Carl Nicola
Member
Hi
For some reason I was thinking about this forum today. I used to post here a long long time ago (10 years ago?). I'm really glad to see it's still around. My life has been quite a roller-coaster since then, and I just wanted to share my story with you.
Let me start off by saying I'm a 32 year old lad from Sweden. I've been dealing with loneliness and depression since high school. I had a decent job, even made a friend at work! He moved to a different part of the country to study, and I followed. I got into a 3 year program in the same city. We lived together for a while, it was great! I got my own place after a few months, and this made it a lot easier for me to withdraw into my own little bubble of safety. I want to say I tried to connect with the people in my class, these were mostly adults after all, but I could've tried harder. It didn't take long for me to start feeling out of place, just like in high school. It was so much easier to rush back home after class or on breaks rather than staying and socializing. My studies went to honeysuckle, procrastination and no motivation, the failures piled up, and I just didn't care. I kept going to classes for show.
After a year, I officially dropped out. I wasn't allowed to continue due to all the classes I failed. Again, I didn't care. I spent the next few months doing... nothing. My mother got furious when she found out, for good reason, and snapped me back to reality. I got a job, and got some of my confidence back. I decided to go back to school again in the summer, do it right this time. So after 9 months of work, I got admitted to the same school, the same program. And I went, for two weeks. Then one day, I remember it well even though it was a completely ordinary day, I was walking to school. Half-way there I stopped. I turned back, and I went home. I don't know what happened, but I just could do it. I went home, locked the door, and that was that. I told myself it was just for a week, I needed a break from life. Well, the week turned into another week, then the week turned to a month, the month turned into another... I lied to my parents, even my friend, about being a happy student. Eventually my friend told me he was moving. That hurt me a lot, but at least I didn't have to lie him straight in the face anymore. I could now enjoy complete isolation.
I lived like this for 2 years. My daily routine consisted of getting out of bed and getting on the computer until I went to bed. I slept during the day, during the night, 8-10-20 hours. I could sleep in my clothes. It didn't matter. The only time I left my house was a 5 minute walk to the store. I wonder if the people working there knew what was going on? I was such a mess. I barely had energy to shower. I didn't shave, I didn't wash my clothes, they went in a giant pile on the bedroom floor. Dust was everywhere, I rarely cleaned. I traveled home few times a year to visit my parents, they pretty much demanded it, and I somehow managed to keep up the facade. I dreaded the time every week I knew my mom would call, because I had to come up with lies. My friend called me one time, I ignored it. He messaged me asking if he could live at my place for a week due to work. I had to tell him straight up "no". He said he understood, but I've never felt so low in my life.
I had quite a bit of money saved up, and I was living off those savings, but I knew it wouldn't last. I could pay my bills and buy food, but time was a complete blur, it went by so fast. At this point I'd completely stopped caring about my life or any hope of trying to turn it around, and I told myself I would end it when money ran out. It was very comforting to have that way out, but the closer it came, the harder I tried to postpone it. I started selling off stuff, like my musical instruments, just to be able to pay one more month of bills, surviving a little longer. But I was delaying the inevidable. One month I had to choose between paying my bills or buying food. I chose food. Now the prospect of ending it was becoming very real, and I could feel the clock ticking. I was crying, I was shaking, I was waiting every day for someone to barge though the door, for reality to come crashing down.
Still, it took months until things started to happen. My phone stopped working first. I got emails from my parents, and I had so come up with some obscure lie, but I knew I was on borrowed time. People came knocking on my door, but I hadn't picked up my mail in months so they thought I didn't live there. I didn't even have money for food at this point so I was literally starving, thinking of ways to kill myself. One day I woke up and saw a mail from my mother. "call me now". I knew that was it. I spent that whole day pacing in my apartment. The doorbell rang and I looked though the peephole. It was my dad. I thought about not opening, about jumping from the window, but I opened, and I broke down in tears. It was such a relief knowing the lies were over. The IRS had called them, saying they couldn't find me. My parents had called the hospital I was supposed to practice in. They had no idea who I was, and yeah, that was that.
My dad took me home, and thus began the long long road to recovery. I told my parents everything about my loneliness and my depression all the way back to high school. They never knew. Why would they? That's the thing about depression, you become an expert at hiding it. They were baffled at how long I'd managed to hide it. I was so good at lying! But let me tell you, seeing your mother break down in tears, thinking it's her fault, that is not a sight I want to see ever again. Visiting your family for christmas thinking that "this will be my last christmas with you because I won't be alive next year". I thought my life was over. I let it go so far I couldn't see any way out but to take my own life. I was so weak and ashamed of what I'd become, reaching out and getting help wasn't an option. In my mind, it was too late. I lost those years of my life, but you know, it's a learning experience. I hit absolute rock bottom of depression, survived, and came out stronger. I am NEVER gonna let depression cripple my life like that again.
Fast forward 4 years later, and I'm back on my feet. It took hard work, psychiatrists, medicine, and two loving parents. Been working full time for two years, got my own place that I love, got a car. I've been going to the gym for three years and sticking to it, I'm in the best shape of my life! I'm so happy and thankful to be alive, there's so many things IN this life that I love. I never really shared this story, not in its fullest, but I want everyone who's suffering the way I did to know that it is NEVER too late to get your life back. Do it sooner rather than later in my case, reach out and get help.
Still dealing with loneliness, that's a hard nut to crack. I'm not afraid to do things on my own anymore, and I'm not as embarrassed about it as I used to be. But there's a longing for a relationship, people to share my common insterests with. I've never had that, but I want it. I got in touch with my friend again (actually, he got in touch with me!) after over a year of no contact. I told him everything too, and he was so cool with it. I'm very thankful to have a friend like that. We don't have much in common anymore, so we don't see eachother much, but I won't go into all that here, I feel like I've written enough.
If you read all that, thank you for listening! I'll be sticking around
For some reason I was thinking about this forum today. I used to post here a long long time ago (10 years ago?). I'm really glad to see it's still around. My life has been quite a roller-coaster since then, and I just wanted to share my story with you.
Let me start off by saying I'm a 32 year old lad from Sweden. I've been dealing with loneliness and depression since high school. I had a decent job, even made a friend at work! He moved to a different part of the country to study, and I followed. I got into a 3 year program in the same city. We lived together for a while, it was great! I got my own place after a few months, and this made it a lot easier for me to withdraw into my own little bubble of safety. I want to say I tried to connect with the people in my class, these were mostly adults after all, but I could've tried harder. It didn't take long for me to start feeling out of place, just like in high school. It was so much easier to rush back home after class or on breaks rather than staying and socializing. My studies went to honeysuckle, procrastination and no motivation, the failures piled up, and I just didn't care. I kept going to classes for show.
After a year, I officially dropped out. I wasn't allowed to continue due to all the classes I failed. Again, I didn't care. I spent the next few months doing... nothing. My mother got furious when she found out, for good reason, and snapped me back to reality. I got a job, and got some of my confidence back. I decided to go back to school again in the summer, do it right this time. So after 9 months of work, I got admitted to the same school, the same program. And I went, for two weeks. Then one day, I remember it well even though it was a completely ordinary day, I was walking to school. Half-way there I stopped. I turned back, and I went home. I don't know what happened, but I just could do it. I went home, locked the door, and that was that. I told myself it was just for a week, I needed a break from life. Well, the week turned into another week, then the week turned to a month, the month turned into another... I lied to my parents, even my friend, about being a happy student. Eventually my friend told me he was moving. That hurt me a lot, but at least I didn't have to lie him straight in the face anymore. I could now enjoy complete isolation.
I lived like this for 2 years. My daily routine consisted of getting out of bed and getting on the computer until I went to bed. I slept during the day, during the night, 8-10-20 hours. I could sleep in my clothes. It didn't matter. The only time I left my house was a 5 minute walk to the store. I wonder if the people working there knew what was going on? I was such a mess. I barely had energy to shower. I didn't shave, I didn't wash my clothes, they went in a giant pile on the bedroom floor. Dust was everywhere, I rarely cleaned. I traveled home few times a year to visit my parents, they pretty much demanded it, and I somehow managed to keep up the facade. I dreaded the time every week I knew my mom would call, because I had to come up with lies. My friend called me one time, I ignored it. He messaged me asking if he could live at my place for a week due to work. I had to tell him straight up "no". He said he understood, but I've never felt so low in my life.
I had quite a bit of money saved up, and I was living off those savings, but I knew it wouldn't last. I could pay my bills and buy food, but time was a complete blur, it went by so fast. At this point I'd completely stopped caring about my life or any hope of trying to turn it around, and I told myself I would end it when money ran out. It was very comforting to have that way out, but the closer it came, the harder I tried to postpone it. I started selling off stuff, like my musical instruments, just to be able to pay one more month of bills, surviving a little longer. But I was delaying the inevidable. One month I had to choose between paying my bills or buying food. I chose food. Now the prospect of ending it was becoming very real, and I could feel the clock ticking. I was crying, I was shaking, I was waiting every day for someone to barge though the door, for reality to come crashing down.
Still, it took months until things started to happen. My phone stopped working first. I got emails from my parents, and I had so come up with some obscure lie, but I knew I was on borrowed time. People came knocking on my door, but I hadn't picked up my mail in months so they thought I didn't live there. I didn't even have money for food at this point so I was literally starving, thinking of ways to kill myself. One day I woke up and saw a mail from my mother. "call me now". I knew that was it. I spent that whole day pacing in my apartment. The doorbell rang and I looked though the peephole. It was my dad. I thought about not opening, about jumping from the window, but I opened, and I broke down in tears. It was such a relief knowing the lies were over. The IRS had called them, saying they couldn't find me. My parents had called the hospital I was supposed to practice in. They had no idea who I was, and yeah, that was that.
My dad took me home, and thus began the long long road to recovery. I told my parents everything about my loneliness and my depression all the way back to high school. They never knew. Why would they? That's the thing about depression, you become an expert at hiding it. They were baffled at how long I'd managed to hide it. I was so good at lying! But let me tell you, seeing your mother break down in tears, thinking it's her fault, that is not a sight I want to see ever again. Visiting your family for christmas thinking that "this will be my last christmas with you because I won't be alive next year". I thought my life was over. I let it go so far I couldn't see any way out but to take my own life. I was so weak and ashamed of what I'd become, reaching out and getting help wasn't an option. In my mind, it was too late. I lost those years of my life, but you know, it's a learning experience. I hit absolute rock bottom of depression, survived, and came out stronger. I am NEVER gonna let depression cripple my life like that again.
Fast forward 4 years later, and I'm back on my feet. It took hard work, psychiatrists, medicine, and two loving parents. Been working full time for two years, got my own place that I love, got a car. I've been going to the gym for three years and sticking to it, I'm in the best shape of my life! I'm so happy and thankful to be alive, there's so many things IN this life that I love. I never really shared this story, not in its fullest, but I want everyone who's suffering the way I did to know that it is NEVER too late to get your life back. Do it sooner rather than later in my case, reach out and get help.
Still dealing with loneliness, that's a hard nut to crack. I'm not afraid to do things on my own anymore, and I'm not as embarrassed about it as I used to be. But there's a longing for a relationship, people to share my common insterests with. I've never had that, but I want it. I got in touch with my friend again (actually, he got in touch with me!) after over a year of no contact. I told him everything too, and he was so cool with it. I'm very thankful to have a friend like that. We don't have much in common anymore, so we don't see eachother much, but I won't go into all that here, I feel like I've written enough.
If you read all that, thank you for listening! I'll be sticking around
