01-12-2018, 10:40 AM
Hey 777, if I might relate to you in hopes that you'll feel a little less alone...
I am familiar with the destroying all relationships catalyst. About 3 months ago I ended all my friendships, I was in a severe panic attack that in the self hatred I was certain I was going to hurt everyone I cared about so attempted to distance myself from them for their own safety. Many of them didn't care, others continued talking to me
Along that, I'm aware of the idea of losing everything important to you.
In 2012 I had my own place, a girlfriend, and we were going to start a family.
I had everything I wanted, then lost it all in 2013 including my car and had a bout of homelessness before deciding to live with my mom again. It was short but such an experience having nowhere to go and no one I trusted.
Since then I tried to rebuild, and before 2013 was over I was used and honestly I'd call it abused by my then best friend whom took up most of my time. We hung out near daily and she used my desire for her to control me. After things ended with her my then job became unbearable so I switched to overnights, lost contact with everyone just about, hardly even saw my own mother, and discovered the Law of One literally the week after I began preparing to commit suicide
That culminated in the end of 2013 and basically all of 2014 being an experience of solitude, self discovery, and enlightenment. Then 2015 came and I was unable to hold my heart open, I did an experiment in open heart states of consciousness without meditation, and subsequently began looking into darkness to reconcile it. The result was in 2015 I came to believe this all, reality, was literally Hell. If you've ever seen the original Stephen King movie 1408, where the protagonist is stuck in a 'fucking evil room' that transports him into hell, tortures him, tries to kill him, then releases him letting him think it was a near death experience from almost drowning earlier while surfing, only to discover he never left the room.
I felt like life was that room, that everything around me was actually a bubble a few feet away containing me in some holographic illusion where I was meant to slowly be tortured and suffer all to learn some kind of lesson. It was such a powerful experience because suicide would just reset the life I'm in, I'd live it all over again, if not worse off. I had dejavu of committing suicide, and twice I thought I actually DID commit suicide only to wake up at the beginning of the day, and both times I had a 'stacked' dejavu of going through that at least 8 times forgetting each time what had happened.
It was surreal and in ways impossible to me, yet I have such an experience... I was so certain I was in Hell, without a doubt... it took until 2017 to finally come to terms that I'm not in Hell, and this informed me that things like heaven and hell exist right here in physical earth, and it's our minds that open their gates for us to tour, and that just like enlightenment, it is a temporary experience.
Things in my mind, don't get better, they merely change, and all I can hope, pray, and beg for is that the change is constructive rather than destructive
I have no doubt when my mom dies I'll end up homeless possibly permanently. In many ways I've planned to commit suicide once she does if I don't have my s*** together. I rationalize it as an impossibility, me, living in this place, on the streets for everyone to abuse and harass and heartlessly hurt. By that point I could truly say and not just rationalize that my life is over. Not only that but I assume I'll kill myself regardless if I'm a single man in his mid 40's. The suicide rate for single men in their 40's is 50% in America at least four years ago, my proclivity of chronic severe depression intermixed with genetic predisposition to mental illness just leaves me in what feels like a Red Alert group, my probability of ending this life in suicide has felt well above 50%, I'd argue it's in the 85% area.
Because from my perspective, I've had suicidal feelings since elementary school as a child. I remember in the 4th grade I wanted to literally die instead of go to school and be bullied.
I don't know what to do. My last ditch effort is to fall on spirituality and faith, but truthfully I'm so depressed from all of this loneliness that even the Law of One looked like a fanciful hell masquerading as heaven. So I'm left without a plan, and must accept that I will suffer.
Even though it's the one thing I have tried so hard to avoid.
It's funny because I'm blessed in a sense with a great cowardice and lack of self esteem, I could never speak these things to people in my life I'm so quiet and feel so unimportant that I can't even bring myself to ask a girl I've been taking to lately out on a date because I believe I'm ugly, pathetic, weak, stupid, and all of these things. And I can't tell anyone because my greatest fear of all is being a burden. I can't go to the hospital, they don't care if I live or die. And I can't tell my mother, she wouldn't understand, and I know I'm losing my grip on reality when I think I'm in Hell and don't need a permanent diagnoses of psychosis to point that out.
I've been threatened with institutionalization, but every time it was a coercion tactic by my mother.
I was once put into a juvenile delinquent home for a day. Long story short my mother didn't like me having long hair, I did (goes into feeling more like a female than a male, another secret so to speak in my life), she dragged me by the hair down a hallway and punched a hole in my wall before I barricaded myself against the door in what felt like a life or death struggle to keep away from her. I wss so distressed I even begged satan to take over me and kill her because I had no idea what else to possibly do to get away from her terror, God didn't seem to give two flying fucks about me, especially when two police officers threatened to break my door down then told me my mother has the right to physically assault me the way she did before transporting me to the delinquent home.
Where that night I was so gone in disbelief and shock and a pain where some hair was ripped out, I wss physically dizzy with shock at my own mother doing what she had done to me.
The next morning when she showed up to take me home I refused to go with her to the staff's shock. The counselors there recognized that I was the farthest thing from violent.
I'm so damn nice and kind and loving that through all of this s***, the worst I've ever had were murder fantasies, not once have I physically assaulted my mother or a friend. Wait, there was... Tw-three instances as a child, and one as a teen that came from my second skin (red jacket I wore daily through Arizona desert heat) was broken by a 'friend'.
Beyond that I've stopped fights and have never thrown a punch at someone beyond when my 'friend' broke the most important clothing article to me, and he would describe that punch as like being hit by a teddy bear...
But overall, the people in that delinquent home recognized me as not belonging there, and knew something was wrong when I wouldn't go home with my mother.
You would never think a 6' teenager in 7th grade could be so abused by a small women like my mom. Just another pain to add on to being judged by my appearance... No one believed me back then when I told them about my mother, she had everyone so convinced even I questioned myself. It took the mother of my son being abused by my mother for me to finally know what I felt about her was true, it took the mother of my son citing my mother as the main reason she wanted our son to have nothing to do with me to make me realize how bad my mom is.
Institutions are cruel. And the crap you've been through is f*****. I only barely, like a slivers worth, identify with your experiences...
I have many potentials, writing, mathematics, music, programming, graphic art, but I have no drive or desire or motivation, I feel like a monster, and identify as being like my parents. As being as bad as my mother, which makes me hate myself and feel like I'm a waste of skin and blood. A person fell in love with me across the globe and I've utterly failed him in returning that love. I've let my son down for what'll be 6 years this November... I'm a failure at life and feel like I'm so bad I deserve to suffer, I take and do not give, I'm a burden on life itself.
But, until I am looking at a life devoid of family and friends, the one I've teetered on, and will plummet into once my mom dies, I'm going to try to make it work.
For all of my self hatred I consistently overlook all of my goodness. I forget how illogically improbably kind I can be. I don't give myself enough credit.
Which brings me to you. Hi me, I appreciate your vibration. In sorrow and suffering are you?
I don't really know you, but here's what I surmised from you.
You're mentally ill and suffer periods of that illness flaring up. You've been abused, used, imprisoned, subjected to biological assault, psychologically invalidated, labeled, judged, condemned, and yet somehow you rebuild, stay afloat even after sinking. You manage but know that you'll destroy it all again.
You've identified if I may infringe you with this possibly wrong observation, a main catalytic theme in your life. Perhaps your challenge in this life is to find a means to control those moments, to be in that mania and manage to not destroy your progress, and maybe you're feeling as I am in regards to functioning as a decent contributing member of society, like it's impossible!
But 777, you have shown promise where I've given up. You continue to try but grow weary from the same destruction that repeats. If you could just find a way to create something from that destructiveness, to channel the mania to a positive usage if at the least simply being to clean instead of freaking out and acting on those freak outs...
I gave up because I believe in my mind I am incapable of doing what I felt drawn to. Healing. Helping. Serving... I'm just a monster, an ass hole. My only excuse is being abused by my mom psychologically over my life, and I hide behind it because I'm too scared to try again and lose it all.
Please don't get to that point like I have... You show potential, promise, that you've the power to handle this, that you Caaan do this and handle your mental illness at the least, in a neutral way.
Your halfhearted attempt to medicate this issue isn't a bad move. A woman who used to browse here who last went by SMC as her name pointed out that medication is a viable option in regards to certain biological concerns. Basically put, if your brain needs the neurotransmitters from, say, an antidepressant, then taking antidepressants is a healthy choice for your neural chemistry.
If you require something to stabilize the mania, it's a healthy choice.
Sadly we're faced with the toxic water dilemma, if you're dehydrated and the only water available is saturated with crud like sodium bicarbonate and potassium chloride (nestle brand water), do you avoid the bad crap in the water and die of dehydration, or do you take the water and live to suffer from ill side effects years later by those chemicals?
Since life is considered sacred, one would argue yes, take the water, take the pills.
Do whatever you need to do to make it through.
Don't give up on yourself.
You're more important than others would have you believe, so just know that you've got my support, however little it may be, just know that SOMEONE cares about your suffering, and that I won't be silent when you ask for support. All I can give is my strength, what little there is, and my courage, what little there is, and my love, however much of that I have, I don't know. More than I give myself credit for.
So don't forget to give yourself credit. You've destroyed your life, but not yourself, not yet. That's something to be proud of, a power of yours to appreciate and contemplate your worthiness with.
Perhaps the road to better things starts with looking for ways to handle your mania. Even if it means calling someone to be with you when you feel a manic attack coming on, so that they may help keep you from damaging your life. It'll show them you're trying to take control over your illness, and so long as they can remain present even if you try to push them away, you'll know you found a true friend.
Sorry for the lengthy woe is me post also. I hope my experiences help you know you're not alone, at least, not in spirit...
I am familiar with the destroying all relationships catalyst. About 3 months ago I ended all my friendships, I was in a severe panic attack that in the self hatred I was certain I was going to hurt everyone I cared about so attempted to distance myself from them for their own safety. Many of them didn't care, others continued talking to me
Along that, I'm aware of the idea of losing everything important to you.
In 2012 I had my own place, a girlfriend, and we were going to start a family.
I had everything I wanted, then lost it all in 2013 including my car and had a bout of homelessness before deciding to live with my mom again. It was short but such an experience having nowhere to go and no one I trusted.
Since then I tried to rebuild, and before 2013 was over I was used and honestly I'd call it abused by my then best friend whom took up most of my time. We hung out near daily and she used my desire for her to control me. After things ended with her my then job became unbearable so I switched to overnights, lost contact with everyone just about, hardly even saw my own mother, and discovered the Law of One literally the week after I began preparing to commit suicide
That culminated in the end of 2013 and basically all of 2014 being an experience of solitude, self discovery, and enlightenment. Then 2015 came and I was unable to hold my heart open, I did an experiment in open heart states of consciousness without meditation, and subsequently began looking into darkness to reconcile it. The result was in 2015 I came to believe this all, reality, was literally Hell. If you've ever seen the original Stephen King movie 1408, where the protagonist is stuck in a 'fucking evil room' that transports him into hell, tortures him, tries to kill him, then releases him letting him think it was a near death experience from almost drowning earlier while surfing, only to discover he never left the room.
I felt like life was that room, that everything around me was actually a bubble a few feet away containing me in some holographic illusion where I was meant to slowly be tortured and suffer all to learn some kind of lesson. It was such a powerful experience because suicide would just reset the life I'm in, I'd live it all over again, if not worse off. I had dejavu of committing suicide, and twice I thought I actually DID commit suicide only to wake up at the beginning of the day, and both times I had a 'stacked' dejavu of going through that at least 8 times forgetting each time what had happened.
It was surreal and in ways impossible to me, yet I have such an experience... I was so certain I was in Hell, without a doubt... it took until 2017 to finally come to terms that I'm not in Hell, and this informed me that things like heaven and hell exist right here in physical earth, and it's our minds that open their gates for us to tour, and that just like enlightenment, it is a temporary experience.
Things in my mind, don't get better, they merely change, and all I can hope, pray, and beg for is that the change is constructive rather than destructive
I have no doubt when my mom dies I'll end up homeless possibly permanently. In many ways I've planned to commit suicide once she does if I don't have my s*** together. I rationalize it as an impossibility, me, living in this place, on the streets for everyone to abuse and harass and heartlessly hurt. By that point I could truly say and not just rationalize that my life is over. Not only that but I assume I'll kill myself regardless if I'm a single man in his mid 40's. The suicide rate for single men in their 40's is 50% in America at least four years ago, my proclivity of chronic severe depression intermixed with genetic predisposition to mental illness just leaves me in what feels like a Red Alert group, my probability of ending this life in suicide has felt well above 50%, I'd argue it's in the 85% area.
Because from my perspective, I've had suicidal feelings since elementary school as a child. I remember in the 4th grade I wanted to literally die instead of go to school and be bullied.
I don't know what to do. My last ditch effort is to fall on spirituality and faith, but truthfully I'm so depressed from all of this loneliness that even the Law of One looked like a fanciful hell masquerading as heaven. So I'm left without a plan, and must accept that I will suffer.
Even though it's the one thing I have tried so hard to avoid.
It's funny because I'm blessed in a sense with a great cowardice and lack of self esteem, I could never speak these things to people in my life I'm so quiet and feel so unimportant that I can't even bring myself to ask a girl I've been taking to lately out on a date because I believe I'm ugly, pathetic, weak, stupid, and all of these things. And I can't tell anyone because my greatest fear of all is being a burden. I can't go to the hospital, they don't care if I live or die. And I can't tell my mother, she wouldn't understand, and I know I'm losing my grip on reality when I think I'm in Hell and don't need a permanent diagnoses of psychosis to point that out.
I've been threatened with institutionalization, but every time it was a coercion tactic by my mother.
I was once put into a juvenile delinquent home for a day. Long story short my mother didn't like me having long hair, I did (goes into feeling more like a female than a male, another secret so to speak in my life), she dragged me by the hair down a hallway and punched a hole in my wall before I barricaded myself against the door in what felt like a life or death struggle to keep away from her. I wss so distressed I even begged satan to take over me and kill her because I had no idea what else to possibly do to get away from her terror, God didn't seem to give two flying fucks about me, especially when two police officers threatened to break my door down then told me my mother has the right to physically assault me the way she did before transporting me to the delinquent home.
Where that night I was so gone in disbelief and shock and a pain where some hair was ripped out, I wss physically dizzy with shock at my own mother doing what she had done to me.
The next morning when she showed up to take me home I refused to go with her to the staff's shock. The counselors there recognized that I was the farthest thing from violent.
I'm so damn nice and kind and loving that through all of this s***, the worst I've ever had were murder fantasies, not once have I physically assaulted my mother or a friend. Wait, there was... Tw-three instances as a child, and one as a teen that came from my second skin (red jacket I wore daily through Arizona desert heat) was broken by a 'friend'.
Beyond that I've stopped fights and have never thrown a punch at someone beyond when my 'friend' broke the most important clothing article to me, and he would describe that punch as like being hit by a teddy bear...
But overall, the people in that delinquent home recognized me as not belonging there, and knew something was wrong when I wouldn't go home with my mother.
You would never think a 6' teenager in 7th grade could be so abused by a small women like my mom. Just another pain to add on to being judged by my appearance... No one believed me back then when I told them about my mother, she had everyone so convinced even I questioned myself. It took the mother of my son being abused by my mother for me to finally know what I felt about her was true, it took the mother of my son citing my mother as the main reason she wanted our son to have nothing to do with me to make me realize how bad my mom is.
Institutions are cruel. And the crap you've been through is f*****. I only barely, like a slivers worth, identify with your experiences...
I have many potentials, writing, mathematics, music, programming, graphic art, but I have no drive or desire or motivation, I feel like a monster, and identify as being like my parents. As being as bad as my mother, which makes me hate myself and feel like I'm a waste of skin and blood. A person fell in love with me across the globe and I've utterly failed him in returning that love. I've let my son down for what'll be 6 years this November... I'm a failure at life and feel like I'm so bad I deserve to suffer, I take and do not give, I'm a burden on life itself.
But, until I am looking at a life devoid of family and friends, the one I've teetered on, and will plummet into once my mom dies, I'm going to try to make it work.
For all of my self hatred I consistently overlook all of my goodness. I forget how illogically improbably kind I can be. I don't give myself enough credit.
Which brings me to you. Hi me, I appreciate your vibration. In sorrow and suffering are you?
I don't really know you, but here's what I surmised from you.
You're mentally ill and suffer periods of that illness flaring up. You've been abused, used, imprisoned, subjected to biological assault, psychologically invalidated, labeled, judged, condemned, and yet somehow you rebuild, stay afloat even after sinking. You manage but know that you'll destroy it all again.
You've identified if I may infringe you with this possibly wrong observation, a main catalytic theme in your life. Perhaps your challenge in this life is to find a means to control those moments, to be in that mania and manage to not destroy your progress, and maybe you're feeling as I am in regards to functioning as a decent contributing member of society, like it's impossible!
But 777, you have shown promise where I've given up. You continue to try but grow weary from the same destruction that repeats. If you could just find a way to create something from that destructiveness, to channel the mania to a positive usage if at the least simply being to clean instead of freaking out and acting on those freak outs...
I gave up because I believe in my mind I am incapable of doing what I felt drawn to. Healing. Helping. Serving... I'm just a monster, an ass hole. My only excuse is being abused by my mom psychologically over my life, and I hide behind it because I'm too scared to try again and lose it all.
Please don't get to that point like I have... You show potential, promise, that you've the power to handle this, that you Caaan do this and handle your mental illness at the least, in a neutral way.
Your halfhearted attempt to medicate this issue isn't a bad move. A woman who used to browse here who last went by SMC as her name pointed out that medication is a viable option in regards to certain biological concerns. Basically put, if your brain needs the neurotransmitters from, say, an antidepressant, then taking antidepressants is a healthy choice for your neural chemistry.
If you require something to stabilize the mania, it's a healthy choice.
Sadly we're faced with the toxic water dilemma, if you're dehydrated and the only water available is saturated with crud like sodium bicarbonate and potassium chloride (nestle brand water), do you avoid the bad crap in the water and die of dehydration, or do you take the water and live to suffer from ill side effects years later by those chemicals?
Since life is considered sacred, one would argue yes, take the water, take the pills.
Do whatever you need to do to make it through.
Don't give up on yourself.
You're more important than others would have you believe, so just know that you've got my support, however little it may be, just know that SOMEONE cares about your suffering, and that I won't be silent when you ask for support. All I can give is my strength, what little there is, and my courage, what little there is, and my love, however much of that I have, I don't know. More than I give myself credit for.
So don't forget to give yourself credit. You've destroyed your life, but not yourself, not yet. That's something to be proud of, a power of yours to appreciate and contemplate your worthiness with.
Perhaps the road to better things starts with looking for ways to handle your mania. Even if it means calling someone to be with you when you feel a manic attack coming on, so that they may help keep you from damaging your life. It'll show them you're trying to take control over your illness, and so long as they can remain present even if you try to push them away, you'll know you found a true friend.
Sorry for the lengthy woe is me post also. I hope my experiences help you know you're not alone, at least, not in spirit...
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