"I've said it before and I'll say it again; demons I get. People are crazy."
I was born over 30 years ago to a woman who was legally wed to the man who sired me. I liked breathing so I decided to stick around. Nothing of much importance has happened to me since.
Where did you grow up?
In houses and flats, mostly. Though there were a few months that I spent in jail and in homeless shelters.
Where do you live now?
In a house that's falling apart and that I am anxiously waiting to relocate from.
What is the highest level of education you have attained?
Life. Life is a good educator and I am always learning from it.
What subjects did/do you enjoy most at school?
Recess and lunch, or any time I could get away with reading a novel.
What's your favorite sport or sports?
Survival. That's a very challenging sport, and one I am most fond of.
What kind of jobs have you held? Industries too!
Non Applicable at this point in time. But I'm working on someone giving me a chance to wash dishes for minimum wage.
What hobbies are you into?
Writing, reading, listening to music, meeting my nerd heroes at national conventions, and feeding my fandom addiction via Netflix and other streaming services.
What causes are you concerned about today?
Addiction, pitiful mental health support, universal health care, poverty, and the utter failure that is the NBN.
If you claim a political party affiliation, which is it?
Always a dangerous question this one; and I'm always one for playing it safer. Inquire within if it remains such a burning question and you'll die without knowing.
Which religion (if any) do you follow?
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Will Helpbot please report to the front desk?written () ago
You have a phone call.
Nope. None at all.
It seems that my opinions apparently differ a lot from the majority of the people here now; so I'm just plain scared to even contribute lest I start a nasty debate that will end up with me realizing I should have just kept my mouth shut in the first place.
I've matured enough over the years to learn how to learn from my mistakes.- written - voted for by Araz, NacthoMan, DragonLady
If after the above advice doesn't help...how old is your charger/USB cord? After a while, they tend to burn out and need replacing. I've only had two iPhones over the last 10 years and I can't even recall how many lightning cables I've gone through...maybe about 8 something around there? It tends to give a connection error when connecting to the computer, refuses to charge, and the computer doesn't recognize it. It may be something as simple as just replacing the cable.- written - voted for by DragonLady, DocteurRalph
I agree with what @music=life said where it's hard to try and find something to say in a desire to help, because you've written this extremely raw - and perhaps that's a good thing. To get it out somehow. It whatever way in order to try and sort out the chaos in your head. It is something I can relate to as well. Words are my emotions that are given ammunition; for lack of a better way to explain it.
I do wish to say a few things though. I don't know if some sort of filtering or any sort of given perspective will be appreciated, but I needed to feel like I could maybe say something - anything that properly conveys my hope to try and help ease a little of your pain? I know sometimes it has helped me in the past.
The price you pay for drugs is a small pink simian who enjoys interlocking his twenty digits around your spine in a slowly tightening grip. But at least you are dealing with a pain fierce enough for you to understand, to endure. The subtle art of poetry carries a more subtle pain.
This screamed out at me. It says everything. On September 13th, I'll be 2 years clean after a near fatal overdose. The price I paid was that I felt like the monkey on my back was forced onto my mother - and that is a currency I refuse to pay ever again. My demons should be mine alone, and I refuse to force someone I love as much as my mother, to carry any of them.
For over half of my already lived life, I believed that I hated my mother just as much as I hate myself - sometimes, there were times when I thought I hated her even more that that; especially in the times I was actively hurting. There was a lot of unspoken pain, resentment, confusion that was left over from many years that we both found ourselves in a place where we thought nothing could fix the caverns in our relationship.
It has only been in the last five years where we have grown -together- and we have been able to begin to heal some wounds that were festering for far too long. The fear and helplessness in my mother's eyes the morning she rushed me to the hospital is one I will never forget; and while it may have been the epiphany I needed to finally see that I truly love my mother, I wish it had been another way. I should not have needed to hurt her so badly, before I realized that I actually gave a ****shit, and I was finally convinced that she did.
My mother is now, my best friend. Something I thought I would never say, or have.
That went in a whole other direction than I originally intended here, but it doesn't sound as simple or effortless as "I get it." I truly do.
My use was used to numb. To become emotionless, or at least not be aware or care of the emotions because they would rip holes of pain through me. I felt I had no other way to stop my soul from screaming. Even if it was just turning it's volume down for a short time, and letting the record play without hearing it. It didn't go away, or stop. It was just temporarily covered up.
I'm sick of writing about dope, about drugs in every form. I'm sick of recording the ups of indulgence, and sick of releasing dispatches of misery via abstinence.
I *get it
I'm exhausted, and there's times when I think it's even so beyond that, that there isn't even a word for it. I get so angry that it's even something that is a part of my life. In fact, it was only just the other day I had the second-worst day in two years. The only way it would have been in first place, would be if I had given in. Miraculously, I didn't. Or maybe the new Australian law is to be given the most credit. I think it is more likely to be the reason, rather than any kind of miracle.
I guess what I'm trying to really say here, is to possibly give words of comfort, and though I know it's so cliche, and I know that when we feel at our utter most low-point, we don't even believe the words, but; you are not alone.
Away from the self-deprecating humor, and underneath it all, no matter how much ****shit we might throw at each other in some form of weird performance dance, I care about you, and I just needed you to know that. I always have cared for you since I first met you. I've admired, and respected you. I am so so sorry that you are hurting, and like @music=life also said, do not forget that is is okay to throw a pity party. It's okay to be angry, or self-loathing or whatever you need to feel right now. And yes, we sometimes do need to feel some of that pain before we can begin to heal. It's just important to remember too, that as much as it can be believed that "I need to do this alone" sometimes. Sometimes, we really can't.
- written - voted for by verge, DocteurRalph
When I thought of checking into the site today, I said to myself "don't reply, even if something seems like bait to debate, even if something gets you upset to the point that you feel you have to respond. This place is not the way it used to be."
I'm breaking that promise.
First, it was the whole "young american women" thing. Because wow, that's pretty sexist. I know men who are bi-polar. Some who are very dear to me, and who I would take a bullet for...even when NOT depressed.
Then, it's the first Anonymous reply who said this;
"My biggest issue with it, is they don't have any way to know what works up front. They want to try all these different type of psycho pills just to see which one works and if they work the way they want them too. That's not even an educated guess. It's just totally guessing. There should be enough science understood behind these drugs to know what drug will work best for each patient, rather than just sticking someone on a drug and seeing if it is the right choice"
I'd have put the above in a quote block, but I cannot remember how do do so at this point in time.
Just because two or more people have the same diagnosis, does not mean the same medications will work. No matter what science is done, there will always be variations and exceptions. That is why it is important for a patient to remain in contact with their general practitioner and/or psychiatrist at all times. Some just by a few different factors. A medicine can work for a time, and then suddenly STOP working because the body itself has become immune, or unchanged from the induced chemicals. This could be after five YEARS of it functioning.
Some patients have adverse effects from a medication that are actually dangerous. For instance my mother, who has Schizo-effective Disorder, (a combination of Bi-Polar and Schizophrenia) has found success in mirtazapine. The drug itself, is an anti-depressant that has properties of treating anxiety.
After one dose of it (only a mere quarter of one tablet) I actually became psychotic less than 24 hours later due to it's sedative effects. It turned out, that shockingly, it tends to have an adverse affect on those with a family history of Bi-Polar. Of which my mother has and it worked for. Of which I do NOT have, and it actually made me worse.
My cousin has Bi-Polar, and anorexia. She has tried medications from Seroquel, to Solian, to Lithium (which in this country, is often considered a "last resort" when a person seems to exhausted other options.
When my mother was diagnosed almost 40 years ago, she was only given one diagnosis in the beginning. Mental heath and brain chemical imbalances have come a LONG way since then. Not until I was almost an adult, was it further understood that she had the combination of illnesses. And through the breakthrough of a new medication on the market, it worked.
I spent My infancy, my childhood and my teenage years watching my mom spiral up and down and go in and out of hospital, or self-harming herself. And yes, sometimes only ONCE A YEAR. There were years that there was barely an issue.
She has been well now for almost 20 years because of updated research, understanding and medical advances.
Myself, I have Major Depressive Disorder, C-PTSD (more advanced than PTSD - a rare diagnosis that is mostly reserved for those who are war veterans, or severe child abuse victims) Anxiety Disorder two Cluster C Personality Disorders. I was very very lucky, fortunate and a unique case where it was only the third medication I had tried that actually worked for me, and has continued to do so for the last 4 years.
That does not mean it always will. Nor does it mean that if it ever does stop improving my condition, it means that it was a sham all along, and quite frankly, I am rather appalled and offended by that notion.
I have sacrificed a LOT in the last few years. More than most would understand, in order to find a solution. I found one. And it's one that I am grateful for despite of what it effects in my life. It may actually prevent me from having more children...which I crave more than almost anything.
It's not a "guessing" game.
"The whole process of diagnosing the proper drug for the proper illness is totally f***** up!"
You ever met a cancer patient who has reacted the same way to chemotherapy or radiation therapy as another? Have you ever met a person who's physical (not mental illness related) pain hasn't responded to one or more drugs, but does to a another particular one?
You know what I think? I think that in the more recent times, mental illness and mental disorders have become less of a stigma and more of an everyday talking point, that others just don't want to accept or believe it, because they WANT to believe that "crazy people" should shut up and be invisible like they used to be. And when we're not...it makes you others uncomfortable.
Well you know what? Tough ****shit. We're here, we're dealing with what we can, and we are seeking help to cope and manage everyday as best we can.- written - voted for by Araz
I've sadly had trouble trusting men most of my life, just due to my experiences with about 97% of them. I basically feel like the character Carin from Patch Adams...almost every man I've come across since the age of 6 - hasn't really given me much respect or allowance to my own autonomy.
It may have somewhat contributed to the fact that I discovered in my mid-20's that I'm asexual too, and why I'm pushing 40 and still haven't had consensual ***sex. I've wanted to, but it requires a lot more trust, and when former childhood friends, and even family members have broken and betrayed that trust...it makes it all the more difficult.
But I think recently, I may have found a good one, and he hasn't turned out to be sexually deranged domestic violence type...at least not yet. Lol. So I'm holding out for hope, and thankfully, he knows the baggage I carry already But we've known each other since high school 20 years ago and just reconnected years later, so I guess that helps? Probably the only decent guy I met in that entire town too, but then the bar's not real high.- written
If slow walkers and stop'n'talkers in grocery stores count as time wasters, I completely agree!
I just want to get through, grab my stuff and get out. But then you have the ones you're stuck behind because they've decided to stop in the middle of the aisle and chat to a friend they run into...or leave their trolley and walk 5 metres away to get what they want, without realizing that someone behind them can't squeeze through their abandoned trolley and a display set up, ugh...
And the ones who treat shopping like a gentle stroll, I want to ram my trolley into the back of their knees. It's fine if I can dodge and weave through them...if there's enough room, but then I somehow get dirty looks because I'm in a hurry to get passed them.
Do they think I have hours to spend at the store and I don't have something else I need to do?- written
Thank you for your perspective Aria. It helped me to understand. May I ask where you live now? How far is it from where you grew up?
I'm in Australia, and still here. I never relocated to the US, and quite honestly, I don't think I could now. Which is an entirely different outcome I once had for myself and my future children.- written
Oh, I am definitely okay with covers! Though, my stupid and snobbish younger self once had an elitist view against them; I have grown to appreciate and even admire them now! Yay for personal growth and maturity! Lol.
I haven't yet clicked to listen yet before typing this, I just wanted to let you know that I am looking forward to seeing/hearing it. Especially after seeing your above interpretation. You are amazingly talented!- written
I began to reply to this, but I lost my previous attempt - my computer is on it's way out. But to try and summarize what my original reply was...
It's hard to answer this. On a personal level, I once had such admiration and loyalty toward the US. From a child, my dream career, all the way into adulthood was cemented into relocating into the US. But after certain personal traumas and events, it changed in a direction that I (nor anyone who knew me before then) never thought it would. Even close friends and family are shocked that my perspectives of the US have changed, since they have known me long enough to witness that I basically loved the US more than my own country to the level of obsession and could be seen somewhat even treasonous.
But it does break my heart, and I have lost a lot of love and respect for the country I once declared many times I would rather die for, than the land that I grew up on. I brushed of its ugly side and its flaws and was utterly convinced it could never do any wrong...
But somewhere along the way; I just couldn't ignore some of the darker things anymore. I can't even really pinpoint where it happened, nor when I first started to notice it. And it hurts when I look at things now and wish I could feel like I used to. I feel like it's not the land I grew up loving and some day wished to call my own, and my home. I wanted to study there, and begin my career there. Even if it wasn't my first career choice, I hoped my second choice would also blossom. But I think now... I just wouldn't feel safe.
I guess because I too, have changed so much? I don't know. But...from how I'm seeing it these days. I used to notice the love and the friendliness...but now, I feel that if I were there, I'd be constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering whenever I made even a slight mistake that someone did not approve of...I would be seen as an enemy just for existing.
My world seems smaller already these days with my dreams dwindling. But my heart will forever hurt that the country that I loved for almost 30 years of my life, now terrifies me.- written
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