I feel guilty writing here, because I saw other forum entries, other people with issues and concerns some even obviously more pressing and wicked than my own. But, I couldn't sustain the will to respond to them thoughtfully, it seemed many other people already had and the forums are not massively active, so it was unusual to enter a conversation days later.
I am not homeless, don't suffer addiction or financial hardships. My physiological needs are met, I have access to psychiatry and psychology.
Alas, I do not enjoy life. I do not connect with any human being, I am social in nature maybe extroverted, I am not sure. I am an immigrant here, I have been here since age 5, I have never really felt alike or in common with my peers. At times I have had active socialisation in my routine, I have had numbers of friends, attended parties gatherings etc. etc.
It was all kind of situational, seemingly friends were just had for the sake of it during the school days. Now most of my old friends I have removed myself from for seeming betrayal or insufficient moral standards, they're comfortable treating people poorly. I don't have interest in entertaining those types, I hence have no one around. I don't want those friends anyway, they don't care about me really, it seems everyone around me is self-serving by a very large degree. I find this strange because I don't see myself as self-serving, I enjoy reciprocity in friendships or any relationship, I really value it. Why am I so rare? So different.
No one seemingly values or cares about my integrity of character. My compassion, empathy, honesty. These moral standards don't mean anything. The youth of today are interested in chasing cheap and fast pleasures, be it gambling, drinking, drugs, whatever else. Social media, I don't appreciate the fakeness of my demographic, honestly I can't stand it. My honesty shocks them, I am just honest and comfortable in who I am. But I have no one, and I have never had romance despite being a really caring person and attractive enough. I don't know exactly why, I guess I have a fear of rejection and push the opportunities away before they might hurt me. But also the state of the women available, not physically but personally are really disappointing. Such shallow interests, no one is interested in the poetic lens of life, the deep philosophical thoughts, scientific explanations of the world, the shortcomings or proficiencies of the way the world is managed. I feel like there's more important things to talk about than which celebrity is being alleged of whatever the media have decided to run with this week, and what hand bag said celebrity is taking to the award ceremony. It is so so crippling, to look out everyday and just see the most disappointing world to engage with. People will not sustain the attention for anything more than 15 seconds now upon the rise of tiktok, the days of deep and meaningful human engagement are regressing.
I make huge provisions for the sake of fighting my depression and anxiety and have done for years. I started treatment in 2018 at the age of 15 although suffering from anxiety and depressive tendencies for years prior. Ive been on 10+ medications, had 12 round of ECT, seen maybe 5-6 different psychologists, 3-4 different psychiatrists, 10 or more GP's. Always medications have been insufficient and if showing any effectiveness, it seemingly never lasts. Then theres the side effects, they often don't merit the miserable effects of the drugs. This is me, please don't let my story discourage you to seek medications that might change your life. I suppose the real tragedy is that im in the small minority. 50% of individuals enter remission on their first medication, and of those that didn't receive a therapeutic effect, they will on their second drug: 50% of them. That resultantly concludes that 75% of the initial pool of depressed patients have been successfully treated by their second medication trial. I've been training hard, intensely in the gym for 2+ hours a day for nearly 2 years now. I eat nothing but beef, this elimination diet, that has yes actually relieved anxiety and depressive symptoms which is always welcome, but not enough to achieve wellbeing. I've been on all types of adrenergic medications like venlafaxine and mirtazapine <mod edit--rule 9>. One night at the emergency department I think my blood pressure would near 200 systolic just sitting down, thats the state of emotional unrest I was in as a result of the drug. That was like 375mg though. But even at that the antidepressant effect wasn't enough, forever I would go up a dose, receive therapeutic effect briefly and then relapse to depression before increasing again. Then I was on 375mg and had to taper down which was hell, and induced suicidality further, the problem with that drug is it makes you really restless and agitated such that Youd actually <mod edit--methods>, the more emotional depression I was used to wasn't as volatile it was hell and total despair and hopelessness but it didn't make your heart thump out of your chest like you needed to act RIGHT NOW. Similar experience on mirtazapine and olanzapine too, which was added to my venlafaxine to try and increase its activation or something, according to my psychiatrist. Im pretty sure it was for depression, not psychosis, it was a low dose. I haven't had real psychosis consistently at any point in my life indicative of schizophrenia although my brother does have quite obvious schizophrenia.
I am typing out this sob story of mine not to beg for pity, or to explain how my problems are bigger than yours but just to explain how I have come to the conclusions of thought that I have, that life really isn't worth living. Like, I work so hard to overcome depression which is not easy for a depressed person as we all know, the psychomotor retardation effects make it feel like washing your hair or getting out of bed, or cooking your meal is an absolutely hellish and difficult chore. So to go to the gym and explicitly discipline myself to eat only one thing and go through the diligent years of learning psychiatry and neuroscience to try and find my answers and facilitate my recovery I am really fucking fed up. Like all my efforts are absolutely fucking fruitless, and no one sees them, no one knows how hard i've worked, I just look like this kid gifted with intelligence whos made nothing of himself, lazy seeming, a true shame. Unattractive to anyone really, dependent on my parents at 20. To do all the research on the medications and go through all the horrible side effects and develop IBS and autoimmune intolerances as a result, like I have been through quite a bit of hell, although believe me I am aware there are others who have it worse, don't think for a second I am not aware. I've read the Gulag Archipelago, I really can't believe how those people existed and did that,and didn't kill themselves. They make me look a joke, but my situation is as it lies, I can't just manifest some thought like: Oh think about the pain they went through you have nothing to cry about. It doesn't work, I wish it did but it doesn't. I cant help but hate my life and feel sorry for myself, even though I know it does me no good.
I've listened and read Jordan Peterson's work alot which has been a large guidance in the darkness of suffering but as much as I try to adopt his teachings I am suffering consistently.
Part of me wants to blame my neurology, that I was born with a depression and anxiety out of my control, part of me wants to blame my parents for having birthed me, part of me wants to blame myself for being undisciplined although honestly I dont believe it to be honest, its moreso a subconscious rumination the typical negative self talk manifesting in blaming the self. But, the more I have learned about mental illness and biology the less I really believe its anything to do with 'free will' whatever the hell that word means, anyone whos been on psychiatric medications that are potent, I believe could comment on the absence of free will. When you see how much adrenaline can change your behaviour, a shift in neurology its pretty ridiculous to suggest people have any control over what they do.
Part of me feels I am in the wrong place, maybe surrounded by a family with more rich intellectual insight, or surrounded by like minded people. Prosocial people, good reciprocal relationships and maybe a love life, then I wouldn't be depressed. A job or a field of study equal to my potential, a Job. I want to be a psychiatrist, I think anyway. I don't want anything though. I don't want anything but to be dead.
I fucking hate suffering though, and as the typical overthinking neurotic anxious type person I forever overthink and can endlessly invision all the ways suicide can go wrong, and just how much I hate pain! Just how much I absolutely hate it, my absolute proclivity to be in pain. I remember my vicious IBS attacks before adopting my current diet, that was the closest to hell I have been. No break from the hell, for hours and hours and hours constant unbelievable pain. God, cancer patients are so insanely impressive I don't know how they can just suffer every fucking day those poor fucking souls, they come back and fight more, and get cancer again and again and keep fighting and don't want their family to feel bad for them etc. Anyway: I have had my fair share of suffering, and I believe what Jordan Peterson said, that suffering is as real as real can be, it can even be seen as the meaning of life, and the reason its so real is because, try proving its not! What makes something real isn't exactly obvious so its a good point. But he suggests the only thing more powerful than suffering is love, and I feel I have no love in my heart. I feel my parents don't understand my situation at all and are unconsciously resentful of my dependency and emotional volatility etc etc etc. I really have no love in my heart for anyone, Im not a hateful person, but I have alot of negative emotion for humanity and the world and, perhaps even God if such a thing exists. I feel like there being a God makes more sense than no god.
Anyway, what I am getting at is: I want to be dead, I'd much rather be dead than continue on because no one wants me, and im gifted with a great brain I can't make any use of. I feel as useless and unwanted as could be. I feel like a square being pushed into a circle hole, I just dont belong here, I don't fit its the wrong reality the wrong universe, incompatible. <mod edit--methods>
Anyway, If it works and I die, what then. Does anyone know or think they know what that'd be like, would the suffering stop? Where would I go? Would I suffer more in hell? So much chaos and uncertainty, and its the chaos and uncertainty of this world that induces the perpetual anxiety and stress that induces the depression but the suicide is just as chaotic and uncertain. Is god real, will he hate me for what I have done? I don't know how the hell can I know. If he is why should I care, why do I deserve to suffer, if hes real, then he did this to me didnt he? He gave me a life of suffering he made me suffer, whyd he do that whyd i deserve that. Is he then a cruel and sadistic individual, why should I honour him. Maybe i should hate him. Theres absolutely no certainty its a solution, maybe its eternal blackness like the life before we were born, we didnt necessarily care we werent conscious, we werent real, we werent alive. But then again I dont remember being in pain during birth either, maybe ive just forgotten my previous life. God I just have no idea.
To those who have read this far, What do you think happens after you commit suicide? Does anyone else feel lonely or want to talk about these deep and dark philosophies, message me. Talk about anything I dont mind. I am caring and empathetic, not angry as I might seem here. This is anger at existence, not people i suppose. What happens after suicide, what do we think?
My heart goes out to all you suffering out there, I love you. You people are like me, you are so strong and undeserving of the hell that ensues.
I am not homeless, don't suffer addiction or financial hardships. My physiological needs are met, I have access to psychiatry and psychology.
Alas, I do not enjoy life. I do not connect with any human being, I am social in nature maybe extroverted, I am not sure. I am an immigrant here, I have been here since age 5, I have never really felt alike or in common with my peers. At times I have had active socialisation in my routine, I have had numbers of friends, attended parties gatherings etc. etc.
It was all kind of situational, seemingly friends were just had for the sake of it during the school days. Now most of my old friends I have removed myself from for seeming betrayal or insufficient moral standards, they're comfortable treating people poorly. I don't have interest in entertaining those types, I hence have no one around. I don't want those friends anyway, they don't care about me really, it seems everyone around me is self-serving by a very large degree. I find this strange because I don't see myself as self-serving, I enjoy reciprocity in friendships or any relationship, I really value it. Why am I so rare? So different.
No one seemingly values or cares about my integrity of character. My compassion, empathy, honesty. These moral standards don't mean anything. The youth of today are interested in chasing cheap and fast pleasures, be it gambling, drinking, drugs, whatever else. Social media, I don't appreciate the fakeness of my demographic, honestly I can't stand it. My honesty shocks them, I am just honest and comfortable in who I am. But I have no one, and I have never had romance despite being a really caring person and attractive enough. I don't know exactly why, I guess I have a fear of rejection and push the opportunities away before they might hurt me. But also the state of the women available, not physically but personally are really disappointing. Such shallow interests, no one is interested in the poetic lens of life, the deep philosophical thoughts, scientific explanations of the world, the shortcomings or proficiencies of the way the world is managed. I feel like there's more important things to talk about than which celebrity is being alleged of whatever the media have decided to run with this week, and what hand bag said celebrity is taking to the award ceremony. It is so so crippling, to look out everyday and just see the most disappointing world to engage with. People will not sustain the attention for anything more than 15 seconds now upon the rise of tiktok, the days of deep and meaningful human engagement are regressing.
I make huge provisions for the sake of fighting my depression and anxiety and have done for years. I started treatment in 2018 at the age of 15 although suffering from anxiety and depressive tendencies for years prior. Ive been on 10+ medications, had 12 round of ECT, seen maybe 5-6 different psychologists, 3-4 different psychiatrists, 10 or more GP's. Always medications have been insufficient and if showing any effectiveness, it seemingly never lasts. Then theres the side effects, they often don't merit the miserable effects of the drugs. This is me, please don't let my story discourage you to seek medications that might change your life. I suppose the real tragedy is that im in the small minority. 50% of individuals enter remission on their first medication, and of those that didn't receive a therapeutic effect, they will on their second drug: 50% of them. That resultantly concludes that 75% of the initial pool of depressed patients have been successfully treated by their second medication trial. I've been training hard, intensely in the gym for 2+ hours a day for nearly 2 years now. I eat nothing but beef, this elimination diet, that has yes actually relieved anxiety and depressive symptoms which is always welcome, but not enough to achieve wellbeing. I've been on all types of adrenergic medications like venlafaxine and mirtazapine <mod edit--rule 9>. One night at the emergency department I think my blood pressure would near 200 systolic just sitting down, thats the state of emotional unrest I was in as a result of the drug. That was like 375mg though. But even at that the antidepressant effect wasn't enough, forever I would go up a dose, receive therapeutic effect briefly and then relapse to depression before increasing again. Then I was on 375mg and had to taper down which was hell, and induced suicidality further, the problem with that drug is it makes you really restless and agitated such that Youd actually <mod edit--methods>, the more emotional depression I was used to wasn't as volatile it was hell and total despair and hopelessness but it didn't make your heart thump out of your chest like you needed to act RIGHT NOW. Similar experience on mirtazapine and olanzapine too, which was added to my venlafaxine to try and increase its activation or something, according to my psychiatrist. Im pretty sure it was for depression, not psychosis, it was a low dose. I haven't had real psychosis consistently at any point in my life indicative of schizophrenia although my brother does have quite obvious schizophrenia.
I am typing out this sob story of mine not to beg for pity, or to explain how my problems are bigger than yours but just to explain how I have come to the conclusions of thought that I have, that life really isn't worth living. Like, I work so hard to overcome depression which is not easy for a depressed person as we all know, the psychomotor retardation effects make it feel like washing your hair or getting out of bed, or cooking your meal is an absolutely hellish and difficult chore. So to go to the gym and explicitly discipline myself to eat only one thing and go through the diligent years of learning psychiatry and neuroscience to try and find my answers and facilitate my recovery I am really fucking fed up. Like all my efforts are absolutely fucking fruitless, and no one sees them, no one knows how hard i've worked, I just look like this kid gifted with intelligence whos made nothing of himself, lazy seeming, a true shame. Unattractive to anyone really, dependent on my parents at 20. To do all the research on the medications and go through all the horrible side effects and develop IBS and autoimmune intolerances as a result, like I have been through quite a bit of hell, although believe me I am aware there are others who have it worse, don't think for a second I am not aware. I've read the Gulag Archipelago, I really can't believe how those people existed and did that,and didn't kill themselves. They make me look a joke, but my situation is as it lies, I can't just manifest some thought like: Oh think about the pain they went through you have nothing to cry about. It doesn't work, I wish it did but it doesn't. I cant help but hate my life and feel sorry for myself, even though I know it does me no good.
I've listened and read Jordan Peterson's work alot which has been a large guidance in the darkness of suffering but as much as I try to adopt his teachings I am suffering consistently.
Part of me wants to blame my neurology, that I was born with a depression and anxiety out of my control, part of me wants to blame my parents for having birthed me, part of me wants to blame myself for being undisciplined although honestly I dont believe it to be honest, its moreso a subconscious rumination the typical negative self talk manifesting in blaming the self. But, the more I have learned about mental illness and biology the less I really believe its anything to do with 'free will' whatever the hell that word means, anyone whos been on psychiatric medications that are potent, I believe could comment on the absence of free will. When you see how much adrenaline can change your behaviour, a shift in neurology its pretty ridiculous to suggest people have any control over what they do.
Part of me feels I am in the wrong place, maybe surrounded by a family with more rich intellectual insight, or surrounded by like minded people. Prosocial people, good reciprocal relationships and maybe a love life, then I wouldn't be depressed. A job or a field of study equal to my potential, a Job. I want to be a psychiatrist, I think anyway. I don't want anything though. I don't want anything but to be dead.
I fucking hate suffering though, and as the typical overthinking neurotic anxious type person I forever overthink and can endlessly invision all the ways suicide can go wrong, and just how much I hate pain! Just how much I absolutely hate it, my absolute proclivity to be in pain. I remember my vicious IBS attacks before adopting my current diet, that was the closest to hell I have been. No break from the hell, for hours and hours and hours constant unbelievable pain. God, cancer patients are so insanely impressive I don't know how they can just suffer every fucking day those poor fucking souls, they come back and fight more, and get cancer again and again and keep fighting and don't want their family to feel bad for them etc. Anyway: I have had my fair share of suffering, and I believe what Jordan Peterson said, that suffering is as real as real can be, it can even be seen as the meaning of life, and the reason its so real is because, try proving its not! What makes something real isn't exactly obvious so its a good point. But he suggests the only thing more powerful than suffering is love, and I feel I have no love in my heart. I feel my parents don't understand my situation at all and are unconsciously resentful of my dependency and emotional volatility etc etc etc. I really have no love in my heart for anyone, Im not a hateful person, but I have alot of negative emotion for humanity and the world and, perhaps even God if such a thing exists. I feel like there being a God makes more sense than no god.
Anyway, what I am getting at is: I want to be dead, I'd much rather be dead than continue on because no one wants me, and im gifted with a great brain I can't make any use of. I feel as useless and unwanted as could be. I feel like a square being pushed into a circle hole, I just dont belong here, I don't fit its the wrong reality the wrong universe, incompatible. <mod edit--methods>
Anyway, If it works and I die, what then. Does anyone know or think they know what that'd be like, would the suffering stop? Where would I go? Would I suffer more in hell? So much chaos and uncertainty, and its the chaos and uncertainty of this world that induces the perpetual anxiety and stress that induces the depression but the suicide is just as chaotic and uncertain. Is god real, will he hate me for what I have done? I don't know how the hell can I know. If he is why should I care, why do I deserve to suffer, if hes real, then he did this to me didnt he? He gave me a life of suffering he made me suffer, whyd he do that whyd i deserve that. Is he then a cruel and sadistic individual, why should I honour him. Maybe i should hate him. Theres absolutely no certainty its a solution, maybe its eternal blackness like the life before we were born, we didnt necessarily care we werent conscious, we werent real, we werent alive. But then again I dont remember being in pain during birth either, maybe ive just forgotten my previous life. God I just have no idea.
To those who have read this far, What do you think happens after you commit suicide? Does anyone else feel lonely or want to talk about these deep and dark philosophies, message me. Talk about anything I dont mind. I am caring and empathetic, not angry as I might seem here. This is anger at existence, not people i suppose. What happens after suicide, what do we think?
My heart goes out to all you suffering out there, I love you. You people are like me, you are so strong and undeserving of the hell that ensues.
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