Serious Depression

ehT

:dog:
is a Contributor to Smogon
To be clear, I do acknowledge that it gets better. What pisses me off specifically are people who just mindlessly regurgitate that without understanding anything about how that happens for depressed people. My "better" is being able to get up and get to work on time every day then having a good cry in my car at the end of it. I'm proud of that, but I still don't see how it's better than death. Fuck the entitled people who refuse to see this and expect me to fight forever no matter what then think I'm a piece of shit for wondering what the point of it all is. Who think I owe it to them personally to stay alive. "It gets better" sounds less like a message of hope from these people and more like a demand.
 
Last edited:

Funbot28

Men say I taste like sugar but ain't shit sweet
is a member of the Site Staffis a Forum Moderatoris a Community Contributoris a Tiering Contributoris a Contributor to Smogon
Moderator
So I wanted to share a story of mine that is kind of related to the topic of discussion here. This is something very personal and endearing to me and is really something I dislike talking about irl but it might be easier to disclose here...

About a year ago I developed an eating disorder for who knows what reason. Previously, my relationship with food had always been somewhat normal where I had instances in my life where I kinda ate unhealthy and then ate regularly afterwards. However, at the age of 15 I was diagnosed with scoliosis where my doctor advised me that I needed to wear a back brace every night to correct my spinal cord. At the time, I was a bit overweight as I never really moved much and wasn't eating the most healthiest of things. It was then where my doctor recommended me to lose a bit of weight so that the treatment would be more effective. Now knowing my obsessive nature I kinda took this advice a bit too overboard and started training consistently (cardio and muscular training, but mainly cardio) a minimum of four times a week and greatly reduced my calorie intake. At first, the results where showing greatly, being able to lose about 50 pounds in under a month. However, the issue was this it was not stopping just there, by the time I hit 16 I had lost about 85 pounds from my original weight which concerned my doctor. Even though people were recommending me to stop training as much and start eating a bit more I didn't listen as I always felt that I was "too fat". I turned 17 and I had reached a weight of just above 90 pounds (my highest was about 190 before) and I still felt disgusted with my body. My doctor soon realized that I was anorexic and asked me to join a help center to cure my illness. I felt that I did not have a problem and kept going on the destructive path of keep losing weight as I was never satisfied. I had school to deal with at the time being in a competitive program and not willing to post-pone my education for a problem I didn't see was actually there.

I was about mid-17 where my mom and I got into a heated fight like usual as she was concerned of me not consuming anything throughought the day. These arguments would get so intense that I told her to "fuck off" and went in my room to cope with the misery alone. I was beginning to feel light-headed and before the time I went downstairs to grab something to eat I fainted and tumbled down the stairs. I was brought to the ER where they accessed that I was at a critical low weight and the doctor was even surprised that I was still alive.... I was immediately brought to an Eating-Disorders clinic when I was brought out of the hospital where I had to give up half my courses just to be in the program. Over there they had a strike system in which you did not reach a certain weight gain each week you would get a strike. Well, I hit my third strike immediately and kicked out of the program as I was very stubborn at the time. I felt that I disappointing myself and my family to not want to get better, yet my greatest fear was actually getting healthier.

I hit 18 and the same rituals were being done throughout the days (starving myself and fighting with my mom), till one day I actually allowed myself to indulge in an apple (something I forbid myself from doing before) and thats when a domino affect started. Each day I had started to "binge" more and more as I feel it was my body's response of me starving it for so long. The weight was being put on rapidly and I started to hate myself and drown myself in guilt as the days went by. I am currently so scared to look at the scale to see what I have done to myself and I keep repeating the same cycle everyday as the discomfort of binge eating brings comfort in a weird way. Each day is getting harder and harder and I feel I am digging myself up in a hole as I start to exude my anger onto everyone around me that care for me because I am so frustrated with myself. This has led me to develop a sever case of depression as even all the meds that my doctor currently prescribes me do nothing to relinquish the emotions.

I try to tell myself everyday that this is just a phase and things will get back to normal, but I am scared if that normal means me being on the verge of dying oncemore. I don't know if I will ever be satisfied or accepting of myself again after all that has happened....

I am sorry if this is the wrong thread to post this but I needed to get this off my chest.
 

JustoonSmitts

I draw stuff for a living
is a Top Artistis a Contributor to Smogon
I know that my story is going to be very minor, but I just need to vent out my frustration right now.

Yesterday may have been the single worst day of my life. It started okay, with me getting some Switch Joycons and finding out I could get Super Smash Bros Ultimate yesterday at 10 pm.

To give some context about what happens next, my wife and I started volunteering for an animal rescue group in El Paso. My wife asked me to help out this one puppy with broken legs that needed some x-rays to see if she could heal. I said yes and took it, thinking everything was going to be okay after we got the x-rays. Then.... the doctor pulled me aside to look at the x-rays. It wasn't her legs that were broken, but her entire back was broken beyond repair. He really wanted to help me save her but it seemed to pain him that we had to put her down due to low quality of life. I asked the group what to do and after much debate and thought, we thought it was best that she was put down. So I had to watch a puppy die yesterday that I thought I could help. I know there wasn't anything I could do, but it still hurts a lot. I still see that dog's face today.

So afterwards, I think, "well, at least I can go hang out with these other Smash players today and get my pre-order", right? WRONG. I lose my wedding ring yesterday, too. I told my wife and she was understandably angry with me. We spent all of last night emotionally drained (especially me) looking for my wedding ring, the ring that symbolizes our bond and love. No luck at all. I looked everywhere in the house. No trace of it. It had to have been there, I only put it on this afternoon because I rushed out of the house to help a puppy only to watch it die in front of me. We looked until 11 that night. I wanted to just fucking die right there because I felt like I failed the only woman who ever loved me. It hurt a lot. It hurt that I was this careless and this stupid. I wanted to commit suicide, but I haven't told my wife yet because I didn't want to upset her more. I really thought I was going to pack my bags tonight and move out.

Amazingly (and by amazing, I mean a goddamn miracle), my wife was a little bit understanding about my side because of how my day went. She even tried comforting me after I spent all of last night crying because I felt like the most worthless husband ever. I still do, but she says she still loves me. I hope that that's true because I feel like I've killed trust between us and she'll resent me forever for this. Well, if I can't find it, we'll talk about a cheaper replacement, but it won't be the same. I feel awful today. I really do. I'm still looking around the house for the ring in the hopes that it will turn up. Wish me luck.

So yeah, yesterday was the worst day I've had in a while. It was so bad, I had suicidal thoughts. I thought my marriage was over after that. My wife says she still loves me, but I have a lot of doubt about that because who could love someone this careless and this stupid? I still feel worthless today.

Sorry if you read all of that. I just needed to vent. Thanks for listening.
 
I know that my story is going to be very minor, but I just need to vent out my frustration right now.

Yesterday may have been the single worst day of my life. It started okay, with me getting some Switch Joycons and finding out I could get Super Smash Bros Ultimate yesterday at 10 pm.

To give some context about what happens next, my wife and I started volunteering for an animal rescue group in El Paso. My wife asked me to help out this one puppy with broken legs that needed some x-rays to see if she could heal. I said yes and took it, thinking everything was going to be okay after we got the x-rays. Then.... the doctor pulled me aside to look at the x-rays. It wasn't her legs that were broken, but her entire back was broken beyond repair. He really wanted to help me save her but it seemed to pain him that we had to put her down due to low quality of life. I asked the group what to do and after much debate and thought, we thought it was best that she was put down. So I had to watch a puppy die yesterday that I thought I could help. I know there wasn't anything I could do, but it still hurts a lot. I still see that dog's face today.

So afterwards, I think, "well, at least I can go hang out with these other Smash players today and get my pre-order", right? WRONG. I lose my wedding ring yesterday, too. I told my wife and she was understandably angry with me. We spent all of last night emotionally drained (especially me) looking for my wedding ring, the ring that symbolizes our bond and love. No luck at all. I looked everywhere in the house. No trace of it. It had to have been there, I only put it on this afternoon because I rushed out of the house to help a puppy only to watch it die in front of me. We looked until 11 that night. I wanted to just fucking die right there because I felt like I failed the only woman who ever loved me. It hurt a lot. It hurt that I was this careless and this stupid. I wanted to commit suicide, but I haven't told my wife yet because I didn't want to upset her more. I really thought I was going to pack my bags tonight and move out.

Amazingly (and by amazing, I mean a goddamn miracle), my wife was a little bit understanding about my side because of how my day went. She even tried comforting me after I spent all of last night crying because I felt like the most worthless husband ever. I still do, but she says she still loves me. I hope that that's true because I feel like I've killed trust between us and she'll resent me forever for this. Well, if I can't find it, we'll talk about a cheaper replacement, but it won't be the same. I feel awful today. I really do. I'm still looking around the house for the ring in the hopes that it will turn up. Wish me luck.

So yeah, yesterday was the worst day I've had in a while. It was so bad, I had suicidal thoughts. I thought my marriage was over after that. My wife says she still loves me, but I have a lot of doubt about that because who could love someone this careless and this stupid? I still feel worthless today.

Sorry if you read all of that. I just needed to vent. Thanks for listening.
You’re understandably very distressed right now, but take a second to think about this:
If your wife lost her wedding ring, would you divorce her? I’d hope the answer is no, and seeing as she is your wife and loves you as much as you love her, she would obviously reciprocate the feeling.

Don’t worry too much about it, the ring is just a symbol, it isn’t the marriage itself.
 
Last edited:

JustoonSmitts

I draw stuff for a living
is a Top Artistis a Contributor to Smogon
You’re understandably very distressed right now, but take a second to think about this:
If your wife lost her wedding ring, would you divorce her? I’d hope the answer is no, and seeing as she is your wife and loves you as much as you love her, she would obviously reciprocate the feeling.

Don’t worry too much about it, the ring is just a symbol, it isn’t the marriage itself.
I know I wouldn't. I love her too much. And she still loves me

I still haven't found it, but we have a backup plan. You helped me calm a bit, Leonard. Thank you for your kind words.
 

Celticpride

Got no anger, got no malice
is a Top Team Rater Alumnusis a Smogon Social Media Contributor Alumnusis a Super Moderator Alumnusis a Community Contributor Alumnusis a Smogon Media Contributor Alumnus
This is going to be a bit scattershot, and I hope a bit cathartic.

First, for framing, I’ve never really struggled with depression proper. Generally speaking, I have an anxiety disorder that occasionally leads to bouts of depression. This has been ongoing since my senior year of HS, when the impending life change of the "real world" threw me for a loop, and I started worrying about all sorts of stuff to the point of fairly regular panic attacks. This continued into my freshman year of college, and frankly I was a mess. Looking back, it’s amazing people tried to be friendly with me then, because I think I was a pretty miserable, negative, depressing person to be around.

I transferred schools eventually, and I really took advantage of my fresh start. I commuted, which helped quite a bit. And things got better. My grades drastically improved, and I finally started letting myself be happy. For a time, at least. Eventually I started applying for internships, and that process brought up a lot of old anxieties, although they were noticeably less severe. But those old feelings still bubbled up more than I’d like. I still persisted, kept my grades high, and hustled and networked all over the place. It did pay off, I’ve worked multiple paid internships at different companies, the most recent of which is with my dream company. My dream company extended me a full time offer, and I took it without even thinking (no regrets about that).

So it seems like I’m heading in a good direction. But the past year has frankly been crap, and I feel myself slipping more and more. In the past year, I almost lost my sister due to a surgical complication (she’s fine now), dealt with the passing of several friends or family friends, and most recently my dad was diagnosed with cancer, which I am still processing (it is, in the scheme of things, a cancer with a very high survival rate and they caught it super early).

So where does this leave me? For all I’ve grown and changed since I had my first real panic attack, sometimes I wonder if I’ve changed at all. And I have changed, for sure. But the nagging thing is, no matter what I do, the depression and anxiety are always going to be there. They just are. There’s things I do to control my stress and depression, of course. Exercise and medication has helped a ton, and I know which activities help me stay calm (listening to music, tv and gaming are the big three). For the longest time, though, I thought this would be something that I overcame completely and would be part of my past. As time goes on, it feels less a part of my past and more just a part of who I am. Most recently, I’ve begun to accept that it’s ok to not be ok all the time.
 

Raidx

Banned deucer.
This is going to be a bit scattershot, and I hope a bit cathartic.

First, for framing, I’ve never really struggled with depression proper. Generally speaking, I have an anxiety disorder that occasionally leads to bouts of depression. This has been ongoing since my senior year of HS, when the impending life change of the "real world" threw me for a loop, and I started worrying about all sorts of stuff to the point of fairly regular panic attacks. This continued into my freshman year of college, and frankly I was a mess. Looking back, it’s amazing people tried to be friendly with me then, because I think I was a pretty miserable, negative, depressing person to be around.

I transferred schools eventually, and I really took advantage of my fresh start. I commuted, which helped quite a bit. And things got better. My grades drastically improved, and I finally started letting myself be happy. For a time, at least. Eventually I started applying for internships, and that process brought up a lot of old anxieties, although they were noticeably less severe. But those old feelings still bubbled up more than I’d like. I still persisted, kept my grades high, and hustled and networked all over the place. It did pay off, I’ve worked multiple paid internships at different companies, the most recent of which is with my dream company. My dream company extended me a full time offer, and I took it without even thinking (no regrets about that).

So it seems like I’m heading in a good direction. But the past year has frankly been crap, and I feel myself slipping more and more. In the past year, I almost lost my sister due to a surgical complication (she’s fine now), dealt with the passing of several friends or family friends, and most recently my dad was diagnosed with cancer, which I am still processing (it is, in the scheme of things, a cancer with a very high survival rate and they caught it super early).

So where does this leave me? For all I’ve grown and changed since I had my first real panic attack, sometimes I wonder if I’ve changed at all. And I have changed, for sure. But the nagging thing is, no matter what I do, the depression and anxiety are always going to be there. They just are. There’s things I do to control my stress and depression, of course. Exercise and medication has helped a ton, and I know which activities help me stay calm (listening to music, tv and gaming are the big three). For the longest time, though, I thought this would be something that I overcame completely and would be part of my past. As time goes on, it feels less a part of my past and more just a part of who I am. Most recently, I’ve begun to accept that it’s ok to not be ok all the time.
I can relate to that first paragraph completely. I was diagnosed with dysthymia (long-term depression) and i too suffer from social anixety (was diagnosed with selective mutism which was the root cause) . I've never had a job a day in my life (23 in a few weeks) and I didn't go to college, though that's mainly for a different reason but anxiety definitely plays a role in that as well. Last week I saw an administrative judge regarding my disability claims or whatever that's called, and ultimately I was declined Disability which is very unfortunate because I really can't work due to my anxiety and depression (meds haven't helped). Anywars social anxiety is very unforgiving and best of luck to you in the future!
 

McGrrr

Facetious
is a Contributor Alumnus
You have probably heard of the adage that "anything worth doing is worth doing well". This should really be "anything worth doing is worth doing to the best of your ability at the time". Sometimes, the bare minimum is the best that you can do at that time, but a small positive is a positive nonetheless.

My partner has a history of anxiety and depression (and is diagnosed with OCD and high functioning autism). She relapses sometimes and has not been doing well recently. It can be exhausting for me (to care for her), and for the rest of her support system, not least because her feeling that she is a burden becomes a vicious cycle.

I try my best to remind her that progress does not happen in a straight line, and that she needs to be patient with herself.
 

UberSkitty

cuz I got banned from gen 8
is a Smogon Social Media Contributoris a Contributor to Smogon
Well I haven't posted here in a while to might as well start on a higher note. I've found shiny hunting to be a surprisingly good coping skill, being able to take your mind off things and just wait for your reward. That of course has its downsides like staring at the screen and can be slightly anxiety provoking at times, but I still find it helpful.

Now for the more serious shit. In November, I had a mental breakdown. This consisted of being easily frustrated, little motivation to do a lot of things, and constant suicidal thoughts. When I talked to my psychiatrist about this, I was almost immediately sent to the hospital in fear that I was on the brink of suicide. I had to wait three days in the hospital waiting for a mental health unit to open up. When one opened up I was sent there as an inpatient and stayed there for two weeks.

In the mental health unit I remained quiet at first, trying to use this new society as an opportunity to discover who I really was without the pressure of staying "in character" like I often did at school. I quickly discovered that that was indeed the real me, but the problem was that I hated the real me. However, the things I was taught there about coping and whatnot proved to be little use to me, especially since the therapeutic activities were only in the morning and the rest of the day there was little to do. Things I did for the rest of the day included watching TV (which got boring quickly), play mortal combat with the other guys (which I have no experience or interest in), and playing cards, but the best part is that we were occasionally let off unit to go to the gaming room (where I learned to play pool), and weight lifting room. But getting to go off unit was only every couple of days. The other upside is some of the people I met, with other teenagers dealing with depression and some pretty cool staff. But otherwise I found the experience to be pretty useless. Also the food was atrocious.

After being let out of the mental health unit, I was assigned to have to go to a partial group therapy program the next week, which ended up lasting three weeks. I did find this to be a little more helpful, meeting even more cool people and there being more group therapy activities, albeit some of those activities got pretty repetitive and ineffective. I also met some really annoying people there which I had to hold myself back from breaking out in anger and punching them in the face. However, it was definitely a better experience.

Overall, I ended up spending six weeks out of school. Apparently I was the center of attention while I was gone, so I was asked a lot about where I had been. I hadn't told anyone in school about my depression so I simply said I was sick and the name of said sickness was too complex for me to remember. As for schoolwork some of my teachers were pretty lenient about it, but some weren't, so I wasn't satisfied with a couple of my grades at the end of the semester (I got a 70 in gym). One other detail is that I had to give up hosting PU Fall Seasonal when going to the mental health unit since personal electronics were not allowed (which only added to how boring it was). Since then I have transferred to a new therapy and am now on what is my fifth therapist in total.

So why bring this up now? I fear that I'm on the brink of having another breakdown and I have no idea what to do. My motivation has led to me struggling to do schoolwork and most notably get out of bed in the morning, which has led to me missing first-period classes for most days of the past few weeks. Furthermore, my frustration has also risen, with me getting easily frustrated with both myself and friends, and even refraining to doing things like punching walls scratching myself with my nails. Finally, the constant suicidal thoughts are back, with my brain finding so many random things that could be used for reasons as to why I should kill myself.

Overall, I'm just not sure what to do. in my last therapy session I was stupid and said they were thoughts of just death in general and not suicide, so I don't know if I should bring it up in my next therapy session. Another possibility is to tell my mom about it. But the stressful part about all of this is the fear that I'll get sent back to another mental health unit, with my anxiety telling me it would probably be even worse conditions than the last. There just seems to be no win-win situation in this for me.
 
So I feel like reading this thread has really made me think if I should share my story or not. I'm known as that one guy who shitposts about dinosaurs on a pokemon forumboard? or the "Falkneraptor Mongoliensis", I'm probably the last person you would think would be suffering from any form of depression.

Life has been hard over the years due to multiple factors that have been making my life miserable. I usually spend time with my cat and my dogs as a coping skill. My three dogs Eme, Wulfric and Bugsy, and a little cat named Pepper who is my main source of comfort. Talking about them really works to make me happy. Recently a horrible event happened to both me, and my cat. Of course only being 19, and sharing my place with my sister I don't have the most modern house. I split my bill with my mother to live out in a rural area, but I have a great backyard so the animals have room, but we also have lots of wildlife. Before I lived here I did live with my parents.

Life with my parents was hell. No they weren't abusing me or beating me... More that my parents were abusing eachother. It got so bad when I was around 16, I did attempt suicide through overdosing, but I'm honestly glad I was saved. It wasn't fun though as I had to get my stomach pumped. Back to the parents, I even recall when I was around They would get in constant arguments, often resulting on slapping eachother, tearing objects out of eachothers hands, etc... I Clearly remember the time when I had to call the cops on my own father, after I heard my mother let out horrible screams asking my brother for help. No she wasn't stabbed or anything crazy but it scared me shitless. Due to the incident, my parents ended up divorcing, and I had to either choose one of my parents or get my own place with just me, my sister and the dogs. (Bugsy was not alive yet when we first moved). Recently Pepper was attacked by a bobcat after sneaking outside the house, costing almost 2k worth of vet bills to keep her alive which was already a huge problem to start with. Having a large bill to cover, An annoying roommate who never helps keep the place clean, A Large bill to pay off, a half dead cat, my laptop broken, and my parents still settling on legal problems Things went downhill really fast.

No, I don't have plans to try and kill myself again, I'm just unsure what to do in this situation with so much crap going on, it's making my life miserable. I've been really tired, procrastinating on my work and art and I don't know how to handle it.
 
TO ANYONE THAT THINKS THEY ARE DEPRESSED, READ THIS


Most people would tell you to find something you're passionate for and to give the maximum of your time into it, but sometimes you just can't.

Instead of saying that, I'll ask you to find something you want to improve at. It can be anything ; an action, a behaviour, or something directly linked to yourself. It can be anything, but it has to be something you can easily and quickly see your improvement at it.

The goal is to spend your time improving at something. Because depression deals with your self-esteem, finding something to improve at and seeing your own improvement at it, may make you looking at yourself a better way, and that is one of the most important keys at curing depression : looking at yourself differently. And if you're able to find something that you can spend time trying to improve at it, it's already an improvement, since you had nothing to spend time on for yourself before, so it's already a good point!

If you can't find one, you may try this option : meet up with someone of the opposite sex and ask him/her what he/she finds satisfacting to look at in anyone. Maybe you'll have to do sports, crafting, or anything ; just start doing something. Then, just start trying to be better at it ; if you've never done it, just try once, since doing something for the first time is already an improvement at doing it, so just try it once if you've never done it!

Hope that'll help
 

ehT

:dog:
is a Contributor to Smogon
TW: Suicide

Hello again

I've attempted suicide twice in the last couple months, first on 25 February then again on 8 April. I was hospitalized on both occasions after my family found me. I wasn't able to follow through the first time because I couldn't stand to feel myself die, but the second time I was ready. Being dragged from the edge against my will was the most humiliating experience of my life. I resented my loved ones for forcing me to stay in this world, to keep living this life. It felt so cruel that I was robbed of my right to take my life into my own hands just to postpone people's grief. I went to therapy, I took the meds, I used the skills. I played the game and lost. What the fuck else could you want from me? From my point of view just three weeks ago, nothing could make the constant pain worth it. I was sick of waking up crying then waiting for a couple hours for the wave of anxiety to subside, so I can face this mad, dying world yet again. I was sick of feeling mediocre at best and insisting to others that I'm happy because I hate attention. I was terrified of other people for the power they have to use me whenever they please, and I was terrified of myself for giving them that power. Most of all, I despised people who insisted they saw something for me past the horizon that I didn't, as though I was delusional for not having hope instead of the other way around.

I am currently in a residential facility focused on recovery. I've done a lot of crying, and I've shared things that I haven't shared with anyone. Having people there to hold your hand through the worst times that you know have been there too is a relief that I didn't realize I needed. I've grown a lot in the week and a half I've been here, but it remains to be seen whether I'll be ready to face the world again when my time here is done. I want to give it another try, though. Thanks for listening
 

ehT

:dog:
is a Contributor to Smogon
TW: Suicide

Hello again

I've attempted suicide twice in the last couple months, first on 25 February then again on 8 April. I was hospitalized on both occasions after my family found me. I wasn't able to follow through the first time because I couldn't stand to feel myself die, but the second time I was ready. Being dragged from the edge against my will was the most humiliating experience of my life. I resented my loved ones for forcing me to stay in this world, to keep living this life. It felt so cruel that I was robbed of my right to take my life into my own hands just to postpone people's grief. I went to therapy, I took the meds, I used the skills. I played the game and lost. What the fuck else could you want from me? From my point of view just three weeks ago, nothing could make the constant pain worth it. I was sick of waking up crying then waiting for a couple hours for the wave of anxiety to subside, so I can face this mad, dying world yet again. I was sick of feeling mediocre at best and insisting to others that I'm happy because I hate attention. I was terrified of other people for the power they have to use me whenever they please, and I was terrified of myself for giving them that power. Most of all, I despised people who insisted they saw something for me past the horizon that I didn't, as though I was delusional for not having hope instead of the other way around.

I am currently in a residential facility focused on recovery. I've done a lot of crying, and I've shared things that I haven't shared with anyone. Having people there to hold your hand through the worst times that you know have been there too is a relief that I didn't realize I needed. I've grown a lot in the week and a half I've been here, but it remains to be seen whether I'll be ready to face the world again when my time here is done. I want to give it another try, though. Thanks for listening
As an addendum to this, it does the soul good to rebuild yourself. It never helps to feel like you know everything, and that's true about yourself, too. I'm doing that here. I'm realizing that I don't know myself nearly as well as I thought I did. I just knew the parts of myself depression myself let me see really well, through the distorted lens of depression. Learning to be vulnerable with myself and actually feel my feelings has showed me that I'm so much more than the cynical smartass I forced myself to be. As an adult I've felt like I have to compensate for my innate personality to get along in work/school/relationships. I act all outgoing and sassy when in reality I'm actually quite shy, because it's a quick and easy way to get people to not hate me. I act cynical and bitter despite being something of an idealist, because being suspicious of everyone means that no one can hurt me again. I don't notice when I'm sad because I've trained myself to ignore my feelings so I can get up in the morning, rather than ask myself what I could do to make getting up in the morning worth it. I thought these were organic changes, part of being an adult, but in reality they were immature, kneejerk responses to pain.

It's been easy for me to get complacent recovering from depression because it's been part of me for so long that it's hard to tell where my illness ends and my true self begins. Those lines have become more well-defined with time, though, and I can paint a clearer picture of myself against the haze of depression. The false personality I created for myself was just my first attempt at doing that. Strangely enough, being diagnosed with PTSD is what helped me realize this. My trauma is recent enough for me to remember the time before it, and remember the person I was back then. It makes me do the same thing depression makes me do, which is intellectualize my pain in the hope that overriding my feelings will allow me to never be hurt again. Being book-smart makes it really easy to use my left brain as a crutch, as well. But emotions don't work that way. They're there whether you like it or not. I think I'm beginning to make peace with that.

I'll never be the same person I was before depression or before trauma, and I need to be OK with that. I remind myself now that I am never a finished product, but a perpetual work in progress.
 
Last edited:

lighthouses

Chasing after dreamers in the clouds
is a Tiering Contributor
Its been a full year since ive had my last panic attack
I still have quite a bit of issues to work out and i dont think i necessarily feel 'well' but knowing that progress was made feels a little heartwarming.
It doesnt matter how old you are or how long youve been struggling, just take it nice and slow at your pace, any progress is good progress.
Stay safe friendos ❤
 

brightobject

demod me
is a Top Artistis a Forum Moderatoris a Community Contributoris a Smogon Media Contributor
Moderator
After what, three months (!?) of nothing but repeating cycles of intense emotional damage and repair, I feel so emotionally drained that apathy is all I can summon up regarding most things on the itinerary. I feel like I had a short breakthrough moment this morning while I was exercising where I was able to self-actuate for like one minute but the moment passed and now I'm back in this weird state of quasi-existence that I've been in for the last couple of days. The last weeks have been massive rollercoasters of incredible highs of contentedness and lows of intense shame and self-hatred, but now I think everything's just washed out and all I feel is this vague sense of being trapped. I can't enjoy myself because I continue to disassociate during almost every waking moment to overanalyze my (relatively petty and simple) problems, which means I end up isolating myself from everyone because the small group of friends I do have are all very busy and /or remind me of shit I don't want to be thinking about. Obviously if I'm isolated that gives me even more time to overthink my situation, leading to a negative feedback loop. The people I truly need to talk to (other people involved in my problems) are either dealing with other, far more pressing issues of their own or simply cannot handle talking to me about our issues (understandable). Not to say that they (friends not involved with my issues directly) wouldn't be willing to talk about my issues but I'm far more comfortable talking about these things with my therapist (weekly appointments are basically the only thing I look forward to in the week). At the same time there is almost nothing else I would really rather talk about, so most of my conversations with people just end up being both of us obliquely referencing our respective mental health issues (as you would expect college sophomores during finals are all going thru some shit or other). Not that realizing everyone else is just as or even more depressed than me is really something that helps me out. I've also made plans to stay here for the summer but it's hard to stay positive when I'm not even sure if it will work successfully as a detox program.

tl;dr: i am completely emotionally exhausted and think of nothing but giving up and becoming a shut in all the time and how awesome that would be. Meanwhile all my daily activities just revolve around me trying my best to stop thinking said thoughts, as I know from prior experience that I do not do well in isolation anyway.

^vent / context paragraph. Obviously these feelings are ephemeral. Hopefully I will feel better later today, or this weekend, etc. but it's difficult to visualize such things of course. At present I'm going to attempt to channel these antisocial tendencies into some more positive self-care and activity. My issue at present is being able to reckon with the fact that almost everything I do is just distracting me from thinking about my problems (there has to be a better word for this that doesn't intrinsically frame them as bad things, just matters that need a change in perspective to stop being stressors. Anyone get what I'm saying?) and not out of any intrinsic enjoyment (at this current moment in time). Idk if this is seen as an improper use for the thread but I'm just using this post to try and set out some goals for myself that have some kind of visibility and accountability (....lol).

Things I will try to do in the next couple of weeks:
-exercise more (?) - I do one hour of exercise daily but I could probably do this in the evenings as well. One of the few things I have control over in this scenario is how my body can change and function. Not that I am out of shape, but I could do better. Core workouts maybe.
-watch less youtube, use my phone less. Play less videogames. Screens hurt my eyes and also make me want to die because I am more acutely aware of how sedentary I am.
-read more books. Good idea generally. Have been reading a book on Korean literature to try and get in touch with my heritage some.
-go outside more. I hate being in my room despite spending almost all of my time inside it, as it exacerbates the feeling of being isolated and trapped. Will make a point of spending one hour outside a day.
-Maybe meditate or some shit? I have no idea.

Regardless I have a job interview in a couple of hours so hopefully that goes well. I can see my mood improving a lot just from talking to people I don't know and hopefully making a decent first impression. Appreciate everyone posting here and sharing their own struggles, makes me feel a little more comfortable with sharing mine. Extremely rambly but I hope you can see this for what it is

e: the pacing of this thing is actual torture. Anyone know some good writing resources lol
 
Last edited:
Hey I am back after *checks notes* 4 years.

Now that I am done with school I have time for hobbies, and I am re-interested in the Smogon Metagames once again; problem, last time I was active here I was in a terrible mental state that was partially connected with me being fixated on stuff that lead to me be in serious depression and quite frankly the worst period in my life, it kind of feels like I am playing with fire with Pokemon battling here, but I also enjoy it (which I need because I am in a very different emotional state right now, rather not get into that) , I am looking I guess for ways to maintain a good balance to maintain my mental health, idk.
 

lighthouses

Chasing after dreamers in the clouds
is a Tiering Contributor
Hey I am back after *checks notes* 4 years.

Now that I am done with school I have time for hobbies, and I am re-interested in the Smogon Metagames once again; problem, last time I was active here I was in a terrible mental state that was partially connected with me being fixated on stuff that lead to me be in serious depression and quite frankly the worst period in my life, it kind of feels like I am playing with fire with Pokemon battling here, but I also enjoy it (which I need because I am in a very different emotional state right now, rather not get into that) , I am looking I guess for ways to maintain a good balance to maintain my mental health, idk.
I had a similar issue during spl last year. I was in a horrible mental state with tons of bad things happening around my life, which then translated into my gameplay which led to me losing a lot and then feeling bad about it.
What i try to do nowadays is just play when im feeling well and try to distance myself for a bit if i feel like its affecting me in a negative way.
Having friends in the community is nice too, so you can just hang and nerd about with pokemon stuff without the pressure of playing if you dont feel like it.
Gl!!!
 

UberSkitty

cuz I got banned from gen 8
is a Smogon Social Media Contributoris a Contributor to Smogon
It's times like this that I realize how ridiculous my brain works. To put it simply, PUPL just happened and I wasn't bought. I'm trying to justify how shitty I feel about it. Maybe it's because it meant more than just getting bought that mattered so much to me. Maybe it's because I had a time of hope since all fingers were being pointed at towards me getting bought, having been bought last year for (even if for 3k) and in the mock draft for 6k, being voted to be sold for most money in the room poll (even if it was jokingly), and the entire discussion chat talking about how I will supposedly get bought. But then again, maybe it's just me being a sore loser. Either way, I'm having extremely mixed feelings about this despite how unimportant it should be in my mind. I'm getting senses of anger and depression, with ranges of thoughts between wanting to punch something or somebody, start trolling, cry, and even commit suicide. Yeah, that's how extreme even the smallest of things like a fucking online draft mean to me. I'm taught all of these "DBT skills" in programs, and as much as I try to make them work both now and on other occasions they just aren't helping. This only frustrates me even more.

But putting the PUPL draft aside, I also wanted to mention that since my last post here, I did end up getting sent to the mental hospital, this time for my longest stay, that being for 3 weeks. I was really stressed out the Monday I was sent to the ER, and decided to not go to school that day before having a talk with my therapist about what to do next, her being the one that sent me to the ER. I have mixed feelings about the experience of my time there, as well as having mixed relationships with both the staff and other patients. After that I was immediately sent back to school, feeling no different. 3 weeks later my guidance counselor pulled me aside, her being one o the only staff to know about my depression, and asked me some questions about how I was feeling. I was sent back to class, and afterwards I ran into her after in the hallways and she offered to guide me outside, where my mom was waiting. I was resent to the ER, and this mental hospital stay was my shortest, being only 9 days, but was a solid experience. This time my team didn't make the same mistake about sending me right back to school so I've been in partial for about 3 weeks, and am supposed to be going back to school later this week. I don't know if I can handle it, but I also know I need to make up work that I've missed to get my grades up, since 11th grade is such an important year. The suicidal thoughts are still there, and as I said above they can come up for the stupidest reasons. I'll stand by the subway ledge as the train comes in and just think "is this the day?". I'm just waiting for summer at this point, not just to get out of school, but to see what ends up happening. Also waiting for PUPL to be over so I can feel at least a little better about that.
 

Users Who Are Viewing This Thread (Users: 1, Guests: 1)

Top