*tw for suicidal ideation, desire for self-harm, abuse* (maybe this is redundant here, but just in case)
I'm new here, my name is AJ for now.
I'm a 25 yo woman. I use a wheelchair (not as bad as it sounds) and have been suffering with depression and anxiety since I was 14. Or, at least, was diagnosed around 14. It seems my whole life I've been more anxiety and depression prone.
Like, after seeing Titanic when I was younger, I remember not being able to sleep/having nightmares because of the horror of the thought of people freezing to death in the ocean. The sky was so vast, as was the ocean. And there was no hope. No one was coming for them. That feeling has been trapped in my body since I was aware enough to feel.
My dad was emotionally abusive for most of my younger years. Then, I started to go to church around 12. The worry/panic/highstrungness turned into terror of being damned to Hell. At 19, I was told I'd never amount to anything by my father while completing time at community college. At 25, I still live at home. Even though I'm married. We're too poor, right now, to live together.
Partly, because I've never had a job. And I haven't finished my degree (but I do have an associates). And it's not because I'm not smart. Every time I try to go back, I panic massively/have anxiety attacks/spiral into a depression. I feel like a failure. Like I am nothing. Dropped out four times now!
I started writing a novel after I dropped out of school just recently thinking that if there weren't grades it would be easier to use my *awesome* writing skills. I made the mistake of researching attachment patterns not long ago because one of the characters was adopted. It made me realize how far behind I am developmentally: socially and emotionally. I've been on Rx drugs. In therapy, psychotherapy, cognitive behavioral, and even healing prayer/christian. But there seems like a constant stream of negative thoughts running crazy in my head. About myself. About the world. About life. Constantly.
Lately, everything just hurts. My writing triggers me. Being with my husband triggers me. My faith triggers me. My facebook feed triggers me. The presence of people triggers me, but their absence even more. It feels too late to grow up, to go forward. I feel like I need to regress, actually, reading about traumatic early experiences. Like, I need dialectic behavioral therapy, in which a therapists works really closely with you, for a brief period of time, but I can't get it because I don't have a borderline personality diagnosis. Though, I could make a case that I am borderline. It seems ridiculous, but I really want someone to mother/father me for a while, walk with me through several milestones missed during abuse.
"The world is safe"
"People are safe"
"I am good"
I strike out on all three. The world is full of violence. People seem to reject me because they're too effing scared to deal with a wheelchair using person. And, I hate myself.
Today, I woke up just extremely tired. Weary. Of fighting for hope. Of trying to find a safe place, externally or internally. Of fighting to be good enough. Of feeling like I need to justify my existence to myself. Giving up is easier. Of course, I've done nothing my whole life, it seems, than giving up. I'm here, today, because I'm thinking about suicide. Like someone might think about planning a trip to Hawaii in the distant future (paradise might be nice...) but still, it's enough to scare the hell out of me.
I really don't want to commit suicide, even while I fantasize about being free finally. But, as cliche as it is, I want HELP. And I promise I won't hurt myself (fatally, can't promise I won't SI), or if I feel like I'm in crisis, I will call 911. Actually, I WANT TO BE COMMITTED. I WANT DBT at least!
Dumb question, but what do you want to do when you want to be committed?
I'm new here, my name is AJ for now.
I'm a 25 yo woman. I use a wheelchair (not as bad as it sounds) and have been suffering with depression and anxiety since I was 14. Or, at least, was diagnosed around 14. It seems my whole life I've been more anxiety and depression prone.
Like, after seeing Titanic when I was younger, I remember not being able to sleep/having nightmares because of the horror of the thought of people freezing to death in the ocean. The sky was so vast, as was the ocean. And there was no hope. No one was coming for them. That feeling has been trapped in my body since I was aware enough to feel.
My dad was emotionally abusive for most of my younger years. Then, I started to go to church around 12. The worry/panic/highstrungness turned into terror of being damned to Hell. At 19, I was told I'd never amount to anything by my father while completing time at community college. At 25, I still live at home. Even though I'm married. We're too poor, right now, to live together.
Partly, because I've never had a job. And I haven't finished my degree (but I do have an associates). And it's not because I'm not smart. Every time I try to go back, I panic massively/have anxiety attacks/spiral into a depression. I feel like a failure. Like I am nothing. Dropped out four times now!
I started writing a novel after I dropped out of school just recently thinking that if there weren't grades it would be easier to use my *awesome* writing skills. I made the mistake of researching attachment patterns not long ago because one of the characters was adopted. It made me realize how far behind I am developmentally: socially and emotionally. I've been on Rx drugs. In therapy, psychotherapy, cognitive behavioral, and even healing prayer/christian. But there seems like a constant stream of negative thoughts running crazy in my head. About myself. About the world. About life. Constantly.
Lately, everything just hurts. My writing triggers me. Being with my husband triggers me. My faith triggers me. My facebook feed triggers me. The presence of people triggers me, but their absence even more. It feels too late to grow up, to go forward. I feel like I need to regress, actually, reading about traumatic early experiences. Like, I need dialectic behavioral therapy, in which a therapists works really closely with you, for a brief period of time, but I can't get it because I don't have a borderline personality diagnosis. Though, I could make a case that I am borderline. It seems ridiculous, but I really want someone to mother/father me for a while, walk with me through several milestones missed during abuse.
"The world is safe"
"People are safe"
"I am good"
I strike out on all three. The world is full of violence. People seem to reject me because they're too effing scared to deal with a wheelchair using person. And, I hate myself.
Today, I woke up just extremely tired. Weary. Of fighting for hope. Of trying to find a safe place, externally or internally. Of fighting to be good enough. Of feeling like I need to justify my existence to myself. Giving up is easier. Of course, I've done nothing my whole life, it seems, than giving up. I'm here, today, because I'm thinking about suicide. Like someone might think about planning a trip to Hawaii in the distant future (paradise might be nice...) but still, it's enough to scare the hell out of me.
I really don't want to commit suicide, even while I fantasize about being free finally. But, as cliche as it is, I want HELP. And I promise I won't hurt myself (fatally, can't promise I won't SI), or if I feel like I'm in crisis, I will call 911. Actually, I WANT TO BE COMMITTED. I WANT DBT at least!
Dumb question, but what do you want to do when you want to be committed?