Niantiel
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 6, 2014
- Messages
- 587
- Reaction score
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I've fought it for years.
It's really only gotten worse over time.
About the only thing I haven't tried is proper recommended help.
I had a bad experience on medications when I was younger. It left my memory of that time in my life sort of blotchy. Eventually my parents consulted my grandparents whom told them to have me taken off of whatever I was put on. They switched around different medicines for a while, and eventually I came to coherency enough to tell them to stop and I totally withdrew from seeking help. That was 13 years ago....
It really is like a cancer, or something that keeps on growing. It'll take everything from you if you let it. With some people it even takes them too in the end.
I want to be able to feel better. I want to be able to control myself better. and I want to know what the fresia is actually wrong with me.
It's quite maddening. You lose interest in things that used to make you happy, and all of your emotions just flip off like someone cut the power off from your circuit box.
But you want to be able to feel something, anything, to reassure yourself that you're still alive and this isn't some sort of a crazy dream you're having. So you run around like a maniac trying different things to jolt some sort of a feeling again.
Finally you flip the right switch, and the first things back that you feel are pain and sadness. and you suddenly remember why you ran away. So you run away again, back into the darkness where even though you don't understand what's going on you feel safer there.
and it goes back and forth like that for years, and years and years.
It's kind of like a game of which thing is scarier than which.
No one can really beat something like depression by themselves, I don't think.
It's really only gotten worse over time.
About the only thing I haven't tried is proper recommended help.
I had a bad experience on medications when I was younger. It left my memory of that time in my life sort of blotchy. Eventually my parents consulted my grandparents whom told them to have me taken off of whatever I was put on. They switched around different medicines for a while, and eventually I came to coherency enough to tell them to stop and I totally withdrew from seeking help. That was 13 years ago....
It really is like a cancer, or something that keeps on growing. It'll take everything from you if you let it. With some people it even takes them too in the end.
I want to be able to feel better. I want to be able to control myself better. and I want to know what the fresia is actually wrong with me.
It's quite maddening. You lose interest in things that used to make you happy, and all of your emotions just flip off like someone cut the power off from your circuit box.
But you want to be able to feel something, anything, to reassure yourself that you're still alive and this isn't some sort of a crazy dream you're having. So you run around like a maniac trying different things to jolt some sort of a feeling again.
Finally you flip the right switch, and the first things back that you feel are pain and sadness. and you suddenly remember why you ran away. So you run away again, back into the darkness where even though you don't understand what's going on you feel safer there.
and it goes back and forth like that for years, and years and years.
It's kind of like a game of which thing is scarier than which.
No one can really beat something like depression by themselves, I don't think.