BeautifulEchoes31 wrote:I don't suffer from depression technically but there have been moments in my life where I haven't felt like living. I've been pretty much a shy loner for most of my life and the very few friends that I have are all on the internet which is the place I feel most comfortable socialising. It's very hard sometimes and I have felt suicidal on occasion but I do seem to work my way out if it and it helps that I can access resources on the internet.
I think the internet is a good thing for this type of situation, you hear so much about the negatives that people don't realise the positives and I feel that you have given such a positive response in what you are stating.
There is also nothing wrong with being a shy person. I don't feel that you are a 'loner'. You are a unique person in this world, so whoever does come into contact with you, even if it is over the net then you should be proud that they have met you.
If chatting in places online is comfortable for you then that's okay too, I prefer too myself. I don't have many friends myself where I live, all of my friends or my 'true friendss' are in a different city and I use places like this to communicate. It's not about having a huge crowd of aquaintances, who you know and what you know. It's the individuals you get to know who are the most genuine people and who are the most honest and trustworthy.
You know I've never felt suicidal, I've had depression slightly in the past but I really really respect you for being so honest and open about how you actual feel. I thank you for that.
what's wrong with effexor? i take effexor and topomax, i like topomax a lot because it works as an appetite suppresant as well, but unfortunately my insurance doesn't really cover it and i was contemplating going off of it and just taking effexor
Everyone that I've had talked has had bad side effects. It would cause these brain zaps and your brain would feel like it's being zapped. I finally got off it and it all went away. I just wouldn't reccomend it to anyone.
dreamsatnight wrote:
what's wrong with effexor? i take effexor and topomax, i like topomax a lot because it works as an appetite suppresant as well, but unfortunately my insurance doesn't really cover it and i was contemplating going off of it and just taking effexor
Everyone that I've had talked has had bad side effects. It would cause these brain zaps and your brain would feel like it's being zapped. I finally got off it and it all went away. I just wouldn't reccomend it to anyone.
thanks for letting me know... i personally have not had any problems with it, but then again i have a generic form / substitute of it. maybe that's why?
*looks at bottle*
it says venlafaxine. i know my insurance wouldn't pay for the effexor, so i was given this instead
That's probably a good thing. It was just so bad. It didn't help at all with my depression either. But the meds work differently for everyone. I researched the side effects and withdrawals online when they started happening and it seemed to be fairly common with effexor.
Hi there I’m ping.
I’m 24 years old and this is the most honest I’ve ever been…
I’ve been meaning to write this for ages. But a blank Microsoft word document would always stare me in the face. But I was looking back a poem that I wrote and a message that a new friend sent me. I thought I ought to explain myself. Even now I don’t want to admit this to the world. I haven’t even been honest to the majority of people in my life; my friends and family.
I suffer from depression.
I was diagnosed in Feb 2007 when it hit me that I wasn’t happy. It was my mum’s anniversary, it’s was about 10 years since she past away and I hadn’t finished university either. I didn’t have a clue where my life was going. I hated myself, I hated feeling like this. I just wanted to crawl in to bed and never want to wake up again. I just wanted the whole world to go away. I felt like dying. I didn’t want to cope living anymore. I even thought about throwing myself in front of a car or topping myself with pills and alcohol. I wanted to cut myself because I would rather cope with the physical pain than the emotional and mental pain (even though I hate the sight of blood and I can’t stand pain).
I wasn’t going out anymore, even to this day 7 months later; I prefer the safety of my home. I don’t go out much, only if I really have to, say for example the doctor’s or my counselling sessions. I stopped going to my part time job for a month because I couldn’t do my job properly. I don’t go out to parties or nights out anymore (not that I went out often before that); but now I haven’t been out since February. I’ve missed so many friends birthdays…
It easier for me to ignore the world, anyway going back to February it was my mum’s anniversary.
I hadn’t finished university even though it was my second attempt. I even told a white lie to everyone that I had finished but there was a paperwork error. Everyone assumed I finished university. You see is it’s only my sister and me; my sister didn’t go to university. So everyone was proud of me that I got into uni. Even though it was only a graphic design degree (It wasn’t anything like medicine or law), it was still a degree. You see since my mum passed away my education was the one thing I always wanted to do well it. I pass my A Levels, did my foundation - moved on to my degree. I choose to go to Coventry University because there was also a Hong Kong exchange program but also I could continue to flat share with my sister but as well get away from Birmingham. It was meant to be a compromise. First year was fab, I was getting good marks. I had high hopes.
The second year I got to go to Hong Kong. I wanted to go because I hadn’t been for years and the last time I went was to take my mum’s ashes back to there. I had gone with my foster carer but I didn’t get to see any of my relatives apparently my granddad was ill so he couldn’t come to see us. We were living on the island, my granddad and gran living in the new territories on the main land. My foster carer refused to take us. I don’t remember the reason why; all I remember was my crying.
Anyway this was my chance to go to Hong Kong, to experience it by myself, learn something new; but most of all see my granddad and grandma and my cousins. Cause I knew if I hadn’t taken the opportunity I would have regretted it. In a way I loved it, I made new friends, travelled, saw my relatives and other stuff. But in another I think it will always be one of my biggest regrets/mistake. Going to Hong Kong was my biggest downfall. It where I was home sick even though it was my second home, I wasn’t coping with the work load it couldn’t engage my brain. TWO BIG THINGS HAPPENED IN HONG KONG AS WELL…
1. I had a Chinese girl friend that was really nice and welcoming. She was really nice and friendly. One night my roommate went out for some reason I didn’t, I stayed back at the student halls. Anyway to cut a long story short, my roommate and one of my American friend’s slapped one of the British guys that was on the exchange with us. When I found out the next morning I was shocked but at the same time I didn’t want to know. I think my roommate didn’t want me to worry as well. Anyway I was in his roommate in his room when he started to talk to me thinking that I knew. I wish he hadn’t told me… he told me that his roommate (I won’t mention his name) got drunk one night and forced himself on this Chinese girl and it was her first time, and he didn’t even use a condom! And he got her pregnant. I was so angry! I couldn’t believe it. Here he was in Hong Kong as a guest and to treat somebody like that who’s been nothing but kind. Really got me angry and upset; It’s bad enough if you get pregnant if you’re not married but if you get pregnant by a western guy (The little shit even had the nerve to go to Thailand whilst she was having the abortion, this happened after the next part)…
~Anyway to cut the story even shorter we went up stairs to study but I was still upset. I heard that he was back and I stormed downstairs myself, as soon as he opened the door I started kicking and slapping him. I WAS SO ANGRY… I remember afterwards I was sitting on the stairs shaking and crying. I’m not a violent person but that’s the one time I leashed out, but it was enough to scare me. I didn’t want to be a violent person. I thought being a girl I would be different from my dad. I certainly didn’t want to be that person.
2. Incident two was I heard my dad was going to get remarried, through my cousin on msn. I was so shocked and sickened by the thought. I keeled over in shock, I was numb. I Froze I couldn’t do anything. I locked myself in the toilet crying and retching. My friend had to bust my out…
You know the whole load of crap started because of him. My whole life has been one bad rollercoaster…basically when I was a little girl. I think I must have been 5 or 6 or even 7 I’m not sure. My dad was always getting drunk and gambling. He was always verbally abusive. But then he started hitting my mum.
~ He would beat her, hit her, and slap her in front of me and my sister.
~ I sure one time he would kick her as well.
~ I remember the one time I was ill from school. I was at home. My dad was in a pissed of mood. So he decided to dismantle all the doors to make me worse. But then he used the hammer to my mum’s knees…
~ another time he burnt every single one of mine and my sister’s baby photo’s (even to this day I have only a few that I’ve managed to savage from my relatives)
~ Then he tried to hang himself from a bedroom window, except for he couldn’t do it, he just fell cause he was so heavy. But it made him angry…
~ He was never physically violent towards me and my sister, but the one time scarred me for life, even to this day. Basically I’ve always been creative and you know when you little you make collages using Argos catalogues well I was doing that… I was cutting out a page, when my dad came in angry… He snatched the scissor of me and held them to my neck and threatened to kill me with them if I didn’t stop using them…
My mum is the other side of this unhappy tale. She finally left him and asked for a divorce. We moved away from Corby from one woman’s refuge to another. She finally took my and my sister to Birmingham. I’ve lived here the majority of my life now. But it wasn’t to be a happy ending. If anything it was just the beginning.
I don’t she ever mentally or emotionally got over what my dad did to her. She didn’t really know much English so she didn’t have anyone to talk to. She couldn’t talk to her two daughters; we understood but didn’t understand… I suppose that’s why after while she started going mad. She started saying she was hearing things, hearing voices… My mum was diagnosed with schizophrenia. This resulted in me being in foster care the first time…
My granddad came and took my mum to Hong Kong I went with her, but cause my sister had only just started secondary school she stayed in England in foster care. We stayed in Hong Kong for about six months but I think I knew we had to come back sooner of later because of my sister. My mum always preferred Hong Kong it was her home, it was a hard decision but she choose he daughters…
She came back to England, later I would start secondary school myself. But I was in year eight… I mean my mum would always tell me off and give me a slap on the wrist. But this started getting worse. They say it’s a vicious circle. That if someone hits someone, they hit someone else (well not in all cases) but in this case my mum did. I used to turn up black and blue on my legs. My friend’s told me that I had to tell someone. And so I did… I told the teachers and they told social services. And so I ended up in foster care again with my sister.
Foster care wasn’t the most happiest place for me, I found it hard because of the first time I was in foster care; I stole from one of the foster carer’s daughter (I can’t blame anyone but myself, yes my friend was an influence but at the end of the day I’ve got to be responsible for my actions) But the second time I was in foster care I don’t think my foster carer’s daughter ever forgave me. She judged me the second I stepped through the door. I ended up being in foster care for three years. Those three years were strained to say the least; my mum had a relapse she went back into hospital. She then came out months later, but she was still unstable. I didn’t want to see her like this it got to the point where I refused to see her. My foster carer’s daughters couldn’t understand that. I was always the closest to her, if any thing my mum spoilt me… I used to walk down the shops with her and she would talk to herself, then she would start swearing in Chinese. That’s bad enough but she would start swearing in English…
Anyway my mum wasn’t getting any better… and that’s one of the biggest regrets. NO BEING THERE FOR HER… during the time I was in foster care. My mum went missing. Even then I knew that I wasn’t going to see her again. They police came and went, a week later; they told me that she dead. She dead… I don’t think it sunk in until I saw it on the news. My mum had committed suicide; she drowned herself in Broad Street Canal. I was never going to see her again… I was never going to get the chance to tell her I’m sorry. I was never going to get the chance to tell her that I love her. I don’t even know what she did in her last week of her being alive. And I’m never going to know.
I never did properly talk about how I felt about my mum dying or about anything about my dad. I would be sent to counselling sessions but I would never go to more than one session. I never talked to my sister… it seems we have an unwritten rule that don’t talk to one another about personal problems. I mean don’t get me wrong or anything we’re close and all, we love the same things but when it comes down to personal stuff I’ve always told my friends. Rather than my sister a) because when we were in foster care when I got my GCSEs I thought I did really good getting 1A 1B rest were Cs I mean my mum had past away the year before. But I got home. My foster carer said I could have done better and her daughters looked down at me at my results. My sister didn’t defend me. I remember crying when they went out for a meal (my sister as well) without me. b) There’s a secret about my mum and dad that’ll I don’t want my sister to know, so I’ll be taking that to my grave c) Talking to my sister is like talking to a brick wall. I don’t get any response from her. I mean don’t get me wrong I love her to bits but I don’t get from her any response, no reassurance. I just get a muted silence.
I mean I’ve talked to my friends but sometimes I feel like they don’t understand unless they’ve gone through it themselves. I mean I love my friends and they’ve always been there for me; to talk to do and to listen to. But I’ve felt for the past few months that I can’t talk to them. Everyone else is moving on with their lives and I’m stuck in this black hole.
Each day that went by I felt like this blackness was eating away at me, it didn’t help that I had to pretend in front of my sister. University and my degree was the one thing that kept me going that kept me wanted to prove people wrong. I wanted to achieve something… and for me to fail at the last hurdle. I feel like a failure. I feel shame.
My counsellor says I feel responsible for everything that happen, I feel responsible for not being there for my mum…
I got put on anti-depression tablets this year because I had a break down. I wasn’t happy. Even now today I’m not 100% me. So much has happened in my life even stuff I haven’t mentioned. Things like have an appendix operation, slipped on my wrist causing me to have tendonitis, I couldn’t write or type for months etc.
The doctor was going to put me on sleeping tablets… he didn’t of cause because I’m already on anti-depression tablets, Irritable bowel syndrome tablets (to keep my food down and stop me feeing bloated) and sickness tablets. So instead he gave me a tablet the combined the anti-depression and sleeping component. I’ve had trouble sleeping some nights I would stare at the walls in the dark and not sleep. The only way I would sleep was to knacker myself out.
I got to the point as well where I don’t want to talk to my friends because I don’t want to talk to them. I would ignore their calls. Ignore their Facebook messages. I can’t tell you the last time I actually went on MSN to chat to someone. I don’t want to talk to them because I feel like they would judge me. Or either that I think they have better things to do that listen to me.
AND People who say are you’ll going to be okay; especially at work I find really patronising. Sometimes I want to scream at them. They don’t understand that I’m not me. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the bubbly person side of me again. That scares me.
What scares me even more if I go back to university for the third time and fail again… I don’t know what it would do to me… I don’t even want to think about it.
I say I don’t hate my dad but I think in same way I will always will. I can never forgive or forget. Even to this day I haven’t had a relationship. I can’t let anyone emotionally get close to me. Will I ever get married, have kids? I don’t know. I can’t think that far…
AND so I got a counsellor this year. I’ve been to every session apart from one or two where I didn’t have the energy to leave the house or to talk. Though it seems that talking to a complete stranger is easier… I find it that he won’t judge me. It one of the reasons why I write this and post it on here this board, but it won’t go anywhere else like facebook. On this board no one really knows me well enough.
Ping x
Last edited by pijeechinadoll on Tue Mar 29, 2011 8:05 pm, edited 2 times in total.
♥LUv roSWEll♥lOvE MaX eVAns♥LoVe Liz PaRKeR♥luV bEiNg a DrEamR♥LuV FANFICS♥
I've pretty much have suffered from depression all my life, I just thought it was normal--and just recently when to the therapist this year and they gave me some meds for my depression/anxiety but first they made me sleepy and then made me feel like I was sick. I seriously did not eat for almost a week, I just stopped taking them completely and stopped going to the doctor.
My older sister told me once that when we were younger...I was like five or six years old, that when I would play with toy guns I would always pretend to shoot myself (mainly in the head).
But I remember growing up--being eight yrs. old or so--and I'd always do this, I would be washing dishes and I'd get to the sharp knives and stick the blade right on my skin gentley grazing along the length of my arm or stomach wishing for the strength to actually push down.
I come from a very loving and caring enviroment--my parents love each other, my sisters and I all get along. Nothing to provoke my sickness--it was just all in my head.
Every single time I would mess up, or so something wrong--and I'd get yelled at I would constantly write in my journal that "I wanted to die". Sitting on my bed and staring into nothing--rocking myself ever so slightly for hours and hours until someone came into the room, then I'd stop.
As the years went on, it only got worse--and into high school, I thought I was almost gone...it's like this darkness completely washed over me and I was free falling into the hole on nothing. I seriously wanted to kill myself, and if I had a gun--I would have done the deed. I would not be typing this right now.
After being in that darkness my entire life...that's all I knew--but the pressure and heaviness I just could not take it anymore, it was consuming me too rapidly. I lived with a fake smile on my face for too many years and I didn't tell anyone--I could feel myself sinking away, and deep down inside I didn't want that.
Instead of going to the doctors--I turned to my faith.
I stayed up every single night for almost three nights straight, crying and praying over and over again for God to take away this darkness--I didn't want to die.
One morning I woke up...and I felt lighter--like that heaviness was indeed not there anymore, only then did I really feel like 'Erica', like myself for the first time in a very, very long time.
This was when I was 17 yrs. old--and now I'm 25yrs. old--it hasn't been easy, at times I do slip up--but I carefully will myself not to do it...and I keep praying and eventually it does go away again.
Now, it's only occasional episodes that occur, and I don't really like people to know about this side of me because they are really surprised because they see me as a very fun, outgoing person--all they do is ask questions, that I really don't have the answers for.
For the people that don't have this sickness--it's hard for them to grasp there minds around how would a person actually inflict this kind of pain on themselfs? and to tell the truth...I really do not know.
I just hope that the monster within me stays quiet, for many years to come.
I hate myself so much and have been bullied and hurt since I was a child. I've considered taking my own life a few times, but never followed through because I don't want to hurt my family.
girl afraid wrote:I hate myself so much and have been bullied and hurt since I was a child. I've considered taking my own life a few times, but never followed through because I don't want to hurt my family.
I've been there. That's exactly what got me through it, thinking of my family. It's a scary feeling wanting to end your life, not feeling like you have any control. You've got a lot to live for. If you ever need to talk, you can pm me.
