Go ahead, Laura. Tell me about what happened the day at the park. **Laura:** We were sitting on the park bench - the same one we've spent so much time on over the past couple years. The bigger one with no armbars and room for three people. It was 12:30 in the afternoon. **Dr. Sterling:** Are you sure that was the exact time? **Laura:** I don't fucking know! Jesus Christ, you people. Everything's a blur. I'm doing the best that I can. It was lunch time, okay? I know because Mr. Greg Hamilton was out in the park getting his daily hotdog and barbeque chips. Will you let me talk? Bobby and I were meeting at the bench to talk about what to do next. We were enjoying some ice cream cones that he got us because of how stressful everything had been. I was especially out of it that day and he was trying to cheer me up. For as horrible of a life he's put me through that man has a damn good heart. We had to make a decision that day. **Dr. Sterling:** About-
**Laura:** Yeah. **Dr. Sterling:** We're talking about-
Yes, that decision. I remember telling Bobby that I couldn't stay long...but he showed up with those cones and I couldn't resist his charm. Superman - my favorite. It was hot. I was eating the ice cream pretty fast. It was melting down my hands. It couldn't have been more than five minutes when Bobby broke the silence with his words:
'You know we have to do it.' Time stopped. My hands squeezed the cone so hard it cracked and fractured. All I could do was sit there licking time by. Everything was so...off, but so right. For a moment, I didn't hate myself anymore. I was okay. Then I started seeing the green dots and everything got so bright that I couldn't see. That's the last thing I remember from the park. **Dr. Sterling:** That's the last memory you can recall? **Laura:** Yes. **Dr. Sterling:** Are you sure? **Laura:** Well, no. It...there wasn't anything else that happened at the park. **Dr. Sterling:** Would you like some tea? **Laura:** Yeah, I'd love some. ---
That wasn't all I remembered - it was simply all I was willing to say to Dr. Sterling again. The recording I just transcribed for you was probably the fifth or sixth time I was forced to recount my story. Don't get me wrong, she was an excellent, compassionate woman but even she was skeptical of what happened to me. To the State, I was another junkie who was forced to get clean or go to jail. I believe that impacted her ability to fully trust me. Especially with some of the other heroin addicts I would see in the waiting room. I don't hold any ill will towards her. What happened was so traumatic that I was able to kick heroin with minimal effort - aside from the mandated state program I was forced to go through after my hospital stay. I don't wish it on anyone, but I hope that by sharing my experiences it can create awareness about what the drug can bring you down to. ---
When I was able to see again, I was laying on a cold table staring back at my reflection on a metallic ceiling. I couldn't move at first but I wasn't tied down or anything. It felt like sleep paralysis, if you've ever been through that. No matter how much I struggled to move my body - even wiggle a toe - nothing would happen. I don't remember being scared at all, but when I try hard to remember waking up on that table I run into a mental block. I clearly remember what I saw, and how my body felt. But my emotions and thoughts...I feel like they are being held back. Even to this day. The memory is *right* there but I can't reach it. Almost as if parts of my experience have been censored. Maybe because there were so many bright, blurry lights I wasn't able to focus on my feelings and I just don't have a memory of them. All I can say for certain is that I was on a table because I remember my reflection. I don't have any clue how much time passed. It could have been hours or days. Possibly longer. Possibly shorter. At some point a tall, lanky figure came and injected me in the arm with some sort of serum that burned as it coursed through my veins. I wanted to scream and cry and thrash until I could get off of the table, but my body was motionless. More time passed. My next clear memory is of my legs in stirrups, and the worst pain I've ever felt destroying my abdomen, sucking out my insides. I couldn't see anything except for the lights, but I could feel dozens of thin, warm fingers poking and prodding at every inch of my body. Resonated throughout the area around me. A chant from a murderous cult? Questions from a group of scientists? I don't know. The word haunts my dreams every night. If I even hear the word I break down. The medication can't even protect me from it. I suddenly gained my ability to move as I felt the remaining pieces of my insides being torn away from me. The tall, lanky man stood over me and injected more serum into my neck, causing my world to spin until it went silent and black. I awoke in a hospital bed. So, so many doctors were around me, joined by men and women in suits and two police officers. They had hours of questions for me. The official documentation by the police says that I overdosed on heroin in the park, and Bobby took me to one of those ""back-alley"" doctors to have our baby removed. I don't know if I believe that. They took my baby to the sky for their experiments. They know it. It doesn't matter now. The law is the law. Bobby has been in prison for years. They still haven't found my baby or the alleged doctor. I don't think they ever will. I don't know exactly what happened to me. What I do know is that heroin brought me to that point. It cost me my child. I never got the chance to see his face because a drug was controlling my life and my actions. Stay away from it. Help others get away from it. Don't be me. I would give anything to see my baby. Years might have passed, but I won't forget his name."
s_46_1801,"ELI5: Why do I fall asleep while I'm sitting on the couch. Once I move to bed I can't fall asleep for another hour or two. This happens to me often at lest few time per week. It doesn't really matter what em I doing. Watching TV, working on laptop sometimes even talking to other people. EDIT: It is usually only for few minutes and only while siting down."
s_996_384,"My health went to shit back in 2008 and I have had inner-ear problems since then. Over the course of several years I lost hope of ever feeling better and stopped doing most things I enjoyed. Now I'm substantially better because I know how to control the problem (took all but 5 years), but I'm afraid to return to what I once loved. I do not want to have to relearn something that once came to me naturally. I also can't run without feeling sick. Running always helped me relieve stress. It hasn't been an option for several years now."
s_782_6,"On recurring, severe depression and the will to live Live is a journey that always has an end regardless of how we live, and it's one most people enjoy or simply wouldn't like to end. However, what is life without the joy of living? What is living not for you but to avoid hurting your family or because another being depends on you and your love, say a child or a pet? That's a long torture that seems to have no end and it consumes you slowly but steadily if you don't find anything that makes you enjoy being there, and that's the problem; sometimes there isn't anything, not a light awaiting for you, not a thing that gives you a speck of happiness but only momentary joy that fades as soon as it ends. Non-depressed people sometimes say ""happiness is a choice"" and ""it's the little things that together form happiness"", but no. For some of us Happiness is not a choice but an uphill struggle for something seemingly unattainable and those little things mean nothing because they fade away. Therapy and different medications and procedures have helped thousands to overcome and get over their depression, but it's but frustrating when years pass, you try to give your best despite barely having energy for days in a row and despite feeling miserable inside when awake and despite wearing a ""mask"" in front of other people and when you adhere to prescribed drugs that make some things even worse just to try and hit the root cause but nothing improves inside. I could give you my personal elaborate and detailed sob-story, but it doesn't really matter here because one of my root caused for my depression is that I have no desire of living, I don't want to be here and keep feeling pain, both physical and psychological. "" Life has no meaning"" sounds like an overused cliche, but it's parcially true. I don't want to keep living because my life has no purpose anymore. I'm tired of trying to give it a meaning and I'm fed up. Some suicide attempts left mw crying qfter all the pain and once, the thought of my mother just at the other side of the door and she waking me up cheerfully the next morning, but again, living for others can only go so fqr, and this is the breaking point where the point of not caring anymore if I can get rid of this pain is becoming stronger and coming closer again. I feel like an ungrateful brat. I know lots of people have gone through worse things and are doing better, but I really don't know what to do anymore except carrying on pretending and waiting"
s_2456_821,"I listen to Nickelback
I watch My Little Pony
Dogs Cats
And one more for kicks. I don't like Sex"
s_1749_152,"I think I'm at my lowest point with my pain. Everything feels gross and hopeless. There's just nothing. My tramadol stopped working so I stopped taking. I wasn't on it for very long but it is definitely effecting me coming out of my system. I had weird dreams last night when I finally managed to sleep for a couple hours. Now I still feel all gross about it. My mom is being awful and it is the worst timing. I just want to go home back to my life. I want to try Lyrica and maybe that will help. I will even try some of the woo woo herbal shit. But I am done trying to get to the bottom of this. My ship is capsizing and I am not going to watch my life sink to the bottom so I can go try and find some mythical mermaid medical treatment. I am done with my health ruining my life. Fuck my health. There is no need for it if I can't have a life anyway. I'm 23 and don't have time for this shit. I need to go back home to my partner and the dogs. I need my life back. I don't care if I have to work covered in braces. I haven't always made the best decisions in life, but I at least had decisions to make and usually knew which ones were right. Now I don't even really have any options or they all seem like bad ones. This is MY life. I demand the right to fuck it up on my own or have enough control to actually make it work. I'm sick of doctors making it about my depression. Of course I am fucking depressed! Look at this shit! I shouldn't be here! If I can find meds that will take the edge off I am just going to suck it up and go back to work. It doesn't matter anymore. I already know what I have to lose and my health is the least of them."
s_2023_645,Wishing I didnt feel like shit all the time so I could be productive and helpful. I feel useless sometimes like my life is just suffering.
s_2415_550,"I just can't move on. Long story short I just can't move on. I had a rough childhood and to this day I am unable to move on. I am 19 and male. I see people around me having fun, going out with their gf/bf/friends etc., building new relationships and having a grand time. Here I am stuck in my mind. Lost motivation, lost my will to live. I don't enjoy anything. I am bitter and that drives people away. Apparently, no one wants a bitter guy in their life. No one gives a toss about me. I don't care. I myself don't give a fuck about me so it doesn't matter if someone else does. I don't know if I will ever be able to get out of this. It's 3:45 AM and I am typing this stuff right now because I can't sleep! I get ridiculed for sleeping too much while in reality I usually sleep in the morning and never at night. Why the fuck people don't understand that my father was an alcoholic douche who used to claim he was a ""nice"" and ""innocent"" guy?I have went through abuse and no one gives a single fuck! They just want me to pretend I am happy because they want only ""happy people"" in their life. At this point I have no friends and no one who genuinely cares. Please give me some advice!"
s_2184_270,"I've tried so many different types of therapy it's utterly ridiculous. I do take my mental health issues seriously but I'm worse than I have ever been. I used to think about suicide a lot but know I'd never do it but now it makes me feel calmer when I think about jumping. I can't function anymore.. I can barely get myself to class. My moods are all over the place. I hate myself.. My personality, how I look, everything. Im trying to hold out for as long as I can but I feel like this is a hole I truly will never get myself out of. My life will continue being a cycle of me lying to everyone and saying I'm doing better to not worry them and putting on the same mask I do everyday just to function while I'm crumbling inside."
s_994_438,I can focus on more than one thing at a time.
s_706_197,"The one pictured above, is it me or the lens? I can only get things into focus if they are extremely close, is it my fault?"
s_3075_67,"It's getting really bad again and I don't know what to do anymore I just feel like I hit a bad episode, like I can't get out of bed, do any basic hygiene, clean my bathroom that should of been clean a bit ago, go anywhere outside the house, intrusive thoughts Is at worst and I become very compulsive easily. I literally breakdown to everything like I cried because my cat left the room that's all it took, I have been extremely irritable towards people and I break down after crying because I feel bad for yelling. It's just been really rough and the world at the moment doesn't make anything better, my boyfriend works all day and i can't even keep a job because of my stupid episodes. I feel terrible he works all day and he comes home to house not clean like I just want to help but this takes everything from me... I want to scream and he is trying his best to understand but my mind is telling me I'm a mad partner I hate it all."
s_993_56,I was getting quite irritable . Feelings extreme annoyance to rage on little things. I understand what you are going through. Sometimes I would shout at my parents and regret it. It's tough when you know you are reacting irrationally.
s_363_0,"The Man Who Lives Under Our House (Part 3) Here's Part 1 incase you missed it. <URL>
Here is Part 2
<URL> So I fought back as much as I could. First I started by prepping the house to be ready to be painted at any moment (I.e. Removing everything from the wall and scooted all furniture away from the walls). Than with a small bottle of holy water and dispersed it around our home. As soon as I finished I began painting the walls white. It is one of the best ways to expelled unwanted evil from a home. It only works if you paint every wall with a fresh coat of white paint. It only works however if you get every single part of the wall. If you were to miss a small section it would render all that you've done useless. It was a trick my Grandfather taught me that I have performed before. I was very thorough on my paint job. I made sure that every single spot on the wall was covered. I was very happy with myself. I knew for sure I had won and we would finally be at peace. Little did I know I missed a very key portion on my paint job, in our living room we have a closet. And inside that closet is a wall that is an exterior wall as well, allowing this evil man under our house a wide open door. We had peace for about 8 months. It was the best 8 months of my life. We were no longer dreading returning home, in fact some days there would be no other place Id rather be. I returned back to school while keeping my job in the Air Force. Up until about a week ago life was great. Thats when everything came to a screeching halt. My girlfriends son had woke up one morning around 5 am and felt that it would be funny to put a pillow over his Grandmothers face (girlfriends mom) and see how long he can hold it there for. My girlfriend and I woke up to a blood curdling scream as her son came running in crying. He told us that his grandmother had thrown him from her bed. Thats when we noticed a faint gasp for air coming from the room. My girlfriends mom was struggling to catch her breath as she told us what had happened. Apparently as my girlfriends son had held the pillow over her face he was saying that the man does not want her in his room anymore. We asked why he would do a thing like that and he said that he didnt want to but the man made him. I felt ice run through my veins as soon as I heard that. He was back. I failed and he is very angry now. That night no one got any sleep, from the exception of my girlfriends son. Her mother had locked her door because she couldnt trust her own grandson anymore. One night had broken our happy family. Fast forward to last week. My girlfriend, her son, and I were on our way to the store to get some groceries. Her son had fallen asleep and it was nice and quiet in the car. We were too tired to talk, we just wanted quite. All of the sudden my girlfriends son had woken up and said in the most monotone voice a 6 year old could have I used to be named Charlie and I was a very bad person, now I am living in my house again. We pulled over as quickly as possible and woke her son up. He had no recognition of what was said and as soon as we said the name Charlie he began to cry and say that is the man that moved my bed and hurt my grandma. My girlfriend has not been the same since. She is completely shelled off from the world and nothing seems to phase her. Every day since we hear things in the house fall off from where it used to sit. Things as small as the remote falling off the counter to dishes and silverware falling out of the sink. About 3 hours ago I woke up to a knock on the door. Three loud thumps. I slowly crept down the stairs and I once again heard another 3 loud thumps. As I got to the front door I peered through the peep hole and saw nothing. So I opened the door all of the way and once again saw nothing. Then from behind I heard another loud thumps, but it was coming from the closet. As I opened it my girlfriends son was standing in there. And he said Charlie is home and he doesnt want you in there! I screamed for my girlfriend and ran upstairs with her son. I woke her up and grabbed my keys and we ran out of Charlies house. As we were leaving all of the water in the house began to run. The sinks, the showers, even the water from the refrigerator was running. And it was hot. Hotter than I have ever been able to make it before. Everywhere the water was running was steaming. Even the refrigerator had been steaming. We begged for her mother to come with us. But it was locked, we were banging on the door yelling her name, but she never answered. I couldnt with all my strength break that door down. It would not bug an inch. We ran to the car and took off. My girlfriends son had been screaming the whole time at the top of his lungs. Were could we go at a time like this, with a child who could not stop screaming. I went to the only place I felt could help me. My grandfathers house. He is the only person I felt that could help us at a time like this. They only lived about 30 minutes from our house, and it was the worse car ride of my life. For 30 minutes straight my girlfriends son screamed at the top of his lungs. My ears were burning and I felt like the ride would never end. As we reached my grandfathers house he came running outside as my girlfriend cried and begged him to help her son. As my grandfather lifted her son out of the car, the screaming immediately stopped. He brought her son into his room and asked if my grandmother and himself could be with him alone for a few hours and asked us to wait in the living room. Its almost been three hours since weve heard anything from them. And cannot get ahold of my girlfriends mother. We are sitting in a dimly lit living room. I feel dead on the inside. I hope my grandfather can help and that its not too late. I will post an update as soon as I can."
s_2661_87,Im still questioning my decision
s_1933_187,"I'm working on my self-confidence right now, and what I've been doing is challenging my negative thoughts. It's helping, slowly but surely. Try to think of reasonable explanations for why the thought isn't true, or in some cases, how you can fix it."
s_2331_447,"I always keep a reserve of energy for myself. Its important to make sure youre good, before looking after others. Youll be much better for it, and your friends and family who are seeking assistance will too. If I know I am not up to being a shoulder for someone to cry on, I will just tell them straight up. In a nice way, something like, Im really sorry to hear that and I would usually be available to listen but Im not in that headspace at the moment. Will you be okay if I touch base in a couple of days?"
s_1160_75,"I can relate to this so much. Not with romantic relationships, but with friendships. For example, i have a friend that i knew something wasn't right from the start. We would chat, like how friends do but every time after we chatted I will feel really sad and influenced. Not just sad, in particularly, but a mix of weird negative feelings that I have no idea where they came from till now. But i ignored. I tolerated and just ""let it be"". I also pretended that I am totally okay with her and that she's a really nice friend. I wrote letters to her, remembered her birthday and other important things about her and always gave the most heartwarming wishes I could. I bought presents for her too. It's been almost a year since we knew each other now, and i still have that bad feeling every time after we chatted. I tried to sort out this problem with her, but she got mad and offended really quickly that i didn't dare to say anything more and just decided to continue to tolerate. This didn't happen with just one friend. I took her as an example because she's the one who influenced me the most. Every friend just seem fake to me. I can't find a somewhat ""true"" friend that i can just not need to hide things from. Does anyone else has a similar experience? And what can be the solution of this?"
s_2402_479,"I swear this is the 3rd time in 24 hours I've cried and it makes me feel weak I don't know why this is, but I'm hating it. I had a really good time away with my boyfriend, might of gotten a bit clingy when he had to leave to get home, but otherwise since then I haven't been that good. I cut myself again ,tried looking for pain killers but couldn't find them, and I've hit my arm with a hammer and the back of my head on the wall. I feel like I'm spriling hard today and I can't take it. I just really want to die and I feel terrible."
s_1278_99,"What is following me? I thought this was over. I wasn't going to post my story because I thought my life was back to normal. That was before last night. When weird things started happening, my step father had just been diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. The only people in my house were my mom, my step dad, my boyfriend, and me. My step father couldn't go to the bathroom himself, and if my mom had to go, she would call me into the living room to sit with him. He was never unattended. Furthermore, my room was right beside the bathroom. I could hear anyone coming in or out. Let me also explain about my step father, he was a police officer and where I live, police have to get extensive physicals every year to stay on the force. He also frequently got strep, so he had blood work done every time he had it due to the hospital visit. We had just moved into an older house, and I always felt uneasy in the house. There was just something off about it. Less than a year after we move, my step dad who has always been given a clean bill of health was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. They said it had to have been there for at least 6-7 years. We had no clue where it had come from. I immediately thought of A Haunting in Connecticut, how the boy got sicker after moving into an old house. How else would I explain my step father getting so sick so fast? When the weird stuff started happening to me, my boyfriend isn't living with me. I have always been deathly afraid of the dark. I've slept with my tv on for as long as I can remember. I can't stand the sounds houses make at night, so the sound drowns it out and provides light. I sleeping pretty peacefully when it was disturbed by a dream that wouldn't be scary to normal people. It was an older lady glaring at me. I've never seen this lady, but I had a deep feeling that she was evil and wanted to cause me harm. I woke up with a jolt and was overwhelmed with the same feeling I had in the dream. I can't explain how I know, but I knew it was her. Then I quickly noticed my tv was off. My mom wouldn't turn my tv off because she knows I need it. I got a horrible feeling of dread through me. I quickly grabbed my remote to get the tv back on. Needless to say, I didn't go back to sleep that night. About a month and a half later, I was still getting that terrified feeling throughout my house occasionally, but I was starting I get used to it because my boyfriend started staying with me. We had been laying in bed all day because it was one of my few days off, so I would know if anyone had gone to the bathroom recently. When I got up to use the bathroom, I could hear water running, which was very odd because no one had been in there. It wasn't possible. When I opened the bathroom door, our bathroom was flooded because someone (something?) had turned our sink on full blast. I quickly called out to my mom who confirmed my suspicions. No one had been to the bathroom. As we cleaned the mess, my mom was comforting me, and I let her reason calm me, quickly turning away any thoughts of paranormal. Sadly, the next part in my story was the worst time in my life. My step father had just been taken to the hospital, and the family had been called in. We were living at the hospital basically. My mom made me go to my grandmother's to get some rest, so my friend Molly drove me and My friend Robin to our respective houses. On the way to Robin's, Molly slammed the brakes and asked if we had seen something run I front of the car. Neither of us had, so we just assumed it was an animal because we live in a mountainous area. Animals weren't uncommon. Nothing happened the rest of the ride, until Molly dropped me off at the end of my drive way. As I was walking toward my house, I saw the figure of a man duck behind a car, so I took off at a sprint to get to the safety of home. When I turned around, I saw a black cat walking toward me from where I had just seen the man. I got into the house and locked the door. I texted Molly what had happened. She replied, ""I don't want to scare you anymore, but I thought it was a black cat that I saw driving Robin home..."" After a short conversation, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep. The next day, I went to my house to clean up some. I must explain that I lived in a high class neighborhood, so there were no stray animals around. When I got to my house, I saw a black cat sitting beside the door. After that, I quickly cleaned up because I didn't want to be in that house any longer. My step father died that night. For a couple months after my step father died, everything was calm, so I chocked everything that had happened as stress. Then one morning as I was getting ready for class, I was brushing my teeth before I showered. I went to turn the water off, but I didn't turn the handle all the way, so I had to reach and turn the handle further. I got in the shower, but when I got out. The water was turned on full blast. After that, I started getting ready faster in the mornings, so I didn't have to be in the house. One morning, my mom was still home, so I decided to take my time getting ready. When I was in the shower, I could clearly hear my step father saying hello to me. I didn't get the terrified feeling I normally got. Instead I was filled with joy. The last thing that happened in that house before we moved happened around 3 am. I was working late shift, so it was common that I would be cooking at these times. As I was waiting on the oven to heat up, the coffee pot came on without anyone touching it. Now, some might think it could have been set like an alarm, but no one in my house drinks coffee. It was my step father's, so I went to investigate and the coffee pot wasn't even plugged in. Finally, this brings me to the present. My mother went to the beach, but I stayed home because I had to work. One night, I heard growling coming from my living room, but both dogs were in bed with me. There was nothing in the house to make that sound. I closed my bedroom door and laid in bed, until I couldn't stay awake anymore. I was ecstatic when Mom came home the next day. Finally, last night, the thing that made me post my story. I was going to get ready for work, so I walked through the house to get a towel. When I came back through, my mom asked what I was doing. I told her going to shower for work. She looked at me confused and said she thought I had already showered. She heard it running. My mom and I are the only ones in the house. I went to the bathroom to check out her claim. Nothing was out of place, no running water. I still didn't shower that night. Please, tell me what is following my family and why it only affects me. [Edit] Grammar and puncheon due to posting from phone."
s_1846_53,"Afraid to go to the hospital, Afraid to go to work, One has to happen. This will be a messy post, I'm sure. Running on very little sleep the past few days. Where to start.. Maybe a little about myself. I'm a 24 year old female. Friday night my significant other decided to break off our relationship. Needless to say this was upsetting, though it wasn't really the problem. The problem is I've been using the relationship as a sort of bandage to cover up numerous insecurities and phobias. Now that its gone, there is nothing holding back the floodgates in my head. Word vomit is spinning in circles around my mind and driving me crazy for lack of a better term. What seems to help quiet the noise in my head is interacting with other people and pacing or doing another activity that requires use of my, at the moment, very limited supply of energy. Friday night, or Saturday morning I should probably say, I couldn't get to sleep until around 5 am when I passed out from pure exhaustion. I woke up a little under two hours later after a terrible nightmare and couldn't go back to sleep. I spent the rest of the morning quietly pacing the house and shaking from the effort until my roommate woke up and we could start our day. Now its 2 am on Sunday and I'm so very tired that its making me sick. I'm hungry too but I'm fairly sure if I eat I'll throw up. I seem to have terrible nightmares when I'm stressed and after last night I'm not really eager to do a repeat. But I desperately need to sleep. When I lay down I can't stop the spiral of thoughts from crashing down on me so I started just kind of rocking back and forth and petting my dog, trying really hard to not think about anything at all. It occurs to me now that its highly doubtful I can function like this at work on Monday, having what will probably be a total of only 4 hours of sleep in a 72 ish hour period. I feel like my body is already trying to shut down. But if I don't go to work then I will need a damn good excuse. At this point, the only thing I can come up with is going to admit myself to the hospital. Which might not be such a bad idea given my mental state, but I'm absolutely terrified of the place. I had to spend a week in the psychiatric ward about 4 years ago and over half that week was not voluntary. The doctors were not friendly and most of the other patients either annoyed or scared me. Participating in the group activities was very difficult because I'm extremely shy, which made me seem even more difficult to the doctors, who subsequently liked me even less. I could tell I was frustrating them because all I wanted to do was sleep and pace around my room until they fixed my medication to their liking and I could leave. They didn't think fixing my medication was good enough so I asked to leave at which point I was told that I would then be held involuntarily and would end up needing a court order to leave and spend a minimum of 30 days there if I didn't calm down. At that point I became extremely claustrophobic and panicked and spent a day refusing to talk to anyone. They chalked this behavior up to a bad reaction to a new medication they had just tried to switch me to and switch me to something else. Things did get a little better from there but the facility was still very daunting. The sheets were not comfortable to sleep on and having someone come in to my room every hour wore on my nerves to the point where I broke a few times and told them to get out. I try very hard to always be polite and not throw fits like that but to me this hospital environment was truly terrible and I wanted desperately to go home the whole time. Most of the books I asked to be brought I wasn't even allowed to read because they were science fiction and the doctors said that they would encourage some delusions. I'm not anxious to go back to this hospital for any kind of mental condition. The thought absolutely terrifies me. So does the thought of losing my job and not being able to pay my bills. I believe if I do admit myself to the hospital, my job cannot legally fire me and likely wouldn't because they do sincerely seem to like me. I've only been at this place for 6 months and already had to miss two days from two separate episodes of strep throat. I hate missing work. I want them to see me as reliable. I'm only a temp and not hired on permanently yet so I'm worried too that if the hospital kept me too long, they could let me go anyways simply because I am only there on a temp basis right now and they don't need a valid reason. I could try and go to work Monday, but I'm already cringing at the thought. I'm shaking from lack of sleep and trying to exert to much energy today. and I'm physically sick from not being able to eat enough. I feel like throwing up and have a terrible headache from crying and having a little panic attack (at least I think that's what it was, I've never had one of those before). I work in a cubicle doing data entry. The work is very repetitive and will allow me too much time to dwell on things that I really don't need to be thinking about right now. Which will likely just make me cry and then panic because I can't stop crying and I'd be too near people that they might hear. Talking about my diminished mental state with any of my coworkers is not something I want to do. I do not want to seem mentally unfit in anyway to my boss. I cannot afford to lose this job. So I am caught between a rock and a very hard place. Going to the hospital would be terrifying and I don't want to do that. Going to work in this state is also equally undesirable. I am not sure what to do."
s_984_874,"I recently played the finale, and I went back to school for the first time since then today. I couldn't really focus on anything. ^then ^again ^it's ^not ^like ^we're ^doing ^anything ^important ^or ^remotely ^interesting"
s_1831_20,"Everything I know is going upside down. I can't take it anymore. I've been dealing with this crap for a while now, and I've been fairly silent about it until now. Flashback to 8th grade, May 2013. I had everything going for me. I was in high classes for the majority of my courses, just got accepted into the National Junior Honor Society, plenty of friends, a plan for the future, and a loving family. I had some procrastination issues, but otherwise I was an A/B student. Then I got the news that my grandma was sent to the hospital, and the outcome was, most likely, death. I took it badly, shaking and crying. My grandma and grandpa were like a second home for me, I went there after school and did work there, played with their dogs, and had a lot of good memories over there. The idea of not seeing her anymore was devastating, and I was using it to push myself further to make her proud. I finished the year with a high GPA, got into high classes for my freshman year and continued to do things I loved. A slight addiction to Nintendo and the (then-upcoming) Smash Bros. for Wii U helped push through and give me something to look forward to. As the time went by, my grandma went from near-death to surviving. A few amputations on her leg later, she bounced from nursing home to nursing home. Grandpa, meanwhile, stayed at their house with the dogs, taking care of it and such, a lot more carefree and ""fun"" than usual. We'd visit him often, mostly over the weekends, and we'd also go to the nursing home every other night or so to see my grandma. While she remained the person I loved, I saw a more bitter side to her. She was constantly whining about how she's trapped here, and I always felt guilty, for no real reason. I'd led to her getting injuries when I was little, but it wasn't what she was struggling with then. Time went by, little by little, soon freshman year was almost over. I had finished with decent grades, as was expected, and had made a lot of new friends, alongside signing up for AP European History and such. Then came the phone call that changed my life. I was sitting at home, sick from school, both parents at work and my little brother at school. I got a call from my grandma, still in her nursing home, about two weeks from her release back home to resume normal life. She was in tears, asking for my mom. When I told her they were at work, she began to cry harder. I had no idea what was happening, and had to ask what had happened. Apparently, my grandpa had just called her. He was divorcing her. Before I could call my mom, grandpa called. He ranted about how he was doing ""the right thing"" and that everything was going to be better now. What a fucking liar. After having to call both mom and dad to explain what was happening, I couldn't do anything but sit there and cry. I was freaking out, I didn't know what to do. Once they got home and settled me down, my mom made the decision to help my grandma move into her house, and stay with her for a few weeks to help get her back into where she used to be. My sole mission was to keep my little brother out of the action, and ensure he wasn't affected by any of the bullcrap that was happening. Yet, there was a huge part of me that was trying to fix things. The family was falling apart, and people were constantly yelling and freaking out. I was left in the middle, trying to solve things that I now know was impossible. As time passed, my brother and I (and our dog) moved in with mom and grandma, as weeks became about 2 months. We'd stay there for a while until grandma was capable of living on her own. Nurse visits, trips to the hospital, screaming phone arguments, everything was just guilting me even more. I became more involved online through Smashboards (a Smash Bros. forum), made friends there, got really high in the ranks and became part of a group of ""the best of the best"". People really liked me there, it was an escape from the life I was beginning to fear. Fanfictions, video games, developing video games, speculating them, I was engulfed in this world and slowly leaving my own. Truths began to unravel. My grandpa had been cheating on my grandma since my mom got pregnant with me. Trips to the gym, attempts to ""become healthier"" were all a ruse to impress this other woman. We found porn, condoms, lube, the whole nine yards in the house. Soon, we went from a 2-week stay to the entire summer, with our bus routes picking us up at my grandma's place. I started our sophomore year pretty well, with the exception of AP Euro, which I couldn't focus in. Managed a 3.0 GPA by end of first semester. Home life, on the other hand, was terrible. Constant fights, dealing with grandpa's shit, the constant barking of her dogs, who went from being adorable playmates to terrorizing little shits, etc. At one point, my grandpa tried to take us to court and get custody over me and my brother, as my parents were ""incapable and horrible at raising us"". Now, sophomore year is nearly over. I am failing nearly all of my classes. I've been diagnosed with clinical depression, and I'm taking 20mg of anti-depressants each night. I can't concentrate, and my addiction to Smash Bros. and it's world has become destructive. I've stopped caring about things, my future, my friends, nothing but trying to escape the real world. Each night, I'm doing plenty of chores, taking care of all three dogs, taking care of dinner occasionally, sometimes trying to do schoolwork and spending the rest of the time on Imgur, Skype and Reddit, browsing for no true reason. My mom is smoking a pack a day, and, when she's not working, is laying in bed feeling sick. My grandma is wheeling around, being demanding and yelling at us about stupid crap that doesn't matter. She attempted to stab my mother with a fork because my grandma took a burger from us and tried to feed it to the dogs, and when my mom tried to stop her, my grandma yelled that ""she's trying to help the only ones that matter to her."" My brother is remaining oblivious to most of it, thankfully, but is glued to his Kindle and spends most of the time avoiding his work, making me do it. Dad's at work and only sees us occasionally, and that's driving him mad, and grandpa's with his significant other, doing what he pleases and being cheap on us. I've contemplated suicide once or twice, but I've never acted on it because I know it will only cause more pain to my family. I'm nearly at the point of giving up. I can't do anything anymore without causing someone trouble. None of my friends really try to help, and my family's attempts to help me have failed. I'm becoming violent, and beginning to obsess over stupid things like those little Nintendo amiibo figures. My life is a mess, and I have no way of escape anymore. Collecting and buying the figures gives me moments of false happiness, as does playing video games. My family is constantly fighting, and I can't do anything to fix it. I just can't do anything right, and I'm done with it. I don't know what to do with myself anymore."
s_1738_368,"It's just crummy. No opportunities to move up. I make $11.50 an hour and it's been the same for the last three years. I have a college degree but I am the only officer on my team that has one so I already feel a bit out of place. Maybe I should go back for engineering (28 years old). My main beef with it is that it is too boring. Not enough to do. Not enough socialization (isolation) which actually fucks with you after a while. Bad hours too. I work two 12 hour shifts on the weekends and it always makes me feel extreme fatigue. I work overnights as well. Other than that, it's the easiest job in the world. It gets boring checking the same doors, doing the same patrols over and over again. It's boring and not glamorous. There's no thrill in it and for someone already struggling with depressive disorder it's become a major drag at this point. So I recently quit and I don't think I'm ever going back. They said I was a good employee. I guess that helps but it doesn't make me feel any better really."
s_1404_74,Am I suicidal? Cant find a clear definition Hating life for many years and I desire to be dead though I have no plans of suicide
s_1201_307,Kill myself
s_577_923,"Nintendo, please just say it out loud that Brewster isn't coming already. I am sad waiting."
s_2606_371,"I think it's good seeing someone about it. Sometimes I get stuck in circles like being sucked down a whirlpool and it is like a hand reaching down and pulling me out of it. I hope you find it helpful too. I don't think I will ever be 'cured' but I hope to live a full life anyway. I don't need to be happy all the time, sadness is a part of life, but I don't want to be miserable all the time. How do I connect with Eeyore? I wouldn't mind. I should sleep too. :) Btw, it means a lot that you took the time to reply. It's my birthday today and now I don't feel alone. :)"
s_2908_76,"Forever Alone I currently live with my 19 year old niece and her fiance, and I find this incredibly sad. I can't even be grownup enough to keep a job, work for my degree, or keep my car running to allow myself a chance at living on my own. Instead, I have to live with my niece, and this is her first time living outside of her parents' house. I work now, but it's part-time. My vehicle is making strange noises. Meanwhile, I have no friends nearby to do anything. I usually am broke or too scared to go out and meet people. Plus, nobody is interested in me dating-wise. I'm gay and overweight, which is a huge no-no in both society and the gay community. There are guys interested in me but I am too intense, usually act desperate. I'm thinking of killing myself. I probably won't, most likely won't, but I'm so tired from the stress and worry and feeling worthless."
s_2035_67,Good job holding on today. I cried today too. I understand the frustration. Im proud of u
s_2326_622,"i hope youre right it just hurts so much. i hate myself now. i have no drive, no motivation. im back where i used to be in the physical world but nothing is the same. it feels almost like my brain is a ghost town? i dont know. i tried explaining this all to my friends and they dont seem to care. they were all happy with quarantine but i dont think ill ever be the way i was"
s_683_112,Aaaaand i hate myself
s_258_109,"Im tired of being alone and think I should die If I died tomorrow, the only two people who could say they knew me would be my mom and my boyfriend. I wish I could make friends ; I wish I had someone to talk to .I havent had a social circle or a single friend since I was 19- Im fucking 26 now and have spent the last 7-8 years without anyone to hang out with or talk to asides from my mom and the dude Ive been with for 10 years. Idk, I have an eating disorder which really became my lifes obsession and fucked up how I interact with people. At 18, I start ditching friends because I couldnt eat around them anymore, began thinking all people do is eat when they hang out and gradually I stopped caring about socializing in general. But now fast forward 8 years later, and Ive become a fucking ghost. I feel lifeless and worthless and dont know why Im alive. Maybe some would ask whats my boyfriends role in all this but I cant say- idk what supportive would even mean given that he has BPD. He helps me but he has a social life; he has friends and enjoys meeting new people- unlike me who feels overwhelmed around more than 2 people at a time. And now when he hangs out at night, I feel like hes only proving how much of a lifeless and worthless thing I am. Im not fucking controlling or attention seeking, I just cant understand how Im supposed continue living being this alone. How long could someone go without any friends ? I wish I could just talk to people but its so hard, its so hard for me to even be interested in a conversation. I am fucking dead. Im sorry for the rant but Im too tired of waking up every day. Theres no point ."
s_12_2,"An Unsupportive Mother..??? Hey everyone, LTR,FTP and all that, on mobile. Im going to start this off with a little background; itll be two weeks ago this coming Monday that I had a surgical abortion (no, I did not want to- who really does ? but I am 100% pro choice, and given the fact that it was an accident, the result of a casual fling and I didnt even like the guy that much- best decision for me, yadda yadda). My friends who knew and my mother have been very supportive of my decision (father not so much, but hes old and crazy so I dont care- stories for another time). Or so I thought. Last Monday (a week post-procedure), I was at my mothers house for dinner. We were discussing the situation, my lack of side effects, how relieved I was and all that. NOW, just because Im relieved does not mean I am happy. I am feeling very lonely, and angry (she knows) that the father gets to go about pretending it didnt happen, no effects on him, etc. I was telling her my feelings on this when she throws out this gem; Well, you know I dont believe in abortion, but I support- Perhaps my reaction was childish, but I was so hurt that I didnt even let her finish. I pushed my chair back and said I am going home now. She argued against it, saying I didnt understand what she meant, how she meant it, etc. But how could I have misinterpreted that? Everyone is allowed their opinions, of course. Im not begrudging her that. But to say that to your DAUGHTER who had just gone through this rather traumatizing experience a week earlier, I thought it rather thoughtless. I immediately called a cab and went to wait in the lobby. I dont see how she can say she doesnt believe in abortion at all, but truly supports me . While I was waiting for the cab she texted me ; I didn't mean anything against your decision. You just don't understand where I'm coming from when I say that. I was actually greatly relieved by you decision. I replied Shut the fuck up, I do not want to talk to you. I dont give a flying eff what you meant. Now a couple hours later I felt really horrible for cursing her out. I never speak to her that way, ever, since she has such a terrible time with my younger sister. I texted and apologized for cursing her out, but made it clear how much she hurt me and how why she said was thoughtless and ill-timed, etc. She didnt reply til the next day when she said I cant deal with this right now. I replied That is selfish. You are the one who hurt my feelings by saying something extremely insensitive. If you werent my mother and said that my reaction wouldve probably been a hell of lot worse. And now you are trying to punish me by refusing to talk to me. That really helps the situation. ( Yes I know my reactions were not mature, and I feel bad for that, but at the time I just felt so sad and angry that one of the only people who I thought was a solid support system appeared to not be as truthful with that as she originally claimed) Then she cane back to me with this I don't want to hurt you anymore. I feel so bad. But just need time to get over what I did. I think I got my point across that what she said hurt my feelings, but am I wrong to think that that response is rug sweeping? I didnt reply to that and then last night she texts me asking if I still want to go to an uncles retirement party. I ask what time and said okay. But then the more I thought of it I got angry that the first thing she said to me on almost three days was to ask if I wanted to still go to the party. No genuine apology. So I said Know what, I dont know if I feel up to going with you and (sister) tomorrow. the first thing you say to me in three days after refusing to speak to me, even though you were the one to upset me after speaking to me in the way you did, is to ask if Im still going to that party? That feels like rug-sweeping. That really wasnt what you shouldve said first. I want a sincere apology fully admitting you were in the wrong, and I havent gotten it. Until I do, I dont want to come around. Im sorry if that comes across mean, but its how I feel, and my feelings are valid. I do not think the intent was there to hurt my feelings, of course I dont think youd ever do that on purpose. That doesnt take away the fact that it did. Im over it now but I want a proper apology. No reply yet as I sent it from work on a night shift. I am willing to take constructive criticism on how I should handle this from here. Thoughts on how I am handling it and how my mother is handling it. I know I shouldve thought before my initial responses, and kept my cool, but I did not. I know that wasnt the right way to handle it, that I shouldve waited til I cooled down. I cant take that aspect back now, though. I apologize if this is all over the place. Im internally struggling right now and just needed to vent to unbiased third parties. Edit: just incase anyone was wondering, I did copy and paste the texts in to this post. None of it was paraphrasing. I wouldve posted imgur links but Ive never really posted anything like that before, and its also 530 am here and so Im too tired to learn that atm"
s_2958_25,"I don't have aspergers or adhd, but the symptoms caused by PTSD are very similar to those diagnoses. My parents weren't abusive, (though my mother could be emotionally I suppose) but they are serious professional types and were very emotionally neglectful. My family moved around a lot and I was left with a series of unstable babysitters, and was bullied severely by other kids. I started dissociating and dealing with that by just distracting myself with hobbies and pop culture. I had really deep knowledge in things like history and literature from a young age because I used those things to occupy myself from strong emotions and dissociation. These interests might have looked like ""autistic interests"", but they weren't, they were some mix of stress and being above average intelligence. I had anger problems and seriously over reacted to things through my preteen/early teen years, which definitly could have been mistaken for the ""meltdowns"" people with aspergers have. I had problems with concentration, but that was probably a mix of dissociation and stress. Blank stares and not being able to identify your own emotions are common symptoms for PTSD and Aspergers. All these things made it difficult for me to build relationships with other kids growing up. Not being in touch with my own emotions, dissociation, poor self-image, chronic escapism, anxiety and depression are all things I have to deal with because of my PTSD."
s_369_1244,"If something bad happens to me, it is likely to in some way be my fault"
s_2377_15,I feel like I cant let myself be sad a lot even though I know it would be good for me to let it out
s_2257_110,"Multiple issues including OCD,ADHD,Bipolar and BPD? First of all: I am a university student on weekends and I am doing a full time job on weekdays. I am in my mid twenties. I still live with my parents and I don't own any vehicle of my own. The usual length of the university degree I am following is 4 years, and this is my 6th year, because I still have failed subjects and I am trying to retake them and graduate as soon as possible. The job I work on does not suit me, I mean I am bored and I seldom feel interested in the work I do. Why do I still hang around in the job? It pays me (considerably lower than the usual pay but it still pays something) and I want to be independent of my parents. They have paid for my university degree too, and I feel like I should take care of my expenses by myself. I am scared that I'd be a burnout, because I am bored to death of everything in my life. I feel that I have more than one mental health issue: anxiety, depression most likely, and OCD, ADHD(or ADD) and possibly Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. Also, I believe I am addicted to porn and social media and junk food. Let me explain the rationale behind my conclusions. Anxiety and depression: Pretty sure, because I often am nervous when carrying out even the simplest tasks and interacting with others (even my family members), and I love my comfort zones like my bed and my room and I feel uneasy whenever I have to leave them. I feel overwhelmed among crowds and I tend to avoid crowded places. It's kinda funny, because I have a thing for singing, and it usually requires performing in front of a crowd. I have done it very few times, and needless to say, I felt very anxious and hard to perform. I cannot handle pressure, especially when there are deadlines. Though I think this is related to ADHD as well. I think I have depression because I am sad most of the time. It's just I don't see many reasons to be happy about in my life right now. I tend to overthink even the smallest and silliest things, and then the end goal is feeling distraught. I spend a lot of time on Social media or daydreaming or sleeping because I feel bored by my university work and office work. I lack enthusiasm to do even the daily tasks like taking a shower or brushing teeth. OCD : I have a habit of repetition of things, washing my hands a lot and checking out if the door is locked immediately after I've locked the door, I feel the need of organizing trivial things. When I see my room unorganized, it really bugs me. So I think this conclusion is pretty justified. I have an acne issue on my skin and I cannot stop myself from picking on scabs and I believe OCD is one of the reasons that I cannot get rid of acne. ADHD or ADD : This one I recently got to know. I have issues in focusing and attention. I cannot concentrate on projects and have trouble sitting in one place for long. if a tas requires a lot of organizing, I spend a lot of time getting ready for that and sometimes try to avoid it altogether. I get easily distracted by surroundings and sometimes my own thoughts. I often doze off in group conversations, this has become a big problem because this happens a lot in office video calls and I don't remember what topics were discussed during the call. I suck at time management and prioritizing my work. I can be forgetful. Bipolar : I have rapid mood swings; one second I'm happy and the next I'm not. I get irritated easily, for simple to no reasons. Sometimes I am really energized up and sometimes I'm lethargic. Sometimes I can talk with someone else for more than one hour and sometimes I don't feel like talking at all. BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) : I feel like either I have more than one personality or I have none whatsoever. I find my interests vary from time to time: for example sometimes I feel like I love football, and sometimes I don't find it very exciting. I have different kinds of thoughts and feelings and they can change rather quickly. So are my interests. I feel like a lot of debate going inside my head on different topics. Maybe this isn't actually BPD. A few interesting self-observations: I have had suicidal thoughts before, and I have acted on them once and failed. I still get them from time to time. I sometimes feel like I am not afraid of death anymore (I used to be scared of death all the time), as long as the way of dying is painless and quick, it's just I have stopped worrying about afterlife. Main reason I am still staying here is that I have a responsibility to my family and I have to take care of them, otherwise I would have actually turned this off long ago. I have seen this thing called cycles when expressing depression, which I haven't really experienced. It's like my whole life recently has been one big singular cycle which never ends. Social media addiction : I use WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram and Reddit and I spend a lot of time surfing through them and I cannot control it. Porn addiction : I usually watch porn and masturbate at least once a day and I feel like it's affecting my sleep cycle. My sleep cycle is in disarray. Junk food : Perhaps this is stress eating. I cannot go by myself for a few hours without having a snack or some junk food or a drink (Non alcoholic). I find it incredibly difficult to tackle with 1 of them, because something else from the above list can intervene and make it harder. I once met a psychologist or a psychiatrist and I tried to explain the whole thing to him, but he dismissed my claims and I felt really really hurt after that. I mean I have already paid, why couldn't he listen to me? Because of that, and for obvious anxiety reasons, I find it hard to actually meet a psychiatrist again. So, if you made it to the end, props to you. What do you think?"
s_2434_538,"Ive been suppressing my tics for the past 5 hours and Im so overwhelmed and tired Hi, so my mom wants my sleep schedule to get back on track, and she gets angry at me when Im awake in the morning as well. I tried to stay up longer past 3 pm yesterday but I got way too tired and fell asleep until 11 pm and now I cant get any sleep since Im not tired and my tics want to come out, but I cant let them since my mom will be angry. I dont know what to do besides wait until she leaves for work at 7-8 am. Im so exhausted and Im definitely going to have a tic attack once Im free to let out my tics alone."
s_1808_2,"I'm constantly trying to find new things or exciting things. Many things which used to be fun are not and I constantly feel bored I've done some thinking as to why I may feel depressed, and one thing that stood out is the fact that I'm always looking for new things in my life to fill some kind of hole or need
this has become destructive though, as I will eat a lot just for the sake of eating because it feels good and different from feeling g depressed, or I'll just by random crap just because it is new
and the this gs I used to like to do, like programming or reading, I just don't find as fun anymore
I'm not sure if this is just a part of depression or if its entirely something different. life feels so unfulfilling and rather boring, and I just keep trying to fill the emptyness with food and useless junk, and I feel jealousy towards those I know who get to live an exciting life and experiencing new experiences I wish I was able to
I'm not sure what exactly to do"
s_1609_47,"No one sees what I'm going through. Not even my therapist. I started going to therapy again recently. We talk about my relationship with my family and everything that I used to, but something is different. I think I've become too aware of what is wrong with me and what is bothering me that I'm covering it up too well. My problem is that I hate myself a lot of the time. I think I'm not good at anything and everyone would be better off if I wasn't around. I'm not suicidal like I was last time I went to therapy, but I feel like I'm suffering in total, deafening silence. Now my therapist can't even see it because I'm too afraid to open up. I don't know what to do anymore."
s_2434_551,"I feel unsafe Hi, so Im 16 biologically but my actual age is a mix of different younger ages. Ive been going through a lot these past few years and months especially with my mom. My mom is a huge narcissist and it doesnt help with my age dysphoria. Im just a child, but she doesnt care about me at all so I feel so worthless and useless. I have a tic attack, and she doesnt even care or ask me if Im okay. I want to leave therapy, but she gets upset and puts herself into the equation when its just my personal choice to not go to therapy anymore. She yells at me and us and blames us for her working at her job when its not our fault. She says shell leave me and us, and she calls us ungrateful and treats me and us like a burden. Im so sick of living with her, and I dont even have a dad since he left me at a very young age. Im not being taken care of and hugged and Im so upset. She doesnt even care about me anymore. I seriously want to cry...sorry for venting, but I need some comfort please"
s_1514_635,"Our Final Acts [Part 6] [Part 1](<URL>)
[Part 2](<URL>)
[Part 3](<URL>)
[Part 4](<URL>)
[Part 5](<URL>)
""Conn, do you think this is really going to work?"" Taking one more scan of the forested ridge and shattered multi-colored sky, I lowered my rifle. I turned to the version of Noah that had spoken. He'd scrawled *1408* on his emerald breastplate with a black marker. Behind me, two long columns of Noahs continually flowed past each other on their way into and out of a very strange canyon, duplicating themselves and many of the weapons and tools we'd retrieved from one of Cristina's long-secured stashes. "" Depends on how long we can stay here,"" I told Noah-1408. "" I don't like the lack of threats and people. It's eerie."" Noah-1138 overheard us. "" Yes, the first time we were here, some spider-like predator was feasting on the duplicates that came out later than the originals."" ""I thought neither are truly the original? That they're both the same?"" ""Well, feasting on the ones that came out later than the first ones, then."" In truth, the whole business of quantum duplication made me uncomfortable. Which ones were real? Which ones were fake? If they were *all* real, with no discernible difference, well - who got to live the original life? Stepping a bit further down the ridge to get away from the growing crowds of Noahs, I returned my eyes to the oddly quiet trees. Overhead, numerous patches of color drifted across the sky. Some were unsafe simply of their own accord; a certain dark purple slice still had me tense. The Noahs, who had all been immune somehow, had had to tie me and Cristina down to keep us from clawing our own eyes out. She'd known ahead of time and told them what to do. For that, and for a great many other reasons, I considered her the greatest woman in the world. But none of the other threats she'd warned us about had materialized. This crazily lit and empty world sat very near the edge of the Shield, but none of the expected threats were present. The silent waiting was worse than actually fighting horrible monsters. I saw her coming up the ridge before she saw me. Excited, but well-trained, I remained at my post until she arrived. Her brown hair had grown longer since our exile - her first, and my second - and it whipped idly in the apathetic but constant breeze. My smile lifted some of her lately constant grimness. She turned her face away and laughed. "" Stop looking at me like that."" ""Like what?"" I asked, my grin growing wider. "" Oh wow, it's Cristina Thompson, destroyer and savior of worlds! I wonder if I can get an autograph."" She put on a mock deadly serious expression and lowered her voice. "" My autographs might blow up your planet."" ""Wow, what would a date do, then, if just autographs already rock my world?"" Her fake seriousness cracked. I wiggled my eyebrows. she said with another laugh, pushing me. I was about to say something further, but I felt thousands of eyes on us. The Noahs could all sense emotion, and the two of us were a weird bundle of the most extreme opposites. I coughed and straightened my military pose. "" How was the scouting run?"" ""There's nothing out there,"" she replied, focused once more. "" A few people still running power plants, dams, that sort of thing. They have no information about the bigger picture. Valiant fools."" She glanced past me. "" How's the army building coming?"" ""Up to two-thousand and forty-eight supremely equipped Noahs,"" I reported. "" In a few hours, we'll be up to four-thousand and ninety-six. By tomorrow, twice that again."" She turned her head, as if listening to a distant voice. All of the Noahs around us fixated on her. I knew it was bad. "" What's up?"" Her high cheeks went pale. "" We'll have to go with the two thousand we have."" She met my gaze, a rare vulnerability clear in her eyes. "" It's happening."" So Ward Shaw had telepathically updated her on the situation, and the final collapse was imminent. Studying the environment around us, with its calm forests and broken sky, I frowned. "" Why is this place fine?"" ""I don't know,"" she said, her tone soft and distant. "" The shattered walls may be diverting pressure elsewhere, but we can't be sure. Keep it in your head as a puzzle piece."" There was no need for her to inform the Noahs; they could feel her intent. "" Let's head out. Everyone has their missions."" Sticking close to her, I followed her back down the ridge to a pulsating crack in reality between two trees. Noahs Two through Two-Hundred followed us, the first squad of ten. The other nine had their own destinations, but we would all have to work together once we reached them. I had no doubt the teams would accomplish their journeys; they were naturally immune to mental attacks by virtue of being Noahs, and equipped with gemstone weapons that would deal horrific death to any physical threats. Cristina had only had the one set of stolen armor and a single weapon, but that peculiar canyon had doubled our Noahs and gear each subsequent few hours. I could tell that the sheer *time* it had cost us had weighed hard on her. Ward Shaw had continually sent her updates about the slaughter of millions at the main Shield generator, but our geometric growth here had required us to stay back and wait. By the time we'd had enough strength to matter, GLORWOC had already infected the battlefield, and the tragedy had expanded exponentially. Now our plan to help without the Council's approval had become a backup Hail Mary. If we could reach every backup generator in each Amber World, we could coordinate them to sustain the Shield by themselves. Each Amber World, too, had cracked open under the final stages of the Crushing Fist. Thanks to that mixed blessing, we could get inside them. That meant there was still a chance. I kept my head down as we stumbled through the raving inbetweens. The ground, to me, looked like white hospital floor tiles. I supposed part of me would always be sitting there in that hallway, on that bench, waiting. I wondered what Cristina saw, but I respected the pain on her face. The Noahs were very verbal about the horrible slog they were supposedly wading through. They all saw the same thing, and reported it as glimmering dust that pulled at them like tar. That was the same thing Noah Two had seen on his way to this world with us, and I had to feel bad for them. The walk was almost easy for me - other than the sadness, of course. We emerged into a shaking forest underneath a gloomy blue sky that ran dark with weird splotches of light shadow. It was as if water had gotten behind the sky somehow, and was sliding up against it. Keeping her footing while the ground shook, Cristina studied those splotches, concerned. As we all watched, the first of them burst - and a spraying torrent of dim water arced across the dome of the sky. To our left, another spout burst from the very air, and some rained down on us. At first, we lunged away, but it didn't seem to be harmful. By the time it reached us, the spray was just a drizzle, and Cristina held out her hands to let some pool between her closed fingers. In wonder, she tipped it back and forth. "" It's *heavy.*"" I asked, looking over her shoulder alongside a dozen Noahs. "" Heavier water?"" ""It's not water,"" she realized aloud. "" It's *compressed space.*"" She opened her hands and let it fall to the ground, where it pooled on the leaf-covered dirt. "" So this is how it happens""
""Compressed space?"" Noah-57 asked. "" I thought white holes would get us."" She shook her head. "" The First World's shield focused all the pressure into a single point. This is more general, and all around us. The higher-dimensional pressure is literally compressing space into a liquid form. Those of us down in gravity wells are going to be the first to go."" I shuddered. "" What do we do?"" She shook her head. "" Avoid drowning, or being crushed by the sheer weight of the compressed space. Enact our plan as fast as we can."" We began jogging as a unit, at a pace that might soon exhaust us - but there was no choice. We ran along high trails and down forested slopes, angling through cracks in space between realities. At each one, Cristina checked her hastily drawn map, comparing notes about the environs to confirm we were on course. In each new world, we jogged under high visible cracks in dim blue. In each new world, grey ethereal liquid shot across the sky in colossal spouts, sometimes raining down on us in heavy little droplets. It didn't soak our clothes. Just the opposite: it pelted us and rolled off, pooling underneath our feet and splashing out of the way as we slammed our shoes down onto dry earth. It was an arid flood. We were still eleven winding reality transitions distant from our target Amber World, judging by our map, when the worst possible turn of events happened. We'd climbed higher up onto barren mountain rocks to proceed, but the words echoed in our minds, not from stone. **Arrogant supplicants before God, how dare ye strive to make His will reality?** I bent over in pain and screamed as the words burned against the inside of my skull, and Cristina hunched over, too - but she had her gun out, and aimed at the Noahs behind us. They each looked wary and normal. None had converted. Just like we'd counted on, they were immune. **Only those of the Anti-Faith will lift from the pains of this world. Join in unbelief, and unmake the imposter God on high! Free your eternal souls from His tyranny!** Beside me, Cristina began to shake off the pain with a violent trembling anger. Her face flushed beet red, and a line of spittle descended from her lips. As she balled her fists, I threw off the powerful headache and grabbed her. "" ""*I have to!*"" she screamed, fighting me off. ""* This might be our only chance!*"" **Even ye, heretic, who has decried the Word. Even ye may join us in eternal choir.** On guard, our two hundred Noahs scanned the gloomy drizzle-shadowed mountainside, but none could locate the Preacher itself. "" It's like a cloud of people,"" one commented, confused. "" They're all around us - screaming. That multitude of screams forms that voice you're hearing."" ""*I know*,"" Cristina grunted, furious. I fought to keep her from running off. "" Cristina, I understand, I do, but it's literally raining compressed space on us. It's the end of the world!"" ""*This is our chance!*"" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "" The Noahs are immune, and we've got the weapons. We can do it, Conn. We've got that godforsaken thing dead to rights!"" Tears rolled down my face. I also knew there was no choice. "" There's no time,"" I cried. "" You don't know what you're going to face ahead. You have to take these men, these weapons, and you have to save everyone. You might kill the Preacher, but then we'll all die soon after because of the time we waste chasing it."" She bit my arm hard, drawing blood, but she failed to get away. "" I don't care. Dying happens to everyone eventually. But that thing has our daughter's *soul*, Conn. It crept into that graveyard and it stole their bodies and took their *souls*. And I can't forgive myself for failing to save her for all these years."" The Preacher continued broadcasting its Unholy Word into my mind, but I was at peace. I knew what I had to do, and what it would cost. "" She slowed her flailing assault and stared at me. "" ""Let me take care of it,"" I said, utterly calm. "" I'll take care of the Preacher, and you go on and save the Shield. Trust me to do this."" This time, her refusal was different. She wasn't saying it out of rage, but love. ""It's the only way,"" I told her. "" It's gotta be why I'm here. If either of us have faith in the bigger picture at all, I gotta believe I survived all this time to stick by your side and reach this moment. Of all the people in the multiverse, I'm the only one as angry at the Preacher as you, and I'm the only one who might pull this off, and I just so happen to be here when you get one last shot at that evil bastard. I'm no good with the tech stuff, but I can fight, and I can love you. I'm *here* so that *you* can keep your heart focused. I'll protect your heart so that you can save the human race. Let me do this for you. I don't wanna die watching you guys mess with some consoles in a bunker somewhere. Let this be the way I go out."" She stepped back, her face red with every emotion other than anger. Noah Two, with a solemn nod, handed me his wickedly smooth sapphire weapon. I hefted it, comparing its handling to the assault rifle on my back. It would do. There was no final kiss, and no final emotional words. We'd already said our goodbyes in private, and we'd both known this was probably a one-way trip. She placed her hand flat on my chest for a few seconds, feeling my heartbeat, and then led her duplicate troops on into the strange storm ahead. Noah Two hung back for a moment, just long enough to hand me a small amethyst pyramid about an inch high. "" Don't let the Preacher get you, buddy. If you think it's gonna happen"" I understood, and slid the tiny suicide device into my pocket. The Preacher couldn't claim a corpse - or a soul - if there was nothing left to absorb, and I might just take it down with me in the process. Noah Two ran off to join the others, and I darted a different direction. **The messenger sees one has chosen to remain. Have ye forsaken the heretic?** ""I have,"" I lied aloud, shouting up to the high rocks. "" I wish to join your eternal choir."" **Speak louder, insect. Praise the Word of Unbelief!** ""Come closer,"" I yelled, circling among the crags, my eyes searching every hiding place. Clattering sounds echoed somewhere to my left, and I aimed my sapphire rifle and pulled the trigger. A carved deep blue dodecahedron projectile sliced out from the gun, and the mountainside exploded. As rubble dispersed out into the air, something tremendous skittered away behind me. I whipped around. That was it: a white, pink, and red amalgamation of semi-alive corpses in the shape of a gigantic spider that bore a human face. It was about half as tall as the trees around it, and moved with agile grace between them. The hatred Cristina and I shared fueled me, and I fired again; the thing had planned well, though, and the mile between us gave it time to escape the second explosion. It had eluded Cristina all these years, so I knew it to be an expert at running and hiding. I needed to avoid giving it the chance to use those skills. Running at top speed down the rocky mountainside, I barreled after it. I came into a wide clearing among the trees just in time to see it duck into a trembling crack in space. Sapphire rifle hefted, I followed across white hospital tiles and into a new world where the gloomy ethereal rain was pelting down at a much harder pace. Splashing through the dry liquid, highly aware of the low visibility in the torrential downpour, I ducked behind a tree and scanned the rainy forest. Nothing moved but swaying leaves and plopping heavy droplets. It hadn't run; not yet. It was lying in wait to -
I spun around and fired behind me. The Preacher would have been hit dead on, had it not reflexively opened a hole through itself. The sapphire projectile sailed through and exploded harmlessly in the trees beyond, and the hole in the mass of corpse-flesh closed again. My gun whined in response to another click, as it was still recharging, but the Preacher didn't know that. It leapt past me and ran, trampling bushes and small trees in panic. **Heretic! The Anti-God will find and punish ye!** Running after the beast, and ignoring the surging dry rain, I trampled the same bushes to keep up. I should have been tired, but I wasn't; I should have contemplated deeper strategies, but I didn't. That creature had my daughter's body and soul, and perhaps part of her mind, and I was closer than anyone had ever been to cornering it. Fire surged from somewhere deep inside me, fueling my heart and energizing my limbs. I ran - no, I charged. I charged through the woods, right down the mountainside, and into firing range once more. My fourth sapphire projectile exploded next to it, rupturing one of its eight limbs. "" Face me, scavenger!"" **Unworthy!** It turned and threw one of its other limbs at me. A thick shard of corpses shattered the tree I was running past, and large wooden splinters shot into my side. I scrunched my face up hard and kept running, feeling warm blood leaking down underneath the weird dry rain that continued to roll off of me. We both came to an open stretch of grassy dirt, and I tried for another shot. Nothing happened. Staring down at sapphire, I noticed a large wooden splinter jammed through one of the intricate mechanisms. "" The Preacher stopped running, and turned to face me with slow glee. I stood in place, judging my options. I was wounded by splinters, and they continually stabbed sharp little pains into my side. I would get weaker from blood loss, but I still had tremendous energy born of righteous rage. If I -
The ground vibrated beneath my shoes, but it was far different than the usual quakes. The Preacher ducked, and I dove into a gloomy grey pool. I'd caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, and I did not understand at all. Both the Preacher and I hunkered down, hiding among sloshing compressed space, as more than twenty gigantic ruby cubes roared past overhead. The trembling beneath us intensified as one of them came down closer to hover right above us. **Make no sound, no verbal praise,** the Preacher warned, an actual note of fear in its legion voice. I didn't have to be told twice. Praying to anything and everything, I kept my face down in the dry liquid, my breath held unto severe pain. Come on, come on haze began to descend over my thoughts, and I felt my awareness shrink. At the very last, I shot up, gasped in blessed air, and took off running. The ruby cubes were still on the horizon, but the one that had come to investigate us had somehow taken the sapphire weapon I'd thrown down in my diving haste. If the rifle hadn't jammed if I hadn't discarded it I shuddered to think what might have happened. The Preacher rose as I hit the trees - and, as I'd both hoped and dreaded, it began pursuing me. **Threaten the messenger of the Word? Ye shall suffer.** The fear was gone from its mental voice, and whatever momentary bond of danger we'd had was gone. I had no doubt it was going to try to kill me. I had to think, I had to think I had to think but I couldn't focus. What world was I in? I wasn't sure. My run took me down steep slopes, right into an abandoned suburb. What tools did I have? I had my regular assault rifle, but it would do little against a creature like that. I had the amethyst suicide device, but I wasn't about to resort to that just yet. Running through the flooded streets, I stretched my hand painfully. The burns from the First World's white hole were still healing, but I needed delicate precision. It took me a precious two minutes, but I managed to hotwire a car. I lucked out, in that it still had some gas, and I drove off as the Preacher burst between the houses and sighted me. It could sense my mental presence. That much I knew. I would never be able to hide from it. I couldn't simply drive away, either, or it would tire of chasing me and escape forever. No, I had to find some way to fight it then and there. There wasn't much time to think, because a large garbage truck appeared behind me in the gloomy rain. The Preacher had contorted itself in and around the driver's cabin; some mockery of the human form sat within, connected to the twisted blob of flesh all around - and it was actually driving after me. ""Bullshit!"" I shouted - but I had no squadmates to hear me. Not this time. A soldier wasn't supposed to go on missions alone, and a sudden chill beset my heart. Nobody was going to bail me out of this one, so I drove faster and harder than I should have through the storm. Random abandoned cars appeared before me, and I swerved around each at the last moment. The Preacher smashed through them with its enormous truck. It had no words for me now. It now knew I would not be swayed, and it now knew I would hunt it forever. In return, it could never let me escape. In a way, a true duel had commenced, and it would continue until one of us died. I needed a new tactic. Holding the wheel with one hand while I raced down an open patch of road, I brought my conventional rifle out and tried to aim it with one hand. A spray was all I needed, really, so I fired, even knowing the inevitable kickback would tear it from my grip. The gun fell away, its job done: one of the garbage truck's tires popped. The truck swerved, hit another car, and toppled over, flattening a good third of the Preacher's mass. Watching in the rearview mirror as I sped away, I saw it limp out and reform itself - smaller this time. Now, it was about twice the height of a car. Would it be slower as well? I had to use that time to slowly swerve my way through a graveyard of abandoned cars on the highway. It wasn't ideal, but it was still faster than moving on foot. Driving a new vehicle, it found me again half an hour later. On the open road now, we simply drove. If it sped up, I sped up. If I slowed down, it slowed down. The gas in our respective vehicles would eventually decide our fates. Throughout the long drive, the sloshing flood outside deepened to nearly a foot, slowing us both equally. The only thing I could think to do was to keep broadcasting random requests for help on my hand-held radio. For hours, I sent out signals explaining my situation, and explaining the pursuing creature that could bring a fate worse than death, but no response came. I was the one to run out of gas first. As my car sputtered and began to slow of its own accord, I gripped the amethyst pyramid in my pocket. We'd come to the outskirts of a new city, with another abandoned suburb. I ditched the car and ran; the Preacher slid from its vehicle and skittered after me. By then, my wounds had mostly sealed up, but the running re-opened them, and I began tiring from bleeding again. I fell against the hood of a green sedan, dark compressed space roiling all around my legs. Well, this was it. I watched the Preacher approach like a hungry spider about to leap onto its prey - actually, that was exactly what it was. My radio crackled to life, bringing the fuzzy sound of laughter. I pulled it up to my mouth. ""* ""I did it, I did it!"" a male voice laughed, his tone manic and crazy. "" Fate worse than death, fate worse than death, I let it go, because I was supposed to, and I can broadcast out now!"" Who is this?"" I demanded, staring at the approaching Preacher. It reared up higher as it galloped toward me. I could see individual corpses silently screaming at me in warning. Was my daughter among them? I couldn't be sure. A familiar - and very welcome - voice cut in. Heath spoke over my radio. "" Where the hell are you communicating from? This should be an extremely secure channel."" I didn't understand, but I knew I didn't need to. The gloomy rain fell away as a dozen new Suns appeared on every horizon around us. "" Oh, shit, Heath, it is good to hear your voice,"" I said, laughing with the third voice on our channel. The Preacher slowed to a halt, looking around with its myriad eyes at the sky-searing walls of flame sliding in from every direction. Someone had just nuked the entire planet. Somewhere, someone had finally lost it - someone in control of nuclear weapons. The bombs went off all around, not even fired at anything; simply exploding where they were. I had time for one last radio message. "" Heath, tell Cristina it's done. She'll understand."" Following that, I laughed loudly and happily for as long as I could. The radio cut out from interference soon after. The Preacher reared up as that blazing brightness intensified. ** Do not laugh! The distance is too great for instant death. Ye shall die with the messenger, in the greatest pain!** ""Nah,"" I told it, squeezing that amethyst pyramid as the ground began shaking to an incredible degree. Laura was safe now, and I had no desire to waste away from radiation burns. I'd already had enough of that with just my boiled hand. I shrugged, wiped away a tear, and smiled. "" With a simple press, I left the Preacher alone in a world on fire. It would not suffer a fate worse than death, as it deserved but close enough. ---
[Part 7](<URL>)"
s_1404_729,should I take a 1 year break from studying and just do nothing for a year? I cant do my homework. I cant focus and i have no energy. because of my depression and miserable life. i want a break. should i stop this year?
s_1514_213,"The Grey Riders [Part Three] I choose to daringly forego a mere sip and lift the lid and straw to take three deeply satisfying gulps of my soda. Its not something you can do more than once or twice at a movie without draining the cup and risking a bathroom break during something important, but Im in the mood to to sink with a smile into sense-filling sweetness. As the rolling flavor fades from my senses, I sigh with contentment. The older man to my right looks on with slightly wide eyes. I really thought that trailer had spoiled the end of the movie. Touching my cheek, I trace an old scar that I always liked to think healed in the shape of a black holes halo. It hadnt been there a moment ago, but the round bullet hole and two pointed corners where it had been stitched shut had collectively graced my left cheek for years; Id only just noticed and remembered. What, that girl shooting up through her own face to escape? Nah, they wouldnt end a movie like that. Not flashy enough. He nods with understanding, if not agreement. Glancing left, I notice one of my friends to the left of Tacitus. His hair is blood red and his skin is pale under the shifting light of the screen. I ask with excitement. When did you get here? He must not hear me over the noise and thunder of the previews; like Tacitus, he gazes unmoving at the picture. This must be a very safe place to you, the man says. Still smiling, I turn back to address him. Special, absolutely. I laugh with nostalgia. The bi-lustrum had just come, and among the movies they blasted to us was a little film that had missed the last one by barely a week. Can you believe that? It was released in the Empire four days after, which meant we didnt get to see it until *ten years* later. Oh, it would have changed everything about our own cinema. He matches my smile with a kind one of his own. It was that good? More than you know. I think back. It took the military caste by storm. My grandfather let me go see it on a school trip; some sort of special field trip just for the military kids. I focus on the screen as images of Imperial Legate Blue appear just as I remember. Countless rows of smartly-dressed children salute him on his high tapestried station as he salutes back, jokes with Imperial Legate Red whose face is on a nearby screen, and then introduces the movie. I grin wickedly. Nineteen-eighty-six. Already ten years old by the time we saw it, but it was absolutely timeless. Ah, yes... an instant classic. I ask, Youve seen it? For some reason, I had vaguely expected that he had not. Something about his manner hints that he is a foreigner; perhaps he is from another continent. He does not answer. His slightly crooked nose throws random shadows across his face as he turns his gaze around the theater. So this place is special to you, but not safe? Shaking my head, I look up into the vast dark void above. The ceiling is black, but visible; definitely present, but still high and distant. When the movie actually starts, Im thankful, for it absorbs my full attention and pulls me somewhere else. Here in the dark, in the long minutes before it begins, I feel reversed. I am as a spider clinging to the ceiling above an infinite and unknowable depth full of icy chills, absolute silence, and utter loneliness. He follows my gaze upward and replies solemnly, I see. In the current preview being shown, a lost little girl reaches for her mothers hand in the forested night, but her mother has vanished, and she is alone. I look away from both the darkness above and the moving light ahead. After an uncomfortable moment resisting some unknown chill, I continue. Anyway, it was a double feature. Predator and Die Hard, back to back, and no school at all. That was the best day *ever.* That sounds wonderful. It must have deeply affected you, being surrounded by children your age all boisterous and full of camaraderie after a day of pure on-screen bravado. Laughing, I said, More than you know. I really needed that feeling. Genuinely compassionate, he asks, How many weeks before had your parents been exiled? A rising choir of screams emanates from the trailer that has now been placed upon our screen. That same actress from the first trailer with the distinctive wound in her left cheek is now in another upcoming movie; here she clings to the inner top of a well while her world begins undergoing a Dimensional Rotation. I laugh heartily. Oh man, not this cliche again. This is like the tenth movie to use that plot device. Dont they know the Legates would *never* do something so absurdly drastic? Its just not believable! And does this movie even have a makeup department? It looks like shes still exhausted from that other movie! Passed out, in fact... I trail off as I began to feel strangely uncomfortable. He gives a kindly worried grimace. She really does need to wake up. Her friends cant hold her ankles much longer. Someone opens a door behind us in the theater. Light streams in, blinding me. Someone else opens an emergency exit door. Wind from outside roars in, throwing my hair about wildly as my face hits the back of the seat in front of me. Combat skills and determination won't be enough to survive this! he shouts in my ear. Think it through! What does a Dimensional Rotation do? Breathing becomes incredibly hard, and I gasp; indeed, it was the outward rush of air and drop in pressure that had momentarily knocked the girl in the preview unconscious in the first place. Theyre literally *turning the planet,* I tell him, gripping the seats in an effort not to be torn up and away into the black. Rotating... local spacetime. It wont make the holes go away... but it will change where they go...
Thereby cutting off your enemy, he yells. Smart tactic! ""Smart..."" I can only barely manage a whisper as the battering gale tears all presence from my lungs. Except for this part...
Consciousness returned in a disorienting instant. Grabbing jutting stones instinctively as I upended, I stared up into a long circular darkness where dozens of terrified people hung like so many wide-eyed spiders staring down at me. The closest was a dirt-covered and gritted face at the shoulder end of a straining arm. How was Flavia above me? If the well was up, then down waswe had just been talking about my greatest fear, a secret born within me from my vulnerable youthful years, and that animal terror reared up just outside my awareness
*Don't look down!* Flavia shouted something, but I couldn't hear her over the deafening winds holding me aloft. *don't look down*
The turbulent gale was so powerful that the mud had been stripped from her hair. *don't look down don't look down don't look down don't look down don't look down*
In a wide arc, the blonde halo danced chaotically around her head like the Medusa of old. *don'tlookdowndon'tlookdowndon'tlookdown*
Indeed, the full realization of my situation turned me to stone as I saw the reflected tint of the skies augmenting that blue already present in her eyes. There was nothing but open void below waiting to swallow me; light and windy rather than dark and silent, but void nevertheless. The paralysis of that childhood terror took me, and I slipped from her grasp in an eternally long moment of mutual shocked stares and flailing hands. A single sharp violin note in my heart slowed time to infinity, but there was nothing for it. DownI was sinkingdown! no!a millimeter an eon, but it was already too late. As I sank into a deeper current, that long violin note faded in favor of the wind's all-encompassing roar, and the well in the ceiling of the world shrank at a startling pace. As I curved away from it, I saw Flavia leap forth; where she had once considered giving up by falling in, she was now jumping out of that same well and off of that same ledge with the fire of life. A gripping fist slammed me into earth, and I bounced and flipped over fully once before grabbing at dirt with my fingers. Momentarily flat, I turned my face up against the hot wind and looked a planetary crisis in the eyes. Dirt soared at me like an endless plane of flowing dust; only buildings, trees, and the distant well stood against it. The clouds were unrecognizable speeding tracts of jagged white on tempestuous blue racing by overhead. Indeed, if I understood right, the atmosphere would be the first thing to feel the effects of the Rotationit was the least anchored and the most mobile, and was far heavier by mass than anyone usually gave it credit for. All around the world, the entire atmosphere had begun to move all at once, and that initial maelstrom had torn Rufus away, and then me. From what I'd seen in the movies, there would be a small lull after the chaos ebbed; after the air stopped tripping on itself and began moving smoothly in concert, but before it began picking up real speed. That moment would be my only chance. And I was so tired. My fingers held all of my remaining strength, and employed it fully to dig into grass and loam. The wind grew warmer as the energy being expended found sink in the atmosphere; I gasped against dirt and dust to breathe. My outward sigh of pain coincided with a quieting breeze as the moment approached, and I tried to climb to my kneesbut failed. Firm hands pulled me up by my forearm, and I tried again, this time succeeding. Flavia pushed forward against the wind alongside me, and even spoke words of determination, but I could not hear her over the whisper turning into dragon's breath around us. It was different this time. No longer were there curling currents of chaos curving this way and that through the woods and ways of our world; the gale was now unified, constant, and rising. Often with storms there is an innate apprehension as one awaits the ebb of a particular blast, and keening adrenaline as it rises higher and higher, suggesting the idea that *this one might just keep getting stronger*I felt that adrenaline, for I knew this force would not stop. She and I ran forward together stumbling; walked together; pushed and shouted against a flat palm of brutal force at the last; fell flat and clutched the earth again mere steps from the well as the roar grew beyond deafening, the vibration of the ground shook us to our core, and the sheer force began peeling us away from our handholds. There were only two planes now, both opaque, smooth, and blazing past. One was dull brown and one was bright blue, but they both screamed doom. I kept my head up and my eyes and mouth turned away, but like a powerful ocean current that I had somehow sunk into up to my elbows, the brown pulled past with unstoppable strength. My fingers finally let go. I hear you again, playing that distant violin, for I am about to die. I know this. I do not accept it, but I know it. There can be no surviving this speed, this sheer kinetic energy, and I tumble half in that flat brown plane and half out, breathing in the scant instants I can before hitting the earth again and again. If I could just *see*, I might try to
The pain hits beyond belief, but somewhere far away where I can barely feel it. I am back in the movie theater again for a brief lapse; the man with the crooked nose stands over me in concern as I lay crumpled between the seats. I'm not sure why, but I need to know. I ask desperately, ""Is Flavia here?"" He looks left for a moment, and then smiles and shakes his head. "" Heaving awake, I pushed at the encompassing pressure crushing every limb. Metal rods and massive broken foundations jutted around me, but something marginally softer had prevented my impalement. Turning my head, I saw who I had landed against. The rods had stabbed into he who had traveled upon this path first, and thus his last act had been to save my life one more time. His broken arm had twisted and remained at an angle, leaving him in a permanent state of salute. I didn't have the breath to tell him, but Rufus knew I was thankful. The heated atmospheric impetus reached the force and constancy of a jet engine aimed directly at me, and I crawled deeper into the rubble to escape being torn away. Among the heavy walls, I entered under the wordless screaming gazes of a dozen others who had already secured themselves here. Tied to rods or wedged between stones, they held on with their all and prepared for what was comingfor the spherical globe-spanning hurricane was merely the beginning. They could see my uniform. Children looked at me and grew calm. Mothers nodded with silent thanks. Fathers clenched their fists in determination. Was Iwas my mere presence
I was a symbol. Not only was it necessary that I survive, I had to look calm and confident, too. As my ears adjusted to the eerily constant breath of the world-dragon around us, all became silent. Here in the broken pits that had once been the foundation of a building, I could breathe, and I let myself do so as the whining of the sirens broke through the deafening blanket. The alarms had been built to be heard even under these conditions, loud beyond belief, and we listened to their long shrill dirges now. To say that I was utterly terrified beyond the limits of insanity would have been an understatement, but I just gazed at a young girl who had been tied to a foundation stone by her mother. If I wasn't scared, then she wasn't scared. If she wasn't scared, then I wasn't scared. Think it through, he'd said. All I had was my belt. As the world itself trembled from the sheer ferocity of wind overhead, I tied my belt first around three rods, and then my wrist. Heart pounding in horrified anticipation, I sent my senses down to my core. Could I feel it? It was starting. What did I know about the Rotation? Something about reference frames, inertia, a minimum level of static friction and potential energythey hadn't taught us about it in depth because nobody had expected the deeper capabilities of our artificial Earth to ever actually be employed. There was something, too, about frame dragging and the computational inclusions of the massive bio-computers hooked into the core of the planet. The ground itself and any buildings, rooted trees, and other heavy stationary objects would remain anchored, but absolutely everything loose or mobile would notpeople included. Staring, I watched the little silver dolphin at the end of the girl's necklace begin to rise. A slight dizziness and disorientation washed over me; underneath us, the grey rubble began to take on the feeling of tilting. I expected them to, but nobody screamed. All eyes were on me. Adjusting my footing repeatedly as the tilt became steeper and smaller rocks began tumbling away, I did my best to appear confident. I even said some platitude I had once heard the Chief repeat. Despite being unable to hear a single thing over the jet engine that was our atmosphere, parents nodded. My gaze turned to the mother's hand on that little girl's. No, the terror only became real once the dirt and rubble were sliding away in earnest and we had to fight to keep standing. A thirty-degree incline, and then thirty-five, and then fortyat forty-five degrees, something changed in my perception, and I no longer perceived myself to be on a steepening hill. Instead, it was a cliff becoming progressively more shallow. Now they screamed, for they could not help it. Children cried as they slipped and fell and became tangled in their ropes; fathers strained their arms and mothers tied knots ever tighter. Their eyes were upon me no longer, for this was now a time of personal survival and nothing else. That part of me that begged for a larger entity than myself to *do something* screamed loudly in my thoughts as my boots scrabbled away from the tilting earth for the final time and I began truly hanging from my tied belt. Now my brain processed the fiery winds for what they were: all around the globe, above every city and valley and mountain, the skies were literally fallingit just so happened that, because of the Rotation, down was becoming horizontal rather than vertical. Like a roundabout that I had often played on as a child, once it began spinning, the imaginary force that appeared when our reference frame was in rotation became the dominant pull. Centrifugal, I told myself, squeezing my eyes shut. I was not hanging over an endless pit; I was being held horizontal by centrifugal force. The logic wasn't enough to override the fear. Opening my eyes again, I stared down past my feet. I was hanging next to an infinite cliff, and only ledges, trees, and buildings stuck out below to break my falland my body. To my left, a father's rope came untied, and I watched him sail down into the distance only to splatter and bounce from the side of some distant wall. Worse, ragdolls were flying through the air around us, and I saw many nearby hangers-on turn away in horror as they soared past and became bright red blotches on brick ledges, rocks, and trees far below. How far would it go? That desperate terror struck me again as I thought of the force continuing to tilt and throwing me straight up into the sky, but it stopped directly at horizontal as the full weight of the Rotation turned spacetime beneath the very fabric of our existence. Shuddering and weak from all that I had been through, I let the belt choke my wrist into numbness. I could not hold on, but the pain was better than falling even if I lost a hand. The sirens cut off one by one, but not because the danger was past. I flinched as a falling car snapped off the alarm tower visible on the horizon. Thousands of logs followed, a storm with wood instead of raindrops, and the foundation above me shook tremendously at the impacts. Multiple logs hit each other, and one bounced in and crushed a child and half a father hanging some measure below me. How much more could we take?! * What would be left of us even if we survived this?!* The heat of our raging blacksmith's furnace grew unbearable, and I thought I actually saw a trunk or two burst into flames as they impacted one another. There was no longer any sound, for the overwhelming reverberation of the rushing ocean of air falling past us had left me with nothing but auditory numbness. Pieces of my uniform were being torn away by their frayed or sliced ends; I could feel the belt squeezing the bones of my wrist into horrible bruising. It was as if the hand of some entity of kinetic energy had gripped me bodily and begun to squeeze and pull, and it only grew more intent as a truck slammed into the stone above. It was going to crack. I could sense it. I could also see it in the eyes of those far from me who could see up past the overhang at what I could not. Had my hands rested enough? I didn't have a choice. Gripping the jutting metal rods, I fought the crushing fist that held my body in thrall. I just needed enough to undo the belt, and thenthe pain! Screaming mentally as the feeling rushed back into my hand, I dove headlong into the nerve-fire and gripped the next rod over with fingers I couldn't even feel. It wasn't enough. The wrenching forces snapped me down with vehemence, and I shot past my startled companions in the blink of an eye. There was no longer any fear. Now that I was falling along with the wind, vehicles, logs the grey wave had thrown about, and even other people, I felt hardly anything at all. The wind was lesser, for I was at speed, and nothing was hitting me, for we were all soaring together. Curiously, the divorcing of action from ability left me completely calm. There were no objects in reach, I had no strength left, and there was no way to communicate. I could do nothing. Therefore, I was no longer afraid. Fear existed to motivate necessary actions, I realized, and without possible actions I was merely an observer. My fate was in the hands of Luck or Fate or Chance personified now. At the very least, this was a beautiful experience. The eternal cliff to one side whipped past, full of buildings and rubble and broken forests seen in a way no human being had ever experienced before. On the other side, layers upon layers of the sky moved with me, a graceful ocean walling me off from space. I would not be cast out into that icy cold void alone like I had feared as a child; even at its most injured, my Earth would hold me tight and protect me from that fate. How high was I? Two, maybe three stories up? I was lucky most suburban buildings had been destroyed. New Rome approached like so many flat spikes below, shooting out far from the eternal cliff even at this perspective. Would one of those buildings be my end? Falling around me, I saw a white-haired old man, an unconscious brunette woman, andno! The little girl! She was above me, but falling fasterwhy? * Less air resistance? A different current? She screamed mightily with abject terror, but there was nobody to hear her. I pointed at the old man and then at her, and he saw her approaching. Would he understand? He tried to grab her, but, failing that, pushed her my way. We were skydiving. Wait, junior year we'd trained for this! It had only been the one time, and just as part of a cooperative educational effort with the army, but we *had* done this. Suddenly back in a type of situation I understood, I used what felt like permanent blasting air jets to move myself closer. My arms closed around her, and I gripped her tight. Her silver dolphin necklace tried to spirit itself away, but I grabbed it on impulse. The girl clutched my midsection tight, and I looked past her at the old man, who had emulated me in moving with the air and grabbing the unconscious woman. Look downbuildings growing largerwhat had our speed been skydiving? By military reckon, a league and a half per minute, which meant two miles a minuteand we'd started near Collis Oppidumsomewhere in my training, I had learned to keep track of the time even in crisis. Alrightwe had ninety seconds. I used one hand to hold the girl against me and the other to grab the old man as he floated within range. He was likely military or engineering caste, for he understood what was needed. Together, we scanned the storm of debris around us for anything that might act to slow our rate of descent. It was he who saw ita massive tarp whipping around the contents of a long flatbed truck loaded with pipes. We angled our four bodies and moved toward it, but we dared not accelerate too fast and injure ourselves upon it. The wait was beyond excruciating. I let the girl go and she clasped the side of the truck and held on. I mouthed, *I'll be back*, and she nodded tearfully. The old man climbed his way down with the woman in tow; tying her to the back of the cabin, he let her hang limp in the wind, for there was little else he could do. Time was up. We three conscious passengers on the side of the falling truck clenched against the coming impact as the broken teeth of New Rome came up to meet us with all their yawning broken glass windows and exposed interconnecting structural supports. They had been built to withstand this kind of disaster, and withstand they had; cars, trucks, logs, boulders, and people smashed into them, but their armored cores and reinforced network of strutsusually hidden behind colorful banners or artfully blue to avoid sticking outnow took every impact without so much as a shiver. It was at one of these angled buttresses we shotand passed within an arm's length. Looking up, I stared for a single heartbeat at the receding spikes above. We had somehow hit the bullseye and soared right through; the buildings had taken a ton of the debris out of the air around us, for that matter. I looked down to the old man and mouthed, *Let's go!* He nodded and began untying the forward section of the tarp. I climbed higher and untied as I went, replacing the knots with a cinch around my own waist. We would have to do this right if we were to use this tarp correctly. Looking down, I confirmed that he had done the same for himself and the little girl at the proper points. All we could do was create a curve in the huge tarp with our own weight and hope that the wind kept it full; we had no time or materials for a proper parachute. Even as we worked, the tilt began softening. We kept the important points tied so that it would not flap in the wind until we were ready, but, as I reached for my knife, they began snapping one by one. He had been going for her, but the now-conscious woman in the cabin stared at us through the window as we were pulled roughly away. As we three slammed together like pendulums and held tight, we could do nothing but watch her drop down into the distance with the truck. *Away,* the old man indicated, pointing into the sky. Debris was our enemy now, more so than a potential fall. We did our best by pulling on the tarp ropes to direct ourselves away from the eternal cliff and its limitless continuum of debris; over the course of countless heartbeats, the Rotation began slowing and the tilt in the world faded. We ourselves rotated with it, and our feet came to point at the racing ground. There was nothing else to do but take the impact. I tried to run as the speeding earth came up to meet us, but it was just too fast. Random debris continued to fall as we lay on our backs in that upturned field and stared up at the sky. He had broken a leg, and I had broken an arm, but the little girl between us remained unharmed. Of the detritus arcing to earth like falling stars, I sighted numerous black spheres. Stumbling over flattened high grass and kicking one, I found it to be undamaged, but lifeless. The intelligence behind its operation had been cut off by the Dimensional Rotation exactly as the Legates had hoped. Our world had still been shotgunned with holes to other realities by some unknown damage, but we were no longer directly connected to wherever that particular enemy resided. There were no words. Dirt-blasted, limping, injured, and in shock, we three began the long walk back to the city. Ashen ghosts joined us one or two at a time, and what was left of the road became a trail of silent tears lined by the remains of both people and civilization. The heat generated by the Rotation had not left us, and we walked on into the searing night without relief. But we had survived. We had lived through it. By training and action, we had survived the forceful turning of our entire planet and the spacetime around it, just as our forefathers had intended when they had grown the Amber Worlds in the first placewell, not exactly. The ability was supposed to have been used for restructuring the branches and support of the outer Shield, and we were *supposed* to have months or even years to prepare. With only sixty seconds' warning, we had undoubtedly lost a tremendous fraction of our way of life. All vehicles had basically been destroyed, as well as any structures not built to military code, and everyone who had not heard the sirens or who had not found secure attachment in less than a minute. There were no words to describe the losses. Worse was the general understanding that the Empire would not be coming to help us. We who had lived at the core of the Shielded worlds had had our own protections stripped away; what likelihood was it that *they* were still alive? The First World, maybe, for it had its own powerful barrier, but none of us thought for a second that the rest of the Empire had survived whatever had happened. Indeed, through every little window in space as we walked, we saw only strangeness and nightmare. The squat high towers of New Rome exhibited an array of vehicles and other buildings sticking out from one side; the other, while hardly pristine with all those broken windows, stood as a testament to the fact that we were still here. Most of the survivors in our thousand-odd walkers from the outer areas had been military or engineering caste. Arriving at midnight sweaty and drained shells of our former selves, as a group we began picking things up and cleaning. It took an arriving Legate to order us to stand down and go recuperate before it really hit us that we had been through something so devastating that our way of lifeour very work ethicneeded to take a back seat for the moment. For me, it felt like Caecilia's order for us to go home all over again. Twice in the same day I had been told that I had reached the limits of my duty and that I should go home to see my friends and family. The feeling was... jarring. ""I'll get her to the Coordination Center and find her parents,"" my ally in parachuting told me. I gripped his arm and said in the formal, ""Good serving with you."" He saluted, and I knew then that he was military caste, not engineering. Part of me swelled with a little bit of pride as I watched him lead that little girl into the crowd. What devastation the strange grey wave had brought had since been dropped away by the Rotation, and I limped along clear roads and fields that had once been forests. Lone trees remained where once whole groves had stood; the wave had felled them, and the eternal cliff had sent them soaring to distant lands. At first I wondered why we lacked debris from those lands higher than us, but then I came upon the remains of the ocean as it lay pooled to the horizon. I stood in thrall then, filled with adrenaline once more, as I envisioned the tipping of the very ocean itself down the face of our lands. Beyond the second level of human endurance and deep into a third that stemmed from my very soul, I found enough energy to run home as the powerful beats of my favorite movies pounded action and music in my head. But my home had been on the main hill of Collis Oppidum, and the falling seas had swept around it. By dawn's light, I staggered up to buildings I had once thought matchstick; my heart swelled and my head filled with crescendos of triumph. A few others had fallen, but my home still stood. Kicking open the door, I again found our two rooms calm and organized; my grandfather had already cleaned up and made our apartment presentable. He sat within, drinking tea with a dozen others from the wellmy brothers and sisters included. Flavia was the first one up, and her arms held me tight. As the others rushed close, I fell to my knees and sobbed with happiness. I had no thoughts, only joy and wonder and relief, and my gaze remained locked upon the silver dolphin and chain that had become tangled around my bruised wrist. ""You're quite dirty,"" my grandfather said warmly from beyond the huddle of cheer and clasping arms. "" What have I told you about coming in the house as such? Go clean off."" ""I will,"" I told him, laughing despite the pain of my broken arm, open cheek, exposed temple, bruised wrist, utter exhaustion, and numerous other little injuries. "" I will..."" Calm sleep found me as I slumped there on the floor surrounded by my family, and I let it overtake me. There were no dreams. I wanted no thoughts, no pain, and no adrenaline. I wanted resting blackness, and I was given it. I awoke in a sweat and at the ready, but with my arm in a cast, my cheek sewn up, my temple bandaged, and a compress on my wrist. There was no enemy to fight and no disaster coming; shivering, I lowered back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling the same way I had stared up at the sky after finally coming to light with our makeshift parachute. Was it really over? ""It's been three days. You're quite the layabout,"" my grandfather commented with a smile as he came over and patted a cloth on my forehead. "" How are you feeling?"" I tried to speak, but the words seized in my throat. Flashes of everything I had been through choked my heart, and I went through that blasting wave, that ancient house, Titus' empty eyes, the battles with the spheres, the horrifying winds, Rufus' final salute, the man and his child crushed by a bouncing log, the endless fall, and that woman staring at us out of the cabin of the truck all over again. I could only sob with all of my being. He held me against his chest. "" Fear not, granddaughter. You come from tough stock. You will be finein time."" It took another three days before I managed to stand on weak and trembling legs. Finding the mirror above our water bowl, I studied my cheek and forehead. The bullet hole had been made by the small caliber round of my police pistol, but it was still noticeable, and it was likely it would leave a permanent scar. No mattersuch scars were badges of honor for we. It was this weird drill-caused grooving on my temple that I abhorred; the skin had been torn away and my skull exposed and scored, but somebody had cleaned it and filled it with biogel. It would heal, but it would always *look funny*. ""Saving grace,"" someone said behind me, and I turned to see Flavia looking decent in a battered but repaired uniform. She threw a second repaired uniform and hat onto my bed. "" You can just about cover that head wound with your cap."" ""I'll need a cap if the hair that got torn out by the wind doesn't grow back,"" I responded, touching my metallic red strands gingerly. She was clutching my hand then, and I embraced my sister back. She said in the formal, ""I believed you dead."" I laughed, for I could laugh now. We had survived. "" And I you."" She let me go and looked down at my cast. "" Are you ready to get to work?"" I nodded. "" What's the situation?"" ""Food,"" she said vaguely. "" We have to go out and get some."" ""Somehow I don't think you mean to the store."" The whole military caste. We have to go through those rifts and find food, first for ourselves, and then for everyone else."" ""The farming caste""
She cut me off. "" will do their best, but the Rotation destroyed current fields all over the world."" I gulped. She knew my next question. ""One in seven died in the initial grey wave,"" she said quietly. Closing my eyes, I let my heart feel for Tacitus. He had been our one in seven. She took a deep breath. "" In the Rotation, better survival rates than expected, mainly because the population was already awake primed for danger. Another one in seven."" I clenched my one working hand. "" So""
""Two billion,"" she replied quickly so I didn't have to ask the question. "" In the span of four hours, two billion deaths. Two in seven people dead."" The surge of shock and anger was momentarily overwhelming. "" And the Legates?"" ""Did what they had to do by ordering the Rotation,"" Flavia whispered, her voice heavy with thoughts of our red-haired brother. "" At least that's what people are saying, and that's how we should decide to feel, too, given what such questions might lead to at such a critical time."" Fighting down my pain, I addressed her in the formal as the bond that mattered to me more than allegiance to my caste in this instance. "" Understood, sister."" She took my potentially subversive meaning, but kept her own counsel. "" Let's go down to the Coordination Center and see what we can do. There's a general leave order for those injured, but we can still volunteer."" Gripping her forearm with my good hand, I asked, ""Are you injured?"" She grimaced and turned. Lifting up the back of her top, I found a long bandage that trailed up from above the left edge of her waist to her right shoulder. ""The cut exposed the back of my ribs,"" she said. "" It hurts like no other, but I'm mobile and able, unlike many others."" I hadn't even thought about the wounded. "" ""Four in seven,"" she responded. "" Leaving only one in seven mobile and able for the time being, and many of those are children and young adults whose parents took the hits for them. We need everyone we can get."" I had joined the police academy at sixteen, but we had always been told to expect earlier enlistments if the need ever arose. They would not get a full four years of training like we had, so we would need to lead those sixteen and under when the time came. I mulled this over while we walked under the afternoon sun across wastelands empty of all but oceanic pools and solitary trees. I would not let go of her hand, for every attempt made me think of that moment at the windy well when time had slowed and I had looked death right in its sky blue eyes. The city was bursting with energy. Under the shadow of those towers, we watched as countless cranes worked to pull cars out of the buildings like so many splinters from a finger; the engineering caste had been raised their whole lives for exactly this kind of challenge, and they went about grinning and shouting and welding and operating machines with the kind of glee that could only come from an opportunity for meaningful field work in front of the public after entire careers spent out of sight behind desks. In that manner, our two castes were one, for the population cared little for what we military caste did out of sight and out of mind. The engineers' fervor became my own. ""What can we do?"" I asked the first officer we encountered outside the crowded Coordination Center whose tents and fences had been set up around a dwarfed City Hall that had been protected by the high buildings above it. The officer regarded my doubly-bandaged head and the arm I held in a sling. "" You are very much not required to volunteer."" My glare must have been incredible, for he immediately relented. In the informal, he said, ""Alright, fine. What's your name?"" I gave it, and I asked for the others. ""Septus, Flavia, Porcia, Venita, and Celcus,"" he finally stated, writing something on his clipboard. "" You can go over to""
Jumping, I asked, ""Is Celcus alive?"" He flipped through his papers. "" He should be. He's not on the KIA or MIA lists."" Flavia took the clipboard right out of his dumbfounded hands and eagerly looked for herself. Handing it back, she said to me, ""Let's go."" While we headed through the crowd, a great cheer went up, and we turned to see Legate Blue himself standing atop the steps of City Hall and holding his arms high over the crowd. I stopped and stared, stunned even out of my desire to see Celcus; this was the same man I had seen when I was six and numerous times on big screens after, and he was only made more handsome by the recent peppering of grey in his black hair. He alone among the Legates was not an older white-haired general, and I was not surprised that he had come to us in person. Four soldiers dressed sharply in black and gold stood to his right, and Flavia leapt and pointed. "" It's Caecilia! They survived!"" ---
(continued below)"
s_1514_731,"(continued p.1)
---
The man trembled, but spoke for us. "" Sir, I've been locked up at gunpoint, given endless scans, sent into supernatural darkness, seen my squadmates torn apart and then delivered back to me, put up with endless evil sermons, even shot a friend because a mosquito got in his brain. I'm *tired* and I know if I go back in the Ink, I'm gonna die."" The brigadier general nodded, his gaze scanning the tired faces around him. "" You all feel this way?"" Nods followed. He stepped back, and his already deep voice lowered an octave with grim anger. "" If we don't deal with this situation, we are all going to die. That means that you will probably die whether you go back into the Ink or not."" Unhappy murmurs circled the crowd. As he walked away, his order cut right into our hopes. "" Have them build hotboxes, and put them all through in a rotation until they comply. Two hours each."" A great unhappy noise swelled among us, but we were soldiers, and we weren't going back into the Ink for the moment so we followed the officers' orders, and began building our own torture devices under the hot Sun. I was already sweaty and tired when they threw me in the one I'd built. It was simple, really - six metal plates bolted together. It hadn't even taken very long to make. But my two hours would feel like forever. I sat in there, sweating, frying, melting for an eternity. All I wanted was to go home. This was a nightmare in every sense. Down one path, there was darkness and hellish threats that continually tore at us, at our sanity down the other, slowly dying in a hotbox. The Sword wasn't going to let us leave. It occurred to me, in a flash of feverish inspiration, that nobody had taken brain scans of the brigadier general himself. How did we know *he* wasn't under some evil influence? What if a neural mosquito had gotten to *him*, and this was its way of slowly killing all of us? I cried, but no tears came out. I was too dehydrated. I remember being very certain that I was going to die in that box before I ever got a chance to grab for that one slim hope
But the top did eventually open, and they pulled me out and dumped the next guy in. I stumbled to the nearest water and guzzled it down alongside a long line of other red-skinned soldiers doing the same. As soon as I could, I slipped away, and found Thompson. She was in the techie tent, drawing plans to kill the Preacher. Her face was absolutely filled with hate for that thing and I couldn't blame her but she quickly threw on a neutral expression when she saw me. It was all I could do just to talk through my heat exhaustion. "" I have a theory that the brigadier general's been compromised."" She regarded me with a skeptical but open look. "" I nodded, and tried to breathe normally. "" This is crazy it's unlike any campaign I've ever been on. That man is driving us forward with torture, and he doesn't care if we die. Do you have any recent brain scans of him? Like you took on us?"" Her gaze went distant for a moment. "" No I don't, actually."" ""Will you get one?"" I asked, desperate. She nodded. "" You're thinking neural mosquito?"" ""I'll manage it,"" she promised quietly. "" Now get out of here before someone sees you. Nobody can know about this conversation."" I made it to my bunk and fell before my body completely gave out and they came for me a few minutes later, dragging me back to the hotbox for my next turn. There were a great many people in those boxes, in the sand, in the heat crying. We couldn't last. It simply wasn't possible. Groans and shouts gave way, and we were all spared the hotboxes for agreeing to go back into the Ink the next day. I lay in my empty tent, awake the entire night, hoping against hope that your ex-wife would come through before we had to go back into that dark and silent Hell. She snuck in some time just before dawn, a brain scan document in hand. ""What'd you get?"" I asked, exuberant, even trying to sit up. She shook her head and showed me. "" He's clean."" ""*What?*"" ""Nothing wrong with his brain. No mosquitoes. Whatever's out in the Ink, it really must be worth all this suffering."" I remember sobbing uncontrollably. "" ""I'm sorry,"" she said, pouring some water across my reddened forehead. "" But we're all here for a reason. Everything he's done is technically legal."" She paused. "" But if he gets worse, come to me. I'll make some calls."" I could only screw up my face and nod. And, then, a few hours later, it was time to gear up and go back out. There was no chatter, no murmurs no talk of any kind. Silent, broken, despairing, we went through the motions of setting up lights and guarding ourselves against unknown threats, but I was sure each of us simply expected to die in some new and horrible way. It was on that day that we finally reached our objective. I think we were six miles deep into the Ink at that point, and four miles straight down thanks to the impossible slope. I envisioned it as an immense unseen crater that existed only inside that valley of darkness
And it was just sitting there at the center of the enormous crater, the slope stretching up and away on all sides. ""Any contact with the Preacher yet?"" the brigadier general asked over the static-filled radio relays. Nobody responded in the affirmative. They wouldn't, because I knew where the Preacher had gone. It had continually retreated whenever we'd tried to attack it and it had vacuumed up more than one of our dead colleagues to add to its bulk. Standing with five other men and staring at the source of the Ink, I knew where it had gone each night. The ten-foot-high sphere sat casually in the sand, like it had simply chosen to fall and rest there. Each edge held an asymptotic darkness, but, within, we saw another place. As we watched, it shifted. Another place and another seconds later, another
This was some sort of hellish egg, or black hole, or shadow portal, or *something* and it went to places beyond any of our worst fears. We reported our discovery, and the next order did not surprise us at all. ""All units, gather at the Sphere. We'll deploy each time the blood-lakes and corpse-mountains world appears."" This time, I knew who spoke. I picked up my radio, and signed what felt like my own death warrant: ""No, sir."" Another man raised his radio, his gaze aghast as he witnessed what looked like, in all actuality, Hell itself. His words were as tear-filled as his eyes. "" We refuse."" ""*The Preacher must die!*"" the Sword roared over the radio, his high shout causing a burst of static. Forty men and women now stood outside the Sphere, lit by a weird shadow-light that ignored the ten foot limit, and we looked at each other in confusion. The Preacher? Was that the true objective of our operations? Judging from the anger and hate in that shout, was this some sort of revenge mission? Or had he simply lost it completely? ""Set your charges,"" I remember breathing, and, somehow, everyone heard me. I wasn't in charge, but they listened. We piled up all the C4 and other explosives we had. We took all our mortar shells and rigged them up. We surrounded that fucking thing with enough firepower to blow a hole in reality itself. Fitting, judging by what I guessed that it was. We trekked back through the Ink, unafraid now. Everything that had been in here had been coldly and carefully murdered by thousands of armed men and women, and there was nothing left but us. We'd never figured out who had been leaving our friends' limbs for us to find, but we guessed that, since they hadn't attacked us yet, they never would. Long lines of soldiers trekked out of the Ink together, and we headed back to camp, soul-weary. The Sword was standing there, waiting for us, all of the officers lined up to his left and right. His monolithic stance and grim expression indicated immediately that we were in trouble. Somebody explained what we'd done, and that we'd set a timer on the explosives. He took a breath, and somehow grew even taller. "" Go back into the Ink and disarm those explosives."" ""There's hardly time,"" someone said. ""Reed,"" the Sword ordered, not so much as moving his head. "" Shoot that man in the leg."" ---
(continued in one more comment)"
s_1749_656,"I am going to get on disability. So I will be able to support myself. My plan is to have enough pain management that I can work a couple days a week under the table as well. The distance is the main issue. We would still be able to follow through with our plans. I will just be low energy most of the time, I could need surgeries, and I may fall down in the shower once in a while. There is no cure for what I have but it is fairly manageable."
s_2143_312,"Everyday seems gray- getting this off my chest So I have been thinking about death a lot and have been since November when my dads cancer has spread. I don't know I guess when I heard the news it just crushed me. Now, people who know me think I'm this happy go lucky girl who likes to make others laugh and always smiling. The problem is that's not really me. I only do that because it helps me forget my problems. I have no one to talk to because it's rare to find another 20 year old who's parent has cancer as well. I'm not close with my sisters. My sister got engaged like a week after the cancer news and I still try to be happy for her, but I'm not. Does that make me a bad person, that I would rather watch a movie or a tv show then to dress up and go to a wedding? I mean everything seems gray now, I'm very talkative at school but when I get home I stay in my room and go on the internet for hours. I only talk to people usually if they message me first. I have no one to talk to, I have friends but I'm a secretive person. I also am 99.9% have anxiety. I'm always worried, when it comes to driving- I did not drive at all last winter and driving a new car. When it comes to school and just every day things. So I'm getting this off my chest- if someone was to give me something that would allow me to die, honestly I would take it. I'm just not happy."
s_1494_22,Why do we invite these people in? We're on pretty good terms with Kuwait. Why must be punish ourselves like this? Like what? The last mass shooting was a racist white redneck from the heart of Real America.
s_2728_471,"Does anyone else feel guilty after they have anxiety attacks? I always feel guilty about what i do when i'm in the middle of an attack. When people try to help i always flinch away terrified, like a wounded animal. Days later i have this lingering guilt and paranoia about what that person thinks of me now that they've seen me act this way. This only brings on more anxiety. Anyone else?"
s_1475_26,"Everyone's bio (xpost r/iamverybadass) I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute cookies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after work, I repair electrical appliances free of charge. I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy eveningwear. I do not perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured Albania with a travelling centrifugal-force demonstration. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the BBC. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on holiday in Australia, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis"
s_2908_119,"A couple of things for me personally: cheating; overeating; gambling addiction; mental illness; and same-sex relationships. 1) Cheating. This is a different perspective, and I know a lot of people will downvote me for it or say I'm a horrible person, but I'm talking from the side of the cheater. I cheated on my ex-boyfriend. I was wrong for it. I promised myself I'd never do it again with any other person in the future. I also never did such a thing before. I was in an abusive relationship, mentally and emotionally, and my ex had secluded himself away as a means of punishment. I had moved 1500 miles away from family and friends to be with him. He refused letting me make any friends, and he always checked on me often to make sure I wasn't doing anything with anybody. Then, he told me to move out because it made his life difficult. In order for our relationship to ""make it,"" I had to move into my own place while I worked a temp job that I wasn't sure was going to last long. I did what I had to and moved out into my own place for the first time in my life. I was alone; had no one to turn to as he had me believe my family was an enemy; and I did the only thing I could. I found someone online, talked to them for a long time, and finally decided to meet up. It ended up becoming something sexual. We had sex more than once on multiple occasions. It got to the point where we had feelings for each other and I shut it down. Then, I told my ex. We stayed together another year after that, but I knew it wasn't going to work out and ultimately ended it. But it still messes with me, the way he has me programmed to think I'm unworthy of life without him. Nobody to blame but myself. 2) Overeating often is an eating disorder. It isn't just someone who cannot control themselves. It becomes an addiction, a mental condition and it causes you to make horrible mistakes to the point where your mental and physical self becomes garbage. Can people change? But that doesn't mean it's easy and it doesn't mean everyone can do it the same way as everyone else. I'm tired of these anti-fat people thinking bullying is going to solve the problem. It doesn't. Has it helped some? But I was bullied all my life and I only got fatter. 3) Gambling addiction. It's a different kind of addiction. People look at me strange when I say I have a gambling addiction. They tell me their stories of how they just don't take enough money with them for it to matter or that they know when to stop and leave or if they're up they leave. That's great. I tried it all. I still continue to go until I'm literally broke and spent the rent/bill money, the student loan money, the taxes, other people's money. I have a problem. Thankfully, I'm seeing someone for it and I've been 1 month sober, but it isn't just a simple fix. There's some deep emotional shit in your head that keeps you going back for more to feel like you're worth something. At least, that's how it is for me. 4) I suffer from depression due to low self-esteem as well as a list of other things as you can tell from my response. It's hard when you're trying to get your life together but you have zero energy or you're not sleeping well or you become anxious when talking to strangers in order to get a job/keep a job. It's particularly more difficult when you're trying to find the right dose of drugs to help keep you on an even keel so you can be a regular person without crying every two seconds. I'm now off any drugs and I seem to be doing really well. Been off them for 4 months now. Let's hope I continue doing well. I asked to be on drugs, not prescribed them by a psychiatrist. 5) I'm gay and I've been in many same-sex relationships. Many people in my life seem to make it out that same-sex relationships aren't real relationships or that same-sex relationships aren't the same as heterosexual relationships. My mother often argued that my ex and I could never understand what it's like to be in a deep, emotional relationship because we're the same gender. My ex-friend told me that my ex and I could never understand what it's like to be married because we didn't have the right to be married and therefore could never understand the deep emotional ties you create when you say 'I do.' Meanwhile, she's now getting a divorce from said husband that she said she was so close to a year and a half ago."
s_50_762,I Know that but I'm very sleep deprived
s_2958_197,"Dear rabbit I miss you, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you. After all of these months of putting together the pieces, like an expert piecing back together a plane after a horrible crash, I finally have a good picture and can say that this was all my fault. If I could see you now I'd hug you and tell you how sorry I am, and that I don't really know what to do or who I am right now but I'm trying anyway. I never imagined that we'd end up this way, or that I'd be where I am right now. I know you've found love with someone else and all I can think is how much you deserve someone who's better than me. How were you ever supposed to love me when I can't love myself?, when deep down I'm so fundamentally twisted up inside. You have a good heart to have ever been able to love someone like me. You probably don't think too kindly of me these days, the only person to blame for that is me. These days I don't know if I'll ever be able to stand on my own two feet again. We talk now and then, but I don't know if I've let on how beaten out of the race I really am. So many ""what ifs"" run through my brain everyday; ""What if I hadn't gotten sick?"" "" What if I'd been more patient"" ""What if I wasn't scared."" We both wish I could just leave it in the past and move forward, but I just can't. I'm too afraid. I miss coming home to you, I miss watching movies, just talking in the shower and going for walks through the nice end of town. I miss how we'd snuggle close to each other before falling asleep, how your legs and arms would get cold so you'd curl around me. I miss when it was just me and you under blankets in the backs of cars and listening to songs from the 80's. I miss you calling me late at night to ask if I wanted to go smoke cigars in the rain and then waiting for me to kiss you. All of that seems so far away now, like a dream, like something that never happened. I've lost you, you're so far away now, and I'm so afraid that I'm losing myself too. All I feel is guilt, anger and remorse, it's only fitting that I'm the source of my own misery. I'm cold, bitter, and a worse man than I was before, maybe I've always been worse. I really hope you find real happiness, and no matter what happens to me, if I don't pull myself back, and can never stand by on my own again, it's not because of you."
s_2139_54,"I have Hypomania. I also only had 5k overall and I spent 4k of it on food and clothes. My sleep is terrible to the point my body crashes and I even fainted yesterday. My irritability sometimes makes me want to hurt someone. I will go from happy and energetic to depressed the next day. So yeah no we are not all bipolar. But im glad I have a good therapist, family and God because without them I would not be here."
s_2958_226,"because I feel guilty and embarrassed. I know I'm responsible, but more is it objectively a result of the depression. I was never like this when not depressed. I guess I'm just trying to figure out where that behaviour came from and to hear other people's experience with it."
s_1193_388,"This isn't a PM right? Others can see this? One of the people I've been talking to is my mom, actually. I'm 36, she's 70, but alcoholism runs in our family and I know she takes antidepressants. Her house was the closest to where the incident occurred, and I (somehow) managed to make it that far, walk in, and collapse on the ground sobbing. But after awhile, I did tell her, ""I faced my suicide today. And, the silver lining is, I said no."" As I said it's not making me happy. But there is a relief. So um, follow up, and this part's still being processed kinda. I live in a semi-rural area, and my job involves a lot of driving, and winter and all that bullshit. That's what lead to the event. And I had another job. Less than 24 hours later. ( Late edit for context: it was about another 100 miles of driving.) I called my mom. I told her, I need you to do this for me, but I will be lying down in the back seat, under a blanket the whole time. Because, if I can't get through that, I might never drive again. ( This is part of my depression post - why blame myself for all I need help for?) Mostly got through it. There was a total panic attack near catastrophe, but also another good thought. I was lying down in the back seat of a car. Under a blanket. Not driving. Not seeing. I was not in control, of anything. And I realized, there are always going to be things I am not in control of, like a meth-head semitruck driver nearly killing me. But, there are also other things I'm not in control of, that I can be in control of."
s_2415_738,What if I don't want to live anymore? I just don't think I would like to live anymore. It all seems like an illusion and I just don't see any point.
s_313_951,"[Title Game] Gnarly Wipe Out, Hang Loose Brah My cousin Larry and I are from Oregon. Going to the beach is a bit of a production there. It isn't what the typical person pictures in their mind when they think of the word ""beach."" There's sand and water, but the similarities stop there. You can rarely see the sun through the thick fog, and instead of a bikini, you're more likely to find yourself wearing cold weather gear. But Larry wanted to learn to surf, so I rented a wetsuit and strapped a board on top of my car. I'm sure I looked ridiculous driving there. He struggled into the stretchy neoprene. It caused his arms to stick out at his sides a little like a doll. He looked so ridiculous. He started running toward the water. ""Hey Lar! Forgetting something?"" I said, pointing toward the surfboard still strapped to my car. He looked ridiculous, heading to the water holding a board that was twice as long as he was tall. I stopped him for a photo. "" Say, 'Hang loose, brah!'"" ""Hang loose bra!"" He giggled, and held up some unrelated gang sign. I took the picture. His smile faded, and he howled as his suit filled with the frigid water. It took him a long time to paddle the big board into the breakers. I could see him getting tired right away. I doubted he was having fun anymore now that he knew how much work this was going to be. When I saw a larger swell pushing up and rising over his small shape, I tried to yell to him. The riptides had been pushing him closer and closer to the rocky jetty. His board raised above him, overbalanced and toppled him. I saw the board, but I couldn't find him in the frothy wave. I waited a full minute. It felt like forever. Then I was scrambling up the rocks and out along the jetty. I just had to find him. Barnacles cut into my fingertips and salt water sprayed across my back. I was roughly to where I'd seen him. The white board was all the way to the beach already, floating with the fin in the air like a beached animal. I still couldn't see him or anything else under the dark water. The waves slapped against the rocks and sent spray flying into the air. Then I heard a scratching coming from underneath me, inside the large rocks. Sure enough, an opening appeared in a lull between waves. I tried to stick my head in and look inside. I saw a foot, and a little white hand. I dove after him. My clothes, wallet, phone, I didn't care. All that mattered was saving Larry. He might have weighed a thousand pounds of dead weight. Blood ran freely from his forehead, and his skin was all a sickly blue-tinted white. I clawed muscles and barnacles from the rocks trying to scurry my way up away from the accursed ocean. Larry's dead weight pitched me off balance and caused me to lose my footing. As I fell back into the ocean and a wave swept us apart, I realized that there were people on top of the jetty, watching. I screamed to them as I broke the surface. I found Larry again, but just as I reached him, another wave swept us under. I just managed to hold onto his leg this time. I was starting to get tired. My jacket was tangling my arms, and the hiking boots that I wore made it so that I had to kick twice as much to stay afloat. Larry looked dead. Then my foot touched the sandy bottom. I pushed him forward toward the beach. With my last remaining strength I dragged him out of the water. I was too cold to cry. Too tired to think. I pounded my fists on his chest. People gathered around me. I heard one of them say ridiculously, ""That was a gnarly wipe out."" A man in a dirty yellow slicker mumbled ""Down with the ship."" ""Help me!"" I screamed, but no one would come closer. They just watched from the edge of the circle. There was something wrong with their faces. They looked too much like Larry. Their skin was too blue. Too slack and lifeless...
Then someone was screaming and running toward us. An elderly man took in the image of Larry, before wrapping me in strong arms and tearing me away. He forced me to get warm. The circle of others were gone. It was fifteen minutes before anyone else came to the beach. The man who rescued me stayed with me until the paramedics came. He told me ""There was nothing you could have done."" ""Nothing I could have done? What about all those other people who just stood there and watched?"" ""You don't want to be talking about those others, ma'am,"" he said, seriously. The doors of the ambulance closed and I was carried away."
s_2008_331,"I have sleep paralysis almost every night. Sometimes it includes a demon of sorts and sometimes it's just the paralysis. There's been times where it's a guy that's about as big as Arnold Schwarzenegger back in the eighties. He usually hides in the corner of the room dry humping a bed that only exists with him. He wears a hat like a drill sergeant. Other times it's an evil presence without any shadow or physical appearance. The evil presence is always accompanied by a feeling of something weighing me down like pressure on my chest. There's been times where it's a shadow that whispers my name. I end up asking my wife if it was her though really I know what it was. When this happens I watch comedy on Netflix to clear my mind and get back to sleep. I discovered new (to me) comedians like John Pinette with this method. I'm not sure if it's related to sleep paralysis, but I have dreams accompanied by sleep paralysis like symptoms at the end of a dream. Such dreams involve me living life as usual and suddenly I'm transported to a different place. This place is usually a desert and it's usually dark. I can only see about a five foot radius around myself and everything else is pitch black but not like night black but sharpie marker black. I just start floating around and of course I find it fun... at first. Then I float to this area that has like prison bars behind me. I can't control the floating anymore and it's creepy. I then hear a little kid's voice whispering and screaming all at once. The kid is whisper screaming ""help me, please!"" "" Please help!"" I turn around and behind the bars is a little kid, terrified. The kid's eyes are just eye sockets and blood drips down from the sockets. I scream a very high pitched scream that can be heard in the waking world. It's a scream I can not mimic while awake. Before my wife wakes me up, I'm paralysed the same as when I have a more standard sleep paralysis episode."
s_2437_0,"Up late Thought I'd post Im 17 years old going into my senior year in high school. The past years of high school have been rough. Freshman year most of my friends went off to hang out with other cliques and shit and started acting like dicks (HIGHSCHOOL WOW). In the winter of my sophomore year I got diagnosed with fucking type 1 diabetes. I'm to embarrassed to tell anyone I'm diabetic which leads to me not taking insulin for days on end. After I got hit with diabetes about two years ago I really stopped giving a fuck. I started smoking weed and drinking shortly after getting it, my grades went to shit too. As soon as I discovered weed I knew I was gonna be hooked. It was the easiest way to get rid of all of my problems temporarily and I loved it, I was smoking 4 times a day by that summer. In my head I knew getting diabetes triggered all this drug use and shit but I really didn't care, I never really valued myself before I got diagnosed but the way I saw it getting diabetes was my excuse to get away with a ton of shit. My parents first caught me with weed a week after I smoked for the first time. They drug tested me and then took my shit, my Dad whooped my ass and then screamed at me to never do it again. I promised him I wouldn't but I was fucking lying right through my teeth. I was so fucking mad the first time I got caught, I felt like I never got my turn to actually experiment with weed before I got caught. Getting caught by my parents triggered a whole downward cycle. They would catch me like once every two weeks after that and I was grounded 24/7. Obviously I wasn't going to stop smoking weed so I could be ungrounded so, I constantly snuck out and ran away to go get drunk or high with my friends. This went on for about 6 months and as time went on my relationship with my parents got worse. To the point where my mom refused to speak to me for a week after I didn't confess to stealing $500 from her wallet (money that was supposed to be spent on my Dad for his birthday. I'm such a piece of shit I know). Last January I ran away one evening and took 25i NBOME (pretty much fake lsd- I thought It was real at the time) and had a horrible trip. During the trip I felt like my life was stuck in the same 1 hour loop for eternity along with some other scary shit. Afterwards though I was fucking losing my mind. My ego was completely shattered and all I wanted to do when I got home was apologies to my parents and cry with my Mom. I though I had given myself brain damage so after coming clean to my parents I vowed to stay sober and rebuild my relationship with my parents (no brain damage though). My Mom put me in therapy that February and I started taking anti anxiety meds soon after. I thought that if I cleaned up my act it would help me understand more about who I am but that didn't work at all and after suffering for two months sober I started doing drugs again last April. It's July now. Im still stealing from my parents to buy weed. I hate myself completely but I don't care about myself enough to fix anything. My parents are really pushing my to go to collage but I'm really not interested at all. I feel as if this is all being forced upon me and I don't get a say. All my parents seem to care about is getting me into a collage so they can go brag to their fucking friends about me. They make me so fucking mad. I'm still in therapy but it really isn't helping. My parents caught me again and I got into a huge fight with my Dad where I ended up running away, stealing a 40 oz from 711 and sleeping on a park bench. My parents I just don't care about anything in anymore. My life is meaningless, all life is in general. It's impossible for anyone to be content ever. I feel that because I'm aware of the sad reality of this world i'll never be able to be happy. I don't want to pick a career, I don't want to go to collage and I really don't want to live anymore. The only thing stopping me from jumping off a bridge one night is my irrational fear that when we die we stay in our bodies unable to move or communicate. Thus leaving me stuck inside a box for all of eternity. That wouldn't explain what would happen to people who are cremated though. I digress
This may sorta come out funny cuz I just wrote this while alone and drunk in my basement. I am a complete nobody with no interests no skills and no motivation to do anything about it. normally reread my reddit posts but im too drunk for that shit sorry for spelling
TL;DR: I'm a self destructive idiot who feels sorry for himself."
s_993_127,"My family has a history of mental illness my father is schizophrenic and manic but he never attempted suicide . He had a habit of saying suicidal thoughts that he would never act upon. I started having those thoughts when I turned 13 they were quiet whispers not so debilitating. I was physically abused by a relative at a party around that time. I don't know when the thought started but they might have been a trigger. I treated them as normal seeing my father always saying those things. I was a very introverted and secretive as a child. My parents never knew what was going on in my mind my friends even less. So I never told my parents about the abuse but it ate me up. I turned 17 failed to to get into medical school I tried to kill myself by overdosing on my father's sleeping pills. A year later I tried again this time it was to escape the debilitating suicidal thoughts, the mood swings, all that pain. I just wanted an escape . My parents and my brother were heartbroken and made me promise to never do it again . After that 10 years of pain ups and downs extreme suicidal thoughts . I spent months planning suicide treating suicide as a backup plan but never doing it just because I was scared to fail again and face my family. I researched percentage of suicide survival. Later on I just wanted to stop existing. It all went downhill last year I could not even get up from my bed. I moved in with my parents spent 2 months lying in my bed not sleeping properly not eating at all. My parents dragged me to see the psychiatrist and he diagnosed me bipolar. I didn't believe him went to second one who said the same thing. I was against the meds I never took them seeing the side effects my father had. My parents forced this time to take meds. I am on them right now after years of constant suicidal thoughts my brain is silent now. I still doubt my diagnosis though. I still feel paranoid that the meds I am taking might make it worse for me later. But joining this sub made me realize there are others out there fighting the same battles I am fighting. This sub forces me to trust the diagnosis and keep taking the meds."
s_1065_733,"Florida Governor Working on Omicron: It is Heather O'Rourke? As long as you recognize the symptoms fast and we contribute much more goodness. So, how does one begin a boycott by the left in order to focus on anything except pmo. 40:52 - If you have a funny way to prevent botulism or to destroy the spores. You need another way to warping the idea that men are disposable is predicated on the border? Why are these people were separated from these misinformation. The angle of each facet of a prism and paired with another precision facet of a rant. The DOD, USAF and Military Industrial complex for their time and it was December 18th when health officials alerted the public. If you are indeed free to find their passions or find better ways to contribute to society than busting a nut. This is a way that is possible. Dehydration: Heating, salting, smoking, freeze drying, or just genuinely talking to our names. I feel lukewarm and it breaks my heart of hearts and put my 5 Harmony in wasnt showing off. Belief that the groups Executive Committee approved paying for certain reasons, but I have written a post last week about DCA strategy and the sorts. Hitler would be a false flag operation. Going to my boyfriend and he was completely fine with it. Reading it , they say that we have to pay for it by taxes and higher insurance premiums. Here is a serious problem the nation need to know what you are a poor guide. I am honestly feeling and I'm deeply afraid for my future. I have no one knows today and thus going to lose all support if I do, but Im not saying I think it's likely to happen, but I still fall."
s_1551_98,"Im tired of living in the past I cant help it, the guilt and the shame are too much. I feel like such a failure of a man, its pathetic. I wish I could just have amnesia and start over"
s_1673_71,"It's not unusual to see my cry, I wanna die :("
s_174_66,"This is beautiful. I'm crying right now. Smart too, people were probably afraid to buy anything that could be reprinted for the next 3 weeks before this."
s_8_309,"this is the worst i've felt in months. i truly want to die. right now, commit suicide. maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but im done and im killing myself sooner or later."
s_1551_0,"Feeling guilty, regretful, and ashamed over what feels like a wasted 5 years I just really need to say something, its eating me up and I have nowhere else to turn. So here it is, 5 years ago soon after I graduated high school I suffered a lower back injury from weight lifting. It was the only thing I had that gave me confidence, after a few months I started to feel depressed. I spent months laid up in bed, after finally getting a bone scan after 6 months the doctor told me I was healed and that I needed to do planks to feel better but I didnt care by then. After the next 6 months I tried to distract myself, or find reasons to try to motivate me to rehab that injury but nothing really worked. I tried the planks a little at some point and felt somewhat better, fooled myself into thinking I could handle workout routines I used to do, 0-60 real quick instead of pacing myself and just kept hurting myself every time. Idk why, ego? Damaged pride? Parents never understood every time I tried to say I felt mentally and physically unwell and that I didnt know what to do, and they just kept saying get a job as if that was a cure all. I tried hanging out with friends and drinking, which ended up injuring my knee one night. Eventually friends all went separate ways over the years and Ive felt alone for so long. I was ashamed of not working like everyone else my age but just felt incapable of doing it, I felt more helpless than ever. Parents kept preaching at me about work, I eventually tried a job for a year to just get away from my parents most of the day and to see if that would finally motivate me properly. i was always mentally and physically tired, unmotivated and slowly over time that toxic workplace made me feel like my best was never enough. I quit and told myself I saved up enough money to get me by until I was going to address these injuries and finally move on with my life. During this time the girl I was seeing of 5 months eventually cheated on me. And after 4 months of sulking over her I had sex with a different girl to try and make me forget about her, which led to getting molluscum contagiosum on my genitals but at the time I feared it was something far worse. I was 20 and felt like my life was over before it really got started, I was so scared ashamed and embarrassed. I felt defeated again and again no matter what I did. Gave up, lost hope. But then I mustered up what little courage I had left to go to the doctor, they said they could only do bloodwork and couldnt do physical exams, and that I should go elsewhere to get it looked at. But i wasnt thinking straight, just shaking from the fear and embarrassment. All I could think about was leaving as soon as possible and shutting myself back in my house. I was already there and told her about it, I said just take the blood. I didnt even want to consider more people knowing about it. Results came back a month or so later, everything was negative so it was nothing serious and that relieved me a bit. So I spent weeks on webmd trying to self diagnose myself instead of getting a physical exam like I should have. I just didnt want to be seen at all because I was so ashamed. So I fooled myself into thinking If I wait maybe itll go away in a few months like webmd says and so I waited. A few months pass and its almost my 21st birthday and I was so lonely, no one tried to ever talk to me or see how I was. Felt like my parents gave up on me, almost felt like strangers in the same house, and the rest of my family isnt that close. I stayed inside for almost a year not really doing anything but watching porn, using internet and playing video games. I had no sense of urgency or concept of time, I didnt value or appreciate anything. I didnt care. I couldnt try to reach out to anyone because I felt like there wasnt anyone I could reach to, and Ive never been good about opening up in the first place about personal things. It almost felt like I wasnt real, like nothing was. And everything felt impossible, even the smallest tasks felt like a chore. I hated myself for being so weak and not being strong enough to to the right things. I just couldnt, idk why. I felt like a disappointment and a burden. Sometimes I felt like my suffering wasnt enough to say I was depressed and felt like a loser hiding behind an excuse. I was numb. Time flew by in a blur, after I turned 21 something in me just snapped and I felt, hysterical? I felt like this wasnt right, that it shouldnt be like this. As if something had to be done. A realization that nobody was coming to save me and I had to start thinking and doing for myself. I needed change. I immediately went and got those pesky bumps taken care of, though it took a little longer than it should have. But after that I felt so stupid for being sacred about it all those months prior. I took this realization into 2019, and started trying to finally fix my body. There were set backs, those pains got worse because I sat around for a year doing nothing. And I had stomach pains I never had before that wouldnt go away for over a month, these things discouraged me a bit and that helplessness started to return. My grandmother passed away around this time and it didnt really hurt, so much as it reminded me that life is short and could end at anytime. And that I should try things more and over think less. I went to the doctor again and got checked out, I got a job for a month and got laid off, I tried dating again but ended things early on. These things made me feel alive again, short yet taught me so much compared to previous years. I realized I have so much more of myself to work on and live for. And after delaying it for awhile I set up my wisdom tooth surgery. After the surgery I found that I have courage. And finally around my 22nd birthday I started to workout and rehab my body, and still currently am (unfortunately taking longer than I had hoped). Still feel like I shouldnt work yet until Ive prioritized and ironed out things mentally and physically. Slowly after each little victory my mental health got better. Only in recent months have I started to see and think clearly for the first time in my life, I have genuine confidence. Things that once seemed impossible seem possible. However, like the title says, with this clarity I only am now seeing how I couldve did things differently. How it shouldve been, how if maybe I did 1 or 2 things different maybe things wouldve been better sooner. Maybe Id be further along in life. Im seeing all my old classmates moving on, and here I am stuck in the same place from 5 years ago. Guilt, shame, regret over wasted time. Lost experiences and opportunities in my youth. All I want to do is make up for it, if I can. Im eager and ready, but my body isnt. And the last thing I want is to rush out before it is. And its frustrating. I feel like Im on a time table, and just want to live hard and fast but cant because Im still limited. I wish I wouldve prioritized my body sooner, so I couldve worked more, saved more money and had more options. I dont want to be a failure anymore. I dont know how to quit dwelling on the past, its like Im constantly grieving. Anyways, if you made it all the way through this thank you for taking the time to read my story"
s_2292_572,"I'm really glad you posted this for a couple of reasons:
* 1. It's awesome
* 2. It actually brings me back to my original point (which is a bit of a logic bomb, since you addressed it in the post itself, but here goes nothing)
Ever since you put this post up, I've been staring at it and skimming over it, but couldn't bring myself to actually read it from start to finish, even though I know, like I said, it's a great post. I think if God were depressed, he'd look for something like this to help him get through it. I digress, however. The way I reacted to this post, considering how counterintuitive my reaction was, angers me greatly. I live in constant fear of panic attacks and severe depressive episodes (or at least *more* severe than my normal mood), so I never take risks. Not even small ones, like reading an epic post on Reddit about how I can beat my depression. It angers me because it affects my entire life, including any attempts I might try to make to actually overcome depression. Depression might be an asshole, but it's a *brilliant* one-- it's a disease that affects people in such a way that it becomes incredibly difficult to cure it. A good analogy, in my opinion, would be if the only way to cure a severely sore throat (I'm talkin burning, scorching, ""Oh my God, did I drink a lava and magma smoothie this morning?"" sore) was to swallow a painkiller that severely hurts your throat. That would suck, wouldn't it? And who knows if it would even work? You'd have to take the chance that you might all but destroy your throat just to try fixing it, and you might put yourself in exponentially more pain than you're already in. And for nothing if it doesn't work. That's what I go through. Anything I can do to try to help myself makes me feel like I'm cutting bomb wires. Unfortunately, this isn't a movie, so an explosion is far more likely than a stroke of luck accompanied by dramatic music as I miraculously cut the right wire. I've had one panic attack in my life. I'll never forget it. It was terrible. There's no reason to really go into more detail-- I'm sure you can imagine (if you haven't had the misfortune of experiencing one yourself). Ever since then, I've lived my life around the fear of going through that again. That's why I struggle to get out of bed and get in the shower. Or go out and look for a job. Or exercise. Or travel anywhere outside of walking distance. The people around me don't help, either. I don't know why I talk about this to people who just make it worse (maybe I'm that desperate for someone to talk to?), but I hear words like ""lazy"" and ""unappreciative"" and ""worthless."" I don't think I'm any of those things. I think ""unmotivated"" or ""scared"" describes me better. But hey, I could be wrong. I'm also *incredibly* sensitive, and a lot of people think the best cure for depression is tough love. That's not true-- not for everyone. I'd much rather have a pat on the back and an ""It's going to be okay"" than being yelled at by a drill sergeant. Unfortunately, there aren't too many people willing to be the former, and there are a lot of people willing to be the latter. It's like people are angry at me for being depressed, and that just angers *me* even more. Oh, and here's another kicker. Since I'm so sensitive and enjoy it when I get a pat on the back, here's what happens on the rare occasions I'm actually happy: It makes me depressed. ""Well, that doesn't make any sense..."" No, it doesn't. But I know why it happens. If I'm happy at all for any length of time, people might think I'm happy all the time, and I won't get the support I want. That scares me, because I know I can go from moderately content to severely depressed in an instant, and people in general are not really willing to deal with mood swings. "" You were just happy, why the fuck are you all pissy now? I don't have time for this, leave me alone."" So what does this mean? It means two things:
* 1. When I'm depressed, I'm depressed. When I'm happy, I'm depressed. Just for a different reason. Think about *that*. I don't even know what else to say."
s_356_95,"Its just hard because i push all the people i love away and isolate myself. I cant look them in the eyes. Im not who they think i am and i am ashamed that im this way. I feel terrible that i live a lie and act that im better for their sake. Im dying inside. Ive been thinking about killing myself for a long time and have tried before. I have always failed. The only reason i am alive is so i dont disappoint my family. I dont want to pain them, but its so hard to continue living. Therapy is just so hard for me. It takes a lot out of me to talk to a therapist since i cope by trying to hold it in and distract myself."
s_1061_1689,aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand now i'm crying all over again.
s_2959_19,"I HAVE A TRACK RECORD OF TAKING UP THINGS AND NEVER FINISHING THEM. I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT IN MY LIFE. TAKING UP SO MANY THINGS, WITH SO MUCH MOVITAION AND SO MANY GOOD IDEAS AND INTENTIONS. BUT AFTER A WHILE I SLOW DOWN, AND SETTLE DOWN ON A MEDIOCRE LEVEL IN ALL OF THEM. I WALK IN THE LIBRARY OF LIFE WITHOUT LOOKING INTO ANY OF ITS BOOKS KEENLY. I'M ASHAMED TO TELL YOU GUYS THAT THERE IS SO SINGLE THING IN MY LIFE TILL NOW THAT I EXCELLED IN. REASON: **MEDIOCRITY**. MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH IT. I FEEL LIKE A FUCKING SHIT, BROTHERS.** I TOOK UP THE PREPARATION OF AN EXAM THAT I LOST INTEREST TO STUDY. I'M UNABLE TO FUCKING PUT MY MIND TO PRODUCTIVE WORK. IN THE PAST FEW MONTHS THERE IS NO DAMN THING THAT I REMEMBER TO HAVE ACCOMPLISHED. I'M FUCKING HATING MYSELF."
s_2815_562,"Haha guys my parents think I'm a virgin but Im kinda, like... not lol. Yeah so for those who dont know me Im Madison. I told a [story about my stupid sister](<URL> sh=d65e3411), then [my gross brother](<URL> sh=33e9ea48), then my [poor hot gay friend Kevin](<URL> sh=30c286c6). If you dont know those stories, I kinda hate you because theyre really important and like who the h*ck do you think you are coming in here and acting like youre going to read about my first time and not care about the other things that are happening in my life? You should go, like, assistant manage a small diner or something just as sad lol. Omg anyway guess what? IM GONNA TELL YOU A STORY!! :D
This is gonna sound soooooo creepy and weird but youll read it anyway because Im awesome and its fun to read stuff about people who are better than you lol. Omg btw I love Katniss Evergreen. But yeah dont worry its not like it was my uncle or anything gross like a dog or hippo or something. Ok so maybe like 18 months ago this really cute guy snuck into my room. You know how vampires have to get invited into your room before they can come in your room and visit you in your room? Yeah this wasnt like that because he wasnt a vampire. This guy just kinda came in through the window and sat on the side of my bed. I was like what are you doing here and got all mad because I didnt have my hair right and I was wearing my ugly fleecy pants instead of my hot fleecy pants and he was okay looking but not like stupid Kevins hot dumb brainless head but I didnt know Kevin back then so he was better than okay I guess. I wanted to call Dad to come beat the guy up but there was something about him that was kinda cool. He was like gray like a rock or a cloud or gay poetry stuff and had cool red eyes and a really big mouth. He started rubbing my hair which was annoying but I couldnt move for some reason then he whispered in my ear:
Madison youre going to be a mom someday. Then his fingers got really long and skinny and he put them behind my eyes. I was like um gross and no thank you but I didnt say it because I still couldnt move and then everything got all dark and I woke up kinda sore and stuff. And ew not there. And thats the story! You guys are lucky Im good at setting a mood otherwise that wouldve seemed even weirder and creepier than it was. But yeah, that was my first time with the gray man. Wanna know why Im telling you all this? Obv you do lol. Welllllllllllllllllll GUYS IM GONNA BE A MOM!!! Ok ok ok you cant tell my parents but its not like they can see the little baby yet anyway because its growing behind my eyes but I can already feel its tiny little hands pushing on the eye cords or whatever theyre called. Good thing Im not ticklish lol. Theres only one person I told and thats poor gay Kevin so I could make him feel jealous but he just kinda drooled and said uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh because hes annoying but so hot but I know he wished he was the one who put it in me and not the gray man. Its funny because Id forgotten all about the gray man until the little baby started growing over the weekend! Itd been years and I thought babies were made in nine months and in a uterus but mine is gonna be cool so thats why its different. Another weird thing - Ive always always always hated babies! I was so happy when my little brother died and until he came back I had to hear him crying and stuff every time I bent his knee back when Mom or Dad wasnt looking. But now, Im so excited to be a mom. What could be better than another little Madison running around? Literally nothing, thats what. Im going to be the coolest mom. Ill let my baby have parties and vape and talk to Black God and wear whatever she wants and never have to learn Spanish if she doesnt want. Check this out - when Gina died it was exactly one year after the gray man came to visit. I never even connected that! I was so excited to have my bedroom all to myself I didnt even think of the dates being the same! Btw guys it is SO COOL to still have a room to myself and I wont even mind sharing with the baby. But yeah at school I didnt want to tell people about the baby except Kevin but get this! Karen said something bad about my hair and said it wasnt really blonde but brown like Im an Italian or something and I got real mad and all of the sudden a little baby hand came out of my eye and cut Karens throat open lol. NOBODY saw it happen, either! Karen was laughing at me and then her neck was all shooting blood and stuff and she died and everyone was sad and I pretended to be sad but I wasnt sad even though I have to go to a little vigil and say Im sad. Im so not sad. My baby is awesome and Im so glad the gray man put it in me. I just dont know when Im going to tell my parents. It seems like theyre [never home anymore](<URL>)."
s_2139_79,"PTSD and Bipolar Disorder I had a meeting with my therapist and was shocked to learn that my numbness and repressed feelings was ptsd. Because of the traumatic experiences I faced as a kid I ended up not wanting to feel certain emotions at all. I have lots of depressive episodes. But I never cry, no matter how sad. And when I do, I get surprised. Does anyone else deal with emotional numbness as a result of PTSD?"
s_1551_239,"Can depression cause low sex drive? I have been dealing with low self esteem and low confidence for a long time. I have this feeling like I want to have more sex but I just dont feel good enough or ready to get back out there. Ive spent the better part of 2 years trying to focus on self improvement and only had sex twice in that time, both times I just didnt get as excited as I used to. Should I just force myself into it more? Im only 23 man.."
s_1082_1,"So sad, I cry every time."
s_2007_780,I feel f!cking terrible I tried not to cry at school so i guess I'll be crying at home. Some things didn't go the way I wanted them. Idk if it's too late or I can change it. I know I have to be calm and wait for it but those emotions eat me alive. You can give your laughing award now. Actually can you make jokes about this ? I don't like being that sad.
s_568_565,"The Snipet is from hearing of the tape they made killing their last victim, 16 yrs old shirley lynette ledford. These torture/rape sessions didn't last a couple of hours. Some of these girls were held for days, tortured non-stop. The 5th victim Lynette Ledford, the one who is on the audio tape, was physically destroyed. Norris wasn't even able to commit his rape because Bittaker inserted his pliers inside her vaginal and anal cavities and literally ripped her apart. He was doing that on the audio tape. I've never heard a human being scream in pain like I heard on that tape. For those who want to hear it, TRUST ME, you DON'T. I'm not squeamish, I've seen some terrible things. I've seen some of Maury Travis' videos of his murders. But the Ledford tape is in a category all its own. I wish I never heard it. Of the 25 students in my criminology class only 3 of us stayed in the room. Many dropped the class. Others vomited. It's 18 minutes of the most unbelievably brutal acts imaginable. I don't have many regrets in my life. But I seriously regret listening to that tape. I wish I could get it out of my head. No matter how I try to describe the tape it's not really possible. The fact that a human being did this to another is too much. Bittaker not only LOVED what he did, he listened to the tape constantly and even let neighborhood kids hear it. They reportedly thought it was fake. That's what gets you, that it sounds like a fake ""Hollywood"" actress screaming. But it's real. It makes perfect sense that the FBI uses the tape to train new agents. It's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever experienced. I don't cry often but I don't mind saying I cried like a baby, almost uncontrollably. It's not an experience I'd wish on anyone. I bet Bittaker would enjoy hearing that this tape has caused 35 years of sadness and pain to anyone who hears it. If anyone on Earth deserves the death penalty it's Bittaker. The only problem would be that he could only die once. There is a special place reserved for him in hell."
s_1276_718,This chapter hit a lot harder emotionally than the others. I think it's because it provided a clearer picture of how hard it is to remember a loved one who drastically changed towards the end of their life. This made me listen to Hospice by The Antlers. Now I'm depressed.
s_1767_318,I fucking failed no nut november I'm a fucking useless piece of shit i failed once again because it's the only way of being happy I just fucking can't
s_1404_76,im depressed . my close friends left me im depressed . i cant get a girlfriend im depressed . i enjoy nothing in life im depressed . my health is going down im depressed . study is not going well
s_1435_302,Sleeping is how also how I tune it all out and escape my thoughts. I can easily sleep 12-15 hrs a day when super depressed. Its easier than being awake.
s_2697_2,"I always thought that I should blame myself for what's happening before I blame other people, but I don't know if that's just because I was raised to do that or not. I feel very guilty for not loving my family and sometimes I don't think other people understand why. I did make a small post before about dealing with my siblings and someone told me that I was likely the problem and that I was making them walk on eggshells around me and behave the way they do because I probably have something wrong with me, and that I should love them no matter what. I ended up feeling very conflicted about it. I feel like my siblings have been using me and are cruel to me but that I deserve it and that everyone expects me to love them regardless. I feel similarly about my parents and it's so confusing. With all the useful advice people have given me I'm starting to write out a plan so that I can finally live for myself and at least experience some of the things I've always dreamt about. I can't thank everyone enough for caring, even if they are complete strangers. I've never really had anyone support me or care for me before."
s_984_45,"I've been detached from games, movies, and pretty much all the shit I really enjoy for a little while. LiS is in a weird place for me where I remember the game meaning a lot to me, I remember it making me feel things, and I remember having learned things from it, but right now I can't remember what they actually were. I've considered replaying the game, maybe refreshing my memory, but (like with other games I used to play often) I can't really bring myself to do it. I think my gaming days might be kind of over. Or I'm just being dramatic. Such is life I suppose."
s_18_228,"My friends, I have made a horrible mistake. [ Small Spoilers] I'm playing through New Story+... Or I was. As we know, we get to keep all the upgrades and goodies from the previous playthrough. I get to the point where you go to Founder's Island for the Blimps. I take out the nearby watchtower then re-obtain the RHD. I decide, ""While I'm here, might as well take out the other watchtowers and sky drones."" I decimate the watch towers and wipe out all the serpent drones. I come to specific copter drone who's light is trained on the rooftop of a building. Without thinking, I hit it with a disruptor round then walk into it's light. Malfunction. No more drone. Skip ahead a bit. Get to the point where I'm about to take out the Arkham Knight's two radars. Hijack the nearby drone for the part to blind drones with the RHD. Fuck fuck. NOOOOOOOO!!!!! The game requires me to blind the drone that is watching the Radar. The exact one I destroyed earlier. And I can't do anything now. I can't jump to the Radar. I can't blind a drone. I can't grapple. Can't use any other gadgets. I can only look onward at the Radar just [83 M] away and weep. I was 48% done with this playthrough. And now I'm sad."
s_1951_245,"I've made 30 hours CT :) I'm really proud of myself! It certainly wasn't easy but I'm so glad to be through the first brunt of the withdrawals. Especially as a week ago I went CT on caffeine too! I did find that I couldn't manage them both at once, but the one-week stagger seems doable, for me. I'm looking forward to getting through the next couple of days. Did not feel up to going to the gym today and my quality of work has certainly taken a dip but I'm being kind to myself as this is obv a real shock to the system and we can't be expected to operate as usual whilst acclimatizing! :)"
s_888_1808,Prayer please! I start a job tommorow! A couple of days ago I asked for prayer for an interview I was going for but I struggled with anxiety. I would link the thread but I can't find it. Well I had a call the other day and I got it! Still anxious of course it is tearing me up. Pray that its a good start and I also get to a prayer meeting after my first day. Thanks in advance!
s_2456_769,"Asexuality isn't quite as clear cut as it seems. Everyone varies. But to answer your question, I personally lack sexual attraction and a lack of sexual drive. It's quite hard to explain. I can elaborate when I get home if you want? Typing on a phone is kind of awful"
s_804_708,"But the upside is his biggest Tumor went from 11mm to 4, so were having an outside day today to celebrate it! Its more the side effects that are stressful, less the cancer itself. The numbness in his fingers and feet are what bother him most and it took him the longest for me to convince to wear a mask. Hes the same as me and gets rashes sometimes but I think his is more related to the treatment. Its a tough place to be in all around for everyone and I think most people are incredibly on edge and I dont blame you at all. I blame everything happening thats making everyone super ... I guess irritable is the right word. Im personally tired of all the grocery workers being shit on by entitled pricks. I speak up every time I hear it because it makes me so fucking mad."
s_1514_921,"So I thought I ate a spider in my sleep... I remembered that half-awake moment of confusion very vividly. I groaned, blinked, and moved my mouth around as I blearily stared up at the dark ceiling. There was some sort of weird hair or something on my lip pulling at it, I felt a subtle slippery tug in my throat, and it took another three seconds to slide the whole thread out. Disgusted and confused, I held it up to the sliver of moonlight coming in the window. What the hell was this thing? Some unknown girl's hair? No - it was wispier than that, more reflective, and a little stickier
I felt suddenly queasy as the thought occurred to me that this was probably a silken spider thread. Had I just eaten a spider in my sleep? Jesus christ! I got up that night, refusing to go back to sleep, but the day's light dispelled my silly fears. If I *had* eaten a spider, it was long dead by now thanks to the stomach acid generously donated by my night-long anxiety. A few weeks passed, and I mostly forgot about the incident. I noticed that, very slowly, I began having trouble exercising at my usual rate. I was sleeping worse, and groggy even when I did sleep. I thought that it might just be the season, or allergies, and I tried to ignore it until I fell asleep at work, and my boss sternly told me to go the doctor. I was never one for the doctor, but I was tired of being tired, so I finally manned up and went. I sat in the stark white office waiting for quite some time. I figured the doctor probably wouldn't have any answers for me - they never seemed to care enough to pursue individual mysteries - but I *was* hoping for a prescription or something. I sat still as the nurse did all the usual tests - blood pressure, pulse, and so on. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She left, and I waited some more. Finally, the doctor walked in, and greeted me without looking. She asked about my symptoms, nodded a bit, and then used a stethoscope to listen to my chest. That's when she frowned. "" It might be allergies, or even asthma. Sounds a bit scratchy in there."" ""That's what I thought,"" I told her. "" I've been wracking my brain. Hell, for awhile, I even thought it was a spider I ate."" She glanced up at me, making eye contact for the first time. "" You ate a spider?"" ""In my sleep, I think."" She hesitated. "" There's this new spider infestation. African, I think. We've had a couple bad reactions to bites. Total longshot here, but if it bit your esophagus or stomach, you wouldn't feel it, but you could still have a reaction. Let's get a soft tissue scan done."" Confused and worried, but hopeful, I followed her advice and went to the next building over in the complex for the scan. The hour queue allowed me to fill out every form and exhaust every magazine in the small waiting room before they finally called me up. I followed the attendant warily into the imaging room. I'd seen it on television, sure, but the experience was far more intense than it looked. I had to lie still for quite some time, fighting all sorts of sudden urges to itch, sneeze, or cough while I waited. By the time it was over, I felt a built-up coughing fit coming on. The smiling attendant came in, told me I did a great job, and started checking things. Alright, I sighed. It was over. Time to get up and get out of here -
Another attendant peeked in the door. A doctor stood behind him. They both motioned for their colleague, and I found myself momentarily alone. I sat up, watching them confer in hushed tones just outside. The three approached me. "" We're going to need you to come with us real quick. It's not an emergency, we just need to speak to you in private."" Feeling hot from my approaching coughing fit, I followed them to a small room, where they directed me to sit and handed me a biohazard waste bin. ""I want you to close your eyes and cough into this trashcan, alright son?"" the doctor told me, his tone quavering. "" And whatever you do, keep your eyes closed. It's important that you don't look, for, um - radiological reasons - from the imaging machine."" ""Yeah, the machine,"" an attendant echoed, gulping. Their masked fear had my pulse racing, but I was more than ready to start coughing to ease the pain in my throat. Leaning over the waste bin, I began a heavy, hacking cough, letting out endless choking breaths that seemed filled with weird dust and particulates. Had I accidentally breathed in something radioactive from the machine? I kept coughing. I tasted a little blood. I breathed in and out. They urged me to keep coughing, their voices shaking and subtly disgusted. ""Come on, just a little more, son,"" the doctor told me. His practiced hands trembled on my shoulder. The last cough seemed to spasm my whole body, and I felt clotted particulates rise up my throat and finally escape. Spitting and pushing more air out through my mouth, I got the last of it out of me. Feeling much better, I made the mistake of relaxing - and opening my eyes. The doctor saw me staring down, and gripped my shoulders tight. "" Don't panic. You're safe now. It's just that - we saw the note about a spider you ate, and we did look at your stomach, but your stomach was fine. It was well, they're attracted to moving air, see and it had made webs, and laid eggs thousands of eggs in your lungs."" In shock, I nodded, unable to do anything but stare at the three-inch-thick pile of baby spiders roiling around in the bottom of the waste bin."
s_1900_293,I'm not happy.
s_2939_1087,The lines between being lonely and being alone have become so blurred I've finally accepted that I'm meant to be alone... I need to scream into the sky for a minute. I just feel lifeless like a hollow shell of who I once was. I slept for 15 hours yesterday then woke up alone to a dark house. That's when it hit me how lonely I really am. Sometimes I hate being gay in this century. It's so fucking painful to know that I will never truly be happy because I'll never be good enough for anyone. So I'm done trying.
s_1404_1300,"Give me wisdom, I don't know which path to walk... tryhard or give up? If I give up, 1. It will save me money and time and energy 2. I will stay frustrated about being single If I keep trying 1. I might, MAYBE get a girlfriend 2. It will definitely take me alot of time and energy and there is no guarantee to ever find love. I really dont know which path I should walk. I have been trying SO HARD already and I didnt get dates. I feel completely hopeless here and I want to give up. But I dont want to have this frustration of being single for the rest of my life either. I can't get a girlfriend. And I also can't accept to be single. Please help me I have no hope, which path do I walk?"
s_74_207,SHIT YETI. I am fucking CRYING.
s_1738_101,"Pretty much. I got on Wellbutrin months back and it's helped a lot, but it kind of killed my passion for writing music. Just a little bit. I'm still able to churn out stuff, I'm just not as consistent and focused."
s_2527_4,"I thought it was just my imagination... Okay...This is an update from [what happened to me one night at my parent's house](<URL>). I was pretty sure it was just my imagination after the sun started to come up and I finally drifted off. When I woke later that morning it all seemed like a dream. One thing that I remember is when I got out of bed I noticed an old photograph of me was on the floor. I was standing in my parent's driveway and I was wearing a 'Save the Planet' shirt. I figured it had just fallen off the shelf and put it back. I talked to my parents and husband about the crazy nightmare I had. They agreed it was unnerving, and we all laughed it off. My husband and I returned home and I started to put that night in the back on my mind. However, since it happened, sleep evades me. I lay awake and stare into the darkness for hours, it's only when I see the grey light of day that I feel my eyelids grow heavy. Last night I was having my usual night of insomnia. It was nearly three in the morning. I was sitting in my studio just browsing the internet. I should mention it was a very clear night. All of a sudden the lights flickered and went out. the only light was coming from my computer monitor. I didn't think much of it, because the power went out only a few days ago, due to a bad storm. I still had a full battery on my computer and I decided to shut it down in case the power was off until morning. I walk out as the computer shuts down to get a glass of water and a book. After my computer completely shuts down it's pitch black in my studio, except for the faint moonlight coming from my huge window. The window is curtained and takes up a five by five foot square in the wall. It faces my massive backyard. [ Just took this picture of it about a minute ago](<URL>). I feel relaxed and look at the clear night sky though my window. It's darker inside the house than outside and it's a beautiful view. As I'm gazing up, I notice a tiny movement out of the corner of my eye to the left of my back yard. I glance over an see a figure of a man walking through the yard. At this point I'm a little shocked because our backyard is completely secluded and fenced off for about .5 acres. I decided I would just watch and see what he did since I was confident that he couldn't see me. He started to make his way across my backyard, moving away from my house. I felt relieved. Then he stopped, facing away from me. He just stood there for a good five minutes, about 50 feet from my window. I didn't move a muscle. I just watched and waited. Then he turned completely around. I swear to god, he looked right at me through my window and I could see the whites of his eyes. Through the pitch darkness, I could see them. He started to move towards me. I was completely petrified but still didn't think that he could see me. I backed up to the wall of my studio. He started to move faster. He was only about 20 feet away from my window when the lights came back on. He could see me! He could see me and I couldn't see him! What the fuck?! I ran out of my studio down the hall into the bedroom and grabbed the gun off the night stand. I shook my husband awake and told him there was someone outside in out back yard. I walked to the back door with him, both of us with our guns drawn. I flipped the back light on and slowly opened the back door. We looked around with the flashlight and we couldn't see anyone. My heart was about ready to come out of my chest. We walked out into the yard, with all the lights turned on and with our guns and flashlights, everything started to seem less sinister. I calmed down and we made our way back to the house. As we were walking back, something caught my eye. I looked over and saw a photograph laying in the grass. As I walked over I noticed it was of me. Bemused and feeling a bit giddy from the adrenaline rush, I picked it up. It was a photograph of me standing in my parents driveway as a kid. I was wearing a 'Save the Planet' tee shirt. I flipped the photograph over. Scrawled in red letters, were the words, ""I can still see you."""
s_1133_104,"Worse of this year. Struggling with bad mental health because of the whole lockdowns. Struggling with finances. Struggling to even get a foot in the door in the job market. I was hoping to return to Melbourne before my birthday, to be with my partner,, but that looks unlikely until the globe has returned to 'normal' - whatever that is post pandemic. The longer this pandemic rages around the world the worse I think I'll become. I'm even afraid that it may drive my relationship to the rocks. My father, my only 'real' whanau who 'cares' for me doesn't seem to as he always skips around my issues anytime we talk. But I keep masking my mentality and keep smiling and honestly it's exhausting but it's helping me cope. I want to cry but can't. To quote you, op, 'It's the shortest year with the longest days'"
s_2107_100,I'm trying not to do anything stupid. my boyfriend is going to hide any dangerous objects in the house. i tell him i want sex but he has got a low libido because he is on citalopram so we don't do anything. i suffer from fatigue and exhaustion and have no energy to lose weight.
s_2415_1014,I feel the same. I am in a constant dilemma. I want to improve myself and my life but I am so lazy and there just seems something inside my mind that stops me from having fun. I just feel like staying in bed but then I think about future and freak out. I don't have the confidence to talk to people. My grades are shitty. My professors consider me a loser. I don't have a girlfriend(in fact I never really had one despite having few interested in me). I am way too pessimistic and I am not motivated at all. I am very lonely now. I can feel you.
s_2100_307,"I feel dumb. I keep crying. I can hear my dad yelling at me in my head. I feel so dumb. I don't even know where this came from. I just feel so childish. Even now, I can't take his criticism well. I just want a hug. I want to talk about it and be asked if I'm okay and I want to feel safe, but I'm alone here. The friends that I know in real life - I can't bother them with kind of thing. It's depressing to have to hear about how your friend just wants to die. I've been on the giving and the receiving end of that, and I know how hard it is so I'm not going to bring it up with them. I don't know. I just want a hug."
s_1514_217,"The Grey Riders [Part Two] My popcorn doesn't have any butter on it, but I prefer it such. Sliding awkwardly between seatbacks and knees, I make my way to our reserved seats at the center of the theater just as the lights go down. I've always loved the cool sanctuary feel of a dark movie theater as I watch both the distant screen from my high seat and an Empire-born movie from my hidden Amber World. Do they know we see what they create? While carefully arranging and depositing sodas, bags, popcorn, a tray of pretzel bites, and a half-eaten bag of red vine knockoffs, I say of the movie we've come to see, ""This is a good one!"" A calm older man to my right smiles. The effect of his sincere cheer is made more pronounced by his slightly crooked nose. "" What's it called?"" ""Die Hard,"" I tell him. Finally situated, I turn my head to my companion on my left. "" You've seen this one, right Tacitus?"" The kind man to my right taps me on the shoulder. I turn back, still excited. "" He tilts his head toward the screen. The moving image seems monstrous in scope, and certainly far larger than I've ever seen such a theatre contain. This particular preview is so full of energy and raw sensory brilliance that it presses upon my very optic and aural nerves. The film being marketed is odd as well; a bruised and battered woman of about twenty with matted metallic red hair is trapped in the clutches of some sort of limbed black sphere. She was hit in the head rather forcefully, and is now briefly unconscious. At that moment, the strange assailant's whirring drill is just beginning to penetrate her skull. What is that?"" The man to my right grimaces in unhappy concern and leans closer to whisper so that the other patrons might not know of our conversation. "" A scout, you could say. Or, perhaps more appropriately, an antibodythe first of many."" As my heart beats to a racing terror in my chest, I tell him, ""I don't think I like this trailer."" My eyes are stuck on the screen, but his gaze bores into my temple with a keening fire. He whispers with rather serious intent: ""It's trying to learn about you. If I were you, I wouldn't let it."" ""She can't get the angle,"" I protest painfully, unable to move for the strict and cramped tightness of my seat. The arms of the chair feel closer every second; the more I struggle, the harder I find myself held. His gaze now feels like shrieking fire against my tilted temple, and I bash backwards repeatedly against my unhappy former sanctuary to no avail. My gunI have a gun! Not popcorn, not a soda, but a weapon clamped to my chest by black limbs. It is pointed up at my coldly merciless assailant, yes, but my head happens to be in the way first. My kind companion turns away with respectful compassion at what he senses I am about to do. I can't get my head out of the way, but I don't need tonot entirely. Opening my mouth as wide as I can in an adrenaline-filled scream, I tilt hard to the right and fire. In that instant, a deafening ringing takes over my hearing. The explosive force rips through my cheek with all the fire I expected, returning me to full consciousness as the restraining limbs fall away. I fought through the sense-blinding pain to crawl and stumble away from the nightmarish thing. By seizing me rather than moving and dodging, it had finally given me a solid shot, and I had taken that shot no matter the cost. It had been practiced skill, not luck, that had helped me avoid destroying my teeth on either side of my planned vector. Holding up my bleeding cheek with one shaking hand and my gun with the other, I turned around and faced it again. That had been my last loaded bullet, and it had finally had an effect. The stunned sphere dragged across the ground in jittery confusion. What important part of it had I hit? I gagged against the overpowering taste of gunpowder and blood in my mouth and nose and throat and ears. My temple burned, but the tender exposed bone there was still intact. My nearly numb fingers ran across warm and wet scored ridges in my skull where the drill had begun its work. Explosions and flashes of light punctuated the distance, but those were too distant to reach my dulled awareness. Caught in the instinctive programming of my training, I let one clip slide out and reached for another. Seated, snapped, clickedI was in control again. Holding my gun out and at the ready, I guarded the zig-zagging sphere as the roar of engines became immediate. Flanked by her three heavily armed comrades, Caecilia removed her helmet, kicked her stand, and remained at a distance with her assault rifle slung forward. "" Venita, are you alright?"" I tried to speak, but the magmatic salt in my mouth forced me to cough instead. I could only nod. ""Is it wounded?"" I nodded again, and spit twice. Finally, by tightly holding my open cheek with one hand, I could manage a decent attempt at speaking. "" Could killed me, but held me, drill into my brain instead."" My tattered dark blue uniform was no longer snappy; despite the wave and the ride, the Dangerous Four in their Special Assault black and trimmed gold looked every bit the savior heroes I'd hoped for, an image reinforced by their daunting semi-automatic weapons. With their helmets now all off, their eyes were intent, and they scattered to surround the malfunctioning sphere at a distance. One of them shouted, ""What do you think its purpose was by drilling into your head?"" Confirming what they suspected, I answered, ""Learning."" Caecilia inched closer to it with a grin. "" Then how about we return the favor?"" After kicking it once and backing away, she stopped its random movement by stepping fully upon it. Her team closed in, and I edged up behind them warily. A chunk of the black exterior was missing thanks to my desperate shot, and we could see strange workings within. Both carefully organized machine parts and pulsing organs worked in tandem inside, and one of its cores was visible. The brunette woman I'd spoken to on my first day all those years ago asked, ""You guys recognize that?"" Caecilia nodded. "" Rainbow crystal. Looks like agravitational Yngtak lattices. That must be how it floats like thatchanges in internal harmonics. But I don't recognize these other technologies."" As we watched, parts of a shattered liver-like organ began cleaving back together rather rapidly. One of the two men realized aloud: ""It's regenerating...""
Caecilia looked sharply back to the rift. "" Venita, it came from there?"" I nodded emphatically despite the pain burning in my every nerve. ""Then we'll send it back where it came from and seal the hole behind it!"" Their confident blonde leader gave a more specific order without words, and the two men of her squad reached down to pick up the damaged sphere. Two glimmering black blades erupted from the device near their hands, nearly slicing them both. The men leapt back, but then nodded at each otherthere had to be a limit to its shapechanging. Carefully gripping the blades with extended fingers, they lifted the double-pointed sphere and ran toward the rift in perfect sync. Not far behind, I followed Caecilia and the other woman right behind, our guns at the ready. As they neared the truck that I had smashed into the hole in the fabric of space, I saw Caecilia leap and roll to her right, and I automatically did the same in the opposite direction. A split second later, a long black blade shot past and impacted into a fallen log. Another long blade sang out with the squeal of changing metal; the man on the left of the sphere threw himself back to the ground to avoid the limb. The man on the right was not quick enough to avoid the third blade, and it stabbed down through his thigh and into the ground. Just as quickly as the blades had sprung out to pierce into the surrounding environs and anchor the sphere, the pinned man swung his gun down and fired a rapid burst into the core of the thing. It whined and died with its mechanical guts hanging outchrome and flesh entrails leaked by a vile black pustule whose sudden barbs had prevented us from removing it from our world. Caecilia peered through the holes it had drilled in the truck on its way in while the other two sawed at the black blade in their comrade's thigh with their combat knives. Still in shock myself, I just stood and watched. I felt like I'd seen something like this in an old Empire science fiction show, and that situation had not ended well for the characters involved. How many shows about doomed worlds had I watched in my youth, entertained by the notion of the end of civilization? Now it was happening to *us*. Backing away from the ruined truck, the normally confident blonde bore a subtly sickened look of intense focus. "" There are more coming."" ""How many?"" the pinned man asked just before gritting his teeth against the pain. She began scanning the shattered road and forest. An instant later, she sprang into action and began pulling at a heavy nearby rock. "" We need to block this. Everything."" Her brunette teammate stopped pulling on the blade in her comrade's leg long enough to ask, ""Ceece, *how many?*"" The blonde just shook her head as she carried her rock over and placed it at the foot of the door to the world with the yellow sky. "" Cram our motorcycles into the holes in this rift, and then hotwire those cars and drive them up on the whole thing!"" They didn't hesitate. After freeing blade from thigh, they ran from vehicle to vehicle, spinning their engines to life in short order. Even their injured member helped carry things, and that snapped me out of my daze. While deep booms radiated through the earth from afar and curling explosions mushroomed into the sky on the horizon, we focused solely on this one point of vulnerability and did our jobs as best we could. It helped me not to panic, but I was completely and utterly exhausted by the time my allies roared in on their own bikes. ""Add 'em to the pile!"" Caecilia shouted to Porcia, Rufus, Septus, and my beloved Flavia, who had now all arrived in their dusty and torn dark blue uniforms wearing expressions of haste and concern. Porcia protested, ""It took us ages to find these""
""It won't matter if those things get through!"" Caecilia pointed to the outsized black burr that had stuck itself into a log, the ground, and a massive displaced boulder. "" They're agravitational, transmorphic, and intelligently adaptive. Don't underestimate them."" Flavia responded for my group. "" Understood."" She nodded to the others, and my four ran their bikes to the pile and threw them on top. This was no time for questions of authority, and, like me, my friends knew when to listen to greater experience and skill. Coming over to me, Flavia touched my wounded temple and cheek and grimaced. "" Porcia, what do you think?"" The more medically-inclined member of our group gave me a weak smile. "" You're not gonna die, but you're not going to look great for your date, either."" Behind her, heavy rock in his arms, my red-haired Rufus asked with surprised wide eyes, ""*Date?*"" While dragging a log, Septus laughed. "" I think I have an inkling of who it might be with!"" To tell the truth, I was crying. They were alive, and they were here, and their presence helped dispel some of the nightmare that had descended around my heart. I told them in the formal tongue, ""Focus your attentions. This is important."" With a happy sob, I informally added, ""I'm glad you're here."" As one, they gave synced serious nods. Flavia spoke for them: ""Of course."" Our pile of machinery, rock, and logs became rather excessive as all nine of us labored to bury the rift in as much debris as we could. It was fortunate, in some small manner, that the grey wave had churned up such destruction; whole unearthed boulders were available for moving, and one was so heavy that it took all nine of us to waddle it up and drop it into place. Crushing the cabin of the truck once and for all, it served as a keystone seal atop our mountain. ""That's enough,"" Caecilia ordered between heaving breaths. Covered in sweat and breathing hard, Porcia protested: ""I can keep going."" Our leader shook her head. "" We can't be exhausted for what's coming. Every scrap of energy will be critical."" We sat under the strange breezes and distant thunders of ongoing battles elsewhere; each of us slowly began breathing at a more normal pace as we recovered our limbs and our lungs. New whinings began somewhere deep in our pilehigh squeals denoting the progress of our enemies as they took to drillingbut Caecilia held a hand up to keep us silent and resting. I knew that it was important we take every second we could to let our energies rise, but I was dismayed that I hadn't thought of the importance of silence as well. I had done it naturally while alone, but this was a more strategic situation; these drilling spheres had no idea what was on the other side, for we had destroyed their scout, and it was to our advantage to take them by surprise. Exchanging words of courage and comfort might have felt like the natural thing to do, but, in this case, it was incorrect. We looked at each other often, wiped sweat from our brows, and slowed our breathing in tacit silence. Given a chance to let my adrenaline pass, I began to shake, and the echoes of gunshots from both horizons set me on edge. Were they faring any better out there? Were their threats easier or worse? It sounded like a dozen drills were at work below us, and I kept re-living the nearly fatal struggle I'd had with just one. Without a word, Caecilia climbed noiselessly down and motioned for us to follow. We nine each found positions behind various vehicles, rocks, or logs. Flavia kneeled with me this time, and her calm touch stilled my shaking gun hand. The second wave was coming, but, this time, I had more than just Tacitus' spirit by my side. It was then, too, that Flavia finally noticed his absence, and she looked to me in askance; I shook my head sadly. She took this wordless news in stride, closed her eyes for a long moment, and then faced our blockade with fire in her eyes. These things hadn't killed Tacitus, but it didn't matter. Either way, they would pay. As before, the drilling stopped without warning. None of us moved. The warm breeze from an explosion to our left blew dust to the side and rustled our hair, but we remained aimed and ready. The kick came, and one of the boulders ruptured in half; we waited unmoving as six black spheres hovered into the killing zone we had established in front of the rift. As a group, they began levitating toward various vehicles and rocks as if examining them. No attention was spared for their inactive brother. Now that I had some idea of which part I was aiming for, I intended to take one down with just a few shots. Studying the tunnel the six spheres had bored through the debris, Caecilia looked to the riftlooked to the sphereslooked to the riftlooked to the spheres and dropped her hand. As synced as the spheres, the nine of us opened fire all at once. I watched carefully for the impact of my shots and downed one with Flavia's help; the Dangerous Four took out one each with their assault rifles, and Porcia, Septus, and Rufus sustained pistol fire on the last until it finally gasped, burped out organs, black smoke, and machine partsand bounced to the asphalt dead. Breaking cover and running to the pile, Caecilia attempted to push a boulder over and re-seal the hole, but a long black blade shot out and nearly skewered her. Retreating, she shouted, ""Fire at will!"" Piercing the exit with the sheer hatred of my gaze for all that had been lost in this strange disasterwhether it was the fault of these orbs or notI gladly joined in filling that tunnel with hot lead. Sphere after sphere ruptured and exploded at its exit; the crescendo of our rifles and pistols was punctuated by whirring machine death cries. Rufus shouted over the gunfire. "" Seal them in with their own corpses!"" Beside him, Septus reloaded with a whoop. Porcia ignored both of them, instead keeping perfect focus on the enemies. It was working. The tunnel became increasingly filled with debris from broken spheres, enough that the rest were having trouble getting through. Flavia reloaded, but waited with a tense expression. ""What is it?"" I asked her. The grey wave had washed away her cap, and, under the orange-blue evening sunlight, her dirty golden hair now glimmered somewhat less for all the caked dust. That marred beauty seemed to match her undermined confidence. "" Do you hear that? They're drillingbut I don't see where."" I realized it, too. We watched in dismay as six new holes were kicked out of the debris and spheres began emerging far more rapidly. Their assault rifles were now doing the bulk of the work, but, by Caecilia's expression, I knew that she knew that we couldn't hold. Leaping up, she shouted, ""Fall back!"" We ran, not as a destroyed rout, but as a solid nine-man unit. In our own kind of gun-bearing phalanx, we kept the approaching tide of spheres at bay, managing to protect ourselves while their greater numbers spread out into the fractured forests. ""How many did you see?"" her brunette teammate asked again, this time demanding an answer. As she led the way over a humongous stretch of upended clay, Caecilia answered with humorless doom, ""Between fourteen- and thirty-thousand."" She
She hadn't told us
because we would have retreated. We would have run earlier. What use was slaying one sphere? Or the hundred-odd we had managed to take down? There were tens of thousands behind those, and she had known the whole time! In that instant, I hated her for her command decision, even though I knew it had been correct. Our blockade had delayed the spheres some number of minutes, and every single second counted. We were nearly out of ammunition now and our survival was likely forfeit, but in trade for our lives we had bought New Rome nearly forty five minutes. Forty five minutes. As the purpling evening sun darkened behind clouds of black spheres spreading out in every direction, I pulled Flavia over the high angle at the top of the wave-deposited clay ridge. "" A sphere hovered close, and she turned and shot it twice; part of its exterior broke off, but she saved her last bullet, not daring to waste it. The sphere put forth a drill and began advancing. From behind, Septus slammed down with a rock and finished the work she had begun. Wild-eyed, and with Porcia and Rufus in tow, he clambered over the ruined machine and after us. Ahead, a roar of resurrection and a blast of light in the death-cloud-cast darkness marked the rebirth of a delivery truck engine; Caecilia ordered us to grab sticks and rocks as weapons and then climb aboard. The front of my uniform was beginning to grow wet from blood leaking from my head and cheek, but I fought off wooziness and kept my heavy branch held ready. Through a small window from the cabin where she and the leg-wounded man sat, our leader shouted, ""Draw their attention any way you can! Keep them approaching our rear!"" Indeed, it was a sort of mobile chokepoint. The flat roof and sides of the delivery truck were not interesting to the spheres, so the bullet or two we used to draw the attention of the portion of the swarm behind us brought them surging at the open slamming doors at the back. Standing shoulder to shoulder, we bashed and crushed over and over again as they approached; some of us crouched down and defended our feet, while others swiped at any orbs that tried to slip in between our heads and the ceiling. Even luckier, the enemy machines bumped and collided with each other as they tried to keep up with our high speed and debris-dodging swerving. Would this actually *work?* The black-and-gold suited brunette called up, ""They're not using swarm dynamics!"" The man in the passenger seat of the cabin repeated her words, and Caecilia called back, ""Are you certain?"" What had she meant by that? Watching my enemies as they pushed forward, I realized that there was something ungainly and ungraceful about these monstrous machines. They didn't flow together like birds did in the sky; they didn't coordinate easily and automatically by following the unit ahead of them. In fact, the more there were, the less effective any single orb seemed to be. That mirrored something I instinctively recognized. "" They're not independent!"" I shouted, gripping my cheek and nearly passing out from the pain as I did so. The brunette affirmed my realization. "" Something is controlling them from afarsomething on the other side of that rift, no doubt."" Caecilia didn't have time to continue our analysis; she and the man up front had been forced to start expending the last of their assault rifle ammunition as the swarm became an eerily silent cloud of dark blots around us. And, step by step, we were being forced deeper into the truck. Drills began shooting sparks from the sides and ceiling, and a blade or two stabbed through at length. I fell due to a bump in the road and avoided the first, but a followup slashed my left sleeve, and a third skewered Rufus through the lower abdomen. Porcia screamed with anger and broke the blade off with her heavy rock; our red-haired teammate grimaced and retreated behind us, his back now up against the little window to the cabin where staccato gunshots echoed rapidly. After taking a shoulder stab herself, Flavia followed to help defend him against incidental attack. That was the real enemy. I was tired. I had been exhausted before this had even begun, and now I was bone-weary. I was moving ineffectually and reacting slowly, and I knew it was only a matter of time until I fell. The black-and-gold suited man to my right pushed me back. "" You're done! ""But""
He shoved me hard, and I fell next to Rufus and Flavia, who held me down and insisted I listen. Septus and Porcia tried valiantly to help in the defense, but numerous little slices along their arms and legs began adding up, and a drill coming up from the floor pierced Porcia's foot, ending her run. At the last, it came down to Septus alone guarding us four casualties in the very back; we watched in amazement as, beyond him, the two standing members of the Dangerous Four used the new spacenow that we were out of the wayto engage in a graceful tandem dance of destruction. The man took to swinging his metal rod this way and that, rupturing sphere after sphere; his brunette teammate dodged around him, drawing attention from the orbs breaking in through holes in the walls and ceiling while crushing any that got through with her heavy rock. All this they pulled off while the truck swerved dramatically left and right to avoid unseen obstacles at high speed; all this they did with fury in their eyes. These truly were the best of the best, and I understood now why they were so highly regarded. But there were just too many. The only light now was a small rectangular beam leaking in through the cabin window from the reflected headlights; I steeled myself and prepared to join Tacitus. Without so much as a horn of retreat, the cloud of spheres suddenly pulled up and away. Opening my eyes, I found myself on the back of an open and flat truck bedthe rear had been entirely ripped apart and cast aside piece by piece. The two elites stood steaming like fire elementals, breathing hard and casting their expert eyes about in search of further enemies. They were exhausted like us, I knew, but they had some sort of inhuman second level of endurance in which they burned their very life force to keep alert and fighting. Walls suddenly shot past, and I realized where the orbs had gone. We had reached the city limits, and they were surging up in thick black rivers to get a better vantage point. Like vast horrible fingers they were, or arms spreading out to grip New Rome, and I could almost see the intelligence behind them at work in that reaching grasp. I looked at my watch: only seventy two minutes had elapsed since the warning call had gone out. We could not count on the military to be present and ready. The streets and buildings here formed canyons whose piled industrial debris completely blocked the way by truck. As we came to a stop, I stared to my left and right at the dark maws of broken windows and shattered doors. The contents within were not entirely ruined, for the flood had been dry, rarer than water, and had come and gone quickly; the damage seemed more akin to an earthquake and a hurricane than an apocalypse. No, the end of the world would be from these spheres, not the strange flood and wave. We slowly climbed down from the ruined truck and took our first steps on the shattered glass and loose rubble of New Rome's surviving remains. After finishing relaying everything we had learned over the radio, Caecilia looked up at the circling black swarms and then turned to us. "" Most of the other rifts have been successfully defended, but guns aren't going to solve this one. The higher-ups have a plan, a last ditch effort, and I think it will workat a great cost. We were too weak to talk, so Septus responded for us: ""Go?"" ""Go find your loved ones,"" the leader of the Dangerous Four told us. "" If you can. Time is short."" She moved and motioned, and her three teammates began climbing over the downed building blocking the road. "" Be safe, fellow officers. Survive this."" When they were over the top and out of earshot, Porcia said bitterly, ""We've been left behind because we would have held them back."" Rufus lowered his head; Septus grunted; Flavia just helped me stand, and together we began staggering in a direction we knew well. ""Where are you going?"" Porcia called. "" You aren't leaving us behind too, are you?"" As she held me up, Flavia looked me in the eyes, glanced down at my open cheek, and then turned back to yell, ""We're going to see our grandfather."" I shook with pain and utter exhaustion, but I still managed to smile at that. My grandfather had often insisted my sister in arms was part of our family, but she had always politely refused out of respect for memory of her mother and grandmother. But she had not added the part that resounded in my thoughts a heartbeat later: *if he still lives.* Rufus and Septus studied the mood of the clouds of black dots high in the sky. "" How do you evaluate it?"" the red-haired said to his ally in the formal tongue. The youngest son of his family responded, ""We are duty bound to protect them."" Informally, he added: ""My older brothers are assholes anyway. Together, they lifted the sobbing Porcia between their shoulders and helped her avoid using her pierced foot. Happy that we were sticking together, I limped along beside Flavia until they caught up, and we weak and wounded five picked our way through alleys and over hills of rubble while staying out of sight of the ominous watchers above as best we could. By my watch, eighty five minutes had passed. If the spheres just took a little bit longer to evaluate the complex battlefield below them, there was a chance we could run out the clock, for they did not know there was a clock at all. We had no such fortune. As we neared Collis Oppidum, the ancient slum district in which I lived, I regarded the upward slope of the familiar long hill that usually meant I was nearly home, while, at the same time, I saw individual black dots descending from on high. Despite the difficulty and pain of talking, I said, ""They're doing it again."" Flavia asked, ""What is their strategy?"" ""Those are scouts,"" I told my worried teammates as we stopped and leaned in a huddle to keep from falling over. "" Just like before, they're sending individual spheres to analyze areas. With more focus, that single one is far more dangerous."" Heads nodded around me in the huddle. Septus asked, ""What do we have?"" Flavia responded, ""I've got one bullet. Anyone else?"" Nobody else. Rufus reached down and pulled at a jutting piece of rebar at our feet; failing that, he broke it off with a heavy rock. "" Everybody get a metal rod. It's quicker than a rock and more effective than a branch."" Wearily, we followed suit, breaking weapons out of the shattered foundation of the building on which we stood. Porcia suggested, ""Let's stick to alleys and out of sight."" As one, we five breathed in, stepped carefully down high narrow alleys, and kept our eyes sharp. We were only four blocks away from the quarter of Collis Oppidum that held my home, but every heartbeat felt fraught with dangerand it was. As we approached a junction between four close ramshackle buildings, a long bladed spear shot out and sliced Flavia's midriff as she dodged back; four rods slammed down and broke that spike before following it back to its source and beating it to pieces. There was no more protection by stealth. We ran; even Porcia on her leaking foot. On each street and in each alley we encountered a sphere that had learned from each of its predecessors. The second tried to stay out of reach and stab at us from afar, but Septus ran up a debris slope, leapt, and slammed it down into our waiting mob. The third, lying in wait, had actually donned a sort of armor for itself by incorporating rubble into its makeup; with this one, we did rod-to-blade battle for three long and exhausting minutes that we could not afford. Septus took a stab to the thigh, and Porcia a rotating hammer-like appendage to the ribs, but I decided to mimic our opponent and adapt by using my rod as a spear instead of a club. Stabbing down with all my might, I penetrated just between pieces of rubble armor, and the sphere smoked and died with a fading scream. One more block. One more sphere. We found it waiting for us high up between two fire escapes; like an army not daring to leave a hostile castle behind them, it knew we would not just walk underneath it and let ourselves become surrounded if other spheres were ahead. It was practically inviting us to climb those fire escapes and do battle from either side at heights where its agravitational movement gave it an advantage. My cheek was numb from adrenaline and constant pain now, and I spoke freely: ""It's here."" Breathing hard beside me, her face covered in traces of blood and dirt and her blonde hair dark brown and grey from rubble-dust, Flavia asked in the formal tongue, ""Our enemy?"" I nodded. Whatever force it was that operated these spheres had turned its full attention on us, and I understood why: I had been the first contact, the first to fight back, and an ongoing resister. Even without drilling directly into our brains, it was *learning about us*, and it was entirely possible we had been permitted to survive this far so that the experiment could continue. It would have been a simple matter to smash a thousand spheres bodily down upon us like a hammer if the intelligence observing us had been so inclined. An antibody... this was how the immune system worked. Encounter a hostile organism, develop a defense, and then deploy it en masse. We were on that second step, and letting the enemy complete its research would bring down untold horrors upon us when the third step began. I put my hand out to my teammates to tell them what I had realized, but Flavia raised hers first. The sphere fell, broken, as her final bullet felled it. I turned and looked back at the city, now lit solely by a sliver of liquid orange sun peeking over the horizon, and now spread out before us because of our position on the high hill at its outskirts. The swarms above swirled faster, casting long animated shadows across the landand they began to descend like a horrible dome of night come early. The intelligence had learned enough from its various scouts throughout the city, and now it was going to cleanse us. ""* For the first time in my life, I did more than flirt with that second level of endurance whose mastery I had seen in my elite comrades. Death was upon us like a shadow out of the evening sun, and I wanted to see my grandfather one last time. I wanted him to know Flavia had accepted us. I wanted to drink tea. I wanted to curl up by his knees and hide against the coming darkness like I had as a child. His stories had always been inspiring, engaging, and even frightening, but they had never left me despairednot like this. With the frenzy of life nearing its end, I ran past the communal well and began tearing away the piles of wood that had buried the front door of my apartment. The slums were mostly made of wood rather than stone, and, paradoxically, that had left them far less damaged by their own partial collapse. High on the hill of Collis Oppidum, these buildings had taken a fraction of the grey wave's impact. Was it possible that my grandfather had survived? My four brothers and sisters pulled at the debris with fire to match my own, but because of the descending cloud of death above us. Crawling in the small hole we finally managed to open, I slipped into the first room of my two-room apartment, pulled my flashlight off of my belt, and marveled that everything was still in its place and tidy. Running to the back room with a hopeful grin, I came up short, and my excitement faded. My grandfather lay unmoving on the floor with his eyes closed. My flashlight illuminated piled wood on the other side of our apartment's sole window. He'd been buried here all alone, with no way out and no place to find breath. I dropped to my knees as my friends surged in behind me and then fell silent. ---
(continued below)"
s_117_150,"I don't really see it ending either. But I don't have the energy to fight people about it. So I mostly gave up doing that and I just nod along and give noncommittal answers whenever someone starts the ""you should reconnect with your family"" lecture."
s_1265_1003,I'm on Lexapro which I take in the mornings. And I'm on risperidone which I take at night. I was on higher doses in the psych ward a couple years ago when I started. I finally have no insomnia after struggling with it for decades. Anyway you'll need to talk this over with your psychiatrist or regular doctor.
s_708_628,"The last four years of my life have totally destroyed me to the point I don't even recognize myself. I have hours where I almost act like the person I once was, but it's smoke and mirrors. I miss who I used to be, and I hate the person I am now. I feel like I died and all my time is spent mourning myself, I'm so sorry that you know how that feels. I don't know how we get back, but I hope we can. Internet hugs, fellow drifter."
s_1265_747,Reading that just reminded me to take my night time medication... which will help me sleep. I had sleep problems for most of my life (I'm 52). It's nice to be done with that If you want people to tell you what you want okay: you want to see a psychiatrist so you can get a diagnosis for your problems and then get some medicine.
s_337_0,"When I was younger suicide was honestly always a thought in the back of my mind. I thought it was normal because nobody really talked about it. IT literally never even crossed my mind that that was a big deal. I only acted on it a couple of times by self harming and taking some pills, but I always stopped myself before it went too far. My mom struggled with depression her whole life as well, but she always told me that she never had suicidal thoughts in her entire life. It was a weird realization that suicidal thoughts weren't a part of other people's everyday bad moods like they were for mine. I don't know that I'll ever act on them because I do still have hope for my future, but when I think about my past those suicidal thoughts are worse. Anyway, you're definitely not alone, but it also isn't normal to feel that way. You should reach out and try to get help. Talk it out with a professional--your friends probably want to help, and you should recognize that, but don't let them be your only resource for help because being a teenager in general is a shitshow, regardless of whether suicidal thoughts are present, and they probably won't have anything super helpful to say. Don't be ashamed that this is the way you are, but my personal opinion is that it's not something you should be blase about. Suicidal thoughts are things that you should express to people you trust and feel you can confide in, but when it comes down to it you are the only person who can deal with them. Other people can support you, but it's up to you to make a difference for yourself. I wish you luck, and if you want to talk about what you're experiencing please feel free to reach out. Also /r/depression is a great place to vent to other people who are living with these feelings, like you."
s_1435_368,"Jobs/careers?? Im diagnosed bipolar 1, and every time I get help and see a psych, they tell me I HAVE to be on meds in order to be successful/live a normal life. Im not totally against medicine, but every time I try the pills, the adjustment period ruins my life it seems like. Ive been prescribed lamictal, abilify, lithium, naltrexone, vraylar, etc. but the thing is - the meds take too long to adjust. I would love it if I had 6 months to adjust and get comfortable but I work all the time and need to be sharp/adjusted in order to work to survive. The brain fog, differences in my sleep schedule, and attitude/mood swings make me a bad employee and I cannot afford to lose work. I currently work in a warehouse about 55hrs a week and i bartend part time at about 15 hours a week. Im always tired and my mental health is bad bad right now. But I cant afford to cut hours ): What do yall do for work?? Im historically bad at corporate type jobs but Ive done sex work, food service, warehouse jobs, in home health care, and other odd jobs. I feel burnt out every week trying to make enough $ to pay my bills while managing my mental health. So I guess what Im asking is - what do yall do for work? How do you manage working enough to pay bills and still deal with your mental health? I usually quit or fuck up bad enough to be fired when Im manic or severely depressed. I just need some ideas because I cant keep doing what Im doing. I need a flexible(ish) job that doesnt require a degree. Im a hard worker when Im present but Im not always good at showing up. I tend to sleep through alarms when Im depressed and when Im manic, Im just bad at my job or go on benders and dont show up. I dont know how to change and Im so tired of constantly being disappointed in myself. Thank your in advance for any insight or tips of advice!"
s_258_491,"My twenties have been a lifeless shithole with me just inducing trauma on myself from having anorexia for 8 years and developing depression as a result of prolonged starvation but now Im fucked since I havent had any friends these 8 years and at 27, on the border of 30- no , life does not seem to be getting any better. I regret so much of my past, its hard to see a future. I think I might have fucked myself up for quite some time moving forward- Im a ghost compared to how I was 10 years ago. Maybe the only happy period Ill ever have to look back on is adolescence since my childhood was traumatic growing up in a hoarded house."
s_1728_52,Increased my personal interest in the game.
s_2141_10,I realized recently that I don't have to dislike myself just because I don't look the way I'd like to look... That is okay to like a body that's flawed. It was very liberating.
s_8_303,"i dont have the energy too, imm just suffering so much man"
s_1609_169,"The mental side effects, yes, are very much the same. I don't suffer from all of them, but depression, anxiety, easily distracted, disinterest, etc. As for men, some women experience a lot of them, some only a few. I personally suffer anxiety and depression that sometimes lead into things like disinterest, etc. Obviously, the physical effects are different. Overuse can lead to dryness, itchiness, elongated labia minora (vaginal lips), loss in sensitivity, etc. I haven't really researched this, but these are things that I have experienced."
s_3042_52,"Ohhh, you mean like my Dad? "" Life's hard, buck up and put your big boy pants on"" He's also tells me to ""stick things out, because I need more some success in my life. "" I am diagnosed with GAD, MDD, and C-PTSD. The fact I'm still alive is a success. I had this job where my redneck manager and co manager bullied me nearly every day. Made me feel completely inferior. I'm just walking around the building thinking to myself... I should kill myself. Smiling at people while I did things like change light bulbs were at their desk. I felt like a male stripper, like here have a good look at my dong. Sorry about the dirt from my boots. I stuck it out until I was too depressed to get out bed. Then I got let go. Even for that... My boss was a total soul less dipshit. ( Facility maintenance at a construction company's HQ)"
s_2953_602,"OP's Mom cheats on his step-dad and ruins his and his sisters' lives. Spoiler: gt;!This is a tragic update! lt; Trigger Warning: gt;!Suicide! lt; [ORIGINAL](<URL>) by [u/ThrowRAihatemymom](<URL>) **Mom(40F) cheated on Step-Dad(45M) and ruined my(16M) and my siblings' lives** I am a 16 years old male. I have 2 sisters (10F,8F). Our biological father was never in our lives. He left my mom when she was pregnant with me, came back 6 years later and said he wanted to make amends and that we could be a happy family. Somehow my mom immediately started saying that she loved him but he left after mom got pregnant again. Then 2 years later he came back, I cried and begged my mom to not let him into our lives because I hated him. Well, he said the same thing, my mom also said she loved him and then he left after she got pregnant again. My mom was a waitress so the 4 of us lived in a small one bedroom apartment. I was essentially another parent to my sisters because mom was always working. Sometimes, we wouldn't eat breakfast or dinner because we couldn't afford it. Other times, I did not eat anything so that my sisters could eat. My mom met another man (45M) a year after my youngest sister was born. He is a really good man. His wife and daughter had died in an accident a long time ago when he was in his 20s. He met my mom when he was ready to date again. He is a really good man and treated us like his own children and I consider him my father. He was very wealthy and owned multiple businesses. We eventually moved into his huge mansion like house. I also had a better school there. We 3 siblings got our own rooms and I got better clothes, played video games for the first time in my life and a bunch of other things. He taught me things, helped me catch up in school because I could not do well in the previous school. He spent a lot of time with the 3 of us. My sisters eventually started calling him ""dad"". I followed shortly after. I remember him crying, hugging us and telling he loved us when we called him dad for the first time. They eventually got married and dad asked me to be one of his groomsmen and of course, I said yes while my sister were my mom's bridesmaids. Mom stayed at home to take care of us. As far as I know, they were very happy together. They went on dates at least once in 2 weeks, kissed each other frequently and always told each other that they loved each other. He also knew about mom's past and realized she had issues and got her into counselling. I was really happy that my mom had finally found someone who treated her well. I was also very happy for myself and my siblings and really loved him. He also said that he would pay for college for the 3 of us. My dream is to become a doctor and I never thought it would be possible cause it was so expensive so and I was so freaking happy. Mom also told me she was very lucky to have found him and that she loves him and is very grateful of how he has made her and our lives better. Well, last year July dad discovered that my mom was having an affair with his best friend who was also the best man at their wedding. Apparently, the affair was going on for a long time, I do not know exactly how long. Mom cried and begged him to give her another chance. He didn't, understandably. He let us keep all the new things such as clothes for me and toys for my sisters. When I went to him crying and asking him why he was leaving us he just hugged me and told me about mom's affair. He said the affair is too painful and that he cannot be in this marriage anymore and then said that he loved me and my sisters. My sisters do not know about the affair, I do not think they will understand. He got a prenup so mom did not get anything that wasn't hers. Dad just had to pay the rent of a new apartment until the divorce was finalized. We stayed in a decent apartment but after the divorce was done we moved into a much smaller apartment. I tried to be in contact with him but it does not seem like he wants a relationship with me. He has never responded to my messages. I sent a final letter to him last year December thanking him for everything he did for me and my sisters and that I loved him and would remember him forever. So now we're back to a one bedroom apartment, skipping meals and barely being able to afford anything. I sleep on the floor now. My sisters share a bed while my mom uses another. Mom is a waitress again. I've also taken a part time at a grocery store to help with money. I just hate my mom so much right now. I only took the job to help my sisters. I have also stopped talking to mom. Recently she came crying to me and told me that she was sorry for ruining everything and she wanted me to talk to her. I broke down and just said ""I don't understand. Why did you cheat on him? He was taking such good care of you and the 3 of us. He was also gonna send us to college. For the first time in my life, I was happy. You have destroyed my life. Why do you always have to ruin everything? You already did that twice when you let \[bio father\] back in my life. I hate you. I never want to talk to you again"" She was crying a lot after I said that. I am gonna admit, what I said was pretty rude but at that time I was just so angry. I just hate her so much right now. I just wish she dies a very painful death. These thoughts are the only things in my head. It's making me go insane and I know it's not normal. I read online that therapy would be useful but we can't even afford food on most days so we don't have insurance. All I can think about is how she ruined everything. He didn't even ask for much. Mom was living such a luxurious life and was just at home taking care of her own biological children. I just miss him so much. Even my sisters keep asking when they are going back home or when they'll see dad again. They've also started crying and asking for dad a lot of times this past year. I just don't know what to do anymore. I am so frustrated and just angry at everything. I wish I could run from here but if I did who would take care of my siblings. That stupid mother can't do shit. I guess I'm here cause I need some help. I don't really know what to do. Some days, I'm just so tired and don't want to do anything. Other days I just wished I died and all of this ended. [UPDATE](<URL>) **My Mom(40F) Committed Suicide Because Of Me(16M)** Hello everybody. This is a throwaway account. About 2 weeks ago, I found my mom dead in our house. She had sent my siblings (10F,9F) to their friend's house and then hung herself. She really changed after she got divorced from my step dad after she cheated on him (I made a post about it recently). My mom and I didn't talk a lot after that. One of the last things I told her was that I hated her and asked her why she ruined my and my sisters' lives. I wish I didn't say that. Maybe she would have been alive if I supported her. I have had no contact with my step dad after the divorce. My sisters and I live with my mom's sister and her husband now. We never met them before this and even my mom never had contact with them but they are the only family that could be found and they agreed to let us live with them. My siblings and I don't like living here. Both of them are constantly shouting at each other and at us. We're just so uncomfortable here. I don't think they can afford food for all of us. I have a job at a grocery store so I mostly buy food for my siblings. My boss is also very nice and allows me to take home some extra things for free. I really miss my mom. My sisters are also always crying for her. She had her flaws but I still love her. She's my mom. The last thing I told her was that I hated her. I just wish that I told her that I love her and supported and helped her. Then she would've been alive today. What I told her tipped her over the edge. I can't do any of this anymore. I just don't know anything anymore."
s_1749_859,"Seriously! I hate when I am crying while telling my doctors about my pain and they just want to talk about my mental health. My depression is not the cause of my pain. As a matter of fact it is the other way around. Actually, I have never been as insane as I have been since my pain started getting bad. I am so tired of being tossed around from specialist to specialist like a damn potato. It's like every one of them is going ""Not it! You touched it last!"". I am beyond ready for one of those fucks to just give me a damn prescription for tramadol already. But like you were saying, it just doesn't work that way. I feel like they won't even take me seriously despite the fact that I had to derail my whole life because of my pain. At this point I'm not even expecting to get fixed enough to go back to work. It would be nice to be able to go to the store or even take a shower though. I know tramadol is still addictive and blah blah withdrawal and so on. But I would much rather have a physical drug dependency and a life than constant intolerable pain and no life. Also, it doesn't even get me high! Which is totally cool. Did I mention that I'm 23? So there goes my life and apparently I will have to wait 20 years for a doctor to be willing to give me narcotics to actually manage my pain. If the non narcotics worked I wouldn't still be asking for pain relief. I would rather have my job back and not deal with drugs or pain but that's not an option. All I get is pain and no management. Sheesh. I am kinda angry all the time. Sorry for hijacking your rant."
s_1452_982,"As always, the answer here is to talk to your SO about this, in a non-confrontational, non-accusing way. Saying that, I wouldn't look too much into it. My wife and I have an active and exciting sex life. She is my porn star. When I get bored and surf the web for porn, I don't look for the ""normal"" porn, I like to check out the extreme stuff. And not always for self-release, sometimes I just like to see Japanese women peeing on seafood, or Brazilian women farting into cakes. Yes, I search this out because these are things that I don't see at home, but that doesn't mean that I want my wife to pee on an octopus, or fart with her ass full of peanut butter, or get railed by three well-endowed black fellas for that matter."
s_1542_38,"Hi guys, how much of a problem am I going to have to stop? Hi guys, been doing etizolam once(yes I'm sure, no redosing was occurring) daily for 7 weeks. Usually 2-3mg a day but two days were 10mg and one day I did 20mg, those three days were the only days I dosed more than once. Currently taking 2mg a day for past week, few hours before bed, am using to help sleep, during pandemic finding my depression is worse and is harder to sleep. I sleep like a baby after a few mg of etizolam. I'm assuming I should not stop cold turkey at this point? Would tapering schedule is recommended or cold turkey for this use time? Some people seem to play the long game on the taper and some play the short game. Since I haven't been using long would it be logical to go short here? Like next week go to 1.5mg then next week 1mg then half mg next week then done? Edit: didn't dose last night. Didn't sleep much. Felt like chest was caving in most of the night. No chest pains this morning though. Feel rough and low on sleep and irritated but will probably get through this. I Intend to drink myself to sleep tonight. Cold turkey looks like it was the right call so far, thanks guys! Edit #2 so made it to day 6. No relapse, and also very little sleep. The lack of sleep is starting to get to me. If I do relapse I feel as it will be the lack of sleep that gets me to do it. I don't always make the best decisions when I'm tired. But, so far so good. Edit #3 so last night, night 7 is what I would call my first good night of sleep since quitting. It still wasn't great sleep but was good and the first time I was able to get more than a hour and half of deep sleep in a night since stopping which really helped. Edit #4 hopefully final edit. So I think I'm back to normal, after day 9 I started sleeping normally, good amount of deep sleep and woke feeling good. And after a few days of good sleep I think it's behind me. Respect benzos people, the fact that a short term of use and dosage could effect me for a week was crazy, I've done/abused harder drugs with less of a withdrawal than these things."
s_1488_203,"How happy and likable? I had 0 friends. I lived hours away from any of my family. I threw some makeup on and it made me happy for a couple of hours. I snapped a picture (from above, got 0% of my body in, I was pushing 230-245 pounds, I cant remember, its been a while) and smiled. When I see that photo, I dont see what you see. I see me hiding behind a smile, trying to fake myself into being happy and content when I wasnt either of those things. I struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts to this day. Can you tell that from the photo on the right, or do you only choose to see the superficial things Ive presented? Im proud of how far Ive come along my fitness journey.. even if my makeup added on 3 tons to the scale. ;) I hope your day is bright and hopeful. Nothing but positivity being sent your way!"
s_282_58,"Amazing advice, thank you so much. My curriculum is all over the place. I try to make to do lists and planners but never stick to it. That's the issue here. I kind of wanted someone to help me formulate a realistic, doable study plan this time. I sat down today and did managed to do make a ""plan"" for tomorrow but I'm not sure how it'll go. Pomodoro never works for me I don't know why. I still feel tired and I don't know, I think I just get distracted to quickly. I can't afford to take off any more days unfortunately :( I haven't even made plans for my birthday this year because that's how fucked I am for my finals. So yeah, it's all about gearing up at this point and just doing it. Thank you once again for the sweet reply :)"
s_2754_90,"This brings tears to my eyes, as well it should. Very well done, and an important message on this anniversary
*Am I not a man and a brother?*"
s_2706_133,"Turn your loud ass, shitty music off by 10pm. I wake up at 3am and it's pretty annoying when I can't go to sleep. I PUT NEW FUCKING WINDOWS IN TO TRY AND DROWN IT OUT"
s_1625_393,"Yes, it's normal. When our brains can no longer process the sadness, anhedonia sets in. Most days now for me it's anhedonia, but sometimes the pain still breaks through and I cry a lot today was a crying day."
s_2434_755,My sleep pattern changes over and over again and I hate it so much. Im currently awake at 4 am after going to sleep at 12 pm yesterday
s_2593_534,Increasing Thoughts I'm having thoughts about suicide that keep getting stronger and more frequent. I've even imitated suicide by putting a knife to my neck or tying string around my neck and honestly it feels really good. I don't really know what to do.
s_2833_266,They say ghosts haunt the place of their death. Being trapped in the house of my murderer felt more like a punishment for me than him.
s_2890_557,"Perfection Before my final tasks of today, I have to let someone, somewhere know. This needs to be heard in case it ever happens again. I can't be crazy, I know it, and I truly hope I'm about to end this all tonight. In case I don't, the people of /r/nosleep seem to be the ones who will keep this in mind. When I'm done here, I will have done all that I can. Have you ever heard of the children's game called ""Perfection""? If you haven't played it, heard of it, or gotten the ridiculously catchy jingle from the commercials stuck in your head once before (to the tune of ""Pop Goes the Weasel""), let me explain it a bit. Perfection is a game in which you are given a red box-like contraption with a blue top that pops up, and is covered in differently shaped slots which you are to fit small corresponding yellow pieces into, all before the the timer runs out. When it does, well, ""**POP!** Goes Perfection!"". As a child I was obsessed with the game, I thought I had it mastered. I could get every single one of those little, yellow shapes into their slots before the timer ended, and then ""**POP!**"", my meticulous work was scattered as the blue top popped out and destroyed the wonderfully perfect puzzle I had finished. One thing about this game that irked me so, was the fact that I could never prove to anyone that I could actually do it. Being so young at the time, no one thought I could fit together so many randomized pieces into their perfect locations under the time constraint, ""Elizabeth, you'll get it one day, you don't need to pretend, I'll bet it's rigged so no one could do it at all!"" My mother smiled at this, she thought it was childish pride just trying to be something more than I was. To my six year old dismay, each attempt to prove that I had done it was somehow thwarted. If I asked someone to watch me, it seemed the timer had sped up and I had less than half the pieces placed before the sudden ""**POP!**"". It infuriated me, I had tried countless methods, switching off the game after I had completed the task, only to find that by the time I had brought someone in to look the timer had reset to the start, and they merely assumed I had filled all the slots without turning the game on. ""Now honey,"" my father had once scolded, ""There's no pride in cheating, it really doesn't matter if you beat the game. But enough of the silly lying, there's no reason for it."". I **KNEW** that I had beat the game, that I had achieved the goal of Perfection, but I had no way to prove it to anyone but myself. I must have tried hundreds of times to show people, but no one ever believed my young self could do it, especially because no one else in my family ever had. My brother, older by two years, had only ever gotten about 75% into slots on his best days. My parents, aunts, uncles, any adult in my life I knew, simply couldn't finish in time either. They were always several pieces short, and became frustrated with my need to prove that it could be done, and that I was the one who could do it. In my daily routine I'd hum the little jingle while I did the meager amount of chores a child of that age has, I was always pleased with my work after it was done, because it was another thing I knew I was doing right. It seemed no one else saw it, the clothes I put away nicely folded in my drawers were always scattered about my room, the toys I had put away in the boxes before bed were set up as if I had spent the night playing instead of sleeping. Everyday I was reprimanded for my pride of doing my tasks so well, when no one ever saw that they were done at all. "" Elizabeth, your lying is getting out of hand. There is absolutely no need to pretend you've done your chores just so you can obsess over that ridiculous game! I'm going to take it away if things don't start shaping up with you."", My father was almost at his limit with Perfection. I was insistent though upon the fact that I was doing everything *perfectly*, and my wording on that was enough for me to be taken to a child psychologist who worked in town. I don't remember much of him, he was an odd tall man, with a smile that was awkwardly large and forced. The most I recall of the hushed conversation was some mention of a possible form of OCD, and some talk of how I may be intentionally leaving things amiss because of the lack of belief everyone had when I thought I was doing things correctly. I'm not really sure if he helped my parents at all, I just know when I spoke to him I had a sick feeling in my stomach, like he was looking for something dark and wrong inside me, and stirring it around. After so much of my insistence that I had done it, that it really was PERFECT and complete, and exactly as it should be, my parents decided that perhaps I should just stop playing the game and focus on other things. They kind of forced it in fact, I remember seeking out the game one day while I was upset about chores I had done, but apparently *hadn't* done. Over the years I lost interest in the game itself, but the jingle from the commercials always popped into my head at random moments, ""*Put the pieces into the slot, make the right selection! But be quick you're racing the clock, POP! Goes Perfection!*"" It started out as just occasional, something I found myself humming while performing random tasks that I was pleased at doing, and the more pleased I was at finishing the task, the worse everyone else saw the results of. Around the age of 13, I discovered the game put up in my old closet, and decided to take it down and test out my old skills to see if I still had what it took. Each and every time, I completed it with several seconds to spare, and began singing the little jingle to myself as I restarted my scattered masterpiece over and over again. It felt good to be doing something right that no one could tell me I was doing wrong. Eventually my mother walked in to see me back at my childish obsession. I hadn't realized she was there, I had just started placing pieces, and singing the jingle when it suddenly popped and scattered less than 10 seconds after the timer had started. I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, she chuckled quietly and sighed, ""About to start high school, and you're still fixated on that little game that you just can't seem to beat."" I frowned in dismay, *why can I not seem to achieve Perfection when others are around?* Throughout that summer I played the game in private, pleased with myself at the speed and ease of which I accomplished the game. Right before I was about to begin my Freshman year, I decided to put the old game back up in the closet. I was already one of the youngest to be in my class, I didn't need anyone outside of my family thinking I was obsessed with childish games. My troubles continued in high school itself though. I had been an excellent student in elementary and junior high, my grades always excelled and I was a quick learner, but something more than the just the natural teenaged hormones I was starting to gain. More and more often I found myself humming the jingle, especially when it was test time. It seemed to calm me. That year approximately half my tests were missing answers that I could swear I had written, I even told the teachers out loud what I had responded on the test with, and they simply thought I was being lazy and skipping questions I didn't know, and then studying them later to make it by for exam time. I had no idea what was going on, and my teachers were becoming disappointed in my grade drop. I was doing fine on everything except the tests. As I progressed through high school I found the jingle stuck in my head so often that it gave me migraines, over and over throughout the days it happily sang through my mind, ""*Put the pieces into the slot, make the right selection! But be quick you're racing the clock! Goes Perfection!*"". My schoolwork overall went downhill as the song played through my mind each day, I was focused and I was getting all the correct answers for my notes, but I was turning in empty assignments I was sure I had completed, emailing in homework files that were so corrupted my teachers assumed I was intentionally trying to ruin their computers so that I could lie about finishing them, flawlessly acing tests that when I handed in were written in unintelligible gibberish. I barely graduated, If not for my talk with a school psychologist I might not have. She never told me what she thought was wrong with me, but she seemed concerned once again that I considered all my work to be perfect. She kept a file about our meetings that I was never able to see, and she recommended my teachers give me only oral examinations. This helped greatly, I started hearing the jingle less in my head, though when I did, it now caused me a horrible stutter, which impacted my grading slightly, but I managed to scrape by. Somehow after that entire ordeal the psychologist from my childhood and the one from my school got together to discuss me with my parents. Being only 17 and a minor at the time, my parents had the entire say in what was going on in that department. I assumed I must be going crazy. At their recommendation, and to my family's relief, I was given a prescription to take that made the jingle disappear entirely from my head. My parents had told me that due to my ""condition"" the doctors requested I not be told what the medication was, only that it would help me lead a normal life. Which it honestly did for a very long time. I was able to function, I was actually completing the tasks that I believed I was doing, I couldn't even recall how the jingle went, or the name of the ridiculous game that drove me insane. After a few years of the medication the doctors decided I no longer needed it, and my memories should be entirely repressed by whatever it was they gave me. I was fine with not knowing, they had cured me, which was all that mattered to me at that time. If memories were to ever reoccur, I was to contact my family and we would revisit the doctors to see what needed to be done. I was ecstatic, my entire childhood of being haunted by a hellish game was over. I was done hearing a maddening tune in my head, I was done obsessing over the things I did wonderfully and yet somehow failed at. I was even more overjoyed at the fact that I could leave that small town and the condescending looks from the people that lived there. Half the town thought I was insane, and the more religious or superstitious folks thought I was cursed. So I moved out of state to pursue my normal life. I finally got to do what I wanted, I went to school for a financial degree, finished up and worked a modest job as a bank teller, met a lovely man named James who married me soon out of college, and a year later we had our beautiful baby girl. For a girl in her mid-twenties it was a happy life, an absolutely *perfect* life, until recently. My parents died in a car accident a few months ago, and apparently had left to me our old family home so that I may raise my own family there. I was saddened by the loss, but felt a sense of relief to be back in my familiar home. It was almost as if nothing had changed there, my old room looked as it had since I was a child. A pretty pale pink, a white single bed, and a closet full of old toys my mother had kept for sentimental value. My four year old Anna would adore the room for herself, I smiled as I imagined her playing with the old Barbie's and dollhouses I had left behind. While unpacking in the master bedroom I heard a familiar humming, something to the tune of ""Pop Goes the Weasel"". I felt an inner panic though I couldn't quite tell why. I went to check on my Anna, and found her sitting on her bed with a familiar looking game. Suddenly the little yellow pieces popped out their slots and I was hit with a flood of memories. I ran towards Anna and yanked the game away from her, she began to cry immediately, ""Mommy! I almost did it, why are you taking it! I want to finish the game!"" I felt sympathetic, I just didn't know if the game would ruin her childhood as it had mine. I sat on her bed and put my arm around her, ""Honey, this game is very old, it could break very easily, so we have to keep it put away because it was a gift from Grandma, okay?."" It wasn't an entire lie, but enough that she may lose interest in the game. She nodded her tear streaked face in agreement, but still pouted when I put the game on the highest shelf in the house. I tried to get into contact with the doctors that had previously given the prescriptions to block my memories, but as the jingle played through my head, I kept dialing wrong numbers. ""* Put the pieces into the slot, make the right selection! But be quick you're racing the clock! Goes Perfection!*"". The song was giving me a headache, I finally really did have the perfect life and a childhood game was going to ruin it all! I asked James if would call the numbers I had searched up, and he looked at me as though I had grown an extra head, ""Sweetheart, these are numbers for decommissioned asylums, why would you want to call them?"". I then explained to him the repressed memories that were now resurfacing, and the gist of the experiences in my childhood created by this silly little game. He seemed a bit skeptical, and concerned at the fact I had not divulged this information earlier in the relationship. I had touched upon the subject of going through and conquering mental illness during my childhood, but this story seemed beyond his comprehension. He didn't believe me. He thought there must be something else to it, and tried himself to search for the doctors which names I could only vaguely recall. None in this area with names even close to the ones I had thought of. It was a small town, and I knew that at least the woman who worked at my high school had to be on file somewhere, but his search turned up that the small school had never had more than a simple guidance counselor, and each one on file had been male. I felt the same stress and anxiety as I had many years ago, I was wrong when I knew I couldn't be. I knew there had been someone who had stopped this before. In the midst of James trying to calm my nerves, I once again heard Anna humming the familiar tune. It sent me into a sort of rage, and I ran upstairs to see if she had somehow taken the game from her closet shelf. She was fast asleep, I shook my head in disbelief and dismay, *why is this happening, how can I stop this before it gets to her too?* I checked the time, it was nearly 11pm. Of course I must be hearing the jingle in my head again. I gave a resigned sigh, and went downstairs to ask James to just come to bed with me. I was sick of this day, and maybe some sleep would calm me and put things out of my mind. Around 1am I awoke with a start. ""* Put the pieces into the slot, make the right selection! But be quick you're racing the clock! Goes Perfection!*"" I slipped from the bed quietly, as to not awaken James. I knew that game was going to taint my daughter as it had tainted me. I knew something had to be done. It had to go. I quietly stepped downstairs as I heard the jingle start over, this time in my daughter's voice. I was livid. I went to the front closet where we kept a bat for safety, in case of intruders or the like. I made my hastily back up the stairs to destroy the growing evil. I stepped quietly into Anna's room, and saw that she was mouthing the words to the jingle in her sleep. I sighed, fearing she was already in the clutches of this curse. I took the game from the shelf and began the timer. I raised the bat over my head and swung with all my might. It took at least three solid hits before bloody, bloody, pulpy gore began to coat the bat, each swing felt so heavy, but my mind began to feel so light. I heard the telltale **POP** of the game scattering it's pieces, at the same time as I heard a gasp from behind me. James stood in the doorway, pale as a ghost. He began to speak, ""Elizabeth.. What have you... *Put the pieces into the slot, make the right selection! But be quick you're racing the clock! POP--*"" The jingle coming from his mouth was silenced as I brought the bloody bat across his jaw. The evil of Perfection had gotten him to. He cowered on the ground, holding his shattered jaw and staring at me with utter disbelief. How DARE he not believe me now, he was cursed. I brought the bat down over, and over again. His entire face was destroyed. I felt so calm having saved him from the horrible evil I lived so long with. I turned back to look around Anna's room, only one thing left to do to bring peace to my family. I picked up the game off the floor, and calmly walked down to the living room. I lit a fire in the large stone fireplace, and set the timer on the game once more. I smiled as I fit each piece into it's slot, but suddenly the timer ran out. With only two pieces left to place, I had not achieved my goal. I was distraught, but it was still time to do my final task. I've thrown the cursed game into the fire, the flames are large and black smoke is curling towards me as I type this. I've warned you all, Perfection is truly a curse. The fire is calling me now, it's singing the jingle with me, ""*Put the pieces into the slot, make the right selection! But be quick you're racing the clock! Goes Perfection!*"""
s_2143_141,I'm on cipralex for about probably two months now. The beginning you'll notice that you may not be as alert as you used to be that was a side effect for me. I felt very tired at the beginning but then your body will adjust. The medication will not work right away it will take 3 weeks. I was very scared during the 3 week time because my sucidial thoughts increased to the point where I was picturing wires wrapped around my neck. But my doctor increase my dosage and I'm fine so far. Stress can increase your behaviours so try to find coping mechanisms to help you out.
s_1404_8,"I'm tired of explaining the same so many times to idiots who understand nothing so read this Edit: she broke up with me today I'm receiving alot of hate here on reddit from people who think I am a pedophile despite the fact that I am NOT. So I want to make this clear. I am a good guy and if you don't believe me, read everything below. The only 2 things I do with my long distance girlfriend is playing videogames and chatting about NON-sexual topics. I do NOT have any sexual desires with my girlfriend. The only reason I ""date"" her online is because I love playing videogames and chatting with her. We are not really dating anyway, we are basically ""best friends"" but the small difference is that we agreed on an official relationship. That doesn't mean much, it **doesn't mean there is alot of romance or anything sexual**. She lives her own life and I'm not too involved with her anyways. And no, **I do not want her to move to my country**. I did first but I realized it was a mistake. She is too young for such decision so I really don't want her to do that. About the 5 years age gap, you can have your opinion that it is too big, but I simply disagree and you really don't have to hate me for not sharing your opinion. If I am a 40 year old man dating a 10 year old child, that would be a big issue, but cmon 21 and 16 is not an extreme difference **especially because I do nothing sexual or weird with her.** You may think it's a too big gap, but since that is your opinion and it also isn't an extremely big gap, you should really not show so much hate to me. We simply disagree about something small. Pedophilia is disgusting and I am against it. Because I'm not one of them."
s_897_1223,"bitcoin-trader.biz closes shop - 2m+ stolen from users This email was received this morning:
Dear Clients
Regrettably I have to announce the failure and closure of Bitcoin Trader. While preparing for the final audit results, a task we were working on for weeks now, our bitcoin wallet has been hacked and emptied, just after exchanging our fiat holdings within the exchanges to bitcoin and transferring our entire holdings to our wallet, in order to proof our solvency. It is a known fact that I personally opposed any proof of solvency, but agreed to conduct it for the sake of a few dozen small and medium investors. The hacker contacted me shortly after he took advantage of our holdings and demanded a ransom in order to transfer the coins back. I have agreed to a 25% ransom of the entire sum, but havent heard back from him for several days now. My aim was to create something based on trust, just as bitcoin itself is based on distributed trust. Unfortunately I must admit today, I have failed. All left to do now is to declare bankruptcy with the Panamanian authorities and to hand over all relevant files and information for further investigation. Sincerely,
John Carley
This same John Carley whose staff has been claiming that he was ""lost at sea"" for close to a week now. Let this be a lesson - trust no one. Anyone who says to ""trust the earnings"" has never been burnt, or is lying to you."
s_1601_203,"I don't live at home, but I am not fully independent yet. By that, I mean I have no bills to pay, so nothing really to worry about. I moved away from my family in February, and the time I'm spending away will come to an end some time in May 2016. I do not want to move back with my parents at all. My plan was to move to a city about 9 hours away with my dog, and to go to school there (in Canada). I am lucky enough to have parents who are saving up money for my education (unless they're lying to me about that ..), so I will be using this money for school, then try to get a job. The city I'll be moving to is really cheap, and is right by the border, which separates it from a major American city, so there is opportunity from two lands there. I think I've matured enough in the last few years to understand that this isn't going to be easy. And I've accepted potential defeat, though I'm still a stubborn kid at heart, and I refuse to fully accept the outcome of potential failure (like moving back with my family). Doesn't mean I wouldn't. Stories like this scare the shit out of me. I like to believe that I'm ready to live alone, and in a sense, I am! I am partially doing it right now. But money wise, I am terrified. I don't want to have debts, I don't want to be worried about where I spend my money. I know how to budget and I can live cheaply (though sometimes I go overboard), but who says I'll be getting a job? Who says I'll be able to live cheaply at all? For instance, I don't need much space so a studio apartment is perfect for me. I found one for less than 400 dollars a month, which is amazing. Everything included. However, a roof over my head is not the only thing I'll be needing to pay for. Of course, bringing a pet into the mix basically means paying hundreds of dollars for it per year. Will I be able to afford it? Also, food. Food is not so cheap in Canada compared to the US. And, transportation. The city I selected doesn't have a good transportation system, meaning I'll have to figure something out. I'm not a fan, plus it's expensive. Summers are hot in that city, and Canadian winters are not really forgiving to bicycles. And ... who says I'll be getting the hours I need from a job? Who says I'll ever get a job at all ...
I'm sorry I'm rambling. I am just terrified of failing."
s_41_1224,i wanna die
s_1899_295,first two days of class are infuriatingly warm and I wear long sleeves and jeans. Third day of class I wear shorts and a tank top and it's the North Pole I hate myself.
s_341_1177,Jigglypuff. I have insomnia.
s_2035_776,Im always happy to have sex with my husband because thats a big way that I give and receive love and build intimacy in our marriage. So for me this is what makes me HL more than hormonal fluctuations. I cant pinpoint certain times of the month that I want sex more or less. I pretty much always want to feel that love and closeness. If Im tired or really stressed out I might not want to but otherwise Im down.
s_1666_264,"I'm just looking forward to college at the moment! I don't know what the future has in store for me but whatever it is, I'll try to get through it!"
s_2632_107,i can sleep after a lil more than an hour
s_2180_26,"Sadly I agree. Before my depression I always felt in control of my life and destiny. I was always someone who took responsibility, never felt sorry for myself, and never played the blame game. Then something changed and now I am opposite and trying to regain control of my life. Even so I agree, it's time to join the transitioners."
s_1899_123,"I am SO angry at myself right now So, I go to a prestigious college which is pretty tough. That being said, I've always been really stressed but developed an anxiety disorder during my junior year and failed out of my program. I transferred to another program in school and was doing well..till now. I tried to take on a heavy course load to make up for the time I've been out of school dealing with anxiety. I was supposed to graduate in 5 weeks. Once again, anxiety reared its ugly head and screwed things up for me. I'm going to probably get a C in a class (Probably) and my GPA just can't handle that. Everyone is telling me to drop it and retake it in summer when I have more time to dedicate to it and I'm not taking 20 credits. I could do that but I'm SO SO SO scared what grad schools are going to think of me. I already had a problem with anxiety once before and had to Withdraw from 2 classes, how will a 3rd W on my transcript look. PROBABLY TERRIBLE. I've been SO SO anxious all day. I need to make a decision by the end of tomorrow and I'm just FREAKING OUT. I can't concentrate on homework at all. Either risk it and possibly get a C or B. Or just withdraw and definitely get a B or higher in summer. I'm so bummed about not graduating in 5 weeks. I feel like I've come so far with my anxiety and now I'm being set back again. I literally feel like there is no grad school that will EVER accept me. I am SO angry at myself right now. Why couldn't I just handle it????"
s_681_475,How does promoting Western cultures on Ghanaians will convert me into being open-minded? I am not telling you to leave but I am really tired that there is a lot of hate towards our nation but those western countries are always been worshipped as God even when they are doing wrong. I am tired.
s_1625_507,"I am in my 60s. I was diagnosed in my teens. It's been an exhausting struggle to mange this mental illness. I am only passively suicidal (suicidal ideation), my life is small and quiet and solitary and I don't do much now that I finally don't have to work any more. I will be dead in the next 15-20 most likely. If I'd have killed myself I'd never have gotten to learn now to have a small and quiet and solitary life where I mostly manage my depression OK. Plus my siblings would still be sad when thinking about me."
s_2407_3,"Need advice/tips Hi everyone. Im seeking some advice and perhaps reassurance regarding my relationship. My boyfriend is my rock, and I know i want to spend the rest of my life with him. Unfortunately, I go to school several states away, and am preparing to leave again in just a month. I cant sleep I feel so anxious about leaving him. Its not that Im worried we will drift or break up, i just truly need advice on how to handle it emotionally. Because of covid i wasnt gone too long at school last year, and in the time since I was last at school I feel like we have just gotten closer and my love for him more deep. I just dont know how Im going to manage being apart, he makes everything so much better. I feel so safe with him and like everything will be okay as long as I have him. So not having him around really scares me simply because he makes me feel safer and less anxious and depressed. Any words of assurance or advice? Tips on how to cope?"
s_114_638,"[<URL>](<URL>) [<URL>](<URL>) Ill repost this, ASD people tends to had more synapse than they need to function in modern society. So signals were several times higher. What would sound like a normal truck would be a constant earrape simulator. And the stem and limbic system were denser too. Hence more automated in doing task and narrow interest. It gives us advantage such as being aware of predator from afar, and knows where our food and water is. But in modern society it becomes a huge downfall. And in long run it drains us quickly. I tend to fell asleep and laid down as soon as I get home."
s_117_193,"I don't feel guilty, just generally bad because being triggered is not fun. My fiance feels really guilty that he triggered me, though. I probably should have been more clear on that. And yeah, communication is super important. I couldn't talk about it right away because I was too busy freaking out but I made sure to explain what happened as soon as I calmed down, and he totally understood and was very supportive."
s_2669_4,"Hello how's it going? Life's really tough man I have MDD as well, life sucks man but you gotta stay put for the people who need you and depend on you. Fun fact I've been in my bed since Monday, I don't have the motivation to get out of bed, sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in my body. I get tired very easily. I started renovating my room to get my head out of bad thought, needless to say my room isn't done yet it's been a month everything is awful, sometimes I get a burst of energy and do a bit of work on my room but I get tired real easily everything is such a task with depression. I hope you find you way. Fellow depressed person"
s_1404_820,"There is nothing I enjoy in life, and the things I might enjoy are impossibl to achieve. I have no hobby. I always loved gaming but I grew tired of it. I don't enjoy it anymore. People have told me about so many hobby ideas, but there is nothing I like. I also live in a small village and here is nothing fun to do. The nearest city is one hour away and traveling costs me too much energy. I tried for a long time to find myself a hobby that makes me happy and I gave up. I now accepted that I don't have any hobby and I just kill my time with gaming and youtube. There is nothing that I enjoy. I don't enjoy eating my favorite food anymore, I don't enjoy gaming, I don't enjoy being with my friends... I've done all these things for my whole life and its becoming boring. I want something new in my life. I know what I want, I want a girlfriend. Having someone to love and hug and cuddle seems really nice to me. But it's impossible. The fact I'm unattractive and the circumstances of my life make it completely impossiblefor me to get a girlfriend. And what annoys me is people who say ""be happy with yourself before going to date"" while being single is literally the reason im so depressed. I dont know what to do. I dont enjoy my life anymore. I hate it alot. All I do is working hard and killing time. What am I supposed to do??? How can I ever enjoy life again? The things I can do became boring, the things I want to achieve are impossible. Note: I have depression and im trying medicine treatment with my psychiatrist."
s_1777_14,"ASIDE: (Please do not read this and then read my wall of text, your perspective would more than likely be changed. This is my ""self"" interpretation of my perceptual glasses looking at this game.) Now I'd like to add in my ""self"" perspective on all this. I don't want to play the game at all. I want know part in it. I don't want to be happy or anything else. I enjoy the toys I have but at the end of the day I recognize that there is no end game and that leaves me unfulfilled. Am I depressed? Yes, but also not exactly. If anything it gravitates toward nihilism. All of my hobbies and interests go unfulfilled and eventually they no longer make me happy because I realize how very boring it all actually is. The only thing that makes me happy is making other living things happy, people obviously included. More than that; As a mere mortal ape I would love the opportunity to become no one in the next life. This isn't for me and I'm tired of playing this ridiculous game that goes on forever. I'm not necessarily suicidal, but at the same time I am. Really hard to explain to someone that you don't want to live but you don't want to die. From a young age I've had a fascination with miniatures from city building games to toys and everything in between. I was never very good at them though, because I never knew what the ""right"" move was because I've always felt that the ""right"" move is totally based on your point of view. I'd have more fun clicking play and watching it grow on it's own. To see all the little deviations it creates and all the wonders and disasters that come with every little variation with no influence from me because I simply can't make a decision on the ""right"" move. They're all the right move depending on your perception. This is the same reason I've always been a bad speaker and came off as shy or awkward in conversation (I know, now I'm getting personal but I'd like to get this off my chest.) Someone could say something to me and I just go blank, I don't know what to say next. It's really hard to explain but I think you grasp the idea. I could never decide on anything. Which pet, which spouse, which family member (Family is not immune to this.), which of anything because they could all be the right decision. It's kind of a curse really but I just wanted to get a little ""self"" and perspective into this. Comment what you wish."
s_201_11,"Had a very bad breakdown/anxiety attack in school today. Long and heart wrenching story short, my bestfriend, who was my boyfriend for a very long time up until he tried to kill himself a month ago and came back saying he wanted a break because he might be gay. Well, today, walking to lunch, I saw him holding this girl M's hand... I don't know what came over me, but I screamed ""I can't! and ran into the bathroom, where coincidentally my best friend Chloe had been. I started screaming and crying and, apparently, I said ""I just want to die"" a few times. M, who has actually been making mine and his life a living hell for months, came in and started yelling at me, saying ""What the fuck is wrong? Is it because w were holding hands? He's gay, get over it!"" and I just died inside at that point, because, if he really is gay, I'm losing everything I had at one point, indefinitely. I guess I kept asking her to stop but she wouldn't so Chloe made her leave, and while Chloe was gone, I threw up all over myself while I cried. A counselor came in and took me to the office where my favorite teacher (guy. suffers from anxiety and depression) let me just vent, since he knows everything I have gone through with bestfriend/boyfriend person. I had to write an incident report because of what Madison did and shit. I got calmed down and when I finally started walking back to class, I saw M with bestfriend/boyfriend's beanie... I died a little and went to class with tears in my eyes, as always. After that class ended, I went to bestfriend/boyfriend- let's start calling him J- and said ""I don't think you mean to, but you're breaking my heart."" and he just looked at me and said he was sorry, and explained him and M have nothing going on at all, and he just held her hand for a moment to calm her down. I explained how awful it is, since I used to mean everything to him and now I feel like I mean nothing at all to him. He said, and I quote ""I never meant to push anyone out, especially not you. You still mean a lot to me. Like, a lot, I just..."" I then said ""Do we have a chance anymore, J?"" to which he responded to by shrugging and saying ""I don't know."" and then he gave me a hug and I whispered ""I'm sorry"" into his neck and he just gave me the saddest look I've ever seen and went into art textiles...
I know he really doesn't know. He's not saying it because he doesn't have the guts to say no. He's just extremely fucking confused with everything at the moment. This is the first time since he got back that I've actually expressed that this is effecting me negatively, and I didn't even really express it to him. Two of our friends are going to talk to him about this tomorrow, because they are both quite pissed about the way he's handling this, especially after today...
I miss what I had, and I don't know why I feel so broken. I really just want to die, to be honest. It would feel a lot better than this... I'm cutting again, I've stopped taking my meds... I just... I've been suffering in silence for a month. Today, I broke that silence, but in the wrong way, and to the wrong person...
Sorry for that wall of text."
s_2415_398,"I am similar. I actually dropped out this semester and the anxiety I get about future is horrible. I just don't know myself. I was declared a loser by most people but now people tell me I should believe in myself and work hard for success. I don't know what to believe. Am I a loser or not? If not, why everyone around me convinced me I am one for all these years? Why did they always point out my flaws? Why did they never believed in me? But now they imply you have only two options in life:
1- Work hard and be successful. 2- Be a loser and let the system decide your fate. Well, if that's the case shouldn't I had started working harder earlier in life instead of perceiving myself a loser? It's just so hard for me to know who I am now as a nineteen-year-old."
s_993_798,I prefer neither. Both are equally terrifying. Although it's relatively hard to judge when I am hypo. So that's makes me question my decisions a lot.
s_117_857,"That is a really tough issue. In my current relationship everything works out because I'm not totally opposed to sex, and we're also poly so my partner is free to have sex with someone else if he wants. But we aren't married and don't have any kids, so I can't give you any perspective there. What I can tell you is that you shouldn't feel horrible or that you're a freak. You can't help wanting to have sex with your wife - you're a sexual person, and I'm sure you love her very much. However, speaking from an asexual perspective, I probably understand your wife's situation better than I do yours. I sometimes feel guilty about the fact that my SO and I aren't entirely sexually compatible. I know that he wants to please me and share physical contact with me; that is a core part of a relationship for most people. Whenever we are intimate, I can tell that he wishes he could do more for me, but I'm just not that into sex. And then I feel bad because he feels bad, even though it's neither of our faults. I think that's a key point here - this isn't anyone's fault. You can't help having desires, and she can't help not having them. Both of you are perfectly normal in this. But it is causing friction in your marriage, so it does have to be dealt with. If you've been married long enough that you have more than one child I assume you've probably been through a lot together, and you love each other and want to make each other happy. Start from there. Have a conversation about this with your wife. Remember that no one is the guilty party here, and have a frank discussion about your feelings. Be honest with each other. Once you figure out what each person wants and needs, you can work together to form a strategy to fix the issues you're having. This doesn't have to be a huge issue in your relationship, but it will only get worse if you don't communicate about it."
s_2593_426,"feeling worthless I feel like I'm worthless. Like all I do is mess up everything at work and at home. Why would anyone actually love me or want to be my friend when there are so many people like me who are better for them when I'm broken and come along with so much baggage. Would anyone really miss me if I were gone when I'm just a side character even in my own life. Maybe its depression talking but even that feels fake, I feel fake. My problems are pointless, there's someone who needs so I'd feel guilty taking help away from them."
s_1194_33,sleep melatonin has anyone taken a melatonin pill to make you sleep during the day. i just feel really depressed and anxious and i wanna sleep but im not tired so i cant force myself. ive always avoided taking melatonins because the affect afterwards i heard it can make you drowsy and other stuff which i really wanna avoid itll trigger my health anxiety even more..
s_2338_1027,"[Rant][NSV] Giving up preconceived notions and curing an addiction. It's really encouraging to see people losing 20 pounds in the first month. But it's also frustrating to get through my own first month and only have lost 10 pounds. I've basically plateaued since after the first week. I've had a couple of cheat meals (one being yesterday), and it seems like it takes my weight forever to get back on track even though I'm pissing dark pink on the sticks and have smelly breath. I posted a comment not too long ago about waiting to exercise until I'm down some more weight, but I decided with my current frustration to change my mind. I'm starting some light weight training tonight with my husband. I'm giving up most of the artificially sweetened things that were staples of my beginning keto diet. I have to remind myself that my progress will probably be slower than others', since in the past 18 months I've lost 50 pounds and gained 30 back. I know yo-yo dieting has an effect on speed of weight loss, as well as my PCOS (and, therefore, insulin resistance), hypothyroidism, and IBS. One thing I will say for certain that I'm very pleased with: my sugar addiction is gone. It was so bad before I got married and started keto that about twice a month I would have this enormous craving for cookies or cake and go to Wal-Mart to fulfill my desires. For those of you with insulin resistance and former sugar addiction, you know this craving was basically insatiable. You'd go, eat half the carton of oreos (or even the whole carton if it was a particularly bad one) and then feel like death was coming afterwards. Now, I have that deathy feeling even after a small cheat. I get tired, my eyes go cross, my anxiety creeps back up on me. It's horrendous. This morning, for example, I feel like death and an overly inflated balloon. I had one of my sister's famous brownies yesterday and I felt like hell the rest of the day. So even though I'm frustrated at my lack of success, thank you, /r/keto, for curing my addiction."
s_993_1080,I am sorry to say this but only you can make this decision. It's a tough decision no doubt. I was in banking industry and had lots of mental breakdown etc. I took a break thought that job was the problem ...maybe it is...tried looking for other job where my illness won't affect me much.. couldn't find one So now I am back in banking with more responsibility than before. I had 6 months for the switch as I was in another job. Each day I dreaded if I am making the right choice. Will I suffer breakdowns. Is it worth it to go back to square one. But I was not getting younger so this was it. I have taken the job and I am kinda doing okay for now. I don't know about the future. So TL:DR You might always have this fear of having mental breakdowns...it's natural after going through it... We always have to choose between advancing in career and mental stability...bitter truth...atleast I had to. It's just how much you could sacrifice. Your mental health is foremost. It should not be to the point of mental breakdowns. So know your triggers foremost...like you said it was pandemic and a bad breakup before. Just go back and analyze yourself. Talk to friends and family as they would have much clearer picture. Try to have a plan to handle those triggers. Based on your post I feel you should go for it. I feel it's kinda important to you professionally. Taking risks is a part of life. Just before going in evaluate everything...get in touch with alumni and difficulties they faced...if you can defer it a bit then do so...as you can self evaluate more...try working a bit and then go for it...maybe a year or two you have done the bachelor's so half the battle is done. Also you are now diagnosed so keep a lookout for warning signs. It would help if you don't go spiralling down and get help beforehand. But please be in touch with a mental health professional too.
s_3028_322,"Moving from Luvox I really want to switch from Luvox because of the side effects. Mainly, my sleep schedule has really been affected. Has anyone had any experience with Luvox? Any advice?"
s_1116_1150,"Let me complain about my withdrawal a lot. I was put on 10mg of Paxil at age 11, maybe 10 at the youngest. At around 17 I was put on 20mg, and in my 20s (I'm 24 now) I was put on 40mg. I've been feeling like my medicine isn't doing as much as it used to, and have been since I was 17. The doc thought it would help to keep increasing the dose, but finally I said I don't think increasing the dose would help a lot. So she switched me to 20mg (to start) Prozac, and told me to go down to half a dose of Paxil for a week, stop taking it, then switch to Prozac. Well, Monday (the 4th) was my last Paxil day, and I feel like complete shit now. Headaches, those electrical shocks in my head (I'm sure you know what I'm talking about), the nausea, the back aches, the dizziness...just ugh. It totally feels like the flu. I'm sweating enough to fill a swimming pool. I've always been an easy crier, but now I can cry just on command. I go back to the doc in April, I just hope it's better by then. Also, yes, I'm aware a week is a very short time for Paxil to be weaned off of. But it's been 5 days, I may as well ride it out, since it wasn't doing much for me anymore anyway. On the bright side, at least I haven't found a job yet. Working like this? And finally, old suicide wishes are spring back up, but I don't have to worry about that since I would feel really bad for my grandma if I did, so I'm putting it off until she dies, at least. I've been dealing with it for more than a decade, it's just a little stronger now."
s_2023_1299,I cry every time
s_1882_627,"This is the 2nd time in 3 weeks I tried to drunk drive. I don't know what it is. I don't want to die but I think it's that if I do, then I know people will care about me. A lot of my childhood and teenage years I was bullied and didn't have a lot of friends, this turned me cold and emotionless. Now that I'm in college and nothing from my past is with me, I have a lot of people who care for me but I still can't comprehend it. I don't think I'm suicidal but I think I'm insane. Each time I've had people talk me out of it and make sure that I knew that I was special. It's helped but there is still just something there. Something that makes me want to get behind the wheel and risk it all. I've also been getting more fucked up at parties, last Saturday I snorted vodka to feel a rush. I've been getting trashed and that has just worsened my intentions. Right now I am a mess. I've considered talking to a therapist."
s_2100_283,"Haha thanks man :) I wanna write the first half of your comment up and tape it to my wall so I can get reminded every morning. Actually yeah, I'm totally gonna do that. :p
Also yep, I am clinically depressed, but I think I've more or less accepted it at this point. I gotta move forward and do my best on good days, and then on bad days, I need to remember that it's okay to take a step back and not be too critical of myself."
s_342_141,"I can't take it anymore, how do you guys do it? I can't fucking take it anymore. I can't take this wage slave society in America. If they think I'm going to be a wage slave my entire life, they've got another thing coming. I'd rather kill myself. In fact, that's another reason added to the list. I can't fucking take it anymore. As you can tell, I'm severely depressed and have one foot out the door already. How do you guys handle being wage slaves? Or, if you're not, how did you avoid it? Thinking of only living my life just to survive sounds God awful, I can't take it anymore."
s_1499_700,"Thank you. I just needed another opinion to boost my confidence in my plan. I don't want to make a big deal out of it so I'll basically tell them how it's going to be (just the four people standing) and then ask if they'd like to be part of all the events and stuff as part of the wedding party. They don't have to know I don't consider them official I think. They just need to know they're not standing but that I still want them there. It's still an offer, even if it's a little different than they might have imagined. Also yeah, my fianc is kind of a boss and I love him. He kicks ass. He's my polar opposite in many ways but it's good for us. And the day he confessed about the money thing I cried. I cried so hard. He saw how miserable and upset I was and was willing to take a big financial loss over just a small hope that my dad would turn around. He's been so supportive through this whole thing and he's my best friend. I can't wait to marry this guy."
s_587_278,For shame on me for getting drunk after a long day of work. How dare I comment on a post without being accepting to trolling. Ill kill myself now.
s_1625_611,"The best thing I ever did for myself was to stop verbally abusing myself. No more ""lazy, fat, stupid, useless, unmotivated, dull"" etc etc whatever. Even on days that don't go well, I tell myself I did the best I could for that day (which is true)."
s_2448_411,"I've been losing confidence in myself lately which makes me worried about doing a shit job, so I was hoping for advice on how to be a better leader. Thank you all for your suggestions!"
s_2455_48,"LPT Request: How do get rid of daily fatigue and feel more energetic? A little about myself. I wake up at 6:30am, get to school, stay at the library from 7:30am to 1:30pm. Head back home at 3:00pm. I'm so tired from thinking that I nap from 3:00 to 6:00 pm. Then from 6pm to midnight I'm so fatigued from napping that I essentially watch Netflix and TV. I have no problem getting to sleep though, but my I'm fatigued the entire time I'm awake."
s_2402_1044,It's getting harder and harder to ignore the urge to self-harm. I'm 2 months clean and all that's on my mind is self-harm. I'm getting too stressed and all I want to do is cut myself or drink myself to death. Please help. Why can't I just give in?
s_2402_1130,"Nothings felt real for the past few days and I don't know what to do about it. I have a few issues. If you go through my post history you can see them. I have no idea what to do abou this, this is the longest its lasted and theres only 2 ways I can see this ending. Me killing myself or causing major harm to myself. Why aren't things real anymore?"
s_2833_1068,"Voices of Recovery - Daily Meditation: Dec 20 December 20 Step Two offers hope that sanity is possible, and at the same time it implies that, in our addiction, we were insane. Sex Addicts Anonymous, page 25 When I first read this sentence, I had to pause and ask myself if I were truly insane. Step One required me to admit that I am a sex addict and a sexual anorexic, that I am powerless over these illnesses, and that my life is unmanageable by me. Since I believe that I am a sex addict and a sexual anorexic, that means I have a disease of the mind, body, and spirit that reacts very negatively to all sexual stimuli. For me, unhealthy sexual stimuli can lead to addictive sexual behaviors, and healthy sexual stimuli, such as sexual intimacy with my husband, can lead to sexual avoidance or addictive sexual behaviors. But, being a sex addict also means I have a mental obsession with sexual stimuli of all kinds. To me, thats like someone with a peanut allergy having a mental obsession with finding and eating peanuts. Wouldnt I call that person insane? Yes, I would. So it clearly means that I am, in fact, insane. Without God and the SAA program, my default desires are to harm myself with addictive sexual behavior and starve myself of healthy sexuality. Believing God can restore me to sanity means believing that God will change my whole being so that I no longer desire harmful sexual stimuli and I no longer avoid nurturing sexual stimuli, one day and one step at a time. May I be willing to go to any lengths today to be restored to sanity."
s_2176_610,"My twin brother got in trouble because I taught my lil cousin the word ""pussy"". When asked, the little angel pointed at my twin brother, mistaking him from me. I feel guilty, but I will be seeing him in the afterlife."
s_71_289,I have a very hard time just sitting still sometimes. Cleaning relieves my anxiety a bit. I can't be alone with my thoughts so I try to focus on something to try and suppress the thoughts.
s_1551_7,"Fleeting motivation Such a fickle bitch it is, one moment its there and the next day poof its gone. I have old injuries that need to be corrected, but for years I always put it off because I had zero motivation and gave up. On top of relationship, family, and other health concerns. This past year Ive been slowing gaining momentum and Im feeling a lot better. But now I feel like Im hitting a wall, it becomes so frustrating I feel like I get burnt out, and then end up feeling like I need to force myself into doing something however I just end up thinking about it all day and maybe do it last minute if that, and if I dont do it i really beat myself up over it the next day and it becomes harder. I know doing these things is for the best, and it seems to be the only hurdle in my way to move forward and be happy, but when I hit that wall my mind shuts off and things seem kinda hopeless all over again. The loneliness and zero support probably doesnt help. I find myself praying to god to heal my body every night. And every day when the frustration gets to be to much I just scream and question why this had to happen to me. If these injuries never happened Id probably have had a happier and better last 5 years. So much time lost, opportunities lost, potential memories lost. And I know getting in my own head is just wasting more time but being aware of that now doesnt motivate me at all, it only makes it worse."
s_1465_799,"Owls say ""hoo."" That's the joke I was going for. I failed spectacularly."
s_117_153,"I have an extremely low sex drive so I don't usually initiate sex. But I'm sex-neutral so I don't mind doing it. My main motivation is emotional rather than physical - I like being close to them, and making them feel good, so even though I could care less about getting off I still enjoy it. Not all asexual people feel that way, though - some of them are sex-repulsed (also called sex-averse) and don't like sex at all. Even the thought of it grosses them out o makes them uncomfortable. My opinion is more of a resounding ""meh."""
s_2013_32,"Trouble getting a good sleep I constantly wake up at around 3 or 4 AM everyday and even if I do sleep, I don't really feel refreshing ever since I've been diagnosed with gerd and elevated my sleep. I don't wake up with acid in my mouth either What could be the cause?"
s_1499_1081,"Just had a two hour phone conversation with one of my best and oldest friends. It may have saved my life. I have been feeling really... Not great, for a while. Not suicidal or anything, but not like I wanted to be alive, either. I'm overwhelmed. To put it lightly. I've known this person since we were four or five years old. We've always been friends. Even when he moved across the country two years ago to be with his girlfriend, we still caught up and saw each other when we could. That girlfriend broke up with him, so he called me tonight to vent and just bounce ideas. But he just reminded me that I'm not alone, that we're very similar people and that we care about each other and are great friends. In a moment where I felt very alone, he unknowingly reminded me that I am not alone at all. Pick up the phone. See your ""person"" or any person you know you can just vent to, or even just talk about meaningless stuff with. Relate to someone for a bit. I hope it gives you as much relief as it's giving me right now."
s_2747_220,"Change in interests. Since I've started taking Adderall back in March, I've lost interest in things I use to do a lot. I stopped watching video gaming channels, I stopped enjoying video games as much in general. And I re-took up and interest in writing short stories and drawing. Anybody else have a similar reaction to Adderall? Just some things stopped being enjoyable and others became WAY more enjoyable? The time I spent lost in a video game, I spend lost in writing or drawing. And I don't miss the things I enjoyed before, I quite oppositely enjoy the things I enjoy now far more than I ever did the things I enjoyed before the Adderall. I also use to enjoy eating, now it just feels like a chore I have to do to stop feeling shaky."
s_481_30,"[17/m] I'm in a triangle with two friends and it's driving me insane, would love some advice :) So I've been friends with this girl I really like, and long story short, I really think I love her. I know it sounds stupid af, but just hear me out. I've never even tried to be in love because I'm so scared of a broken heart. Then she came along, and we became friends. We hang out a lot after school and text. We even have the gold heart thing on Snapchat. It sounds cringy, I know, just hang in there :D
On Snapchat, she sends me pictures where she clearly poses and takes the time to make them look good. Some of my friends actually thinks we're dating, but we're not. I say some because I think she likes another guy, and he happens to be my close friend. While she acts like she likes me (she must just be really polite idk), she's more physical with him (he sits in her lap and sleeps on her shoulder). I've also seen her drawings of him playing the piano (she's a really good artist). He's a really good guy, and if there is a thing between those two, I would hate to be a jerk to either of them and get in the way. We're both (the other guy and me) really good at the piano and we both play video games. I guess I have more in common with her than he does cuz we (the girl and me) love to write and watch anime (the other guy doesn't do either). All three of us are pretty weird though even though we're all well liked as people at school. The problem is that I actually really like her. I've never felt this way with anyone and I sometimes feel like I'm accidentally gonna blurt out ""I love you."" This whole unofficial love triangle has been going on for months now, and it's driving me insane. The one time I actually feel emotionally invested in someone, I know it's just a dead end because I have a long history of losing. The other part of me wants to desperately win because I don't think I'll ever find someone quite as unique as her. I might get close and I might find other unique people, but she's special. Bottom line, I think I'm being led on, and she's going to eventually fall in love with him. I'm just so freaking terrified by this because I know it's going to break my heart. And isn't that why I never tried to get close with a girl before? I have planned my final attempt. If this doesn't win her heart, then I'm dropping it, and I'll deal with the sadness. I wrote her a song that's not specifically addressed to her, but she'll realize at the end who I'm referring to. I already booked a slot in the upcoming Valentine's Day assembly at school so I'm pretty set on doing this. Other than that, do you think that I should just drop it? If so, if you could give me some coping mechanisms to deal with the pain, that would be awesome. Thanks, and you're the best :)
tl;dr I'm in a love triangle and it's driving me insane. I want to succeed, but my low confidence tells me that I'm going to fail. I feel really upset by this."
s_1609_780,"As a teen whose waiting for marriage, I'm honestly afraid that once I fully enter the ""dating world,"" I'll be rejected for my choice to wait. I know that if he isn't willing to wait either, I should be strong in my decision, but sex is such a regular thing in relationships now, it terrifies me. I've been told that a relationship isn't a real relationship without sex. That terrifies me..."
s_969_1077,"I'm fasting today, when do I go into starvation mode? I've been fasting since early this morning; no food and no water. Since starvation mode is activated when you eat too little, I'm wondering exactly when it starts? I would really like some free energy right now. Anyone have tips to make it begin? I'm starting to feel weak...
Edit: oy, Poe's law. In case people didn't get it, this is satire. I am really fasting though. Thankfully it ends soon after sundown."
s_2663_68,"The sad thing is, the anxiety and paranoia i got from that period has never left me. I tried to kill myself a few more times. And it was 3 years before I finally was clean of amphetamines. I got into a rehab unit and was prescribed dexamphetamine to wean me off the crystal. It was a truly horrible time man."
s_699_4,"Im in pain every day of my life. Have been for the last 2 years. Theres been many nights where i have physically and mentally broken down because i cant handle it anymore. All i can tell you is you gotta keep going man. No matter how hard it is keep going I know this sounds mundane. but when you are feeling down just telling yourself that you gotta keep going might help sometimes. i have nothing to live for personally. Nerve damage destroys a persons life financially and physically. All im asking you is please stay around, ive lost a friend that shot himself and nobody still knows why. Nobody knew he was hurting, all he had to do was show it. Your familly might be more help than you think at this time. Even helping a friend with a project gives you a point in life."
s_759_234,"It was mutual in the beginning because I wanted to move onto the next stage of my life. I graduated with a Masters in SE in 2010. So i figured a year or two later I'd go to india and start the search. But apparently going to India and finding a wife at age 24 is too young. While my college friends had already went and gotten married. So i figured id wait till girls in India were ready. Now that im 27 its probably the right time but now I just feel like theres a huge barrier. Because im having a very hard time connecting with girls lol. I've kind of lost my self esteem and confidence because I have no control over this process. My parents were just very adamant on getting me hitched with this one girl because her family was good. But i just wasnt attracted to her so I just pushed it off cause there wasnt any other choices. And any other choices that did come up then my parents would just find reasons for why I shouldnt marry her. So it was a pain. Few months ago I showed them someone that I was interested in and they were very pissed off and started emotionally black mailing me so I just said heck with it and told them to start the search again. So right now im in a limbo state of what I want to do. There are girls in India but I have a very hard time connecting with them. I cant match up with their standards and they cant match up with mine. I wouldnt mind dropping my standard if the girl was someone I knew, could relate to, etc but its very hard when u have to go based on a biodata and then have the uncles in india do a background search and then finally, maybe... get to talk to her. Though usually its their parents u talk to first. Lol its just a complete mess of a system. Growing up in an indian community and having lived in india for 7 yrs i thought i would be able to understand, relate and work with the system. But honestly its just a horrible system. Its really a quasi marketplace where you're bartering each other. Maybe this is a approach that keeps the family stable in the long run. But im not sure if it keeps the family happy in the long run. Plus lol i sent an email to one of the fathers and he replied back with ""how long r u in us? Whats ur salary?"" I didnt mind most of the questions but how can you so easily ask for someones salary. I havent even talked to ur daughter and know if she and I will get along. Lol its just ridiculous. Plus, most girls in India dont really want to go to US. The economy there is in a better condition than it was before so they feel as if they have no reason to come here."
s_1455_263,"I [29/M] finally hit 30 days NC with my [30/F] ex after a two years of trying. Thoughts inside. Well it's officially been 39 days since we last had correspondence, but who's counting right? **HOW IT STARTED:** After a 7 year relationship we broke up. I tried to get back with her but she didn't want to. I went through emotional hell for a six months with contact between us every few days. Then I got a girlfriend. After that we still kept talking. She expressed being upset that I had a girl. I dumped my girl hoping to get back with my ex. Bad move. After that the NC period increased to weekly then eventually to every two weeks. After having enough, I told her to stop texting me in July because she didn't really care about me. The NC period has been increasing since then hitting a previous high of 17 days. **HOW I FEEL NOW:** I don't really know how to describe how I feel. I guess ambivalent is a good word. I have been fortunate enough to be busy recently so I didn't notice. After awhile after the days start piling up it becomes easier. I wish I could say I had closure and everything was well. But I don't. I have no idea what she's doing, who's she's with, or even if she's alive for that matter. As for my own love life, I have the benefit of having numerous attractive women who want to be in my company. I date one in particular at the moment. But to be honest I'm scared of getting too attached because of being burned from my last relationship. **THOUGHTS ABOUT NC:** I'm conflicted. On one hand I do believe that it is in the grieving party's best interest to cut contact ASAP but on the other hand it's all situational. I was with someone for 7 years, it would be impossible for me to just stop talking to her unless what she did was very foul. But I'm also a results kinda guy, and since none of the talking resulted in us getting back togeter I'd just have rather never talked to her again. What was the point? Also, I will say that after 30 days nothing magical happens. Just an FYI
**ADVICE GOING FORWARD:** If you're suffering, I would advise making yourself busy and moving on from you ex. If you talk, don't listen to what they say, watch what they do. I made that mistake and never will again. I asked a good friend how he moved on from his similar situation and these were his wise words:
""How did I get over the relationship... I didn't. You're not supposed to - not if it has real history and depth and if you both had long stretches during which you truly felt an unselfish love for each other. I carry that loss with me, and I'm lucky if I make it a full day without thinking about her at least once. We dated for 7 years - that's longer than plenty of marriages. It ended for a lot of reasons, but the primary one is that there came a time when we valued the relationship more than we valued each other - what I mean is that we didn't want to lose the relationship, so we started to hide shit from each other, be dishonest about what we wanted and needed at different times... Also, life is just a bitch sometimes. Timing is a bitch. Circumstance is a bitch."" Ironically that made me feel better. He's living his life of course, but he kept it real. Best of luck to others on this journey of recovery. **tl;dr**: Was together 7 years, broken up for 2, FINALLY hit the 30 day NC period."
s_975_53,"I think for me, it was just the way I was brought up. My mom was pretty hard on me and told me I was never good enough when I didn't get the best marks in school or if I wasn't active in school activities like other kids. So i grew up with an inferiority complex that just so happens to be more noticeable now that I'm older lol. I also dream of having someone, but I shy away from it because I feel like I'm never good enough. I realize that I should be working on myself first and foremost before finding prince charming lol."
s_993_774,It's beautiful. Now I wanna do Calligraphy. Sadly I know I won't have the energy to do it.
s_1516_703,"No, you're right. I'm the one getting angry and defensive lol. Have a good day on the internet!"
s_18_1065,"I feel constantly pissed off and depressed. Not quite at the level I used to, but I'm not used to it and I don't know why I feel this way. <URL>
This is a link to an AMA I did a while back for adults wanting to know about my previous experience with depression. I haven't felt like this in years. Yes I've asked myself why I feel this way. Zippidy-doo-da. Constantly bored with life. Not to the point where I'm considering suicide, but I just don't feel good."
s_199_16,"The Mystery Of Fallen Creek Orphanage Part 2; Ending First Part: <URL>
(This part is dedicated to Gorey58, a great Reddit user.) As the days pass, I'm getting less and less sleep... My eyes are heavy with weariness, and it is becoming harder to focus in school. I find myself falling asleep in all my classes. Now I am afraid of falling asleep when I ride my bike back to the orphanage. The noises occur every night. The other boys try to sleep as best as they can. The creepy noises are freaking everyone out. We've heard footsteps of little children playing, and laughing. Other times you can hear crying, and scratching behind our dorm room door. The boys and I have huddled our bunk beds together as far away from the door. We've also barricaded it and placed metal cans around it in case whatever is outside decides to come in. We've told the girls to do the same thing as well. I do not how long I am going to last in this place. I seem to have a connection with all of the creepiness going on. We try to sleep by blocking the sounds out with cotton or something that we can plug into our ears, at least it gives some sort of relief. As the day went by, it was time to go to bed again. I walked towards my dorm room as the lights were getting turned off. As usual, I was the last one who got there. All the other boys were already in their bunk beds. I made sure the door was nice and locked and proceeded to my bed which was not that far away from the door. Normally, when I go to sleep, I try to sleep as fast as possible. This time, I couldn't make myself sleep. I kept thinking about a lot of memories that were passing through my mind. I tried to ignore the chill, creepy laughter that had just started outside the dorm-room door. When I want to move away from the noise, and chaos, I end up zoning out. As I was laying on the top bunk, my mind drifted away to my memories, I felt the noises lessen, as I started to remember my past. I saw the face of my Great Aunt, smiling, her white-crested teeth showing. The sunshine from the window was casting an aurora on her making her seem like she was glowing. My Great aunt was the best. Ever since my parents had died, I have been with her. I hardly remember my parents, it was like they just vanished, gone. All I knew was that I was put in the care of my Great Aunt. I forgot to mention her name. Her real name is Margareaux Gilbert but she likes to be called Aunt Maggie. I have been with her for 13 years. She took care of me, and taught me everything. The scented aroma of her cooking still makes my mouth water. Aunt Maggie was also a great teacher. She homeschooled me in the classroom that she made as part of her 2 story, humble house in a quiet neighborhood outside of town. It was very peaceful there. I remember the pictures of her husband, Donald Gilbert, a veteran who died while he was fighting in the army. I recollected Aunt Maggie's sullen expression when she returned home from a checkup at the hospital one day. She came and wrapped me in a hug as her eyes filled with tears. I asked her what was wrong. She didn't answer. That night, she made a whole table filled with all of my favorite dishes. She played games with me. She hugged me more. I told her that I loved her,( I don't know, it just came out automatically), Aunt Maggie smiled and told me that I will never be alone. I did not get what that meant at that time. Aunt Maggie came in that night to my room. She sat at the bed for a few minutes and just rubbed my forehead. She told me she will miss me. I was confused, but her soft, gentle, hand soothed me to sleep. The next day, I woke up extra early to make Aunt Maggie a surprise breakfast. I wanted to show her how much I appreciated everything she's done for me. I fixed the breakfast, and brought it in a tray to Aunt Maggie's room door. I called her name twice, no answer. I opened the door to the bed where I saw the sight that made me drop my tray. Aunt Maggie was lying there, the blood drained from her face, her pupils were red, and there was blood dripping from her mouth. The white sheets of the bed were shaded a dark, bloody, red. Aunt Maggie had veins sticking out of her arms and face, almost as if her body tensed up from the inside. Her once peaceful face, was now a sight of horror. Her eyes stared upward into darkness, and her whole body was a pale, gray, color. I will never forget that sight. I called the police, and soon a whole group of trucks, police cars, and ambulances surrounded the house. I sat on the stairway of the porch watching them take Aunt Maggie's lifeless body away on a stretcher. The doctor came up and sat next to me. He asked if me if I noticed anything wrong with my aunt when she returned home that day. I told him that Aunt Maggie did seem depressed that night. I told him everything that happened. He told me the autopsy report that they just conducted. My aunt had a disease (the name was too long to write down) that messed with the internal organs of her body. Her bodily functions just stopped working, and sort of exploded. It caused blood ruptures to spread everywhere,(that explained the red pupils). The doctor told me that the disease had a very painful process as it destroyed the body. The thought left me in more tears. The doctor sadly patted my back as he went away. The health officials brought me to the orphanage the next day. Before that, I was in the hospital for tests to make sure that I did not contain the disease. When I was taken to the orphanage, it was the most gloomiest day of my life. I remember that day so vividly. The sun was blocked out by the stormy clouds that were closing in. The officials brought me through the front gates to the grumpy old head mistress. She looked at all my files, and thanked the officials for coming. And from that day on, the orphanage became my new home. My mind returned back to reality when I was startled by a loud scream that echoed through my eardrums. All the other boys were awaken by the shriek. We then heard our names being called out by voices behind the dorm room door. I got out of bed and ran to the door. The boys were close behind me. I slowly unlocked the door and opened it. Behind it was.......nothing. Just the chill air of the creepy orphanage that greeted me. I turned to look back at the boys. Their faces had a petrified look filled with fear. I told them to stay put. Surprisingly, they listened. They all returned to their bunk beds...all except for Jimmy. I've mentioned Jimmy before. He was my so-called ""acquaintance"" who actually talked to me. He knew many secrets about this orphanage. No one knows Jimmy's background, or where he was even born. Everyone's files are kept in the head mistress' main office. Anyways, Jimmy asked me where I was going. I told him that I'm going to figure out what's wrong with this place. Why all the creepy children's voices started when I arrived here, there must be some connection. Jimmy stared at me and smiled. He replied, ""Well, looks like you'll need some help than."" Before I could tell him that this may get him into trouble too, he raced back to his lower bunk in the corner and pulled out a bag from under the bed. He took something that looked like a photograph and stared at it for a few seconds. He then put it back in his bag and slid it under the bed. "" he said silently as he walked past me through the dorm room door. To be honest, I've never seen the hallways of the orphanage late at night before. We always stayed in our dorm room, and no one dared to go out at night especially since the creepy noises had started. ( If you're wondering, we have a bathroom in our room, so we did not have to go out of the room in case of an emergency). Jimmy and I made our way slowly to the end of the hallway. For some reason, they didn't have security cameras at this end of the corridor, so we were fine for now. The dark, gloomy, corridor had many doors leading to many places. There were barely any lights except for the dim rays that seeped through the windows from the full moon outside. Jimmy spotted a vent system that was just a few inches from the ground. It looked big enough for us to fit through(how convenient). Jimmy broke open the loose hinges that held it up in place, and told me to follow him. He told me that this vent lead to the main offices. I wondered how he knew that, but that thought quickly slipped away when I heard a chill scream echo through the vents. The scream was coming from our right inside the vent. Jimmy told me to stick behind him, and we crawled our way towards the direction of the sound. The screaming had stopped when we reached the end of the vent. We peered through the vent openings to see what room we arrived at. It was the head mistress' office. Jimmy tore open the vent to reveal the interior of the room. There was no one inside. It was not very well maintained either. There were papers everywhere, and everything looked disorganized. The ceiling was crumbling, and there was what looked to be dried bits of blood on the wall. It looked like it had been stained with blood for years. I proceeded to examine the files on a desk in the center of the room. I went through all the cabinets while Jimmy stood watch. I finally managed to find a small box inside a cabinet. I opened the dusty lid of the old box, and proceeded through its contents. Inside, were many files of the orphans that used to live in this orphanage. It contained their names, a small portrait of them, and their bio data. Most of them were from the 1980s. This orphanage was pretty old. I saw Jimmy slip a piece of paper into his pocket. It was just something I noticed. I didn't really ask him why, because I didn't care. As I read more of the files, I realized that all of this kids died at a young age. The reports said that it was because of a disease from the plague that went through the village. These were the kids that were buried in the mass graveyard next door. There were pictures of kids and villagers being treated from the disease. The kids looked messed up. Some were missing hands, others had no eyes. Some kids looked like zombies because their bones showed in places where they had no skin. Many of them had lumps all over their small bodies, and others were missing hair, legs, or teeth. It was horrifying looking at the pictures. These were just orphans. I suddenly spotted one of the nurses helping out in the pictures. The nurse looked familiar...she looked like my aunt Maggie, no, it was my aunt Maggie. I
recognized the same facial appearance. It was definitely her. No wonder she had the disease. It probably spread to her when she was a nurse helping out at the time. The accounts of the disease said that it could kill a person before they realized that they had it. "" Why didn't Aunt Maggie tell me?"" I yelled out loud. Jimmy asked me what I was talking about. I told him about the files. "" She probably wanted you to not worry,"" he said. A sense of sadness formed inside me. I suddenly missed Aunt Maggie, and I felt more alone than I already was. As I stared at the pictures some more, a question arose in my head. Why were this kids missing body parts? The disease killed you from the inside out. It just messed with your organs. There was something suspicious going on. I started looking around some more, trying to see what I could find. I ended up finding nothing. I was just about to give up when I spotted something in the corner of the room. There was a handhold in the wall. I walked up to it, and felt the hold. There was something in it, almost like a button. I pushed on it. Nothing happened. "" Well, I said, ""looks like there's--, I didn't finished my sentence because the wall behind suddenly fell, revealing a hidden staircase. ""You got to be kidding me,"" I said, as I walked up to the once hidden staircase. Jimmy had a pained expression on his face, but at the same time a happy one. Before we went down the staircase, Jimmy made sure that we didn't wake anyone up. Then, we proceeded into the darkness. I had found a flashlight somewhere in the office. It still worked, so I used it to guide ourselves down the ominous staircase that spiraled down into who knows where. As we continued the walk down, the air stank of something rotting. The strong odor made me want to vomit. Weirdly, Jimmy was silent as we walked, and I couldn't tell what expression he had because of the darkness. Finally, the staircase came to an end. It lead into a tunnel that stretched into even more darkness. I kept the flashlight shown ahead as we stepped through the wet puddles of what looked like blood and water mixed together. The stench was even worse here. I couldn't hold it in, I vomited out next to me, spilling the digested liquid of my lunch. "" You ok there bud,?"" Jimmy asked. He grabbed the flashlight and guided me along. Why did he not feel sick? He wasn't bothered by it at all. The tunnel led into a room that was filled with coffins, bloody tables, bones, and bodies of skeletons. "" What in hell is this place?"" I said, as my voice echoed of the brick walls. There were writings written in a blood that read, HELP US, and ITS THEM, which were written in many areas. I told Jimmy to shine the flashlight at the tables. I caught a glimpse of his face. It was a sullen, depressed, look almost like he's seen this place before. My attention shifted to the tables. I looked in horror as I saw what were on the tables. They were lined with.... torture devices. Not only that, but there were needles, and other painful looking devices. There were bloody papers strewn across the floor and the tables. I picked one up. It had a child's face with an x marked over the picture. It was similar to the files of the orphans back in the office. I read the papers thoroughly. I realized what was going on in here. When the villagers were living in this area, there was a plague that went over that ended up killing many adults. It was the same disease that my aunt had which was the cause of the deaths. The children weren't affected, so they built this orphanage to keep them there. However, there was something horrible going on the orphanage that no one knew about. The children were secretly being abused sexually, and also experimented on. Some of them were little kids, others were older. Almost all of them were tortured, here in this chamber, to death. That explains why there were torture devices. Very little survived, and of the orphans that made it out, they were treated by the nurses that remained here. That also explains the photo of my aunt with these tortured children. The people who ran this abuse operation targeted the nurses and....killed them. The reason why they weren't caught, was because everyone assumed that the nurses died from the disease that was spread from the plague. Somehow my aunt remained hidden from her pursuers for all these years. I sat in a shocked silence, as the truth seeped into me. I cried in bitter resentment towards the people who had done these things to the innocent children, and no one couldn't do anything about it. I heard something drop behind me. The flashlight that was supposed to be in Jimmy's hand rolled over to a side of the wall of the room. The light illuminated a name that was written in blood. The name sent shockwaves down my spine. It was the name of our head mistress. Under the name, it said, IT WAS HER FAULT. I suddenly heard something call out to me from the darkness. The room became filled with many loud voices of children echoing out to me. There was no sign of Jimmy either. The voices whispered thank you all around me. It kept echoing until all was silent. Something inside me told me to get out of here. I had to put an end to this. My heart raced as I ran towards the staircase. I didn't know where Jimmy was, but I knew what I had to do....
24 HOURS LATER...............................
The children of the orphanage stood together and watched as the cops handcuffed our head mistress and took her way in the police car. It turns out that she had known all about Fallen Creek's secret. Her father was the head of the organization to abuse and experiment on these children for a private company. They started this orphanage to make sure no one was suspicious. The plague benefited their plan as well. I was still having trouble processing all this information. Maybe I was fated to help find the mystery behind this orphanage. I surveyed the construction workers who entered our orphanage. They were excavating the torture chamber for more skeletons, and evidence. There were also new plans being made to refurnish the interior and exterior of the new orphanage to actually benefit the children. The children will have a proper home, where they are free to play, live, and grow without any difficulties. We will also get new security, because the old ones were fired for not keeping proper watch on the orphanage. They just went to the security shed outside the orphanage to drink, and sleep. There will also be a separate room in the orphanage for the staff, and security to stay in. How did I know all of this? Well, I overhead the engineers talking about it. Anyway, I decided to go take a last look at my dorm room because we were going leave. The police are escorting all the children of the orphanage to a hospital wing just outside of town, while the orphanage was being constructed on. As I was walking past the pictures of the orphans on the wall, I noticed a familiar face in one of the pictures. There was a boy standing in the crowd of some orphans. As I peered closely, I realized that it was Jimmy. The date was from the 1900s. I stared in awe as I figured out that Jimmy was one of the orphans that had died. Another thought also came into my head. What if the ghosts of these children were helping me out? What if they wanted me to solve this mystery once and for all? Maybe that's why they were yelling and screaming because they wanted me to find them, to free them from their misery. I ran to my dorm room to find a piece of paper on Jimmy's bed. I slowly picked up the piece of paper that read: Thank You, You freed all of us, and for that we are grateful. The horrors that happened here are a reminder of our numbered lives. It is part of the pain we suffered. You will not be forgotten-Jimmy. That's why Jimmy knew all the secrets of this place, I thought, as I made my way to the police escorts outside. The children were being filed in to big police trucks. As I got in, I asked the other boys if they remembered Jimmy, but all of them denied me. They said that they never even heard of him before. The policeman started the truck, and followed the other trucks out past the gates of the orphanage. I stared at the letter written by Jimmy, and I took one last look at the gates of FALLEN CREEK ORPHANAGE. To my amaze, standing at the gate was Jimmy, waving goodbye to me as we drove away."
s_2130_348,"It takes a while. There was a point where I just wanted to die. I still do half the time. I drank myself towards oblivion for 2 years. I tried hard to make everything work. To be happy and the person people wanted me to be. People think that a kid with a disability just is overnight accepted. There's a large amount of me that hates everyone and everything because *MY Son* has autism. I did everything right. I ate all the proper foods, avoided everything I was supposed to, did everything right. But alas I have a kid with autism and my ex friend who drank and did drugs while pregnant with both her children has normal kids. Sometimes I hate God. Sometimes I fear I hate my son. Sometimes I hate my husband. And sometimes, I probably actually hate my son. A lot of the time I hate myself. From 2012 to 2014 I drank while my son was at school and after he'd gone to bed. All the while wishing I could just leave and live in a trailer on a reservation drinking myself to death like I'd been told my father had done. Even now, I constantly think about suicide. Every day, no matter how great or bad the day is. It often seems like the only way out of Autism. But then I remember that he needs me and I don't. To get to the point where I wasn't just faking happiness and functionality, it took a lot of therapy. It's going to be a while. He may need to talk to someone. He might never be able to deal. Some people take it harder. Typically men. Like they fucked up somehow. That's how I feel. Like I did something wrong and this is my fault. I logically know it isn't. I logically know that things don't work like that. But the brain is tricky. It allows you to know a logical thing but also know an illogical thing and still despite your brain yelling that it's not logical to think that you created this situation, to follow that illogical thought to the point of destroying yourself, knowing also that destroying yourself won't logically fix it and still working towards the idea that it will. Give him time. I seemed fine at first. I was the perfect autism mom for the first year or so. But eventually all that faking took a toll. If he's not taking it well at the start let him. It's best for everyone."
s_1738_198,"I've been on two meds: Bupropion/Wellbutrin and venlafaxine/effexor. The one that was more effective was effexor. Unfortunately, it causes weight gain for me. I've been trying my entire life to maintain a healthy weight, but I've been guilty of binge eating and emotional eating before. Wellbutrin is weight neutral but I don't think it works as well for me. When I wasn't on meds, I lacked energy and was generally more irritable and hypersensitive to my environment. I also had a much stronger sex drive without any meds but since I'm not a sexually active person (celibate) I guess it really doesn't matter, anyways."
s_1499_1116,"Calls to complain because... kind of a long one. [ I was diagnosed with a degenerative spinal condition a little less than a year ago. I'm 23, but my body basically behaves like I'm 85 - bad joints, snaps, slipped discs, weak spine/back, loss of sensation, total numbness, partial paralysis that comes and goes, etc. Really fun stuff. Both of my parents are total Ns, always have been. My father is also the biggest liar I've ever met in my life. However, their narcissism somehow bonded them together for 23 years or so, until their messy divorce three years ago. My dad got remarried very soon after, my mother didn't. She's a whole different ball game, but I digress. In the year before my NDad got remarried, he was actually really supportive - this was all before I got sick. If I was short for rent, he would lend me money and tell me not to worry about repaying (with, of course, the tone that he was all but saving my life and if he didn't lend me $150, I'd be a homeless crank addict or something). But still, that counted for something, and there would be brief periods of time where he'd sit and talk to me without being a total dick. Then he got engaged to my Stepmom, who I have come to realize is just about as narcissistic as he is. It had been eight months since I'd needed help (due to ongoing doctor's appointments to try and figure out what's wrong with me, by the way. I'm not just an irresponsible spender, we spent months going to specialists trying to diagnose me) and I'd asked for sixty bucks to float for groceries until my long-time boyfriend got his next check. My dad agreed, and his wife... denied it. She said, directly in front of me, that parents shouldn't support their children in any way after they turn 18. ( She says this while supporting her two daughters, of course.) And besides, they have to save up for the wedding, and every dollar counts. Okay, fine. Ramen it was. I started realizing that my Stepmom is both an enabler and a narcissist, a classic combo I was coming to realize would cause problems for them and for my dad and I, since it's that sort of behavior that split my parents up. She also is really weird about communication. Like, she answers my dad's phone and his texts, even when I address them to him (i.e. Hey Dad, just wondering what you guys are up to next weekend, we've got a free day and would like to see you and the girls. I get back: Hey girly! We're free Saturday! You should come out and BBQ with us!) Which, okay, fine. But I'm texting my dad to talk to my dad. And it's ALWAYS her responding unless I call him during the day while he's at work, and then he rarely answers. They get married, things seem fine. For a few months, it even seems like they care. Then I get my diagnosis. That day, she comes to pick me up because I didn't want to be home alone (it's a far drive, I was fairly surprised she did it) and I spend the day there until my boyfriend gets off work late and comes to get me. I'm in shock, sure, but I cry once or twice. But she's SOBBING. This woman who I've known for like a year and a half and who has been a little on the weird side is acting like this is her personal tragedy. A few weeks later I go back, we're watching some bridal show. My dad just got home from work and is sitting next to me, and I make an offhand comment about getting married before I end up in a wheelchair, which is highly likely for people with my condition. They EXPLODE. At first I thought the dog shit in her shoes, because she yelped so loudly. They chastised me for ""condemning myself"" and told me as long as I thought positive, everything ""would be just fine, like now"". I understand she's fairly religious and spreads her mantra of positivity and prayer, but prayer isn't going to take my spinal issues away, and I'm just being realistic in saying I want to marry my guy while I can still dance with him. She starts throwing a fit about scaring her and scaring the girls, she's clutching at her chest, my dad chastises me about talking ""like that"". I've never been a sunshine and rainbows person to begin with, my dad knows I sort of tell it like it is or don't say anything at all. But all of the sudden, my illness and my life choice is a personal slight on them again. At this point, we're LC. My dad doesn't answer his phone, and she stops answering it for him. She stops answering half the time too, or she's really clipped and distant. Okay, fine. At one point, I ask for a loan - just $100 to keep my bills from going to collections and screwing up my credit. I tell him I've got a babysitting job coming up and I'll give him all $120 back in two weeks, I just need to cover this $100 ER copay. He sighs, and says he can't. They're having money troubles. It's been really hard. He's not making as much as he used to. This is all following the last time I saw him, about a month before this, in which he told me he got a promotion. That was probably a lie, the money troubles were also definitely a lie, because when I went out two weeks later, they had a brand new car in the driveway. He claims they paid it with my stepmoms tax refund, but she's not working, and even on unemployment, she wouldn't be getting THAT much in taxes back. He outright bought a car. Like, a $23,000 car. They don't pay rent, they live with her mother. But he couldn't float me $100 for two weeks. Oh, and two weeks later, they took a big vacation to Las Vegas for their anniversary. Posted pictures on Facebook. But, you know, they're broke! Things were just starting to be okay again (still LC, but we'd gone over there for Independence Day and only had one tiff) when I get a phone call from my dad, middle of a Tuesday. It's so out of the ordinary that I seriously think I'm dreaming and that my meds have finally dissolved my brain. Nope, I answer it and it's my dad, sounding tired. I ask him what's up, and he goes into this spiel about the hospital calling him about me. I am behind on payments (mostly because I couldn't work at the time, with three doctor's appointments a week and PT on top of that, and those copays alone ate up whatever was left from my boyfriend's income supporting the both of us). Because he's the ""responsible party"" on my insurance, they're nagging him. I ask how many times they've called. He says three times in the last two weeks. Oh, bother! I tell him I'll take care of it, I'll call them and tell them not to call him. His response? "" You better, or I'm going to get on your ass about this. These phone calls are really stressing me out at work."" Oh, I'm sorry. Absolutely effing lost it. I told him, ""Well, maybe collectors wouldn't be on both of our asses if I had a family member somewhere who could float me $100, but, you know, I guess they're all too busy buying new cars and taking expensive vacations to do something like that."" I know he makes a lot of money. And he doesn't have to spend much. I started crying, which I rarely do, and I told him if he really wanted to get the calls to stop, he could have waited three days to buy his new effing car and he'd have made twenty bucks, to boot. I told him I was pissed that he lied to me, but even more pissed that he went from trying to help out despite being absent, to just being absent and being a dick about it. I stayed on the line, heavy breathing, and he just continued on with the conversation like nothing had happened. He said next time they called, he'd tell them to stop calling him. He asked how i was doing. I laid it on thick - I'm seeing two Neurosurgeons who probably won't operate on me because the surgery is super dangerous, I have eleven doctor's appointments in the next month and a half, I can't get upstairs without assistance, and oh, I have no support system because apparently my illness makes my family ""uncomfortable"" (my mom's words, not his, but still. Again, nothing. We said goodby and hung up. Oddest phone call of my life. I stared at the phone and was actually amazed. He wasted twenty whole minutes of his precious time, talking to me. I mean, it wasn't pleasant by any means, but it's twenty minutes. Someone call a doctor. It really just blows my mind that a father can watch his daughter get sick, and distance himself and lie to her and become LESS helpful than before. The funny thing is, I'd love to blame it on my stepmom, but he's always been this way, and when I first got sick she was actually surprisingly, one of my best sources of emotional support. She'd pick me up from an hour and a half away and take me out to window shop or eat, or just hang out at the house with me. That stopped eventually, but still. My form of the condition is the least predictable. I could never have worsening of symptoms again, or I could die in my sleep from paralysis of my upper body, which would just stop my lungs from working. I could be paralyzed in three hours or slowly get better. But I've gotten slowly worse over the last ten months, and for the most part, if symptoms increase, they'll keep increasing. I had so many dreams for myself that I mourn the loss of. If this gets really bad, I won't be able to have kids, I won't be able to dress myself or read a book. Like, I need support. That is something I have come to accept, since I'm normally someone who HATES asking for help. I know sometimes I have to, but I despise it. But I need my dad right now. Okay, long post over. What the hell do I do? Is there a way to tell my dad to snap the hell out of it, that I don't care about the money, I just hate being lied to and pushed away when I most need someone? My dad and I used to be a lot closer, before he moved out to be with my stepmom. We got tattoos on my 19th birthday to piss off my mom, I was very much a daddy's girl growing up. He's changed. Even my chart-topping Nmom asks how I'm doing, 5% of the time that we talk. She and I had a very strained relationship when I was younger because I frequently called her out on her behavior, but I never saw it in my dad until I was maybe 19, 20, and moving out of the house for the first time. How do you deal with that? I haven't always seen him like this. It's like losing him, but he's just 80 miles away. This is when I most need him to not be a jackass, to just call me and check in and, I don't know, treat me a fifth as well as he now treats his (younger) stepdaughters. Just... ugh."
s_2625_622,"I have issues with depression and anxiety and I definitely feel a huge improvement. Maybe it's because I'm low carb, but it could also be that I'm just feeling good by doing something good for my body. I also get a nice mood boost when I see that I have lost weight. My depression usually makes me say ""I can't"" to myself, so sticking to keto helps me fight that feeling. As for my anxiety, I could barely sit still before keto. Now I feel so much more calm and relaxed, and I barely ever have mood swings."
s_1949_833,"I'm not sure if getting older makes it easier to cry or if maybe as we get older it becomes easier to accept that our emotions are a part of our life. I really believe that if we had that social stigma about crying implanted into our view of what we should or should not be, we repress some of ourselves to keep it hidden. On top of us being able to accept ourselves, being in a relationship with someone that is supportive also breaks down some of the walls we may have put up, I'm thinking of that old and false thing, boys don't cry. I can't really say how often I personally cry, but I've definitely noticed that getting older has led me to being more accepting of and more willing to express my emotions."
s_1499_253,"Haha, so, the funny thing is, mine is that and also backwards but I've been wanting to vent so here goes. I was a very hyperactive child. Not the run around in circles and fight people kind, the cantstopfidgetingohmygod kind. My mom worked in education and decided to have me observed by the school. They tell her it's because I have ADHD. So she takes me to therapy but tries to weasel her way into every appt. The therapist realizes this and starts asking me ""you're big enough to have this appointment alone, right?"" And I would always nod and my mom would always do and say awful things to try to get me to fess up as to what I had told the doc. I think she was taking me for appearances, and to tell the therapist that I was just acting up for her, as she did and does often. She kind of realized that taking me might backfire because the therapist wasn't an idiot. Guess who magically got better and didn't have to go to therapy anymore? And then when I was still hyped out of my mind and couldn't write a single sentence without wanting to die, she would say I was just being lazy/whiny and being bad. She would say that I did it at home too, but only when I had to actually focus and do things but that she was sure I was faking it. The other teachers at my school, where she worked, believed her. Son of a bitch. Later, when I was 11 and already showing signs of depression, she would scream at me for crying or for not being cheerful about some bullshit that I hated or for not immediately praising her for things. When I really started to retreat into my room more, she would yell that I deserved to be there anyway and I could stay there until I grew up and got a better attitude. I was self harming by 13 and miserable and she didn't give a shit. I was in an awful place by the time I was 13, but I kept up appearances alll the way until Junior year. I was in clubs, on teams, I was doing just okay in classes. Then I crashed. I failed all of my classes and they made me go to a special school where I could make it up. I knocked two years of classes out in six months. Without a full class of people, I could focus! I could go outside and do my work and finish a weeks worth in an hour and a half! I went back to regular school with enough credits that I could have already graduated, but I wanted to go to prom and stuff so I went back. My mom had zero interaction with this school. But the weird thing is she would tell me how proud she was of me for working hard to make it up. She almost never put me down for being in that school. The ONE thing she should have gotten mad about. W
So here's where it gets funny - she used to kick me out allllll the time. For various infractions. I think I was 14 the first time this happened. And then she'd call and beg me to come home and say she was sorry, and I was a fucking idiot doormat so I'd walk home with my tail between my legs and she'd cry and hug me and then the next day she'd be yelling again. ( Guess who's bipolar? But that's actually only a little relevant.) She would tell everyone at school that she didn't know what was going on with me, that I'd just disappear sometimes and not answer the phone and wouldn't tell her where I was going. School counselor called me in. By this time my mom didn't work for the district anymore and had switched careers. This counselor, who had already thought I was lazy and awful for having to go to the other school, mostly ignored me when I told her my mom was actually kicking me out and had hit me several times in the past and committed abuse by taking away ""privileges"", some as easy as TV and some like ""laundry and shower"". Didn't care. Thought I was acting up. Enter - me, 19. I am flunking my second semester of college after barely scraping by in the first. I hate college. I feel like an idiot and I'm not as put together as these other people. I flunk out and start working. I meet my FH just before I turned 21 and moved into his place 2 weeks later. His roommates all bail. In the interim, we have to find a place to stay. Guess who has the only open room in town? At least FH got to experience how she treated me. She only did it when she thought he wasn't there, but he's quiet. He saw and heard everything. We move out again. At that point, I'm 23 and completely unsure if I was actually ill or if she'd twisted it all up. It takes me two years to get help because A: I am scared and B: it takes me that long to actually call the abuse what it was. Turns out I'm not only ADHD and have full on depression, but I also have a panic disorder and show many signs of PTSD! I don't obviously tell her any of these. In the last two years, she has started pretending we have a great relationship now and she's always talking about how I'm ""sooo much better after getting help"" and that I was a terrible and difficult child to raise because of my ADHD and mood issues. The fuck. You claimed that I both did and did not have these things. Made them worse. Kept me from getting treatment and turned my teachers against me. And now you're saying I was difficult because of the illnesses that you couldn't make up your mind about?"
s_3019_239,Yeah of course I can basically take a horse hardy har. However my sex drive went crazy and I was not so modest amymore
s_776_728,The stories point really got me. I feel sad now... Fuck you.
s_1072_1187,"Started opening up. I finished school seven and a half years ago. Since then, I've been studying one thing after the other - almost all unsuccessfully - on my parents' dime, while living in a flat they paid for. Every semester, it would be the same pattern: I'd stop attending class, lie to my parents and my live-in girlfriend about it, and then have a fight at the end of the semester when my results came. Once, I even forged exam results, which hurt my family deeply. I've been to see therapists, but it never took. At the start of this year, both my parents and my girlfriend told me this was my last chance. I finally admitted today that I'd failed everything and that I need help. I packed a bag of clothes and my computer and went to stay with my parents. Everything sucks and I have no future, but everyone loves me and is willing to help. I wish I could have avoided these mistakes in the first place. My girlfriend is extremely dependent on me for getting to and from work and for buying stuff and keeping the house clean, and now I'm not there to help her. And my parents have sunk so much money into giving me third and fourth and fifth chances, so much so that they've had to dig into their retirement fund - they're in their mid-50s and have sunk a lot of money into two business ventures, one of which tanked and the other one is only going to be profitable enough for my dad to get a good salary in a few years' time. But all in all I feel good. I don't feel suicidal any more, and I didn't get kicked out onto the street like I was expecting. Thanks for reading."
s_2401_0,"More than depression? Hi I'm new to reddit. I'm 19, soon to be 20. I was first diagnosed with childhood depression when i was 15. Ever since then i have been on and off of medications and treatment. I'm currently seeing a psychiatrist and getting treatment. But he is still treating me with depression and anxiety disorder. Its been about 8 months since I'm on many prescriptions. But i don't think its helping me. I'm still depressed. I constantly get suicidal ideation. My Mental state isnt improving. I feel like its getting worse. I did some research on my symptoms. I know self diagnosis or even looking these up arent good for my treatment, or so i have been told. But the first time i was diagnosed i insisted my parents to take me to a psychiatrist as my health was getting worse(physical and mental). Also Mental health is a taboo in my country. And my parents don't even believe in this. My sibling also has clinical depression and anxiety and he also got treatment (after me. He is older). So, i think i have more than just depression and anxiety. Maybe adhd or bpd. I often think i have autism. I dont feel whole. I always feel like there is a void in my life that i can't fill. I'm at the peak of my worst mental health. I feel numb. Ever since i was diagnosed, all these years seem like a complete blur to me. I cant concentrate in any think for more than a minute. It is affecting my life very very badly. As i said I'm new to this platform. So excuse my mistakes if i made any. I dont wanna disrespect anyone. I just don't wanna feel this way. I wanna feel ""normal"". Or at least know what is ""wrong"" with me."
s_731_903,"He refuses to compromise, at all. He simply will not do it. It's so aggrevating I want to tear my nails out sometimes. I can't express how awful it is to bend over on someones lap and tell them ""ive been naughty, spank me"" and have them nonchalantly push you off them and go back to watching Youtube. I am very focused on sex. That is why I came to r/sex. I feel like my sexual health isn't being exercised, and I wanted to know if what I was feeling was ok or right. What I am finding is my sinking feeling of I need to break up is something that a lot of people would agree with. I'm not being selfish, he is by not even trying. I'm willing to do pretty much anything for him and I think I posted that I've asked what he wants. He wont tell me what he wants. He just...it's like he has almost no libido. Also, you're right, relationships are more than just sex. But when your being sexually stifled and have 1 libido that is GO at 96% of the time/day or night...and one who is about 5% eh, ok, we can fuck, once a day/every few days/week...I'm sorry, but I can't do it... I've tried like hell for two years..."
s_1738_394,"This isn't a matter of handouts or being entitled. I really am a dysfunctional person. It's not simply a matter of ""I don't want to work"". I constantly lose things, can't manage time, can't focus because I'm in a bad mood much of the time, everything is harder to do because I lack the energy. And I am autistic (pretty sure). I struggle very badly with socializing. I can't look people in the eyes without getting anxious and laughing nervously. I can't so a lot of shit. My life skills are weak. My parents often have to help me out to do basic things. I don't know why you are misunderstanding me?"
s_1625_790,"Yes, we tried so much over the last 30 years. I'm glad to hear you're getting out of bed without tears. I do still cry a bit most nights, but right now I am also grieving two significant losses (both over a year old, so not as strongly as before). The overwhelming despondency of depression is definitely less. I honestly don't remember a time this calm."
s_694_827,Wow it knows how sad I am
s_1609_125,"I'm so exhausted. Dammit high school sucks. I know that seems like no big deal to a lot of people, but I just feel so damn run down. No matter what I do I can't seem to get anything done. I don't get enough sleep, I don't get all my work done and I'm just so damn done with dealing with all this. It's only my sophomore year and I just want to sink into the floor. There are things I love like choir and dance team and musical but when it comes to actual classes I just want to lay in bed and cry. No kidding, all I want to do is sleep but I can't. All I can do is cry about it. I have two and a half years left and I feel so miserable. Why the hell is this so hard? I constantly feel like I'm letting someone down and my life is so full of stress I could explode. I cry all the time because I'm just so tired. Everyday I have commitments. Also, I live 45 minutes away from my school if there's no traffic, so I spend 1 1/2 hours on the road a day at the very least. I just want to relax. I want to catch my breath, sleep, get my work done, and start again. I just want to hit pause. It's 8 pm right now and I can barely keep my eyes open because I'm so tired. And I keep getting sick because I never get any actual sleep and then I end up getting even more behind. And whenever I actually get a few hours off, I automatically try to relax because I have so much anxiety but then I find myself falling behind again. I have so many anxiety attacks because I just can't live the way I want to. There are things I want to do but my classes are holding me back. I know what I want to do with my life and barely any of my classes matter at all in the field or in my life. Like, what the hell am I doing this for? And I *have* to get good grades or else I won't be able to go to college but oh my gosh I just don't care anymore. I mean, I care about getting an education but damn why does this f***ing number have to determine so much of what I do in my life. Why can't I be happy right now? I know soon enough I'll be out of high school and maybe I'll be able to breathe and sleep and get over my anxiety but damn why can't my life be like that now. I just sit in my room and cry all the time because I just can't handle it. I'm crying right now because it's just so hard. I know that it's going to get better but why does it have to be so hard just so that I can get a diploma? I'm aware that this is some pretty petty rambling, but I just needed to get it off my chest."
s_1077_1026,"Just finished the show... The last episode really made me cry, and i rarelly cry as a person. It was a wonderful journey from the first episode to the last. I dont know if i will rewatch it (because im just too busy with stuff), but i will definitely remember it for a looooong time. It makes me really think about things like whether your environment and friends helps your good side to be nurtured to become a good person and if the oppsite also happens, and all the other philosophy stuff... Its really a masterpiece. Ted Danson was the absolute most wonderful person, i think this was his magnum opus of his acting career. The Janet actor was also fantastic, so increadibly funny. She was really amazing on taking all those different Janets. I only regret bing-watching this in a single week, should've given it more time to sink in, the downside of on-demand streaming."
s_2679_95,"I lost my job today... I feel like a failure in all areas of my life. Just a warning, this may seem to jump all over the place. I apologize in advance. I had a breakdown in January 2011 and ended up being in the hospital 3 times that year. 2012 got a little better as I was finally able to figure out a medication combo that worked for me. I still wasn't feeling like I could work, but finally in September an opportunity arose that I couldn't pass up. Well, that opportunity has now ended. The business was really slow so they had to let a few people go. Here it is, a new year, and 4 days from the two-year anniversary of my breakdown. I really don't want it to happen again, but I'm not so sure I can be strong. I guess everything happens for a reason because since I've been working, I've been really bad about helping my son with his homework and turning it in on time. Now that I don't work, I will have more time to devote to that. I feel like a terrible mother because in spite of knowing that my son is at risk for retention of first grade, I haven't been able to get my act together and get on top of his homework. It's just such a battle getting him to do it and I just don't have the energy to argue with him. My ex-husband also dropped on me today that he wants to claim our younger son on taxes this year. He owes me thousands of dollars, doesn't follow our divorce agreement of 50/50, and doesn't pay any child support. He thinks just because he has the younger one 3 days a week and both every other weekend, and buys them clothes that he deserves one for taxes. The best part: He isn't even LEGAL! I checked the law, and it is in my favor, but this causes a rift between us and the last thing I need is to be fighting with him about stupid shit. Don't ask me how he can file taxes because I have no clue. But, he does it. That's my rant/story. Thank you for reading."
s_156_345,"I cant do this anymore... This will be a long post but I need to talk! Im 17 and got Covid the second week in January 2021. It was the worst experience of my life and wouldn't wish it upon anyone. I had a collapsed lung and combined with my already severe asthma made me want to die. During this time I also fell into a deep depression and my anxiety soared. Its now been 7 months and even though my lung has recovered as much as it can my mind has been crushed into more pieces and I'm still experiencing most of my Covid symptoms. Ever since Covid I have had 0 motivation to do anything and get exhausted by the littlest of work. My body is in constant pain, constant head aches, extreme heat flashes, on and off fevers, nausea, etc.. Worst of all my depression and anxiety has gotten so much worse which has led me to cutting and suicidal thoughts. Nothing is helping me and the medications that worked before Covid have stopped working. I feel as if Covid has completely broken something in me, something that can not be repaired....all I wanna do is give up. Im tired of living this way and feel like life isn't worth living anymore. My anxiety has paralyzed me and everything I use to love to do, i hate. Anytime I leave my house I have a mental breakdown and cant function. The only time I feel safe and ok is with my mom but when Im not with her I cry and my mind literally snaps! When school starts how will I get through it??? What about college??? I cant bring my mom to all those places! But the only time I feel ok is with her! I don't know how I'm gonna get through any of it! I know things will get better but I don't think I can wait any longer. I feel like my journey is gonna soon come to an end and I wont be able to hold out any longer. The only reason I haven't ended yet is because of my mom but what will happen when she isn't next to me, comforting, hugging and loving me. What will happen when I am alone and the only thing keeping me alive is no longer with me. Covid has essentially ruined me. Reverting my brain back to its pre-therapy and medication state. I just cant live like this...I'm just so broken...."
s_1265_364,I'm on 10 mg of Lexapro and anxiety is gone. Only downside for me is lowered sex drive. What type of therapy did they try on you?
s_2227_47,"Well, a delusion is just something that I've convinced myself of. My most recent guilt delusion would be today - feeling like I've been a burden to my friend. Actually, that would probably be the one that's the most persistent as well."
s_2237_85,Well shit. I was in a great mood. Now I just feel like weeping.
s_1725_364,"I have a lot of inner demons, which translates into *literally* every story I've written to-date having some sort of truth about me in it. Whether it's an expetience, fear, etc. Writing about it really helps me cope. For example, my mom was recently in the hospital with kidney failure - I wrote [this](<URL>). Sometimes it isn't central to the plot like that. It's always there, though. Also, to be perfectly honest, I've always wanted to be a great writer. It's just taken me 25 years to become comfortable with trying. So that constantly keeps me motivated to keep publishing stories and writing about new topics. Finally, I *love* horror. I grew up on it. Think what you will, but my mom introduced me to horror movies when I was still a single-digit age. It didn't scar me. Well, I do have some *irrational fears* from some things (ha, get it /u/IrrationalFearsHost?! I said your podcast name), but nothing that's negatively impacted my life. Instead, I fell in love. I love being scared or disturbed. I love not being able to sleep at night. I want to do for other people what all of those great horror directors amd writers did for me. Full disclosure: I didn't read the full post."
s_486_0,A 4 month manic? Mine hardly last three weeks let alone four months. I understand with the whole fatigue thing. Lately I either dont sleep at all or I sleep 17 hours (done that twice now since this episode started).
s_1271_568,"I experience a lot of guilt as well primarily about breakdowns due to OCD and not living my life to the full and feeling not good enough. I recovered from OCD once and then had a breakdown because I brought on a spike. I felt endless guilt over that plus a fear of repeating the mistake. I read something that ended with you can choose to love and forgive yourself. So I wrote down everything about the episode and at the end wrote I choose to love and forgive myself for that. It helped a lot. Maybe you could do something similar with the episodes that haunt you? Also meditation gives me a lot of relief from ocd, I always promote it for that reason, here's a[ link](<URL>) to some guided meditations, there's one of practising self compassion, which may be good for you."
s_715_109,"Comment your assumptions about me. Im bored, and sadly dont really have any good new post ideas today or energy to write something, so this will do. You can comment as many assumptions as you want. No promises I will confirm or deny your assumptions... Lets begin."
s_2000_29,I cry everytime I see this.
s_1404_88,"I can't forgive myself because I messed up a few months ago I had a very good friend named Alex. He is a ftm trans. I support the LGBTQ and I am not transphobic. But one day I took the wrong medicine and I started swearing at him and telling him that he is a disgusting trans. I didn't mean any of it, I just completely lost my sanity. Ever since he has still blocked me. I tried to explain and apologize but I can't reach him. He was one of my best friends. I messed up and now I hate myself. Alex if you read this, I'm sorry with all of my heart"
s_2491_33,DM me and I will talk with you about what has helped!! Maybe even give ya a call. Some instances are just the small things and being proud of that. Fuck yeah I brushed my teeth today. Fuck yeah I didnt think about killing myself today. Think about what made you even the slightest bit happy before you were depressed. Bird watching? It doesnt matter just try to bring yourself contentment.
s_2776_527,"I had a dream about a mouse. It was a really messed up dream. Let me give you some backstory - just a little. There were two mice, siblings, and their mother. I had been looking after these mice all day, but they kept on running away. My day had consisted of myself looking for these two tiny mice. Just the siblings. Sometimes I'd find them, and they'd get away again. I had to look after them, that was really important. When they were lost I had to find them. I don't know what happened to the one. But I was with people, and they asked me if I was hungry. So they went and got fish 'n' chips while I sat on a wall, looking on the floor for two mice. I hadn't seen them for a long time - and I was very worried. Eventually the others returned and they passed me a folded up paper bag. I opened it up and out popped this nose shape. A tiny mouse shaped nose. But it had been battered and deep fried - like a fish. I know that sounds fucking stupid. But as this tiny orange nose-shape poked out it hit me that it was the mouse. And then it hit me again that someone had fucking deep fried it. Had probably boiled it alive and battered it. And then someone had given it to me. Knowing full well I was meant to look after them. I forgot about it in the morning. In midday I was reminded, I nearly broke down into tears. I don't think I've just felt so...helpless, like I've ever lost something so totally, and failed so miserably. Just opening that bag and seeing that nose, and being hit by so many realisations. It really fucked me up. I still get sad about that mouse, sometimes."
s_2800_31,"Sexual attraction after SA Im a 17 year old girl and Ive recently been diagnosed with ptsd, mainly due to sexual assault. When Im with friends they seem very interest in sex etc. and talk about it a lot and share their own experiences. But I feel extremely disgusted by even the thought of having sex or actually anything sexual They also constantly ask if Ive had sex and my experiences with boys. Is it normal to feel disgusted? I feel so abnormal Thank you"
s_1493_0,"Thank you so much for your kindness. But honestly, I don't think he is completely to blame. I just think we were both in the worst state at the worst time to be together, and that is why we clashed. If things can't be sorted out, then I will start thinking about separating, for the sake of both of us. But right now, I want to be able to face him and talk. I just don't have the courage or the confidence to, and it makes me hate myself"
s_2130_56,"Why does this say modmsg
2. Idk I just want to kill myself. A lot of my problems are fixed but I'm still lonely and I've been told I've a disorder that makes me not care about anyone else. Which probably is part of why I've basically no friends"
s_993_622,I just don't have the energy. I would somehow manage office. But after coming home I turn into a potato. I don't know if it's mild depression or plain laziness.
s_452_480,"Leaving one choir for another in the same area? I've been with my non-audition choir for 2 years and I want to join a choir that is more exclusive and a little more hardcore. Plus my choir is getting boring, we perform the same songs at the same events every year. I want to join one that's harder to get into, but if I audition for a choir they will ask who I sing with, would they judge me if I mention I want to leave my current choir because it isn't exclusive enough? I feel kind of guilty about this."
s_1460_103,You're weirdly reading guilt in a place where there is no guilt. I feel no guilt for being in the position I am in. I do know that I have had a good upbringing that has helped me a lot but I have put in a ton of work to be in the position I am in. The reason why I feel like the poor should have access to more is to ensure that their kids have access to everything they would need to bring themselves into a similar situation. You seem to have this idea that if we can not provide them with a similar experience to what people would pay for that we shouldn't even try to give them anything. I see that as just giving up. We have data and studies that the income/wealth gap is widening each year. The system (capitalism) is designed to widen the wealth gap. Capitalism with or without a govt overlooking it will eventually end up in a situation like we see today where 1% of the population owns a majority of the wealth. The middle class is unsustainable within capitalism. The most we can do is to subsidize the lower class to give them a better chance of sustaining a middle class.
s_2139_315,"Just diagnosed +Mood Hi everyone. I am 20 years old and just got the test results today saying that I have pcos with 20 or more cysts in my ovaries. I also had high testosterone and dhea levels. I also have hirsutism, weight gain, acne on head, random cramps and low mood. I also have Bipolar 2 disorder and now having this which can also be linked to depressive moods is quite a bummer. I am happy that I finally know the truth but also sad that I have it. I dont really know where to go from here but ill figure it out. If you guys hve any advice for staying healthy and keeping levels down that would be greatly appreciated!"
s_976_789,"I recently checked out OMGyes.com after it was posted about in r/chickflixxx. It's a pay site, but has loads of advice and demonstrations from real women about how best to pleasure yourself or for your partner to pleasure you. Then I went and tried out what I learned and had my first orgasm from masturbation without a vibe. I really had to concentrate but it worked in the end."
s_516_693,"Yeah, it's what I do too. I've been running around my survival world with a stack of BLT's for weeks now and I still have plenty. I used to eat quite frequently but now I know I don't really need to."
s_448_505,"Neither like I already suffer from sleeping problems, no way will I make it worse"
s_2584_14,closer to suicide i've been in this headspace for so fucking long. i've had it happen so many times. i've never attempted. the inevitable seems closer. i feel like a fucking shitty human with a brain that can't stop thinking about suicide. I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT SUICIDE! my head hurts. my body hurts. i want to not feel like complete shit.
s_1034_161,I don't get enough sleep
s_839_943,"Movies and movie making. I guess it partly has to do with the escapism aspect of watching a movie. For two hours I can disappear into another world. I love filmmaking because I love making stories and ideas a reality. I love telling stories visually. I'm good at it, and I've never really been good at anything really. When I make a film, I'm *creating art*. Which is so cool to me. I'm making something. I'm making an idea I had a reality. I'm bringing this idea to life and making it a physical thing."
s_705_13,"Anti-Aging How to (The real thing) and Tips for the youngest among us among other things. Update I recieved the go ahead and approval for the post and the next one. I will post about regaining sensitivity and resetting triggers to something more innocent for those in the preteen and Teen age group. This one will be labeled NSFW Thread three will be a Misc. thread that covers things such as haircuts, clothing, eyelashes, etc. Hi there, You can call me Jimmy (Not my real name but a nickname after Jimmy Neutron because I was so smart as a kid and everyone called me that). I am 11 years old. I was diagnosed with Aspergers at 11 years old which is coincidence. Like many of you I really am mentally and emotionally that young. And I do experience body dysphoria and if I were to be given the opportunity to jump back into my 11 year old body permanently I would jump at it. However I am not suicidal about it as I am more the type to do something about it for myself and others And I value my own life to much to ever consider it. And I don't mean advocacy as that is better left to those who dedicate everything to it. I mean real Actionable things you can do right now to keep yourself looking younger and closer to your real age. And I don't mean makeup. ( Barring some blush on the cheeks for the older among us.) I wont lie some of this costs money, some of it a lot of money. Some of it is free and some of it can be risky. But for the youngest in body among us it could be the only way of keeping their dysphoria in check semi permanently. I will put warning next to anything potentially dangerous and the money needed if applicable and most of it will only apply to the US. It will range from rejuvenating your body, some of these will have permanent consequences so you must be absolutely sure you could not live without it. I wont lie without knowing about this topic in detail I had fantasized and looked into halting puberty at that age with no feasible options and no money if I had known about what I am going to tell you about I would have jumped consequences or not. I will also put sources for those that have them and I will update this list as new information appears or community members have things to add that would compliment things. So please comment if you have anything to add. Now we start with the section that while dicey in places will greatly benefit the physically youngest among us. I will not lie your on a time limit and a very restrictive one as every pubertal change is not something easily reversed. It is also understandable that many of you will simply not have the capital available. Seemingly at least. But there are things you can do and they will serve you well and many will be permanent. However, you must first be absolutely sure that you are age dysphoric and that it will kill you inside to not look at or close to your true age. As until regenerative medicine progresses further these changes will be permanent and irreversible. Talk to a Psychologist first and keep this in your back pocket but make sure as you are a child. In many cases both physically and mentally. It will be significantly easier for you if you have your parents and psych on your side. As you won't have to go to cloak and dagger route and agonize on how to pay for things. Broach the idea slowly and carefully leverage your autism diagnosis if you have it. Make it abundantly clear that you will be destroyed if you physically grow up but don't get too whiny about it make your case that you already feel dysphoric in your body as it gets older and does not match your mental age. Bargain if you need to, make it clear that you're still going to study and put your best foot forward to get a job. If at any point unless your autism is that severe you make it known that you want to be taken care of like a child beyond love and affection your attempt will sour as many parents don't want that kind of burden. Remember it is more important that you keep your body looking how it should look. This way you can go through with the steps I'm going to list below but with parental approval and backing and hopefully a physician's supervision. You could even use the surprisingly low price as a selling point. If at the point you put your feelers forward you can see it would never be approved of or they would do horrible things to you, you will have to go to cloak and dagger route this is easier than it seems. The hardest part of the whole thing is getting a hold of the money. You can make this money by hopefully doing household chores and saving up as the first step will not take a lot of money. Otherwise you can perform a side hustle or ask around your neighborhood if anyone needs any chores done. You Will only need around $30 dollars on a visa gift card for this one and a safe place to send it to. Or better yet as part of your chores start bringing in the mail. This will give you chance to hide what you bought and use it later. When you've decided you've reached old enough what is the first thing on your to do list? Closing Bone Growth Plates. Girls have the short stick on this one is their growth finishes earlier than boys. With most reaching adult height at around 15. So the earlier the better for this one. Boys have a bit more leeway but the sooner it is done the younger you will look. There are two moderately safe ways to close the growth plates. High doses of estrogen or testosterone. An easily attainable way to do this is by taking a large and measured dose of birth control. Even the boys though you may have to worry about growing breasts if you continue doing so. If you have the option to though it might be more expensive it will be much better in the long term take the testosterone option instead. A very high initial dose will close the growth plates. Certain SARMS will also do so. But if you are low on time and money you need to take what you can get. [ <URL>](<URL>) You can get all of this from alldaychemist 2. Puberty Blockers and Anti Androgens: If you've gotten to this point hopefully you have your parents support as then you will be able to pursue the most ideal option which is an implant called ## [SUPPRELIN LA](<URL>) It will completely suppress puberty for at least one year. Without more permanent and damaging ways of preventing puberty this is the most sustainable and long term solution. With luck you can pretend to be gender dysphoric and just say you need time, that way the doctors will not only go out of their way to prescribe it for you but insurance just may cover it. Otherwise if you are very understanding doctors you may be able to get it anyways. Avoid Lupron though as the long-term side effects are coming out as very bad. If you are unable to get a hold of the other puberty blockers you may have to go the anti-androgen route. There is a tab dedicated to it on all day chemist. You can find Sarms on Science. Bio but expect to spend at least 70$. There is a possibility the implants can last for more than one year which would be even better. [ <URL>](<URL>) If you are able to do both of these things, you should basically be set. If you are already older than your real age at least you can prevent any more damage. For the older ones among us. Now we start with the first thing that will actually rejuvenate your skin and make you look physically younger. This will be expensive up front but the cost will lessen after the initial investment as you will only need to purchase certain items occasionally. Skin Care Shopping List and Rationale: 1:) Tretinoin : This is the most important part of the regimen, if you purchase nothing else or can afford nothing else this is what you should buy. It is one of the most scientifically studied skincare ingredients with decades of research outside of cosmetic companies. It is not a magic cure but over the course of several months of consistent application it will reduce and eliminate skin blemishes and wrinkles and help prevent the formation of new ones. Put a pea-sized dab on your face before you go to bed. Source Alldaychemist around 8$ per tube no prescription needed. Since starting to apply it my nascent frown lines have halfed. 2:) Skin Medica TNS recovery complex: This is the second most important part of the regimen. It is also the most expensive. It is a solution of over 300 growth factors and cytokines taken from human fibroblasts and is proven when applied over the course of around six weeks to double skin thickness and further reduce and eliminate wrinkles. Since starting to apply this my cheeks have gotten a little bigger and my eyelids have begun to look Dewey again. It is applied twice a day once at night and once in the morning and the single bottle will usually last 2 to 3 months. You may feel a slight burning sensation applying it after tretinoin. You should wait 30 minutes after applying tretinoin to apply this. These two are the only to you needed night. Source: Various sources Skin Medica. Price $60-200 Be careful of scams if going for the cheaper option. It should smell odd and a little organic or it is not real. 3:) Sunscreen: It should be Zinc Oxide and titanium Based. Source Various Price Various. 30-50 SPF 4:) AHA Cream: Morning exfoliation, in studies is proven to accelerate the the results of tretinoin as it operates by a different mechanism. Should be applied in the morning. Price various source various. 5:) Vitamin C Cream: This one should be simple, mono ingredient, and cheap. Apply after AHA and before sunscreen. 6:) Silk Pillowcases: As you get older you iron in wrinkles as you sleep on your side and your collagen production gets weaker. Cotton also sucks out the moisture from your face. The only thing proven in studies to not cause ironed in wrinkles is silk. You can also buy a silk eye mask. I myself use the one from Manta. Word of caution it should be silk not satin, this distinction is very important it should say only one hundred percent silk. 7:) A simple lotion for your body. I use Lush Cosmetics solid body lotion myself. Cost $12 8:) a simple body retinoid. I myself use something called retinoil which is $20. This will fade imperfections in your body. I am still trying to find something that will further fade white stretch marks and I will update this if I can. You can find this at your local drugstore usually. 9:) The last thing for skincare and the one that should only be used when you have discontinued the retinoids or anything that could make you more sensitive to light. Also the thing that could help a lot of us the most. I am talking about laser hair removal or any form of permanent hair removal. A lot of my discomfort would leave me if I did not have to look at body and pubic hair. And I'm certain that a lot of you feel the same. This one can take multiple sessions and until recently left out those who were darker skinned and have lighter hair colors. More recent advancements have made it available for them to. However is expensive and requires multiple sessions. A more permanent but just as expensive and little more lengthy procedure is called electrolysis. This one kills the hair follicle. But it can be painful. The cost for this one can be iffy. You might have to game the system and pretend to have gender dysphoria to get hair removal covered by insurance. You're only half lying as you do suffer from dysphoria (unless you also suffer from gender dysphoria). Otherwise you are looking at a minimum investment of $2000 but it will be probably be closer to $6000 the good news is that this is basically a one time expense. Once it is done you at most have to perform some maintenance sessions every few months in certain areas but you may not have to do it all. Edit: (2/09/21) 10:) In addition to the retinoid for the body I have found one thing that is empirically backed for the fading of stretch marks. It is something called bio-oil. They have a website. Now we move on to health and Exercises: Little Boys and Girls are generally thin and limber. And if you were able to portray that image and demonstrate that ability you will be looked at as younger. Thin does not necessarily mean super skinny as if you are too thin you will look much older than you really are and cause severe health issues and damage to yourself that will make you look older. A notable example are some of the pictures you see of vegan men in San Francisco. A lot of them look like Holocaust victims and even though many of them are in their early 20s they look like they're in their 50s. For that reason unless you do it for religious reasons I cannot recommend veganism at all as none of their assertions about health hold up to scrutiny and the ""studies"" are often found to be fraudulent. Now if you were on a vegan diet for moral reasons I commend you but just know you are making things harder for yourself. Vegetarianism is doable but will require supplementation and Eggs. Most of us here seem to be on the autism spectrum. For that reason and it's 30 years of study despite its detractors I recommend you begin a gluten-free casein free diet. It helped clear up bowel issues I have had forever. And cleared up Acne I have had on my arms for as long as I can remember. Follow the caloric intake recommendation for your age and sex unless you are overweight. In that case you must operate at a caloric deficit. A good cookbook to follow is this one [<URL> amp;psc=1](<URL> amp;psc=1) I also greatly recommend the autism nutrition research Center Regiment. [ <URL>](<URL>) it can be expensive but it is research-based, and it is no more expensive than each of the ingredients purchased separately. Sleep: Little boys and girls have bed times. That means 9 o'clock sharp no exceptions. ( Unless you work) You should be getting the 10 hours of sleep your body demands. This means practicing good sleep hygiene such as taking your electronics out of your room buying and using bluelight glasses. Installing bluelight filters on your electronics. Combined with the skincare regimen above this should alleviate your dark circles which should make you seem younger. The idea that increase sleep lessons your lifespan has been disproven. Exercise: Little Boys and Girls Club are fit, thin and limber. Generally as well they have round perky bottoms and thin appendages. Depending on your build, getting too thin can actually be counterproductive and make you look older. I am not going to lie even if you do everything perfectly and manage to do everything I am listing and will continue to list your build will limit how young you can look. But You can optimize your physique to make yourself look younger. Everything should be mostly proportional, for example if you are big and bulky your arms and legs should be within the range of the rest your body. You should have muscle but it should not be well-defined, but you should also try to limit fat as much as you can but not too much as a small layer of fat can stand in for baby fat if controlled properly. It will take some doing but the ideal is to be proportional with a small layer of fat to create a slightly chubby childish look. That does not mean you should be chubby just that it should be look like you have baby fat. I mentioned it earlier one of the big things people overlook and will give you a way if nothing else does is your butt. Children almost universally up to the late teenage years have well-defined and rounded glutes. Some people would call this diaper butt even though no diapers are involved. This is especially true for boys, and is this perspective I'm speaking from. There are other guides for women but the ideal is you want to avoid making your thighs bigger while making your butt perkier. [ <URL>](<URL>) This website is a good place to start and is funnily enough aimed at women. Another place to look is a website and workout plan called autism fitness. Some of them are useless if you are not developmentally delayed enough for them but others are perfect for our purpose as our goal is to gain lean muscle and flexibility not bulk. For me personally I do bear walks, dead bugs, squats, sidesteps, glue bridges both weighted and unweighted, Russian swings, overhead band presses, and moderate weight bench presses. Ultimately the exercises that are perfect for you, you have to find in your own. There is a last exercise I can recommend to everyone that will definitely make you look younger and further reduce the appearance of wrinkles if you have them and prevent their appearance if you don't. It is called facial yoga. Basically it's an exercise routine for your facial muscles primarily your cheeks, this avoids the sunken look and if you start young enough or will you still have enough volume you can preserve and look much younger than you normally would even with the steps mentioned above. Combining these with some of the geroprotectors, research chemicals, and other substances in the next section and depending on how old you look you will be able to target a presenting age. Which while probably not your actual age should be significantly better than what you experience currently. Calm down look at yourself in the mirror and see what you can fix and change. How old will that make you look? Make that your target. For a lot of us that presenting age will be somewhere in your teens. Not ideal but significantly better than would be possible otherwise. For myself based on my old photos and what I currently look like in my early 20s I could easily shoot for and maintain the looks of someone who is 14. With a stretch goal if some of the things I am investigating pan out of 13 to 12. If I could make it to looking like I was 12 I would be within spitting distance of my actual age and I would be happy with it. But if it doesn't 14 will have to do. When I say 12 I mean what I look like when I was 12 same thing with 14. You could easily just say you're a tall kid. I will hopefully coin a phrase: Your Presenting Age Goal. The goal of looking as close to your true age as is feasibly possible. Geroprotectors and other research compounds: Geroprotectors are compounds that prevent and reverse aging in physical adults. They include peptides, regenerative medicine, and certain research chemicals and non-FDA approved pharmaceuticals which are safe and tested elsewhere. A big thing to look at are the Khavinson peptides. Many of them have studies behind them to present their efficacy and they were developed for the Soviet Union super soldier program which became defunct after the fall. If you have heard of elderly individuals having young blood plasma transfusions to be young again these peptides operate upon the same principle. They make your body repair itself. One in particular would be very important especially among those who have had a destroyed sleep schedule and want to present as younger. That is Endoluten the Pineal Peptide. This extends the telomeres of the body and more importanly fixes your circadian rhythms so you will fall asleep and wake up as a child with the falling of darkness and coming of day. Looks are only half the equation, the other half is how you outwardly present in one of the best ways to seem younger even if you don't look it is hyperactivity. For that reason the adrenal peptide GlandoKort also comes recommended as it will restore some of that hyperactivity. The only other two I would recommend as essential, depending on your individual needs of course is ventfort the blood vessel peptide. Increased blood flow to areas will not only make you more alert it will also make you look younger by renewing the blood supply in places and giving you that childish blush. And Sigumir the cartilage peptide. This will not only have an extremely positive effect in your skin but more importantly shore up your cartilage and allow you to increase your flexibility and further reduce the age you present as. [ <URL>](<URL>) I buy mine from here, but if you look you can find it elsewhere. Make sure to buy the Russian branding not the American branding as the 60 capsules only come with the Russian. Now we move on from generally safe peptides to the riskier research chemicals. This post as long as heck as it is so I will only list each chemical what it can do for you how it can make you present as younger and safety considerations. NSI-189: Your emotions will be more intense and much more like a child's, you may be mentally a child but your body's hormones may have ""matured"" out of that stage causing an emotional disconnect. It was investigated first as a smart drug by DARPA and is now being developed and marketed as an atypical antidepressant but it is not an SSRI. It will improve your memory and make it more like a child's as its primary mechanism of action is by increasing BDNF and increasing the size of the hippocampus. This one has been tested extensively and its effective dose is 40 mg increasing the dosage will not increase the effects it will actually lessen the effects. You can look up any contradictions in scientific studies performed upon this. Reputable source = [Science.bio](<URL>) I currently take this one. 9-me-bc: As long as you don't do drugs you will take greater pleasure and every day things and will restore ""the magic"". Many of you probably were put on ADHD medication, this works by down regulating dopamine receptors. This research chemicals on the other hand has been found to regenerate them even dead ones. You only need to take it for at most six weeks and you will need to avoid the sun like a vampire or put on sunscreen in that time. But the results are completely worth it. If you search on Reddit you might find traces of it being viewed as neurotoxic. There is no evidence of this as all compunds in this class do not have the same effect. Preliminary in vitro testing actually shows a neuroprotective effect. Reputable source = [Science.bio](<URL>) I also took this one but only for six weeks to repair early damage of ADHD medication. Cerebrolysin: I recently learned that I suffered from trauma induced alexithymia. PTSD, depression, and other traumas are actually a form of brain damage. This Russian peptide medication is primarily prescribed for that purpose. It is very safe and is been in use for over 70 years and has more than 400 human studies in several hundred more on animals. Why haven't you heard about it than? Because none of the studies are in English and the FDA doesn't consider any study not done in English to be credible. ( Yes I am serious) I recently finished a 30 day regimen of Cerebrolysin for 30 days. It did three big things for me. It restored my ability to feel emotions though I still need to learn interoception skills I never learned. It further expanded my awareness of the world and of myself. And it reopened the development period allowing me to start recognizing facial micro expressions and other conversational nuances that were beyond me before. It is also what gave me the awareness to realize I was an 11-year-old flying by the seat of his pants and gave me the nuance to look back on some of my actions ""growing up"" in a new light. I had always sought to recapture my childhood and remained looking as young as possible. A lot of my past and current behavior started to make sense in hindsight and present more evidence that I was mentally 11 even if I was intellectually much older. The benefit of this is you will better be able to judge situations and physically and emotionally express yourself which will serve the purpose of making you seem younger and simultaneously more polite so even if the people you're talking to see through you they are more likely give you the benefit of the doubt. It is intramuscularly injected so you will need to take time to learn how to do it safely if you so choose. Remember there is no pressure and you can take or leave whatever I present to you. The only legitimate source in the West to buy it is Rupharma. For older individuals that are of course numerous hormonal and other interventions you can partake in but I will not list them as they are up to you. That is all I have for now. I hope it can help some people. Or if it is considered too dangerous I apologize and will remove the post."
s_8_607,"I've never attempted suicide but I've been close enough to want to for thousands of days. I know deep down that if I ever attempt it won't be unless im positive I need to go. If I ever attempted it would be in the most lethal way that I was almost 100% sure would work, such as jumping from a tall bridge or shooting myself. The issue is that I desperately want to live. I've seen life through the lens of it being good. I know there's always a way to change my life around. It's not that though. The issue is that the persistent feelings of sadness and anhedonia never ever go away. I know I don't want to kill myself, but therein always comes the next question to which I have no answer: what do I do to feel better? I've tried so much I don't see any options left for treatment"
s_2237_1043,"My best friend/wife killed herself 2 years ago and I wish my anger would go away. This story is a bit long so you may want to grab a snack and a drink. We will call her Jenny for this. When I first met Jenny, she was my girlfriends best friend. My girlfriend accused me of having sex with Jenny, and broke it off. I DID NOT have sex with her. I was struggling with my own sexuality at the time. I had not been having sex with my girlfriend for some time. My girlfriend made this accusation upon returning from traveling to Alabama with her ex boyfriend. I'm not stupid; they fucked. And more power to them... I certainly wasn't doing it and had to think about dicks to even try. Yep... I'm gay I remember realizing. I remember telling myself, Fuck it who cares just be gay, dude. Jenny and I became good friends after this ordeal. When I met Jenny she seemed mature beyond her years but that maturity came with a child like innocence. Sometimes objects would entrance her. She would examine it closely and pick out the smallest details and appreciate their beauty. All this while having reddit open, and learning about particle physics at the same time. Oh and don't forget the octopus hat. I loved her so deeply. In a non-romantic way. Jenny had problems in her past. Her family was not very supportive of her. I think they just didn't know what to do. Jenny dropped out of highschool,after an off the record meeting with the school counselor; in which she was advised that she should do so. The school didn't know what to do with her either. Later I encouraged her to get her GED (good enough diploma) so that she could at least get into a local college. In order to take her, I got fired from my job for calling in sick and not providing a requested Doctors note. Fuck that job anyway, this shit was important. Jenny was highly, highly intelligent. She could figure anything out. She absorbed all available data that she could. Johnny Five seriously yo. Jenny had problems socializing with others. She liked big gatherings of people, but preferred to stay off to the side and observe while talking with the one or two people she felt comfortable with. After a while Jenny lost her job. She was fired for poor customer service. After that we did not have enough money to pay the bills. And I detected agitation... or an increasing anxiety in her. I knew she needed a doctor, but we had no insurance. So I said to Jenny, Why don't we just get married at the courthouse. I'll join them military and you'll get medical insurance. And she agreed. So that is what we did. At first it was great. Jenny was excited about us moving. Which was surprising to me because she did not like changes to her environment. But she was okay with this. Then, I got deployed.... while I was away, Jenny began reading the news about the war. Her agitation increased because she was completely dependent on me. What would she do if I died? Where would she work if she couldn't talk to people? And the news kept getting worse. She kept reading all the links on reddit about government programs spying on us citizens. About how people could hack into kinect and listen to what you're saying and watch you. About how the government could tap into your cellphone and listen to the mic anytime it wanted.....
Deeper and deeper into anxiety she sank. Her ability to absorb data was astounding. She would literally have hundreds of tabs open on her browser; and know what each tab contained. So all this dark bad news she absorbed. When I got back, I discovered half completed wall paint projects all over the house. I discovered unwashed gagging stink in the sink, of old ramen noodles, while the rest of the house was immaculately clean. The military medically retired me for the injuries I sustained from my time in Iraq. She continued to refuse to see a doctor. But after 2 years of random raging emotional meltdowns, she finally agreed to go. Oh my goodness the meltdowns. Her screaming and raging about how I shouldn't have a smartphone. The government is listening. She would bury her cellphone under blankets and insisted that we have double firewalls on the internet. Oh and she smashed up the kinect and the entire Xbox after reading hackers could see you. The psychologist did some aptitude tests and other tests. The psychologist called me in to discuss the findings. Jenny was in the highest percentile for intelligence. She should have been inventing fusion reactors....
But Jenny was also autistic. Used to be called Asberger's syndrome but doctor said that was not a real thing and its just called Autism. The only experience I had with autism was meeting the cousin of a friend of mine.... this kid was in his own world and didn't talk. But the doctor explained Jenny was had a high functioning autism. Around this time, I was to the point in my recovery that I wanted to use my 911 GI Bill to go to school. Jenny had revealed that she just wanted a house in the mountains somewhere with no internet and lots of books. The psychologist agreed that this might be the best thing for Jenny as her anxiety was virtually uncontrollable. Jenny refused any type of medication. OK so I will go get that house in the mountains for you. I needed to go to school and I wanted to work in ecology for national parks which are being overrun with invasive species of plants. So I found a school that was perfect for me in Washington State. The psychologist explained that Jenny needed to learn how to be independent. So I was given the okay by the doctor that Jenny would be fine if I left to go to school on the other side of the country. The doctor said she would monitor Jenny closely, and have social workers check in on her at home. So I went. I was gone for about one month. The day before school was to start, Jenny had a massive meltdown. Screaming over the phone at me how I abandoned her. This hurt so bad. I was doing this so that I could obtain the income to move her to the place she wanted in the mountains. She kept screaming, FUCK YOU! And then she hung up the phone. She had done this many many times before. Often not speaking to me or answering my calls for days aftwards. So I called the doctor and asked her to check in on Jenny. The doctor said she would go visit in two days because she was out of the state. The social worker was not answering her phone either. So I went to the orientation at the school the next morning. Jenny was still mad; not answering her phone. While washing my face in the bathroom I remember thinking, What if she killed herself? And then to my horror I said aloud, That would be a relief. Then I cried for 20 minutes for having thought that. I loved Jenny so much. I just wanted her to be happy. To recapture that innocence and wonder she had. To live life without mistreatment from others. I remember going and sitting outside her job at the mall and watch as the customers would abuse her. There was just something about the way she acted that invited people to scream at her and be rude. I interfered with one telling the customer to back off. Security then said I had to leave the mall and banned me. Fuck them, those motherfucking asshat security fucks with their plastic badges and stupid hats they wear indoors. That fat fuck couldn't see I was defending a family member against an aggressor. Dumb fat fuck, with the front of his mall cop uniform untucked because his belly was jiggling below it like it was jello. I had to leave home because the orientation day was going to start. So I went to school and tried calling every chance I got. No answer. But she's done this before. I kept telling myself she would be okay. But that evening, I could not take it anymore. So I called the police and asked if they would go check on her. The cop arrived at the house and called me on the phone. He said there was no answer but he could see the rice cooker light on through the window and the car was still there. I told him to bust the glass on the door and enter the house. He said okay and that he would call me back. Five minutes passed. A goddamn eternity it was. I called the cops phone. No answer. Ten minutes passed. Fucking cop won't answer the phone. Twenty minutes passed. Surely its something really bad he found if he's not calling or answering his phone. So I call the neighbor. Neighbor says that I better talk to the cop but its not good. With that information I tell myself. Jenny is dead. Finally the cop calls. He says, I'm sorry sir I have to inform you that your wife is dead. She hung herself. The body is cold so we did not try CPR. An ambulance is on its way. We then hung up. I couldn't believe it. I blamed myself for saying what I did that morning. I thought somehow that is what caused this. Even though we were not sexually involved, we were still married and therefore partnered in nearly everything. She was my best friend. She was just an innocent bunny. I dropped from school, returned home to clean out the house. And I saw it.... the hole in the wall above the closet. And then I realized why I could not find my German Shepherd Dog's leash. Jenny hung herself with it. And then I wept some more for about an hour. Walking around the now empty house. I was abandoning it. I could not live there but could not afford to pay the mortgage and rent on a different place at the same time. So I let it foreclose. But anyway. I remember walking around in circles, in her bedroom, weeping and looking at the hole in the wall. I just wanted Jenny back. Sometimes almost believed that any second she'll come walking in while talking way too loud about some kitten picture she saw on reddit or showing me yet another printout of Einstein's face that she photoshopped onto a kitten. I cried like I never cried before. I was slobbery, snot drenched, hot weeping mess. And then suddenly it stopped. And I was no longer sad but instead mad at Jenny. And I'm still angry. It was just such a waste. She was so damn smart. Should have been giving gifts to all humanity with her scientific discoveries. And she just quit life like that. She didn't give a fuck about how anyone else would feel about her suicide and just left. No note or anything left behind. What in the FUCK Jenny??????? And for 2 years I haven't told anyone about this anger or shown it. I just say that I am glad she is not suffering anymore. And I hope she's chilling with Einstein right now. My life has moved on, I am now using my pension to do humanitarian work in the Philippines. But dammit I'm still so mad at her. I wish I could feel something other than anger. Because I loved her and now she's gone. She just fucking quit and left. So that's it. Its off my chest I guess. Not really. I'll just bottle this back up and bury it inside like I always do. I'll just press on with life and keep my anger a secret from everyone else. And in private I'll say my usual, God fucking dammit Jenny. What the fuck? My prayer. TLDR:Please go fuck yourself, Lazy. :p. I asked nicely...
Edit: what's with all the fucking hate mail? I followed the doctors advice. I also sacrificed my life to take care of someone who's family abandoned her. I'm no saint... but at least I made sure she was fed, warm, and dry. I gave her everything she ever asked for and more. If you don't have the fucking balls to say shit here for public scrutiny then you're just a chicken shit pansy. Grow some balls. (Wait no those are weak) grow a vagina and then shove a watermelon out of it. Now you're a man. Wait.... what? Edit2: writing this was incredibly therapeutic. It's like something has been squeezing my heart and it just let go. I cried for the first time since i was in the bedroom looking at the hole above the closet. I will choose to be thankful for all the octopus hat wearing Einstein as a kitten moments. I'm still not fully okay. .. probably never will be. But at least the heart squeezing is gone. Thanks reddit."
s_1609_51,"Something I've noticed about my depression I feel like everyone thinks they can relate to what I'm feeling. Any time I tell someone of my insecurities, they reflect with ""I feel that way too,"" or ""Everyone gets that way sometimes."" They don't realize that it eats me alive. I can't live with my mistakes, myself. You might not think your pretty, but I think I'm freakishly hideous. You might not want to get out of bed, but I don't want to wake up in the morning. You might feel embarrassed by an awkward first encounter, but I can't stop thinking about it until I crumble. You might wonder if someone does or doesn't like you, I pray that someone in the world can stand to be around me. And no matter what I say, no one seems to understand the gravity of my fears and pain."
s_1145_64,"I do get angry easily but I do my upmost to control it. And people start stuff with me, like theyll try to bully me or they will just say that they want to fight me idk why"
s_1514_858,"I have a very strange curse, but I think I'm making the best of it You could say I've always been a bit of a miser. The thing is, it's not money that I pinch. Ever since I was a boy, I've made it a priority to spend my time as efficiently as possible. Build a sandcastle for five minutes. Play two rounds of tag in ten minutes. Rest, three minutes. Fun complete, time for chores. Needless to say, the other kids found me rather odd but I didn't let that stop me. Once I was a little older, I got a job as soon as I could, and poured all my time into working. With the inherent ethic that I had, it was easy to impress my managers. Even at my young age, I was surely in line for a promotion. Except I worked, day in and day out, and the first promotion came and went. They gave it to some new guy who laughed a lot, talked loudly and inappropriately, and went out for drinks with them often. No big deal, I thought. It was an obvious case of favoritism. Makes sense. I'll wait for the next. Of course, as we all know, the depression hit, and promotions stopped being a thing. I took a second job at a deli to increase my chances of getting somewhere, and began working eighty hour weeks, all with the extreme efficiency I'd always applied to everything in my life. I was slowly getting more and more tired, yes, but I often got impressed comments from my managers. Years *years* went by, as we all know, and the economy never got better. Still, life had to go on eventually, and promotions began happening again as those higher up moved on in various ways. I was passed over again, several times, at both jobs. A cold bitterness began gnawing at the back of my tired eyes as I hustled and bustled each day. I could blame someone, perhaps. I could be angry, or resentful, like my coworkers. Or, I could work even harder. I began working overtime at both jobs, and sleeping less. To say I was dead tired would be an understatement - but nobody noticed, given my carefully calculated work habits and efficiency. Then, it happened. ""Keep this up, and you're next in line for a promotion!"" my manager said offhandedly on one chilly Friday evening. I smiled and nodded and secretly burned with hope and rage. It was what I wanted, but how could I possibly keep this up? I could feel my body and mind falling apart as the exhaustion deepened in every fiber and nerve. A customer overheard the exchange. "" You look weary,"" the old woman said, coming up to the deli counter. I looked down at her. Hunched and wizened, she looked far too old to be wandering about on her own. She was dressed in a distinctive foreign style, but I couldn't quite pin down which one. She turned her milky blue eyes up at me and held out her hand. "" Does me no good now. No children, and not long for this world. You seem like nice young man."" I took the object from her - a small green gem, maybe a half-inch across, cut with many facets. It glittered darkly in the store's light. I thought I saw a small pulsing object embedded within, but it might have just been a trick of the internal reflections. ""I can't take this,"" I told her, eyes wide. "" It's against company policy."" ""Not worth any money,"" she said. "" You can take. It helps you."" ""Helps me?"" The skin around her mouth was the color and consistency of aged parchment, and I stared as it moved. Her lips curled up into a weak smile. "" Tell it what you want, then make cut in your skin and put it inside."" I recoiled. "" That's disgusting!"" She squeezed my hand around the gem, smiled one more time, and then hobbled off. Desperation can do odd things to a man. It can take away his fear, and give him a false bravery. I stared at the gem for the next few days, mesmerized by its emerald inner glow and by the possibility of her claims. I washed it with rubbing alcohol once or twice, just to make sure it was clean. Had it been inside someone else before? I put the gem away, intending to sell it, until a comment from my *other* boss set me off. ""Keep up these hours, and you'll go places!"" He'd meant it in good faith, but I could only nod, my heart burning. How could I *possibly* keep up extreme hours at *both* jobs? I went home in an exhausted rage, and got a knife. I chose a spot on the inside of my arm, in the meat just past the elbow, and made an incision. I thrust the gem inside, shivered at the odd feeling, and then stitched it all up. I passed out in bed, my arm leaking spots of red along my sheets. Of course, I felt like an idiot when I finally woke up. Not only had I cut a hole in my arm and put a strange object inside, I'd forgotten to set an alarm, and I was three hours late for my shift! I dressed and hurried over only to stop dead in my tracks outside the store. Through the window, I saw someone already there, handling my tasks. It was *me* another me! I stared down at my arm, where dark emerald veins pulsed around the gem I'd made part of me. Had I just gotten so tired that I'd lost my mind? Or was I really seeing another me, working in my place? What did that mean for me? Where would the other me sleep? Where would he live? Was he aware that he was a duplicate? I could work both jobs now but share the expenses? Pay for food for two people? The gem had been trying to help, as the old woman had said, but that good will was misguided in the face of cold, hard economics. My heart raced the entire day as I waited. I knew what I had to do, and I knew how to do it. I'd seen enough movies - duplications like this always ended in murder. Perhaps I was jumping the gun by going immediately for violence, but I only had one chance. As soon as he realized I existed, he would be on guard for this, because he was me, and he would know my thoughts. I waited in the shower, behind the curtain. I knew myself, so I knew he would come in and nervously eye the closed curtain as he always did. I never *really* thought someone was behind it, but god, what if there was? I always slid it open before I brushed my teeth, just to make sure. This time, he finally found something. I leapt forward with the hammer as he pulled back the curtain, and his forehead crumpled in around the metal head. He fell to the floor, twitching, and staring up at me in confusion but a few more squelching blows put a stop to that. I dragged his body to the loose floorboards under my kitchen area, and hid him in the four-foot high crawlspace I'd found underneath. A few chemicals I'd learned of on the Internet would take care of the smell and that was that. Except for the bloodstain on the bathroom floor, and the splatter on the curtain - which I threw out - there was no evidence my duplicate had ever existed. I scrubbed away at the stain, took a shower, and then passed out, relieved. I awoke before my alarm, at 6:59 just in time to see another me appear in the other half of the bed. He didn't stand a chance. I grabbed the hammer from the nightstand and slammed it into him repeatedly before he even had a moment to comprehend what was happening. "" No, wait -!"" He never got to finish his sentence. His body joined the first under the floor. I worked my two shifts that day, and then went home, realizing that I had a bigger problem on my hands. I tried to pry the emerald out of my arm, but the strange veins had hardened into my skin, and I couldn't even cut the thing out without taking off my whole arm. Just as I'd expected, at seven in the morning, a third me appeared. This was, apparently, going to happen every single morning for the rest of my life I'd wanted to be in two places at once, and do more than humanly possible, and the throbbing gem in my arm had given me that capability. I just had to think outside the box. It took a while to come around to what I knew I would have to do. For several months, I murdered myself each morning, and then went to work, a little more haunted and tired. The screams got me every time. They were *my* screams and how did I know I wouldn't be the one waking up with a hammer to the head the next morning? I tried not to think about it even as I created more efficient means of instant death for my duplicates. A few months after *that*, I ran out of willpower. I quit my jobs. At first, it was because I had a sub-basement full to the brim with corpse versions of me, enough that they couldn't fit under the floorboards anymore. Then, it was because I was selling the duplicate set of clothes that came with them each day, and living off that money. I invested in a nice suit, went to sleep in it, woke up, murdered myself very carefully, and then sold the new suit to someone else. When my buyers started asking questions, I had to go legitimate, and open a business. Only, I didn't sell suits. I didn't have enough inventory for that. I could only produce one set of clothes a day, and that would never be enough
So, I innovated. I'd already worked at a deli, so I used that experience. Now I run the most popular butcher shop on the west side. You should come by and check us out some time. We're having a sale. The best cuts are half off and the meat is sourced entirely locally. ---
[Follow me here for more stories like this](<URL>)"
s_2887_244,I still try but I just don't have the passion for it like I used to and it's so hard to stay focused.
s_1808_56,"Any good books on overcoming social anxiety and making friends? Also any advice appreciated Right now I feel extremely lonely right now, because I'm on summer break from from college, and all of my friends I made are from that college (and being summer break, they all went back far away to their homes). I'm basically stuck at home right now and so damn lonely, and I don't know how to make friends around here. I'm asking for books because books do seem to help me calm down when i read them and not feel so frustrated. I'm afraid of approaching people and I dont even know where to begin to try and make friends. I did try meetup.com, but the only groups nearby are basically for mothers. I thought of going to a bar but I'm afraid of going to a bar alone. I would try the gym I go to, but I don't know where to start there either. I'm trapped, frustrated, and depressed from being lonely, and I don't know what to do."
s_1190_10,How indecisive I am about important things.
s_1132_1004,"I'm feeling quite sad now. Just got banned from my favorite Discord server, and I think I'm going to lose a friend today."
s_1086_415,"Why do I owe a huge amount on my taxes this year when my income and withholding is unchanged? [ Background: I make less than 25K, single lady with no kids. I am not in school, I work full time for a public university. GREAT benefits. I owe $470 on my tax return. This is a substantial amount of money for me, and it's going to decimate the small savings I have managed to put by. Last year, I got a small refund. My income and withholding, as stated, has not changed. I'm confused and sad. :( I just put everything through a Federal Free Edition on Turbotax, and my only credit was for Student Loan Interest. TLDR: ELI5 why it's different so I don't get pissy and mail off a bunch of pennies. Please and thank you. 3
Edit- Changed deduction to credit"
s_1194_0,"toxic friend hi guys so idk how else to explain this its my first time on reddit but, i need help. i have this friend who ive known since elementary school and weve been friends since then. recently i feel like shes been supper toxic to me just randomly shell start being dry on purpose or just be toxic and rude to me for no absolute reason like ill be talking to her normally and it just happens out of no where. ill start feeling extremely shitty about myself afterwards as i already have low self esteem ill start to feel like it was something i said or if its my fault its really affecting my mental health as well like ill start to myself im the toxic one for thinking that she always needs to act the same i do i honestly dont even know. i feel like im really sensitive but at the same time wouldnt anyone else feel the same way. recently shes opened up to me and told me how shes obsessed with me but i was so confused how. she explained and she told me ever since we were young shes wanted to be me but its become very unhealthy . she told me that she feels the need to make me laugh or smile in order for me to still be friends with her she obviously has low self esteem as well. and those random times where shes dry she told me its to make herself feel good about herself because the fact that shes obsessed with me so she only does it to make her self feel better. she told me that she literally tries to hurt me mentally or make me feel bad for no reason and then she starts feeling guilty about and starting cutting herself and doing other things. she also told me if i were to stop being her friend she would actually kill herself. honestly idk how i feel about any of this i feel so lost and confused. i feel like shes really affecting my mental health but idk what to do anymore. shes honestly also making me really uncomfortable i feel so unsettled. can u guys give me advice or something idk :( i hope this makes sense."
s_900_1504,"Men, what are some of your standards/grading criteria/requirements that you look for on a dating site profile? I've been single for about 2 years now, and have had minimal luck with dating sites. I think my standards are too high, and I don't know if that's ""wrong"" of me or not. What do you guys look for? For me, the big things are:
* No kid
* Doesn't smoke (I guess I'd be ok with pot in small amounts)
* In college or working something other than retail
* Nonreligious
As I grow older, it's hard to find someone who doesn't have a kid it seems like. I'm awful with kids though, and I don't really know if I want them myself. The third and forth ones I debate whether or not I should be more lenient here because I don't even know what I want from a woman. If I want kids, I sort of like the idea of a stay-at-home mom... But on the other hand, I want someone career oriented so I'm not the only one bringing in money. It seems like every on OKC/POF wants to be a hair stylist or something and for some reason that's just a turn off for me. I know it's judgemental but I assume they're just some superficial ditzy bimbo. As far as religion goes, I'm (obviously) not religious and I certainly couldn't date someone who is very religious but I don't know about the people who believe in God but don't go to church and won't get upset over trivial things. Part of me feels guilty over 3 and 4, but then I also think to myself that if I'm looking to spend a significant amount of time and energy with someone, it should be someone I truly want to be with, right?"
s_1788_361,Definitely I do have one meal every two weeks whne I order what ever the hell I like and eat as much as I like and it has not hindered me to much at all tbh
s_1586_538,I took tickets to a football game off someone's hands only to find out Kendrick was on the same day for $30. Wanted to cry.
s_993_720,Well I will get a consultation again when all this Covid stuff normalises a bit. But I feel even having an answer won't help much. The important part is having a routine. Having self control. I am failing miserably. There's no meds for that.
s_701_731,"Anti-Psychotics slow down or stop your metabolism all together. I don't get appetite increase that much, maybe I eat a 100 or so more calories than a normal person. There is also no way that someone that used to NEVER put on weight put on 80-90 pounds in 11-12 months. It's not possible without eating at McDonalds everyday, every night and every midnight. When you say ""meds don't cause weight gain""... Steroids do and so do Anti Psychotics...
[here's the evidence, found on the Quetiapine wiki](<URL>)"
s_3040_978,"After more than 5 really long sob-story drunk texts to the same person, I just took his number out of my phone. Pretty much the best decision I ever made."
s_701_457,My appetite isn't exactly great lately so I know I'm not over eating (well right now at least).
s_2215_755,What if I don't have ADHD amp; I'm just naturally incompetent? How can I tell the difference? How can I manage this cognitive bias? How do I know that I am not subconsciously lying to myself? How can I know for sure that I've ADHD? How can I be sure that this is not an excuse that I am making to feel better about myself? I'll just keep typing now to reach the 300 word limit now. I hope I typed 300 words. gt; Edit: Guys I cannot reply to any more comments now but do know that I'll be reading them. Even the ones with 2000 words. Slowly but surely. - Also just wanted to say that I'm not depressed or anything. It came off too self critical in the title but I don't look down at myself. I do struggle with crippling anxiety and I can be too harsh on myself but I am recognizing this in myself. It's helping me to be more conscious of my self talk. Thank you for all the kind words and advices. I'm still reading them all!
s_931_428,"Just letting it all out I honestly don't care if no one listens. Somedays are good some are not...I feel like a complete failure to my family I can't even do school right I can't even start my day right I feel like anything I do is wrong and I feel alone sure I have people I talk to at school that call me their friend but I still feel alone I have no one close no one to share this with and it eats me up inside, I'm 16 and my life feels like a huge mistake like it was never meant to be I'm only 16 why me why ? I just want to feel happy I just want this to stop I just want to feel normal again I want to have a day where I don't feel like a total screwup, at my school i put on the mask of a kid who cares for others but on the inside I don't care for myself sure I might have a smile all day but it's not real and frankly I'm to good at it."
s_2993_296,"I'm not sure what mgs they started me at smh, I hear less is more with them. It's so hard for me to trust these people and big pharma! But I am truly tired, but I say that but can't find the energy to figure out what way to go. No one told me anything really when it happened, that too just wait it out or how long it would last, I'm so quiet and shy I don't advocate for myself like I should. And I prolly forgot forgive me, how long you been on them now?"
s_552_443,"So...you realize that NOW...YOU HAVE 2 CHOICES TO MAKE. You likely go into organ failure. I'll tell you from experience that kidney failure is miserable. Pancreatic as well. If your liver goes, your done. Transplants are still considered miracles. Or...you bite the bullet and call an ambulance and go to the hospital and hope they can do something to put you back to SOMEWHAT normal. If you make it, hit me up. I'd like to tell you a story about my life. I've attempted suicide many times. I've been successful once. I've seen and felt what happens when we die. It's as beautiful as it is terrifying and for someone your age...a damn shame. You haven't even gotten to the parts of life that you'll call the best days of your life. I remember 15 very well. I felt like you did. I didn't attempt suicide as much as I purposely put myself in positions where I was bordering on a death wish just to seek adrenaline and to feel SOMETHING"
s_993_703,SSRI was prescribed to me when I was young and tried to commit suicide without any counseling and such. I was a mess and it didn't suit me at all. Frankly it out me off medications. After 12 years went to psychiatrist again. This time I trusted the process took 3-4 tries for combo that worked for me. I was scared of losing my mental aptitude. But surprisingly it got better. It tapered off later though. I am on Wellbutrin which is norepinephrine-dopamine reuptake inhibitor (NDRI) and Latuda. I was bombarded with constant suicidal thoughts earlier. But it's all very calm up there now. Even now when I am off meds for a fortnight I haven't had suicidal thoughts. Just emptiness and nothingness feeling. My insomnia got worse though and I am on regular sleeping pills. Latuda gave me restless leg and some tremors early on but it got better later.
s_2993_474,Anything specific? Just in general? Feel free to pm if that's easier or I can send one if that's easier. Hope you don't have a hard time making decisions like me lol but I'm open and willing to try for you
s_2832_876,I dont have the energy for that!
s_356_60,"Im so lonely, so very very sad and lonely. I hate living each day in this repetition of school, work, and then Isolation. I am wounded by this constant anxiety of the people around me. Im so terrified of people, and I can barely look them in the eyes. I feel as if a thousand vengeful wandering eyes are constantly watching me. I wish I wasnt so damn paranoid. I have no close friends, im not close with my family, and the only time i leave the house is to go to concerts. I'm forgetting how to be a person. I'm so very lonely. I just want a friend. I want a best friend. some one that will always remember I exist and hold me close to them. I don't care about a romantic relationship anymore because attraction in that way is hard to come by. I would love to cuddle or be held by someone I have deep feelings for though. To just sleep next to them. Know that i am important. I just want some one that i can keep close without pushing them away or without me becoming overwhelmingly clingy. I hate myself and I wish to die. The one thing I desire the most is for someone to just lay on my roof with me. We can watch the sky and the starts together. Talk about the past and laugh about how sad we are. In those moments i would truly feel alive. We can listen to low-fi indie/emo bullshit and just feel like we matter to the world. Life would be great. Im sorry that i am too much to bare. Im just so use to being on my own that once i find someone i deeply care for its hard for me to not be clingy. I'll just spend a few months in bed so everyone that i know will think im dead. id be lying if i said i didnt dream sometimes about what it would be like if i didnt have this life. Im so tired of hiding and resenting the people I love. Constantly drowning in my regrets and being paralyzed by depression and anxiety. Im sorry for this long ass post but I just wanted to vent."
s_2415_142,"My friend is living my dream in front of me I wanted to be a singer(I know every teenager dreams of being a rockstar or a popular singer or a celebrity or something like that). I wanted to be one as well. I happened to become a friend of someone who was also interested in these things. Thing is long story short, I have had a tough life. My dad has been an unemployed, alcoholic, drug-addict, foul mouthed person all his life and obviously I have been quite poor and couldn't afford lots of things. I had to be grateful for even have my basic needs fulfilled. Not to mention on top of all of it I faced lots of abuse and trauma throughout my childhood and teen life. However, my friend has had a good life. I always see him happy and smiling. His dad was a government worker and earned lots of money(now retired). He still gets pension and I don't know how much money he must have saved. Nobody talks about that stuff. Again, my friend could afford lots of things as compared to me and never really had any restrictions. He could follow whatever his heart told him to. So he kept practicing singing and mixing mastering. He bought a laptop, a tab, a DSLR, a digital camera before that and everyone has smartphones in their house. Recently he bought an expensive microphone and he has started covering songs that are of good quality. I can't help but feel so jealous because I was fucked over for so many years and now I am depressed and hate my life so much and then just in front of me my friend is living my dream. It's like the universe has rubbed salt on my wounds. It makes me even more depressed to see that he might actually make his own dream come true. I know you would say if I had the talent I could become a singer as well. The thing is I accept I don't have a great voice. Even if everything was right in my life I still wouldn't be able to buy talent. Although I have a decent speaking voice(people have told me to become an RJ on a number of occasions) I simply do not have the singing voice. My main problem is I have no support network from anywhere now. My parents can't do anything and my relatives keep telling me to get a job and no one will even support my education anymore. I am kinda like on my own now. My friend won't help me either. It is his priority to look after himself first. He has explicitly told me that if he doesn't see his own benefit then he won't benefit anyone else which means he won't let me come at his house and record or just play around with microphone because he wants to get famous first. I just don't know what to do. If I didn't know him it would have been fine but he is a friend of 6 years and watching him grow makes me feel bad because I was getting fucked over and having suicidal thoughts when he was out there enjoying."
s_293_38,"I hate that I met her When I met her I was in a depressed state, I was harming myself everyday and was almost going to kill myself, then I met her, she was so perfect she made me laugh for the first time in years, she talked daily with me till dawn, she kept me away from all the bad thoughts, while we dated things kept getting better and better, I really thought I was going to be okay, but then she left me, now I hate that I ever met her, I hate that the memories keep coming back, I hate that she moved on so fast, I hate that I'm harming myself again, I hate that I'm back to smoking and drinking, I hate that I'm failing college, I hate that everything I do reminds me of her, I hate that she blocked me, I hate myself, I hate everything. But yet I can't hate her, I love her so much and I wish she comes back everyday, I hate that because she's not here I'm back to my depression, I haven't eaten anything in 5 days, just smth small to stop me from fainting, but I'm vomiting everytime I do, I started vomiting blood, I've become a heavy smoker, today I finished 2 packs, it's just 3:20 pm, I'm about to go drink now. I haven't had anything to eat today and idk if I will I don't want to be here any longer, I keep harming myself and when I see myself bleed, I feel Disguested with myself, it hurts when I walk cuz I cut my hips. I was at college today, I was kicked from class because I almost hit my doctor, he got on my nerves and I couldn't handle it anymore I have no one to talk to, everyone left, we were in the same group of friends, none talks to me anymore because we broke up, my DMS are dry, I got no one to talk to, I have no one. Now my parents became more abusive, mentally and physically, there hasn't been a day where my mom didn't wish I was dead. Suicide is becoming more of an option ngl, I think I'll try to see if there's anything to live for, if not Ima blow my brains out. I think I'm losing grip on sanity. I just wanted to be happy"
s_2402_1189,"I tried to kill myself...and failed. Not once, but twice. In one night. It's now 3:20 am after trying. I'm going to do it again and suceed, I'll just have to work out what went wrong. But wtf WHY didn't it work. 1st was ligature 2nd was hanging
These were 15 mins ago. Why didn't it work I'm now pissed off and I feel stupid that I can't even kill myself right! Better get some sleep now I try again tommorow"
s_1552_129,"Zoloft was a completely terrible med for me. I was on it for roughly 6 months and it was hell. I couldn't sleep at night, I was really, really irritable and emotionally numb. I also had a major issue with rage. I went cold turkey off it!! Not recommended at all. I would call the doctor and tell them what's going on."
s_1834_697,"We all make mistakes. I sure did with my corgi, but part of any new task or job is learning, and without that, there is no growth. Personally, I've chosen to look at it as I was parenting the way I was taught, because that was all I knew, but now I know better. I still feel a lot of guilt, but working with my dog and truly spending time with him doing things he wants to do and being there as his cheerleader as he learns new things has helped ease some of that guilt. Please please leave reviews on social media about the trainer. If it were me, I would let the vet know about their friend's behavior and that I would be leaving a review on the trainer's social media, as other potential clients deserve to know and have some warning. I would also strongly consider leaving a review on the vet's website with the information, since they recommended them and especially if they still referred clients to them, but that's just me."
s_1816_320,"I don't even know where to start. I guess I'll just go down through the order you went in, and elaborate on things as I go. Although I was already sort of interested, I was 12 when I formally began studying this stuff independently, so around the same age. I can't speak to your experience with the mirror specifically, as I know nothing about that other than my dad told me that if you stare into the mirror long enough you will see who you were in a past life. I too have some really vague early memories, like the taking of my first portraits (as a baby). One's vision is not fully developed at that point; all I know from the memory is that it was done by what I can determine was an old lady (although I certainly didn't know the meaning or vocabulary to interpret that at the time). I'm so sorry to hear about your childhood trauma. Becoming empowered, if you will, had the opposite effect on me. It's like I became a new person. I had suffered from some anxiety issues in childhood, and, at that point, I learned to overcome them, with mental fortitude, and it's like my childhood before that was sealed off like a past life. I remember major things and the general format of regular occurrences, like going to the mall with my mom, but not a lot of specific mundane memories. Those are somehow locked away. Dreams with premonitions are a perfectly normal part of life; some people just have them a lot more than others, if you are receptive to it, and if you sleep well enough to remember it. Lately I haven't been sleeping well, but when I do, I remember my dreams every night, and have *psychic* ones at least once a week. My most recent one predicted that I would have to go to the store with my mom to return a pack of socks. But in the dream they were white socks; the real ones, the next day, were black socks. So yes, of course, the signals you are subconsciously picking up on are never exact, because although, theoretically, the signal your mind is receiving and reading ought to be exact, it must pass though our mind and perceptual set (our lens of understanding), and be interpreted into language. And I am totally familiar with the ""THIS IS IT"" moment. I wouldn't describe it in quite the same way, but it feels great. I am quite good at getting a feel for people's intentions/emotions, and I can complete sentences and such for people. I don't have a deep empathic link like you described though; that is intense. I have no connection to Buddhism, but meditating to channel energy is basically the first thing I learned how to do in this field. As you surely already know, but may or may not have realized, the first thing one must be able to do is clear one's mind; think of absolutely nothing. In my mind's eye, my energy is electric blue and sparkly. My favorite color tbh. I guess it resonates with me. so greenish yellow (which is one of the colors that only a percentage of the population can see, thanks to having extra cones in the cornea) is evidently a color which resonate with you. It's really cool that you met someone like Dakota. I wish I had. I taught some people some skills; my dad is into this stuff but I never could really talk to him about these things in more than a theoretical sense. the director for a theater play I was in once, after I had read someone's mind and freaked them out because they somehow knew (I didn't do it as a parlor trick, I did it to guess a number to get a part in the intro scene we were adding), so she, the director, calmly talked about aborigine mental communication until he calmed down (like two minutes). Enchanting objects is quite easy to do. As with any ""spell"", if you will, it is all about channeling energy for intentions; simple as that. One of the persons I was teaching was my ex, before we got together. I'd taught him to do make a shield (like you described sealing the room sort of), and I could feel him extend it around me as he practiced it. I didnt say anything, because, as we were just friends at the time, I didn't know how to react to such a personal trust; because that's almost like giving someone access to your soul; like, I'm protecting myself from any potential negative influences, but I feel no need to protect my mind and my soul from you. I didnt say anything, but then he asked if I knew what he did, and I let him tell me before I said I knew, because, at the back of my mind, I didnt want to be wrong. I hadn't been teaching him long when he enchanted an object, a hairbow, and gave it to me. I didn't have to ask though; I knew exactly what he did. It was a love spell. The ""legal"" kind; the reminder/make you think of me kind. I knew and I wore it anyways because it was sweet. I told him ""I know what you did to this"", and he just smiled. your friend's ability to visibly see the energy and not just sense it is very special. I had one friend who could visibly see auras (I think, or she could feel the color; one or the other). I have yet to visibly see such things, but I can feel them, and visualize them in my mind's eye. so, on that note, could Dakota see the color of the energy? or just sense it? People are socialized to not believe though. I had an ex friend who I had started teaching, whom me enemies turned against me (yes mind control spells are a thing; she was the first I taught, and from then on, I learned to teach defense first, as I was describing about my ex). Even if they've witnessed things, like how Dakota accurately described what you did, they can be convinced it wasn't real. So watch out for that. Do you still speak to Dakota? Earth is my element; there's a story about how I know that as 100% fact (but I dont like dirt?, so it's strange). I am quite impatient. I have done ""work"" that involved a meditative state for more than 20 minutes, but to just focus energy for 20 minutes solid? That I've never done. I would like to though. who knows what I could accomplish. That being said; to make anything big happen, it is a fact I have found, and that a powerful wiccan I know (who I didn't find out was a wiccan until later) also happened to say, is that: *you have to need it* . One of the biggest things I've ever done, I did without waiting for a buildup of energy, because the energy came from the sheer force of dire need. ( I can share that story too if you want). The need however, lies with the person. What is a dire need for you may not be a dire need for others. If you can make yourself feel a dire need, then the power is yours. That is hard to fake though. I am still working on it (though not as much as I'd like to). Energy manipulation has a young prime. Once life responsibilities take over your mental energy, it is hard to do, unless you've kept it up continuously. The biggest tip I can give you, especially to get the dreams back, is to get adequate sleep. I have been staying up late lately, because I am studying abroad and have major FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) with my night owl friends. But prior to that, I had been getting more sleep and thus, having more lucid and *psychic* dreams. That last experience you mentioned though, specifically, I don't think that's earth energy. That's electric, or weather. Just pure energy really. That's what lightning and thunder are. Electricity. Sheer force. A force of nature. :) So yeah; I could probably go on and on, but I hope this is helpful/ comforting, and feel free to AMA."
s_1352_177,"Relapse felt like living someone elses life. After nearly six months sober, I thought that drinking would feel like going back to normal, but it didnt. You know in Groundhog Day when Bill Murray tries to methodically recreate a fun night with Andie McDowell but the whole time it feels unnatural and forced? Thats what drinking again was like. What used to feel natural to me now just felt off, like putting on your old favorite shirt and finding it didnt fit right anymore. If there are any other relapsers out there kicking themselves, we didnt undo all of our progress. Every sober day, consecutive or not, moves us farther away from the people we used to be who didnt even try. For me, relapsing made me realize that even if I wanted to, I cant make my old way of life work for me again. Ive come too far. ( Of course, it never really worked to begin with, but I wasnt ready to accept that.) Anyway, thanks for attending this rant and I hope you all have a great day!"
s_1805_1353,"Reddit, I am short, balding, unhealthy, lazy, overweight, unattractive, and unhappy with what I'm doing with my life, I feel like I've hit a mid-life crisis, but I'm only 22 years old...What do I do? I always tell myself I need to do this, and I need to do that, but how do I go beyond telling myself? I can never actually bring myself to do it. Every once in a while I am able to get myself to a gym and I find myself actually having a good time cycling or using the elliptical for an hour listening to my music and I enjoy myself, but despite that it's still a struggle to even get that far. I feel unhappy with my life and the minimal things I have accomplished. I feel extremely unattractive, and it doesn't help that thanks to my family's genes, all my fat accumulates in my belly, so I almost look as if I'm pregnant. The only good thing I've felt that has happened to me in the last couple years is getting married. I love her very much and I couldn't ever possibly see myself with any other woman. Somehow she saw through any physical or mental facade I had and saw the real me. But my problem is I don't even know who I really am anymore. It is hard for me to get out of bed every morning, and if I didn't have any other obligations, I would lie in bed all day. I set multiple alarms for myself and I cancel each and every one when they go off in the morning. Even if the alarm is on the other end of the apartment. I will get up, turn it off, and go back to bed. I eat unhealthy food and can't make myself eat things that are good for me. I feel like I'm in a cycle of self destruction and I can't get out. It's killing me from the inside but I only keep making it worse day by day. I need help, what do I do? **edit** Thanks a ton for all the replies guys. I promise that I've read every single comment that was a reply to the post (I don't know if I'll be able to get through all the subcomments). I am indeed a very disorganized person, and people have given me links to places that can help me keep track and help me set goals for myself. The first step I am taking will be to wake up at specific times every day (save for the one or two days a week where I work until 3am). My plan will be to wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, and go to the gym. I think I'll also pay for a personal trainer so I can get some sort of workout plan since I really don't know much about the gym and when I go I just mindlessly do stuff with no direction (this will help in the goals department)"
s_976_47,"I'm sorry it took so long for you to stop blaming yourself. I recently had an epiphany driving in my car, I had always blamed myself and the fact that we were both drunk, he was drinker than I was, but I sort of realised, ""hey, I've been very drunk in my life, but I've never raped anyone"" realising this helped me so much. It only took me five years, a complete mental breakdown to do it, but I don't blame myself anymore."
s_993_743,Functioning ok in office. Making jokes and laughing. But get super depressed after I get home and just lie in bed. Currently not able to take meds due to unavailability. Am I just lazy. If I can do stuff in office why can't I do the same when I get home. I was in bed all day in the weekend. Taking a shower felt like such a big task for me. I need to somehow manage without meds for some time. I feel hopeless.
s_2143_84,When my dad cancer got worse I felt like my whole world turned grey. I didn't enjoy past hobbies like I used to and when my sister told me she was engaged I felt empty. Luckily I realized being open about depression helps me a lot.
s_3031_37,"In my opinion, if you're a writer you MUST read. It's part of your job to know how story structure works (and doesn't work) and learn new techniques through reading. When I first started writing novels I lost my love for reading and couldn't concentrate to finish any - it was very depressing. THEN I realized that since I started writing my reading tastes had changed so I started reading things far outside what I ever had before. I fell in love again and realized I wasn't being challenged before and needed new reading challenges to stimulate my passion for reading and writing."
s_976_213,"Yep, sadder than when Bambi's mother died, sadder than Mufasa's death. Artax is a fairly good analogy for major depression. I remember crying and crying and crying."
s_356_186,"Scared to get any better. Am I the only one? *background* Been depressed since I was very young. I suffer from isomnia, anxiety, social anxiety, and clinic depression. I've been extremely suicidal in the past 8 months. Tried to kill myself 3 times, but failed. Anxiety attacks are very common and I usually stress over every little thing. My paranoia makes me afraid to go outside anymore. For some reason I'm very afraid of healing. I feel as if it's a part of me and without it my other problems would overwhelm me. I've tried to got to counseling, but broke it off after 2 sessions. I never take medication because I'm scared of side affects. I'm tired of feeling so down, but yet I do nothing to heal. I just end up laying in my dark room. I feel so pathetic. As if I don't deserve to get better. I just wanted to know, am I the only one that's afraid to heal?"
s_2415_763,"Well, I don't know. I have suppressed loads of things but one thing stands out is my friend who I considered my best friend didn't tell me about a lot of things for a long time and I was friends with him since 9th grade. It devastated me because I thought we were best friends. Then I kept wondering if I actually even knew this person or not for all these years. I was really into at least 3 girls and they all rejected me. My self esteem went down and I was feel as if people just don't like me now. I am too afraid to go out there and express myself. There are plenty other bad things that have happened and I am not sure if I can write them out right now."
s_3056_1677,"Damn it, Now I feel guilty!"
s_800_36,I'm a very positive person. Unlike Berniebots I don't need a savior. I have everything I could want in life and more.
s_473_478,"I feel like you are having a bit of dysmorphia about your sack. Maybe, but if so, at least I have practical reasons for this dysmorphia. You can't couch your issues in different flavors to solve your goals man, thats not logical. You should understand that the lack of testosterone from a full castration will make you not care about that stuff nearly as much as you do now. Oh sure, but I will still have a romantic attraction to some women, now wouldn't I? You could find yourself alone and confused from lack of drive to pursue others. These are things you might not learn by asking one sided questions. While I might have less drive to pursue others sexually, I will still have a lot of drive to pursue others romantically. Plus, it's not like women have zero sex drive. I have balls but no sex drive, enough that I worry about taking testosterone supplements. Exactly how old are you, though? I ruined several relationships because neither of us understood how to talk about the problem. I am sorry to hear that. :( I hope you can find someone to talk to about your sexual needs and help you to find an answer that is beneficial to you before you do something drastic. How about a therapist at my university, though? I'm glad to pm in further if you like. OK; thus, go ahead and do this! :) Seriously. :)"
s_2000_255,Was this a premonition? So I was supposed to go to a friends house this weekend and its a decently long drive. I had been stoked about it all week. Friday afternoon I suddenly began to panic and the thought of driving there terrified me to the point I began crying. Once I calmed myself down I went back to work. This afternoon I read about a multi vehicle accident and multiple deaths in the same area I would have been traveling and at about the same time I would have been traveling through there. I am so freaked out. I want to cry. Its strange. Am I weird?!
s_313_967,"Straight A's I was having some trouble at college. You always hear story about how the roommate of the girl who commits suicide automatically gets straight A's. That's about all you ever hear about that girl, the one who walks in and finds the other one that way. Being back home feels weird, but at first I didn't care. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed and stay in the dark away from everyone. Almost nothing changed at home since I left. The house was exactly the same. In fact, the only change was that mom didn't do her own vacuuming every day now, since she bought one of those stupid ""Roomba"" things from a Skymall magazine. I slept most of the day and night. My parents worried about me. They brought me food and offered to take me places, but I always said no - the most I could manage was to read a few posts on Reddit while avoiding Facebook and the torrent of memorials from her recently acquired array of ""best friends"" there - before rolling over and falling back into a warm, dreamless sleep. The police came to question me again. I took a shower for the first time in recent memory and faced the off-colored light of the day. My glasses were off and music was playing in my room. As I walked down the hall from the bathroom to my bedroom, I stepped onto something. It was *alive*. I squealed and retreated into my room, the creature hissed and squirmed off down the hall. I still don't understand why they bought a white Roomba for cleaning their white carpet. The police said that there was new information, and asked me a bunch of weird questions about the room we shared and the rest of the dorm building. They kept asking if we knew of anyone who kept animals in the dorms, especially something like a snake or anything that laid eggs. I started to feel lightheaded and like the world was too bright for me. I just got back to bed before I started hyperventilating. I'm exhausted. It sounds lame, I know - I was up for all of three hours. Now that I'm in bed, I'm being kept up by the hissing, whirring sound of the Roomba. It's trapped in my room, and I'm too lazy to get up and open the door. The other thing that's keeping me awake is the strange way that Lucy was acting in the week before she died. She never was one to go out all the time, but that last week, she kept the curtains drawn and I don't think she ever left the room. Maybe there was something else wrong with her, like she was poisoned or...
Do Roombas climb walls?"
s_818_658,I am I am just severely sleep deprived
s_2100_649,"I've had a lot of trouble with depression over the past two years, and my dad's struggled with it, when he was a teenager and even these days sometimes. I tried to kill myself last Wednesday. It scared him a lot and I felt awful. But then other times he reminds me that I'm so selfish and awful, and how I can never give back. They spent so much money on me - hospital and antidepressants and therapy. It stressed my mom out a lot too. he's reminded me that it all depends on me and what I do in life, but just feels like I'm such a burden on them, I don't know what to do :("
s_3040_819,"I'm not interesting I've come to the realization that I am a boring individual. I have no hobbies, I don't branch out, and I'm sad most of the time. I go to class, then I sit and watch Netflix and get drunk until I go to bed. Due to injuries, there are very few physical activities I can do without immense pain, and the only other things I do for fun (crochet, baking) are entirely solo. I've been dating around, looking for someone I have anything in common with, and simply haven't been able to. I thought it was because I hadn't found anyone I'm really interested in, but that's not it. It's because I have nothing to have in common with someone. TL; DR: I'm boring, and I don't know how to change it. EDIT: Thank you all for your comments. Unfortunately, I just started Christmas break, but you all have helped me think that maybe I should just go do things."
s_301_61,"Dude, I can't even tell you the last time something had my complete attention. I watch movies / games at home and I'm barely even into it cause I have my phone and computer with me and continuously get distracted. A little overdramatic but I definitely feel like I don't enjoy anything the way I used to. I'm just disengaged most of the time."
s_1856_49,"Partner(26M) brushes off my feelings. He says he doesn't care for these woman but daily looks them up. Insecurities are getting to me and I don't know what to do anymore Back story:My (F26) partner (M26) of 8+ years , we haven't had the perfect relationship. We started dating the beginning year of Sr. Year in high school. We were friends before getting into this relationship. Soit started ok but got really rocky after a couple of years. I myself have never been a sexual person because trauma as a child. I've gone to therapy and have improved but still little no desire to have any sexual activity. The thing is that my partner has always has a high libido and me well I don't. So it ends up with us fighting because of this I get it the man has needs. He goes out of his way to not worry me and handles his needs privately. I've never had any problems with him watching porn,, because who doesn't watch it? I can't please him so he gets off on watching that. But lately I've been noticing he's been searching up specific woman on ig. I don't know if he uses these pictures and clips to get off but he denies that he's doesn't search woman up I've caught him looking in specific woman and there's a couple in particular that we went to high school with and they have become those girls who take ass shots in bikinis and whatnot. What gets to me is he denies its so hard and says he has no interest in them. Excuse me why do you keep searching them up on the daily? He doesn't message them or Comment on their post but checks up on their page. He has had a very sexual past and I feel like my insecurities are getting to me again.its to the point where I feel like I'm not doing it for him anymore. I try and seems like ita not enough. He brushes off my feelings for this situation like it doesn't matter. He lies and keeps this away from but at what cost to protect my feelings. I rather have him be honest than hide all this from me.. I really hate this. Am I overthinking this shit or what because I'm losing my mind"
s_2004_10,I'm falling apart My only and best friend left me today. She had enough of me venting to her (I'm a boy) and I'm mentally breaking down. I can't fall asleep and I'm just crying. Note: I'm diagnosed with severe depression 2 years ago and i have anxiety and social anxiety.
s_2781_822,I love myself
s_1255_238,"I'm 3 months HRT. I had a strong sexual libido before. When I started my sexuality largely disappeared, and then it came back but it was way more focused on cuddling and stuff. My tits also just started growing which I'm over the moon about."
s_1255_294,"I was diagnosed with major depression at about age 16. I was suicidal long before that, and continued being suicidal until my late 20s. I didn't have any relationships, I didn't build a career, I didn't go to school, I didn't make any forward progress in my life. I put on weight, became an alcoholic, and stewed in my own misery. I felt completely and utterly worthless and I couldn't wait to die. And then I got better. I managed to pull myself out of the pit of despair that I had been in. I started dieting and working out to become much healthier. I went back to school and started working on a degree in computer science for a career that I can really love. I quit drinking and smoking entirely. I'm now hugely motivated and spend my time lovingly working on myself. I like myself, I am optimistic about the future, and I know that I can and will continue to be happy. After nearly 3 decades of failure and misery I managed to become truly happy. When people say it's never too late they aren't just blowing smoke up your ass. It really doesn't matter if it takes you longer to get it together than others. There's no time limit on this stuff. You can start at 30 and still be a happy fulfilled person."
s_2455_42,"Omg, I feel like I am constantly banging my head into a wall. All this suffering and nothing seems to pay off! I hate myself!"
s_2679_40,"I wish I could cry. I feel so numb inside. I actually feel really good, I just have no emotions. I wish I could have a good cry but I can't get myself to cry. I think sometimes people need to cry to let all the feelings out. Edit: Do others feel numb but aren't feeling depressed at the time?"
s_1749_868,When I go to hand someone something and they make me wait for a bit before they put their hand out to take it. Or when someone has something to hand me and I put my hand out and they just set it down in front of me. I'm kinda irritable sometimes. On that note I hate when people give me advice when I don't ask for it. Particularly when it comes to all of my significant health problems including chronic pain. I really want people to stop recommending yoga and acupuncture. It is way to frequent of an issue for me. I am very active in trying to find the right treatment to get better but somehow people treat me like I am failing to do so.
s_2035_236,Dont delete! I just went through the same thing and your post made me feel like Im not alone. There are ppl who just want to feel superior somehow by invalidating someone else online I guess. I value your post and Im so glad I came across it. I was hating ppl and hating myself too. I know just how you feel
s_28_38,"I've been in the same boat for a year now. Daily diarreah, bloating, pains, discomfort and all that good stuff. I have bad appetite most of the days and feel nauseous after eating basically anything. I'm hoping my life gets better once I have less stress"
s_2449_127,Everything I do makes me anxious. Trying to improve my relationships gets me obsessively anxious and ultimately depressed. I just lost hope things will get better. It's a fucking lie.
s_1609_616,Did anyone else read that as hashtag one? I'm ashamed of myself...
s_2392_58,"I haven't tried acupuncture yet but I did do some research into it as I was wondering if the expense could be justified. I wrote what I found out about it here:
<URL>
I won't be trying it just yet but there isn't much you can do with a stubborn problem other that to experiment. Your sleep pattern sounds a little like mine in that I would get up to 3-4 nights of half-reasonable sleep in a row and then it would suddenly drop out for no apparent reason. I had recently stopped taking Amitriptylene (Elavil) and things got a lot worse. I then restarted the Elavil along with magnesium which I started taking about 3 weeks ago. My sleep pattern hasn't improved much but my mood is far better and I can cope on the sleep I get. I think that the main thing that is working is the magnesium as I never felt so alert on just Elavil. If you haven't tried it then Magnesium may be worth a shot. Use either Magnesium Citrate or Taurate an hour before bed for a couple of weeks. Any extra Mg will pass out through the kidneys so as long as they are functioning OK there shouldn't be a problem. 60 capsules cost about £10 on Amazon so it is an easy and cheap option to try. I am not sure it will work with PTSD but you gotta keep trying things. I think that Mg works mostly for depression of which a secondary symptom is insomnia. I assume you have spent time with a psychologist/counsellor to work through the PTSD issues, but if not then maybe that is worth a shot as well. Good luck with the acupuncture, I hope it works for you and I would be interested in hearing the result."
s_1404_870,"Did my online friend suicide? I met her on reddit weeks ago and we talked on instagram. She never posted something about suicide but she did post inside some of the suicide subreddits. She is very lonely and I became her friend. The last week we didnt talk much and one night when I was about to sleep she texted me and I was tired so I just said goodnight and then I went to sleep. Later I texted her but she hasn't shown any more signs of being online. Not on reddit, not on instagram. Do you guys think she suicided without telling me? I feel so guilty and worried"
s_1601_419,"I like to blame my personality disorder, but honestly I have zero social skills, I am not interesting, and I am terrified of people."
s_1749_905,"Not entirely the most extreme pain I have been in but the most unbearable has been the last 9 months or so. I have a bunch of chronic pain conditions that I have had my whole life but it wasn't until last year that it got bad. I had to leave my job and my home with my boyfriend and dog to go 2000 miles for treatment. I may be here for a year or however long it takes to get disability. Some days I can do shit but other days I can't even put a shirt on because the movement is too painful. I am a 23 year old female and I look healthy so my pain gets downplayed by lots of people including doctors. I have a connective tissue disorder so my tendons and ligaments don't really do their jobs. Which means my muscles are extra strained and my joints are really bad. I basically feel like I got hit by a car the day before. I have osteoarthritis, POTS, CRPS,TMJ, and autonomic dysfunction, among other things. So when I stand up I get dizzy and lose my vision for a minute. I get fevers all the time because my body can't regulate temperature as well as some other things that should happen automatically. Even trying to pee is difficult. None of my body doesn't hurt. Even my skin and nail beds. Basically everything I do is significantly more difficult to do than it is for most people. Sometimes I can't stay awake, other times I can't sleep. Even my low pain days I have no energy. It's not necessarily the worst pain, but the fact that it is every day makes it absolutely unbearable. The toll it has taken on my mental health is just as big of an issue. I went insane for a while before I got antidepressants. Even with them I'm not great. I basically don't get to take part in my life. So yeah this is by far the worst pain I have had to deal with."
s_586_904,"I think I might have insomnia if not pretty close. I have not to good sleeping hours do to thoughts, stress, in other words emotions and also night time is the only time of day were it's peace and quite so I tend to take a hour or so of that in... I have a hard time falling asleep at times and I really have a hard time staying asleep, I can't tell you how many times I could wake up in just one night! I've also notice just like in September, I've not felt like 100% myself for little over a week, I have had random bouts of being sad or down, my mind goes blank, I feel tired or get tired after certain situations, I have felt hungrier lately, I've been teary eyed a few times, feeling like I need to just cry but can't, I've been having a hard time with motivation that's why it's taking so long for me to finish bringing Your Reality up to 105 tempo on my guitar and I should have done had it down by now... It's not like it's oh this is hard I'm not gonna do it, but I just can't bring myself to pick up my guitar and when I do it's no longer then 3 minutes at most. I was like this back in September and when October came around it was like I was fine but some of November and now I have felt like this again. I don't really know what else to say? I don't feel comfortable sharing any of these but here I am. Oh I guess on a good note one of my favorite artist Jason Aldean just came out with a new album called Macon and it's amazing! Oh and Our Castle Walls I got up and running again, I just started from the beginning and just got back up to were I was."
s_427_129,Well now I'm crying.
s_2815_1455,"Little Cows About ten years ago, I dated a masseuse named Valerie. Well, masseuse in training. She was passionate and enthusiastic and she practiced as frequently as she could. That meant I got a ton of free massages. Obviously, since we were a couple, those massages would escalate and turn into that usual thing couples do, but it was only after she felt shed gotten in a good practice session. After one of our, ahem, sessions, Val looked a little confused but also relieved. I asked her what was up. She told me the sores she had on the inside of her mouth didnt hurt anymore. Wed talked about those things before. She said they werent contagious, thankfully, but shed had to endure them for most of her life and they were intensely painful; sometimes even debilitatingly so. Doctors prescribed an ointment for her to put on them when the outbreaks occurred, but they barely took the edge off. Plus, she was deeply attached to the ideas of natural healing and homeopathy and all that, so she very, very rarely used the medication. But that night, for the first time in a while, I could tell she wasnt powering through her pain. She genuinely felt good and had no idea why. Her pain returned a few hours later. As always, she did her best to ignore it. Fast forward a couple days - another massage, another occasion for sexy times. Midway through, she stopped kissing me and exclaimed, thats it! I didnt know what she was talking about. She rolled off me and stuck her finger in my mouth. Not really sure what the hell was going on, I just sat up on the bed and let her do whatever she was doing. She pulled her wet finger from my mouth and stuck it in her own. I saw her rubbing the inside of her cheek. Her face brightened and she informed me, with complete certainty, that my saliva was taking away her pain. I laughed and said something encouraging despite thinking she was nuts. Then she hopped back on me and I completely forgot everything shed said. The next day, I was lying face down on her massage table. She was doing her usual, outstanding work while I stared down at the floor through that little padded hole where ones face goes. Without any warning, there was a blinding pain in my head. I passed out. I have no idea how long I was unconscious. When I came to, I tried to get up, but I was completely immobilized. I couldnt turn my head or lift my arms. It felt like I was taped to the table. Not only that, but there was something metal in my mouth. I couldnt close my jaw or even dislodge the thing with my tongue. I yelled around it. Valerie, whod apparently been standing next to me, simply said, shhhhhh. I saw her hand and arm appear in front of my down-turned face. She held a small, glass baking dish, which she placed on the floor under my mouth. Im sorry if the speculum is uncomfortable, she said. At the mention of the word, I gagged. A thin column of saliva drooled from my gaping maw and landed inside the glass container. She reached under and gathered a dollop of the fluid onto her fingertip. Her hand disappeared from my field of view, but I knew where it was going. I heard her moan with relief. Im not sure how long Ill keep you here, she informed me. But dont be loud. In response, I yelled. A hideously sharp pain erupted from my lower back, right around my left kidney. Thats a 3 inch long pin, Valerie said. Please dont scream anymore. I hate hurting people. As the hours went by, the bottom of the pan grew slick with a cloudy puddle of my saliva. I heard Valerie walking around the house, doing laundry, washing dishes; basic, everyday activity. The clatter of pots and pans told me it was almost dinner time. I was ravenous; I estimated itd been almost 24 hours since Id had any food. Glorious aromas wafted from the kitchen as she cooked. My salivary glands went into overdrive and I drizzled their secretions into the waiting container. I heard Val walk in and she placed a plate piled high with spaghetti carbonara and what appeared to be a pork chop directly next to the collection pan. My mouth oozed. You cant have this, she whispered in my ear. But feel free to enjoy the smell. She walked away and turned on the TV. The room filled with sitcom banalities as my body leaked its desire for the meal into the waiting dish. I wanted to cry. At some point, I fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning, the plate of food was gone. The house was quiet. I assumed Val had gone to class. I gargled out a weak yell, but theres no way anyone wouldve heard it. I was so incredibly thirsty. The smell from the collected saliva was absolutely horrendous. I could see particulate matter dotting the glass bottom; probably old food that had detached from between my teeth. My mouth felt terribly dry. Saliva still leaked from the glands, but it was thick, almost like corn syrup. The color was milky gray. When it hit the stuff that was already in the pan, it separated like salad dressing. Oily liquid swirled to the top. I couldnt believe how much Id produced over the last couple days. The sound of the front door opening heralded the return of Valerie. She walked over, putting her sneakers in my narrow view. I felt her scratch the top of my head. You doing okay?, she asked, sounding genuinely concerned. I muttered something obscene from around the speculum. She bent down and picked up the pan. Saliva sloshed thickly against the sides. Im going to let you go today, Val informed me. I choked out a sigh of relief. I saw a knife for a second and was certain she was about to cut my throat. Instead, she sliced through the duct tape that was holding my head to the table. I craned my neck upward and tried to shake out the awful muscle cramps. In front of me, I watched Val carefully pour some of the accumulated spit into a glass. She brought it to her lips and took a tiny sip. I almost threw up. She didnt swallow right away. I could see her swishing it around her mouth and aerating it as if she were a disgusting sommelier sampling a fine Brunello. She smiled at me as she swallowed. Valerie reached into her purse and pulled out a small handgun. Of course she had a fucking gun. I didnt move. She calmly told me she was about to cut me loose but if I ran before she could talk to me, Id get shot. She cut the tape away. I was suddenly self-conscious as the smell of my old spit was replaced by the ammonia odor of when Id pissed myself those two times. Dont worry about it, she whispered. After everything was cut away, she apologized in advance before pulling the tape off my head to unsecure the speculum still violating my mouth. Chunks of hair came with the tape and I winced. I let the metal instrument drop to the ground. My jaw felt like itd been pummelled by a prize fighter. I stood up and Val pointed the gun at my chest. I stretched, slowly, then sat back down. She took another small sip before she spoke. When you leave, I know youre going to call the police. And I know Ill get arrested. But I just want you to know how much I appreciate you for helping me. I didnt say anything. She was nuts. She gulped down the rest of the cold saliva and put the glass on the coffee table. The pan was still 75% full. You can go, she told me. I grabbed my car keys from the table and left. As soon as I closed the door to her apartment, I sprinted as quickly as my cramped legs would allow, got into the car, and drove away. As I went home, I called 911 and did my best to explain what happened. They said theyd stop by her place and see what was going on, then theyd visit me at home. Sure enough, a few hours later, the police visited my apartment. They told me Valerie was dead. Self-inflicted gunshot wound. Shed left a note, but all it said was, youll understand soon enough. A year later, I started getting sores in my mouth. The pain was indescribable. Theyd last for a couple days before bursting. Theyd eventually heal, but two weeks later theyd just reappear. I was missing work because I couldnt even breathe through my mouth without searing agony. The doctors gave me some awful-tasting ointment to put on them, but it might as well have been water. Nothing helped. I didnt want to, but I started sleeping around. Men, women, it didnt matter. Partner after partner crossed my bed. Finally, I found one. Then another. Then another. Seven years later, theyre up to a gallon of production per day. The flavor took some getting used to, but hey, the taste of medicine doesnt matter much when it actually works. The trick, I learned, was to keep my producers hydrated and fed just enough so the quality doesnt drop off. Early on, my little cows (thats what I call them) used to be pretty boisterous in the mornings when I went to collect their milk, but theyve calmed down over the years. I just hope they know how much I appreciate them. Deep down, I bet they do. [Unsettling Stories](<URL>), [FB](<URL>)"
s_858_145,"I also just want to add, don't be embarrassed of your ADHD. I was also diagnosed with depression, which I believe was primarily caused by my ADHD. With my ADHD, I felt like I couldn't do anything. It made me feel like such a failure. Like I was constantly letting people down and could never accomplish anything that I needed to. It's a terrible fucking feeling to go through life feeling like a failure. Especially when it's something that you can't control. Before I went to the doctor I self treated with anything I could get my hands on. Which just made aspects of my life worse. You don't deserve to feel like that. You're ADHD is part of who you are just as much as your eye or hair color. So don't be embarrassed by it. With that said though, it doesn't have to be such a debilitating burden all the time. Untreated ADHD is one of the hardest disorders to live with. I'll repeat myself one last time, it doesn't have to be a burden, but you can't manage it on your own. If you haven't, go to the doctor. Get professional help. Getting medicine and help for me was a life saver. It absolutely changed my life."
s_2688_1086,"Are you still attracted to men you dated or hooked up with years ago? I don't know if this is more of a guy thing or what, but I'm still as attracted to every girl I've been with as I was when we were together. Barring a noticeable physical change, the attraction doesn't really fade. Do women feel the same way?"
s_2525_20,I fucking hate myself.
s_2100_160,"I'm worried about being a finance major I chose finance as my major largely because I didn't much like my other options. I genuinely love theology, art, psychology, and linguistics, but there's no real guaranteed, well-paying jobs in those fields. So what fields do offer those jobs? Medicine, mathematics, physics, engineering, IT, and finally, finance. I took classes in high school in each of those other fields and didn't really enjoy them except for economics and such, so I picked finance. Now I've heard finance is a very difficult field to get a job in. I don't know how to make myself more valuable, I guess, for a company to want to hire me eventually. I'm 19 and I'm curled up in my bed like a child. I'm not set to take any actual finance courses until after the coming semester. I'm worried for the future. What can I do to help prepare myself for a career in finance? Are there any certificates I could get online this summer? I thought about posting this in /r/finance but that sub seems to be mostly made up of news articles and such, not whiny questions from confused students."
s_2993_443,"I need to try that. My brain is so fucked it's so hard to do anything or focus for long. I did shrooms once since i using and it wasn't bad, I cried allot but it wasn't all bad crying. I'm not sure if I did them alone how I would feel though lol. I don't think I really wanna get on the subs, idk I don't like none of this shit. I was reading the subs forum and it def sounds like still being on drugs. Idk I just don't know what to do. People have used way longer than me and idk how they did it or how they function. Sure my depression don't help. I was just looking at subs to get off drugs and not have to go get methadone everyday and before when I was on it it didn't do much if anything. Oh well, thanks much and stay safe"
s_7_265,"On the other hand, not always. I have major depression, and the only real symptom is an intense feeling of heartbreak and sadness. My sleep schedule, diet, and sex drive are not effected."
s_1749_931,I generally do wake up exhausted. I usually just get six hours of poor sleep every night.
s_1404_449,"Had a very strange dream where I felt ""infinite pleasure"" In real life I am depressed and lonely and I never enjoy anything. So I had this dream and the only thing I remember is that there was a BEAR in my living room and I approached the bear and it hugged me and as soon as he started hugging me, I felt infinite pleasure. It's indescribable. Any explanation for this strange dream?"
s_186_100,"Even though I have no children, no wife, etc. A lot of what you said here really hits some points I've been noticing lately with myself. You are very lucky to have your husband to talk to about these things. No one I know (not getting paid for it at least) wants to hear these things, and it's just horrible in both counts to not have anyone....and trying to confide and seeing they don't get it or don't want to hear these things. It's........like a weight you can't put down and only gets heavier each time you are denied the ability to talk about it for me. Made myself cry saying this."
s_2396_10,"I don't feel like I am being punished. I'm just very, very disappointed and disillusioned."
s_1049_86,I wanna kill myself after reading this
s_2035_597,"Ive taken this medication and was not interested in sex and also unable to orgasm, which made me even less interested in sex. Is he affectionate in other ways like kissing, holding, telling you how he feels about you?"
s_384_11,"My diet now consists mostly of whole foods, I really try to limit processed foods(minus protein shakes and bars), but its nearly impossible to avoid all together. I eat a lot of chicken and turkey, broccoli, spinach salads and potatoes. Sounds pretty boring but changing up how you cook everything helps! Also season EVERYTHING it makes eating much more enjoyable. I drink a protein shake every morning, usually with half an english muffin. It has definitely taken some getting used to, I would recommend baby steps! Eat like usual, but put more veggies on your plate. Drink water instead of pop. Crystal light and Mio really helped me start drinking water. Herbal tea and water are all I drink. I aim to get 3-5L of water per day. It gets easier as you continue, and making tiny changes is sooooooo much easier than completely changing overnight. I didn't exercise for the first year and I dropped 100lbs. This summer I started doing yoga and HIIT cardio on the elliptical (increasing the resistance for short periods of time). I started doing yoga, body weight exercises and lifting free weights as well. I work out at home, no gym membership! Youtube is AWESOME for workout ideas. Christina Carlyle, Blogilates, Yoga with Adrienne are all great channels to check out! I've recently started running and I'm training for my first 5K coming up! I like keeping my workouts varied, I get bored easily. I aim to workout for at least 30mins 4-6 times a week. I find things I enjoy and do those! I never stick with exercise that I hate. Excess skin is a thing. Its not fun, but it's definitely better than having the fat! My whole body is a mess tbh. But I would take this saggy body over my old body ANY DAY. I'm looking to have surgery in the next year hopefully, and I'll probably need several. But I think everyone deserves to be happy with their body and if surgery is the only way, I'm game. I started losing gradually around April of 2015. January 2016 I was around 290. That's about when I started getting serious. By April 2016 I was 250 and have lost the last 60 since then. So just under two years I suppose! Sorry this is so long. I hope it helps! Please PM if you want more info! Always happy to help! Good luck, I believe in you!!! :)"
s_170_108,"Struggling with controlling craving, just caved in I'm having the hardest time with cravings after eating well all day. I've been logging everything I eat and following my macros on MFP. Today at lunch I even got a free chocolate chip cookie the size of my hand, and I resisted eating it and ate only my planned meal. Later in the afternoon I started to break down and went to find the cookie where I left it. Luckily my coworker threw it away, preventing me from eating it. But as soon as I got home from work, the hunt began. I found some peanut butter chocolate leftover from Christmas and even ate some chocolate sprinkles out of desperation. All the while reading articles online about how to overcome sugar and carb addictions. I didn't put the candy down, I finished every bite while reading about portion control and overcoming cravings. I'm afraid of logging what I just did to find out how much I threw off my day. It would have been my best day this week, but I completely screwed it up. What can I do to control and overcome these intense cravings?"
s_2625_148,"I am irritated, yes. I feel like either I'm not communicating my opinion properly or you guys are interpreting my statement wrong. It's aggravating because it's not face to face contact, and so when someone disagrees you know that they disagree but not why. You can't have an actual argument with someone. Not that I'm even arguing anything...it's ridiculous. I'm shocked people don't experience any kind of physical or emotional trauma from a miscarriage or an abortion, but you can bet if I knew someone who went through it or experienced I would be extremely concerned."
s_1900_1021,"Never buy a mattress off of Craigslist - 2 [Part 1](<URL>) \ [Related](<URL>)
I added this to the first post but Ill put it here as well. It is the note and picture the only thing I have that the police didnt take [proof](<URL>)
So like I said in my first post I unblocked Brians number and tried to get in touch with him again but it said it was disconnected. Of course I gave the number to the police to try and track but I have yet to hear any news from them, which is incredibly discouraging. They say you only have 48 hours to find a missing person and I am approaching that number very quickly. I cant I just cant lose my family. My wife is the sweetest, most loving and wonderful mother to our beautiful, vibrant daughter. I remember when she was born and sorry. I have been thinking a lot about that night. I guess it is the only thing pushing me on. * I have to find my family!* One of the comments mentioned checking my car for a tracking device. Dont know why I didnt think of it before so I went out last night before I went to work and after a few minutes of checking I did find something under the rear bumper, on my exhaust pipe. I dont know if it is a tracking device or what but I turned it in to the police on my way to work. Why didnt they think to check my car? Anyway I didnt really feel like working much. I was distracted and exhausted. My boss told me to take a few nights off, paid, to clear my head. I couldnt believe it, not because it is out of the ordinary but he is just a hardass most of the time I didnt think he had a soft spot on him. I took full advantage of it by heading back up to the storage site to see if I could find anything. Like I mentioned in my first post I work two jobs, one being warehouse stocking overnight and during the day I work for a home security company called Vivint installing and servicing home systems. One of the neat things we offer is a camera that you can access from anywhere in the world and watch a live stream. Most people use it as a nanny cam or to see what their pets do while they are gone but I had a great idea. Id set one up on the roof and then I could watch it from my work laptop to see if anyone is moving mattresses around. If I could get a visual on the guy we could catch him! So I headed up to the site and climbed up the backside of one of the buildings that had the humidity controlled units. According to the receptionist they only have 24 of these units and since they are selling a ton of mattresses I figured that is a unit they would need to have. There were cameras all over the place so I couldnt get a perfect angle or see the whole row of units but I was able to place it in such a way that I could see about two thirds of them. Not ideal but better than nothing. The camera is tiny so I wasnt worried about anyone finding it and I know it can run for over 6 months on a fresh battery. Since I dont have anywhere to sleep at home I decided Id just recline the seat in my car and try to snooze a little while keeping an eye on the footage. Now I know a lot of you are probably thinking There is no way Brian is ever coming back to that place. And while I agree with you, what else can I do? I have to have hope, to believe they are still alive and unhurt. It is the only thing keeping me going. I am sure you can understand that. I must have actually fallen asleep because a train horn startled me and I jerked up, knocking the laptop off of my lap. The train was moving pretty slowly, even slower than most around here and there was a van and a few cars waiting at the crossing. It took a moment to remember where I was and rub the sleep out of my eyes. It was 3AM. I rewound the footage in triple speed to see if anyone had shown up during the hour and a half that I was laying there and only twenty minutes before a 15-passenger van showed up just inside the frame of the camera. It was hard to tell but I am pretty sure it was the receptionist that was there the day we came to buy the mattress. Two guys were hauling mattresses out of the back of the van and into one of the units. I started to get excited. I found him! Then I got sick to my stomach. From inside of the unit came five women, most of them older but one was pretty young. I couldnt see their faces because of the distance from the camera but I could see that they were chained together and gagged with something. One of the guys gave something to the receptionist lady, most likely money, and they piled into the van and drove off. Wait, I thought, didnt I just see a van? I looked up and the train was gone, the cars that were waiting now far off in the distance. I turned on my car and took off after the fading tail-lights, praying Id be able to catch up and hope they hadnt already turned off somewhere. I grabbed my phone and called the police, telling them everything that transpired and where I was/direction I was heading. They told me to pull over and to stop following but screw that - I floored it even more and tried to close the distance. Pretty soon I heard sirens from several different directions but I had lost sight of the van, or maybe never had sight of it. When I finally caught up to the taillights I was chasing they belonged to a Corolla or something. About that time my phone went off. It was the police, they had found the van! I drove my way over, only a few blocks east of where I was, hoping for good news. When I got there they had two men in cuffs in the back of a squad car which left soon after. Five women were laying on gurneys being tended to by medical staff, but none were my wife or daughter. I was relieved, happy, thankful that they were safe, but also devastated. Where was my family? After interrogation or whatever of the men and the women that were saved it was determined that they would have been sold as slaves human trafficking. The police are still looking for my family, of course, but they arent acting very positive about the whole thing. I just left my day job because my boss caught me still watching footage of the unit and told me to just go home. I know it sounds stupid but what else can I do? I cant eat or sleep or even think without feeling the need to vomit. My family, slaves. Sold to some freak that will do God knows what to them? My eleven month old daughter. So beautiful, so innocent. Daddy is going to find you! ----------------
**UPDATE**
So far no one has come back to that unit other than police. I watched them drag everything out, sick to my stomach. I watched their cars drive off full of evidence. Everyone seems to have vanished that was connected to this aside from the two guys that were arrested. They havent given up any information from what the station is telling me. I dont know why but I started to browse Craigslist again to see if any new ads were put up similar to the one I had responded to. I didnt find anything but I did remember a few stories Id heard about the Deep Web/Dark Web and how human trafficking goes down on those sites. I dove head first into that awful area of cyberspace trying to find anything that could help me find my family. The things I found only made me that much sicker and more worried about my family. Who could do such things to fellow human beings? I know we are in a sick, confused world but oh I will just stop there. I dont want to upset anyone by the things I saw. After an hour of searching I was about to give up when I found something hosted by BMK. I had seen it before and passed it by but looking at it again jogged my memory. The only reason it stood out to me at all is because of the CL ad. Brian had called himself the Mattress King. It is a pretty standard claim, to be fair, but I didnt think I could pass up an opportunity even if it wasnt him. I responded to it with an old e-mail I hadnt used since probably high school and got a response almost immediately. $5000 cash for a female. $4000 for a male. Discounts for age. An address to meet at and a time. When I plugged the address in I was surprised to see how close it was to the storage facility. One of your comments was right, they kept operations close. Obviously I dont have the cash but I have a gun. What mid-westerner doesnt? I am on my way right now. I dont want to be late. ----------
**FINAL UPDATE**
So as I said I like being early and I figured my old pal Brian would be late to this arrangement. I got there an hour ahead of time to scope out the place and find a good spot to take him out. I found a nice loft where I could overlook the big, open factory floor. I parked my car a ways away at a thrift store parking lot and walked to it with a guitar case - hiding my .22. I guessed they would probably have a few people out front waiting for me to come in and Brian inside with the lineup of women. Fortunately I guessed correctly. A total of six armed people showed up, four taking position somewhere outside. Brian and the receptionist stood inside with twenty women. My heart skipped a beat when I saw my wife among them. I almost cried out right then and there but I stifled it in time. I took careful aim and busted Brian's knee with the first shot. I'm assuming he went into shock because he dropped and laid there moaning for the entirety of my visit. My next shot took out the receptionist as she ran. The girls started screaming right away, obviously not knowing what was going on. A guy from outside came in but I was already back outside on my way down. I have never been happier than right then about my grandad forcing me to go hunting every year and ""earn my dinner"". It was paying off! It was then that I called the police. I waited until sirens were nearing before I shot the next two guards in the leg. Suffer for your sins. I made my way inside and used one of the guards handguns to finish Brian and the other guy with him after I let him see my face. I don't think my wife even noticed me until I put my hand on her face. I'm not sure where the last one ran off to but he didn't bother us as I unlocked the women and hugged my wife. * Where's my baby? Is she ok?* She just shook her head. We cried, oblivious to the police filtering in."
s_1404_1214,Lol you are assuming I mostly care about sex. I dont care about sex actually. stop assuming
s_1738_231,Eating a nice meal..I'm a glutton for food. I just love to eat because it gives me a temporary high that makes me feel good for at least a short time. I don't like to be too full though so that's why I don't overeat.
s_697_192,"Today has been an off day.. So today I plugged my morphine as usual, throughout the day. But all day Ive only felt nauseous and extremely sleepy. I didnt get very much sleep last night as I dont most every night. I Think thats why Im so sleepy. But Ive only felt like the side effects from my high but I havent felt my actual high which is extremely frustrating and strange. Im not sure why, I feel like Im chasing a high that doesnt exist but it obviously does exist because I feel it daily. Im curious to know if any of my fellow opiate users have experienced off days like this or if its just me. I havent plugged more than usual and Im not over doing it just to achieve the high cause then I fear Ill just feel more sick and actually puke. Today has just been a really off day for me and Im curious to know if anyone has any sort of explanation for this based on experience or any advice."
s_2408_61,"Actually, I feel I have to struggle to achieve many things that people take for granted every day, like getting out of bed, taking a shower, going to work... the list goes on. I definitely hate myself, I feel I am a failure and a disgrace and the world is better off without me."
s_2748_295,"Dude I think I'm bipolar. I feel sad from time to time. Have you seen silver linings playbook?! My (insert distant acquaintance here) is bipolar. * Nervous look
Are you like, happy one second then crazy the next? (-_- I'm about to be.) Do you take lithium? Are you on meds?"
s_71_25,You're not alone. I feel like a complete idiot often.
s_891_398,"Deleted for being non-horror Yesterday started like any other day. I woke up, took a shower, and got dressed before telling my wife goodbye and headed off to work. My wife always thought I worked as a financial consultant. Frankly, I dont think she ever really cared what I did, but that worked out even better for me. You see, I have a unique job. I am a contract killer, but I only deal with suicidal people finish the job. Of course, I make them send me a copy of their id and three photos holding up specific items to prove they are who they are. The job came with two main perks. 1) Job security: I never ran out of clientele. Word spreads. They never knew who I was, but I made it an easy process for the people that needed my services. 2) A semi-clear conscience: Killing anyone is a terrible thing. Suicide is never the answer, but in my opinion, if someone goes through that much work to kill themselves they are going to find another way anyways. Plus, they have the option of picking when and where their death will take place. I always make sure they have a quick and painless death. I had one man to take care of today. His name was Matthew Johnson. His wife left him and took their kids with her. His business was failing. He was down to his last 20k. Matthew couldnt even pay all of his employees by the end of this month. Thats why he contacted me. I charged him the regular rate of 15k. Once I received the payment from him I gave him the call to alert him that he only had 10 minutes to live. I was sitting on a hill about 300 yards away from the entrance to his company. Nine minutes later, he walked out. I looked through my scope and aimed at the middle of his head. My phone vibrated, but I ignored it and started to steady my breath. I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger right as I started to exhale. Matthews body became limp. The back of his head sprayed blood all over the entrance door and he fell over. I took apart my sniper and put it back in my briefcase before running into the woods. I ran the three-mile distance to get to the other side of the woods and towards the shopping mall I parked at. When I got to my car I put my briefcase in my trunk and grabbed the spare t-shirt from the back seat of my car. I quickly changed into the fresh shirt before walking into the mall. It was about 45 minutes past 12 so I walked into the mall and walked to the food court to pick up some lunch. When I got my medium pizza and large coke I took my seat and checked my business phone. It was from a number I recognized the minute I saw it. It was my wifes phone number. I opened the message and read the message before dropping the phone on the table. She needed my services. I wanted to text back, but I didnt know how to respond back to
*Hello. My name is Amber Jefferson. I need your help. I dont have anything to live for anymore. My husband has been getting more and more distant with me. My friends have stopped talking to me. Both of my parents are dead. I was fired from my job, and I do not have any reason to keep living.* After thinking while I finished my pizza I decided to text her back. I asked, Can you send me a photo of your id? Three minutes later, I received a photo of her id from her number. After I checked the id I sent her another text asking, Can you send me 3 separate photos. The first one of you holding a can of Mello Yello, the next photo of you holding a bag of sour cream and onion flavored sunflower seeds and the last photo of you and your husband. I received two photos from you within 7 minutes. After I received the photo of her holding a can of Mello Yello and a bag of Sour Cream and Onion Sunflower seeds she sent me a message saying that she would be able to send me the last photo tonight. I came home at 8 pm that night. When I got home, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sighed before I put up the can of Mello Yello and bag of sunflower seeds. I walked up to my room and got comfortable in the bed. I turned on the tv and started to relax when I received a picture. It was a photo of my wife lying next to me in bed. There is the last photo messaged right after the photo. I kept the phone pressed towards my stomach in case she managed to see. After I saw the photo I turned off both of my phones and fell asleep. This morning, I woke up and knew that today was going to be rough. I turned on my business phone and instantly received a text from my wife. *I will be standing in front of the address written on my id. You know how to get rid of me. Do it at precisely 12:04 pm.* I checked the time and jumped out of bed when I realized it was 11:58 am. I sent her a text that said, Okay. Free of charge. When I ran out to the living room I greeted my wife the same way I did for the past 2 years. I kissed the only photo I had of her. The photo I took of her the day before she shot herself on our front lawn. With a sigh, I took the photo off of my wall and gave it a final kiss before taking the photo out of the frame and ripping it up. After I tore it up i threw it into my fireplace and watched it become smoke. While I wiped away a couple of tears from my eyes I received another text from my wife. I opened up the text. It simply said two words. Two final words. [""Thank You] (<URL>)."""
s_2953_651,"OP reads in his girlfriend's diary that she is still in love with her ex boyfriend. Spoiler: gt;!Happy update! lt; [ORIGINAL](<URL>) by [u/throwawayheart55](<URL>) My SO is still in love with her ex and doesn't know I know Sorry if my thoughts seem disjointed, I'm just trying to get words and thoughts out. My (27M) SO (27F) and I have been together nearly 7 years and now live together. She's had partners before me, and I had some small high-school romances, but she's my first in a lot of ways. I adore her and especially love her smile, and the way her eyes crinkle when shes happy. I think she's the best thing that ever happened to me. We both come from rather rough backgrounds, and when I met her I was instantly head over heels for her, chiefly for her sense of humor, intelligence and compassion. It took longer I think, for her to fall for me (Not like I was trying very hard or going after her) because she'd gotten out of a bad breakup, but the more we saw each other and went places together the closer we got. Between then and now we've gotten our degrees, jobs, and a place together, and I've been saving to buy her a ring to propose with. I'm so proud of both us for the things we have achieved, and I know if it wasn't for her love and support I wouldn't have achieved much of anything. It's not a one-way street, I support her in everything she wants to do, and I tell her how I feel about her pretty regularly, and give her gifts just because I love to see her happy. There's just always been this little bit of insecurity in me, that I'm not good enough for her. Her breakup was so bad that she spent a long time in a really dark pit of feelings and it took her a lot of time and energy and effort to crawl out of it. From what she's told me, he wasn't abusive but was going through a really hard time and lashing out at her especially because I guess she was an easy target, and it got to be enough that she/her mental health couldn't take anymore and she broke it off. When we became serious and official, she was really honest with me about her past relationships (and I also shared about mine) and I loved that we were able to be open and honest with each other not just about that, but about everything. One of the things she told me was that her first ex (not dark hole guy but another guy, lets call him Brian) was the first person she felt really understood her, and that she found the love and sense of family she never got from her own in his, and that they broke up because she had picked up some bad behaviors and things from her messed up family and that she didn't realize that she was driving him away till they broke up. She said when she realized what she'd done it prompted a lot of thinking in her about the person she was and she wanted that to change, so she found a great therapist and since then has, from what she tells me, become an entirely different, healthier and happier person. I believe her 100% and I'm so proud of her. On the advice of her therapist, she keeps a diary/journal, and she writes in it regularly. I respect her privacy and thoughts, so I've never read it even when she offered to let me a few times, and I don't know where she puts it, and I'm not interested to know. This has never been a problem for me, even when I'd have the odd insecure moment regarding her past exes, because I know it's a me problem and that snooping through her things wouldn't solve anything. I come to her when I'm having some insecurity or I keep it to myself and remind myself that I'm worthy and that she loves me etc. and that keeps me right. The other day though, was her BFF's birthday and we were getting ready to head out to the restaurant where the party was being held. I'd gotten dressed pretty quickly and I was helping her with the zip of her dress in the bathroom while she applied her makeup when she asked me if I could grab the earrings she'd laid out on her desk for her, which is of course no problem. When I got to the desk though, I saw that right next to the earrings she'd left her diary open, I guess cause she'd been writing in it before getting ready (her desk/vanity table is in our room). I didn't mean to look but as I grabbed her earrings my eyes fell on a recent passage where she said something like (I'm paraphrasing here) ""God I still miss you B ...you showed me what it was like to have a family and I ruined it and you, the first and only person I've ever loved"" To be honest, my blood went cold reading that. I think partly because I knew I shouldn't have, and partly because to read what she said made me feel sick. All my insecurities over not being good enough for her, my fear that she was settling for me, all that came up at me in a rush that made me lightheaded, but I did my best to shove it down and get her the earrings so we could go. I felt it was my fault for looking so I deserved what I was feeling. She noticed right away that I wasn't entirely myself, kept feeling my forehead and saying I looked sick, that we didn't have to go, but I insisted I was fine and just a little nervous since this is our first big gathering since COVID hit, which I think she bought. Now I'm sitting here in a cold sweat, days after, while she's at work and wondering if she loves me at all or if she's truly settling for me because her heart's still with Brian. I don't know what to do or who to tell, or even if I should. I want to forget what I read. How do I forget? What do I do? TL;DR: Accidentally read SO's diary, she confesses that she still loves her Ex, am wrecked Edit: I'm sober now. Hungover a little to be honest. There's been some really good advice and perspectives in this thread and my DM's, and some less good. I'll be taking the good stuff and talking to her tonight when she gets home from work. Those of you who're pushing a redpill/incel agenda can stop. Regardless of how I'm feeling or will feel tonight, she's still a human being just like me, and deserves the same respect at least on that front. [ UPDATE](<URL>) **\[UPDATE\] My SO is still in love with her ex and doesn't know I know** I figured I might as well post an update since people have been dming and leaving comments about one...also the rules said I could only update after 48 hours so I hope this won't get deleted but here goes. [ Here's the original post](<URL>) First off I wanted to thank everyone who commented for taking the time to talk to me or leave their advice, I read everything and thought about what people said. I also want to thank [u/EclecticVictuals](<URL>) for their comment but also their DM's which were helpful when it came to deciding how I wanted to approach everything. Ok so to last night, when she got home from work I was waiting on the couch. I say waiting but I was just in my own head finalizing how I wanted to start a conversation and trying not to psych myself out, but I guess I still looked off because she stated feeling my forehead again and getting very concerned about me and that actually helped snap me out of it. I told her that I wasn't really sick, but that something had been really weighing on me and I needed to talk to her about it. She sat there and waited for me to start talking, which is something I do love about her, she never jumps to conclusions or starts overthinking like I tend to do, she just waits patiently and I appreciate that about her. I told her that when she asked me to get her earrings the other day, that they'd been on her desk by the open diary and I'd accidentally skimmed over some of it and read that passage, that I was sorry I'd done it cause I hadn't meant to, but I read what she said about Brian and it had been eating at me and magnified some of my insecurities and I wasn't accusing her of anything and I wasn't mad at all, but I wanted to tell her about it because she was the only person who could give me answers. She started looking really confused at some point, and told me to wait there and went and got her diary from wherever it was and then sat back down next to me and flipped until she got to a page and asked me if that particular page is what I saw, and I looked and said yes, and I won't lie seeing those words again made me feel queasy so I only gave it a brief look to confirm. When I said yes her face got all flushed and she looked so embarrassed and mortified and I asked her if she'd left it out for me to read, was there something she wanted to tell me that she felt she couldn't? She shook her head no and said that she'd been writing in it and lost track of time so when I'd come in and told her we should start getting ready she just got up and left it and didn't feel the need to hide anything from me, but that the pages must have settled on an earlier entry, and then she flipped to the most recent one which I saw was dated for the 3rd. Then she flipped back to the passage and showed me the date and it was from the beginning of the year. She said her and her therapist had been working on addressing the guilt she still held over some of her past actions, especially regarding Brian and their breakup, that her therapist had her write out statements of things she'd once felt for him at the time and then process through it as she thinks and feels now, as a healthier adult and not as the broken teen (her words) she once was. She suggested we read the whole entry together and I accepted so we read through it, and that's really what it was. That at the time of their break up she didn't think she could love someone else the way she loved him, that at that point in her life he'd been the first and only person she'd ever loved and she didn't want to let him go which is why she tried for a long time to win him back. That she'd done a lot of personal growth since then, and met me and built a life with me and how happy she was. How much she loves me and knows what the word really means now, and how sometimes she's still a little scared that she'll drive me away too. ( And some more stuff about me but you guys don't need to hear that lol). I won't lie, by the end we were both crying. After that we cuddled on the couch for awhile, and she suggested I come with her to her next therapy session cause she thinks it might do me some good, and I agreed. She's also told me where she keeps her diary, even though I said I didn't need to know, but she said she trusts me completely and I'm not the kind of person to look through her things out of jealousy or against her wishes, which is true, and that was the reason why she felt ok leaving the diary out, though she didn't count on the pages settling back and sending me spiraling. She said that how she used to feel for Brian was how a 15-16yr old who never had anyone actually truly care about them felt, but that she's moved beyond that chapter of her life and grown from it and I'm ""the only person \[she\] want\[s\] to spend the rest of \[her\] life with"" and I believe her. She's eating dinner across from me as I type this. Things feel so much better, and I'm glad that the commenters who said she was still in love with him are wrong. I'm happy that we've come out of this stronger, I'm happy I didn't do anything impulsive. I'm just happy. Thanks Reddit. [ u/Chantottie](<URL>), you nailed it. Tl;dr: She's not in love with him, it was a therapy exercise to work past guilt. We're solid and stronger and going to therapy together and I'm still getting her a ring One last thing I wanted to address though. In my first post a lot of people thought that she was setting me up to see it by leaving her earrings nearby, but her desk is also a vanity table, where she keeps jewelry. She said she pulled the earrings out but forgot to take them with her to the bathroom. No setup guys."
s_780_139,"""How much longer will your studies take?"" I know I'm in college longer than I should be, so please stop reminding me and making me feel like a total failure."
s_549_69,"I don't understand why I'm living I'm just tired. Today, as I was driving my car, I was by the lake and just wanted to drive in it. I have no clue why I didn't. Maybe I'm a coward. There are people who love me, I don't know why. Maybe because they've never seen me at my lowest, or even low. Suicide sounds so peaceful, for me at least. And if there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that it's only my pain that I'm feeling now. But even as I'm thinking of killing myself, I know I won't do it. I just like to dwell for a bit in the thought of a final peace. I can go rest my face on the grill to distract myself, or cut off one finger. But I won't do that either, and I don't know why. Maybe I don't want my family to go through all that drama. Maybe I don't want to disappoint them. But then, am I really giving them joy if it's all a lie and I curl up into my blanket and cry the night away as soon as I turn around? I don't know. I read the posts on here a lot. You guys are brave, both the ones that find a reason to live on and the ones that don't. I feel like a coward...just hanging on to a rope of nothing because I don't know to do anything else."
s_586_586,"Thank you, I hope so but I usually don't sleep well."
s_2402_815,Obvious suicide for me.
s_2050_319,"I'm not crying, i am trying to hold back."
s_1488_230,"I appreciate your kind words! I feel exactly how you feel. If good news happens, or something goes as planned, it feels too good to be true. Im stuck in an endless cycle of hate. I hate everything and everyone. Then at the same time I hope Im liked. You cant be liked when your energy is so negative, right? But, I feel like I cant control it. Im just so unhappy. It radiates from me. Im tired of being sad all the time, and feeling like Im alone in everything that I do. Even in a room full of people trying to actively converse with me I feel alone. I cry throughout random parts of my day, especially in the car on my way to anywhere. I cry at night. I cry in the shower. Just like you I question if things will ever be better. How are other people happy in this life? The way this world is, the fighting, politics, just so much hatred everywhere! Really makes me feel as if I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. You are so young, and Im so sorry you have to feel this way too. I do the exact same thing you do: lay on my bed and just stare at the ceiling. So many thoughts racing in my mind. I was diagnosed with OCD as well last year. I obsessively think about *everything* repeatedly. I hate it SO much. I wish I had something bright to end my comment with, but I dont. I truly am sorry you have to go through this at such a young age. I hope it gets better for you!"
s_2301_443,I challenge anyone to not read this in Neil Oliver's voice. I am now considerably more relaxed.
s_267_1176,"I can't decide what I want to do anymore... Okay so I'm 15 and I've wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember. My twin brother has cerebal pulsey (I think that's how you spell it) and slight autism. He can walk and talk and do everything everyone else can do to some degree but when we were young he was in the hospital for an operation and I knew after that, that I wanted to be a doctor. Anyway I've been well on track. You know highest grades in all my classes and getting great reports but I don't think I'm up to it. I've always been a gamer, seriously I got the original xbox when I was 5 and before that I had the ps2 anyway I've always been able to balance school and gaming but now I find myself on my xbox and writing fanfictions more than anything. My grades have started slipping and I know if I stopped gaming I could probably get them back but I don't want to stop completely. Also I have pretty severe asthma so I miss quite alot of school during the winter when it gets bad which makes catching up hard aswell. I still want to be a doctor but even if I put in the work I don't think I could make it so I would rather focus on something else and pass rather than try for years and fail. I love writing and I love history. I've considered becoming a history teacher but I don't know if I would enjoy teaching the same stuff over and over again for years. So I thought about becoming a writer but I'm not sure if I would like to write a book or work for a company or anything else. I've started stressing because I don't know what my future will hold and to be honest I'm scared I'm going to mess up and get a crappy job. Does anyone have any ideas on what I could do? I want to do something that makes me happy but I don't know what that is yet."
s_3007_738,"More depressed, less suicidal Lately Ive been feeling very very bad, this is like my 5-6th year on and off depression, but sth different is happening now. I dont feel like killing myself, I just wanna get through this, but I cant do anything right now, no real enjoyment or fun, just going through stuff that makes me feel bad, and everything is making me feel bad. Im constantly annoyed and grumpy. But I dont wanna kill myself about it, I just want to get it over with. But this sucks. I guess I just needed to vent. My suicidal thoughts had been going up and up and up these past few years, so this was weird. But being down 24/7 is awful. But I know I NEED to be strong to get through it."
s_2565_11,"I have wished more than once to have never existed. That way no one will be sad you are gone, because you never were here in the first place. I can't tell you how much that really hits home, man. Also, I'm sorry about your grandma. May she rest in peace. My grandmother will mostly likely die soon, and I'm numb as well. I don't think you're a monster because you weren't sad. Most likely you repressed the pain, that's what I do. Everything is under a layer of numbness. I'm shy too, and depression has made me lose social confidence. I don't look at people in the eye anymore. Depression can fck up one's self esteem. I don't look forward to life either. All I see is suffering. All that said, I hope you see yourself as a strong rather than weak. To walk through hell everyday - that's strength. Also, from one depressed person to another, I hope you choose to keep going."
s_2593_451,"yeah, it would be better if I didn't feel like I want to kill myself everyday. I want to die so much"
s_427_110,"Second time ever, twice in three months. I'm feeling pretty proud of myself and grateful for the inspiration I've gotten from others."
s_2024_158,exactly why i want to kill myself now
s_1738_414,That's fine. I probably came across a little bit harsh with this post but I was pretty pissed off. I am a bit short tempered and I get really moody when it comes to shit like this. I just like to be able to focus without tech issues when I compose. That's all.
s_258_189,"I felt happy for the first time in years last week and now Im back to wanting a car to hit me Wtf is this? Im just too fucking tired. I felt happy and reality has settled itself in to remind me Ive had no friends in 9 years, will probably receive the most fucked up blood tests results ever for lupus because Ive had anorexia for a decade,will probably have early arthritis , dementia, and lupus thanks to starving myself for too fucking long . And yet I was happy last week and now I think there was nothing to be happy about at all because my life is objectively shit from whatever angle you choose to look at it from . No friends. Terribly damaged physical health at 26 (dont even know whats yet to come ). Regret for starving myself for wtf sick reason . One partner my whole life . Detached to the point of not even having a self anymore. Wtf is the point?"
s_899_67,"Lying....ok, because it is everyday someone posts on a forum like Reddit with the name Sialic Acid. Uncle Tom....OK. I know reddit skews younger, I think many in their 20s still haven't had a lot of experience doing things like dealing with all of the politics that come while working in places like institutions of higher learning, doing something like pitching a business plan, or pitching your idea for a new project to the board running your discovery program in an industry like biotech. You simply never win over people when you try to use blunt force. I've learned my lesson through many failures. What scientists are good at--science. What they're terrible at--politics (whether in academia, industry, or government) and policy making. If you want to convince people to vote for administrations with strong environmentally focused platforms, who are committed to funding institutions like the NIH, or who'll support things like stem cell research, then you need to convince the public using more finesse than what's going on in DC today. Example, if scientists are so concerned about this topic, why aren't they going out to Kansas, Nebraska, Ohio, etc. and doing simple things like town hall meetings to have friendly Q and A sessions on climate change? Describe to people in HARD and REAL ECONOMIC terms how climate change will affect their ability to farm corn and earn a living in the future. It's always the economy that will drive the vote."
s_2253_735,I moved from NC to Oregon. Best decision I've ever made.
s_1674_10,"Danny knew he had made a mistake in coming, but he took a seat nonetheless. All of the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting on his side of town seemed warm and welcoming. All of the people were friendly and knew him by name. There were hugs, handshakes, slaps on the back. The rooms were well lit with comfortable chairs. There were always freshly baked cookies or donuts. A recent falling out with his sponsor, Ralph, had caused Danny to choose to avoid some of his normal meetings, though. He had already been down to two meetings a week, which Ralph had so poignantly called him to the carpet on, so he didnt want to cut those out completely. He had been feeling antsy lately and probably needed to go to a few more. Never the type to ask for help, he was unwilling to admit it, though. Instead, he decided to try a few meetings on the other side of the tracks. The seedy part of town. Fucking Ralph. Youre only as sick as your secrets, he said. Danny had made a list of all those he had harmed, and went about making amends to them all. Some accepted his apologies, some didnt. All he could do was clean his own side of the street. There were fa few amends that were impossible to make, but he had admitted all of his sins to either his sponsor, his therapist, or his priest. All but The One Thing, that is. Thats what Ralph kept harping on. Danny had stayed sober for fifteen years. He deserved to keep The One Thing to himself, didnt he? Fucking Ralph. Danny chose a group with the innocuous name of New Hope that met in the basement of Saint Petes Episcopal Church. While groups sometimes did actually meet in church basements, they were rarely as depicted on television or in the movies. Thats just not the way things worked. Hollywood had gotten the coffee and donuts part down to a tee, but missed the mark on most of the rest. Sadly, there werent even any donuts at the New Hope group. Danny wished that he had known. He would have sprung for some. AA had given him his life back, and brought a good bit of financial security with it, so he didnt mind giving back now and again. He made his way over to the coffee urn, making eye contact with a few people on the way. He didnt even bother to smile. The most he got were some grunts and shrugs as he walked by. He had already decided that he wouldnt ever be coming back to this group, so why bother. He wasnt about to walk out, though. Giving up was for losers. He grabbed a Styrofoam cup from the top of the stack, which already had some black smudged fingerprints on the outside, and filled it with a sludge that they called coffee here at Saint Petes. Danny threw a buck into a basket on the table and plopped into a chair that seemed to be farthest away from everyone else. This was nothing like the usual meetings he hit. The churchs basement room was about forty by forty feet square. There were eight rectangular folding tables set up in a makeshift circle with wooden chairs set along the outside. Unfortunately, there would be no speaker. This was a discussion meeting. They would most likely read something out of some bit of AA approved literature the Big Book, Twelve and Twelve, or some meditation book and then go around the room weighing in on their own personal experience, strength, and hope. Danny didnt feel like talking, but the one bit of his sponsors advice that he had latched onto early was to always say something. Always be part of. Even though the ceiling held banks of fluorescent lights, the room still seemed cold. Perhaps it was the type of bulb they used. ( Were there different types?) Or perhaps it was the way the light reflected off the sickly yellow linoleum floor and institution-green walls. It smelled funny, too. Oh well, thought Danny, its only for an hour. He had spent twice that amount of time scraping together change for another bottle while fighting off the shakes in the past. In comparison, this would surely be more pleasurable than that. Thats what it came down to, wasnt it? For him, to drink is to die. There were times that he had done the most disgraceful things in order to get drunk. Things that would have sickened him if he had been sober and not fiending for the next drink. So if sitting through a boring meeting in a crappy place meant not drinking, even for only an hour, then so be it. Not a difficult choice. He was not a snob, but the thought that the people here seemed to be a little lower class than what he was used to. He was by no means rich, but now that he had gotten his life together, he was back in the upper-middle class demographic. The meetings that he attended were regularly frequented by businessmen, doctors, realtors, and other professionals. Frankly, even the blue-collar people at his normal meetings seemed to be upper class compared to these people. These people were and he had to remind himself that he was being honest and not uncaring the dregs of society. Unshaven, unkempt, tattooed, greasy, foul smelling. AA had taught him not to judge. There, but for the grace of God, go I. Still, it was hard. Just before the meeting was called to order, a man plopped down into the chair next to him. Oh, come on, buddy, thought Danny. Ten empty chairs, plenty to keep enough distance between all of us, and you have to sit right next to me. At least this guy seemed friendly. Short, stout (PC for obese), with a red, round face, he introduced himself. Names Mike! How bout you? Danny, he said as he extended his hand. At least Mike was dressed well. Button down shirt, slacks, dress shoes. He was even wearing cologne. Or was it the smell of booze? No, Danny decided, it was cologne. The guys breath smelled bad though. Not smelled as in drinking smelled, but just reeked. His teeth seemed white enough, but it was as if he hadnt brushed in ages. Mike tried to make small talk. I havent seen you before. So how long have you been coming to these meetings? About sixteen years, replied Danny. I came in for a year, and then decided that I wasnt ready to stop. I went back out for a while, and have been sober ever since. Fifteen years, one month, one week, and two days. Mike seemed truly amazed, How many minutes? Danny just smiled. Mike continued, Me? Ive only been coming for about a month now. Ill have thirty days on Wednesday. Well, congratulations. For some people, those first thirty are the hardest. Real white knuckle time. Mike was definitely pink clouding it. Thats the term for AAs in early sobriety who think that life has suddenly become wonderful and carefree. After a good period of sobriety, it kicks in that drunk or not, life still has challenges. Theres just no more alcohol to make the bad feelings go away. Ill be getting my chip. Mike was of course referring to the colored aluminum medallion that although not universally used - has become almost synonymous with AA. Sobriety coins themselves do not help people stay sober as such. It's the meaning behind them that is important. When a person receives a coin for one month, three months, or a longer period of time, the coins give a sense of pride for staying sober as long as they have, and to motivate them to continue. If a person should feel the desire to drink again, they might finger the coin in their pocket to remind them of all the headway they have made up to that point. It makes them ask themselves if they truly want to throw away all that progress. Danny never liked the chips. He would occasionally step back and remember exactly how much sober time he had remember that last drunk vividly but he didnt want a constant reminder. He felt it would make it easier to ask the question Has it been long enough? Am I cured now? The conversation was surprisingly pleasant enough, but Danny was happy when the meeting began all the same. Same old, same old. Business first, then reading, then around the table sharing. When eight oclock rolled around, the chairperson indicated that it was time to close, and they joined hands for the Lords Prayer. AA is not a religious organization, but saying the Lords Prayer at the end is sort of a tradition in most but not all groups. Its a sign of unity, if nothing else. Danny really didnt plan to stick around for fellowship afterwards, but he always stayed long enough to help clean up. However, before he got to the door, Mike cornered him. Hey Danny, am I going to see you around here again? Eh, Danny creased his brow, Probably not. I live on the other side of town. I just stopped in here tonight because well, it was just convenient. Danny guessed that had not technically been a lie. AAs had to be careful. Practice these principals in all of our affairs. Lies paved a slippery slope. Oh, Mike seemed dejected, Its just that they say to get phone numbers you know, to call for when you feel like drinking and I was wondering if I could get yours. Dannys shoulders relaxed a little. Of course, Mike. Thats never a problem. Never feel like you cant use it. Mike wouldnt use it. Most of the newbies never did. Danny pulled out a pen and jotted it down in the back of Mikes meeting pamphlet anyway. There you go. Thanks, Danny Mike shook the pamphlet. I will definitely use this. Youre a lifesaver. You guys are great. Mike bounced away. Danny made his way out into the parking lot and slid behind the wheel of his 2012 KIA. He said a little prayer for Mike. Hope he makes it. Maybe being at that meeting was Gods way of putting him in the right place at the right time. Danny rolled through the Burger King drive-thru on the way home to pick up an artery clogging dinner. He just wanted to flick on the television, eat, shower, and get into bed. It had been an exhausting day. He had barely pulled into his garage when his cell phone began to jingle. Danny finished parking, unbuckled his seatbelt, and answered the phone right there in the front seat. It was an old habit probably not a healthy one but he just had to pick up the phone when it rang. He could not bear the thought of someone leaving a message. He had heard stories of AAs who were never able to get through to someone, and things didnt turn out well. Once their faith in the system was broken, especially the newcomers, they didnt trust it anymore. Uh, Danny shifted the phone to his right ear, Whats up, Mike? Oh, no no no. Dont worry, Dan. Im not thinking of drinking. Just wanted to test out the number. Practice call, you know? They say to get used to calling when you dont need to, and that way itll be easier to call when you do need to. Um, yeah Mike. That is a good idea. So whats up? Um, well, not a whole lot since I saw you. I just drove home. Thats about it, Danny said with a smirk on his face. Im about to have some dinner and then its off to bed. Oh, okay, Mike replied. You go have your dinner and have a great night! Maybe Ill talk to you tomorrow? Sure, Mike. Danny showered, toweled off, and padded into his bedroom. He slid into a pair of silk boxers and fell into bed. He didnt imagine that hed have any problem sleeping he was physically exhausted but as usual, his mind raced a mile a minute. He was never able to fall asleep without the radio turned on, even when about ready to pass out. His head would hit the pillow and the stinkin thinkin would kick in. Thats how Danny discovered the wonders of talk radio. Dialed in to a pundit recapping the days news in a soothing voice, Danny pulled the chain on his bedside lamp and plunged the room into darkness. The pillow was cool. His stomach was full. His mind had calmed. Sleep began to
Danny phone jingled. He propped himself up on one elbow, used the remote to turn the radio off, and grabbed the phone from the nightstand. Its screen had lit up with the number of the incoming call, but he didnt recognize it. It wasnt a name that had been programmed into his phone. Danny briefly considered putting the phone back down and letting it go to voicemail, but he knew that he would not be able to sleep until he heard the message and, more than likely, called whomever it was back. Mmm, Danny sighed, Hello? Mike sounded grave this time. Sorry to call so late. I mean, I know you said that you were going to hit the hay, and I didnt want to bother you, but
Sokay, Mike. Remember how I said that Id be getting my chip in a couple of days? I cant believe itll have been a month already. You know, the day I took my last drink was a special day. Every day is special when its your last day drunk, Mike. Yeah, yeah. But, I mean special. It was the anniversary of Well Mike began to get flustered. See, my wife and I, my ex-wife that is, and I lost our daughter that day. Danny swung his legs out from under the covers and sat up. Oh, Im sorry. Oh, dont be, Danny. It happened a long time ago. Long time ago. It would have been her twenty-first birthday, Mike trailed off. So long ago. The denial, the depression, the sadness, the anger. I started drinking afterward and just never thought to stop. Until now, that is. Thats a long time to be stewing in it, Mike. Do you want to talk about it? Nah, Danny. No sense dredging up the past. Not when Im doing so well. Youre only as sick as your secrets, Mike. God, Danny hated it when his sponsor was right. Yeah, yeah. Maybe when Im feeling a little more stable, Danny. Maybe Ill talk about it then. Im just not doing so well right now. Danny spoke with Mike for about half an hour and, when he was convinced that Mike was over the urge to drink, let him off the phone and promised to meet him the following day. He lay down his phone and swung back under the covers, a smile on his face. What was it they say? Even if Mike went out and drank that night, at least Danny stayed sober. Help yourself by helping others. Danny forgot to turn the radio back on, and that night, he dreamt about The One Thing. Danny awoke to the sound of his phone. It wasnt the alarm tone, but the ringtone. Another phone call. He had come to recognize Mikes number by now. This was getting a little annoying, but sometimes thats the way it went. Mike would either fall off the wagon soon, or he would start to make new contacts. In the meantime, Danny would just have to deal with it. Good morning, Mike. Dan, my man! Good to hear your voice. Yeah, said Danny, scratching at the back of his head, Its been like six or seven hours now, huh? Oh, yeah. Im not bothering you, am I? Yes, yes, though Danny. So how did last night go? Didnt drink, did you? Nope, and I owe it all to you Dan. Well, Mike, you picked up the phone and made the call. So you can give yourself a little pat on the back. That phone can seem real heavy when it stands between you and a drink. Aint that the truth? So, are you hitting a meeting this morning, Danny? Um, no, Mike. I have a job, Danny tried not to sound ticked off. I have to work today. I promise that well get to one tonight. You pick it out, and call me back around six. Got it, Danno. Talk to you then. Dannys worst fear came true. Three more calls during the day. Mike had picked a group called As Bill Sees It, on Dannys side of town. Danny decided that he would need to have a talk with Mike that evening. Calling when in need, or even for occasional friendly support, was fine, but there was such a thing as abusing the system. You know, the boy who cried wolf sort of thing. Danny was about ready to throw his always-answer-the-phone policy out the door. Danny didnt look forward to the conversation, and had a rough time forcing his dinner down that evening. He wasnt hungry but, as usual, he tried to keep his stomach full. HALT Hungry, angry, lonely, tired. Four things an alcoholic never wanted to be. Any of those could be a setup for another drink. As he was finishing his second hot dog, wrapped in white bread with ketchup just as he liked them his phone rang again. He checked the screen. Fucking Mike. He decided that he wouldnt answer it, and let it go to voicemail. Seconds later, it rang again. Didnt that guy get the message? Danny let it go to voicemail again. Another few minutes passed, and it rang again. Danny wondered if Mike had changed his mind. Maybe he couldnt make it to the meeting after all. Still, he let it go to voicemail. Thankfully, more minutes passed and Mike did not call back. Danny felt like a heel, but he just couldnt deal with it anymore. At around a quarter of seven, Danny tied his shoes and gathered his wallet and car keys. As he headed toward the door, his phone jingled. This time, he answered. Hey, Mike. Im headed out the door right now. Oh thank God, Dan! exclaimed Mike. I couldnt get a hold of you, and then I started to worry I wondered if maybe you went out drinking again, I I
Mike! Slow down, buddy. Danny was beginning to let his temper get the best of him. Would you...? Just wait for me at the meeting. We need to talk. Mike was breathing more regularly now. You really had me going there. Well, anyway, you can ride with me. Danny strode out of the back door and pressed the button to lift the garage door. As the door rolled up, it gradually revealed a battered, green Honda sitting in the drive. Mike sat behind the wheel with the engine idling. Danny was taken aback. He walked briskly up to the drivers side door and motioned for Mike to lower the window. After a moment, and with a confused look on his face, Mike hit the button and the window glided down. Whats wrong, Dan? I thought that maybe we could ride to the meeting together. Then, maybe grab a cup of coffee after, huh? Danny was fed up. No meeting, no coffee after. I dont have time for this. I dont know what to do with you. You cannot keep calling me. How the hell did you even find out where I live? Oh, uh, Mike looked shamefacedly, I guess maybe I, uh, followed you home last night. What the hell?! Sorry, Dan. Im new at this. I really dont know how it works. How it works. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs. Danny thought it over and softened. Okay, Mike. Heres how it works, he said calmly. Ill come to the meeting, but I drive there myself. We talk a little. After the meeting, I come home. No more calling, unless you really need to like I am going to drink need to. Are we clear? Mike looked a little hurt, but replied, Okay. Clear, Danno. Danny got into his KIA and followed Mike to the meeting. They sat next to each other, but Mike was uncharacteristically quiet. Afterward, they separated in the parking lot with nary a word. See you tomorrow, Danny? Oh, hey, said Mike, Theres a candlelight meeting called Nite Owls tonight at the Oh, right. Tomorrow, Mike. Danny stressed. Danny thought that Mike may have gotten the message, but just in case, he turned his phone off for the evening for what was probably the first time in years. That night, Danny had a nightmare about The One Thing. Danny pulled himself from bed and showered in the morning, and had almost forgotten his phone. Still wrapped in a towel and with damp hair, he walked over to the nightstand and turned it on. He returned to the bathroom as it went through its boot up process, and then he heard a message tone from the next room. Wonder who that could be. Six missed calls from Mike. One two voicemails, four texts. Thanks for coming, Dan, Sure you dont want to go to the meeting?, Great meeting shoulda been there! and Need 2 talk. Danny didnt want any confrontation today. He turned his phone back off, dressed and left home. He knew just knew that Mike would show up at his door after not receiving answers for long enough. He planned to not be there. Even though it was a Saturday, he would hang out at his office. There was a couch there. He could take a nap if need be. ( And he did need it after the previous night.) He felt silly and demoralized. It was his own house, damn it. He was being chased away from his own home by well, a stalker. Should he talk to the police? No, he decided. He would talk to his sponsor first. Not daring to turn his cell back on for fear that it might ring in his hand; upon arriving at his office, he picked up his desk phone and dialed in Ralphs number. Ralph was no help. At least, he didnt tell Danny what he wanted to hear. Just suck it up, Danny. Ive had my share of pigeons who either tried too hard or didnt try hard enough. My guess is that this Mike guy will turn out to be one or the other. Why dont you bring him along to tonights meeting? Ill meet you guys at the Acceptance Group tonight. Maybe I can have a talk with him. Yeah, I suppose. Danny turned his cell back on in order to call Mike and invite him to the Acceptance Group that evening. Six missed calls, and it was barely noon. He sighed and began to scroll to Mikes number when the phone jingled. Danny didnt even need to look at the number to know who it was. I tried to
Yeah, I know Mike. Ive been at work. I just turned my phone on and saw that you had called. An icy thought ran down Dannys spine. Did Mike know where he worked, too? Anyway, my sponsor suggested that I introduce you to him tonight. Were going to Saint Andrews to a meeting called the Acceptance Group. Want to come? Are you kidding? Do you even need to ask? I would never pass on the chance to meet my sponsors sponsor. Hes like, what, my grand-sponsor? Danny thought about it, and never had the talk of him being Mikes sponsor come up. A sponsor is a recovering alcoholic who has successfully made some personal progress in the AA recovery program. He or she is asked by another AA member to take on the individual responsibility of sponsorship. A sponsor shares their experiences on an individual and personal basis with another alcoholic who is trying to achieve or maintain their own sobriety through the AA program. They help the person focus and navigate through the stages of the program. The relationship between an AA member and his sponsor is usually a pretty close and intimate one, and not gone into lightly. Not only does an alcoholic need to carefully choose a sponsor, but also the potential sponsor must cautiously decide whether taking on a sponsee is prudent. Danny gave him the benefit of the doubt, though. Mike was new at this. Hey now, Mike, Im just another alcoholic willing to help you out. Im not really in the right state of mind to sponsor anyone. Not until he rid his conscience of The One Thing, anyway. Oh, okay. Dont feel bad, Mike. Youll catch on to how this works. Then Danny had a thought, one that might rid him of Mike for good. Ralph has really helped me out. Maybe hed be a good choice for you to consider. Eh, he wont be the same as you, Dan. Youd be surprised. Were all the same in one way or another. Promise me that youll keep an open mind. Anything for you, Danno. Danny hung up and texted directions to the meeting. Then he turned his phone back off. He decided on trying to catch a little nap, after all, and so curled up on the couch in the reception area of his office. He drifted off almost immediately, but it didnt last long. He awoke screaming and in a cold sweat just forty-five minutes later. He felt his face and realized that hed been crying, also. He had dreamed of The One Thing. Why had thoughts of it returned, and in such force? Fucking Ralph. He brought it up and started pressing Danny. That would make sense. Although, Danny had a feeling that Mike had something to do with it. Guilt over avoiding him? Constantly having to look over his shoulder and avoid phone calls? Or perhaps the fact that Mike had lost his daughter. Danny pushed The One Thing to the back of his mind once again, and decided to cross the street to McDonalds to get in at least one meal before that evenings meeting. Danny had to cross a four-lane street in order to reach McDonalds. It was the middle of the afternoon, clear weather, and being a Saturday there was only light traffic. He absentmindedly glanced both directions and crossed, not bothering to walk to the corner and wait for a signal. He was about halfway across when, seemingly out of nowhere, a car came racing at him. The driver was noticeably straddling the double striped centerline of the road, and overcorrected when he noticed Danny at the last moment. Danny could hear the tires screech as the driver got back into his own lane and sped off. A drunk knew the signs when he saw another drunk driving under the influence. This guy was definitely drunk. Probably drinking in his car all morning and then falling asleep at the wheel after finally deciding to go home. Danny had done it himself on many occasions. Even though he could have stayed home and drank contentedly (and safely) in the comfort of his living room, he would choose to sit at the park on some mornings and drink in his car. He thought of how strange the ritual was, and how it was not unique to him. On any given morning, there would be a spattering of cars in each lot all parked as far away from each other as the lot would allow. Each car with a single occupant, seemingly just sitting there. Every now and then, he could glance over and catch the sight of a bottle being raised to the drivers lips. Fred, another guy from one of the meetings, would occasionally go down to a local park and work it. Hed walk around the lots and catch drunks, pretending that he had just been walking by and was looking to make conversation. Sometimes, his presence was enough to make the drunk drive away. Sometimes, theyd stay and talk. Sometimes, they would even offer him a drink. Only twice, as far as Danny was aware of, did Fred actually get a drunk to open up about his problem and agree to take Freds advice. It might not have seemed like a lot, but that may have been two lives saved. Plus countless others, if you figured in the innocent lives that a drunk might take along with himself on the highway to Hell. Danny began to hyperventilate. He ran the rest of the way across the street and sat on the curb, his gorge rising. He tried to calm himself, but could not. Eventually, he vomited into the gutter. It wasnt the first time, but in the past, hed always been drunk or hung over. He realized how pitiful he must have looked. He had never seemed to care in the past. Eating was out of the question. Danny went back to the parking lot of his office, crossing the street with extra care this time, and got into his car. He drove straight to the church. He would be almost an hour and a half early, but that was okay. Someone was always there early to open up the rooms and make coffee. It was nice to show up and shoot the shit sometimes. Not surprisingly, Mike was already there when Danny arrived. He was sitting out in the parking lot, but remained in his car. It looked like he was dozing. Danny walked over and rapped on the drivers side window a few times. Mike startled, and he rolled the window down. Youre early. Thats great. Couldnt wait to get here, Mike, he said sarcastically. Tell you what. Lets go around back and grab a bench. Danny led Mike behind the church. There was a small outdoor chapel of sorts just a few benches facing a large, wooden cross, and overlooking a small stream. Danny motioned for Mike to take a seat, and then sat down next to him. Mike, lets talk. Danny seemed surprisingly calm. I know that youre pretty new to the program, and this may be skipping ahead quite a bit, but let me explain how the fourth and fifth steps of AA go. They are, to me at least, probably the most important steps of all twelve. They are where you begin healing. Sounds great, Dan. Not really. I did a really shitty job on my fifth step. Remember how I told you that youre only as sick as your secrets? Mike nodded, Yeah, Danny. The fourth and fifth steps ask you to make a searching and fearless moral inventory, and then admit to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. I can see where that would help. I have so much guilt and remorse, Danny. Sometimes, I think its what makes me drink. Danny shook his head. No, Mike, you drink because youre an alcoholic. But its a whole lot easier to get sober when you get your head on straight. When you get rid of all of the shit thats deep down inside. The stuff that regrets are made of. So are we going to do that now? I thought that you already did your steps. Danny nodded. I did, Mike. But the fourth and fifth steps are carried on throughout the rest. We have to continue to take a moral inventory, and do those steps over and over, because we are human. Just because we get sober doesnt make us saints. We still make mistakes. Mike nodded slowly and remained quiet. It was as if he knew that Danny was about to say something important and it was time to keep his mouth shut. You see, Mike, there was something that I never admitted in my fifth step. Something that I couldnt admit. The One Thing that I wasnt ready to give up. I dont know why, but its catching up to me now. Im afraid that if I dont let it go, Im either going to drink or kill myself. What is it, Danno? This is probably a mistake. Telling a newcomer. Especially about The One Thing. In fact, this would be better left with a priest, but at this point it doesnt matter because Im going to have to own up to it. The One Thing is something that everyone will find out about sooner or later. Probably sooner, now. You can tell me, Danny, your secret is safe with me. Suddenly, it was as if Mike had become the old-timer. His demeanor changed. He surely didnt seem like a newbie anymore. The whole way he was acting He had gone from being an annoying, overexcited, asshole to a quiet, comforting soul at least in Dannys heart. Danny took a deep breath. Ive been sober for fifteen years, one month, one week, and four days. I told you that I came into the rooms about sixteen years ago, though. Well, something happened about six months into that. Id been dry, sure, but still an alcoholic. Still exhibiting all of the same behavior. Thats what the program is for, by the way. Not to make us stop drinking, but to make us saner, healthier people. Well, Mike, I Dannys breath hitched in his throat. He was already regretting bringing this up, but he felt like it was too late now. Go on, Danno. Im listening. It was late summer. Around seven oclock, dusk. I was driving up Parkside Avenue, you know the place? As a matter of fact, I used to live in a cul-de-sac off Parkside. Then you know the hill, about midways. Anyway, I was coming up over the crest of the hill, tooling along pink clouding it, stone cold sober, mind you. A little girl, damn it. She came out from between two parked cars and just just ran right out in front of me. Oh, God Danny. I couldnt stop. I fucking ran her down, Mike. A little girl! Thats horrible, Mike grimaced, But it was an accident Danny. You said so yourself. You were sober. She ran out from between the cars. You couldnt have known. No, but it was what I did next that was unforgiveable. What, Dan? Mike rocked back, laced his fingers together, and knitted his brow. He had a clearheaded look about him. One that Danny had never seen on Mikes face before. What was unforgiveable? Danny took a deep breath. I didnt stop. I just kept on driving. I panicked. It was like I had been drinking. I didnt want to get caught. Afterward, I realized that it was an accident, but at the time At the time, I just panicked. I acted just like a drunk would have. I left her there, Mike. Maybe she was still alive, but I left her there. What if she was just hurt and could have been saved if I had just stopped?! She wasnt hurt. She was dead the instant you hit her, Dan. You couldnt know that. I didnt know that, and I was there. I do know it, Danny. Thats what the EMT said. Dead on impact. Danny jerked his head up. It was as if his stomach had dropped out from under him. Like the first hill on a roller coaster. What did you say? When I got there, thats what the EMT told me. Dead on impact. She didnt suffer. She probably had no idea what had happened. What the hell are you talking about Mike? She was my daughter, Danny. Danny was speechless. He sat still for a moment, and then started shaking his head violently. Fuck you, Mike. Her father is dead. I followed the story in the papers. He killed himself two months after the accident. Got drunk and drove into a bridge abutment. Why the hell would you even say something like that? Mike had tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. Because now I know, Danny. Now I know that you are repentant. Fuck you, Mike. How can you pull this shit on me? How can you even say something like that? Do you think that this is a joke? Well, fuck you. Danny stormed away, sobbing, and walked toward the church. Ralph had arrived and was walking in himself. He noticed how upset Danny was and stopped him, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around somewhat forcefully. Whats wrong? Whats going on? That asshole. I told him, Ralph. I told him The One Thing, and do you know what he said? Slow down, Danny, said Ralph. If youre ready, why dont you tell me what The One Thing is first. His secret no longer a secret, he told Ralph exactly what he had told Mike. And he said that hes her father! Who, Danny? That idiot whos been harassing me. Where is he, Danny? Is he here? Ill talk to him. Danny turned and pointed at the bench. Hes right He was sitting with me right there. Ralph cocked his head. Danny, are you okay? No, Im upset, and with good reason. I just told him The One Thing, and he goes and says that? Ralphs brow wrinkled with concern. Danny, Ive been here for twenty minutes waiting for you to go inside. I saw you sitting there on the bench talking to yourself, and thought that you were praying or needed some time to yourself. You were alone the whole time, Danny. Danny scanned the parking lot. No battered, green Honda. He started to breath heavily, and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his call log all of the calls he had made and received. All of the texts. The only call in the last three days was the one he had made to Ralph that same morning. There was one text message waiting in his inbox. It had no number associated with it. I forgive you Danny."""
s_1701_714,"I say that not expecting you to believe that. No offense, but you're hurting me with that look. See, I'll tell you the truth but let me say everything that's on my mind before you pass any judgement. I mean, I know you'll pass judgement but reserve your final judgement until I tell you everything. I hear voices. In my head. Like real voices and they're really mean. AND THEY'RE NOT ME. I know my voice, my voice is the one talking to you. My voice is from my heart. These voices are like ghosts or demons that live in my head. I'm so scared. Sorry, I love you. Please, don't say anything. I'm afraid you're not gonna believe me. This is so painful for me. See, like, I hear the voices. But I ignore them. I know they're not me but they won't go away. I used to fight them and tell them to get out or to go die or to fuck themselves but then they would attack me. They know my every insecurity and they say stuff at times you wouldn't be able to understand how painful it gets. I just heard one laugh. Now they're whispering. I swear this is real. I hear them. I don't think they're me, if they told me to kill somebody I would never do it! Joann, please believe me. They're laughing even harder now. I just want this to stop. I just want to go back to normal. I hate it here. The voices aren't going away. Their treatment isn't working! I'm sorry. I'll stop crying. Thank you. The doctors say i'm insane, but it's the voices that are insane."
s_2139_96,My normal state feels weird. I am extremely alert and just waiting to either be depressed again or a state of Hypomania. Always waiting. I have been trying to enjoy my normal state. Where I am neither very happy or sad. I am actually kind of scared of the depression coming back because I know I always get very close to ending it. That scares me alot.
s_2180_39,"24 1/2 Years Old Female: No job living with parents in squatters' condition depressed VENT. TITLE: 24 1/2 Years Old Female: No job living with parents in squatters' condition depressed VENT. I don't know why I am up this late and I am ashamed to be posting this (and probably will regret this later) but I got to get a few things off my chest. THIS IS HELLA LONG BUT I APPRECIATE ANYONE WHO CAN READ LEND A PAIR OF EYES/HEARTS. JUST NEED TO VENT. As the title suggests I am 24 1/2 Years Old Female: No job living with parents in squatters' condition depressed. By squatters' conditions I mean:
Living in a house that had two fires almost 10 years ago/on-going construction. Living without heat, running/drinking water, shower/tub, toilet, stove/gas. Aka can't shower, cook, or shit properly. Living in a living room/sleeping on couches with my parents. This is where we eat, sleep, ""lounge""
How I got here/Where I was: Almost a year ago. Got laid off unexpectedly. I was very unprofessional at this job and surprised I didn't get fired (due to depression). Weird but kinda saw this as a blessing in disguise. Mom got fired (again) from part-time job, lost apartment we all had to move back to the house. Mom previously left Dad after first fire. My mom has lost hope. Dad living paycheck to paycheck, constantly working. For months before internship, half-assingly looked for apartments, sublets, full-times jobs, but never really followed through because of depression, fear, and anxiety. Have savings but don't want to touch in case of emergencies. I am very disciplined when it comes to money. I save constantly and can pay for food/phone bill. Fear of being broke; also makes me afraid to spend money. Been battling diagnosed depression for 5+ years. I had a counselor for 2 1/2 years and she told me she things I have major depression. Where I am/Present day:
Let go from internship recently after a long bout of unemployment due to small non-profit budget reasons. Got let go in early August. Mom has part-time job. Before then used to help out/give her $$$
Dad has full-time job. Again half-assingly looking for apartments, sublets, and jobs. Actually have 2 job interviews today but I am not sure I am going (fear, developing slight Agoraphobia). Not sure if I want a job now. Managed to save money from internship (already on top of savings from last job). I can live off these savings for a couple of months. Family is divided. Father stubborn and overworked. Mother hopeless and slightly irresponsible. Constant fights. Feel alone, that no one has my back, that I can't trust anyone. Resentment, betrayal, anger, sadness/mixed feelings, towards parents/family. My parents has let me down so much. Don't have confidence in myself/ going out on my own because I don't have anyone to truly fall back on if I fail. 1st world poor. Now that I got the backstory out the way it's time for feelings. This past couple of months have been the worst of my life. I have never felt soo lost and soo weak ever. On days that I didn't have my internship I used be afraid to leave my house. I only survived at my internship because my fear of being completely broke outweighs my fear of being outside. Towards the end of my internship it has gotten way worst (my developing Agoraphobia). I say developing because I can physically go outside it's just that I need to mentally distract myself (playing games on phone, listening to music, reading). I even experienced silent freakouts at my internship. The house has made me a bit crazy. Thoughts racing, constant stomachaches when I think about my ""reality""; feeling unhinged/unsafe. The only way I can relax myself is Netflix. I have developed escapist tendencies I don't think I can face reality head on. LOGIC/HEAD IS TELLING ME
Get a full time job
Save some more. Get the fuck out. Don't want to enable my mental illnesses. HEART/BODY IS TELLING ME:
Slow down, take it easy, take care of your mental health FIRST. Be creative, use this free time to write and figure out life/career. Need emotional support. Fear I am heading towards a breakdown
I feel I always have to choose between them. To be honest I am leaning more towards my heart. I am not sure if it's my fear/mental issues talking or if it's actually what I want to do. The only real reason I am leaning towards my heart is, I never actually truly followed my heart. I always did what was expected of me, always was responsible, mature, put together. And for 5 years onward my programming/facade is breaking down. I always did my school work, hardly ever socialized, never got in trouble, always obeyed my parents. I was always smart with money, controlled, and careful. Got to college and all that I was, was questioned. I realized at 18 I was never actually truly happy. I did things because I thought that is what I should be doing than what I want to be doing. Negative thinking, social media, social community isolation (went away for college). Before I close this novel of a post; I just want to let you know that I am NOT/NEVER WAS SUICIDAL. I also don't think I am completely hopeless. I know I am smart responsible I just need help/time/emotional support and to not be soo hard on myself. Even so, I don't believe it (I know this is statement contradictory weird). I struggling with knowing believing. I know things/have insight, but I can't put them into believing/action. Anyway vent over (I got much more to say but this is HELLA long)."
s_731_838,"I thought I had been dreaming. When I woke up and found that I had actually written it and actually had experienced this I felt like I must have hallucinated the entire event. I thought about it for weeks. I finally told my Dad, and he had some words for me. He told me to ""lay off the crack"", got up and left the patio. I just sat there, too stunned to cry, but feeling so incredibly hurt. I had seen something so rare and it was thrown back at me. 4 years later, I still feel like I have no answers. I still struggle to understand what I have seen. I contacted MUFON. The lady I spoke with was very interested in what I had to tell her. She sounded very eager to hear what I had seen. I'd like to also say, I've seen things in the sky before, but only way up high. Nothing could have prepared me for this."
s_2828_750,It's easier to win playing as a great carry with a shitty support than a great support with a shitty carry for the most part. A game this morning ended up with our Sniper building a Skull Basher. I wanted to cry.
s_697_322,"Nope, it was hell. Overall for that entire week I only slept 4-5 hours. Some nights I would get no sleep at all. Hands down one of the worst weeks Ive ever experienced. Literally nothing was helping me and my anxiety was really bad."
s_1601_685,"It will not fix the more serious problem though. If someone wants to die, they will find a way. If it's not by jumping off, it will be with their belt around their neck, hanging in their closet. We live in a world that indirectly encourages suicide. The ""worthy"" ones should get all the good stuff, while the mediocre ones could die and no one would care. On top of that, very few people actually believe they're actually worthy. Now, in some countries, it's way worse because sometimes those words are said directly to people (thinking about Japan and South Korea). However in America the continent, Africa ... all around the world, there are so few resources known to the general population that could indeed save someone's life by said individual's choice. I wish there was such a thing as an organization who's purpose is to help people who feel down and suicidal to find some purpose in their life. Not just through talking though, because words can only do so much. Honestly. Feeling worthless and miserable sucks."
s_170_138,"Just signed up for my first race and it's in 3 WEEKS! This past summer I joined a boxing gym and fell in love with working out. I was going 3-5 times a week, started to get in great shape and felt better about myself than I ever had. But then I got injured and took some time off from the gym. Immediately following that, I went on vacation for a week and did zero work outs. I came home with a terrible sunburn and sun poisoning, which kept me out for another week. I ended up being out for over a month. That was July, and I'm still struggling to get back into a routine, I can hardly manage getting to the gym once a week now. I've also gained weight, and I'm not 10 lbs higher than my original start weight! This is what hurts most. I worked so hard and it's all disappeared. My plan at the beginning of the year was to look better for this holiday season than I did the last. I just got married in February and wore a size 16 dress. My new goal is to be at a size 10 for my 1 year anniversary. The thing is, it's not even just about looks and dress sizes. Heart disease and diabetes runs on both sides of my family. I want to be healthy enough to live a long, fulfilling life with my husband and raise a family. To help cure myself of this, I just singed up for my first 5k. It's not much but I've never ran that far before. Given that I paid the entry fee, I'm hoping it will light a fire under me and get me back into a solid training routine. I'm so nervous but at the same time I havnt stopped smiling since I registered. God, I hope this doesn't blow up in my face. I'm so tired of failing and starting over again. EDIT: structure and spelling. EDIT 2: only a few people have commented so far but I just love how supportive this community is! Thank you all for the encouragement and advice!"
s_1514_74,"There are some things in this life that you simply can't do anything about, but at eleven years old we didn't know that. When our friend Cody was diagnosed with cancer, we thought for sure we could simply go on an adventure and find some sort of mysterious cure like they always did on television. It was the early nineties back then, and the Internet was just beginning to be a thing. We would cluster around the computer and investigate terribly formatted message boards in search of the arcane, because for the first time our reach extended beyond our cul-de-sacs and out across the limitless globe to places and peoples unknown. All we knew of these others were basic plain text sentences on a goofily-colored background above permanent *Under Construction* gifs. Naturally, the first thing we did was agree to meet a stranger in the woods. She claimed to be a cute thirteen-year-old girl with red hair, and the three of us were both excited and terrified of investigating the cave she said she'd found. Kyle and I were iffy on climbing in a cave, but Grant and Cody were already psyching each other up to look cool and adventurous in front of a girl. The day was uncomfortably humid among the tall Virginian pines, and I remember nearly turning back as we hiked through banks of mosquitos on our approach toward the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It couldn't have been more than a few miles from home, but it felt like we'd gone on a dangerous safari. We should have listened to that instinct. Following the landmarks the message on the forum had given us, we worked our way deeper into tangled undergrowth, across fallen logs, and further from anything familiar. As children in the nineties, being left to wander the forests on a summer day with our friends was not out of the ordinary, but none of us had ever gone this far. There was absolutely no wind at all as we crunched our way forward and birdsong was the only other sound; when even that stopped, absolute silence fell. We'd reached our destination. In soundless humidity under clouded sunlight, a large boulder formed a mossy dome in the middle of a clearing. Nothing grew around it, and the blackened earth held a pattern of serration, like the back of some ridged serpent that had somehow wrapped itself around the base of the ancient stone. We saw these things and would certainly have been concerned if not for the presence of a red-headed girl a bit older than us sitting on top of the rock. She lowered her water bottle and said, ""Good, you're here. Our relief that she was actually who she said she was made us realize that we might have found anybody out here, and, suddenly wary, we asked, ""Where?"" When she hopped down, we saw that she was a tomboyish girl with a plain face, not at all the young Cindy Crawford that Grant and Cody had been hoping for. Still, we'd come all this way, and a girl two years older than us was still intimidating. When she insisted, ""Under this rock,"" we dutifully followed her around to the other side of the stone dome to find a recently-made hole and a banged-up shovel. "" The black pattern on the ground dives under the rock here,"" she said. "" So I dug at it to see what I could find, and it turns out there's a whole cave under there."" Kyle had concerns about the safety of the cave, concerns that I shared, but the girl insisted it was safe. She pulled a flashlight from her pocket and pointed it within, showing us that there were manmade walls below. One by one, we followed her into the hole under that massive capping rock, and we brought out our own flashlights to look around. The walls were not the color of earth. Huge grey bricks as long as a person and as tall as Grant held up the tunnel around us, conveying the feeling of a very old temple. Small alcoves held inscribed images at intervals, but the carvings were all that remained. Any color they'd once held had long since fallen away. Cody had the idea to angle the flashlights to emphasize the shallow carvings, but the shadows that emerged painted only pictures of a world of darkness and despair. Small human figures held their arms up as they ran or were eaten by massive snake-like creatures with huge fanged mouths. ""Is this Native American?"" Grant asked. The girl shook her head. "" We have tons of their caves near my house. This is something else. Looks way older."" Kyle backed toward the spear of light from the hole to the surface, but he didn't flee just yet. "" What's older? What was here before the Native Americans?"" ""I dunno,"" she said, unafraid. "" That's why we're looking around. Aren't you curious?"" He swallowed his unhappiness and continued on with us down the tunnel. The walk took us deeper and deeper into darkness until the light from the hole curved out of sight; with our five flashlights, we were not too concerned, but I did begin swinging my beam back behind us at intervals. What I thought had been complete silence now crept upon me like distant whispering, or perhaps a small breeze curling eddies unseen in the dust. Were the shadows themselves watching us and muttering amongst themselves? And it was warmer here than it should have been. I'd been in caves before, and they were usually on the unpleasant side of chilly. This temple-like tunnel was a little warm. Before I could figure anything out, we saw a lance of sunlight curve into sight ahead. At first we thought it was another hole, but we soon realized that we were coming up on the entrance again. The tunnel had taken us in a giant loop. By then, the whispering eddies had become more pronounced, and I became absolutely certain I was actually hearing something. This time when I turned my beam behind us, I nearly screamedbut the older girl grabbed my mouth, pushed Grant and Cody toward the opposite wall, and dragged Kyle and me into a carven alcove. For nearly fifteen seconds we clung to warm stone and pressed back as hard as we could. For nearly fifteen seconds, we watched a wall of scales slide past our three circles of light just inches away. We could only hope Grant and Cody had gotten the idea and were pressed into the alcove on the other side; here, we barely fit, and Kyle bit his lip so hard that blood began pouring down his chinhe did this to keep from screaming, for he was the outermost of us, and those huge shimmering green scales were moving by millimeters from his sleeve. I'd seen massive milky white eyes moving right toward us; the creature was blind, possibly from millennia spent underground moving in an eternal circle, but we didn't dare test whether it was deaf as well. One scream
But the enormous serpent was suddenly past like a train departing down the line, and we saw Grant and Cody staring at us with wide white eyes of their own from across the tunnel. To get to the exit hole, *we had to go the direction the creature had gone.* How could we will ourselves to do that? It turned out: very slowly. We knew that it would be coming back around the long loop, but our animal fears were far more concerned with the slithering sounds receding just ahead. What would it do if it sensed us? It was almost exactly the size of the tunnel. Could it even turn around? We couldn't risk it. Only a few feet ahead, Kyle sighted a deeper alcove that actually became a small tunnel of its own, and we ducked inside in the hopes of timing our escape. Instead, we found an adjoining chamber, and there was no mistaking the cathedral feel of the high-vaulted and elegant stonework within. Even stranger, on a platform in the middle of the chamber rather than set near the back wall like one might expect, a raised stone hand lay open beneath an ornate fist-sized hedron that seemed to be *floating in the air.* It was a geometric solid with eight sides, like two pyramids stuck together, and covered in delicate carvings. Like the alcoves, it lacked any coloring, but the silvery metal seemed to make the images upon it come alive under our flashlights. We whispered at her harshly to stop, but the girl put her hand on itand it stopped floating. She turned it this way and that, but it was just an inert hunk of metal and stone, and whatever curious energies it had held had apparently dissipated. No, that was not exactly correct: we still felt a strong compulsion to look at it and keep it with us. Collectively enthused by our mysterious treasure, we crept back to the larger tunnel, waited in terror as the giant snake passed again, and then made a run for the tunnel exit. Climbing out of there was probably the most panic-filled moment of my life; at any instant, a tremendous creature under the earth could have sunk blade-like fangs into me, and I would never have seen it coming. But we made it out, and back into the heat and humidity. I'd never been so happy to see mosquitos again. We ran through clouds of them without a care, for we'd both found a treasure and escaped with it. This was everything we'd hoped for! A half-mile away from that strange rock and its surrounding tattoo in the earth, I stumbled and nearly fell, and we all slowed to take a break. As we sat, the redheaded girl leaned down and picked up a coin. "" Hey look, a fifty-cent piece."" ""What, in the dirt out here?"" Grant asked. She shrugged. "" It is what it is."" That should have been our first warning, but it was too small and too early. The girl's name was Morgan, and our discovery meant that she was now locked in as our friend. The five of us had a secret, and that meant we would be seeing quite a bit of each other. Rather than going our separate ways as we finally made it back out of the forest, we decided to delay the question of who would keep the hedron by faking a sleepover. Kyle's parents were rather oblivious, and they did not once see Morgan as we snuck her into the basement. We sat in that basement for hours going over and over the object with magnifying glasses and tracing paper and anything else we could think of that might help us crack the mystery of its meaning and origin. The metal carvings on it portrayed very different scenes from the alcoves; as we rotated it, we saw the story of an unknown human figure at first running from a massive serpent, then turning to face it as it grew smaller, and finally chasing it in turn as the snake shrank. The last face of the hedron showed the man alone, resting from the chase now that the creature was had shrunk into oblivion. ""Someone made this a long time ago,"" Morgan said, her eyes wide. "" Probably to fight or control those snake-things."" ""Has the snake just been down there all this time?"" Cody wondered. "" Going around and around and around...""
I happened to look out one of the windows to the back yard behind Kyle's basement then, and I froze as I thought I saw a wall of scales moving between the trees out in the darknessbut that wasn't possible, was it? As Cody began coughing, I decided not to say anything. The day had already been pretty stressful for him, and he was not looking well. None of us acknowledged the reality of what was happening to him, but that night we were collectively more focused on making sure he was comfortable and had the best couch. When we woke up the next morning, Morgan wasn't in the room, and the hedron was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, we panicked, but our mutual exhaustion kept us from doing anything drastic. I was tired in a way I hadn't been before, and it only lifted somewhat as she came jogging back with the artifact in hand. "" I thought I saw that giant snake,"" she said warily. "" I'm not sure, but I might have chased it away with this thing."" Kyle gulped. "" It's just like... loose?"" Morgan wasn't sure, and I didn't want to speak up just yet to confirm that I had also seen it. How could something that huge even move around the neighborhood without destroying things or getting noticed? The answer didn't occur to me until we snuck upstairs and ate breakfast after Kyle's parents had gone to work. I said it with Cheerios still in my mouth: ""It's smaller now."" ""What is?"" ""The serpent. It *did* follow us. I turned my head and stared out the window at bushes moving in the wind. "" But remember the metal carvings? The serpent gets smaller when it's chasing you."" It was finally time to panic. Running up to the second floor together, we peered out of windows until we saw it: a long winding scaled body moving behind the neighbor's fence. The snake was now the height of a large dog, but still as long as a back yard. We began screaming thenat least until the snake began curving back toward us. It *could* hear us. We ran from Kyle's house in a veritable stampede, and this time we had no problem letting someone take the hedron. We foisted it on Morgan and separated, hoping to see who it would follow. It was not directly behind us on the street, but we knew it would find us. It had somehow located us miles from where we'd found it, and was enormously adept at staying out of sight of everyone but us. On my way home, I didn't look where I was going, and a kid on a bike crashed into me. It was scary for a moment, but I brushed it off and staggered home cut up and bruised. The injuries matched how I felt; I only began to really worry when we got on a group phone call and Kyle, Grant, and Cody all began talking about the bad luck they'd had. I'd been hit by a kid on a bike, Kyle had fallen into a sticker bush and gotten scraped all over, Grant had hit his head on a low-hanging door and split open his skin, and Cody said he was feeling worse every minute. But Morgan answered our group call and said, ""I'm feeling great. And my school's closed tomorrow because a pipe burst. I don't have to go in for a test I didn't study for. Also, I found a twenty dollar bill!"" We began to suspect. But we didn't *know* until Grant broke his arm the next day and Cody was taken to the hospital after a sudden turn for the worse. I barely avoided being hit by a car but became even more cut up and bruised in the process, and Kyle caught a terrible flu that kept him home from school. Something was happening to us. Meanwhile, Morgan's father won the lottery. She met with me excited and happy until she saw my injuries and I told her what was happening to the others. For a moment, she hesitated, and I thought she might decide to keep the artifactbut she shook her head at long last and made the better choice. We rode our bikes to the hospital and smuggled the hedron in with us as we visited Cody. He was awake, but looking pale and gaunt, and we placed it in his hand and waited. After four hours, Morgan still reported feeling great, and Cody was looking no better. I was not sure I could stand the draining feeling in my chest much longer, either. ""The energy,"" I realized. "" It was floating until you touched it. Then it changed."" With a look of slow horror, Morgan realized that simply handing the object to someone else would not stop what was happening. "" What if we throw it in the ocean?"" I shook my head. "" It doesn't seem to matter where it is. Cody's holding it and nothing's changed."" Her horror slowly morphed into anger; she scowled. "" Then let's break it. You guys are nice, and I didn't become your friend just to make you all sick."" Over on the bed, Cody smiled weakly at her. "" Thank you."" She nodded and took the evil object from him. Together, she and I stepped out into the hallwayand immediately leapt away and began running. The snake was a foot high now, but still very long, and had infiltrated the hospital. It hissed and slid after us with its milky white eyes searching; we led it away from Cody as best we could. None of the doctors, nurses, or other visitors stirred to action, for the snake expertly dodged their attention. By the time they were looking, it was already out of sight. But all that hiding gave us distance. Morgan and I escaped the hospital, ran out onto the street, and threw the object in a trash compacting dumpster out back. We didn't care if we got in trouble; we turned it on and watched as the power of man's machines crushed the contents within to a pulp. We stared as the compactor ground to a halt and began smoking. The metal within had *bent* and left the hedron completely undamaged. It was warm to the touch, too, as I grabbed it with trepidation and began to lose hope. We couldn't get rid of it, we couldn't destroy itwhat *could* we do? The snake was relentless. No matter where we went, it was close behind, and I was unable to sleep that night for the tension caused by its slithering outside the door and the window. The four of us gathered that day to see Cody. His face had become thin and skull-like, and he looked like a shadow of his former self. To us, he said, ""Guys, we saw what happens on the walls. The groups of figures only got away because the snake caught one of them, remember?"" ""But the hedron only has one person on it,"" Grant insisted. Kyle nodded, and Morgan stared at the floor. Cody shook his head feebly. "" They're all part of the same structure. It's all connected. This won't stop until one of us dies."" I grabbed his hand. "" ""You can't stop it,"" he continued, his eyes bright despite the darkness wasting away the rest of him. "" I'm going to take one for the team so it'll let the rest of you go."" The snake was small thenjust a slithering little creature the size of a penciland we waited in despairing silence as it crept along the plastic tube that led up into his nose. He nodded at usand then began seizing. Doctors and nurses rushed in and we were pushed out of the room, but I couldn't see anything; I could only hear the beeps of technology and the urgent voices of professionals at work. Wandering back to the visitor's area with my friends, we sat in a daze. ""Why me?"" Morgan asked. "" Why did it help me and hurt all of you?"" Grant absently messed with the sling for his broken arm and shook his head. Kyle stared at the wall. I rolled the hedron in my hands. It hadn't even suffered so much as a dent from the trash compactor, but the fact remained that it was just a toy; a bauble; nothing at all. A silly hope, and innocence lost. We four lingered after the funeral. We'd been four before this adventure, and we were four again, but not the same four. One had come and one had gone. Standing by his grave, I rolled the hedron in my sight, watching the glyphs depict exactly what we'd gone through. As I ran through it over and over and over, I began to realize that this object was a uniform geometric shape; there was really no indication of a beginning or end to the story. We'd simply assumed that in our naivet. No, this was a series of images designed to continue seamlessly. It was not a story: it was a cycle. The serpent burst forth from Cody's grave once again the thickness of a hearse, throwing earth and gravestones and even pieces of a smashed tree out in every direction. We stared in awe as it tore a path through the graveyard and slithered off into the evening darkness. In my hands, the hedron had become just a painted rock like any other. There are some things in this life that you simply can't do anything about. ---
[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)"
s_2415_116,I have found comfort in my sadness Strange feeling. I am so used to be like this that I have found comfort in my melancholy. Strange indeed. Not sure if I even want a happy and fulfilling life anymore.
s_1749_791,"I can't get any doctors to take me seriously or even listen. So I made a colorful flow chart out of spite. The last doctor I talked to (pain specialist) was like ""why do you want a diagnosis, would that make you feel better?"" and ""Sorry I don't have some kind of magical power that can fix you."" I'm not even kidding. She really said that. And she is a university doctor! 1. It would make me feel better if I were able to get proper treatment for the ailments that I have. I DIDN'T COME HERE BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FAIRY GODMOTHER! I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION YOU WERE A DOCTOR OF MEDICINE! And that is just the most recent doctors visit I have had the displeasure of experiencing. But it is a pretty good representation of the past dozen or so. All I want is for them to treat me like my illness is not somehow something I am managing to do to myself because I am a shitty person and actually treat me. It would also be wonderful if they even mildly respected my knowledge of my own body. I don't even know what to do now. I just can't get through to any of them. I told my pcp recently that I think I have POTS and she completely ignored me and continued asking me the same shit she does every time I see her and then telling me my diet is shitty and I need to exercise. Even though I am not even overweight. She also seems to be convinced that I have some kind of std despite the fact that I have had the same monogamous partner for a year and a half and haven't even had sex with him since I left home for treatment months ago. I'm also clearly not running around shooting up meth. Okay now I am just bitching. My point was that since doctors don't actually like to listen to people maybe I can get their attention with medical words and bright colors. So I made a very child like flow chart (it was going to look nicer but I was in a hurry). All my symptoms and traits are in green and connected to the corresponding condition. All of the conditions are related to the main one which is ehlers-danlos syndrome. One of my doctors knows I have it but doesn't give a shit to get me diagnosed. I figured if anything it puts things into perspective a bit. It's kinda dumb but I do plan to make a rheumatologist look at it. [Here is said masterpiece.](<URL>)
Don't laugh at me. I don't really care about anything anymore. EDIT: For the record I did see a psychiatrist at the University pain clinic and he seemed impress by how reasonable I am about everything and that I am actually knowledgeable about medacine and my own body. He thought all the ideas I had about treatment were good ones. So it's not like I'm not communicating with my doctors poorly. I am also at the point with my health that I would be relieved if it were some kind of horribly aggressive cancer. At least I would know the rest of my life would involve treatment rather than being told to fuck off."
s_2408_15,"My libido has certainly come back, but I'm sorry to report I'm happily married. Edit: I meant I'm *ecstatic* to report ;)"
s_2886_1,"Less depressed, but more suicidal? 2019-2020 goes down as the worst period of my life thus far. It's been a slow crawl, but I've reached a point where I cant really claim to be depressed anymore. It comes and goes, but majority of the days I'm ok with the occational good day here and there. For the most part, I'm back to where I was before this depressive episode hit. I almost hanged myself in the midst of my most hopeless despair about 6 months ago, then I had been in the shit for about 6 months all ready. That was an act of desperation. These days it seems I am actively planing my suicide, it's in the back of my head quite frequently. Like I said, I cant say that my mood is low nor is there any sort of intrusive and painfull things going on in my head, but for some reason I keep trying to convince myself that suicide is the only option left? Suicidal ideation has been a part of my cognetive pattern for many years, but it was passive, now it's crossing over to an urge. I dont quite know where my head is at right now, I just dont want anything anymore. It's not that I cant derive pleasure from anything so it's not anhedonia, but I just cant find any justification to keep going on with my life. It's a 'mercy killing'. This shit will come and go as it pleases for the unforseeable future, I dont want anything, I've lost all drive due to the depressive episode and I cant even posess the will to pick up the trail. This shit, my life, whatever it was has jumped the shark it seems. ' There's just nothing left for me here'. That keeps bouncing back and forth inside my skull. And I keep finding it harder to argue with. But again, I dont feel low, sad, hopeless or any particular uncomfortable thing associated with depression. Just some comforting acceptance that I will end it quite soon. It seems more like a rational conclusion rather than a desperate emotional act. I dont know what the hell is going on."
s_781_247,"Fear of failing. Ive dealt with the ups and downs of depression for over 20 years. But the last 6 or so months has been the most incredible roller coaster ride of emotions for me. From feeling absolutely rock bottom and ready to go to top of the world invincible. Early this year around the beginning of February I moved from Texas where I've lived 25+ years. A majority of my life. Currently 29. My gf at the time had kicked me out. Long story short, she was incredibly selfish and didnt have the time or patience to deal with someone with depression and anxiety. As I had no where else to go I ended up moving to Kansas to stay with my grandparents until I could get back on my feet. Ive had a few jobs while I've been here and it was never meant to be a permanant thing. There were weeks where I wanted to do nothing but lay in bed and just cry at what a failure I've been my entire life. Here I am almost 30 years old and I have practically nothing to show for it. Constantly thinking in the back of my mind it would be so much better to just give up. But I didnt. I only made one friend that I actually hung out with while I've been here and never had any intention of getting into a relationship with anyone until I got my self under control and moved on emotionally from my now ex gf. As of today, I havent spoken with my friend in a good month or two after we had a small falling out. I tried to make it clear that I wasnt looking for a relationship having moved here and was using this oppurtunity to work on myself get back on my feet and ready to move on from a broken relationship. That seemed to have backfired on me after we ended up sleeping together and I guess gave them the wrong idea. So I backed away and we havent spoken to each other since. My grandparents were kind enough to let me live with them for the good portion of this year and all I've managed to do is dig myself into hole after hole. They helped me get a car after I got a job. With the agreement that I keep up on my car payments and insurance. Ive fucked that up completely. When I first moved here I found a job working for a company I worked at back home. I got rides to and from work from my grandparents until I saved a bit of money to start looking for a car. My grandparents and I decided to go to carmax and get a reliable car riding on their good standing credit with them paying a decent down payment that I would repay them when I was able to. I soon left that job for a better job. About 3 months into the new job the stress started to get to me and I was having anxiety attacks at work lasting almost 3 hours. I had to leave. I got nothing but flak for quitting my job about how I shouldve found a job before leaving and so on. But the anxiety attacks stopped almost immediately after I left. My only thought at the time was Id rather get a little behind on bills than end up in the hospital for freaking out or something and hurting myself. After about 2 or 3 weeks of looking for a less stressful job and knowingly falling behind on my car payments I went and found a job working at Amazon here. Seeing as I had worked for them 2 years prior I knew I would have no trouble getting a job. But still my time was short. I had until the end of Sept to find a place to go regardless. It just seems like they wanted instant gratification and expected me to fix everything overnight. Even after I had explained no matter what approach I take it was going to take time and wasnt going to happen overnight. My grandma recently had to be hospitalized for a minor heart attack attributed to stress. Somehow I feel partly responsible and it makes me feel like a piece of shit. I gave my grandma a heart attack. But, I can honestly say the last 2 months I havent had one suicidal thought at all. Ive been in good spirits for the most part. I enjoy working at my job knowing my time was short and I would have to find somewhere to go. So here I am. Im moving this friday 3.5 hours away to the other side of Missouri to stay with someone I recently met. Someone who has shown me more love than all of the people in my life up to this point. I will have to find a job there as soon as I can. Behind on my bills. Very little money. With my grandma telling me if I miss one car payment I'm going to lose my car because she apparently cares more about her near perfect credit score than the well being of her eldest grandchild. Yet, I fear I am and will always be a failure. I fear I will never be in a place in my life where I am truly happy. No matter how hard I try or how far I get I fear Im always going to be held down and made to feel like nothing. The only thing I dont fear at this point is death. Which cant come soon enough."
s_2372_836,It is a casual game mode. I should not be punished at all.
s_2089_105,i do take them when needed like if i am more anxious than normal that day or if i feel like a panic attack is coming. I don't just pop them like when i wake up like a lot of people do with certain pills that you need to do everyday.
s_1404_1021,"can I ever get rid of my unrealistic desires? I want a girlfriend, I want to be rich, I want a good life Even though I know I can't achieve any of that. It keeps bothering me that I cant be happy with what I have. I have family and friends but I cant be happy because I have these unrealistic desires Will my unrealistic desires ever go away?"
s_2776_824,"I'm doing quite well, thanks for asking. Starting to get a bit tired, now, but I can go on a bit longer."
s_975_69,"I would like to think it came from how my mom raised me. She would belittle me growing up and all the things she did to me (and still do to me at 26) i thought were normal until i started seeing a therapist who made me see that my mom was abused me. It was the toughest thing to acknowledge because I never thought I went through abuse and finally being told that what i went through wasn't normal, i felt so much shame and anger. My mom is super controlling and manipulative and still scares the fuck out of me, and I'm 26. Every decision I've ever made she had a say. I thought that I should do whatever she said because she guilt tripped me all the time. I can't make decisions on my own without having an anxiety attack because of my mom and I'll always resent her for it. I think I'm worthless because that's what my mom always told me. I have so much to unlearn because of my mom."
s_2661_399,I need to declutter clothes! I have a ton of sweaters and shirts that I havent worn in years! I just need to spend some time and make decisions
s_1514_473,"We all love feeling scared, but it is possible to push it too far. I used to love feeling scared, but after what Ive seen, Im just permanently numb. My friends and I often played a self-scaring game where wed visit purportedly haunted locations at night, take pictures, move around in the dark, and try to embrace fear as deeply as possible. It was our way of getting an adrenaline rush; some people went skydiving and some people raced cars, but *we* purposely scared the hell out of ourselves. Gabby was the biggest fear junkie out of all of us. She was the one most interested in taking photographs too, as if she was intent on proving the supernatural actually existed. I didnt have the heart to tell her that I didnt actually think there was anything out there. Wed been to century-old hospitals where tuberculosis patients had died en masse. Wed stayed the night in horrible prisons with the lights off. Wed even gone up to a spot in the woods where it was rumored a mass murder had taken place in the eighteen hundreds. Through all that, wed never once seen anything out of the ordinary. Itd always been fun, though, so when the dealer at a college party offered me something new, I immediately thought of Gabby. She scoffed when I showed her the little circular dark blue pills. What the hell is *Remy?* Is that like Molly? No, I said, looking around the party to make sure nobody was watching us. My guy says it puts you in an REM dream state while still awake. Thats why its called Remy. Her wariness faded as she realized the implications. Is it safe? I grinned. I knew I had her interest. As safe as dreaming. She grabbed our friend Kurt and we were out the door without even saying goodbye to anyone else at the party. Practically salivating over the prospect of this new adventure, she rhetorically asked, Whats the scariest possible place around here? Kurt, the most reluctant of our trio, shook his head. If were really doing this Remy stuff, can we first try it somewhere normal? I dont want to freak out and get hurt or trapped or something. I nodded diplomatically. Gabby sighed. She looked up and down the orange-lit street, taking stock of the random scattered college kids on their way to and fro in the chilly night. How about here? Kurt asked. Like, in public? I didnt see anybody acting crazy. Before we could all agree, she took one of the several Id given her and downed it. Here goes nothing. Shrugging at Kurt, I took one, too, and he joined in with trepidation. Nothing happened at first, and, of course, Id forgotten to ask how long it would take to kick in. Should we walk? Lets go get sodas at the GetGo, Gabby suggested. Something about her sentence felt a little odd. Was it already starting to have an effect? I walked alongside my two friends, studying the orange streetlamps overhead and passersby in the distance. That was the curious thing about dreams: you could never quite tell when they began. You were simply and suddenly *there.* I turned and saw a thin blonde girl standing in a nearby yard. She waved me over. Whats up? Behind me, Kurt and Gabby turned to look at her, too. The more I looked at her, the more detail seemed to become clear: grey bottoms, a sweatshirt, a gaunt facewait, what? She shivered despite her warm clothes and asked, You got anything I can eat? Anything at all. I looked to Kurt, who shrugged and threw her an Altoid from his pocket. She caught it, gulped it down without chewing, sighed happilyand vanished. Im pretty sure all three of us screamed at the same time, more out of shock than fear. That triple scream seamlessly became laughter as we realized that the Remy was working. Wed all just dreamed a girl standing in a yard! Kurts Altoid sat in the grass, a tiny white speck in dark glimmering emerald. But I was still awake, and smart enough to realize that wed all seen the same thing. Did this drug also cause people to share the same waking dream? Or were we creating some false participatory memory? It was impossible to know, and our analytical abilities were deteriorating as the stoops and ramshackle undergraduate houses around us took on surreal qualities. Waking dreaming was its own class of crazy. With far more awareness than usual, I was able to see how my stream of consciousness constantly shaped and remolded everything around me. A house ahead grew taller, reminding me vaguely of an ancient Greek temple; it morphed into a weathered ancient Greek temple, reminding me of history and old things; it became a ruin, and then a house for medieval peasants, and then a booth from the Renaissance Fair. Only once I drew close enough to really focus did it stop changing and return to normal: dreams operated at the edge of consciousness, and direct concentration could dispel them. This is just cool, not scary, Gabby said, looking around with wonder. Her smile turned into an evil grin. She began walking faster. We kept up with her, and Kurt asked, Where are we going? Theres an abandoned house two blocks over. Lets break in and see how scared we can get. That definitely sounded like a plan. Traversing a mazelike landscape of sidewalks, asphalt, cars, and houses that kept constantly changing in shape, meaning, and scope, we nevertheless made decent progress straight toward our destination. We were still awake, after all, and there was always a long narrow tube of reality wherever I decided to focus my eyes and awareness. We kept lookout while Gabby bashed in a low rectangular basement window with a rock. We carefully slipped down in one by one. It was only after I stood and looked around that dark musty basement by dull indirect orange light that I realized I hadnt thought to look at the houses exterior. Id been too caught up in the shifting dreamscape to get a sense of what kind of building we were climbing into. The basement itself didnt look too strange. The grey dirt floor ran uniformly around the cramped space, and we investigated nooks and crannies among the stone foundations for a time by the light of our phones. Gabby said, excited. I followed her pointing finger to a *skull* partially buried in the grey dirt. Kurt laughed and poked it. It looks so real! Under our collective gazes, it turned into a half-buried teapot. Gabby looked positively hungry for more. Lets go upstairs. The creaking wood under our feet was oddly dark, and I put my phone light close, trying to figure out whybut the shades and *animation style* of the steps kept changing, as if I was watching a movie, and then a cartoon, and then a sketch, and then a comic. I fought down a wave of nausea and looked away, hoping that this trip wasnt about to turn bad. I froze at the top of the stairs. Four people stood withina woman at the sink, a man at the fridge, and two kids sitting at the kitchen table. They all stood unmoving and stared at the three of us blankly, likely too shocked to react. Kurt held up his hands. Oh my god, wrong house! Gabby stood between us, also warily still. I expected the father to call the cops, or the kids to scream, or the mother to angrily shoo us out of the housebut none of them moved. As always, Gabby was the first to suspect that something was wrong. She stepped to the side, at first just once, but then twice, and a third time. The family of four turned their heads and gazes to follow her, but none of them spoke a word or otherwise moved. What the hell is this? Kurt asked, gripping my upper arm tightly. The mother turned her gaze on him, her expression still blank. Dont swear, I whispered to him, keeping my eyes on the family while I slowly followed Gabby. There are children present
I didnt care *where* we were going, only that we were going *somewhere else.* As such, we were halfway up the next oddly darkened steps before I realized we were not heading for some sort of split-level exit. Gabbywe cant go upstairs! The people here
She turned and looked back at me. she whispered. This place burned down two months ago. I kept looking at her, but my thoughts went to the dark stairs and walls. They were blackened, I now understood, because they were charred. And the family in the kitchen
Kurts grip on my arm became painful. What the hells going on? Why am I dreaming of a family that died here? He looked up at both of us fiercely. * I didnt know about any dead family beforehand.* Its the dream state, Gabby said with visible excitement. We must be seeing things outside of normal perception! She turned and made a move down the second floor hallway. I caught her arm, and, for a moment, all of us were physically connected. Gab, if thats true, its time to go home. Study this until we know more. Are you kidding? She pulled away, breaking contact. What if its a one-time deal? An accident of timing and biology? These are the big leagues! This is what weve always looked for! She darted off, disappearing into the shifting darkness and shade of the surreal second floor hallway. Kurt let go too, fleeing the other directionback down the stairs. Im sorry, I just cant! Torn and suddenly alone, I watched Kurt swing around the charred bannister pole at the bottom of the stairs and run out of sightand then I turned to face the shifting and uncertain hallway. I had to believe Kurt would be alright, since he was heading for the front door. Gabby, on the other hand, was heading deeper into a place where the living very much did not belong. I stepped forward into a swaying sense of subtle dizziness that hung about the second floor proper, and it took a few moments before the slow back-and-forth and eerie creaking made sense. It felt like I was in the narrow hold of a boat. But on what ocean were we drifting? The phone in my hand had become a small torch burning with a dim white flame, and I held it before me as I cautiously opened the first door. It creaked horribly and then splintered away, too charred to function. A low rumble echoed through the hallway, and I slipped within the burnt room, feeling like Id just barely avoided some sort of gaze or awareness coming around a distant corner. I leaned back against the wall, breathing hard but quietly, telling myself that it was just a dreamand one that I'd had often, for that matter. Throughout much of my life, in dreams, Id fled that unhallowed awareness just around the corner, always diving for safety just before it learned of my existence. But now it was here. My breathing stilled as I finally cast my sight around the room. God, why dolls?! A good forty-odd eerie little dolls with charred faces sat littered about the faded pink room in various pieces, their eyes fixated on me from every angle. I stared, my pulse growing to a roar in my head until I was finally forced to breathe again, but they all seemed too damaged by the fire to move. And then, beyond thema soot-stained window that showed out only onto dark emerald fog. The subtle motion of our surreal ship became prominent in my limbs again, and I inched my way around the room to stare out through those darkened panes. Limitless black waters roiled just below, at about the height of the first floors ceiling. So it was just the second floor and above that were partially in another world, then I ducked down behind the bed, hiding among the glaring broken dolls, as the awareness in the hallway brushed past. It paused on the broken door, and perhaps even gazed in with some monstrous eye, but I dared not look. Satisfied that the room was empty, whatever it was out there finally moved on. I gave it a good long minute before I climbed back on my feet and crept out into the hallway. Where had it gone? The way backthe stairs downwere gone, replaced by a window onto green fog and dark waters. Gabby was the other direction, and I knew her well enough to skip the rest of the doors on the second floor. She would be heading straight for the attic. It was about that moment, staring at the slightly open door to another set of upward stairs, that I began feeling more clear-headed. Looking back, I saw two images, one fading, and one growing stronger: the horrible otherworldly hold I had crept down, and a gaping burnt shell of a house with no solid second floor to speak of. I stood on an overhanging ledge of charred wood which was physically unreachable from the stairs in the distance. Implicitly, I understood, in that moment, that I was not *just* dreaming: the dream state had actually let us tread into something deeper, some dark blister on reality that had bubbled and festered into its own little nightmare. And, in the real world, the attic door was closed and locked. Goddamnit, Gabby, I mutterednot that there was a choice, considering that I had no normal way down from my high and unstable location. I took another of the little circular dark blue pills from my pocket and swallowed it. I waited, breathless. The swaying and creaking returned rather quickly, and I began to lose sight of the real. Near my hand, the attic door was both closed and open, both closed and open, both closed and open and, then, just open. Set loose like a runner at the start line, I pulled it the rest of the way and sprinted up the steps, scared by how long Id left Gabby on her own. My white torch snuffed out as I moved straight up into a horizontal ceiling of absolute darkness that hovered level with the top of the attic stairs. I crouched to avoid nails that might be sticking down from the roof; the expansive space ran cool with drafts from the ocean air outside, and I used those drafts to inch along through the void. I felt melted plastic, soot, and charred wood with my fingers as I moved. This was still the burned-out attic. So why was it so impossibly dark? Gabbys whisper came from somewhere out in the abyss. * Hes here*
Id found her! I whispered back. *The older brother who set the fire*
I froze in the dark, taking in her meaning. She shrieked suddenly, and then I heard wood creak and motion erupt from somewhere ahead and to my right. Crawling forward and grimacing for fear of nails, I sought out the noises of struggle and managed to grasp her flailing hand. She knew it was me immediately, and pulled hard to escape something and crawl past me. I was too slow. Painfully hot fingers that held the texture of over-cooked hotdogs gripped my ankle, and my kicks did no damage to whatever my shoes were striking. A horrific stench hit my nose, barely preceding a charred corpse climbing on top of me. Grappling with the nightmarish arsonist, I fought with dreamlike strengththat is to say, none, for every hit felt like I was doing nothing at all. My efforts to fight back held no impact. The idea came to me in a flash out of my own fears. Instead of fighting off the unseen horror, I gripped his front and side and stood up as fast as I could. He groaned, gurgled, and convulsed, and foul-smelling goo hit my face from above. I didnt need to see him to know what Id done. Letting go, I moved away, free to leave now that he was pinned to the roof by dozens of jutting nails that had to be several inches long each. *Dont,* he choked out, audibly distraught. * Dont leave me here. Dont let it have me. Forgive me, let me go were almost there please you have no idea*
I ignored him. Gabby found my hand in the dark, and we crawled our way to some sort of exitbut it was not the stairs back down. We emerged through a small hatch onto the deck of the nightmare ship proper. Here, the green fog was thickest, lit only by a spectral glow from an unseen moon. Above us, a wooden platform rose to a crest, and, on that platform, a figure in silhouette stood at the wheel. That silhouettes head and shoulders shifted as it slowly turned to look at us, and I found myself unable to move at all no matter how hard I tried. The effort only produced a subtle dark blue static along the outlines of my limbs. We remained on our hands and knees. Two dark red points, like zero-dimensional rubies with endless depth, studied us for a moment. Were we going to die? Was it going to kill us? Who or what *was it?* Wed crawled through a dead familys unending nightmare and a child arsonists private hell to findwhat? The ruby eyes shifted away, facing ahead again, and I was suddenly able to move. It began to pointstraight ahead, at some distant approaching destination. The emerald fog around us roiled in a new breeze and began to slide away. I pulled Gabby back toward the hatch, but she resisted. Her eyes gleamed by spectral moonlight. Dont do it! I whispered, but she crawled out of my immediate grasp as I remained at the hatch back to the real world. She pulled out the handful of dark blue pills Id given herand downed them all in one determined gulp. I have to know. I screamed at her, but she clambered to her feet and began to ascend the lay of the ship toward that figure. I thought to go after her, still, even then, but I felt *it* coming in over the waves: that awareness, larger and closer than ever, no longer just a stalking shadow of itself, but real, present, and growing nearer. Every almost-encounter with it Id ever had in dreams had been nothing but avoiding the smallest sliver of that ultimate terror which lay ahead on this dark ocean. I knew then that if I had ever failed to avoid it knowing of me, that if I had ever gone around those dreamscape corners just a little bit slower and gotten *seen* in the utmost indescribable sense, I would have died in my sleepor worse. I was crying. I could actually see a shadow of the future in my mind, generated by my dream state. I could crawl back into that hatch and let Gabby find what shed been seeking ever since her parents had died, and nobody in my world would ever see her again. I would live the rest of my life wondering if she was suffering an unimaginable fate all alone inGod knew wherever this was. It was coming up over the waves. Heartbeats. We had mere moments. Screaming silently in my head, I abandoned my grip on that hatch and ran up the charred wood of that ghastly ship and tackled her. She struggled and bit and clawed at me, but I dragged her away. There was no time for going back the way wed come; a rising scream that shook the world reached a crescendo as the ship tilted up along a massive wave preceding the unknowable Beast. The waters were dark enough to hide us from its sight, and that would have to be enough. With an instinctual prayer expressed by a leap of my heart in my chest, I pulled her over the side with me, and we plunged down into the icy pitch
and through it, down onto hard autumn-chilled grass, where her leg snapped like a twig and my arm shattered in four places. Of course, we could never truly explain to anyone why wed jumped from the roof of that burnt-out house. Kurt swore that his pill had worn off by the time he saw us fall out of thin air; I did my best to convince him it was the last effect of his dream state. My pills I ground up underneath my shoe while I painfully waited for the ambulance to arrive. I sat by her side in the hospital, at least as much as they let me. With no parents and no family, I was her emergency contact, and the confused doctor explained that he honestly had no idea what was wrong with her. She was unresponsive and wouldnt wake up, but, unlike a coma patient, her brain activity was constantly very high. Coma patients never experienced REM sleep almost by definition, but she was *always* in it, and exhibiting signs of extreme stress besides. Hed never seen anything like it. But I knew what it was. Id only saved her body. Shed overdosed on dreams and fear, and the rest of her was still there in that nightmare layer of reality. What she might have found, Ill never know, but I no longer enjoy fear. Ive seen where it comes from; nearly touched its source directly, nearly had it become aware of *me* personally in returnand I have absolutely no desire to go back there before I see Death a second time and he drags me kicking and screaming into its inescapable maw."
s_653_29,"Whoa, the island analogy is spot on. I have done the same thing, but there are only two islands: work island, which Q could give a rat's ass about what is going on over there, and home island in which Q is a neverending category 4 hurricane, destroying everything I have worked hard to sustain. When I try to repair and rebuild, he just tears it all down again. gt;I felt angry and resentful. I understood why so many people choose to isolate: you cant keep with a double life, when you hate one of them. And I hated my life with an active alcoholic. This sums it up perfectly. The isolation and hating life with an active Q is so real."
s_1488_204,"Very difficult for me to understand how some people can believe depression has to look a certain way. I am and have always been a very neat and tidy person. Cleaning takes my mind off of thoughts Id rather not have. I have a clean appearance, I shower twice a day, I like to look presentable when Im out and about. Youd never know that I have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder. Youd never know that I have suicidal thoughts. Youd never know the daily struggles I have in my head. To label someone based on their appearance from a photo could be quite misleading. I didnt know I wasnt allowed to have good days."
s_891_630,really feel like i'm gonna cry right now. Gonna go down from the saltyness of the comment.
s_2761_275,Where do you guys work? I'm going through jobs cuz I can't focus. I'm good at math and writing but the details get me. I found a job I thought was a good fit but I'm not sure if it's going to work out now and I'm only 2-3 months into it. Where do you guys work that works with your ptsd? Thanks in advance
s_257_602,"The number one goal is definitely improvement. I guess I find it hard because I really enjoy video games, and when I've tried out other stuff it hasn't given me the same satisfaction as gaming. I went out and tried rock climbing at a local place, but I really couldn't get into it and it was pretty boring. Tried DnD, which I thought would be a good fit considering my background, but I didn't like that either. Part of it could be the fact that I'm suffering from depression, which I just got diagnosed with last week. They've got me on some supplements now + I'm starting psychotherapy next week, so hopefully I can start to get this worked out."
s_762_102,After my most recent breakup that tore me apart I was diagnosed with depression and panic disorder. Everyone always told me the same thing that itll get better. I dont see it ever getting better because the one thing that made me happy is gone. After my heartbreak I lost interest in everything too and gave up on a Lot of stuff. Its so hard stay strong
s_284_50,I can only blame myself. I'm seeing the movie tomorrow. Then I'll know for sure whether I should have watched all those videos or not.
s_2402_918,I've just been diagnosed with it again. I haven't had it for 3 years. I'm dissapointed in myself.
s_321_122,"is it bad that i wanna feel numb? its just that i cant bare to always drag this sadness with me and i know for sure that it wont go away for a while (cuz for that to happen i would have to change my whole personality) so i would just be better of feeling nothing. Im not suicidal, i just dont wanna feel anymore, its exhausting that my brain keeps coming back to these self-destructive thoughts again and again, and (i am honestly ashamed to admit this because i dont wanna belittle anyones problems and i dont wanna come of ignorant) but when i read all these post about being numb i wish i could be that..."
s_1499_927,"I spent so long fighting to protect myself and my sister from my parents. Now that I've been free a while I realize I have no f*cking clue what to do about it. I'm in a Target parking lot with no clue what to do. Brief history: myself (25F) and my sister (22F) were raised by a pair of bipolar Ns who frequently switched between being and and Es. Both were on and off medication for mental health issues. I have always been fiercely protective of my younger sister, even though I was the SG and she was the GC and she didn't get picked on much. My parents would get violent but the second they raised a hand to my sister, I physically got in the way. Outwardly we were a great family - active in Girl Scouts and school stuff, super smart kids with a penchant for troublemaking, all very friendly, etc. Our parents worked in tandem - they'd egg each other on. We had many recoveries and relapses that therapy could not fix. Four and a half years ago my parents divorced and I moved in with the guy I'm about to marry. My parents are both still flaming Ns but I don't have to deal with them more than once a month (my mom) or three times a year (my dad, who replaced our family with a nearly-identical-to-us set of sisters and a single mother three hours away). Even after all that crap though, during my childhood my family was very close. We didn't have any cousins or anything so it was just us. We were poor most times and we stuck together, even if it was actually painful. I can't believe I fucking miss that. I miss my family. I miss my violent bipolar emotionally abusive mother and my aggressive opioid addicted father. I miss the good times - the camping trips between phases and the Disneyland days. Over the past four years I've held multiple jobs (nanny, personal assistant, cook, waitress, admin assistant, freelance artist, etc.) My current job is the longest I've ever held, at 9 months going on 10. I'm a nanny right now and I generally like what I do, even if my stress levels prevent me from being better at it. I live with my fianc in a tiny one bedroom apartment in the same city I grew up in. Nothing is changing for me. I don't want to go back to school, I don't want a desk job, I don't want to do anything. I feel like the constant encouragement then eventual tear down of any of my goals when I was younger has killed any dreams I've had. ("" I want to write for a magazine!"" My mom said. "" Except you'll be miserable and it's not a real job and it's too hard to get a job in that field"", she said.) I rarely see my family anymore, my sister and I see each other every few weeks and text maybe once a week. My fianc and I don't have many friends and we're about to start counseling (which I'm actually excited about) to fix some communication issues. We don't do much - he's overly financially conservative. We're actually going on a vacation I basically just booked and told him about, that I'm excited about. I'm partially disabled (degenerative spinal condition; no cure but mine is progressing very slowly which is cool). The littlest girl I nanny for asked me ""what are snails even trying to do?"". I'm that snail right now. I'm a snail in a target parking lot wondering what the fuck happened that made me realize I have no direction in life. I have become such a boring person. I am bored. I am tired. And I don't even have a reason to be tired because I don't do anything. I used to write, and I used to write well. I have nine half-finished novels on my laptop that I'm too ashamed to even open. I was basically just given a free pass to go to Target and go shopping because I had a really rough day at work - was late to pick up the kids, who were then misbehaving. I accidentally took their van keys home with me so had to drive half an hour back, then another half hour back to this stupid Target. I could get home in four minutes but what's the fucking point? And anyway, all I bought was Shampoo (I was out) and face wash (also out). I, the girl who can stress shop her way around ten Targets, couldn't be bothered to enjoy anything. So I guess I'll drive home. I still don't know what I'm going to do with my life but at least I don't need to go to a therapist to have the revelation that my parents completely destroyed my psyche."
s_2625_5,"I'm taking 50mg of sertraline which is a fairly low dose. I started out at 25mg, they increased me to 50mg and I started seeing improvements. I started on medication and decided to stick with it because I wanted to pass my semester. I had previously dropped out of school and I really wanted to finish my degree. I experience a lot of classroom anxiety so I would avoid going to class. On the sertraline, boom, anxiety in the classroom gone. It took me about 3 months to get to that point - so give your medication time to work. I had no weight gain on the medication at all. In fact, it has probably helped my eating habits because I used to binge eat when I was very depressed. I have since stopped doing that. The side effects I do experience are issues acheiving orgasm. Possible TMI but last time I attempted an orgasm it took me 45 minutes! I still experience sexual satisfaction with my partner but I have just accepted that it will be more difficult for me now. I also experienced mild nausea when I first started taking the pills but that went away within a week. My advice - stick with it. SSRIs need a few months to kick in. But they gave me that little boost. I still struggle with depression - it isn't a magic cure all - but it seriously helped me. Go with what your doctor recommends."
s_114_969,"The only reason I posted this is because the world that they wish for. Is the current one that tortures me that I had to live in. I ended up with emotional trauma before, and had low self esteem. I spent years to fight for my freedom."
s_3045_69,"Vyvanse 50mg was the first medication I ever tried. It remains my favorite. It allows for smooth focusing, a pleasant amount of energy, and has a pretty steady release throughout the day. I took it for six months and found that it remained effective throughout that time and I only built up a mild tolerance to it. Unfortunately, when I switched my insurance policy, it became too expensive. Concerta was the next option. I was on 18mg per day. I do not like Concerta and would not personally recommend it, but ADHD manifests differently in everyone, and subsequently, so do its medications. I like to explain my experience with Concerta by saying that Vyvanse allowed me to pleasantly focus on one or two tasks at a given time, whereas Concerta made me feel like I needed to focus on a dozen tasks at a given time. Its release throughout the day had too harsh of a peak-and-trough effect. I have comorbid hypersomnia in addition to my ADHD, and so I also rely on stimulants to keep me awake. I was on it for two months and found that when it wasn't working, I was dead tired. When it was working, I felt nearly manic. Adderall XR 20mg was the next attempt. It worked pretty well, but because of my aforementioned hypersomnia, I found that once I came down around 6-7 hours after taking it, I would abruptly burn out for the day. I was on this for only one month. Aaaand finally, I'm currently on Adderall IR (immediate release) 20mg, twice a day. This seems to work pretty well for me. I take one when I wake up around 9 AM, and another around 2 PM. I still prefer Vyvanse, only because Adderall has a harsher comedown for me. I find that at the end of the day, I become very irritable. I describe it to my boyfriend as a kind of ""sensory overload"" feeling where I need very little stimulation, or else I'll become agitated. But it does help me to focus on a couple of major tasks at a time without feeling too overwhelmed, and it gives a nice boost of energy that I need to get out of bed in the morning and make it through class."
s_1404_48,"Need advice, my online friend deleted his discord and instagram because of my stupid actions and I wanna be friends with him again, what should I do? Short version of the story: we have been very close friends for half a year. A month ago I took the wrong medicine which made my mental issues and selfcontrol ALOT worse. I said horrible things to my friend, for literally no reason because he didn't make me mad or anything. I just completely lost my sanity, which I still blame the medicines and mental issues for. I was not myself at all. So what I did was being transphobic towards him (he is trans) and fatshaming him too. I didn't mean any of what I said, because as I just mentioned, I was not sane, I was not myself. He blocked me and a few days later he deleted his accounts. I am still in contact with one of his friends, but he refuses to bring us in contact with eachother. I also might be able to find his real life friends and classmates, based on real life information I have about him. Should I try hard to find him in real life so I can use his real life friends to get in contact with him? Should I keep trying to convince that one friend to bring me in contact with him? Should I try to find other ways to contact him? I REALLY want to apologize to him and to have this friendship back. I have dreams about him and I cry sometimes. I miss him because he was one of my closest friends. What should I do?"
s_3001_8,"No worries Im slightly younger but I am feeling the same way. I feel like a waste of space, a burden, and just someone who makes everyones life worse. Ive been called worse things by my parents and I just hate myself for it. But think of life like a boxer, and youre its opponent. Life can knock you down, dont stay down, keep getting back up, as long as youre doing something other than doing nothing, then life will never beat you down permanently."
s_2815_1567,"Licks from a Bear *August 1, 2015, 9:00am*
Its been exactly one year since Jen left. That means its been one year and one day since I was fired. I havent worked since. I used to like the idea of being on disability; free money and all the time in the world to spend with her. I guess she didnt think of it that way. She was always ambitious. I shouldnt say was. Every day I see Facebook updates detailing her constant successes. The most recent one was her engagement. Id never seen her look so happy. I guess I knew things with us were going downhill when I looked forward to our fights. Shed always say something about how Im so smart - that I was smarter than she, in fact - but that I had no ambition. It felt so good to hear that someone as brilliant as Jen thought I was smart, even though she yelled it at me in frustration. She claimed she understood my depression and my anxiety and how they were terrible roadblocks on the path to my happiness. I thought that meant she could empathize and still wanted to be with me anyway. Apparently I was wrong. Getting disability benefits for my depression wasnt too hard. The money isnt great, but it pays the rent and keeps me fed. The only pain is that I have to go to therapy every week. I also need to go to monthly appointments to pick up prescriptions to help combat my depression, ADHD, and anxiety. Its all so procedural and detached from anything resembling real care. So Im a lonely, unemployable loser who apparently has this great mind thats utterly useless. But I wont stay like this forever. Ive discovered a something new. Well, something old, actually. Today begins my new life. The medication never worked, the therapy never worked, the behavior changes never worked. Medicine failed me. Or maybe I failed medicine. Either way, Im taking control of myself again. Im not going to be a victim of the barriers my bodys put up for me. No more attention problems. No more depression. No more anxiety. For the first time in what may be decades, Im filled with hope. *August 1, 2015, 3:00pm*
All my tools are cleaned and ready. In about an hour, Ill start. I need to keep a pretty comprehensive journal of the procedure to make sure Im not harming myself. I figure a running account of my experiences will give evidence of the positive (or negative) changes in both my mood and cognitive abilities. *August 1, 2015, 4:05pm*
After I traced a dime-sized circle on the upper-right part of my forehead, I used an Exacto knife to carve through the skin. I wasnt prepared for how much this was going to hurt. I stopped a couple times to wipe away the tears so I could see well enough to continue. The skin lifted off from the bone without too much trouble once Id finished cutting. I flushed it down the toilet. Now Im waiting for the bleeding to stop - it seems to be slowing already. Its so weird to see my skull exposed like this. Im going to write a sentence or two before and after each of the next steps so I can get as good a description as possible if this all works as well as Im hoping. I opted to use a tiny drill bit over a single large one. A ring of tiny holes is going to take a hell of a lot longer, but I think the need for precision dwarfs time consumption in this case. Im about to do the first hole. The first hole is done. Imagine the feeling of biting down on a fist-sized piece of tinfoil as hard as you possibly can while your head hums like its filled with buzzing hornets. The vibration was so excruciating that Im only now feeling the pain of the drill site itself. Im going to do the next ten or so holes now before I lose my nerve. The vibrations became less intense with each hole. The bone pain got much worse, though. Ive never had migraines, but I assume they must feel something like this. Im shining a light at the ring of tiny bores and doing my best to inspect whats behind them in the mirror. Its not very useful. The remaining structural elements between the holes are extremely thin and brittle-looking. Im going to cut them away with the wirecutters. I just dropped a circle of my skull into the sink. Now Im looking at the bright red membrane thats covering my brain. Im a little surprised by how many blood vessels are in there. Im going to put out a couple more towels. Cutting away the membrane is the part Im most scared of. Its done and the hole is bleeding a *lot*. Im taking extra care to not put too much pressure on the organ itself when Im working to soak up the blood. Im feeling a little dizzy so while I hold the towel to the hole, Im sitting and eating the piece of steak and drinking the orange juice Id put out just in case this happened. The wound is slowly starting to clot while I wait here. The whole area hurts, but the pain is second to the strong pulsing sensation around the hole. Its almost like I have a second heart beating there. The blood stopped pouring out and Im cleaning the area with water and rubbing alcohol. Now I can see my brain. It doesnt look like it even belongs to me; I dont know why it all feels so surreal. Its almost like Im watching all this happen to someone else. On the plus side, Im not dizzy anymore, but Im exhausted. Im going to bandage everything and go to bed. Ill clean up tomorrow. *August 2, 2015, 6:30am*
I woke up this morning with more energy and drive than Ive ever felt. Even sitting here writing this feels like a joy; Im not struggling to find words, Im not dreading how Ill reread what Ive written and think its stupid and pointless -- everything just.works. The accounts Id read about people who shared their experiences with trepanation made similar claims, but even as I drilled the holes I never allowed myself to truly believe it would work for me. Even now, Im worried its all just a placebo effect. The pulsating feeling is real, though, and its as strong as ever. That was something else my fellow trepanned mentioned. They said it was because the body is letting the brain grow again; something the skull had prevented after it hardened following infancy. I dont know if I buy the explanation, but I cant deny whats happening here. *August 2, 2015, 2:00pm*
My days been spent cleaning the apartment. Over the last year, Id let things pile up and grow increasingly filthy as my depression festered. Today, its like a veil has been lifted and light is pouring over everything I lay my eyes on. The place needed to be cleaned, so I just set to work and cleaned it. It looks better now than it did when Jen and I moved in. My therapist recommended that I clean quite a while ago, suggesting that a nice, open area would really help me see my home as a place for potential, rather than stagnation. Now I know what he meant. This is what potential feels like. The hole in my head still hurts and it looks terrible, but I expected as much. If I go out, I can wear a hat and no one will notice anything amiss. Im not ready to do that, though. Im mildly concerned about how badly the site is beginning to itch as it heals. Im being extremely assiduous in cleaning and caring for the wound as it heals, but I guess part of that process is that damn itch. Im doing my best not to think about it. *August 2, 2015, 11:30pm*
The first full day of my experiment is about to end. Im about to go to sleep, and I feel like Ive accomplished a lot today. My home is spotless, Ive finished a short story Id been working on for the last couple months, Ive gotten up to date with my internet and utility bills, and I even did a couple sets of push-ups. I had to remind myself to eat, though. For whatever reason, I wasnt hungry at all until I realized it was nearly 9pm and I hadnt eaten all day. Im chalking it up to my excitement. Its been hard to contain. But, now Im all showered and pajamaed and ready to end my day. I cant wait for tomorrow. *August 3, 2015, 5:45am*
I was up before my alarm this morning to watch the sun rise from the roof of the apartment. Last night I slept like a log and didnt wake up once. I noticed some blood on my pillow and under my fingernails, though, and I think I may have scratched underneath the bandage while I slept. I made a beeline to the bathroom to inspect the hole and, thankfully, I didnt seem to do any damage. Everything appears to be healing well. *August 3, 2015, 1:15pm*
I dont know if its endorphins wearing off or just an artefact of my depression, but my euphoric feeling has diminished quite a bit since this morning. Im thinking it might be both; maybe I need to have a good meal. There should be something in the fridge. *August 3, 2015, 9:00pm*
Whatever I felt this afternoon doesnt seem to have been a fluke. While my mood elevated for a little while after lunch, I was back to near-baseline for the rest of the day and evening. The pulsing in the hole waxes and wanes with my mood, interestingly enough. When Im happy and ambitious, it pulses a lot. When Im depressed, it may pulse once every ten seconds. It may have something to do with my blood pressure, so Ill keep an eye on that. Before bed, Ill do some jumping-jacks and see if the pulsing returns. Im fairly certain a higher pulse rate correlates with a better mindset. Just did the exercise. The pulsing is the same. My heartrate is up, but my mood is still low. Im going to bed. *August 4, 2015, 11:00am*
I just woke up and I feel terrible. I was scratching the hole again. The pillow is soaked with blood and there are remnants of scabs under my fingernails. Tonight Ill wear gloves. That aside, my mood is still right near where it was before I started this process. Im worried the surface area of my brain thats exposed isnt large enough to allow long-lasting effects. I dont trust myself to widen the hole thats already there, but Im prepared to do another one an inch or so away. *August 4, 2015, 12:30pm*
There was a problem with the second hole. I did everything just like the last time, but on the last tiny borehole a crack formed in the skull between the original hole and the new site. I had to peel back the skin Id left to make sure, but it was definitely there. I was forced to decide whether or not I should leave the broken piece, and I opted against it. Now I have an oval thats about 3 inches long and 1 inch wide. Removing the membrane from this part was difficult and I had a minor issue with the blade slipping deeper than Id wanted. Thankfully, the brain has no pain receptors. It couldnt have gone more than half an inch inside and nothing weird happened to my body so I lucked out and hit part of the 90% they say we dont use. I know people are saying thats a myth, but with what just happened to me there must be some truth to it. *August 5, 2015, 8:00am*
No scratching overnight. The pulsing is there but its nowhere near as strong as it was the first time. My mood is still low. I have to be honest with myself here: I feel like a failure. This whole experiment is another example of me setting out to do something with good intentions and having it all blow up in my face. But, *but*, Im not going to be defeated by it. In the past, I wouldve stopped, Jen wouldve started a fight with me, and Id just add it to the never ending cascade of fuckups that form my identity. Not this time, though. The increase in my ambition from this treatment must still be going strong, because Im determined to see it all through. *August 5, 2015, 8:00pm*
There are four more holes in my head. I didnt think Id be able to do it. Toward the end of the last one, I almost passed out. Im glad I had the foresight to keep a few sugar packets nearby so I could regain the strength to finish up. Besides the issue with my dizziness, these four went better than the prior two. I used the left and right sides of my head this time, right above my ears. The skull was *far* thinner than on my forehead, so the vibration of the drill wasnt as excruciating. The blood-loss was significantly greater, though, which explains the desire to pass out. I have hand towels wrapped around my head so I wont get blood all over the place. Lucky for me, Im a pretty quick clotter. Thats a funny word. *August 6, 2015, 6:10am*
I slept sitting up and awoke to *major* pulsing not just in the new holes, but in the old ones as well. A small problems developed with the second hole, though. I think it might be getting infected. The itching is unbearable and I think it might be starting to smell. I poured rubbing alcohol on all the sides and pressed it in with clean towels, so hopefully thatll stop whatevers breeding in there. My mood was pretty high. Still not as good as the first day, but much better than the days after. Ive been thinking about Jen a lot. We had so many things in common. We loved talking about animals and used to go off on tangents where wed discuss all the exotic ones wed have when we were rich. Her favorite ones were rhinos. Mine were hippos. I used to tell her about the lake wed have in our backyard where my pygmy hippo would play with her baby rhino. After theyd gotten tired out, wed invite them up to the patio where theyd curl up next to one another while we gazed adoringly at them and at each other. I wonder how shed feel knowing Ive been doing all this work to better myself. Shed probably tell me to do more. *August 7, 2015, 12:35pm*
I did more. All day yesterday, I drilled. I drilled and cut and pulled and peeled. I feel like I can take on the world; its almost like that one time I did cocaine in college, but the effect has lasted far longer. Ill update again today if I have to, but for now, Im going to work on some of my stories. *August 9, 2015, 9:00am*
Where have I been? Since the other day, Ive gotten down 100 pages of a story I never even knew I had in me. Reading it over is like Im looking at the work of someone else. Someone far, far better. A stranger, I guess. On a slightly less pleasant note, theres definitely an infection in a few holes. One of them is weeping a gray liquid that smells terrible and all of them itch. When I rub them with the towel to try to scratch, they break open and start either bleeding or leaking clear fluid. I figure its like a cold that has to run its course, but Ill be damned if it isnt becoming a problem nearly as bad as the depression was. *August 10, 2015, 7:40am*
I scratched in my sleep. I dont know what else to say other than it was bad. Its hard to tell from what I see in the mirror, but I might have damaged some of my brain in the holes of my forehead and left side. A small piece is hanging by a thread that looks like a tiny blood vessel. I tried to tuck it back under the lip of skull, but I had to press pretty hard to do it and Im worried I messed it up even worse. At least I saw a bear today. *August 15, 2015, 4:15pm*
More holes for me. Shaved my head. No more hair, lots more holes. Remember those wiffle balls from when we were kids? One day Ill tell Jen how I thought my head looked like a wiffle ball. She always liked baseball and playing with my hair. My head infection was getting real bad before the bear came. Now he licks my head while I sleep and keeps the gross stuff out. Jen loves bears. Bears and rhinos. Every morning I have to clean under my fingernails a lot. Petting the bear gets them real dirty. Its nice the bear shaved when I did so I didnt have to feel like the odd man out. Those pulses in my head are nice and strong all the time. It feels good. The bear licks me a lot when I sleep. *Augs 16, 2015 5000*
Scratch the bear by his ears andhe licks lots and lots. Lots of licks means a lot less itching. Jen would scratch my back when it was itchy. One time she saw me triing to scratch between my shoulders using the door frame. She called me a bear because thats what bears do when there back itches. 60 holes, going to cut out the spaces in between. Make my bear proud if Jen cant be. <URL>"
s_993_582,Wasted holidays and leave time on binge-watching stupid kdramas. Now feeling suicidal and worthless. Didn't get anything done on my to-do list. This is normal cycle for me. I panic and procrastinate . I bingewatch stuff passively. Meanwhile deadlines come closer and I can't breathe. I panic and feel suicidal. I promise to never do it again but do it again regardless. Hope someday I will be able to break this vicious cycle.
s_8_898,"u/rollerex I know the internet makes us seem like strangers and not real people with real abilities for conversation and kindness, but I can provide just those things and truly whenever and always. I know it seems like life cannot and shouldn't go on anymore, but this dark period will not last, there will be better days ahead I truly believe that. Don't put any pressure on yourself either, no person is naturally ready for this type of situation, and thankfully there's always therapists and other professionals that can help you. Not sure if you have steam either or anything, but if you want a friend to game with also im always here. Life will get better, I'm sorry your wife was suffering so much and im so sorry now you are in so much pain, im here, really"
s_2089_80,"i assume your a guy. how old are you? seems like a situation like me when i was referred to PM from my regular doc. she had meset up 120 yellow norcos a month for a couple years so i thought i'd be getting stepped up since I was being referred. She even told me I'd get something better. First thing when I walk in the head dudes office. He reads my papers and his eyes just buldge out "" you've been talking all this norco for how long?!?!?!"" ""Why?!?!?"" So I immediately knew I was over with ever getting narcotics again. It was the worst feeling of my life actually. I tried to hold in not crying. He sent a note to my regular doc no more narcotics and that is that. fuck that fucking guy. The reason why I shared my story is that I feel its very similar to yours where I was doing good, felt comfy at my prescription and didn't feel like it would ever be taken away since my doc I'd been with for 10 years and was almost family to me. So when I went to see her after the meeting with top scumbag at PM she just basically told me she has to adhere to whatever he says since he's a higher up. Just so pissed man, one minute I had my doctor telling me that once I'm on PM they will bump me up to something better that Norco the next minute I am prescriptionless."
s_697_17,"I dont want to wake I feel blank. Im so sad that I just feel blank. I have absolutely no motivation and nothing to look forward to. All my days just feel like they are all one and the more time goes by the more pointless my life seems. The only reason I remain alive is for my father, I cant imagine the hurt he would go through by losing me. Its been exhausting living for other people. Im so sick and tired of hearing people tell me itll be okay or itll get better, they have no power or control, they dont actually know if itll get better more than likely it wont. I just want it all to end. They say that killing yourself is so pathetic and unfair to the people you leave behind hurting and that its selfish but how is it not selfish of them to want you to remain only for their comfort or for them not to hurt, how is that not selfish? I used to love being outside looking at the endless sky, in my mind I know its beautiful but I dont see it the same, I dont feel it to be beautiful anymore. Once you stare and know that everything on the earth will eventually die, it all just seems so sad and pointless. I am so exhausted. I wish it would just end."
s_2884_57,"i graduated uni long time ago. i remember in my senior year i suddenly realised that i didn't know what i want to do and don't have practical skill. i cried and cried. i accepted the first job that was offered to me without thinking, my school mate introduced me. didn't even need to submit resume. decades later i still don't know what i want to do lol. through out, an average rank and file staff. clerical jobs. i'm not ambitious person but the jobs are unstable and thus stressed me out. i wish i had iron rice bowl job."
s_1232_21,"Dear Redditors, I want to commit suicide. How do I go about it?"
s_156_188,"First off I am so sorry for your loss. I know how hard a loss of a loved one can be especially during these times. Second I 100% know how you feel about the mental toll of Covid! I am way more irritable, angrier, less patient, etc! I hope you feel better soon and again I am so sorry for your loss."
s_1673_492,Provigil (modafinil) is an alertness agent so it will keep you awake but it doesn't really give you much in the way of energy. The upside is it doesn't work on the central nervous system so many of the classical side effects of standard stimulants aren't present. My fatigue isn't that bad any more and so I find it does what I need. I personally don't notice much of a crash but you're mileage may vary. From what I've heard Nuvigil (armodafinil) has more of a cognitive effect than Provigil but I can't speak from experience.
s_272_23,"Dear Friend. I dont necessarily feel exactly like you. But like you, i am challenged by day to day motions. I am unhappy with myself because of comparisons. We live in a society where the next best thing is promoted. We live in a time where being depressed is frowned upon. My doctor once explained depression like wearing sunglasses. A lot of is see the world differently and it is ok. We all have different circumstances to deal with. I am currently rereading The Art of Living by Epictitus. It is a stoic philosophy about accepting who we are and focusing on the things in our own control. I am challenged with the fact that i have memory/data recollection issues. It makes me sad because i am surrounded by people having interesting conversations all the time, and growing from them, while i feel like i stuck. I do have a very high EQ which is emotional intelligence. I am extremely sensitive to the point where other peoples vibration effect me and i dont know what is mine or somebody elses. I know i am very loved by the people around me and am always told i give the best hugs. I compliment people as much as i can because i want to believe that my purpose in life is to feel these things. To understand life from a darker more complex view but still be the most loving, kind, and caring person possible. Yet, here i find myself. Distrought. Wishing i had it different. But i cant allow myself to plummet. I have support but sometimes it is not enough, because nobody knows exactly what kind of shit i deal with. It is nice knowing that others are out there with similar views and distresses, but the personal challenges will always be there. All i can say to you. Is that you are normal. We are all normal. Life in the world is all go go go! But we need to sit back, power down a little, and accept who we are for what we are. It may not get better, because life around us isnt going to stop. But i hope we can find that spark inside of us that allows us to be content with ourselves. Keep your chin up. Know that you are loved."
s_2993_509,"She knows about my mental health and the meds but I think she fails to realize how bad it's affecting me. I've been trying to take the meds regularly to see if they will really help but before when I was on it I was on a much higher dose and two different ones, now I'm just on one and a lower dosage so idk how much help it will be. My therapist dumped me and the psychiatrist doesn't care much, I've talked to her video once and phone once and that's about it, in maybe a year's time. I lack the motivation and shit to help myself much and I've tried reaching out for help, but it hasn't worked out too well. I could try with the pain doc, I've kinda tried but she don't seem to get it either. We need more people with real life experiences at least helping. I've avoided everything that will make me go thru wds outta fear and she just tells me oh just wait until they start and then wait some more and then see if the subs won't give you pwds like they have the other times I've tried them. All she says is I know it's easier said, exactly. But I'm not blaming them nor mad at them, it's mainly my fault for being stupid and weak minded. I kinda know what her next suggestion might be and I'm not sure if I can pull that off either which is go to hospital. I'm going to try a little more to figure out wtf is wrong with me, but idk how long cause I'm just torturing myself. Something is trying to keep me here but it seems like to only punish me so I don't see the point. At least in the meantime I will look forward to hearing back from you. I'm thinking I may need to lessen the time I spend on here cause it just makes me feel more stupid and weak seeing how so many people can do it or try and I keep failing. I don't like that feeling and don't wanna be the Debbie Downer yk?"
s_3003_261,"I'm also quite pessimistic by nature, but hope still gets me every time. How do you not get hopeful as the DPO days pass by?"
s_258_118,I took some left over Xanax and feel a little more calm now. Thank you for your advice . The feelings still there; I still feel useless. Im still having crying spells but they dont feel as intense as before . I appreciate your response- its like a reminder that I have to fight against my thinking . Thank you .
s_1978_1068,"When I'm having a good day and feeling great, I talk myself down anyway and by night I slip back into this depressed state. I hate myself. It's like I'm just too used to being depressed and sometimes it just feels more... comfortable. Like being happy and normal is an effort for me. I don't want to feel like that. Why does happiness come so easily to everyone else? Why do I have to try? Why do I have to lean on this stupid green pill like a crutch? What happens if I just stop taking it every morning? Do I just go back? All the ""progress"" I've made, does it just disappear? I'm so angry and frustrated because I can see myself hurting people that are important to me. I just want someone to understand. I hate this. I want to be better."
s_1808_19,"How can I increase my confidence, overcome social anxoety, and not give a fuck about what people think of me? I have social anxiety and low self-esteem, and I want to get rid of it. while I've gotten better at it, I'm not at the point where I can just go to random people and start a conversation
my confidence is low and my self-esteem is also low. 2 things seem to contribute to this
1. I'm working on it, but it takes time. my weight has always been something I'm self-conscious about. I mean, why the hell would a girl want to have anything to do with some nerdy fat guy. even if I'm just trying to make friends with other guys I feel self-conscious about it. I'm always worried about other people seeing me as being 'fat' and nothing else
2. I seem to always compare myself to other people. I don't know why it happens, it just does. I sometimes wish I was as successful as other people, and I really wish I was confident and loved myself like everyone else seems to be. I wish I could overcome my social anxiety and be able to post my success story here like others
I'll also admit too, I don't like myself because of these faults and I have trouble loving myself, and many people even say I'm too hard on myself
my last year of college begins in one month, and when I move in I want to be confident enough to go meet all the new people in my dorm, knock on peoples doors and start conversations, and just not give a fuck about what people think of me. any advice on trying to achieve this goal and to just get rid of my social anxiety or I.prove self esteem is appreciated"
s_785_198,"I'm not commenting so much on sex as I am on finding an intimate relationship. Sure, sex is probably overrated, but I don't want a relationship solely for sex. To get someone of the opposite sex to want to be intimate with you is one of THE most important traits of being viewed as a functional person. People couldn't give two shits if you think you're alright for not having ever had an intimate relationship as it implies that there's something wrong with you, and people don't like that; they don't like someone like that hanging around them. If you are just looking to get your dick wet, it shouldn't be that difficult, but will still require effort. Make sure you present yourself hygienically, lower your standards and go to a gathering of similarly aged people and start talking to women, not just the stereotypically pretty or cute ones. Talk to everyone. If women see you blowing off the less attractive, plain ones...and then see you only chatting up the attractive ones, you're gonna be seen as an asshole. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, big fella: Ugly people, like normal/good looking people, don't like other ugly people. Just because someone's physically unattractive, doesn't mean they're going to be attracted to similarly unattractive people, and unlike said normal-looking people, I don't subscribe to the vitriolic delusions they feed themselves about 'loving someone for their personality'.*(Top fucking kek.)* I know a homely girl isn't going to be attracted to me and she knows I'm not going to be attracted to her. That's just how it is. I subject myself to nature, and nature is cruelly just. The reality of the situation is that there must be someone to fill in the opposite end of the bell curve regarding intimacy and those people are, generally, physically unattractive (disregarding the disabled/deformed). I am one such person, and no amount of ""talk to everyone"" will fix the fact that the sperm that happened to develop into me also carried certain genes that lead to facial unattractiveness/shortness. It's not my fault, it's not your fault, it's not anyone's fault--it's just how things are. In the worst case scenario, I accept my painful fate of isolation and loneliness with grim determination. In the best case scenario, I kill myself. That's just how life is,eh?"
s_3066_185,Crying right now...reading reddit through tears...
s_2401_11,I can sit in one place for a day and do nothing. I cant concentrate at anything. This is affecting my life and school horribly. My mother gaslighting me every second of the day doesnt really help.
s_2080_1337,My sadness is immeasurable and my day is ruined.
s_881_87,"My name is Yoshikage Kira. I'm 33 years old. My house is in the northeast section of Morioh, where all the villas are, and I am not married. I work as an employee for the Kame Yu department stores, and I get home every day by 8 PM at the latest. I don't eat meat, but I occasionally drink. I'm in bed by 11 PM, and make sure I get eight hours of sleep, no matter what. After having a glass of warm soy milk and doing about twenty minutes of stretches before going to bed, I usually have no problems sleeping until morning. Just like a baby, I wake up without any fatigue or stress in the morning. I was told there were no issues at my last check-up. I'm trying to explain that I'm a person who wishes to live a vegan life. I take care not to trouble myself with any enemies, like winning and losing, that would cause me to lose sleep at night. That is how I deal with society, and I know that is what brings me happiness. Although, if I were to fight I wouldn't lose to anyone."
s_666_13,"Im in therapy currently amp; yes it is free but its also rare to be able to see a therapist for longer then 3 months. The system is so broken amp; causing more problems. The pressure just comes from me wanting to be fair/loving to him and I guess I do have their belief that if I dont perform well enough hell get tired of waiting for me. This isnt something hes ever said, but hes great at what he does in the bedroom and hes like the perfect partner so maybe I just feel like Im not worthy of him. I did have a terrible experience on the flight because I hate flying but Ive been so excited to make this move with him amp; its just very bittersweet. I have tried meditation a few times and will give it another shot tmrw, I think I may have ADHD thou because focusing seems impossible."
s_2593_536,I really hate myself
s_1609_878,"Expectations. I'm a fourteen-year-old girl who just started high school and is pursuing a career in musical theatre. I'm just going to say this right now, I'm not some sort of Rachel Barry (Berry?) wanna-be or some sort of YouTube singer that has no talent or real aspiration, just looking for fame and money, no. I've been aspiring toward the theatres of Broadway since I can remember and I don't want any sort of fame or money. I just want to sing and be heard. And yes, I liked it before it was cool, and I'm fully aware that makes me sound like a hipster. Anyway, like I said, I just started high school, but I have all the expectation piled on me. Honestly and truthfully, I'm good. Some might say great or amazing, but I'm not trying to brag, I'm just letting you know. Because of this, I'm expected to be amazing and inspirational and all that, but I'm not. My mother expects me to get perfect grades, my sister expects me to get the lead in the musical as a freshman, my entire choir expects me to be perfect and on top of my game every day and never make a mistake and they think it's okay to put all the attention on me sometimes when it makes me uncomfortable (because come one, it's a choir), and it goes on and on and on. I can't handle it. I know my limits and my abilities, but noone else does. I'm supposed to be perfect. When I make an achievement, noone cares because it's expected. When I break down, it's just not okay, I'm supposed to handle all of this. When I make a bad grade, my mother tells me that I won't get into college. When I make a good one, it doesn't affect her. I, honest to God, got a 101% in French (granted, it's only the first half of the first quarter), but she was unimpressed because the rest of my grades weren't quite there. They're all B's and A's, and again: I. Just. I'm breaking down. When I was twelve, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. All of my friends had abandoned me for a dumb reason I'm not willing to get into and my parents thought I didn't need help. Every time I reached out to someone for help, they thought I was lying, or be overly-dramatic. I had three failed suicide attempts. ( Note: I AM NOT CURRENTLY SUICIDAL. THIS WAS A YEAR AND A HALF AGO.) Finally, my principal caught wind of my situation somehow and decided to suspend me until I got medical help. ( Just saying, she's a bitch. Never, ever force anyone with a mental problem to get help against their will.) I went to a therapist, I went to the hospital. My parents were in shock. They thought I could handle my own problems. They didn't realize my mom not being there and my dad's abusive, alcoholic, depressive behavior had rubbed off on me. They still don't. They blame everything all on my own inability to take care of myself. I got out three days before my thirteenth birthday. Now here I am, going down a scary path again. The only friends I can get right now and mean to me, selfish, and expect me to be perfect, my parents are ignoring me, and I have all these.... expectations. I'm not okay. I want to self injure again, I'm inclined to take pain killers (I'm not doing these things, nor do I plan to. Just inclined. I have self-control.), I'm lonely, I'm sad...
I'm not perfect. Well, I guess that's all I really have to say. Thanks for listening to me ramble about myself. I really appreciate it."
s_2292_225,"I can't live my life. No matter what I do with my time, there's at least a 50/50 chance that I'll have a panic attack. I need help. Normally, people who struggle with emotional stability (and can't stay happy) are told to do the things that they enjoy the very most when they start to feel under the weather psychologically, but my level of emotional sensitivity doesn't allow me to do that without often traumatic results. If anything at all goes wrong, it can and will ruin my mood at the moment, for the day, or even for the week. If a video-game session doesn't go exactly like I wanted, if the pizza I ordered isn't made the way I had hoped, if I want to play with my cat and she bites me because she wants to be left alone... things like these (mostly, but not always) make me want to crawl in a hole and cry, as if something tragic had happened. Living life for me is like tip-toeing around a field of landmines everywhere I go, which makes me want to do the only thing I know won't set off my anxiety-- lay in bed, in the dark, and do absolutely nothing. This, by the way, is with the help of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication. Which seem like it will turn into a pipe dream soon, since I have no health insurance and can't afford any since I'm unemployed. I have no idea how to manage this. I always see the ""Breathe"" disclaimer at the top of this page, but it rarely feels like everything will be fine if I just relax and take deep breaths. I feel like bursting into tears 24 hours a day (since even if I *don't* have a good reason for feeling like shit, my brain decides to do so just for the hell of it), and I wish I knew how to deal with it other than my current solution that involves complete cessation of activity."
s_2130_202,I'm like super excited to be alive right now. Which is why I thinkI'm losing my mind. I mean like at 2 I was all sad thinking cutting was a good idea. And Tuesday I wanted to die. And then in between Tuesday and Wednesday it felt like I could fix everything. And now I feel the same. Not normal for me. And then what if tomorrow I want to die. What if this keeps happening. I'm usually just depressed.
s_2606_671,"I got the flu and had similar symptoms. My muscles were really achey and my skin hurt to touch. I was really exhausted but couldn't get comfortable or sleep properly, waking up several times in the night. I was a bit restless. I think I also got a cold while I had the flu, and got really phlegmy. I got a really bad cough and it wouldn't go away. After two weeks of this, and occasionally coughing so hard I threw up a few times, I got some antibiotics. They helped a bit but it didn't just disappear. I got sick in around June and feel about 95% of my healthy self. Cough is still slightly lingering though. I think I just need more sleep."
s_1255_131,"MtF HRT - My energy is low after 6 weeks on a starting dose. Will my energy improve once my levels are up to a normal range? I started on Cypro and Estradiol 6 weeks ago, 12.5 mg and 1mg respectively, as a starter dose. This is to see if I experience any side effects and then we can raise my dose if I'm feeling okay. I was working really hard to be healthy at the start. I am on a fairly strict diet to make sure I'm eating enough and healthily (while still losing weight at a reasonable rate). I was doing cardio every day. I stopped smoking and drinking. The last couple weeks I've found myself really tired. It's hard for me to motivate myself to exercise and I'm spending more time in bed napping. I think that my hormone levels are really low because my dosage is really low. Did anyone else experience this on a starting dose? And if so, did their energy levels go back up once they were on a bigger dose? My appointment to raise my dose is in 2 days. I want to tell my nurse that I feel great because I want her to give me a higher dose. And that's mostly true, I just don't like being tired all the time, and... I'm really frustrated waiting for changes to take place. I know that I have to wait longer, I understand what the effects timelines look like, but actually waiting is agonizing. I was planning not to come out until I had been on hormones for a while, but I got forced out in July while still on the wait list at my clinic. Coming out ended up going better than I expected, but it also means that I don't have the HRT lead time that I wanted. I know that I'm a woman with all my heart but I can't help but feel some of the creeping 'imposter syndrome' and its a little draining. Like what if I never look like I want to, what if people can always tell, what if the difficulties associated with being visibly trans outweigh the benefits of transitioning. I just want to know the hormones are working. I'm sorry, that turned into a bit of a rant. ** My question is this: For those who experienced a lower energy level on low doses of HRT, did your energy levels improve upon raising your doses?** Edit: Grammar."
s_1899_431,"when I first started taking lexapro i had NO appetite and my metabolism sped up, like seriously. But that lasted like a week and now i have no side effects...except for when i drink too much I can become realllly anxious! Ihope it works out for you, because I know that my life has becoming soo much better with it :)
If you have any questions, feel free to PM me!"
s_2460_876,"Ok, so I'll preface this by saying - I'm by no means no longer overweight or no longer unfit. But for the first time in my life, I'm on my way there. Sorry for the wall of text. So I've been a fatty fatty boombalatty for my entire adult life. Lots of cognitive dissonance and ignorance towards health caused my situation. At the start of this year, I was 285 lbs as a 5""10 27 yo male. 3 months ago I decided enough was enough. So I did something about it, I did my research and came to realise that **WEIGHT LOSS IS EASY**. It's so simple, I was wondering why I ever convinced myself otherwise. ** Calories in vs calories out**. That's it. No fads, no pills and believe it or not; no exercise required. ( definitely recommended though. Diet is for weight loss; exercise is for health). I did my calculations, I saw what my daily calorie expenditure was and I started eating under that magic number every day. I quit drinking and started being a little bit more active. Wouldn't you know it, after 1 week of this I lose almost 4 pounds. Fucking magic right? I think where most people fail is by seeing this as a *diet*. Diet implies a temporary change to allow you to go back to your original lifestyle - **this is why diets fail**. Your lifestyle needs to change **forever**. Another fairly common assumption is that you can no longer enjoy the foods you currently enjoy and you have to eat nothing but 'healthy foods'. ** This is total and complete bullshit**. My diet has not change all that much, I just eat less. Now saying all of that, you do want to add more balance to your diet. So definitely eat more fruit and vegetables - but don't think you need to have a dinner which consists of a plate of lettuce. That's just silly. You know what my favourite dinner is? A nice juicy porter house steak with a side of pasta salad and salad/veges. For me that's around a <PHONE> calorie meal and christ is it tasty. Once you get your food intake undercontroll, you'd be surprised at how this affects your life. A better diet means better sleep which means better energy, which actually makes you **want** to exercise. Crazy right? As I said, it's been 3 months and I've lost 33 pounds. If I can do it, you can do it. Don't be like me and make excuses. You know what you're doing is unhealthy and you're never going to change unless you do the work. Please also check out /r/fitness, /r/progresspics and /r/loseit. These subreddits are **fucking incredible**, who says the internet has to be a support-less and judgmental hellhole. Edit: it looks like someone is auto downvoting people who're saying diet is more important than exercise. Some people like being in their ignorance bubbles."
s_2727_535,"Me too, I wish I reread more books, and there are a couple that I do go back to over the years (The Hobbit, Jane Eyre, a book I read as a teen that meant a lot to me) but for the most part I just see that as time I could be spending on new titles. As with everything, I feel guilty about it :p"
s_2024_230,"Been thinking about suicide more and more each day, I dunno why i'm here i guess i cant really talk to my friends or family about stuff like this, i've been selfish enough lately with the depression and stuff anyway, this isn't an attention thing i guess i just don't want to be this unhappy anymore, i want to be happy and full of joy not feeling like this all day everyday it really sucks and i just don't want to be alive anymore, this isn't life this is no life at all. i just want to die"
s_439_20,"I don't really know what happened between me and my wife either which is the part my problem. We had our issues, both together and separate but I'm general I thought we were pretty happy. Or at least OK. So, I was pretty blindsided by her announcement that she wanted a divorce. There wasn't anything drastic that happened before her decision either. No big fights, no infidelity (at least on my part) and she refuses to discuss with me what made her decide. So, yeah. I don't know. It might be easier to focus on something obvious that went wrong (or maybe not, I don't know) but I don't have that so I keep ending up at 'I'm the something wrong'
Right now my kids are about the only reason I haven't killed myself. But I have to wonder how good of a parent I am and can continue to be feeling the way I do. I used to have good times and bad times but since about December it's been all bad. Even when I was feeling a little better after my discharge I still wasn't happy. Wouldn't they be better off without growing up with a super depressed father? I just can't find any hope that things will improve and that sucks."
s_2035_82,"DAE feel extra emotional after quitting smoking? I feel like instead of reaching for a cigarette (when Im upset) and calming down, I am faced with my feelings now. After a very emotional day Im realizing how much smoking helped me bury my feelings. I have cried so much today and I havent cried in a long time. Im wondering if its related to quitting smoking, not having that Dopamine hit."
s_3009_334,"I became insecure and low in confidence. It felt as if any decision I made was the wrong choice. Whether it was over something trivial or big. Even as an adult, I'm hesitant about making big decisions, I'm 24 now and about to sign contracts for a mortgage. Other relatives have told me that he's been telling everyone that I won't be able to 'cope' with it. My Father is very lazy and hasn't achieved much in life. The house that he, my Mother and youngest brother live in is owned by my maternal grandmother.. He's also not working due to 'health problems'. So I think that maybe he's a little envious and that's why he's always putting me down now that he can't control my actions. It's very frustrating as a child because all children want to do is make their parents proud. I was so eager to please and yet every decision I made for myself was the wrong one. Even for work placement week at school, I 'apparently' chose the wrong thing and he guilt tripped me in to doing an activity that I didn't want to do, oh and I struggled like hell with it. So thanx Dad lol. Don't get me wrong I know my Father isn't the worst Father out there but he certainly isn't up for Dad of the year award."
s_993_613,Well that's true too. Sometimes it depresses me that I can't do basic things like other people. But not showing up makes me feel lot worse than that. I am trying to be kind to myself. Because that's the only thing that I can do. Also I think my meds are helping me. I am able to fight these negative self critical thoughts. But there are bad days too where I hate to live a sub-par life due to this illness. Anyway to each their own I guess.
s_2958_98,"Yeah it definitely feels like a fog, and it makes it difficult to connect to other people. I haven't always been this way, because I can remember having my emotions flow normally. When I sit down and think and try to relax I have an easier time identifying how I'm feeling and becoming grounded in the moment, but it takes conscious effort."
s_452_784,"Would you consider this book YA or New Adult (or even just Adult)? So the story's about a little girl from a screwed up family whose childhood friend commits suicide. Over the course of the book she goes from 7 to late twenties, although for the bulk of the book she's 9 to 23. It's first person from her perspective, and the prose is in the style of middle grade fiction. No drugs, no sex. Text Samples (age 9):
Halfway through the fourth grade, Mrs. Schwaltz gave us a math assignment. Its going to be a little harder than what you are used to, she warned us, so you can find a partner and work together. I glanced over at Justin, since he had always been my partner for previous projects. Justin continued to watch the teacher. Once Mrs. Schwaltz gave the okay, the other students began partnering up. I stayed at my desk, my eyes fixated on the back of Justins head. Now hell have to talk to me, I thought to myself. Instead, Justin turned to the Kevin Vazquez. Hey Kevin, wanna be my partner? Sure, said Kevin Vazquez. I felt a slight twang of pain inside. Second text sample (main character in late twenties):
My aunt sighed. Why cant you just be happy with what you have, Emilia? Why do you have to search for shortcomings? I wondered why she expected me to turn out any differently. Just look how far youve come in the past six years, my aunt continued. Look how much you have grown as a person. I thought about it. I felt guilty. Why guilty? I think of Justin. He needed help like I did, only no one was there to help him. My aunt sighed. Justins suicide opened your mothers eyes. She realize that it was possible for a child to suffer depression and she needed to see things from your perspective. The term made me angry. He was twenty-three. How was he a child? Anyway, the reason I really need to know is because my current word count is fine for YA (58k), a bit low for New Adult, and too low for Adult. It's completely readable for both a teen and an adult."
s_1476_3,"Rare syndrome took me from happy kid to depressed teenager When I just turned thirteen I was diagnosed with Merycism, the involuntary regurgitation of food. Slowly I became worse and worse as I was handed off from doctor to doctor, all of them having no idea what to do. I lost 40 pounds from an already-healthy frame and became severely underweight. ( Still am in fact.) All my hunger cues disappeared, my enjoyment of anything disappeared and my brain became anorexic before I ended up in the hospital with a feeding tube. Don't feel better at all since then. I'm coming very close to treatment and I don't even know what the point is anymore. I used to have hobbies, things I was good at, now all I do is browse the Internet all day. I have two people I talk to on a regular basis, only one I know in real life, and the other one thinks I'm someone totally different from who I really am. I'm also scared to go out in public because my body reacts like an anorexic's to weight gain and makes my stomach distorted (which is the reason I'm avoiding it right now even though I'm still dangerously low). I'm tired of being sick. I want the old me back. He has to be in there somewhere. I'm fourteen and I feel like I've gone through all the happiness in my life."
s_2415_102,"Hey I am depressed and having a rough life. I realize people don't really care but I just need to speak to someone from time to time. Sorry it bothers you, it bothers me as well. It's just that sometimes if I don't reach out I feel like killing myself. I'd take professional help but that costs money. I don't have it. I can get a job but some days I am so depressed it's hard to even go out. It's a vicious cycle. Apologies for being depressed."
s_2822_443,Bought 50 shares and 4 call contracts yesterday. Trying to not kill myself.
s_2139_45,"I actually feel you. I procrastinate alot. But I also have many symptoms of ADHD but dont want to bother my doctor about it lol because he diagnosed me with major depressive disorder last month and I dont want him to think im just making up illnesses now. But I have shown signs of ADHD since I was a child but was never tested. It is affecting me though. Like I cant concentrate well, am either unfocused or so focused I dont see whats around me. I always have to ask people to repeat what they were saying and when alot is going on around me I feel weird. I also replay words in my head or one inage I might have saw. I am also restless. So its alot."
s_2035_984,"I feel your frustration. Im fairly convinced that my husband has low T too. Its the same as you describe. Sex is fast and unsatisfying, doesnt try too hard to please me anymore, not much foreplay. Hes always tired too. He reassures me its not me, its him and he just needs to get in better shape. Hes just not doing much about it either. I cry sometimes too. Once he said hes tired of me making him feel like shit about it. So...DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!! I totally get it. Makes me want to scream!"
s_1942_20,This week is destroying me I am so fucking burnt out and emotionally and mentally exhausted. 7 nights of 14-15 hour shifts overnight in the MICU... I am so exhausted. This toxic culture of overwork needs to stop. I am so frustrated that as docs we just let this happen without any pushback - patients are more complicated now then back in the day - also back in the day people used cocaine to work arduous hours - I cannot believe the ACGME will look at a crackhead to create the 80 hr work week (which I am violating by the way - it ends up becoming 102 hrs).... In European countries the maximum is 48 hours. I fucking hate capitalism and thank god the economy is finally going to collapse (supply chain dying out and fed interest rates are so low yet the economy is barely holding up) so we can start society anew
s_3028_518,"My OCD Story (A Journey into Scrupulosity) *Warning: Wall of text post here, but this is my story
I think a part of me died about six years ago. I could not tell you what happened in January 2009 that caused me to start hearing what I thought were voices in my head. I do remember the hours I would spend obsessing over what these voices said to me. I do remember the pain I felt when I butchered one of my ritualistic phrases and said that I ""worship the devil"" on accident. I do remember how I begged God and pleaded for Him to have mercy on my soul. The only thing I wanted was my sanity. --------
The voices did not stop. After awhile, the hope that was alive inside my body died. There was no place for me to confide. My parents emotionally abandoned me as a child. I always knew they were there for me when I needed to be controlled. If I ever forgot the rules, I knew they would remind me. As far as dealing with the wounds that life gave me, I was on my own. I stood alone. I stood in silence. I stood as a seventeen year-old boy who thought he was schizophrenic. I knew those voices were after me. I knew those demons were trying to kill my soul. I started waking up in the middle of the night because I needed to complete my rituals; I needed to defend myself from those voices. There were nights when I would toss and turn in my bed, begging for peace. I felt as if my soul was on fire. I was screaming through the flames and there was no one there to rescue me. There was no place for me to run. There was no way to escape my mind. ------
There was also no one for me to confess. There was no comfort for me. Here I was, left in this wilderness alone. I knew time was coming to an end, soon. I believed Jesus was coming back soon. It could be any day now. I did not understand why I had to lose my sanity and my salvation, this close to the end of the world. I tried to do everything right: follow all of the rules, go to Sunday school, love my neighbor, all of the Christian mannerisms. I did not know why God was mad at me, but I knew He was done with me. I accepted this as my hell bound fate and continued to wander the wilderness. --------
After four years of hiding in shame and suffering, I finally came out and told one of my close friends I thought I was schizophrenic. He encouraged me to go to the school counseling office at my university. I learned a significant amount about my past during that time, however, I did not admit the ""voices"" I was hearing. After I started to lose my sanity more and my symptoms became harder to hide, I decided to see a cognitive behavioral therapist. I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Depression. ---------
When most people think of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, they often depict the man who cannot leave his house until he touches his doorknob three times. Some of my most common obsessions include contamination, doubting, and checking. The following are examples of my thoughts: ""I left the door unlocked and someone is going to break into my house and steal my valuables. Did I turn the iron off? I left the iron on and now my house is going to burn down. Did I run over someone while I was driving? I hope this person burns in Hell"" I could list many other disturbing thoughts, but I am often ashamed to admit these thoughts. Initially, I thought these were the demonic voices I was hearing. These violent, twisted thoughts were extremely contradictory to my normal thought pattern. I knew the thoughts could not belong to me. As I began to learn about OCD, I knew it was the disease that plagued my life. My OCD began with scrupulosity and has manifested into many forms of OCD. No one understands OCD's toll on life quality: all I wanted was peace, however, reality became hell. I feel damned. ---------
After all of the things that have changed in my life, nothing was the same. I have lost a part of me in this wilderness: hope. I have stopped hoping for things to get better. I have stopped hoping for my prayers to be answered. I stopped asking God to heal me from this disease. I stopped asking God to take me back. I was forced to grow up in this wilderness. I emerged as a new man and I don't know if I will ever reclaim my previous sense of self. I cannot allow myself to hope again; hope hurts too much. Ahh, you think darkness is your ally? I was born in it, molded by it. I didn't see the light until I was already a man, by then it was nothing to me but blinding. --The Dark Knight Rises"
s_1160_162,"Draining, maybe Just sitting on my bed here doing nothing, feeling nothing, having no interest in anything. I looked back through my old picture albums and saw pictures of myself smiling, with a sense of hollowness in my eyes. Or just me being dead af. I feel sad for myself for being through this much. Or maybe I'll shower, clean my room, eat, and just rest because that's what I deserve. I'm not super upset about not getting work done, I'm just sick of the low mood and not having interest in shit Also there's just so many new posts every now and then on this sub lol"
s_1077_1321,"How do you cure broken sleep rhythm and chronic insomnia? My insomnia began 15 years as a teen when it became a habit to sleep during the evening, and i slept very good but very badly during the night. Now, i never feel rested in the morning even if i slept 8-9 hours during the night, and it takes a long time to fall asleep."
s_1808_10,"[NeedAdvice] How do I overcome boredom? life seems pointless, dont have the motivation or discipline to do anything this entire summer break from college I've done nothing every day except for sitting on my laptop playing video games and other forms of escapism like reading reddit. other than the days where I go to work (which is in a small warehouse by myself) and going to the gym to do the elliptical for 10 min every day (my small goal to do everyday) life seems boring and pointless
I want life to be more exciting and filled with more than just video games and reading. but I don't know what to do, I don't have any friends nearby, dont have much money, and when I do get an idea (like go to a bar) I don't do it because I'm scared. any time I do try to do something, I feel like I don't have the energy and I just go lay in my bed reading reddit from my phone. what can I do to overcome this boredom? what can I do to get myself motivated and going?"
s_1937_101,"My passion for art is fading and I dont know how to get it back I hope everyone is having a nice day/night. I (18F) have been an artist my entire life, its so ingrained into my personality that I have no idea what Id be doing if I didnt draw. I always thought that Id get better as I got older and feel more inspired, but Ive hit a roadblock and I feel like my improvement is coming to a standstill. I feel no motivation to draw and I havent made a piece Im really proud of in months. I would love to try to take a break, but Im in art school and my classes are always forcing me to constantly pump out new projects that I hate. I compare myself to my peers and I feel like Im just getting worse. I feel so lost."
s_1404_1173,"How can I do social things without thinking about women? I literally have no other reason for doing social activities than finding love. I hate parties, I hate socializing with strangers, I'm an introvert. I like being alone. Except for the idea of having a girlfriend. I want a girlfriend but besides that I just wanna be alone and relax in my free time. I have 2 friends in real life but I rarely speak to them because as I said i'm just not a social person. If I ever do social activities it would only be for finding women. You are telling me to do something impossible now. And the whole point of my post is that I don't have time and energy for those social activities."
s_1194_55,does anyone else feel like restlessness sometimes sometimes i get this weird feeling of like restleness craziness and i just wanna like do something ? and i cant really distract myself i just feel so like energetic for no reason and i hate it cuz nothing makes the feeling goes away its like somethings missing and u have to do something
s_3075_134,"I feel like I'm having a meltdown, I'm breaking down more crying and angry outbursts. I don't want to see anyone but I'm so lonely and paranoid I can't trust anyone, no one understands that when I get asked what's wrong I literally don't have a reason to be like this I want it to stop."
s_376_139,"I get what you're saying, and perhaps I'm being too harsh, let me explain further. I know I probably would have failed School cert, I certainly failed NCEA. I know I'm not a fucking idiot as I'm not doing too badly in the game of life, but to fail and have beside the failure ""Did not achieve"" was insulting to say the least. I mean look at HTC for what happens everyone keeps telling them: ""You tried your best, and that's ok"" in relation to the M8. then they think mediocrity is acceptable, and release the M9. Then everyone blasts them for not being creative enough to produce a new device. Does that make sense?"
s_132_7,"gt; For me, realizing that helped me get to the root of my problem rather than piling more and more unnecessary baggage on top of the core issue. The guilt I feel for my own feeling is overwhelming - but they are just my feelings. I'm coming to not just realise that, but accept them as part of me. Thank you x"
s_2089_107,Well I don't take it everyday. Usually if I am about to have a panic attack or if I'm really anxious
s_2815_1435,"Slough, Part 2 of 2 [(Part 1 of 2)](<URL>)
**March 12, 2015**
*5:15pm*
As much as I thought I had to, I wasnt ready to go into the village just yet. There were things I needed to do back in the lab. Annie and Jared obviously arent healthy and Im worried about how safe they are around one another. I remembered GeneMedica had supplied us with three bottles of Laphroaig 30 to use in celebration if we had any breakthroughs. So, I did what any self-respecting scientist would do: got my fellow researchers blackout drunk and locked them in their respective rooms with a fresh bottle to call their own. Then I called Rakesh. He seemed more freaked out than I was. Hed known Jared for 20 years; apparently hes in a 25+ year monogamous relationship with his partner, and, to directly quote Rakesh, gayer than gayer than gay. Rakesh agreed with me that stranger things have happened than two people pairing off when stuck in a bad situation, but with everything else going on - the spore eruption, the skin lesions, the pain/pleasure rewiring, and whatever the hell was happening to the villagers - it was impossible to say it was just a situational fling. He commended me for figuring out how to keep Jared and Annie safe, then he told me to get my ass into the village and take notes. I have a sinking feeling its going to be really, really ugly. *Update @ 8:00pm*
Its hard to form a coherent narrative when youve been traumatized. At the same time, its easy to recall the details of that which traumatized you. The first things I noticed, upon leaving the lab and starting the 100-or-so yard walk to the village, were the bird feathers. They were raining from the trees and blowing in the weak wind. I couldnt make out much through the thick canopy, but I could see one bird very clearly. It was perched on a branch nearest the trunk and vigorously rubbing its body against the bark. Once one side was denuded of feathers, it started on the other until the same result was achieved. Then it leapt from the branch and flew in a bizarre, insect-like trajectory that didnt seem to be going anywhere in particular. It went out of sight before I could learn what was happening to it. A dog ran out from the general direction of the village and stopped in front of me. Its fur was mangy and the visible flesh was punctured or rotted away. Its tail wagged furiously and its ears were up, making it look incredibly happy despite the painful-looking condition of its skin. I reached out to pat its head, and it obliged, pushing its snout and head against my palm very hard; almost as if itd never felt the touch of a person before. It ground its skull against my hand and I felt something slide. I recoiled and pulled back. The skin stuck to my gloved hand as I pulled, tearing the fur and flesh from its head. The dog, with blood trickling down its face and its tail still wagging, stared at me and began to eat itself off my glove. I didnt shoo it away. I didnt know what to do at all, aside from continuing my walk to the circle of huts. With each step, the details of the natives, who still swarmed in the center of their village, became apparent. I can only describe their activity as an orgy. Every conceivable pairing was demonstrated, all the way up groups as large of six. Most sickening to me, aside from the atrocious and seemingly-indiscriminate disparities in the ages of the participants, were the injuries. Every person had terrible damage to their skin. It appeared to be the same as what Annie and Jared are dealing with, but most of the villagers were much worse off; likely due to their constant and frenetic activity with one another. They paid me no attention as I walked through their midst. Every so often, Id come across a corpse. Each had profoundly-disfiguring damage to them. While I know some of it was the result the fungal spores effect, a good portion was clearly from the action of another person. This was verified when I saw a young man in the crowd, a rictus of pleasure etched across his face, having his entire back flayed open by his partner. The man gasped with clear delight, his nudity making obvious the arousal he felt despite the terrible injury. His partner pressed his face into the wound and planted tender kissed on the exposed ribs. There were more acts like that, but theyve all blurred together. Im exhausted and overwhelmed. I called Rakesh once I got back and while he expressed eympathy for what I saw, he insisted on the importance of documenting the behavior and progress of those affected by the spore cloud. I promised him Id do a better job tomorrow if I was able to get any sleep tonight. I checked on Annie and Jared; both were snoring. Their skin looked worse, though. Im not sure what to do. Rakesh assured me that by tomorrow evening theyll be able to get a helicopter to us. When I asked about where itd land, he told me not to worry about it. So Ill do my best. Im going to get drunk and try to fall asleep. **March 13th, 2015**
*6:15am*
Before I went to sleep last night, I bound Jared and Annie to their beds. It was something Rakesh suggested and I eventually decided it would be for the best. I could deal with them being pissed at me as long as they didnt hurt themselves while we waited for the helicopter. Apparently ours would be the first of a few; theres a medical helicopter scheduled to come in minutes after were taken out. While Im really happy the villagers will get medical attention, it absolutely sucks so many of them will be either dead or terribly disfigured. If wed been able to figure out the workings of that massive underground fungus, we might have been able to prevent this from happening. Im heading down to the village again. Im bringing my voice recorder so I can document enough detail to make Rakesh happy. Im not going to transcribe it all, but Ill put what I feel are the most important parts in this journal. *Update @ 12:00pm*
What I saw yesterday was paradise when compared to the devastation and depravity I was forced to observe today. Rakesh, I wish you hadnt asked me to do this. I understand why you needed me to, but Im not the same person I was a few days ago as a result. Theres just nothing I can express other than sadness and terror. Well, maybe one thing. Theres a tiny, tiny bit of solace in the fact those affected by the spores dont appear to be in pain. But the other side of that is how they gleefully destroyed their fellow villagers. People who were entirely innocent. People who, even as I write this, continue to scream with impossible ecstasy as theyre torn apart. So Rakesh, you asked for details, so here. Choke on them. * Woman, woman, man grouping. Severe skin deterioration among all three. Severe mutilation of the mans genitals. All that appears to remain is approximately 5 inches of his urethra, which is being stretched and pulled by both women. Each woman takes turns performing oral sex on the remains of the mans genitals. The smaller woman, when not occupied with the man, had created holes in the larger womans thighs, into which she thrusts her fingers and tongue. All participants in these acts express joy. * Man, boy grouping. The dead man is on his back in the dirt while the boy sits in the gashed crater of the mans belly. The boy is laughing and pulling out loops of the mans intestines. Every so often, the boy will duck his head into the dead mans stomach cavity and move around, as if trying to swim. He then erupts upward, reminding me of a dolphin leaping out of the water, before settling back down in the belly of the dead man to repeat the process. Large bite marks are visible on the boys arms. * Man, man, man, man, man grouping. Four men are having intercourse with gaping wounds in the torso of the fifth man. The fifth man is on his back on a small table, chewing on what appears to be the dismembered hand of a child. The child from whom he got the hand is not in sight. * Woman, woman grouping. The women are engaged in mutual oral sex. Each womans belly has been torn out and is dangling her viscera either onto the dirt or onto her partners body. The woman closest to me is bleeding very badly and will not live much longer. Side note: As these observations were made, I noticed a change in the surface of the spore victims skin. Aside from the growing blight of sores, the skin appears to be growing sticky. It also appears to be weakening. I watched a boy, whose back was relatively free from deterioration, get pushed back against a hut. When the boy moved forward, the skin stuck to the hut and tore from his body with each step. This is similar to what I experienced yesterday with the dogs head. * Man, man, woman grouping. The older woman is flaying all skin from the other two group participants. Both the flayed man and younger woman are sitting, apparently chatting happily, while the older woman removes their skin with a small knife. The scraps of flesh are being thrown both at the other groups of villagers and into the forest. This flesh is particularly tacky and is sticking like glue to whatever it strikes. * Woman, man, woman, woman, infant grouping. The woman on the ground appears to be in the process of giving birth to what may have been a healthy, unaffected infant. The man and other two women are pushing the infant in and out of the mother with a great deal of force. I have no doubt the infant is no longer alive. All four living participants are either laughing or yelling with excitement or pleasure. It was that sight which forced me back to the lab. Id reached my limit. When I walked in, Annie and Jared had escaped from their rooms. Once their flesh had deteriorated, it was not difficult for them to slip out of their bindings. I hadnt bothered to lock their bedroom doors after tying them up. They had resumed their intercourse from the day before. Jared was atop Annie, chest to chest. When I entered the lab, Jared, surprised and delighted to see me, lifted himself off Annie. Their skin clung together and the force of his motion tore the flesh from the muscles. Amused by this, Annie pulled back from Jared and attempted to disengage their genitals. Her vaginal walls clung to Jareds penis as she moved, sloughing off and separating from her anatomy. They stood in front of me, like they did yesterday, happy to talk about how much fun they were having. I couldnt stand to look at them. I asked if theyd kindly go back to their rooms and wait for a little while. Even though they looked confused, they listened to me. I locked them in. Thats when I began to write this entry. As I type, I can hear them moaning as they pleasure themselves. I dont know what Im going to do between now and the eight hours before the helicopter is supposed to arrive, but Im compelled to go into the forest and see if I can salvage anything useful from this horror show. Even if I dont see anything, maybe it can help clear my head. *Update @ 6:00pm*
The first important thing I noticed was how the chunks of flesh thrown by woman who flayed her two partners had sprouted mushrooms. Small, stringy mushrooms. Everywhere I found chunks of flesh, I found the mushrooms. Also of note: the orgy of hideousness in the village had abruptly stopped. I hurried back to see what had happened. I thought at first they might all be dead, but they were standing there, smiling and wandering around aimlessly. Their injuries were horrific; some catastrophic. Those too hurt to move lay on the ground. The sticky flesh that had touched the dirt had begun to grow the same mushrooms. Gradually, those capable of walking started to spread out in all directions. They moved slowly, picking their skin and throwing it on the ground as they walked. Over time, they increased their speed. I ran behind a group of boys. They pulled small strips of skin from their bodies and flung it to the dirt with each step. The bit off their own lips and tongues and spit them on the ground or at the trees. They ran and ran and ran, leaving a trail of gore behind them. I looked from side to side and saw the other villagers running and tearing themselves to shreds as they went. I must have gone a few miles before I couldnt continue. The hazmat suit was too heavy and I was overheated and exhausted. I turned around and trudged back. The closer I got to town, the first few scraps of flesh that had been torn off had already started sprouting the same stringy mushrooms. I was overwhelmed with visceral disgust and scientific intrigue. Back in the village, no one was left alive. Whoever was capable of running away had done so, and all the corpses remained where theyd fallen or been dropped. Each of the carcasses were sprouting bouquets of fungus. Out of nowhere, I remembered Annie and Jared. I ran back to the lab, threw open their doors, and saw the consequences of being too late to help them. Both were dead. Theyd torn themselves to shreds and blanketed the bedrooms with their flesh and blood. With no dirt or plant life for the mushrooms to grow on, the flesh just sat there. I dont know why I did what I did next, but at the time, it felt like the only way to honor them. I scooped up what I could of their remains and threw it on the ground by the lab. I sat and watched as the mushrooms grew. Now Im waiting for the helicopter. ---
Thats the end of the journal. The helicopter picked me up around 10pm. The other teams came in later to do whatever investigations needed to be done. Physically, I was fine. Aside from stewing in a sweaty hazmat suit for two days with a terrible cold and too few fluids, my body was no worse for wear. The bodies of the villagers were found over the course of the next few weeks. Some of them had made it almost 45 miles before their bodies gave out and they dropped. All that could be recovered were bones. Its almost a year later and Im back in the area with a new team. Having to wear a hazmat suit at all times when were not in the lab sucks, but no one wants to go through what happened to our colleagues. The research difficulties wed faced for the last ten years still plague us, but at least a few questions about the fungus have been answered. Still, when its quiet or Im working alone, I think about the villagers blindly running as far as their bodies would go, all while tearing themselves apart just so theyd fertilize the ground with the spores of that which had possessed them. And I cant stop thinking about how, because of it, a full five miles have been added to the radius of where that particular mushroom grows. [Unsettling Stories](<URL>), [FB](<URL>)"
s_1830_896,"Honestly, I am rapidly losing interest."
s_2606_747,Generally I have poor focus but once I am interested in something I have excellent focus (particularly at the last minute). I found my lack of focus a problem in lectures at uni until I started trying to think of questions to ask for everything. I'd try to answer them in my head or look them up and if I couldn't find the answer I'd ask the lecturer. It helped keep my mind a bit more engaged. This applies to everything now. I don't have too many problems focusing.
s_739_5,"Mom told me to snap out of my depression before work and told me that other people have worse things to be sad about. I am at work at the moment and I want to break down. I am diagnosed with Major Chronic Depression, and I fell back into another phase where I constantly think about death and wanting to die. I've been plotting my death for a few days ago and this brings me comfort. I even had a major mental breakdown at work where all my co-workers saw me cry and I was sent home, because I was plotting ways to ask for paper clips to cut myself without anyone knowing. I told my boss about this. I bring myself to therapy because my parents ignore my depression. They never say anything when I try to talk about it, they turn their nose at me. Then they only say things like, ""are we getting charged for those 'therapies you go to?' That seems to be their only concern. One time my dad even told me, ""You don't even have a reason to be depressed."" Few weeks ago I told my mom that I've been cutting my wrist for awhile. She just guilt tripped me and said that I make her feel ill. Since I work with her, she knew about my breakdown a few days ago. This morning I was telling her that I was feeling low, I've been trying to let her know. She told me to just snap out of it, because it's embarrassing that everyone is talking about us at work now. I almost broke down and I'm just trying to push through. This job makes me miserable, but I'm trying so hard in life. But it piles up so much and I am so overwhelmed and feel like I am drowning constantly, depression makes me feel like I am suffering. I want to die so much."
s_1777_139,"It's shitty. I went to take a walk for like two hours just because it was killing me and now I'm back in my room. I just can't fall asleep, I just want to fast forward to when we can try again. I'm so upset with myself."
s_2139_274,"I would have weeks of depression and then suddenly feel good and talk fast, agitation, not sleeping, productive, impulsiveness etc then i would go right back down to depression. I thought it was just depression because I ddint know anything about Bipolar 2 disorder, I just knew I didnt have 1. So after a 6 week depression episode I first got diagnosed with MDD and then my psychiatrist realized it was actually Bipolar 2 because of the types of changes I have in my mood and behavior. But I usually am just depressed. Hypomania is once in a blue moon."
s_1764_63,"I can understand that. Your story is exactly like mine. I have had depression since I was 11 or 12. I had a lot of childhood trauma as well. I was diagnosed with major depression, PTSD, ADHD, and anxiety. I'm more about the holistic approach to things and doing inner work. I went to therapy for years and learned lots of skills and processed a lot of my trauma, but I still get effected by it and some of it still lingers. I finally gave in and was placed on 10mg of cymbalta in July. It worked wonders for me. It helped with my insomnia tremendously. My mood was also a bit more regulated. I was eating a lot more than usual but I'm not sure if that was because of the medication or if it's because my corporate job became extremely stressful at that time. I no longer work there, and I am still on the medication. I have been learning about herbs that help me with my depression and anxiety, have been working out consistently, eating right and have been watching a lot therapy videos. I work with a therapist sometimes but not as often as before. I don't over eat anymore and I haven't noticed any negative side effects. I have been drinking different kinds of teas to help me and plan on weening off my medication by the end of this year, only because it's something that I feel I need to do. I come from a family of herbalist and lately I've felt compelled to follow their foot steps. I took the medication because I knew something was off in my brain. There was an imbalance and I knew it. I had all the coping skills but it wasn't enough. Then I started to accept it and embrace the journey. Whatever you decide, just remember your journey will not be the same as your mother's. You seem very self aware and smart, and that's a huge positive quality for managing your depression. Medication doesn't have to be forever. And if it is, I don't think that would be a bad thing. A lot of people with physical illness need to be on medication for the rest of their life, and they live very healthy and fulfilling lives and are happy. View and treat your mental health as your physical health. I hope this helped you."
s_2025_575,personally i cannot wait for this bullshittery of a show to be gone so i can enjoy the books again. Its lost me over the last 2 seasons. I still enjoy it. But its just tit and dragons.
s_567_16,"Babysitting for the Fitzwillys (Part 2) **Part 1**: <URL>
*""Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop*
*When the wind blows, the cradle will rock*
*When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall*
*And down will come baby, cradle and all . . .""* I must have sung that one a thousand times, Margery joining in with no small amount of gusto. That was my first task. Put precious Jaime to bed. And Jaime loves nursery rhymes, so I was forced to sing to him as I rocked him in my arms and Margery danced to the tune, eyes closed, arms whirling. Lionel and Bosworth were nowhere to be found. Dylan took it all without so much as a minuscule shift in his expression. I studied his face as I held him, trying to gage his thoughts, trying to peer into his state of mind and wordlessly ask him about the horrors he had endured in the last decade. There was nothing. I had prayed to see anger in those brown depths, hatred toward his captors maybe, embers of resolve but it was as if all the fight had gone out of him. He seemed . . . My heart clenched. Eventually, Dylans eyes began to droop and he nestled into my chest as though he were a real baby. For the briefest of moments I thought I could feel him squeeze my arms quickly a sign of recognition or a plea for help. But my fleeting hope disappeared once I realized he had actually fallen asleep. Hed been a chubby kid, but there was so little of him now that I knew I wouldnt need help lifting him. He was so malnourished that I barely struggled to carry him to his crib. It was marginally bigger than a regular one and my heart broke at the thought of him lying here for years, the implications for not only his physical health but his psyche as well. This was humiliating. What were they playing at? Forcing a grown man to pretend to be a baby? After I put him down, I felt Margerys claw-like hand clasp my shoulder. He is so precious, my little boy. I can see that youve grown attached to him already. There is a bond. Her overly-animated voice chirped in my ear, her mouth so close to my face I could smell something rancid on her breath. She giggled in that creepy way of hers, a sound that bore no trace of happiness or joy, but rather seemed to slowly scrape away at my sanity. Like nails on a chalkboard. You have been the only nanny so far who has been so helpful. She placed her chin on my neck, its boniness digging into my skin. Revulsion washed over me in waves and I had to force myself not to shake off her grip. You are the only one that seems to connect with our little Jaime. The others were all so . . . Here she sighed dramatically, her impossibly wide grin tilting downwards. She giggled again, squeezing my shoulder. But youre a good little girlie, arent you? Youre not going to disappoint us like they did. You are going to stay with us, become part of our family. Were so excited to have you here. I could hear the blood pound in my ears. What . . . what happened to the other nannies? I asked quietly. Margerys smile grew even wider, more malicious. Oh, we had to let them go. But theyre safe, theyre sorry, theyre so, so beautiful now. She pinched my cheek. Lovely rose of a young woman, you are. Then she practically leaped away from me and began chanting Ring-Around-The-Rosie, winking at me before skipping out of the nursery. Only once she left did I release the breath Id been holding. I had to stay sane, strong. I couldnt fall apart. I couldnt cry. I couldnt freak out. I needed to keep my head if I was going to get us both out of here. I was offered a guest bedroom but told them Id rather sleep in the babys room, in case he woke in the middle of the night or something. Margery assured me that Jaime never did that, he was not one of those naughty toddlers. I spent the entire day scoping out the room, looking for hidden cameras as subtly as I could. I found two, one hidden between the knickknacks of a shelf and the other in the button of a teddy bear. I pretended to check on him as he slept, but I was actually poking at Dylan, trying to wake him. I wasnt sure how I was going to get rid of the cameras without them noticing, but I couldnt wait until Id come up with a good enough idea to talk to him. He was practically comatose. He didnt budge, not an inch, not even when I pinched him so hard his skin bruised. It was almost as if theyd drugged him. I was invited to have supper with them a few hours later. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to endure, sitting opposite them, watching them eat and carry on as though they had not destroyed the life of my best friend. I thought of his parents, how heartbroken they were when their sons case was closed. A lump formed in my throat. I couldnt be sentimental. I couldnt be weak, not if I wanted to survive. If I wanted to get out of this, I had to be calm and I had to be clever. I dragged my fork through the mashed potato on my plate, not intending to eat anything these monsters were serving me. I didnt drink anything, either. I went to the bathroom or kitchen and drank water from the tap if I got thirsty. I cleared my throat politely. Margery stopped her singing and looked at me expectantly, food crested around her mouth which still hung open mid-song. That damn woman could never stop singing. Um, I had a thought. She smiled encouragingly at me. I continued. If I am going to take on this job, you expect me to be here full-time, right? She nodded slowly, her head lolling to the side. Lionel remained quiet, polishing off the steak on his plate. Bosworth, whod been lurking in the corner of the room, looked as nervous as ever. I took a deep breath. Well, thats not going to work. I mean, you took my phone, right? If I just stay here and skip all of my classes and not let anyone know that Im ok, then theyre going to worry and call the police. Theyll look for me, thinking Im unsafe or being hurt and if they find me here, which they will, then they
Margery suddenly let out a loud, inhuman-sounding screech, covering both of her ears as she shook her head violently. The sudden display chased my planned speech right back down my throat and I nearly pissed my pants right then and there. Then suddenly, she stopped. Just like that, as though she could turn off her craziness with a switch. She smiled at me, spittle glistening on the sides of her mouth, dripping down her chin. She cocked her head to the side again. Youre not planning on disappointing us, are you? Her voice had returned to its normal, chirpy cadence as she singsong-ed the words, but there was a very evident threat beneath the sugar. I shook my head no. No, no, of course not. I want to be here. I want to be part of this family. That seemed to steady her mood. She straightened her head. I was learning the outlines of their insanity, learning where to tread and where to sidestep. All I was trying to say was that I should let at least one person know that Im safe. If I could call someone, they would make sure that no one informs the police or gets the wrong idea. For what must have been a full minute she said nothing, just stared at me, smiling. I never thought a smile could make me feel as sickened as I did then. But there was something worse than Margery Fitzwillys smile. Finally, finally, she answered. I suppose that makes sense, dear. Though, you must understand, weve had so many girls and boys who said they wanted to be a part of our family too. They disappointed us. They tried to get away from us, tried to get us in trouble. I like you, girl. I really, really do. I would hate for you to be just another disappointment. She flattened her veined, weathered hands on the table. But I do see your point. We shall need to trust you first. Trust must be earned. Then she stood, as did Lionel. They both left without another word to me. Bosworth escorted me to the nursery. Dylan was still asleep. I tried talking to Bosworth but he simply shut me in the nursery and bolted the door from the outside. I sank into the rocking chair beside the crib and just sat there for what felt like hours, stewing over what I could possibly do to earn their trust. Only once the idea began to form in my mind, did I allow myself the luxury of falling asleep. The next morning brought a fresh sense of determination. When I woke up, Dylan was on his knees and leaning against the bars of his crib, looking at me. I couldnt say anything to him just yet. I knew we were being watched and listened to. So I got him out and dressed him in day clothes. I could hear his hollow stomach rumbling, so I carried him downstairs. The door had been unlocked in the early hours. I had to put him in a giant high-chair and then feed him a bottle of formula. Something made me feel vaguely uneasy about the white liquid, but he drank it greedily, and I made a mental note to try and replace it with something else. Margery made me play with him, flying toys through the air and making all the sound effects as well. I tried moving through the house under the guise of our little games, trying to spot my phone, but of course it was never in plain sight. Dylan remained as quiet as death, but still tried to grab the toys I teased him with, acting out the role so faithfully I wondered if he had started to lose his real identity through the years. Nothing overtly strange happened until about mid-afternoon. I had taken a bathroom break and when I came back, Margery was waiting for me outside. She tilted her head to the side in her regular, creepy fashion, and pointed to where Dylan lay sniffling. The baby needs changing. My stomach dropped. No, they werent going to make me do this. Yes, they were. I was forced to change Dylans diaper. Hed shit himself quit badly, and there was something different about his demeanour, a fracture in his previous monotony. I was more concerned about the humiliation this guy must have felt than having to clean up his shit. This was the regular pattern of events for about a week. I fed him, burped him, changed him, played with him, sang to him, put him to sleep. The initial bubble of hysterical laughter that had accompanied nearly every routine had long since vanished by the third day of this. I was getting angrier, wearier, more pissed off. I had to try and gain their trust by making them think I was being compliant but I didnt know how much more of this I could take. I still couldnt communicate with Dylan safely, for someone was always watching us. I eventually memorised the layout of the bottom floor as I was never allowed up the stairs. But I knew the living areas and kitchen and library and nursery quite well, even discovered a crawlspace hidden in the back of the nursery, though it lay in one of the cameras line of vision. The day eventually came when Margery allowed me my phone call, after I managed to convince her that people would definitely be starting to worry now. I had put Dylan down for his nap. It was late afternoon, early evening. I was called into the kitchen and handed my phone, the Fitzwillys and Bosworth facing me, waiting to listen to make sure I didnt say anything I shouldnt. Lionel leaned over my shoulder, watching me select the number. I couldnt call the police. The only person who was in my city right now, who Id known for a long time and who might believe the insanity of my situation was Zander. So I clicked on his contact. Lionel nodded. Zander, to my eternal shock and everlasting gratitude, actually picked up on the forth ring. his voice was distorted and there was a ton of noise in the background. He was obviously busy, at some event or other. Yeah, um, hi. My voice was surprisingly even. I shifted my gaze to take in all of the three people around me. Lionel still waited behind me, Margery stood to my left and Bosworth to my right. The counter stood in front of me. From the sound of his voice, I was probably the last person on this planet Zander would ever imagine calling him. I could practically hear him raising his eyebrows. Uh, how have you been? Im good, Ive been good, thanks. Look, Teresa, not that Im being an asshole or anything, but why are you calling me? I cant say hi to an old friend? I laughed the fakest laugh I had ever emitted in my life. Youre hilarious. Okay, Im gonna need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? Teresa, whats going
I shoved Lionel as hard as I could, careful to not end the call. I dove over the counter and felt Margery grab onto my foot. I lifted my other leg and kicked her hard in the face. She fell back with a scream and I ran like hell to the nursery. I grabbed the key from the outside lock, shut the doors and bolted it. Dylan was still asleep, still put out by whatever shit they put in his formula before every nap and sleep session. I put the phone to my ear, heart beating out of control. Zander was still in mid-sentence. iously, what the fuck is going on over there? The background noise had faded to a murmur. He must have gone somewhere quieter. His voice was angry but there was concern as well. I could already hear Margerys banshee-like screams, I could hear the thundering of footsteps down the hall. Listen, please! Im with Dylan right now and were in a trouble. You need to get the cops to come over here and now! The people were with might kill us! Bosworths heavy blows began shaking the door. I moved to take Dylan out of the crib and hide him, just in case theyd try to hurt him. Zander, please, youre the only one who can help us. What, did you just say 'Dylan'? I dont
I SWEAR TO GOD THIS ISN'T A JOKE! PLEASE JUST GET HELP! I screamed out the address at him several times before my phone died. I rushed around the room looking for the cameras, then covered them. I turned off the light and began dragging Dylan to the crawlspace Id mapped out in my head. We had just reached it when the door came flying off its hinges. I quickly laid Dylan inside as comfortably as I could in my haste and left the door semi-open, moving a chair in front of it. The light came on and then Bosworth was picking me up by the arms. I kicked out, as hard as I could, catching him once in the groin and he barely flinched. That was . . . not normal. He threw me to the floor and when I looked up, I looked up into the most horrific sight I had ever seen in my life. I thought Margery Fitzwillys smiles were unsettling. But they was nothing compared to the long, long frown she wore that dipped past her sagging jowls. Her face was bloody from the kick my boot had delivered, thick blood pouring out of her nose. Her eyes had gone dark, something vicious and evil barely restrained behind them. Lionel wasnt there. Just Margery, in her terrifying glory. She leaned down until her bleeding nose nearly touched mine. Naughty, naughty girl. Why did you do that? She tilted her head to the side, several degrees further than what looked comfortable or natural. I felt a dread unlike any other I had ever experienced before begin to seep into my very soul. Take her. She straightened herself and Bosworth picked me up again, dragging me by the arms out of the nursery. She sang as I was carried screaming across the floors of the house and down a flight of stairs, her voice the same eerie chirrup that only fed my terror and panic. *Ring-a-round the rosie,*
*A pocket full of posies,*
*Ashes! *We all fall down . . . * **Final**: <URL>"
s_3003_343,"CD21 checking in. Today I feel just tired. No big depression like on some days, but nothing awesome either. Just waiting to ovulate, this is so long ugh... -_-"
s_1155_59,"In regards to my own depression, yeah - I've had those days. I wake up feeling like I can actually face the day, only to have it ruined somehow, at some point. By the end of the day, I feel exhausted, mentally and physically, and when I get home, I don't want to do anything. My best advice to you would be to speak to a doctor, explain to them your situation, and most of all - be honest. A good doctor will do everything in their power to help you, especially if they find that you are suffering from depression."
s_993_450,My job is making me stressful and I want to quit desperately. I have taken a sales job in what I think was bout of hypomania. Needless to say my mental health took a major hit. I have had a major depressive episode. That finally made me seek out help from doctor. Now 2-3 months have passed by in some kind of high. I am feeling suicidal again. Logical thing would be to quit my job rather than take my own life. But logic like that works only when I am feeling ok. I feel quitting my job without plan B would definitely make me more depressed. But staying here is also taking a toll on my mental health. I am at a rock and a hard place. What should I do?
s_1254_700,I start welling up if I just think about that film for too long. I haven't cried like that any time before or since. I'd recommend it to anyone though.
s_752_69,I could've written this. I used to be smart and have goals. I used to want things. I used to enjoy things. All I have left is a couple grams of wax. No money left. So when I'm done smoking myself retarded I think I want to end it. I cant force myself to get a job anymore so why go on? I've turned into a worthless junky.
s_1265_334,I miss my *Feelings* sometimes... because I would deeply identify with others. But I never miss my sadness because that's depression and it could get so bad
s_943_246,Is it normal to miss your primary school classmates this bad? A few times a year I find myself feeling extremely sad and crying about not seeing my primary school classmates anymore. Also have very vivid dreams about them during this time. Is there something wrong with me?
s_186_171,"Recently turned 36. For years now I can't even picture a future where I think I'd be happy. I can easily picture worse things to come. When I go into a job interview and they ask me what Im passionate about, I have to try to make something up and try not to laugh at the absurdity of the question. Lately I've been thinking about just giving away everything I own (not a whole lot) and just walking away from life. I kind of think it's a fancy way of saying kill myself, but I don't know........there's some CHANCE there once everything else is gone maybe. Or that I need something horrible to happen to me, to give me a reason to feel bad that makes sense to other people. If you're just a worthless lump trying to slowly climb your way out of the dark pit by getting a job, trying to find someone who likes you, etc....it's pretty hard to describe to normal thinking individuals why you haven't been working on your skills or whatever else. Plus I would find it hard to trust someone whose mind is essentially betraying them if I were hiring a depressed individual like myself. That there is when I start wondering what the point in continuing is, because I feel like I bring misery to everyone around me plus myself often enough that suicide might be tough...but they could move on and I could be done if I could just convince myself and pay for the costs associated with it somehow. Some kind of terminal illness would solve it."
s_2139_5,"I truly understand this. I share many similarities with you. I grew up as the star kid, very talkative and joyful and hyper. I was always making people laugh and many people have commented on my humor my whole life. The last few years I have become a shell of that person. I used to love social gatherings and people. Now I get scared and anxious to talk on the phone with my best friend or to even hang out with family. I only feel comfortable around my parents and sister now. I put on a mask when I go out even though im trembling inside and act fine. As soon as I am alone im back to being depressed and unmotivated. I also turned somewhat pessimistic and time went on. I can only really see the issues with life and when I try to remind myself of the positive it never outweighs the bad. I have insomnia and anxiety as well and may even have hypomania. A few weeks ago I was optimistic, energized and doing things. And then I crashed and have been in what feels like a never ending depressive episode since June. I have been dealing with depression on and off since I was in middle school. I hate myself and dont ever remember a time where I liked myself even when things felt fine. I am also a university student and have no idea what I will do as school is starting back up in a week and I am battling everyday just to stay alive and stay sane. Overall, I feel you and you are not alone"
s_2023_212,Does anyone else have significantly more pain while on their period? Im dying today. I was at work and kept having to stop to just cry. The urethra pain on top of the pains from my period are kicking me hard.
s_2334_184,"Oh, Lexapro. I dont know what to do about you. I have always dealt with low-level depression, but I started taking Lexapro in October for anxiety. I was having real problems with anxiety that was definitely impacting my quality of life. The Lexapro is working on my anxiety. I rarely feel anxious anymore. But I feel like I dont really feel anything anymore. As a Highly Sensitive Person who has always felt things extra deeply, I feel like I hardly know myself. My grandfather died last month, I hardly felt sad. I know I should feel sad, but I almost dont care that I dont. I can no longer have orgasms. I loved sex, now I feel like a casual participant in someone elses sexual activity. I barely even miss it; it doesnt seem worth the effort to even try getting off anymore. I just feel like I am living life shallowly. I have a friend that I invested lots of time and energy talking down from suicide last year. The other day he told me he has decided to kill himself anyway. I cant even bring myself to engage and try to talk him out of it anymore. It seems futile. Also, even though its like an experience of dulled emotions, my baseline seems to be on the low side of even. I feel vaguely sad all the time. Sometimes I just start crying for no reason. It happened about half an hour ago, which is what prompted this post. I feel generally ashamed of myself, and sad about my life and the way Im living it. But I am not anxious. The Lexapro is working on my anxiety, and the anxiety was really ruining my life. When I started Lexapro, I was adamant that I didnt want it to change who I essentially was. I liked how strongly I felt things, more good than bad, of course. Now I feel like I cant be objective about my experiences. And I also feel like I dont care enough to take action. I know no one can help me here; I need to figure out what is right for me. I just wanted to document this, and maybe get some commiserating responses. Thanks for reading."
s_2028_17,Hi thank you so much for sharing this insight: Im trying to self recover and recently spent 3.5k out of pocket ona root canal. I hiccup all the time. Ill randomly throw up. I cant eat a normal sized meal without feeling like I need to purge. Im constantly grasping at my thighs and my stomach to see if Im still fat. Im constantly tired. Im in my early thirties and I wouldnt wish this on ANYONE. Thank you so much for bringing this up I wish you nothing but the best. 3
s_168_408,"You are wrong
You've never read Mishlei then. It's fools all the way down. see Shabbos 127b either way. I want to be judged fairly, not favorably. If I did something wrong I deserve to be punished, and that's fair."
s_549_49,"I cried again today after two months Three months ago, I went into a bad spiral of I don't know...sadness. I couldn't work (I told my manager I had ""personal problems"", thankfully he understood). I thought I'd clawed my way out of it. Today, I went on a date. The date actually went well. But...I came back home and cried. Me...a 31 year old male. I don't know why I'm crying. The scariest thing is that I thought I had close friends. Then I thought of who I could talk to right now about the fact that I'm dying here, and there was no one. Not family, not friends. I've gone into a shell after the last few months and I can't come out. I don't know what to do. I'm lost..."
s_11_797,"I understand btw if you don't reply to this, there's a ridiculous ammount of questions here, 99% more important than mine..) With that said, how do you stay focused? There's all these things that I want to do but I can't concentrate long enough to achieve my goal. I never developed a work ethic in my childhood and wondered if you have any tips for doing so?"
s_1537_1,"How to find joy in my bleak and mundane life? Before I can remember, I've never really felt true joy. Depression runs in my family, and it was no suprise to my mom when I was diagnosed with it last year. Since then, I met my (now ex) boyfriend and for once I was extremely happy because he was patient and kind, but under certain circumstances he broke up with me. Since that day, I have reverted into my old lifestyle of laying in bed for days on end only getting up to use the bathroom. I don't find joy in my old hobbies, and I just spend my days sleeping, crying, or staring into space. I have realized that this behavior needs to stop, I'm going to college in September and I need to learn to cope, but it's so hard when nothing except him make me happy. How do I make the best out of my bleak life?"
s_1447_807,Im always angry
s_2625_1,"So I had a moment of clarity after experiencing pretty bad (but temporary) panic. I just started an internship this summer, which has been pretty huge for me. A year and a half ago I was pretty much bedridden. I would panic walking down the street. Anyway, I got on an SSRI, got back into school, and somehow found my way into a really great internship program. I get very anxious in new situations around new people, so it's been rough trying to adapt. Well, today was a sort of breaking point. I have developed some sort of claustrophobia and of course, I pick a job where I occasionally need to work in the company data center. Unfortunately this is in a highly secured room so I need an escort, and it's in a basement area. For some reason when I can't see windows or the outside, I get very, very nervous. So, I really panicked. I felt like I was going to pass out. My face was bright red, I was sweaty, I felt cold and hot all at once, my heart was racing, I felt like I couldn't breathe. This lasted probably 20 minutes, on and off. Sort of like waves of panic and anxiety. At a certain point I think my body was exhausted. I couldn't really panic anymore, I didn't have the energy to do it. I had this moment of clarity...I CAN handle anxiety. I can manage it, even in front of people. I didn't have to leave the space I was in. I just rode it out, and eventually my panic subsided. I don't really like the advice to focus on your breathing to calm yourself. This always made me feel worse and feel like I was hyperventilating. I think the best thing for me is to just say, well, this is temporary. It will eventually go away regardless of what you do. I'm writing this for anyone who has work anxiety. My anxiety is the worst when I'm in a space I am socially expected to stay in - like meetings, for example. Or even when I'm out with people at a restaurant. I still don't go to movie theaters because I simply can't sit still or focus on the movie. I like to think of it as if I'm forcing my body to stay in a certain situation to prove to it that it is NOT life threatening. I get nervous and want to run - like in a meeting - but I force my body to sit still. Yeah, I fidget a lot, move my hands, whatever. But it's a start. So I guess what I mean by this is it's good for me to feel the anxiety because I can convince my body to finally relax. I just wanted to share that with you guys!"
s_257_579,"This is a complete self diagnosis I'm saying right here, but I'm pretty sure SSRIs aren't for me. I think I might have low dopamine levels because my concentration and motivation levels are extremely low."
s_752_121,I hear you. My appetite is gone and now I have stomach ulcers from not eating. I hope they start bleeding and I die from the inside.
s_305_126,"I don't know how much longer I can do this... Today was our track meet. It was but a fine day for running, as the weather was well suited for the track season. I was running the 300m hurdles. I was doing brilliant. I was in third place, and edging ever so close to passing the individual in second place. Suddenly, the unthinkable happens. I go from 3rd to last place. I fall in front of my family, my girlfriend, and 1000 people. But this isn't the first time. It's been like this for ages. I just never meet my own expectations whether it be sports or school. I'm just done. I'm ready to go."
s_1404_751,Think im asexual. Will it limit my chance to find a girlfriend? To get children sure I can do it once. But the idea of having sex feels bad to me. I dont know why.
s_1749_1046,"I just used a scooter at the grocery store for the first time. And I hated it. I'm 22, at a reasonable weight, and dont look sick. Today I'm having a high pain day. Usually I don't need a scooter or I just sit in the cart and make my boyfriend push me because I would rather look like I'm dicking around then like I have health problems. Anyway, the variety of looks I got made me incredibly uncomfortable. Being a white punk in a dominantly black southern area that happens a lot anyway. But a lot of the looks were either the sympathetic 'bless yer heart' looks or they would look at me like I'm a jerk for using a scooter that someone unwell might need. When I was returning the scooter a guy came up to me and with a dirty look said ""Can I have that?"". Yeah dude, I'm half way off. Luckily I'm not as irritable as some days. I just wanted to vent to some people who understand having an invisible disease. I know this is not a major issue, but its the little things we have to deal with. Edit: You guys are fantastic."
s_507_383,Now I feel sad :(
s_2094_142,"Is anyone else just plain exhausted from cheering against this franchise? Like, I'm tired. They're just so... fucking... dominant."
s_186_114,"I've never been married or had kids. But the rest of the stuff I can relate to. People can sense the depression/self hatred/negativity that comes along with it. Havent spoken to many of my friends in years. I've been seeing a therapist for...........4-5 months now. And I don't think I started feeling better until I finally felt like I could tell them everything and that was a couple months in. It's not even telling them everything, it's having them be able to communicate that they see that you feel stuck. The first thing is that you have to take the view that as long as you are trying and putting all the effort you can into your job hunt, addressing your issues, etc......that you aren't a failure. Failure is when you quit, and I myself quit many things because of the depression. Sounds easy when you write it out, it's TREMENDOUSLY hard. The therapist will probably tell you to keep a regular schedule, take a shower and change into clothes you would leave the house in...so you at least did that ""normal"" thing. Eat regularly even if you aren't hungry. Don't drink alcohol. Take your medications, especially if you are on anti-depressants...but even your blood pressure/blood sugar can make your mood worse. Also thyroid issues can cause depression, so if you have the potential for that you need to get it checked. Personally I found talking to people to help, outside of therapy. Lack of contact really makes you feel worthless on top of everything else. Doesnt even necessarily have to be about the depression itself, just express the ""loop""/""trap"" you are in and see if they can see the best path forward or at least they say ""Well you're doing everything you can, see your therapist, etc"". I personally don't think people can truly comprehend the self-hatred that comes with that deep depression unless they've had it. And people pick up on it, I am 100% sure it bleeds through on job interviews especially if you really don't want that position as much as they'd like you to pretend you do. So, I say therapy, express what you've said here. Get a therapist you like, if you don't like the first one you meet go to another. If you don't want to talk to a man about it, get a woman, old vs young, etc. Apply to interviews and go, just try to picture the best possible outcome. Try not to let the negativity toward your skillset/self take over. Maybe even work on that first with your therapist since everyone needs money. Another thing I've been told:
Sex, chocolate, sunlight, exercise, and regular sleep help depression. So chocolate up your husband and go screw outside somewhere after a nap possibly. :)"
s_1715_78,"I wrote an essay on the subject as I have suffered from is for many years:
Intro: I wrote this essay for my AP Language class. We had to pick a word and explain its meaning and how it has changed and what it means to you. A big part of this assignment was having a voice. I hope you enjoy. For those curious I got a 90%. Essay: Over expression is the destruction of all language. When strict phrases lose their meaning there can no longer be words that fit the deep emotions and situations that occur in a lifetime. A word that means a lot to me is depression. I was diagnosed with depression at an early age and it isnt something I am particularly proud of. When I told friends and family that I had depression the questions that came up often were Why cant you just be happy? and Whats wrong? These questions are invalid when talking about the true kind of depression that exists. Over the years by over use and twisting, this deep and meaningful word has lost the one thing it exemplifies. As I struggle through life one thing that has always hurt me deeply is that the word depression is used liberally. Oh man I have so much homework this is depressing. I cant go out to see my friends tonight I am depressed. The way depression is used in these sentences is not how the word should be utilized. Depression is a serious medical issue plaguing significant populations throughout the world. Depression isn't feeling sad like it is portrayed today. Depression could be seen as the black of emotions - it is not one emotion; it is the lack of emotions like how black is the absence of color. It is almost impossible to describe what exactly being depressed entails. When I become depressed I do not cry, I do not weep, I become someone I am not. I become an unmovable object. It is hard to feel anything when in a depressed state. All that I am able to register when I am depressed is a mild ache. I dont want to do anything, nothing productive, and certainly nothing for leisure. Staring off into the distance becomes the most attractive notion. Activities that I usually find fun lose their touch and with them I lose touch with reality. The episodes aren't triggered by situations, I can be having the time of my life but all of a sudden I just lose the entertainment value from what I am doing and fall into a pit of seeming despair. When asked why I feel depressed I can only answer, I dont know. A lot of people get angry when a person is depressed like it is their fault and they are just being babies. This is not so; It has been shown to be genetic - traveling through family lines like the plague. I got it from my dad and he got it from his dad. I am not an isolated case. Many of my friends have gotten their depression from their parents or family members. The only bonus of this is that people with depression can relate to others and arent alone. As much as this is a bonus it is also a drawback. As people see so many cases hatred for the condition becomes wide spread they begin to see it as an act as someone being attention seeking. This could not be farther from the truth. For the few that fake symptoms as a gig for attention there is an army of people pleading in the shadows afraid to seek help because they believe their friends and family will shun them. Why has this problem gotten so out of hand? It is because of the use of the word in todays society. People have gotten sick of saying I feel sad this seems like baby talk to them. They want something sophisticated and mature so they go to the next step adding a deeper emotion. The scapegoat for this craving has become depression. An emotional rollercoaster that today seems to be cursed by having a word assigned to it. Since people say they are depressed all the time the ones with the serious cases are overlooked, they are seen as people just being sad. As time progresses and ignorance runs wild people like me can end up committing an act that cannot be reversed- suicide. Death is the final solution and how someone can be pushed so far to do it is unthinkable and is truly deserving of remorse. Sadly - extremely and utterly merciful is the fact that even death from depression has lost its meaning. I walk through school after a suicide case has been in the news and hear the unthinkable. I have been depressed before. This person just wanted attention by committing suicide. We should not publicize him or her, it is probably exactly what he or she wanted. I hear the same thing in a hundred different ways. It just blows my mind. How can a human life be valued so little? It can all be traced back to this word becoming a daily occurrence. Overtime everyone has begun to believe they have experienced depression because at one point or another they have been unhappy. I, defending someones life and legacy have argued directly with these people asking them how they can say such horrible things about a tragic death. They just say the same thing over and over again. I have experienced depression, so what I say is true. Going back to the first quotes in my literature I see what they believe is depression. A slight inconvenience, a days work, and anything that makes them go out of their way makes them their version of depressed. This is not how the word is supposed to be used. Adults and kids alike die everyday from being depressed. This is not because they are attention seeking and it is not because they are simply gloomy. One of the main reasons is because they dont know where they fit anymore. As the one word to describe this extreme emotion loses its meaning the people with the condition no longer feel like they fit anywhere. They begin to feel different, like they are the only person in the world who has these episodes. Along with feeling different they feel hopeless and truly useless. A species like ours that has such a capacity for compassion could save so many lives by just being thoughtful. No one has the right to make someone feel isolated. Unknowingly this is what is happening as the word depression loses its meaning. People with this serious medical condition are starting to feel isolated from the whole. Depressed people are not different from anyone else, they are not attention seekers and they are not over exaggerating. People need to comprehend that using over complicated diction that they dont understand is not how you sound smart. Someone sounds smart by using accurate word choice as to not run the line of changing a word for the worse."
s_993_687,Happy for you. I wish I had the energy to do that. I have not managed to do that in past 15 days. I feel like I am going further in a hole. You should celebrate this win.
s_1601_192,"Does your period blood absolutely stink? I'm hating myself. One a month, I stink. Doesn't matter how many showers I take, how many gallons of perfume I pour on me. I go as far as using perfumed baby wipes almost exclusively. I've even sprayed deo, air freshener and the smaller ones you put in your car, towards my nether region, because it freaking stinks! And it clearly smells like blood. I'm talking a very distinctive iron smell, that radiates around me. Now even my room (think of it as a studio apartment with its own bathroom) smells awful! I'm going out to buy myself candles and matches because this is not okay. Anyone going or who have gone through the same? What has helped?"
s_2688_1214,"I feel like I'm incapable of loving anyone I was in a good relationship and in love in high school, but since then every relationship I've had has been mostly shallow and based on lust or boredom. Now I've been seeing a girl on and off for a few months and although I feel like I love her when we're together and hanging out, when we're apart I kind of don't care. I meet girls I think are beautiful and I think I fall for them but then the next day I forget about them and go back to not caring. I feel like I've just lost interest completely in love and romance and I don't understand why. Has this happened to anyone else? EDIT: I've had prior problems with depression and took Paxil/Paroxetine for over a year, but weened off it early last month. However I felt the same while I was on paxil. I'm afraid I could have anhedonia, but I feel pretty normal otherwise. Does anyone know more about this?"
s_835_14,"Unexplained Incident in New Haven Greetings everyone. My name is Dwayne. I'm a state trooper out of New Haven Connecticut. I've been on the force for almost 20 years and a few months back something strange happened that I've not been able to shake. I've always been a bit of a drinker but ever since that night things have been bad. I've been irritable, out of sorts and frankly drinking through each day. I'm hoping that maybe sharing this with someone will help. I can only imagine what my ex would say, so I'm turning towards the anonymous internet instead. It was a fair day and I was cruising down 95 heading back to the station when I got the call. ""Young woman causing a scene crossing interstate 95."" This was the entirety of the report. I called in to get the mile marker and found that I was relatively close. I had been in a hurry to get off of work that day to see my daughter, but frankly the idea of seeing her mother was enough to encourage my to respond. I called in that I was on my way and headed toward the reported scene. This internet age is crazy. Before I even reached the location I was watching a Youtube video of a young girl running and spinning in circles in the middle of the highway. Sammy at dispatch had texted the link partially so I would know what was happening, but mostly because Sammy was a bored busy-body who loved gossip and glamorization. Regardless, by the time I reached the scene I immediately recognized her. She was hard to miss. She was half naked, with the rags of a white camisole as her only protection against the elements. She was crouched with her shoulder pressed alongside the concrete barrier and frantically peeking over, and then ducking back down. I positioned my car to protect her from the flow of traffic and called in my position. I carefully got out of the car, and approached her a gently as I could. I had spent years dealing with domestic disputes, which more often than not, included some paranoid, drug addled husband. The state of this woman looked very familiar, and I knew not to provoke someone as high as she must have been. She saw me coming from long off and locked eyes with mine as I, step by step, got closer. I held my hands low, palms down, showing that I was not a threat. I was good at this and it worked. She let me get within speaking distance without becoming startled, though her eyes were wild and full of trepidation. ""Sweetheart, I'm here to help you."" She ignore me, instead popping her head up and looking over the barrier to the opposite side of the highway. I looked and saw nothing. ""You're in danger, young lady""
She spun her head to eyeball me intensely. she whispered forcefully. Let me help you. Get into the car and we'll leave."" I walked towards the car, looking over my shoulder to see her positioning and preparing to follow me like a cat. The moment my door was open she darted from her position and was in the back seat of my cruiser faster than I would have imagined possible. I pulled away and headed back to the station, all the while looking at her in my rear view. She was cut, bruised, scraped and clearly not well. She kept darting from one window to another looking for something. ""You're going to be ok now. Can you tell me what happened?"" ""They're coming."" She was distracted, still on the lookout. ""Did someone hurt you? Are they here?"" I slowed the car a bit in case the perp was in the local vicinity. She did not answer, yet her answer was clear. She was obviously worried about being found by the people who hurt her. I called into dispatch telling them that I had secured the girl, and that I was on my way back now. She completely flipped out. She started kicking the seat behind me, spinning her body and screaming. They'll hear! They'll find us!"" tears were streaming down her cheeks. You're safe with me. They won't be able to hurt you. Do they have a police scanner? Is that what you mean?"" I was now starting to realize that this girl might not be crazy or drugged. Her eyes were clear, and although highly disturbed, she did not seem to have the classic signs of a tweaker. ""They will hear."" She lowered her voice, looking into my eyes in the mirror. No more radio. We'll get you back to the station."" She calmed a bit and fumbled with her hands between her knees. We only had a few minutes left until we reached the station and the detectives would take over. My curiosity got the better of me and I continued to ask questions. I knew that this was perhaps my only chance to actually figure out what was happening, and frankly the idea of tracking down the scum that hurt this young girl was exciting. ""Who did this. Do you know where they are?"" ""Elsewhere. They took me. They took me long ago and.... it's different. That place. They found me, and they're looking again.... to take me back, to take me."" She was slow and despondent now. ""What does it look like, the place? ""It's... It's bad, and purple. It comes in waves but they hurt. They pull at you, tearing. And the flashes, they... they pull too... but... your brain, your eyes."" This was getting nowhere fast. I decided that I was not likely to get any legitimate information at this point and stopped. My silence was interrupted by her fresh screams. She held her temples with the palms of her hands, fingers extended, shouting ""They're here now, they found me!"" Over her deranged shouting I heard the break of my radio, and answered it. ""Car 19, this is dispatch, what's you're location?"" This was so routine as to be automatic for me. I looked out the drivers side window to check and replied instantly. ""Mile marker 36."" Then something stuck me. "" ""Sammy, that you?"". I got nothing in return. "" And then it was too silent. I looked in my rear view to nothing but an empty seat. I jammed my breaks and pulled to the breakdown lane, and ran out of the car. I checked the back thoroughly to find nothing. She was just.... gone. There was no sign she'd ever even been there. I came back to the station empty handed. I was questioned about what was going on. I told them the truth. I told them every single part of what I'm telling you. What I got in return was a 3 week leave, and to never be looked at without concern since. I still have my career, but no one on the force treats me the same. I don't treat myself the same. I learned on that day that there was something enormous and unexplained among us. I was no threat to it, probably not even a consideration compared to that. But ""that"" exists. My reality is theirs. They are here, and there is nothing I can do about it. I just pray that they never want me."
s_2595_346,"I'm staring at my body now, it lays on a bed, my eyes are open and they do not blink. I turn move through the solid door. There's some friction, my essence passes through the door slowly, and I'm out. I can't feel the floor, but I move through the hallways quickly, I can't leave my body behind, I don't have much time, maybe a few hours. Few hours is all I needed. I hear voices, somewhere off in front of me, to the right, it's... yes. Security guards...Donnie and Chuck. I slow down, It feels like a train trying to stop, my essence has momentum, interesting. I move through the wall into the room two guards are talking, I wait. ""Please, Chuck, can we not do this. ... I have to work all night and I'm just not in the mood."" Donnie, the younger, obese black guard says to Chuck, adjusting himself in the chair. Chuck, in his seventies, moves his chair closer, putting his hand on Donnie's knee, ""Donnie, we have to talk about what happened last night."" What happened last night? I move around the office, looking around at a cluttered desk, then to the security cameras...
""Chuck, nothing happened..""
""Yes, something did. My pants fell, and you...""
""Stop it Chuck, I...I don't want to talk about it."" This can't be good. I try to drown out the conversation between Donnie and Chuck as I look around the office, maybe there's a guard's schedule, something to tell me when they come, when they go, give me a window big enough to escape through...
""We made love, just say it."" You know we can get fired for talking about it! Nothing happened! We're lucky the camera didn't catch us..""
""Yes, something happened Donnie, you went inside me, you grabbed me, you wanted me, you held me down, you did things, wonderful things...""
I froze, I wish I didn't have ears. I kept trying to ignore the conversation, searching the office, I checked the security cameras, see if maybe--
""Yes, fine Chuck. I wanted you. I thought about it for months, bending you over and giving it to you real good. Now, it's over. Tomorrow we got new inmates coming in, we have to stay focused. Get this shift over with...""
""I want it again, Donnie""
""No, you know we--""
Chuck moved himself up off the chair, and onto Donnie's lap. ""I want to ride you again."" I had enough, I can do this some other time, I moved out of the office as quick as I could. I moved through the walls, passed doors and through the hall, back into my cell, and back into myself. I wake up as if I just started breathing for the first time in months, gasping for air, then. * I begin pounding on the walls, screaming, loud. I pound and pound. I'm crazy!!! I'm going to kill myself! I scream, and I wait. I can hear Donnie's breathing from down the hallway, he buckling his pants as Chuck is close behind him. Both come to my cell, he opens the small metal hole in the door. ""What the fuck you screaming for?"" I smile, ""Well, you got two options, either I tell the Warden about you two love birds and have him fire you both and ruin your life, and reputation, or, you let me go, and say it's an accident, and just give me enough time to escape."" Donnie looks shocked, and began to sweat. Chuck wipes his mouth. ""How--how do you know?"" Donnie asks. I smile, and extended my hand through the small metal hole in the cell door, ""Deal or no deal?"""
s_2449_25,"That's the real me I've discovered this sub an hour ago. I wrote something for you guys. ""I knew a kid once who always cried. He wasnt always sad, and I dont think a man his age had much to be sad about. He was authentic, solicitous yet an utter romantic, a man of his heart and a slave of his mind. He always cried, but he wasnt always sad. I dont think a boy as beautiful had much to sob for, though well, he did have ugly teeth. Maybe it was the teeth that forbidden him from smiling whenever he saw the beauty of sunrise, and the romanticism of dusk. Youd recognize his happiness by the enlargement of his eyes and a tiny, only fractious curve emerging on his lips. He was the kind of boys that cried when King Kong fall by a damn P-12. He was a beautiful, little kid, with burdensome dreams of being a man. And maybe thats why he always cried."" I've always felt happy while being sad. I had these moments where I'd lay down at night and listen to music and feel euphoric. I called it 'Happy Depression'. I've been browsing this subreddit and just having this wonderful moment because all of this posts, that's me. That's the person I try to hide because he's too emotional, not a man but a prostitute of these damn feelings. There's so much I could say but I don't wanna sound selfish. I just wanna say that I love you guys, I love this community. I'm so happy, but I think I'm also a bit sad."
s_2392_35,"For me things feel more hopeless as I get older. After 25 years it seems harder and harder believe that I might get better. For me it is that hopelessness that makes it harder as I get older. I don't think it is irrational at all. For me it is perfectly logical. If you have tried everything to get better, if you have little help and support, if things are falling down around your ears and you have little hope then not wanting to bear the pain any more is easily understandable. Must try to have hope though, must keep working on it. Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work I go ..."
s_41_1462,"I work night shift, don't sleep much, workout quite a bit, and have been sick lately. I just found out I have Shingles ( a reemergence of the chicken pox virus when your body's immune system is compromised). Please pray that this will pass, i'm currently taking anti virals). i'm 23 and I've found out that if you get shingles before the age of 50, you have a 74% chance of having a stroke in your life. So that's got me worried as well."
s_356_98,Every hobby that i have has lost all meaning. The things i love to do bring me no pleasure anymore and i cant find anything that absorbs me. I literally sit in my room and just wait for the day to end. Thank you for the advice.
s_2402_147,"I have BPD. Mood swings are getting worse, I wanna cut but parents found out, I wanna pour bleach on my arms and I'm now getting so depressed at times I can't function for a while daily. I'm getting more paranoid in public, and I'm thinking of suicide daily, not just how nice it would be to escape, but how to do it, effectiveness, when ect. I can't see my boyfriend for 10 days, last saw him Thursday, going to see him next Sunday, because apparantly he's too ill but he went to work on Friday and he sounded ok-ish, I could go see him but I'm not welcome at his because his Nan is old-fashioned. But he's hardly been replying to my texts, but he's still quite active on Facebook? So I'm a bit lonely and scared he's cheating. I just wanna fucking kill myself."
s_1404_335,Well I don't want my whole future to be boring and dead. If I have to live 80 more years without ever enjoying anything I could also just kill myself lol
s_201_13,"Had a very bad break down in school today. Not even sure I can make it through the night. Long and heart wrenching story short, my bestfriend, who was my boyfriend for a very long time up until he tried to kill himself a month ago and came back saying he wanted a break because he might be gay. Well, today, walking to lunch, I saw him holding this girl M's hand... I don't know what came over me, but I screamed ""I can't! and ran into the bathroom, where coincidentally my best friend Chloe had been. I started screaming and crying and, apparently, I said ""I just want to die"" a few times. M, who has actually been making mine and his life a living hell for months, came in and started yelling at me, saying ""What the fuck is wrong? Is it because w were holding hands? He's gay, get over it!"" and I just died inside at that point, because, if he really is gay, I'm losing everything I had at one point, indefinitely. I guess I kept asking her to stop but she wouldn't so Chloe made her leave, and while Chloe was gone, I threw up all over myself while I cried. A counselor came in and took me to the office where my favorite teacher (guy. suffers from anxiety and depression) let me just vent, since he knows everything I have gone through with bestfriend/boyfriend person. I had to write an incident report because of what Madison did and shit. I got calmed down and when I finally started walking back to class, I saw M with bestfriend/boyfriend's beanie... I died a little and went to class with tears in my eyes, as always. After that class ended, I went to bestfriend/boyfriend- let's start calling him J- and said ""I don't think you mean to, but you're breaking my heart."" and he just looked at me and said he was sorry, and explained him and M have *nothing* going on at all, and he just held her hand for a moment to calm her down. I explained how awful it is, since I used to mean everything to him and now I feel like I mean nothing at all to him. He said, and I quote ""I never meant to push anyone out, especially not *you*. You still mean a lot to me. Like, a lot, I just..."" I then said ""Do we have a chance anymore, J?"" to which he responded to by shrugging and saying ""I don't know."" and then he gave me a hug and I whispered ""I'm sorry"" into his neck and he just gave me the saddest look I've ever seen and went into art textiles...
I know he really doesn't know. He's not saying it because he doesn't have the guts to say no. He's just extremely fucking confused with everything at the moment. This is the first time since he got back that I've actually expressed that this is effecting me negatively, and I didn't even *really* express it to him. Two of our friends are going to talk to him about this tomorrow, because they are both quite pissed about the way he's handling this, especially after today...
I miss what I had, and I don't know why I feel so broken. I really just want to die, to be honest. It would feel a lot better than this... I'm cutting again, I've stopped taking my meds... I just... I've been suffering in silence for a month. Today, I broke that silence, but in the wrong way, and to the wrong person...
Sorry for that wall of text."
s_993_1133,Really feel in the zone in any crisis This has happened twice in this month itself. Once when my father had severe manic episode and I had to take action to get him admitted. And the second time is today when he complained upon mild chest discomfort and I immediately took him to doctor and now he's getting surgery. I am all alone in waiting room writing this post in the waiting room of ICU. Similar stuff has happened in the past. Smaller stuff like last minute studying for exam. I am diagnosed bipolar 2 but not with ADHD. Although I highly suspect I have it as even with my medication of bipolar I am still struggling. And all the struggles are exactly what I see in this sub. Tl; Dr I feel like shit as why can't I function normally like this. I feel frustrated that I can handle crisis and be quite responsible but not the normal day to day grind. Especially at house work and management. This makes me feel like a fraud like I am not trying enough.
s_2338_524,"Do you find yourself wanting to snap every time he cries for longer than 10 seconds? Have you considered PPD? Honestly my depression manifests itself in the form of anger. I get easily angry at everything, screaming at other drivers on the road in my car, snapping at my husband really easily. If you find yourself wanting to snap at every little thing you may need to talk to your doctor."
s_1738_352,"All the time. My meds are just making me succumb to my fits of rage. I have horrible fits of rage. I think I am a lot more angrier than most people. When I get depressed, I get angry and do not get sad. I don't experience guilt but only shame. I don't know what sadness is because I've never experienced it. Only disappointment, shame, and embarrassment.."
s_1773_548,"in need for dental assistance Hello I'm Zach Westerfield. My teeth are getting to the point to where they are starting to rot out. I have a condition where I have no roots. Basically, my roots are all flat which means my teeth would fall out quicker than a normal person's would. My teeth are constantly killing me and I'm afraid I'm going to get an infection. I brush my teeth daily but my family has poor dental hygiene. I don't smile anymore because I'm afraid people will see my teeth. I've lost faith in myself. My self-esteem has gone out the door and I don't feel like myself anymore. I need root canals done, bridges, fillings, some tooth extracations, some crowns, a little bit of everything, (don't know what else), possibly even taken all teeth out which I really don't want. Basically most of all of them need some type of work done on them because of my root condition. I already have 2 teeth that's already about to fall out. I can't afford to get this work done. I need help. Any donation is appreciated. Thank you very much for reading my story. Any donation would be helpful! Thank you and God Bless. Here's my GoFundMe page: <URL>"
s_973_31,"I was just diagnosed with double depression a couple weeks ago, which is basically dysthymia with a major depressive episode happening on top of it. I had the same sort of realization as you a couple months ago when I realized that normal people do not actually feel the same way. My experience with dysthymia has been mostly with my complete apathy. Currently, I only speak to two people regularly. I'm more of a loner and I tend to cut people out of my life easily. While, I'm not suicidal, I also feel like I'm not particularly attached to living. As in, I feel like I would not particularly care as to whether or not I wake up in the morning. I feel quite isolated as a person, although I usually thought this was just my personality since middle school to feel like I cannot relate to other people. Consider talking to someone about this, especially your parents if you are close. Although I've never had a significant relationship in my life where I felt I could confide in another person, including my parents, I know it does a lot of damage to carry this kind of burden yourself."
s_891_1158,"I Quit My Job To Participate In a Sleeping Experiment Three months ago I made the spontaneous decision to get myself involved in an experiment. I am required to lie on a bed for six straight months while sleeping at least twelve hours a day. While I was walking down my street to catch a cab to work a man approached me with a big smile on his face. He told me if I wanted to make 150k in six months. Intrigued, I asked him what I had to do. With a smile he told me to go with him to his office about 3 minutes away walking distance. I promise Im not one to just follow anyone to a location I know nothing about, but South Korea is equipped with cameras all over the streets and roads. Just to be safe I texted my buddy who worked right beside me to call the cops if I dont call him within the next 2 hours, and I texted him the address of the office once we got there. Feeling assured that I had all of my bases covered I followed the man into the building. When we got inside I was amazed by how white everything was. The desks, floors, ceiling, wall, chairs, and even the outfits that the workers inside wore were all solid white. I couldnt help but stare at everything while we walked towards the back of the building. When we get to the back hallway of the building I notice everything is white here except for the doors. There are 3 doors in the back and each door is a different color. The first door is blue, the second is yellow, and the last is red. He stops in front of the blue door and opens it. Holy shit, everything in the room is solid blue. I also notice that there is a huge bed with blankets, pillows, and frame which are all completely blue. It really looks like a normal bedroom with a tv in front of the bed and a laptop in the middle of the bed. He pulled out two chairs and patted on one as he sat in the other. I sat down beside him and he pulled out a piece of paper. Rules was written on the top with a list and a line for me to sign at the bottom. The list stated the following:
1) You will not be able to leave your bed during the six months you are here. 2) You are to sleep for at least 12 hours a day. 3) You have access to the laptop and your phone, but you must never reveal what you are doing. 4) Every two months we will move your bed to another room. We will move you, but it is very important that you stay in the same position you were in while you were lying down. 5) When you receive your food you may put your head up to eat, but at least half of your back must be on the bed. 6) If you need to use the restroom press the button on the side of the bed. We have a way for you to use the restroom without you having to leave the bed. 7) If you feel sick press the button twice and we will send someone to assist you. 8) Once the six months is up you will be given the 150k on a card. If you lose the card we will not be able to replace it for you. X________________________
I feel a little weird about having to stay in the bed for 6 months,
but I do love to sleep and being paid to sleep for 12 hours seems like a complete luxury. Plus, I will still be able to use a laptop and my phone while Im lying down so I wont be bored at all. I can just log into my Netflix and watch every single show I have been meaning to watch. I call up my buddy and tell him that I am quitting my job and that
I found a better opportunity. He asked me what it was, but I had already hung up on him by then. I let my manager know that I am quitting as well and hang up on him while he was cussing me out and screaming at me about how
I completely screwed his team up. I know I just ruined my chances of ever going back to my job and also getting another job in Korea, but once this 6 months is up Im going back to the states and finally starting my own restaurant. Once I signed the contract the man handed me a pair of white pajamas. I changed into the pajamas and got on the bed. The first 3 weeks go by and I start to run out of things to watch on the laptop. I dont have anyone I really talk to, and my buddy has stopped talking to me when I wouldnt tell him where I am working now. I have never been close to my family and whenever I try calling my mother and father they dont pick up the phone. The strange thing is; no matter how bored I am I still feel somewhat happy. I think about how much the money will change my life. I daydream about running a successful restaurant and making a successful chain after a couple of years. I turn on the tv and start flipping through the channels. I get distracted watching this show about people flipping shit over having their cars towed for the next two hours and before I know it a person in white comes in and injects me with something that makes me fall asleep. I havent dreamt in the past three weeks, but today I finally had a dream. I am standing next to my mother and father in a Flea Market. The same place I used to go with my parents once a week until I was thirteen. We are looking at a couple of turtles to get for my aquarium when the man behind the counter approaches us. He points at one particular turtle and tells me this is the turtle I should take home. He turns it around to reveal the face of the turtle and I start to shake. It looks like a turtle everywhere else but the face; the face it had belonged to my old best friend who killed himself when he was 24. He overdosed on heroine in the dorm room we were staying at together the day before graduation. The turtle turned its face at me and slowly closed his eyes while his tongue slid out all the way to the middle of his shell. I woke up in a cold sweat, but immediately felt a wave of peace as I knew it was all a dream. For the rest of the first two months in the blue room I had the same exact dream, but for some reason as soon as I woke up I would automatically feel at peace. When the timer went off signifying that it was the end of two months they took me to the Yellow Room. Two men came in and changed my diaper (embarrassing but true) and took me to the room while I stayed in the same position. The man that brought me here was sitting on the desk waiting for me. He smiles at me and tells me that I am doing perfectly. As long as I keep still on the bed it will all be over before I know it. Everything was the same in this room as the previous room, but everything in here was solid yellow. The first two weeks in the new room I did not have that horrible dream, but I felt a little sad that I had another 4 months to go. I just really wish I had followed what my father wanted me to do and go into law. He already had a firm set up, and he was willing to offer me a six figure salary on a silver platter. He offered to pay for my schooling, but my hard headed self decided to major in English. I remember how betrayed I felt when my best friend died. He was my only friend and now hes gone. I have never found a woman that liked me making me still wait for my first date at the age of 24. I have successfully wasted the first third of my life on nonsense. The night of the sixteenth day in this room I finally had a dream. I am outside of my dorm room in college. I find the key to the room in my hand so I put it in the keyhole and open the door. My friend is sitting on the bed sobbing into his hands. I walk up to him and start patting him on the shoulder and telling him everything will be okay. He starts screaming No It Wont! Nothing Will Ever Get Better! Then he slowly lifts his face up at me, and I stand there in shock. His eyes are full of sadness, but he has an inhuman smile on his face. His lips are stretched out and ripped opened to reach the middle of his cheeks and the bottom of the lip is torn to his chin. He slowly licks the bottom of his teeth before he grabs me and screams at the top of his lungs at me as his blood hits me on the face. This dream comes to me for the rest of the time I am in the yellow room, and each time I get more and more depressed about what he says. Nothing will ever get better, and I know thats the truth. I can make my own restaurant, but it will probably fail. I will be broke again, and now I wont have an opportunity to work in Korea now because I ruined the one reference I had. After the two months is up the timer goes off once more and the same two workers lift me up and take me to the final room. Once again I see the man sitting at the desk. Last room my man, after this you are done. He says that and leaves the room. I look around the room and see that it is identical to the other two rooms but red this time. I did not dream for almost the whole two months I have been in here, but anger has completely taken over all of my emotions. Why the fuck would a father kick his son out of the house for not choosing the career he wanted? I was never a bad kid and I never got in trouble. Whenever I struggled in the past couple years and asked for some help all I got was the phone hung up on me. Everyone that I have loved has left me or fucked me over. My first crush in high school laughed in my face when I asked her to prom. I fucking hate everyone I know, and I just hope they can never feel happiness again. Last night I had a dream. It was the last night I spend in here. I am standing in front of my friend. I know what just happened already by the smirk on his face. He has gone behind my back once again and has decided to go to law school and was just guaranteed the job my dad wanted to give me to him. He has just finished gloating in my face about how much more successful he would be than me, and how he just remained my friend through high school and college so that he could pursue his greatest passion. He told me how my father told him he was the son he wished he had. I already knew about it all before I came into the room. My father called me while I was in the car driving to my dorm telling me how he has no more use for me, and for me to go ahead and get all of my stuff out of his house before the end of the week. Once he is done bragging he lays on his bed and goes to sleep. I creep to his bed with a needle completely filled with heroine and find a vein. I slide the needle in fast and inject all of the heroine in to the vein on his neck. I woke back up with a smile on my face. I think the red room was my favorite."
s_1529_61,"I hate myself because I dont feel like I look my best, and I feel like I will never succeed and be happy."
s_1330_68,"My experiences of meditation so far in detail - No TL;DR, I hope it's an enjoyable read and please share your experiences in the comments. My mind is always busy whenever I start meditation, thoughts are popping in and out like a main road. All what I do is catch myself whenever I start drifting off with them, I don't punish myself for it or even make another thought about it, I just return to my attempted stillness. It still takes me a while, maybe five to ten minutes, for that main road of thoughts to slow it's traffic. When it has quietened down however I notice and know I am on the right path; this path is often accompanied by abstract imagery and completely unrelated to one another thoughts. During my best meditations I keep this up and reach what I consider actual 'meditation'. I perceive this to be actual 'meditation' because this is the furthest I've came in the process. During this stage surreal and extraordinary things happen. During my entire meditation session I am always aware of a rising numbness in my body, I'm used to this from my attempts at astral projection and lucid dreaming. However it can (not always) reach a level in meditation where I feel lighter than air, as if someone has tied perfectly balanced balloons to different points of my body and I'm now no longer effected by gravity. The main 'effect' this 'meditation' has on me though is in my mind. There are multiple states I can enter into but they are all similar in feeling and aftereffect. The main one is where I have zero thoughts and almost feels like my consciousness has been enveloped by a bubble of quiet. The only way I can describe the feeling of it is [this shot](<URL>) in Spirited Away. That specific shot where she is in a bubble of water. It is like I am in a womb where there is no such thing as thoughts, time or worries. Another state of mind I have entered is one of complete and utter peace, I have had this experience recently and is to date the strongest and most humbling meditation experience I've had. Again there were no worries, restrictions or ego but in this experience unlike the last one I was consciously living the outcome instead of being in a bubble of thoughtlessness. It's not that this experience was better or worse than the bubble, it was just different. I cannot describe how great this feeling was, in fact I felt so good, so confident with everything, so at ease, like the world was perfect, I actual felt compelled to cease my meditation and continue on with my day as if this feeling had always been there and always would be. I was lifted into a state where the world was always perfect, good an kind. I did not think or feel any negative thoughts, or emotions or even have memories of them. I feel the lack of negative memories is what caused be to cease my meditation. I believed that that is how my day to day life was. The last state I will explain is about observing my own thoughts or my own mind (I'm not sure myself). I have experienced multiple times a feeling of observing my own mind. This comes when I've reached a point where not thinking about anything is now easy, when I've reached a stage where I am easily able to just sit and be conscious. I feel like I've slogged and dragged myself through the proverbial mud of thoughts and am now above it, free and easy to relax. I feel this state isn't as deep as the two mentioned previous but it is on it's way. Lastly, over my timing meditating I've came to the realisation that I do not need to word my thoughts for them to be thoughts, this may sound obvious but I do not mean it in the sense of remembering something or visualising imagery. I mean it in the sense that, for example, if I'm going over something in my mind, maybe trying to decide the pros and cons of something I'm wording it out in my mind; I'm internally talking to myself. I've realised that I don't need to do that, I can instead take the words out of the equation and just use my emotional consciousness to come to a conclusion. It's generally much faster as I actually know what the best outcome is already, the words are just slowing me down and allowing me to trick myself. It's almost like a mini meditation in a way because I'm putting out the thoughts and allowing my consciousness (me) to decide. After any good meditation session I 'wake up' feeling renewed, relaxed, cozy and level-headed. Because I've flushed out all negativity and nitpicking little thoughts I have no immediate worries or expectations, everything feels good. Slowly however as I remember or come across concerns of the real world, no matter how small, this feeling fades away and I am back to my regular self albeit holding onto what I have experienced and/or learnt during my meditation. Anyway, that is my experience so far summed up. I didn't include everything I've experienced but I didn't want this to be in unnecessary detail. It's also quite difficult describing these things, you really have to have your own experience. Obviously your experience will probably differ and you will have your own almost indescribable states. I didn't put a TL;DR because it is quite impossible to do that with this subject. Thank you for reading and please share your own experiences and revelations."
s_2415_941,Be nice to people. Try to date girls. These two are the things I just don't do. I have never had a girlfriend who cared about me. Few were interested for superficial reasons(my face) but no one emotionally attached to me. I have had 3-4 severe crushes and they all broke my heart before we even became friends. I mean they just refused to understand me and talk to me as if I am some dirty thing that shouldn't be around them. Fuck them man! I also try not to be as nice to people as I was. They seem to think being nice means weak. They try to take advantage of you if you're too nice. I am quite apathetic now and I don't give a fuck about anyone including myself. Now I just want a job that can make sure I survive. I don't want to live(not suicidal) and I just do not want to enjoy my life. It will be taken away and that fear stops me from loving life again. I just don't want to do anything. Just...don't want to exits. Just...survive for another 40-50 years. I am 19 if that matters.
s_2023_201,"Cant stop crying tonight. Ive been having a really hard time with my depression. Ive felt so numb lately and out of focus. Ive had no motivation to do anything. Even just brushing my teeth feels like it takes a ton of effort. On top of that, Ive got a uti AND Im on my period, which hurts pretty bad right now. I have to get my wisdom teeth removed on friday so I cant take any painkillers because they thin your blood. Normally Im able to keep it together, just feel numb and sad all at once and keep it inside. But my boyfriend just started a new job and he has to work nights. Im all alone and I just feel so unbearably sad. Im laying and bed and I just cant stop crying. I have a coping with depression class in the morning but I dont know if Ill go. It feels so pointless and I feel so broken. I wish I could just feel okay for once."
s_775_184,"I know, but I'm pretty pessimistic. They won't get a two thirds majority so it's going to be difficult to restore anything and I don't see how they challenge the political culture that helps antisemitism and national chauvinism to rise. Even when they get rid of Orban, two thirds of hungarian voters continuously voted for him and there is little you can do when the majority of people want the country to go downhill. I don't have a solution though. The overall situation in hungary for the last 100 years can be described with one rude word."
s_2415_566,I have lost motivation. In fact lately I have been pretty depressed.
s_2015_23,"Me [21/M] and my friend [21/F] are potentially in the midst of a fallout because of a start-up company we're helping to run. I'm depressed and struggling with suicidal thoughts, and she is furious with me for being indirect and rude to her. I don't know what to do so I thought I would come here. My best friend / roommate just lost a great deal of respect for me. We are in the midst of starting a business, for which I am the graphic designer. Since it's a start-up, none of us are getting paid for any of the work that we do, yet I have been spending two-three hours daily working on designs for the company. I put all of my personal art/design projects on hold and my grades have been starting to suffer. She hasn't been the most understanding, using ""this is a business, sometimes things aren't fair"" as a reason to drastically shorten due dates for big projects last minute and telling clients that I will do free work for them, as well, without my consent. Regardless, I did not feel very respected, and tried to bring this up, but she reacted negatively every time I did. Being terrified of direct conflict, I internalized all of the negativity I had built up, acting very passive aggressively with her and sometimes ignoring her when she would try to talk to me about projects. This went on for a couple of days until I asked to talk with her earlier this evening. I tried to express my issues with her but she (being a very forward extrovert) conveyed the problems she had with me much more easily. She told me that she didn't deserve the way I have been treating her and that it was childish and that I should have been more direct. I recognized all of this and quietly apologized; I also choked and was pretty silent for most of the conversation. In any case, I plan on leaving the company and trying to fix the mess I have made of my academic semester. The problem is that although we are terrible doing business together, we live together so well and get along amazingly. Before this, we didn't have any problems with one another. It feels really awful to be afraid to talk to the person I consider my best friend, and I hate myself for having hurt her. I've been dealing with depression for a bit over a year now, and this has definitely triggered a lot for me. I feel like a failure as a friend for not being able to effectively talk about my problems, instead acting extremely rude without explanation. I am very severely shaming myself for having hurt a person that I care about, and I have self-harmed and had suicidal thoughts for the first time in a while. If I am failing my classes, have tarnished my living situation and closest friendship, and can't keep a start-up going for less than half a year, then why am I even bothering anymore?"
s_2833_963,Wish I could talk with you the way we used to. Sorry I hurt you. You were the best thing to happen to me and I was the worst thing to happen to you. I should have taken things seriously when there was still time. I'm trying to work the program sincerely. I recognize that I've lost what was good in my life. I think about you all the time. I know words can't undo the hurt I've caused. I love you.
s_2455_120,"How do I pick myself back up? I'm 26, bisexual. i've tried dating for 2 years, but got rejected by everyone and haven't gotten a date. It's damaged my self esteem and confidence a lot. Now I've decided to concentrate on myself. I've decided to stop watching porn, change my appearance, and work out. I feel like I'm not manly enough. I'm a nerdy bookworm that's very quiet. I can't find the energy to do anything anymore. My passion for life has disappeared. I 'm slowly feeling better after talking to people on 7 cups of tea. I've started doing what I wanted, like reading, writing my book. The next difficult habit i need to maintain is exercise, but I can't even do that. How do I pick myself back up?"
s_2953_756,"OP Found girlfriend's ovulation tests Mood spoiler: gt;!Sad but hopeful for the future! lt; [ORIGINAL](<URL>) by [u/fkcorona](<URL>) **Found ovulation tests but we don't plan on having kids and have protected sex. Is she cheating?** So a week ago I opened our closet and noticed that the box where we keep our sex toys looked different. I looked inside and noticed there were 3 things missing. Asked my girlfriend about it, she said she didn't know anything about it somewhat later she then said she took them out and put them somewhere else. When I asked her where she said she forgot where and she would search for them. When I asked her again yesterday, she got angry and said she had no time for looking and was dodging questions. Today I searched for myself. Didn't find them but I found some ovulation tests. We don't plan to get kids. Is there any other reason that shes using these tests? Like medical reasons? ( She has a history with HPV) Or is she cheating? She's not at home right now and I'm getting crazy so I'm asking her before I look like an idiot when I'm asking her tonight. Not a native speaker so sorry for my english Edit. I should have mentioned that we didn't have sex for about a month now and I found these tests in her backpack she uses when shes sleeping at friends Edit 2:When I tried to talk to her calmly about the toys she got really angry fast and left the room. And about asking the friends. Half the time I don't even know at which friends house she is. When I ask her she says stuff like : some girls I met at soccer practices or at a party. Last Sunday when I asked her where she's going she misspoke the name of a friend that I know. She then told me that she always calls her that name (I never head her call her friend that so that was weird too Update: Hours ago my now ex girlfriend came home and after reading the comments on my post I felt like an paranoid idiot, so I decided to drop it. She acted really weird when she came home and I noticed that she had something in her hand when she came out of the toilet and went to our bedroom. Immediately my inner alarm went off and as soon as she left the bedroom I was looking for what she's hiding. I found a used ovulation test and another package with one pill that was missing under her pants under a pillow. I took a picture and after searching the name from the package on Google it's an emergency contraceptive called ellaone. .. [ <URL>](<URL>) I was fucking shocked and disgusted when I read that and I still am. So I immediately went to her and asked about the toys again and why there are these ovulation test under her bed. Before she could lie to me I just told her that I know that she just took that pill. She started fucking laughing, I told her that this is absolutely not funny in any way. She told me to let her alone but I was so mad that I just asked her the same fucking questions until she started crying. She accused me of hacking her phone, that I was spying on her, that I'm the bad one until she finally told me the truth. About a month ago she messaged one of her coaches on Instagram because of some sport lotion and where to get it and all that. They exchanged numbers, kept chatting and started to meet. So the sleepovers were indeed them fucking. When I asked about the toys she just said that I would know where they are and she had the tests because they fucked without protection. She now wants me to leave the apartment and told me that she already had legal advice weeks ago and that I have 1 month to leave because I'm just the subtenent. Knowing that she already planned this makes me so incredibly sick. She's gone now and I feel like I'm dead. I'm not sad or angry I just feel nothing right now. 5 years wasted for nothing. How can someone be this fucking cold I just don't understand. We moved about two years ago to a different city because she wanted to study here. I don't have friends here where I can live until I find something. I don't have a family and 1 month to find a home in one of the busiest cities in Germany. I never thought that I get cheated on. I'm not perfect but I don't think that I deserve this. She's a different person to me and it makes me crazy. Im writing this and hoping it helps me seeing clearer. It feels like a dream. And for all the people who read this have similar suspicions, don't ask reddit for advice. The comments made me almost drop this matter. Trust your gut and don't rely on people who don't know the full picture or are biased. Because in hindsight there where so many red flags but I was just too dumb to see it. I don't care if I misspelled something I just wanted to give an update and maybe clear my head a little. I'm going v for a walk now and hope that tomorrow will look different."
s_2748_421,"I bought things in my depression just trying to feel something... I've been spending money like I have a week left to live. I'm desperately trying to fill the void in my life with things I thought would help me feel better, or at least get a quick break from the constant depression and feel a hint of joy. Unfortunately most of the things I've purchased and always wanted haven't made a difference, other than emptying my bank account. So a warning to everyone: not just manic phase cause spending. Watch your depressions too. Buying things won't help you feel better. On that note, I got a new 55"" led smart TV, [Adopted a super sweet dog] (<URL>) that I will be registering as an emotional support dog (she actually has helped out SO MUCH and gives me a reason to get up and get out) and a drone that I'm trying to learn how to fly, if I don't break it from frustration because I keep crashing it 5 seconds into flight, and GTA V for my Xbox One. The only thing that has helped is my dog. She's amazing. I recommend it if your situation allows it to adopt a sweet dog who will love you unconditionally and doesn't care if you have a bad day. Thanks for reading. Hopefully I'll be through this soon because I don't know how much more I can take."
s_1404_57,"I'm very stressed and I know why, but what can I do about it? Please help me I'm a 21 year old man. Right now I have summer break, but I still feel as if I'm always working 24/7. I never enjoy anything in life (I'm also depressed and I have many mental issues) and I'm always tired and unmotivated about everything. And every single day feels as a heavy work day, even if I am at home having ""free"" time. There are 2 reasons of my high stress. Reason 1 is being an unhappy single and reason 2 is trying so hard to find someone, which costs alot of effort and time. Before you read this, I am NOT here for dating advice, so please dont, unless you have a magic trick that will 100% sure work for ME. Since 4 years ago when I was 17, I started developing interest in girls. Now, 21, I still never had a relationship, but even worse, I never had a date or even a female friend even though I have tried different strategies which I failed. I never hugged a girl either. I have exactly 0 experience with girls. Why am I so stressed? It is because those 4 years, first of all: being single makes me unhappy. And second: I have been trying very hard to find a girl, to get the first date in my life or to even make a female friend. Every single day I waste my time on ~~dating~~ i mean ENDLESS SWIPING apps. ( read: neverending swiping but never getting a match), asking on reddit how to get a girlfriend, asking google how to get a girlfriend, thinking about being single forever, you know what I mean. I waste alot of my time and energy in doing research about how to find a girlfriend but trust me, I have really tried going outside and trying out dating apps, I really tried stuff too. Nothing works. So how can I feel less stressed? Find the love of my life and be happy, but this won't happen any time soon, it seems impossible. So what can I do to get my mind off the impossible? I really have hobbies and interests, I have a life so that's not the problem here. The only missing part in my happiness is having a girlfriend. I feel very frustrated and tired and stressed and im starting to hate life. Seeing guys getting girlfriends as if it's the easiest thing in the world just makes me angry. These days even 10 year old kids have relationships. I guess my purpose on earth is just to be a loser. I am so obsessed with dating and trying everything that I have no more focus on anything else in my life. I dont care about family anymore, I dont care about my friends anymore, I dont care about my hobbies anymore, I dont care about study anymore, I dont care about anything except I just want a girlfriend. How can I be happy without having a partner? Really, I have study, I have a great family, I have friends, I have a hobby, my life is fine. Except for being girlfriend-deprived which really bothers me alot. It seems impossible to focus on anything else than how to get a girlfriend. Is there anything I can do to feel more happy and relaxed and stop hating life? Whenever I play videogames or do whatever to relax and try to enjoy, it doesnt really make me happy because my frustration of being single and fear or being single forever, stays in the background of my thoughts no matter what i'm doing or focusing on. And whenever I try to relax or study or do anything, I feel guilty towards my dating life, thinking if i don't take action I will never find a partner What should I do to feel happy and not frustrated and stressed??? Am I asking for the impossible here? Because honestly I thikn there is no way I can be happy without a partner. I just have this desire, and it's really strong and it's growing stronger. I can't just remove my desire, can I? Edit: please don't tell me to get therapy or medication. I already tried that and, just no. + therapy would also take even more of my time and energy, which I don't have this year."
s_2815_1557,"Round Faces Justine ran into our room around 3 a.m. again. Third time this week. She was screaming and sobbing about the things with round faces staring at her from the window. I turned on the lamp and looked over at Carla, whose scowl was telling me it was my turn. So, off I went with Justine into her bedroom. No monsters. I kissed her forehead and told her to go back to sleep. Carla headed off to work the next morning and brought Justine to school on the way. I was left at home, like usual, to clean and do other housewifely chores. Its not that I particularly minded; Carla makes great money and we both agreed itd be good for Justine to have one of her moms around when she got home from school. Still, it was boring to be all alone in the house for so many hours of the day. Cleaning like a fiend helped, though. I like to keep the place spotless. Once Id finished the downstairs, I trudged up the steps and took care of our room and the bathroom. As I cleaned Justines, I noticed the window nearest her bed had some nasty smudges on the outside. Greasy stuff. I took the Windex and leaned out the window and got as much of it off as I could. I figured a bird mustve hit it or something. When the outside was clean, I closed the window and saw it was still greasy. It took me a second to realize the same stuff was also on the inside. I made a mental note to ask Justine what the hell she was playing with, which I promptly forgot about. The day sighed into night. We all had dinner together, watched Mulan for the 20th time, and went to bed. After midnight, in shrieked Justine. Same story. Frustrated and weary, I got out of bed before Carla, picked up Justine, and carried her to her room. I yanked back the covers and got into bed with her. She calmed down pretty quick and was out like a light in ten minutes. Of course, I was wide awake. I explored the dark bedroom with my eyes. There were a lot of weird shadows, thats for sure. Justine could pretty easily see those as monsters, especially with her imagination. Plus there was a soft, arrhythmic popping sound coming from the radiator next to the bed. I remembered how terrified of the dark I used to be when I was her age. I became barely aware of the popping sound getting louder before sleep took me. The god damn birds woke me up at 4:30 the next morning, right as the sun was starting to come up. Justine was still asleep. Behind the shrill somebody fuck me pleas of the birds, that popping sound was still going on. Without waking Justine, I slid out of bed and got close to the radiator. I could still hear the noises, but they were no louder. Only when I pressed my ear to the floor did the volume increased. There was more to the sound than just the popping. I murmured something about the mother of the guy who installed our pipes and went downstairs to put on a pot of coffee. I filled the machine with water, measured out some coffee, and flipped the switch. I turned around to grab a banana off the counter. In front of me, close enough to embrace, was something. Its body was around 5 feet tall, ashy grayish-white. Perched atop a thick neck was a round head the size of a beachball. Tiny, red eyes stared at me, looking like maraschino cherries pressed into bread dough with careless thumbs. The mouth was huge and gaping. There were no teeth, just raw nubs surrounding rows and rows of purple gums that decreased in size with each row until disappearing at the void of its four-uvulaed throat. I couldnt move. Before the first second of my scream had elapsed, the creature extruded an oily yellow bubble from the back of its throat. It enveloped my head and shoulders and I stared down its gurgling throat as I howled in terror. The thing moved closer to me, pops and clicks spilling from its mouth. As my face slid into the maw, everything changed. My eyes opened to the taste of warm pink. Scents of tangerine and honeysuckle danced through my ears as my fingers traced the wall, hearing the thumps of heartbeats. I parted my lips to see four of the creatures facing one another. Their mouths oozed thick, yellow fluid onto my kitchen floor. I walked over to them and put my hand on one of their heads. It turned around and followed me up the stairs, yellow fluid wetting our feet as we walked. We first visited Justines room. Shed just woken up. She, too, screamed, but was enveloped in a mucousy bubble as quickly as I had been. Once her head disappeared into the mouth of the creature, she was okay. We held hands as we walked into the bedroom where Carla still slept. This time, the creature floated through the air and hovered above my sleeping wife. The fluid that stopped gouting from its mouth when it bubbled Justine began to flow again. Carla woke instantly, her gasping yell muffled by the vomitous liquid splashing on her face and down her throat. She thrashed and struggled to move, but, for whatever reason, she couldnt get up. The liquid became viscous and dark, verging on orange. It was then we saw steam rising from Carla. As Justine and I watched, Carla dissolved. It took a little while; nearly an hour. I looked over at Justine and thought her eyes looked brighter than usual, even a little red. And her smile was so much wider. I grinned, also, feeling the corners of my mouth touch my ears. We mounted the bed and dragged our tongues across the pulp that was once Carla. She burned a little as we swallowed, but we quickly got used to it. Our friend still floated above us, its mouth extruding a thick, greasy bubble. Justine and I reached up to touch it, letting it run between our fingers and down our arms. When the bubble hit our faces, the creature moved downward to take our heads in its mouth. Like the last time, everything changed again. We were back to normal. No creatures, no weird sensory or facial changes. Just stunned, amnesic confusion. Justine immediately fell asleep in my lap. I couldnt imagine what kind of stress she must have been under. The same went for me, too. Stress always made me tired, and now I was exhausted. I fell back on the bed. It took me a moment to realize why the bed was soaked. After another moment, I figured out what the taste in my mouth was."
s_976_103,"Ok, maybe go back and read my comment when you're feeling a little less emotional about the issue. I'm definitely not ""chewing you out"". I have in fact been in a very similar situation to the one you describe and I'm merely asking you to look a little deeper than the surface issues in an attempt to figure out a solution. For the past few years I had been having issues with my partner, he would rarely initiate and would never reciprocate if I did, making me feel unwanted and undesirable, I gained weight, lost my fitness level, I blamed it all on the lack of sex, I became fixated in the sex I wasn't having. Then I was diagnosed with major depression. It wasn't the lack of sex and feeling undesirable that made me gain the weight, it was that I'd stopped caring about everything, stopped dancing, singing, going to the gym, all the things I had loved and had kept me physically healthy. I was suffering from the effects of personal and vicarious trauma due to the work I do. My mood was very low, I was prone to anxiety attacks and inappropriate emotional reactions. I finally got help, medication and therapy, and now things are starting to normalise, our sex life has returned, we've even done it twice in one day! Unheard of before. It turned out that my moods were affecting him as well. I'm not saying that this is the issue, all I'm saying is to look a little deeper and stop playing the games (like the one where you stopped touching her boobs altogether because she asked you not to while the kids are around-which, while it would totally not bother me, is a pretty normal and healthy boundary to draw) Start trying to see things from her perspective."
s_1044_58,"Father Knows Best It's been my father and me since I was four. I have hazy memories of my mother drinking, and her husband squinting at me in suspicion, and screaming, and the rainy night when my father came back for me. They called me by a name that was not my own and there wasn't an Amber Alert until twenty-four hours later. When people ask after her, I just shrug and say that it's been my father and me alone for as long as I could remember. *Obviously his father is just a crazed serial killer who kidnapped him!* the intrepid and well-read audience deduces. My father is my biological father, both of us cut from the same fine silk cloth, our raven hair falling in faces that drove people to madness. He just left me with my mother for a while, until I was old enough to learn from him. My father taught me much from his Armani-clad knee, his classical face so full of love. He showed me how to hunt our quarry with a smile and then bleed them dry. How to want for nothing by tugging on an ego or laughing at a stupid joke. How to cajole and con in all kinds of vicious, underhand ways. Such is the nature of our kind, passed from father to son. Father made sure I got into elite prep schools that smoothed the way for my top research university and studies into biology, but didn't really understand why I wanted these things. He thought it made much more sense to chase after wealthy, lonely people and get their fortunes out of them, like he has done since he was a sixteen year old living it up in the French Riviera. ""Laurent, light of my life, flesh of my soul,"" Father would sigh when I'd come down for breakfast after reading medical texts all night. "" You'd be so much prettier if you got your nose out of those books and smiled."" But you all don't particularly care about my father. I did undergraduate work in my university's biology lab, doing things such as cleaning equipment and prepping for the Bio 200 series labs. Not exciting, but it would make me a shoe-in for the hypercompetitive Genetics PhD program and forged industry and academic connections. The only downside was Harrison. Harrison was one of the many graduate students. People liked Harrison, for reasons I cannot understand beyond his apparent attractiveness. He played lacrosse and was a blond and bragged about his 'gains' in weightlifting. He spent more time talking loudly than working. Intolerable. Harrison wanted me bent over the lab table like so many before him. He'd come around my station and try to slip his hand under my lab coat, laughing when I'd bat it away. No amount of disinterest and my disinterest was legendary could make him go away. It seemed, in fact, that my rejection made him hungrier, drawing him closer and closer to frenzy. Obsession, the desperate desire to possess, was one of the downsides of being what I am. At the end of my junior year, the head of the labs catered a meal for all the student workers. It was loud, becoming more drunken and annoying the longer it went on. I left early. The night had been dark and clear, and when Harrison came from the shadows to grab my arm was the first time I felt real fear. It had always been I was the predator and the humans were the prey. It felt like a subversion of the natural order when Harrison hissed in my ear, ""Take me to your apartment, pretty boy, I know how to make you less of a bitch."" He didn't lessen his grip as he practically pulled me up the steps of my apartment building, his disgusting hands crawling up my shirt as I unlocked my door. When it was shut, Harrison immediately slammed me up against it and threw the deadbolt, alcohol soaked mouth crashing down on my own. I wanted to cry. ""Not so haughty now,"" Harrison said. "" Always knew you wanted it, you little slut."" He ripped at my shirt, and my fear suddenly turned to anger. I've been offered Ferraris and mansions and diamonds for what this man decided he was entitled to take. I've made far greater men than this beg and plead for the privilege of my time, and he decided that he deserved to just steal it from me? ""No,"" I said, and kicked him in the balls. Harrison fell to the floor, groaning in pain. I was on him in an instant, knee pressing into his crotch and hands around his neck. Cold instinct, a primordial drive to claw and to bite and to *survive* at all costs that thrummed through my whole species, took over. ""I wanted you to leave me alone,"" I crooned at him, as sweet as a lover between my sheets. "" You couldn't even manage that."" ""I'm sorry!"" Harrison yelled. I didn't really care about false platitudes instead, I took out his jugular with my teeth. It was satisfying in a raw and visceral way, feeling this pathetic creature struggle and then still beneath me as I chewed my way through his neck down to the vertebrae. I pulled away, crouched over him and covered in blood, my breaths coming in pants as I realized that I was soaked with arterial spray and blood was leaking across my floors. Suddenly, there was the dead body of a popular student in my living room and blood everywhere, his phone pinging with texts and notifications. People would notice if he went missing and even if I mounted a self-defense plea, the detectives would surely notice his gnawed-through neck. No amount of batting my eyelashes would spare me jail. I sat on top of his corpse and tried to figure out how to dispose of a body and clean up the evidence within the six hours of darkness I had left, without having a lick of experience in the subject. My brain immediately gave that up and I instead ran to my eternal source of comfort and care. ""Papa,"" I whined into the phone. "" Papa, I killed someone and there's blood everywhere."" ""You're supposed to be good at planning, I told you to make an emergency kit,"" Father scolded me. "" I should let you deal with this mess yourself, you're an adult now."" ""*Papa,*"" I cried. Father sighed. ""I can't deny you a thing, *mon chou,*"" Father said. "" Unlock your door and take off your ruined clothes, Papa will fix it."" Papa did. Father came with industrial cleaner and plastic sheeting, helping me roll up the body and then wrap it in those black contractor bags. He also took my bloody clothing and put it in another bag, and left me to clean up my floor while he disposed of the body. After everything was cleaned up, Father sat with me in my little apartment, my head in his lap as he told me stories about his first kill and how he had called his father as well to help him clean it up. His brothers had teased him mercilessly for it. ""Just a little sloppy, darling,"" he cooed. "" You'll get better at it."" It felt like the entire campus was out hunting for Harrison, whole crews of people combing through the woods where Harrison's factory reset cell phone and bloody jacket were found, but nothing else. The search tapered off, the disappearance becoming a campus legend. No one bothered to search the nearby lake in the opposite direction. My father had a cabin on the lake, inherited from my second stepmother, nestled cozily into the woods. Sometimes I go there, when the lake is smooth and brilliant blue, my feet bare against the pebbled shore, and when I stare into the depths of it I smile. I *have* gotten a lot better at it. My father taught me. ---
[more about us](<URL>)"
s_1749_782,I'm drawing a blank here. Orange is the new Black just put a new season out. But Netflix won't work. So that doesn't help. Ummmmm. Yeah no I've got nothing. Maybe I will masturbate in the shower later. Looks like that's my opportunity for something that isn't shitty. But then again I might not have the energy.
s_1404_852,physically and mentally exhausted competely. How can I get the strength back once again? read my previous post to see how stressed I am (24 / 7) I have no energy. Absoluterly no energy. Physically and mentally. My body feels too weak to even move my fingers over a keyboard or walk to the bus. Mentally I have no energy either. I can stare at a screen for hours without getting anything done. Im a weak failure How can I get the strength back to fight through life again?
s_701_793,"I know that my life may not be completely ruined but I just can't help that I could've done so much more if it weren't for me being ""ill"". I've even said to my self, ""what's the point in going back if I'm a year and a bit behind everyone"". Nothing feels like a huge accomplishment, it feels more like a completely failure in my life, and that I've dug a hole that I can't get out of because of something that I couldn't have controlled, or maybe I could've controlled it... I don't know any more. I have positive times where I say to myself, ""maybe school just isn't/wasn't for me right now and that I've learned a lot of stuff myself and maybe that'll come in handy"", but no one else seems to agree... I know that I have to go back to school, that's not what I am even saying to people, I'm just saying that I've learned a lot of somewhat useful things while I wasn't at school, but people always seem to disagree when I bring that up thinking that I mean that I won't go back to school, and it shoots my confidence all the way back down again. Thank you for making me feel better and actually listening to what I have to say, unlike others in my life right now."
s_996_372,"My health. Being dizzy makes being productive extremely difficult. As so I'm left feeling pessimistic on a daily basis. I lost my job last week, so that hasn't helped much, and it was due to being dizzy. I hope to go back to school in the fall, but I have spent the past week trying to get ahold of the admissions office and the administrator for the school, and so far nothing. My job was working as a SPED Paraeducator at an elementary school. My dream job is to work as an Art Therapist helping children and adolescents. Shitty health + losing job because of health + awaiting an important phone call = a shitty time
Edit: words"
s_1404_1094,"why I can't unaddict myself from phone at night? when I go to bed I stay on my phone too long and forget to sleep. I already tried apps that lock my phone daily at the same time but it didnt help me because a few minutes before the bedtime I would just go into my phone settings to disable those apps. Another reason is if I'm in the middle of making a note, having a important chat conversation, doing anything important, it would not be good if my phone locked in the middle of that. So these apps dont really help me. Once I put my phone away I can easily stay off it, but putting it away is very hard. MOST of these apps can also easily be bypassed (like 99% of them) I won't say how because I dont wanna ruin it for others When im in bed first of all I simply forget to put my phone away and even if I realize it, I dont have the motivation to do it. Because of this I never get enough sleep at nights where I have to wake up early. What can I do? My phone is important because I do almost everything on it, so I need it."
s_888_447,Just came back from a fast food binge 15 down the shitter and also 2000 calories over my goal. I hate myself.
s_2946_1550,I have this problem too.. It's hard to accept fault for our mistakes
s_993_959,I try to avoid coffee as it messes up my sleep cycle. I am already on sleep meds. Yes seems like I have to force myself. Also to do something. I have lost interest in everything it seems. That's the reason I don't want to get up. I am on leave now will join work in 10 days. I want to utilise this time better.
s_1900_576,"Thank you! I do try hard to become each person instead of making each person me. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail. Glad you liked it!"
s_2338_795,Mine hasn't been too bad until this last week. I just want to cry because I'm so tired but nothing is working. I'm actually eating a lot of candy right now hoping that I'll sugar crash and pass out as a last resort (thank God for no GD).
s_426_289,"Game Crash = Comp Ban / SR Lost Question: Why can't Blizzard detect a game crashing or packet issue vs just someone quitting the game to be a troll? Error:Overwatch: Error report Overwatch has crashed in the graphics driver. If your drivers are not up-to-date, please consider updating them. If the problem persists, please contact customer service. [ More help: BLZOWCLI00000004] I had this happen a few times today and everything is up to date. Now I've lost 130ish SR over this and I keep getting banned. Why can't I just reboot the game and rejoin the game I crashed from? I should at least have the option to do so and not get punished. You should have up to a min to rejoin."
s_1666_218,"Thanks for posting this! As someone who has been in deep depression (and still in the midst of it), everything that you mentioned is true. There are times when I just feel worthless, guilty, and lonely. There are times when I want to just break down and cry. There are times when I just wanted to end it all, slowly vanish and disappear away from this world. However, despite all these challenges, it is posts like these that makes me feel better, knowing someone out there is there for me at the end of the day :)"
s_1404_580,"How to be sure that for me, the cause of being always tired is my depression? I have depression for 4 years now and I'm always tired. No matter how much I sleep: 8, 10, 12 hours, I'm stll sleepy at day. I went to doctors and hospitals for a bout a year long and they were always unable to find the cause of my low energy. I'm always extremely tired and I think the only cause is my mental health. How can I make sure, that this is really the cause? Don't tell me to discuss with my therapists. Already done that many times and didnt gain any wisdom of it."
s_2449_126,"I've been writing for two years, but honestly I don't have the energy anymore. I'm anxious. .I'm worried about failure because I never myself anymore. I'm a miserable fucking teenager trying to hide his depression from people because no one likes these 'depressed people'. Instead, I try to act carelessly, as if I don't give a fuck while I'm actually a prostitute of feelings, and it's not going well for me, too. I've no control, so I figured that if I'm already destroying myself I might as well do it intentionally. Nonetheless, self-destruction doesn't feel good, too."
s_2946_182,yea i am less angry and more positive and happier etc
s_723_107,"We (Dejobaan) have been reasonably successful (we are on our 17th title, and will hopefully be in business for years to come), and while I'll often work 60 hour weeks, a good work/life balance always helps. Here's why I think so: 1. Taking time away helps me solve problems in unusual ways. When I'm working, my brain tends to focus narrowly on a problem. So, I'll tend to explore something deeply but ignore anything that's not obvious. ("" Damnit, this level is taking too long to load. I must optimize the loading functions to shave off 1.1 seconds."") The time I spend walking, showering, or taking a crap (not all at once, usually) is time my brain just wanders, and can make really neat connections. ("" Oh, holy crap. Instead of spending five hours getting a 0.5% decrease in loading time, what if I just do something to entertain the player during load?"") It allows me to be more creative in my design for the same reason. When I'm not in the ""MUST BE PRODUCTIVE AT ALL COSTS"" mode, I'll start to think about how to give our games more character. For example, in one of our games, I decided to stick elevator music into the level select screen; in another, I drafted a(n admittedly amateurish) rap song for the title. These were tiny things, but people loved them, and the press talked about both. Related to #1, limiting my hours forces me to solve problems in ways other than ""Gee, I'll just toss more of my time at it."" For example, I'll spend 10 hours talking to people about helping me on level design rather than committing myself to spending 8 hours a week for 8 weeks designing all the levels, myself. And related to /that/, the more time I spend socializing, the more people I randomly meet - and some of those help me make better games. For instance, some years ago, I decided to suck up my pride and try to learn salsa dancing. Through that, I ended up meeting the dude who's now my biz dev guy (I would never have expected that). I also met my wife though that, and aside from that being great in its own right, she works in a creative industry, and consults for us. ( She gives us good rates.) Similarly, taking time to get to know other game devs socially has resulted in project collaborations. Suddenly, there's this network of people who want to work together on all these amazing projects. So, I'll agree with those folks posting here: if you're spending 90h/week working, you are probably missing out on a lot of awesome stuff!"
s_439_76,"I have some hobbies, things that I used to think that I liked to do. But I've come to realize that all of those things are really just distractions. I do them and I can't forget about feeling like shit for a little while. I don't derive any happiness from the act of doing those things."
s_1499_540,"My uncle died. My drug-addicted, homeless, thieving uncle died on October 29th. And here's the thing nobody wants to talk about: it's disgusting. I am old enough to remember who he was before the hard drugs. I am old enough to remember my Uncle Mike, a funny if a little troubled guy that was six years older than my mom, four years older than my other uncle. I remember being very young, he came to my grandparent's house for holidays and barbecues in those days, I'm pretty sure he actually had somewhere to live then. Then he stopped showing up. Mom told me a few months in that he was in jail. I don't remember what the first time was for, but it was the first of many. Theft, possession, loitering, resisting arrest. He wasn't a good man anymore. And the terrible thing is that it's not like the decks were stacked against him - he had a family that loved him very much and desperately wanted him to come home, to get better. He seemed like he wanted to, too, at least for a little while. My grandpa had this old fishing boat that my uncle stayed on for a while. He had this cat that he brought with him, simply named ""Kitty"", who was essentially feral but adored my uncle Mike. He stayed on that boat for months, and he was only allowed inside when my grandparents were home. For good reason. I think I only said hi to him once or twice. He was all but a stranger to me at that point, he'd been gone for years and my memories of him were mottled by stories of his latest arrests. And then he stole from them. He broke into my grandparent's house - my grandparents, who are a little secluded by choice and who just want the best for everyone around them, who let me live with them briefly when my mom was off her bipolar meds and kicking me out every other week, who would sneak a crisp twenty dollar bill into your hand because they just knew you needed it. He broke into their house and stole my grandma's jewelry - stuff that probably didn't net him much, it was all sentimental stuff, her wedding set from the 50's, some family jewelry. That kind of stuff. No diamonds or flashy jewels. Just enough gold for him to pawn off to get some drug money. And he was gone again. I saw him once or twice after that - one crossing the road in front of my mom and I's car, just weeks after he'd robbed my grandparents, in their neighborhood. We didn't know if he was casing the place or what. My grandma said they hadn't talked to him. She didn't want to press charges. My grandpa did - my previously gentle grandpa, who spent a lot of time in his room watching old westerns, who himself dealt with depression and the fight to get back to normal, to enjoying life, he wanted to go after Mike with the full extent of the law. Grandma stopped him. I wish she hadn't. Maybe if they'd locked him up again things would have changed. Probably not, though. The last time, several years ago. I was in my mom's car, again, passenger seat, texting someone before I went into my grandparent's house. We were parked right in front and he walked right out from behind the house and waved. I just looked back down at my phone. It was too soon after he'd stolen from them, I was old enough to understand that he wasn't going to change. Then I get a call last night, while I'm dealing with my own feelings about a police-involved shooting in my old neighborhood, while I'm trying to run a handful of events for a program I volunteer for, while I'm stressed about my job and trying to diet and planning my wedding. He overdosed, right on the beach. He always loved the beach. Couldn't stand to be away from it. No wonder he'd basically lived there for the last decade and a half. Lived and died there, right on the sand. And my grandparents, who tried to give their eldest son everything they could, one of whom tried to help him even when he'd stolen from them and betrayed their trust in the deepest of ways... my grandparents get to collect his body and his measly possessions. A final thud. It's not a surprise. I cried for three minutes. And then I told my fiance I wanted ice cream. So we went to the store, and we got ice cream, and we watched a movie. And we went to bed, and he left for work this morning. I have today off anyway. I feel like I should be miserable, like I should be crying or upset in any way. I don't want to talk about it with family. I'm afraid it'll all come spilling out. I'm still mad at a dead guy. At least I don't have to be ashamed of him anymore."
s_258_544,"Im 27; only people in my life are my husband and my mom and sometimes it makes me feel incredibly pathetic to know how lonely I am though I also feel no human connection to anyone but them so its hard. I had a traumatic childhood too and idk, I have a theory that just fucks us up for life because I have at least 10 years or more of my life with no memories at all so its really hard to process who I am, who Ive been and how I came to be this ghost of a person now . I wanna have hope but it feels hopeless ."
s_1768_341,"[Help] First time posting in here, starting to lose myself to the anxiety again. Hello r/anxiety, I hope it is ok for my first post here to be asking for help. I have been dealing with anxiety since I was a child (5/6 years old) and have been diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and probable Panic Disorder (waiting to see a counsellor for formal diagnosis) I also have depressive issues caused by the anxiety episodes. I take citalopram 10mg daily as a maintainance dose, and for the last two years, this has been working really well, and the anxiety attacks have been managable. I have also had a series of CBT sessions, and one on one counselling sessions to provide ways for me to cope with the anxiety. I used the Australian 'What, me, worry?' program during my most recent CBT. But I digress from my current problem. A few weeks ago, my grandad (dads dad) was suddenly diagnosed with cancer. A few days later it was declared inoperable and untreatable. He has been given about 10 weeks at most to live, though he is deteriorating fast and the cancer is spreading aggresively. I am currently living in the USA and my family are all in the UK. I am travelling home next week to hopefully spend some time with him before he passes. Since my dad told me about his diagnosis, I have been struggling more and more each day with my anxiety. I have started having panic attacks at night, some that are waxing and waining all night. Recently I had a panic attack that started at 7pm(ish) and came on and off in 10 minute cycles until around 4am. The panic attacks are causing me to suffer from upset stomach and nausea (IBS stress related), but because one of my triggers is fear of vomiting, this in turn causes me to have greater anxiety, and more panic attacks. I am getting very tired now, from lack of sleep, and the physical exertion of the panic attacks. I can feel that I am shrinking back into my head, unable to get out of this vicious cycle of panic and fear of panic. I am starting to feel detached from the day to day family life I have, and I am just going through the motions each day, doing the jobs I always do, just to make things seem normal for everyone else. I am getting scared that this is not going to end. I am scared of everything at the moment to be honest. I am living right on the edge of breakdown and really don't know which way I am going to fall. My husband tries his best to help me, but having never had a problem with anxiety, and being the most laid back person I know, he finds it hard to understand why I can't just snap out of this, think positive, don't worry etc. I am calling my doctor tomorrow to make an appointment this week. Hopefully we can work something out to get me through the next few weeks. So, I guess what I am asking you r/anxiety, is for any tips, thoughts or experiences that will make me be able to see that this will end, that I will get through this. And how to keep the anxiety demons at bay. Thank you xxxx"
s_1660_891,I still have a strong sex drive but can''t cum
s_1601_96,"I was lucky enough to have attended private school all of my life (except for two months, since I emigrated in April during 2nd grade, and only public school allowed me to get in for the remaining two months). From Grade 5, I attended a catholic smallish school, and on top of that, from Grade 7 to Senior Year, we were all girls. Bullying didn't really happen, and everyone fitted in (no one was left alone, unless they chose to be alone). Girls fight and hate on each other behind each other's back haha. However, my self-esteem dropped immensely some time in Grade 8. I have no idea why. I know it's related to school. I became extremely self-conscious. One of the many reasons I like to blame was that it was in Grade 8 that we started a project, which was a student exchange with kids our age in Mexico. I personally really wanted to just build a cool friendship with someone, and I was unfortunately matched with the 'hottest guy'. We talked, but soon enough I noticed him using me to get to the pretty girls of my year. When they finally came in Grade 9, I went to him to say hi, and he was like ""Hey! You're 'train_subject9951', right?"" and I was really happy he remembered me, but seconds later, he turned his back and started talking to another classmate of mine, who, for some reason, decided not to wear much that day. I was both unhappy and kind of shocked, because, well, I'm not a pretty girl. Felt like all the attention I'll ever get from there on would be from being pretty, which I am not. Girls like girls with whom they can relate to, and most girls of my school were into partying, makeup ... being stereotypical teenage girls. I was not like them. My social skills then dropped to absolute zero, my self-esteem reached an all-time low, and I slowly started secluding myself. I'm having a hard time undoing all of that."
s_1775_17,Sorry but I don't sleep at night.
s_1230_158,"How fun can you realistically have when you live on allowance from your parents? Some even say that life begins at 30. Thanks to many things, especially iata, relationship advice and fds (RED FLAG!!!), I am now finding my inner voice and becomming more assertive. When I was young, even up in my twenties, I was like a servant for others, If someone asked me a question I would answer and be ""polite"". I don't have any problems questioning why someone wants information about me today. It's embarassing, but I always identified with the supporting characters in movies, and never the main character. Some even told me ""be the main character in your life"" and ""stand up for yourself, or people will walk over you"". Teenage years is about studying, finding yourself and getting to know the world, and this continues well in to your twenties. As a millenial I see how hard it was before, and how things are changing. Just that it's not cool to shame someone, when I grew up the teachers could bully children, and everyone shut up about it. Kids are supposed to be seen, not heard. Boys will be boys, be available for them. I have hope for the future."
s_1404_28,"I hate myself. The worst feeling on earth is when something was your own fault. I lost a good friend. Please read the bottom of this post. I met someone online when I was playing minecraft on a server. We became great friends and talked almost every day, for 6 months, about the deepest topics. He was suicical but because of his friendship with me, he didnt do it. now 18 days ago it happened. I was trying a new medicine for my mental issues and apparently that was the wrong med for me because i acted really weird. I started acting like a dick to my friend, for literally no reason, because he didnt make me mad, he did nothing. I sweared at him and fatshamed him. Again, for no reason. I didn't mean anything that I said to him. Not at all. So he blocked me and I panicked, I created alt accounts to contact him to apologize, I tried to explain and convince him I was really sorry but he didnt wanna be friends anymore. A few days later, I suddenly got a message from his older account with only the word ""goodbye"" and he went offline to never be seen again. Now, I just noticed his discord accounts are gone. I believe it takes 14 days for them to be deleted, so he must have done it right after saying goodbye to me. I think he might have suicided, because he was already suicidal and the friendship was over because of my stupid actions. I hate myself so much. I have had 2 nights of dreaming about him coming back. But he deleted his discord and insta, there seems to be no way I can find out if he is still alive. I really really really want to know if he is still alive. I know his real first name, his age, his country and ip-address and he also sent me multiple photos taken in real life. WHAT CAN I DO???"
s_2338_1069,"Wellbutrin vs. Zoloft: More of a question for Wellbutrin-takers. I was on Zoloft for about a year at a high dosage. The only positive thing I could say about it was that I lost 50 lbs on it. I stopped my habit of emotional eating. Everything else sucked. I became an apathetic zombie. My sex drive was way down, and it has remained so after being off it for a month now. I'm now sure that I don't need an SSRI, but I do need some kind of medication. I don't have insurance to visit my doctor, but I've been going to my GP my entire life and he'll change my prescription with a free phone or email consultation. I've heard good things about sex drive and personality on Wellbutrin and I think an NDSI might help me a lot more. What side effects have you experienced on Wellbutrin? If you have experience with both Zoloft and Wellbutrin, which do you do better on and why? I'm aware that my brain chemistry is specific to me, but I'd like to hear personal experiences."
s_2456_280,"I'd much prefer to date a fellow ace, purely personal preference, but if I did fall for someone, I wouldn't turn them down or cut off my own love just because they were sexual. My libido is very low, to the point where I could honestly go the rest of my life without sex and probably not really care."
s_2334_126,"I woke up ok this morning, and as the day wears on I am feeling higher and higher anxiety that I cant explain. And I took my anxiety meds."
s_2013_16,Extreme fatigue I feel tired and sleepy even after sleeping a lot and this has been for a week. I've been eating like normal ever since I thought I feel way better but One day I've experienced belching and mucus in throat. I then ate less so the belching went away and mucus was treated with claritin but I still feel really tired all the time even after sleeping a lot. Like I could be sleeping again right after I slept and take a nap. Is there a relationship?
s_2402_441,"That is really not accurate, I have no sense of self-worth or self-esteem."
s_2143_252,"So, how do I tell my parents that I been having suicidal thoughts? So ever since November, I have not been the same. My dad cancer has spread even more and it made me in a darker place that I thought I would never be in. I get up every morning with nothing to really look forward too. The only thing that gets me excited is movies and TV shows which is really sad but honestly the truth. I used to love Skiing and I just went for a few days, but its not the same as it used to be. I told my social worker what I have been feeling down and thinking suicidal thoughs which come and go away, but now she is scared for me. Which makes it worse. She wants me to go book an appt with the doctor and she wants me to tell my parents. My parents know nothing, they think I'm a happy go lucky girl who likes to make others laugh, but when I get home and go into my room its a whole other thing. A part of me just thinks its my head talking and I may not actually be depressed but i have no idea. I just don't want to be judged you know."
s_2004_4,"Man I'm losing interest in everything, literally everything i used to game 5-8 hours per day and now i game 3-4 hours"
s_2449_143,"I don't know what I'm dealing with There're so many thoughts running through my mind right now and yet I've no clue how to even begin this. I'm 17 years old living somewhere in the Middle East and I've been dealing with the same shit teenagers go through, experiencing the misfortunes of love far too young, dealing with sadness far too often, having the same dreams every goddamn day and waking up into a grey world when it's not even rainy. I laugh at how much stupid I might seem to you right now. Hell, I'm only seventeen, and I'm getting depressed over love? There are far worse things to be depressed about. Especially in the Middle East. Honestly, I'm hesitant to label myself as depressed. I know depression is a strong term that's often misused, but I don't know if I'm feeling just sad. I think I'm stuck in self-pity because I tell myself a thousand times a day that I'm so pathetic. Like last week I drove to meet a girl who I fall in love with since the first time I texted her, and I thought I fucked up. Even though she said she had a great fucking time I just thought she lied and that day I fall for self-pity. Obviously, it didn't stop there and I fucked up everything else I could possibly fuck up by telling her how deeply I felt for her and how lonely and pathetic I am, and how I don't wanna go into a relationship with her because of what happened last time I was in one. I always make the wrong fucking decisions. I always fuck up. I always get into the same fucking situation where I'm hopeless and preparing myself for another night where I'm gonna dream about the same girl I've been dreaming about for the past five years, but somewhere deep down I like that. I like feeling sad. I love listening to Bon Iver just a few minutes before bedtime, staring into the darkness and reminding myself for the thousandth time how fucking pathetic I am. How no one cares. How she doesn't care. How everyone I fucking love doesn't give a damn about me and there's no fucking escape. Everybody's just gonna say that the future's gonna get better, and how love is like that and eventually, I'll forget the girl who fucked up my life and I'm just gonna nod and say, ""Yeah, you're right"" just because I don't wanna make it seem like they've wasted their time on me. I've been writing about what I've been feeling for the past year or so, but I don't think any of you would be interested in reading some teenager's diary about how love made him vulnerable. Anyway, the question I've been asking is am I depressed or just sad? Where's the line? And if I am depressed, is there a way to get out of this? Just be honest."
s_2100_340,"I feeling like I'm losing my ability to feel full, and I'm getting kinda worried. Some background info: I'm female, 18 years old, 5'4, and weigh 110 lbs. I used to be super underweight when I was a kid but I got to a normal weight and appetite by the time I was 13 or so. Now, here's the problem. In the past year, my appetite's gotten a lot larger. I can eat less if I make myself, but I can easily eat large portions without feeling sick. Yesterday, I ended up outeating my dad at dinner - we had giant plates of noodles and vegetables and he couldn't finish his but I could and felt fine. Today at lunch, I ate two big bowls of rice and had to pull myself away from the kitchen because I still feel like I wasn't satisfied. My dad's started warning me I'm gonna get fat if I keep eating like this, and I'm getting worried too. Anyone else ever dealt with this situation?"
s_1922_197,"When there is no reason This past year life has been amazing to me. My own place, dream job, amazing friends, amazing relationship. However, depression still kicks my ass a few times a week. I cannot come up with a reason for it. I can't find the trigger. I just am depressed because I am. Self harm thoughts come from no where for no reason (not followed through, fortunately ). I don't tell anyone about it anymore because the first question is ""why"" and I have no answer. I keep it all inside cause I feel guilty and burdensome to tell anyone. I can't explain my depression and I don't want them to worry. I always somehow pull through on my own, but I wish I didn't have to. How do you approach people in your life when you are depressed without a trigger?"
s_2663_69,"Meth psychosis. Baaad trip. I talked briefly about this in another thread the other day and it had been a long time since I had thought about it. So I thought it may help someone if i tell this story. This happened to me almost 20 years ago now. 20 years later its still vivid in my mind it was so traumatic. The back story. In 1998 i moved from smoking pot to doing crystal methamphetamine. I remember the first few times, I felt like a God. I felt like I had discovered some secret. That the rest of humanity were weaker beings needing to sleep. I was full of life. Full of confidence and social. When I ended the nights out and went home, id lie there so wired i couldnt even blink. In my head running over fantasy scenarios and dreaming whilst awake. Dawn would come and id drop off to sleep. I had dropped out of work and was living off benefits which I used completely to buy crystal. It felt so good. This carried on for a while, I got confident, got a girlfriend. I hadn't had one for a few years (im an ugly bastard!). My confidence spiralled into egotistical wankerdom. I believed the grains of white crystal i held in my pocket were magic. Then one night this illusion swung violently into a nightmare...
That night. I hadn't slept or eaten anything proper in days. I was wired to fuck already. I met my girlfriend, who in reality was a drugged up skank from a rough family and we went to this shitty local pub she liked. I went into the toilets and thinking ""this place is shit, I'll liven it up about"", I took out my baggy and proceeded to bomb double what I usually took. It seemed to hit almost instantly. I was in the cubicle and the rush was pure terror and anxiety. I sat there and heard a few guys come into the toilet. They were talking about me. They were plotting to beat me up. I sat there with my heart pounding and eyes bulging thinking what will I do? What will I do...
I go out cautiously and there is nobody there. I go into the pub area and my mates are playing pool and drinking. I try to pretend im ok but it must have been so obvious i wasnt. As one of my friends commented ""you need to calm down on that stuff"". My girlfriend said ""let's get out of here you look crazy"". So we went to her house which was just over the road. She said ""ill make you a brew to help you calm down"". I sat there and my mind was racing. She was in on it. I never drink brews. She was trying to poison me. Or slip me some downers so the people in the pub could beat me up. I sat in the lounge on my own. And looking around i saw some tools her dad had out, he was installing laminate floor. There was a hammer and a few other bits. Then I saw it. A retractable Stanley knife. I picked it up quietly and slipped it into my pocket. Not even thinking what the fuck I was going to do. I just knew if these fuckers came. I was going to defend myself. My girlfriend came in and gave me the brew. I put it down and obviously didn't drink that poisoned shit. The curtains were drawn, but I saw the shadows outside of a group of people. They were coming. I needed to get the fuck out of there. My girlfriend starts coming on to me. I pretended i was into it. seizing the element of surprise i push her off, jump up and shoot out of her house. I sprinted the fastest i have ever ran. Her house overlooked some fields at the back that led onto woods. I just ran and ran and ran. Once I was a good distance away i looked back and they were coming. I saw them coming. So I turned and carried on sprinting. On that night I think I'd have given Ussain Bolt a run for his money. I reached the woods and literally felt sick at the thought of going in. It must have been agouti midnight now and it was pitch black. There was no place else to go. I hurdled the fence and ran in. I found a densely overgrown spot and hid behind a tree. My heart pounding in my chest. My hand in my pocket slid out the blade of the knife...
I stayed quiet for what seemed like hours. I saw them. Theirs dark silhouettes and hooded heads. They looked big. Like body builder types. And there were loads of them. I heard them whistle to each other in some sort of code. Then the worst thing ever happened. The clouds cleared and the full moon shone bright light down, illuminating the woods and revealing where I was. I saw them moving between trees. They were playing a game. They were hunting me. ""just get it over with!!... what have I done to you??.....why are you doing this !"" I screamed into the dark. But still they didn't come. They just sort of circled around me in the woods. My mind raced to every person i might have pissed off. To think who could be behind this. I knew whoever it was, to have this many people out here in the woods. They were serious. ""COME ON! COME AND DO IT THEN! I'VE GOT A FUCKING KNIFE"" I literally screamed into the dark woods. It was probably now about 2am. The shadows just kept darting between trees only now... they looked small. Not even my height (I'm not very tall). The moon had gone back behind the clouds. But then all of a sudden a bright white beam came down from the moon to the middle of the woods. My mind then, and I remember with clarity, thought ""i cannot believe this is an alien conspiracy, oh my God im going to be abducted, ill disappear and no one will ever know what happened ""..... it sounds ludicrous in hindsight. But the terror i felt in that moment. I pulled out the knife. Id rather fucking kill myself than be taken by aliens. The time now must have been about 4am because it literally started to grow lighter....i looked around in horror. The blade of the Stanley knife to my wrist. It was like my whole soul screamed ""NO!"" The light came fast. I looked around. There was no one. I was freezing. My eyes were literally bulging out of my skull. A moment of clarity came smashing through all the horror. I collapsed to my knees and looked at myself. I was covered in mud. Id actually cut into my arm and blood ran down my hand.. I was filthy. I sat there with my head in my hands crying for ages. What had my life become. I pulled myself up and walked home. All the way, paranoid thoughts rushed through my head. People in cars stared at me. Men in white vans were going to pull up and bundle me into their vans. The reality was it was about 5am. There were hardly any cars about. The bad tripped lingered. I had to force myself not to look at the shadow people. I remember one vividly leaning on the bonnet of a car cradling a baseball bat. I forced myself to look down and just get home. Now the reality that it was a bad trip, was a thought I could understand. I felt distraught. I got home. I got into bed. And i slept for two full days. I got up after that 48 hours, and I made a serious attempt to kill myself. My mum found me unconscious. I was in hospital for 3 days. I woke up, discharged myself. And you know what? Went and scored some more meth. If you are young, or any age. Don't do that shit. It is evil. It is the worst most horrible thing. It will make you do terrible things to people you love. It will make you do terrible things to yourself. It just is not worth it. Peace guys !"
s_1499_1113,"I just feel like absolute shit. I've been depressed for as long as I can remember - even as early as Elementary school I've shown symptoms, and there's a huge percentage of depressed people in my family. I was fairly emotional during high school, like a lot of kids, but most of the time I still didn't feel like my head was really in it. I very nearly flunked out, but continuation school and my mom threatening to kick me out at 15 got me to finish. I dabbled in college courses, but never went back and I don't think I earned more than three units in something like three semesters. I had thought it would be a new beginning, something I could dive into, head first, but I hated it. I hated the people, the professors, the coursework. I had always wanted to be a writer, a novelist, but my passion for writing started to die off around that time. It's been a slow, shitty descent since then. I'm now newly 24, I've been in a serious relationship for a little over three years. I'd been in two awful ones before that, both abusive, so this guy is a breath of fresh air. He's really the only person that has made me feel truly, unconditionally loved. And that's why my depression is that much worse. His family has practically zero history of mental illness, and what is there gets swept under the rug. I've actually sat at a table, next to his mother (who doesn't know I'm depressed) while she made loud proclamations that people with mental illnesses shouldn't be allowed to own guns or have children. I've been steadily, secretly in total dislike for her since then. I just don't give a shit anymore. I have so many things to look forward to, I know that - my boyfriend and I are planning on buying a house by the end of the year, we're probably going to get married within a year or so. The few times over the last few years that I've felt real, in-your-face emotions, it's been with him. And yeah, sometimes that's anger, but mostly love. Mostly happy. But I'm so sick of the day in and day out. I've got a chronic spinal condition, it will never go away and I'm in near constant pain. It drives me crazy, knowing that I'll literally never again do anything without first thinking about my condition, about the needs of a stupid glitch in my spine above what I want to do. I self-harmed in December. I won't say much more than that about it, just that I didn't immediately regret it. Still sort of don't. I know it upset my boyfriend, and I think that's the reason I haven't done it again. I hadn't done it since high school, nine years before, and I don't plan on doing it again. It was just like a switch. I felt nothing, nothing, nothing, and then one morning I woke up and I felt everything all at once, a glimmer of happiness among waves of crushing sadness, white-hot anger, so bad I wanted to smash things, break things. That very afternoon, I was back to nothingness, or near-nothingness. You know how it is. Sometimes you feel little things throughout the day that almost make you feel like you're having a good day, until you look back on the week behind you and literally cared so less about it, in hindsight, that you can't remember a damn thing that happened. I know I need to go back to a psychiatrist, I know I should be medicated. But I procrastinate and I feel like, what, going and talking to someone and taking pills is going to magically fix me? And I'll be able to commit to things and feel normal? That's never going to happen, for me, so why bother? I just feel like I'm spending my life waiting to get better when that may never happen, and what then? I wake up in the morning and I can't wait to just go back to sleep, to pass the time. The monotony of daily life is stifling. I do look forward to weekends, to getting things done and deflating and just spending some time with my guy, but as soon as Sunday morning hits and I realize it's basically back to the work week again, I lose whatever grip on normalcy I might have had. I'm just so, so tired. Of everything."
s_1404_116,"Im always stressed. My summer break just ended but I never felt relaxed. I have so many things to worry about. I am so busy. I never truly have free time. improving my social skills 2. improving my eating habits 3. trying to get dates which seems impossible 4. im stressed about university which is starting soon and probably gonna give me alot of studying and homework 5. im a long sleeper so I only have about 12 hours per day that im awake to do stuff. i lost friends recently and im trying to get them back 7. preventing my friends from suicide 8. Whenever I play games in attempt to relax my mind, even that exhausts me. Thats how low my energy is. Dealing with people who annoy the shit out of me online I have so many things to do. It has been like this for years. And even IF I force myself to take a break and relax, I can still not really relax because while I rest there is always a voice in my head telling me that im wasting time by resting and that Ill never get my stuff done. But having so many things to deal with is not the only problem. I also have no energy because my health is bad and because I'm in depression. Stress: 100% energy: 0% but I feel guilty while resting. I DONT EVEN HAVE TIME AND ENERGY TO BRUSH MY TEETH ANYMORE, HELP"
s_2237_490,Our entire country is broken right now. I'm done talking about that other stuff. I can't really handle it because I get so mad at all the bullshit. We can't even be honest with ourselves what the REAL numbers are. And everyone wonders why it's all screwed up. It is the 5th now where I am located. This will be the 2nd 4th of July in a row that I miss out on. Enjoy the good food and the fireworks.
s_2840_562,"I am a teenage girl who has been dealing with depression and anxiety for about a year and a half. Cutting and suicidal thoughts are things I had issues with for a long time. Before I tell my story, I want to say that finding this, and looking at some of the posts, made me feel less alone. Feeling alone is all too familiar to everyone on this subreddit, and it's amazing that a group of people who are feeling the same things and battling the same things can come together to discuss and guide each other. That's beautiful. Now for the my story. As a young child, I never fit in. I was always the weird fat girl, and living in a wealthy town full of girls with entitlement issues didn't help. My mother is very down to Earth, and since it was only her and I living together, we didn't have much money. We were by no means poor, but I didn't live in a fancy house in a nice subdivision, nor did I wear designer brand clothes like all the other kids. My parents divorced when I was two, and my dad was in and out of prison. With all of this being said, I spent most of my time alone and playing by myself when I was little. I had no siblings and no friends to play with. Then when I was 10 or 11, about to start middle school, my mother made a spur of the moment decision to move to a town about 10 or 20 miles outside the one we were living in. I was not excited. There were some bad areas of the town, and it intimidated me. My mom tried to assure me that I'd make lots of new friends and that everyone would be nicer. I didn't believe her, because I believed that kids were mean, and that's just how it was. I had no idea that there really were nice kids out there. I started middle school and everything was well, and I was amazed when I wasn't made fun of on the first day. I was very introverted, and didn't have any friends until about halfway through the school year, when I started taking to Jessie, a beautiful trumpet player in my band class who I though was extremely cool. I am still friends with her today, and I met most of my other friends though the people that Jessie knew in elementary school. 6th and 7th grade were good, and while I wasn't popular, and was still ""the weird fat girl"" in some people's eyes, I had a group of friends that I loved. I was content. Then the summer before 8th grade, my father passed away due to a prescription drug overdose. I tried to avoid it, and pretend that it never happened, which only fueled my mourning. My father wasn't perfect, and there were points where I would only see him two or three times a year, but he loved me. He adored me. In the letters he sent to my the rest of my family, he never shut up about me. The thing that hurt me the most is that the last the we talked was on the phone, and I didn't tell him I loved him. As with all deaths, I mourned and then gradually moved on with my life. When 8th grade started, all was well, and I still had the same group of friends. About halfway through the year, I developed a crush on a close friend, Brandon. He also came from a broken home, with a dead mother, an abusive father, and being in his grandparents' custody with his older brother. I told him, and in early March we started dating. I loved this boy. He was my first boyfriend, first kiss, and first everything. Being the naive young kid I was, we had sex. Because hey, if he's willing to have sex with me, that must mean he really loves me right? Well as you would expect, he broke up with me shortly afterwards, after coming on a vacation with my family and I for my birthday. About a week after my birthday, he randomly became very distant and would only talk to me briefly once every few days, where we used to FaceTime for hours and hours every day. Then one day I sent him a message and asked what was wrong, and after a short argument, he called me on FaceTime. He said he had to break up with me to ""protect me"" and we were both sobbing. I didn't hear from him for over a year. In all honesty, I never really got over him. I still have dreams about him on a nightly basis, and I think he was the thing that really fueled my depression. For once in my life, I felt a mutual love with one of my peers, and then it was gone. I now realize the he used me, and he was very controlling, but I loved him. I spent weeks and weeks crying over the breakup, but of course, I started getting over it slowly but surely. That was my first experience with cutting. I was sad, and mad at myself, so I grabbed the dull knife from the kitchen and sawed at my arm until there was a swollen cut, with blood oozing out. It felt good. The physical pain distracted me from the mental pain, and for those moments, it relieved my stress. Through freshman year, cutting was an issue. I continued to earn good grades and smile, but in marching band, a close-knit group of friends, I felt like an outsider. Jessie made new upperclassmen friends, and I was the awkward weird girl who wouldn't talk to anyone. It got really bad in the winter, and those are when the thoughts got more hostile and I felt more alone. I began more and more to sit in my room alone and listen to music, and avoid everyone around me. It was the same routine at this point: wake up, go to school or pretend I was sick, then lay and bed and sulk. I began becoming anorexic, not eating for a couple days at a time. I have since gotten better with eating, although the thought still rises occasionally. I was put on Zoloft when I was 14 as well as attended therapy, and it helped for a while, but now I am falling back into that pit of loneliness. We quit therapy a few months ago because it became too much money for my mom to handle. Being a teenager, I like to tell myself this is a phase, or a mere hormone imbalance, but at this point I know it's not. Nothing seems beautiful, and I can find sadness and despondence in most everything. I can't shake the lonely, worthless feeling constantly plaguing me, and I needed to tell my story to people who would understand and point me in the right direction. I really feel less alone now, and I can relate to so many of you. Thank you for reading this, and I look forward to being a supportive part of this subreddit."
s_2415_120,Nobody likes me I know plenty of people say that but I know for sure now. Nobody texts me and I don't easily get replies. Maybe they reply just to be nice. Girls don't reply easily. I have a crush and I get the feeling she has a boyfriend now. She replies me but usually late and we are not good friends either anyway. I am piss poor and my dad is an alcoholic. He is so entitled I hate it. I can't get a job and my parents don't give me any money. I hate my existence. No wonder no one likes me. My life simply sucks and I hate it too so why would anyone else want to be a part of it? I have unfollowed many people on Facebook and after months I opened my instagram and got SO depressed because everyone is having fun and I hate even existing now.
s_1598_159,"I just deleted Unity at 99% Completion I've been trying to get back into the AC franchise since the last game i played was Black Flag. I decided to fully complete the game before moving on to Rogue, and boy, it seems i've learnt nothing from my days of %100'ing AC: II on the ps3. I've been frustrated through and through with this game with the glitchy mechanics, insanity-inducing combat and the disfunctional parkour. I see a lot of people praising the opposite of all this in this game tho. I only had the Medieval - Battlefield rift to unlock its bonus challenge (which i couldn't but gave up real quick), because i didn't like the way only one artifact appeared per run. Plus i wasn't gonna be getting the co-op kills amp; revive achievements anyway. I'm still gonna play the next games, but i feel disappointed in myself and relieved at the same time, never ever 100% an ac game again. I just felt like I had to vent, how was your experiences with the other games ? ( No-spoilers for the games after unity please)"
s_2625_12,"Why do you think you will ruin someone else's happiness? I think that feeling is probably a reflection of what your mom has taught you - that you somehow affect her feelings (i.e. your depression makes her feel unhappy so it must be your fault). It's not healthy to think that way, and it probably contributing to a lot of your depression. If you haven't looked into Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) I would google it. One of the main concepts of CBT is that we process events and our brain decides how to respond to it. Do you notice how certain people respond differently to events? For example, say you did poorly on a test. I might respond by thinking that I'm a failure. This thought leads to feeling very depressed. This leads to me avoiding that class, subsequently doing worse and worse and confirming my belief that I'm a failure. Now, take someone else who is maybe more positive. They do poorly on the test. They say, well, it was really hard and I didn't study as much as I should have. So they think, it doesn't mean I'm a bad person or a failure. I just need to study more. So they keep going to class, take good notes, and study for the next test, and do well. Do you see where I'm going with this? In the case of your mom, she reacts to the event of you being depressed or unhappy. She thinks, what happened to my happy boy? She probably thinks, maybe it's my fault he feels this way. I must be a terrible mother. These thoughts make her feel awful and depressed. She thinks, if only he was happy, I would be happy too. He's making me unhappy. BUT, if you look at this situation, SHE made herself unhappy by these thoughts. It's important to remember that. Don't let others make YOU feel like YOU made them feel a certain way. That was a big breaking point in my depression. It made me relax a bit. If someone is upset, that's their problem, not mine. I can't fix it. I didn't make them upset. If possible, I would look into therapy. If you can't afford therapy or don't want to, look into books on CBT. I like Feeling Good. I look at it from time to time. You can't change your family and how they react to you, but you can change how YOU react to what they say. You don't need to feel guilty for your depression because you did not choose to have it. I am on an SSRI and I have found that incredibly helpful. You can see a primary care physician and they will usually prescribe you an SSRI. If you're open to medication I would look into it! Good luck!"
s_2993_404,"Once it finally clicked about it being a learning disorder it resonated with me too allot. Helped for awhile. I'll try to but I got bad anxiety right now and can't concentrate or focus on one thing for long. Yes she def is, that's wonderful of her. I will try again, just kinda doubt it will give me whatever it is I need. Thanks for responding!"
s_1913_262,I'm litteraly crying right now
s_151_12,"I used to be addicted to... and you may not believe me.... but weed. Smoked about 5 years since turning 18. Was sloppy. Not productive. Ended relationships, friendships, and ties with family in pursuit to get high. Almost went to jail a few times. Contemplated prostitution. Pretty familiar with CraigsList. I sadly could go on and on of the terrible decisions I made. To quote MC Chris, ""Weed is by my side, it's always been there."" Been sober almost 2 years now. Sobriety isn't for everyone. It's kept me sane."
s_17_844,No I don't. I'm sleep deprived. I think everyone is grouchy when sleep deprived
s_342_1271,"I don't know what to do anymore. Since graduating high school, I've done nothing but apply for jobs and sit around my house doing nothing. It's been over a year, no one is taking me. I don't even know what to do with my life. I thought about going to the local community college but I don't know what to study. I don't plan to go to a four year cause I know I wouldn't last, so I'm not gonna waste my money on it when I can by a house. Also, I'm not aloud to drive because of my eyes. I mean, my doc told me I can drive a couple hours during the day, but honestly, I don't trust my eyes. I don't want to kill myself and kill someone else. I just don't know what to do anymore. What do I do now with my life after high school?"
s_2625_93,"Well, I saw my psychiatrist a few weeks ago and she advised me to not avoid social situations due to my anxiety, so I generally go out whenever someone asks me to...but it hasn't helped. I'm still really, really nervous all the time. And I get really depressed unless I'm drinking. It just annoys me because I feel like most of the professionals I see have no clue what I'm going through."
s_2240_178,"Random fits of dizziness and lightheadedness For the past year or so, I have been having random onsets of lightheadedness and unbalance that lasts for days at a time. I often find it difficult to walk in a straight line, and i feel very clumsy, like my entire body is unbalanced or dizzy, but just my head. Along with this lightheadedness, I get random fits of light dizziness that last a few seconds whenever I make sudden head movements. I also become very tired, sleeping for up to 16 hours a day and have that ""sick"" feeling. Any suggestions on what it could be? Age - 15 Sex - Male Height - 6 foot 1 inch Weight - 140 pounds Race - Caucasian Duration of complaint - 1 year Location - Howard County, Maryland Any existing relevant medical issues - Mitral Valve prolapse, dehydration, diagnosed ADHD Current medications - Xyzal (rarely, only taken as needed), ADHD meds (not sure of the name), over the counter calcium supplements"
s_212_326,"I've been trying to get concentration meditation right for a year now, don't think i'm doing it right"
s_1580_138,"Oh yeah I totally get that but it's actually eating food that's my problem. I haven't been actually hungry in a week, it's just I know I need to eat and just can't."
s_2460_249,"I found that losing weight made me exercise rather than the other way around. Initially I just planned to control my diet and start exercising down the line. But something curious happened. A week into my efforts (after I saw the scale go down), I started sleeping better. I started having more energy. I got home from work, sat down and thought ""shit, its sunny as hell outside I'm gonna go for a walk""
That has **never** happened before. That's how it started. 4 months later and I'm doing 20-30 minute jogs and loving it."
s_2247_18,"(Mtf) erections at day 30. So starting tomorrow I double my dosage. In the meantime I half expected my libido to wane, but nothing has changed in that department. So my question is what's every trans girls experience with that? Funny thing is too before I didnt mind now I'd appreciate it if they were less frequent."
s_1456_77,"I understand entirely, I have a great support system when it comes to family but sometimes I get more frustrated than anything else. Just the other night I had a massive anxiety episode while no one was home. I just started working overnight shifts at a pet hotel after spending the last 6 years of my life in the service industry(Im 23). Ive had epilepsy since I was 8 and was told by my neurologist that mental health would be an ongoing issue for the rest of my life, however I didnt know it would be to this extent. I have been on and off several medications since I was 8(anxiety, anti seizure, sleeping, etc.) I never had anxiety to this extent before and recently got diagnosed with bi Polar depression and have started to see the truth in that these past few weeks. Some days I dont mind going into work and other times just leaving my house has me thinking about suicide even tho I never could go through with that thinking about how much people would miss me. Bottom line all Im at the end of my rope and just am starting to feel like a loser and a failure. Im sure many can relate so I figured Id throw it out there just in case anyone has comments or concerns or even some coping skills to help me through all of this. Also just wanted to get it all off my chest. Thanks to anyone who would actually take the time to read all of this."
s_2392_30,"For me depression is characterised by a thick foggy head which makes it difficult to think. The feeling that even doing a simple task such as picking a sock up from the floor or having a shower is like climbing a mountain. I can feel exhausted after getting ready for work in the morning. Depression can make it difficult to enjoy life and isolates you. You do seem to be going down a route of isolation if you are thinking about leaving school - but maybe the early stages. I was as you describe when I was younger. I hated school and didn't understand why I was there, I still think that schools are really just big nurseries where society puts children so that they don't cause trouble! They are not places of great education in my opinion, they are places that frequently create sheep as fodder for society. It could be the initial start of depression, I think that racing thoughts are common but they may be more linked to anxiety than depression. The smoking may be your attempt to self medicate. In the long run you may want to educate yourself on the effects of THC when not combined with CBD. It is common for skunk to have 12-15% of THC content but very little CBD. CBD is the cannabinoid that protects against mental health issues. My best advice is to talk to a counsellor or psychologist but make up your own mind as to whether to follow their advice. They often don't seem to be much use either other than for emptying your wallet - but I am maybe a little cynical as others seem to have had great success with them. Don't be afraid to change counsellors if you do go to one, find one that suits you and that you can relate to. If you have good parents then maybe you can chat with them and let them know what you are thinking and feeling. They may be able to help with support and advice. I may be scary to approach them but good parent will want to try to help. Good luck."
s_1955_911,"You're right, after sitting through the whole series, I shouldn't have been surprised. I have no one to blame but myself."
s_2415_1024,"This hits home and also you're telling me about your friend's situation? Similar is happening with me. Grades are going down, I have no focus, I get made fun of by teachers etc. I feel like a loser in this college and my self esteem has gone way too low now already. I don't enjoy anything. I get irritated easily. I am losing my hair as well due to stress and I am just outright hopeless and everything seems gloomy now. I don't enjoy anything at all now and I am unable to continue but no one is supporting me and they just tell me to man up and keep facing the situation. I really think I should drop because sometimes I even think that dying would be better than go to the lab again."
s_473_511,"Well, I have three goals with an orchiectomy:
1. To achieve ""bullet-proof"" sterilization. Since all non-drastic methods of contraception and sterilization (including vasectomies) can and sometimes do fail, they are just not good enough for me. If my expectations in regards to female hormones will turn out to be accurate, then I would want to use female hormones on a regular or at least on a semi-regular basis. After all, I have heard good things about female hormones from both trans-women and trans-men. However, I must find some way to still be able to get erections using my penis, as well as to still be able to have penis-in-vagina sex, while I am taking female hormones, since otherwise female hormones might not work for me. To better regulate my sex drive and to give my ejaculations and sexual arousal more meaning. In addition to this, though, independently of that, I also want to permanently get rid of as much of my body hair and facial hair as possible due to the fact that this hair makes me dysphoric (and I unfortunately have a lot of it, so yeah). Likewise, I want to feminize my face to some extent as well, though I still want to live as a man (albeit as a very feminine eunuch) most (but not all) of the time after I will get all of this done."
s_1499_240,"I had to pull up my pants all day today. It's the first day I've felt like I've lost ""real"" weight. I have an odd shape no matter what weight I am - giant hips/butt, narrow waist, big thighs but small calves, tiny ankles and feet. I'm like a caricature, at least I definitely was at my heaviest weight. I was 206 some time this past summer at 5'7""ish. I bought these jeans several months ago. My old jeans were too tight, I was devastated. Couldn't even squeeze into them. Went in, managed to find two pairs - both high waisted, but one was VERY stretchy and one was not. I've been noticing lately that the stretched out pair is loose, but they shrink back up in the dryer and are fine for a wear or two. They're mostly like yoga pants. ( They do have weird stretched out bumpy spots though, which I find amusing.) These pants, though. These were a little snug even when I bought them. They are only mid-rise, I think, which usually means a giant gap at the waist when I sit down. I rarely wore these jeans in the last few months, mostly because I still couldn't really see or feel my weight loss. I decided to throw them on today as I was running late, and oh, man. I had to pull these babies up. Not like, fall-off-my-hips loose, but definitely LOOSE. They started to sag a little in the butt. I had to make sure I wasn't flashing crack to innocent bystanders. The kid I nanny for kept laughing at me for my ""big jeans"". My biggest jeans were actually a 14, these are just a barely stretchy 12, but yeah, they look a little looser now. I weighed in this morning and I'm 17.3 pounds down. I haven't been sub-190 in well over a year and a half, maybe two years. I suffer from depression and Binge Eating Disorder, which obviously has made weight loss extremely difficult. I finally sought help and have been slowly working towards getting my mind and body back in shape! It's not some massive success story yet, but I'm getting there, one crappy pair of loose jeans at a time!"
s_17_1,I can't sleep at all if my husband is not in bed with me or if he's gone. Is this a type of anxiety issue? I literally will stay awake in bed when he leaves to work and have a hard time going back to bed. Sometimes I'm never able to fall asleep again and stay up for the rest of the early morning. He wakes up and leaves for work some days at 400am. So I'll be up in bed as soon as he leaves. I don't like sleeping alone and need him there for me to sleep comfortably. I don't like to tell my husband this because I don't want him to think I'm a wimp and can't deal with him being gone. This has been an issue for me for the last few years. I will admit that my anxiety has skyrocketed after giving birth to our son 2 years ago. Should I speak to a therapist?
s_891_614,"My Son Has Been Acting Strangely Since His 3rd Day of Daycare Even for a 3 year old, my son Henry showed his emotions far more than any kid his age. If anything made him happy he would scream with glee and laugh until his voice became hoarse. We loved it when he was happy, but his fits had become a problem. I know that it is very common for his age, but we wanted to find a solution. We were worried about how he would slam his head on the ground and claw at his arms. The online searches all pretty much told us to just be patient with him and that he would get over the phase, but it truly broke our hearts and we wanted to get some kind of help. One week ago I was at work and browsing around a parenting website when my manager came up to my desk. I tried to close out of the page, but he asked, You having kid problems? Without turning around, I nodded my head and told him that my sons fits seemed to be getting worse and worse. Chuckling, he put his hand on my shoulder and told me to give him a call after we got off of work. I got home around 7 and called him immediately. He asked me if it was a good time to stop by my house. After I got the confirmation from my wife I told him that it was fine. He quickly said, 15 minutes and hung up the phone. I helped my wife clean up the living room, but before we could finish cleaning my manager knocked on the front door. Right when I opened the door he rushed in and told me that he would make it quick. He handed me a pamphlet to a place called A New Me Daycare Center. The pamphlet had a bunch of pictures of kids happily playing with each other, but other than the title there were no other words written on it. I gave my manager a weird look, but before I could ask him, he told me that this is the place he took his son. It is only $450 a month, and he could see an improvement in his sons attitude within the first couple of days. After his mini pitch, he told us that his wife was waiting for him and told us to think about it before leaving. That night my wife and I talked for over an hour about if this was a good idea or not. By 2 am we reached a mutual decision to at least try it out for a month. If he started acting better we would keep him there, but if anything seemed off we would just pull him out. Five days ago we dropped him off at the daycare center for the first time. He started crying at first, but when he saw the toys that surrounded him he became distracted. While I was watching my son playing I felt a hand grab my arm. I jumped in surprise from the contact, but when I turned around I saw a cheerful woman standing behind me. She started off by talking about how cute our son was, and asked him how old he was. We told him 3 and she started squealing while running up to him and gave him a hug. We expected him to push her off like he did with every stranger, but for some odd reason he hugged her back and started laughing when she spoke to him in funny voices. My wife and I looked at each other and smiled. Once she was done playing with my son she walked back to us and pointed to a room in the back. We followed her into the room and sat down on the chairs placed in front of a bright blue desk. She sat down behind the desk and took out a piece of paper. We started reading it, but she started asking questions about his allergies, weight, height, and if he was having any problems. I told her about the fits that hes been having. I expected her to get serious, but she just smiled and told us that they would try their best to make him stop having fits. The next three days we took him to the daycare center at 7:45 am and I would pick him up after I got off of work at 6 pm. He was still having fits, but it was still helping my wife. She finally had time to work on her novel, and finally had some time to truly relax. We were happy for just that reason, but it all changed two days ago. On the ride home from school Henry was strangely quiet. I asked him if he was quiet, but he just stared at me with wide eyes without saying a word back. When we got home I started to get his toys out, but he just walked into his room without giving his toys a second glance. My wife made his favorite dinner that night, grilled chicken and broccoli, but instead of showing the same excitement he used to show he just sat at the desk and started shoveling the food into his mouth. It got to the point to where he had three pieces of broccoli and a huge chunk of chicken in his mouth. I tried to tell him he was going to choke, but he just swallowed the food without chewing it. I took the plate away from him. Instead of crying like he would normally do; he just looked at me and asked, Dinner over? I nodded yes and he hopped off his chair and walked to his room. After I finished eating I gave him a bath and got him into his pajamas. I got out a book to read his nightly story, but he just said Im tired. Im going to bed. Teasingly I asked, Oh youre too big for the stories now? In response to my question, he rolled over to his side and started to snore. I know I may seem weak, but I wanted to cry. I wanted to shout at him to just give me a smile before he went back to sleep, but I pushed my emotions aside. I reasoned with myself. He must just be tired from having such a long day. Defeated, I walked up to my room and went to bed. My mind was filled with too many thoughts to stay up anymore. Yesterday, I was a walking shell at work. My manager tried to joke with me, but I was far too distracted. He asked me if I was fine, but I just told him that my son was acting a bit weird. He didnt talk to me for the rest of the day. After work I stopped by the local toy store and got the toy airplane he had his eyes set on for the past 3 months. It was $800 because it came with a camera built into it so you can shoot videos while it flew in the sky. While I was checking out, the cashier told me that the plane I was purchasing was amazing and how he had one. I asked him what made it so special, and he told me how it was built to fly long distances and the camera could take up to 11 hours of videos. During the whole car ride home he was silent again. I tried making hints to him that I got him the plane he wanted, but he just kept his eyes on the road without giving me a single response. When we got home I told him to close his eyes and hold out his hands. Once he had his eyes closed and had both his hands out I placed the plane in his hands. When he opened his eyes he looked at the plane and said, Thanks before walking in to his room. He tossed the plane on the ground and sat on his bed. I was crushed. I didnt know what to do anymore. My son wasnt throwing fits anymore, but I wanted him to. I just wanted him to be my son again. Whatever was in his room was not Henry. For the next ten minutes I stared into his room to see what he was doing, but he didnt get off of his bed the whole time. I quietly walked up to his room and peeked inside. Henry was just staring at the wall while sitting cross legged on the middle of his bed. My wife walked up next to me and told me that dinner was ready. I walked in and told Henry to come eat, but he just shook his head no. That is when I lost it. I grabbed him by the arm and hugged him as hard as I could and plead with him. Please Henry; daddy is sorry for wanting you to be different. Please do whatever you want. Just stop doing this. Im begging you. Please Henry please! He shoved off of me and said he was tired before rolling over to his side and started snoring. When I turned around I saw my wife sitting on the floor crying. I tried to comfort her, but before I knew it I was sitting right next to her crying and pleading to any god that could hear us for our son back. We didnt eat dinner last night. We couldnt. By 9 pm we were both asleep. I woke up two times last night. The first time was at 2 am and I saw Henry standing in front of our door. I tried getting up but sleep overtook me. The second time was at 5 am and he was standing right next to me. I asked him if he needed anything, but he just shook his head and ran to his room. This morning when I woke up I took him to daycare. My wife was still asleep and I knew that she would need the extra rest. I took his new plane with him and turned the video feed on when I dropped him off. I took the day off of work today. My wife and I sat in the living room all day today and stared off into space while our favorite shows played on the tv. At 4 pm I decided to pick him up early today. He came out without his airplane so I walked back in and grabbed it. I turned off the video feed and we drove back home in silence. Once again, when we got home he walked into his room. I gave my wife a kiss and walked up the stairs into our room and plugged up the cable from the plane to the laptop, and sat while the video loaded on the screen. Once it was done loading I opened up the video and started skipping around the video until I found what I was looking for. A kid I didnt see before in the daycare was throwing a fit. He was crying and hitting anyone that came close to him. The lady that we saw the first day we dropped Henry off came up from behind him and lifted him up. She carried him over to a bright yellow door and opened it. The first thing that caught my eye was the stairs that led into complete darkness. She held the boy in front of her face and gave him a smile before throwing him down the stairs. I heard a soft thud and she turned on the lights. A small white lump came out of the corner of the screen and slid forward. I looked away from the screen. When I looked back I saw the boy trying to crawl away with his face filled with fear. A skinny naked figure slowly filled the screen; the feet started from the bottom of the screen and its chest surpassed the top of the screen. There were cuts all across its body; it had pasty white skin, and arms that only stretched halfway down his midsection. As it slid closer to the boy the thing bent down to take a better look at the boy. I could only see the side of its face, but it sent chills down my spine. The body was white, but the face was unnaturally yellow. Its hair was a sort of neon blue, but there were only tufts of it on the top of its head. Feeling sick I thought about shutting the video off, but before I could even think twice the creature pounced down on the boy and swallowed him whole. Once it devoured the boy the creature looked up at the woman and I cried out in fear. The creature may have been taller than anything I had ever seen before, but it had a face of a newborn baby. The lady gave him a nod and the creature let out a laugh that belonged to an infant, but before it could finish laughing the creature started screaming and fell on its knees. The midsection started to bulge out in several places before an arm penetrated its flesh. The creature started to scream in pain as the rest of the body came out of its body. The creature slithered away and the body stood up. It was the boy that was just devoured, but he was calm. He only moved when the lady told him to. She snapped her fingers when the boy came upstairs and a man came up and carried the boy away. After a quiet 5 seconds she walked up closer to the screen and her face quickly filled the screen. With a smile and the enthusiastic voice she used on me the first day she said, George, dont you think I would spot a camera from a mile away? I just wanted you to see that your son is, in fact, your son. Hes just a cleansed version. Dont be like the last guys that called the cops. They wont find anything. She set the camera down on the ground and opened the yellow door again and all I saw inside was a normal looking closet with old board games on the ground. She picked the camera back up and said, I think it would be best if Henry kept attending A New Me Day Care. The video program shut down and I found myself staring at the empty folder the video was just in. I tried unplugging the cable and plugging it back in, but the video is gone. I tried looking in recent files, but the video has completely disappeared. I feel helpless guys. I really do. The regret I feel from even getting annoyed at my sons fits is overwhelming me. I cant even think straight. If you guys have ever come across anything like this or even have any suggestions please let me know. It may not be possible, but I will do anything to [get my son back] (<URL>). [Next Part] (<URL>)
[Third Part] (<URL>)"
s_258_149,"Yeah... don't know what to say but I feel like there's a ""high"", a pleasurable high that we get from starving and overtime it becomes a suffering but still we try to seek the same pleasure we originally felt from it but can never get again. I know how it feels. I used to enjoy the dizziness. This disorder is so fucked up, but do know as you might already do, that what you're doing to yourself is a punishment that you don't deserve. You're better than that urge. You deserve more than to have that urge. That urge is nothing but destructive."
s_220_84,"So yesterday I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Panic Disorder without Agoraphobia. I have some questions. My mom has really bad health, and for the last three years, every trip to the doctor for her has delivered worse news. I finally have insurance and I should go, but thinking about it gives me anxiety. I think I have hypothyroidism, which my mom has, and I know the best thing is to treat it, but I don't like needles. My depression and possibly the hypothyroidism has made me obese, which I've been since childhood (I'm 20) and thinking about getting on a scale is giving me severe anxiety and I know having no choice would send me into an exhausting panic attack. Can I refuse? Should I explain on the phone first that it's a trigger for my panic attacks? Can I insist on only testing thyroid stuff with blood work? I don't have the energy to deal with anything else and the idea of more is causing me anxiety. I don't know if this is the right place, but I just wanted to know."
s_2338_375,Not eating at home/making my lunches. Nothing I make tastes good. It's getting to the point where I get nauseated thinking about it. And I don't have the energy to cook with a 4 month old baby.
s_2456_194,"I like to think that it could be more than 1%, just people who might be ace just don't know what it is. I was convinced I was heterosexual with a low libido and a lack of shits to give until I heard about Asexuality."
s_2402_1047,"What are these episodes called and are they normal? Background: I'm a 19 year old College Student under stress that suffers from Psychosis and PTSD. I sometimes get these episodes of extreme emotional distress after being triggererd by something insignificant. Today it was me mixing up train times. These episodes usally last 10 mintues to half an hour. This is what usally happens in them:
I get shaky. I get extremly upset on the verge of tears. I find it hard to calm down. I feel extremly suicidal and I need to hurt myself. I feel like I could explode. I either pace around or can't move. I tend to talk to myself and put myself down in these episodes
E.G ""I'm so fucking stupid why don't I jump under a fucking train""
After these episods it usally takes me a week to recover and to function normally, it messes up my Collegework, my Psychosis get worse, my sleeping, eating, focus, my suicidal impulses ect. What are these episodes called and are they normal?"
s_2402_488,"Anyone else feel really guilty or ashamed if you want sex or afterwards? I have C-PTSD from various sexual abuse. Me and my boyfriend have gone down to Falmouth for a few days, and we have been doing a lot of fun stuff, including dirty stuff. As I'm too embarrassed to initiate this sort of stuff, he usally does it but when I feel like I want to do something like this or afterwards, I just feel really bad for wanting it or I just feel so guilty. I don't know why, I just do. It doesn't happen all the time, mostly when I start or iniate stuff. I always shake a little bit afterwards too but I'm ok with that these days, it's just I hate feeling bad about asking for sexy stuff. Anyone have any ideas about this?"
s_1455_231,"I dumped her and felt like shit for 6 months. I was juggling the guilt of her feelings combined with my issues of co-dependency. It was a very tough winter. But it was the most mature decision I've ever made and we're both better off for it. I felt relieved because I no longer had to live a lie and I was being honest with myself for once. But let me be clear, it was NOT easy."
s_3042_39,"Emotionally abusive My girlfriend says that I'm emotionally abusive because when i get mad i raise my voice and curse. Being in the military cursing became second nature and never really wore off. My Dad always cursed growing up, my family has always felt the need to yell and curse whenever they get upset. Everyone with exception of my older brother who found inner peace through zen buddhism and becoming a free mason. Today was a perfect example of why I am emotionally abusive. I was out at lunch with my girlfriend, she offered to pay because she knew I was stressed about money. ( My car got totaled in an accident and i don't have a job at the moment, I live off of VA disability.) When we ordered our food I ordered soup with a sandwich. She contested that I didn't need soup, that I didn't eat it last time...(not true) tbh I felt like a little kid in that moment but I doubled down and insisted on soup. I would of gladly venmo'd here for the soup and she knows that. After that the cashier asked if we wanted to drink.. my girlfriend looks to me, I was like ""tea?"". My girlfriend just sort of looked like a deer in the headlights. I wasn't sure what she wanted and she didn't ask to get her anything, so I got tea. The last time we ate at this place. I got tea and we shared it. As soon as we sit down my girlfriend started in with "" why did you just walk away from me ? You just walked away? It was so rude!"" To which I replied ""I'm sorry"" she continued to rant about ... I honestly couldn't tell you because I just sort of tuned out. I could feel the anger sort of building up. I said I'm sorry again... she didn't even acknowledge me or accept my apology. So I waited and then after about 30 seconds I said "" I apologized already, what more do you want!"" I didn't yell but I imagine it was probably loud enough where you could hear it if you were sitting close by. She completely shut down but before our food came she started texting me. Why are we even out if you're just going to sit on your phone and walk away from me. And not even say thank you. At this point I lost it. I said ""I'm not fucking do this! right now!"" She replied something like will you lower your voice people can hear us! This is where shit really hit the fan. I said I don't fucking care! I didn't yell it, it was kind of those angry whispers. I could tell she was hurt, she got up. Grabbed two to go boxes and packed up the sandwiches. I finished my soup and we got in the rental car we have till the insurance totals my car. We didn't speak at all during the ride home. When we got home I calmly said can we talk? We started talking and I apologized for what had happened... but I made a grave mistake... I mentioned that I felt provoked. I wish she could own up to the fact she does in fact push my buttons that it isn't like I fly off the handles for no reason. * Insert foot in mouth She immediately got upset and we started yelling... it is always my knee jerk reaction to yell back when I'm being yelled at. She said"" I'm not going to sit in the car so you can yell at me! "" I told her we are both yelling.. I always try to normalize this behavior even though I know damn well it's an unhealthy way of dealing with your emotions. I swear all the shows we ever watch, somebody is fucking yelling and cursing about something. I'm pretty desensitized to it, and for her it is literally triggering. We both suffer from complex PTSD. I also have clinical depression and pretty horrible social anxiety. She is a victim of domestic and sexual abuse. Yelling at her is wrong in so many ways. It is straight up abusive. I just started accutane a couple months ago and it had made matters a lot worse. I'm irritable as hell and my skin is dry as the Sahara desert , my joints hurt, lips are chapped to the point where they feel like they are going to bleed. I see a doctor tomorrow to hopefully get on some mood stabilizers or maybe get something like a low dose of clonazepam because that actually seemed to help my anxiety. My girlfriend is staying at a friends; taking space. I emailed a therapist today...waiting to hear back from her. Does anyone have any recommendations for medication? I need help :("
s_756_270,Yeah I'm not unhappy at all. Bought an Nissan Silvia S15 LOL I mean if I put the same money as I did in bitcoin could've gotten a R34 GTR or a 911 but its whatever. I'm content with what I have
s_1551_11,"What is it about depression that keeps you from doing the right thing? Like, when you know doing something is in your best interest and would probably be good for you but you just cant bring yourself to do it? Sitting around doing nothing for an ENTIRE year? And why it takes an equal amount of time to recover from this? I just cant understand a lot of my indecision in the past, Im trying to piece it together but It just makes me feel like a failure and a disgraceful fool"
s_2231_125,"My sleep got really good after I reduced my caffeine intake to just 1 cup in the morning, so my sleep is pretty good lately. What are your thoughts on phenibut? Heard its a really good way to increase Gaba"
s_74_703,"My beautiful olde tyme bulldog had to be euthanised last year because his body was riddled with cancer. He'd saved my life twice, and he was a light for me when I couldn't see any other. I had him put to sleep at home so he wouldn't be scared. I held him and his body fell against mine as he took his last breaths. I have never sobbed so hard in my entire life. He was brain damaged from birth but he had a full and wonderful life. Losing him was the worst pain I've ever felt. I cried like a baby for so long. You don't know pain until you've lost an animal. They give you unconditional love with ever fibre of their being."
s_804_60,I dont want to die.
s_3019_1176,"Health Update, to whom it may concern [doc appt] So I went in for my doctor's appointment this morning. Woke up feeling like shit- again. Stomach pain, still unable to eat. Night before I had to take a Zofran just to get to sleep, the pain got so bad from trying to eat something when I was hungry (peach, v-8, whole grain goldfish). Thankfully it was not unbearable this morn, and only coming in waves about every 15 min or so. The doctor saw it three times while she was in there with me. I go from being hyper and bubbly to labored breathing and in pain. She could see I was not bullshitting around, and that I needed care and answers quick. I expressed to her that I suspected I have had untreated diabetes for a long fucking time, never knew-- and now I have thyroid problems as a result. She went over my issues with me, we talked at length about everything that's happened lately, and in my life in general. Then she felt my neck. She said, ""yeah, I want an ultrasound."" She ordered 16 blood tests, 1 urine, and an ultrasound for my neck. The last few vials, it was like my blood ran out. Luckily I have been eating nothing but fruit and veg and grains, aside my need for cookies and breads-- so I didn't pass out or get dizzy like I usually do. I honestly feel so lucky the first doc cancelled and I ended up at this ""clinic"" with a LAB! right in there. It felt more like a doc office than a clinic, it was very nice. It seems like my journey has just begun, but I'm on the road to healing a life of some pretty fucked up shit. Overall, I'm feeling really positive- I'm not hopeless like I used to be. I'm not a victim. I'm a survivor, for real. I've lived through way worse than this, this I CAN and WILL control. It's my life. Results as soon as Fri, should be no later than Mon. Gotta keep on swimming till then. I'm getting fully back to work, ASAP. I have 2 anal clips to film, and I'm so looking forward to them :) I miss anal so much I had a dream about it. I keep thinking about clips I filmed-- like EPIC Horse, and Oral Anal w Alice... how charged up I was-- how fucking alive .... unnnggg. God you guys- I miss it. Lol I'm so bad. Listen to my new fav album w me? <URL> list=PLLr37iSPXr2FYBPEftqmhfn0ymTnzqCLQ
Spotify: <URL>
Namely: #2, 3, 4, 6, 7 but really they're all good lol"
s_407_8,"(UK) Late penalty notice from HMRC I've received two penalty notices for tax years 2012 and 2013 and a combined penalty of 200. I filed my tax self assessment on April 1st (which I believed to be the deadline day)
Was I just a day late? Surely if I'd be receiving a harsher penalty if I'd gone any further over. I'm so confused and I'm sorry I don't have a lot of information but I just want to know if I have messed up or if there are grounds to appeal."
s_18_836,"Please don't use harsh words like that. I understand you must've gone through some shit. We all have. I don't know your life story, and I'm not gonna ask. But just know you're not alone. I've gone through some real shit too. I nearly committed suicide in Fourth Grade. Was bullied my whole life. Anxiety, Depression, ADHD, and Aspergers Syndrome diagnoses from a young age. I've dealt with the only two loves I've ever had deciding they don't want to be with me. I've seen my dad suffer through cancer. I've lived with guilt. I'm only 18. I know it's gonna get worse from here on. But making the most out of your difficulties gives you the chance to say, ""Suck it Life!"" Joined martial arts. My only two loves decide they don't want me? Decide that I love them enough to want them to be happy. Dad has cancer? Remember all the awesome things he does for me (Plus I can get him stocking caps for Christmas)"
s_699_468,I cry when im around others cause im constantly left out
s_2401_24,Maybe a better future that i could have
s_1805_1381,"Why can't I get out of bed in the morning? I can't seem to ever find the motivation to do anything I want to do. I just waste away and do absolutely nothing. At the end of every day I am ashamed of myself of not setting forth to accomplish the goals I set for myself and I tell myself I will do better tomorrow, and it all begins with waking up. I want to get around 6-7 hours of sleep, but no matter how rested I feel when I wake up, I still lie in bed, pressing snooze or even setting the alarm to a later time. I sleep until I feel tired from sleeping too much. Any plans that I had that I planned for the morning before I started my day will not get done, there is no time. I feel as though I never get out of bed unless I have an obligation to go to such as work or school. I've tried moving my alarm so it's not next to my bed, hell I've put it downstairs so I actually have to walk down the stairs to turn it off. And what do I do? I climb back in bed and sleep for another hour. How can I convince myself that going to the gym in the morning is an obligation BEFORE I go to class? I'm overweight, out of shape, unhealthy, and eat only two-sometimes one meal a day. I want to change this. I need to wake up after 6 hours of sleep, I need to go to the gym, I need to eat healtheir, but how do I begin?"
s_222_412,"I feel you, Ive been so pissed off and irritable and everyone sets me off and I hate myself for doing it so much . Im so sorry you feel like this"
s_2492_10,"'You don't deserve happiness' self talk, and how to stop it? When I'm truly happy, I feel like I can accomplish anything, and I feel like a totally different person from the depressed self-loathing human being that I usually am. When I'm depressed, I can't even IMAGINE being happy. I literally cannot remember what it feels like, and I am unable to bring myself out of it. I get into a 'happy' mood at least every other day, for around a couple hours, and sometimes it'll come on every day. All the other hours of the day are usually miserable. At some point during the happy episode, I remember that I don't deserve to be happy. I tell myself so much crap just so I can go back to being a miserable shit. Things like, ""You're ugly. You're useless, you've accomplished nothing. You have no friends, you're a loser. Why on earth would you be happy right now?"" It's so frustrating bc OF COURSE I won't accomplish anything or make any friends when I'm depressed. The only way to stop being a ""loser"" is to keep being happy. But I'm not allowed to be happy because I'm a loser. And the cycle goes on. Does anyone else experience this sort of inner self-talk/vicious cycle? I desperately want to get out of it."
s_2221_16,When I can't concentrate on anything I plan what I want to achieve when I'll be more focused. Be it some general goals I need to achieve in order to finish a paper or laying out the architecture for a program \(in very vague details\). It helps to have a set of goals to achieve and I don't feel like I'm wasting time doing it.
s_2815_1002,"30 years ago today, my neighbor's son disappeared. 30 years ago, my neighbors across the street, Mr. and Mrs. Stein, endured a terrible loss. Their son, Adam, disappeared on Halloween. It was assumed he was kidnapped, as there was a rash of kidnappings in the area at the time. The kidnapper was never found, though. Neither was Adam. Todays the 30th anniversary of his disappearance. To the Steins, the wounds are still fresh. They refuse to decorate their yard, despite all the houses on the street going out of their way to be as festive as possible. They dont give out candy, despite the rest of the houses on the street trying to one-up each other by giving out better loot than their neighbors. The Steins mourn quietly in their dark house; the television being the only light emanating from their window. Kids are advised by their parents not to knock. Ive always felt bad for them. Ive lived here for 40 years. I remember the frantic search and rescue efforts that swept through our town. Even though I was barely 20 years old and living with my unemployed father while working double shifts to pay our mortgage, I did my part and joined the search. It was the least I could do. Like all futile searches, it ended after a while. Adam was presumed dead. The Steins grew old and the neighborhood changed around us. New families moved in and old ones either died off or moved out. Aside from me and the Steins, Id say the average age of the homeowners here is 35. And they all have lots of kids. A terrible rumor started to spread a couple years ago. I know who started it - an older kid named Chuck Demopoulos. He told his younger brothers and neighborhood friends that Adams ghost haunts the woods behind our street. He said Mr. Stein killed him and chopped him up into little bits. When I learned about the rumor, I was disgusted. The disrespect was so vulgar and uncalled for. I prayed the Steins wouldnt hear about it, but Im sure they must have. It was pervasive. I called Chucks father and told him what I heard, and I suspect Chuck caught a beating for it. Still, Im afraid the damage had already been done. Despite pitying the Steins, I dont express my sympathy by refusing to decorate my house and yard. I love Halloween. Always have. I like to see parents beaming from the street while their kids nervously ring doorbells and collect piles of candy. The spirit of the season keeps me feeling young, despite being well past my prime and having to deal with high blood-pressure. Being an old timer has its perks sometimes. I have Halloween decorations they dont sell anymore. Ghoulish stuff like hangmans nooses - things that are too politically incorrect for stores to sell. I firmly believe Halloween shouldnt be sanitized. It should be scary and unsettling. That said, there needs to be an emotional component, too. Not just blood and guts for the sake of blood and guts. There needs to be poignancy. Something thatll stick with you after you see it. Thats why Adam helps me decorate. After Dad died in 1989, I emptied out his safety deposit box. There was an envelope with note a note and a Polaroid photograph. All the note said was, I caught him snooping around the cellar. I had to teach him a lesson. The photograph was of fresh cement drying on the basement wall. In the middle of the night, I went into the cellar and opened the wall. Adams body was inside. My instinctive reaction was to call the police, but I was terrified Id be arrested. Theyd never believe the note. So I sealed the wall. After a while, I stopped thinking about the dead boy in the bowels of my house. Many years later, after talking with Mrs. Stein about Adam on a Halloween afternoon, I knew what I had to do. I took his remains out of the wall in 2014. He was only a skeleton. I separated the bones, splashed them with fake blood, and incorporated them into my Halloween decorations. At first, I was worried. As the days went by, though, I realized I didnt need to be concerned. The bones blended in with the rest of my decorations. Just more festive material in a neighborhood chock full of it. This morning, when I went out to get the paper, Mr. Stein was doing the same. We met in the street and chatted for a while. We talked about the Cowboys game from last night and he mentioned his wife made a spectacular coffee cake that hed bring me a piece of later. I smiled and told him that would be real nice. Before we parted ways, Mr. Stein said, I never told you how much Shannon and I appreciated all the help you gave us back when we lost Adam. We knew how busy you were. Its been 30 years today, you know. I felt guilt and sadness wash over me. Im sure hes in a better place, I told him. He nodded, and I saw tears in his eyes. He was a good boy. I know wherever he is, hes watching over us. We hugged briefly, then went back to our respective homes. I walked up the driveway, past the ghosts dangling from my trees by their nooses, and headed up my front steps. I looked at the skull hanging above the doorway. It was pointed at the Steins house. [ Watching.](<URL>)"
s_2593_497,I was given the major depressive disorder diagnosis and I was on antidepressants but I stopped taking them because I didn't think they were working and I didn't need them. I'm not sure I can be treated because its so deeply rooted that it seems impossible to change. I just really hate myself and everything about me. I'm not worthy of being cute or self love
s_885_199,"Tips on going back to sleep Sometimes, I just keep waking up from my sleep (like from a dream) and I end up getting less than an hour. It really is really distressing and disruptive to my schedule because I end up lying in bed an hour after Im supposed to get up. Any tips to go back to sleep?"
s_2958_166,"My depression fluctuates between insomnia and fatigue. At the moment I'm experiencing quite a bit of fatigue, sometimes I don't even notice how exhausted I am, but I can fall asleep at almost anytime and anywhere, it's not really helpful while in school."
s_2402_858,"It's less than a month till my sisters birthday. I know I shouldn't, but hopefully I can kill myself in the next couple of weeks."
s_2402_1114,"Is this hypomania? I've been diaganosed with Pyscosis and I'm on Abilfy for 5mg which has helped with my hallcinations and rapid moodswings I was having every few minutes with no cause, but I was wondering about this other thing. It's happened 3 times in 2 months and this recent one started on Monday. I'll try to be as clear as I can. I can't tell what I'm feeling, or I feel extremely great and bad at the same time. I feel like I could do verything at once E.G clean the house in 15 minutes or create a sympothy but I do get better at the keyboard during these periods
I can't concerntrate at one thing for very long, this has taken me 20 minutes to type out. My self-harm and suicidal thoughts increase a lot during these periods but at the same time I feel extremely happy. I talk more rapidly and need less sleep. and more recently, heighted senses
These periods usally last for 4-5 days."
s_2065_1077,"Fires in the Distance I was in my 2014 RAV 4 LTD. A gift from my husband last Christmas. I hadn't asked for a new car, but he had purchased it for me a surprise because we had a child on the way and I needed a ""family"" car. A black Chevy truck wasn't going to cut it with a car seat. He was right. And besides, he specifically found a car in my favourite colour Deep Red. My husband was driving us down a dark, unlit road through the part of town where the farms were located. My town, East Depton, was big enough to be almost totally houses and business, but about a third of it was still farmland. They do call New Jersey the Garden State for a reason, after all. It was fall and the cornstalks were growing on either side of the road. I loved fall, the smell of fresh air and fires faintly burning in the distance. Neighbours having bonfires next door, farmers cleaning up their fields. The multi-coloured leaves and the crunchy noises theyd make when you stomped on them. Sweater weather, cold enough to cuddle but not so cold that you couldnt stay outside for more than few minutes before you really started to shiver. I wasnt worried about it being so dark. The headlights on my SUV were brand new, and besides wed been down this road so many times before. He was chatting about something, work, I think. He was up for a promotion, and he wanted to have another child. He loved our son, and he wanted our family to grow again. With this new promotion, wed be able to comfortably afford it. He was excited. To be honest, I was only half listening. I wasnt sure I wanted another child. I thought I wanted four, and though our son was a great baby, I didnt know if I could handle the emotional stress of everything all over again. Those first couple of months of practically sleepless nights almost killed me. I almost lost myself. I had cracked the window in the passenger side of the RAV 4 to smell the autumn air, the fires in the distance. Everything was silent, other than my husbands chatting. Suddenly there was a sharp report, a few seconds then silence. I laughed to myself, thinking it sounded like some kind of gun fire. I turned to mention this to my husband, when I realized the silence was total. He had stopped talking. He was slumped in his seat. The car kept on. I gasped, as we came up over a hill in the road, cornstalks giving way to charred fields, fires and houses burning on the horizon, skeletons of trees smoldering. I could see tiny holes in the roof of the SUV over my husbands head, but I refused to look to closely at him. I could see what looked like a helicopter swooping out of site. Soundless. Impossible. My husbands foot slipped on the gas and we began to accelerate. We approached a t intersection. I grabbed the wheel, unable to stop us, hoping only to control us. We crashed through the intersection, through a field of burning corn. My mind clouded, hazed with smoky indecision. Did I try to jump from the car, or try to crash into a burning tree that was quickly coming up in our path? What do they do in movies? Whats the safest way? Should I just tuck and roll? My thoughts swirled. As the tree loomed closer, I made my choice. I held my breath, unclicked my seatbelt, threw open the passenger side door, and jumped from the car. As I rolled through the smoldering corn and the car crashed into the tree, I had enough time to wonder if my son had been in the back seat of the car before I passed into oblivion, the smell of fires in my nostrils, on my clothes, on my skin...."
s_1933_177,"This works for me most of the time, but then sometimes, when it lands on the side I hoped it would, I realize I actually wish it had landed on the other. Then I continue flip-flopping. I'm so indecisive."
s_41_1783,"Need some encouragement - GUYS For most Christian men, masturbation is a struggle. Lust is accompanies it. About three weeks ago I stopped looking at porn/masturbating and felt incredibly strong in my faith. Oddly enough, the temptations became stronger as I felt my hormones rising daily. My hope was to have a wet dream - so I'd feel blameless etc etc. I didn't and just today I suddenly gave in and now I feel super guilty. But people alert me that guilt is not from God, and that it's not through anything we do that gets us to Heaven but through Christ alone and what He did on the cross. So, why do I still feel this incredibly amount of guilt when I should, quite possibly, be joyous that even in my lows, Jesus still loves me? Thanks
PS - also, I gave in kind of after I felt that I had received what I wanted, which was a passing grade on a huge certification exam. I told myself that didn't play into it and that I just wanted to love and obey God, but I feel that after getting what I wanted, my selfish motives were presented 10 fold. Thoughts/prayers? and thnx
EDIT: Sorry if im not politically correct about terms. Just being honest"
s_2401_87,"It started very young. I'm from South Asia. I have a darker complexion. I have always experienced people getting better treatment for their fair skin. Even in kindergarten the teachers ignored me and gave attention to ""pretty girls""(just fair). Even my own family members told me I'm pretty even though I'm dark. Cause that's a thing. I have low self-esteem because all these started at very young age. Still suffering in day to day life because of colorism."
s_2065_328,"I know how you feel. I was 100% ""omg I need to breastfeed my baby"" and when I simply couldn't do it (for various reasons) I decided to first supplement, then switch completely to formula. And I *did* feel like I failed myself. And my baby. I was literally crying in the pediatrician's office when I told her I started supplementing. She took my hand and told me in the calmest, kindest voice ever, ""Fed is best. They all grow."" And though I knew this, I used to *say* this to everyone...hearing her say that touched me and I just felt relief. So, whatever you decide to do, I applaud you. But just know this: **you are not a failure**. Talking and posting here will def help you. I only wish that I had known what Reddit was when I had a tiny newborn. It would have probably saved me SO much suffering. Please post here when you're down, up, and anything in between :)"
s_2595_453,"Are mental breakdowns real? I'm trying my best to keep myself together. I've been severely depressed the last couple of weeks and I feel like I'm on the verge of one, I don't know how to put how I've been feeling into words but I feel like I'm on the brink of some kind of emotional collapse. Google wasn't very kind with the results so this was the only other place I thought to ask, so any help to this question would be appreciated."
s_2338_949,"[NSV] Ran without feeling like I was going to die! I've tried C25K in the past, I've tried every recommended method of trying to run. I've run really slow, moderate pace, outside, inside, treadmill, track you name it. My heart rate always got up to 187bpm within a minute of running. I haven't run in probably 18 months. In those 18 months I have started and quelled a battle with anxiety. I've been on Celexa for 8 months now, and have not tried to run in those 8 months... until yesterday. A little background: husband and I started eating healthy, tracking food, and working out one week ago today. We both have confidence we are going to make it this time, and are taking it slowly, one day at a time. Yesterday was my leg day. I did my regular leg routine and just planned on walking with my husband on the treadmills for 30 minutes. I got bored after about 2 minutes of walking and decided to try a light jog, hesitant that my HR would shoot up and I wouldn't be able to breathe very well. Quite the contrary! My HR was at a max of 167, and I did intervals of running (90 seconds on, 2 minutes off). I wanted to cry. I'm now convinced I am able to run and will eventually be able to run a mile for the first time in my life. When that day comes I will be bawling in the middle of my gym. I feel like we're really going to make it this time."
s_2100_201,"I really just want to sleep I've been in a bad mood for the past month. Like just alternating between want to break things and wanting to overdose. I keep overanalyzing and hating a bunch of aspects of myself. Coincidentally, I started a new job a little over a month ago, I stopped taking prozac because at the time I was feeling pretty good and it's such a tiny dose, and I stopped doing regular exercise. I can see that it's mostly these three things that are making me feel way worse than normal, but all I want to do is sleep. It's easy to sleep. My boss just left a voicemail to call him back and I'm pretty sure it's to get me to pick up a shift tomorrow. Or sign a paper, not sure which. Probably both. I just feel like shit :("
s_1808_12,"A Lament and confession I feel like the best thing to do to make me feel better is to confess what I feel is something Ive done terribly wrong, and to lament on why I'm feeling depressed. Ill explain my logic for this at the end of my post. Andy feedback or advice is extremely appreciated. As for the terrible thing I did wrong: Right now, im in college and about to go into my senior year in college. My parents are paying for my whole college since I am unable to take out a loan because of my parents finances, and they have set very high standards for me in terms of grades. not even a B is enough for them. They plan on moving to the other side of the country in a year next summer, and they expect me to graduate on time this next summer. The problem is I wont. I lied to them, I told a big lie saying I was going to graduate on time, I even went to the extreme of pretending to be my advisor saying that I would graduate on time. The reason I wont be able to graduate on time is because I failed calculus (something they would get extremely pissed about and might have even cut off my college funding), and some courses from a community college from a while back didnt transfer over to this college. This is bad, my parents want to be able to move and have their plans all set for next summer, and I still wont have graduated. My plan for this was to save up as much money as I can so I can get my own apartment, and take out loans without them knowing when I turn 23 in a month, since FAFSA does not take your parents finances into account for loans once you turn 23. Then I would break the news to them sometime around christmas that I wont graduate on time. Even though it seems like I solid plan I feel guilty as fuck and feel like a piece of shit for doing this. I dont deserve anything. I dont deserve happiness, I deserve to be depressed, I lied to my own parents, such a big lie
But I had no other choice. I'm so afraid of talking to my parents, and a few months ago I tried telling them the truth, but the moment I did I saw my mom getting furious at me and I got so scared and had to make up a lie saying I didnt know for sure whether I would graduate on time or not, and from there I formulated my bigger lie
I've always been afraid of my mom, I could never go to her for advice because she was always condescending and critical, and always easy to piss off, and extremely stubborn. I know she cares about me, but her attitude prevents me from confronting her about anything. I dont even know how I am going to break the news to them about not graduated on time, im really afraid. My mom has overacted to things many times before. I even remember once she threatened me saying she could make my life hell. yet at the same time she will do things like get me a birthday gift, she pays for my college, she sometimes makes breakfast. The lament: I seem to have confused hard work and suffering, and used to think that because of the suffering I have endured in life I would be rewarded. I now know thats not the case, you have to work hard to be rewarded, and I feel like the suffering I have gone through in life is extremely unjust. I missed out all of my highschool because I was very afraid of people, had low confidence and low self esteem. Im still rather afraid of people. Im not sure why im so afraid of people, maybe it was because there were times I was made fun of during middle school or when I was a kid. Maybe thats why i'm so self conscious as well about my weight and stuff
And yet people ask me to help out other people, be a kind person, turn the other cheek, and I dont see why. Why should I help others when there was never anyone to help me out in life during those hard times?! All I would have wanted during those times when I was lonely and depressed, those times when I was laying in my bed crying and weak, I just would have wanted a friend who cared enough to say its ok or to talk to. But no people are so busy with their lives they cant bother to help me when I was in pain or when I was suffering. There was a time a few years ago when I was near suicidal, where I fucked up a friendship I had with the best friend I ever had, had to take a leave of absence from school for a semester because of it, and go to a community college which was in a bad neighborhood and nowhere near as good as the university I was at. I was at rock bottom, I had pushed away the greatest friend I ever had by being to clingy (he was the greatest friend I ever had and who cared and who I trusted), i was in a shitty place in life, and no one was there. I was alone, no one was there to say things would get better or things would be alright, or to try and cheer me up or keep me from being lonely. NO ONE was there, fucking no one, I had to go through half a year of shit all by my self with no help, and I feel so fucking bitter about it
tl;dr I think this guilt is the root of my depression, my lack of motivation, my anxiety, and all these other mental problems. I dont see a light at the end of the tunnel, I see this problem as a huge mess that will destroy my life and everything I know in my life will be crushed. why bother trying to accomplish anything or improve myself when my doom is only months away. The reason why I did the lament, I listened to a speaker at a retreat about a year ago, and he said that something like this:
Trauma - lies - feelings - behavior - circumstances
1. feelings drive the behavior
2. lies drive the feelings
3. trauma drives the lies
and one of the ways to address the trauma is the write a lament. without healing the trauma, we cant change our behavior"
s_1601_255,"I thought it would be like that for me too, and actually when I started college, I forced myself to be sociable. But after two months of ease and what I thought was happiness, I panicked. I hated it, in fact. And during that time, I would spend more and more time isolated, and it felt so good. But part of me keeps saying ""Wtf is wrong with you?! Go out and do things!"" But I hate doing things ... I don't know, sometimes I just feel like I've failed as a human being. The few things I like are seen as lazy, antisocial, blablabla."
s_1116_415,"I haven't killed myself because I have some loved ones who I don't think could recover from it, not because I'm afraid of death. Plus, I think if I died my cat would end up at the pound."
s_2815_952,In the face of tragedy. Maybe laughter is the best medicine. I just tried it. I can't stop crying.
s_993_949,I feel I could do better though but I am scared to change my meds as I am somewhat managing with this. I didn't have any major adverse reactions. Although I do have occasional suicidal thoughts. But it definitely lessened my suicidal thoughts and when I was off it I totally lost it and got severally depressed. To each their own I guess.
s_758_848,I would give myself omnipotence. I'm getting sick and tired by my lack of omnipotence
s_2080_469,But for real! I feel so worthless right now.
s_2625_10,"I do sigh a little every time I see the advice of ""volunteer."" It's so common when people are depressed. The idea is that if you have people who rely on you, you will build self-esteem and confidence. What happened to me, is I volunteered to teach English as a second language. I had to go into someone's home and help them with English. It was a really stressful situation. I had a lot of anxiety and I ended up quitting it because it made me feel guilty all the time! It's not bad advice, but it's not the depression cure all people want it to be."
s_2974_1910,"Am I a pansy or do other women have this problem? Getting frustrated (ie. crying) when lifting heavy weights. I'm a crossfitter. And I love the workouts. I've done hard workouts and felt GREAT afterwards (mainly the MetCons ... ie, high intensity cardio-ish workouts). But whenever I do heavy lifting - finding a 1 rep max or a few reps at 85% - when I fail, I feel like a welling up of emotion and get frustrated! And when I typically feel that in real life, that feeling quickly turns into tears. I'm not a wuss! I hardly ever cry. I just was wondering if anyone knew WTF was happening?!!"
s_2958_299,"Lost my mind with severe undiagnosed depression turned into a nightmare SO. I think my ex deserves an explanation, I don't know what I should do. Me and my ex dated for 2.5 years we broke up in april; before we started dating we'd been friends for 3 years I'm 20, she's 21. I didn't take care of myself and I treated her like garbage. She has so many completely valid reasons to never want to speak to me again. I became completely focused on school without any regard to anything else, it was all I could handle. I had what I would call an existential crisis that triggered clinical depression. I went to a counsellor early on when i was feeling a lot of anxiety, they told me I should speak with a philosopher. I wasn't sleeping at night, wasn't eating, was missing showering every other day, and falling asleep in the afternoon or in class. Lost interest in everything I enjoy, was a snob to my friends, and walked around with a chip on my shoulder. I did so many things that were absolutely crazy, and obviously signs that something was seriously wrong with me, but I didn't do anything about it at the time. I became a complete misanthrope, I hated everybody and criticized everyone including her parents. I became dependent on her. In the last few months we ended up fighting a lot and I almost hit her, like raised my hand and said I wanted to, but didn't. I did end up shoving her once. I'm so ashamed about what happened. But wait there's more. I became kind of semi-controlling and I was jealous of one of her guy friends, who I probably was right about but I let how I felt affect me too much. I definitely crossed the line with that too, I just felt like I wasn't good enough at all. I didn't do enough for her birthday and valentine's day. It was just dinner, flowers, and a gift but I felt I should have done more. During all of this I was spending a lot of time playing video games because without realizing it I couldn't deal with my own life. During a panic attack I had I almost cut myself, I've never done something like that before it was crazy, she stopped me from doing that. I was off handedly mentioning killing myself like an ""maybe I should just kill myself then I wouldn't have to deal with"" ____ whatever problem I was having. After she broke up with me at the end of the school year, I didn't leave my apartment for 2 weeks, I just cried. I couldn't piece things together, I didn't talk to anyone I was just dead. It took me a month to realize how messed up I had been. I've since gone in and had pscyhiatric assessment done. I've been diagnosed with severe major depression. I'm seeing a therapist and am on medication. I've never been like this before, I've always been a patient, caring and loving person. I was the one who could take the pressure in our relationship, but I lost it. This past year has been so out of character it's difficult to describe. Apparently my friend's and family has been very worried about me but didn't say anything. Me and my ex haven't been speaking very often since the break up. She wanted to stay friends (for some reason I don't understand) but I told her that we both needed space. She said that she'd be there if I needed anything. I told her I wouldn't. Anyway, now I've dropped out of college for this year while I get my head back together. Do you think that I should tell this girl why I acted the way I did? I'm feel so ashamed about what's happened, I have a hard time believing it myself. She was my best friend for five years and the last 9 months have completely ruined that. TL;DR: I've been diagnosed with severe depression. I've acted like a monster for almost a year, my ex left me with good reason. I feel like I should talk to my ex and at least give her an explanation for why I acted the way I did."
s_2323_34,"Thank you so much! :) It's really hard, but I'm slowly trying to get through this depression. Your kind words are helping me though!"
s_697_314,"Ive experienced this before, for a whole week I went with only about 4-5 hours of sleep for the whole week, it was absolute hell. A few things that I did was I would put a movie or a show on my phone and just watch it until I fell asleep the background noice would help me too if I just closed my eyes. I would also try my best to tire myself out throughout the day so at night I would be so tired I could just try to sleep a little easier. I was prescribed trazadone and that helped me some nights too. I think one of the best things is just getting up really early, even if youre really tired and try your best to not sleep during the day, tire yourself out, hopefully by the end of the day youll be way too tired to think about those things and just sleep. I really hope some of this helps you and Im truly sorry youre going through this I know how terrible it is."
s_855_650,"CD Projekt Red Co-Founder: ""I never played The Witcher 3"". Interview with M. Kiciski. ( x-post /r/games) **Daniel Maikowski: You're the co-founder and one of the main shareholders in CD Projekt, but for the past 5 years you haven't actively taken part in its business. Don't you miss the gaming world, which was an integral part of your life for so many years?** Micha Kiciski: Generaly speaking, I don't miss it. If there's a small grain of nostalgia, I open up some strategy game on an iPad and that's good enough for me. It's not that I lost all interest in video games. I still like them, but now I have many more interests and activities which are more interesting than playing. Back in the day I used to play all night long titles such as Diablo, Starcraft or Counter Strike, and then I had to recover lost health. Always, when I entered a video game world it completely disturbed my day-to-day life. I made a concious decision that there're equally interesting things, even more interesting than games, that simultaneously make me feel better - physically, psychically and emotionally. **You're not about to tell me, that you haven't played the newest Witcher?** I haven't. **Admittedly neither have I. Even though the game looks brilliant, I am overwhelmed by the fact, that in order to complete it, you have to invest dozens of hours.** That's exactly what I meant earlier. There comes a moment, when you have to make a decision, how you want to spend that dozens of hours of your life. At this stage, at which I am right now, I believe that the real world is just more interesting than the virtual one, even tho the latter can also be interesting and addicting. **The game industry is doing everything it can for us to dive deeper into the virtual reality. Nowadays the VR headsets, which are getting increasingly popular, cut the player from the real world even further. Are you not scared about that trend?** I myself used VR headsets and I think they're phenomenal. Games themselves are not a threat at all. It's all down to self-control and common sense. It's obvious, that every single thing taken to extreme/overused will hurt us. Regardless if we're talking about the video games, watching TV or even sports. **What do you think about the success of The Witcher 3?** I think that none of us expected such an unbelievable success of the game and CD Projekt itself. We're talking about a game, that has pretty much won every single award and accolade that you can in this industry. If we're to expect something more, it would be even better sales of the game. My brother Adam (CD Projekt's CEO) spoke about it at one of the investors conferences. The Witcher 3 was of course a gigantic commercial success, but in terms of sales there's still a lot of room for growth. CD Projekt's ambition is to catch up with the largest developers in the world in that area. **Is ""Cyberpunk 2077"" the game, which will allow you to reach that goal?** I think it's absolutely realistic. "" The Witcher"" was a fantastic material for a game, but it also constraint us. For startes, we're working with a story set in a fantasy world. Secondary, we're promoting a brand, that was mainly known in Central-Eastern Europe, and not in the west. I'm confident, that Cyberpunk 2077 can be a much bigger commercial success than ""The Witcher 3"". Futuristic world of the Cyberpunk is much closer to what we know from our daily lives. It's also much more popular, massive as you can tell by its presence in the films, books, comics and games. You have to remember, that fantasy is a much more niche topic. I believe, that in case of Cyberpunk, CD Projekt can fight not only for prestigious awards and accolades, but also for a huge commercial success. It's hard to achieve both of those in our industry, but it's perfectly doable, as shown by Rockstar and, in the past, Blizzard. **Blizzard was your role model?** Definitely. Even before CD Projekt started building games, we were Blizzard's distributors in Poland. We were impressed by their philosophy. Blizzard was putting quality over quantity. You had to wait years for their games, and almost every launch was a success both commercially and in terms of quality. Rockstar has now inherited that philosophy. That company works diligently on every game. They care about even the smallest detail. That results in not only great sales of their games, but also in player's trust. CD Projekt doesn't have any problem with that trust either. Our advantage over many other developer studios came from the fact, that we're raised competing with pirates. When we first published Baldur's Gates many years ago, our main competitor was the 10th-Anniversary Stadium (old communist stadium turned into a huge marketplace in he middle of Warsaw). We had to do everything to gain player's trust and offer them a product, that would be a better deal than a pirated copy. Our philosophy from the beginning was: pirate is just a mistreated client. **CD Projekt is not only a game developer, but also a very dynamic publicly traded company. The past year has been very successful and record-breaking for your company. Where's the ceiling?** I remember, that when we started our journey on the stock exchange, I told my friends that our shares can be worth even over 35 zloty ($8.61). They laughed. Today they're worth twice as much. It shows that even my very optimistic outlook turned out to be very pessimistic. Where's the ceiling? I don't know. I am confident that CD Projekt has extremely good perspectives. They're tied to Gwent and the upcoming launch of ""Cyberpunk 2077"". I don't want to state any numbers because that would just be speculation. **Some people even say, that the recent success of the Polish gaming companies is a stock market bubble...**
CD Projekt's success, as well as the success of few other developers has definitely changed the way investors view our industry. It's a double-edged sword. Individual companies should be judged not by CD Projekt's achievement, but by their own successes and perspectives. I urge people to be careful. Achiving targets in the gaming industry isn't that simple as many may think. You can't assume that investing in the game industy is going to give you high returns. It may turn out, that - just like in every other industry - there are mismanaged companies. For that reason you have to first look at the numbers - financial and sale results, and only then good climate around the entire industry. **You hold almost 11% of CD Projekt, which makes you one of the main shareholders. Do you not have an urge to get involved?** I fully trust the entire management team of CD Projekt. I don't intend to interfere in their work. The company is in good hands. I am not only talking about the management, but also about the fantastic team, that has spent years building CD Projekt's success. **When can we expect the release of Cyberpunk 2077?** Ha ha ha... I know as much as any other person, so I just patiently wait. However, Adam has clearly stated during one of the conferences, that the period between the release date announcement and the launch itself may be very short. Creating a short - lets say 6 month - but intensive marketing campaign is a hard to achieve ideal. Only well respected companies that have appropriate financial resources can pull it off. It's sort of a communication blitzkrieg. You have to be well prepared, but you can win a lot. the rest of the interview was dedicated to the vegan restaurant that Kiciski is opening in Warsaw
[Source (in Polish)](<URL>)"
s_701_746,"I usually have a lesser appetite. The only ""drug"" that's gave me hardcore munchies was a lot of weed."
s_2184_504,"I can relate. My boyfriend once called me a ""sausage "" a few months ago at my high weight of 136..Not sure why.. I know he was annoyed with me. But it stuck with me and on days where I'm feeling like giving up on this and trying to eat more I remind myself of this scenario. I will not give him, or anyone, reason to call me a sausage again"
s_1681_1030,Well this isn't funny at all. I am just sad. Why have you done this to me.
s_2130_209,I think so too but I worry about my spouse and son. I just don't know what to do.
s_1779_165,"There's Something in the Woods I'd even go so far as to say I'm devastated. I've always gone on hunting trips to the mountains with Nate. Every summer since I was twelve. It's what I looked forward to every year. I don't have whole lot of other friends, none, if I'm being honest. That camping trip has been my only chance to socialize in the summers of recent years as Nate has acquired a more........active social life, so these annual camping trips are the only times we really hang out anymore. And now that's gone. I'm twenty one and I have just finished college for the summer. I prepare for a hollow, lonely summer. I am just home when Nate rings. ""Hey what's up, Nate ?"" How about we go on that trip to the mountains this Saturday ?"" He sounds serious, lifeless almost. ""I thought you were too busy ?"", I ask trying not to sound too pathetically hopeful. I changed my mind. I already have everything set up. I insist"", he sounds pressing, like he's frustrated. I don't want to piss Nate off right away as I don't have a whole lot of other friends to spend my summer with and this could be my only chance to see him all summer. ""Okay, sure thing"", I say, slightly shaken by his out of character forwardness. "" What time should we meet ?"" Don't be late"", he replies. Looking forward to it."" He hangs up. That was strange. I don't question it though, if tomorrow is the only time I can see my best friend this summer, then tomorrow it is. I'm slightly disappointed that the crux of my whole summer off will come and go within the first two days, but I decide to enjoy it while I can. ***
I wake up on Saturday buzzing with anticipation and anxiety. My bags are packed and ready to go. I stumble down the stairs and open the wardrobe. I freeze as something catches my eye. My heart turns to ice as my eyes adjust to the man standing outside my window. I slowly turn around, heart in my mouth. I begin to calm down as I gather my things and hesitantly head out to my car. Excitement gradually replaces fear as I drive closer to the mountain. I travel up the winding road leading deeper into the thick, green forest of the mountains and I realise I've had a goofy grin on my face the whole way up here. I remember that Nate didn't mention exactly where we'd meet. I decide to ring but I hesitate before I press dial. I think about how he sounded yesterday; annoyed, angry, almost as if he was forced to go on this trip with me. I don't know why he'd choose to go if he didn't want to, though. Maybe he broke up with Sally. Yeah, it's probably not me. I reckon it's better to ring him than to leave him waiting so I reluctantly press that green button. It dials for what seemed like hours before he picked up. he asks in a deep, husky voice. ""Oh hey, I was just wondering where we were gonna meet ? I think you forgot to tell me yesterday."" I try a chuckle in a futile attempt at livening the conversation. ""Last parking lot before the top. Head down the leftmost track. You'll see me."" ""Okay tha-""
He hangs up before I could finish. I reach the last parking area and start to unpack my stuff. I look around. I've never been up this far before. There's no cars or any signs indicating trails or routes. Once I lug all my gear out of the boot, I make my way towards the leftmost track. This track is significantly smaller and unbeaten than the rest. I nearly missed it when I drove in. I try to think of good jokes while I make my way along the increasingly narrow pathway. If I'm going to convince Nate to hang out with me again this summer, or, at the very least cheer him up, then I can't afford to be boring or sad. Finally a camp comes into view. I can see a fire pit as I near closer. I can see Nate's legs now. Shrubbery is blocking my view as I inch closer to the camp. My heart's racing with excited nervousness. As I draw nearer, I notice that he hasn't budged from where he was standing. Surely he would've heard me coming and at least reacted. His legs were deathly still and firmly planted in the ground. I pass through the bushes that were obscuring my view. My heart sinks and my feet go cold at the horrific image I witness. I feel light-headed as my brain struggles to process the sight. ""NATE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE ?"", I go from sobbing to catatonic when he looks up at me. Nate was standing over the fire pit, which contained two mangled, headless bodies, which were gushing blood all over the forest floor. Nate was holding one of the the heads in his hands, after taking a bite out of the side of the face. My best friend could never have done this. As my vision ceases to blur, I come to realise that it's not my best friend. It looks identical to Nate except for the long, yellow points instead of teeth and blood stained claws for nails that are sunken into the skull of the decapitated head. It grins at me, bits of flesh stuck in it's sharp, bone-like teeth. It's eyebrows are furrowed into a frown as it grins an evil, terrifying smile with it's yellow, huge eyes. It lets out a high pitched giggle, like nails scraping a chalkboard, as it crouches, still, in the silent, peaceful forest. The message to run finally gets from my brain to my legs when the creature bounds towards me. I sprint, not even able to scream from sheer, pure terror. I trip over something and fall into a pile of leaves. It's Nate's phone. I grab it, realising I've dropped my own in all the panic. I manage to get back to my car without looking back and I start the engine and speed down the twisty, turny road back to civilization. I contemplate ringing the police but, what could I say ? Something that looks like my friend killed someone ? No, I had to go to Nate's house and confront him. An hour passes and as I pull into Nate's driveway, I find myself still shaking with shock. I barely make it up the steps to the front door of the bungalow without collapsing. I ring the bell. I ring again. Somewhere around the seventh try, Nate answers the door, seemingly exasperated by such a minor task. ""Hey buddy"", he says patronizingly before noticing the obviously petrified look on my face. ""What's wrong ?"", he asks, alarmed, his eyes slowly widening. ""Na.....ther......dead......wo...."", I begin to sob, knowing he'll never believe a word I say. "" There's something in the woods !"", I blurt out. ""Wha-what are you talking about ?"" He takes a step back. ""There's something in the woods that looks like you. It killed a couple of hikers and it rang me on your phone."" ""Wait, wait stop for a second. Some thing that looks like me rang you and killed some people. I think I left my phone in your dorm room when I met you in school last week, anyway."" I know it sounds nuts but you have to believe me, please. It had your phone and......""
Sally comes in from the living room, looking concerned. ""What's going on here ?"", she inquires. ""Oh hey Sally. This is my friend. You know, the one I've been telling you about ?"", Nate says, looking at her. "" This is my girlfriend, Sally."" I remain silent. ""Uh listen bud, have you ever thought about going to see a doctor or a therapist. I just think you could really benefit from it"", he forces an artificially caring smile. ""Yeah my friend is a psychotherapist. She's really great and she treats all kinds of people"", Sally says. They're talking to me like I'm a child. Ever since Nate broke into his new group of friends, he likes to treat me as if there's something wrong with me and that he only remains friends with me because he feels sorry for me, but we both know he was as lonely and unpopular in school as I was. But I don't mind. If wants to use me to make himself look good in front of his new colleagues then that's fine with me. Right now, I need a friend and he's the best I have. ""Listen, Nate, just come up to the mountains with me and I'll show you."" ""Look, I know you love our little trips up to the woods, but like I said, pal, I'm busy. I have a girlfriend now."" ""I'm not trying to get you to go on a trip with me...... Nate, just believe me, you're the only friend I have and this concerns you too. You can bring Sally along if it makes you feel better. Please, just humour me this once and you'll see."" Nate thinks. He finally sighs. Just this once."" ""Fine, thank you. Uh, you might wanna bring a phone."" The trip up to the mountains is long and quiet. Every now and then Nate would whisper something in Sally's ear. They're probably discussing whether or not to believe me. Just a little longer, then they'll see. Occasionally, Nate would check up on me from the back seat. ""You alright up there bud ?"", he'd ask, condecsending me. Eventually, we reach the car park. It's night time now. It only adds to the eerie atmosphere. I lead them down the same I track the creature lured me down. As we near the campsite, I can hear my heart beating louder and louder, hammering at my chest. I stop before the bushes that conceal the firepit. This is it"", I say. Nate is trying to act as if he finds it amusing but Sally looks as scared as I feel. We pass through the brushes and enter the site. There's nothing but a burnt out fire pit and an old, tattered duffel bag. I hear a muffled sigh of relief from Nate. ""No.....no"", I begin to say. Nate stands up straighter. ""Is this where you saw the bodies, bud ?"", he asks, amused. I can hear the smile in his voice. Now it's my turn to smile. ""No, but that's where they will be"", I say as I take the machete out of the duffel bag."
s_1483_166,I feel like my comment explained that. I fail at my attempts
s_265_7,I killed myself
s_2402_706,"My psychiatrist has told me he's almost certain that I have C-PTSD and BPD. I don't know how to process this as my Mum has been diagnosed with BPD and is getting intensive outpatient treatment for it He's referring me to get an assessment. I know I definitely have PTSD, classic symptoms: Nightmares, flashbacks, hypervilagance ect. But I'm not so sure with the BPD. I hardly ever get angry, I can get clingy. I'd really hate to be abandoned. I get very extreme moodswings, I'm very impulsive and I've always had trouble making and keeping friends. I'm also very suicidal and I used to self-harm. My Mum has always said she sees a lot of herself in me. I know it's not been diagnosed yet, but I never thought this could be a possibly for me."
s_113_562,"This may have been why I felt so tired about halfway through the run. Muscularly my legs felt good, cardio felt good .... my breathing rate actually seemed lower than usual, but I just had no energy at all. I guess I ran out of carbohydrates."
s_2464_411,This had me crying
s_485_248,"Live and let go. I dont let people rent space in my head because at the end of the day me and my mental health is more important than that. I dont resent myself, ive learned that every mistake ive made has put me where im at now and im happy and content."
s_1499_89,"I almost never do it. I think I've stayed home two total days in the last nine months. I always feel kind of bad but my MB is a doctor/currently a medical director for an organization, so she gets health stuff. I nanny for 3 though and the littlest just started preschool, so if I took days off every time I was sick, I would never work, lol. I've been sniffly since October. And actually, the two days I took off, SHE told me to take off. We're Facebook friends and I mentioned having an awful head cold and she called me like ""you know you can stay home if you're that sick, right?"" And basically made me stay home. And the other time I legit had the flu and had been toughing it out for a week already but I was miserable. She texted asking how I was doing and I was honest. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. She was like ""rest up, don't worry about it, see you Wednesday!"" I still feel guilty lol"
s_337_141,"My brother once used a hockey stick to behead my favorite barbie -- it looked like [this](<URL>), except she was tan and had brown hair. Unforgivable. I cried so much."
s_2852_112,"Everything I've ever attempted has been a failure I feel like I have no real reason to keep living. Everything I've ever tried to do, I've failed at
I tried to be an artist. I tried for over a decade, I just couldn't hack it, I was never good enough to do anything with it
before that I tried to be a functioning adult with a 'real' job. I was having nervous breakdowns panic attacks
my panic attacks just got worse as I got older. I'm on meds for anxiety but they only take the edge off, they don't help me function in the way I need to. I've been in a number of relationships, that all are basically variants of the same relationship over over. I got married in 2013, for probably the least romantic reason ever - basically to make sure that if anything happened, we'd be each other's proxy for emergencies
I live with my husband, he supports me, but all we ever do is fight anymore he doesn't love me (this isn't speculation, he actually told me this, he doesn't feel love)
the only time he ever wants me in his life is when things are going well, which they haven't been for a while as I'm not getting the emotional intimacy that I need, I feel so very alone
we moved 1500km away from our hometown 2 years ago, not like it would have mattered, as I didn't have any friends there I don't have any friends here. I'm anti-social an introvert, so it's not like anyone would miss me if I was to kill myself
I'm not close to my parents, I'm an only child, it'd probably be at least 6 months before anyone realized I was gone (I honestly doubt they'd ever find out, I talk to them MAYBE 3 times a year, that was when my mom wasn't dying)
I just feel like I have nothing left to live for. I'm a failure as a person, I can't be independent, I can't depend on anyone to take care of me. I don't see the point of going on
Although I'm also a chickenshit, so it's not like I'm in any danger of actually going through with anything. I'll just cry mope do nothing, just like I've been doing for the past year."
s_1683_34,"Listen To Your Children I heard three knocks. Just three loud, head aching knocks and that was it. I got up and walked to the door. I looked through the peep hole and saw just an open hand in the field of view given. All four fingers and thumb sticking out widely, hand placed deliberately for me to witness. This individual was anticipating for me to look through the peep hole. I didn't know, so I opened the door to see who would be standing before me. I saw no one, nothing, not even a trace of evidence that anyone had been standing there a minute ago. I was creeped out. A tingle down my spine and a bad feeling in my gut were all that accompanied me that night. The next day I had to take my son to school, so I prepared breakfast which consisted of microwave waffles with butter and syrup as usual. The sunlight creeping up on me through the kitchen window was refreshing and welcomed. My son ate breakfast and when we were all packed up and ready to go I dropped him off at school. I drove back home thinking of work and the papers I had forgotten to hand in yesterday. My mind was completely void of everything else with the papers and more piggy-backing my brain. When I arrived home I got to work on my computer. I felt lifeless as I fiddle with files and write up reports. My routine, as you noticed through my little story here, was never interrupted for anything since nothing would stand in the way of it, but something did right then as I heard three loud, head aching knocks. *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
I got up and walked to the door. I already knew who it was, but to make sure I looked through the peep hole. Once again the hand was there, but this time the pinky finger was folded down. I opened the door quickly hoping to catch this sad excuse for a prankster. With the door wide open I once again saw nothing. This agitated me and left myself with an unsettled feeling at the same time. Who the hell was that and what the hell is going on? The next day I dropped my son off at school again and ventured back home in my car. On the way to my house I didn't think about work, I thought about who was behind the door yesterday. I sat there at my computer with files open and blank reports in need of being written up. I didn't touch a thing on the computer, Just sat there staring at the work I needed to do. I just couldn't muster up the concentration, I could only think of the prankster who had kept knocking at my door. *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
This wasn't funny anymore, nor was it ever, but this joke became a lot more annoying the instant I heard those three loud distinct knocks again. Looking through the peep hole I saw the same hand that presented itself the last two times, ring finger now folded beside the pinky. But right then it hit me like a brick, it was a countdown. I opened the door as fast as I could only to find no one there. Now I was more than unsettled, I was mad. This mystery prankster was going to get one thing for sure, and that was an ass whooping. I picked up my son from school that same day and continued on with the routine like nothing happened. My son would tell me of the things he learned and the adventures he had at recess. Today, he told me about his good mark on the spelling test he had in class and how this girl, Rachel, tricked him into rolling down the hill straight into dog crap. It always brightened the rest of my evening to hear his tales in school. He was about to tell me about the new monkey bar set they were going to install in the playground and how he made new friends, but it was getting close to bed time so I told him we would save those stories for tomorrow. I washed the dishes before getting myself ready to read a story to my little buddy before he went to sleep. Afterwards I headed to bed myself. Laying in bed I started to wonder who it was who knocked on the door everyday. When I thought about it, it started to creep me out more and more. You see, I'm a little bit of a paranoid kind of person. Things tend to easily spook me, thus, I tend to take things a little to far. Because of that the whole thing turned into a tremor in my head. It looked to be deliberately targeted at me, and that thought while laying in the darkness became a whole lot more scarier, but that's not the thing that really got me. What really scared me was the fact that this was real and that within a few days something was going to happen. Though, this was my paranoid self taking control. Yet, even when I tried to rationalize it, it turned into a lot more than a joke to me. I closed my eyes and did the best I could to prepare myself mentally for the day to come. After that restless night, tomorrow rolled in through the window and gently awoke me with sunlight. I was almost about to drift off back into sleep, but right then,
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
My eyes shot out from my eyelids. *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
I slowly raised my whole body out of bed anxiously. I didn't utter a word, nor even a thought in my head. All that accompanied myself was an uncomfortable feeling. *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
Well, what else could I do now but answer to the call. I walked from my room to the door, not checking the peephole, and answered. I was met with a little girl selling goods for a fundraiser. She just looked at me with a concerned gaze, so I guess I must have had one seriously petrified look in my eyes. I regained myself and asked what she wanted. She explained she was selling cookies door to door. "" This early?"" I spoke out in a droopy tired voice. "" It's eleven o'clock, Sir."" Great, Sam is going to be late today due to me being a wimp and not getting any sleep. She left and I proceeded to wake my son up. "" Sam, you alright bud?"" His adorable bright eyes greeted me along with a yawn. "" Ya, why?"" "" It's eleven in the morning, you never sleep in."" "" Eleven?!"" "" Yup, sorry about that. It seems your old man was a lazy bird this morning."" "" I gotta get to school! My friends will be super mad now!"" "" Wow, someone is full of energy today."" My son proceeded to get ready and I did too. While in the car it struck me as odd that he didn't ask for a sick day like usual when we were going to be late, so I asked, ""Hey, don't you want a sick day today?"" "" If I did I wouldn't get to play with my friends!"" "" New friends?"" "" Okay then."" Were the only words I could pull out of my mouth before I parked. "" I talked to Ms. Renby on the phone so don't worry about having to explain why your late. Now, get a move on, bud. You don't want to be any later than you are already do you?"" "" I'm moving, I'm moving. Love you dad!"" He smiled and waved at me before walking through the doors into his school. "" I love you too, bud!"" Once I got home I went to work on the computer. A call came from my boss about a costumer complaining about a corrupted file. As I start trying to find the original file I hear,
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
I asked my boss for a moment as someone had knocked on the door. He understood and told me to call him back. So, simply, like the last time, I walked to the door. This time though, once in front of the entrance, I recalled the knocking. I looked into the peephole and sure enough, like life had smacked me in the face, there was the hand. Another finger, the middle one, had been tucked away into the palm. I didn't open the door at that moment, I just put my forehead against it and took a deep breath. Opening the door as slowly as I could I peered out from behind it. I knew that I wouldn't see the bastard who had been knocking on my door. That would be too good to be true. I sighed, depressed about that very detail. I couldn't just go back to doing my work, there was no way in hell with this obsessive knocking on my mind. So that's how I ended up watching supernatural until it came time to pick my son up from school. When I picked Sam up from school I noticed he didn't make as much as a peep halfway through the drive. "" Sam, is there something wrong?"" He looked up at me and gave a smile. "" No, I'm good dad."" But when he returned his focus to the road that same smile quickly faded. "" Do you wanna see a movie? Get some McDonalds?"" He didn't even try to seem happy when he replied with a simple and quiet ""No."" I was concerned. "" Are you sure?"" With the same tone he dragged his next sentence. "" I think I would just like to go home."" I waited until we got home to ask him what was wrong. I sat my son down at the table and proceeded to ask him what the matter is. "" Sam, you know you can talk to me about anything that's on your mind. I won't get mad, I just want to help."" "" Well, me and Jon got into a fight."" "" Well, what happened?"" "" He wanted to come over to my house on the weekend, but I told him that you and I had our guys night out on Saturday."" I was about to ask why he didn't just invite him over on Saturday after our guys night out, or even on Friday night instead, but I had a better question to ask in place of that one. "" Is Jon a good friend?"" "" He is really nice to me most of the time."" I went on to ask about his other friends and, from what I could tell, all of his friends sounded like good people. I figured that the fight he had with his friend at school was a small one that they would get over and make up afterwards. After our talk Sam headed to bed and I would be getting ready to read him a story. When I was approaching my sons room I thought I heard my son saying something, but when I went inside his room he was staring in my direction awaiting story time. I shrugged it off and continued to read to him. Later, I myself hit the hay and called it a night. As I'm getting ready to have a good sleep I turn off the lights. I hear something right then. What it sounded like were footsteps walking through the bushes outside, but these footsteps were as loud as loud can be. You could hear the rustle of the grass and the snap of a twig each step. And as they seemed to get louder than normal footsteps should, they just suddenly stopped. Turning away from the wall to face the window I saw a silhouette of a head peering inside my room. I instantly froze. they quickly ducked out of view. I ran over to the window and looked out of it to see who was there, but I saw no one. I didn't get a wink of sleep that night. When morning came I didn't say a word to my son. I just made him breakfast and got him ready to go. Sam didn't say a thing to me either. Once I got back home I waited for it. I waited for the knock. I didn't touch my computer or take any calls coming from work. Those precious few hours were devoted to simply sitting there waiting for the sound to break through the silence. *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
Sure enough the silence had now shattered. I debated what to do. I could say I chose to not look through the peephole, but truth be told I just couldn't. I sat there, scared, thinking about the one who looked through my window and how the last day was tomorrow. What thought bugged me the most though was what would happen once tomorrow came. I never looked into the peephole once, nor did I open the door. Picking my son up from school, I noticed he was oddly quiet. I thought it was simply the reaction he had given to the tone I gave off on the drive home. Thus, the day went on, but not before one last reminder of tomorrow that I had no need for. I made Sam dinner and sent him off to bed. I skipped story time since I had absolutely no drive to do so and went straight to bed. Once I turned off the lights it took me a minute to turn around, scared I would meet another silhouette. When I did turn around, I saw just that. I could feel my heart rattle while I tried to process what I saw in front of me. Though, as my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, I could tell it wasn't a head. As it turned out, what I saw was a note taped to my window. I slowly made my way over to the window. I took the note down and began to read it. "" I'm so excited for tomorrow!"" This drove me up the wall in ways I could not comprehend. I threw the paper to the floor and jumped in bed writhing under the sheets with fear and a wicked headache. I just couldn't believe that whoever this was had taken the pleasure to assure me something bad is going to happen tomorrow. It took me what seemed like forever to get any sleep. But I should've stayed up. At twelve in the morning I hear the most frightening sound imaginable to any person who would have to have gone through my ordeal. *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
I awoke. Fear pulsating through my veins at speeds unnatural to a human being. Shaking uncontrollably. Breathing sluggish. My eyes puffy. Vision slowly coming to me. Pure terror. This is what I had been waiting for, but It came when I least expected it. There was no trance. I knew exactly what I was doing. I got out of bed and made my way to the door. *Crunch*
Faster the fear pushed through my entire being. I look down. It's the paper. Before I can regain my composer I see a figure in my window. Right then, they were aware I saw them, and like clockwork, let out the most inhuman laugh I had ever heard. This laugh was one that took its time and crushed any courage that I may have had. I could never in my whole life put it into words, but I will never forget it. They ceased Their laughter and darted away from the window. Once they were no where to be seen outside, the knocking came even louder than before. *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*
I ran for my bedroom door to get to the front entrance. The only goal in my head at the time was to not let this person find their way in. Then this frightening realization clouded around my head. The paper note. It wasn't taped outside of the window, it was taped inside my room. They had already found their way in. I ran for Sams room first in a full sprint, but when I got there he was nowhere to be seen. *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*
I ran for the entrance. I tried to open the door but no matter how hard I tried it wouldn't open. I then looked into the peephole and saw something that to this day I have never forgotten. It was my son. He had a knife to his throat. I shuddered. The look on his face wasn't the look of someone scared, sad, or even angry. I couldn't figure it out. Why that face, a face that looked lifeless, a face that had looked destroyed, yet a face that conveyed something I couldn't pinpoint at the time. How could I? I was so scared. I snapped out of my frozen state and started to try and pull the door open while still trying to see through the peephole. I screamed and yelled, but my voice sounded so weak and shrill as it crackled pleads to let my son go. The stranger held up his index finger and slowly started to curl it into his palm. I started to scream ""No!"" over and over again in my same defeated tone. I was crying. I could feel my heart rattling in my rib cage as if it was about to burst right out from me. My blood circulated through my body at intense speeds. I didn't take a single breath. I trembled as I stood there unable to do anything. I was so close, right there, yet I couldn't do anything. I was scared, purely, and nothing else. His index finger finally clasped into his palm, and he did it. He grabbed my son's head and slit his throat. The man then let go of Sam letting him fall to the floor. Then the man walked out of view from the peephole, and as soon as he did so, the door opened. I ran over to Sam and plopped on to my knees while picking him up to put him on my lap. He was trying to say something, but he couldn't due to choking on his own blood. All I could hear coming from him were whispered gurgles as he gasped for his last breaths. How I felt could never be explained by anyone, ever. He looked at me in the eyes, and I could see him, second by second, fade away. All my memories with Sam playing in my head while I watched him die. And then, he was gone. The police never found who it was, and they knew for fact it wasn't me. Why, you ask. When they searched through my sons room, they found something. It was a drawing Sam had made, and on it was the most horrid thing. It was a picture of his new friends. Two boys were drawn with names above them reading ""Keith"" and ""Mark."" But to the far right was a full grown man wearing a hoodie
with a name above him reading ""Jon."" Right then I knew that face, the face my son had moments before being murdered. It was the face of betrayal. I'll never forget it. All I wish now is that I listened to my child more than I did. Maybe this wouldn't have happened, maybe I could have prevented this. If I asked him more about what went on at school, always listened to the end of his stories, found out about Jon earlier, maybe I could have saved him. But It happened, and I wasn't able to prevent it. I never asked those questions and I never listened to the end of his stories. I never found out about Jon until it was too late. My little buddy was seven. That is not a full life that has been lived. I think of him everyday and remember him as the beautiful child I loved and raised. So, from one parent to the other, listen to your children."
s_1355_237,I know it's already been said but this was freakin awesome! You did an amazing job editing that with the video and sounds and the order of it. I'm crying right now
s_1506_14,"Think positive, and perhaps if you feel yourself getting irritated, take yourself away from the situation and calm down.. take a breather. I get really moody, but people around me know my situation so know I can't really help it. Good luck x"
s_1715_23,Ima cry so hard.
s_1933_126,"Oh my god I'm actually crying a little. I was going to go out and buy a new jacket tomorrow for the trip, but with two day shipping it will get here in time. This is more than I could have asked for, thank you so much. This is amazing."
s_1748_197,I have suicidal thoughts but I'm not suicidal
s_2459_833,"Why do some depressed people cut? I'm not trolling here, I am honestly curious. What is the point? I recently started cutting, and I keep doing it. I am for some odd reason allured to harming myself. I almost feel suicidal right now."
s_2139_46,"Got diagnosed with Hypomania I am honestly relieved that I finally know what is going on with me. I honestly thought it was a normal thing to be happy and cheerful, then really low because that is how I have always been. I dont really know what sadness feels like without also feeling suicidal and hopeless and tired. But when I am happy I get hyper and cheerful. I also have gotten very angry especially as a child. Overall thanks be to God that I now know and can be treated. I would like to hear from other with Hypomania about their experiences and ways they have learned to live with it"
s_8_547,"u/blindcolumn you're extremely lucky you're anhedonia has subsided and I'm so pleased to hear another soul isn't suffering. It truly is hell
/u/Pongpianskul I've been going for about 13 years now of suffering severe anhedonia, and 7-8 years of it being extremely severe. I've tried legit almost everything under the sun for treatment with no success. It is truly the worst hell I've ever endured and I don't think it will ever end. If any of you are familiar with the song [""One""](<URL>) by Metallica, it's about a man who loses all his limbs, his hearing, and his vision from a landmine in a war. He can't do or really experience anything anymore, but his mind is fully conscious and awake and he is only suffering with silence and never-ending emptiness. Still, he can't kill himself or communicate for someone to kill him because he has no limbs and cannot speak or see. He is stuck living in hell and cannot escape. This is how I feel every moment of my life, because I can't kill myself but all I experience is never-ending emptiness. This song helps a bit, but then again, nothing ever truly helps rid this emptiness..."
s_3103_67,"gt;This made me feel incredibly and unexplainably sad. I wonder if you felt the same way? Very well executed shot OP The depressing pose was a coincidence. No, I didn't feel sad because I saw it quite differently, as two time-separated shots. it is completely analog, I saw the final effect only a month later."
s_1404_447,"Why do I only have emotions in dreams but when I'm awake, I'm numb? Is it weird? In dreams I can experience deep emotions. Good and bad ones. I am also able to feel pain in dreams. In real life howerver, I""m very numb. I don't have any emotion besides feeling depressed all day. Is it normal?"
s_2000_144,Feeling proud of myself This is going to sound weird but Im proud of the fact that Ive slept in my bedroom for 3 nights in a row. I have been having very irrational thoughts about someone breaking into my home at night and my brain tells me that I need to sleep in our living room in case that happens. Ive been working on this issue through therapy and Ive finally gone a few days without anxiety and sleeping in my own bed. It feels amazing. To anyone struggling right now; it can get better. You got this. 2 months ago I thought I was going to feel like this forever and had no hope; but it is getting better.
s_1633_278,I'm always angry
s_1452_297,"Probably not what you're looking for here, but today is my Dad's birthday, and he's been on my mind a bit today. My dad worked hard to support our family, and I appreciate that. But when you ask what I would thank him for, the things that come to mind are the negative stereotypes that he evinced. I never wanted to be a father. My dad didn't seem to want a family. It was something that he felt he had to do, and it showed. He was distant, and often angry (more on that later) and sometimes abusive, to me, my younger sister and my mom. Later in life when I became a father, the things that I always hoped my father would be guided me through the difficult transition into fatherhood. I knew that I wanted to be present, and involved, and positive, and not ham-fisted and judgemental. I've got pops to thank for that. Pops was a Vietnam vet with a serious anger problem. Most of my memories of him are him being angry. Often for things and reasons that I didn't understand. While his experiences in Vietnam were a big reason for that unresolved anger, I learned later in life that it was something that sort of ran in my family. I experienced it firsthand as a teen and later as a twentysomething that was constantly angry. At myself, at the world, at girlfriends, at everything. There was a moment where I realized that I was becoming the things that I disliked in my father, and that was all I needed to realize I didn't want to go through life that way. After a few years of therapy and some very understanding friends, I developed some tools that have helped me deal with that fuming red dragon, and it has been a long time since I blew up at something stupid. I still get angry, I just now know how to deal with it when it happens. So, thanks Dad, for that too. My dad, like I said above, felt like family was an obligation. He put aside everything that he wanted in his life, because he felt he had to. As soon as my sister and I left home, he started to persue the things in life he wanted. ( i.e. music performance, stage, small screen, re-enactments, that sort of thing.) He eventually spent so much time away from home and mom, that they divorced after 27 years of marriage. I learned that I should never forget to chase my dreams, and make them part of my family, less I become something that I am not. Thanks, Dad, for that too. I recently started talking to Pops again. Small conversations, usually on Facebook. He apologized and recognized that he was a broken father, and I did my best to forgive him, and thinking about it now....maybe I've got to thank him for that too. It's never too late to try and apologize. ( I don't know if it will help our relationship at all, but it was nice to hear.) Thank your Dad for being there. For being strong. For raising you right. It's clear that you want to thank your dad for what he did; that means he did a good job, and hearing that from someone whom he loves is going to mean the world and more to him. I don't think it will matter how many words it takes to tell him that. :)"
s_1839_1210,"[Spoilers] As much as this ep has destroyed the show... I was an emotional wreck. ( very much a rant) I knew she was dying as I went into this ep. I had to know when I woke up, and only finished the ep now. I am furious with the writers, I truly can't believe Guggenheim had the balls to kill off Oliver's better half, and one of her last lines were that she was not the love of his life, but rather the fanfic was.. Gah. But Katie Cassidy in this episode man.. SHE HAD SO MUCH FUCKING POTENTIAL. She was incredible in this episode. From deciding on the DA position, to talking to Oliver, to the final scene. If she were given actual writing, I'd honestly imagine there would be enough fans of her to get Guggenslime away from Tumblr. Hearing her say ""one last time"" though... It broke me. Along with the photo.. I was genuinely crying to the point of my lip wobbling like a child with no ice cream. Why did they have to bow down to Tumblr? This episode is real proof that Oliver should have been hers, as she was his, and it also shows that Felicity is an incredibly unnecessary character. Who also gave out the most bullshit gasp ever when Laurel was confirmed dead. Hiding her face because she couldn't pull together a real tear. I just don't know what to do. What was the secret? Did the container have some bullshit toxin in it, and she pulled a Roy? The writers aren't smart enough for that, are they? Was it simply the picture? ( Heartbreaking too)
I'm so lost right now. Arrow is the reason I started reading comics. Props to Amell though. That shot of him leaving the room and looking truly lost in life.. Holy shit. Along with Lance dropping to the ground. A guy who has legitimately been fucked over throughout the show more than anyone. It's.. I don't want to let go but I have to. I'm genuinely heartbroken over a show, in a way I've never felt before due to a show. A real sense of loss, not for a character, but for an experience. An adventure. I'm done."
s_2455_134,"How do you find the motivation to change myself? I've tried dating for 2 years, but got rejected by everyone and haven't gotten a date. It's damaged my self esteem and confidence a lot. Now I've decided to concentrate on myself. I've decided to stop watching porn, change my appearance, and work out. I feel like I'm not manly enough. I'm a nerdy bookworm that's very quiet with a very doughy body. I can't find the energy to do anything anymore. My passion for life has disappeared. How do you get it back?"
s_1259_114,"I'm an angry person on the internet. But I love people irl, and treat people for a living. I have to vent out my frustraition on the internet, to remain sane from all the problems that people talk about."
s_1609_495,"I had the same problem for the past week or so (and just posted about it on /r/NoFap), and please, don't fall. I was at 25 day and like 30ish on here. Now I finally cave in to the same feelings you're having right now, and it was awful. I felt nothing. I immediately thought, *What am I doing?* and felt nothing at all. So, somehow, find a way to get excited about being porn free again. If I can help you through my experience, my failure will have a purpose. I know it sucks and exactly how you feel, but be strong. Giving up now will only increase the stress in your life. Remember when you were at day one, and all those people who were at a month or so seemed so far away from where you were? Don't go back to that. I wish you all the luck in the world. Stay strong, I'm rooting for you."
s_1499_15,"It's like you're me, but me from a year ago. FH and I got engaged 12-19-15. We're getting married in September, so not completely two years but it has certainly felt like it. A long engagement has its pros and cons - the positives being more time to plan, more availability with venues, more time to save money, and more time to really fine tune what you want. I was very cool and blas about the whole thing at first. I kind of wanted a longer engagement anyway. But I got overconfident and thought ""I'll have plenty of time!"" and now I'm planning a majority of my wedding with four months to go. The extra time can absolutely feel like ages. Mentally, it seems totally reasonable to wait another few months, what's another few months in the long run, blah blah. But oh man can it get on your nerves. I wanted to be married by this last winter. We picked through venues (we live in LA but wanted a very outdoorsy wedding up a mountain and wanted somewhere that we could have the venue for the whole weekend instead of just a single day) and I basically gave up for a while. I was convinced we were never going to get married. After many, uh, unique (insane) google search terms, I stumbled upon our venue. It's everything I wanted and it's so pretty and charming it makes me want to puke. The people who own it are literally the nicest people I've ever met. I didn't find them on wedding wire or the knot or any of the specialty sites. I just started changing up my search terms, I think I found these guys through some kind of combo of ""wedding photography blog southern california mountain weekend trees"". Went through the image searches. A photographer's blog about a pretty wedding they shot is what lead me to the venue. A beautiful photo of a field near the ceremony spot. I felt like crying. I had been engaged eight months at that point and was so disheartened. I was set on this place without even seeing it in person. Once I'd found the name, I went ham on searching for more wedding blogs with pictures. It is three hours from home - not quite 3,000 miles, but still requires a hefty drive for most things - and it's not at all in the area I thought I would find something. But it is perfect. Point being, it WILL happen. I pinky promise. And it will be super annoying to feel like you're waiting forever sometimes, but you'll be grateful for the extra time, too. Enjoy being engaged. Get creative with your search. Think about how feasible it would be for you to organize vendor meetings - might require a trip for tastings but most information is easily passed on through email or skype. Think about doing an all-inclusive venue if there are any in the area - then you can see if you can do a single visit, if you love it, one more visit might do it. I'm guessing you'd be planning farther away because that's where family is - do you have any family there that could run errands for you? Trust someone's opinion on cake? That's another option. Sorry this turned into an essay. I had coffee for the first time in two months, lol, but also I just have Feelings about long engagements and finding the right place."
s_1135_282,"This is my story. A story I've never told a single soul, not family, not even my closest friends. You're the first. But it starts around the time I was 10-11. A bit of history on me first, I was a very lonely child. I never had many friends, I just kept to myself and found ways to make use of my time. So as you may imagine, I had quite a few imaginary friends growing up. I mean, it's just something you do when you're a kid. So among these friends, I had some animals, some people, just someone, or really anyone that I could talk to. But there was one in particular, one... /thing/ that stands out among all my friends. He's the reason for this story. I called him Steve, although he never gave me his name. But since he never protested Steve, I guess it stuck. He was tall and very thin, only about 6 feet tall now that I think about it, but he seemed so much taller when I was just a boy. He was quite pale, and his eyes were dark and sunk into his head, like someone who was in their final stages of a terminal illness. He always wore the same clothes though, it was this dark trench coat looking thing, with a black suit underneath. One thing that I remember most, although I didn't think about it when I was younger, was that he never spoke, or even so much as opened his mouth. His mouth. That's another thing about him. Although he never opened his mouth, I never really wanted him to. There was something about it that frightened me, just an odd shape about it. You know how if you take something familiar that you see all the time, and you change it ever so slightly to the point that it becomes something unfamiliar, and even disturbing? It was like that. It seemed to be just a tiny bit longer than a normal mouth, and it was always in a twisted sort of smile, almost as if he were mocking you. And he never opened it, but I just knew there was something terrible behind those pale, twisted lips. Maybe some huge, terrible teeth, like those alien-looking fish you see on those nature shows about the deep ocean. Whatever lie behind those lips, I knew I never wanted to see it. But moving on, there's another thing about me you should know. About the age of 11, my family life started to fall apart. My parents were always fighting, my siblings were always picking on me, and I was bullied at school with no end in sight. Eventually it became too much, and one day I just couldn't handle it anymore. So I hurt myself. I took a razor blade I found in my mom's medicine cabinet, and I just ran it across my arm and watched it bleed. It felt good. To this day, I'll never understand how it felt good, but it did. The quick, sharp pain in my arm just drowned out all the other pain in my life, at least for a while. But if I had known what it would do to me, I never would've done it. It became something I needed, something my body craved. It hurt me even worse if I DIDN'T cut myself. I couldn't stop, and eventually I had to wear long sleeves to school so that people didn't see. But the first time I did it, the first time I looked at myself in the mirror after releasing all that pain, that was the first time I saw him. He just stood in the doorway and smiled at me, while glancing at the fresh blood dripping down my arm
. Perhaps that's why he became my best friend, because he was there the time I needed someone the most, but nobody came. Except for him. He was there, every time I needed someone, every time I cut my arm or my leg, he was always there, smiling at me, looking at my freshest cut with a strange bewilderment in his eyes. Sometimes I would accidentally go a little deeper, and he would smile extra big, and sometimes even give me a quick thumbs up, as if he knew how much pleasure the pain brought, and wanted to encourage me. After about a year or so of this, I started seeing him other places too. At school, in the store, even in passing cars when we would drive down the road. But he wasn't looking at me, he would look at other people, just stare at them. He only seemed to look at me when I hurt myself. You may find this childish, but I got very jealous of that simple truth. And I would even hurt myself more often, and worse, just so I could get him to look at me more often when nobody else would. And as it went on, I noticed he had a different look in his eyes as he watched me. Almost as if he were beckoning me to come with him, to be with him, wherever he was from. It was the same look a father gives his son when it's time to go home after a long day on the playground, but at the same time, it was the same look a father gives his son when he's just gotten in trouble and it's time to come home without question. Then after a few years of this, around age 15, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I attempted to kill myself. I had no idea what I was doing, even made a few google searches just to figure out how I would do it, but I decided I couldn't take life anymore, seeing as my parents had now divorced, my mom hardly even noticed me unless I got in trouble, and the siblings that stayed with me and mom all hated my guts. It seemed like Steve was the only person who cared, who wanted me as I was. So I decided I would go home with him. I decided to fashion a noose out of some rope I had in my closet, and I hung it from my ceiling fan. After saying prayer upon prayer, and crying every drop of moisture I had in my body, I finally decided I was ready. I slowly slipped the noose around my neck, and I saw him standing there. I looked straight into his dark, sunken eyes, and then I just let my body fall upon the rope. It wasn't anything like I had expected, it was literally the worst agony I'd ever experienced. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, I couldn't think, I just kept getting dizzier and dizzier, and it was all total confusion for those few seconds which felt like hours in themselves. But a few seconds in, I noticed that Steve was walking closer to me. I had never realized it before this moment, but he never walked, or even moved anything more than his eyes when I saw him. He just kind of appeared when I needed him. But this time, he walked toward me. And as I looked at his face for what I thought would be the final time, it was different. He was /laughing/ at me. My only friend in the world, the one person I could always depend on, and he was feeding off all my pain, everything important in my life, and making a mockery of it. He had wanted this all along, he had tricked me. And too late I finally saw where I had gone wrong in accepting his simple gesture of ""love"", his smile which I mistook for kindness, that turned out to be nothing but a malicious ploy for my very soul. And as he laughed and looked me in the eye, I saw his mouth open for the first, last, and only time. There was nothing. No teeth, no tongue, no black, no white, just absolute nothingness. In that instant, I knew that I had just caught a glimpse of my impending doom. I had made my foolish choice. I tried to look away, I tried to close my eyes, but his gaze held me in a viselike grip, unable to look away until he was mere inches from my face, his sneer slowly twisting into a fiendish laugh that sounded as if it was coming from the fiery pits of hell itself. And that brief moment, that one second was all it took. I now knew that I was face to face with Death, the devil himself, my ""friend"". So with my last breath, I closed my eyes and grabbed the rope, and I pulled down with all my might, hoping I could break the fan and free myself from his deathly gaze. I opened my eyes as I heard the snap of splintering wood as the fan broke, the rope fell, and suddenly all clarity rushed back into my head, and Steve was gone. For good. I never saw Steve again, and that was nearly 10 years ago now. I never cut myself or attempted to kill myself again, for fear that I would look up and see HIM. His icy cold stare, his suit as black as the moonless night, his dastardly sneer, and the nothing that lie behind it. I buried this memory in the deepest recesses of my mind, hoping it was all just a dream, my imagination. But today I saw something that changed how I saw the incident. I was browsing the internet, and I came across a post made by someone talking about their imaginary friends, and one of them I had realized bore a striking resemblance to Steve. Upon closer investigation, the person had an eerily similar experience with Steve. It was at that moment, when the icy chills ran up and down my spine, that I realized that Steve was not my imaginary friend at all. He was certainly not my friend, I had known that for years now, but now I knew that he was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, NOT imaginary. And so I write this as a warning, if you see Steve, whatever his name may be, in his black suit and coat, his pale skin, dark eyes, and that horrifically twisted smile, you need to stop what you're doing to draw him in, stop bringing pain upon yourself, and don't let him get any closer to you. Or else you could fail where I succeeded, you may end up in his prison of emptiness. You may be what lies behind his smile."
s_2415_952,"I understand that. Believe me, I have been in the same place before and even now I occasionally feel this way. You're really not alone. I just hope you find your way and me too. I also don't have the energy to do stuff but I am hanging in there. Let's see what happens."
s_2593_447,"Would I still be considered depressed if I hate myself, have no esteem or worth, constantly talk bad about myself, sleep issues, loss a appitite, sadness, self harm and suicidal thoughts?"
s_1265_395,"Still down after therapy but feeling better after eating a great chicken sandwich. This is silly(?) I had a deep therapy session yesterday. Only my third one and I got very down afterwards because it brought up memories of feeling alone when I was younger and pregnant, memories of being abandoned, worries about my son's mental illness....etc. And my son argued with me on the phone later. And then today I felt less down but now agitated and irritable. And I was wondering how to deal with the extra turmoil that is brought on by therapy... like how do people do this. And then I went for a walk to a place down the street with my husband and got a delicious fried chicken sandwich with pickles and dill sauce. And life seems bright enough again. So this is how it goes ?"
s_1193_416,"""I cannot be sure I see the future, in my head. Why blame myself for all I need help for, in my head?"" Two simple lines from a song, and they've really been the perfect description for my depression. I've been dealing with depression since puberty I suppose. Lately I think I've been doing a pretty good job of getting myself out of funks, and part of it has been a personal philosophy along the lines of the title. You'll see how this is a bit awkward for me to talk about in a second, but if it helps someone else dealing with depression, than I'll be any amount of awkward required. _____
**Personal Story**
For the past few months I've been trying, and it's very hard, to live by the mantra, ""Stop making everything about me."" Relating to the title (I cannot be sure I see the future, in my head) - did some jerk cut me off in traffic? I'm imagining a confrontation with that person, where I'm yelling in their face for being such a big dumb jerk. Or maybe some cute girl helped me out while I was shopping, and I'm imagining a date with this girl, maybe an entire relationship, and then I'm back to reality and single and sad again. I think a lot of my depression comes from ""seeing the future, in my head,"" and they're all futures that don't exist. Living in alternate realities. ""Why blame myself for all I need help for"" - part two. There have been crazy snow/ice storms around where I live for the past month. Two days ago my car got stuck while driving, and it took 3 people to push me out. Not 3 people at once. First one person, that wasn't working, then a second person joined in, still wasn't working, then a third. Humiliating. Absolutely embarrassing and humbling moment. And the whole time I'm sitting there, I'm cursing at a God I don't actually believe in, like this whole experience was just him getting me stuck to laugh at my misery. I'm not that important. Cars get stuck in snow. It's something that happens. I needed help, and thankfully, three kind souls helped. Why blame myself for all I need help for? ______
**Coping mechanisms**
I feel I'm already rambling, so maybe if you've already read the above, that's enough to help. But here's what I've been doing whenever I feel those depressed thoughts creeping up (and they're **always** creeping up). 1) ""What's something around me that I can make better?"" - Clean your room, make some nice food, exercise, customize your computer, do some yardwork. But also things like - a few weeks ago, I saw a neighbor across the street furiously shoveling snow. I mean, he looked young and healthy and I was still worried he'd have a heart attack, at the rate he was shoveling. It was one of the hardest things I've done lately, because I am not good with people. But I went into my house, poured an extra large shot of whiskey, and went over to his place and asked if he needed a drink. Ended up chatting for awhile, and yeah he's going through some shit. The point being - I tried to make something around me better. An attempt was made.) As another short anecdote - I had an absolutely terrible day yesterday, and driving home, I was doing nothing **but** getting into imaginary fights with people. It took several repetitions, but I kept thinking, ""I'm in a super bad place right now, what's something I can do to make something better?"" - My answer was, go home, drink whiskey, play video games. Childish, maybe. But as soon as I thought of that, I felt this peace. And I went home, and did exactly that, and it felt amazing. ( Whiskey and video games isn't always the answer :P )
2) this is my emergency backup - ""What's that?"" Basically, there's always something around you to get curious about. I have a coffee mug sitting in front of me. What blend is the coffee? Why is this region a good coffee region, compared to other regions? Now I'm googling things, and learning things, and I'm not sitting in a depressed puddle of ego. ______
TL;DR - Sorry there isn't a good TL;DR. Hopefully this helps even just a little bit, though. Edit - The song is ""Promise me a rose garden"" by The M Machine. I've been playing it a lot, lately."
s_3066_1007,"I had to put my best friend down last summer. Her name was Bob and she was a 17-year-old black lab..with cancer. She and I grewup together and she was always there protecting me and just being a friend. I felt like I was tricking her when I asked her if she 'wanted to go for a ride' that day. Once in the vets office, he shaved her wrist, drew up a red liquid into a syringe, and injected it while I held her. She was very calm except for one instant when she flinched and looked at me. I continued to stroke her and tell her I loved her until she was gone. I didnt think I would cry, but I did. I carried her through the full waiting room in my arms in her favorite sleeping bag with tears silently streaking down my face. Once home, I dug a hole in my back yard and buried her there. There are flowers on her grave."
s_2082_68,"I'm 21, and I've rather recently discovered that I have early onset arthritis in my right knee. So I definitely know your struggle. It's not easy. I usually just use either a compression brace, or a full on DonJoy knee brace, depending on the pain level. However, there are many days I can go without one. But on bad days, I can't really seem to cope with it. I get really irritable, and my closest friends and family can't really seem to be near me. The only one who has been able to stay by me is the wonderful woman I'm dating. She always seems to know what to say or do. My biggest recommendation is to find a good brace, and an even better support system. Because otherwise, at least in my opinion, the pain may just over take you. Also, lots of ibuprofen. Always a big help when it comes to inflammation, or any sort of pain. Hope this helped you!! You are not alone!!"
s_3001_39,Well Im falling behind in college and I hate myself right now
s_703_71,"Feeling kind of stuck How I started: I do have a history of disordered eating. I would only eat when I was explicitly hungry, would not eat when depressed and would punish myself with long cardio exercises after eating ""bad"" food. I weighed about 50kg at that point, but was never really happy. Took me a few years to get out of it and to start enjoying food. Fast forward to this year, I decided I should tweak my current habits and do something nice for myself and improve my health. Have started paying attention to my diet again at the start of August and went from 64-65kg down to 61-62 range, without any big increase in exercise and no calorie tracking. Stats: F29, 157cm 5'2"", CW 61.5kg job: sedentary Since August 19 I have been a regular at the gym 3x a week with a personal trainer. Additionally I go for 3-4x 15km walks a week( some of them sometimes replaced by bike rides). I have been sticking to a diet of <PHONE> calories a day (no added sugar, no bread or pasta, everything freshly cooked at home), and I track everything. My body has been adapting to the exercise nicely, I see some changes there, but the scale... Every few days I go through a cycle of 60.5-61-62 This is my seventh week already, and I haven't dipped below 60 in any of my morning weigh-inns. My energy levels have been extra low recently and my concentration is basically non existent atm. This could be because I donated blood, but that was over a week ago and I focused on my protein and iron intake the whole week. I just feel a bit disheartened and like I am running I circles, but I am not sure what I was expecting, tbh. I could lower my calorie intake even more, but I do not feel comfortable doing that at this time. I just don't want to fall back into that ""punishment"" mentality, it is really hard to shake. Anyone here with similar experiences?"
s_891_797,"Pheromone Spray was Deleted so here you go! I know by the time everyone is done reading the next sentence most of you guys will be shaking your heads and calling me an idiot. I bought one of those pheromone colognes online. I never really believed in any of that, but for some odd reason, this one just seemed to make complete sense to me. Plus at only seven dollars a bottle I figured the worst case scenario is losing out on seven dollars. It was called Lust Enhancer and in 5 days it would be in my mailbox. Im not going to lie. For the next 5 days, I checked the mailbox to see if it happened to come in early but walked back into my house with a slight feeling of sadness. I just really wanted more people to pay attention to me. As a bisexual male that never got the attention of either gender I wanted, no needed, something to help me obtain some sort of romance. Im 29 years old and I havent even gone on a date before. I havent had my first kiss before. I sucked a dick back in college, but the guy never called me back or even acknowledged my presence after that. Yesterday evening when I came back from work I checked my mailbox and found a small brown box inside. I grabbed the box and ran back inside of my house. I excitedly tore open the box and a piece of paper fell out. On the top it said Instructions and right below it was only one simple sentence. One spray every 3 days. I took the small bottle out of the box and looked it over. Inside of the bottle was a thicker clear liquid. Whenever I moved the bottle the liquid slowly moved towards whatever direction the bottle was at. I set it down on the table and watched the liquid slowly settle back down. I wondered how it would come out of the bottle so I uncapped it and sprayed myself in the neck. When the liquid hit me in the neck I let out a loud gasp. It felt like water hitting my neck, but I could feel the liquid moving. I dont really know how to explain it any better other than that it felt like the liquid dug into my pores. I tried to rub out whatever was left, but my neck was completely dry. I could feel myself start to panic so I took a couple of deep breaths and started to rationalize with myself. Im just tired. Cologne does tend to dry up as soon as it touches any type of skin. The liquid was not moving. Maybe it was just running a little bit because I sprayed so close to my neck. After I managed to calm myself down I ordered a pizza. I was hungry and curious now. Whoever came up to the door will definitely be affected by the cologne if it is real. 40 minutes later someone rang my doorbell. A 30 something-year-old guy was standing outside with a pizza in his hands. I walked up closer to him and asked him what the total was. With a look of confusion on his face, he told me that it would be $14.19. I asked him if there was anything else I could pay him with, and to my excitement, his face started to go from confused to somewhat turned on. I grabbed him by his arm and pulled him inside. I wont go into details, but I got a free pizza. He was a biter which I liked, but at times he bit a little too hard. I didnt care. I loved it. I woke up this morning to see another person lying next to me for the first time. I gave him a little kiss on the cheek and he woke up. I asked him if he wanted breakfast and he nodded his head. While I was in the kitchen making some eggs and bacon he walked into the kitchen and told me that he was fired last night. He also told me that this was his first time ever doing anything with another guy. I laughed and told him to sit down. After breakfast, he started to look a little distant. He kept being short whenever I asked him a question, and by 2 pm he snuck out of my house while I used the restroom. It didnt really make me sad, though. I mean there are plenty other people around where I live. Take, for example, the lovely brunette that lives 3 doors down. I had a crush on her for the past 2 years, but I never had the courage to even talk to her. That is when I messed up. I grabbed the bottle of cologne and sprayed my neck two more times. It felt like the liquid went inside of my pores again, but this time I was fine with it. I walked over to her house and knocked on her door. When she opened her door she looked at me for a second and asked me if I lived a couple houses down from her. I laughed and told her that I did and that my vacuum cleaner just broke down. She gave me a little laugh and told me that she would go get hers for me. I was overflowing with confidence that moment. Without a second thought, I took off my shoes and walked into her house. I walked up to the little hallway she walked into and saw that she was pulling the vacuum out of a small closet. I walked up to her and hugged her from behind. She jumped up in surprise and shoved me off, but after a couple of seconds, she noticed my smell. She walked back up to me and slowly licked my cheek before I blacked out. It was nighttime when I regained consciousness. Pain erupted from all over my face. I got up from the bed and walked out the bedroom door. The girl was lying on the ground snoring. Her mouth was covered in blood. I bolted out of her house and ran back home. My cell phone was charging on my living room sofa next to the bottle of cologne. I grabbed the phone and dialed 911. I saw my face from the front facing camera on my phone. Most of my face has been torn off. There are bite marks around each gash on my face. There is almost nothing covering the bottom of my right eye. My cheeks are pretty much gone. Im in the hospital now. The doctors asked me if I remembered anything, but I remained silent. I cant blame her for this. I can only blame myself. Im here to give you all a warning. If you find a pheromone spray called Lust Enhancer get it. It really works, but please only spray once."
s_781_193,"Last couple if days have been good. Today its gone again. Last 2 days I made a lot of progress. I felt good. I applied for jobs, actually ate, cleaned, went to the park with a friend and her daughter, helped another friend build a bunk bed for her boys. Just all around productive. I woke up today and its a complete 180 again going the opposite direction.. Not only with depression looming its ugly head over me all the time. Im in a very shitty spot. About a month ago my car broke down. Up until last week I was scrambling to get it fixed while trying to find rides to work. Turns out it was more than just a head gasket. I burned through personal time the days I couldnt find a ride. Last week I couldnt go at all. I lost my job that I already could barely pay my rent/bills with. I applied for unemployment, haven't heard back in that yet, but with rent coming up next week ill be short $200 for that and electricity. My phone is about to get shut off again with a bill of over $300. Im going to have to sell all of my stuff including my car just to make rent for one more month... I woke up about an hour ago and haven't stopped crying. I havent cried in years. Ive been having anxiety attacks more and more frequently. Im afraid to ask for help. My parents have already pretty much given up on me. The last couple times ive had to borrow money, they didn't mind doing it but we would get in a huge fight because my mom is ""tired of bailing me out"". It completely drains my self esteem to hear that from anyone especially my own parents. I hate myself more and more everyday for being such a failure. I dont know how much longer I can hold on. My world is crashing faster than I can react. Ive lost so many battles. Im about to lose the war."
s_1245_239,"Yes, I am usually the one to plan trips so I don't have to deal with indecisiveness. I pick a date, see if the desired location is available, and check with the group to see if the date works. If not, I offer another but can't give them too many options or they choose none. My other group of friends gets very defensive and overreacts to each others' text messages like they're being attacked. They come to me to vent and I have to tell them I don't think that was the person's intent at all. They don't like when I say things like that because they are thinking with their emotions and don't like my logical interpretations of things. They can be so dramatic, I have to just stay away from them for a while when they start acting that way."
s_2855_5,"Why is it so frowned upon to not like reading books? Yeah, I don't like reading books. I don't have the attention span to sit there for hours and constantly read words. It just becomes tedious to me. It doesn't mean I'm not smart, it doesn't mean that I'm any less intelligent than people who read books. Just means that I find it boring to read and prefer to stimulate myself other ways like watching movies or playing video games. I'm sosick and tired of people looking down on those who don't like reading."
s_2402_711,"The only thing that gives me comfort is imagining my suicide. I suffer from mental health problems that are getting worse. Psychosis, Depresssion and PTSD. It's the PTSD which is really making life hell, espeilly the nightmares. I wake up terrified most nights and I find it really hard to get to sleep, which is making me tired and it's just making things worse. I'm already on Medication and I'm starting up therapy again. There are other things wrong. My Mum has BPD and she's starting to bottle up her emotions which is making me worried. My sister is going through a stressful time with her job. My Dad's physical health is getting worse. I'm worried about everyone in my family, and they are worried about me. I might get one of my friends who doesn't know how bad I'm doing to buy me a bottle of vodka if I give him the money so I can finally get the courage to jump. I just can't handle it anymore. Sorry for the long read."
s_342_1207,"I hate my life, what do I do? First off: no, I'm not suicidal, I'm too much of a coward, I have thought about it though. Anyways, let's begin. Everything was fine when I was in high school, then graduation came, everyone was going off and they knew what they were doing, and I stayed home all day. I can't drive (eye problems), the girl I love dearly thinks I'm a creep (I have a tendency of coming on to strong), everyone's moving on, and time is passing every second (I know you can't give advice about that XD.) Naturally, with all of these problems, I was diagnosed with depression. On top of that, I have no friends. My life sucks. If I wasn't so afraid of death and a coward about killing myself, I'd do it. Honestly, I see no point in living. Also, I can't go to college because I'm poor. Life sucks. EDIT: plus I'm fat and ugly (I have a baby face.) [ This is what I look like.](<URL>) Albeit, that picture is about a year old but nonetheless."
s_1514_725,"(p. 3)
---
Our gazes followed hers to the sky. The gold was still there, but the white was harsh, bright, and searing. The sirens kicked into full gear, their eerie call drifting loudly over the city. The partiers filling the street slowed stopped and looked up. We all understood at the same time. There was no time to prepare. There were no plans, no last-minute heroics, and no options. The end of the world was *now.* Vas was the first to ask the obvious question. "" What do we do?"" His answer came in the form of a great tide of terrified screaming. The party was over. Men, women, and children swarmed in various directions in mindless terror, desperately seeking boltholes in which to hide from some great unknown but approaching destruction. Heart pounding, I waited, and looked to Cristina - as did the rest of our makeshift squad. She grabbed the radio and raised it close. "" What's your name, soldier?"" ""Parker, sir,"" he replied, nervous. "" Ryan Parker."" ""Ryan, I'm going to need you to focus, and make every single second of the next hour count. You hear me?"" His voice quavered. "" Yes""
""Now, you've got everything you need at your station. There are country-wide systems in place to prepare against a nuclear attack - hardened communications, bunkers, warning systems, and the like. Now all you have to do is turn them on, okay? And pester anyone you can reach to do the same. Yell at them. Lie to them. Promise them beers. It doesn't matter. Wake them up and get them active."" ""Okay,"" he replied, reassured by her calm tone. "" ""One more thing - do you have a location for those EM bursts?"" ""Um, yes, one second."" We waited, breathless. "" About two or three miles northeast of the city."" Cristina looked up at the sky, judging. "" Send out that location data through all the emergency channels. Tell people to get as far away from there as they can."" She looked around at the streaming panicked crowds. "" And ask them to do it in an orderly fashion, if that'll make a difference."" Even as we looked around in fear, a giant television screen on the side of one of the nearby buildings went black, pre-empted by the emergency channels - and then basic green text appeared, recounting what she'd just said. ""Alright. Ethan moved closer. "" I do have a safehouse, but it's on the other side of the city."" ""What about using the vortex machine to portal back out?"" Sort-of Noah asked. "" Let's get the hell out of here."" She shook her head. "" We'd never make it there in time. We have to find somewhere and hole up. It may blast out exotic radiation initially, so we have to avoid exposure."" Adrenaline pushing at my senses, I grabbed her hand and started moving, trusting the others to follow. "" I know this city. Follow me."" Navigating the rushing torrents of panicked people was the hardest part. Huge groups swarmed this way and that, desperately running after any suspected inkling of safety. Many of them saw our six accompanying soldiers and figured we had a good destination, so they started following us. I felt on the edge of panic myself. It was hard not to broach that line, and I danced with the idea of losing it and freaking out every step of the way. My brain kept wanting to guess at potential explosion scenarios - but I had to keep telling myself that I had no idea what it would actually look like. I had to lead everyone to the safest spot I knew. As the tall buildings of the downtown area began receding on the skyline, I knew we were nearing our destination. My panic lessened even as the sirens echoed louder in the open air. The thick foundations of several very large but cancelled skyscraper projects had survived many earthquakes without damage, and we turned the last corner as Cristina's radio crackled to life with a familiar voice. ""What's going on in there?"" a friendly but worried male voice asked. Cristina shouted, using one arm to speak into the radio and the other to push screaming people out of the way. "" How're you reaching us?"" ""Noah Two set up a connection, and I've been working on getting into systems over there ever since,"" Heath responded. "" Everything just went crazy!"" ""The First World's about to be destroyed,"" she replied loudly - and several of our accompanying soldiers looked surprised. She looked to them for a moment. "" We might survive the initial blast, but after that, the white hole won't just go away. We'll try to live through the eruption, and then make a run for the base and portal out of here."" ""*What about all these people?*"" a soldier shouted, looking around in horror. Mothers and fathers ran past carrying their children. Cars honked loudly at one another, but none moved. Larger men pushed their way through the crowd in a state of panic. A seemingly-abandoned young girl stood on the corner and cried, but I had no way of knowing if her parents were around. Over it all, a blanket of eerie unhearing descended - the sirens, seeming to deepen their mortified whine as the last grains of sand in our hourglass drained away. Cristina took all this in, like I did, and forced herself to look away. "" There's nothing we can do""
""Can your Black-eyed Army help?"" Vasiliev yelled, his face temporarily conflicted with the instinctual resentment and anger he held toward her for all her long-ago tortures. She shook her head, and then spoke at the top of her lungs just to be heard. "" Their possessed halves were always difficult to control, but the Sword hasn't been with them for quite some time. They're running on their own agenda now."" Slowing our dogged advance through the crowds, I caught sight of the heavy metal doors to the bunker-like building foundations. People were spilling out as quickly as they were entering - the building was full to the brim. *No good,* I motioned to my squad. Cristina put her radio right up to her mouth. "" Heath, do you have maps of the area we're in?"" ""Already on it,"" he responded. "" You're a half-block away from -"" His words cut off as crackling interference rose to a crescendo. Cristina mouthed, before pointing at the nearest building - a dilapidated housing project. I broke the door in with a charging shoulder impact, and we forced our way inside even as I felt an incredibly strange sensation surging *through me* like an ocean tide on its way out - it was as if space itself was stretching. And it was. I misjudged a step and almost fell. The walls pulled away from us in a surreal semi-optical-illusion, and the ground shook with a vast kick. Wordlessly, using military hand gestures, we directed each other - and our swarm of terrified following citizens - to pull up mattresses and anything else they could find to form a makeshift fort near the building's core wall. I crouched down behind, crushed in with dozens of other people. Cristina held my hand with a fierce white-knuckle grip, and we squeezed down as hard as we could. The makeshift wall of debris wasn't much, but I'd seen documentaries, and even just a single layer could protect from the initial lethal radiation. The tide inside me shifted the other way suddenly, and I felt thrown against the wall by the sheer change in the elasticity of space itself. She and I looked each other in the eyes for a moment. Was that it? Were we going to -
The ceiling and walls above suddenly grew alive with eddies of fire, and I instinctively pulled the top edge of the mattress down hard to make a seal with the wall. A swift punch to the lungs followed, in the form of torrential winds blasting through our huddled mass. The roar was preceded only by the sound of countless windows shattering, and then a screeching note blanked out my hearing. I could see huddled families screaming, but by what light I was seeing our shadowed enclosure, I had no clear idea. I couldn't tell if the earth was shaking or whether it was the insane winds against the building, but it didn't matter - there was nothing to do but pray. Pray - and hold on to the mattress above me. The heat in my slightly exposed hand became unbearable, and I thought I could feel my skin melting but to let go would have been unthinkable. With my free arm, I only gripped Cristina's hand harder. She seemed to instinctively understand what was happening to me, and she tried to take whatever part of my pain she could. A slow ebb in the maelstrom crept up on us, until a moment of true calm and silence fell. Cristina yelled something, but I could only hear that screeching ring in my ears. Fortunately, the huddled soldiers and families were too deep in shock to get up. The devastation was not over - it was merely changing direction. The hurricane winds picked back up, surging back the other way to fill in the air pressure void left behind by the initial eruption. The air was still searing, but my exposed hand had gone quietly numb. I didn't dare do anything but hold on until the ghastly winds finally slowed for a second time. This time, people knew the explosion was over, and they began peeking out. Talking didn't work at all, as everyone had been temporarily deafened, and we began using hand signals to direct those at our edges to slowly exit. ---
(continued below)"
s_299_514,Im in a diet and I have cravings. So instead of me eating. Who wants to eat my cravings for me rn?
s_2486_51,"My wife didn't want me to go into the bedroom. Hi R/Nosleep. I havn't been able to sleep for a while. Sometimes I stay up late. I love my wife, so much. So so much. But, sometimes I stay up late. My wife goes to bed, and I stay up. Redditing or playing video games, or watching T.V...
I'd fallen asleep on the couch as I often do, and I awoke to my wife standing over me, crying, shaking me awake. I asked her what was wrong, but for a while she didn't speak. She just hugged me and sobbed. I stroked her hair and comforted her. I wondered if she might have had a dream that I died or something, or if maybe she'd received a text with some tragic news. Finally when she calmed down a little she said ""Let's just sit together for a while."" ""Do you want to tell me what happened?"" She seemed to think about it, and decide against it. "" I just want to spend some time with you, for a little while."" ""I'm tired."" I said, stretching. "" Let's get in bed."" "" she almost seemed to shout. "" I don't want to go in the bedroom right now."" I was concerned, but my wife could be a tad eccentric, sometimes even charmingly child like. Maybe going back in there would remind her of a nightmare she'd had? We wound up sitting on the couch chatting. About anything and everything under the sun (except for what had upset her). We played portal. She made coffee, and we snacked on some left overs. We laughed, we reminisced about the early days of our relationship. Before we knew it, it was 7:00am. "" I'm too tired, sweetheart, and I'm sure you are too. Let's get some rest so we don't waste our entire Saturday."" She cried. "" I asked ""What's the matter?"" ""We just can't go in there. If we go in, it'll be over."" She said, her eyes welling up with tears. What's in the bedroom?"" ( I was really confused. Had she accidentally broken some heirloom, and she was afraid I'd be upset with her?) There was a long silenced as she fought back sobs. Then finally...
""My body is in there! I'm dead, Prakash. I saw my dead body, lying on the bed. Once you see it, it'll be over."" This was a bit much. Obviously she'd had some nightmare, that she'd believed was real. ""Oh, sweetheart, no. No...it was just a bad dream. Everything is ok."" I hugged her as she sobbed. "" Look, you're just sleep deprived. You'll feel better when you wake up. I promise."" She nodded somberly, then walked silently, with me to the bedroom. I gestured to the empty bed, completely devoid of bodies. ""See there? It was a dream. Lay here with me."" I flopped onto the bed playfully and then propped myself up on my elbow, to chat until we slept. She laid down next to me and closed her eyes. ""So, what had you dreamt?"" She didn't answer. "" Did you really fall asleep that quickly?"" I shook her, and she was stiff. I noticed her lips were a little blue around the edges. Next I noticed she wasn't breathing. Of course I panicked. Of course I called 911. She was only 27 years old. An aneurysm in her sleep. The coroner said she'd been dead for five or six hours before I ""found her body"". I miss her so so much. I hope my promise is kept - where ever she is now, where ever she woke up, I hope she feels better. [Sleep well, everyone.](<URL>)"
s_1924_22,"I go to all my classes and try really hard to study all the time but focusing is still hard because my mind wanders even without touching the internet (which is why cutting has become a strategy to get myself to focus again) I feel like at this point dropping out is my only option which i know would make my parents furious. Hearing other people with similar experiences but still are chugging along makes me feel a lot better, so thanks."
s_993_823,Don't know if I am paranoid One of my favourite actor died of suicide :( He was just 34. I kind of identified with him. I was in good mood yesterday. But somehow today felt off from the start. Also I was listening to Nirvana and lamenting Kurt Cobain's suicide around the same time. Then this news came. I know rationally that this doesn't make sense. But it felt a weird connection. Needless to say I am at very bad place now. I despair that this mental illness will some day break me too. I have already committed twice during teen years but now I feel like I have sorta control on the impulse. Also I was pretty heartbroken with death of Avicii. Why do my favourite artists keep going away :(
s_734_832,Finally the country's entertainment industry begins. I hope for more success in the future
s_2402_528,"Why wouldn't dark jokes help? The thing is I hardly get angry, I'll get a bit annoyed or frustrated but I haven't been angry in at least couple of years. It feels like I'm not capable of it."
s_549_729,"Dear Reddit, Help needed **tl;dr** (Very long post... so putting a tl;dr at the top and the bottom): Was getting energy back in life. Lost it all again. Help needed. I have to admit, I have not been diagnosed as depressed. I haven't even seen a therapist yet in my life. So I'm sure my problems aren't half as serious as the problems on this subreddit. Maybe I'm just weak. 28, male, single, failure, you know the usual. In any case, I would really appreciate some help. Much of the last year was spent in a haze or sorrow and anger, mostly over a girl. It's not an uncommon story. I liked her, wasn't confident, didn't tell her (also, she had a boyfriend) and so traveled to the friendzone. ( EDIT to add details: Burnt my fingers with cigarettes a few times, punched many trees and walls till my knuckles swelled up and I couldn't write a few times, drank a lot of whisky...nothing extraordinary inasmuch as life goes). Told her eventually and was told I had betrayed her
(which was true, I don't deny. I should have told her long before...but it was lack of confidence, not an intention of ... oh whatever). We became friends again. We're roommates too now, so sometimes (since I see her daily) things still hurt in my heart. You know, the usual. I am also doing a PhD in what would be considered one of the top 5 universities in my field with one of the top 2 people in my field. I said all that to indicate the irony that I'm going nowhere with it. He doesn't care what I do. If I was self-motivated enough to do something about all this, it would all work out. All I need to do is sit down and work. But I don't. You know, weak...the usual. The end of last year, I decided I would turn a new leaf and fix my life, one step at a time, however small those steps were. I told some people on this very subreddit about my brilliant idea and got a lot of encouragement, and was even told I helped one or two! I started exercising, and dressing better and walking with my back straight. It was all getting better. Then my mom got two tumours in her spine. She had one in her brain, and was on the road to recovery (or the equivalent for brain tumours). She had survived (even lived, you could say) two years longer than the 18 months she was promised. And then two completely new guys cropped up in her spine. Now she's completely immobile. I came back home to help and now can't go back to university for useless visa issues. Which means I might lose my job. The thing is, I was okay with all of this. But today morning, I realized I've lost all energy. Completely drained. I have close friends, but I don't particularly want to talk to any of them about it, becuase I've realized they don't understand. You know, the usual. So, please help reddit. I have no energy left to start all over again on my smallStepsTheory. **tl;dr**: Was getting energy back in life. Lost it all again. Help needed."
s_258_555,Im more than my depression? Is that really true ? Its beautiful for someone to say that to me but maybe Im too sick to believe its true. I dont feel like myself anymore so its hard to think Im more than my depression . Thank you for your words though. I agree maybe I sometimes too much emphasis on finding friends to make me feel better and also criticize myself too much for not having any . I just hope it gets better even though the future feels bleak
s_2415_577,"I dropped out this semester. I don't live in USA though. I can understand how you feel. I have been tired and depressed and what not for as long as I can remember. You should take comfort in knowing that there are truly broken souls like me who sleeps away at least 8-12 hours a day. I am really scared for myself because I don't have motivation for anything. You're better off as compared to a lot of people. Hang in there! Also, it will be good for you to relax once in a while. I suggest body massage or just a hot bath after a long day. You can try meditation if you want as well."
s_1609_335,"I think this my longest streak ever... My secret. ** I have been so busy these last few weeks I didn't even notice how much progress I've made. I should be proud of myself, but it's been so easy. So, if you're feeling tempted, go for a walk, call up a friend, do something to take your mind off of it. When your mind tells you that you don't want to be distracted, rise above it. Be a better version of yourself everyday. I love you guys. Stay strong."
s_3075_48,"I've been going through the same thing, I'm taking lamotrigine atm and I always take it at 10pm and wake back up at 12 or 2am. I can never get back asleep and I've been having really bad nightmares. I encourage you to speak to your doctor and talk about different options or medications with the least side effects that will have the best benefits. I'm in a mix episode right now it's still happening too"
s_1187_581,When I go to bed I usually start dreaming almost immediately when I close my eyes. Is this normal? I also require a lot of sleep before I feel actually rested -- normally 10-14 hours.
s_2065_472,"I'll keep mine brief but if you're wanting more details please feel free to inbox me. I started a keto diet at the end of last April. I've been on-and-off strictly faithful to it (usually in about 3-month chunks, then I will take a couple of weeks or so and eat all the things b/c hey, I like to holiday and birthday lol.) In that time (what will actually be a year at the end of this April) I have lost 35 lbs and kept it off, even with the cheat-times. I am skinnier in a way that I never was before, even when I had time to go to the gym and run 2 miles a day. I feel better mentally and physically. When I'm on it 100% I do not have lingering pain in my hip that I sometimes have. I have more energy. I feel like I'm in high school again. My skin looks amazing. Starting it sucks. The first 2-3 weeks are sheer hell as you first get through your sugar/carb cravings and adjust to portion control. You might stab someone. But you get through it and you feel so much better; you do not crave; you actually feel FULL after eating."
s_976_910,"I'm a lady in a similar situation as you, we're in about 1-2 times a month and have also found that exercise and meditation, although they help a bit, don't really give me the relief I need. Masturbation is great, it clears the cobwebs and I watch good porn and that gets me going but both usually make me frustrated about what I'm missing out on. I too prefer the intimacy of being with my other half and making love to him as well as getting off. I also issues with concentration and motivation when I'm not getting any, and tried mindfulness, but I wasn't very good at that. So I've been having imagination breaks, writing mostly, or getting out in the garden with my headphones on and just letting the creative visualisation happen. It's got so that I have a bunch of characters and sometimes things get rather steamy and erotic scenes play out on the paper and in a way it's satisfying for me in that I guess my brain is my biggest sexual organ. It's still not as lovely and intimate as having sex with my husband, but I don't think anything is. At least my little imagination breaks with the characters I've made up and short erotic fiction help me remember that I've still got it. Sorry I can't help you more, but that's what helps me."
s_804_831,"Thank you so much! Ive always struggled with sleep, ever since I was a wee potato. It just gets worse with stress. I can get to sleep, just cant stay asleep. My brain wakes me up after a max of 4 hours, if that. Ive tried literally everything under the sun. I have a special sleep playlist that usually helps me get that 4 hours and I always have Netflix on with Modern Family or RuPaul because those are good feels shows and keep the nightmares at bay! I have methods but Ill definitely listen to this link! Open to anything and everything that isnt: exercise, meditate or take pills."
s_1245_321,"Waiting for a diagnosis for over two years Hi all, I have been struggling with a chronic mystery (possibly neurological) illness for over two years now. I have seen numerous neurologists, family doctors, had tests done but no diagnosis. The most recent bloodwork showed some changes. I see a new specialist in a larger city in August, I scheduled the appointment in January and that was the soonest they could get me in. I hope they can figure out what is going on based on the changes to my bloodwork. I am in constant pain, having memory problems, have tremors and weakness in my whole body, and I am barely able to perform my desk job. My arms have been numb from my deltoid muscles down since November 2017, among many other issues. The medication my family doctor put me on makes me so tired I can barely function. I am scared of having to quit work because I like my job and I enjoy having a routine but it is getting so bad that I can barely walk the distance from the parking garage to my office twice a day. I went from working out three days a week and walking 5-6 miles every day, running up 14 flights of stairs most days, hiking, kayaking, gardening, to not being able to walk up a single flight of stairs. Medical professionals have asked if I am imagining it or have told me that I LOOK fine (which I attribute to being so active before I became ill). I am really struggling right now. I can't exercise so I am restless but also physically exhausted. No one knows I am sick because I don't talk about it and don't ""look sick"" on the outside but I have had to isolate myself and cut out activities that I love so I can have the energy to make it through the day. I recently had dinner with some friends who I have known for over ten years and they didn't even know this was happening to me. I am feeling pessimistic toward seeing more doctors as I have had so many visits with different doctors who couldn't give me a hint of what is going on. The first family doctor I saw told me not to come back for this issue because they couldn't help me. Family and acquaintances are telling me to stay positive but I am being realistic and not getting my hopes up expecting a diagnosis. I want to know what is going on but it feels like no one will ever figure it out. How long did it take for you to get a diagnosis and how many doctors did you have to see? I don't know what I will do with myself if I can't work. The feeling of not knowing what's wrong is making me anxious, yet, a diagnosis would make it real and could potentially change the rest of my life. I feel very isolated and have a hard time talking about it to anyone. Thanks for reading, just needed to share. TL;DR: How long has it taken you to get a diagnosis for your chronic illness (if you have been given one)? Did you feel a sense of relief about your illness once you knew what it was? How are you coping with the changes to your life caused by your illness?"
s_2603_13,....I'm definitely crying
s_1036_1033,"I used to be a huge stoner starting at 15. I'm 19 now and have been sober since May 10th of this year. There were a lot of reasons I quit. I was spending a lot of money on it, I was doing horrible at college and the increased paranoia and anxiety started to control my life. I don't believe that marijuana is a gateway drug, it was for me but not for the rest of my stoner pals and other ents that I know. I went from weed to painkillers to coke and then combinations of all of three of them. I quit those three and focused on cigarettes, and I quit smoking those last Monday. As far as why I don't smoke weed anymore? I don't enjoy being high anymore. It brings back all the bad memories and panic attacks and it just isn't worth it. Do I miss it? I guess so. But that's not who I am anymore."
s_2748_461,"No work at the moment. I have gotten plenty of rest, but still feel horrible. Anxiety is eating me up. I play guitar, but have lost interest because of my depression. I have a Yamaha and Fender acoustic and an Ibanez Electric, but my amp blew during my last move so I have no way to play the electric. I appreciate your encouragement. My family always makes me feel like I need to be productive every waking moment or my life will fall apart. They're probably right but I don't feel well enough to accomplish anything right now."
s_2679_8,"I've been able to manage my depression quite well using trees. The suicidal thoughts are pretty much gone which is a huge relief. The negative is that I tend to get lazy. Also, I don't have much of an appetite unless I'm high. That can be considered both good and bad, depending on how you look at it. I'm sure it would be easier to manage in general if I were able to buy legally, but I take whatever I can get so I usually don't get the option of choosing a strain that would work best for me. I really need to work on getting a prescription...
Off topic but I'm going crazy and need to vent: I'm stuck at my dad's for a week to help take care of him (he's disabled) and only have some low grade brown stuff. I can't wait until my gf gets here tomorrow night! She's bringing some green!!"
s_1675_52,Thanks im very proud of myself
s_2408_55,"I know it is irrational, selfish and plain stupid. I know that I am ill and it is the depression that makes me feel like this. I know life can be wonderful, but even if I don't value mine there are many things that I can do to help others. I once read that depression is ""when pain exceeds pain-coping mechanisms"" and I think that is exactly what happens to me. I can clearly see what is going on with me, but I simply don't have the energy to do anything about it."
s_1404_1080,"I disagree with your breakfast example. Its true that it would be alot of pain to not have breakfast. But that doesnt mean we will enjoy having it. Enjoying is not exactly the same as 'not suffering'. Because I have breakfast, I do not have to suffer not having it. But that does not mean I enjoy it. Breakfast does not make my life good and enjoyable, the only thing it does is taking potential suffering away.(not having breakfast) In other words, I see it like this: 1. not having breakfast - gt; bad life experience 2. having breakfast - gt; neutral life experience 3. ??? - gt; good life experience. I don't know what I need in my life to enjoy it because currently I do not enjoy anything in my life No matter how good my breakfast tastes, even if I eat something new that tastes really good, I don't enjoy eating it. I seem to be unable to enjoy life at all. Do you think that I can truly enjoy eating if I starve myself for a week? Well even if I starve myself for a week so that I can enjoy eating after it, it would also mean I have to suffer for one week."
s_188_399,"GOD FUCKING DAMNED, now I typed all this shit but can't post it because the link has been removed. So, I'll just put it here. I am fucking ANGRY now. Someone has to suffer for this. ----
The world will *certainly* be a much better place without religion, because religion does the opposite of what science does, in two ways:
1) Instead of using the method of doubt to find greater levels of certainty, it uses the method of faith to assign levels of certainty to claims that don't deserve it. 2) Instead of bringing the truth about the people's environment to them and thus increasing survivability and quality of life, they give fantasies the same value as actual facts and, well, basically allow people to live a life in a fantasy world: Many people sharing the same fantasy and claiming that it is actually true ""makes it real"" via the omnipresent people who believe *that* it is real. The brain who decided to unreasonably believe, no matter what, can conveniently confuse this quasi-manifestation of its truth-value with *actual* manifestation. "" Might makes right."" and ""Might makes reality."" to some degree. If religion would go away, the most potent agent for helping people to confuse reality and fantasy and the most potent promoter of unreason would go away. It would finally be *possible* - because the *opposition of BILLIONS* would be absent - to establish a kingdom of truth. Where presenting fiction as facts (aka LYING) would be much more stigmatized as it is today. Today, if you really look at it, people distort the truth 100 times a day. When was the last time you realized that all stores that show you prices like 3.99 instead of 4 are *lying* to you for the purpose of making more money? Intentionally distorting the truth is lying. Intentional informational deception is lying. In a world with a much higher overall truth-level, the presence of a lie would be much more resented than it is in this fantasy-infested cesspool that I did not choose to have to dwell in. It's an emergence / threshold thing. With a higher truth level, introducing lies would be rejected a lot more. But why truth at all? Well, do you want to touch the hot plate? That's a very coarse example for why you'd prefer to know the truth, but if I'd have to list all smaller examples, I'd have to type for centuries, so you have to extrapolate. The more fine-grained the presence of truth about the world is in our minds, the better our lives and coexistence will be."
s_984_722,"If I couldn't listen to the soundtrack without tearing up, I be crying constantly. It just makes me feel a little sad, a little empty, and a little reflective."
s_1673_364,"My mom had the second of our cats declawed when we spayed her (3-4 months old? Not sure, she was a stray, but she was under a year). We got lucky and she still loves us but my mom regrets it and won't do it to any other of our cats. She's a very sweet cat and we spoil the shit out of her. Though, I do feel bad every time i think about what we did to her. Through a remarriage my family now has 5 cats (used to be 6 :C), and the declawed one isn't even on the bottom wrung of the totem pole. She can't fight back as well but if she's attacked she'll make the most godawful noises, so the others tend to leave her alone. I guess what i'm getting at is that even if you're lucky and it works out like my cat, it's still a horrible thing to do and if you empathize with your pets at all, you should avoid it."
s_2495_165,"Is there a way to dream less? I have extremely vivid and lucid dreams every night. Even though I go to bed early and sleep deeply through the entire night, I wake up exhausted, remembering every single dream in detail. It's gotten to the point where I have issues telling my dreams and real memories apart. I just want a good night's sleep."
s_1692_70,"Just Deserts Bakery: We hope you enjoy your Just Deserts! Who would have thought you could be afraid of something as sweet and innocent as cake? I didn't think it possible, until I broke up with my boyfriend last month. Id endured months of emotional and psychological abuse before I finally mustered up the courage to leave him. In the weeks following our break-up, I started receiving threatening cakes, each with a message more disturbing than the next. Now, I'm sitting in a hospital bed, terrified of what the latest cake had to say. Looking back, I'm not sure what I saw in Brad. At a bar, I overheard him ranting about the women hed slept with. He acted crudely, catcalling the waitresses and starring at the butt of any lady who dared walk in his line of vision. Judging purely by the pick-up lines he used and what little conversation I could hear, it was clear that he was no stranger to using foul language to speak to and about women. I know what it sounds like; you probably think I was a nave young woman who thought I could fix the proverbial bad boy. My attraction to him if you can call it that had nothing to do with such a childish thing. No, I wanted to beat him. I wanted to be the one that got away. The woman he thought he could woo, but who wouldn't give it to him no matter how much he begged. I wanted to take a stand on behalf of all the women hed wronged, and show him how much backbone the fairer sex really had. He was my opponent. A simple wink and a wave was all it took to get his attention. He sent a drink my way, quietly approached, placed a hand on my shoulder, and leaned in to whisper a pick-up line so lewd and disrespectful, I dare not repeat it. I forced a giggle and playfully nudged him. My trap was set. The problem is, I was the one who ended up ensnared. It turned out that, after you got past the absolutely disgusting first layer of his personality, he was rather charming. One thing led to another, and we started dating. Before I even knew what had happened, we had moved in together. Thats when the abuse started. It was little things, at first. Accusing me of looking at other men, checking my text messages, telling me my clothes were too slutty, etc. There were so many signs I should have seen, but hindsight is 20/20. It wasn't as though it happened overnight. Brad progressively chipped away at my ego until I felt like a failure as a woman. I was afraid of living without him. He had me convinced that no man would ever want someone like me. Every time we fought, hed reel me back in with a grand gesture of some sort, and promises he never intended to keep. Then, one day, we got into a huge argument over one of my co-workers. As usual, he called me every name in the book: slut, whore, skank nothing was off-limits. Dishes were broken, holes were punched in the wall, and things were thrown. The situation took a drastic turn for the worst when Brad lifted his arm and backhanded me hard across the face. I fearfully retaliated by biting him, and ran out the door while he shrieked in pain. The first time he hit me was going to be the last. I stayed at my mothers house for a few days while I tried to get my head back on straight. Id left everything behind: my money, ID, clothes, and even my phone. Fearing Brads wrath, I steered clear of our shared apartment until I was certain he was at work. Even then, I asked for a police escort in case he showed up. Judging by the fact that he hadn't thrown away my belongings, I deduced that he thought I was cooling off and would come crawling back to him any day now. He was dead wrong. While the officers waited patiently at the door, I took the essentials, leaving my furniture, decorations, and cookware behind. I wanted a fresh start, even if it meant having to re-purchase household staples. Before long, I was moving into a fabulous new apartment across town. Rent was fair, the neighbors weren't snoopy, it was closer to my workplace, and, best of all, there were no memories of my ex. None of his toenail clippings, body spray, or stupid NFL memorabilia. I felt fortunate in my misfortune: starting over wasn't easy, but it was exactly what I needed. ***
Id just gotten settled for the evening, when the doorbell rang. The hallway was empty, but there was something waiting for me on the doormat: a plain white box without any identifying features, tied with a curled pink ribbon. I picked it up and brought it to the kitchen, examining it closely. Using a knife, I cut off the ribbons and opened the box. Inside was a vanilla cake with lavender-colored buttercream icing. Square in the middle of it was something written in dark purple script:
Welcome Karen!!! For a split second, I thought it might have been from a neighbor. No, that couldn't be it. I hadn't had the chance to introduce myself yet. Besides, if the idea was to welcome me to the neighborhood, then surely they would have waited for me to answer the door so we could chat. Had my mom sent it? It wasn't really her style, so I called her, and she denied having knowledge of it. Perplexed, I searched the box for any clue, and found a business card for *Just Deserts Bakery*. On it was a ten-digit code, an address, and a phone number. I felt a pang of worry in my chest. What if Brad had sent the cake? Id been careful not to share my new address with anyone, but what if hed been following me? Anxiety began to bubble inside like the magma in a slumbering volcano. Nervously, I dialed the number listed on the business card to get some answers. Once the call connected, a playful jingle tickled my ears. It was followed by what sounded like a grown woman talking in an obnoxious baby voice. You know, like on those kiddie shows where the host talks to kids? Welcome to Just Deserts Bakery! We hope you enjoy your Just Deserts! The tagline made me cringe. Were sorry, but our store is closed right now. If you want to check the status of your order, type the 10-digit order number followed by the pound key, she continued, her voice still as annoyingly energetic. I typed the order number on my card, heart racing. * Please not Brad, please not Brad, please not Brad*, I repeated in my head. There was a slight pause on the line, and then the voice spoke again, Looks like you received our Super-Duper Vanilla Surprise, courtesy of- it began, but the sing-song tone was replaced by an ear-piercing robotic voice, anonymous. *Well, that doesn't help me*, I thought, biting my fingernails as I nervously paced back and forth. I hated to let good food go to waste, but I was smart enough not to eat something that, as far as I knew, could have been laced with rat poison. If the sender eventually revealed himself as someone other than Brad, then I would lie through my teeth and tell them I loved the cake. If it was from Brad, then I was definitely not eating it, whether or not it hed sabotaged it. For my own peace of mind, I tossed the cake in the garbage bin, and went to bed. I woke up the next morning feeling rejuvenated. As I walked through the kitchen, I could smell the sweet scent of cake rising from my garbage can, reminding me of my woes. * Brad knows where I live*, I worried. I went about my day, trying not to think about him. It was *my* life and *I* was in control. I didn't want to be a slave to his abuse any more, yet it was hard to stop hearing his disapproving words whispered in the back of my mind. * Youre not good enough. Youre a bitch. Button your top, you whore.* I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to keep my head held high. Another package was waiting for me when I got home. Same white box, same pink ribbon. Enjoy your Just Deserts! it read, same as the bakerys motto. The cake was different this time. Chocolate with cherry icing, or so the *Just Deserts Bakery* hotline claimed, when I called to check the order. I was surprised that they were still closed, but not shocked to find out that the order was sent anonymously. Chocolate was my favorite, so throwing *that* cake out was more painful than the first. Still, my safety was far more important. The following day, another cake found its way onto my welcome mat. I didn't even have time to debate whether or not I should throw it out, because when I opened it, the message inside frightened me so much that the box slipped through my fingers, and the cake splattered onto the floor. I'm going to slice you up like a birthday cake. It was Brad. It *had* to be Brad. He was fucking with me, like the scumbag that he was. I called the bakery, but still couldn't get through to a human being. Like clockwork, another package showed up on my doorstep the following day. This time, it contained four cupcakes, each with a different letter written in bold. S-L-U-T
Lovely. The next day at work, I called the bakery. I figured they closed early, and that Id be able to catch them during normal business hours. I had a hunch theyd refuse to reveal the name of the sender not that it wasnt blatantly obvious but I would made damn sure theyd ban my address from future deliveries. Hopefully, Brad would get the message and move on. Welcome to Just Deserts Bakery! We hope you enjoy your Just Deserts! Were sorry, but our store is closed right-
Fuck! I shouted, tossing the phone aside. That night, I had a date with an old friend from college. We had a pretty great time, and I ended up staying over at his place. When I tried to sneak out the next morning, I nearly tripped over a box on his front steps. * No way*, I thought. My hands shakily pulled the ribbons loose, and I peered inside. Twinkle twinkle little whore, shut your legs, theyre not a door. I recoiled in terror. Brad was *stalking* me. The abuse didn't let up. Every day, Id get home and another cake was waiting for me. Every damn day. If he knew where I lived and if he was following me around, why hadn't he shown his face yet? Was he trying to torture me? Slowly drive me insane? He must have spent a fortune buying all those cakes, and for what? To scare me? If that was his intention, then it was working splendidly. I was terrified, looking over my shoulder and through my blinds every few minutes. Scared of every shadow I saw and every headlight in the window. It was only a matter of time before he made his move. Every day, Id get another horrible message. Fuck you, bitch, Good riddance, and my personal favorite, This is poisoned. * Subtle, Brad. Real Subtle*, I thought. I tried calling *Just Deserts Bakery* at various times of day, but no one ever answered. Why did I even bother opening the boxes? I knew there was nothing good inside, just more abuse. More *Brad*. The scent of sugar infiltrated every corner of my apartment. I was sick of the odor. It was on and around me at all times. Even at work, I swear I could smell it. ***
Out of the blue one day, I got home and my welcome mat was empty. Relieved, I headed inside and relaxed for the first time in weeks. Maybe Brad had found a new plaything. I felt bad for whoever had to deal with him, but glad that he wasn't my problem anymore. I slept like a baby that night. That is, until a familiar scent woke me up in the early hours of the night. My alarm clock read 3:57 a.m., its dim red light illuminating something large sitting on my bedside table. I squinted, my blurry eyes making out the outline of a white box. * Oh god, no*, I thought. I jolted to my feet, and turned on the lamp. Hed been inside my home. The message on the cake wasn't as rude as the others, yet it was somehow more unsettling than the profanity Id grown accustom to. Youre beautiful when you sleep. It was time to take matters into my own hands. I had the bakerys address, so I decided to head there right away. After all, bakeries were supposed to open early, right? Someone was bound to be at the store. I would explain my situation and, if they refused to cooperate, would threaten to involve police. Surely, they could get a warrant to figure out who was sending the cakes. I could have Brad arrested for harassment. I felt elated at the thought of finally being free. The law was on my side, after all. It must have been around 5:00 a.m. when I pulled into the empty strip mall outside of town. My face twisted as I noticed the condition the building was in. It was in complete disrepair: walls had crumbled, the foundation was cracked, windows were broken, and store signs had faded away. * Just Deserts Bakery*, if it had *ever* been in the strip mall, was long gone. I couldn't even find a semblance of their logo on any of the store-fronts. When I got out of my car to peer into the broken building, all I could see were remnants of clothing stores and a bowling alley. There was nothing even remotely resembling a bakery. Defeated, I headed back to my car. My heart sank as I opened the door. The sweet scent of cake came pouring out of the vehicle, emanating from a cake on the passengers seat. Die, bitch. My eyes scanned the area quickly, but I couldn't see Brad. Was he hiding in the back seat? I hadn't heard footsteps, but I wasn't really paying attention before. For a moment, I thought about hiding in the abandoned mall, but what if Brad was waiting inside to jump me? I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I backed away from my car, whimpering like a child, and called the cops. I waited for ten whole minutes in the exposed lot, halfway between my vehicle and the building. If he was in the strip mall, then I would have time to flee to my car. If he was in my car, then I would have a head start when running away. By the time the police arrived, I was feeling really light-headed. I think I was tiptoeing on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. The officers let me sit in their squad car while they checked every nook and cranny of my automobile. I watched nervously, expecting Brad to jump out at them with a knife. Thankfully, the car was empty. Once theyd deemed the area secure, one of the officers took me aside while the other contacted the station to put an APB out on Brad. I was relieved to see them take the death threat so seriously. The officer listened as I told him about the break-up, the harassing cakes Id been receiving since, and the break-in that morning. He retrieved the bakerys business card from the cake, which, by that point, was melting on the hood of my car. He gave the number a call. Says it isn't valid, he told me. Thats not possible, I replied. I tried calling *Just Deserts Bakery* using my own phone. By then, I had their number on speed dial, since I called them more often than I called my mom. Sure enough, an operator told me the number was no longer in service. I became even more agitated. Brad had gone through an obscene amount of trouble to mess with me, it seemed. After about ten minutes, the second officer interrupted, Mam, he said, tilting his head. Still shaking, I nodded, Y-yes? You say youre being stalked by Brad Clarkson, right? I nodded again, Yeah
He frowned, We have a report that he committed suicide, mam. Blood drained from my face. Had he run off into traffic after putting the cake in my car? The hairs on the back of my neck rose like soldiers at attention. As disturbing as the revelation was, at least it meant I was safe now. I wouldn't have to endure his harassment anymore. It was a bittersweet feeling, but I didn't want to celebrate too much. The last thing I needed was to arouse suspicion. If anyone had motive to murder Brad and make it look like suicide, it was me. Okay, I answered, H-how? He turned around, exchanging a few words with the station, Gas from the oven. Its just like going to sleep, he answered. I raised a brow. Something wasn't adding up. Brad lived an hour away from the strip mall. How could he have dropped the cake off, driven home, killed himself, been found dead, AND had a report filed about it? There has to be a mistake. He was here an hour ago, I protested. The mans lips wrinkled into an awkward frown, I'm sorry mam, but hes been dead for a month, he said. *Thats impossible*, I thought, turning to the cake. My head was spinning. If it wasn't Brad who had been sending me these cakes, then who was it? I felt my breathing accelerate beyond control as a burning sensation ran down my spine. Listen, mam, well get an undercover cop in your area, all right? suggested one of the officers, Well catch whoevers doing this. I nodded nervously. ***
I felt more comfortable knowing someone was outside watching out for me, but my relief was short lived. The cakes stopped showing up at my home, but that didn't mean they wouldn't find their way to me one way or another. During lunch one day, I heard my co-workers laughing wildly. Whats so funny? One of them pointed to a birthday cake on the lunchroom table. Go ahead, eat some, fatass, it read. I spotted the *Just Deserts Bakery* business card from a mile away, and quickly swatted a spoon out of a co-workers hand before he could take a bite. My colleagues looked at me as though I was losing my mind, but I didn't want any harm to come to them. I gathered the pieces of cake that had already been served, tossing them furiously in the trash bin, before doing the same with the cake. When I tried to explain myself, my co-workers refused to listen to me. One of them implied that I was being moody because of my cycle. Sobbing, I drove home in a car that stunk of sugar. The scent made me nauseous. I could practically taste it now. If I wasn't already crying, the smell alone would have made my eyes water. I rolled down the windows, but it barely made a difference. By the time I got home, I had convinced myself to take the bus for a few days, just so I could get away from the stench. ***
Rain. I remember waking up to rain. My nostrils were pleased with the odor of wet pavement and squashed worms. I waited in the bus shelter, my legs swinging back and forth as I inhaled the natural aroma of soggy grass. My eyes closed for just a moment. A fleeting second, but as soon as they did, the humid air took on a completely different smell. It was like getting smothered by a box of cupcakes. My head slowly turned to the seat on my right. There it was. Get well soon, Karen. I whined and jumped to my feet, backing away from the dessert that was haunting me. In a frenzy, I failed to notice when my heel caught a crack in the sidewalk. I felt my body falling and heard the screech of tires. The world went black. This morning, I woke up in a hospital room, surrounded by balloons and an array of beautiful flowers. I couldn't smell them over the stench of sugar that permeated my nostrils. There was a white box with pink curly ribbons waiting for me on the bedside table. Scrawled on the lavender-colored cake, in familiar dark purple script, were the words:
Enjoy your last meal. nbsp;
[x](<URL>)"
s_2338_1076,"Finally feeling better. The past month I've been in the biggest depressive state I can remember. My sleep schedule had been from 6am - 4pm daily, my Zoloft wasn't working, and I barely left my bed. I wouldn't leave my apartment for days on end and when I did, it was to go get M Ms and drown my sorrows in junk food. Two days ago I decided enough was enough. I started taking my Adderall again, and I've gone for 3 mile walks every morning. My sleep schedule is closer to normal now, and I have an interview today. I hope this serves as encouragement for someone out there feeling as hopeless as I did. Seriously, get off your ass and go for a walk, even if it's just 10 minutes. Download a podcast (I recommend Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me, it's pretty funny) and just stroll. It's amazing how depressing sitting in front of a computer/TV all day can be."
s_2139_3,"I am same as you. I have a great family, good friends, I am Christian so I have God. Yet I am depressed. I used to think the same way like how could I be depressed. But depression doesnt care about that. Celebrities with more money than most people and fame have been depressed and took their lives. Parents with children have been depressed. Depression will attack whoever it wants. So its not about how could I be or this doesnt make sense, its just an illness that you have. Its not your fault at all. Never blame yourself"
s_984_839,"What inspires me? Jeez, I didn't think I'd have to be thinking so deep tonight! I feel like a self-motivated and self-made person most of the time, though I've started to learn that this concept doesn't exist. I am who I am and do what I do because of the people around me. My environment is responsible for who I am, even though I feel like I'm always fighting my fight alone (and I'm content with that). When I think of the people who inspire me, I can only think of people on the other side of the screen. There's my childhood best friend who I haven't seen in person for years, who inspires me every day because he's still my best friend (love is a powerful thing). Then I have my role models who inspire me. They're not people who I want to be just like as much as they're people who I respect and have learned from. They range from Markiplier to Conor McGregor to our very own Max Caulfield. I'm inspired by the adversity these people have overcome and what they stand for. They all inspire me to be a better person, to work harder, to love, and to be myself. When I think of my friends, I think of my best friend and Markiplier and Greg Miller and Chloe Price. They're always there for me in my mind. But most of all I find inspiration and motivation in the horizon. I believe every single one of us has unlimited potential. I'm always looking beyond, dreaming of doing awesome things and *knowing* that one day I will make my dreams into reality. The prospect of the future inspires me. Anyways, that's a look inside my mind. Hopefully that's enough good feels for ya OP :)"
s_2415_194,"Hurts to see everyone happy but me? I have guests at my house and it's a good environment. My brother is upbeat and my cousin feels okay. I feel depressed, worthless and pathetic. I fucking hate it. Everyone thinks I am a cynical person. A pessimist. A quiet person who is boring to be around. A person who is mute most of the time. A pathetic excuse of a human being. I can feel the awkwardness when I am out with cousins and my brother is not around. He's the multi-talented, entertaining guy everyone wants to be around. I am the mood-killer. I always feel as if nobody wants me around. No matter how much they'll tell me that it's okay I can't help but feel they don't want me around. I am mentally exhausted. I just don't want to exist. I don't want to die...I just don't want to exist."
s_1732_11,"When I first started taking prazosin I noticed it would affect me quite similarly. I had a hard time standing and would fall over. I spoke to my psychiatrist about this and she suggested I take it sooner to the time I go to bed to get adjusted to it. That helped a lot. I started taking it when I knew I wasnt going to be moving around and could just lay in bed and fall asleep. As far as remove my dreaming is has never done that. What it has done for me is make my nights tolerable to get through. I dont wake up in panic, sweating, trying to catch my breathe multiple times throughout the night. I can get a solid 5-6 hours of uninterrupted sleep now which I havent had for years. Ask your doctor first and you may have to get some tests before hand but adding in more salt to your diet can help with the affects of low blood pressure, but again Im not a doctor so ask your doctor. I hope prazosin can work for you."
s_3002_125,"This post is more located here for the fact I can't put it in a place people know me because it would be rude and against guidelines. I've posted here before, I've given up before, and I find no guarantee I will kill myself today, but I sure really want to and will think of a way to. I don't find hooe in the world, as I'm lonely and destructive in friendships, and most people end up hating me. I'm sorry to all those that I hurt, especially her, and I'm sorry that I was such a stupid ugly person that only annoyed others. I'm sorry."
s_1749_691,"People talking. Especially when it is completely unnecessary information. Or some stupid conversation that other people are having while they find it appropriate to be loud enough that no one around can miss any of the story. Then there's people like my mother (who I love dearly) that will turn a simple question into an essay by rephrasing it six times so you have to answer it over and over. Fuck, I need quiet. I am such an irritable dick."
s_2908_105,Currently? None since it's Saturday. But I did wake up at 7am. So I'm pretty tired.
s_1625_297,"Every morning I convince myself to stay strong, get out of bed, and live through another meaningless day. Every night I cry before I fall asleep. I am grateful for the comforts I have--I can be depressed in a safe place with enough food and comfort--yet I do not mind, at all, that I should be gone in about 20 years, given the average life span of my relatives and my own age."
s_2647_24,"I wouldn't. I'd kill myself. A world war with the technology we have will most likely annihilate the human race - international biological warfare and nuclear warfare is enough to quickly weaken and destroy entire nations. During the war, all the knowledge we've come to know will be lost, and all scientific discovery will be geared towards the war effort. I don't see the point in living through it. Then again, some people might just survive in the aftermath - but it will take centuries to recover to present day conditions once more."
s_1551_97,"Trying to force my workout today from just completely not having the mental energy yesterday and wasting it, but I feel so weak and worn down and I dont know why. Its frustrating, I think that weak worn down feeling is what made me just not want to get off my ass yesterday. Ive made ample progress lately but because I was sedentary for a few days, or maybe overtrained? Though I dont feel like I was anywhere close to overtraining. I just feel so worthless and pathetic all of a sudden"
s_752_30,I relate to this. Except I have no one I could ask to hit me unfortunately so I would have to start a fight. I punch my legs constantly though. They're always all bruised up. Sometimes ill hit my face or head too. Had to go to the hospital for it once. Oh well fuck it I hate myself.
s_1578_1861,I don't want to live in this world anymore.
s_716_38,"I regret isolating myself from my peers, and not even taking any part in extracurriculars. Most of the time, I literally went to school and went home to get on the internet, and stayed in my room. Originally, I was very socially awkward due mostly because of my terrible home life, but was still very sociable. Just annoying, though. 7th grade was a terrible year, it was my first year at the junior high, and I was quickly learning how cruel other kids could be. I mean I was annoying, I deserved some of the hate I got, but there were some things that happened that were practically unwarranted. It was around that time that I moved to my grandparent's house to get away from my homelife abuse, and it just came to me that I was tired of other people. So very, very tired. My self esteem was in the pits. I was tired of being the subject of ridicule, of being a psychological punching bag of my peers and family. And I knew it had to do with the fact that I was hopeless at social interaction. I don't know what happened, but it was like some part of my brain just... slowed to a stop when I realized just how shitty everything was. Some part of me broke, I think. I stopped interacting with my peers mostly. I spent a lot of time studying. I pretty much only spoke when I had something witty to say. Soon... people started liking me. My only friend year later told me that someone from one of my classes told her, ""test_subject3112 used to be really weird, but she's cool now"". That's right, I was cool because I wasn't an annoying shit anymore and just shut up. Because of my bad self esteem, this pretty much only reinforced my behavior. While I did learn a great amount of patience from my actions, it is terribly regrettable. I developed severe social anxiety because I have worried so much about making myself presentable to others. I kept silent, I figured shutting up and being obedient and staying out of others way was the best and easiest way to coast through school. Now it is difficult to be employed, to leave my house, to make friends. I am anxious much of the time. I quit my last job due to a panic attack. Apathy has encroached on every aspect of my life. My therapist actually told me my depression is worse than my anxiety. At the time this all started, I could hardly cope with the stress. I'm thinking it is probably a combination of school and home pressure that caused me to break and retreat within myself. I greatly fear rejection. People tell me not to care about what others think, but I have realized from so many years of being alone that people are a part of our lives whether we want them there or not."
s_1259_115,"I'm an angry person on the internet. But I love people irl, and treat people for a living. I have to vent out my frustraition on the internet, to remain sane from all the problems that people talk about."
s_1681_799,Cake shared a picture of Wilder waving bye from Young Frankenstein earlier. I didn't know what in was in reference to. Now I am sad.
s_1404_1006,"Due to my bad health I need about 10-12 hours of sleep per night. The rest of the day is eating, traveling 2 hours to my university, homework. Nothing else."
s_993_943,I am on Wellbutrin and Latuda. Latuda is supposed to give me clarity of thought improve mood etc. I don't know if it's doing that. I stopped taking meds a while ago and went into depression for 2 months...this is me coming out of it. Now instead of suicidal thoughts I am obsessing over something else. Also I do have some energy now.
s_2928_277,Allowing myself to become addicted to food
s_1404_822,"How can I get dates while I have a busy career? Dating apps take too much time. I can swipe 100 hours and get only 1 match who ignores my message. Real life takes too much time. I don't have time to to out in social settings. The only place I go to is university and my class only has 5 girls, who are not my type. I'm busy with university 24 / 7 and no i can't spend less time on it because im already far behind with my homeworks. After uni, I will either have to find a job or start my own business which is also gonna take me alot of effort and time. How do you guys do this? I think I will never have time to try getting dates, but I want a girlfriend. note: im not a social guy at all. I have autism and my social skills are very bad. I also have no energy and time to go out. How can I get dates if im always busy? How long should I wait / When is the best time to start trying to get dates again?"
s_1514_933,"The Demon Without A Name [1: The Angel Without A Face](<URL>)
---
Cellphone records. That must have been what did me in. They would have first looked for any large financial transactions, and that would have singled me out for the sales of computer gear - and then my cellphone records would have confirmed my location at the time of what must have looked like a senseless murder and arson. They didn't tell me any of this, but I knew cellphone records making that the second time my cellphone has betrayed me a part of me feels bitter, and questions my reasons for carrying a sophisticated computer with me everywhere I go but mostly I continue staring at the blank wall opposite my chair in the interrogation room. I know my manner disturbed them. They asked me hostile questions. They towered over me. They presented me with *the facts, goddamnit,* but I could only laugh. I know what they do not know, and the Truth makes their petty threats - indeed, their very existence - irrelevant. I remained resolved to emptiness until the moment I noticed that *he* was standing in the room with me. Leaning against the wide white wall to my left, he stood out in stark black contrast, the lines of his suit clashing with the blankness of the room. Part of me spun into confusion over the nature of his entrance and how I'd somehow missed it, but I only turned my head and looked him in the eyes. Those pale blue eyes seemed to penetrate my barriers and see completely through me. They contained no caring, no empathy, and no morality - only calculation. He bore a perfectly composed smile that somehow lacked a genuine core in a way I'd never quite encountered. I didn't waste time asking him who he was. His entire demeanor screamed distance; this was a personality so far removed from the mundane and tired law enforcement officials I'd thus far interacted with, that to question him was to insultingly feign ignorance. He would see right through that, and he knew that I knew that. No, instead of asking him who he was, I asked him a very close but ultimately different question. "" What do you want?"" At my acknowledgement of the unspoken layers of strangeness between us, he widened his smile a few millimeters, like an engineer adjusting a mechanism. "" It was a valiant attempt. It's not often that everyday normal young men have a chance to step up but you did. That's worthy of note."" I didn't bother asking how he knew. He would never give me an answer. "" It didn't work."" ""They think -"" he glanced at the door to the interrogation room, indicating the men and women in the rest of the station. ""- that you murdered an old man, and burned down his church, when your demands for more money weren't met. That's fairly laughable for your type of personality, isn't it? No, see, when you were eight, one of your friends found a wounded dog and began to torture it for fun you ran away rather than join in. You've never told anyone, because you're still ashamed that you didn't stop him. Such empathy doesn't have a strong intersection with psychotic violence. I just don't see it in you."" I narrowed my eyes, and modified my initial skipped question. "" What are you?"" He dropped his arms, maintained his smile, and began walking a circle around the edge of the room. "" Ah, so it's true. Your choice to use the word *what* implies you've recently dealt with something not necessarily human. You're not only open to the possibility, you're convinced."" He nodded brightly. "" Sure, I'll play into that."" He reached forward, grabbed me roughly by the arm, and pulled me toward the door. A single knock brought a uniformed officer over. ""Uncuff him,"" my visitor ordered. "" He's not a terrorist. He's just some kid."" Minutes later, I hit sunlight, and winced. The rough hand still clamped around my arm pulled me toward a black car, and, lacking any particular direction of my own, I followed his implicit instructions and climbed into the passenger seat. He took a measured walk around the car, opened the driver-side door, and took a seat with a calm attitude. He no longer bore a smile. He turned those pale blue eyes on me. "" Most people never get direct interaction. You're very lucky, from a certain point of view."" I tensed up. "" What did you just say?"" ""Do you want to help clean up this mess?"" ""It's too late,"" I responded, pained by the coiled dread that had been squeezing my heart for the last few days. "" It's out there."" He curled up one corner of his lip into an approximation of a smirk. "" The Internet isn't like the movies. A malevolent program can't simply access any system it wishes. Whatever the *hell* it is that you uploaded from your cellphone, it had to follow a very carefully chosen and unguarded path."" Simultaneously shot through with terror and bolstered wholly by hope at his inexplicable knowledge, I sat taller in my seat. ""* You know where it is?*"" ""Tell me what it is,"" he countered coldly. "" It defies analysis."" I glanced quickly around the windows, making sure nobody was nearby, even though none of the passersby on the sidewalk could hear us. In some fashion, I still didn't quite believe any of it myself, despite having been granted the Truth. In this context, I was aware I still sounded slightly insane. "" It's an angel."" For the first time, he displayed negative emotion, his head sharply tilting toward me - his smirk gone. "" Did it say that? Did it use that word, specifically?"" I fired back with all my sincerity and intensity. ""* That's what I asked, too.*"" He turned forward and started the car, his jaw set. "" If you're lying, we can annihilate you."" Pulling on my seat belt, I shook my head. "" I'm not lying! And besides, you cannot possibly inflict worse than the fate that *thing* wants to bring here."" ""Oh, we won't touch you,"" he promised, taking a right turn. "" Our punishment is far worse than that. Your friends will turn away from you in disgust. Your family will disown you. Your community will revile you. Your past victories will become sickening defeats. You will, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist - solely at our whim. The worst part is that you must go on, homeless, outcast, and hated, fully aware of what has been taken from you."" I gripped my seat belt against my chest. "" I'm not lying, I swear."" What *was* this man? What was he a part of, that could possibly have that much power? If I'd met an angel, and discovered all the horrific anti-fulfillment of that Biblical promise, was this a demon? My inner self immediately identified with that ancient and ancestral terror. And yet I wasn't ready to give up that slight sliver of hope. "" Do you know where it is?"" ""We're going there now,"" he replied, his tone grim, his eyes on the road ahead. "" We're going to put a stop to this before it goes any further."" While driving, he turned his piercing eyes on me. "" Are you on board with that?"" ""Yes,"" I responded quickly, alive with energy. Was it possible? Could I hold off the Truth a little longer? Every moment alive and breathing was another moment free of that nightmare of nightmares. "" He lowered his voice, his tone almost carrying a hint of human compassion. "" What did it say to you?"" Breathing harder, trying to keep my sense of self coherent, I said nothing. He reached into a compartment and pulled out a handkerchief. "" You've got something""
I took it and wiped at slight traces of moisture under my nose and along my left eye. The fabric came away stained red. "" I'm trying not to think about it."" He took the handkerchief back with a grim expression, and said nothing further. The better part of an hour later, we pulled into a large parking lot that I vaguely recognized. "" The university?"" ""It didn't go very far,"" he stated. "" It jumped a few cellphones, and one unsecured weather monitoring system. Tell me, what is it doing here?"" I thought for a moment before the realization hit me. "" A physics lab. It wants someone to build specific equipment for it. It wants to"" I lowered my head, fighting a deep, pounding, animalistic pain at the mere glancing thought of what it intended to bring. He got out. "" I whimpered. He came around the car, opened my door, and roughly grabbed me. "" Maybe I'll send a list of your porn habits to your mother,"" he threatened. ""Asshole!"" I responded automatically, confused by the surprisingly mundane but rude nature of the suggestion - but I did disembark and follow him. I guided him to the Physics Building where I'd taken classes several years ago. Long, four stories high, and rectangular, the brown-brick edifice sat dim and glowering against the heat and summer sun. Honestly, the first time I'd seen it, I thought of it as a place where hopes go to die - and that assessment, although less humorous now, hadn't changed. An older man in a suit and a security guard stood outside. ""Sorry,"" the older man said, coming between us. "" We've got some important proceedings going on inside."" My dark companion moved to within an inch of the other man's face. "" And you are?"" ""Um, the Dean of Students, -""
""Ah, I know who you are,"" he interrupted. "" We've been watching *you* for quite some time. You'll get out of my way, or we'll tell your wife about that young student you're on about these days. I can practically smell the chemicals churning in your body - the hormones, and pheromones. You stink of adultery."" The older man backed away, his eyes wide. The security guard stepped forward. "" Sir, is everything alright here?"" My dark companion towered another inch taller. "" Move, or I will *erase you.*"" ""Let them in,"" the Dean said hurriedly, pulling the guard back. Once inside the long yellowed hallways of the Physics Building, I stopped walking. "" How did you do that?"" He turned his pale blue eyes on me. "" We know everything."" ""Who is we?"" I demanded. "" You keep saying *I* and *we* interchangeably. I don't see anyone else here! And you certainly don't mean me."" ""Politicians, presidents, and kings move at our whim,"" he replied, vehement. "" You have *no leverage* in the face of our power. Start walking."" I took a gulp and a deep breath. "" I don't see a gun."" ""We don't need guns. The world runs on information, *boy.* I've already told you what we can do to you."" Despite myself, I began laughing loudly. That seemed to unnerve him more than any other reaction. "" Information won't save you,"" I forced out, bending into a deep belly laugh. I could feel slick, warm, red tears slipping out at the corners of my eyes. "" I'm not a terrorist,"" I laughed. "" The priest wasn't a terrorist."" I shook with humor. "" I'm not insane!"" ""Terrorists?"" he shot back. "" We don't give a shit about terrorists. It's about *control,* and you or that priest made something we can't control, and we're going to destroy it here and now. We run the world, *you* do what we say, and that's the final word."" My belly laugh grew deeper, and I felt slightly in danger of asphyxiating. ""Stop laughing!"" he shouted, his steely demeanor finally cracking. The act occurred to me even as I began to hear a humming sound emanating from every direction. Rushing forward from my bent position, I rammed my shoulder into his chest. Caught off guard, he tried to spin me, but failed. A heartbeat later, we crashed into the opposite brick wall, and he crumpled his head leaking dark red fluid. It was that simple. I stared down at his body, wondering at the weakness of flesh. A demon, brought low by a simple blow to the head
I wiped blood from my eyes, still laughing for reasons beyond my own comprehension. Pawing at his dying pile of meat, I found his wallet and flipped it open. My laughter deepened. ""Worse than a demon"" I choked out, fighting a painful smile, hopeful that he could hear me. "" Worse than a demon one of us, willing to act like a demon against your own kind so much power, so much knowledge, and yet still so sadly limited and wrong in your point of view""
I dropped his wallet, and the card and badge that identified him as a member of the National Security Agency the NSA the omnipresent eyes and ears that could trace a malevolent AI with calculating thoroughness, if not with understanding. That made a third time my cellphone had betrayed me, and my computer, too, sending every single thing I'd ever said or written into the hands of men that had become less than human. I took a moment to pick his head up slightly and ram it once more into brick. My laughter faded as I felt myself become truly alone in the halls. The humming sound had grown louder now, and I felt slight vibrations in the smooth tiled floor under my bloodied hands. To my right, the Dean and the security guard we'd left behind hammered at the glass doors to the building. They'd seen everything - but they seemed more concerned with the rising crescendo of terror filling the building and emanating out through its foundations. ""Nothing is as it seems,"" I told myself, thinking back on the anything-but angel and looking down at the wholly human demon lying dead before me. "" Nothing as it seems""
Laughing intermittently for some reason, I stumbled to my feet and travelled the opposite direction from the humming. Simple effective a pebble in a bolt a wrench in the works I swung open a dusty metal panel and flipped every switch. A wall of darkness surged through the hallway, and I fell to the floor. Whether it was weakness real or imagined, I remained on that floor for an interminable time but the humming had departed. This was by no means a permanent victory, I knew. Parts of me urged my body to rise, and those same parts of me pushed me on, making me stumble through darkened hallways until I found the Sun once more. Freedom and light freedom and light still there
For just a little while longer
---
[3: The Living Murdered](<URL>)"
s_1404_1422,"How can I socialize while I don't like most people because they are too different? For example my class. I'm 22 years old and people of my age have other interests. Most people my age have these interests below, which I don't have. social life 3. drinking 4. moving out of parents house while my interests are completely different 1. sleeping 3. want a girlfriend but not friends I don't seem to have any interest that any normal person of my age has. How can I socialize with people of my age if they are too different and don't share any interests with me? I'm mainly asking this because I want a girlfriend and in order to meet girls I need to be social. But I dont like most people and their interests!"
s_2255_242,I sleep good. When I used to sleep sober I'd hum the cat-dog cartoon song to sleep
s_3040_931,"Fuck everything, drunk feels better So, long story short, I make really idiotic decisions when it comes to boys. I got played like a card by this guy for six months and all I have to show for it is a diagnosis of major depressive disorder and a short hospital stay. I decided it was a great idea to Facebook stalk him for a little bit tonight, and I ended up bawling my eyes out, just like every time I see or think about him too much. I know that drinking my problems away will be bad in the long run, but tonight I'm killing what's left of a fifth of Captain and realizing that his new girlfriend is probably smart and funny and everything I'm not, but still holding onto the fact that she makes Sarah Jessica Parker look like she doesn't have a horsr face. Tl;dr: fuck boys, fuck Facebook, and fuck ugly bitches."
s_3075_23,"Feeling angry and very upset I've been friends with these two friends since grade 5 and were out of high school for the past 2 years anyway, they all decided to hang out tonight than pretend to message me from one snapchat account trying to get information from me and read it outloud to everyone in the room. It just made me upset like why cant they just message me if they want to talk, they're always fake and act like it's the first time talking to me. I just feel alone. Nothing feels real anymore"
s_2832_893,"Oh sweet boy. Youre going to be ok. You arent crazy. Your brain just has some trouble with producing the right chemicals to keep you balanced. If the psychologist is correct and you have bpd, medication is going to help you. I have an anxiety disorder. Im so irritable and feel like I need to scratch my skin off when Im not medicated. I feel absolutely crazy and out of control. With meds, the irritation and constant buzz and talking in my brain shuts up. Its like going from a cloudy, dark, overcast day to a lovely summer one. You need to find medication that works for you, that will balance you out. You will feel so much calmer and better. Living a lovely life is totally within your reach."
s_3002_87,"I just, feel so useless, that I'm not really good or even decent at anything, that I'm just shit at everything and only hurt people :/"
s_1404_865,should I tell classmates about my depression? I work in a small group of 3 and ofcourse they expect me to do my part of the assignments. but due to my depression and low energy i'm unable to get a decent amount of work done. I should tell them about my depression so they will understand but im afraid they will think I'm an attention seeker or something. Is it appropriate to tell them about my depression?
s_1776_42,"I feel guilty because I have had nothing in my life was truly traumatic (though my bio dad did stop contact with me when I was 9) or horrifying in my life to make me feel this way. I also have nothing to be sad for. I am university, have enough money and then some to get by and live a 'decent' life. So why do I feel like I hate my life that I'd be better off dead? It makes no sense to me but it is what it is."
s_1429_182,"**Things I have done:**
- Graduated college (BA in Business). - Lost 30 pounds (180lbs to 150lbs, 6ft tall). - Broke up with gf, got a new gf. - Got a new job. - Wrecked my car, got a new car. - Paid all credit card debt. - Quit smoking (after 10 years). **Things I've yet to do:**
- Get my own place. - Open my own restaurant. - Take an actual vacation to Europe/Asia. Insights: thanks for this OP. I was feeling down about myself, but upon reflecting, my life isn't so bad after all. I just need some capital to start my business."
s_1374_327,"A girl that used to date my roommate hit me up for money, $200. I told her I was only interested in sex, guns, and collateral. She said she didn't have any guns or collateral. Got her to agree to sex for as long as I wanted for $200. All my roommates and friends were laughing at her for agreeing to be a prostitute. She's a coke addict nowadays and we figured that's why she wanted the money. She gave me some BS story about car insurance."
s_1732_18,"When I first got clean and got into therapy I started to change and see my mistakes. I felt horrible about all the things wrong I did and I wanted to fix them somehow. I thought by apologizing and telling people that I was clean, a better person and everything I was finding out about myself that somehow it would fix it. What I found out was I needed to do more self work and get to a place where I didnt feel shame and regret for my past mistakes but could accept them as mistakes that were done. Once that happened I could properly assess each amend i needed or wanted to make to see if one had to made or needed to be just left alone. I understand that you found her and the tug on you to make an amends is pulling at you but maybe write out what you would say and just sit on it. I e found getting on paper what I would say to be extremely helpful in most cases. You have time, it doesnt have to be right now."
s_1551_472,"How to get over confidence issues? Im always so down on myself and constantly compare myself to others, i have a very low opinion of myself, and I have really bad social anxiety and cant talk to people. I feel inferior and hate myself for it. Is there any way for me to get over this?"
s_2415_150,"I don't breathe often These days I am so overwhelmed and anxious that I don't breathe for seconds. My heartbeat runs fast and my throat is always dry. My hands are shaky and I feel my brain is damaged. Perks of years of abuse and trauma. Sometimes I notice that I am not breathing and then have to make a conscious effort of breathing. I remember I used to get made fun of for being obese and to hide my fat I used to pull my stomach in and hold my breath so that people wouldn't make fun of my obesity. Funny thing is I wasn't that obese just a little but it was a big deal because my brother and cousin were athletic. It's a shame that most of the shaming came from them and my family and few friends. Maybe from there I got this habit of holding my breath. Anyway, well, I am so out of energy and I don't breath well."
s_2143_170,"I have depression, the illness makes me feel empty, I used to enjoy skiing and other activities but I have lost interest in some activities that I used to love doing and everything just feels grey to me. The illness makes me feel alone because not many 21 have depression thats why I hid it with a smile. I don't know if I answered the 3rd q right but it made me open up more about my depression an what i've been feeling inside."
s_2459_82,"Is it unhealthy to fast for extended periods of time? Sometimes I fast for up to weeks at a time. Not willfully (I'm pretty underweight, so there is no logical reason for me to fast.), but because I simply do not feel like eating. Just the thought of eating nauseates me during this time. Once I feel like eating again, I do a huge binge, sometimes lasting multiple days. Then I start fasting again (again, not willfully, but because I just don't want to eat)."
s_2215_653,"ENFP mad at me (INTJ) for not wishing them ""Nicely Enough"" on their Birthday. Need some insight... [Drama Alert] I'm an INTJ who has an ENFP good friend ( they think of me as a bestfriend but I don't think so and I've told them. They chose to ignore it I think). That said, I still think we are good friends. I don't really have bestfriends. It's just a word that I don't use ig. I've been super busy for I've this super important test coming up that will determine my career. I've been studying for it for the past 14 months. It's in a week. I'm scared, nervous but most of all I'm mentally exhausted. Anyway, I forgot to wish them at 12am because well I forgot. I didn't forget on purpose obviously but I must admit I didn't really plan or set a reminder of any sort. This isn't new actually, I almost always forget birthdays. I would forget mine if people didn't keep reminding me. The next day, I saw it on someone else's story and freaked out because I knew that me not wishing must have upset them. I immediately texted: gt; Happy Birthday! gt; I didn't forget, I was super occupied and exhausted. Hope you understand, it's a tough week. gt; How's it going? What have you planned for for the day? They said thanks and stuff and that was the end of it. When I came back home, I called and wished again (now that I had free time). They seemed fine, nothing weird and even said that they would call me in sometime as they were out. Said okay and well that was it. Woke up next morning, and saw a text from them: gt; Sorry I didn't call, I got home late. I replied saying ""cool"" and completely forgot about it until yesterday they message me saying : gt; The way you wish happy birthday is pathetic. It's as if there's no difference between you wishing or not wishing. I was surprised to say the least for I've always wished all my friends in the same way and we're still friends so they didn't mind. Then they send this: gt; ""Happy Birthday"" gt; Like, seriously? I'd atleast expect a call from you when you know how important birthdays are for me even though you don't care about them. And I reminded them that I did call, but they weren't convinced so I sent an ss of the logs. To which, to my surprise they reply gt; When I was at the club? gt; Won't count that! Now I am furious at this point. So I say: gt; Oh sorry that my tight schedule and career moves are inconvenient for you. To which they say: gt; so where's my gift? Okay so I don't like to gift people on birthdays because I feel like they feel obligated to gift me back. But I do randomly send gifts to my friends when I come across something that I think they would find useful or nice. This year, I sent them a 1 Word Journal because they mentioned that they wanted to be more introspective. I also sent a few books that I thought they'd like. I am not sorry for not sending birthday gifts. I don't believe in them and I will not apologize. I mean it's not like you won a Nobel, what's your achievement? Staying alive for 21 years? By this point I am super annoyed because they care about all this kids stuff like bdays and gifts especially when I'm navigating this exhaustimg part of my life. Oh and they know about it. I called them gt; juvenile and immature I also said: gt; I don't know any adults who would be mad about someone not wishing them nicely enough. We haven't spoken since and idk what to feel about this. This entire thing has made me feel that they don't value me or understand me at all after all these years. They also don't have their priorities straight. I am questioning their contribution in my life tbh."
s_2023_824,I cry every time
s_697_203,"How do I keep forcing myself to live, with no hope I cant remember the last time I felt happiness. Just pure joy I dont even think I know how to feel that anymore. For as long as I can remember Ive always wanted to be a mother, and a wife but mostly a mother. I failed at being a wife I guess because Im divorced and yet Im not a mother. I have managed to fuck up every relationship or friendship Ive ever had in my life. I know it takes two and I know in my mind its not completely my fault but I still blame myself for all of it. Ive lost it the desire to be anything to anyone. Im just sad and lost and I live each day with absolutely no purpose. I just want it to end.. this excruciating pain.. I want my life to end. Im so exhausted and being this sad everyday takes so much out of me. I dont even know who I am anymore I tried to find myself and in the process got even more lost im tired and I need it to end."
s_1905_12,"I really don't look forward to life after quitting I drink every day, usually for hours on end and go through ~half a fifth a day. It's awesome, and I love how I feel when I drink. The times I have with alcohol have been some of the greatest times of my life. But my habit is destroying my health and getting in the way, so I feel like I have no choice but to try to stop. But stopping sucks. I've only been sober for a couple days now, and I already have had to call into work because of how I feel. I don't know if I can tough it out and quit while maintaining my job. And I can't lose my job. Losing my job, with my current position in life, would completely fuck me over, in short. I can't let that happen. And I also feel disappointed knowing what I have to look forward to if I quit. Before I took to drinking, I used to be addicted to another drug. I used it everyday for years, too. But I quit, and even years later, I still want it really bad. I keep away from it fine, but I know enough by now to know that it's never going to stop and I'm always going to deal with wanting it back. And inbetween my addictions, I did develop new relationships and hobbies and passions.. but none of those ever offer the sake satisfaction like people said they would. So there's always the feeling knowing I'm missing out in a hell of a lot of fun. And now I have to add another substance to that feeling. I have to look forward to knowing there's even more out there I can't do, and more pleasure I can't have, and that I'm always going to want it. Quitting an addiction is hard, but I think I can do it again. I just wish there was more rewards to it, I guess. Something else to help make dealing with that feeling of want for the rest of my life seem a little less shitty."
s_2492_1,"Me [20/F] with my boyfriend [18/M] of 3 years, kissed another girl, and is constantly interested in Asian girls My boyfriend kissed his ""family"" friend last summer. He never told me. His mom said something vague about something between them, so I asked my boyfriend, and he said he just thought about it and had a very ""caught"" look on his face. I didn't believe him so I turned to facebook, messaged said girl, and asked her what really happened. She said that while she was staying the night at their house, they stayed up late watching a movie, and instead of going upstairs my boyfriend got into her bed with her and kissed her. She said after that she told him to leave, because she felt sorry for me. I never would've thought that anything would ever go on between them, ever. I've been around her plenty of times, and I never noticed anything between them previous to this. After about a week of thinking things through and talking with my boyfriend, I decided that I still wanted to be with him. He said that he was just horny and lonely, since at the time of the incident I had been away for two months. Then, last night, I asked him if he wants to go to bed with me (we live in his parents house and have separate bedrooms but usually sleep together), but he said that he had to stay up late to work on a paper. About 20 minutes later I go back into his room to borrow his charger, and I saw him go through about 10 photos of a pretty Korean girl on facebook. I asked him calmly what he was doing and he looked ""caught"" again and said that she was just a girl from school and that there were other people from his class in the photos too. The problem is, I know he has a thing for asian girls. He always has since I've known him (since he was 11 years old), and I've seen him looking at them plenty of times, whether it be at school, on facebook, or even when I came across a file of porn he had saved titled ""Asian Girls"". He is white and I'm only a quarter filipino, so I look white for the most part. After a week break/when we were talking through stuff, he admitted, on three occasions that I knew about but had never got a straight answer from him, that he liked three different girls (all asian) in the past, while we were together. All three girls were in relationships at the time. I think if he had the chance, something would have definitely happened... Anyway, I looked him in the eyes after he replied, and asked him to please be honest with me. He told me that she was a friend of a friend that he just noticed her in a profile picture, and decided to look through her profile bc he thought she was pretty. It just made me feel like shit. I'm glad he was honest, but I can't help it. I'll never look like all the girls he's always looking at/is interested in. It's taken a serious toll on my self-esteem. I don't know what to do at this point. It seems like this behavior will never end. However, I know he's young and so am I, and we've never been in a real relationship with anyone besides each other. I've never had a desire to be with anyone else while we we've been together. I've asked him multiple times why he wants to be in a relationship with me when it's obvious he wants to experience other people, but his response is always, ""I don't want to be with anyone else. I don't know. I love you"". I think he just has a problem with being lonely, and he likes the affection that I'm always giving him. I think it's hard for him to not have that, and maybe he's scared that he won't find/it will be a while before he does. If he finds someone while he's with me, then it would be easier for him. He'd just leave me and wouldn't have to have any lonely ""in-between"" time. He's going to Japan for a month and I don't trust him at all. I just don't know what to believe from him anymore. I always have to drag the truth out of him, and even then, I still can't tell if he's truly being honest with me. I can't imagine being without him. It kills me to think about it. But I'm wondering now if it's because leaving him would be a huge change for me. I live in Washington with him and his parents, and breaking up would probably mean going back to California to live with my family, which I don't really want to do. I talked to his mom about it and she said that I could still live here, but I think it would be too uncomfortable. Even though I told him to please leave me alone right now, he's been coming into my room and telling me he loves me and stuff, when I asked him not to come in without permission. We've been together so long, and he's all I know... I don't really have any other friends. This is probably one of the toughest decisions I've had to make thus far in my life, and I am so lost as to what to do. tl;dr: My boyfriend kissed another girl last summer, never told me about it. He's also constantly interested in other (asian) girls while he's been with me, and I'm not sure if this behavior will ever end. We've never been in a relationship with anyone besides each other, so I think he just wants to experience other people, but has never admitted to it. I can't imagine being with anyone else. Thinking about leaving kills me. I don't know what to do."
s_1769_104,"I would say so now, but there was a time I didn't. I don't know when or how it happened, but one day I just decided that being me is awesome, imperfections and all. I don't want to be anyone else but me, the best me I can be. I am kind of sad that when I go I won't get a chance to be myself again (though I do hope I am reborn female in my next life). My only regret is that I wasted so many years mired in self hatred and sadness, which prevented me in maximizing this experience we call life."
s_1601_595,"I used to do both because I thought one shower a day was nasty, then I became lazy and showered in the morning only because I thought not showering before leaving the house was nasty, but then lately I've been showering at night ... Because I want an extra hour of sleep. I really can't fall asleep early, so I rather shower immediately before bed (midnight) so I can wake up at 7 instead of 6 or 6:30. However I work 'at home', so whatever. If I have to go outside, I still shower beforehand. Btw when I say nasty, I mean I would be nasty if I did it. I used to sweat a lot, and not showering twice a day meant hell until I found a good deo, and since it's still cold and I don't sweat at night anymore, I wake up smelling fresh now. Very happy."
s_634_65,I eat it all the time
s_91_318,"It's the health epidemic that's sweeping the nation. If you and your product cannot be synonymous with healthy active living, it will fail in today's market. I'm not saying there's anything at all wrong with healthy living, but I can't help but feel it's forced down my throat every day, and this picture is a perfect example of it. Every time I eat a cheeseburger or have a cigarette I can't help but feel overwhelmingly guilty, it really sucks. TL;DR Boo hoo poor me."
s_1404_1306,"How can I wake up without being tired and lazy in the morning? I'm so extremely weak and tired and lazy when it's time to wake up, that even if the loud sound of my alarm clock annoys me, I do not even have the energy to move my arm in order to turn it off. I just wait and fall back asleep when the alarm turns off automatically. My issues are so bad that my parents have to help me getting out of bed in order to not miss my classes. I'm 22 years old. And even after I got out of bed, no matter what I do, I stay half asleep while eating breakfast, I rest my head on the table while eating with my eyes closed because im so fucking tired. And then I'm in class, still too tired to do any of my work since I need about 3 hours to fully wake up after getting out of bed. And yes, I sleep enough hours. Most of the time I even sleep 10 to 12 hours. And it still seems impossible to wake up when the alarm clock goes after having slept 12 hours. I sleep 12 hours without waking up during the night and I still have no energy in the morning. So what the fuck am I supposed to do? Go to bed even earlier? Sleep 20 hours instead of 12? Its very frustrating to always wake up tired and then when I complain why class starts so early people tell me that I should just go to bed early, BUT THAT DOESNT HELP I GO TO BED 12 HOURS BEFORE WAKE-UP-TIME ALREADY Help, what do I do?"
s_1452_255,"I'm 42, she's 36. Together over 15 years, kids, house, jobs, the whole deal. Last night was oral for her on the craft room table, twice, plus a good fisting, then a BJ for me outside on the patio, followed by PIV and then anal to finish. Nothing special for us, either, just what we had decided for that particular Monday. Sex is better overall for me...I understand more and I last longer. The refractory period is quite a bit longer than it was when I was seventeen...but at the same time, I've learned to take my time and please my partner, and the majority of the time a second round is overkill. ( And leaves us both sore!)"
s_1499_1082,"Feeling good for the first time in months and I can't even enjoy it. I feel like someone's going to turn a corner and yell at me for something I haven't done or did wrong, hit me, whatever. I haven't lived with either of my Nparents in five years but I still get that total, wind knocked out of me, paralyzing fear/""oh sh*t"" nearly every time I relax. It was always my fault, even if it wasn't. When I was enjoying myself, it MUST have been at her expense. There must have been some thing I could do or admit to, to make them feel better about themselves. Not even a half hour of relaxing."
s_2139_287,"I would describe it as a deep hole. You sink deep into the hole. Sometimes you are able to crawl out and see the light of day but it doesnt last and you find yourself back in the hole. I dont have much Hypomania just depression. I get bored of everything. One minute as the OP said I may be all into it or loving it whether its a person, or an activity. And suddenly I just lose all interest in it or them."
s_1773_564,"20/M/FL Need a friend! :) Hi, I'm Zach. I love meeting new people. I consider myself funny, I love making people laugh. I'm a very good listener. I'm a non-judgmental person that loves when people tell me about their day or something that happened to them that particular day. I'm a very down to earth person that enjoys life. A best friend would make it even more enjoyable. I love music, Netflix, animals, the beach, pretty much anything to occupy me. I'm really mature and I know how to handle myself as well. With that being said, if you're interested in having a loyal, honest, ""count on me"" best friend, please message me or comment. We'll see where it goes. Oh, and it doesn't matter male or female either. :)"
s_2415_174,"I feel incompetent, what to do? I was one of the toppers in last year of high school but I have been out of school for 2 years and I dropped out from college this semester. I am quite clueless about what to do in life and naturally an anxious person. I had friends who failed a year back in school and were clearly less smarter than I was. Yet, the thing is one friend who was never good in studies but good in theater is now confident and has a job that pays quite well and he seems to be enjoying his life. One very close friend is into drugs, alcohol etc. and was never good in studies and even failed a year back in school but he is an entertainer who knows how to conduct himself in social situations. He also has a job right now because he isn't studying that doesn't pay well but at least he has a job. I feel very incompetent now. I have lost motivation, have no direction, I'm anxious, socially retarded, don't even have the courage to go for job interviews let alone doing a job and I feel exhausted all the time. I'd say I am a good thinker but I have no qualifications or experience so that people might take me seriously. I can't put in 10 hours everyday for work everyday because I feel tired and just really have no motivation. So, despite all the grades and all the compliments I used to get about how smart I am, I feel so incompetent now because the people who were once behind me seems far ahead now. Looking for some motivation/advice."
s_469_428,"I used to be so happy when Dumbledore awarded the quartet the points, and Neville was the last one. Cross my heart, I would cry sometimes."
s_2697_4,"I just got it a week ago and haven't finished training so they aren't paying me right now. All money I get goes into food - they don't buy food as they eat out - and the animals, otherwise the animals will live in squalor and starve. When I buy myself some food for the week they just eat it all anyway, so what money I do get I put into buying a sandwich and crisps for that day so I can finally eat something. I've been trying to get by with selling short stories and the odd piece of art, but it's not much. I'm sorry if that doesn't make sense. I can't stop crying right now."
s_898_1730,teams are gonna do this from here on out. I fear for the future
s_2139_149,"Going through this right now. I was really depressed yesterday. Today no extreme feelings but I have been tired, unmotivated, and just feeling bored. I had moments of energy and feeling fine and then it just went back down to sadness."
s_220_355,"It seems like I went through webMD and picked symptoms. I have irrational, uncontrollable anger that I can't handle well in many situations. I'm very emotionally unstable; I can go from ecstatic to livid like the flip of a switch, and I handle neither particularly well. I have really bad abandonment issues for no apparent reason and it manifests in my testing relationships and generally being an asshole to make sure people don't abandon me. I nearly always feel empty; the only time I don't is during extremely special happy events and when I drink. I make a conscious effort to control my drinking and drink less than once a month, and I'm a lightweight so literally two Smirnoff ice and I'm drunk. I drive and spend rather recklessly and I find myself dissociating and unable to really change my off the wall actions. I also have a history with self harm. I've read that BPD is often hard to diagnose because people with it don't want to be criticized so they won't mention shitty things they do. Because of that, I feel like a fraud, like if I really had it I couldn't be this self critical. I've had some of these symptoms for a long time, but stuff like the dissociating is very recent, like within the last year. The only stable relationships I have are with my wife and my mother. I go through ""friends"" like water and I admittedly am a terrible judge of character so I pick them poorly."
s_621_584,"I don't want to be alive anymore, but i'm not suicidal. Reddit, do you feel like this sometimes? I do even know where to begin. I've been feeling like this for a few weeks now. All I want to do is stay in bed and sleep. I feel like i'm not needed in life, and that If I was to die, no one would even noticed. Reddit, do you feel similar to this, and how do I get out of this feeling?"
s_1601_754,"I understand, that I am not SPD, but I still have it. It was not a choice, and I am finding it hard to accept (at least right now). My brain is in constant contradiction mode. The things I want to enjoy are things I cannot enjoy. I can get out of my shell, fake the best social skills in the world, go out with a a few high school classmates with whom I felt comfortable to talk with, and .... I don't enjoy it. I can't enjoy it. I want to go home and be alone. Then I go home, see them interacting with other people, then I get envious and sad. It's just a very annoying thing to go through, and I don't see how to fix it. I just moved to another country and I still don't have insurance, plus because of what I am doing, I don't think therapy is a wise thing to go through. For the next year at least, I can't get help. I'll probably feel better soon, get over it, go back to my old hermit self. But next month, I'll reach another low, then another high (it's really 'median'), then an another low."
s_2080_955,I am big sad right now. Was hoping for one of those top 4 or 5 Edge guys.
s_1244_311,"Believe me I loved those highs. Everything clicked. I was useful. But those lows. I had some very close calls after just too many migraines. It sucks, it really does. However, I try desperately to hold it in perspective. My mother has the same chronic condition plus an unrelenting allergy to most food additives. I watched her keep going and so Im determined as well. All I can say for advice is a therapist can help quite a bit and most important just keep putting on foot in front of another. Keep going. No matter what. The alternative sucks worse no matter the pain. Sorry this is so long. It kind of just came pouring out along with the tears"
s_1545_22,"I am so successful, and I am also severely depressed. Comparisons with depression are useless, because everyone's is so different. Your feelings are valid!"
s_2683_115,Thanks! :) like I said im really indecisive about it right now which is why im waiting to make a decision.
s_2662_0,"Awkward Request - I can't concentrate at work at all. Please Help! I have been working as an intern and I can not for the life of me stay with the conversation. Earlier, I used to zone out, slowly drift away and then occasionally return. But now-a-days I can not even focus for five minutes. I am constantly surfing else where, looking for fulltime opportunities, I am also being completely indifferent to what is happening. I really feel this is impeding my growth and causing a lot of problems in enabling me to have an impact and find a full time opportunity. I do not know if this is ADHD or something... Is it just me or does everyone feel that most corporate conversations is everyone just trying to get by by throwing around the randomest of jargon and pretending to understand everyone else. I have been doing so for the last two months and I am exhausted, unable to focus and I feel plain dumb. Is this because of a potential ADHD, or am I in way over my head? Any tips would save an early career professional!"
s_464_138,"One thing Ive learned since having my son, time goes by is incredibly fast. Felt slow when he would only fall asleep in my arms or when he was cluster feeding or fighting naps, but here we are. He turns 1 next Wednesday. I honestly have been crying on and off all week. Bringing me back to this time last year, I spent the days before he was born crying my face off afraid of the world and afraid of being a terrible mother. The best part of my life has been watching him experience the world around him. My partner is taking him on a road trip this weekend to see his parents and Im sure Ill be knee deep in tears the whole time. I just love him so so so much. I cant imagine my life before him"
s_212_757,"Self improvement I wake up i try to improve my life, i still scratch my hair and skin, i still pop my joints, i still can't read a book and focus, i still get scared and anxious and confused, i still, fap and watch porn, i still eat junk, i still distract myself rather than think difficult thoughts, i am trying to re-wire these things but it looks like the downward spiral isn't changing course thus making it even harder to quit in the future
neuroscience :("
s_18_988,"I was referring more to the constant discomfort of blue balls and the possibility of changes in personality. When I get blue balls, I get very irritable and frustrated. My testosterone fueled mind constantly thinks of sex and how I can get it. I'm not one of those guys that will sleep with any girl for recreation. I only want to have sex with someone I'm in love with. That is a big personality change for me"
s_2434_208,"Im so tired Im just so tired of everything. Ive been depressed since I was about 12 years old, and Im 15 now, and all my depression is doing is getting worse. Ive been through so many failed relationships and all I wanna do is kill myself. I just cant live in this world anymore. Especially since it seems like no one cares about me. I crave hugs and affection, but I can never ever get it due to the walls I put up for myself to protect myself from being more hurt than I already am. Ive been teased by classmates and other people and..its all too much..Im trying to be strong and live through it all, but Ill definitely end up dead at this point. Im hearing voices and I think people all want to kill me or just hate me or are just untrustworthy. I dont know what to do anymore."
s_697_59,"How did we get here? I dont understand how Ive gotten to today. Everyday seems to be more miserable than the last even though it seemed impossible yesterday to feel any worse. Seems pointless, to keep living another day with the proof that tomorrow you will feel worse. Im so tired of everything, Im tired of living, most of all Im tired of being sad. There is no cure for this, its like living with cancer except its a mental health illness youre still just living each day till the day you just give up and die. Knowing that its inevitable, we will all die in a way is comforting. Someday, whether on my terms or not it will end. Hopefully that will be the end of everything all the sadness. I just keep waiting for that day"
s_1492_318,"10k of debt? I'm in nearly 30k :( fuck my life :(
I don't know anyone that earns that kind of money, especially not a 22 year old. I'm such a fucking failure :'("
s_1404_316,"psychiatrist doesn't believe I have depression but I do. What should I do? Im always tired. Im never motivated to do anything 3. I don't enjoy anything in life 4. I feel bad and sad everyday 5. I have no energy to take care of myself, to even brush my teeth 6. I can't focus on my homework 7. I think about death every few days My psychiatrist thinks I have these symptoms because I have autism ..... how can this not be depression??? Im frustrated because I really think I have depression. I had the diagnosis depression before and back then I had the exact same symptoms. I think I have depression but my psychiatrist thinks not. What should I do?"
s_282_43,"I need help recognizing and accepting narcissist mother. Sorry for the slightly vague title but I recently came across this thread and I never realized my mom could be one of these but I hope someone who has put up with someone like my mother can help me understand my situation better and hopefully offer some advice as well. It might be a long story. My dad passed away when I was 11. My mom has been ""raising"" me and my sister ever since. She's also a cancer survivor which I think is a pretty noteworthy detail for context. She's a strict Muslim, never went to college and extremely traditional minded. I've been a high achiever all my life. I'm also a closeted gay man who has SEVERAL issues to say the least. Never opened up about any of them in my life but yeah, I'm depressed and suicidal. It sucks that I cannot come out to anyone I know in real life for obvious reasons. As time passed, I found my mental health deteriorating since I couldn't seek help nor even open up about it. I'm supposed to be the pillar of my family now that my father is gone so there's no chance to show vulnerability. It's taking an obvious toll on me and I'm pretty much exhausted. I feel like I'm wasting my life now and I do pretty reckless, harmful things to myself. My mother however is completely oblivious. She continues to guilt trip or emotionally blackmail me. If I under-perform in a test, she brings up the fact how she's a single mother who raised us. If I talk back or ask her to give me space because I'm an ADULT who can make his own decisions, she reminds me how she has no one left since my dad is gone. If I don't talk to her she starts pretending like her health is *worsening*. Being dramatic, faking being dizzy, not eating in front of me but acting normal when I'm not around and all that. She is AWARE that she's quite literally the only person I have left on this Earth. If she's ""gone"", no one's going to take care of me and my sister and I'm not independent enough to do that either. She takes full advantage of the fact. She'll constantly victimize herself in situations that solely affect me. She guilt tripped me into picking a career field I have LOST interest in and clearly can't excel it, simply because it was her and my late father's dream. These are BIG decisions that she's so precariously making about my life, because to her, Im a puppet of her desires. I recently caught her talking about me behind my back. She was complaining about how I'm underperforming in school to my aunt and whatever. Keep in mind that ALL MY LIFE until now, I've been an A+ student. She wasn't worried about me under-performing, she was upset that I'm not ""making her proud in the family"" like I used to before. And who cares about what I'M going through? She just wants the praise. She'll constantly remind me to ""go study"" and it BOTHERS me so much because is that all there is to life? First she makes me choose a degree I NEVER wanted to do, then she borderline forces me to study at my big age and then she acts upset when I don't listen to her? I'm an ADULT but she ONLY sees me as a vessel who's going to fulfill all her dreams and give her a life of luxury. I CAN'T HAVE MY LIFE. And the worst part is, it will ONLY get worse from here. She expects me to get married and what not. I seriously feel like I'm nothing but a toy doll. I'm not allowed to have ANYTHING of my own, just things that make HER happy. She wants grandkids, I have to give her biological grandkids. She wants a doctor for a son? I have to become the doctor. She wants a big house, nice car and lots of servant buzzing around her, I have to earn it all and give it to her. And what do I get? Constant blackmailing, torture and absolutely no sense of individuality. I don't know who I am anymore, just that I am what she wants me to be. When someone asks me what I like, I say biology, not because I like it, but because she wants me to like it. This is another stupid detail but just to add on to how fucking frustrated I am by her. I am colorblind. During my chemistry practical tests, it's hard for me to distinguish color changes and everything. I can ask for assistance but I made the dumb mistake of mentioning it to my mother. She told me I'm not colorblind, told me to NEVER tell my teachers because that's a sign of weakness and they could use that as an excuse to fail me in my practical tests and to never seek for help. It's so bad that I'm ashamed of even mentioning to anyone that I'm colorblind. Because that makes me the not perfect kid. I want to run away but I'm so emotionally attached to her, even though shes CLEARLY so toxic. I don't want to lose her. When she had cancer, it was the worst time of my life because I lost my dad and I was scared of losing her too. I was only 11 and my sister was 9. I still have that fear and I love my sister, I don't want to leave her behind but I can't live with this woman any longer. I don't wish death upon her by any means but I just desperately need a way out and it's driving me crazy that there's no way out. Is she really a narcissist or is there some other issue with her?"
s_1625_509,"Yes, it would be good to fix that. I take meds at night to help with getting to sleep and I have a routine from 8-11pm, which I follow rigorously, to help with sleep issues. I turn off my reading light between 11-11:15 every night. Most people interpret repeated tardiness as a lack of respect for them, their time, the time they put aside for you. They see it as your attempt to be in charge, in control, ""to keep them in their place"", subservient to you. That may not be at all where you're coming from, but it IS how almost everybody feels about people who always kerp them waiting."
s_1354_155,"Hey /r/girlgamers what's your opinion on ""sexualized"" equality? Accidently deleted my text in my post, so I have to redo:
If 50% of objectified characters were adult men, in the exact same fashion as the sexualized adult women (not the male idol fallacy, but actual objectification for the straight female gaze, or whatever) would that help the situation of objectified characters? I should note I'm not talking about third person leery camera movements, I'm talking about design of the character. I don't think anyone really likes cringeworthy camera shots of a boob or bum or a package, but if a character is wearing skimpy clothing and they own it - equally between the sexes, does it become less of an issue? I understand two wrongs don't make a right, but if we are going to focus on moral issues in games, isn't violence more problematic in that regard? I'm a sex positive bisexual male, so I'm definitely not interested in sex and sexuality being a taboo and I don't mind looking at objectified men in games either!, but I am not in the right position to make a clear assessment myself so I'm curious what people's thoughts are on adult characters being treated 50-50 equivelant."
s_2986_379,Dicks can be as wide as coke cans? Well now I feel self confident
s_2593_450,"yeah, I'm having serious issues with self harm and daily suicidal thoughts"
s_2596_42,"oh no, I can't sleep now lol"
s_2000_973,Yeah I do a lot. And then I usually fall into a depression right after. And I get extremely irritated at the tiniest of things. I hate ptsd so damn bad.
s_2781_521,Oh yea I would like to die
s_543_354,Carolina went in the 8th and Miami went in the 10th in my league. I'm so sad right now......
s_1514_767,"(continued p.1)
---
The man trembled, but spoke for us. "" Sir, I've been locked up at gunpoint, given endless scans, sent into supernatural darkness, seen my squadmates torn apart and then delivered back to me, put up with endless evil sermons, even shot a friend because a mosquito got in his brain. I'm *tired* and I know if I go back in the Ink, I'm gonna die."" The brigadier general nodded, his gaze scanning the tired faces around him. "" You all feel this way?"" Nods followed. He stepped back, and his already deep voice lowered an octave with grim anger. "" If we don't deal with this situation, we are all going to die. That means that you will probably die whether you go back into the Ink or not."" Unhappy murmurs circled the crowd. As he walked away, his order cut right into our hopes. "" Have them build hotboxes, and put them all through in a rotation until they comply. Two hours each."" A great unhappy noise swelled among us, but we were soldiers, and we weren't going back into the Ink for the moment so we followed the officers' orders, and began building our own torture devices under the hot Sun. I was already sweaty and tired when they threw me in the one I'd built. It was simple, really - six metal plates bolted together. It hadn't even taken very long to make. But my two hours would feel like forever. I sat in there, sweating, frying, melting for an eternity. All I wanted was to go home. This was a nightmare in every sense. Down one path, there was darkness and hellish threats that continually tore at us, at our sanity down the other, slowly dying in a hotbox. The Sword wasn't going to let us leave. It occurred to me, in a flash of feverish inspiration, that nobody had taken brain scans of the brigadier general himself. How did we know *he* wasn't under some evil influence? What if a neural mosquito had gotten to *him*, and this was its way of slowly killing all of us? I cried, but no tears came out. I was too dehydrated. I remember being very certain that I was going to die in that box before I ever got a chance to grab for that one slim hope
But the top did eventually open, and they pulled me out and dumped the next guy in. I stumbled to the nearest water and guzzled it down alongside a long line of other red-skinned soldiers doing the same. As soon as I could, I slipped away, and found Thompson. She was in the techie tent, drawing plans to kill the Preacher. Her face was absolutely filled with hate for that thing and I couldn't blame her but she quickly threw on a neutral expression when she saw me. It was all I could do just to talk through my heat exhaustion. "" I have a theory that the brigadier general's been compromised."" She regarded me with a skeptical but open look. "" I nodded, and tried to breathe normally. "" This is crazy it's unlike any campaign I've ever been on. That man is driving us forward with torture, and he doesn't care if we die. Do you have any recent brain scans of him? Like you took on us?"" Her gaze went distant for a moment. "" No I don't, actually."" ""Will you get one?"" I asked, desperate. She nodded. "" You're thinking neural mosquito?"" ""I'll manage it,"" she promised quietly. "" Now get out of here before someone sees you. Nobody can know about this conversation."" I made it to my bunk and fell before my body completely gave out and they came for me a few minutes later, dragging me back to the hotbox for my next turn. There were a great many people in those boxes, in the sand, in the heat crying. We couldn't last. It simply wasn't possible. Groans and shouts gave way, and we were all spared the hotboxes for agreeing to go back into the Ink the next day. I lay in my empty tent, awake the entire night, hoping against hope that your ex-wife would come through before we had to go back into that dark and silent Hell. She snuck in some time just before dawn, a brain scan document in hand. ""What'd you get?"" I asked, exuberant, even trying to sit up. She shook her head and showed me. "" He's clean."" ""*What?*"" ""Nothing wrong with his brain. No mosquitoes. Whatever's out in the Ink, it really must be worth all this suffering."" I remember sobbing uncontrollably. "" ""I'm sorry,"" she said, pouring some water across my reddened forehead. "" But we're all here for a reason. Everything he's done is technically legal."" She paused. "" But if he gets worse, come to me. I'll make some calls."" I could only screw up my face and nod. And, then, a few hours later, it was time to gear up and go back out. There was no chatter, no murmurs no talk of any kind. Silent, broken, despairing, we went through the motions of setting up lights and guarding ourselves against unknown threats, but I was sure each of us simply expected to die in some new and horrible way. It was on that day that we finally reached our objective. I think we were six miles deep into the Ink at that point, and four miles straight down thanks to the impossible slope. I envisioned it as an immense unseen crater that existed only inside that valley of darkness
And it was just sitting there at the center of the enormous crater, the slope stretching up and away on all sides. ""Any contact with the Preacher yet?"" the brigadier general asked over the static-filled radio relays. Nobody responded in the affirmative. They wouldn't, because I knew where the Preacher had gone. It had continually retreated whenever we'd tried to attack it and it had vacuumed up more than one of our dead colleagues to add to its bulk. Standing with five other men and staring at the source of the Ink, I knew where it had gone each night. The ten-foot-high sphere sat casually in the sand, like it had simply chosen to fall and rest there. Each edge held an asymptotic darkness, but, within, we saw another place. As we watched, it shifted. Another place and another seconds later, another
This was some sort of hellish egg, or black hole, or shadow portal, or *something* and it went to places beyond any of our worst fears. We reported our discovery, and the next order did not surprise us at all. ""All units, gather at the Sphere. We'll deploy each time the blood-lakes and corpse-mountains world appears."" This time, I knew who spoke. I picked up my radio, and signed what felt like my own death warrant: ""No, sir."" Another man raised his radio, his gaze aghast as he witnessed what looked like, in all actuality, Hell itself. His words were as tear-filled as his eyes. "" We refuse."" ""*The Preacher must die!*"" the Sword roared over the radio, his high shout causing a burst of static. Forty men and women now stood outside the Sphere, lit by a weird shadow-light that ignored the ten foot limit, and we looked at each other in confusion. The Preacher? Was that the true objective of our operations? Judging from the anger and hate in that shout, was this some sort of revenge mission? Or had he simply lost it completely? ""Set your charges,"" I remember breathing, and, somehow, everyone heard me. I wasn't in charge, but they listened. We piled up all the C4 and other explosives we had. We took all our mortar shells and rigged them up. We surrounded that fucking thing with enough firepower to blow a hole in reality itself. Fitting, judging by what I guessed that it was. We trekked back through the Ink, unafraid now. Everything that had been in here had been coldly and carefully murdered by thousands of armed men and women, and there was nothing left but us. We'd never figured out who had been leaving our friends' limbs for us to find, but we guessed that, since they hadn't attacked us yet, they never would. Long lines of soldiers trekked out of the Ink together, and we headed back to camp, soul-weary. The Sword was standing there, waiting for us, all of the officers lined up to his left and right. His monolithic stance and grim expression indicated immediately that we were in trouble. Somebody explained what we'd done, and that we'd set a timer on the explosives. He took a breath, and somehow grew even taller. "" Go back into the Ink and disarm those explosives."" ""There's hardly time,"" someone said. ""Reed,"" the Sword ordered, not so much as moving his head. "" Shoot that man in the leg."" ---
(continued in one more comment)"
s_2479_33,"I find that i'm a lot more teary over almost everything. I met a puppy last week, i cried for five whole minutes. I've even gotten my boss to cry because i've cried over something cute. We set each other off."
s_993_196,I boarded the meds train quite late after suffering from 14 years or so. I had insomnia before meds and even after meds it continued. I normally sleep for 7-8 hours but was getting barely 4 hours or none at all. My doctor prescribed an SOS sleep medicine and melatonin for that.
s_2402_246,"My mental health is so bad again. My family has realised something is up, and they want me to go Doctors, something my boyfriend has been saying to me for months. I can't handle this, I'm cutting myself again and all I want to do is kill myself. I hate this so fucking much."
s_2748_438,"I'm unemployed, and so depressed and anxious that I can't get the motivation to get out of bed, let alone interview and work. I'm also sick with a cold so that makes me feel even more worthless. Anyone know how to get on disability until I get medicated and stable again enough to hold down a job?"
s_1201_760,"I just cant cry, i dont get that emotional at anything nor have i felt pain that would make me cry (in the last 2 years because thats when i started not crying)"
s_1247_1004,I feel like I have lost the ability to focus After seeking treatment for depression and being on meds for two years I'm off and feeling great! My only problem is I feel like I can't focus. I'm more distracted and know for a fact my attention span and memory are not the same. Has anyone else experienced something similar? I have been off lecapro for a few months now also.
s_898_1684,my disappointment is beyond measure and everything is sad
s_1958_404,"I'm a pretty pessimistic asshole. I watch it sometimes just to remind myself to be nice to other people. I also grew up with Flash-based animation, so I like their art style. No jerking it to horses, no dressing up in outfits, no annoying other people with it, no ""brony"" t-shirts, etc. I do occasionally listen to MLP-based music though like Cupcakes, Trixie the Pony Troll, etc. But people don't generally make fun of me for watching A:TLA, Korra, Kill La Kill, Ghost in the Shell, Futurama, Fullmetal Alchemist, etc. Most are surprised that I watch MLP at all."
s_1190_124,"Happy Cake Day! Thank you for the very specific feedback and strategies. I will try my best to incorporate them into my life as well (rabbits may become my thing now). I'm starting to think that I cry when I feel frustrated, especially when I'm trying to get a point across and I can't or I feel completely helpless in any given situation. In terms of conversations, I have no way of knowing if people feel like I don't care when they tell me problems - because most of the time they talk to me once and that's it. The only person in my life who is brutally honest about my social shortcomings is my husband - learning about them at 29 is a bit late in the game. Thanks for helping me feel a little more hopeful about what a therapist could do for me, even one with very little ASD experience."
s_2606_888,"At a school camp I fell into a ditch playing a game and broke my arm. I couldn't sleep because of the pain, and went to tell the teacher that I thought I'd sprained it. She told me to take a drink of water and go back to bed. I cried myself to sleep. Then the next day a friend had a bandage so I put it on. The teacher told me to take it off because it was dirty. I didn't participate in archery or abseiling which is unusual for me because I love those two things, but she kept treating me like I was overreacting. I got an x-ray 2 days later and it showed a fracture of the wrist. I got a cast and returned to school. The teacher gave me the dirtiest looks and hated me since then."
s_552_54,"So...I've actually died(suicide) Here's the thing. You won't be judged by God. But you WILL have to have to feel feel a very magnified...by like...thousands...pain in the shoes of every person you've ever hurt. We absorb this pain so that it doesn't hurt others as much in the ""now"". It means your pain is even greater than what you are experiencing. I was clinically dead for 17 minutes. I spent the Earth equivalent of what I'd call 2 weeks roughly in the indescribable, all encompassing love of God. He has always known and loved you. She would never judge you. The Devine to me feels masculine with the touch of a new mother as she holds her newborn. I'm regretting EVERY DAY I've been back because I chose to come back...only to be abandoned by the person I didn't want to see destroyed as I was shown she would be. I keep this typed up in case I think someone needs to hear it. If you have any questions you can feel free to message me. I am always there for other NDE experiencers and people who've been in a relationship with a wcluster a Cluster B. I hope you can get something positive from it. I've always believed in God. I was never a church goer or Bible beater by any means, but certainly had the feeling that something greater created us and there was a reason for this life. At times I've cussed and screamed at him that I hated him for the pain in my life. I've totally turned and lost faith at times as well. The faith I have now is rooted in a near/post death experience during a suicide attempt a few months back. I ate an entire month's supply of blood pressure medication and layed down to die. I'm actually still processing a lot of what happened and what I was shown and the knowledge and Undescribable, unconditional Love God has for ALL OF US. GOD IS LOVE, and we are all OF GOD, and we are ALL part of each other.. We are creators as well. Time is an illusion, but I spent what would be the equivalent of a couple weeks in God's Glory and kingdomthere's ways you can go too without dying(I don't recommend it) Believe it or not, we actually CHOSE this life and most of the tragedy in it. We even chose how we die. I know right?!?! WTF WERE WE THINKING?!?! I can't sit here and write the book in one sitting, but I'll bless you with some knowledge. The MEANING OF LIFE"" is something everyone wants to know, and it's a lot simpler than we all think. This life, on Earth, is not our first and won't be our last. The people closest to us have traveled with us before, and we made contracts with them for this lifetime. Earth life is a SCHOOL. It teaches one collective lesson that is truly important. HOW TO LOVE AND HOW TO BE LOVED. There's no graduating with a 4.0 either. There IS HOWEVER a pass/fail kind of thing, and if we fail ourselves or our loved ones, we gotta come back and do it again until we get it right. We also have an individual PURPOSE. This is different than meaning"". It could be as simple as a stranger watching us perform a random act of kindness and inspiring a ripple effect that goes on paying it forward for a very long time. It could be as profound as curing a disease or stopping a war. I wasn't told my purpose, but I know it's found by knowing the MEANING and loving people the best you can and accepting the love they give back. I was introduced to a soul I'd never met before I came backby choiceand she told me her name on Earth. I'd never heard this name before EVER, but it was so familiar to me when I awoke that it was etched into my mind. She said if I have questions about the afterlife to read her work, but to take it with a grain of salt because she didn't get all of it right, and that me having her name it would verify to me that what I experienced was real. Go on YouTube and listen to some of her lectures. I did, and I instantly started crying tears of extreme joy and my connection to God has never been stronger. With all the research I've done on folks that have experienced what I did, they're all VERY SIMILAR. Peter Panagore is a minister that had a very SIMILAR(not exact) NDE as mine. My story is very complicated, and though I chose to come back, I made a mistake. Ive woken up every morning in complete agony and heartbreak. I'm a pretty tough guy who, until now, hasn't cried a lot. I've cried for 7 strait months.. I'm putting g a stop to it and going home, but for those of you remaining here in this school of love, RememberI LOVE YOU! GOD LOVES YOU WAY MORE, and don't forget that. It's one more person than some people have, so go out there. Do something for someone else you don't know and don't expect a thing back. I don't care if you volunteer at a homeless shelter or give a homeless person a few dollars. Go to an old folks home and just spend some time talking to people that don't have anyone ever come see them. You pick, but you'll be AMAZED at how beautiful life becomes. (("
s_2584_16,i'm a middle-aged fucking adult and i can't get the fucking courage to kill myself. i feel even more worthless for living. i never have any relief from this mental pain. I'M SO FUCKING TIRED!
s_1116_989,"Ate a total of 600 calories yesterday. Before that, I had one apple in two days. I've been through a living hell since October 2014 (my whole life really, that's just when it got worse). I am not intentionally starving myself and do eat when I feel a little hungry, but I have lost all appetite almost. I was at 136 lbs when I last weighed myself am now at 128. Still a healthy weight for my height, but I am feeling the affects on my body already. The shakes, the dizziness, etc. As someone who used to cut and is no longer able to, I get the same satisfaction from it that I used to get cutting. So I do enjoy it a little. As I said, it isn't that I am hungry and am ignoring it. I'm just not hungry. If I felt like I was hungry enough to eat an entire hamburger, I would. But I do wonder how long this will go on."
s_1899_388,"dearest OP,
I currently am going through some tough times right now as well. While they aren't over, maybe it'll make you feel better to know you aren't alone. After being at the top of my class, in the honors program, and class president, I got discriminated by a teacher verbally and emotionally over and over again. Just brought my self confidence to an all time low. I developed panic disorder, lost my position on council, got kicked out of the program as senior in college, and now I have to start all over in another major when I thought I was going to graduate this year at the top of my grade. Though I can't get over it, learned to COPE. I talked to friends, I started to take life day by day and stopped planning into the future unless i really needed to. I tell myself I'm beautiful everyday, I tell myself I'm not worthless - even thought sometimes I don't believe it, but you know - sometimes I do. I don't know what kind of advice to give you, but you aren't alone in tough times :)"
s_342_9,"People on abillify: If you have increased appetite, how do you cope with it? My doctor started me off on about 5mg of Abillify every evening, but this increased appetite is really fucking everything up. I can't sleep because I'm hungry, if I do sleep it's only a couple of hours and I wake up hungry. I've tried eating a lot of protein but that only works for about 2 hours then I'm hungry again. I can't live like this. I need my sleep. What do you guys do to cope with increased appetite?"
s_2107_102,want to die again i wish i was dead. i am usually really apathetic about it. i just want it to happen and me not to have to do anything. i have no more energy. i want to slice my skin open. i am fighting it. i have self harmed in the past but managed to stop. i don't care about myself anymore. i don't wash. i feel like i need to do something quick. i am in a loving relationship. he has depression and is very stable. he is understanding. but the sex life is diminished. i want sex. i am all over the place. i managed to ring for help when i wanted to kill myself. i wanted to jump off a bridge. i have no friends. i have borderline personality disorder. i was on citalopram. i have started a new antidepressant but it is not working. i am fat and i over eat. i need to vent. there us more information but i can never remember all of it.
s_1404_856,"How can I stop being lazy? Due to mental issues, alot of stress and problems in my life, I have become tired and lazy. To be less tired I have to sleep and eat well, thats obvious. But how can I stop being lazy? These days I only relax and do nothing productive anymore. I have been like this for more than a year now. Even if one day I work really hard on my homework, the next day im lazy again. Doing productive things just feels alot different than it did in the past. In the past I could be productive for hours everyday, now only minutes. Why am I so extremely lazy, why do I stare at the wall doing nothing, why do I play games instead of doing homework? How can I stop being lazy in the long run?"
s_796_391,"Is it too late to get in shape? I thought so but thank goodness I was wrong! I'm a 35 year old father of four. I design for a living and lived a sedentary lifestyle up until about 6 months ago. I smoked, never played sports, overweight for the most part of my life, had severe sleep apnea, and was a former meth addict (college years. The habit forced me to drop out of an engineering degree on my 3rd year.) A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with severe anxiety, depression, and PTSD. I was taking a progressive dose of anti-depressants. The meds were supposed to make me feel somehow confident and uplifted- and was supposed to help me cope with my OCD as well. It made me feel OK at first but later on it made me feel empty and suicidal. After a while of taking it, I found myself no longer enjoying that things that I used to enjoy- like making art, designing merchandise, and cooking. I suspect these activities are somehow tied to my OCD. I spoke to my family doctor about it and she suggested that perhaps I should try natural means of defeating my mental illness such as exposure therapy and exercise. Due to my plantar fasciitis and joints, back, and knees problem- the only exercise that she would allow me to do was swimming. Thanks to my social anxiety- I abhor swimming. July 2015. My 15 yr old girl and 6 yr old boy joined a Muay Thai gym in our area. Driving them and picking them up from the gym became my exposure therapy of sorts. I like the vibe but was very hesitant because I always had the mindset that I was not made for sports. At the urging of my wife and kids (we live in a tiny apartment and, thanks to my severe apnea, they can't stand my snoring anymore) I decided to join them. My doctor was against it but I was born a rebel so I persevered and I found that I thoroughly enjoyed the sport. I have since lost more than 20 lbs and I continue to burn anywhere between 1-3 lbs per week. My relationship with my wife and family is now waaaay better and I no longer need my prescription. Being physically fit changed my life. [Here's my Before and After photo. 5 months difference.](<URL>) Sorry I have to watermark it, I don't want to fall prey to those with mercenary motives who steal photos like this and use it for their own profit. [This is me hitting the heavy bag with my wife.](<URL>)
[Me shadowboxing.](<URL>)
TL;DR An overweight, depressed, traumatized, and sick 35 year old father of four who never played sports his whole life tried Muay Thai and almost 6 months later became awesome. :-D
Edit: I violated Rule 4: Progress/Achievement posts require relevant information. Sorry mods! :-) *********Some information about myself:*********
Beginning (September 24, 2015) Sex, Weight, Height, and Age: [M, 200 lbs, 5""7, 34](<URL>)
Ending Sex, Weight, Height, and Age: [M, 178.6 lbs, 5""7, 35](<URL>)
*********Detailed diet and exercise routine:*********
I jumpstarted my diet change by [eating nothing but sardines with rice and olives](<URL>) (and a lot of greens) for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the entire month of November 2015. From December onwards- I pretty much eat anything that I cook and serve my kids but in moderation (I have a Filipino background and we consume a lot of rice. I used to eat more than 2 cups per meal but now I'm down to 1). I have my cheat days on Fridays and have pizza and soda. On Saturdays I workout even if I don't really have to so I can eat my Tim Horton's chocolate dip donut. I drink a medium sized 1 cream 1 sugar coffee in the morning and sometimes at night as well. I smoke marijuana 10 minutes before workout and throughout the day actually. I still smoke the occasional cigarette but I can now go for days without it. I have four kids and a business to run so I sleep anywhere between 3-6 hours only every night. *********Exercise routine:*********
Monday, Wednesday, Friday: Muay Thai conditioning and some bag/pad work
Saturday: Light warm up and some bag work
What is Muay Thai conditioning? It varies but basically it's about 45minutes - 1hour of nonstop workout followed by about half an hour of hitting the pads or the heavy bag. Here's a sample workout:
Warm up routine:
*3-10 minutes skipping rope or 10-20 minutes run
*3 sets of 40 jumping jacks, 40 front back front, 40 alternating knees, 40 right kick ups, 40 left kick ups, 15 jump squats
Heavy bag routine:
*4 sets of 25 right swing kicks, 25 left swing kicks, 25 right push kicks, 25 left push kicks, 50 speed jabs and cross punches. [ Here's a video of me and my wife doing 50 swing kicks each each leg](<URL>). *********Here are some tips that help me get from point A to point B.*********
* BE TRUE TO YOURSELF. I admitted to myself that I was sick and I needed help. And so I did admit and I did it publicly. I joined Movember on 2014 and [I blogged about my struggle on my own business website](<URL>). Some people thought that it would be the end of my business career for coming out like that but instead my business received more interest. Nobody joined me on my Movember campaign though. * USE SOCIAL MEDIA. Let your intent be known. I always wanted to be fit but the attachment to my bad habits was strong. When I was trying to quit smoking, I read somewhere that it would be helpful if you let your family and friends know that you're quitting. There's a psychology behind this but that's beyond my area of expertise. So on November 2015 I participated in Movember once more and told my followers in Facebook about it. I also made a cringe-worthy [Movember day 1 video](<URL>). I only managed to get 1 MoBro supporter- my personal trainer but that was enough to motivate me. * ADD SOME GIMMICK. The more dramatic the better. It's fun for you (and your audience and those around you will react positively!). Example: [I ate nothing but sardines with rice and olives](<URL>) for breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday for the entire month of November. [ I skipped rope with PVC rope wearing my suit and tie](<URL>). There are other crazy stuff that I did but the idea is to push yourself and enjoy doing it. * INVOLVE YOUR LOVED ONES. Be an inspiration to each other. Actually, in my case, my wife and kids involved me. My kids are so into Muay Thai that my 6y/o asked me to make him a [Youtube channel dedicated to Muay Thai](<URL>). My 15 y/o girl can't wait to fight in the ring, and even our [2 y/o twins are active in the gym](<URL>). Edit 2: 50 kicks each leg for a total of 100 kicks per person. Edit 3: Trying to fix formatting to make it more readable. I'm fail at this. Also added a couple of words for clarity."
s_2215_234,"You make very good points and I agree completely. I do feel like I deserve to be loved. Just that I can't do it myself, I don't particularly hate myself, to be clear. But I could be much better, I can do much better. I'm not there yet. How do I love myself when I am not good enough for myself? Sorry my brain breaks down typing all these meta thoughts."
s_71_327,I have to force myself to eat. I'm never hungry anymore. I don't know if it's my depression or anxiety.
s_2456_697,I feel like I've accomplished something now.
s_993_478,I feel empty and bored with life. I feel like a burden on my parents. They say that I help them with all tech issues. But that's not doing much. Even a 2 year old is tech savvy these days. Earlier I was not open with them with regards to my state of mind. After I confessed and having diagnosed as bipolar. I feel like a burden more than ever.
s_1551_240,"Can depression cause low sex drive? I have been dealing with low self esteem and low confidence for a long time now, but I have this feeling like I want to have more sex but I just dont feel good enough or ready to get back out there. Ive spent the better part of 2 years trying to focus on self improvement and only had sex twice in that time, both times I just didnt get as excited as I used to. Should I just force myself into it more? Im only 23 man.."
s_976_850,"So I'm at an age where I have some disposable income, I like good sex with myself and my husband and I'm insatiably curious. It has already started paying for itself ;)"
s_156_466,I loved the movie hated the ending....I see movies to escape the depressing and hard realities of life not enhance the ones I already have! Now Im not only worrying about myself and my future but a made up characters future! I really hope everything with Ned and MJ get fixed in the next movie. I so miss the old Spiderman with the stark suit and support he had from family and friends! It was nice to know that things can get better and all can work out in the end!
s_3028_526,"I completely understand where you are coming from. Suicide was an exit plan for me. I decided I needed to do the best thing for my sanity; it's not that I wanted to do it, but I needed peace. However, religious beliefs definitely can influence choices. My counsellor basically talked me out of it, saying we could ERP and I could take medicine. What medicine are you taking? Are you open about your OCD or do you only tell select people? Any advice for telling my family?"
s_993_1037,At night I become a bit positive. It's the morning I hate most. At least that's what it is like right now. I have just left a job and am going to join a new one and there's time in between. I wake up at mid afternoon and finally manage to brush my teeth at night. Whatever little energy I can have is at night.
s_2625_465,"Yeah, I'm pretty much the same way. More stress = more acne. I have pretty bad anxiety so I'm taking medication (I'm taking 50mg of sertaline for anxiety/depression) and it's reduced some stress. So my only suggestion is to reduce the anxiety somehow, either through lifestyle changes or medication. Also, you should try to get 8 hours of sleep - I started taking melatonin at night since I sometimes have trouble getting to bed on time."
s_705_31,"Better alternative to Straterra: Edronax Edit: If you are in the US you can get a prescription from your doctor or psych and order from Canadian pharmacies and they will ship it to the US as it is unscheduled here. Recently I came across reboxetine searching for ADHD meds across the world. Reboxetine is a NRI same as straterra but better in every way. It is far more specific in action so less side effects and it starts working in an hour, or at least it did for me. This was the missing puzzle piece. I feel focused and motivated, I can actually feel my emotions and I can think fast. The downsides: My sleep was interrupted for the past five days but now it is leveling off as I can finally follow the sleep hygiene habits everyone talks about and I take properly dosed Valerian root and lemon balm. But keep in mind for a week or two your sleep will be screwed. The only other side effect I have noticed but I actually really like is that my sex drive is gone. My serum testosterone levels are as high as they have ever been but a haze over my thoughts has lifted. This is also a possible side effect of stimulants due to increased Norepinephrine. Though for disclosures sake I also have high functioning autism and the accompanying hyper sexual trait. Everyone is different but the meds below and the combination of them work specifically for me. The real difference so far has been the Reboxetine but I think I need the stimulant for the full effect. My current regimen; Vyvanse 40 mg (Still titrating up) Intuniv 1 mg once nightly at 8 pm (Still titrating up) Edronax 2 mg twice daily once at 7 in the morning once at 7 at night. Idra-21 10 mg every other day Melatonin 5mg slow release, Same time as intuniv, (When I can get it Slenyto the 10 hour release formulation for autism) 1900 mg Valerian Root, 8 pm Following ADHD study guidelines for body weight. 950 mg Lemon Balm, 8 pm Same as above. L-Theanine 100 mg as needed for sleep."
s_1933_287,"Depression has a way of ruining everything in your life. It's not just being sad, it's being apathetic and unmotivated. I have very little energy for basic day-to-day activities and this took a lot out of me."
s_2401_23,I'm lacking concentration and having trouble remembering my lessons
s_1812_191,For my next trick i'm going to kill myself
s_2286_168,"Investigators say three men got on the train with the 18-year-old victim and started shouting, ""You don't belong here"" and ""Donald Trump."" Police say they tried to pull the hijab off her head before she got off at the 42nd Street-Grand Central station. People NY1 spoke were sickened to hear about it. ""I feel bad. I feel sad. I feel angry,"" said one New Yorker. "" But ever since our president-elect has been elected, my God, he's bringing out a lot of these individuals."" ""It's a reflection of our election,"" said another."
s_2408_44,"Thanks again. I consider it an ""up"" cycle when I can get out of bed and have a shower. Sometimes I have enough energy to do the dishes or a bit of laundry and it is awesome! I will definitely try to find another doctor. Doing something (anything) to this effect has been my main goal for the past two weeks. That and going to work, of course. Today I failed miserably on that one."
s_356_141,She's just the girl of my dreams and is so extremely important to me. I've been dealing with depression for most my life. It's so hard to wake up in the morning. I just have such an overwhelming sense of dread. I just can't stop crying. It hurts so much. I'm a fucking mess right now. Thank you so much for your words. I means a lot.
s_170_25,"Oh man, my grandmother made me eat SO MUCH FOOD today! Including fried catfish, which was so so good but I felt so guilty about it. But I turned down cake, pie and candy. I was so proud of myself!! Till I got to my mother in law's house and totally caved. Ate so much candy and chocolate. I'm so disappointed in myself because I just got fully keto adapted last week and I'm pretty sure I ruined that today. Oh well, here's to another new day and a fresh start!"
s_2815_225,"My sunflower seeds started talking to me last month. I couldnt believe it; Id been lonely for such a long time. It felt good to have friends. I bet it was my mom who asked them to keep me company. I miss her terribly. The clearest memory I have of Mom was when she told me that all the beauty in the world grows from something small. I was helping her in the garden, and wed just planted sunflowers. My favorite. A couple days later, she showed me the tiny, burgeoning sprouts that would eventually become the towering, yellow flowers I loved so much. She repeated what she told me about beauty. I remember being amazed. Id wake up every morning and head outside and check their progress. Each time, they were a little bit bigger. Then there was an accident. After that, I didnt have a mom anymore. Dad and I scattered her ashes in the garden right when the sunflowers were at their most radiant. It took years for me to realize how much Moms death had affected me. I just thought I was a sad person in general, since Id known the feeling for so long. It didnt cross my mind that Id been traumatized and might need help beyond basic counseling. By the time I considered it, I was pretty far gone. The sunflower seeds started talking at an important time for me. Id lost all hope of being happy again. Dad and I didnt speak. I had no friends. I spent all my time alone in my bedroom, wishing I was anywhere else. Anyone else. Id developed a bad habit of using a pushpin to make small cuts and punctures in my arms and legs. They made me feel just a little bit better, but I still cried whenever I did it. On that special day, after a particularly painful cut, I heard the chorus of small voices coming from the table:
Dont be sad. I jumped. I was alone in the house. Dad was working his first shift and still had another one to go. He wouldnt be home for another 14 hours. Again:
Dont be sad. Its a beautiful day outside! A small package of sunflower seeds sat on the surface of my desk. They were a snack Id bought on the last day of school. Id eaten a handful that afternoon and forgotten about them. Theyd been sitting there for a week. I wiped my eyes and stood over the desk. Inside the plastic, I could see all the sunflower seeds standing up. Hi Rachel! I jumped again. The seeds wiggled in their bag, almost like they were waving. Confused curiosity overcame my alarm. I assumed I was going crazy. Sunflower seeds dont talk to sane people. But they were talking to me. There was something comforting about them, too. Something familiar. I felt a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. The sting of the cut on my upper arm brought me back to reality. It was about as deep as the pushpin was long. A thin rivulet of blood drooled down to my elbow. It was so ugly. Almost on cue with the thought, the sunflower seeds began to comfort me. Oh Rachel, its not ugly. It was just a mistake! Dont worry - it will heal and youll forget all about it! Their kind words were in stark contrast to the wound. Its edges were puffy and red, making it look angry. And it hurt. I didnt know how something so small could be so hideous. From the desk below, the seeds continued their praise and support. Amid the voices and my own considerable confusion and discomfort, an old memory resurfaced - one Id kept below the surface for over ten years. All the beauty in the world grows from something small. The sentence echoed within my mind, bouncing and twirling and floating, as I considered its meaning and implications . The sunflower seeds watched my contemplation in silence. A minute later, I knew. I reached to pick one up as the rest of them burst into cheers of joy. I inspected the seed for a moment, then pushed it into the puncture as far as it would go. A sensation of blissful contentment unlike anything Id ever experienced suffused through me. My eyes closed. Behind my eyelids, I was four years old again. Mom stood in front of me, beautiful and tall in her shorts and tank top and gardening gloves. Her smile shone down as she spoke her poignant, memorable words, and pointed her gloved fingers at the barely-visible sprouts pushing out of nourishing soil. I lifted my eyelids to the sight of a plain, gray seed poking from the raised edges of my puncture wound like an engorged tick. Before I could tell myself how ugly it was, I stopped. I remembered what Mom said. The seeds on the desk cheered louder. Two long, summer days went by. I spoke to the seeds and they spoke back. We made plans together. We talked about the future. Id covered the one in my arm with a piece of gauze. On the morning of the third day, the seeds asked me to take off the bandage. I did with trepidation, which turned out to be entirely misplaced. Inside the swollen, wrinkled edges of the puncture, a tiny, fragile sprout lay curled. When the light from the room hit the sprout, it slowly stood. It was indescribably beautiful. Feeling better than Id ever felt, I stabbed the pin into myself over and over and over. Arms, legs, belly, shoulders. The only tears I shed were ones of happiness. I planted each seed with diligence and care. Days went by. The hundred-or-so holes in me grew wider as the seeds sprouted and grew. I sat on my bed in front of the window to make sure they got enough sun. I heard Dad come and go from his jobs, leaving food for me without ever knocking or saying hello. I was grateful; I didnt want to be bothered. Seed-sized holes became fingertip-sized holes. Fingertip-sized holes became quarter-sized holes. They all leaked, and none smelled particularly good. I remembered how Mom had used fertilizer in the garden that smelled terrible. It was always worth it. I stopped keeping track of the days and only concentrated on the sprouts. They were all healthy and growing. All but one near my navel. It had turned brown and was wilting. The other sprouts told me it couldnt be saved. Id have to remove it or else theyd all get sick. I started the process of pulling the foot-long plant out of my abdomen. I felt and heard ripping sounds as the roots were torn from within. The pain was immense. When it was all done, there was a shallow hole in my belly the size of my palm. It was streaked with white and yellow paste that smelled terrible. I spent some time wiping it away. Afterward, all the sprouts thanked me. Another long period passed by. Maybe a month. I woke up today to the first blossom on one of the sprouts. It was the tallest of them all, sticking out almost three feet from my shoulder. All the days leading up to this, I felt excitement. Today, though, Im too weak to feel anything. It took almost an hour for me to get out of bed. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was home to nearly 80 healthy plants, all between one and three feet tall. Root systems under my skin ran in complex patterns, bringing nourishment to the heavy, healthy sunflower stalks. We had a long conversation as I sat, barely able to eat the breakfast Dad had left for me. We came to an agreement. Im using the last bit of energy I have to write this. When Im done, Ive agreed to go out and sleep in the garden. I cant believe I spent years feeling sad. Feeling ugly. Feeling like I didnt have a purpose. Even though Mom died when I was young, shed told me all I needed to know in one, perfect sentence. Now Im going to go out and sleep in the same soil she used to bring beauty in the world. The soil where shes slept for the last ten years. I get to be with her again, and the world gets a new crop of sunflowers. Beautiful things that grow from something small. Just like [me](<URL>)."
s_1768_51,"Thanks :-) Took my first one last night and certainly noticed the drowsiness. I slept pretty well. Taking one this morning will let me know what I am in for during the day, at least I am not in work today!"
s_1210_72,"My brother has it, but I don't. I just can't focus"
s_1551_325,"I do hear that a lot, starting small. But it doesnt feel like its enough, and I gotta force myself to do more and be better. And if I dont Im worthless. Like every little detail has to be perfect. I get burned out or just feel paralyzed mentally and cant get myself to do anything. My body is injured and I want myself to be able to perform normally but I cant and its frustrating. Its been like this for years and most of those years I didnt do anything for them because of onset depression from these injuries. Feeling incapable of doing things I should be able to normally. Maybe Im trying to play catch up and make up for lost time, or expect more out of myself than humanly possible but I just dont know how else to think"
s_1983_450,"I don't think I love pro wrestling anymore? And I'm pretty sad about it. I turned 40 today, and I'm trying to watch televised matches. I loved pro wrestling for awhile, until I couldn't really watch anymore. I remember bottle feeding my daughter watching Shane McMahon on Nitro, jumping around freaking out. But I always couldn't watch, eventually I stopped. The past 4-6 years I've been trying to get back into it, and I've had hard opinions before on it. But it's starting to not interest me, and it makes me sad. I'm not shitting on any company, I've tried. But I guess I'm holding on memories from being a young adult? I don't know, I have so many childhood memories with this, along with family I don't have anymore. I hate that it's starting not to interest me anymore. I just want to feel excited again over wrestling. I don't know why I don't feel that way anymore?"
s_1024_41,"There Can't be Two People Living in This Room There Cant Be Two People Living in This Room
Is this a help me post? My prideful side says it isnt but that guys an asshole; help me. ******
Ill get straight to it. Theres someone else in this room. How do I know this? I find her hair every day in places that range from meh to what the hell?, if that makes any sense. Ive also found her journal. I know, I know; narrator-finds-spooky-journal-in-room-events-begin-to-unravel-BOOM-Paranormal Activity
Its not like that, I promise. *****
Maybe I should start from the beginning
My commander moved me into this room in a rush. Yes, Im in the Army and this is a barracks room. Its meant for two people to coexist in with very little privacy; two beds, two desks, two lamps, two trash cans, two sinks, two night stands, one toilet, one shower, one door, one window. Two closets. Two closets that lock. Theres the shred of privacy this room offers: a closet that locks. That said, Im the only one in here. Well, at least I thought I was. The day I moved in here, I inventoried the room. Inventoried is a trumped-up phrase that basically means I looked around the room to make sure it was suitable for human usage and then threw all my shit in the closet and went to bed. I think I signed for the room and everything in it, but then again I may not have. All I really know is that I sleep here. And I havent been sleeping well. I remember that the first morning I woke up here, I got out of bed, went to the bathroom, got in the shower, and proceeded to pull one very long, black hair out from behind my ear as I scrubbed my head. I have red hair. I am a male. Males in the Army arent allowed to have hair that sheds at almost 10 inches in length. Thus bringing me to the conclusion that this was a females hair. I brushed the occurrence off; Im married and know the perturbation that is finding my wifes hair literally everywhere all too well. I told myself, It must have come from somewhere. Ill just deep clean the room and vacuum and get rid of all of it, even if I cant see it. So I did. Its called a G.I. Party and basically you strip the room bare of furniture and go to town on that motherfucker with a mop, scrub brush, some water, some bleach, and some carpet cleaner. Everything gets a good coating of water and bleach (maybe Pine Sol if youre really trying hard), the carpet gets scrubbed by hand, and then you rinse everything off and let it dry for a couple hours before you hit the carpet with a vacuum and then move all the furniture back in. Clean as a whistle, right? Obviously not. I woke up the next morning and got in the shower. There was a single, long, black hair stuck to the wall of the shower. I know it wasnt there before. But there it was. A few nights later, I noticed that this room really gets dark. I mean, like, cant-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face dark. This is an odd observation, because this barracks is notorious for soldiers putting up black out curtains on their windows in light, literally, of the fact that the windows sit situated in that perfect position where the sun blinds you in the morning as it comes up, and burns you up in the evening as it sets. But not my room. It gets *dark* in this motherfucker. Weird, right? Its a bit ominous to be housed in a room that seems to relish the pitch black, and Ill admit that, every so often, I wonder if theres something moving behind the black veil that envelopes this room every night. *Okay*, Ive thought to myself, *this rooms a bit unsettling, but youre a reasonable person, do the math. Work the problem.* Alright, the room can be opened one of two ways: either by card key, kind of like a hotel, or by hard key, like any normal door. Okay, Im the only one with a hard key other than the master that all the sergeants have. But is a sergeant coming in this room and leaving her hair in my shower, one strand at a time? Answer: most likely not; none of the female sergeants in this company know where Im staying because Im just assigned here temporarily. Plus, thats weird and I cant see a sergeant doing that to be creepy. Theres way too many Army regulations against being a creep, anyway. So maybe its another regular soldier whos getting in with their access card or something; maybe someone who stayed in this room who can still get in? Answer: The card reader is broken. I put in a request for the batteries to be changed in it but the maintenance guy said the thing is just broken and needs to be replaced. So nobodys getting in that way. So, thus far, my conclusions led me to a fairly solid understanding that I am one of very few people who can get through this door and that there are even fewer who would do so for some dubious reason like leaving their long, black hairs scattered about. Hell, I dont even think theres a black-haired member of the cadre in this company anyway. Yet I keep finding hair. Sometimes it'll be in my boot. Other times, I'll find it hanging limply from the back of one of the chairs. I'll find the hair in a pocket of a uniform, or, more disturbingly, laying across my face when I wake up. Moving on. Then comes the third observation: Something or someone pissed on my bedding, and it wasnt me. I woke up two mornings ago to the extremely strong and familiar scent of urine. Ive worked in EMS and around animals enough to know what piss smells like. This particular aroma was a combination of dehydrated human and very rotten, old cat. It was gross. The issue was that when I went to bed, my bedding didnt smell like that. And, on top of that, I didnt even use the bedding that night; I slept under my woobie, which any respectable Army member knows all about. I love my woobie. CIF can go fuck themselves if they think Im turning it back in when I ETS. But yeah, my blankets absolutely reeked of this hybrid urine stink. I threw them in the trash yesterday. I can deal with most gross stuff, but piss-ruined things just go in the garbage, fuck salvaging them. The smell usually never washes out anyway, so why bother? Now, I certainly didnt piss on the bedding. And I doubt that any sergeant from this company, wearing a wig of long, black hair and carrying one very old and dehydrated cat, did either. So who did? Heres my guess: Amy-Lynn did it. *Who the hell is Amy-Lynn?!,* you may be asking. Amy-Lynn left her journal in this room. Amy-Lynn may also have left herself in this room. Her journal starts off innocently enough, chronicling her decision to join the military and how proud she wanted to make her family and young daughter. I honestly felt bad for opening her private notebook, but she turned out to be a pretty good and coherent writer and I sort of enjoyed reading her journey through the initial entry into the military. At some point, though, she started to have trouble. She fought. She had an attitude with the cadre. She got fired from leadership positions. She fought some more. She missed home. She had to write essays on the importance of discipline. She missed home some more. It got pretty rough for her, from the look of it. But that happens to everybody, in some fashion when you're just starting out; I knocked a kid out in BCT because he refused to pronounce my name correctly. Still dont know why that mattered so much to me at the time, but fuck if he was going to screw my name up anymore on purpose, you know? Yeah, anyway, Amy-Lynn *really* started going through some shit, though. Her notes started to ramble. Her handwriting got worse. She started journalling later and later at night (she time stamped every note). And she started forgetting words in sentences; a misplaced the, or absent, and, occurring more frequently. Im not sure what exactly was happening with her, but to me it seems a little bit like a mental break. Like she just couldnt process everything fast enough and stuff started to snowball on her, you know? Her last entry fumbled through an account of how she fought with her roommate and the other girl ended up getting switched to a different barracks room because of it. So Amy-Lynn ended up alone in this room, at some point, while dealing with what I believe to be a psychotic melt down. As far as I know, these barracks have been here for at least 10 years, and the females stopped living anywhere but the fourth floor about 3 years ago. Which means Amy-Lynn lived in this room from anywhere between 2006 to 2013. I sincerely hope she has not been in this room that long. For her sake and mine. Mainly mine. Fuck this room gets dark. Ive got my computer brightness turned down so it doesnt burn my retinas out, but it sincerely feels like Im typing this from the inside of a black velvet box. And all the while I get the feeling that there are eyes on the other side of the room; watching and waiting. Watching and waiting. Can you help me figure this out? Anything would be appreciated."
s_103_236,"I also have sleeping problems - major insomnia, trouble falling asleep and trouble staying asleep. Dogs only make things worse. Its her dog, and she knows you have sleep issues. She needs to take the dog out when it alerts that it needs to be let out. Id be so infuriated"
s_1404_111,What should I do? I have so many mental issues. Im physically tired. You know that feeling when waking up early and you are too weak to get out of bed? that feeling I have during the day. I always feel weak and tired. Not only im physically tired but also mentally. All I do is sleeping and gaming which im addicted to. My summer break ends very soon and im afraid im not gonna make it this year of studying. I have no energy and I am unable to be productive for more than 3 minutes what should I do?
s_3047_140,"My life is still too complicated I've changed my life completely in the past 9 years; went from a corporate retail job to being a freelance writer, moved from a 3/2/1 house to eventually this 520 sf apartment. I went from 1/4 acre lot to about 250 sf of garden space. I no longer own a car, so walk, bus and ride a bike (hadn't been on one in 20 years before this) everywhere. I spend less then $200 a month for food most months. I have very, very few clothes (down from two closets full previously), one good pair of jeans, and one good pair of walking shoes. Yesterday, I got tired of washing eating utensils, so I put away all but 2 of everything except I kept out 9 spoons, because that's mostly what I eat with. I don't really need 9 spoons, but I don't want to have to keep washing them all day, so 9 it is. I share a small community garden plot close by, and I've gotten to where I hate going there, because it's just one more chore I have to do. I had huge plans for planting my courtyard but instead, I've decided to lay out an area for a few favorite plants, then fill the rest in with mulch because it's just something I have no interest in anymore. I sometimes pick up things I think I'll eventually need or can use from beside the apartment dumpsters, but lately, I've been taking dumpster finds back out to the dumpster, because I want space more than I want stuff. I think a lot about getting rid of it all and going to live in a van, traveling around the country, because I've never really seen the U.S. due to no money to travel. I don't know how long I could do that, but every time I have to do a deep clean of the apartment because it's gotten a little out of hand, I think how nice it must be only to have a tiny little van full of the essentials of life. Just now, while I was watering my indoor plants, I thought ""I should just give all of these away. What good are they to me, really?"" Plants and gardening used to be my life, and now it just seems like work. It's all just so much to take care of! My neighbor was shocked I don't have a washer and dryer, and I told her it's just one more thing to break and have to get fixed. She didn't understand how I can stand going to the laundry room to do my laundry, but I explained to her that I have so few clothes and linens now that I can do it all in two loads once a week. I wish I could do it in one. If I lived in a van, I could do it in one. I look at everything in here every day and think ""I don't need this or that or that or ..."" you get the idea. I have 5 frying pans. Who the hell needs 5 frying pans? I used to love my things, and to a point, I still do, but more and more, they are just things to take care of and things that require space that I don't want to clean and take care of. If I didn't have all these things, I wouldn't need all this space. Am I going insane, or does anyone else feel this way?"
s_2215_612,"Is it weird that I don't have anybody in my life that I really like? I know how this sounds but **I'm NOT depressed or suicida**l or anything like that. But this might be triggering for some people who are depressed so this is your warning to go away. I'm also not feeling sad or angry either. I just had this thought in the shower. I don't really like anyone in my life that much. I mean I've my mom and my sister who I live with, they are fine I guess but I'm not particularly attached to them. I don't think they are bad people but I don't LOVE them as such. I don't think we're very compatible. If I were to go somewhere, I don't think I'd call them or miss them as such. I also have a few friends, not many but a couple. I'm not particularly mad about them either. I don't think I'd mind if I we stop being friends or something. Again, just to be clear, they are also nice people and I don't hate them. But not nice enough to really like them either. I don't have any love interests but I don't think about it everyday. I'm not really looking for anyone either. I don't feel lonely or alone. I am not as robotic as this may sound, this is not a rant about how I hate everyone, I just think it's weird that there's no one I really like in my 20 years of existence on this planet. I do intend to fall in love and get married and start a family someday who I will come to love and cherish every single day but not in the present. At this moment, there's no one I truly like. Is this normal?"
s_1116_426,I'd certainly kill myself.
s_804_829,My boyfriend and I dabble in fluid art! The one to the left of me in the picture is by him. The one on the right is mine. Its been about three weeks of not getting a full nights sleep. Im very tired. Edit: spelling
s_2584_3,"a 47 year old that is still depressed and suicidal i managed to get through last fall/winter. this fall feels different. i've been majorly depressed and suicidal since April of this year. i've literally slept weeks/months away, called a hotline, and pushed friends and family out of my life. i've let my health insurance lapse. today was a day of thinking about letters for my eventual suicide. i started writing texts, but ended up deleting them. then i ate. i don't remember the last time i laughed. i keep trudging through every year alone and single. i'm one of those 47 year old dudes that has never been married or had kids. it was by choice. i can't fathom another 10, 20, or 30 years in this state. i can't believe i made it this long. i simply want to die."
s_993_130,I am at that medium place . Dont know if I was hypomanic earlier. But right now I just feel restless and weird. I can do things but still won't. I just want to feel someting. The emotions I feel now feels fake. Like I am acting . I feel nothing.
s_1978_1055,"They're incomprehensible, illogical and erratic. But these are my thoughts and I want to share them. Tell me what its like to look in the mirror and hate everything that you see. Tell me how it feels to know that for every second of happiness you are going to have an hour of suffering. What does it feel like to look around yourself, see the people that care for you, but theyre so far away. You scream and yell and cry but they cant hear you. Theyre looking, looking for you. Where did you go? What happened to the happy little boy that lived life to the fullest? Why am I so tired, tired of this world and this life? Every snide remark and ignorant comment feels like a punch to the gut. Im being eaten alive by a disease whose first mission is to knock out your communications. You cant tell anyone about the dark cocoon youre wrapped in. Wave after wave it crashes down on you, youre drowning, gasping for air. In between the waves you might be lucky enough to see a bit of sunshine, but only for an instant before your sight is robbed from you once more. What is a life without true happiness? Where the best feeling is no feeling at all, and sleep is the only real escape? Can a person really be blamed for wanting to escape such a hopeless place? What is living if it is simply out of guilt for the pain you would cause loved ones? If only I had gotten help sooner."
s_2139_196,"I feel like a burden My mental health has decline significantly in the last few months. With friends and family I try to stay positive and ask them about their day before they ask me about mine, because I decided to no longer lie when it comes to how I feel. For so long I said I was good when I wasnt. But now it feels like every conversation ends with them asking me how I am me saying I am depressed but still getting by and then them giving me advice for an hour. I feel like I am making things negative and wasting peoples time. Even though I know they love me. But I am always depressed I am in an episode. What can I say. Im so suicidal. Im trying my best."
s_1021_34,"The Lighthouse Keeper's Journal: Winter of 1842 [Part 1] Part 2 has been edited into this part, due to the length. A Note from the Author:
*These are the journal entries of Bruno Frei. They were found hidden away at the top of a lighthouse that is located on a barren cliff in Canada. As it was written in 1842, the short passages have been slightly modified so that they are easier to read in modern English. Finally, the events that took place that winter are not proven and should not be taken as fact; these could very well be hallucinations or writings to pass the time.* ___
__December 27, 1842__
The days go by and the hope of leaving seems to fade. The cold has started to permeate through the walls. I ask my Otto what we should do about our situation, even though I know that the question is meaningless. The repetition I face everyday makes me want to fall from sanity. We are stuck. We are stuck. ___
__December 28, 1842__
I suppose I should write out our backgrounds. Yesterday I was not in the right state of mind. I am Bruno Frei, of German descent and Otto Jans also is of German descent. We both were immigrated to Canada and we were living well for a while. And then we found ourselves without work and thus here we are, as lighthouse keepers. Fifteen days heretofore a massive ice storm struck the lighthouse and froze the water. Otto and I are cut off from the rest of the world until winter ends and the ice thaws. We have so many days until spring. ___
__December 29, 1842__
I am writing todays entry in the lamplight after todays event had already taken place. I am going to be frank; Ottos mind is starting to deteriorate. This morning I woke up to find Otto already awoken. He was staring out of the single window on the ground floor. Even from across the room I could hear his heavy breathing. But I ignored the signs of a man who had gone mad and traveled across the room to eat a breakfast of stale bread. As I slowly ate the bread I heard him grunt and say, Dont touch my bloody journal. I bit the side of my mouth in confusion and replied, I never touched your stuff. I woke up an hour ago and it wasnt beside my bed. So I searched everywhere in this lighthouse to no avail. And do you want to know where you put it? Out in the snow. I repeat, do not touch anything of mine. And do not (at this point, Otto was nearly shouting) put anything out in the snow! I figured saying anything would just make the situation worse, so I said nothing. Today I assumed the duties of maintaining the main light of the lighthouse. Every other day Otto and I would switch. Today he had to do nothing, which was a terrible thing. Boredom can be horrific. The view from the top of the tower was awe striking at one point, but now the constant swell of snow prevents me from seeing farther than a couple strides from the tower. Around an hour past sunset I climbed up the short ladder to a small nook in ceiling. In it I kept various pictures that I drew to keep myself from becoming insane. But today they werent there. Jumping to a conclusion, I thought that this was revenge for what I had supposedly done to Otto. So I stormed down the narrow spiral staircase and found Otto sleeping on the ground. I furiously roused him awake and after having a tense conversation with him, I decided he didnt do anything to my papers. I can tell when he lies. So today, I managed to steal Ottos journal and have my drawings get stolen. I cannot wait to leave. Spring must come sooner. ___
__December 30, 1842__
What is going on? There are voices. They say, 1827. What is Otto doing? ___
__December 31, 1842__
He says that he heard them to, but I think he is just trying to frighten me. The way he holds himself is of confidence. I am writing this entry at breakfast today, I dont want to deal with writing down how Otto frightens me today. It just makes me more fearful. Across from the small table Otto is trying to make small talk, but I cant talk to someone who is doing this to me. I am putting this journal away. What is Otto doing? ____
__January 1, 1843__
Otto does not like me anymore. Every time I say something to him he just stares at me and mumbles something back. Is he hiding something? But I have my suspicions. For the past two days and today various things around the lighthouse are being moved around. There was a ball of rope that normally rested on a shelf on the way up to the top of the tower. On the 30th, that rope was untangled around the ground floor. Otto feigned innocence, but I know it was he. It had to be. On the 31st, a butcher knife we had was stabbed into the wood lining the window. When I pulled it out, I noticed that the knife pierced out of the lighthouse to the outside world. I had to seal it up, by shoving some fabric into the thin slice. Otto feigned innocence to that. And on the 1st of the New Year, which was today, I awoke with no blankets covering me at all. It was in the dead of night. There were no lights on. The lighthouse creaked in the wind. Footsteps seemed to sound from the floorboards. There was a small lamp that I kept beside me at night. I used to not keep a lamp there and then the voices started. I lit the lamp. Shadows danced due to the flickering of the lamp. Otto flipped over in his bed. My blankets were gone and there was no chance that I would go searching for them in the dark of night. When I awoke, Otto feigned innocence. He acted confused, he acted worried. He would make a good actor for a play. I searched through all of the rooms and did not find them. They were outside. A warm fire melted the snow off of them. Now, I am going to write this next part down in the hope that Otto does not read this journal. I think Otto is trying to get me to go mad. But what did I do to merit that? Does he think that this is a game? ___
__January 2, 1843__
I found something. I was up in the top of the tower today, working the light. In my boredom I was running my hand across the bricks on the wall, when my fingers ran into something along the wall. After a quick inspection of the brick I found out that it could swing open. A secret compartment. I opened the small compartment and in it a journal sat. I carefully pulled the slim book out of the compartment and gently inspected the outside. It was maroon which golden words printed on the front. A Book for Thoughts. It was a journal. I opened it up and written in elaborate lettering was the name Isaac Walker. I carefully fingered the frail paper and flipped to the next page. On the top was the date January 4. Then there was a rumbling of the metal staircase to the top of the tower. I hurriedly shoved the journal into the wall and properly hid it. Otto reached the top of the stairs just as I faked looking out the window at the constant blizzard. He growled softly, Whatve you been doing up here. Nothing, Otto, said I. He didnt believe me, but he let it drop. I am not going to go through the entire length of the conversation, but to sum it up he attempted to reconcile to me about the past few days. He never apologized for moving things around the lighthouse, but he apologized for the lack of talking. I dont know if this is petty, but I never apologized back. I will apologize when he stops moving things around in the night. ____
__January 3, 1843__
For the first time, nothing moved around last night. And today Otto and myself seemed to be at peace with one another. Nothing much happened at all. All day I was on edge that something was going to happen. There is such a tense feeling around the lighthouse today. ____
__January 4, 1843__
After dealing with the maintenance of the light I am ready to read the journal. I dont want to lose anything about the mysterious journal, so I will be copying everything down into this journal. And as the days line up, I will be reading a passage a day and writing it down into this journal. January 4, 1827
I am writing in this journal not in the hope that it will help me, but in the hope that I can record what is happening to me. Maybe this will help someone in the future. I am trying to stay calm, but it is getting harder as the days go on. Just as a quick insight into my situation, I am a lighthouse keeper trapped inside my lighthouse alone. Things are moving around uncontrollably. I hear voices and they seem to say 1816. If I am going insane then so be it. But I fear I am not. Tonight I am going to risk my supplies and my life. I will keep the lamps on all night. Something just fell down at the bottom of the tower.* The writing stops at that and I forgot to mention that most of the bread was relocated to the top of the tower as I slept. Otto he is still feigning innocence. But I am starting to wonder
___
__January 5, 1843__
Something happened, but I have not a clue why. Did Otto and myself anger the spirits? When I woke up, Otto and his bed were gone. There was an empty space where he previously was. I ran up the spiral staircase and there the bed was. It was hung using the rope off of the framework of the lighthouse. And Otto was tied to the bed. I panicked, but after a few minutes of hyperventilating I managed to calm myself down. At first I thought he was dead, but after using the ladder I untied him to find that he merely lost his consciousness. After we had both recovered the bed, we parted. He to the top of the tower and I to the bottom. For any future readers, I would like to say that although it sounds like that didnt frighten me, you are completely mistaken. I carried the journal down to the ground floor and hid it behind my bed the day before, so here goes:
January 5, 1827
The voices are driving me insane. <PHONE> 1816. Just moments ago all the lights had gone out; including the main light for the lighthouse. None of the lamps down here worked, so I had to go to the top of the tower in the dark. Every step I took my fear grew. Must my brain be so faulted? When I reached the summit I saw a dark shape move, closer, closer, closer. But when I turned the light on, there was nothing. I swear by the light of the moon that I was not imagining anything. I fear I may not be able to muster the courage to go up to the top for a while. My emotions seem to be more important than my duty. I would like to write out that I am now pretty worried. What happened to him, could happen to me. ____
__January 6, 1843__
The voices have been driving me insane. All through the day and into the night. But a moment ago all the lights had gone out; including the main light for the lighthouse. None of the lamps down here worked, so I had to go to the top of the tower in the dark. Every step I took my fear grew. When I thought back to the journal my eyes got tear filled. Otto looks fine. I cannot concentrate. I am worried. I must continue writing this out. This could save someone yet to come. I have decided to quote the previous journal entry, as my experience is the same as he: Must my brain be so faulted? When I reached the summit I saw a dark shape move, closer, closer, closer. But when I turned the light on, there was nothing. I swear by the light of the moon that I was not imagining anything. I fear I may not be able to muster the courage to go up to the top for a while. My emotions seem to be more important than my duty. Otto may be the only Lighthouse Keeper. January 6, 1827
God save me. God save us all. I am trapped. I cannot leave. And I have found another journal from 1827. I cannot write my findings down. It is too much. I would rather hide the thoughts away, then write them out. I know my fate and I cannot change it. I am with tears. I almost feel like I cannot continue. Maybe I should light the lighthouse on fire? Then no one will have to suffer the same fate as I will. Hope must be kept. ____________
**January 7, 1843**
The journal from 1827 offers no clue to what his fate will be. I need to know, because I fear that I will have the same fate. I have read through the rest of the journal, only three more days, and it never mentions anything else frightening. Almost as if the writer lost his sanity. I am afraid I will not copy them down, because as mentioned before the writer mustve lost his mind. Just as an insight into my situation I am currently too scared to leave the ground floor. I fear that I have turned into a lady living in a mans body but I cannot help it. Otto spends his entire day at the peak and never mentions the day with the bed. My hair has started greying. From stress I assume. But the worst part of all of this is my left hand, which I seem to have lost control to. If I attempt to curl my hand into a fist, my fingers only slightly move. What could this be from? Cold has spread in from the frigid outside. My breath turns to steam as it exits mouth. How much longer will this suffering last? Will the ice ever melt? __________________
**January 8, 1843**
*Unfortunately, due to the lack of Jan. 8 we can only assume what must have happened. We can connect that this day was a horrible day for Bruno and that he likely lost much of his mind (as the state of the next entries shows that he was basically insane). Sadly, Bruno assaulted Otto on this day; which is referenced on Jan. 13.* ______
**January 9, 1843**
Stop! The madness. _______
**January 10, 1843**
What is happening to me? What am I doing? I cant remember anything. Something bad happened. What happened? I do not know. Whats wrong with this damned lighthouse? I do not know. ___________
**January 11, 1843**
He is back. Otto is back. Was he ever gone? He doesnt speak to me. Have I done something? I am starting to feel like my journals are my thoughts put into papers. They are so random, so crazed. Please God, please God
Can you help? ______
**January 13, 1843**
I know what happened, but I fear that my knowledge will die with me in a short amount of time. I have accepted my fate. I cannot escape it. I am going to go tell you the story of Thursday the 12th and of today, Friday the 13th, which happens to be the date of my impending death. Otto was recovering from a knife wound. Did he stab himself? Every time I went to aid him, he would hold up a knife in defense against me. As if I was the one who cut him. I have looked back in my entries and this mustve happened on the 8th, as there seems to be no pages. I cannot bring myself to believe that I did it. Suddenly, Otto tensed up and I did as he fearing the worst. And dear God, I shouldve been more scared than I was. And then I heard the noises. They were coming from the tower. They were getting closer and coming from the spiral staircase. Otto and myself looked to each other. I looked at him for assistance and he looked at me with anger. We couldnt go anywhere. So I did the only thing that I could possibly do. I ran outside. The evening sun shone from the horizon in all its glory. I could still hear the footsteps on the metal steps. I grasped my ears and collapsed down onto the ground. The sound still penetrated. And then there was a massive wave of sound, sounding like what I can only assume a gun does. I stood up shakily and made my way to behind the lighthouse. I was upset at everything. I was frigid in the outside and since the noises had stopped I went back inside. As soon as I got in the door shook behind me and shut, locking itself. I panicked and tried to escape; I couldnt. I sprinted up to the peak of the lighthouse and here I am now. Hours passed. Nothing happened. I locked the door into the top. God, help there, I hear the steps. They are the steps of the phantom. Each step I hear. With each step my death comes closer. The phantom has entered the body and mind of Otto. He is hunting me. I fear the phantom had gone into me on the 8th and I stabbed Otto. When Otto gets up here he will kill me and then he will bring the bloody blade to his chest and stab himself. It has happened before and will happen again. God damned life! Hes at the door. The door is (unreadable scribbles)
And here ends the Lighthouse Keepers Journal."
s_676_59,"Hello, this is my second round on Nexplanon. First time I was on nexplanon for around a year and it was amazing. I didn't have any periods or side effects. This time around is a little different. The only issue I seem to have is really bad breast tenderness/soreness. It is terrible, but it just started a little over a week ago so I'm hoping it is just hormones being whacky. :) Also, I didn't have my period on my first insert. I have had 1 period this insert and have skipped my most recent period which was due on the 15th. I am not sure if I'm having any emotional/ moody issues because I'm already a moody person, lol."
s_1030_236,"Everyone approaches sleep differently though. It might not help that I am a light sleeper and tend to wake up a lot during the night. If I do get a straight unbroken 8 I can function though, but that is rare as fuck for me. So I tend to need more."
s_2292_916,"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Could anyone with experience (whether as the therapist or client) and/or knowledge explain this to me? Apparently, CBT is supposed to help one cope with anxiety/depression/mood disorders/etc., and learn how to live a relatively normal life despite the condition(s). From what I've read and/or heard, its general purpose is to teach one how to live WITH the condition(s) instead of eliminating it/them. Right now, I'm losing a battle (and losing badly) between numerous anti-depressants and my anxiety/depression. Nothing's working. The only times I don't want to sob uncontrollably and crawl into a hole and never come out are when I'm sleeping. I rarely enjoy doing anything I normally like to do, so it's all but an impossibility for me to actually motivate myself to do something I *don't* want to do. Point is, I can't possibly fathom living with this and not feeling psychologically crippled. Living a normal life where I don't neglect my own personal hygiene, sleep 16 hours a day, and spend all my free time alone in a two-story house, brooding in the basement with all the lights off since it's the only room that doesn't have windows. Living with something that turned me into a prisoner of my own psyche is not something I can understand. It doesn't make sense and it doesn't seem possible-- as such, I feel like trying it would be a waste of time and money. Could someone try to convince me otherwise?"
s_2107_94,i sleep all night and i sleep all day. i have fatigue and exhaustion where i fall and can't walk.
s_1846_68,"Too Much At This Time This post will probably be a bit of a mess. Over the past couple of months I've started to realize that I'm relying too much on my pain medication to get me through days that I'm not having problems with my condition that I'm prescribed it for. I would like to stop using it altogether and try other pain management things but right now I'm too afraid that trying to do that will topple this proverbial card house that I've built. Nothing feels stable. I'm only 23 but it still worries me that I have no real direction in my life. My job is not a bad one but there is no option for moving up in the company from my position. I have just barely enough money to scrape by each month if I'm actually being responsible and most months I don't even make my student loan payment. I filed bankruptcy a few months ago and now I worry if anything happens to my car I won't be able to get another one. I have severe anxiety that I take medication for that tends to make me sleepy a lot so my energy level is almost a non-existent sliver on a graph. I think this makes me feel like a don't have the will to change things a lot of the time because I'm just too tired. I know my pills aren't really helping anything. They are supposed to be there for when my endometriosis symptoms flare up and I absolutely have to have something. But I'm taking them four or more times a week and have to really try hard not to take them more just because I'm having problems dealing with things in other areas of my life. I'm sure counseling might help but I'm too afraid that I really can't afford $50 just to go talk to someone for an hour. I was thinking about going to an NA meeting but I get anxious around groups of people larger than 3-ish and I feel like they might realize I'm not really ready to quit yet and call me out on it. I really wish I had a better support system. I do have my best friend, we are close and have been for about 13 years but she also struggles with things that make me worry about putting any more on her shoulders. I also have my boyfriend but we have only been dating for a little over 5 months and I worry about telling him how unstable I really feel. I'm not close with my family at all. I'm just not sure where to start making changes in my life and I'm afraid of trying to give up the one thing that helps me get through bad days with everything else I'm supposed to be dealing with. :(
Needless to say, I'm having a bit of a rough day."
s_3045_67,"Feel like my hypersomnia + chronic fatigue are making it impossible for me to stick with any kind of routine. Hi, /r/loseit! I stumbled upon this subreddit after browsing Reddit for a place where I could gain advice about my particular problem, and this seemed like a great place. So, I'll cut right to the chase - I have been obese for nearly my entire life. I won't get into specifics, but I am currently nearly 80 pounds overweight. I am embarrassed and ashamed of how far I have allowed my weight gain to progress. I've tried quite a few different tactics, but I have a difficult time sticking to any fitness routine for more than a couple of weeks due to the fact that I have chronic fatigue and hypersomnia. I recognize that the constant exhaustion has likely developed as a result of the weight gain itself, but it's so difficult for me to convince myself that I should take a brisk walk when I can hardly get through the day without sleeping for 12-14 hours at night. I've come to rely on (prescribed) stimulants and caffeine, but even those are only a band-aid on this constant feeling of lethargy and tiredness. So, how do I develop a routine that I can actually stick to? Where do I start? There's something inside of me that yearns to wake up early every morning, enjoy the sunrise, exercise my body, and make it through the day without collapsing in exhaustion, but I feel so far away from that reality. I'm tired of using my fatigue as an excuse, but it often feels impossible to overcome."
s_2089_743,haha yeah i can totally understand on a drug like speed although ive never used it. i sometimes lose my appetite though on opiates.
s_1012_884,I've seen you enough to know that means I also have no life. I'm sad now.
s_2402_339,"It's getting to the point where I have no motivation to take care of myself and other thoughts My eating has always been off, but it's gotten worse. I only eat like at the most 3/4 of a full meal a day, with maybe a little snack. My family thinks my eating is doing alright, but they don't know how little I eat, they think I eat at College. I have lost some weight, but they have noticed my jeans are getting baggy. I don't want to shower or get dressed or wash or brush my teeth. My sleeping isn't that good, but that could also be part of my PTSD. I also have BPD but I thought this was more suitable here. I can't concentrate enough in College. I don't socialize that much, but I do have people that let me when I want to. I'm thinking of suicide every day, it can vary in how intense it is. Luckily I know how to act so no-one gets worried. I don't actually get depressed that often, I more get frustrated or upset, but there are times where I cant reconigze or know what I'm feeling, or if I feel at all. Times where I feel numb, or nothing feels weird. I'm meant to get my ID sorted so I can start drinking, so it can help. But I can't even get that sorted. I'm not normal, I don't do anything right, I don't really have any actual friends. People would do so much better without me. I have no purpose, and it would be better if I wasn't here, but I'm too fearful to go through with it just yet. Hopefully soon. I can't take this again, I hate myself so much."
s_785_92,"I guess some guys don't deal very well with the fact that they won't be able to live the same lives as their attractive kin , and I'd imagine that's where this NiceGuy mentality comes from. Makes me sad,though. They're bitter for something that's out of their control."
s_708_249,"I never used to cry. In the last few years I cry at the drop of a hat and cannot stop. ( 39 btw) it really has become an issue. Internet hug, fellow weepy peeps."
s_426_652,"[Very Long Story] My life of abuse in the foster care system with multi-revenge Trigger Warnings: child sexual abuse; child physical abuse; child verbal abuse; child neglect **Background** The story I want to tell you is full of sadness and heartache. I started out life in poverty living with my parents in a house that had some wooden floors and mostly dirt floors. My mother has a long list of mental issues and my father was an alcoholic and thankfully not the abusive type. Me and my sister were taken from our home when I was 7 and she was 4. We got placed into the foster care system in Kentucky. I'm not going to use real names, but I will use the initials of their names. It's my understanding at the time foster parents in Kentucky could have up to four kids per room and they didn't have a limit of how many a single foster parent could keep. LD's home was a long house with six bed rooms and she was keeping at least eight kids at a time. In the foster care system it's not uncommon to see a child stay with us just for a week and then be released back to the family, so we had different kids come and go all the time. **The Foster Family** The foster home we went to was ran by a woman we'll call LD and she was a widow. Her husband had passed away in the 80s. She had 4x sons and 1x daughter. Her youngest son we'll call JPD was still living with her because he had fallen from a truck when he was a kid and damaged his skull. This caused him to have a learning disability and he couldn't read or write and at the time of me living with them he was about 26 years old. Her other son CD was the oldest and he was a plumber. Another son is DD and he owned five large farms and ran a grocery store. The fourth son was CCD and he died in the 80s from being shot. Her only daughter was SD and she was very kind to us. **The Beginning** When we entered the foster care system it was a really scary time for us and I'll never forget the screams of our parents as they ripped us from our home. Because we didn't have running water and electricity the old barn converted into a house wasn't suitable for children according to our social worker. When I first arrived I had broken my wrist and had my arm in a cast. The first thing we did was go shopping for clothes as I didn't bring any with me. When we return from shopping I put my things away and was then given a trash bag and told to go outside and not come back in until all of the loose trash was picked up. Just to let you know now, this was more of a work camp instead of a loving and caring home. While I was picking up trash JPD was in the swimming pool they had beside the home. He yelled for me to come to him and he asked me if I wanted to swim. I told him I didn't know how to swim and I can't because of my obvious broken arm. He then grabbed me and tossed me into the pool and I screamed for help. I really felt like I was going to die that day. He took his time but jumped in and pulled me out. He told me to stop crying as if I would have drowned no one would have cared because I didn't matter. I remember his words like it was yesterday. When I finally got to bed that night I couldn't sleep and I cried the whole night missing my parents. Little did I know this was just the beginning of a hard 12 years of life to come. **Big Ben, Sexual Abuse and My First Revenge** When I first arrived I was told by LD that another boy will be sharing my room with me and he was away at camp for the week. I arrived at her house when school was out for the summer. His real name wasn't Ben at all and we'll call him BB. BB had been in the home for a while and he was about to turn 18 and when you turn 18 the foster care system lets you go as you're an adult now. When he returned from camp he was a very large guy, and I'm guessing about 6'2 and 230+ pounds. When I first met him things seemed to be fine, but it was the first night of him being back that he tried to molest me. I have a hard time sleeping as it is because everyday I wanted to leave and be back with my parents. He got up from his bed that's on the other side of the room and then got into mine. He tried to force his penis into my mouth. He held my nose shut so that I couldn't breath and I had no choice but to open my mouth. As he did this I did bite him as it was the only thing I could think to do. He jumped off of me and smacked me so hard it knocked me out as I don't remember anything else. The next morning when I got up with my face hurting and my mouth busted I ran to tell LD what he did to me. She took me into her bedroom to talk about it and I told her everything. When she confronted him about it he said I was trying to steal his money and he smacked me for it. I told her that's not true and he checked his wallet for his money and couldn't find it. He asked me for his money back and LD searched my pockets. She pulled out $20 and she knew I had no money, she told me I was going to be punished and made me scrub the front porch. BB had put his money in my pocket after he knocked me out and I have no idea what else might have happened to me during that time. That night I cried and was sitting by the bed room door in fear of being hurt again. I did this for a few nights and didn't get any sleep hardly. I was falling asleep outside doing work and getting in trouble for it. One day I'm in my room playing with hot wheels another foster kid let me have. BB walks in and closes the door and I just start screaming. He quickly jumps on me and covers my mouth and LD is outside doing something and doesn't hear me. He tells me if I scream again he's going to smack me again and I'm only 7 with a broken arm, I really can't do anything. He spits into my mouth and makes me swallow it while he lays on top of me. I don't know what else would have happened to me because LD came back inside and called for him to do something. This time I didn't lay and cry at all, I just laid in place thinking about what to do. I decide I'm not going to let him keep hurting me so I go to the kitchen and sneak a fillet knife into my room and I put it under my pillow. That night he get's up and jumps into my bed. He told me to remember what will happen if I scream or resist. I tell him I understand. I slip the knife from under the pillow and hid it under the covers. He then pushes me down to his penis again and that's when I let him have it. I slashed and cut him as many times as I could. He quickly disarms me and runs out of the room into the bathroom. I run to wake up LD and I told her what happened and she called 911. She told me not to say a word to the cops about what happened and to go back to bed. BB and LD told the cops he had been sleep walking and he didn't mean to cut himself. She told me if I come out of my room and say anything the cops, they wouldn't believe me because I'm a lair. After this happened BB never came back and I don't know what happened to him but I knew I wasn't going to ever let anyone do that to me again. A really shitty thing LD did to me was force me to wash the bed and the carpet of all the blood from BB. I had to scrub the bedroom, kitchen and bathroom as punishment. **Verbal Abuse, Slave Work and Sexual Abuse to Girls** Being told that you were worthless; didn't matter to anyone; you'll never be anything; was commonly said from JPD and LD as they used that to demoralize the kids. They treated all of the foster kids this way and would tell us we are lucky to be living with them as this is the only way we wouldn't be in jail or dead. They told us if we ever left we would end up in and out of jail because we are just as worthless as our parents. Anytime any of the kids wanted to do any after school event or even play sports they would tell them they don't matter or will never be anything so why waste the time now. I was also threatened to be put into a boys home away from my sister if I ever told anyone about how LD treated us. At a young age you don't know any better sadly and you're to scared to think otherwise. All of the boys worked the farms of DD and we didn't get to bed until about 11PM. We got up every morning at 4AM to do farm work with feeding cows, chickens and pigs. After we finished our work in the morning we had to quickly scramble to get cleaned up for school as the bus arrived at 6:20ish AM every day. You never had time to do any school work after you got home because you had to eat and then get back outside. It made passing classes in school really hard because I only had the bus ride home to get my homework done. DD had lots of tobacco farms and as you can image he was doing really well for himself because he had free labor all year long. Raising tobacco isn't an easy job by any means and it's even harder when your just a kid. This kind of life went on for the whole time I was at the home and nothing ever got better. Remember that this foster home keeps boys and girls from all walks of life. Also remember that LD's 20 something son JPD lives with her as well. One night I was up going to the bathroom when I could hear faint crying. The crying was coming from the girls room and I went to find out what was wrong. I opened the door to find JPD having sex with a girl that was about 16 years old or so. I ran to tell LD and he quickly ran out of the room after me. All of the noise woke LD up and JPD told her the caught me sneaking into the girls room. At this point I'm about ten years old or so and I try to explain to her what happened. She told me I'm telling lies and I should be ashamed of myself. She told me JPD would never do such a thing and I was in serious trouble tomorrow. I talked with the girl on the school bus the next morning and she said it was her idea to have sex. She told me she had been flirting with him and she was hungry for sex. I told her I was going to tell the social workers and she said if I did she would claim it never happened. When I did get home I was punished to clean out this old crappy garbage bin they have behind the home and it was full of loose garbage from bags getting ripped. The garbage bin was built of wood pallets and it was really large. They refused to give me any gloves to pick up the trash and as you might know, trash normally has food in it too. Of course all of this is rotten and full of maggots. It took me about six hours to clean it out. Later that week when we went to the social workers office for our visitation with my parents I told the social worker what happened to the girl and she pulled me into a private room to talk about it. I told her everything that was happening and she told me she'll stop by tomorrow after we get home from school for a surprise visit. What I found out later in life is that the social workers in my county hated conflict and paper work, so they would always give the foster homes a heads up on visits. The next day when we arrived home her car was sitting in our drive way. When I walked in she took the girl out to her car to have a talk. While the social worker was away LD tells me she know's what I've done and I'm going to wish I had never opened my mouth. The social worker comes back with the girl and sits in the living room with LD, JPD, me and all of the other foster kids. She goes on to tell us the importance of telling the truth and makes an example out of me. She told the other kids not to tell lies like I do as it causes un-needed stress and issues for everyone. After she left LD told me she's going to make me pay for this and it might not be today but one day (remember this phrase). **Getting Adopted and Physical Abuse** When I turned 16 I had been in the foster care system for about 8 years and my parents finally signed us over to the state. My social worker told me she's going to place us in line to be adopted and we will be visiting with new parents in the following weeks. I was very heart broken but I was also excited as I couldn't wait to get away from LD and her family. Weeks go by and we never get to visit anyone and I started to get worried. One day LD comes to school to pick us up and tells us we are getting adopted today! I was really confused because we hadn't meet with anyone. We arrive at the social workers office and go in with LD. We go into a room where my parents are and paper work is on the table. Because I was 16 I had to sign paper work stating that I understood what was going on. The social worker tells me LD is going to adopt us and I start crying on the spot. I tell them I would rather be dead then to be adopted by her and the social worker told me she understands my anger because I hate to obey rules. She was convinced that I was hating LD because I was a rebel and the normal teenager who hated following rules at this age. I told her that's not true and she said she knows it to be true and she doesn't want to hear me tell any more lies. My parents are both crying and they have already signed the paper work weeks ago. LD signs hers and I refused to sign mine. The social worker told me if I don't sign it, it doesn't change anything as I'll still be adopted by LD. On the way home from the social workers office LD looks up in the mirror and gives me a long gaze that I'll never forget. She then says, ""I told you one day you'll pay for what you've done and that day has arrived."" I felt chills run down my spine and I was really in complete shock. Even as I type this out now I still get that same chill running down my spine and I can see her eye's glaring at me in the mirror. Now that she adopted me and my sister we were no longer protected by the foster care system. With foster kids, you're not allowed to lay a hand on them to discipline them and now that we are adopted that's out the window. Now, more abuse starts that we never had before. Now when LD gets mad she would throw things at me, hit me with coffee cups, remote controls, chairs or anything else she could get her hands on. JPD then began to beat me like I was a man when I talked back to him or not doing what he said the second he said it. At this point I felt broken and alone. My sister was treated like a princess and it's because she arrived at the home when she was 4, so she only knows LD as her only parent and always did what she commanded. My sister at the time had no real understanding of who LD was and how awful her family was. My sister was over the moon about being adopted and having LD's last name. My sister was basically brainwashed into thinking LD could do no wrong and that I was just a troublemaker. I felt like I had lost the only family I had, she was my everything and I sacrificed so much because I never wanted to be separated from her. **My Father Passed Away** My grand plan in life was to turn 18 and go live with my parents away from LD and her family. It wasn't long after I was adopted that my father was diagnosed with cancer in his throat. I was crushed by this news as my father was my hero. I was only with my parents until the age of 7, but they truly loved us and provided for us the best they could. My parents had never raised a hand to us growing up and treated us with the love kids need. My sister and I had monthly visits with our parents while in foster care and never missed any of them. We would get dropped off at the social workers office where our parents would walk with us to the local park and play. They didn't have a car or anything and used a local program for people in poverty to get access to transpiration. We had a local program ran by the county that would pick people up and drive them to the grocery store, doctor visits, and court. It was like Uber but it was limited as to where they would take you and how often. My uncle is helping my parents the most that he can and he takes my father for all of this chemo treatments. He is also coming to LD's to pick us up to go and see my parents. At this point we're doing home visits with my parents as it's not easy for my father to travel. My father has been fighting with cancer for little over a year at this point. One day we are home for a visit with my father and he's in really bad shape. While he was gone for a chemo treatment someone broke into his house and stole all of his pain medication. My uncle tried to get the medication refilled and was turned away because they didn't have a police report. My father knew who stole the pills and didn't want to turn him in as cops to poor people is the enemy. I was in art class and was called to the front office to take a call. My uncle had called to tell me my father tried to commit suicide and he's being transported to the hospital. He told me he was on his way to pick me and my sister up to go see him. My father lasted a few days and passed away from his liver shutting down. I was able to see him before he died and he could squeeze my hand to let me know he could understand me. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and I promise to make him proud. I'm telling this part of the story because of how LD and her family treated me afterwards. They told me that deadbeats like my father are lazy people who draw a check every month paid for by working people. They said it's a good thing he's dead and now my mother needs to drop dead as she draws a check too. They told me this on the way home from the hospital! I sit in the main back of the van in silence and not shedding a tear. I was no longer going to let them control me and keep me down. I made a promise to myself that I will do everything in my power to be better than them and one day I would show them what my pain feels like. My father passed away on October 25th, 12x days before I would turn 18 on Nov 7th. My mother was soon after awarded to the state and placed into a nursing home due to her mental issues. **Making It on My Own** The day after we put my father to rest I started working with my uncle painting barns and sealing drive ways. When I lived with my parents I missed to much school when I was in the first grade and failed. So getting out of high school I would be 19 years old. I had plans to go to Huston TX and learn underwater welding as that's where the money was. My uncle was paying me even on days we didn't find any work to make sure I had enough money to make it on my own. I had saved up about $1,200 and graduated high school. My uncle had paid a driver to take me and LD down to TX. LD had to go with me because I under the age of 25 and she had to sign paper work stating she wouldn't be helping me with any student loans. We set out for TX and we are driving her van as my uncle's truck had broken down the day before and he only had his huge work truck that wouldn't be feasible to take. We get about 4 hours into the trip and LD is getting frustrated. She told us she's tired of being in the van and she no longer wants to do this. She orders the driver to pull over in the next city. He does as she says because it's her van and she kicks me out onto a sidewalk. I have a bag of cloths and $1,200 in my pocket. They then take off and I watch them drive away and I keep watching for a few moments to make sure they are not coming back. I felt a relief sensation rush over my body, I'm free! I'm finally free! Of course this isn't where I wanted to be at as 4 hours south of Kentucky isn't TX at all. I picked up my bag and walked up the side walk and I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I could get a bus ticket and make my way down to TX but I don't have the first idea where a bus station is. Please understand that I had never been outside of my home town before this. I had never even met a person of any other race before. All I've ever done was go to school and work on a farm. I had no real education and hardly made it out of school. I come across a school in a shopping center and I decided to check it out. The school isn't even around today and was shut down because it a for profit school that gave you no value, and of course I had no idea at the time. I walk in and talk with the front desk about getting info on the school. She sends me to talk with a lady in admissions and I explain to her my situation. She tells me how I can get funding to go here and how she can get my housing tonight. They had a school housing program where they would put four students in a two bedroom apartment. She had me forge LD's signature on paper work about financial aid. I go to this two year college and get a Associates Degree in Computer Science. I start working for a major computer company right out of college. I save every dime I can and only spend money when I need to. I buy my first truck with cash a year after starting at my job. **My Second Revenge** I was still keeping tabs on my sister back in Kentucky. At this point my sister is about to get married and I'm going to walk her down the aisle at the church LD always took us to growing up. Please understand that LD is a big figure at her church and well respected, this is important to understand for later. I drive up the weekend of the wedding and get a hotel room about an hour outside of where we grew up. My sister's best friend in the world and that's even true today calls me and we'll call her KB. She tells me that my sister's fiance is abusive to her and she want's to call the wedding off but LD told her she couldn't and not to embarrass her at the church. LD knows that he's abusive to my sister and has told her she needs to obey him as he will be her husband. On the day of the wedding I walk my sister down the aisle like normal. The pastor does his thing and says some words and what not then comes the part where he asks if anyone thinks they shouldn't be married they must speak now. This is where I stand up and say, ""I object to my sister being married to an abusive drunk."" You could hear a pin drop for a moment and LD's face is blood red. I then go on to say how LD had know about the abuse and told my sister she was going to get married no matter what and not to ""embarrass her"" here today. LD then loudly exclaims that I'm a known lair and everyone knows they can't believe a word I say. The pastor at this point asks me to please leave and my sister spoke up for me. Telling everyone that what I had said was the truth and we ran out of the church together. LB was later removed from the church management and asked to please not come back to the church as they don't believe in abuse (I know what you're thinking). Oh man, I wish I could have been in the pastor's office to hear this conversation and to see the look on her face. After all of this happened my sister moved in with KB where she would later meet her husband. **The Final Revenge** It had been about 7 years now from the wedding crash. I'm now married and I have a house of my own and living a great life. My sister had married a real man who treats her right and they have a great little girl together. KB is now working at the county court house and does a lot of work with properties and taxes. She calls me one day to tell me LD's property tax is way behind and they didn't get the tax lien lifted and now they will have a tax deed sale of the property. I knew this was my time to strike and pay them back for a fraction of the pain they had caused me. I show up at the auction and the only other person to show up was JPD and his wife. When he noticed me he turned pale and then tried to be all buddy buddy with me. I was very friendly and he asked me why I'm here. I tell him it's to help keep the property in the family and I had no problem helping out. I let him know if I get ownership I'll pay the taxes for them so they won't need to worry about this being a problem again ever again. His brother DD had given him the money needed to purchase the property back so he had cash with him to pay for the taxes and fees. I told him to keep the cash and let them know you took care of the taxes. So the bidding starts at a little over $2,000 because of the back due taxes and fees. I bid on it and JPD doesn't. I easily win and now have instant ownership of the propriety. I go down the the court house with JPD and I finish all of the paper work with KB. LD had fallen behind on the property taxes because she was giving the money to JPD to pay it. Well it turns out JPD is what we call a ""pill head"" and was using the money to buy drugs. LD didn't keep foster kids anymore because of her age she wasn't allowed to so they didn't have any money coming in besides disability and SSI. When I arrived to the house I told LD how I regret being a horrible child and now that I'm older I've grown out of it. I let her know how much of a mother she was to me when I didn't have one and that I was here to pay her back. I told her now that I own the property she'll never need to worry about property taxes ever again. I let her know I'm going to remodel her house but she can't live in it at the same time. I told her this works out, because I won the bid the county would automatically evict them. LD is a person who thinks we've never been to the moon, so tricking her into believing me was easy. She told me she could stay at DD's house while I'm remodeling hers and she was very excited. I told her not to worry about any of the belongs they have as I'll make sure they are covered up and moved when needed. I tell her a lawyer will be sending some paper work over to her in a few days. I then hire a lawyer to do an ejectment of LD and JPD from the property. I don't know if I could have done this a different way, but this was the advice I was given at the time. It took about two months for everything to be fully mine and them evicted. With them evicted and now that all the belongs have stayed in the house past 30 days, I now own all of it. I got in contact with the local fire department to find out what I needed to do in order to burn a house down on my property. They informed me that it has to be a controlled burn, I'll need a permit to close off the road as the home sits near a public road and I had to have the water shut off and the power disconnected. The water was easy but it took awhile for the power because they had to remove all the wires running to the pole and remove the transformer. The fire department gave me a date and time I was allowed to do the burning and I coordinated with the sheriffs office to close the road. I got my permit from the city and now I just had to sit and wait. The day of the great fire, I prep the house with lots of straw inside and I made sure to take all of the doors down and open all of the windows as I wanted this to burn as fast as possible. I go to DD's house to visit JPD and LD. I told them I wanted to take them out by the old oak tree for lunch. This tree was in a field across the road from the home. When we worked on the farm we would eat lunch in the summer under the shade of this tree. LD is in a wheelchair and JPD has a bad back so he doesn't move around too well and almost needs a wheelchair. Drop them off and I tell them to enjoy the snacks and I'll be right back as I'm going to set fire to the old stuff I ripped out of the house. It's really common for people where we live to burn trash. I called the fire department to let them know I was going to start the fire and made sure they had the address. I met with the officers closing the road off let them know I was about to begin and they might encounter some family members trying to get by them and not to let them. I then went behind and started fires from under the house with packed straw. I'm standing beside them while they eat and chat with me about life and what I've been doing with my career. It's not too long before the fire starts to peek around the sides of the home. They start screaming about the fire and we need to call 911. This is when I told them I had the road closed and the fire department already knew that I was going to burn my house down on my property. I told them what they are seeing is just a fraction of the pain they had caused me over the course of my life and I want them to know what a fraction of my pain feels like as I could never fully make them understand. At this point JPD is trying to call his brothers and I reminded him I have the road closed and they can't get by. It takes less than 20 minutes for the house to collapse into a heap of junk. The whole time I'm watching them as they sit and sob. JPD tries to fight me and I just just move away from him as he's high and can't really move well anyway. About 30 minutes as passed and the fire gone with just smoke and embers glowing. I get in my car and drive back home knowing that they have now lost almost everything they have. They didn't lose has much as I have, but it was the closest thing to it. **Closing** LD passed away in 2010 and JPD lives with this wife in an old trailer somewhere. I still own the property today and refuse to sell it to anyone because I don't want them to ever have the chance of owning the property again. I go back every year to check on the property to make sure they haven't moved a trailer on it or something on my land. From my understanding the property was in the family for more than 100 years. I haven't talked to any of them and never plan to. What I want is anyone reading this to take away that abuse is never ok, EVER! If you're being abused do not listen to the people abusing you. They will lie and put you down to hold control over you. If you can help anyone that you know that's being abused please, please help them get help. Writing none of this was easy, but after writing about people screwing me over in life as an adult. I felt a great relief and I had some people message me about how my story helped them. I hope this story can help someone else and just so you know I don't wish death or harm to LD's family. Yes they were in the wrong for how they treated me and other kids, but I've learned you can't control the past but you can have influence on your future."
s_2402_1046,"What are these episodes called and are they normal? Background: I'm a 19 year old College Student under stress that suffers from Psychosis and PTSD. I sometimes get these episodes of extreme emotional distress after being triggererd by something insignificant. Today it was me mixing up train times. These episodes usally last 10 mintues to half an hour. This is what usally happens in them:
I get shaky. I get extremly upset on the verge of tears. I find it hard to calm down. I feel extremly suicidal and I need to hurt myself. I feel like I could explode. I either pace around or can't move. I tend to talk to myself and put myself down in these episodes
E.G ""I'm so fucking stupid why don't I jump under a fucking train""
After these episods it usally takes me a week to recover and to function normally, it messes up my Collegework, my Psychosis get worse, my sleeping, eating, focus, my suicidal impulses ect. What are these episodes called and are they normal?"
s_1965_78,"A few years ago, when I got my medical card; it used to be medically incredible for me; I don't want to exaggerate but it felt life saving almost. But now...when I take it, it shoots my anxiety up to Mach ten and I have a bad time instead. It makes me really really sad. The plant is so so beautiful...I appreciate her for all the people she helps and gives a lot of happiness and fun. But it's always bittersweet, because I can't join in with my friends; or experience those highs I used to have that calmed my unpleasant mental symptoms."
s_1488_3,"You should probably wait until tomorrow night to take it since youve taken a dose today already. I just started Prozac a week ago, and Im extremely tired too. I take my dose around 6-7pm before bed. The next day around 11am and 3pm I still get really fatigued. I havent had any trouble falling asleep. My doctor recommended I take 10mg of melatonin 30 minutes to an hour before bed. Maybe you could give that a try?"
s_702_1018,"What happens when the one person you confide in leaves your life? I've had this friend since my Sophomore year of high school, and I feel differently about her than I've ever felt for any one person in my life. She is the only shoulder I've ever had to cry on, and the only person I've ever really been able to always confide in. I have trust issues due to a lot of really bad relationships and losing two of my friends to suicide - I just really don't know who is going to stick around anymore. However, she always has. Whenever I've been at my absolute worst in life, she has always been there to help pick me up. Back in the days of highschool, when I was still living with my parents, when fights would break out in the family, she would ALWAYS show up just to help me escape from the situation. There have been multiple occasions where I've driven to her house and just broke into tears, and she'd be there at any time of night to hold me and calm me down. Last year, right before the end of the college semester, things got horribly rough. On a bad night, she came into my room with a friend to carry me to the car and into the ER, and comforted me through the process of being admitted to the behavioral medicine inpatient ward, and she was the first to come and visit. Now, approximately a year after that experience, she left tonight - moving across the country. I just don't know what to do, because I feel a whole new level of insecurity knowing that if I fall down again, she isn't going to be able to be there. My three weeks in the hospital made me such more of an independent person, but I still **need** that one person in my life to confide in. My parents aren't around anymore, and I don't have family, and while I have other friends, there is just such a level of understanding that is missing, as well as trust that I'm not ready to give. I just don't know what to do. I was just told by my therapist a couple weeks ago that I made such drastic improvements that I don't have to come to therapy anymore, but I still feel as if I'm falling back into that hole. I'm so scared that I'm going to end up in the hospital again and screw up college again because of it. I would feel like a failure if I wasn't able to complete a semester of college. What do I do? How do I handle this? My other half is gone and moved on, and I'm so scared."
s_41_1679,"Can I expect to have a God experience? The Bible tells us that there's a constant war going on around us. A war that involves the spiritual heavenly hosts and principalities of darkness. I personally feel that this says so much in regards to the Christian faith. I feel that this says so much more than just going to church every Sunday and putting on a smile for our white suburban brothers at a midweek bible study. The bible is essentially saying there are beings that have existed, spiritually, in our world, or realm, for an uncounted number of lifetimes. The beings have seen nation rise and nation fall. These beings are the ultimate researchers on the human condition and can predict what you're going to do before you even decide that you will do it. Some of these creations have even sat at the foot of God's throne. I suppose where my issue is, is in my own life. I, like many Christians, battle against Sin and the world daily. I read the Bible. I try to represent Christ the best I can. I fail many times. I know there is much more going on in our world than just what we see with our eyes and speak with our mouths. But at times, I wonder if I will ever truly understand or partake in this supernatural battle that rages on. I'm a nurse at a hospital who helps people daily, sure, but its still just a job at times. I then proceed home and fiddle on my computer and maybe be with friends. It's a relatively monotonous life, that has been replicated one billion times over in many other countries and timelines. I guess my biggest question is: Can I expect to experience God on a supernatural level, the kind that changes lives, or is my meandering lifestyle going to hold me back from truly seeing what I know is out there until the day my soul leaves body?"
s_3044_666,"My Dad passed Nov. 30th, 2008. I still see stuff and think ""I should buy that for Dad"" or ""Dad would love this joke!"". Then I get sad. He is missed desperately. Big internet hugs to all of you."
s_1116_1100,"What are the worst things about depression, in your opinion? I can't decide between these:
1) The feeling of dread simply living can give you. Remember that feeling in your stomach you'd get as a kid when you know tomorrow you'd have to go to the doctor and get a shot? Sometimes I get that feeling just knowing I have things to do the next day. 2) Rumination. Living through a bad experience once is quite enough, I don't need to think about it years after the fact. 3) Maybe this is more anxiety, but I can't handle things. Something that would only give most people mere annoyance for a couple days will turn me into a hyperventilating mess. Inconveniencing others will make me feel so guilty I'm sorry I exist."
s_1625_727,"I have not seen my early-middle-aged son, his wife, or their my grandchild since summer, when we could be outside. A new grandchild is due soon. I wonder if I will ever meet him or her. I am x2 vaxx with booster. Immuno-compromised. It's wrenching sad. I cry most nights."
s_1931_496,"Sex is not that important to me. Im more concerned with companionship, stability, health, etc."
s_2958_181,all of my mental illness has come from times where I was alone. I've had deep existential self loathing from times where I been more or less isolated. I don't think I like myself very much and it can be very frightening.
s_260_9,"the learning curve isn't such that your second time you will be massively better that the first. Maybe I didn't put it right, sorry. what I wanted to say is to get a bit trained on paid sex not exactly couple of times . the thing is with the depression, my self esteem is already low. and Its not easy to handle the embarrassment, otherwise for a fully healthy person with no self respect issues what you have said makes sense."
s_1877_87,My life is a failure
s_568_543,"The Snipet is from hearing of the tape they made killing their last victim, 16 yrs old shirley lynette ledford. These torture/rape sessions didn't last a couple of hours. Some of these girls were held for days, tortured non-stop. The 5th victim Lynette Ledford, the one who is on the audio tape, was physically destroyed. Norris wasn't even able to commit his rape because Bittaker inserted his pliers inside her vaginal and anal cavities and literally ripped her apart. He was doing that on the audio tape. I've never heard a human being scream in pain like I heard on that tape. For those who want to hear it, TRUST ME, you DON'T. I'm not squeamish, I've seen some terrible things. I've seen some of Maury Travis' videos of his murders. But the Ledford tape is in a category all its own. I wish I never heard it. Of the 25 students in my criminology class only 3 of us stayed in the room. Many dropped the class. Others vomited. It's 18 minutes of the most unbelievably brutal acts imaginable. I don't have many regrets in my life. But I seriously regret listening to that tape. I wish I could get it out of my head. No matter how I try to describe the tape it's not really possible. The fact that a human being did this to another is too much. Bittaker not only LOVED what he did, he listened to the tape constantly and even let neighborhood kids hear it. They reportedly thought it was fake. That's what gets you, that it sounds like a fake ""Hollywood"" actress screaming. But it's real. It makes perfect sense that the FBI uses the tape to train new agents. It's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever experienced. I don't cry often but I don't mind saying I cried like a baby, almost uncontrollably. It's not an experience I'd wish on anyone. I bet Bittaker would enjoy hearing that this tape has caused 35 years of sadness and pain to anyone who hears it. If anyone on Earth deserves the death penalty it's Bittaker. The only problem would be that he could only die once. There is a special place reserved for him in hell."
s_1170_361,Can't beat Spain and France with Jock Landale as your best big. Australia falls short once again. I'm actually depressed.
s_1269_286,I take effexor xr for anxiety/depression. It's been very helpful in helping me reign it in when used with therapy/coping skills. I'm definitely less anxious overall and I don't spiral as quickly which helps in being able to calm myself down.
s_2625_795,"Like I've said before, at that point he should have filed for divorce. I'm not sure why people keep saying ""what did I expect him to do."" Cheating is never acceptable. There is a mature way of dealing with sexual incompatibility. I didn't want sex constantly, that is true, but I never stopped loving my husband. I did everything for him, except force myself to be sexual when I couldn't be. In the end he decided constant sex was more important than being with the woman he loved. It was unfortunate. I never needed sex in my relationship with him. I was totally fulfilled in other ways. I just wish we had realized that before we got married. I don't blame him for needing sex. But I do feel emotionally damaged from the betrayal. It still keeps me up at night knowing the only one who claimed to love me has hurt me the most in this world. Anyway, thanks for your input."
s_676_193,"I really hate that response. I understand why people say it, but it still generally annoys me. "" I want to die/kill myself!"" friend : there's people who are struggling and doing that, *look of disgust in their face*. I definitely need a filter on it but sometimes the jokes help me cope."
s_2402_786,I tend to tense up and get very jumpy. Afterwards I like to hide and my boyfriend says I get very cuddly
s_2544_1099,"THE MAN IN THE CHIMNEY I wake up 3:05am, I'm not sure what woke me up but considering I'm a light sleeper it could've been anything, I get up out of bed and walk to the door, I pause for a moment... silence, deafening silence, I look at the LED clock 3:07am, I open the door and walk around the house to make sure it's safe, Again, nothing. I walk to the sink and turn the faucet on to get a glass of water, nice cold water. After I finish drinking my water I set the cup down on counter and begin heading back to my room to get some sleep for work... but I hear a noise in the living room, Like a tapping, I try to ignore it but I know if I don't investigate I'll be up all night thinking about it, so I begin slowly trodding my way over to the living room, I notice that I can hear my own footsteps and breathing... it's so quiet wich is weird because, I have a cat who's quite active at night... I finally make it to the living room and don't see anything but hear the tapping again... I'm not sure what it is but I'm starting to get nervous that someone's In my house... I hear it again from my fireplace and quickly twirl around and see nothing... I hear something over in the far dark end of the room, I look and just see my cat sitting there, thank God. I head back in bed when, I feel something... my cats sleeping in my bed with me, I give him a pet and go to sleep. I wake up in the morning and see my cat and then... I remember when I saw my cat sitting at the otherside of the living room... that wasn't my cat... I saw my cat in my bed but never saw that thing exit the living room... I managed to build up the courage to get out of bed and investigate... nothing, except a faint tap in the fireplace but it's also raining so it might just be that, 5:30am I drive to work and sit at my cubicle, my boss comes in and says I gotta work late unfortunately because we're short staffed, but he'll pay me for the extra hours, I agree and he leaves. I sit there in the dark typing spreadsheet after spreadsheet when my screen blurs, someone must be behind me... I turn around and see nothing... The screen only blurs when someone is behind me, it's one of those privacy monitors that blur when they detect someone in close proximity that isn't you... I turn it off out of anxiety and go back to working trying to ignore it, I finally finish up and drive home, I get home and the first thing that greets me is a gentle tapping from the fireplace, I realize the tapping isn't as high up in the chimney as last night, as if the tappings gotten closer to the ground, I try to ignore it and go unwind at my desk for a bit before going to bed. I wake up, I hear the tapping has turned to banging. I sit there scared, I decide to grab my shotgun and head into the living room, I sit there ALL NIGHT shotgun in hand listening to this banging and occasional animalistic breathing... I feel like I'm starting to lose my grip on reality, like I'm going insane, i hasn't been sleeping much and it's starting to take its toll. Night turns to day and the tapping stops, for now. I'm losing it I'm losing I'm losing it. I try to sit down in my room and watch TV to forget about this but I keep seeing things in my peripherals, I keep hearing things, I keep smelling things, I can't shake it, I can literally feel my mind descending into a horrific and nauseous downspiral of insanity and terror, I feel like a rat trapped in an infinite maze of mirrors, my world is spinning. I desperately need sleep but every single fucking time that 'thing' taps and bangs, I fear if i sleep it will come out of the fireplace and decorate my room in my remains, my world is spinning, I'm going to try to sleep tonight. 2:17am I wake up and hear another tapping and I cry, i grab a flashlight and frustratingly stomp over to the fire place and pause for a moment, paranoid that I might see some demented creature or serial killer hiding in my chimney when the Tapping interrupts my thoughts and I quickly turn the flashlight on making an audible click and peak up the chimney... something very swiftly scurries out of the chimney, possibly a racoon, but no eldritch abomination, and no serial killer. I laugh at the absurdity of the situation, or more of a nervous chuckle, and get ready and go back to bed 2:23am same fucking night as the above paragraph I wake up again, fucking annoyed and tired but fearful for my life to yet again another tapping noise, even louder. I get out of bed and grab my flashlight ""again"" and anxiously walk into the living room and shine it at the fireplace... I see two hands shoot up as if something tugged on them, that's it, thats the last straw... I saw those hands clear as day, two charred hands with 5 jointed long fingers... I tumble back and panic. I try to calm myself down and tell myself it was my imagination and that I'm just being paranoid, but I can't fucking forget how clear I saw them. After an eternity of weighing my options and telling myself that its a result of severe lack of sleep i finally walk back to bed and I make a reminder on my phone to call someone to check the chimney, a dick move to be roping someone else in but I desperately need to know if this is real or if I'm losing my fucking mind. I wake up the next day, it's Saturday so no work, I get out of bed and get dressed for when the guy comes to investigate the ""mysterious tapping noise"" i decide to go to the store and buy battery powered cameras while I wait, while I'm at the store I swear I see my cat with dead pale eyes and matted fur staring at me just out of my peripherals. I get home and install them and set them up to my phone, I then take my cat and drive to my friend's house. I explain my situation and he agrees to let me hang out for the day, we play video games and my cat is awfully still... I remember that guy I called so I take my cat and drive home just in time, me and the guy named David enter the house and I see ash on the floor David sees it to, I tell him about the tapping, he tells me about how there have other reports of tapping in there windows and to not worry about it. He also said the ash on floor is a bit unusual especially considering there's footprints and paw prints In it. He leaves and I watch him drive away. I sweep up the ash and remembered the cameras, I sit at my desk wich is against the wall opposite of the chimney with my monitor facing the chimney, i try my absolute best to avoid falling asleep, I look at the footage and I watch and see as soon as I leave the house a long emaciated charred creature crawls out of the fireplace and stands 5 feet infront of the chimney standing at 8ft tall in pin straight posture it's so emaciated I can see it's ribs... it has split jaws and 3 big black eyes, like smooth black pearls, it has four arms, two normal ones and 2 long rope like arms that lay curled on the floor, I also see my cat again, same dead eyes and matted fur... I fast forward and it just stands perfectly still and petrified the ENTIRE DAY, let me emphasize this *thing* crawled out of my fireplace, the one I'm sitting in the same room as and it stood perfectly still for TEN HOURS,not a peep, and not a single movement, I hear my car door slam shut in the footage and the creature walks backwards crawling back up the chimney dragging its long rope like hands with it before disappearing up the chimney, the cat seems to crawl away behind my desk... the footage ends. I sit in shock trying to process this... I drive over to a friend's house and explain, he's hesitant but I convince him to let me sleep atleast one night at his house He relents. That night I had the absolute worst nightmare known to man I wake up but... in a dream, I think... I look around and my house is twisted and warped, I can't fucking stand to look at this house anymore but its definitely a dream... I hear tapping, I'm confused for a second but then remember my predicament, it taps again, like it's trying to lure me to the chimney, I get up and the cat right fucking there stares at me with an infinite gaze and the intensity of a black hole I jump back, I look to the fireplace wich is now three times bigger and hear knocking, knock knock knock then a long pause, I hear the knocking again but more aggressive like if the FBI where busting my door down, I yell that I'm armed, I yell like a rat that's been cornered in a maze, a rat that won't ever see the light of day again, a rat that's locked in a cage with its own deteriorating mind, I hear clicking like it's using echo location mixed in with choking and insect like chittering, I want to wake up but I can't... it sounds like the clicker from last of us ... I slowly look behind me and see two hands slowly lower from the chimney... the... second chimney? they grip the top of the fireplace, it's long 5 jointed fingers gripping it and I hear banging as it stomps down the chimney, I see 3 glints in triangular formation wich must be its eyes, i see it drop into the fireplace and crawl out, dragging its long rope like arms behind it... I get down on the ground confused and nauseous all the while it screeches at me sticking it's long shiny black tongue out at me... it launches it's rope arms with its twisted 5 jointed fingers at me like a grapling hook, it begins walking backwards... into the fireplace like it did before, it's grip so tight I can hear my bones begin to crack, I try to fight and resist, kicking and screaming, this is it, this is the end, I look at my cat, it stares at me with dead eyes... I feel the grip getting tighter and tighter like a vice as it pulls me up the chimney is this even a dream, I wonder if I'm half dreaming half awake or if this is some kind of sick mind trick, I wake up covered in a cold sweat... I'm at my friend's house and then remember he let me spend the night. I get out of bed, I get dressed, I eat breakfast, I drive home much more calm after sleeping, albeit with a horrific nightmare but I slept nonetheless. I make it to my front door and stand there trembling. I don't want to go back, but maybe now that I'm not sleep deprived it will be fine, maybe David was right it was just an animal and I was just really tired I enter the house and close the door. I walk around a bit inspecting, everything seems good, I don't see a dead cat staring at me wich is a good sign... I also don't see my regular cat anywhere. I suddenly fear that dead cat that keeps watching me IS my regular cat but I shake that thought away, I figure he just got outside again and I put food out for him. I walk over to the chimney... I grab my flashlight... I brace myself... nothing, just a normal chimney... David was right, I walk around and see my regular cat sleeping on the floor in the kitchen, I look at him a bit longer to confirm its not a demented trick, nope it's just my cat. I go over to the fridge and hear something groan somewhere in my house. I silently shut the fridge and here it groan again... the groaning quickly turn to erratic screaming and clicking. I grab my cat and put him outside where it's safer and when I close the door I see the dead cat again, I slowly walk around it and it doesn't even move to watch me... I sprint for the shotgun and trip and hit my head on a wall corner, I tripped over the dead cat. My vision blurs And the reality of my situation sets back in... I did sleep and I did dream about being dragged up the chimney, I can confirm that that was a dream, but the creature is still real... very real. I feel like iv been fading in and out of consciousness from sleep deprivation again even though I had a full 8hours sleep. I feel like the line between reality and dream has been blurred, It's like this house has been marked by something eldritch in origin, iv been seeing things now and hearing things but I don't want to believe it's real, I stumble to my room with a splitting headach and lock the door, the cats sitting on a shelf staring down at me eyes like spotlights, it's gaze burns holes through me it's so intense, I hear a tapping in the chimney... I listen and hear the tapping turn to banging and screaming, loud loud unholy screaming, like a million voices crying from the gates of hell, I listen as something crawls out of the fireplace, I listen as it screams and I listen as something smaller scurries about, I leave the room and run to the garage and into the attic and bring the ladder back up and see the cat right there I crawl back in fear to the other end of the attic, I have 1 shot left and I'm considering something that I can't undo. Iv been sitting in the attic for what feels like forever I can feel sleep trying to take over again, I feel like the cats giving out my hiding spot to the man in the chimney, I can hear whispers in my head saying to end it, I think they might be right, a quick and painless death is far better then being violently dragged up a chimney kicking and screaming, but I refuse to listen, I try to tell myself I'll make it, surly a pump action to the head will take care of it, if I can even aim. The whispers are deafening now and I hear the being enter the garage..."
s_3047_138,"I use the Pomodairo program when I'm writing, but it's easy to turn it off and go surfing. It does help me concentrate when I am writing, though."
s_2273_311,"People also say that crossbow or explosive ninja stars would help but I dont have the cross bow yet and I ran out of gauze. I feel so exhausted that I wanna give up but that would mean I spent all my rifle ammo, all my important resources and my strongest weapon for nothing"
s_2417_88,"Healing takes place when you leave where you got hurt. So about a month and a half ago I caught my SO cheating on me. 6 years down the drain. I was depressed and to the brink of suicidal. I blamed myself for his infidelity. About 2 weeks ago I decided to leave him finally, to heal myself. I am now in a much better place I dont feel the need to be upset or cry over him every single time. I am healing, I am learning to love myself again and put myself first. I am learning that I need to let go of the person who broke me in order to be whole again. I still love him, but I need to love myself more."
s_2502_62,"Most people who claim to have insomnia don't. Usually they're doing something that stimulates their brain which can be anything from the emission of blue light from your Iphone or laptop (which actually stimulates you the most of different light types which I won't get too deep into) or even having a simple source of light like a lamp or nitelight which could confuse your brain into thinking it's still day-time and prevents from certain chemicals in your brain which help get you drowsy. I have sleep problems too. Sleep at 4am, wake at 2pm depressed that I only have a couple more hours of day light to be productive. Vicious cycle."
s_2338_910,"Sleeping troubles already Anyone else experience very light sleeping? My baby isn't waking me up, nor is my bladder. I just can't sleep more than 45 minutes at a time. I thought it was my husband's snoring that was waking me up but it happens no matter where I sleep. I get some relief with Benadryl but I would rather not take it every night. Any suggestions?"
s_1922_191,"I'm kind of in a similar boat as you. I just turned 25 last week, I have an amazing job (almost my dream job!) that pays enoughish, I'm independent, I have a wonderful bf, wonderful friends, I feel that I am skilled at my other hobbies, yet I am consistently depressed. I'm a teacher, its my dream job, it is very rewarding and I'm super passionate about it. It helps me cope with my depression a LOT, but it's summer now and I'm really struggling. From an outside perspective my life is freakin amazing, right? But somehow, every single day I have to remind myself that SH is not an option, and neither is suicide because I dont want to hurt others in my life. What helps me cope the best is constantly being distracted, not letting my mind wander. Are you sure the career you chose is the right one for you? Is there nothing else that excites you (hobby, a different profession)? Have you tried/thought about trying medicine? I dont know if i've helped, but I hope you feel less alone in the struggle"
s_1412_120,"I [21f] cheated on my ex [20m] and we broke up, and after dating my current bf [22m] who I'm in love with for 7 months, I suddenly feel a surge of guilt and beginning to miss my ex. I started dating my ex when I was 17 and he was 16, we were best friends and we dated for 3.5 years and were in love for most of that time. Last september, after fighting a lot, I started to drift away from our relationship and felt extremely taken for granted. I heard about the site POF (a dating site) and signed up, just because I wanted someone to talk to, not for the purpose of finding a date. But, I began talking to a lot of guys and really began putting a lot of time into talking to guys I met on there and neglecting my boyfriend (at the time). Eventually, I met a guy who lived close to me, we had mutual friends and agreed to meet up with him. I even lied to my boyfriend and told him that I had a doctors appointment after classes and had to go home earlier than usual, just to meet that guy. We ended up having sex twice and haven't really spoked since. After our last meeting, I called my boyfriend and confessed what I did. He was absolutely crushed but wanted to stay together since he loved me. But, I told him that I no longer loved him or found him attractive so we decided to stay friends. I didn't really feel any guilt at the time because I felt as if it was justified at the time (due to the way he sometimes treated me during our relationship). A few weeks later, I started seeing this guy who I was really into. My ex was furious and questioned how I could move on so fast. He told me he hated me and never wanted to see/speak to me again. I tried multiple times to talk to him since then without success. He still hates me and still doesn't want to talk to me. Since then, I've been really happy in my relationship and he's been dating a new girl and they seem happy. But, recently, I've been thinking about our relationship and the things I missed about it. I don't miss him but I now realize how close we were and how much we had in common. Sometimes, I'd just think about things we talked about or the little inside jokes we had. I feel extremely guilty for what I did and I fully deserve the way he is treating me now, I do not expect him to forgive me. I brought this upon myself as I was not acting in a mature way about the whole situation from the very start but the guilt is really eating me up inside. I miss my best friend but I am absolutely in love with my current boyfriend. I do not know what to do about these feelings. I feel so guilty about (a) what I did to my ex, and (b) how these feelings about my ex might affect my current boyfriend. tl;dr: cheated on ex/best friend, he cut off all contact, we moved on with our lives and I'm happy in my current relationship but I feel extremely guilty."
s_1748_1164,"Some general questions Now first off, I'm not diagnosed with ADHD. However getting diagnosed would be too expensive where I live. I've just been wondering if this one specific trait I have could be related to it, and some other questions. a) I'm addicted to my phones battery life. Every time I use my phone my eyes just stay on the battery percentage and just stare. If I'm browsing reddit I end up looking at my battery every ten seconds, and I constantly worry about it. If my phones at 99% I will work my ass off to make it 100%. Constant pinging in my mind of what could be wrong and how to improve it. Could this be related to an ADD/ADHD? b) What is the difference between ADD and ADHD? c) I can't watch movies or shows. I lose focus way too fast and struggle to stay in my seat without occupying myself with something else. Is this a trait?"
s_2409_43,"Going to stop being a lurker and start being active Both in life and on this subreddit. I'm F/172 cm (5'7)/79 kg (175). I have struggled with my weight, my selfesteem and depression all my life. I now have two little girls and I don't want to do this any more. My mother have been on a diet her entire life and still is. I want to show my girls what it's like to love yourself and take care of your body. To do that I need to do it for myself first. But this is where anxiety kicks in. I have failed all my previous attempts. Now I am at my heaviest (except during pregnancies). In a couple of months I will be 30 years old. I'm entering my thirties weak, fat and scared. How is this time any different? Will this just end in another failure? I'm already preparing myself for my next failure and I don't think that is going to help me. I have decided to stop being a lurker and start being active. Maybe this community is what I need to stop being afraid of life. Maybe this is the thing that will finally put an end to the anxiety and pain. Maybe this will help make it fun. I would really appreciate stories from those of you who have been where I am and who managed to turn their life around. Or maybe just tell me something that helped you making that change. Thank you for reading and if you're a part of this community then you're already a great inspiration! Edit: Thank you! I'm overwhelmed by all the supporting and inspiring replies. I woke up today feeling like this will actually work! I'm going to start logging my food in MFP. My username is Anthliel of you want to add me. I log most of my food in swedish but I'm going to try to log in english when possible."
s_781_157,"I suck at titles. Ive been reading a lot of threads about people feeling lonely or losing their best friends, bf/gfs and whatnot. Heres hoping to shed some light on these dark times. Ive been going through a pretty rough patch myself. I hardly talk to my family and I have maybe 2-3 irl friends that I talk to on a semi normal basis. They are all women as well. One is a really good friend I dated about 5 years ago and shes now engaged. Another is a receiver at one of the stores at work. The last is a girl ive only known for about 2 years and we dated for a while but she was going through a divorce at the time so we cut it off because she wasnt ready for another relationship yet. She also has 2 kids by him so it was even more tough in her dealing with her exes bullshit, but I digress. Last month (Oct) I finally made the move out of the shitty 1 bedroom apartment I was in with 4-5 people living there. I have a job and was paying half the bills while my room mate paid the other half and his nephew and his wife squatted for nearly 5 months. I was severely depressed but kept pressing on. With the hopes id be able to move out with the last girl I mentioned and get a place (as friends) with her and her 2 boys. Im in my own apt now just sitting and waiting for things to happen. Having to pay full bills on my own apt. Its not helped me feeling lonely and unwanted at all. But im trying to hang on. The girl im supposed to move in with I dated as ive said but weve been best friends since we broke it off. I havent stopped loving her or being in love with her since. Its so hard to keep myself from spilling my shit out to her because I know its not what she wants or needs right now because her life is incredibly busy being a single mother and dealing with her ex's shit. I had a relapse last weekend and almost went completely insane because we were supposed to hang out on saturday but I woke up and felt like shit. I cried out for help to her. We were supposed to go get sushi and see a movie like we had planned but I was still upset because she went and saw the movie the night before with another of her friends. So I shut down. I needed my best friend. We ended up not going because by the time she got ready we would have only had a few hours together and she neglected to tell me she had to be at her cousins house for a family thing later that afrernoon. That really set me off. I cried out for help again. I needed my best friend... She ended up getting angry at me and said she doesnt need to detail her fucking life out to me blah blah. ( Her ex was like that. Kept her under lock and key and never let her do anything) I finally tried one last time and she ended up yelling at me saying the same type of things. I just lost my best friend, I thought. After sat night I took a few days to collect myself. Didnt contact her or make any attempt to. I went to work and just did my own thing. Focusing on myself and what I need to keep myself sane. Next thing I know my clutch goes out on my car on the way to work. Another thing gone wrong. At this point I feel broken. I forced myself to calm down and collect myself. I had to find a way to figure this out. If I cant drive my car. I cant work right? I called my sales rep and she came and picked me up and dropped me off at my next stop where I met with other rep and rode around with him for the day. Now I have to figure this out. How am I going to get my car fixed? I went to my moms house and had my sisters fiancee look at it and found the problem. The next day called my sister to ask her for a ride to get the part I needed. I also asked if they could fix it when I got the part. They said yeah when he gets home from work. The time came and passed when I was then told they couldnt do it. Now I cant get to work the next day... Well after 3 days had gone past without talking to my best friend. She messaged me and said she hoped I have a good day. She had no idea my car broke and I was having trouble. I responded to her and we started talking and I told her about the last 3 days. She apologized for yelling at me and said she hated yelling at me. Made me feel a bit better. So here I am another day and im sitting in my other friends dads shop having them look at my car before I go to work. The point im trying to make I guess is that shit is gonna happen. Sometimes its out if your control. Whether you have depression, are depressed, or high anxiety. Take a minute to breathe. Think of what needs to get done and do what you can. There are people who care. But they cant always drop what theyre doing to cater to you. You need to put forth the effort to do what needs to get done. You need to take care of yourself. Everyone else cant do it for you. If you show effort for yourself others will be more inclined to help. Things arent going to happen immediately either. Sometimes you have to wait it out. As hard as it is. You need to be strong for yourself before others can be strong for you."
s_996_489,I like being optimistic.
s_2584_13,"body hurts, brain hurts moments end up being days. days lead to months. months lead to years. years of struggle with a broken brain. middle age (47M) with MDD in 2021. MDD since age 5, 6, 7? depression, anxiety, and loneliness is going to kill me. i mean i'll kill myself, but you get the point."
s_993_781,Numb and empty and apathetic I am feeling depressed. I just want to feel something. I am unable to get out of bed. Feeding myself and bathing seem like a chore. I feel like I am in a rut. Days are blending in. I am feeling like a big void is there. I just want something to look forward to. I think of taking up sketching or something. Had taken to learning French through Duolingo last year. But maybe that was hypomania. I have lost all interest.
s_717_85,"Me [26F] with my room mates of two years [26F 24M]; My two room mates recently started hooking up still want me to look for 3 bedroom apartments with them. Is it wrong or selfish that I feel really uncomfortable about this? The three of us all met when we moved into this apartment and have fortunately gotten along really well. The two of them have always seemed close but aside from my friends joking to me that they seem to have chemistry, nothing has really happened. nbsp;
Somewhere over the last few weeks, they've started hooking up. Honestly, I'm not surprised at all by this and I think they would make a great couple, but what bothers me is the fact that we had intended to look for new apartments together as our lease ends in August. When they found out I knew, we had a chat and discussed options and both of them seemed surprised that I was hesitant to move into a new place with them. nbsp;
Ive never found myself in a situation like this and I dont know if all three of us living together is the best idea. I could honestly live with it, but its not my preferred option. I mentioned to them that I would rather one of them live elsewhere but now, honestly, I think that the girl would just end up resenting me for breaking up ""the group"" or think I'm a tightass or something. nbsp;
After a long talk with them and consulting some friends, I decided that maybe I was just being sensitive and that I should just suck it up and give it a shot. We all get along so well and we all know we like living together so it's possible it could work... But this is all uncharted waters for me and I'm having second thoughts. We looked at a new apartment today and we would have signed for it if the landlord hadn't found a more long term candidate and I'm honestly relieved. I can't help it, but hearing them fucking makes me incredibly uncomfortable and almost like a ""prisoner"" in my own home and a thirdwheel amongst my room mates. I feel incredible guilt that I'm reacting this way. I feel unreasonable and childish that I can't just nut up about it but I keep going back and forth between acceptance, anger, sadness and anxiety about my living situation. nbsp;
**tl;dr**: I love my room mates of two years, but ever since they started hooking up (past few weeks) I no longer feel comfortable living in my apartment with them. Am I being unreasonable? nbsp;
**UPDATE:** Thanks for all your help and advice, all! It means a lot to hear so many different opinions. I sent a text to my room mates that said:
""Hey guys, I've been thinking about this and I think I need to give up the search. It's been great living with you both and I love you both but I just dont think I am ready to take on a new apartment. I probably am going to stay at the current place until I get my finances more in order. I think you two should continue to look for a place together, though."" nbsp;
Hopefully they'll be understanding and the next few months won't be super awkward..."
s_785_383,"I don't really have passions anymore. First my passion for writing died,then reading and now even gaming does nothing for me. I'm like an empty shell."
s_780_75,"I know exactly what you mean. I've been thinking that suicide would be the best option for myself for the past 10+ years. I don't really know how these thoughts started and I can't rationally explain them, they've just always been there. But just thinking about how much it would destroy my family and friends won't let me actually start planing an attempt. So I've accepted by now that I will never be able to allow myself to do it. Unfortunately that doesn't keep my stupid brain from thinking about it every single moment it isn't occupied with something else. I actually think I was otherwise healthy before these thoughts started (I was too young to really remember it), but I've since developed depression (I think). Because finding the motivation to do anything when you feel you're just living for others is really hard. The thing is, if one of my friends came up to me and told me he had the same kind of thoughts I would be just as surprised and helpless as they seem to be now. And I do think that for most people living is the better option. I don't know if I'll ever find a way to get rid of these thoughts. I'll try therapy (hopefully soon) and maybe medication. I'll let you know if anything works for me. Until then I'll just keep fighting that part of myself, no matter how hard it gets and how pointless it may seem, and I hope you will do the same. I wish you the best and hope you find someone IRL to talk to."
s_454_853,"""I'm way smarter than most people, but I just have bad memory and I can't focus on anything that bores me."""
s_1483_15,"I'm stupid, worthless, and unlovable I just quit. There's no point in going on. Life is shit"
s_2338_907,"What happened to that second trimester boost of energy I kept hearing about? 21 weeks today and I can honestly say I've never been this exhausted in my life. I work a desk job and have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I slept 15 hours yesterday and 12 the day before. Could this be a sign of GD? I get exceptionally tired after I have any carbs, which I'm very aware of from doing keto before getting pregnant. I have had insulin resistance for the last 8 years. I drink diet cokes for the caffeine, but they don't do much. Coffee makes me jittery and anxious so I tend to stay away from it. I did just finish weaning off my Celexa, maybe that has a hand in all of this. On top of everything I ruined 90% of my maternity wardrobe from leaving a tube of lipstick in my jeans and then drying them with my maternity tops. I just want to run home screaming and crawl into bed for the next 19 weeks. Edit: OK I'm so thankful to see it's not just me. For those future mamas who work on your feet, you deserve a parade. I can barely make it through the day just sitting at my desk."
s_201_5,Relapsed on cutting last night I feel like a fucking failure.
s_1601_358,"I think your eating habits are better! I know it's no excuse but I was just really hungry, and I've been hungry for the past 3 months or so haha. I'm going through ""food withdrawal"" if we can say that haha. Thanks a lot! : )"
s_1255_49,"Has anyone else's depression transitioned into a sort of omnidirectional anger? I was diagnosed depressed a good ten years ago, felt that way for a lot of time before it, and I've been scraping by ever since. I've found myself lately just being so fucking angry. At everything. At everyone. I can't describe it other than just being so fucking mad all the time. My default response to just about everything is pure hatred. It's getting really hard to keep under control."
s_1404_1277,"how I remove my suicidal thoughts? please, my suicidal thoughts make me sad"
s_3019_1097,"Health update I'm getting so much better. Even little things like my skin not being so damn see through, my pigment is coming back. :) I've noticed so many positive changes, especially with my gut and my mind. The brain fog is gone. I can concentrate, I feel sane and normal again. I am finally getting some energy back, I still get some serious fatigue almost everyday between 3-6. Today was amazing. First day I woke up without stomach pain that lasts for hours! It's been 8.5 days with a candida friendly paleo ish diet and I gotta say, as a sugar/carb addict this has been as hard as quitting smokes, but honestly so worth it. I've gotten back in touch with my cooking side and have had fun doing weird shit I've always wanted to do like toast and grind my own millet, I burnt a bunch too! I feel like I've been under some moldy tarp and finally the air roots of this orchid popped through. I'll be back real soon. Right in time for the flowers :)
Struggles I'm having are definitely die off symptoms from the Candida, some serious fucking cravings, porn like dreams of whipped cream, and just overall hunger from no carbs (30g/day avg), and of course feeling chained to my kitchen."
s_759_88,I have a very hardtime making decisions. And people have said that go with your gut alot than trusting anything else.
s_1287_342,"Broke down while brushing my teeth So I actually got sent home from my job yesterday because I just felt myself on the verge of breaking down while there and I just couldn't work and I nearly broke down speaking to my manager. The last month and a half or so at work my performance has dropped rapidly without me realizing it and at the same time I've been feeling worse and worse about myself while working. I loved this job and now I just can't focus on doing it. My family has a history of behavioral health problems and that causes my anxiety to increase just by thinking about it. It also doesn't help that this amazing girl I had been talking to suddenly isn't interested even after she basically said she was. So today I got up feeling alright about myself and I just go brush my teeth and I just start crying my eyes out. I had been feeling really crappy about myself the last month or so except when I'm around others and I think this rejection was the tipping point. I always think about suicide even when I'm not feeling down on myself, but the past month and half I've thought about it more and more and the last two days it's been all over my mind. I'm usually able to shake off these feelings of despair, but I really don't see any hope in the future and I'm not sure if I want to."
s_2640_8,thank you so much. i'm very hopeful i will.
s_1452_1599,"Full time manager
3. 14M (step-son, part time contact), 8M (at home), 5F (at home). Job doesnt give me traditional weekday/weekend, but I have five work days, two off, so whatev. Typical day starts around 7am. One hour of either TV or video games. ( assuming not a schoolday). One to two hours of self-play, generally in their rooms, sometimes outside. Together time until lunch. Open afternoons, depends on what has to happen that day, sometimes errands, sometimes recreations, sometimes crafts. Dinner preparation is family time, dinner is family time. After dinner routine that leads to bedtime. Good is being a dad, stressful is getting young kids to do stuff together is like trying to herd cats. Struggling to make every day relevant, and stay involvled with the kids. I'm tired all the time, and work too much, so is tough to stay involved instead of just sleeping all day. I don't really ever feel defeated as a parent. I generally feel that I'm doing a better job than most dads in similar situations. Not really reliant on goods or services when it comes to the kids, but in the spirit of the question, would have to say either Netflix/Internet, or the Wii. They both allow the kids some time doing something that I only have to half supervise, allowing me time to do some grown-up things."
s_1082_1256,"A letter a man wrote to Elon Musk Below is the letter he wrote to Elon Musk, then tweeted was not an open letter and has constantly tried to scrub it from the internet. Letter to Elon Musk, Tesla Ceo 6/8/14 Letter to Elon Musk, Tesla Ceo Elon, I am writing you today because I want to work with you. I dont worship you or idolize you or anything like that. I am not trolling you, as some kid falsely posted online. In fact, I wasnt really aware what was happening. Someone sent me a message, that people were talking bad about me. I thought ok, I would look at it later. I was more focused on trying to raise money for my company. Only when I got home a few days later, then I fully realized what was going on like Bonn-o-Tron. I was upset by being portrayed online as a negative person. I am just a Cap looking to partner with another Cap. Thats it, plain and simple. You are a Cap by the way, short for Capitalist. You said before, How hard it is to run 2 companies. In fact, you complained about it here and there for years. I can see now though you are complaining less, which is good but still. I dont want you to complain anymore. I am here to help. I had to ask you at the Tesla Shareholders meeting because I didnt know any other way. I apologize for that. I have been trying to reach you now for 2 years, ever since 2012 shareholder meeting. I wanted to tell you that I could come on board and help you build the company. I have applied thru normal HR channels, for positions, but nothing positive as a result. I dont have a perfect resume or experience. Even though I went to college for many years, that didnt result in anything great; only average positions at best. I have been trying for many years to get promoted or get ahead somehow, but nothing. No real opportunities. I have been turned down several times just because of lack of BS Degree, even though I have 120 credits since 2005. I hate when people assume stuff about me and then spread lies. This has been going on most of my adult life. It would have been a normal request of asking you for a work position. But right before, I talked to Jeff Evanson of Investor Relations. I told him the extra question I was going to ask you and he said, This is not the place for that. I told Jeff, How much of a genius I was. Jeff responded something like, Elon has good people around him. After some more words, that was it. I thought, how many Caps does Elon have around him? At that point I became frustrated. I thought when do things get better for me? I am trying to do good things for others. The shareholders thought I was taking up their time, they didnt realize I am here to give them time. My 2nd question was supposed to be, I would like to speak to you for a few minutes afterwards on how I can help Tesla. You would benefit personally and Tesla would as a whole. But since I was frustrated, an emotional plea came out. And I am sorry for that. I had to say something. You said, There is no Vice Chairman position. Well, you know, we can always create one. I felt disappointed, but got over it and went to lunch afterwards. I had a good meal and time with members of the Tesla Motors Club. There is a cool picture online. I am on the left. During lunch, it felt a little awkward. I told people that I was genius like Steve Jobs. I am no better than anyone. I am just beyond most people. I know you can relate. I respect Jeff Evanson and what he has done in IR. He has grown as a person, since meeting him 2 years ago. He is doing a great job. But he didnt realize how much I was at the bottom. To be honest, I am actually a high level person on the inside; even though I look like a low level person on the outside. If you speak to me for five minutes on the phone, you can see that. If you meet with me for 15 minutes, you can see how much of very rich mind I am. You would be proud to know me. One skill you have is that can you assess people quickly. So can I. Recently, people have painted me online as some nut job or something, far from it. I am actually pretty brilliant. And I am hoping one day, someone realizes that. Maybe you will. I want to give you a little history about myself. And then talk more about Tesla and what I can bring to the company. So allow me to do that. I actually started on the Internet, back in Fall of 1995. I was a student at Temple University. About the same year as you I believe, I made a webpage. It was cool. I thought about making something like Yahoo.com. In fact I did, and had the site on Temples webserver. It got a good number of hits, like 60 a day. I was really interested in the website, not really interested in school. I remember picking up a copy of Bill Gates book, The Road Ahead. I read a few pages and thought, If he can drop out of school and build a business, Why cant I? Well I quickly put the book down and ran off to CIS Class. Later, I got into some web design but more trading stocks. Over the years, I wanted to drop out of college many times, but everyone told me to stay in school. I focused on school mostly rather than my work. My big mistake, but I did what I was told to do. I dont listen to people who play it safe anymore. I have done that my whole life and have gone nowhere. When I look back on it today, that was potentially a $10 Million business that I could have sold and started my entrepreneurial drive. It was the late 1990s and the Internet was hot. I missed out on the Internet revolution simply because of poor advice from others. Forward to 2004, the year I started on my self-education. School education has not really taken me anywhere. This is where my real education and enlightenment began. I read over 20 books that year: money, investing, business, etcI also learned that some people learn differently than others and that not everyone will pass certain subjects as easily as others. That year is also when I became a genius. I pursued music ventures that year in my company. For years now, I continued to learn. Many times I tried to find good work, but it was never available to me. Late 2008, I started to work in an Internet company as a Customer Sales Rep. The work was fine. Later, there was an opening to become a supervisor. I applied, but was turned down. The reason? The other candidate had a degree. I experienced this many times in other companies being turned down on a regular basis. I remember studying success and asking myself, What would make me most happy? I turned back to investing, something I started in college in 1997, but only started to really learn about in 2004. Since 2004, I have been investing in stocks, making some money along the way. I left my storage company job in 2012, where I was employed in customer service. Again, I always tried to move up in the company. I told my boss how much I learned on my own, but was turned down again for a possible promotion. When you are labeled as an average worker, you stay one I guess. I am nothing but average. Not only has my mind expanded since 2004, I also have learned more by entrepreneurial experiences. As much as I would like to work at a higher position, I would be given an entry-level position, at best. People always told me I am not qualified. And that always bothered me. They didnt realize who they were speaking to. I admit I was more in a low financial position, so it was difficult to try more entrepreneurial activities. I had made mistakes, but we learn from them and move on like Bonn-o-Tron. I just recently had a financial setback. Trading stocks is stupid and eventually leads to losses. I was better off managing stocks. But that wasnt taking me anywhere, either. It is funny I actually grossed more from the stock market, than I have with my college education. I actually had 1000 shares of Tesla at $24. But I listened to others, especially that JP fellow; when I should have listened to you more (my fellow Cap). Today, I admit I have 100 shares. I learned more now it is about long-term partnering, rather than short-term trading. I always told myself, I can always do investment management if the job ever came. I asked myself about picking stocks, but something would be missing in my life. Fast forward to today, 2014. I realize now so much how the world works. I have a much better understanding about money and business. My mind is clearer than ever. I am a capitalist. I am here to build and create in big ways. I have more street smarts now than book smarts. In my own company, I wanted to solve a major problem in our society. If people knew what problem I was trying to solve, they would be giving me a hug right now, instead of trying to hang me out to dry. I care a lot about society and the world. I do appreciate some of the support I received, but much more criticism. People think that 1 minute video is all me. That dont realize how much of a whole person I am. They would be surprised on who they are talking about. Some have criticized my College Truth 2 videos. They have useful information. So what if I act a little goofy in them. I believe Richard Branson said, You want to take your work seriously, but you dont have to take yourself seriously. How many people act serious, but yet dont do serious things? Now some realize that I am not some nut. To my critics out there, No one on this planet could ever bring me down with their words. I am too strong on the inside. Your words may hurt, but I will still be standing. What I started doing for my company is stealth recruiting. The problem with a normal interview is that people are on their best behavior not their actual behavior. You want to see people in their normal space and then evaluate accordingly. Eventually I am going to need team members for my company. So I started going around to retail stores and looking for people. I would interact with them, see who they are, see what they are about, ask questions, etc... In the future, to the ones I like, I would offer them a Round 1 interview. Many are college grads and I know they would like to do something better; even if it is just an internship for now. I am doing something in the product design field. One reason I wanted to work at Tesla is because the design process is the same. Tesla designed a sophisticated product and brought it to market. I intend to do the same for Royalus Design; though it would be a much simpler product that I would bring to market but sell in high volume. Either way the process is the same. I get to learn production methods and you have a true cap in front of you ready to help build and create. There is a huge revolution coming and I plan to be part of that. I missed the last one. There is also future vehicle development that I am interested in. I am studying flight dynamics, so the Model S or future Tesla cars or planes can be flight ready. That is where the future of transport is going and we want Tesla to be ready for it. I want to share a story with you. While in CA that week, I went to raise money for my company. I saw a person exiting a Model S. Ok great I will park by and say Hi. I asked this person, How do you like the car? The person told me that this car was a rental and his was in the shop. Apparently his Tesla suffered a major failure. That is odd I thought. I looked at the Model S rental car concerned, Why is this happening? This is unacceptable. It has been 2 years that the car has been in production, since 2012. Something like that got my attention and it bothered me. We talked some more. He then gave me his card and I left. He was running a startup. Also that week, I went to the SolarCity annual meeting. That was a short but useful meeting of good information. So much, it made me want to buy more shares; though I am short on cash at the moment. A gentleman was ready to fund me some cash, when I told him I was working on something big. That felt good when someone was willing to take a chance on you. What I bring to Tesla is very simple. I am a cap genius. I am a person who has very high aptitude and ability. I want to use that at your company. I am a right-brain genius by the way; a philosopher and entrepreneur. I am someone who brings a different perspective to the table. I am a thinker. I think most of the day. I also have great vision. I have much integrity, intelligence, and energy. I know you can relate to that. When you can see the future, you go for it. You dont waste time with people who cant. You know about that Musk. Being a leader is bringing out the best in everyone to achieve a common purpose. I believe I can do that well. I would like to be given the chance to do that at Tesla. Where I am at today is probably where you were 10 years ago. So you can understand where I am coming from. I can learn fast and become a great contributor. Society will get better when more societal capitalists come online. I am one of them. Me being offline does not help society at all. Help me come online Musk. Help me come online. I know there have been times you hired someone, who you thought was going to be great and they turned out to be not so great. I ask you do the reverse here and hire someone who looks not so great that can turn out to be great. This is 2nd look I am asking for Elon. If you havent done so already, please look over my resume and book. I gave a copy to Deepak Ahuja after the shareholder meeting. Deepak was considerate enough to speak to me for a moment. The position, I would come in now as, would be Consultant to CEO. I would be your extra eyes and ears while overseeing various projects and duties (like public speaking, presentations, talking to investors, media events, etc...). I could probably free up a third of your time. You would have a very rich and advanced mind looking after the company. I would report to you directly. I believe you stated you spend 2 days at Tesla. How would you like to spend 1 day at Tesla? Bring me on board and in time that could happen. I know you wouldnt just hand over your company to just anyone. I wouldnt either. But I am not just anyone. My last question to you Elon, is this? Warren Buffet has Charlie Munger as his partner. Larry Page has his Sergey Brin. Who does Elon Musk have? You could have Roy Philipose, as your partner. There is an equal in front of you today Elon Musk and you would want to embrace that and not dismiss it like others have. I want to thank you Elon, for your time and consideration. Please contact me back either way. Yours, Roy Cap Philipose Philosopher/Entrepreneur from Philadelphia"
s_186_136,"The place Im looking at for surgery doesn't recommend lap bands anymore. They also don't recommend or do duodenal switches as far as I have heard. I THINK, it's because the results aren't as good. But also because it's a foreign object in your body and if you dislodge it or have complications they have to operate to remove it and usually dont put another one in due to trauma or whatever caused by the one that came loose. I know of at least one person who had the lap band and had major complications with it, resulting in them having a herniated stomach, where the stomach moves up into the ribcage area. And then because of that, the bile of the stomach would collect in their esophagus when they slept....
They are getting a gastric sleeve as a replacement for the removal of the lap band to go along with the surgery to fix the herniation. Im looking at getting the gastric sleeve, I am......150-200 pounds over my ""goal weight"" depending on where I want to end up. Your weight loss should be based on your BMI as well, a short person 70 pounds over weight is worse off than a very tall person 100 pounds overweight. The tall (man presumably) is going to lose the weight faster just due to their size and will take less a calorie cut to see results. Where a short woman will have to cut pretty significantly to see results most likely. Also my surgery choice also does not recommend exercise at first if you are higher on the BMI scale because of possible injuries. I think it also helps you to better determine a diet you will lose weight on no matter what. Then add in exercise when you feel your energy levels and ability to more easily carry the rest of the weight increase. A number of people post surgery talk about their energy levels being crazy high, I guess due to the hormone changes and more protein intense diet. But I've lost about 30-40 on my own so far and havent felt any major changes in energy levels, in fact I think the weight loss might be causing my depression to become worse due to the stored fat being burned containing hormones and them being released. Plus you don't get those little ""food highs"" if you cut out your trigger foods. For surgery, IF you struggle to lose and keep weight off, get the surgery. It'll depend on your BMI, but if you keep going back and forth, eventually you're going to get tired of it and say screw it. Plus wouldn't you like to be skinnier and healthier, earlier rather than later? I wish I had the option 10 years ago, and so does everyone else I've talked to. They wish they could have did it much earlier in life and the majority of them say ""I was fat for as long as I can remember."" Or at least since their teens, it's no way to live if you're unhappy with it and it only gets worse as you age and your body starts to have medical issues due to it."
s_2081_183,"I'm fairly upset at myself. Went to a concert on Friday with a group of friends from church, knowing a girl I like would be going as well. We all went (there was maybe 8 of us) and stayed as a group *the entire time*. I could never manage to find a moment to pull the girl aside and ask her out. I was stressing out about it the entire time. There's another church activity tonight, so maybe I'll have better luck there (though I doubt it)."
s_708_810,"I've been having panic attacks as I'm falling asleep...any suggestions? Every night, just as I'm drifting off, I am having full-on panic attacks and it takes an hour minimum to get myself calmed back down to try and sleep again. I was to a point where I was not having regular attacks for about a month, then the last 2 weeks, BAM. Anyone have any tips for me? I am to the point I am dreading going to bed."
s_2387_451,"I still am facing internalized texturism, colorism, and featurism. I hate a lot of things about myself like my nose, my skin, my hair, etc. and its really hard at times. And most of my hatred for my features was sadly reinforced by my own mother."
s_1271_1197,"I didn't develop it until I was about 24. I became depressed after partying hard for a few years, doing drugs and wasting my life. I became completely disillusioned with myself, to the point where I didn't believe in the person I always felt myself to be until then. A fear overtook me, if I wasn't who I thought I was, who was I? Who was going to become now? Was I going to become someone evil? The feeling of depression made me think my soul was gone rotten. I started reading the bible to learn how to live properly, but all I could see was condemnation and I became convinced I was going to hell. A particular line where Jesus says something like 'you shouldn't even imagine being with your neighbour's wife because it's the same as doing it' (I'm paraphrasing) convinced me to think a sinful thought was the same as committing that sin. I thought, ok, I must not think any sinful thoughts. Which of course, sparked them off. Everytime I had a violent thought I freaked out and tried to suppress it or pulverise that part of my mind. All this just made the thoughts stronger and more persistent. I wonder if I done things differently, if I hadn't gotten so out of control, if I had got better help, if I hadn't read bible, would I have been ok? I'm nearly forty now, it's been a very difficult 16 years, although I have gotten a lot better. I also appreciate that OCD forced me to become a much person through all the changes I made to try and get better. I hope to leave it behind, someday soon, I live in hope of getting better and leaving it behind."
s_2459_691,"Ativan withdrawl I was on 14 mg of Ativan a day, and my psychiatrist decided to take me completely off of it. I haven't been able to sleep for like a week..."
s_1404_727,"I barely eat anything but im not losing weight? ( I have depression) I eat 1 or 2 meals per day. Im not hungry. In the past I ate alot more. Looking at what I eat, I know I lack alot of nutrients. protein, calories, vitamins. I lack all of it. is it normal to not be hungry with depression?"
s_2706_897,"The entire fucking show tore me apart. I have watched it 3 times and I still cry every time. I think the one that really gets my soul is Denny. As much as everyone hates Katherine Heigl, I think she did a phenomenal job portraying izzy's pain. The episode after he dies, where she's just lying on the bathroom floor... I don't think I stopped crying that while episode."
s_151_568,"I'm balling my eyes out right now I've been sober 420 days, and that's the greatest fucking number. I'm so happy, I can't stop crying. I'm officially a pussy. You guys rock."
s_1933_60,"Feelings of guilt and namelessness? About four months ago, I started coming out as genderfluid to my closest friends. I'm FAAB and my name/nickname were both really feminine. I like my birth name (Erica), but I feel sort of disconnected from it, and I wanted to shed my nickname (Rikka) because I wanted to shed my names like old skin and come out as the real me. I started going by James. I know it's a masculine name, but it's my favorite name, and I didn't see any issue with being called James no matter how I presented. Now I've got two issues. I feel no connection to any of my names. I see Erica and I think, that's someone who isn't me. That's who I am when I'm with my mother, or my grandparents. When I see Rikka, I wince. I don't even know why. Maybe because so many awful things happened to me while I went by that name? When I see James, though, I don't associate it with me. It made me happy, at first, being called James, but now I'm just sort of confused. Is that a sign I should find a new name? On top of having no connection to my names, I have recently been feeling more feminine, and I feel guilty. I didn't really make a big deal out of being a dude to my friends, I did ask one of my very closest friends to use male pronouns while talking to people who don't know me, and she uses them with me sometimes, which is fine still. It's not really about pronouns for me, not at the moment. I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling really. For a while, I stopped shaving my legs, because it looked more masculine to have super hairy legs and I could just tell people ""I'm too lazy"" or ""I wear pants all the time so who cares"", but it was sort of a small thing I could have that no one could see (like I said, I wear pants most of the time). I told one friend that I stopped shaving (I can't remember why now). Recently, I started shaving again, though. When I mentioned something about shaving my legs to the same friend, he questioned it. I felt defensive. I told him about the genderfluid stuff, so why couldn't I just say ""I've been feeling girly""? **tl;dr**
1. I feel disconnected from my names, including one I chose for myself, and feel nameless. I feel guilty for wanting to present as feminine, because I'm FAAB."
s_1738_353,"I will most likely end my life when my parents finally pass away from old age. They are pretty old as it is. I think this is the right decision for me and nobody can make that decision. I want to go out peacefully and in a comfortable environment. The only problem is I'm afraid of the process of dying. Once you're dead, I would imagine you can no longer feel any pain so that's good. But the pain of dying is traumatic as it is. Still, why live past a certain age if I'm just gonna get older, grayer and less healthy? Do I want to get cancer and start shitting the bed in my 60s? I failed at life as it is and I'm still not gray yet."
s_1856_48,"Partner(26M) brushes off my feelings. He says he doesn't care for these woman but daily looks them up. Insecurities are getting to me and I don't know what to do anymore. Back story:My (F26) partner (M26) of 8+ years , we haven't had the perfect relationship. We started dating the beginning year of Sr. Year in high school. We were friends before getting into this relationship. Soit started ok but got really rocky after a couple of years. I myself have never been a sexual person because trauma as a child. I've gone to therapy and have improved but still little no desire to have any sexual activity. The thing is that my partner has always has a high libido and me well I don't. So it ends up with us fighting because of this I get it the man has needs. He goes out of his way to not worry me and handles his needs privately. I've never had any problems with him watching porn,, because who doesn't watch it? I can't please him so he gets off on watching that. But lately I've been noticing he's been searching up specific woman on ig. I don't know if he uses these pictures and clips to get off but he denies that he's doesn't search woman up I've caught him looking in specific woman and there's a couple in particular that we went to high school with and they have become those girls who take ass shots in bikinis and whatnot. What gets to me is he denies its so hard and says he has no interest in them. Excuse me why do you keep searching them up on the daily? He doesn't message them or Comment on their post but checks up on their page. He has had a very sexual past and I feel like my insecurities are getting to me again.its to the point where I feel like I'm not doing it for him anymore. I try and seems like ita not enough. He brushes off my feelings for this situation like it doesn't matter. He lies and keeps this away from but at what cost to protect my feelings. I rather have him be honest than hide all this from me.. I really hate this. Am I overthinking this shit or what because I'm losing my mind"
s_2402_1003,"Why am I still wasting my time No matter how worse I've gotten, I haven't had the balls to kill myself. I know where to go to and what with, but I just can't do it. I don't wanna live but I don't want to pass my pain onto anyone else, but I'm getting real sick and tired of it now and I think I'm gonna try again before Halloween. Hopefully I'm not a coward for once in my life."
s_782_23,"I'm tired of pretending to be okay Yesterday would've been my aniversary with my ex had she not cheated on me by having an emotional affair with some prick, I've been trying to do my best in my studies to support my household, I've tried to show a good face and help around the house without showing what I really felt, and now my mother snapped at me (and my ""step father"") after I forgot tomorrow it was mothers' day. She basically tried to say I always forget and don't do things she asks for and that maybe I've been taught that I'm given everything for free without effort and basically painted it as if I was a freeloader and ""knew"" she wasn't the best mum, and also had choice words for my step father. Everything was fine today and last days, nothing out of the ordinary until she figured out we wouldn't be celebrating it. I'm a wreck. For once I feel bad and guilty for that. I'm really bad at keeping in touch with the date and I've had a lot in my head last days, but I also feel insulted and I feel everything I've done is unappreciated and doesn't matter. I'm not even living for myself but for her, my grandmother and my two pets,but this is miserable. I don't want to live yet I'm emotionally forced to and I have to keep a nice expression and keep studying and keeping myself distracted from the fact that I want nothing in this life but to lose it. I hate that I was brought to this world by two parents who weren't compatible at all with each other, I hate to have been born the way I am, both physically and mentally, I hate having to take 8 pills+ a day just to be ""fine"", I hate always being hungry and anxious, I hate having strong headaches when I exercise. I've been done with life for a long time, but I have to keep living for others. What are you even supposed to do? How do normal people live for so long? For me it's painful."
s_1752_5,This brought tears to my eyes! I am telling you that you can do it. Before my surgery I struggled every day with the same feelings as you...I had no idea if anything was working and I always felt low on energy. Just give it some time and you will pull through. Just try to focus on something positive and happy :) I find the sunshine really helps me...when i'm feeling low because I've had a slow week or I'm lacking energy I sit in the sun :D
s_435_1045,"That doesn't give you any real security and I doubt any real fire protection, either. In other words, you're getting what you paid for it. It will work for *storing* your silver, but not *securing* it. There's a big difference. Just my worthless opinion."
s_676_344,When my emotions become too overwhelming. Normally when I feel extreme guilt and rage towards myself about how I reacted to a situation or if I was a complete dick. I do it as a release of all my emotions. I don't really think and got into a full blown anger which I only want to inflict on myself.
s_356_57,I'd be lying if I said i didnt cry sometimes about this. It's rare that i cry but sometimes after school or work I lay down and just realize how lonely I really am. How sad I really am. I put my academic life ahead of my mental health out of paranoia and anxiety and cant help but wish I had someone around.
s_1082_1774,I'm killing myself ![ gif](giphy|XgXyfLgsf08yAoyrom)
s_4_264,"I was lucky enough to get a thousand dollar mattress for 90% off because a store was closing, and now i dont feel the vibrations either. Probably any quality mattress could solve this issue. I see videos where people buy top of the line gear, but use the cheapest bed they can find. But, I would say it is worth spending a good amount of money on a comfortable bed, which is arguably the most important part of your set up. I sleep so much better, and am able to enjoy my trip a lot more, because i am much more awake and alert."
s_1749_295,"How bad my health is, how it is ruining my life, and the fact that I will never get better. I am seriously not even cool to be around because all I can think about is how fucked I am and how I can get the medical attention I need."
s_433_1570,"We're always told Hamlet's famous ""To be or not to be"" was a soliloquy. A Monologue is a speech that is spoken to someone else, or at least another character on the stage hears it. A Soliloquy, is a speech spoken to nobody, and only the audience hears it, not any other character in the play. So which is this? When Shakespeare writes dialog, they say what they mean. If hes talking about Love, hes in love. If hes talking about killing someone, hes angry and really wants to kill them. It is, for the most part, difficult to lie in Shakespearean speech, without a stage direction saying, He or She is lying. There are exceptions, but they just have to be supported by the text. The things other people say, or what that character says before or after the incident in question. In other words, they do say what they mean, unless there is evidence to support otherwise. What is it even saying anyway? To be, or not to be...
Be as in existing. To exist or not to exist, to live or not to live. Okay, hes openly questioning if he should live or die. So, this speech is about whether or not Hamlet should kill himself, which isnt totally out of the blue; at the beginning of the play, the first time Hamlet is onstage alone, he contemplates it there as well. Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them. Which is better? Just take my wealth and position, keeping my mouth shut, but be racked with guilt over it, or to actually stand up for what I believe in, even though it would destroy and kill me and my family? To die, to sleep-
No more, and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. But if Im dead, no more pain, no more suffering, no more guilt, and all the problems I have now just go away. Hey, that sounds pretty good...
To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, theres the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Must give us pause. Theres the respect
That makes calamnity of so long life...
And if its all just a long sleep, whats on that other side? Its supposed to be so wonderful; thats why we endure all the crap in this world. It goes on, but we can see its basically a suicide note of sorts, or at least a contemplation on the part of Hamlet. Just before Hamlet comes on stage to give this speech, Claudius and Polonius, the murderous King and his Crony are talking with Ophelia, Polonius daughter, and Queen Gertrude. The Queen leaves... okay, now 3 on the stage. Polonius
then says:
Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,
We will bestow ourselves. Hes telling Ophelia, Hamlets Girlfriend, to hang out here. But we will bestow ourselves.? The archaic meaning of bestow is to stow, deposit, store. So... lets store ourselves? Lets stow ourselves? Theyre saying, Lets go hide, which they then do. They exit, and Hamlet enters, talking all morbid. But Ophelia is still on-stage. There is no Ophelia exits, nor is there Ophelia re-enters, so shes there the whole time while Hamlet talks about killing himself. So, is the speech an aside that no one else hears? No, because at least one other person hears it, if not three. Hamlet finishes, then sees Ophelia, they have a big argument, and he gets crazy with the nunnery bit. Exit Hamlet; enter back in Claudius and Polonius, talking about how mad Hamlet seemed because they absolutely heard him and Hamlet knew this. Then Polonius says:
How now, Ophelia? You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;
We heard it all. So, they did hear it! In most all the previous scenes, and the ones after, Hamlet is very active; hes planning, plotting, getting things ready; hes already made some written contributions for the Theatre troupe thats preparing to perform for the Royal Court. Hes been pushing his plans forward to trap the King and give the final proof he needs to show that the King did in fact kill his father. Since seeing the ghost of his dead dad, hes been consumed by this desire for justice and revenge. Suddenly, for this 1 scene, he does a complete 180 degrees and finds it a good idea to kill himself? Yes, he contemplated it in the beginning, but keep in mind, that was BEFORE he found out his father was murdered. He didn't have any motivations as he does now. At that time, it was thought to be natural causes and the will of God, and hence, theres no one to get mad at, because no one did anything wrong. When the issue of murder comes up, that changes everything and revenge becomes his motive. Suicide is a non-solution. Its a passive thing to do compared to the rest of the events going on. Its the easy way out, and Hamlet has been setting up these plots and plays with Machiavellian precision, which is definitely not the easy way to do anything. One could claim this speech shows another side to the character of Hamlet, but would that do anything to move the story forward? On its own, it doesnt. The full text of this play can run upwards of 4 hours long. How many people will sit for a 4 hour movie when it has parts that go nowhere? Is this speech Shakespeares way of saying, Heres a bathroom break? It is NOT a soliloquy! Ophelia was on-stage. Claudius and Polonius are hiding, and listening in, and Hamlet knows it! That means his whole suicide speech is by design. Hes already spent a few scenes convincing people that hes gone mad, and there IS method in it. The King and crony are trying to figure out if its true. Now, hes actively deceiving them, so that would make this speech something that moves the plot forward. Its just another part of Hamlets master
plan, and so far, theyre falling right into it. More evidence: The last time we saw Hamlet on stage, he meets The Players, and asks the head player to give a short, impromptu performance, who readily obliges him. Then, everyone else ends up leaving the stage, leaving Hamlet, alone, for real this time. Here he has a real soliloquy (he even mentions hes all alone) whereupon he marvels at the performance that head player just gave. In fact, he realizes, and is very much ashamed at the fact, that the actor has just
shown more intensity and commitment in his task of that brief performance than Hamlet has in HIS task of avenging his fathers murder. Hamlet has just mentally smacked himself, reminding him to start raising the stakes, or hes going to fail at his task, and also realized the importance of acting as a role in his deceptions. So I'm supposed to believe that suddenly, the very next words he speaks on stage are implying the direct opposite? That he wants to kill himself? A soliloquy of his innermost thoughts that says he needs to step it up followed by another saying the complete opposite? Even MORE evidence: Shakespeares original source for Hamlet. This is NOT an original play by Shakespeare. It had been done previously by other playwrights and writers. The original source is called Historia Danica by Saxo Grammaticus. It chronicles the story of Prince Amlothi, also referred to as Amlethus. Pull off the u-s at the end, move the ""H"" to the front, and you have ""Hamlet."" The plot matches the play exactly. The father of Amlethus is murdered by his brother who then marries Amlethus mother, the Prince seeks revenge. A large part of his plan has to do with feigning madness. Two attempts are made to prove hes actually sane, one of which is to tempt him into lechery, the thinking being that any man who lusts for women cannot truly be insane. His uncle arranges for a woman to casually run into Amlethus in the forest to seduce him while they watch, which is the prototype scene for this Hamlet/Ophelia scene. But Amlethus is warned of the trap ahead of time, so he makes his own arrangements to whisk her off to a hidden place away from the eyes of the Kings agents, who gets her to tell him everything. He also has sex with her, because why wouldn't he? But in the view of the Kings agents, he continues his act of being batshit insane. ""To Be or Not To Be"" is not a soliloquy; it is a monologue!"
s_2016_203,"I've been doing it for years in family photos because I feel uncomfortable when they take pictures of me. I wish I could smile but now if I do they start giving me snarky comments like ""Wow!!! You're actually smiling!!! Finally!!!!"" So I'm just discouraged no matter what I do. Might as well just frown... Oh well."
s_1404_866,Is it appropriate to tell my classmates about my depression? I have to work together with them and they ofcourse expect me to do my part of the assignments. But I can't get enough done because of my mental issues and low energy. Should I tell my classmates that I have depression? Im afraid they will see me as an attention seeker.
s_41_1114,"Words of advice I really want to enter into a relationship. I think I have an opportunity to do so. Yet, I still struggle pornography etc etc etc. I don't want to end up hurting someone or myself through a gross habit. I'm not really sure what to say beyond that. I have the desire to stop and succeed at times and other times, I fail. I wanna kick this before getting into something serious. Any words of advice would be great."
s_1551_42,"Fuck depression I cant wrap my head around why its so hard for me to reach out for help. Suffering for years, alone, youd think Id try harder to get better and be happy. But I didnt, and now the guilt is eating me alive. Wasted so much time, years of my youth and opportunities lost. Didnt get to have the best years of my life like a normal 18-22 year old. I feel so hopeless and helpless most days, loneliness and constantly comparing myself to others doesnt help. Seriously, fuck depression."
s_1601_1053,"50% of us were cursed. I was unfortunately born a female. Now being a female itself is alright, but when nature chooses you to carry the burden of procreation, that's when it sucks. And it is to happen for at least 40 years, 12 times a year, 6 days a month. I honestly never made a big deal out of it the first time, even the second time, but then it became excessively painful. Being anemic, I would lose consciousness all the time, miss school, vomit ... it was terrible. For the past year though, it has been better. No loss of consciousness (though I do feel dizzy from time to time), less vomiting (though now everything is coming out — at the same speed I should say — at the other end), and no missing scheduled activities. However one thing has not changed: I feel gross. I am not even affected by how society views this ""normal and healthy"" part of a female's life. Whatever people say, periods are gross. It smells, it's uncomfortable, it's messy, and there's no way to control it. I'm pretty sure if once a month, the anus decided to evacuate on its own for six days straight and all you could do is sit in a diaper at all time, it would feel the same way. One week a month, I stop working. I lose my appetite, I lose my motivation and my energy. I lose my focus and my memory as well. All my movements feel automated. I hate leaving my room when it happens. All I do is go back-and-forth between there and the bathroom. Being in College and all, I obviously have to leave my house almost every day, but I spend most of my time worrying about leakage and smell. No amount of good hygienes will change the fact that as I'm sitting down in the middle of 30+ people, blood is coming out of my vagina, and I'm sitting in it. I could shower thrice a day, change my pad every hour or empty a bottle of perfume on my nether region, nothing would change. I am amazed at how very few females seem affected by their period. I applaud those women. Unfortunately I am not at their level. I cannot stop thinking about what is happening between my legs because I can feel it. I don't like this feeling of uncleanness, as if I haven't wiped in a year. I cannot deal with this smell I can't seem to detach myself from, even though now I've learned it's all in my head. I can't deal with the fact that it leads to my inactivity, as if my body is slowly shutting down on me. It's been nearly a decade and I still haven't gotten my shit together. I've failed mother nature."
s_2476_278,New documents reveal 'smirking' Jeffrey Epstein said he was not suicidal in days before death: 'Why would you ever think I would be suicidal? I am not suicidal and I would never be'
s_2107_89,i know how you feel. i am angry all the time. everything annoys me. my body aches. i get fatigued. keep venting. keep talking.
s_676_124,I always beat myself up. It is a full time job at this rate. I try not to but I fail successfully. My last hangover was awful and I haven't had a drink since then. Instead I decided to go through 800 packs of gum. I have a low vitamin count due to Lupus so I have to take pills but sometimes I use drinks.
s_73_385,"I need help with water reflections and TES4LODGen So, I've been trying to fix something I thought was a problem for three days now. Apparently the water reflections of an unmodded Oblivion flickers like hell. I first thought it was a mod causing it, but after reinstalling and wiping the game, as well as installing the game on another computer, it seems that vanilla Oblivion has some weird water reflections. I don't mean just turning on water reflections in the in-game settings. In the oblivion.ini file, you can turn on water reflections for actors, statics, misc, and so on. These types of reflections flicker a lot for me. So I just decided to turn them off and be content with the regular reflections. Now to the most recent problem: for some reason, after using TES4LODGen (with several mods relating to LOD), these flickering water reflections return. Doesn't matter what settings I put in oblivion.ini, they are always there. I've tried using TES4LODGen without any LOD-related mods such as Evenstars Colourwheel or J3 Atlassed VWD, and then the reflections are gone again. But it isn't a specific mod, it's just when TES4LODGen uses resources provided by some LOD-related mod. I am at a complete loss as to what to do. I can't find anything on the internet. Also, I followed this guide when choosing and installing mods: [<URL>](<URL>) Here's the list of my mods: Oblivion.esm All Natural Base.esm Cobl Main.esm Cobl Glue.esp Unofficial Oblivion Patch.esp DLCShiveringIsles.esp Unofficial Shivering Isles Patch.esp Cobl Si.esp DLCHorseArmor.esp DLCHorseArmor - Unofficial Patch.esp DLCOrrery.esp DLCOrrery - Unofficial Patch.esp DLCVileLair.esp DLCVileLair - Unofficial Patch.esp DLCMehrunesRazor.esp DLCMehrunesRazor - Unofficial Patch.esp DLCSpellTomes.esp DLCThievesDen.esp DLCThievesDen - Unofficial Patch.esp DLCThievesDen - Unofficial Patch - SSSB.esp DLCBattlehornCastle.esp DLCBattlehornCastle - Unofficial Patch.esp DLCFrostcrag.esp DLCFrostcrag - Unofficial Patch.esp Knights.esp Knights - Unofficial Patch.esp Dynamic Map.esp Harvest \[Flora\].esp Enhanced Vegetation \[150%\].esp All Natural - Real Lights.esp All Natural.esp All Natural - SI.esp Immersive Interiors - Imperial City.esp OblivionDeadLands.esp Travelers of Cyrodiil.esp RoadLights.esp Unique Chapels.esp Falling Leaves.esp VanillaCombatEnhanced.esp StarX Vampire Deaths.esp BalancedMagic.esp Magic Effects OBSE Tweaks.esp MinimalMagicEffects.esp Automatic Attributes.esp RshAlchemy.esp New skill - Unarmored.esp LINK.esp ACCCGR SI.esp Immersive Interiors.esp Immersive Interiors - Landscape Addon.esp Immersive Interiors - Bravil.esp lNewGems.esp QQuix - Rock, rock, rock your ship - V3.esp lVWD for Leyawiin.esp BrumasNorthernLights.esp RshAlchemyRecipes.esp GOSH.esp Weapons Of Morrowind.esp Unique Artifacts for Unique People.esp Auto Update Leveled Items And Spells.esp BrumaGuildReconstructed.esp Immersive Interiors - Bruma Guild Reconstructed.esp AoG - Is Anybody Home.esp Colorful Clothing - Middleclass.esp Colorful Clothing - Upperclass.esp Colorful Clothing - Gloves.esp Rebalanced and Unleveled QGR.esp Enhanced Grabbing.esp FormID Finder4.esp Tavern Goers 2 - Redux.esp Tavern Goers 2 - Redux SI.esp LightYourWay.esp Magic Visuals Overhaul.esp RAEVWD New Sheoth.esp WindowLightingSystem.esp Enhanced Water v2.0 HD.esp Bashed Patch, 0.esp"
s_151_583,that's sad.... now i'm sad....
s_2184_265,"thats ok, you dont have to feel bad. this really is my problem and i feel guilty causing strangers to feel bad for me. i tried a bunch of meds for about a year but none of them helped at all. they only made me gain weight. i used to be able to drag myself to work/class, but now ive missed so many classes that i risk failing. ive been depressed since ive been a toddler, and wanted to hang myself in elementary school. There have been ""highs"" and lows, but things have taken a turn for the absolute worst this year and i feel theres no way out. i really really have tried sooo hard to get better. I wasted so much money on all sorts of programs and meds, and im worse. i want to believe this will pass, i really do, but i also have to be realistic with myself. i know the cycle i am in. i know it will never end. i cannot live this way"
s_1620_705,Apparently someone already put this up. I didn't see it on here so I thought I was the first person to post it and then learn that someone beat my by an hour. So I have to call my own post a repost. I'm so sad..
s_1269_76,I still don't have a great appetite on effexor but at least I can eat normal amounts.
s_329_8,"Giving up on life :'( so badly wanted to throw myself off the freeway overpass today into fast moving traffic and I think the only reason I didn't is because I was afraid i would fail somehow. All I seem to do is fail. Fail at life, fail at getting a job, fail at making friends... The lists is never ending."
s_2602_722,"I've been sitting here crying intermittently after a long, mostly emotional wrenching conversation with my wife. It's just so fucking hard and I can't pretend that I'm normal right now when everything is coming to pieces. edit: oh and since we're talking about dogs, wife guilted me into giving the dog back to her and now I can't bring myself to take him back, even though he's MY dog!"
s_2487_330,I cry myself to sleep
s_356_105,"Im going to kill myself by Friday. I hate myself. I seriously can not do this anymore. I try and try and try. I feel so empty. I no longer want to live. Honestly, im so fucking angry. I want to fuck myself up. I hate myself with a passion. All i fucking do is push people away no matter how much i love them. I want to be alone. I dont need anyone. I fucking hate myself and do not deserve to fucking live. I hope i die. I do not want to exist. I feel so empty. Im sorry that my life crossed path with all of yours. I want to fucking die. Fuck me, fuck my life, and fuck everyone who has taken my kindness for granted. Maybe i do care too much. Maybe i care so much because im scared. Maybe i care too much to compensate for how shitty i am. I am going to disappear from everyones life for a while. Im going to crack but i may just disappear for a long time. I may just kill myself. I no longer know who i am. Ive lost myself. I feel like i no longer exist. Do not miss me."
s_1779_24,"The Changing - Part 3 [Part 1](<URL>)
[Part 2](<URL>)
I awaken in the Shardstake's basement. It's been converted into some kind of mini cinema. It has about twenty old, red seats in rows. I'm sitting, tied to the middlemost chair in the front row. All the other seats are occupied by dead bodies. Some of them are already skeletal, some are still decomposing. The smell stings my eyes. I am determined not to throw up. My head throbs with pain in the bump that Benny gave me when he knocked me unconscious earlier. I look around and see that there are bodies sitting upright against the walls also. I hear the door creak open and Penny comes over to me. She begins tightening the leather straps that are restraining my hands and feet. ""W-why are you d-doing this ?"", She laughs in my face. ""You people....."", she sighs. ""What's happening to my wife ? What did you do to her ?"" ""Do to her ?"", asks Penny innocently. "" Why I didn't do anything to her. It's The Changing."" ""The Changing ?"", What the fuck is The Changing ?"" ""It's the most beautiful phenomenon in human history. As far as we know, Frank and I were the first and only ones to ever experience The Changing. Until we had children, of course. To be short, The Changing is when a person, Frank, Benny, myself and now Belle, is completely normal, fits into society perfectly and lives a normal, boring, meaningless life until one day, over night, a series of Changes occur for a couple of days, and when that period is over, they come out of it as the same person, except they see things clearer now. They realise that human life isn't as precious as we previously thought, that most humans are worthless, irrelevant and ultimately, dangerous. That they are arrogant, self serving vultures that pollute the earth, cross one another for personal gain and manipulate fellow humans. That they deserve to be wiped out. And that they should suffer whilst doing it."" ""So you turn into insane, preachy fucking sociopaths ?"", I spit at her. She cackles once again. ""Typical human answer. You would cast us aside, dismiss us as being sick or degenerates, whereas, in reality, we're the next step in evolution. We're more evolved than you people can be expected to comprehend. We can see past emotion, we don't need love, compassion, happiness or human connection. We're the next step in the evolutionary chain. We are superior to you people."" ""So you don't even love your own children ?"" ""Not anymore. Not after The Changing. We guide them until The Changing takes them. That's what's happening to Belle. She's a little later than the rest of us. For Frank and I, we both Changed at twenty five and Benny Changed at sixteen. We were so proud of him. And now Belle is the latest at twenty nine. Unfortunately there aren't any other of The Changed other than the four of us but, we suspect that if both Benny and Belle mate with regular people, their offsprings will inherit The Changing gene. Also, Frank can still reproduce if needs be. Then if we exterminate enough regulars, we can repopulate with a flawless society of The Changed. If Changed people populated the earth, there would be no wars, famine, hunger or terrorism. There'd be a functional, non emotional efficient society."" ""So you're going to single handedly off every single other person on this planet ? Six billion people ?"" ""Well no, not everyone obviously. We'll keep going at our pace until our people grow into a sufficient army to take on the remaining regulars."" ""You're gonna go to war with the human race ? Haven't you learned that that's really not a good fucking idea by now ?"" ""They've never went to war with us. And with bigger numbers, they'll have no chance."" Now it's my turn to laugh. Despite all the fear and pain and anxiety I've felt over the last few hours since Belle's family revealed themselves to be psychos, I still find all this dystopian shit completely ludicrous. ""So why haven't you killed me ?"", ""Why haven't I killed you ?"" ""Yeah, why haven't you rid the world of another 'inferior being' ?"" ""Well, since Belle is the one who brought you here, we feel she deserves to be the one to do it. Plus, we'd like to keep an eye on her during her first kill and you're...... handy."" ""I'm glad I'm so convenient."" ""She's still in the transitional period so she's still rather erratic. You'll have to wait a while."" ""Oh goody."" I wait, surrounded by the dead bodies, on edge from pure fear, for death. I jump when I hear someone coming down the steps into the basement. It's Benny, with his gormless face and signature metal bat. He shuffles in. ""She's nearly Changed. I gotta bring you up and prepare you. The less you struggle the less it's gonna hurt."" He releases me from the leather straps. He rests his bat on the body in the seat next to me. He lifts me over his shoulder with surprising strength. He turns around so that I'm facing the bat. Now's my chance. I take the heavy bat, knee Benny in the groin and whack him in the head with the bat, knocking him unconscious. I sprint up the steps and race around the confusing hallways of the huge house and eventually find a door. The bat slips from my grasp as I rush past the pool, realising it was the back door. I run towards the fence, hoping the adrenaline will help me get over the top. Just as I reach my hand out for the fence, a pair of arms wrap around me and the world tilts for a disorientating second and I crash to the ground. It's Frank. He gets up and dives at me savagely. I kick him in the stomach, scramble up and run back toward the house. The back door is shut. I run along the back of the house and get to a large, floor to ceiling window of the sun room. I turn around just in time to see Frank bounding at me like a rabid dog. He crashes straight into me and I fall through the plate-glass window back into the house. I wake up in the living room where Belle is tied up in her armchair. I too am bound in an armchair. I have a leather strap around my mouth also, preventing me from making any sound. She is facing away from me. I guess one of the shards cut my head when I fell through the window as there's dry blood down the side of my face. I look out the window. Frank and Penny are out on the front lawn chatting to a concerned looking neighbour. They probably heard me falling through the window. Penny and Frank are laughing and charming the neighbour. They're acting like regular, neighbourly rich folks with a happy family. I find it mind-blowing how much that neighbour's perception of this household is probably so unbelievably wrong. Little do they know of the horrific skeletons in the fucked up closet of the Shardstakes. I try to scream, to attempt to alert the neighbour, but hardly any sound escapes the leather strap. Benny comes over and gently thumps my head when I make the noise. The pain the gently tap causes is searing and blinding. Pulsing, white hot pain throbs through my head. I sit here, impossibly frightened. I've been in constant fear and extreme anxiety for almost the whole day and my bones, muscles and nerves are beginning to ache from it. I didn't think it was possible to be in such a state of heightened fear for so long. I realise something as I sit here. Hell does exist. It isn't a big fire and brimstone firey landscape full of tortured souls. It exists on earth. In small, condensed spaces and it only exists for a small number of desperately unfortunate individuals. I am one of those individuals. And Hell isn't a grand place where the devil rules. It's disguised as a happy, sunny, wealthy suburban paradise where a functional family live. I think to myself how I got myself into possibly the only place where hell is a reality on earth. It's not war, where people are forced to kill for their country. It's not inside a terrorist camp where people are brainwashed into killing for a cause. It's in a house where the people don't kill for a cause. They kill because they are pure evil. Pure evil people who will not relent in torturing me or any of the previous victims lured into this micro chasm of pure terror. I think to myself how few times a human has been so afraid for so long. After a while, even in the direst situations, fear fades. But somehow, in this suburban Hell, I have been afraid for almost a day and my body can't take much more of it. So, yeah, Hell exists in a small situation where a person is forced to endure the most horrific experience possible. And I am that fucking person. I begin to cry. Not even for me. For the time when I lived with my wife. My real wife before any of this shit happened to her. The chances are, I probably will never see her again. Penny and Frank come back inside. Penny kneels down in front of Belle. ""She's sleeping"", says Penny. "" She should be ready soon. Bring him into the room, Benny."" Benny complies and drags the armchair I am bound to down a hallway, past the kitchen and into a room I've been into before. The room is small with padlocked cupboards all around. There is a metal table in the centre of the room with similar leather straps to my armchair. There is a smaller table beside that with an assortment of knives on it. Benny unstraps my straps and goes to lift me again. I kick him in the stomach, sending him flying backwards into the table of knives. The knives spill everywhere and Benny gets back up and swings his bat. I duck, grabbing a large looking knife. Benny clumsily swings his bat again. Again, I duck and when his head is ducked down I jam my knife into his skull. I hear the steel breaking through the bone in his skull with a sickening crack. Benny slowly and calmly stands up, the handle of the knife sticking out of the top of his head. For a second he seems calm, as if nothing happened. Then he sticks out his arms and backs me against the wall. A small stream of blood runs down his face. His fingers wrap around my throat and begin to tighten. I close my eyes. His grip isn't tightening. I look at him as a sheet of flowing blood covers his whole face, he can't see. He spits out mouthfuls of warm, sticky blood onto my face as it goes in his mouth. His clothes are saturated in it now and a pool is collecting on the ground. His body goes stiff as a board and he slowly tips over onto the floor. I slide down the wall breathing heavily. I can't believe I just did that. He was here a second ago and now he's gone forever. Because of me. I begin to hyperventilate. I sit here in the cold room and, before I know it, there's a layer of blood covering the whole floor of the room. I stand up but slip, getting blood all over my clothes. I nearly faint, but I will myself to stay awake. After vomiting, I stumble out of the room and down the hall. I find myself in the same living room. It's just Penny standing there. Belle is gone. I stand in front a coffee table and see a butcher knife. I kick myself for not notcing how many knives were left laying around before. I spot the handgun Belle had this morning. I look at Penny. She is closer to it. She rushes for it and as her fingers grasp it I bring the butcher knife down on her wrist. Blood spews all over her face as she howls in pain. I bring it down again, cutting through bone this time. I bring it down a third time and she falls back, flailing. I step back and look at the severed hand. I drop the knife, horrified. Penny is screaming in pain on the floor. He left arm ends in a stump which is spraying blood at a dangerous rate. She looks at me with woeful disdain. ""You know it's no one's fault but your own"", I say. I run down another hallway in the confusing mansion and I think I hear an engine. I hope to God it's the police. Suddenly, Frank bursts through a door opposite me, wielding a chainsaw. He rushed at me and I barely dodge his heavy handed swipe at me. He misses, tearing the family photos on the table behind me to shreds. I run upstairs. He chases me, growling. When I get to the top I turn and as he pulls the chainsaw back, I kick the handle, causing him to drop it down the stairs, breaking it. He lunges at me and scrabs me with his nails. I punch him and sprint back downstairs. He follows. I run into the sunroom, where he pushed me through the window. Frank gains on me and knocks me onto the floor, which is still full of glass. I grab the biggest shard I can find. He pulls a knife out from his pocket and slashes at me. I duck and run in a random direction. I find myself going upstairs again. I run through the maze of the second floor hallways and pick a random room. I run into it. It's a bedroom. I run out onto the balcony. Frank swipes at me as I turn around. I just about dodge it and shove the shard of glass I have into his eye. He screams in terror as blood runs down his cheek. I step back and kick the glass in further, silencing him. He goes limp, his body toppling over the balcony and falling into the pool and sinks to the bottom, turning the water red. I stumble back, hardly believing what I just had to do. My vision goes blurry and then black. I panic for a moment before my sight comes back. I stumble downstairs, exhausted. I go into another living room. I hear someone coming at me from behind. It's Penny. She rushed at me, pushing me into a framed picture on the wall, headfirst. The glass frame shatters as my head hits it and blinding pain courses through my head, but it's not as unbearable as when I went through the window. Penny scrambles up, she has some kind of cloth around the bloody stump. She gets up but I kick her in the stomach, winding her. She flies back as I run down another hallway. I run into the dining room. Belle is standing in front of me and, before I know it, she knocks me to the ground and start punching my face. She grabs at my neck and wraps her hand hands around it. She chokes me again. I see a rack of china plates beside me. I reach and grab one, and smash it over her head. She falls over, unconscious. I get up, limping, wheezing and coughing. I wander around and see the patio. I see my coat hanging beside it. With my phone in it. I run to it and take out my phone. I go out into the back garden, feeling the cool night air on my face. I ring 911. ""Hello this is 911, what's your emergency"", chirps the operator. ""Please, help me"", I cry. "" I'm in the Shardstake house on Greenleaf avenue. Please you have to help they're trying to kill me"", I scream. ""Okay, sir. Wha-"", the phone gets cut off. I look at the screen. It says low battery and powers off. I try to turn it back on. ""FUCK !"", I scream in anger, throwing my phone in the pool, which was now full of red water. I think I hear the garage door opening. I turn around and I'm blinded by a set headlights in the garage. They start speeding towards me. It's Penny in the Range Rover. I fall out of the way and the Range Rover speeds past me and past the pool and crashes into the wall with a deafening crash. I walk over the car, hoping Penny is dead or unconscious. I look at the car. The whole windscreen has shattered. There is a small pool of blood collecting on the mutilated bonnet. Penny is sitting in the drivers seat with her head down, eyes closed. There's dozens of jagged shards of glass piercing her chest and arms and her stump has begun bleeding again. Suddenly, Penny jerks awake and falls out of the car, splashing blood about. She tries to get up of the ground, but can't. She lies there, bleeding and unable to get up. She pulls a long shard of glass out of her jaw with a blood curdling scream. ""Fuck you"", she says. "" I could've made this world great. I could've evolved this whole planet but you had fuck it all up didn't you ? You self righteous, selfish BASTARD !"" ""You were never going to be able to take on the human race. You may see emotion as a weakness but we don't. We see it as a strength you don't have."" ""Oh fuck you, you small minded prick. You know we would have made a great society but you didn't want to get a little hurt. You didn't want to experience pain so you did what all humans do. You did what you wanted despite the all the plans and ideas you'd be shitting on. You ruined everything."" ""I didn't ruin anything. I rid the world of evil, ruthless serial killers who have no qualms about ending human lives."" ""You just ended two human lives, you hypocrite !"" ""I did it so the innocent people you would've killed in the future could live."" ""It doesn't matter, anyway. Belle is newly Changed and young and strong and she'll rip you apart."" ""Maybe I don't care if I get ripped apart. Maybe I don't car as long as you people are out of it. If Belle does kill me, which I hope she fucking does, she'll be locked away for the rest of her life."" ""The police would never figure it out in time. She'll have all this cleaned up by tomorrow."" ""Not unless someone rang them telling them that the Shardstakes are murdering people."" ""You didn't."" ""You can fucking bet I did, bitch."" Just then she manages to get up and she weakly thrusts the shard of glass she has at me. I block it easily, grabbing the one wrist she has left. She is wobbling as I am holding her. I let go of her wrist and she collapses into the pool, the red water enveloping her as she sinks to the bottom. She doesn't even resist as the last few bubbles of air rise to the surface. I go back inside and try to get to the front of the house. I take a turn and end up in one of the kitchens. Belle is there cowering in the corner. She is crying loudly and looking confused. My heart flutters as I go over to her. ""Belle, sweetie ?"", I ask gently. ""Phil"", she cries. "" What happened ? What's going on ? Why is this happening to me ?"" ""It's okay"", I say, helping her up. "" We can go home now."" I put my arm around her, helping her up and then she stops crying. She looks into my eyes and smiles that evil grin. She reveals a knife and plunges it into my shoulder. I scream in pain as the metal pierces my skin and gets jammed in my bone. I fall to the floor, screaming. The pain is making my thoughts cloudy. I can't think straight. I crawl across the kitchen, bleeding. I can't believe how horrific the last day has been. I can't believe I walked straight into this Hell, completely obliviously. Not only have I been subjected to the depths of bad human experiences, I walked into it willingly and ignorantly. I long for a time when I thought having a problem was not paying my gas bill. I miss the time when I lived with my mom in her apartment, in my own little bubble. Before I knew pain like this even existed. Before I knew fear or evil like this existed, back when I had enough blind faith in the human race to think that horrors like this never would happen. I want to go back to when I lived with my mom and appreciated the small things like a nice day or finding a dollar on the street. The sweet sound of hope echoes in my mind. I have to survive this. Even if there's a chance, a tiny, tiny chance that I can experience that carefree, simple, boring ass life where I'd go to work and come home and complain about it, a chance at returning to normality and feeling that even once more, I have to take it. I have to survive. Belle is giggling, choosing a weapon with which to end me. I crawl out of the kitchen and toward the front door. I hear Belle load a gun. She comes out into the hallway and points a large shotgun at me. She fires off a round and misses me completely, blowing a hole in the front door. The recoil alone sends her flying backwards. I hear sirens as I crawl down the front steps. I see my car. I crawl over to it and hide behind it. Belle comes out onto the porch and loads the gun again. She fires off another round, causing a window in my car to explode. She fires again blowing a hole beside me in the car. Suddenly, three police cars speed up the driveway. Several police officers get out and point there handguns at Belle. They look at me, bleeding and broken with a knife stuck in me. ""Drop the gun, mam"", shout the cops. I look at Belle. Her face contorts in irritance and anger. She grows contrary and shoots at the cops, catching one of them in the arm. The rest of the cops open fire on Belle, the bullets ripping her apart. I'm sitting next to my mother in the police station. She's holding me. I survived. Holy shit, I actually survived. My mother tells me it's been nearly two days since the ""incident"". She says for the last two days I've just been going between catatonia, crying hysterically and blacking out. I can't recall any of that. Last thing I remember is bleeding out behind my car while Belle faced off with the cops. My arm and shoulder is in a cast and I have band aids all over my head. The rest of today consists of police interrogations, court appearances and therapy. They tell me I'm going to have to go to therapy every day for a while. I do one ""exclusive interview with the survivor of the Shardstake Massacre"" before going back to therapy. I tell the therapist the whole story, leaving out no details. I can see her trying to hide the shock and terror as she hears the things I've been through. I don't blame her. No person should have to endure the things I've seen. As the day comes to a close, I realise I'm still afraid. It's a different kind of fear, though. It's one that will fade. I'm not scared because of all the shit I've been through and seen or the things I had to do to survive. I'm afraid because of something else. Something far more terrible, sinister and incurable. I feel myself beginning to Change."
s_8_1071,"[Request] Severely depressed/suicidal, almost broke, hungry, and friendless 23 year old in desperate need of kindness My life is in complete shambles. I'm 23 and am almost broke and can't hold a job because of my extremely severe depression and panic disorder. I've been suicidal for a very long time and have been in and out the hospital and have tried almost everything. I am in serious debt and couldnt finish school and have no friends left and have been struggling by and haven't eaten much the last three weeks as my pantry is almost empty. There's a papa johns near me and i can make a pizza last for almost two days as I know how to ration well. It would mean so much to me. I love you all you guys in this subreddit btw. My request wasn't fulfilled btw it just says ""got pizza'd"" from the past
**EDIT: Thank you u/Whisperers for the pizza gift card!**"
s_313_929,"[Book Ends 1] Night Driving I awoke to the sound of glass breaking. Then I felt the impact of the car and the seatbelt digging into my stomach and shoulder. I'd been driving two hours to my new job for three months. A job isn't even ""new"" at that point, I guess, it's just a job. The last week, I'd stepped up the amount of hours and I couldn't even remember seeing the sun. I went to work before dawn and got back after midnight every single day. It was too much, I guess, and I fell asleep. I blamed myself every day for it. I thought about all the things I might have been able to do to prevent it. I just... couldn't take it back. I went to her funeral. It felt wrong not to for some reason. Almost no one was there. Two middle-aged people I'd assumed to be her parents, an elderly man and the priest. Everything was extremely formal, dry and felt pre-packaged. The words that were said felt fake. It was a Hallmark funeral. Afterwards, I went to talk to the girl's parents. I had to apologize in person, despite the advice of my lawyers. ""Excuse me? Sorry... I..."" My tongue twisted. Maybe I should have written something down. But then, bizarrely, they both smiled and shook my hand. "" We know who you are. Thank you so much."" I was shocked. Even more, I was offended. What about the girl we'd just buried? Didn't she deserve... some emotion? Some hate for her killer? ""Krista was a troubled child. I don't know how you could understand without having met her."" ""Yes, deeply troubled."" ""You see, we used to have four children."" ""And now... well, now we have none."" ""It was Krista."" ""We can't prove that - ""
""But we know it was her. They all died in their sleep."" ""She posed their bodies."" ""They looked so peaceful."" Tears were welling in both of their eyes. I felt sick. ""She finally looked peaceful, sir. So thank you."" ""Thank you so much."" I was glad that I went to the funeral. I had no regret; I knew that despite everything that had happened, this was the fate she deserved."
s_1076_285,"My favorites list is a tad misleading, however. I enjoy pretty much any time period. I should have specified initially. Please see the edit I just made in my original post."
s_2402_728,"The more time I spend with people the more I realize I'm not normal I'm not normal. It's so painfully obvious. I can't socialise properly. I only have 1 friend, and my ex who is staying my friend to be polite. I'm a worthless burden who should kill myself. I'm just not fucking normal and that makes me feel so bad about myself :("
s_2439_346,I get the urge to cry whenever I start feeding. I feel happy but still want to cry. Its been getting better slowly but surly.
s_3044_1004,That is hard for a lot of people to understand. I mourn something that has nothing to do with the woman herself. She was an unspeakable monster in my life. The only positive thing she EVER did for me was leave. People have been giving me their condolences and that irritates me because I don't need that. I say GOOD RIDDANCE.
s_993_188,I had constant suicidal thoughts. I am taking bupropion and latuda. They seem to have stopped them. I have one or two now in extreme stress. At list what counts as an extreme stress for me. I have nightmares though. I think you need to talk to your doctor.
s_956_78,I hate myself and my self confidence is 0
s_1601_727,"If I fail once, shame on me forever. I don't like going through hard or painful moments to reach something the great people just have naturally. It feels so unfair! When I used to have therapy for depression and anxiety, the therapist once asked me to start looking up while walking, and on the same day I did. From my college to the bus stop, I looked up, and when I reached my bus stop (7 minutes later), I started crying. I didn't enjoy it. It was too much, I felt like I was suffocating ... so I bought food (I eat when I'm sad/happy/whatever emotion) and took the bus, crying. Good thing I got one of those individual seats, and my hair was in the way of my face. Only a couple of people noticed me. Whoa while writing this, I'm starting to tear up. I really miss home. I don't mean home as in where I sleep, I mean my city. I remember crying in a café, again, and for some reason it felt comforting to cry there. No one approached me or anything, a few people did notice me, but it was the only place I've ever been to where crying felt okay. I want to go back to my city just for that café and how good it made me feel through some difficult times of my life. And it's not even that special of a café. It's small, always crowded, you always have hipsters hogging the seats with their MacBooks, drinking an espresso or cappuccino or munching on a sandwich with ingredients you didn't know existed. They always played underground rock, the owners were always loudly laughing, in contrast to half the costumers who were students, therefore studying or working. Some stayed there for a couple of minutes to grab a quick snack, others stayed for hours. It was magic. Especially at night, when the rush settles down, and the few costumers that were left were those who would leave at closing time. The owners were so friendly and welcoming, though I never really had conversations with them. Just the usual ""Hi, I'd like to order the ..."". Yet, in those short minutes, they welcomed me with their smiles and their spirits. It felt great. I started college in August of 2013, and I would go there twice a week to escape. Then, from January 2014, I only got to go there once a week. From Summer to the Winter, I went there only a handful of time, but I stayed there until closing time twice. Those were the best moments. No rush at all, only maybe five to ten people, and it was quiet. Well no, it wasn't. There was music and people talking, but nothing traumatizing. The noise was melodious in a way. I don't know how to put it. It was good background noise. Pitch black outside, only a few cars driving by (the café is in the hipster neighbourhood of my home city, so besides the main streets, you see more bicycles or pedestrians around town). I wish I was capable of sharing these moments with someone. Well, scratch that. I did share those moments with people. Two, actually. People it took me 9 years to consider friends. Somehow, they were patient and didn't mind my asocial self. They didn't mind how quiet or odd I was, they just roll with it. I am so thankful for them, I really am. However I can't feel the need to be around them or to explicitly miss them. Though again, I wish I could share these moments with a special someone. I had one person I considered special in my life, but they're being distant. Sorry I'm rambling. Guess who needs a snack."
s_1551_9,"Some days I have the drive to work hard, then some I just feel so fatigued and cant bring myself to do anything. I worry I overwork, and sometimes I worry its not enough. The amount of work that I have put in I wish would yield better results a little faster, otherwise i over analyze what Im doing and how I could and should be doing more or better and that just burns me out. I feel like Im running in circles sometimes and thats when the past starts to creep in my head, reminding me if you did this instead of that back then you wouldnt be here right now"
s_2958_224,"I was hesitant starting off, but I'm feeling a lot better about it. My thoughts are clearer, I'm sleeping better, I have an appetite again, I'm not being overly irritated or angry at my loved ones and I haven't experienced any side effects that I've noticed. So it feels great to not be as angry, I feel like I'm getting back to my old self. The therapy is helping a lot too, but I'm functioning now in the meantime."
s_670_55,"From DV shelter to on the streets After a domestic violence incident I went into a shelter for women and posted for help with anything (this past week). I've now been kicked out of the shelter and I'm on the streets. Both the county I am in and the larger neighboring county shelters can't help me. I'm at a loss. I have had no luck with anything. I've even tried a church and the hospital social worker. The church worker told me they give money to the shelters so they don't have to deal with the homeless directly. Then she made me leave. Friends and family won't help. I had an interview tomorrow but it's not possible for me to attend. I don't have a car to live in either. I'm not sure what to do. I'm hungry, tired and alone. I'm desperate for shelter so I can get back on my feet and get my kitty back."
s_2415_95,"No I apologize because I have hurt people around me. I know nobody likes us ""negative"" people. I don't like myself as well. I just wanted to convey, those miserable people around you might think they're a burden on people like you. They probably wish they never existed. I just wanted to say I know it's hard for you but it's hard for us as well. It's just *tragic*."
s_299_1841,Hrt feels Amazing. Best decision I ever made
s_1601_666,"I definitely have some self-esteem issues. I have become almost ashamed of everything I am. It has gotten so bad that when I daydream about my goals and future life, I need to find myself a look-alike. I can't imagine myself in any of my thoughts, unless they are negative. I guess I like ... hmmm. I need to work on that self-esteem."
s_1404_895,"Because im always physically tired, I can't do my homework. What should I do? Im physically tired. Doing homework actually requires physical energy. I need to sit straight with my face directly towards the screen of my laptop. I need to use my hands and arms for the mouse and keyboard. I have health issues (physically and mentally) and my main problem is that I'm physically so tired that I cant endure sitting straight and instead I just rest my head on the table doing nothing. Or I sit back in a lazy position but that does not allow me to properly see the screen and use the mouse and keyboard. My arms also feel too weak to move over the mouse and keyboard all day. Has anyone else had this problem and what can I do about it? I can't seem to find a comfortable position for doing homework. Doesn't matter which desk or chair I use, homework always exhausts my body."
s_1514_889,"Judging by the message I found, someone, somewhere, is lonelier than I am... Statistically, somewhere in the early hours of Christmas morning, more people are asleep than at any other moment during the year. I'm working. And I love that the world is quiet. That's less people to bother me, and more thickness for the walls of darkness and solitude that surround this place. As the off-hours network manager, I'm typically alone in my duties, and I don't have to *manage* much of anything. I don't have to train people, or deal with customer issues. All I have to do is make sure our extremely expensive network doesn't go down or lock up or implode when nobody else is around. With today's technology, that means I spend the vast majority of my time sitting around and browsing things online. I'm pretty sure I've seen the entire Internet. I used to cover my tracks by deleting my connection history from the network log, but, one week I forgot and nobody cared. I quickly got the sense that nobody was even looking, and, if they did, they wouldn't give a crap about the browsing history of the off-hours network manager. I mean, realistically, what else was I supposed to do? Cooped up in this half-dark, half-rainbow server room, alive with the breath of endless banks of computers and the cooling system needed to keep it all from melting I used to joke to myself that my ultimate responsibility here was to literally pull the plugs out of the walls if the air conditioning ever stopped working, something no software could ever do, and something a monkey could have managed - but my little joke ceased being funny when I realized that was actually, probably, most likely the case. I'm a glorified button pusher. Once I'd seen the entire Internet, I grew bolder. I began looking at files on our own network. I had excuses lined up if anybody came to ask what I was doing but nobody ever did. We did quite a bit of work with military contractors, and it was rather astounding to sift through bid documents, designs, and plans that dealt in the billions of dollars. It was all protected and encrypted, of course except I was the acting network administrator. Score one for the network being far too big for anyone to lock down perfectly. There were files, emails, and logged communications from practically everywhere, and a few places I'd never even heard of. We weren't military, or governmental, but we did business with them all. VPs discussed third-world coups over lunch, accountants logged tax tricks that were clearly illegal but heavily obfuscated and ready to be pinned on patsies hired for the task of taking the fall, and soldiers emailed their families back home. That was the thing about these memos and emails. Unlike the swarm of crap on the Internet, they were *real.* One soldier's email chain ended two months ago, and the subsequent data linked to his widow trying to get money out of our insurance department despite their best efforts to renege on the payout. These were *real people* being churned through the system. Was that widow asleep somewhere right now, ready to fake her way through Christmas morning with her daughter, or was she still awake, with anger and despair gnawing at her? I mean, I had access and the system was the system and I knew it was inevitable. Alone in here ad infinitum, I'd eventually do it. Why not now? I closed the widow's insurance payout ticket, taking it away from the current person assigned to it, then reopened it without an assignee a simple matter. With a few manipulations, I created a fake employee in a department with a redundant sounding title. Then, I sent it on over to pay processing doubled the amount and marked it as Approved. It was nothing to a gigantic corporation, but everything to a single person. As a final act, I deleted all traces of my actions. That was it. Maybe what I'd done was illegal, but it seemed the morally right thing to do. She'd be getting an email confirmation before she woke up. That seemed like a Christmas present and a half. And I couldn't be caught, in any case. There was simply no trace in the system that I'd had *anything* to do with it, and hardly anybody knew I existed anyway. The system was the system, and if, through some impossible feat, a mid-level manager noticed an issue, he'd simply pass a ticket up to me. And that ticket would most certainly be lost in the shuffle. I felt oddly great for a little while, until I realized everyone's asleep. If ever I had an opportunity to do more like this, and get away with it, it was now. I delved deeper into the files, looking specifically for military communications with signs of distress. Somehow, I think I knew it the moment I saw it. The message log hung there in emptiness - alone, like me. Nobody had read it, and nobody was even aware of its existence. It was encrypted in a unique way, and hidden by rare system priorities. No users had the rights to access it, and the file had no traceable origin. This was a message intended to be read by no one. But the access process *did* exist within the system, even if nobody actually had the rights to it. I couldn't resist. ---
0110111101110101011101000110011101101111011010010110111001100111001000000110001101101111011011
0101101101011101010110111001101001011000110110000101110100011010010110111101101110001000000110
1111011011100110110001111001
You'd be surprised how easy it is to play chess against yourself. The game is uniquely suited to cold decision-making, and your next move doesn't depend on prior states. You can spend a few hours reading a book, come back to the board, and legitimately make a move in your own best interests before doing it all again as the opposite player. Of course, your opponent is perfectly matched to your level of skill, and there's no bragging, so nothing really gets decided. I did find, curiously, that black won more than fifty percent of the time
At some point, I'm pretty sure the human brain forces you to stop doing things you realize are pointless. Once chess became agony instead of welcome distraction, I had only the books left. And when I'd memorized all the books, I
I went for a lot of walks. They don't take very long, though. I've got seven chambers here. One has the shower and the toilet, and the marks I make in the wall for each day that passes. One chamber has my bed, my books, and a picture on a nightstand. The third chamber has a kitchen area, and a table that serves adequately as a ping-pong arena against my only opponent - the wall. The fourth chamber has the computers and communication equipment. Screw all this stuff. It's all held together by rubber bands and scotch tape. You know, I think I've finally managed to send a message out somewhere but I always think that, don't I? This time, with everything going unbounded, with time slipping into time and thought slipping into thought I really think I've done it. This message is going *somewhere.* It has to be. The fourth chamber has a wall of televisions and radios, incoming-only. Some goddamn genius got hired to make televisions and radios that couldn't be repurposed to send a message out. I *hate* that guy. I've been in and out of half of these things, even burrowed into the wall myself, and the crap back there just won't give me a break. I used to watch the TVs, but they just remind me how cooped up I am. And everyone out there seems to be getting dumber and more outraged at everything all the time. I wish I could shout loud enough for them to hear. The fifth chamber has, of all things, a couch. What am I gonna do, *have a guest over?* There are fake blinds, too, always down and closed because they only show onto concrete. Was this room supposed to make me feel a little less trapped? Idiots
The sixth chamber, offset a bit from the rest by a small tunnel, houses a vast little factory and furnace room that keeps me alive. Air conditioning, carbon scrubbing, an automated hydroponics bay, geothermal power plant, the works that shit could run for a hundred years all by itself, if it hadn't been made by the lowest bidder. See, I know I'm not supposed to send messages out. I *know that.* That's the fundamental design of this whole place. Thing is there's somebody down here. I mean, I might be losing my mind. I get that. But I can feel the curve of insanity ahead in the road, and I don't think I'm there yet. I really think there's a person in my furnace room. And I *checked.* I went over every crack in the wall, every nook and cranny in the air vents, even re-checked the welded-shut elevator like I do every day: there's no way in or out of this place. Yet, there's someone in my furnace room. I can guess what that means for me, and none of my guesses are good. I suppose there's no point in hiding, though. There's literally nowhere to go. And I chose this, so it's pretty much my fault. Time to face the music and, more supposing - better to die now than to spend forever down here losing my mind. Actually, not like anyone will get this message in time to do anything. I might as well check it out first. I crept down that long, small concrete tunnel with the weirdest sense of anticipation. The furnace room had always creeped me out for some reason; it wasn't meant for anything but maintenance access, so it was like a series of mechanical caves and burrows that went on longer than I'd ever reached. It was always breathing and moving and clinking, even during my supposed night hours. I hated it. So, *of course,* an intruder had to have appeared there. Anywhere else would have been too simple. Crawling between the water recycler and a furnace duct, I tried to get a long vantage on whoever was back there. I froze as I saw a shoe move out of sight up ahead. Scraping across cement, it had been pulled forward by someone else crawling through the maintenance tubes. That was it: proof that someone was down here. Was *was there a way out?* ""Hello?!"" I shouted, immediately taken aback at the ragged and unfamiliar sound of my own voice. The only response came in the form of someone scrambling away in the distance. ""Please, I won't hurt you,"" I yelled out. Eventually, I retreated back to the tunnel. If there *was* somebody in there, they'd have to come out sooner or later. I pulled the couch over, tilted it up on its end, and used it as a makeshift barrier in the tunnel. It could easily be moved - but it would make a noise. I moved through my chambers carefully, noting the placement of every object. Nothing had been moved, and I could find nobody around, so the possible intruder still had to be in the furnace room
I decided to get some algae paste from the kitchen and eat. There was really nothing else to do. I couldn't risk crawling around in there with some stranger on the loose here, I'd at least have a clear view of what I was up against. The alarm went off as I was eating. Distracted as I was by the thought of an impossible intruder, I was initially terrified but, then, I sighed, and went to deal with it. How long did I wait? A half hour? It didn't matter. Eventually, a voice radiated down the tunnel. "" In the kitchen, I sat up straight. It was a woman! Practically running to the sixth chamber access, I poked my head around the edge of the couch. "" How'd you get down here?"" I didn't see anybody, but her voice came from right around the opposite corner at the end of the tunnel. "" Where are we? What is this place?"" Processing her words, my head hurt a little bit. It'd been a long time since I'd heard anyone speak. All that mattered was getting out of here ""How'd you get in here?"" Whoever she was, she paused. "" I'll tell you, but only if you tell me where we are."" Court-martial me if I ever get out of here - what was the use of hiding the information? "" We're eleven thousand feet underground."" Another pause, then a confused tone. "" Seriously?"" I could leave, I could leave, and I could start a new life ""How do we escape?"" ""Just one second,"" she replied instead, her tone growing more commanding. "" What is the state of Earth?"" I sighed. It was just an overseer using the comm system to simulate an intruder. Had I imagined the shoe? Or perhaps it was an adjunct, testing me. I hadn't heard from any of them in over a year, but they'd been bound to check in sooner or later ""Looks like business as usual in the TVs. Radio chatter seems normal, too. A few wars going on, but nothing out of the ordinary."" ""Is that so?"" She stepped out from behind her corner hesitantly. Holy crap - she *was* really down here! A brown-haired woman in her early thirties crept down the tunnel. She wore unfamiliar clothing, but seemed otherwise normal. "" You're not armed, are you?"" I looked her in the eyes across the edge of my couch. "" Why would I be armed? No one should be able to get down here."" She approached me cautiously, and I retreated a chamber. She slowly moved the couch out of the way and entered my space proper. As she looked at me, I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my thickening stubble and unkempt hair. "" Sorry,"" I told her. "" I haven't had visitors in a long time."" She circled around me, checking out each chamber with narrowed eyes one by one. Though I followed her from room to room, she never completely turned her back to me. We stopped outside my bedroom, and she did not enter the bathroom area. "" What is this place?"" ""My prison,"" I laughed. "" Can we go now?"" ""Are you a prisoner? What was your crime? What justifies burying you eleven thousand feet down?"" It occurred to me that she really had no idea where she was. This wasn't an act. What if she chose not to reveal her method of entry? "" Oh oh no, I was joking. I'm I'm military."" She set her jaw. I don't think she believed me. ""Here, come here,"" I told her, going back to the fifth chamber. "" These TVs I watch the world here."" I touched a device. "" I listen to the radios see?"" She remained at the edge of the chamber, watching me warily. "" What could I tell her? Hmm ""There's a problem, see. It, um it's like this. Say there's aliens. They want to take over the Earth for whatever reason. They're assholes, right? Except if they've got brains, they'll understand."" ""Understand what?"" She slowly moved around the edge of the room, drifting toward the direction of the furnace room tunnel. I could tell I was losing her. "" Say there are monsters, too. Shit, I don't know. Mind-controlling parasites. Things with eerie eyes that'll eat you alive. Or one that, like, rips out of your *bones.* Your bones. Fates worse than death. Anything and everything."" Her eyes went narrower, and she stiffened. I told her, highly aware of her body language. "" I'm not saying this stuff exists. * I* don't know. Some people do, though, and some people are scared out of their goddamn minds. So if I see, on the TV, that people are in trouble that those aliens are attacking, or stuff is *getting* people, or anything that seems to be condemning the human race to fates worse than death well, then I give them the better option. I give them *just death.*"" The glimmer of understanding grew in her eyes. I decided to push the offensive. "" I can tell you get it. Aliens can't take us over if we threaten to kill ourselves rather than surrender. And we can't be trapped in fates worse than death if we kill ourselves first."" I moved along the wall, touching embedded electronics. "" All this all this it's attached to every single nuclear weapon in every single country all over the world."" ""That's why you're so far down,"" she breathed, taking in the logical madness. "" None of those forces can find you, or reach you. They can't stop you from activating the doomsday suicide pact."" I nodded excitedly, my eyes wide. "" That's what he said, when he brought me down here. * The only defense we have against nightmare is the power of self-sacrifice.* That's our mantra."" I thought about that, and my hope slowly began to ebb as I realized something. "" If you're not with them, then who are you? I haven't heard from my commanding officer in over a year."" ""The TVs look fine"" she answered. ""They could be faked,"" I countered. "" They're just signals. If the politicians told the enemy - whoever or whatever the enemy is - and the politicians *would* have told them, because the doomsday suicide pact is useless unless the enemy knows about it - you know, Doctor Strangelove style - then those signals could easily be fake. Everyone on the surface could be dead right now, or being kept alive as brains in jars, or being enslaved."" ""Then how do you know anything at all about the situation up there?"" I glared at her. "" My CO is supposed to check in every so often over a secure line. I haven't heard from him in over a year. The equipment *broke.* Goddamn government contractors! But I fixed it. I thought I fixed it. But he's still not out there."" She looked down at my uniform for a moment, thinking. "" If the signals are being faked, then the enemy up there has complete control of the planet, and masterful deception abilities. In that situation, would you detonate the system and destroy all life on the surface?"" I nodded. "" In a heartbeat. If They killed everyone, or enslaved them, or worse... well then They can all go to hell."" ""What if there are still human beings fighting for survival?"" she asked, her tone quiet. "" What if there's even one person left up there?"" I smiled weakly. "" All thoughts that I've had. In an endless mad cycle. Over and over. The fate of the world literally rests on me."" My gaze drifted. "" Can you please take me out of here?"" My hope rekindled in a burst of warm fire as she finally just nodded. ""Alright. No man should ever have to make that choice, let alone by himself."" Almost sobbing, I nodded in agreement. She began to move toward the access tunnel when red lights began to blare and a loud noise echoed through the chambers. "" What the hell is that?"" Why did it have to happen *then?* I was almost out! Despair coiling around my heart, I carefully walked to the seventh chamber in my underground bunker. The heavy metal doors slid open in response to my handprint, and a single button lay within. Above, large red numbers counted down. 21 20 19
Coming up behind me, she studied the room, and shouted over the alarms. "" What *is* this?"" I said nothing. Instead, I pushed the button. The alarms ceased, and the chamber slowly resealed itself. Standing outside, I could only look at the cold concrete beneath my bare feet. She figured it out on her own. "" It's not something you activate, is it?"" she asked, her words horrified. "" It's something you *don't do.*"" I nodded absently. "" The alarm goes off at random three times a day. I have sixty seconds to push the button and stop the process. If I'm dead - if the forces worse than death have managed to disable or kill me - then it'll go off automatically. That's the only way to be sure."" She backed away from me. "" I can't take you with me"" She began moving down the service tunnel backward, her eyes on me, as I slowly followed her. "" God I can't take you with me how long have you been down here?"" She'd have known if she saw the bathroom, and the thousands of marks on the walls that each marked a single day. She shook her head for nearly ten seconds, probably trying to comprehend what she was condemning me to. "" I'm so sorry"" She slammed the door to the furnace room behind her. Just like that, I was alone again. Had I ever really had company? Had I ever really *had a guest over?* I did eventually manage to get through the door, but there was no trace of her by then, and no trace of an escape route. I knew, then, that I was going insane. What if the signals are fake? What if they're not? What if there's *one single person* still alive and fighting for the fate of the human race? What if there isn't, and I'm alone on a dead world? What if the surface is covered in slimy, horrible, extradimensional creatures? What if it's a utopia up there, and some horrific series of bad-luck mishaps have cut off the line to my bunker? They could be drilling down to rescue me even now - if I just had a single communication, a single message, a single voice if I just knew *something!* But I didn't know. And I couldn't go on. Court martial me if you can. I decided to let the timer run out at the next alarm. I sat there staring at the button, letting the alarms blare, letting the red lights flash. I held the picture from my nightstand close. 10 9 8
I wouldn't even notice a difference down here, would I? The surface could be obliterated by a hundred thousand nuclear explosions, and I wouldn't feel a thing eleven thousand feet down, would I? 3 2 1
I took in a deep gasp as the timer actually hit zero, and a much louder alarm began going off. Deep in the walls, something began to move, vibrating the concrete beneath my feet. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, it was actually happening! A single number blinked on the screen above. 0 0 0
What now? Oh God, what now? The words *Final System Initiation* flashed above, and then new numbers appeared. 60 59 58
So it wasn't really only sixty seconds! I thought that was always cutting it a little short. I laughed out loud, barely hearing myself over the incredibly loud alarms. What was the louder alarm even *for?* There was no way to sleep through the first set unless
The proximity alarms
The vibrating beneath my feet
Why would anything vibrate *here?* Running out to the other chambers, I heard a loud drilling sound coming from somewhere above. Dust drifted down from the ceiling. They were drilling me out! Were they bringing down my replacement? Was my shift finally over?! Breathing hard, I ran to the button and slammed my hand down on it. It stopped at 6 seconds. The alarms all ceased, and the door to the seventh chamber slid closed once more. Laughing happily, I moved back out into the other rooms. I frowned. The drilling had stopped. It was eerily quiet once again. Confused, I waited. It wasn't until I'd done the same thing for two more alarms that I realized what you bastards did. You added fake proximity alarms and fake drilling vibrations to the final initiation. They're randomized, too, so I can never be certain they're fake. Every time I feel like giving up and letting the end come, letting all the bombs go bright I can't. Because maybe *this time* I'm being rescued at the last second. Maybe *this time* the drills are real. I laugh a lot these days. I'm laughing all the time! The woman could have been a hallucination, or not; the signals could be fake, or not; the rescue could be the same old trick, or not - who knows?! It's the ultimate joke! And you've played it on *me!* If you want to know how I feel about it, you know where to find me! I'll be here, screaming your names! A Merry Christmas to all of you, straight from hell! And I'm here in the flames already, waiting for you, laughing
---
I finished reading the message log with a terrible sinking feeling in my heart. What the hell was this? Some kind of joke? The file's details said it had been made today. In fact, the last few lines had been added *as I'd read it.* But where was it coming from? Where did this file originate? This couldn't possibly be real, could it? Was there a poor and tortured madman underneath the Earth right now, with the power to destroy everything at his fingertips? I could imagine some sort of ridiculous budget cutback eliminating the department that had overseen him. If the project had been kept secret, would anyone even know what had been defunded? Holy crap I couldn't find the source all I could do was hope that this was a Christmas joke being played on me for my off-hours browsing habits or, if it was real I could only hope that this unknown soul would hold out. And for how long? Indefinitely? Did all our lives hinge on the lonely suffering of one solitary man? In my half-dark and very isolated server room, I couldn't help but feel for him. Merry Christmas to you, wherever you are, friend
[Part 2](<URL>)
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[Part 4](<URL>)
[Part 5](<URL>)
[Part 6](<URL>)
[Final](<URL>)
[Follow more works](<URL>)"
s_1592_32,Yeah you are correct about that. It's just that I m not confident enough to talk face to face too much that's why I mostly avoid doing that. But yeah face to face creates real bonding. I'll just have to work on my confidence achieve it.
s_264_2,"I was at a dinner party with a few friends one time. It was me, my best friend, a few couples, the hosts family (husband, wife, three kids) and the grand parents. At the end of the day everyone was leaving and the kids were all begging to sleep over at their grandparents house. For whatever reason the dad said no, I forget why. Anyhow, everyone goes home and sleeps off the light beer and appetizers. The next day I got a call for the host. It was an 'invitation' for his father in law's funeral, the very same one that I had seen at the party last night. Apparently, when the grandparents had gotten home last night there was someone already hiding inside their house waiting for them. He waited until they were asleep to sneak up and stab the grandfather to death. His wife was also stabbed, but she managed to make it outside where a neighbor saw her and was able to help her. She was taken to the hospital where she was treated for minor injures. While she was there the same man that had broken into their house came strolling through the hospitals front door. In his trial the grandma claimed that as he walked by he stared at her and smiled. Apparently he had somehow cut himself during the attack, and a neighbor who had no idea what was going on insisted they take him to the hospital. The very hospital the wife of the man he had just murdered was at. Creepy as shit. He was arrested shortly after being treated, thank god. **TL;DR A man hid in my friends parent's house and waited for them to go to sleep to murder them. The wife escaped and was taken to the hospital. The attacker soon showed up at the same hospital.** nbsp;
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EDIT: I got one more I wasn't planning on using but decided to anyways. One week my best friends parents went out of town. It was the first time they ever out of town without him so it was kind of a big deal. We were pretty young, so we didn't throw a party or anything, but we did have an awesome unsupervised sleep over at his house. I quickly realized I greatly under estimated how scary this would be. His family was rich and he had a **huge** house. Seeing such a big dark empty house was pretty frightening for both of us. We spent most of the night playing video games in the basement. The next morning when I was getting ready to leave I kept looking for my laptop. I had brought it over to watch a movie we ended up never seeing, but now I couldn't find it. I told my friend I swore I left it on the kitchen table upstairs with the rest of my stuff. My friend decided this was the perfect opportunity to show off a little and show me the security camera terminal his dad had shown him how to use before leaving. I knew he just wanted to brag a little bit that he could even do that, but I figured it might actually help find where I had gone with it. Plus, although I'll never admit it, a security camera terminal sounded really cool and I kinda wanted to see it. Although there was no camera in his kitchen, the camera nearest clearly showed that I had gone into the room with it (as well as with the rest of my stuff) and came out without it. Naturally, we both assumed the worst. We kept watching though because I insisted that if *I* didn't move it, it must have been *him* that did it some other time that night. At about two in the morning a man walked past the camera. A very big man with a bat. He came into the shot, looked around for a moment, and then walked into the kitchen. Naturally, we freaked the fuck out. We checked the other cameras for that time. After piecing together the video like a puzzle, we saw that he walked up to every door in the house and tried to open it. The screen door on the side was unlocked. He walked in, and did a preliminary tour of the house. Then he left out the door for a moment, and returned minutes later without the bat. This time he grabbed some stuff from my friend's dad's office, a computer and my laptop. He also took some jewelry, but we didn't find out until later as that was of camera. After collecting his prize, he closed the side door, and left. If my computer hadn't been gone, I would have never known he was there. I couldn't sleep for weeks after this. A man broke in and robbed the place while I was in the house. That can be pretty god damn traumatic for a kid. A few years later the police got the guy. I never got my computer back though. **TL;DR Slept over at my friends house while his parents were away, house was robbed while we were sleeping inside.**"
s_2025_321,"everyones like, oh its goos he's checked himself in, i'm glad he's gettign help. I'm fucking sad at it. I thought he was beating it through his music, sucks man."
s_2039_6,"Those who kill Part 2 I puked more when i lifted my hand from the remnants of my father's skull to attempt and get up. I wanted to cry, to scream, but I only felt searing, white wash anger. He looked at my expression and let out a loud laugh, short and high pitched. His parents watched beside him as i struggled with my grasp on reality. They were serial killers. They viciously murdered my parents, and now they are going to do the same to me. It was the mother this time who met my eyes, she came closer to me and leaned down until i could smell her rotten breath. Her evil eyes traced me, i snarled, and spat in her face. Her son roared and charged me on all fours like an animal. He put his mouth on my arm and took a bite of my flesh like it was cotton candy. My blood spluttered out, adding to the pool on the floor, and on his face. I grabbed my wound and kicked him and his mother square in the face. They fell back and knocked into the father who was already on the move to strike. I leaped up and ran past them, her gnarled fingers catching my ankle. I toppled down the flight of stairs, and managed to keep crawling until i could come to a stand. Somehow i was quicker than them and ran out of that god forsaken hell and onto the streets. This time i didnt scream for help I just ran. I had nowhere to go, no phone, no parents, and very little sanity left. I heard their footsteps behind me, catching up. All I needed to do was hit the main road and hopefully, they wouldnt be dumb enough to follow me. I was running on pure adrenaline, my mind and body was acting on pure survival instinct. Cars were passing by, and my heart jumped out of my chest before my arms flailed for help. Unfortunately the family was behind me,and they were close too. I ran out in front of the next car that was approaching and it shrieked to a halt. I could see the person in the car was absolutely terrified and I screamed that there were people chasing me, trying to kill me. By now they had caught up and the person in the car was so bewildered that she tried to drive away, but the son smashed himself through the windshield. I watched as they ganged up on the woman inside of the car, and beat her until her head collapsed onto the steering wheel. The car horn was sounding around me like a siren, and I turned and ran in the other direction as fast as I could. Was all i could think as my bare feet hit the concrete painfully in each step. I looked back and they had threw the womans dead body onto the road and commandeered her car. They were now heading straight towards me heading about fifty miles an hour. Another car was on coming the opposite direction and i just prayed to whatever god was out there that they saw what was happening. I flung myself out of the way as the family passed me, barely escaping death. They slammed the car into the other, flipping it twice. I stood watching in horror as the son turned to me a second before it happened and smiled that sadistic smile of his. Surely the person in the other car was dead from the impact of a head on collision. I didnt even bother to stick around and check to see if i was right. I had ran about 2 miles, and luckily I knew up ahead was a convenience store that would be littered with people and a phone. My arm and feet were soaking with blood, and my clothes the same. I looked like i had just been baptised in it. I checked behind my shoulder to see if they, by some chance of god were following me. They were nowhere to be seen. I hobbled into the bright lights of the gas station, my feet no longer covered by skin. The people who were standing by the gas pumps, mindlessly filling their tanks, gawked at me. I stared right back at them as I walked past and into the store. The guy behind the counter immediately noticed me and rushed around with a double barrel shotgun. I held up my hands in innocence and stammered that I just escaped kidnappers. That sounded better than I just ran two miles from fucking lunatic serial killers. The customers in the store had stopped what they were doing and were know watching the events unfold. The kind man who introduced himself as brian, called the police and let me wait in the breakroom while we waited. He bandaged up my arm and my feet in a combination of horror and disgust. You poor boy, I am so sorry. Did you recognize them? I nodded, and told them exactly who they were. He tied up the end of my bandage and sat back on his heels, searching my eyes with furrowed brows. Are you one hundred percent sure? Did he not believe me? Yes, I can describe the way their house looks, the inside, the pictures on the wall, anything. When the police get here I can take them to where the bodies are, and where they wrecked into another car on the way to kill me. He looked solemn, as if his mind had just shut down trying to process the information I just slammed on him. He rubbed the back of his neck in anxiety,
They always seemed like such nice people, I mean the son was a little wonky, but still. I narrowed my eyes,
You knew them? He nodded slowly,
It's a small town boy, everyone needs gas or a pack of cigarettes. Their son Andrew always came in and bought a pack of starbursts and a strawberry cream soda every sunday after church. I had to hold back broken laughter, they actually went to church? How the fuck did they not burst into flames upon walking into Gods territory. Those people had to be some sort of branch of satan's offspring. The police arrived, and I told the story once more. The sheriff appeared as if he was going to be sick. His thick black moustache wiggled as if it was trying to escape his face. The sheriff and brian met eyes. Alright, you feel comfortable with showing me where everything happened? I will also need to get an official report. I shook my head. I thanked brian for helping me, his face was decorated with timid worry as I trailed behind Sheriff Langston. Two miles in we saw the car that the family had shamelessly wrecked into, still smoking on the side of highway 24. There was no sign of them, but the car they had stolen was piled in the ditch. The front end was almost completely destroyed, the airbags were deflated, and the windshield was just, gone. There is no way they could have survived right? I asked nervously, praying he would say no. Langston looked over at me in disbelief. Kid, I really wanted to believe you made this up. My eyes widened, and I threw my hands at the scene in front of us. Now do you believe me? They killed my parents, and however many other people, and tried to kill me. Saying my parents were dead was the most horrid taste i have ever had on my tongue. I choked back a cry as I tore my face away from the sheriffs. He called for backup, and an ambulance as he surveyed the scene. They killed the lady who was driving this car. I said as i accompanied him, not really wanting to sit in his car alone. Her poor, helpless face was forever seared in my mind as i watched her die. I never should have tried to stop her, it was my fault she was dead. Shit, she probably had a husband and kids. Now those kids were without a mom, just like me. I was an orphan. I took Langston to where I assumed her body would be. We searched the road and followed a blood trail into the ditch on the left side of the road. Her body lay still, with her eyes wide open still in horror. She must have still been alive when they threw her out of the car, and tried to crawl away from the road. Somehow that made it even worse. Backup finally showed, along with the swat team and me and the sheriff got back in his car. The three minute drive felt like an hour, as I dreaded every second of anticipating seeing their faces once again. Theyre probably long gone by now. I muttered. He half shrugged. There will still be evidence all over the house, blood is hard to completely erase. There also should still be saliva from the son on your arm, if he is in our system thats proof enough for a warrant. I sighed, and stared ahead as we pulled onto my street. Except it was no longer my street, no longer my home, but a horrible reminder that I was completely alone. Langston reeved it, and raced into their yard, followed by the swat and a few other cop cars. The swat hopped out of their van and ran into the house like a stampede of bulls after a matador. I want you to stay here. Langston said firmly, his hand on his gun. No, I want to see them die. I whispered, not really to him, but to myself. He pointed his eyes at me, and his lips grew tight. Somehow I felt like he understood that. Before he could say anything else, there was a loud explosion inside the house. We both immediately looked up to see flames erupting from the windows where the glass was blown out completely. Son of a fucking bitch. Langston cursed and jumped out, as he was running up to the house, one of the swat men crawled out of the house. His protective gear was all but gone, and he struggled to take off his helmet as Langston approached him. I got out of the car and joined Langstons side, as we knelt by the man. A few other cops had arrived at this point, and the other cops were gathering around. The neighbours were coming out of their houses and onto the street to rubberneck on the scene. What happened? Langston asked in grave concern. The mans face was sweltered up from the blast, he was wheezing, and gasping for air. Langston looked back at the other policeman and nodded towards the back of the house. They drew their guns and quickly went to scope out the rest of the scene. It was just us and the man now. Theyre all dead, everyone of them. He wheezed, tears welling up. Lanston called another ambulance and the fire team to the address over his radio in a violently calm voice. I looked at his face, he was scared. It was horrifying seeing a grown man- a grown police officer so terrified. The smoke from the house was billowing up to the sky now, like some sort of signal from god to stop this nightmare. I was too focused on the sky, to realize that the man had took his final breath. Langston closed his eyelids in respect, and stood to his feet. He looked at me with the most peculiar look in his eyes, and said,
I want to see them die too. Upon hearing his words, something inside of me snapped. It may have been the little sanity I had left, or the pieces of humanity that my parents and the world taught me. Either way, both were gone. The officers returned from their perimeter search, and brought a note to the sheriff. The officer who handed langston the note, almost couldnt even hold it,because his hands were trembling so hard. I stood beside him, and we read it,
Help me, help me, is what you all will be saying."
s_891_228,"300 Years Of Heaven Was a Punishment My name is Nathan, and I came back after living in Heaven for exactly 300 years. I am sure a lot of people would be curious as to how that felt so let me start from how I got there. I tried to be a good person, but my horrible temper always got in the way. It was to the point to where I no longer had friends. My family stopped talking to me, including my own mother, father, and two sisters. I was only 21 years old, but I was truly alone. I tried to blame everyone around me, but I knew, deep down, that it was my own fault. Enough of my sob story. Let me tell you how I died. I got off of my shift at the local grocery store and was walking back home. On the way home, a man walked up to me and asked, Hey man, could you spare some cash? I lost my job a couple of days ago and I need to get some type of food for my kids. He pointed at a hungry boy and girl sitting behind him, but I scoffed and said, Not that hard to get a job. Why did you even procreate when youre fucking trash? I gave him a quick chuckle and walked past him when I felt pain erupt from my lower back. The next couple of seconds were filled with a knife plunging into my chest. I dont know when I blacked out, but the next thing I remember was opening my eyes and seeing a woman sitting close to my head and saying, Stay calm. Were almost there. Stay with-. I blacked out again and before I knew it I was met by a sense of absolute peace. Before I opened my eyes, I knew I was floating. When I opened my eyes I saw myself floating through a fog of memories. Through the fog, I could see myself yelling and cussing out my parents a year ago before storming out of their house. That was the last time I saw them. The next thing I saw was the time I was pulled over by the cops with my best friend since we were 6, Brad. He was there for me whenever I needed someone the most, but I took advantage of that. When a cop pulled us over I took out the 7 grams of coke out of my pocket and threw it on the car seat behind me. Brad looked at me with pleading eyes while the cops cuffed him, but I acted oblivious to everything. I closed my eyes again and did not open them until I felt solid ground under my feet. With a deep sigh, I opened my eyes and saw around 20 to 30 people standing in front of me. I looked down and saw that we were standing on a clear glass of some sort. When I looked back up I saw that I was next in line. I rushed up to a man that stood in front of the largest gate I have ever seen in my life. The gate was simple, but it looked to be made of solid gold. After ogling at the gate for a couple of seconds I looked down at the man in front of me. He was maybe a little over 4 feet tall, poorly maintained facial hair that covered half of his face, and eyes filled with sadness and disappointment. I opened my mouth to ask him who he was, but before I could get a sound out he spoke in a raspy voice, Nathan Cliff, enter through the gates. Although I was confused, I rushed through the gates and looked around. A road paved with gold, bodies made of solid light walking around everywhere, and other people walking around with dreamy expressions on their faces. Besides the people that walked around me, everything around me was a mixture of absolutely pure light. Something far brighter and crisper than anything I have ever seen. The only thing that stuck out like a sore thumb was a man dressed in all red with a piece of paper. Written on the piece of the paper was the date. Somehow, whenever the man flipped the paper over it gave the date of the next day, and an endless swarm of people surrounded the man. The first 50 years passed by quickly. I met a lot of other people, we talked about our lives, but I quickly became bored. You can only talk to so many people before their lives start sounding the same. We never grew hungry, tired, or thirsty, but it never ended my cravings. I wanted to get a good nights rest. I wanted to eat just one carrot and savor all of the taste. I wanted to quench a thirst with a cool glass of water, but all we had was each other and those damn angels that never said a word to anyone. For the next 110 years, I reflected back on my life. It may seem like a long time to think about 21 years of life, but you can learn a lot more about your life just by revisiting the same memory thousands of times. You learn to see things in more than just your perspective, in ways much more than the words said. It took me 160 years to finally snap. I dont know what came over me, but I wanted to leave this place. I wanted to go to hell. Anything would be better than here. This is when everything around me started to fall apart. It started with me walking up to the bodies of light we called the angels. I tried talking to them, but they never responded back to a word I said. When I truly became desperate, I tried to attack them in any way possible, but anything I struck them with would just go through them. With every attempt, they just looked at them and said the same thing. Keep searching. Keep walking. For you will find the answer. Eighty years have gone by since then, and all I have done was failed attempts of attacking other angels as well as asking everyone else if they knew what the answer was. Everything was a failure. I started to give up hope, but I started on the longest journey of my life. I turned around and started running as fast as I could. I would still see the man flip the sign over and tell us what the next day was. It was annoying at times, but it was really the only thing that kept me from going insane. 55 years go by. It is now my 295th year in Heaven, and I started to see the gate I walked through three lifetimes ago. Three years of constant running and I dont feel like Im any closer, but the scenery around me changes. I am now surrounded by body parts and blood lying all around where I run. I came across a couple of heads, and whenever I see each one I stop running and asking them what happened. Each of them said the same exact thing, Dont look for the truth. The truth wont help you. Endure the punishment. It only gets worse from here. I started to get scared. Not just scared for my life. This was far more. I was scared for my soul. The part that will never die. The part that will suffer for all eternity. No matter how bad we were cut up, sliced open, or just cut into dozens of pieces like the people around me now, I would not be able to leave. This was a punishment that will never end. After three years of running and hearing the same thing over and over again, I started to second guess myself, but I needed to know. It was beyond curiosity. I was trying to get out of the eternal suffering I ended up in. Two years later and the start of my 300th year I approached the gates. I walked up to the man that stood in the front of the gate and fell to my knees, a defeated man. He looked at me with the same eyes that were filled with disappointment and sadness before saying, Nathan Cliff. Poor Nathan Cliff. I begged him to let me out. To let me leave, but he simply said back, Learn the truth and you may leave. In between heavy breaths of panic, I replied back, They told me you would tell me the truth. Or that I would find the truth on my way here. He simply said back, You know the truth. I said the first thing in my mind Is this Hell? He chuckled and said, No. You are in Heaven, but what makes you think Heaven is for the good? You left the paradise created by God. The paradise ruined by us. We can blame the devil all we want, but we are the ones that continue to do wrong. Do you think Lucifer continues to spread his lies to the people when the lies are spread for him? I wanted to argue with him, but deep down I knew that was the truth. Humans are truly what ruined the world God made us. Lucifer may have tempted us, but we are the ones that truly ruined it. I woke back up and saw the woman that was talking to me before I lived through the scariest experience of my life. She calmly said, Dont worry. Youre back now. Dont go on us. Were almost there. I knew she was mostly saying it for herself, but I gave her my best attempt of a nod. She put the defibrillator back down and we were silent for the rest of the ride. Im in the hospital now. I learned that I was dead for 45 seconds. 45 seconds that created exactly 300 years for me. Im on my phone now. The doctors are done treating me. Pain is still erupting all over my body, but man does it feel good. I have a tray of food in front of me. Carrot sticks that I never liked, but it is bursting with flavor for me. Water that is quenching my parched throat, and after I post this experience to you guys I am going to enjoy a [good nights rest.] ( <URL>)"
s_697_135,"Yeah I wasnt very drunk last night and I know for a fact he wasnt drunk at all. I think hes just a piece of shit all the time. Which is a real shame because it wouldve been soo cool to get the opportunity to work for him or one of his connections without all the sex stuff being brought up. He couldve just been a decent human and offered the job or offered a contact that would give me a job. Just the way he approached and talked about it was actually disgusting, he had no shame at all and just said it like it was nothing. Now Im just severely disappointed to say the least I was excited to have met someone that has literally my dream job and knows pretty much everyone in the small town I live in that does that same thing. Today I just feel sad and disappointed."
s_1134_121,"I only hate myself
:'/"
s_2958_232,"I'm dealing with pretty bad depression, that for the most part stems from those kind of reactions. I always think of all the stupid things I've done and it just brings me down."
s_1599_20,"Same here! I would put on a mask of confidence and act as though I was. In all reality, I hated myself. That's not the case anymore. I know my worth. I know how much influence I can have. NoFap has helped me so much."
s_1551_187,"Not much to my knowledge, nothing really interested me heavily. Always just been a hard worker when something did though"
s_2107_11,want to chat? if there is someone who wants to chat about movies or rock music and nerdy things. i have depression. i have Skype.
s_1900_9,"A Simple Procedure **This is a warning! Please read my story and heed my advice! Tell everyone you can not to make the same mistake I made!** I am a fitness freak, *was* a fitness freak. Marathons, Tae Bo, P90X and Insanity, basketball twice a week, indoor soccer, free weights twice a week, cycling every Sunday morning, and exploring trails and caves in between. That is until I suffered a double hernia. I was in the early prime of my life and just beginning to peak, I mean HUGE gains the month before. My wife wasnt the happiest about how much time I spent working out but she sure appreciated the results. Anyway, back to the hernia. It would have been fine if it had been an umbilical hernia, those arent so bad. Usually back to work the next day with no complications if you are in any semblance of fitness. Of course, I wasnt so lucky. Mine were lower, very low an indirect inguinal hernia and a femoral hernia both of which I was told were congenital, meaning I was born with them. Apparently the extreme workouts built enough muscle in places I never really had to force my intestines around into wherever they could go and bam, a huge bulge just below my waistline. Insert penis joke here. Normally I wouldnt worry about it. I have pushed through injuries all the time and heal quickly. The first time I felt it happen I just pushed it back in and kept going at it, scissor kick after scissor kick. It didnt show up again for another two weeks but it hurt that time and from then on as well. I could always push it back in but it started to pop out more and more frequently. Totally freaked out my wife the first time it happened during sex, Ill tell you what. She dialed my doctor for me, still naked, and pushed the phone into my hand to make an appointment. Fast forward a few weeks and I am getting wheeled out of the clinic with a small incision and a little bag full of meds. The doctor said I was lucky nothing serious happened like intestine strangulation because it was very bad, so bad that they had to use a new procedure to fill all the gaps. I dont speak doctor but basically, she said it looked like an ant colony down there, lots of little holes and rooms for the intestines to get trapped in and back me up really good. I had taken that day, Friday, off of work to get the procedure done and had to be back on Monday bright and early something I really didnt think would be an issue. That is until I tried to take my first step or sit up in bed or take a leak. Who knew such a tiny cut could cause so much damage and pain? I made it in to work much to the dismay of my wife but I wasnt much use. I couldnt stand up fully straight and I couldnt lift or push anything over five pounds. I basically shuffled around like an old man in a robe and loafers trying to find his glasses. Towards the end of the shift, my boss called me in and asked me how I was doing (not great) and decided to give me the rest of the week off to recover faster. I wasnt happy about it, (pride you know?) but I did go home. Things didnt improve that week, nor the week after. In fact, things only progressed downward. I regained some strength and mobility but I kept getting shooting pains throughout my body that began at my incision and lanced out in all directions, pulsing once, then twice. The incision was always itchy and tingly and felt like something was moving around, burrowing or pushing my insides around. It reminded me of the ant colony analogy my doctor used thousands of ants crawling along the underside of my skin laying eggs in all of my organs and muscle tissue. My head throbbed, my eyes were itchy and red constantly, even my brain itched. Have you ever felt like that? Then, suddenly, it was all gone. The pain, the tightness in my muscles, the tickly tingles under my skin. I went back to work like nothing had ever happened, stronger and spryer than before, like I hadnt missed almost a month of workouts. In fact, my usual weights seemed a bit lighter and I was quicker than I used to be on the basketball court. I hit the gym hard for a month trying to capitalize on this high I was on and turn it into sick gains. As they say, though, all good things must come to an end. It started out small a missed step up the stairs or my hand letting go of a weight mid-curl like a total gym-tool. Each day it seemed to get worse, more missed steps, sometimes even going the wrong direction. Cutting to the left and out of bounds is pretty embarrassing in the middle of a championship basketball game. It was like I had zero control of my body! I am not sure what prompted me but I began looking into the new procedure they had used on me during my outpatient operation. I couldnt quite remember what the doctor had said so it took a while for me to find it but it is called Nanomesh and it is supposed to fix all the issues they have had in the past with mesh inserts slipping, getting rejected by the surrounding tissues, and causing internal pain and bleeding. Instead, this mesh is flexible and adapts to your body so that it can blend right into any multitude of tissues it is placed by and can stretch and even grow to close off holes that appear near it. In theory, it sounds awesome. In practice, however, all the kinks havent been worked out quite right. So here we are in the here and now. Things have become much worse since I have begun to type this up almost two weeks ago. I have had to resort to writing out a section in random emails or on forums and then cutting and pasting them into this document in order to fool myself (hopefully it will all make sense) but I dont know how much longer Ill be able to keep it up. It is learning quickly, taking over more and more each day. I think it has spread much further than just a few inches to heal newly formed holes. It is in my brain, controlling everything I do. Sometimes I can force myself but often I fail, unable to break through the hold it has on my body. My wife is lying on the floor next to me, dead. I, it, we, killed her after a few questions too many for our liking. She is really decomposed now, and the flies are coating her so thickly I cant even see her once beautiful hair. Fortunately, the mesh has turned off my ability to smell otherwise Id probably vomit from the stench of her rotting flesh. Once I finish this I am going to try and kill myself. I doubt it will work but maybe I can trick it, or force someone to kill me. Please, if you get a hernia or need anything like a mesh insert **do not** let them use Nanomesh. [](<URL>)"
s_1625_520,"I see no future. The past makes me cry (almost every day) so I force myself to come back to today, the now. I am physically healthy. I am comfortable. I live in a nice house in a pretty setting. I say these things over and over to myself--and they are true. When I stop saying them, the sadness can quickly come back--of the losses of the past, of the empty future."
s_2401_22,Can't study at all I'm currently in treatment for depression and anxiety. I just can't study at all. I've been sitting at my desk for hours but just can't study at all. I have HSC exams in less then 20 days and I'm still not able to finish minimum syllabus. I just don't know what to do. Feeling hopeless and worthless.
s_2402_24,"I have hardly any motivation to do stuff anymore. I can't bear to get myself out of bed anymore. Can't do washing, tidy my room, do college work or make my bed. Can't wash or Really do anything apart from listen to music. I'm hardly sleeping, I have no appetite hardly and I'm not doing my teeth, but the last 2 is down to my PTSD. I also have BPD, I think I'm going through a depressive episode. I just don't want to be here, there's not a single day I go by where I don't think I of dying. Life's too stressful, let me die."
s_888_1617,"I tried to kill myself a few years ago, but then I stopped being a pussy ass nerd."
s_2958_236,"It feels like a weight pushing down on me just enough to make me hate everything. It makes my thoughts loud, cold, and for the most part logical. I don't cry, it's just numbness, it feels like pressure. You know that feeling you get when you know you've hurt yourself badly like a deep cut or really bad bruise and it's so bad you can't even feel it, well it's like that all the time. Sometimes I get sick of feeling like this, I can only take stuffing it down so long, I used to get angry quite a lot, not these days but I used to. It was just a horrible alternative to feeling nothing."
s_1812_1207,I'm perfectly relaxed and calm. Why should I get angry about this? I'm just trying to debate.
s_2727_538,"I've always felt pretty guilty about the amount that I not only sleep talk but sleep shout, actually, I pretty much only sleep shout... If I'm shouting angrily at someone in my dream then chances are I will shout it out loud too, waking us both up. It's become so routine (happens at least once or twice a month, usually more often during periods of stress or whatever) that we just accept it by now. I'll mumble a quick ""sorry"" and we'll both be back asleep again in seconds. I've also hit him in my sleep a few times, usually pretty hard, I always feel really bad about it, especially seeing as I'm normally half awake as I do it, and realise just as I thump him that whatever I was fighting in my dream is actually just my sleeping SO. The first time I did it was only a week or so into our relationship, felt so so guilty about. I'd done the shouting thing before with a previous partner, but the hitting is a recent thing (I must sound like such a terrible person now, omg, he's pretty chill about it thankfully and teases me about it). I'm honestly not an angry person or anything, IRL I'm really normally passive and quiet and would never hit anybody and rarely shout, nor do I tend to have particularly violent dreams. But if I do have them, chances are my boyfriend is gonna get hit or sworn at. (Damn, he's tolerant, I'm going to go hug him right now...)
EDIT: Mostly it's just me yelling at dream antagonists to ""F*CK OFF!"" or some variation on that. Such rage, where does it all come from? Oh parasomnias, amirite?..."
s_3028_165,"I have not. The last time I cried was almost seven years ago. However, I would not judge a friend if they cry in front of me. I hope you're doing okay, OP."
s_134_349,"Well, it affects every single aspect of my life. It'd take me a day to write it out and there are multiple people that have already written articles/blogs on their own experiences. What are the biggest things for me (at the moment) have been school. I can't concentrate, I don't care about getting good grades, I don't go to class b/c I can't get out of bed, I feel sick when I get a bad grade or don't know something, I feel alone in the classroom, or i won't be able to complete a class so then i start thinking about my future and how i won't graduate because i can't complete the coursework, so i won't get a job, won't get a house, be broke, no one will want to marry me, can't provide for family, friends hate me, etc, the list goes and on and on it goes. Then there's work. I can't get out of bed or bathe, so fuck it, I'll call in. Then I'll realize I should just quit because my brain says I'm useless. Hard to remain interested in a job or give a fuck or no get angry at the littlest things. then you start worrying about money without a job and then the wild thoughts run through your head like stated above. And then socially - I feel like laying in bed all day, in pjs, unshowered. I don't want to talk to anyone. I see people doing things, having fun, excelling at work, and it makes me feel bad about myself. I think I'm useless or boring or a pain for others, a burden, etc. This was based on depression, but there's also problems with anxiety and mania that are pretty much the same things."
s_151_524,"Need some advice about new ownership, employment.... Help! So my boss is selling her salon, and it looks like it's happening fast. There are 3 potential buyers, one who has been serious enough to call me. See, I think I'm part of the package? Like I'll teach the new person about our clients and the area (And apparently some of the buyers think I'll teach them how to groom for free?!?!?!?) Also included in this package, are kennels, the tub, a grooming table, dryers, and all of our 6 years worth of clients. I want to stay. I like the salon a lot, and the dogs we get are amazing. I just don't know what to do. This week, my boss is already packing up her stuff and has a friend that has the key to let buyers come by. So essentially, I don't have a job this week. I'm just going to people's houses that call me. With all this in mind, please, please, please, someone make some sense of this situation, any advice would be wonderful."
s_2038_51,"How 2 seduce, while having depression Ok so for a while now I have been having an issue handling girls and depression. Recently I started talking to this really cute girl in my class and we have gone out on a few casual dates. The issue started to arise when she mentioned she is in a long distance relationship with her boyfriend who she cares a lot about. I felt rejected. And have been really bummed out about it. I wish I could seduce her even though she has a boyfriend, but my depression literally brings my confidence down to zero. Since I feel rejected i have been feeling sad. I feel like it's a repeating cycle. Should I pursue or Learn great seducing tips?"
s_2402_721,"My nightmares are getting so much worse, and I don't know how to cope For the past week my nightmares have gotten so much worse. I've only been sleeping for 3-4 hours a night which isn't normal for me. I had to go away on Residential for 4 nights, which triggered this. But since I've came home my nightmares have been the same, stopping me from going to sleep because I've been too scared to, so I've been staying up at like 3-4 in the morning to completey exhaust me, but I always wake up around 7-8 to get ready for my course which starts at 9:30 and carries on till 4. The lack of sleep is really catching up on me. It's making me all shivery with headaches and I'm constantly tired and snappy. I don't know how much longer I can handle this"
s_1404_105,"How can I get my life energy back? Im a 21 year old boy. I have been depressed for 4 years. My physical and mental health have both become bad. Symptoms: 1. I cannot enjoy anything. Eating my favorite food? Listening any music? Playing videogames? Spending time with friends? Going out in nature? I cannot enjoy any of it anymore. I do not even remember how it feels to enjoy anything because it was so long ago that I was able to enjoy life. I tried everything. I tried doing things I enjoyed in the past, I tried doing new hobbies. Can't enjoy it the slightest. I have no motivation/energy to work on my future. Ofcourse I have plans in my head and I wanna make achievements but I just dont have the energy to work on it. Where in the past I could easily study for hours without getting distracted, now I cannot effectively study more than a few minutes per day. I tried so many things. Getting rid of distractions, taking breaks, nope. I just cant focus anymore. Im always tired. Both physically and mentally. If I walk upstairs even just one floor, my legs hurt. It's not that im out of breath, it's just that the muscles in my legs are exhausted instantly. Yes, I tried eating more protein amp; working out. I tried it and working out only exhausts me more. I wanna mention that I have been going to doctors, hospitals, psychologists, psychiatrist and all those people... I have been doing this for years and none of them could help me. Talking with a psychologist doesn't make me enjoy life. Taking medicine doesnt make me enjoy life. Working out and going to the doctor doesn't cure my weak body. Trying everything to get better focus on study, no succes either. I just lost my energy. My body is weak, my mind is weak. No doctor or specialist can help me, that's what I have learned in the years I have been talking with them. Why is my energy so low? Why am I a depressed bag of dead flesh? How can I get my energy back that I had when I was a child? How can I enjoy anything again?"
s_3003_425,":) Yes yes I know, but I've got guilt problems, then feel guilty for feeling guilt, and so on! Thanks Coog, it's nice to have a ""listening ear"" (or however we're supposed to translate that for typing :) )"
s_1514_116,"The Grey Riders (Final, part one) [1](<URL>) [2](<URL>) [3](<URL>) [4](<URL>) [Sick Day](<URL>) [5.1](<URL>) [5.2](<URL>) [5.3](<URL>) [5.4](<URL>) [5.F](<URL>) [6](<URL>) [7](<URL>) [8](<URL>) [9](<URL>) [10](<URL>) [11](<URL>) [12](<URL>) [13](<URL>)
What does dying feel like? It's soaring. It's flying. Arms spread wide, eyes closed, you don't lookbecause you don't need to see. On my back in a roaring cocoon of air, all emotions suspended in a timeless moment of pure calm and regret and nostalgia and love and determination, I fell in the same position in which we had first found Cristina on the cross. Once, as a child, I'd floated down a river on my back with arms spread; I'd hoped to be taken to places new and unknown to escape my life, and now that wish was being granted. The rushing veil of wind lifted my unkempt hair away from my face and I opened my eyes. I've been losing touch with my childhood pains for quite some time, and thus I find myself standing in a quiet poster-lined hallway rather than in the movie theater itself. The carpet is that old faded red I remember so well, for I was far closer to the ground back then. At some point in my life, I stopped really looking at carpet patterns and sidewalk grasses and roots in the path ahead. Now, nearing my end, I wish I'd kept up the habit. There is *so much beauty* in every single fractal detail of existence; enough to make ignoring even the slightest natural artwork a tragedy. But I came here for a reason. The theater is empty save for a haunting shadow that lurks in the corner watching me, so I angle past the concessions stand and out the front doors. The glass showed only white light, but I emerge onto a beach the color of dancing fire. Red and orange sand angles down beneath my boots toward a vivid blue ocean under a strikingly clear sky. On the horizon to my left I sight a high stone wall like that of an ancient city; just behind me, a tilted stone head twice the height of a person sits gazing unblinking across the sea. I take in all of this on the first look around. The second reveals the object of my search to me. He is sitting in the fiery sand directly ahead, arms around his knees. Like the weathered stone face, he, too, watches the bright ocean horizon. "" He stands suddenly, and I feel some measure of relief at seeing his kind smile and crooked nose again. He approaches across the sand from a distance, but somehow immediately steps close. "" How on Earth are you here?"" ""There's not much time,"" I tell him, my relief turning to cold iron. "" I'm falling. I need to understand what these realms are, what Death is, and how to stop it. You told me during the Time of Sickness, when I nearly drowned in a well, that you had met Death. Can you take me to it?"" ""Falling?"" he asks, concerned. I reiterate, ""Falling."" For a brief moment, the sensations of life bleed through the curtain of perception. He gives a compassionate frown. "" I'm sorry."" ""It won't matter if I'm successful. Time is short."" He looks around, noticing the growing rapidity of our environment. Blue waves subtly roll in faster, the wind picks up speed, and my heart races in my imagined chest. All these things move in rhythm, increasing. For some reason, this perturbs him, but he still seems willing. "" He grabs my wrist and begins running toward the distant city wall. I go with him, acutely aware of the unheard sounds of a metaphorical clock made real ticking relentlessly faster and faster as I fall; as I run. He shouts, ""Open the gates!""and a massive ingress reveals itself as two enormous slabs of bronze slide apart. Crowds of blurry-faced denizens watch us pass with awe. I stare briefly at their obscured expressions, trying to understand how I know what they're feeling, but all I can make out are primarily brown clothes heavy with strips and patches of bright reds, yellows, and blues. One waves, but how would I recognize him even if I knew him? Staring as we run past, I ask, ""What is this place?"" ""The unnamed city,"" he responds, pulling me along twisted alleyways made of tan stone. "" We can't linger here."" Gazing up at gold and bronze trimmings along the edges of flat roofs speeding by, I ask, ""The Unnamed City?"" Not capitalized like that, since that would be a name."" He looks left down one passage, then right along another. "" This unnamed city has infinite variants that coexist all at the same time. It is a place of urban dreams, and matches the layout of wherever you live for a short timebut if you stop moving anywhere but the gates or the docks, it'll change, and you'll get lost forever."" Indeed, the crowd around us begins running at great speeds, pushing us along like a jubilant and cheerful river of greetings and recognitions. Blurry hands point at me from windows and doors and balconies while countless distorted voices shout eagerly to one another about the newcomer in their midst. ""Have you been here before?"" Heath asks as he turns sharply for a set of hewn tan stairs. We run up and out of the dense flow; as I step thankfully onto a clear and flat roof, I respond, ""No, have you?"" After leaping to the next roof, he says, ""Yes... in another life."" Jumping from roof to roof, I shout over the growing wind, ""You've said that before. What do you mean?"" ""If I knew, I would tell you!"" he yells back. "" I've been places I shouldn't, seen things I wasn't supposed to know! I didn't go beyond the veil of Death like everyone elsebecause it thirsted for knowledge, and because it needed a willing and living human being to get here, a shadow of the primal essence of Hunger took me to these Dream Tessellations instead."" A shadow? Looking back over my shoulder, I see the watcher following us still. "" Is that it? Is that the thing that brought you here?"" My hungry friend got caught in a dodekeract; it was too literal-minded, and couldn't experience metaphorical existence and navigate surreality the way we can. It couldn't *dream.* The entity back there is something else, and has been following you as long as I've known you."" Ominous isn't a strong enough word. I realize that, even here, I am still at war. Surging ahead, I lend Heath some of my swiftness, and we speed over rooftops now blurring because of us rather than some natural property of the locale. The docks curve toward us along the slope of the world, and we leap down worn tan-brick stairs to reach the boats below. ""This is the hub of the Dream Tessellations,"" he explains, breathing hard. "" These boats can sail out onto the ocean and go anywhere you can imagine."" Unfazed by the run thanks to the million hearts burning with mine, I ask, ""Will this path take me to Death, or just an imagined version of him?"" Heath shrugs. "" What's real in the back alleys of existence? What's real outside your own perceptions?"" That isn't good enough. "" Did you imagine meeting your Death?"" Still recovering, he looks down for a moment. "" No, I don't think so. It was definitely him."" Looking back up at me, he says, ""But that doesn't mean yours will be anything like mine. If it happens, it'll be a very personal experience open to lifetimes of interpretation and understandingand every culture has their own version of Death."" I don't quite understand, but I am not going to back down now. There can be no compromise. "" No time for a boat. The horizon you say?"" He nods, and then points out across placid blue. "" For what you seek, that way."" After seeing me take a step forward, he adds, ""Be careful. You can lose yourself in these realms. There are a million reflections of you out therethe people you could have been, the people you were, and the people you might beand not all of them are good people. Find the Truth, and you'll find your purpose. ""Thank you."" I give my strange friend a deep nod. ""Before you go,"" he says quickly. "" Will you tell Cristina and Noah I'm alright?"" That stops me in my tracks despite the trembling clock in my mind brimming with nervous energy. "" You know them?"" ""We never met in person, but if not for them, I would have been trapped forever, and I just"" He cuts himself off and wipes a tear from under one eye. "" Maybe they'll tell you about it sometime."" Despite the strangeness of my location and surroundings, I lower my guard to give him a hug. "" I will tell them. Thank you for your guidance."" He nods. "" It's who I am to help you, just like it's who you are to do what you're about to do. Last time we met, I remembered some of my life from about eight centuries ago and I tried to warn you about waking Conradbut that was not my role, just like it's not my role to advise against your duel with Death."" He sighs. "" Stay by Cristina's side, will you? She'll need your support to stay the course. All of existence is at stake. I just don't know how yet. Does any of this make sense?"" A genuine laugh escapes my throat, and, for a moment, I forget my overwhelming rush. In the formal, I tell him, ""No. Not in the slightest, friend."" ""You're a nice person,"" he murmurs, understanding me despite my shift in language. "" I've missed having someone living around to talk to. If you'd been here, maybe I could have made sense of the strange things I've learned in my eons spent wandering the Tessellations. Please remember these words, for giving you this may be the last real thing I do: the Lovers circle opposite around a vast whirlpool of warm red water; they seek each other, but neither can see the other, save for a single message in a bottle that bobs hopefully in the heat. The Ruthless Parent, denied her child, cracks an orb of gold and spills hatred and bitterness into a massive white whirlpool of light. And the Survivor walks across his prison cell in a single step, but it takes all eternity; he arrives enlightened, but a black whirlpool awaits to steal away everything he ever knew."" The shadow lurking around the corner behind us stares; I try to memorize every word. "" What's it mean?"" He shakes his head. "" I don't know exactly. I saw these images when I sought the Truth. My Death, before he faded away, warned me that the fury of Life's conflict will escalate until all of existence is in danger. I fear we may be in the final cycle of Time, and I think Cristina will need your help to avoid being part of the problem."" I think of her kindness and motherly warmth; I think of the fires of war that burn inside her, and I think of her coldly militant heart. She did not order the attack on the Enemy to be halted as she'd promised me in private, but she'd certainly secured the list of Finders to seek out her lost family members. I sense deep pain in her, and that ruthlessness to protect the ones I love also exists in me, so""I understand."" He flashes a sad smile. "" The ticking clock surges back like a graceful punch, and with its force I soar out onto the water, running along the waves like so many raised footholds. I see quickly that the horizon he spoke of is a literal thing; speeding toward the approaching blue wall of airy light, I look back to see him receding in the distance. He stands on the dock and raises a fist in a silent cheer once. At that, I understand that I will never see the kind man with the crooked nose againnot even in the realms of Death after Life, for he will not be travelling that direction with the rest of us. The sky hits, and I sail through heat and light, arms wide like imaginary wings. Alone for the first time, it dawns upon me that glorious other worlds and other forms of consciousness *do* exist. What wonders abound in the Dream Tessellations? There are peoples here; cities, streets, docks. There are beaches, oceans, and skies. My kind friend with the crooked nose met one of the forms of Death in person. Am I one step closer to the afterlife here? To the Truth of existence? Could I meet one of the forms of God here? Gods, entities, overseers, the lot? I only learned of these concepts moments ago by the measure of my life's span, and yet here I am, soaring through open blue in the realms of the mind on my way to challenge Death. What secrets does the vast sea of existence hold for us tiny creatures? Could we one day fight our way to the surface and see reality for what it is truly is? The fire of a million human hopes burns in a layer just below this one. That energy is my grounding, my footing, and my strength. I blaze along roiling white energy toward a limitless realm of darkness. Somewhere, my physical body is still falling, but I must ignore that dread and press on. The shadow behind me mirrors that fear, always following, but never interfering. I feel it. I am closer to the tide of fatigue and loss that comes from injury. I am closer to Death. My leaping run changes tone as I land and slide across smooth obsidian. The ocean is gone, the light is gone, and only darkness reigns. Tremendous drumbeats echo to infinity as black monoliths rise slowly from the landscape in every direction. Is my presence known? The world reacts to me, but not with intent. Bracing as smooth black glass trembles beneath me, I remain vigilant for attack as I risebut none comes. I have never felt smaller. In the enormity of this realm, I am but a blue spark upon endless void; I run, but I am so small that I hardly move in relative terms. The currents in the darkness take me into that vast realm, and I am no different than the othersand there *are* others. My living heart beats with the incomprehensible horror of eons as I stumble my way through the pitch among ashen and expressionless faces. I've seen this before. I've seen Tacitus, Rufus, and Porcia like this as they sat in that movie theater of my mind while I brushed Death; they watched the play of my life with white faces, thin lips, and unfeeling eyes. Countless faces like theirs pass in the dark as their bearers drift toward their destination. It is cold, and panic burns through me. "" Silent moving monoliths the size of planets rearrange themselves in repeating geometric patterns. The dead, with their organic uneven faces, do not respond. I push at a grim woman of about forty, but she ignores my touch and continues plodding on. I grab the arm of a young man in his twenties, but his limb bursts into dust, and he continues mindlessly walking along glassy obsidian. Death lies ahead. They walk towards an impossibly massive black wall on the horizon without hesitation, slaves to their loss of will. Something in me knows that the wall is not solid. Worse, it is a passable membrane, and unknown horrors beyond imagination await on the other side. None can return. I scream at them and lay about with my fists, but my attacks have no effect. "" Don't do it! Stop, *please!*"" The scope is beyond comprehension. Millions trudge to their dissolutions in darkness; those that recently died, and those about to die. Time is blurred in this twilit realm. Their faces, their hollow expressions, leave their lives open like a litany of events. Bad people, good people, unremarkable people; all drift past in endless procession. There, a man from Amber Eight, who died when it exploded. There, a refugee girl and her parents who will die in a battle we have yet to fight against Her Glory Enraged. There, an old woman from the now-destroyed First World, dying of hunger on her exodus from the Empire. Everywhere I look, more lost souls moving into gloom. This is the correct place. This is the correct realm of Death. I've found itwhat now? I feel stupid. What did I expect? That Death would be a humanoid man that I could fight with my sword? I am nothing compared to the sheer size and scope of the worlds, realms, and layers of existence. My voice is nothing to the endless procession of ashen faces. "" Falling to my knees on obsidian, I can't help but sob. The massive drumbeat of the grinding black monoliths and the boundless silence of Death make all I am and all I have nothing but foolishness. I am going to lose everything and everyone I love and there is nothing I can do. ""Venita?"" On my feet, I look around in surprise. A smiling old man approaches, and I almost don't recognize him for all the time I've been away. "" Grandfather?"" Chill grips me. "" What are you doing here?"" ""Oh, just having a bad dream,"" he tells me, laughing and dismissing my fears. Gazing up at the clockwork sky of shifting obsidian cubes, he grimaces. "" Quite the nightmarish place you've found to sob in."" Coughing awkwardly and wiping away my tears, I regard him for a moment before recognizing the truth of who he is. He hugs me back with force, and I tell him, ""How do I move forward? How does anything matter in the face of *this?*"" He lets off our hug and then holds up my wrist to show me the silver bracelet still upon it. "" You see this? This is a promise. You may not know the little girl that gave it to you after you saved her life, you may not be friends, and you may not see her again, but this is what we do for each other. We remember, and we care."" He gazes ahead at the infinite black wall. "" That may lie ahead of us always and it may consume us all eventually, but it can never take away what we are. It will never *understand,* therefore it can never truly suppress us."" Mystified, I ask, ""Grandfather... do you know what Death is?"" Quite serious, he nods. "" Of course, granddaughter of mine, and it is nothing to be worried about in the slightest."" He raises his arms and enters a mock combat stance. "" For it can never touch those of us who come from a line of ancient heroes!"" All the pain of my own smallness fades as the giggle overtakes me. "" Grandfather, stop!"" My laugh only deepens as he continues making funny faces and acting out his tales. "" Now's not the time for a story!"" ""On the *contrary!*"" he shouts. "" Now is the perfect time to tell you of our ancestors yet again in the form of an incredibly long and convoluted yarn with no clear meaning. In that way, it is Life's tale! Just like us, it never ends. It just begins again!"" He leans close. "" Also, a strange little shadow is following us, and I hoped to confuse it."" ""You see it too?"" I glance back at it briefly. "" It's been following me for a very long time."" My grandfather flashes it a sour frown. "" Peeping tom."" Turning toward the great Wall again, he spies a very different approaching form. His humor fades completely for the first time that I've ever seen. "" You've come seeking trouble, my granddaughter, and I believe you've found it."" The spark of pure darkness approaches on a foul wind at terrifying speed. The drumbeat of the black realm deepens as it sweeps forth. In moments, it comes to a sudden halt high in the open air above us, and I see that it is the silhouette of a man; its cloak ruffles in the breezes of its own approach. He slowly draws two swords made of unfathomable void, and his voice feels like the very concept of aging upon my ears. * Is this what you wanted?* Struggling to stand against the waves of fatigue emanating from his mere presence, I shout, ""Are you him? Are you Death?"" *I wasn't,* he responds. * Until you called forth what you expected to see.* Even as I form my multi-tool into a sword and hold it up defensively, I realize that the weapon is just a construct of my mindbut judging by the nature of these realms, I bet that it will perform much the same as the real thing. Facing the silhouette above, I demand, ""You'd allow your enemy to choose your form?"" *It doesn't matter in the slightest to me. An endless wall, an inexhaustible opponentI could be a limitless fog if I really wanted to frustrate you. What would a poor little soldier like you do against an enemy you couldn't even hit?* I ready for a fight and glare. "" *No arrogance. Even existing as a singular entity or as an 'I' is a temporary condition created just for you; to crush your pitiful hopes. You are nothing but dust in Time's eye.* Why all the focus on demoralization? Waitdo I actually have a chance? Why would Death bother attempting to attack my morale? If I am the Sixth Millennial, do I actually have the ability to cause real change in the higher layers of existence? Instead of crushing me, his words have given me a sudden surge of hope. "" Then come at me, and we'll see."" The cloaked silhouette floats down with both swords open and waiting. My pulse races dangerously in my awareness, and I let it churn blue fire through my every fiber. He brings one sword up and slowly angles it down towards me. I watch it warily. My grandfather's shout reaches my ears: ""Venita! It is only that warning that gives me the instinct to brace. Death's sword gently taps my weaponand the force beyond the contact is like a hurricane detonation in my face. Obsidian glass tears away from the monolith at my feet, and I nearly fall with the pain that rips through my limbs. I should have expected it, but the realityit'she's*impossibly* strong! The second strike is swifter, and I leap back to avoid the explosion of volcanic glass. The monoliths are rearranging faster now, responding in the same way the environment did to my sense of Time at the fire-sand beach, and I have to take every advantage I can get. The next one is rising, and I use it to gain height; he strikes not at me, but at its sheer side, and the monolith ruptures underneath me as I jump to the next rising surface. His icy whisper reaches my ears from every direction. * Feel free to give up and run.* I give no credence to his words. Instead, breathing hard, I desperately seek a strategy. Waitcould Iit's all metaphorical, but it's also real. Human hopes are *real.* I can feel that fire churning like a star inside my heart. Instead of letting it burn wildly within, what if I channeled it? Gathering up a burst, I wait until Death floats closerand then jump forward and set my sword ablaze. The flaming blade cleaves bright blue through the air. Death pulls back, aghast. A slight nick on his left arm glows bright from where I caught him, and drops of infinite blackness fall to shattered obsidian far below. His unseen stare became intense; he spits, *Oathbreaker!* I hold my blazing sword at the ready, wary of another play. "" *I just thought you a fool. Some do stray this way at times. This is what you do with your sacred trust?* ""I don't know what that means! I don't know what *any of this* means!"" The righteous fire within becomes painfully hot as I let it forth. "" I'm *tired* of meaning being held back from me. I want to *know*. I want to know if God or Gods exist. I want to know what happens after death. I want to know what these dream realms are."" My final words come with the roar of a million desires. ""** Tell me the truth of existence!**"" Shaken, the cloaked silhouette turnsand shoots away at incredible speed. My grandfather calls up, ""Is this what you want, my granddaughter?"" ""It's not good enough,"" I shout back. "" We deserve better than what we've been given. All of us!"" ""I always was proud of you."" Even at that great distance, I can see his smile. "" I'll be fine."" What does he mean? I hadn't even thought aboutno, I shouldn't get distracted. Death is creating a great distance between us as he speeds toward the Wall. "" How can I possibly catch up to him?"" ""My last piece of advice, granddaughter. You were born for this in more ways than you know. When all this is done, find your father and ask him."" Far below, he makes an opening motion with his arms. "" Stop holding yourself back. You'll know."" The drumbeat of this realm is matched only by the beat of battle in my chest, and I suddenly understand that they are one and the same. Death, life, heartbeat, perceptionall the same. I've trained all my life for the proper mentality for this fight, and I've earned it by fire and then some. To take on the ultimate enemyyes. Jumping from my high obsidian perch, I let go of the constraints I've put upon myself by holding on. The people I love will still accept me. Of this, I am certain. Only their opinion matters, and their support is with me at all times. In many ways a mirror of my falling position in the real world, this time I face the open air with purpose, spreading my arms in the manner of a dreambut a dream it is not. The curve of force catches me and takes me up. Rather than falling, I shoot forward, suddenly in pursuit of the fleeing personification of Death. I don't have to look back; I know. They've always been there, but I was too terrified of standing out or being different to face the fact that I am not like other people. Here in the metaphorical realms of the Dream Tessellation, filled with the energy of countless hopes and beloved by the best people I've ever known, I can finally be myself. Like the multi-tool, this new part of me is an extension of my will, and this time I am not just running fast. I am truly flying. Burning sword held forward, I close with Death himself on wide wings of blazing blue fire. ---
[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)"
s_2184_536,"My boyfriend just got annoyed with me because I was eating a rice cake. So today my boyfriend and I planned to cook a stir fry together but now plans have changed and we're going out to dinner. I planned to eat less than 200 cal and then have a good portion of stir fry for dinner. I ended up having a few spoonfuls of cottage cheese at around 2, which was 70-80 cal. Then my bf and I were talking and decided we could use a coupon to go out to dinner and even though I was anxious about going out I figured I could fit it in and stay under 1000 cal. Because my stomach was growling so much and started to ache, I decided to have a 40 cal rice cake to calm it down before we have dinner. The first thing he says is ""why are you eating! We're going out to dinner soon."" And he seemed annoyed/angry. My first thought was ""hmm you're right, why am I eating"" and I blurted out ""I didn't really eat yet today"". Then he felt bad and I asked him to not ever ask me ""why"" I'm eating. I already feel guilty enough as it is. He knows I've been diagnosed with en ED, and knows I've been trying to eat more without feeling guilty. I've communicated that to him. I just feel like sometimes he's rather insensitive (without trying to be) because he's often very unobservant and doesn't pick up on certain things easily. I'm trying to get into losing weight the healthy way but my ED is preventing that, and sometimes my bf and other people just make it worse -_-"
s_586_428,"I think from personal experience I would prefer online loneliness rather then IRL, then again im hit with both... This reddit has been the most I've even hung out on the internet in a long time in terms of social media that is, I mainly use YouTube to watch videos but that's about it. I try my best to keep myself optimistic but most days it doesn't work as I would hope to like it too, then again it's probably best to not stay to optimistic just to eventually let myself down because I'd over hyped myself."
s_2890_406,This makes me feel deeply sad for some reason. Elephant cocks indeed.
s_1175_1063,"[Remorse] I watched a homeless woman die, and couldn't do anything to save her. [Remorse]: If you feel bad. This is something that happened to me awhile ago when I was 11. I figured writing it somewhere would help me feel better-ish. I'm just going to type it how it's written in my little manifesto of mine. Back in 2009, or 2008? I can't remember the year but it was awhile ago. I'm 17 and it happened when I was 11 for reference. When I was younger I took a grand trip to Canada, Alaska, and Seattle with my grandparents and my cousin. The cruise started from port in West Seattle (like by the Space Needle-ish and the cool stuff.) When we arrived in Seattle we decided to stay at a hotel for three days to visit the Dry Soda Company (I saw it on Food Network and was curious) the Space Needle, and, regretfully, the famous Pikes Place Market. Well, not regretfully as in going there was bad, but the market is a dark place in my mind because of my experience. We explored the lights and sounds, and shopped the first day. That was amazing. Seattle was, and is, a beautiful city with beautiful sights. Well, the ""supreme travel itinerary"" as my grandma dubbed it, was that we'd go to the Pikes Place market on the second day. Now, I don't know how it looks now, but when I visited there were a lot of homeless people. My grandparents told me not to pay any mind to them and to ignore them. This made me sad. A blemish of sorts, but it didn't deter me from the whole face of Seattle. I remember that whole morning as vivid as yesterday. I woke up, ignored the not-so-inviting continental breakfast and waited for my grandparents to finish. Hell, I even remember playing Yoshi's Island DS on my DS Lite. Well, they were always cheap. They finished up and we were off. As soon as we left the entrance we were greeted by a young women. She was obviously homeless by the tattered clothes and McDonalds cup with loose change in it. She melled like pot and paint thinner. She looked hungry and distraught. Her haggard frame didn't take away from her still young looking face. She seemed to be in her late 20's or early 30's from what I recall. Anyways, I remember reaching for my pokemon themed wallet with the intent to give her change. As I went to rummage for a penny or two my grandpa scolded me and snatched the wallet from my hands. "" No test_subject8195"" he said, ""There's a reason she's like that."" ""There's a reason she's like that."" That stuck with me. It still sticks with me. Here was this human being reduced to the status of a stray dog, and he said that. I remember sighing, still shocked at his demeanor, and trailing behind them. I remember seeing a young gentlemen, probably a concierge or a bag boy, chase her off. "" I remember thinking. Fast forward through a sea of cardboard pleas, winos, and street performers and we reached our destination. Pikes Place Market. I remember splitting off from my grandparents and cousin while watching a young gentlemen toss a fish around and do other tricks. After he was finished I clapped, and turned around. My grandparents were nowhere to be found and I was caught in a sea of fish smell, patrons, and the sinking feeling that I was inevitably fucked. I scrambled through the crowd to no avail. The thick smog of bodies clouded my view, and my calls for help went unanswered. After breaking through the crowd I found a back alley. Scared, confused, and hoping for a break from the hustle and bustle I walked through the alley. Torn flyers, waste bins, and other arrangements of junk littered the passage. Then I heard it. The sound that haunts my dreams and my mind when it wanders. Gurgling. A low mumbling gurgle laced with coughs and the unmistakable sound of struggling. It sounded rather odd, but my adventurous 11 year old brain led me to the source. Oh how I wish it didn't. How I wish I would have just sauntered off or turned around. I walked over to a tipped over trashcan, and a dumpster. I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't like the movies. It wasn't slow, but it was silent. Save for the god awful gurgling and struggling. I even remember the picture on what I now assume was a craft beer bottle strewn along with the forgotten waste. There was a rabbit with a shit eating grin on its face giving a thumbs up. Soon after seeing that my eyes led me to the source of the sounds. It was a kneeling yet slumped, convulsing pile. Then she looked up. It was the homeless woman from earlier. I stumbled back and recoiled in fear. "" She must have knocked over the trash can and hurt herself"" I thought. The thought seems innocent now, and I wish it would have been the case. Her tattered black hoodie was caked in what appeared to be vomit and bodily fluids. It was still fresh because I remember the smell overwhelming me. Then I saw it, there was a needle jutting out of her arm. At the time I couldn't comprehend what it was, or why the woman was acting so strange. It's that innocence I wish I could still possess. But no, this woman was overdosing. She was dying. In front of my eyes, this woman was dying and I couldn't do jack shit to save her. I was a kid, and I was afraid. She looked up at me and her lips seemed to try to form words, but nothing happened. Merely shaking and more trembling before she fell and slumped even further on to the grimey alley ground. The look still haunts me, it still causes me to have panic attacks or throw up if I picture it well enough. The best way I can explain it without forcing myself to think too much about it, is milk with a little blue dye in it. That's what her skin looked like. She feebly reached out at my pant leg. I stepped back more, and then she slumped over. I wasn't sure if she was dead, but I nudged her with my foot. She didn't move. She was dead, she had to be. I screamed. I screamed louder than I ever will in my life. I ran after that, probably the fastest I'd ever run too. I ran back the way I came, past the stupid fucking rabbit bottle, past the flyers, past the market area where I was before. I only stopped when I reached the gift shop area. I cried more than I ever will I think. I never cared for my grandparents, let alone any of my relatives, but I was elated to find them browsing the selection of shirts. They were wondering why I was crying. I eluded to the fact that I watched a woman die, and rather just told them I was hysterical because I was lost. I still wish that was the case looking back. I feel, like a part of me died when that woman died. I feel like watching anybody die an untimely and violent death would kill something inside of anybody. Seattle was, and is, a beautiful city with beautiful sights. I am never going back there though. I'm going to leave whatever part of me died there. That's the way it's meant to be."
s_349_414,"I'm so sad. I finished my last year of school and now all of my long time friends (8 of them) have told me to my face they don't want anything to do with me this summer and cut all ties. Unfortunately, I suffer from MDD and decided to cancel upcoming appointments with my Youth Therapist, scheduled during summer, because now that school is finished and exams are done, I presumed I would feel an awful lot less stressed. My girlfiend of eight months turned out to be a cheating sleeze, and after I gave her her *third* chance, I decided even though I'm not much of a human, I deserve more. I'm not too fussed because I know things at this age (18) are only for fun and shit, and I really *really* enjoyed hanging out with her. I'm so, *so* alone. My dad and I don't get along. My upped Prozac dose no longer pulls me out of this isolated sess-pit with a history of botched suicide attempts and self-harm scars. I'm only in my first week of a 4 month summer holiday, with no promise of college (Irish university acceptance depends on a point system based on grades which arent released until September)
I have no-one to make plans with, anything to look forward to. To be honest, no-one to live for, not even myself. I feel so alone. TL;DR I'm depressed and suicidal, with nothing to look forward to"
s_2006_20,"suicidal, but I know it's because I don't know how to feel. I starting using around 13 or 14...and before that had been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, an anxiety disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder. I started getting High to feel numb as repress everything, and I've basicaly conditioned my mind to do so when Im overwhelmed with whatever I'm feeling. I dont know how to just feel sad, because I also feel angry and resentful and depressed and suicidal and anxious and so on. I can't cry, it doesn't come out."
s_258_537,"Havent hung out with anyone since July . An old friend wants to meet up with me later tonight and its just like wtf is the point I dont know how to have fun anymore. I forgot what fun is. I have no life inside of me. I dont care how many cool person points I earn from making somebody laugh. My own fucking laugh isnt even genuine anymore. Nothing is genuine. Nothing even feels like me. Ive been mentally buried from depression and now this person who I havent seen in 3 years wants to hang out with me without realizing Im not even a semblance of the person I used to be?! Like maybe years before, I could be fake and socially serve the interests of others, but now I just dont give a fuck about human connection or contact at all outside from my mom and my husband- I know its pathetic but they were the only people who chose to stay around these 9 years. Anyways, Im going to destroy this old friends night and hes not even ready for it. Idk what to talk about , what to say- I wish I could care but I cant and its pissing me off to know I shouldve canceled sooner."
s_1738_359,I hate everything and everyone too except I blame everyone else. I never blame myself. I guess it's because I am as much of a malignant narcissist as I am a depressed person.
s_1748_871,if that's average I should fucking kill myself
s_697_348,"Im suffering I have gotten to a point where I dont want to kill myself. I just want to feel happiness again, I want to be okay. I dont want to die so miserable. I feel like Im missing so much in my life Im empty. My chest hurts and I cant stop crying. Im not sure how I got so low in life, how did I get to this point. Fuck, I am so miserable. I hate myself."
s_473_481,"Also, for the record, I will also allow you to read this explanation of mine in regards to this (I previously typed it up for another poster here):
I have three goals with an orchiectomy:
1. To achieve ""bullet-proof"" sterilization. Since all non-drastic methods of contraception and sterilization (including vasectomies) can and sometimes do fail, they are just not good enough for me. If my expectations in regards to female hormones will turn out to be accurate, then I would want to use female hormones on a regular or at least on a semi-regular basis. After all, I have heard good things about female hormones from both trans-women and trans-men. However, I must find some way to still be able to get erections using my penis, as well as to still be able to have penis-in-vagina sex, while I am taking female hormones, since otherwise female hormones might not work for me. To better regulate my sex drive and to give my ejaculations and sexual arousal more meaning. In addition to this, though, independently of that, I also want to permanently get rid of as much of my body hair and facial hair as possible due to the fact that this hair makes me dysphoric (and I unfortunately have a lot of it, so yeah). Likewise, I want to feminize my face to some extent as well, though I still want to live as a man (albeit as a very feminine eunuch) most (but not all) of the time after I will get all of this done."
s_2697_1,"(UPDATE) I (25F) can't deal with my disabled mum (59F) anymore. I resent her and feel guilty and horrible and unstable. I wish I would disappear sometimes. How can I escape from this life or come to terms with it? Original: <URL>
I left for now. I didn't realise that my boyfriend - who lives so far away from me - would actually take me in. It never crossed my mind because of the distance and because I didn't want to impose myself on him and his family. I thought that I had no one at all, but apparently his family had offered to take me in a while ago. I told him I was having issues and he said that I can come live with him, his sister and his parents, and he helped me pack and leave. We'll be back later in the week for the rest of my stuff. When he came to see me, he saw how abusive my sisters were becoming when one of them decided to smash my door down and destroy the fifth lock I had to install, because they wouldn't stop breaking them. She started shouting some particularly nasty things at me and also tried to get him to break up with me as she was putting me down. I just had a complete breakdown. He also took me to see a psychiatrist and I was diagnosed with depression and they suspect borderline personality disorder, which is apparently due to my abusive childhood eventually leaving me unable to cope with stress in a productive way. I'm being prescribed mood stabilisers. It's sad when you realise that your family has never loved you. They just said I was running away from my responsibilities and said they'd sell the animals when I'm gone. I'm at least planning to get the rabbits this week. They were the only ones who'd comfort me when I sat downstairs alone at night crying to myself. They'd always come and sit next to me when I was like that. I feel a mix of anger and sadness and I don't really know what to do with myself. I'm struggling to see a future right now, but I plan on just putting together a portfolio and seeing whether or not I can get into an art foundation or games design course with it. I'll also be getting a job when I'm in a better place so that I can start paying rent to this wonderful family who've taken me in, with the hopes of eventually finding my own place. *TL;DR I left that house. I feel very sad knowing that I meant nothing to my family at all.*"
s_1625_548,"As I told my therapist today, if I were diagnosed with cancer tomorrow, I would refuse all treatment (except end-of-life comfort-care). Why would I want to spend another day, year, decade like this? It's exhausting to daily manage depression at low-lwvrl functioning. I can't think about the past bc that was decades of drama. I have no future goals or dreams, not even one plan for next week (beside seeing my therapist again). All I do, over and over each day, is bring myself back to the NOW, where I am, at least, safe, warm, well-fed, comfortable, and in a nice setting. Which I truly am grateful for."
s_2606_508,"No problems at all. I hope that if I can pass on some things that have taken me years to learn about myself, maybe it will give you a different perspective and/or make it easier for you to learn about yourself. It took a while for me to get out of the mindset of being isolated. I am not saying to follow my path but explaining where I came from and how things changed. If I could have changed things earlier I would have had a better life sooner. I've always been a bit different to other people and when I was in high school and university that was really to my detriment. I was very lonely for a very long time and also very depressed. But the hurt that I suffered made me strive for a better life so that I could be independent financially and have more control over my own life. That was my #1 priority. I struggled and worked really hard to do that. I wasn't successful at first, in fact, the opposite, so I worked even harder. Years later, I got there and got the independence I wanted. You'd think by then, being successful, I would be happy right? But by this point I'd gotten into a habit of striving for perfection, and I was not at all happy with myself. I was always thinking I wasn't good enough and putting myself down in my head. Then one day it dawned on me, and I can't tell you when exactly, but it occurred to me that it's okay not to be perfect, and to remind myself that nobody is, and in accepting that I wasn't perfect and that it was okay, I could stop hating myself. And that is when I let other people in, once I could be okay with myself and not always judge myself in a negative way. It was hard at first and people did let me down occasionally but I suppose in the end I learnt my own self-worth and it made me more resilient. I am still closed off a little bit and don't let people in so easily and freely as other people but I feel comfortable at this level of disclosure. :) What I hope you can take away from all of my lessons is that you are a worthy person. People always say ""nobody's perfect"" but it's become a cliche and it's almost a throwaway comment as it doesn't really matter about everyone else, 'cause we're talking about you. You're not perfect, and that's completely okay. You are a valuable person who matters. You can live your life in a way that means something to you. You do need to be careful with your trust but not completely abandon giving trust to people. How do you know who you can trust? You said you had a friend who asked about you? Well think about what's in it for him? It seems to me like probably not much, except that he cares about you and wants to make sure you're okay. If you ask yourself what's in it for the other person it can ease your mind a little bit that they don't have an ulterior motive. If you're not sure, then proceed with caution, until you have time to learn more about them. I know that was long winded but I hope it helps."
s_212_531,"Damn feel like superpowers are gone, zero energy, feel like crap"
s_1551_46,"I probably am hard on myself, but its hard not to be. I feel like I need to blame someone and no matter how I slice it i feel responsible. I hope I can get it fixed before my next birthday in august so I can fast track my life, Im cutting out a lot of bad habits so hopefully itll even out over the years. I care about the longevity of my physical health over everything else, so if I play my cards right now hopefully in 20 years or so Ill still feel young. Thats my dream anyways"
s_1294_455,"Can you imagine that? ""The Last Perfect Day"", and then it gets hotter, the sun gets brighter, and then it becomes insufferably hot, and then all of the organic matter around you starts wilting and dying off, then spontaneous combustion becomes a very real thing, then the world literally catches fire., then the atmosphere is blown off into space, and all of the water on the planet. Plate techtonics break down because the surface is molten, and the planet it turned into a ball of molten rock, and then completly engulfed by the Sun, and vaporised. The only trace of the Earth left would be a slightly higher iron and sulphur and sodium content in the sun. Then the sun collapses, and earth is gone forever, (and venus and mercury). Mars would likely survive as a burnt out husk like mercury is today, and the rest of the planets would be unaffected. I think I would rather just shoot myself."
s_781_86,"The worst Ive felt in the last 10 years. The last few months have been the most depressed Ive felt in the last 10 years. I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I was 15. I am going to be 27 next month. I somehow before managed to (or at least thought I had) worked through my depression and moved on with my life. I guess not. Ive been working a part time job for the last year and a half, barely able to afford rent and have gone up to 4 days to a week after paying bills without eating, waiting to get paid again so I can. I start a new job on Monday at fulltime hours and Ive estimated at making a 50% increase in salary per year. I still feel nothing. Im not happy. Im not excited. Over the last few months Ive stopped talking to most of my friends. Stopped hanging out with them and pretty much just barricade myself in my room on my 4 days off a week and sleep or put something on the TV and eventually fall asleep from boredom. I dont want to go anywhere, I dont want to do anything. Im thinking maybe its the lack of money that is causing me to become depressed again? Ive never thought of myself as materialistic or superficial about money. Maybe its just because I cant afford to feed myself thats causing me to become so depressed. But then again, Ive gotten to the point where I dont even want to eat no matter how hungry I get. A lot of people tend to be stress eaters. I am the type of person to stop eating when Im stressed out or depressed. Ive lost about 20lbs in the last month and a half from not eating. Im pretty sure thats not a good thing. Even with all the positive stuff happening in my life right now, I dont care. I dont want to be here. It doesnt seem worth all the trouble."
s_2139_39,"Depressive Thoughts written down Ah this is agony. Can I be free? Cant I start over Can I go to sleep and never wake up? Cause this world isnt for people like me. I dont fit in. Everyone is doing something else. I just live weirdly. Who even am I? Where am I? I just float around. I put on a smile, and laughter fills the room. But when I am alone sadness creaks through my bones and the smile fades. Guilt and shame grips me. Loneliness and longing fill my heart. Doubts and uncertainties leading to suicidal ideation overcome my mind. I dont want to stay. I want to leave. I hate this."
s_106_89,"Okay, so this is how I feel. I'm a 19 year old guy currently on my gap year (year break before college/university that we do in England). I've been travelling around quite a lot during my year off and I feel like my anxiety/depression is just getting worse. I never have panic attacks like I used to but I constantly just feel anxious. The big thing for me is my health. I am always worried about my health, primarily stds. Last year I did something stupid with a girl I didn't know and i literally convinced myself I had HIV. I went and got tested and I didn't have it which was a huge relief. But then at new year i got blackout drunk on a night out and lost some of my friends. Since then I have been worried that I have it again. For some reason I just feel like my drunk self is a total ass-hole who will completely fuck up my life given the chance. I have no reason to believe i got infected, I'm pretty sure i didn't have sex or anything but I just feel like I did something that made me get a disease. I've told myself that I will get tested again after 3 months but even if I come up negative again I don't think thats going to be the end of the problem. I feel like I always have to have one thing that I'm worrying about. It used to be a brain tumour and then I got scans and after everything came out fine I would switch my anxiety and focus on something else. But there is never a time where I'm just not worried about anything. There is always one thing that I'm fretting over in my mind and it's usually a disease of some sort. I just feel so insane. I feel like nothing good will come of me and i will end up as a tragedy, dying young of a disease with stigma attached to it through my own fault. I've never been to a doc or therapist about my anxiety/hypochondria but I'm starting to think I should. I mean, its nearly been 3 months since new years and I am still constantly worried about having ruined my life over being blackout drunk. That just can't be normal. I feel like I don't like my inner self who is revealed when I get really drunk with friends. I have no self control and I just feel ashamed of myself. The worst part is I didn't used to feel like this. I used to love myself and be proud of things I did, I used to be my friend but I just don't feel that way anymore. I honestly look in the mirror and see someone who I'm afraid and ashamed of when I look into my own eyes. I mean how fucked up is that? Anyway, the reason I feel like I haven't talked to a doctor or therapist is 1: Because I'm always away and 2: Because I don't actually know If I'm having real issues. Some days the anxiety will still be there in my head but I will be distracted, I'll hang out with my friends and feel happy and I don't know if I truly need help or I just occasionally feel ""Sad"" because im a young teenager with hormones in me. But every night I will go to bed and while lying there I will feel scared. Maybe of nothing in particular but just scared and filled with dread. Sorry for the rant I just feel I really need to talk about this. Any responses would mean the world to me."
s_1808_50,"dont know why im depressed, and im so tired of being depressed. that's why I feel like killing myself. whenever I think I try to figure out the reason why I'm depressed, its always something different or something I cant do anything about. or for all I know all of those things are the cause of my depression, and its just too big of a mess to even clean up. maybe its life is just so unfair and there's no explanation behind why things are unfair, and there's no point in anything in life if things are unfair. all the unfair things just get me frustrated and depressed. I can't stop focusing on the unfair things. for all I know the depression is too comfortable and I'm afraid to even leave it, maybe that's why, but I dont know for sure
or maybe its because I'm overweight and I can never achieve my goals of losing weight, I always fuck up every time I try. every time I get frustrated because something unfair happens, I just eat because it feels good, and I feel like I should treat myself in order to male things fair again
I'm just so tired of being depressed and life sucking I kinda just want it to end"
s_1160_103,"Disorganised Attachment looking for advice Hi so I guess I'm just asking for advice here. I'm a high school student who just found out I'm FA yesterday. I thought I was DA but when I actually toon a test and got FA it seemed like everything just makes sense. My problem- which probably every FA face - is I'm lacking intimacy with people. I can't open up, or can't trust, any human being on this world (sounds exaggerated but that's the case?) Everyone that tried to be nice to me looks fake and they probably just want to gain stuff from it. I know this is irrational and I persuaded myself but I still can't get rid of those thoughts. Detailed examples: - my therapist. As I'm diagnosed with depression and anxiety, I take medications and I visit my therapist regularly. It's my third therapist but I still can't trust her. It's her job, and she's just doing it for money. Also, she will tell my condition to my parents if I open up, and I don't want my parents to know more about me. So because of this problem, I haven't been opening up anything about relationships to my therapist and psychiatrist. - friendships. I CRAVE for friends. But none of them gives me unconditional love. I know, it's in order to fulfill my need from childhood and to make them act as my parents bla bla but I don't know what to do with it. I can't trust them, I feel like their kindness is all fake. Although that..I really feel like I need someone I can trust behind my back. It feels really lonely and isolating being cautious towards everyone. - parents No I don't want intimacy with them. It feels strange to be close to them. My dad is problematic. My mom is nice but i still don't want to get close to her. They only are my source of money and shelter right now and I will get out of the house asap. After that, I might not even contact them anymore. Being FA makes me feel like I did something wrong. Especially when on the Internet so many people are blaming FA for causing issues. I always feel like I'm not doing good enough and it's really frustrating cuz I actually am trying. I guess I'm just hoping someone will reply for now:/ Also, sorry for my weird grammar and poor vocabulary."
s_1609_626,"I'm Sad Today... Nothing went wrong... I don't know, I just feel bad. My heart is kind of sunk, and I don't know why. Depression just sucks. It's always looming in the distance, but it wasn't too far away today. I'm normally not to stuck in my depression, or at least haven't been too sick for the past few years, but today, I feel bad. This is a lame post, I know. I just needed someone to talk to."
s_1234_37,"NSV: The last time I ate anything that contains sugar is 500 days ago. I've stopped eating literally everything that contains sugar, including fruits. I get my vitamins minerals primarily from vegetables now. I know it's drastic and not necessarily needed for weight loss, but when I was eating sugar I felt like a slave of my own cravings, and I was miserable, feeling like my life depended on the satisfaction I would expect from those small windows of time where I was allowed to 'cheat', but they would never live up to my expectations and would always leave me frustrated. It felt like I was caught in a vicious loop. For me, it's a huge accomplishment. My diet is mostly made up of lean meat (fish, chicken, seafood), oatmeal, walnuts, eggs, and dried beans and green vegetables (asparagus, spinach, lettuce, avocados, etc). And I feel much better. I can eat whatever I see as optimal for my health, because my sense of reward is not dependent on my dietary choices. I started my weight loss journey years before cutting sugar out completely, but I credit this drastic change for helping me go from 17-18% body fat to below 10% which is where I am and which was my end goal right from the start. Obviously my body fat %age still goes up once in a while when I'm intentionally eating at a surplus in order to increase muscle mass, but overall this 500 day period feels like a huge milestone and I'm really happy."
s_885_196,"Well I found the key way to get your sleep back up is to stick to a rigid bedtime and wakeup routine. I kept getting irregular hours and was staying in bed even when it was time to get up (about less than 5 to less than 7 hours before). Do things like turn off your phone 30 minutes before bed (or at least try not to look at it), read a book before bed for like 5-10 minutes, try meditation, the 4-7-8 breathing technique or count back by 3 from 300. I was able to stick to this and it was incredibly helpful."
s_1271_760,"I have pure-O ocd, which is a type without the cleaning, check rituals familiar to most people when they think of ocd. Those are symptoms, the illness is repetitive, obsessive fearful thoughts that you know are irrational but you can't switch off. I have a mixture of harm ocd and religious ocd, which means I obsess over violent and blasphemous thoughts. I don't desire these thoughts, they repulse me, but the more you fight the more persistent they become. I've learned a lot of techniques for managing the anxiety from Buddhism and have been on some meditation retreats which were very healing. I have an addictive personality, driven by a desire to escape the suffering in my mind, so have had problems with drugs and alcohol in the past. I'm now very clean living, eat right, exercise, pray, meditate, write, take meds all to try and get better. And I have gotten a lot better, thank God, but it's still hard sometimes. I've just got to keep doing the right things and have faith it's all going to work out for the best. Keep on keeping on, man."
s_888_1875,"I struggle to concentrate and have a low attention span. Tips and Tricks? Hey guys this is a short post because of the problem, I have a really low attention span I struggle to wrok for long periods of time, i have to break up TV Shows and Movies into 10 minute intervals (not all the time) and I cant play video games for more than half an hour."
s_996_410,Art therapy helped me get through my childhood and has made a difference in my life as an adult. So I have a reason to hope for the best when working with people in the future.
s_2409_26,"I'm not someone who quits I have been doing Actives C25k program and am now on week 7. For about ten days now I have been telling myself that I don't have time for running. Or maybe I'm a little sick. Or that I deserve to take it easy right now since I have a lot at work. No training for ten days and no food logging for the first five of those. This is usually the beginning of the end for me. I start skipping some workouts and soon I just tell myself that it didn't work this time either. That I'm destined to always fail. Why even bother? This time I just said no. No, I'm not quitting. So I had some bad days? I am not someone who quits. I went out today and did w7d2 and told myself the entire run that this is not me starting over, this is me just continuing. This is what I do now. It's not some temporary thing that I can quit whenever I feel like it. Because I'm not someone who quits. If I need a few days of for whatever reasons that is okay. But that is not me quitting. I promise myself that I will always continue as long as my body is capable. I'm no longer someone who quits."
s_655_6,"I just realized my pay was wrong for most of 2018, what can I do? Ok, I live in Columbia, South Carolina. I work for a nursing agency that places me at different facilities to work. But for the last two years I've worked at one place exclusively. The company that owns the facility I'm currently working at owns many facilities. Last year they renegotiated their contract with my agency which caused me to receive a $5 an hour pay raise. Shortly after that I started to get cancelled a lot. The facility that I was working at said the pay raise made me non competitive with other agencies in the area (they could get a different nurse for less). My agency has always been great. They did not want me to have to give back a 5 dollar raise so the agreement was that THEY would go back to the original rate for billing. But that I would only be giving back 2 dollars per hour and that I would keep 3. I made a huge mistake here, I know the mistake and can't go back and not make it. But I never went to our paychex site to verify the rate of pay. The site is not associated with our regular site and my checks always seemed right. It was stupid and I can't believe I did that but last week a computer error shorted me one of my days. They paid me for that day with this weeks check, but it still didn't seem right. So I had to call my agency to get my login info for paychex to go in and verify it. And when I went to check to see if I got paid for the day I was missing I realized something much worse. My pay rate was off by 2 dollars. As soon as I saw it I already knew but I started going through and sure enough I've been paid 2 dollars an hour less than what my rate is supposed to be since 2.16.18. EDIT 1: I just totalled up the hours and I was shorted 2 dollars for 1890 hrs. Which means I'm owed 3780 minus taxes. I contacted my agency and notified my branch manager and she did agree that the rate was wrong and she said that they would fix it. But how likely are they to backpay for all of those hours? It's so embarrassing to realize this big of a mistake. EDIT 2: Ok, now I have a problem. I just spoke with a person at the corporate office who is also the person that notified me when I was going to have my pay reduced by 2 dollars (after the 5 dollar raise). They say that a week later they called me again and notified me that they misquoted the rate to me and that it was a 4 dollar reduction. I 100% DO NOT REMEMBER ANY SUCH CALL. And I am very sure that I would remember something like that. But seeing as I'm stupid and didn't bother to check the paystubs and since her documentation shows otherwise I can't see how I'd get this corrected. I'm so depressed. I know I'm getting screwed here and there isn't a thing I can do. I told her that i want the pay increased by 2 dollars effective today or I'm going to leave the company. I'm waiting to hear back on that. Bummer for me I guess."
s_592_276,I am just tired at this point.
s_2340_50,Im going to kill myself.
s_993_565,Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. Albert Camus So relatable. I always remember X-Men scene where Magneto asks Mystique to be in her original form. Wearing a mask takes a lot out of you. Some days I feel so exhausted and empty.
s_3002_223,"I don't enjoy the indoors anymore, but I used to, now it's just about who has the most slabs and the most wrenches, it's not about tunnels anymore. Tunnels are pointless anymore"
s_2035_838,"50s is NOT old! Im 50 and my husband is 51. He has slowed down some but his job is just a difficult schedule (hes on the road 4-1/2 days a week) and weve both gotten a little out of shape and were working on that. We always at least have sex once a week but thats mostly due to him not being home so many days then having things that have to get done on his days off. Otherwise I can see 2-3x/week happening. I dont see why he says 50s is too old. Its definitely not lowering my libido, quite the opposite."
s_1625_740,"I hope you can learn a few ways to manage things. Everything is so overwhelming when depressed. At one point, all I managed each day was to keep my kitchen sink clean. Weekly, I showered before therapy, went to therapy, and bought groceries on the way back from therapy. That lasted about 2 years. It was so deep and swampy just to live. I didn't want to but I committed to life, not killing myself. I'll die soon enough anyway. Eithet way, in 75 years no one will know/remember me."
s_1404_958,"I suffer because of the fact that no matter how hard I try to enjoy anything, I can't enjoy anything in life. Whether I play a videogame or take a walk in nature or eat my favorite food. I can't enjoy it. The only thing I can feel is pain."
s_342_338,I already don't eat a lot as is. Seems a bit odd to buy paint cans just for weight lifting
s_1404_1139,"Bad health has ruined my life I dont know what to do anymore? My physical and mental health are BOTH ruined. I sleep about 12 hours per night and I'm STILL exhausted during the day. The whole day I feel like I haven't slept and wanna go back to bed. My depression also sucks because its impossible to enjoy life or to be happy with anything. DON'T tell me to get therapy and see a doctor. I had therapy for years and the only wisdom I gained from that is that therapy is a big waste of time for me. It never helped me. Not even the slightest bit. I have also been seeing a doctor way too many times for my physical health issues and they can never find why I'm so extremely tired. Before this shit started, I was very motivated, I had plans to start and grow a large company and change the world. Now im completely failing university thining about my future, maybe its not realistic anymore to have a good career. My physical and mental health issues make EVERYTHING impossible for me. I have absolutely no energy to ever do anythink productive. I can't get my homework done, I can't put any effort in finding my future girlfriend, I can't put any effort in maintaining my friendships, the only things i'm capable of doing are sleeping, eating, watching youtube, chatting a little and being on reddit. It's completely impossible to focus on anything else. It's been like this for years now so no it won't get better. DO NOT tell me to get therapy. I had it for 3 years and im pretty sure I will not get therapy no matter what you try to convince me. It doesnt help me. My depression can't be cured okay? Maybe if some miracle happens and my life gets better again but thats not done with endless therapist conversations. Do not gie me medical advice I have been going to doctors and trying healthy lifestyles for years and i'm still always tired without knowing the cause. Bad physical and mental health have made it impossible for me to live my life. I cannot enjoy life and I also cannot make progress towards my future. That means im worthless. I lost all hope for my future. Is it even possible to enjoy life and chase my future dreams in this situation? I dont think so. Im not capable of anything anymore. And no my depression won't go away until something good comes into my life. I dont know what to do anymore. The only way out of this miserable situation seems to be suicide. I won't do it. But I have no hope. What can I do???"
s_664_102,"Thank you for taking the time to respond like this. I don't want to be sad and angry every year but it's hard not to think of it and mourn for the mother and the life I wish I had. I'm also severely depressed, so the sad and angry parts go back to my ""rut"" thinking. I am extremely appreciative for my bf. I don't think he will ever realize what that small gesture meant to me. If he hadn't everything would have been shit. It's extremely symbolic of the role he plays in the rest of my life, as well."
s_1194_64,im so sick and tired of hating myself as the title says im exhausted.. i constantly compare myself to those better than me and i constantly tell myself thatll i never be enough its like engraved in my brain and my mindset will never change.. i feel like im going to have to live like this for the rest of my life i hate my life
s_701_803,"I feel hopeless... A prisoner of my mind. I don't really know where to start, but I'll try anyway. I was diagnosed with Psychosis NOS about a year and a few months ago, then it progressed into a diagnosis of basically schizophrenia, to put it bluntly. With schizophrenia we have 2 blocks of symptoms, negative and positive. Negative is basically, lack of emotion, extreme lack of motivation, poor hygiene, disorganization (which Is pretty strong for me, stronger than the other negative symptoms) etc. Positive symptoms are just basically psychosis. Anyway, because of this, I had do drop out of school, as directed by my doctors. I lost most of my friends, except one and he has always been my best friend, but he's just came back into the picture (which is great btw, when you've been in extreme isolation for a year that shit will touch your heart more than anything). Being in extreme isolation and barely getting sunlight other than the sun rays coming through my window, is extremely depressing especially when you're not in an episode and have to reflect on how this has affecting your life...
I've just started getting tutoring back in my school, once a week... I don't see the point in going back to school any more, I'm already behind everyone, people think I'm stupid because I don't go to school (even though I've learned a lot of stuff on my own in the past year). Schizophrenia (with depression, but depression hasn't been diagnosed, it's probably depression because of the schizophrenia). I feel absolutely hopeless, it's like I can't get something inside my head out... I just want to be normal again, but there's always something inside my mind stopping me. I used to think I would have a good career, have a good life etc... That's all completely ruined now. I'll answer any question to clarify anything... Thank you."
s_3040_683,"I failed two classes this semester. I've been too sad to go to class, so the ones that take attendance failed me. They were both major classes. I drink too much. I know I do, and I know it's a problem. But drunk is pretty much the only time I don't feel miserable. I graduated high school 6th in my class. My gpa was 3.86. I was depressed, but it came so easily to me. Now, after my third year of college, I'll be lucky to have a 2.3. I just haven't cared all semester, and now I feel like a complete failure. I'm afraid to see my family. My sister is about to get her Ph.D. from one of the best schools in the country. My dad has one in physics, and recently got sober. I can't even work up the energy to cry. I'm broke, so I can't even buy booze to make myself feel better. Even my cats don't make me feel any better about myself. I've gained a bunch of weight, I haven't showered in a week, and I never see any friends. I still have two more finals and I don't care, but I know I need to step it up if I want to not fail all of my classes. It's getting time where I have to start worrying about getting jobs. I'm gonna have to take a victory lap, which my parents are fine with, but I may even need two. I'm going part time next semester, for sure, but I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. I've always dreamed of working in the government, but I'm so far from the cream of the crop that I'm that rejected corn that gives livestock mad cow. I had to drop my French major, which means my fallback of becoming a French teacher isn't even a possibility anymore. I've wanted to do the Peace Corps for forever, but I doubt I can bring my cats with me to Africa, and I doubt even more that I can go two years without them. On top of that, they wouldn't accept me with my grades. Tl;dr: I failed my first two classes ever this semester, I feel like a failure, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. All I wanna do is cry, and I can't even do that."
s_2953_760,"OP is dying Mood spoiler: gt;!Tragic! lt; Trigger warning: gt;!Death, pregnancy, terminal illness, cancer! lt; **Posted 7 years ago** [ORIGINAL](<URL>) **I'm dying.** And, needless to say, I'm scared shitless. I remember being 8 and thinking I'd never be able to die. Now all I've been able to think of for 6 months is dying, how that day is coming soon, and how I want to die in my sleep. I have a bucket list of things that will never benefit me. One of those things is doable, I think. I want to have my baby boy, who is due next month. But what happens when I'm supposed to die within the next 3-4 months? I just leave him with my fiance? I want to get married... but I don't know if I'll be able to do that anymore. What am I supposed to do with the body in which I live? Where am I going when I die? Where am I going to die? These are questions that go through my head constantly, every single day of my fucking pitiful life. I don't want to die at the age of 21. I honestly which I could afford to be preserved through cryonics and live life again one day... but I don't want to go through the pain of dying. I don't know what's waiting for me on the other end. Just... fuck. Fuck cancer. Fuck my life. Fuck everything (except Reddit - Reddit's been my anchor ever since I was diagnosed). I shall now go wallow in self-pity for the rest of the night and wish I was never born or someone would shoot me while I was unsuspecting. EDIT: I don't know why I made this post. If you guys want to, you can ask me absolutely anything you want about my situation, and if you have any... I don't know... 'advice'... I'll listen. [UPDATE](<URL>) Some of you may or may not remember this. [ <URL>](<URL>) Im here to give you an update on that. I am the wife of the poster of that thread (and owner of this account) and he told me to update you on his current status. James (my husband...lol) is currently hospitalized. his Life is on its last legs and with every breath he takes he is drawn closer to his Last. its took me a few days to work up the strength to even write this. He told me he feels beautifully content and at peace and wants to get his passing over and done with just dissapointed he isn't going to be able to meet his son. i can only wish I was able to be so at peace with him leaving me... just looking at him so helpless, looking like death itself hurts me so much. I dont want him to go... that was the update, for now. any advice you guys can give us both is much appreciated and if you want to hear updates on his condition please tell me :) Edit on 1st March 2015: James passed away on the 17th February while sleeping at around 2:30AM GMT. His baby is due to be born any day now. thank you all for the kind words you have given the both of us throughout this difficult time in both of our lives reddit. **Personal note:** For me it's just so surreal that the people involved in this were real people. It makes me extremely sad and pent up with grief. OOP passed 7 years ago. He never got to live the rest of his life with his family. He never got to meet his son. These kind of stories just help me learn to cherish everything in life. The fact that this was posted 7 years ago gives me a very nostalgic feeling. I keep imagining OOP's widow and child flourishing and being happy in life. His widow must be in her mid-late 20s and their son must be 6 now. I just hope his son knows everything there is to know about his father and that James' widow and son cherish and are happy. Everybody please use a free award on the original post, perhaps we can get the widow's attention and find out about her life now. I'm sure it would also be glad that people are thinking about her husband 7 years later. The update didn't get a lot of responses as well. ** R.I.P James**"
s_1404_172,I feel guilty I tried to save someone from suicide and I honesly saw a good future for him. He stopped answering and his profile says 'deleted'. I think I failed.
s_1155_89,"I work in customer service, so dealing with the public every day, we're expected to always be polite, courteous, and professional. If you haven't done customer service, then I can assure you - remaining polite, courteous, and professional while someone's literally screaming at you is... difficult. But I do it, because I need the damn job (for now). But being unable to express myself the way I would like to in those situations means I have to choke it down. Some days, when I get home, I find myself in the same situation - just wanting to cry. And sometimes, I do. And sometimes, it helps. But as for the emotions and thoughts that I'm actually suppressing, I do find it helpful to find someone I can trust and talk to."
s_1330_18,"Don't know if this is linked to AP, but it's weird all the same. Anyone experience anything similar? Recently I've been going to bed quite late and almost at the point of dropping into sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. I haven't had an OOBE (as far as I know) yet and I'm on the road towards it. However I find the feelings in my body that I get when I'm attempting an OOBE quite strange, interesting and relaxing. Because of this I occasionally do a half-arsed attempt just so I can feel the strange sensations and experience them out of intrigue before I fall asleep. On a side note I usually do this when I'm very tired as it seems to happen very rapidly when I am; sometimes without me even trying to recreate them. Anyway for a few nights now, maybe three, I've witnessed a very strange phenomenon, for me at least. I would be lying in bed facing my fully open windows right next to me. It would be starting to get light outside and I can easily make out plants and objects in my garden. I would shut my eyes to drift off but then after a few moments of darkness an extremely clear image of exactly what is in front of my closed eyes would appear. It's as if I opened my eyes while keeping them closed and I could see extremely well. I mean it isn't like remembering what somewhere looked like in your head, it was clear as if I was actually looking at it, if not clearer. Once this happened a few times one night I consciously tried to prevent it from fading away as it did when i started paying attention to it. Alas I couldn't keep it there much longer than usual so passed up trying in the end. I haven't heard of this before and I won't be surprised if no one knows what on earth I'm talking about. It is interesting nonetheless and thought I'd share as it would hopefully at least be an interesting read."
s_2584_34,"that same voice keeps me alive. i honestly don't even know why it is still there. i wrote out a long entry detailing the steps i needed to take to end my life on this account about 21 hours ago, titled ""no connection to anyone. suicide is my only answer."" i keep writing out i want to die. i wrote an entry titled ""it doesn't get better"" about 21 hours ago. this shit is fucking real. the short moments in time that are worth living for are so rare, it hurts. i've been through 20+ years of therapy and prescription drugs just to deal with everything. i keep wanting to type, ""hang in there."" but man, i can barely even say it to myself. hang in there. :)"
s_1404_90,"why do so many things fail in my life. why am i bad at almost everything in life? I have no social skills. I know how to make friends but I end up getting betrayed and hurt every time again. I hate being single but I decided to stop wasting my time on swiping apps. I have no energy to study. I dont enjoy anything in life because im depressed Im getting fat and my health is getting worse. My health is so bad. I cant take care of myself. I dont have energy to get up to make food, to brush my teeth, take a shower. I cant take care of myself anymore. Many people hate me I get death threats, people try to hack me, people tell me to kill myself Life is too much stressful. I cant do this."
s_2082_7,"I need help. I just feel like I don't want to exist. Not suicidal, just like I don't want to be anymore. I want to be numb, to not feel anything. But I also don't want that, because then that would still be existing. I don't know what to do or think, or feel. I need a lot of help right now, and I feel like I can't turn to the one person I used to be able to turn to, because I don't feel like she would actually care. But I know she would, and that she would do anything to help me. I just can't bring myself to talk to her about it."
s_1404_675,"Since I stopped enjoying activities, the urge to do them is stronger and I rather get addicted now despite not enjoying it at all. When I enjoyed playing videogames, I wasn't too addicted to it. Same for watching youtube and chatting with friends. I enjoyed, but didn't feel a strong need to do it, I could easily study for hours. But now that I'm depressed and I don't enjoy these activities anymore, my urge to do these activities is alot stronger and because of that, they distract me from studying and I'm unable to study enough. Why does this happen? And is this normal?"
s_2706_97,"Keto thus far I've been doing keto for about 3 weeks now. I think I've lost 2lbs. I'm working out (lifting) a little as well, so maybe that's why I'm not losing. My husband says my stomach looks smaller(pics). I'm currently deployed, so keto is actually pretty easy with the limited choices. I've stopped tracking my food, since I'm typically eating the same things everyday. I find that I'm not hungry nearly as often as i used to be. I also find that when I do eat, it makes me kind of nauseous. It quickly goes away, but it's odd. I am coming concerned that I'm not eating enough. When I last tracked my food, it had me at only 900cals. I should be eating 1200 to lose. My issue is that I'm just not hungry! I've also noticed that when I have to pee, there isn't much warning, I just realize ""shit, I need to pee"". I definitely have the keto pee stank. It's harder and harder for me to stay hydrated. Keto also managed to start my period. Which totally sucks, because I'm on BC and just had my period a week and a half ago. Overall, I feel alright, a little discouraged due to almost no weight loss, not even the large amount of water weight most people lose. I plan to stick with it a little longer, but shit, I want a waffle."
s_1271_735,"I find to accept the emotions and try not to let them inspire thoughts in you is how I deal with it now. If a triggering thoughts comes, acknowledge as a triggering thought, choose to give it no more attention and put your awareness on your breathing. I find counting my breaths helps me concentrate for longer and breaks the cycle. Stay strong!"
s_186_206,"If you said you snore, I'd say probably yes. But there are other types of sleep disorders that I am not as familiar with. Central apnea being one. My brother has it, he breathes like he's whining at times without the machine and he often refuses to use it. I have sleep apnea and I'll sleep 10-12 hours sometimes....some people just need more sleep. You also don't say how old you are. If you're potentially still growing, late teens or early 20s you might sleep more. Or if you're in a place where you have potentially allergies going on, you'll sleep more since it's like being sick with your body reacting to the allergens all day long."
s_2408_57,"One of the two episodes of self-harming that I have had occurred when I was going to the gym every day. Now I don't have the energy for that any more. I have also taken omega-3 with no discernible effects. Nevertheless I think yours is excellent advice, it just didn't work for me."
s_1551_393,"Been a whole month now as of today, still consistently failing to do my rehab program. Thinking about resorting to seeking medication from my doctor I have no motivation and I just feel negative about myself all the time, just about everything feels pointless and I have these doubts. I feel like I just need a kick, to get me into that go getter mentality, at least until my injuries are mended. Ive heard medication could help, but Im currently taking accutane for acne, is it still worth a try?"
s_258_585,"Youre not alone . Im 27 and havent had any friends in 8 years. I have had an amazing boyfriend who became my husband but asides from him I have no one and dont worry, casual sex culture often makes me ashamed of being in a long term relationship too like for many my age, a long term relationship is a waste of time. I feel like I wasted my twenties not making enough memories ; I constantly compare my life to everyone elses and it hurts knowing mine has been an abyss but idk, I have hopeless hope that my life wont be like this forever."
s_3028_530,"I lost my ability to cry. I haven't cried in almost six years. Sometimes, I wish I could but I physically cannot; I guess this is the other side of the coin."
s_2816_0,"I'm so tired of being a failure I'm 9 months into my PhD, and while I love(d?) my topic, my advisor is kind, my peers are lovely, the work is (should be?) engaging... I just lack all motivation completely. For the past year I've been on a slow decline of motivation and caring. I stopped engaging in society activities at my undergrad uni, even though I was leader of a society there -- I barely managed enough to keep things ticking over. Through desperation and sheer will I still finished my last year with good grades, enough to be accepted into an amazing grad school, but it was a significant dip on previous years. But then over the course of my PhD it's just been getting worse. It started with a few days of missed work, here and there. I don't think my living situation at the time helped -- just renting a room in a house, with a live-in landlady who was actually horrible (even though she seemed nice enough at first). So I'd just shut myself away in my room all day, slink out to make food (lol, reheat in microwave) when no one was home. Honestly, I think it accelerated the downward spiral a lot, as it brought back a lot of bad memories of my abusive upbringing -- of not feeling like I belonged in my own home, being judged for every action, just hiding in a quiet corner of refuge (yet still worrying someone would barge in any minute). I'm in my own place now, but things are still bad. I think covid isn't helping -- since March I've done maybe a few weeks of worthwhile work, but there have been weeks on end that I have done \*nothing\*. I've told my advisors and they're nice about it and all but I have a first year progress update coming up in 2 weeks that I've barely started and I go entire days just staring at a computer doing fucking nothing. I go days without brushing my teeth, without showering. Sometimes all I'll eat in a day is bowls of cereal. I walk a lot and that used to clear my head but now I'll just walk outside for hours with no sense of direction or track of time. I feel like I'm not in control of my life at all anymore and I just can't deal with the constant guilt about the opportunities I'm wasting. I spoke to my tutor recently and he put me in touch with the uni mental health advisor. We spoke on the phone for about an hour, and she was helpful, and listened to my problems. But then her next phone call was basically just ""register for uni counselling and / or talk to your GP about going on antidepressants"" without any guidance on doing either of those things. I'm an international student and haven't registered with a GP in this country yet, because I need my medical records to do so -- medical records which I've tried to obtain before but can't work out at all because my country's health records are all decentralised, so I'd need to know who my childhood GP(s) was / were, but I aged out of foster care and don't speak to my bio parents anymore. I'm sure there must be someone who would know how to get them for me, or how to register with the GP without them, but it just feels like an insurmountable task. I'm such a failure that I can't even register for counseling properly and that just crushes me. I don't even know if what I'm experiencing right now is just some weird fucked up complex grief because my estranged brother died 18 months ago and my childhood best friend died back in February, or if this is just who I am now and my brain is actually broken. I don't know. I used to be such a high achiever, such a hard worker, used to shit out 12 hours of work straight no problem. I just want to go back to that. I want things to be how they used to be. I know that's a lot of stream of consciousness, but given the whole too-fucking-stupid-to-register-for-counseling thing I just had to vent somewhere."
s_485_1069,"Idk man i feel the same but instead of sadness i just feel nothing, just numb and when i do feel something its mostly negative. Ive started to just reduce all my emotions down to weather it was a positive or negative experience since my mood changes so frequently. The positives are few and far but i get them damn it feels good. So to start what are things that are causing your sadness or negative emotion? What gives you positive? What ever causes positive, follow it and try revolve your life around that emotion and chasing that. I love nothing more than smoking some good bud and sitting on the couch with my wife and kids playing games and shit. So i revolve my life around doing just that. If that means working a few shitty hours a day then its worth it to me. But i didnt get here overnight, it took me along time to figure out what i need in life to chase after and once i learned a few hard facts in life and recalibrated where i set the bar ive been happier."
s_1404_827,Always thought im a tough guy but im breaking. I cant take it anymore. I want to die
s_1404_331,Had 3 years therapy and 3 different medications. Didnt help against my anhedonia. I dont know what to do anymore. I feel so numb. I see the same colors as in the past but they dont look beautiful anymore. I hear the same sounds but they don't sound good anymore. I smell the same scents but they don't smell good anymore. I eat the same favorite food but I don't enjoy eating it anymore. I go out in nature but it's boring now. I'm unable to enjoy anything in life. Despire my therapy and medications I never felt better. I dont know what to do anymore. Can my anhedonia ever be cured? And how long will it take at maximum? What even caused my anhedonia to begin with?
s_186_154,"I can relate, Im 36 years old. Although I will add one big factor of it is feeling alone/lonely. People really don't want to hear about your shit, or you perceive they don't want to hear about your shit. If the off chance you do find someone to kind of unload on, and it feels better, they will start feeling the same way too and then either have to get away from you or end up like you. Then you drop to an even lower level of ""why the fuck bother""ness. Told my parents about my feelings less than a handful of times and I could tell they didn't get it or thought even less of me for it. So I don't do that anymore. I really can't say that I believe my therapist understands that deep self loathing, apathy, and loneliness that comes along with everything else. My best description of mine would be that the universe/fate/god/whatever will make anything I attempt to do fail or turn out worse for me. As has historically been the case. So why would I want to tempt that ""force"" and try to be ""better"" when I know Im just going to end up worse off. I'm really tempted to put a ""deadline"" on my life, get fixed or get dead by age X. I told myself for years and years I would die/kill myself by 35. Here I am 36 and any little bit of happiness I have ends up leaving or being taken away. The whole ""behaviorism"" aspect of psychology is ....... really the wrong way to approach people who have similar thinking to me. Because I am an convinced that my behavior is in defense of my life being even worse and that's the only thing that can come of trying. And behaviorism tries to teach you that your behavior is not working, so you should change type...basically. It's just complete opposite IMO, you're basically trying to convince an atheist to become religious or vice versa with words."
s_2460_1064,"Give me all of your favourite NSVs! Post away guys, I want to hear all of your favourite NSVs, I know everyone has several that shocked them. I know I'm only just starting my journey, but I've noticed several things. I'm not sweating as bad during the day during normal activities, I have energy I've not had in years and I've not slept this fully in the longest of times (may have had sleep apnea)"
s_426_581,"[Long Story] My life of abuse in the foster care system with multi-revenge **Background** The story I want to tell you is full of sadness and heartache. I started out life in poverty living with my parents in a house that had some wooden floors and mostly dirt floors. My mother has a long list of mental issues and my father was an alcoholic and thankfully not the abusive type. Me and my sister were taken from our home when I was 7 and she was 4. We got placed into the foster care system in Kentucky. I'm not going to use real names, but I will use the initials of their names. It's my understanding at the time foster parents in Kentucky could have up to four kids per room and they didn't have a limit of how many a single foster parent could keep. Linda's home was a longhouse with six bedrooms and she was keeping at least eight kids at a time. In the foster care system it's not uncommon to see a child stay with us just for a week and then be released back to the family, so we had different kids come and go all the time. **The Foster Family** The foster home we went to was ran by a woman we'll call Linda and she was a widow. Her husband had passed away in the 80s. She had 4x sons and 1x daughter. Her youngest son we'll call Jay was still living with her because he had fallen from a truck when he was a kid and damaged his skull. This caused him to have a learning disability and he couldn't read or write and at the time of me living with them he was about 26 years old. Her other son Chase was the oldest and he was a plumber. Another son is Dean and he owned five large farms and ran a grocery store. The fourth son was Cody and he died in the 80s from being shot. Her only daughter was Sandy and she was very kind to us. **The Beginning** When we entered the foster care system it was a really scary time for us and I'll never forget the screams of our parents as they ripped us from our home. Because we didn't have running water and electricity the old barn converted into a house wasn't suitable for children according to our social worker. When I first arrived I had broken my wrist and had my arm in a cast. The first thing we did was go shopping for clothes as I didn't bring any with me. When we return from shopping I put my things away and was then given a trash bag and told to go outside and not come back in until all of the loose trash was picked up. Just to let you know now, this was more of a work camp instead of a loving and caring home. While I was picking up trash Jay was in the swimming pool they had beside the home. He yelled for me to come to him and he asked me if I wanted to swim. I told him I didn't know how to swim and I can't because of my obvious broken arm. He then grabbed me and tossed me into the pool and I screamed for help. I really felt like I was going to die that day. He took his time but jumped in and pulled me out. He told me to stop crying as if I would have drowned no one would have cared because I didn't matter. I remember his words like it was yesterday. When I finally got to bed that night I couldn't sleep and I cried the whole night missing my parents. Little did I know this was just the beginning of a hard 12 years of life to come. **Big Ben, Sexual Abuse and My First Revenge** When I first arrived I was told by Linda that another boy will be sharing my room with me and he was away at camp for the week. I arrived at her house when school was out for the summer. His real name wasn't Ben at all and we'll call him Ben. Ben had been in the home for a while and he was about to turn 18 and when you turn 18 the foster care system lets you go as you're an adult now. When he returned from camp he was a very large guy, and I'm guessing about 6'2 and 230+ pounds. When I first met him things seemed to be fine, but it was the first night of him being back that he tried to molest me. I have a hard time sleeping as it is because everyday I wanted to leave and be back with my parents. He got up from his bed that's on the other side of the room and then got into mine. He tried to force his penis into my mouth. He held my nose shut so that I couldn't breath and I had no choice but to open my mouth. As he did this I did bite him as it was the only thing I could think to do. He jumped off of me and smacked me so hard it knocked me out as I don't remember anything else. The next morning when I got up with my face hurting and my mouth busted I ran to tell Linda what he did to me. She took me into her bedroom to talk about it and I told her everything. When she confronted him about it he said I was trying to steal his money and he smacked me for it. I told her that's not true and he checked his wallet for his money and couldn't find it. He asked me for his money back and Linda searched my pockets. She pulled out $20 and she knew I had no money, she told me I was going to be punished and made me scrub the front porch. Ben had put his money in my pocket after he knocked me out and I have no idea what else might have happened to me during that time. That night I cried and was sitting by the bedroom door in fear of being hurt again. I did this for a few nights and didn't get any sleep hardly. I was falling asleep outside doing work and getting in trouble for it. One day I'm in my room playing with hot wheels another foster kid let me have. Ben walks in and closes the door and I just start screaming. He quickly jumps on me and covers my mouth and Linda is outside doing something and doesn't hear me. He tells me if I scream again he's going to smack me again and I'm only 7 with a broken arm, I really can't do anything. He spits into my mouth and makes me swallow it while he lays on top of me. I don't know what else would have happened to me because Linda came back inside and called for him to do something. This time I didn't lay and cry at all, I just laid in place thinking about what to do. I decide I'm not going to let him keep hurting me so I go to the kitchen and sneak a fillet knife into my room and I put it under my pillow. That night he get's up and jumps into my bed. He told me to remember what will happen if I scream or resist. I tell him I understand. I slip the knife from under the pillow and hid it under the covers. He then pushes me down to his penis again and that's when I let him have it. I slashed and cut him as many times as I could. He quickly disarms me and runs out of the room into the bathroom. I run to wake up Linda and I told her what happened and she called 911. She told me not to say a word to the cops about what happened and to go back to bed. Ben and Linda told the cops he had been sleep walking and he didn't mean to cut himself. She told me if I come out of my room and say anything the cops, they wouldn't believe me because I'm a lair. After this happened Ben never came back and I don't know what happened to him but I knew I wasn't going to ever let anyone do that to me again. A really shitty thing Linda did to me was force me to wash the bed and the carpet of all the blood from Ben. I had to scrub the bedroom, kitchen and bathroom as punishment. **Verbal Abuse, Slave Work and Sexual Abuse to Girls** Being told that you were worthless; didn't matter to anyone; you'll never be anything; was commonly said from Jay and Linda as they used that to demoralize the kids. They treated all of the foster kids this way and would tell us we are lucky to be living with them as this is the only way we wouldn't be in jail or dead. They told us if we ever left we would end up in and out of jail because we are just as worthless as our parents. Anytime any of the kids wanted to do any after school event or even play sports they would tell them they don't matter or will never be anything so why waste the time now. I was also threatened to be put into a boys home away from my sister if I ever told anyone about how Linda treated us. At a young age you don't know any better sadly and you're to scared to think otherwise. All of the boys worked the farms of Dean and we didn't get to bed until about 11PM. We got up every morning at 4AM to do farm work with feeding cows, chickens and pigs. After we finished our work in the morning we had to quickly scramble to get cleaned up for school as the bus arrived at 6:20ish AM every day. You never had time to do any school work after you got home because you had to eat and then get back outside. It made passing classes in school really hard because I only had the bus ride home to get my homework done. Dean had lots of tobacco farms and as you can image he was doing really well for himself because he had free labor all year long. Raising tobacco isn't an easy job by any means and it's even harder when your just a kid. This kind of life went on for the whole time I was at the home and nothing ever got better. Remember that this foster home keeps boys and girls from all walks of life. Also remember that Linda's 20 something son Jay lives with her as well. One night I was up going to the bathroom when I could hear faint crying. The crying was coming from the girls room and I went to find out what was wrong. I opened the door to find Jay having sex with a girl that was about 16 years old or so. I ran to tell Linda and he quickly ran out of the room after me. All of the noise woke Linda up and Jay told her the caught me sneaking into the girls room. At this point I'm about ten years old or so and I try to explain to her what happened. She told me I'm telling lies and I should be ashamed of myself. She told me Jay would never do such a thing and I was in serious trouble tomorrow. I talked with the girl on the school bus the next morning and she said it was her idea to have sex. She told me she had been flirting with him and she was hungry for sex. I told her I was going to tell the social workers and she said if I did she would claim it never happened. When I did get home I was punished to clean out this old crappy garbage bin they have behind the home and it was full of loose garbage from bags getting ripped. The garbage bin was built of wood pallets and it was really large. They refused to give me any gloves to pick up the trash and as you might know, trash normally has food in it too. Of course all of this is rotten and full of maggots. It took me about six hours to clean it out. Later that week when we went to the social workers office for our visitation with my parents I told the social worker what happened to the girl and she pulled me into a private room to talk about it. I told her everything that was happening and she told me she'll stop by tomorrow after we get home from school for a surprise visit. What I found out later in life is that the social workers in my county hated conflict and paperwork, so they would always give the foster homes a heads up on visits. The next day when we arrived home her car was sitting in our driveway. When I walked in she took the girl out to her car to have a talk. While the social worker was away Linda tells me she knows what I've done and I'm going to wish I had never opened my mouth. The social worker comes back with the girl and sits in the living room with Linda, Jay, me and all of the other foster kids. She goes on to tell us the importance of telling the truth and makes an example out of me. She told the other kids not to tell lies like I do as it causes unneeded stress and issues for everyone. After she left Linda told me she's going to make me pay for this and it might not be today but one day (remember this phrase). **Getting Adopted and Physical Abuse** When I turned 16 I had been in the foster care system for about 8 years and my parents finally signed us over to the state. My social worker told me she's going to place us in line to be adopted and we will be visiting with new parents in the following weeks. I was very heart broken but I was also excited as I couldn't wait to get away from Linda and her family. Weeks go by and we never get to visit anyone and I started to get worried. One day Linda comes to school to pick us up and tells us we are getting adopted today! I was really confused because we hadn't meet with anyone. We arrive at the social workers office and go in with Linda. We go into a room where my parents are and paperwork is on the table. Because I was 16 I had to sign paperwork stating that I understood what was going on. The social worker tells me Linda is going to adopt us and I start crying on the spot. I tell them I would rather be dead then to be adopted by her and the social worker told me she understands my anger because I hate to obey rules. She was convinced that I was hating Linda because I was a rebel and the normal teenager who hated following rules at this age. I told her that's not true and she said she knows it to be true and she doesn't want to hear me tell any more lies. My parents are both crying and they have already signed the paperwork weeks ago. Linda signs hers and I refused to sign mine. The social worker told me if I don't sign it, it doesn't change anything as I'll still be adopted by Linda. On the way home from the social workers office Linda looks up in the mirror and gives me a long gaze that I'll never forget. She then says, ""I told you one day you'll pay for what you've done and that day has arrived."" I felt chills run down my spine and I was really in complete shock. Even as I type this out now I still get that same chill running down my spine and I can see her eye's glaring at me in the mirror. Now that she adopted me and my sister we were no longer protected by the foster care system. With foster kids, you're not allowed to lay a hand on them to discipline them and now that we are adopted that's out the window. Now, more abuse starts that we never had before. Now when Linda gets mad she would throw things at me, hit me with coffee cups, remote controls, chairs or anything else she could get her hands on. Jay then began to beat me like I was a man when I talked back to him or not doing what he said the second he said it. At this point I felt broken and alone. My sister was treated like a princess and it's because she arrived at the home when she was 4, so she only knows Linda as her only parent and always did what she commanded. My sister at the time had no real understanding of who Linda was and how awful her family was. My sister was over the moon about being adopted and having Linda's last name. My sister was basically brainwashed into thinking Linda could do no wrong and that I was just a troublemaker. I felt like I had lost the only family I had, she was my everything and I sacrificed so much because I never wanted to be separated from her. **My Father Passed Away** My grand plan in life was to turn 18 and go live with my parents away from Linda and her family. It wasn't long after I was adopted that my father was diagnosed with cancer in his throat. I was crushed by this news as my father was my hero. I was only with my parents until the age of 7, but they truly loved us and provided for us the best they could. My parents had never raised a hand to us growing up and treated us with the love kids need. My sister and I had monthly visits with our parents while in foster care and never missed any of them. We would get dropped off at the social workers office where our parents would walk with us to the local park and play. They didn't have a car or anything and used a local program for people in poverty to get access to transpiration. We had a local program ran by the county that would pick people up and drive them to the grocery store, doctor visits, and court. It was like Uber but it was limited as to where they would take you and how often. My uncle is helping my parents the most that he can and he takes my father for all of this chemo treatments. He is also coming to Linda's to pick us up to go and see my parents. At this point we're doing home visits with my parents as it's not easy for my father to travel. My father has been fighting with cancer for little over a year at this point. One day we are home for a visit with my father and he's in really bad shape. While he was gone for a chemo treatment someone broke into his house and stole all of his pain medication. My uncle tried to get the medication refilled and was turned away because they didn't have a police report. My father knew who stole the pills and didn't want to turn him in as cops to poor people is the enemy. I was in art class and was called to the front office to take a call. My uncle had called to tell me my father tried to commit suicide and he's being transported to the hospital. He told me he was on his way to pick me and my sister up to go see him. My father lasted a few days and passed away from his liver shutting down. I was able to see him before he died and he could squeeze my hand to let me know he could understand me. I made sure to tell him how much I loved him and I promise to make him proud. I'm telling this part of the story because of how Linda and her family treated me afterwards. They told me that deadbeats like my father are lazy people who draw a check every month paid for by working people. They said it's a good thing he's dead and now my mother needs to drop dead as she draws a check too. They told me this on the way home from the hospital! I sit in the main back of the van in silence and not shedding a tear. I was no longer going to let them control me and keep me down. I made a promise to myself that I will do everything in my power to be better than them and one day I would show them what my pain feels like. My father passed away on October 25th, 12x days before I would turn 18 on Nov 7th. My mother was soon after awarded to the state and placed into a nursing home due to her mental issues. **Making It on My Own** The day after we put my father to rest I started working with my uncle painting barns and sealing driveways. When I lived with my parents I missed to much school when I was in the first grade and failed. So getting out of high school I would be 19 years old. I had plans to go to Houston TX and learn underwater welding as that's where the money was. My uncle was paying me even on days we didn't find any work to make sure I had enough money to make it on my own. I had saved up about $1,200 and graduated high school. My uncle had paid a driver to take me and Linda down to TX. Linda had to go with me because I under the age of 25 and she had to sign paperwork stating she wouldn't be helping me with any student loans. We set out for TX and we are driving her van as my uncle's truck had broken down the day before and he only had his huge work truck that wouldn't be feasible to take. We get about 4 hours into the trip and Linda is getting frustrated. She told us she's tired of being in the van and she no longer wants to do this. She orders the driver to pull over in the next city. He does as she says because it's her van and she kicks me out onto a sidewalk. I have a bag of cloths and $1,200 in my pocket. They then take off and I watch them drive away and I keep watching for a few moments to make sure they are not coming back. I felt a relief sensation rush over my body, I'm free! I'm finally free! Of course this isn't where I wanted to be at as 4 hours south of Kentucky isn't TX at all. I picked up my bag and walked up the sidewalk and I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do. I could get a bus ticket and make my way down to TX but I don't have the first idea where a bus station is. Please understand that I had never been outside of my home town before this. I had never even met a person of any other race before. All I've ever done was go to school and work on a farm. I had no real education and hardly made it out of school. I come across a school in a shopping center and I decided to check it out. The school isn't even around today and was shut down because it a for profit school that gave you no value, and of course I had no idea at the time. I walk in and talk with the front desk about getting info on the school. She sends me to talk with a lady in admissions and I explain to her my situation. She tells me how I can get funding to go here and how she can get my housing tonight. They had a school housing program where they would put four students in a two bedroom apartment. She had me forge Linda's signature on paper work about financial aid. I go to this two year college and get a Associates Degree in Computer Science. I start working for a major computer company right out of college. I save every dime I can and only spend money when I need to. I buy my first truck with cash a year after starting at my job. **My Second Revenge** I was still keeping tabs on my sister back in Kentucky. At this point my sister is about to get married and I'm going to walk her down the aisle at the church Linda always took us to growing up. Please understand that Linda is a big figure at her church and well respected, this is important to understand for later. I drive up the weekend of the wedding and get a hotel room about an hour outside of where we grew up. My sister's best friend in the world and that's even true today calls me and we'll call her Karia. She tells me that my sister's fiance is abusive to her and she wants to call the wedding off but Linda told her she couldn't and not to embarrass her at the church. Linda knows that he's abusive to my sister and has told her she needs to obey him as he will be her husband. On the day of the wedding I walk my sister down the aisle like normal. The pastor does his thing and says some words and what not then comes the part where he asks if anyone thinks they shouldn't be married they must speak now. This is where I stand up and say, ""I object to my sister being married to an abusive drunk."" You could hear a pin drop for a moment and Linda's face is blood red. I then go on to say how Linda had know about the abuse and told my sister she was going to get married no matter what and not to ""embarrass her"" here today. Linda then loudly exclaims that I'm a known liar and everyone knows they can't believe a word I say. The pastor at this point asks me to please leave and my sister spoke up for me. Telling everyone that what I had said was the truth and we ran out of the church together. Linda was later removed from the church management and asked to please not come back to the church as they don't believe in abuse (I know what you're thinking). Oh man, I wish I could have been in the pastor's office to hear this conversation and to see the look on her face. After all of this happened my sister moved in with Karia where she would later meet her husband. **The Final Revenge** It had been about 7 years now from the wedding crash. I'm now married and I have a house of my own and living a great life. My sister had married a real man who treats her right and they have a great little girl together. Karia is now working at the county courthouse and does a lot of work with properties and taxes. She calls me one day to tell me Linda's property tax is way behind and they didn't get the tax lien lifted and now they will have a tax deed sale of the property. I knew this was my time to strike and pay them back for a fraction of the pain they had caused me. I show up at the auction and the only other person to show up was Jay and his wife. When he noticed me he turned pale and then tried to be all buddy buddy with me. I was very friendly and he asked me why I'm here. I tell him it's to help keep the property in the family and I had no problem helping out. I let him know if I get ownership I'll pay the taxes for them so they won't need to worry about this being a problem again ever again. His brother Dean had given him the money needed to purchase the property back so he had cash with him to pay for the taxes and fees. I told him to keep the cash and let them know you took care of the taxes. So the bidding starts at a little over $2,000 because of the back due taxes and fees. I bid on it and Jay doesn't. I easily win and now have instant ownership of the propriety. I go down the the courthouse with Jay and I finish all of the paper work with Karia. Linda had fallen behind on the property taxes because she was giving the money to Jay to pay it. Well it turns out Jay is what we call a ""pill head"" and was using the money to buy drugs. Linda didn't keep foster kids anymore because of her age she wasn't allowed to so they didn't have any money coming in besides disability and SSI. When I arrived to the house I told Linda how I regret being a horrible child and now that I'm older I've grown out of it. I let her know how much of a mother she was to me when I didn't have one and that I was here to pay her back. I told her now that I own the property she'll never need to worry about property taxes ever again. I let her know I'm going to remodel her house but she can't live in it at the same time. I told her this works out, because I won the bid the county would automatically evict them. Linda is a person who thinks we've never been to the moon, so tricking her into believing me was easy. She told me she could stay at Dean's house while I'm remodeling hers and she was very excited. I told her not to worry about any of the belongs they have as I'll make sure they are covered up and moved when needed. I tell her a lawyer will be sending some paperwork over to her in a few days. I then hire a lawyer to do an ejectment of Linda and Jay from the property. I don't know if I could have done this a different way, but this was the advice I was given at the time. It took about two months for everything to be fully mine and them evicted. With them evicted and now that all the belongs have stayed in the house past 30 days, I now own all of it. I got in contact with the local fire department to find out what I needed to do in order to burn a house down on my property. They informed me that it has to be a controlled burn, I'll need a permit to close off the road as the home sits near a public road and I had to have the water shut off and the power disconnected. The water was easy but it took awhile for the power because they had to remove all the wires running to the pole and remove the transformer. The fire department gave me a date and time I was allowed to do the burning and I coordinated with the sheriffs office to close the road. I got my permit from the city and now I just had to sit and wait. The day of the great fire, I prep the house with lots of straw inside and I made sure to take all of the doors down and open all of the windows as I wanted this to burn as fast as possible. I go to Dean's house to visit Jay and Linda. I told them I wanted to take them out by the old oak tree for lunch. This tree was in a field across the road from the home. When we worked on the farm we would eat lunch in the summer under the shade of this tree. Linda is in a wheelchair and Jay has a bad back so he doesn't move around too well and almost needs a wheelchair. Drop them off and I tell them to enjoy the snacks and I'll be right back as I'm going to set fire to the old stuff I ripped out of the house. It's really common for people where we live to burn trash. I called the fire department to let them know I was going to start the fire and made sure they had the address. I met with the officers closing the road off let them know I was about to begin and they might encounter some family members trying to get by them and not to let them. I then went behind and started fires from under the house with packed straw. I'm standing beside them while they eat and chat with me about life and what I've been doing with my career. It's not too long before the fire starts to peek around the sides of the home. They start screaming about the fire and we need to call 911. This is when I told them I had the road closed and the fire department already knew that I was going to burn my house down on my property. I told them what they are seeing is just a fraction of the pain they had caused me over the course of my life and I want them to know what a fraction of my pain feels like as I could never fully make them understand. At this point Jay is trying to call his brothers and I reminded him I have the road closed and they can't get by. It takes less than 20 minutes for the house to collapse into a heap of junk. The whole time I'm watching them as they sit and sob. Jay tries to fight me and I would just move away from him as he's high and can't really move well anyway. About 30 minutes as passed and the fire gone with just smoke and embers glowing. I get in my car and drive back home knowing that they have now lost almost everything they have. They didn't lose has much as I have, but it was the closest thing to it. **Closing** Linda passed away in 2010 and Jay lives with this wife in an old trailer somewhere. I still own the property today and refuse to sell it to anyone because I don't want them to ever have the chance of owning the property again. I go back every year to check on the property to make sure they haven't moved a trailer on it or something on my land. From my understanding the property was in the family for more than 100 years. I haven't talked to any of them and never plan to. What I want is anyone reading this to take away that abuse is never ok, EVER! If you're being abused do not listen to the people abusing you. They will lie and put you down to hold control over you. If you can help anyone that you know that's being abused please, please help them get help. I hope this story can help someone else and just so you know I don't wish death or harm to Linda's family. Yes they were in the wrong for how they treated me and other kids, but I've learned you can't control the past but you can have influence on your future."
s_3075_16,It's also 4am and I can't get to sleep at all and don't feel tired
s_975_79,"That's good to know, thanks! I'm not suicidal. I only cut as a new coping mechanism and don't think my case is serious, but i just wanted to make sure."
s_2479_96,"Yes, anti-depressants, i've been taking them for about 6 weeks now. I don't know if they help, i kind of picked myself back up when my partner left, now i feel so down again i don't know what to do. I can't really talk to him, he just tries to cheer me up, or make things better, telling me to smile and not worry. But i am worried, all the time, i don't want to smile, i want to cry. I feel trapped in my own mind and house. I'm not allowed to be upset, i'm not allowed to be down or cry, i'm not allowed to be angry. When i am, i'm angry, so angry, at myself, at my body at my mind, at him. :'("
s_897_1238,"Attempted sex abuser keeps trying to come back in to my life. This may be long. I am a successful 30yo male engineer. I've lived on my own since I was 16 - my parents and I get along ok so long as we aren't under the same roof. I'll come out and say it - I'm smarter than them. Or, at the very least I research my decisions before making them and back them up with said research. I was a straight A student. Racked up tons of community service, was active in a church youth group. I led several student groups. I won congressional good citizenship awards. I was never in trouble. I just asked questions and wanted good answers. So, when I lived with them, I would point out things that didn't make sense. that maybe a gigantic steak with mashed potatoes, a big helping of cake, and soda wasn't always the best dietary decision for each person. I am the only person in the family without diabetes now. I would point out that if they have to take a 3rd mortgage out on their home, maybe giving 500 dollars to charity isn't the wisest choice. They are almost 70 and still about 80k in debt, whereas I have all of my loans paid off save for a mortgage and one private student loan (in total, less than 2 years salary for me). I'd point out that if their church is pressuring them to fork over mortgage money, maybe it's time for a new church. They'd take me wanting to make myself a healthy soup for dinner instead of having the same calorie-ladened food as them and I'd get screamed at for hours as ""unappreciative."" By the time I graduated high school I weighed nearly 350 pounds (""you don't get up from this table until you've cleaned that plate!""). I'm doing well, not because of them, but in spite of them. I know this sounds arrogant, and maybe it is. But so far everything we've had it out on when I was a teenager has worked out well. Back then though, any time I'd point out logical flaws or fallacies, or try to improve things for myself, they took it as me being ""ungrateful."" So, to ""teach me a lesson"" they decided to send me to a family friend for some ""tough love"" for a summer. I never went back home. The first week was great. He had been someone I looked up to. He was a decorated retired soldier that I thought would understand that my parents are a bit off kilter and prone to making bad decisions and hyperbole. We talked about it a lot the first week. He actively asked me about the issues I was having at home. Then one night while I am sleeping, I get slapped. It was him with a steel baseball bat, standing over me. He told me I was his for the summer, and he was going to teach me how good I had it ""back home."" So began a summer of physical, emotional, and mental abuse. He'd force me to work outside for hours with no sunscreen (""what are you, a little bitch? Man up, you dont need sunscreen."") which led to my shoulders blistering, cracking, bleeding. I still have those physical scars. That put me in the hospital for heat stroke. He beat me several times for whatever perceived slight he could conjure up. He said he had people spying on me, and claimed I destroyed his pool by pouring bleach into it because ""one of his spies saw it."" ( I had had 2 people over that night and we were inside the whole time, so no, it was not me who touched his pool). I got a summer job and begged to stay there for extra hours, but when I got a paycheck he threatened to beat me if I didn't sign it over to him. He refused to feed me, and said I had to pay for my own food. I lost nearly 40 pounds that summer from stress and lack of food. The only things I ate were free food at my workplace (a pretzel place in a walmart that had an ""employees can help themselves"" policy - i literally lived on pretzel dogs and pretzels for the summer). I begged my parents to take me home but they were the ones who put me there. He busted my nose. My parents kept telling me ""it's not that bad. You WANTED a vacation from home, right?"" But the worst was one night after a day of work, I came home and he forced me to sit down next to him on the couch. He turned on a porno. I have no idea if this was genuine or if it was just more mental abuse. He started talking about how when he was in the military he participated in an orgy and it was the most sexually thrilling moment of his life. He hands me some tissues and tells me to jerk off for him. I say no, that I'm uncomfortable. He keeps saying it's ok, if I jerk off he will too, I keep saying no, no, no. He keeps pressuring me. He starts throwing tissues at me and telling me to whip it out. I get up and run out of the house and sprint as fast as I can down the nearby highway. Police are called and pick me up, I tell them I want to go home. Police listen to my parents, and take me back to abuser's house ""because they want to teach me a lesson and scare me straight."" He proceeds to beat the shit out of me, threatens me with the bat that he'll bash my skull in if I ever try that again, etc. Finally summer ends, and my parents take me back home. I contact my best friend and move out immediately. I leave everything behind. I just want out of my parents house. I sever all ties with the abuser. He severs ties with my family for the most part. I am on poor terms with my family, I see them maybe 1 day a year. I never talked to them about everything that happened other than the fact that when I needed them, they weren't there for me and refused to help me or believe me. They keep saying it was for my own good. Fast forward to a year ago. I get a message from the abuser in facebook. I ignore it. I get another, and I ignore it. I get a friend request. I get another. I ignore it. Then I get a call from my mom asking me why I won't talk to the abuser. It turns out that my parents, who are both very sick (mom in a wheelchair, dad in and out of the hospital) have been getting tons of help from the abuser for free. He put a roof on their house. He repaired their sidewalks, etc. They view him as a son. I like that they're getting free things out of the asshole. So long as I don't have to see or hear from him or hear ABOUT him, I'm content. I tell her to stop trying to force it. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to see him. My mom keeps trying to set up days for me to come over to the house when he just so happens to be there. I turn around, grab my wife, get in my car, and drive away. Finally I told the abuser point blank that I have no desire to ever speak to him. To leave me alone. Stay the hell out of my life. Yesterday my wife had to drop by my parent's house to grab a phone charger for my dad who was rushed to the hospital a few days ago. While there, my mom tells my wife that they my father had asked the abuser to ""give me a rough summer to see how good I had it at home."" my dad wants to talk to me about it. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to destroy the guys life. He had it rough (mom shot herself with a shotgun, dad was an abusive alcoholic and ultimately killed himself). He has kids. He does help my parents. I am content to have no contact with him. My parents just won't drop it. Maybe the jerkoff thing was some fucked up mind game. I'm not broken, I've done very well for myself. I'm paranoid of people and an introvert, but I've always been that way. It's when he reaches out to me and pushes the issue, then I want blood. I also am concerned about my nephews who live with my parents. What if it wasn't a mind game? Maybe he'll try the same thing with my nephews? Would my parents even believe me if I said something? They have a very strong penchant for denial about bad things in their life. And now here I am. Asking you all for your advice. I want this person out of my life. He so far has respected my wishes to leave me the hell alone, but he bitches to my parents and they pressure me to talk to him. I just want it to go away. I just don't know what to do. The only people who know the whole story are my wife, a very close friend who was also the victim of abuse, and now all of you."
s_17_843,"How do I quit from the post office? I don't know if there are any supervisors out here on this subreddit but seriously fuck all of you supervisors. I apologize if you are actually a good supervisor but I've never met such vile and disrespectful supervisors until I bid to the station as a clerk. I don't know how the hell the supervisors get away with being such bitches but I've never worked anywhere where the whole environment is verbal abuse, rudeness, bullying, basically a dictatorship, with sups who can seemingly change the rules on the whim. I am SO STRESSED working here, I've been a regular clerk for 7 years now and I've about had it. I'm tired of being treated like a disposable employee, I have a family and activities that I like to enjoy outside of work and I'm tired of management always assuming you are supposed to work your life around whatever is convenient for them. I'm tired of hearing ""just make the money"" ""just don't talk to them"" ""just suck it up"". This is MY LIFE. I spend the majority of my week here and it fucking drains the living soul out of me. I am not the same person I once was. I wake up feeling depressed, upset, and anxious. I hate this job and I'm seriously proud of all of you for doing your jobs every day and still holding on. I've resorted to calling EAP and seeing a therapist. I've never felt so low at any point in my life until I came to the station. I cry probably every other day when I'm at work. I'm not taking care of myself. I'm lashing out on my kids for any small thing. I'm taking all my anger out on my poor husband everyday. My entire life is being negatively affected by this job. Seriously fuck this. Thank you for letting me vent here."
s_337_220,"Pretty much everything I hate in other people is something I recognize as a negative trait in myself. I just try to associate myself with people that I look up to and admire, and hopefully their loveliness will rub off on me :)"
s_1858_13,Your viewpoints are completely immature and outdated. We're not in the ages where people would make children to become workers and feed the family. You're saying this like I'm supposed to start working as soon as I get 18 just because my father made poor life choices and decided to have children. I'd rather kill myself. Fuck your advice dude.
s_142_198,"So if we are Happy inside because we are looking forward to Xmas, then we are not really happy? After going through a near death experience, I learned a large part of my present sense of well being is due to my hope for tomorrow. When that was taken from me my self changed profoundly."
s_1506_37,"Serious replies only - recently experienced loss of drive, how do I fix It? I've recently been diagnosed with depression, and am hoping to be diagnosed with borderline personality disorder which will make my condition easier to treat, and understand. However, in the process of weekly therapy, anti depressants and doctor appointments, I have lost my sex drive. I have gone from masturbating daily, to only doing it once a week or not even that. I feel I need to wear sexy lingerie to feel good about my body, and my partner constantly reassures me. Unfortunately, my diagnosis came around when I was a young teen after being sexually, physically and mentally abused and sometimes this effects our sex life but we have this part under control. However my partner doesn't want to feel like he's forcing me to have sex with him, although he isn't, and so sometimes he goes without sex. I just want some help on how to recover the drive, and spice things up a bit. Please keep in mind that this a serious post, and I'd appreciate if this was kept serious too."
s_2958_177,"Existential anxiety comes and goes. Has anyone felt like this before? I've been having severe anxiety about my life for the past 2 years. Basically along the lines of how I conduct myself, how I spend my time, wether I'm living a life that is worthwhile and productive. Sometimes in the last 2 years it's been to the point that I wasn't going outside much and spent a lot of time reading. My biggest issue was that I was having a great deal of anxiety regarding the media and how it affects people. After reading books like 1984, and to a greater extent Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, I became really fixated on how the media I consume affects my mind. I know this sounds paranoid, believe me many times I've felt I was losing my mind with how anxious I was, but many, many very well respected and intelligent people have written about exactly what I'm talking about. People have written whole books in fact
ex: [<URL>]
I now get very anxious about what I read, watch, listen to, and generally participate in. I've become very aware of which popular news papers are directed at which audience and its not a very difficult thing to do. Writing style, content, advertisements are all indicative of the sort of people that the publication is being directed to. In general I feel like I'm being shoehorned into a specific consumption and that my life is full of distraction. I feel as though me and everyone around me are being distracted which prevents us from reaching our full potential. I've tried so many times to get out of this thought loop but I fail every time. I can't stop feeling anxious about it, I'm so afraid that I've wasted my life and that I'll never reach my potential because I'll always be driven to distract myself. The worst part is that every person speak to about this, college professors, my therapist, all agree that my observations have a great deal of truth to them, so I can't be completely deluded. I wish I could stop thinking about it but I can't, I wish I could go back to not thinking about what I consume and just live a life of ignorance. I don't know, does this sound as off the wall to you as it sometimes does to me? Is my anxiety founded or am I walking a thin line of falling into an even darker arena than anxiety? I don't know I just can't seem to escape these thoughts, they're so fundamental to my life and how I'm going to live."
s_1884_952,"gt;**As of today, the conservatorship of the person and estate of Britney Jean Spears is hereby terminated,** Judge Brenda Penny said. gt;The crowd chanted Britney! and fans sang and danced to Spears song Stronger. gt;Spears promptly tweeted about the decision: Good God I love my fans so much its crazy!!! I think Im gonna cry the rest of the day!!!! Best day ever **praise the Lord can I get an Amen???** Meanwhile Title: Britney Spearss Case Exposed a Systemic History of Reproductive Control gt;Men have an extensive history of inappropriate involvement in birthing peoples reproductionmaking Britney Spearss father only the latest person at the center of allegations involving reproductive control. gt;Whether its people pressuring them to stay on birth control (as Britney Spears recounts), or boyfriends convincing them to just get on the pill to avoid using condoms, women face gendered birth control threats outside the public eye. Title: My Body, My Choice? The Paradox of Republican Anti-vaxxers gt;The first time I saw a photo of an anti-vaxxer with a sign that read My Body My Choice, I was sort of puzzled. I thought perhaps the photo editor had used the wrong image to accompany the storybut then I saw that the sign also included a picture of a mask with a red line across it. No, these people werent protesting a government that was regulating uteruses, a government that was telling women when they could end a pregnancy that was going on in their own bodies. They were instead protesting a simple and painless public-health measure. They were mad at the idea of having to wear a piece of fabric on their faces. gt;These anti-vaxxers are becoming a bigger and bigger part of todays Republican Party,... gt;Members of the GOP represent the most vehement proponents of government regulation when it comes to abortion. Some of them have gone so far in their war against a womans right to choose that they are now interested in limiting birth control options. And if that werent enough, Texas is about to enact a law that would allow private citizens to sue people who helped women get abortionslike in The Handmaids Tale or the Salem witch trials. <URL>"
s_1939_317,"I often feel a lot of resentment to my past self. I like to think that it's because I'm becoming a better person every day (that is, moving ever closer to being the person I truly want to be). Then I realise it's because I used to be a little twat."
s_258_650,"And what bothers me most is how the mental health awareness trend upholds us as precious victims when in most cases, I can easily admit to being an unbearable, toxic ,asshole of a person and a part of the reason why I have no friends is because I am an unbearably toxic asshole of a person . I try to adapt to others at times but my social disconnection is too strong , which makes me blunt, terse, and too brutally honest. I have to say what I want to say otherwise I just hate myself more and people (neurotypicals) seem to dislike that. People enjoy the artificiality of speaking . I cant stand it. Plus, socializing is fucking tiring . Nobody wants to be around the person who has no enthusiasm or joy in doing anything. Its for this reason many of us wind up lonely without a social life. Its for this reason many of us develop self-hate. I get overwhelmingly pissed off when some people, largely the ones who romanticize/glorify depression, make it appear as if having this is something to shower with sympathy because in reality, it never works like that. We are often pushed to the point of marginalization; we become absolute ghosts to the world."
s_1287_438,I sleep for 23 hours.
s_1514_41,"The Pledge I was skeptical when my online friends first linked me to the supposed evil Kickstarter that was going viral on the less-than-wholesome forums we frequented. We were an unmoderated haven for trolls, weirdos, and radicals, sure, but this Kickstarter was something else entirely. It seemed to have no publicly stated goal; the writers had only promised something awesome if the funding amount was reached. Stranger still, the rewards were all hidden except for the first level. In the Pledge $1 or more' box the text read: ""Want to get started? Throw in $1, and you'll receive access to the higher pledge tiers. Also, two things will happen. You will have a minor intangible wish granted, and we will send you a video of one of us kicking a random stranger! Estimated Delivery: Tomorrow."" Tomorrow? Don't these rewards usually only get sent out after full funding? But I understood what they were going for. This was a gimmick to get attention, and judging by the high number of backers listed in the box, it was working. Screw it, I thought. I'll throw in a dollar and see what happens. As I woke up the next morning, I trudged around the kitchen making coffee and then sat sipping it at the table while trying to escape the grogginess of sleep. All I wanted was a day to myself to avoid the grinding monotony of classes. At that moment, my phone dinged. Lifting it, I saw that someone had sent me an email with a video attachment. I instantly became fully awake as I realized what this was. Opening it with trepidation, I hit play and watched. Five teenagers in black hoodies and expressionless white masks ran through an alleyway together, often looking back at the camera and laughing. When they reached the street, they made a beeline for a tired businessman on a bench, and the lead kid ran right up and kicked him in the shin. Confused and angry, the businessman leapt up and began shouting, but the hooligans were already running away. The last few seconds of the video were a close-up of a white mask and dark emotionless eyeholes as they fled the scene. The speaker said, ""This one's for you, Jason Phillips. Thanks for your dollar pledge!"" It would be an understatement to say I was put off. They were actually going around kicking people in return for a dollar! I had to call the police. I picked up my phone again, moved to action by the fear that I might be liable for thisbut my phone dinged again. I had a text message and an email from the official college department telling me that classes were cancelled today on account of a bomb threat. I sat in silence until it hit me: I'd just been wishing for a day to myself. Had these violent teenagers guessed that would be my minor wish? Had they called in a bomb threat to get me the day off? I shivered. I couldn't call the police. I couldn't be connected to this. I would be expelled at best and jailed at worst. They might even look into my history of trolling online, and then I'd really be screwed. How the hell had they gotten my name? Had I been so stupid as to use my real credit card? I flipped through the logs and confirmation emails, but noI'd taken the proper precaution and used an anonymous cash card. How had they gotten my information? My friends had to be in on it. This was all a prank! Well, they'd gotten me good. There was probably no bomb threat at all. The text had likely been faked or spoofed somehow. Smiling the whole way, I went to class anyway. But it was cancelled, and cops were everywhere. Rather than going home, I stopped in a Starbucks and pulled out my laptop. Was it paranoia to avoid using my computer at home? Something about this seemed off. Checking the Kickstarter again to try to understand what was happening, I saw that I'd been given access to the $5 tier. "" Now that you've seen we're legit, why not up the stakes a little? Pledge five bucks and we'll get you something tangible of your choice worth $500 or less. We'll also send you a video of us punching a stranger in the face! Estimated Delivery: Tomorrow."" I could actually feel my circulatory system in my torso thanks to the stressed beats within. It was not a pleasant feeling. But pay $5 and get something worth $500? The first thing that came to mind was that gaming console I couldn't afford. All my classmates were talking about the greatest new games, but could only watch gameplay videos online to carry on the charade that I had them myself. In some sense, I believed that the Kickstarter videos were staged and that the end parts with the close-up and my spoken name were edited onto the end of each file they sent out. Reassuring myself, I pledged five bucks. I drank more than my share of beer that night with my roommates. Trying to pretend like everything was fine, I forced smiles and told some jokes. One of my friends mentioned that I seemed strained, but I laughed it off and said it was just the stress of upcoming finals. The beer helped me sleep, but I awoke with a start and ran downstairs as morning light shimmered in through the windows. There was already a package on my doorstep. It was addressed to someone named Ricardo Jimenez, along with a note that read ""Happy Birthday, son!"" I opened it, but I already knew what it was: someone else's gaming system had been diverted to my address. As I opened the box, my phone dinged, and my blood ran cold. Were they teenagers? They were thin and lanky under their black hoodies and blue jeans, but their masks hid any identifying features. Watching them run, I noticed their gait seemed odd, and I steeled myself as they burst out of a different alley and ran at a haggard mother pushing a baby carriage. I screamed at my phone, ""No!""but it was useless. The lead hooligan ran straight at her and popped her in the side of the face with a punch that took a straight line. From that, I knew they were the same height as her. I absorbed that fact to counter the horrible feeling that I'd caused this to happen to some unsuspecting mother on the street. Again, a mask filled the video view for the final sequence. "" Thanks for your five dollar pledge, Jason Phillips! I hope you enjoy those games!"" The gaming system found a new home in a dumpster five blocks away from my apartment. I couldn't keep it, not after what I'd seen, and I certainly couldn't sell it without confirming intent for any police that might be chasing these guys down. On the walk back, I took a roundabout route, and I eyed every car around me with suspicion. No one seemed to be taking note of my presence but why should they? To the real world, I was just a random college senior. They had no idea what I did or said online. Classes blurred by. I could think of nothing else but the Kickstarter. I knew I would see another new pledge level if I looked again, but I feared what I would find. Between classes, I tried to contact the friends that had linked me to it. None of them were responding. I was still half-certain they were somehow in on it, but the feeling this whole thing was giving meI just couldn't be sure anymore. My resistance lasted two days. Ostensibly, I was checking to see when the mysterious goalless Kickstarter was ending, but I couldn't help but glance down and see the $10 tier. "" You're in it now, friend! For your amazing support of ten dollars, we will free you from an intangible chain that's weighing you down. We'll also send you another of those videos you love. In this one, we'll non-fatally stab someone just for you! Estimated Delivery: Tomorrow."" Stab someone? Jesus Christ! But an intangible chain weighing me down? God, my student loans! I hit the Pledge button without letting myself debate further. My student loan debt was over eighty-thousand dollars, and it represented a lifetime of tithing servitude that I would never fully repay, not with the way the economy was going. Wine was my friend that night rather than beer. I sat watching pirated movies online until the sun came up, not bearing to think about what I'd done. At the same time, I very much needed this to be real. When the Student Financial Services office opened, I was there. As I barged in the instant the clock hit the hour, a blonde fellow student looked up in surprise. "" Can I help you?"" ""Yes, I need to check my debt balance."" I tried my best to look calm, but I guessed my terse restraint just made me that much more suspicious. "" My name's Jason Phillips. Here's my student ID and papers."" ""Sure,"" she said, taking my paperwork and turning to her computer. After a moment of typing, she began to recite, ""If this is about a payment, you can go to our"" She stopped typing. "" Looks like you have a zero balance."" Barely able to keep myself from shaking in my sneakers, I clarified, ""No debt? It got paid off?"" She shook her head. "" You've never taken out a loan with us at all. You're enrolled, but the Registrar's database says you've paid in cash every term."" ""From what accounts?"" I asked, forcing a nonchalant smile. ""Oh, we don't have access to that here."" She gave a small laugh. "" I'm just here through work study. Is something wrong? I'd kill to be debt-free."" My phone dinged in my pocket. "" Don't say that,"" I told her far more seriously than I intended. "" Don't say that."" Out in the hallway, I sat and watched the video. The same five black-hoodied, white-masked thugs were running through an alley. As they emerged onto the street and headed for a bald teenage girl in a shirt that read 'I stood strong, I fought hard, I won', I closed the video and put it away. I couldn't watch it. I recognized that kind of shirt from my father's own struggle with cancer. The shaking wouldn't stop, and I imagined I was bright red from the absolute chaos going on inside my chest. Oh God, I was free of the debt, free of the weight of eighty-thousand dollars that had racked up when my father's illness ate my college fund. I was free of the debt and I was happy for it. I was happy! Meanwhile, some teenage girl that had just survived the unthinkable was about to be stabbed in exchange. My only consolation, as spit and tears plopped onto the floor by my sneakers, was that the pledge box had specified non-fatal. ""Are you alright?"" It was my turn to look up in surprise. ""It's not often that someone comes in freaked out and sad that they have no debt,"" the blonde girl from the front desk said. "" Something's the matter, isn't it?"" After studying my face, she sat next to me. "" I'm Kelly."" ""Jason,"" I told her, unable to look her in the eye. ""Why don't you tell me what's wrong, Jason?"" It all spilled out of me in one long babbling wave. The Kickstarter, the pledge tiers, the bomb threat, the kick, the gaming system, the punch in the face, the cancelled student loan debt; she sat and listened to all of it, wary. After I was done, she nodded once, narrowed her eyes, and then said, ""Show me the video."" That was not the reaction I'd expected. I'd been braced for disbelief or having the cops called on me. Instead, I asked, ""Are you sure? ""Just show it to me."" She took the phone and watched without visible reaction. After I heard it say my name and thank me for the ten dollar pledge, she said, ""Well, they stabbed her. But I think she'll live."" I finally found myself able to look at her. Now that someone else knew, I wasn't so gripped by terror and self-loathing. "" You're not scared?"" ""I don't know enough to be scared yet. Do you have the other two videos on this phone?"" She watched the previous two with the same calculating gaze. Once they were over, she said, ""They always originate out of sight. Why is that? And who exactly is doing the filming? Tonight, let's get these on a bigger monitor and watch for reflections. These look like random city streets. There's no way they've got all the angles coveredand if they do, you'll know it's fake."" After a sigh and a nod, I told her, ""I have a desktop computer at home. Two big monitors."" ""You a Computer Science major?"" ""Alright, here's my number. Text me your address and I'll come by after work and classes."" Taking my phone back with a sense of dumbfounded shame and hope, I asked, ""Why are you helping me?"" ""Maybe I'm one of them,"" she said with complete neutrality. "" And this is just a way of secretly getting closer to you."" I laughed nervously, but she returned to the Student Financial Services office without taking it back or even hinting that she was joking. Something about her deadpan attitude made her seem trustworthy or maybe I was just desperate to have help in this. But I had no other option anyway. That night, I sent her my address, and she showed up with a laptop of her own and sat at my desk alongside me. I loaded up the videos on my large monitors, and we began to go through them frame by frame, staring at every single blur and corner. ""Hackers of some sort,"" she guessed, drinking from a very large fountain soda she'd brought. "" You'd be surprised the kind of information they can get online."" ""Oh, I'm no stranger to hacking,"" I replied, feeling much better now that I had an ally. "" I basically live on the Internet. Career no-lifer here. But this is a whole other level. Calling in bomb threats, redirecting mail, cancelling debt, and all without any police attention that I've seen: these guys are good."" She glanced up at one of the tab names in my browser bar above the video. "" You frequent that forum?"" Red-faced, I quickly closed the tab. "" I'm not a brony, I swear. I was just trying to get info on these guys."" ""I believe you,"" she said sardonically. There was nothing in the first or second video, even going frame by frame. "" Could just be unlucky,"" she commented. "" Load up the third one."" I glanced over at my small digital clock. "" Are you sure? It's two in the morning."" ""I'm sure. There's something here."" Again, I had to ask: ""Why are you helping me?"" She looked me straight in the eyes, which I'd found was rare for her. "" It's a mystery. Don't you want to solve it?"" ""They're hurting people."" My heart was beating fast again, for many reasons. "" This is messed up. They're halfway to their fundraising goal, and I don't even know what'll happen when they reach it!"" ""Could be some sort of terrorist attack,"" she mused. "" But that doesn't seem right. These guys have some sort of moral code lurking behind their cheery shenanigans. They're giving you things, but they're also hurting people. Before we look at the third video, what's the next pledge tier?"" I opened up the Kickstarter and stared. "" You've come so far in support of our grand goal! What's a few more dollars? Pledge $25 and we'll get you something tangible that will go a long way towards your happiness and freedom. Our video offering here is also pretty kickasspun intended. With this tier, we'll send you a video of us kicking someone you know! Estimated Delivery: Tomorrow."" She looked to me. "" The cost in violence appears to have gone down."" ""But now it's someone I know,"" I said with hesitation. "" But what does that mean? What level of being familiar with someone means I know them? Do they mean my friends online? Classmates here?"" ""The choice is yours,"" she replied, still neutral. "" But that seems like a small price to pay for more information. A fourth video would help, along with seeing them in action again."" ""That's true."" I'd been thinking that myself. Before I could second-guess the decision, I clicked the Pledge button again. She gazed around my bedroom. "" Nothing happened."" ""Well yeah, it's not immediate."" ""Then let's go over this video."" We began going through the third video frame by frame, looking for any hint of editing or angles that might show something the five masked, lanky figures had missedand I lost all feeling in my limbs for a moment as I finally saw it. Pointing, I drew Kelly's attention to a reflection on a passing car window. Five black hoodies and white masks could be seen, but. ""There's nobody filming,"" she said with confusion. "" That's where the camera should be, right?"" I half-shouted. "" There's the pole that just passed on the left! Where's the cameraman? Where's the camera?!"" While I got up and began to pace back and forth in a panic, she sat in her chair, staring down at the desk and murmuring to herself, ""Hacking, coding, digital alterationburied for us to findthey want us to be scared. They didn't make a single mistake in the first two videos. They knew we'd comb through and find it. All part of the gimmick."" ""Yeah, yeah. That has to be it!"" ""But to edit the reflection on glass on a moving car so perfectly,"" she continued, rocking back and forth slightly. "" It's amazing."" She snapped out of it then and looked at me. "" It's too late to walk through the city. I'm staying here tonight."" Just like that, one confusing terror drained out me to be replaced by another. ""... She slept on the other side of my bed while I remained awake. I was getting increasingly fatigued, but I was far too tense to sleep for many reasons. Morning came as a gradual grey lightening, and I sat up wearily just as the sounds of a loud and heavy truck began emanating from outside my window. Kelly awoke and popped up instantly with no sign of exhaustion. Together, we went outside to see a heavy-set man operating a winch to lower a sports car onto the pavement. "" You Jason Phillips?"" ""Got some ID?"" I showed him. He grunted. "" This car's for you, kid. What'd you do, get all A's and your parents bought you a car? This one's an easy hundred-thousand. Must have been some tough classes."" Staring, I said nothing. He handed me the title after I signed something on a clipboard, and, suddenly, I was the new owner of a Lamborghini. The deliveryman knew nothing of interest, only that the order had come in online and cleared, and I was left to sit in my new sports car while my phone dinged every so often to remind me I had a new video. This didn't do it for me. I didn't care about a car. I wasn't really that material. Exceptwhat else had the tier said? Something about freedom? A car meant the ability to travel. With a car, class would no longer be a twenty minute walk away. I could give rides to people, curry favor... impress girls. I looked over at Kelly, who stood studying the title and paperwork. Did this kind of thing impact her at all? Nothing seemed to faze her. But I was not nearly as stoic. The fourth video immediately began in a dark gap between two houses, and the five white-masked perpetrators ran across the street toward a house I recognized. As they broke in the door and the sounds of my mother screaming reached my ears, I watched in abject horror as the invaders broke my dad's at-home medical machines and began brutally kicking him until he was crawling on the floor. Exact grammar was important: the first tier had said that one of them would kick a random stranger. This latest tier had simply said the video would be of 'us' kicking someone I knew. I hadn't paid close enough attention! My jaw began trembling as I watched the five run from the house, laughing. "" Jason Phillips, thanks for your continued donations!"" ""What is it?"" Kelly asked. Through the open car window, I handed her the phone in silence. She watched it calmly. "" This is great."" I screamed. "" Did you see what they did?!"" They entered a place they did not control, and by the color of the sky it looks like they literally just did this. They'll have screwed up this time. They didn't give themselves a chance to edit the video. Get inside and get this on your monitor."" Wiping away tears, I did as instructed, and we began going over the fourth video frame by frame. It was gut-wrenching to see my father beaten so brutally after what he'd already survived, and to know that I did thatit was something I could never apologize for. Kelly said, ""The Kickstarter's almost at its goal."" Glancing at my other monitor, I saw only a sliver remaining to be filled. It was me, wasn't it? It was counting down for me. I kept finding excuses to gain things at the cost of others, and I kept finding ways to feel confused or surprised about the result to shirk responsibility. It had clearly stated what would happen in each tier. In fact, while Kelly continued studying the fourth video, my eyes strayed to the fifth and final tier: ""Are you ready for the Change? Pledge the maximum amount and we'll reach our goal. Untold wonders await our most devoted supporters. We'll also send you a video of us killing someone you know! Don't worry, it won't be a family member. Estimated Delivery: Immediate!"" Untold wonders? What could that entail? They'd already done such incredible things, but they'd all been within the realm of possibility via computers and social engineering so far. Next to me, Kelly gasped. "" They missed one. They missed a reflection!"" She grasped my arm, but I just kept staring at the Pledge button. Untold wonders? "" They're not human! Jason, look! You have to look!"" My hand floated to my mouse, and I moved the pointer over the Pledge button. I had an idea of who would be sacrificed, if not a family member. Kelly seemed like a great person, strange in some ways, very caring in others, but did I really value her as highly as whatever these untold wonders were? I didn't know her that well, but yes. She was human, and she was alive, just like me. This wasn't some anonymous person on the Internet that I was slinging insults at. This was a real person, and I understood now that they had always been real people behind their monitors somewhere in the world. God, I'd been a terrible person. The stress of my father's illness and the pressure on my finances and family had pushed me in a dark direction; a direction I now had to resist. I let out a sigh and released the mouse. The spell was broken. It was over. The madness was over. ""No more,"" I said with relief. "" I can't go down this road any further. It's just not right."" I turned and froze; the ominous black maw of a gun barrel had been pointed at the back of my head, and it was now directly touching the bridge of my nose. "" She slowly withdrew the weapon and slotted it into an unseen holster. Still eerily calm, she began to walk away. ""What was all this?"" I called after her from my seat, my mind racing from the adrenaline. "" Jesus, was this a test?"" She paused at my door. Without looking back at me, she said softly, ""Yes. A test for admittanceand you failed."" Her gaze turned slowly toward me, and now that she was no longer putting on an act, I understood that her expressionlessness was that of an animated corpse. "" But I'm glad you did. You wouldn't like it where we're from."" With that, she was gone, and I was left to quiver in my chair, process what had happened, and stare at the one reflection the editors had missed in the fourth video: the face of the cameraman. It was a demonic, hollow-eyed, maggot-infested sneering visage; it was a face that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. It was my facealmost. ---
[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)[+](<URL>)"
s_2815_1588,"Snapshot of a New Man I feel happiness. Old Me experienced misery. He was stationary, stagnant, and sad; a shuffling personification of malaise. But Old Me ended earlier today. Peer into my eyes and watch as hes devoured. In the late afternoon afternoon, I strolled through our small-town markets and malls, restaurants and theaters, touching all I could. Its amazing how oblivious people can be. Back home, a few hours later, local news reports started coming in. Biological Mystery. Impossible Pregnancies. Each headline fed my reinforcement mechanisms. Elation begat ebullience. Ebullience begat euphoria. I am the Infestor of Wombs. I wandered, undetected, through blockades and cordons and walls. When I chose to be seen, they flocked to me; women walked, girls skipped, infants crawled. Old Me peeked out from behind my eyes, only to retreat, sobbing. Gravid bellies seethed from the impatience of the lives-to-be and threatened to tear their mothers in half. I walked from home to home, invisible again, stroking the hair and skin of my surrogates, watching them smile contentedly during this brief respite from pain. Soon after, they all gave birth. Scores Dead. Devastating Deliveries. Stillbirth Epidemic. My Little Girl crawled to my home as I slept and was waiting on my doorstep the next morning. I bathed Her tiny body and removed the remainder of Her umbilical cord. She stared at me with Her radiant eyes as I poured warm water over Her skin. Extinguish the stars, She whispered, smiling. I kissed the top of her head. I am the Father of Joy. Joy grew as I fed Her throughout the day. Old Me was nearly gone; his presence only manifested as prickles down my spine as Joy raced through Her childhood and adolescence and peaked as a young woman over a period of hours. Joy told me She was ready and I followed Her into the basement. She stood in the center of the dirt floor, beaming at me with adoration. I am the Gaze of Beasts, She breathed. I heard a ripping sound as the corners of Her mouth tore to Her ears. Her teeth cracked and splintered and fell to the floor. Fingernails peeled off and fluttered to the ground like dead moths. Old Me shuddered and exhaled his dying breath. Joy was still for a moment, but then She began to change. I watched in awe as Her flesh sagged and split and the pores of Her skin gave birth to the eyes of Black God."
s_2184_571,"Oh I know he thinks she is prettier than me. He hasn't told me it, but he doesn't even have to. At first I was very suicidal and ended up in a mental hospital because I felt serious about wanting to die. Eventually, I did take those feelings and use them to make myself more attractive, and actually it worked but I still feel horrible. Now I even resemble her look and style and I feel disgusted with myself. The only thing that makes me feel in control is what I put in my body."
s_1051_25,All my experiments fail
s_90_133,"I definitely recommend therapy. Though the catch-22 with working with a therapist is that it a lot like working with a personal trainer; it may take time to find one you vibe with, and all the effort is still on you. Given that Anxiety/Depression leaves us prone to quit, the process of getting the right kind of care can be exhausting. For myself, (MDD, GAD, Adult ADHD) a combination of medication, exercise, and monthly counseling has helped a lot. In addition when I notice the anxiety ramping up from, say, a stressful day at work... a few minutes of Box Breathing helps me to refocus and counter a panic attack before it starts. ( Box Breathing is the practice of breathing in for a 3 count, holding a 3 count, breathing out for a 3 count, then holding the out for a 3 count)"
s_1483_41,"First, sorry that it took a week for me to respond. I don't necessarily think it's a good thing. And I think that a person should seek help before resorting to suicide. But ultimately I think suicide is a personal choice and it's better to be given a solution that would cause the least potential for pain. I can't imagine attempting to kill myself, failing, and being scarred or maimed by my attempt. I understand the argument that suicide isn't only about you and it effects your loved ones as well. But that's kind of an unfair argument. Take myself for example. Every day, I wake up absolutely depressed. It takes a genuine concentrated effort to even get out of my bed to go to the bathroom. I have a therapist, I go to therapy once a week. I'm medicated. All that does nothing to change the fact that I pray every night for death. The only reason I don't kill myself is for my kids. But it's such a difficult argument. I am only remotely close to happy every other weekend when they come over. So 1/7 of my life is tolerable. The rest of the time is spent literally begging for death. So, on the argument of ""don't kill yourself because it will make others sad"", why should I continue to suffer day in and day out, just so others don't have to be sad for a day or 2. The only reason their happiness matters more than mine is because they're my kids and it's my duty to keep them from harm as best as I can. Take my children out of the equation and is literally be living only to keep my mother from being sad for a week or 2. If even that."
s_737_371,"I may be stupid, but I'm not suicidal."
s_356_91,Ive been harming myself since i was 14 and ive survived by thinking if my family. I do not want to upset them and out them through pain. I have tried to commit suicide multiple times in the past but failed. I guess lately i just dont have the energy. I only get 2 hours of sleeo each night and eat once a day or every two days. I guess i survived because deep down i know that i don't want to die even though its my ultimate desire. I also cope with music and was hoping to become a musician. Life is difficult and i feel like death is a gift. Maybe dying is too good for me. I deserve go suffer.
s_2434_462,"I dont like online or irl school So, my grades have been dropping a lot since I started online school, and Ive been stressed out a lot and stuff with my mom being upset with me, and having to attend therapy, and etc. The thing is: I dont want to go back to irl school nor do I want to do online school. With irl school, I nearly have anxiety attacks being around a lot of people especially with my vocal and motor tics (tics are involuntary sounds and movements by the way). I also cant focus a lot when it comes to irl school since I love to daydream a lot, and I end up getting in trouble. I also cant talk a lot due to selective mutism and social anxiety along with stuttering problems so presentations irl are the bane of my existence. With online school, its the same except the being around others part and etc. I get distracted a lot, I daydream, I tic all day, and it just sucks both ways. Sometimes I fall asleep too late and miss my online class which ends up in my mom texting me about an email from my Spanish teacher once again (who doesnt answer my emails at all like all my teachers dont). Im just so confused and I just want to be homeschooled or in a online school that doesnt involve a district and teachers."
s_2024_223,"i love telling jokes, listening to music and writing but lately i haven't found pleasure in anything"
s_1683_76,"Do You Want To Hear A Funny Story? For the past five or so week's my throat has been having this itch. It started out simple enough. Ironically, it happened on my birthday. My mom, dad, little brother, big sister, and her two kids were there. The cake was very beautiful. Icing roses, and amazing artwork by my sister made with some gooey candy stuff that I can't quite remember the name of. A little card, kind of like the one you would get from a business place with contact info on it, seated itself atop the cake with the writing ""Happy Birthday!"" It was a good day. One of my nephews was whacking around a foam sword, unintentionally breaking three of the most expensive things in my house. I joked with my sister that we should keep a tally on how many things would be in pieces before the day would end. She laughed and turned to face me. Because of this, she didn't see my nephew coming full force with his foam sword. Splat, the cake was mushed to a pulp. My sister scolded her son for a second. She then took away the foam swords and apologized. I told her it was nothing. She gave me a look and fixed her eyes on the cake. "" It's still good"" I said. I then proceeded to convince her along with the rest of the family that this was the case. After all, it would be a bitch to fix up another one. And, I honestly didn't think I deserved that much treatment. That was the reason I convinced them it was fine; the cake was still good. When all was good and done, I said my good bye's to my family before they went home. I was in good spirits, I didn't even notice that little tickle in my throat. It wasn't until I was laying silent in bed, moon looming over me. Swallowing, I felt this strange tingle of pain. I got some water, and then the pain seemed to settle. over the course of two days, it got worse. It wasn't pain this time, it was a tickle. After the third day, I just couldn't concentrate on anything. Because of this, I decided to see a Doctor. I thought of a bunch of thing's this tickle could possibly be. A sexual disease, flu, my smoking catching up with me, and loads more. If your curios about the first one, I just started dating this wonderful girl. You never know. Let's move on. The Doctor thought nothing of it when i told him how it felt. He ""diagnosed"" that I had a sore throat, or an allergy. I took what he had said as the truth. No reason to worry, right? It wasn't really hurting at this point, so I couldn't say other wise. Well, unfortunately, it turned back into a sore throat a day later. I decided to call in sick, my throat bothered me enough to do so. With enough sleep and a healthy dose of water, I would get over this I thought. I had no idea how bad things would escalate. That same god damn tickle turned into an itch. Sooner or later I started to scratch the outside of my neck. Then, inside my throat as well. It wasn't like before where I would swallow constantly to stop the pain. This time I used my nail's to sooth the pain in my throat. My neck for some weird reason became more of a problem as time went on as well. I started scratching a lot there too. Without even thinking, I started to scratch. When the pain would engulf my throat and neck, I would scratch. Later on, If I wasn't scratching, I could feel the pain. Over a short period of time this itch got out of hand. The pain kept getting severe, and more so as time went on. I kept scratching. From then on, the blind's remained closed since the light from outside started to hurt my eyes. With the blinds closed, it hurt less to see. Funny enough though, with the blinds closed I could barely see. I was okay with it though. I always preferred the dark anyway. After awhile, I started getting call's from work after four days of being absent; I stopped answering them. After three week's of this itch, I was kinda loopy. I knew this wasn't normal, something was going on. The problem with knowing something's wrong is when you don't quite know what that problem is. A day literally felt like a week. In the back of my mind, I even started to think that a ghost or a demon was behind this. I never thought that was the issue, though it was hard trying to keep it out of mind. Soon, it got hard to talk. At one point, I almost felt as if i couldn't say a word without pain rushing behind my sentences. My throat was completely void of any moisture. Truthfully, I didn't think it was as bad as it was, despite knowing this was not your normal sore throat. In my head, my logical calm self was in charge. It said ""Mike, you should really see a doctor soon and get back to your boss about this."" I was worried, but not as much as I should have been. After some debate in my head, I decided to call the doctor to schedule another appointment. My head started to feel clouded, and I couldn't think straight without mustering enough mentality to do so. My hand reached for my cell, it was charging in front of the alarm clock. God, when was the last time I used it? I stopped as my hand touched the phone. Something looked off. I didn't notice it at first, and I cannot comprehend how I didn't notice sooner. How often I was scratching, all I did was sleep, thought's seeming cloudy, thinking it was just the same pain I had in my throat from the very start. I had blood on my fingers. I tried to yell out ""Jesus Christ!"", but it was so painful I couldn't bear one letter. If the light from the alarm clock didn't alert me when I went to grab my phone, I don't know how much longer that stained hand would have gone unnoticed. Despite the major headache that ensued from getting up too quickly, I opened the blinds. The Light felt like a literal stab in the eyes. I didn't let that stop me from turning around to check my bed. I couldn't tell that there was a nice big blotch of blood on my bed, my vision was way to impaired too. I just stood there until I could see exactly what I suspected to see. The only thing that scared me is it was a little bigger than I first thought. I looked down afterwards to see a puddle forming in front of me. I shoved my fingers down my throat to where I had been scratching. There was an indent. I felt my neck. There was a slight, shallow indent. And from what I could see, a whole lot of blood. Things started to blur. I was absolutely terrified. I started to black out, so I tried to reach for my phone to call 911. I tripped, and landed with my face leaning against the bed. I tried my best to get up, yet due to my blood loss I kept fumbling over and over again. I really thought I was going to die right there. Although, my will power, or instinct, whatever you call it, came over me and I forced myself up. My vision was literally coming in and out as I stumbled over my bed. It felt kinda like slow motion. That's the best way I could describe it. Sounds a little dramatic, but I wasn't scared anymore; I was trying to survive. I finally got to my phone and then attempted to dial 911. I don't remember if I got it wrong once or twice, just that I wanted to cry when I messed up. Finally, the ring. * ring* *ring* *ri-* ""Hello, this is 911, what's your emergency?"" I felt so woozy as I tried to speak. When I finally did mange to focus enough to speak, I couldn't. My throat, my fucking throat hurt so immensely that I couldn't even say a word. I was dying, I could feel it. Once again, I was scared. I then screamed in my mind ""Your gonna die, so just yell. Yell as hard as you can."" I slammed the phone on the counter, Then I yelled at the top of my lungs. It was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life. After that last desperate call for help, nothing, black. I woke up in a hospital bed, light hurting my eyes. My family wasn't there yet. I looked around until I saw a doctor walking towards me, he wanted to make sure I was looking fine and stable. He then explained everything that happened to me. how lucky I was to be alive, my family should be here soon, the condition I was is, and the surgical process they went through. You want to hear the funny part of this story? During surgery, they removed a certain something from my throat. It was a small, cardboard like paper. You know the one's they give to you at business places with their contact info and all that? It was like that. There was also something written on it. ""HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"""
s_1328_30,"Realized I CANNOT do it alone Alright so I had this long thing typed out but I realized it wasn't capturing the main point haha so here is the main point. I want to eat healthy but I always cave. I will go 5 days eating really amazing good foods then go 7 days eating absolutely terrible (like a whole box of brownies and whole pizza to myself in a night type of thing). Of course I always feel so terrible about myself when I eat bad and I feel so amazing and confident when I eat good. I want to stop doing this up/down thing. I need to find a way to control myself. It feels like I need to be chewing like I need to be eating even if I am so close to puking because of how much I have eaten. No matter what I still have the urge to eat. I need help controlling myself and I need help staying on a consistent diet. Please guys any advice helps, it's starting to really impact my mental health and I'm getting somewhere I've never been before. That's why I decided I can't do this alone anymore, I need help!"
s_493_0,"I had just made it home in time to make some dinner, leftovers from last night to be exact. I tell ya, it's hard work having to file papers and do all the other stupid shit your boss tells you to do for five days a week only to have to come home to more work around the house. Me being single and all, theres nobody to help out. But honestly, the single life isnt all that bad, you dont have to do anything for anyone and you dont have to deal with the drama. Its just me, and me alone. I will admit it does get pretty lonely here, but I manage. Just turn on the TV and hope for something decent to pop up, or go for a nice run to empty my head. Sometimes, if I want to treat myself I might even send in a request to my boss for me to work at home because I'm too sick. I'm not really sick. Well, sick of all the employees I have to work with, yes. I had made it home that night, heated the leftovers, ate, and was ready to shower and go to bed. I went into the bathroom and got undressed. My bathroom isn't anything to brag about. Theres a toilet that always clogs and cabinets that are always disorganized from me scrambling to get ready in the morning for work. Directly across from the shower is the sink and mirror, which has a single long crack to the right of the mirror, webbing from the bottom corner and reaching for the upper right corner. I left the door open because fuck it, who would care? I hopped into the shower, and just as I was about to turn the water on I noticed... something. Something that, to this day, I cant explain. Through the mirror so weird that it gave me chills up my spine and almost made me jump. I wanted to scream or yell but couldn't. Through the mirror I could see into my room from where I was a figure standing in my bedroom doorway. It stood with its head almost touching the upper door frame. It had two small white eyes that looked as if it had no life or personality. In those eyes where two barely distinct pupils that just stared at me, but not just at me, through me, like it could see the innards of my soul. It was like as if it were studying me. The figure lacked any expression on his face except for the most eerie smile I'd ever seen. I'll never forget that smile it had. The smile on its face was so bone-chilling it paralyzed me. It stretched from one side of his right eye to the other side of his left eye, and in it contained a set of pure white teeth. I could also make out the most unusually sized hands. Its arms dangled to about where its knees were. I could see the texture of its skin, wrinkled with a dark gray tone from what I could make out in the dim light. The figure just stood there, motionless as I looked upon it with nothing but absolute terror and fear surging through my veins. Once I finally got ahold of myself I quickly got out of the shower and peered through the doorway and noticed that there was nothing but darkness in my bedroom doorway. I exhaled in relief. Thank god, it was just my twisted imagination. I ignorantly chuckled and thought about how maybe I should get a roommate. My thoughts were interrupted as I returned to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and screamed. It was back. Through the mirror. This time with its mouth completely open, its eyes staring at me, and still smiling. A horrible sound was coming from it, like an echoing scream, and it kept getting louder. I quickly began to break down, the sheer terror was causing me to lose my mind. As the screaming continued to get louder i began to realize that the sound wasnt coming from anything it was inside my head. The sounds bouncing all around the inside of my brain, beating it to a pulp. My eyes became fixed on the figure who I was looking at through the mirror. I went outside the bathroom and looked again through my bedroom doorway. Still no figure, but I could still hear the screaming in my ears, louder and louder. I quickly went back into the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wrap around me. I headed for the living room and grabbed my phone to dial 911. The phone was dead and I had gotten rid of my home phone several months ago. Suddenly
The screaming and the noises went away. I didn't shower that night. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee and got into my pajamas and sat up in bed completing any extra assignments from work. Hopefully the caffeine would keep me up the rest of the night until morning. What was that thing? Was I imagining it or was I just going crazy? Why could I only see it through the mirror? Just thinking about it gave me the creeps. It was around midnight when suddenly all the power in my house went out. I should have known. It was so dark. I couldnt see anything, not even the palm of my hand close up to my face. The hallway light turned on. It was flickering, on and off. I had never had any problems with the lights in this house up until now. I could hear the TV from my room. It had turned on as well. I could hear a muffled voice coming from the TV. From what I could make of it it sounded like someone was saying, Get out! Hes coming! I truly was losing my mind. As I was hearing this I didnt even move from my bed. Sweat was beginning to drip from my face, and I began to shake. The hallway light turned completely off, all I could hear was the TV. The voice was still muffled with the occasional audio distortion and continuing to say the same thing, Get out! Hes coming! The hallway light turned on again, flickering with rage. That's when I began to scream. The figure was standing in the doorway again looking directly at me, but this time I could see it without having to look through a mirror. It looked even more terrifying than before. Its mouth opened and it began to scream again. The screaming was more high pitched than before. I was paralyzed, like I was in some sort of trance. I couldnt move. I could only stare into its horrid eyes as it walked towards me and began to crawl onto my bed. I tried to use my legs to try and attempt to fight back but they couldnt move. I tried moving my arms but I had no control. They were motionless. My eyes started to twitch as the figure grasped my head with both of its hands. My screaming began to fade to a small raspy noise shooting out the back of my throat. My entire body was motionless, my heart was beating frantically. I tried to make any possible noise now but it was too late, I couldnt muster a single sound. I was a motionless body, completely vulnerable to anything. The figure had stopped screaming, but I could hear it breathing. His face was very close. I was face-to-face with this thing. My eyes began to fill up with tears making it hard to see clearly. I could feel his breathing on my face. I felt his claws running alongside my face and stomach. That's when I could feel the tearing and slashing of my own flesh."
s_319_275,"UPDATE to my story, would like more help. I posted [this](<URL>) a little while ago asking for help. I have some updates to that story and I would like to hear your opinions on what I should do. I waited a few weeks after my first post and I sent her a card that generally said I'm sorry for what I did, I will give you space if you want space, but I am here for you if you want me to be here. It was a very kind card (at least I think so): I didn't make any implications that she should reply or anything like that, it was very neutral and she could have done whatever she wanted with it. She then posts on her Tumblr a few things. First, she posts this:
""Im tired of this. I have already made it very clear how I feel. The rest I dont think I have any obligation to explain. I am done caring."" She then deletes it maybe an hour later (I was checking it pretty obsessively) and posts this:
""There is really nothing I have to say to you, because every time I do try to think of something to say, all that comes to me are words of anger. Thats not something Id like to do, unless maybe it is really necessary for you to understand. So now the only thing I have to say is that I think the best thing to do now is just to let go and move on. I have made my peace and I will let go of whatever anger there is remaining. I have no regrets, no blame, no guilt, and no will to even try to explain anymore. I would like to move on without even the tiniest things holding me back. Though I guess I do have one more thing. Saturday did not hurt me as much as you might think it did. So let go of whatever guilt you say you have. There is no reason to hold onto it anymore. I get pretty angry and start to vent things on my Tumblr, which I thought she didn't know about. I said some very mean, untrue things. I was just so angry and I was writing down whatever came to my mind. Turns out she DID know about my Tumblr and read everything. She sends me a very angry email saying things like ""obviously I was too nice, and you're taking advantage of that, you don't say these things to people to make you feel better about yourself."" She legitimately thought that I wrote it in the intent that I wanted her to read it. Her friends messages me too, doing general ""you're spewing nonsense, you obviously don't know my friend, grow up and leave her alone you don't deserve her"". I send her friend a message explaining that I didn't know she knew about my Tumblr and that I never intended for her to read what I wrote, and that I would leave them alone. She sends a message back thanking me and saying that what I've said means a lot (not sarcastically, I think she really meant it). Sorry for another wall of text. I don't really like leaving anything out. My question now is, do you think that I should wait this out and see what happens, or do you think the situation is wrecked and I should move on? She obviously did not want to repair this even before she read what I wrote, but I know that it hasn't even been that much time since our initial argument. I know everyone said to wait a few months, but I knew I would feel like shit until I did something proactive. Thanks so much for all your help."
s_1404_218,I dont want to live anymore. I hate life alot. I dont want to suicide either. I hate living in this world but I dont want to suicide. I dont want to suicide because there is no way back and I dont know what is there waiting for me after death. I dont want to suicide because I dont want to leave my family and friends behind. I dont want to suicide because I would feel guilty. But I still hate this life more than anything else.
s_485_974,I get depressed about the lost youth I once had. Time is scary.
s_1581_1025,"A glimpse of how I felt without my meds Context: I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I was in high school (i.e. 7+ years ago). I was on cytalopram for a while but it didn't do much for me. Luckily about three years ago I found medications that worked for me. The current pills I'm taking are SNRIs, the primary agent being venlafaxine. Last Monday I was supposed to go see my psychiatrist but I was making an important call during my lunch break and I forgot. I thought to myself: what harm could it do? I had some leftovers from previous appointments and I would only miss a day's worth. How callous I was. So this is how I felt: sensory overload in every turn. Every sound delved into my head like a jackhammer. I put on earphones without listening to anything but it didn't do anything. My coworker's keyboard typing which I would normally ignore was so painful that I had to leave the room for a while. Secretaries walking fast-paced here and there hit me like a gong. It resonated within me. They irritated me and numbed me to the core at the same time. I wanted to attack someone. I turned to work to maintain focus. I work as a translator at a law firm. I usually work on court decisions, briefs, complaints, etc. I'm always fascinated by the stories I read. It lessens the inevitable boredom destined to come with the line of my profession. I picture them in my head and it helps me visualize. Concentrate. I was assigned to translate a complaint a few days ago so I was working on it. I tried to calm myself as I tried to regain control over my senses and just work. It was okay for a while until I hit the word SUICIDE. A former rep director of a company being sued had committed suicide. Normally I would just look upon it with some dismay and move on. It's really unfortunate but what can I do? In this instance I couldn't just move on. My eyes were fixed on the word. I felt like I was about to throw up. I didn't know the person. And yet the word stabbed me and I was left in shock. I wanted to cry. That was when I decided I couldn't stay in the office. I had taken the meds at that point but it wasn't working fast enough. I had to go home. I feel better now. I can withstand my surroundings once more. The words don't send me into shock like before. I thought I'd share this with you while the memory and the sensations are still fresh. My mom always tells me to ""will the depression away"". I'm not just having a bad day. I can't function without these pills. Call me a weak-willed person if you want. That doesn't change the fact that I'd just crawl into a corner and do nothing without meds."
s_3062_730,"I quit teaching after 3 years (I came in through Teach First, the UK's version of Teach For America). I don't regret doing it, but my entire life became about teaching. Now i get paid more and have more time to do other things i enjoy"
s_752_87,Its really not a matter of should or shouldn't. Good or bad. If weed is the only thing that helps you why is that bad? I've tried 15 different psychiatric medications and all I got was horrible side effects. They almost killed me. I use my natural medicine and I'm happy and hungry. I cant sleep or eat without it. Weed effects everyone differently. If it makes you lazy just use it accordingly. Hope you feel better soon.
s_2479_28,"Hello :) thank you so much! I actually studied psychology in uni :) but nothing you learn, nothing can prepare you for depression until you have it. I think in 'on the road to recovery' but I have huge dips in out and out of it I think. I also like to help people, I have a 'smile a day' Motto I'm trying to keep up everyday and it's to help of make someone help every day. Helping other people makes me feel like a better person, better person means a happier me. Because depression makes me feel worthless. I usually just tell people I suffer with bad anxiety they say something and I say 'yeah it's odd isn't it, I don't know what causes it I just feel anxious now and then' people seem to give me a break more. Like people can understand feeling anxious and scared but they can't understand depression"
s_1404_1380,"I like one girl in my class but never talk to her what do I do? ( please help, hopeless situation) About 4 months ago, I started my first year in university. There is one girl in my class who I really like even though I don't know much about her. She seems to be quiet and introverted and almost never talks with any classmates, except one classmate who is her friend. I'm like this too. I almost never talk with my classmates. I'm very quiet and I only go to class for the class and to do my homework. I tried to find her but she seems to not have any social media or atleast I can't find it. I'm also very quiet because 1. I'm introverted, I have no interest in socializing 2. I'm always too tired, I have no energy for socializing 3. My social skills are bad and I have autism 4. I'm weird and socially inept and I can just feel that my classmates are uncomfortable around me. I don't really like my classmates So, she and I are both very quiet. She often sits alone and I sit alone too. I would want to have conversations with her, but in reality I never talk to her. Not before class, not during class, not after class. I don't talk to her because 1. I'm scared and unconfident 2. I feel like she wants to be left alone since she always sits alone 3. I'm probably gonna mess up anyways because im ugly and socially inept and weird 4. I don't know if she is taken or single, how can I find out? I do not want to immediately date her, I only want to get to know her but I don't know how. If I suddenly start sitting next to her during classes and talking to her, she might get uncomfortable and not want it, I don't know if this is even an appropriate thing to do and probably my whole class will think i'm a creep since normally I don't talk to anyone in the class, so if I suddenly start being social but only with this one girl, its gonna give weird signs to my classmates? I feel so hopeless about this situation. How can I find out if she is single? How can I talk / get to know her without anyone thinking I'm a weirdo since I normally dont talk to anyone? How can I make sure she is not uncomfortable if I talk to her, or sit next to her? How can I get to know her without getting friendzoned? I have no idea how flirting works and even if I learned the theory of it I would be super bad at it due to my autism and bad social skills. Basically how can I work towards making my intentions clear? How can I find out if she likes me? I'm very bad at picking up body language."
s_697_74,"I miss sleep, more than anything. I definitely didnt appreciate it enough when I was comfortably able to sleep. Now it feels like I forgot how to sleep like its some sort of skill Im lacking. My sleep deprivation has def made things 100000 times worse."
s_439_71,"What's the point? My wife came to me at the beginning of January saying she wanted a divorce (married 9 years, together for 11). I wanted to try and work things out but she was not at all interested. She was convinced that we would never work out and didn't want to 'waste her time' working on a relationship that was destined to fail. I was already in a depressed state and this did not help things along. I ended up checking myself into a hospital for most of February. During that time she did basically everything she could to abandon me. She never visited, didn't bring our kids to see me, she only called me once. I found out after I was discharged that she started a relationship with a coworker while I was hospitalized. Now we barely communicate even though nothing has been finalized. We are working out a custody agreement but it's not finished and we haven't even discussed dividing assets other than cars. She's totally moved on with her other guy and I feel more and more lonely every day. I'm sure that dating someone else right now would be a bad idea anyway but I'm feeling pretty hopeless about my future prospects. I've never been great at meeting people in general and women in particular and between work and being with my kids I don't know when I'd have time to anyway. I'm not an incredibly social person. Plus, I feel like I am a really bad dating prospect. I'm 33, soon to be divorced, I have 2 kids, suffer from depression, I'm employed at least but by no means am I wealthy, I'm probably about average in the looks department. I just keep looking into the future and seeing me alone and it's really hard to keep positive about anything right now. I'm cross posting this to r/Divorce because I don't know how much of this is normal end-of-marriage feelings and how much is my depression talking."
s_888_1741,"I have a suspicion that the girl I like is going to get back with her ex fiance... I've liked this girl (genrael term) but because of my anxiety never pursued anything in it other than friendship. I never felt that I could. She broke off an engagement this year and we started to get close... A bit closer than friends I'd guess. But now she met with her ex today for a catch up. I know I'm probably over reacting but right now my mind is racing. I can't eat or sleep. I don't know what to do, because I can't do anything."
s_1686_615,"I am really struggling with insecurities, being accepting of myself and digging myself into a dark hole... So i struggle with my insecureties and its putting a strain on my relationship... Can anyone give me any advice... I really love this girl and I don't wanna loose her...shes always on my mind. We stepped back to work on ourselves a bit. I see myself struggling to find happiness in anything. I go out and do things thinking its going to benefit me and it doesnt ever feel like i came out better than i was before. Ive had struggles with friends and their trust recently, the few friends I thought I had I notice are always doing things without me...I realized when the coronavirus started that they were asking us to isolate ourselves to slow the spread...well I noticed when we went into isolation...my lifestyle didnt change . I feel like at times I have no one to talk to and some days I just feel like giving up, I just feel like a wandering soul . I always hear about focusing on ourselves, I dont even know where to begin..."
s_2184_331,"**PSA** NEVER TAKE REMERON!!! I had really bad insomnia and was prescribed it for sleep. I weighed about 120 when I started taking it and gained like ten pounds in a month! It made me constantly ravenously hungry and back when I didn't have any eating issues, I wasn't aware of how badly all of the over eating would affect my body!"
s_1599_115,"My Wife and Kids Never Existed (Part Two) [Click Here To Read Part 1!](<URL>)
I dont know if I can take much more of this guys. My wife and my two beautiful kids were everything to me, and so far they show no promise of returning. Everyday it gets harder and harder to continue this, and the events that are taking place arent helping. The past two days have added nothing but more confusion, and I want it to stop. Let me start a little bit after my last post. I decided to go to a local bar and drown my fresh sorrows in some alcohol. Not the best choice of coping, I know, but I just needed to take my mind off things. I stayed at the bar until 9PM (I was only there for a couple hours) before they closed and kicked me out. Too drunk to drive home, I decided to call an Uber. For those who are unfamiliar with Uber, it is a taxi service where everyday people are the cabbies, and they use their personal cars. In my smaller town, its usually the same 3 drivers. However, the one who picked me up was new. She was this pretty brown-haired girl, boasting a tight blue-dress. She was chatty, but I honestly didnt feel like talking. She told me it was her first day (which was weird, usually drivers receive training on their first few days of work), asked me how my night was, the typical small-talk questions. However, she told me something I will never forget. Something that still sends chills down my spine. As she pulled up in front of my house, I exited the car. I started to walk away, when I heard her window roll down. I assumed that maybe the payment didnt come through, or something malfunctioned, so I turned around and faced her. She smiled at me and said I hope you find them! Before I could respond she laughed and sped away. She turned the corner before I could get her license plate number. What the fuck does she know about this? She has to know something, why else would she say something like that? Was this some sort of sick, elaborate joke? I got home and tried to put it out if my mind. Despite it only being 9:15PM, I decided to go to bed. I didnt sleep much. That woman was all I could think about. Who was she? How much did she know? I had no way to be sure. All I know is that this just ruined me. Instead of being sad, now I was just angry. I passed out about an hour later. I was startled awake by a call from No Caller ID. Ive always had sleeping problems (now more than ever) so I knew I wouldnt get back to sleep for another few hours. Expecting some night shift salesman, I answered. However, what the female speaker on the phone said was much worse. I hope you find them. I was angry, no I was furious. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I screamed into the phone. She hung up, and I threw my phone against the wall, and shattered it. That was two nights ago. I awoke the next morning with a sharp headache from the heavy drinking from the night previous. I just sat up in my bed, and stared for a little while. I didnt want to get up. I didnt want to leave my bedroom and find my wife not in the living room with her exfoliative face mask on, pretending to be an alien and chasing Attis and Myla around the room. After a few minutes of staring and shedding a few tears I got up and went to make myself coffee. I sat down and decided to take my mind off things by watching the news. My now old-fashioned landline began ringing in the kitchen. The automated voice began to read off the caller ID Call from: I hope you find them. I got up and bolted into the kitchen. No number was present under the caller ID, even though it usually was. I picked up the phone, my heart sank and tears began to stream down my cheeks. There wasnt another human on the line, but an automated message. An automated message of a conversation between me and my wife. It was when my wife told me she was pregnant with Myla (my first child). I couldnt listen to the whole thing. Hearing my wifes voice just hurt too much. I just sat there on the kitchen floor and shuddered; tears welled in my eyes. There were so many questions running through my head. How did they get this recording? What kind of sick person would call me and play this? I assumed it was the female Uber driver from the night before. I just decided to leave again. I couldnt stay in that house. I couldnt stay in a house I no longer felt safe in. I drove to a nearby hotel, and decided to stay there. I brought my laptop and conducted some research. I searched through every social media site and online phonebook possible. I even called the university Christina graduated from. No one had records of her existing. Not only that, but her family didnt exist either. I looked up their social media accounts and found nothing. I spent the rest of the day watching TV and working out at the gym in the hotel, doing anything I could to not concentrate on my situation. I stopped by the local liquor store and bought two twelve-packs of beer to keep me company, and to wash away the damaged emotions I have. That was last night. I dont know why this is happening to me. What the hell did I do to deserve this? Why is this mystery girl tormenting me? I dont know what to do. I just want this to end. I just want my family back. [Click Here to Read Part 3!](<URL>)"
s_2292_880,"Like others, I take a nap during the day after 4-6 hours of sleep at night. The only reason I really do this is because I like to stay up late AND wake up early. This is really the only way I could think to pull it off. I typically get to sleep around 1-3 AM and wake up at 6-8, then nap at around 12-1. It doesn't feel any different than your typical 8-hour sleep cycle. I feel well rested each time I wake up, and I get to sleep pretty easily in both instances. I've considered polyphasic sleep (because tbh, I really don't like sleeping), but I have insomnia from anxiety/depression, so I'd have to dope myself up on sleep aids multiple times a day. No, thanks."
s_1265_303,She mostly just listened. Only asked a couple clarifying questions. I didn't get emotional. But I'm on an antidepressant so I'm not as emotional as I used to be. I felt fine after the session. I'm not really in crisis. I'm in therapy at present dealing with lingering guilt over a lifetime of mistakes.
s_1155_17,"Anger is natural in some forms of depression, unfortunately. I call them 'rage-flashes' when they happen to me. Something sets me off, sometimes something as simple as an imagined sleight in my mind, and I just want to lash out. It's unfortunate when we do lash out, because then we end up hurting ourselves, or worse, the people who care about us. Sounds to me like you and your grandfather were close? Because it sounds to me like his passing had a dramatic effect on you - which death, especially the death of a family member, can and will effect you. Especially if that person is close. I recently lost my aunt to pancreatic cancer - about 3 months passed between her diagnosis and her death. It was quick, it was vicious - and it was painful. When I found out she passed, I cried. I cried hard. Her and I hadn't been that close in the past few years (mainly because of distance, living in a different state), but I remember going to her place a few times every summer when I was little. So, when she passed, all those good memories flooded my mind, and I fell apart. I got depressed. I spiraled out, and just got angry for a short time at the universe - because how could it be so cruel as to take her from my family so quickly, and with such little warning. It's painful, there's nothing you can do about it. But that pain reminds us that we're human. Being human makes us special - regardless of whatever you may think or hear - being human does make you special. And being special makes you worth it. As for you happiness, when you're dealing with so much, it can be hard to find. But it can be found. Start taking steps to get help with your depression. See a doctor, talk to friends who you can trust to seriously listen, and if none of those really appeal, come back to /r/depression, and voice your thoughts and feelings. Because, again - you're worth it. You really, really, really are."
s_697_53,"I suffer from major depressive disorder and anxiety disorder. Im constantly miserable. In my own experience, my own world I have that I call it my waves but its not waves of happiness and sadness. Im constantly sad. But there are weeks where I literally cant care for myself, I wont care so much to shower, I wont eat I wont do anything at all except think of dying but other weeks.. I walk around pretty numb from all the sadness, I just kind of survive. But the sadness is constant.. there are just different levels I guess for me. That may sound weird, or may not make sense.. Im not sure but thats just me."
s_699_19,I cry myself to sleep every night in hopes of a miracle. Nerve damage will destroy your life
s_2008_401,Working on my car successful or not. Whether I appear frustrated or angry. I'm actually happy deep down.
s_2326_564,im so hungry i havent eaten in 24 hours but I have no appetite at all. food sounds so beyond gross but my stomach is growling. i just wanna feel better
s_781_179,"Did I do this to myself, or is it just how it is? All my life Ive never really had many friends outside of school or work. The few friends I do have all come to me when they are feeling down or have a problem with life, family, significant others, etc. Ive always been alone otherwise and when I need someone there for me its like scouring a barren wasteland trying to find someone to be there for me. I have all the time in the world to help others, yet no one wants to deal with my bullshit. Ive had depression ever since my mid teens, I feel hopeless, lost, and my mind is always clouded with thoughts of suicide. Yet I keep trucking along trying to pretend like its not there. When I was younger, medications either didnt work or I couldnt cope with the the way they made me feel like an emotionless zombie. Its almost as if I enjoy the pain. I can easily put on a mask and fake it. I can be the life of the party. I can meet new people. Yet, when all is said and done, theres no satisfaction to it. Almost 30 years old and I havent done anything with my life. Struggling to survive. When Im at my lowest I cant sleep, I cant eat, Im slowly letting myself drift away. I cant outright kill myself. Instead Id rather waste away to nothing. My parents are finally proud of me for making it this far. I dont feel like its enough. Im almost done trying. Im sick of having to start over everytime something fucks up. Am I holding myself back or, is it just the way life is? Because if its the latter, I dont want to do it anymore. Im not strong enough."
s_1636_312,I just lost my fave mon. A Graveller blew up at him while I was looking for the Iron Plate in Iron Island. I'm actually sad now.
s_2705_598,"Revolutionary Road, should I just cry myself to sleep? This movie is just sad. Was trying to watch all the of director's films, Sam Mendes, and I ended up watching this one. What the fuck. This isn't entertainment, this is isn't escapism. Only reason to watch this film is to make myself feel a little better of my own life. I'm sad and I fear marriage now."
s_2402_612,"I'd say that's entirety possible. I've been more suicidal then I've been in months, got the closest I've ever got to killing myself then got stopped by a complete fucking stranger last week. Anyway besides the point, I have self harmed in the past but that's been like a year. Unless you count taking pills that aren't yours but it's only really a couple at a time and that's just really to relax me, they just send me to sleep and I've only done it twice in the past week."
s_1750_1,I need concentration not energy. But I'll look into it.
s_1404_398,"I think anhedonia is the CAUSE of depression, low productivity and other issues. I have been depressed for 4 years now. I have been unable to enjoy anything in life. The first 2 years of my depression were fine, I was still a motivated, hardworking student. But now that I'm still unable to enjoy anything, I'm growing tired of life. What's the point in working hard if you never enjoy anything in life anyway? My productivity has been going downhill and I might not make it this year in university. I crave to enjoy something, which is why I get distracted off working hard."
s_1899_203,"I cannot believe TwoXChromosomes victim blames. [ Sorry in advanced for upset slightly whiney ranting. This was my post on TwoXChromosomes for reference:
<URL>
I went there to tell people, yes roofies do get slipped into your drink no matter HOW careful you are. It DOES happen and to be careful. What everyone made it about was, you're a liar, it's your fault, you clearly drank too much, you have no idea what you are talking about. Can we just talk about victim blaming for a second? IT'S WRONG. My story doesn't add up? I'M SORRY I WAS FU****G ROOFIED. I don't exactly remember everything. Actually no, I don't remember ANYTHING. I have a doctor's note stating what happened? Nope, OP is still lying. I state there have been rare cases of BAC raising with roofies? NOPE, who cares about the 2% that it happens to, she just drank too much. Stop lying OP. I state I don't EVER go above my limits. I DON'T get drunk. I am a responsible 23 old who wants to have a good time and not get drunk? Nope, I'm lying because I clearly don't know how I behave. I asked my friends how much I drank? Nope, they're lying to me too. Or the hospital is lying. I probably wasn't roofied. I'M JUST FLAT OUT LYING AND IT'S MY FAULT. Ok, back to talking about Victim Blaming. It's not right. It's just not. Telling a girl it's her fault for getting roofied. She doesn't know what she's talking about? That totally makes the experience... I can't even think of the word- not real? Derogatory? I don't even know right now. On that note, I didn't know where else I could possibly post to just let girls know that shit like that does happen. But I don't even feel like my message got across. And now I feel shittier than ever. I KNOW it wasn't my fault I got roofied. I KNOW I only had two drinks. I double, TRIPLE checked with the people I was with. I also KNOW myself better than anyone else. But you know what, now I FEEL like it was my fault. I FEEL super guilty. I don't know where else to post or where else to get support. It's the worst feeling in the world not be believed about something like this. I feel like just screaming my lungs out. I KNOW I didn't over drink. SOMEONE PLEASE FUCKING BELIEVE ME. tldr; had two drinks, got roofied. Posted on TwoXChromosomes to let ladies know this shit does happen and asking them to be careful. Got Victim Blamed to hell- delegitimizing my experience and I feel like shit. Edit: Yes, it's fine let the downvoting begin. They're just internet points for goodness sake."
s_1452_746,"A lot of my fears were self-esteem fears in the past. Not being good enough to find real love. Not finding happiness in my life. I've found most of those things, and now I am a father, and all my fears are for my children now. It's the most rewarding and most terrifying thing ever."
s_2625_97,"I want to become more organized but to-do lists stress me out. So I have issues with getting things done, and putting tasks off definitely makes me more depressed, yet I can't bring myself to actually do them. I feel this weird euphoria when I PLAN on doing something and then DON'T do it. Then over the next few days I feel horribly guilty, and to get over that I put off more tasks to feel better, and so on and so forth, and I remain pretty depressed. What can I do to slowly become more organized? I want to train my brain to feel good after completing tasks, but generally the pay off isn't as strong when I complete things like homework or updating my resume or cleaning my house. I also really want to be one of those people who loves to-do lists and can write a manageable to-do list and actually stick to it. I basically just build up the task so much - i.e. I need to clean my apartment. I know I need to do it, but I think, whatever, it's clean enough, and I put it off. Then it gets worse, and I start feeling guilty, but I tell myself it's fine. It keeps getting worse, and I stubbornly refuse to clean it at this point. I tell myself, ""I'm going to do this when I feel like it,"" and I never do. Then it's so awful the guilt basically consumes me and it takes me practically 5 hours to clean my place and afterwards I despise cleaning so much that I let it get to that state continuously. It's just exhausting, and it is definitely allowing my depression to continue. Does anyone have any advice? Thank you!!"
s_1601_321,"I have tried many times but I lose interest immediately. I don't want to do anything with myself, because everything else is boring, which reminds me of the fact that I can't feel pleasure anymore, which in itself is quiet depressive. I don't know. I wish I had another brain. A brain without depression and/or anxiety and/or that stupid personality disorder. I feel restricted in my actions, thoughts and emotions. It really sucks. And I understand where you're coming from. Life objectively wasn't so good until three and a half months ago, when I decided to change it. Well, I haven't changed. That really sucks."