No one belongs here more than you.

[storiesbyjuly]

I don't know how to explain myself. I've spent the last few hours submitting to bursts of sobs in between taking psychology exams. I suppose that's a start. From any perspective that isn't my own, it would seem I've changed my life. Internally, I still can't breathe. I have certain caring family, friends who tell me they love me, and a boyfriend who would give me the world if he could just get his hands on it. I have classes to keep me occupied. Yet, I wake up every morning in my skin, breathe air into my lungs, see the world through my eyes and all I want to do is hold my head under the running water filling my sink and never see again.
I'm not selfish enough to kill myself. Why live through darkness, just to end it when you finally see glimpses of light? Despite pulling through misery, self inflicted and beyond, my whole body still feels hollow. I look at the man who loves me, and I want to explode. I've loved before. I loved blindly with the innocent heart of a child, and I was torn to pieces. I was ruining my body and my already damaged mind with substances that should've kill me, that I wanted to kill me. Then.
My father died.
I thought it couldn't be possible to fall any further into the endless rabbit hole. I don't like to be wrong. By the skin of my teeth I managed to live.
Over a year and a half later I found some peace and some sanity found me.
I can't love me. I never have. So find myself in tears. I only ever feel a connection to myself when I'm in despair. Without it, I'm a nervous and socially inept product of the pop culture revolution. I know nothing, when you know nothing you have to be charming. I, am not charming.
Professionals tend to call what I have clinical depression. Medication, or at the very least therapy, is recommended. Medication made things worse. I won't do it again. Therapists have been in and out of my life since the ripe age of 7. They've become a warped kind of relative who I haphazardly update with my day to day self-loathing. I don't care for it.
Here I sit. Empty.
Say what you want about the bits and pieces I've lain out for you. Judge, empathize, scold, anything. I just need contact.
Talk to me.

 

[cheaptrickfan]

Professionals tend to call what I have clinical depression. Medication, or at the very least therapy, is recommended. Medication made things worse. I won't do it again. Therapists have been in and out of my life since the ripe age of 7. They've become a warped kind of relative who I haphazardly update with my day to day self-loathing. I don't care for it.
Here I sit. Empty.
Say what you want about the bits and pieces I've lain out for you. Judge, empathize, scold, anything. I just need contact.
Talk to me.

You are not alone.

A few years ago, I was on an insane meds rollercoaster at a particularly turbulent time of my life, under the care of professionals, yet all it did was make me feel crazier. I finally stopped taking all of them and quit my ineffective therapist and read up on Cognitive Behavior Therapy and tried to put my "healing," "recovery" or whatever you want to call it, into my own hands.

Most of all, I write and paint, and try to exorcise all of that loneliness and despair in some creative, meaningful way.

Then I come here to connect. I'm glad you've found this pace, I hope that it helps you somehow.


(((((storiesbyjuly)))))

 

[Von Blown]

Yeah taking drugs probably won't help someone that depressed and lonely.

I have some medical problems that drive me crazy, all I do is think about them all day.

I pray alot and ask the lord to help me get by.

I have to drive a 165 miles to see a specialist. I'm on medicade so you have to go to the hospital they tell you to, to have it paid for.

The doctor didn't have any answers for me, but before I went in the hospital my car was making funny noises I thought it was going to break down. When I came out and started home it was running okay.

One of my greatest fears, that I dream about is being stranded somewhere a long ways from home and not being able to get back. I felt so good the car was alright, I actually got a good nights sleep, for the first time in months when I got home.