Running out of options

Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by vir, Dec 30, 2011.

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  1. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    I just don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do anymore.

    When I was growing up, I hated school and hated the town where I lived. Figured, once that was over, I'd be able to go to college and get out of that place. Which I did, but that wasn't really any better. But, optimist that I am, I figured if I just stuck it out and got a nice valuable engineering degree, I'd be able to get a good job and all that crap. So I stuck it out and finished university and ran smack into the worst depression of my life so far. So I sought help. From one psychiatrist after another. Got a diagnosis of ADHD and bipolar disorder type II. I was prescribed so many different medications. The ADHD ones were very helpful (I went on them before graduating university, I doubt I could have finished without them) but the antidepressants always either made things worse, worked for a week or two and then stopped, or just did nothing at all (the most common result).

    After one failure after another in the prescription drug arena, I decided to see if illegal drugs worked any better. At this point, I was spending a lot of time thinking about suicide. Especially, hanging myself with a belt, or injecting myself with potassium chloride. I really didn't want my family to have to go through all that pain, since I know they care about me. But then, and now, my family felt like more of an obligation than a blessing. I hate feeling like that, like it'd be better if there were no one to miss me. Isn't that a horrible thing to think?

    Anyway, I tried smoking weed, but that just sapped my energy, although it did make me more open and talkative, which was good. And it made me part of a network of other people who share weed and smoke together, which at this point was really quite a benefit. This was in 2008, and I joined the Obama campaign as a volunteer, and got to meet our then-future president once, before he beat Hillary Clinton in the primaries. I have some awesome memories of that time, even though I was smoking quite a bit of weed. But anyway, once Obama won the primaries, and McCain selected Palin as his VP, it was clear Obama was going to win, so I ended up leaving the campaign and going back to grad school. I quit weed entirely, since I didn't want it to affect my grades. But my first semester of grad school was crap. I had to drop two classes, and my other two I did very mediocre in. The depression hit hardcore during midterms, and I couldn't even figure out a simple algebra problem my younger sister needed help with. And I'm taking advanced differential equations as part of a graduate degree in engineering.

    At this point, I'm still taking adderall for ADD, but this doesn't help at all with my depression. So... I got really desperate. Managed to get my hands on some methamphetamine. And it literally changed my life. I suddenly loved my schoolwork, and excelled in all of the new classes I was taking. Because I did so well in my classes, all of a sudden I had all these Indian students wanting to be my friend. The one class I did best in was a virtual reality class, where I used my extensive (and up to this point, totally irrelevant) knowledge of video game programming to program virtual reality simulations, especially for robotic surgery. I started dating an Indian girl who was a friend to another Indian who worked in my lab, and it was by far the best time of my life. I enjoyed being around other people. I loved what I was doing. I was actually GOOD at what I was doing. Not like my other jobs, which I was inevitably fired from after a few months. I spent long nights in my lab, in discussions with the other students (all of which were Indian, I was the only American in my lab). I had a normal sex drive, and began having awesome sex. It was like I was living the life I always wanted to live, but it was only because I was using methamphetamine. I wasn't using a lot though. Heavy users of this stuff can use about a gram a day, whereas it would take me a month to go through a gram. For a year and a half I was on top of the world.

    Then I got caught when border patrol cops found some methamphetamine in my car when I was crossing back to the US from a trip to Canada. Suddenly it all came back. The depression, the constantly feeling like shit, the pointlessness and the stupidity of it all. I was released on bail, but had to live with my parents (by court order), which in retrospect was probably not the best place for me to live, since I was cut off from my social life. Things were really bad at first, and I just wanted to end it all so badly, I ended up using drugs even though I was being tested. So they put me in this outpatient rehab program. But I felt like I didn't really fit in there. The other people in group therapy would talk about the horrible things drugs did to their lives. I was the only one who was like, drugs made my life awesome. But I stayed off them anyway because I didn't want to go to jail. But then because I falsely tested positive on a drug test during rehab, even though I hadn't used in well over a month, I went to jail anyway. For a month, until a spot opened up for me in inpatient rehab.

    Inpatient rehab was a real eye-opening experience. There were so many people there who had scars on their hands and wrists and who talked about trying to kill themselves. So many of them had such horrible lives, it made me feel a bit better about myself. But again, I felt like I didn't belong. Drugs and alcohol had ruined so many of their lives, but for me, the only thing that ruined my life was getting caught. They did convince me that it was a good thing I quit, since I was sure I didn't want to end up like many of them.

    So I got out, and stayed clean, despite hating my life and losing all my friends and my girlfriend, and basically just sitting around watching TV all the time because I hated everything and had no energy. Again, everything seemed so stupid and pointless, and I started thinking of ways to kill myself. I even made some <Mod Edit, WildCherry: Methods> , just in case. Again, I was on another series of antidepressants, each more useless than the last. My weight shot up, then shot down, then shot back up again. I had to go on Medicaid to pay for this regimen of counselors, psychiatrists, and useless medication. The drugs typically cost more than rent ever would, and did NOTHING. I remember putting the <Mod Edit, WildCherry: Methods> in my mouth once, to see if being so close to death would scare me, and it didn't. I spit them out, and held onto them until my parents got really mad at me for something stupid, then I gave them to my mom and told her what they were and to get rid of them.

    My research work had ground to a halt, and I got as much done in a month as I did before in a day, and the work I did do was really poor quality. Oh yeah, and because apparently I'm a drug addict now, I can no longer get any doctor anywhere to prescribe me ADD medications. Except for crap like Strattera, which is basically a placebo that gave me stomach aches. I think I'm on my eleventh antidepressant/bipolar type medication. I basically spend all my time reading magazine articles and watching TV shows on my laptop. I can't think. When people ask me questions, I forget what I'm talking about, or struggle to carry on conversations. I'm always having to make up excuses for why I'm so inarticulate, or why I can't follow a conversation or understand what people are telling me. They're the exact same excuses I used to use before I started taking ADD medication. Usually I say I'm tired, or I was drinking the night before, because even that's better than being a moron who can't follow a stupid human conversation without drifting off.

    As one by one I lost all my friends I had made during my drug-fueled ascent, my life just got worse. Keep in mind, none of said friends knew about my drug use, so it's not like these people were drug buddies or anything. They were typically other engineering grad students that I just stopped caring about because I just wanted to be by myself all the time. I started thinking about different ways to kill myself. At first, I thought about <Mod Edit, WildCherry: Methods> again, but then someone would have to find me dead, and I didn't want that to be anyone I knew. Then I thought it'd be better to just crash my car at a really high speed with no seatbelt, (my family could tell themselves it was an accident, not a suicide) but with my luck I'd probably lose my lower jaw, a good sized chunk of my brain, and the ability to move anything below my neck, and be in the care of my super-catholic mom who thinks euthenasia is some sort of horrible modern evil. I thought a lot about hanging, and even sort of hung myself once, but it was in a place where I could get down really easy, and I did. I just wanted to know what it would feel like, and I knew I wouldn't want to go that way. Plus, I'd have to be found by someone and didn't want it to be anyone that knew me.

    Really, my problem is just depression. Never-ending, soul-crushing, depression. With an occasional hypomanic episode every other year that lasts for two or three days, but really just horrible, horrible depression. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. Going out with friends is painful, because I just end up making an idiot out of myself and then spend days afterwards thinking about what an idiot I was. Or getting stupidly drunk in a vain attempt to make the pain go away, then passing out. The latter I don't do very often, and shouldn't do at all according to the conditions of my release, but sometimes I just don't give a fuck.

    My life lately has been like playing a game where you answer questions, and if you get a question right, you get a black jellybean, and if you get a question wrong, you get whacked on the back of the head with a steel pipe. I mean, who would want to play that game? Sometimes I do alright for a while, amassing myself a small handful of metaphorical jellybeans, but then someone is mean to me and I'm back crying under my covers and wishing I could save a busload of kids and somehow die in the process, because then I could be remembered as a hero and my family would be proud of me.

    I started watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. (I'm a 29 year old guy) I highly recommend this show for anyone going through depression. It's just so fucking happy and cheerful, it'll make anyone smile. But after watching the entire series three times, it's not like it changed my life or anything, it basically just postponed my depression for a few weeks. And I'm still an unemployed loser who lives with his parents and has pending felony charges against him.

    And now I just feel like I'm running out of options. Some days the only thing keeping me going is knowing that once I'm off probation I can start using drugs again, and have the life I used to have. But is that really any way to live? And if I get caught a second time, there won't be any mercy for me. I'm thinking of moving to a different country, like India, where the drug laws aren't as strict. I could get a good job, or teach engineering to poor Indian kids. All my future dreams kind of involve me using stimulants so I have enough energy to roll out of bed in the morning and shave and shower, not to mention do something productive in this world.

    I keep feeling like I have to do something important with my life. Because if I just do some crappy office job just to make money, what kind of life is that? Because, to be perfectly honest, I don't care at all about my own survival; I never have. I still care about other people, because I figure if I can't really be grateful for my life, at least I can help other people who are grateful for theirs. But if it just meant living for myself? To be honest I'd rather be dead. So I've volunteered. I volunteered for the Peace Corps. Rejected, not sure why. I volunteered for Big Brothers/Big Sisters. Rejected again. Probably because of my mental health issues. (this was before I had a criminal record or started using drugs, I was actually not a bad role model at that point in my life) More recently, I've looked into tutoring high school kids in math and science, but even that takes a background check these days. I mean would YOU want a "crazy drug addict" tutoring YOUR child?

    With my mental health issues, I think I'd make a really unreliable husband/father, so I'm not sure it's such a good idea to think about having a family, plus, I've got all these craziness genes I'm not too keen on passing down. So what else is really left for me? I ask myself that a lot. If I stay off drugs, I can expect to be a bitter loser who's only staying alive for the sake of his family, and who resents them for it. I can keep trying new antidepressants, and hope that one eventually works, but so far none of them have even come close to just making me stop thinking about suicide all the time.

    The things I think about to keep me going have been kind of lame lately. For example, if I do it, people will say about me, oh, he got mixed up in drugs, and that's why he did it. I wouldn't want people to think that, since my problem is depression, not drug addiction, so I live another day. Also, the medication I'm on makes me test positive for amphetamines, so I'm worried someone will do an autopsy and find I test positive for amphetamines, and say, oh, he was using drugs, that's why he did it. So I think, grrrr, I'll wait until I'm on some other useless medication that doesn't show up as amphetamines in a blood test, then off myself. I'd have a clean tox screen, then they couldn't say it was drugs that made me do it. But these are pretty stupid reasons to go on living, and sometimes I don't even care about them. I mean, why should I? The only reasons I think of them at all is because they're reasons to possibly live another day, lame as they might be.

    I'm starting to get worried, since I spent most of the last week settling on a suicide plan. It's to <Mod Edit, WildCherry: Methods> which is actually not very far away from me. That way, it's be quick, certain, and they have so many other people that do the same thing that they've got a protocol there and everything. It's like a 200 foot drop, so dead on impact, and my parents wouldn't have to be haunted with the memory of finding my dead body. Not sure they'd appreciate the gesture though.

    Oh, and to top it all off, I have some pretty pervasive gender identity issues. Like, I've wished I were a girl since I was like 7 or 8. The illegal drugs seemed to divert my focus elsewhere, take my mind off the fact that I'm some sort of pervert. But now that I'm laying around all the time, these issues are once again front and center. Like every time I see a pretty girl, I get jealous of her and wish I looked like her. Which I guess is true for a lot of girls too. But at least they don't feel like a pervert every time they think that.

    I hate my life. Why does everything have to be so stupid and pointlessly complicated? I know there are people worse off than me. There are lepers in India who can't say certain sounds because their lips have fallen off, but at least they want to go on living. At least they have something driving them, as unfathomable as that is to me. But I just can't stop seeing the world as a big stupid hamster wheel that we're all supposed to just keep running on until we die. And I'm all out of plans.
  2. total eclipse

    total eclipse SF Friend Staff Alumni

    WEll hun i am glad you got all those thoughts out of your head i did read your post I think depression does color ones way of seeing life and your depression still needs to be looked at.
    There are better meds out there now also better therapies you can look at Finding that right therapist could be the one thing that will help pull you onto a different path Welcome to SF hun i hope you continue to reach out and make new friends here hugs
  3. lonely77

    lonely77 New Member

    I read the whole thing and I feel for you. Life is just a never-ending punishment and it doesn't get any better. I'm also 29. Like you I have the same gender identity issues. I pretty sure I have ADHD. Tried lots of depression medication and nothing worked.

    I've never done illegal drugs though because no matter how good they make you feel, it's just a lie.

    I just wish there was a easy, painless and sure way to just check out of this world.
  4. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Well, thanks. Maybe I should go back to seeing a therapist, I mean I've been wanting to get some of that crap off my chest for a long time. Problem is, my therapist would have to report to probation, and I've kind of been lying to various therapists and psychiatrists and saying I'm done with drugs and that they ruined my life and I'm glad to be rid of them, because that's what they want to hear, and it looks good to the judge. But honestly, my life was awesome when I was using drugs. I kept thinking to myself, I can't believe I love my life this much. Like, every day. That's the part I don't know what to do about.

    And I've been on eleven different medications, not counting the ADD ones. Every time I go on a new medication, I think, this could be the one that works! And then the only effect it has on me is that it makes my skin flake and peel. Awesome.

    I can keep myself going as long as I hold out hope that things will improve. It's just that I'm starting to wonder what to hope for. It's hard to keep hoping that one of these useless medication regimens will work. They never do. They never even come close. I mean, my only criterion is that it makes me prefer life to death, and none have even met that low, low bar. Unless you count illegal drugs.

    It doesn't help that I'm totally fearless. I'm really not afraid of anything. I used to sometimes drive at night really fast in the fog with no seat belt on deserted roads. Then I'd see how long I could close my eyes for before I'd start to feel afraid and open them. I stopped doing that because it was stupid and pointless. But it doesn't change the fact that nothing scares me. That's the big problem. A lot of depressed people are too scared to die, but I'm not, at all. If I learned I would die tomorrow, and there was nothing I could do about it, I'd be happy. I keep hoping I get some sort of fatal cancer where I'd be able to say goodbye to everyone in my life, and they could all cry and tell me stuff, and then I'd be dead.
  5. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    I've gone over the ethics of using illegal drugs in my head over and over. The thing with me is, the drugs made me feel better, but they also gave me tons of energy to do everything I'd always wished I could do. I had real friends. I had a real job that paid real money. I had a real social life. None of that was a lie. And even if it was, it's no worse of a lie that the lies we all tell ourselves every day; that we're important, that we matter, that our lives are significant in the grand scheme of things. No matter how I look at it, life is, at best, a series of distractions to keep us from thinking too much about our own mortality.

    I've thought about different ways of killing myself so much that I'm not sure how I could really ever be a normal person. There are so many, many ways. My method du jour is jumping off a 200 foot precipice. It'd be like I was flying, and then my life would be over in a fraction of a second. Shit, why the hell am I even saying this stuff? I keep trying to decide which of three options I should do: wait until I can use illegal drugs again and do so, kill myself, or keep feeling like shit because society tells me I can't truly be happy unless I'm "clean and sober". (and makes damn sure that that's true, via the enforcement of drug laws)

    I've tried to stick it out with the last one, because I guess there's always the hope that there'll be a medication out there that somehow magically makes things better, but I lose a little more hope with each new useless medication.
  6. AlienBeing

    AlienBeing Well-Known Member

    Your depression problems sound a lot like mine. I tried Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation and it didn't work but it did no harm either and helps 1/3 of people with treatment resistant depression which is what you have. So you might want to enquire about it at your local psych hospital or just google it and your closest large city as there are private clinics that offer it as well. I'm trying Magnetic Seizure Therapy next in January--an even newer treatment. Then there's the operation that implants a stimulator directly into your brain too. That's a possibility. There's also trials for Ketamine going on. I won't do ECT because I'm 2 credits away from a degree in Chemistry and Laboratory Medicine and I need my memory. Just go to and search "Depression, TMS or MST or Ketamine etc. " The advantage of clinical trials is they are all free and in the States they even pay all your travel and living expenses if you have to travel far to participate. A further advantage is once you're a patient with them they take you on as their responsibility and even if the current trial doesn't do anything for you, they keep trying different things. They don't give up. That would be my first suggestion.

    I've never done drugs but your experience with Meth makes me seriously want to try a little of it, seriously. I mean what is there to lose if you have no life without it? If the above doesn't work out or you don't want to do it, I say move to India and use meth as long as you are really, really sure you won't be punished for it. Or try it again but for god's sake don't carry it across the border with you. That was really stupid. Just don't get caught by doing something stupid like that.
  7. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    I'll look into that clinical trials thing. Thanks for the link.

    That was the trouble with meth, it made me more reckless and I'm already too reckless as it is. Carrying it across the border was really stupid, but I felt like nothing would go wrong. But I was more talkative, WAY more confident, more interested in sex, better at sex, more energetic, better at just about everything, I only needed to sleep half as much, etc. I'm not sure how long I could have kept it up, and only managed to do so for a year and a half. Not sure if I could have kept that up for the rest of my life. But once I started I couldn't stop. I just kept thinking to myself that my life had improved so much, that it didn't matter if it made me die 20 years sooner, it was worth it. I still feel that way, and I haven't even used the stuff since July 2010.

    By the way, methamphetamine is a prescribable drug, under the name Desoxyn, which can be used to treat ADD and narcolepsy, although most doctors won't prescribe it. I looked into getting a prescription at one point, but it would have cost me over $500 a month, not counting the monthly doctor visits, and I didn't have insurance at the time. You can buy that amount on the street for $100 or make it yourself for about $10. Just shows who the REAL criminals are.
  8. AlienBeing

    AlienBeing Well-Known Member

    What if I just used less, just enough to feel more normal, not superhuman? That might work. I might be able to make it fairly easily with some knowledge of chemistry and lab experience... I'd keep it very secret and only make a bit of it for me.

    There's also deep TMS or dTMS. That's what I actually started with. It's still in clinical trials and hence free to try. I couldn't tolerate it though. It was too painful. I did 3 sessions in 3 days and had to stop. So they then offered me free regular TMS under their compassionate care program for being such a good sport and trying to help them with their clinical trial, I guess. But it didn't work. But now I'm joining another clinical trial they're running for MST, so we're mutually beneficial to one another, see? That's how these things work. And I don't feel used or taken advantage of or coerced into being their guinea pig in anyway. They always offer me multiple choices like, you can keep trying TMS (but it doesn't seem to be working if you ask us), you can try ECT, we can refer you to another hospital for an operation, you can try MST etc. and they go over all the pros and cons and risks and let me decide everything. I would put your closest large city and depression into the search first to see what's available nearby. The people in Maryland who are testing Ketamine offered me an all expenses paid trip from Canada to come try it though. I haven't taken them up on it yet.

    Here's a demonstration of dTMS. Not everyone finds it painful, as you can see from the video. There's also videos on TMS and brain implants in that same area of You Tube.
    The sound is the sound of the magnetic pulse going on and off in what they call "trains". It feels like a woodpecker hitting your head. With dTMS it's a much harder sensation than with regular TMS though, which I could tolerate. You can learn more about TMS from Wikipedia as well. This is also in clinical trials. Here's rTMS. You can still find clinical trials for it, as they are refining and testing stimulating different part of the brain and with different amounts. Or you can pay 12000 dollars for it, or you can (maybe) get for free after failing dTMS like me. But like the doctor in the above video said, it's not a miracle cure for everyone. It has a 1 in 3 success rate on people who've failed everything else psychiatry has to offer. They are hoping dTMS can improve those odds, so I'd try that first.

    Are you still running out of options, lol?
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 31, 2011
  9. Obsessive

    Obsessive Well-Known Member

    I can relate so much with the constant ruminations, inability to experience pleasure, absence of willpower, conversation difficulty, and long track record of ineffective/detrimental meds. I've been on so many ADHD and depression pills, had ECT and TMS, and seen almost a dozen therapists, all to no benefit. Illegal drugs has been an ongoing consideration of mine, but never had any means of access because I live with my parents and don't have any friends, which just makes me feel like even more of a loser because everyone treats them as just as easy to get as cigarettes. At this point I'm all out of treatment options. Due to my problems I function mentally like a child and have to rely on my parents completely, and they're refusing to allow me to go to a psychiatrist again because I've "already been on everything" (in spite of the fact that new ones come out all the time, and that people have retried previous drugs with success). So basically it's just sit on my hands until the day I die; my only two options are natural death and checking out early.

    I especially can relate to your perspective on the crappy office job for a living. Because of my issues all I can do is crappy office jobs, so I constantly fret over my difficulty with college, to which my parents are perpetually perplexed when I don't suddenly perk up when reminded that I can always stretch out the satisfaction and fulfillment of stapling invoices to PO's and sorting mail over the course of the rest of my life.

    I hope you hang on to your memories of how life should be lived, however short-lived, to remind yourself that you are a strong, incredible person. I envy you in that you can at least be secure in knowing that sans the brain chemistry issues you're capable of great things.

    Also, I complete agree with your outlook on life. Social psychology shows that the happiest people aren't the ones who see reality clearly, but the ones with the best psychological defense mechanisms from cognitive dissonance reduction to overestimation of their own abilities and importance. If "a lie" gave me a network of eager friends, a healthy romance and sex life, and the ability to spearhead through my studies to whatever future I desire I'd chuck "the truth" of the lifelong zombie shuffle out the window, then defecate on it for good measure. I don't necessarily mean to condone the use of outlawed drugs, but if you reach the point where the only alternative is the bottom of a cliff, then perhaps India isn't such a bad place to live...
  10. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Thanks. I don't want to sound like I'm recommending everyone use illegal drugs, and certainly didn't intend for my post to come across as an advertisement for meth, but the fact remains that during that year and a half I was using, my life was amazing, and I've been trying to reconcile that. I will say, it was not without side effects. I was always having to hide it from everyone, and that didn't feel good at all. I became more irritable, and often had a hard time tearing myself away from my work to spend time with my friends or my girlfriend. I probably overdid it at times, and those times it msade me a huge overconfident asshole, which is like exactly the opposite of my normal personality. I ended up getting in a huge fight with my brother and he kicked me out of his house. I later made up with him, but there was a lot of fallout. The real danger is that if you take enough of it, you can make all your worries and doubts and insecurities go away, which isn't a good thing either. I was able to control it when I took it orally, but then lost a lot of control when I started smoking it, which is a really bad idea.

    I didn't really expect anyone to even let me think I had the option of going back to using drugs, especially drugs with as bad of a reputation as meth has. But I have to admit, that's preferable to killing myself, which is like all I've been able to think about for the last month or so. I do plan to stick with whatever medication regimens they tell me to until I'm done with probation, but after that, I plan to high-tail it out of the US. I've been looking into other stimulants as well; for example, 4-methylaminorex seems to be a less harsh stimulant, and it isn't even illegal in India.

    Obsessive - I cried a little when I read your third paragraph, because you somehow put your finger on exactly what thoughts have been keeping me going this far. And you're right, I do have that year and a half of awesome memories; of my girlfriend and I singing "Tubthumping" at the tops of our lungs driving through the countryside; of organizing a camping trip for the Indian grad students to my parents' farm; lying next to my girlfriend before we were officially together next to the bonfire; spending hours upon hours working on robotics projects in my lab, then going home to my girlfriend's warm bed, exhausted but happy; driving to Maryland on a road trip with my girlfriend, having her sitting next to me jokingly trying to turn me on, then pulling over and having sex in the car behind a closed restaurant; driving my girlfriend around to get ingredients for her cooking, smelling all the spices as she prepared Indian food, then eating it around the table in the living room; dressing up as Fonzie for Halloween, and getting a picture taken with my girlfriend who was dressed as Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction; going ice skating for my 27th birthday, then because I'd never been to one before, getting a couple of my girlfriend's friends together and going to a porn store and laughing at all the stuff there and not buying anything; smoking a hookah laced with weed while listening to trance music with friends, then going to my room and having awesome sex with my girlfriend, where we had simultaneous orgasms. Reminiscing on this, it sort of feels like this was all stuff that happened to someone else, that it couldn't be me because I'm not capable of enjoying life like that. But I know it was me because I have all these memories still, and I think about them and I cry, but I cry with a smile on my face. It's just that I'm so torn up because what I did was very illegal, and yet it unlocked abilities in me that I didn't think were possible for me to ever have. But yeah, knowing I'm somehow capable of loving my life, is one of the few things keeping me going sometimes.
  11. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Shit - I went out for new years to a Japanese hibachi restaurant, and I was just depressed as hell. I went out with friends, but I just didn't feel like talking to anyone. And there were all these girls out wearing cute dresses and high heeled boots and pretty hairdos and earrings, and it just reopened that decades-old longing in me, wishing I could be one of them. Fuck. I hate this. And then a weird thing happened. Like, whenever I think of suicide, I always kind of picture it as a locked door. Like, it exists, but I can't go there. And then today, it was like the door opened in my mind. Like, I can see through the door now. And it's all blackness.

    Fuck. I'd be a horrible father. What kid would ever want a dad who wishes he were a woman? And I'm terribly unreliable and a bad role model to boot. I keep telling myself I've got to at least make it to my meeting with my lawyer, so she can tell me how much time about that I'll have to spend on probation. But I'm feeling like I don't really even care anymore.
  12. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Damn it. The meeting with my lawyer was postponed a week. I'm kind of looking forward to it, but I keep thinking, I hope they decide to throw the book at me, so I can feel justified in ending my life. Like, every time I hear a story about people dying in car crashes or in hunting accidents or whatever, I always think, why couldn't that have been me? I'm not really afraid of anything anymore. Except jail, because jails are designed specifically to make it almost impossible to kill yourself. And they can force you to stay there for really long periods of time.

    I've kind of made up my mind that if I get longer than two years of probation, I'll kill myself, and if I get less than that, I'll try and stick it out. I really can't deal with this shit anymore. My depression comes and goes, but it's gotten to the point where I'm only not depressed for about one day a week on average. It used to only be about half the time. And my criteria for determining if I'm depressed has been "if I found out I was going to die tomorrow, would I be glad?" It's usually yes.

    And the lows seem like they just keep getting lower. Like, the reasons I have to keep living seem like they disappear the more tightly I clutch onto them. And I have to find new reasons. Like, I used to think that the beauty in the world was reason to go on. But now the whole world just seems ugly and disgusting and stupid and pointless. Sure, there's bound to be beauty outside of the Western Federal District of New York State, but due to court order, I'm not allowed to leave it, and haven't been for over a year. Then, I told myself that if I felt like I had nothing to lose, I may as well use drugs again, or flee the country. But odds are very high that I would just get caught by the police and forced back in jail, where they strap you to a metal chair if you try to kill yourself. Now, my reason for going on is that this depression makes me a wiser person, and that the world could probably benefit from any wisdom I might accrue while in this state. But now I keep thinking that that's an awfully egocentric thing to think, and besides, the only "wisdom" I've been able to pick up is that the world is devoid of any real meaning, and that it's better to be stupid and content than wise and in a state of despair. Besides, the shit I'm going through is nothing new, and there are plenty of people wiser than me.

    I wish I'd been raised in a more secular environment instead of by my super-religious mom. Then, maybe I'd have a foundation for morality and meaning and purpose beyond the "invisible sky-man will burn you alive forever if you don't". But the Bible did get some things right. For example, the foolish man builds his house upon the sand, and the wise man builds his house upon the rock. Unfortunately, it then goes on to imply that the metaphorical rock is a book of self-contradictory nomadic fairy tales. And in my youth, my house was build upon the sand, which was destroyed by an earthquake of evidence. If I ever get through this, and have kids someday, I swear I will burn any children's bible storybooks my mom tries to give them. Or at least, present it as a book of Christian mythology, alongside the much more interesting Greek and Norse mythology.

    And even on the 4-5 days a month when I'm not depressed, I still have ADD to contend with, which makes it virtually impossible to do any work without it being some sort of epic struggle. Hell, that's probably the main reason I'm depressed, but again, thanks to the fact that there are drug charges against me, ADD medication will probably remain impossible for me to legally obtain for the foreseeable future.
  13. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Damn it. I have that meeting with my lawyer tomorrow, but I feel like I can't wait that long. All the joy has been sapped out of my life. On average, I have about one day a week where I don't want to kill myself, but I haven't had one of those days now in about two weeks. I heard this one sappy Oprah-esque radio program the other day, and the host said something to the effect of, "if you don't have love, nothing else matters". And I realized, that's me. I'm like, incapable of love. My family loves me, I don't doubt that, but to be honest, I don't love them. I don't love anyone, myself included. And I ESPECIALLY don't love imaginary deities that would have me tortured for eternity. To be honest, if either of my parents died, I would just try and take advantage of the sympathy people would have for me, but I really don't think it would bother me that much. I don't want to cause anyone else pain, though. I used to be able to love people, years before I started using drugs, and while I was using drugs. It felt pretty great. Like, I kept feeling like I was so fortunate to be me because of all the great people I had in my life. But before and after my drug use, I just felt like there just wasn't anything for me in life. Like, there was nothing I wanted enough to put in the effort necessary to get it. Maybe I've reached nirvana, the state of desiring nothing. But I guess there are things that I want. Like, I want to be able to feel joy and happiness and really anything that would make me want to live another day.

    Oh, and today my dad got pissed at me for going into the house early after helping him fill the manure spreader. He said I'm gonna have to spend all this extra time out in the barn now, helping him play farmer. He has this ridiculously small farm, that I think is the epitome of pointlessness, and which I was so happy to escape from when I graduated from high school. I was so glad after I put in my time and didn't have to do all that pointless manual labor anymore. I actually kind of hope he sticks to that promise, since it'll make it a lot easier not to feel bad for him. To be honest, he's been pretty good though, about not forcing me to do too much work, since he knows it depresses the shit out of me. But that just leaves me feeling useless, since I really am pretty useless for just about everything in this state.

    Today, my thought keeping me going is that if I kill myself, everybody is going to have their own stupid theory for why I did it, and they're probably going to all be wrong. My mom is going to say it's because I "turned away from God" or some shit like that. Well, if God is the sort of insecure sadist that would torture you for eternity for not lavishing enough praise on him... well, that's the type of God that should be turned away from. I actually have been reading various religious philosophies lately, and I think reincarnation is a lot more likely that either boiling in lava or sitting around telling God how wonderful he is. Reincarnation (albeit, with all your memories wiped. they're part of your physical brain after all) seems to fit with the general theme of the universe, where no one's in charge and it all just kind of runs itself. So it's probably either that or we just disappear after we die. Either one is better than this shit.

    I've done pretty well in school and such, and I keep thinking that I could do a lot of good in the world if I could go back to using the sorts of drugs that have allowed me to escape this depression pit. But the more I see, the more I realize that the world's gonna be ok without me. There are so many great people out there that are moving humanity forward, and they can do their jobs just fine, and without having to resort to illegal drugs to boot. So maybe I'd be better off as a teacher, helping raise the next generation. But, who'd want a drug user with a criminal record teaching their kids? Nobody I know.
  14. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    (written yesterday but not posted)
    Well, turns out my dad made me help him play farmer after all, but he wasn't as much of a dick about it as he could have been. The whole time I was out in the barn, I kept thinking, just imagine not having to do this shit ever again! And I was happy. I was thinking about the best way to pull this off without everyone I know thinking it was their fault somehow. It's really no one's fault but mine, I'm just a really shitty person. Or without everyone putting too much emphasis on my drug use. Believe me, I wouldn't start using dangerous drugs if I cared at all about my own life or health. My drug use was really just a last-ditch effort to save myself, that somehow succeeded far beyond my expectations. But if that didn't work, suicide has always been at the back of my mind. I'm debating what to do based on what I learn from my lawyer tomorrow. If my only option is to plead guilty to a felony and/or serve two years of probation, I'll be excited. My decision will be made for me, and I can waste no time plummetting to my doom. If my lawyer has made an agreement for a misdemeanor, and I'm likely to get 18 months of probation, I'll be pissed. That's like, right at the border of where I've made the decision to stick it out, and I'll try and stick it out, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to. But still I'll be pissed, because it's 18 more months I'll have to deal with this shit, at least. If it's a misdemeanor and I get six months of probation, I'll be happy, because it's only six months, then I can high-tail it out of the US, and start using drugs again, and thus, be able to work again. Or if not that, go back to using ADD medication so I can work again, whether at a job or finishing my degree.

    What I'm really afraid will happen tomorrow, is that I learn virtually nothing new, I have no idea when my next court date is, or my court date ends up being some time next summer, with zero news on possible sentencing.

    (written today)
    Well, had the meeting today. I sort of made a deal with God, even though I don't really believe he exists. If the prosecutor was going to be easy on me, and give me a year or less before I can leave the country, then that meant that my life plans, which I guess don't matter now, were on the right track, and I should proceed with them. If I could get away with a low level offense, and potentially leave the country after two years or so, then that meant I was on the wrong track, and should do what everyone else told me to do. If I got no new information today, that would mean either God doesn't exist or he doesn't care what the hell I do. And finally, if my only option is pleading guilty to a felony and having to wait more than three years before I can leave the country, then either God hates me or I'm better off dead. And yes, my only option is pleading guilty to a felony, and I won't be allowed to leave the country until five years after my probation, which will probably be about two years long. So at least seven years until I can leave the country. Fuck me. So God, you've got between now and when I get to my destination to stop me somehow, if you give a shit. Good luck!

    Oh, and apparently my only way out involves caring enough about anything to force myself to put on a show of trying to look like all this shitty useless medication has actually changed my life, and I'm doing just fine now. The laws seem ridiculous and over-the-top, but as I've been told over and over, I don't get to make the laws. I feel horrible about what my family will have to go through, and wish I could say something that would help. But I really doubt there is. The only thing I can think of to say is that if it wasn't for them, I would have almost certainly killed myself much, much sooner. Probably in 2005 or 2007, which were both were the worst depression of my life at the time they happened. So instead of thinking they should have done something, they should know that they really, truly did, and the last year and a half of my life was lived not for me, but for them. I hope that's something. And as badly as I wanted to end my own life in December, I got through it so I wouldn't ruin the holidays for anyone. And to anyone who wants to say "I just saw him, and he seemed fine to me.", of course I seemed fine! When you've been depressed your whole life, you get a lot of practice pretending you're fine. It's like, all you do. People tell you stuff like, "you better get your ass moving if you want to X", and you just want to say that honestly, you don't give a shit about X or anything else in this world. But instead, you just make up a lame excuse.
  15. sihuskyzoi

    sihuskyzoi Well-Known Member

    I feel you. My legal charges haven't even been filed yet, but they are coming down the line. Felony fraud. Wanna know why... I'm godawful at paperwork and trudged through best I could. Not okay, but not malicious. My career will end. And guess how many people hire felons?? Ha!! Dedicated my life to others, and end up here. What's funny.... a decent lawyer could do wonders with this. But no money, no credit, no property equals fucked. I have friends that got loans to buy duplexes to rent out. A condition of the loan is to live on site for a year. Did she.... no. Did she say she did? Yes. Fraud. Only difference, she never got caught. Funny, huh? Like everything in the world... money buys freedom and money buys hope. I'm done. Haven't got the guts to follow through yet is all. To you I say: I hope you find a reason to go on here. And if you don't, godspeed.
  16. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Thanks. Sometimes when you're this depressed, it feels like you're the only one, but as perverse as it might sound, I'm glad there are other people going through this type of shit too. I wish it were 50+ years ago. Then I could flee the country and not worry about international police coming after me, wild-eyed, in the name of "justice". Yes, it's justice to send someone to jail for two years, and make him a convicted felon for the rest of his life, for driving to Canada, buying five boxes of cold medicine from a grocery store, and then driving back to the US. Every time I hear some politician say how America is the country of "liberty and justice for all" or "freedom" I want to puke. I'd be freer in any third-world country than I am here. At least there, the cost of bribing the police or government officials is low enough for many citizens to afford. Here, you need millions of dollars, or at least a hundred thousand or so.

    Well, I'm still here. Wanna know why? Because I'm too lazy. I had all my notes written out last night, and as soon as my parents went to bed, my plan was to get in my car and drive to some ledge somewhere. (I know where, but I think methods are off-limit) I had this whole list of shit I had to do first. I had to first, drive to the general area where I was going to jump from, find an unsecured wireless network, send emails to a few different people, update my facebook page, scout out the area to make sure there was an accessible jump-off point, leave some copies of this page that I printed out around for people to find, in case they had any questions, which they would. Write emails to a few people with political connections, who would hopefully use my case as an example of why we need to change drug policy laws, etc.

    And then I got in my car, turned the key and thought "shit, that sounds like too much work" and went to bed. That's all it was. Not that I wanted to go on living, just that it was late, I was tired, and I didn't want to do all the work associated with ending my own life.

    This morning my dad was yelling at me for not caring about something, and threatened to call my grandparents. My parents had been lying to them and acting like everything was fine. So I said fine, go ahead. And I told my grandparents about my depression and that my parents had been lying to them, but not about my legal issues. So now my grandparents really want to be part of helping me, which kind of makes me feel better. And also, my parents look like huge jerks, which oddly makes me feel better too. Plus, I think my parents have been focusing too much on my legal issues and not on my mental health issues, which were the underlying cause of my legal issues.

    So I'm in the process of making an appointment with a counselor and a new psychiatrist. But damned if I didn't come frighteningly close to ending my own life yesterday.

    edit: anyone with legal issues who dreams of fleeing the country should read the book Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts. It's a semi-autobiographical account of his own escape from jail, and his subsequent hiding out in India. Unfortunately, that was back in the 80s when the world wasn't quite as much of a police state.
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 18, 2012
  17. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Still wanna kill myself.... has it been a month now? It feels like it, and new episodes of "My Little Pony" don't seem like enough of a reason to go on anymore. Though, to be fair, they do tip the balance in that direction somewhat. If I heard about an upcoming My Little Pony movie, I would definitely have to live to see it. And not those crappy ones they made in the nineties either. Friendship is Magic or bust!

    Anymore, it's not whether or not I'm suicidal, I always am. Like, every time I read about someone being killed in an accident, I wish it was me. Then everyone could mourn me without feeling guilty. It's more, how suicidal I am. Like, when I'm least suicidal, I still want to kill myself, just not until my grandparents die, or some other event in the future happens. When I'm most suicidal, if I had a pistol in my hand, I'd put it to my head and shoot it. Usually, it's "I want to kill myself within the month, but need to get some stuff in order first."
  18. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    So... had a hypomanic episode about a week ago. I was at my grandparents, helping my grandpa set up his computer for video editing. He used to edit video back when it was all on videotape, and he's had a bit of adjustment figuring out how to do it on the computer. Anyway, I noticed before I left, and after I left, that I seemed to have a lot more energy than usual. It was pretty nice, being able to do stuff without feeling like it was an insurmountable task. And then after a while it felt like I had too much energy. I couldn't sleep, and kept pacing the house, from the kitchen to the den. Eventually I went outside and ran/walked about five miles around the block. I still wasn't tired, but my feet were sore. It was like I had so much energy it was uncomfortable. On the way home it was all I could do not to speed. When I got home I couldn't stop pacing, and then went outside and did a whole bunch of work. It subsided after a couple of days, and now it's gotten to a pretty decent level. Like, I have more energy than usual, but it's not uncomfortable. In the last few days I've done a lot to try and get my life back on track, with some limited success. I'm still not all that attached to my life, although it doesn't seem quite so hopeless, but I have no idea how long this will last. But if I knew I was going to die, I don't think I'd care all that much.

    I'm going to try and see if my professor would be willing to hire me part time at his company. Again, I'm feeling a lot better now, but I don't know for how long. This up and down mood with me having no control over it is really taking its toll on me though. I hope this time things will be different, but if the past is any indication, it won't be.
  19. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Surprise, I crashed. Now I find I'm wishing for death again. No desire to go back to work, or go to class, or really do anything that will improve my life. Got a speeding ticket during my hypomanic phase, I keep wanting to write "FUCK YOU PIGS" on it in huge black marker letters and mail it in, before I go and jump off a bridge. Eh, it'll only cost me like $500 what with the ticket and my other ticket and the driver responsibility assessment fee. God dammit, how do people manage to care about anything?
  20. vir

    vir Well-Known Member

    Damn it. It feels like the only reason I even exist anymore is to be punished for breaking rules. Punishments usually involve shelling out money hand over fist which my parents have been doing on my behalf, but shit, I can't keep doing this. I'm probably going to end up losing my driver's license, which will make it really hard to drive to a bridge to jump off of, so maybe I ought to just get that out of the way now. So, for anyone reading this after I'm gone, the reasons for my departure are 1) Depression 2) My inability to access ADD medication, and the mess I've made of my life as a result, and 3) My legal situation. Although 3 is a direct cause of both 1 and 2, so I guess they're all related. But my problem is not and never was drugs. With 3 or 4 minor exceptions that all happened over a month ago, I haven't used any illegal drugs in the last year. My depression just keeps getting worse, and this voice in the back of my head keeps telling me it's my destiny and that this is something I need to do. Not like I have voices in my head or anything, just that I have this strong feeling that suicide is the right decision for me. If not today, then tomorrow or Sunday.
    Last edited by a moderator: Feb 10, 2012
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