Depression Rambles [ Dump Thread ]

I wrote a wall. Surprise big not.

Spoiler

So. Let's get this straight and in the clear. Why did I make this? I made it for me. I'm writing this for myself because by now, I know that I enjoy writing. And by now, I've become accustomed to share what I write. So why am I sharing this? Why am I sitting here, right now, feeling the need to share what I'm thinking about myself?

Is it sympathy? No. No, in fact, I don't want sympathy. If anything, this winter has shown me something. And it hasn't even shown me anything new. It's shown me what I've forgotten. I don't need or want sympathy because looking for sympathy will destroy you. You'll crave that feeling of being noticed, cared for, and paid attention to. But you'll always come back down to the reality, that in the end, you're the one doing it alone. And it will always be that way.

Is it attention? Yes and no. I'm used to sharing my thoughts now. It's an automatic reaction that's come with loosening my own reservations and constrictions. So why am I sharing this, with everybody? Why not just talk to a friend in private? Why not just keep my personal business in the background like I used to?

The sad fact is, the company I keep is in no shape to hear what I have to say. The company I keep are in the same boat I am. Wound up in their busy lives, wound up and constricted in their problems and woes and the last thing they need, is to listen to ramblings from my head. And most of all, half of them can never, ever respond.

How do you approach someone who's just emptied what's really on their mind, and they've shown you something ugly? How do you reconcile them? You don't. You can't. And it hurts me. I search for someone to listen and talk back to me but the reality is, I will never find that. I will never find anybody who can say anything back to me and fix things with speech because the ugly truth is, I have to go through with all of this alone.

So I'm writing. I'm writing because I'm in pain and I have no other way to set it loose.

I'm not even fighting my treatments anymore. It's like they're a part of my life now. It's like waking up, miserable, and tired, is normal. Eating shitty food, and losing weight because you don't want to eat or do anything is normal. It's so normal, that it's not even there anymore. It's not a worry. It's not a bother.

But I am fighting my depression. I'm trying. And what's horrible is that I know I'm depressed. And it seems sort of redundant doesn't it? If you know that you're depressed, then shouldn't you be consciously able to curb it?

No.

I have mood swings now. And I don't even see myself slip into them. And some mornings, I wake up angry. I wake up sad. People start talking to me and I'm inches away from telling them to be quiet because I don't want to hear a word from them. I don't want to hear them talk and I don't want to be around anybody or any noise.

And I don't know how they don't see it. I look in the mirror and I can see it on my face. It's right there in how tired my eyes look and my mouth slanting down into a natural frown because I've spent more hours of my life frowning than smiling.

I can't smile anymore. Not by myself. Around a friend, or a family member, I can laugh and smile. And then it dies. When they're gone, it dies. It whithers and collapses in on itself and it dies. And that's how I know I'm depressed. Because everything is passing me by.

I don't know what day it is. I don't care. I can't remember anything other than a few days back. And everything is just coasting on by and I'm here. And for little moments, something normal comes back to me. A smile. A laugh. And then it fades, dies, and pulls me down with it.

And I'm fighting it. Talking to anybody who will listen because I've changed. I'm more open now. I've even talked to the doctor. And he can't put me on anything because I'm already on too much. And that's my life isn't it? Fighting. There's always trouble coming over the hill. Something bad. Something nasty. Something you'll have no choice but to go through or fix because you have to.

Some days I sit down with people in my restaurant. A group of older men in their 50's and 60's. Dropouts. Workers. People like me. And I realize how much I must look like them. I am young but at the same time I feel old. Feel like I've seen too many bad things. Just like the 60 year old who looks like he's been in more fights than you can count on two hands. Just like the 50 year old who looks tired because he works and he never stops because he's supporting a family on his shoulders that was dropped on him when their father died and their mother didn't care.

I saved my brother in law's life on Monday. He got stuck, out on the roads. In -54 weather. You might ask, was it celcius or farenhiet? It doesn't matter at that point because it's the same. He got stuck out on the roads any my sister called to tell me he wasn't home.

So I went out there, and I saved him. Pulled him out and we went about our business. I do that because I care for my family and because I believe that I can do my best here for them when they need somebody. I'm intelligent to some degree. But I can't function in a city. I don't enjoy society and what it has to offer me because I want to achieve my dreams by building them myself.

I stay here because one day, if I'm still alive to see it, my mother will die and I will inherit her restaurant. My sister's older husband will die, and she'll need someone to back her up all the way. And I will. And my little niece will need a father figure, someone she can trust because she no longer has a father.

I will never give up. No matter how miserable I am I will not lay down and let this claim me.

But all the same every day I'm slipping. My friends can't and won't back me up because they can't. Everybody has lives to live and this one is mine. I search for a singular friend out here I can grow close to but I realize that it will never happen.

When I stare out at the older men who I sit with and call company, fighters, workers, dropouts. They're alone. They always have been.

It's a discmforting thought. Always being able to talk to friends across the internet that makes the world small but only enough so that you can talk. But that's my life isn't it? Bullshit. Doesn't mean I'll give up.

But I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't know where I'm going or how I can get there. I wake up and I don't want to move. I go through my day, weak, and tired, and there's nothing. Nothing but this feeling hanging over me all the time. And in little moments, in brief little moments when I have my head on straight, I can be happy. I can think straight. I can fight.

But they whither, flicker, and then finally die like a sputtering candle. I'm going to keep going though. It's all I've ever done. I've tried a lot. And a lot hasn't worked. And maybe, after I'm done writing this, another mood will roll around.

And I'll collapse. I'll fall deeper down the hole and there isn't anything or anybody that can or will help me but myself.

Every one of you people here.

No matter who you are, good or bad, asshole or other.

You don't know how much you stand to lose and I hope none of you ever have to ever go through this.

No one should have to live through what you're experiencing. There are no words I have that can comfort you, nor any gesture that can truly express my feelings of solidarity and sympathy. Would that it were me, instead.

I will never give up. No matter how miserable I am I will not lay down and let this claim me.

That's the spirit! Despite how old you feel, you are quite young.
Don't believe things will never turn around. Say you live to be 80. That's over 50 years from now.
To believe NOTHING better lies ahead in 50 years.......that's just not true.


There is a reward for all the good you've done, and all the struggles you've overcome.
Greater things are coming. Just keep going and you'll get to them.

I won't pretend to know what you're going through, of course, but having been essentially diagnosed as antisocial--as well as slightly narcissistic and somewhat borderline--I can glimpse a shallow representation of what you're feeling.

Unfortunately, I have no words of consolation to offer to you. But from what I've seen of you--you don't need them. I think you have a tougher character than most others on here and, perhaps, more than you care to admit to yourself. Anybody'd be lucky to know you, whatever mood your in.

I have nothing to offer to you except my good wishes, however little they're worth.

Damn man. Just damn.

I've seen a lot of loved ones go through shit, especially my brother, and damn, this still makes me think about how bad shit can get.

I know that no "I hope you make it" "I think you're a great guy" can help you, which is why I am having a hell of a hard time trying to find what to say.

Honestly nothing will be helpful, which sucks a lot.

All I can say is, give death the biggest god damn fight the world has seen before you the bite the dust.

No one should have to live through what you're experiencing. There are no words I have that can comfort you, nor any gesture that can truly express my feelings of solidarity and sympathy. Would that it were me, instead.

You know what makes me sick? I'm getting better. It won't be long now before I can get off the treatments. Soon. But while I'm getting better, my head isn't. I'm used to working with injuries and feeling like shit. But my head's always been my weak spot.

It's disgusting really. I'll get better, get stronger, and be healthier again because that's what my body is used to. Up's and downs. But my head won't. It'll linger and eat away at me. Because depression isn't a light switch. And turning it around is never easy.

The first case I had years back, I could use a different form of motivation and improvement to help myself. But now? What is there that I can use as a weapon to fight this? Nothing. And it makes me sick.

I don't want to remember any of these days ever again. I want to forget every last one of them to the dark corners of my mind. And I'll talk to my family because I never want this brought up again. I never want to come back to this and see it ever again.

It sickens me that I'm like this. Day in and day out for months now. And it scares me too. Because I realize how suddenly dependant I've become on having somebody close to me, or wanting somebody close to me. Around a good friend of mine or two I can stabilize.

But as soon as they leave, in any way, I suffocate. It's suffocating and crushing me and I can't tell them that. I can't look them in the eyes and tell them what will happen the moment they leave. The moment I feel that absence again.

I will never give up. No matter how miserable I am I will not lay down and let this claim me.

That's the spirit! Despite how old you feel, you are quite young.
Don't believe things will never turn around. Say you live to be 80. That's over 50 years from now.
To believe NOTHING better lies ahead in 50 years.......that's just not true.


There is a reward for all the good you've done, and all the struggles you've overcome.
Greater things are coming. Just keep going and you'll get to them.

What good things are coming? I can build my home. I can have something to call mine in peace and quiet. But what will I do with my life? There is no reward. Only what I'll try and do. I enjoy writing and it will be a staple of mine as long as I can manage it. I enjoy art of almost any kind and I hope to find a way to outlet that as well.

But there is no reward. Life doesn't give rewards. People do. And people don't give rewards.

I'll have to live through my mother's death. My brother in law's death.

I'll take care of my sister and support her and her daughter because I'll be the only one left who can do it.

But it's a job I'll be doing alone. And this lifestyle, my world, is so far apart from yours that when I say that I'll be alone to do it I know that I'll be alone to do it up here. And none of you will ever understand that because you don't wake up to the world I live in. Things are so far away up here from your lives and comforts and customs.

It's grim but at the same time I take solace in the fact that I'll be there, and that I'm here to help everybody when they need me. But it's a shitty road to travel, with only snapshots, pictures and little moments of happiness along the way.

Severe depression destroyed me. I know what you mean in the sense that I wouldn't wish this experience on the biggest asshole on the planet (looking at you Kanye)

Hang in there OP. If you never need a nonjudgemental ear to talk to, I'm always available for a PM.

You know what? I'm just going to use this as a dump. I can dump all my garbage in here with no worries of taking up space. Or causing shit. I'm going to talk to myself because writing puts me at some sort of ease.

Spoiler

It's 1:30 at night right now. And by all means I should be sleeping. I wore myself down earlier this week when I gave my brother in law a hand. I got hammered on monday, and in the evening I went out and about and pulled his ass out of a snowdrift at night in freezing weather. I spent hours out there and fucked myself over for the week.

I should be sleeping. And yet I'm just sitting here. I don't want to wake up to the morning tomorrow. Just sleep and take it easy. But it's never so simple. And something's on my mind too. A little while back, I exploded in Anarchy. The crowning, dawning moment when I became fully aware that I was now so unstable that I had mood swings.

Something caused that. I know what set it off too. More pain.

A friend of mine showed up recently. I haven't seen her in a good year or two even. And she's in the same boat as me. No jobs to work for the winter, cabin fever. Minus all the bullshit on my end though. So as soon as I spotted her we hit things off. Hellos and talk about what was happening in our lives.

I don't like looking at people when they look at me because I can see the look in their face when they stare at me. And I could see the look in her face whenever I talk to her. She's talking to somebody who looks half dead on the outside.

But I got over that. And so we talked as usual. And I found some good stuff too. Turns out she's been writing. Picked it up as a hobby in the last few years. So, I asked if she needed help and I got a solid yes on that. So I've been helping her brush up on the stuff she needs to work on.

And it was all going fine until one morning, I show up, and she breaks the bad news to me. She's currently using her mother's house as a temporary base until she gets up with more jobs. I head over there, and her mother passes me by without saying a word. And after she leaves, my friend tells me the bad news.

Maybe I just looked too dead and undecent to be around that house. But whatever the case, I am no longer welcome there under her mother's decree.

And just like that, another piece of me died. Hard to spend time with a friend when you're not even welcome on their doorstep. And worst of all, that woman didn't have the guts to walk up to me and tell it to my face. She used her own daughter to deliver the message.

And so now I'm trying to find a way to spend time with my friend while dancing around this no fly zone of sorts.

And every time I think about it. It fucking burns me.

Why? I don't need that. I don't want that pain. Did I do something wrong to offend? What did I do that was so abhorrent that I'm no longer welcome on the premises to enjoy time with a friend? Multiple friends even. Three younger people that I get along well with and then it all gets shut down.

My friend stops by for coffee. But you can't sit down and have a discussion about writing in public. Not in this town. I can't even sit down without seeing the rumors begin to spread as people notice me sitting down with somebody I call a friend.

And this restaurant is not mine. It's not my home. Not my place.

So. No matter how hard I try. I never win. And my friend. I enjoy my time around her. Brings out what's left of my humor these days. And as soon as she's gone, It's just me sitting here int he decaying state all over again.

I am glad, at the very least for her timely arrival. She's helping me keep going more than I can rightfully say.

But the bullshit with her mother broke something down in me yet again.

If you'd like I'm free on skype if ya feel like talkin again.

No. Don't have the strength to talk much anymore. Plus I got frostbite on bits of my face. Stings like a bitch. I'm content to dump all my shitty thoughts down here where' it's all contained.

In all seriousness, I can't help but feel guilty every time I see you post. It makes any struggle I've ever had feel so insignificant. Your life is harder than I can conceive, and while you obviously have my full sympathy, I just can't empathize with you.

But, whatever. You know that I actually care about you, and I wish you the best of luck. I'm a terrible person, and I haven't suffered nearly as much as a good one like yourself. It's humbling.

If you'd like I'm free on skype if ya feel like talkin again.

No. Don't have the strength to talk much anymore. Plus I got frostbite on bits of my face. Stings like a bitch. I'm content to dump all my shitty thoughts down here where' it's all contained.

Alright, well you know where to find me if you change your mind.

Eh. I won't bother. Being honest here I don't even want any sort of conversation with folks. I don't feel like talking to you on the subject of what's going on here. I just don't want to even fucking bother.

I don't feel like carrying a conversation. Strange though. I made this thread for a reason. Like I said in the OP. I don't want pity or help because it doesn't make a difference anyway and it doesn't change anything. It just ends up being worse for me in that manner.

I'm sleepy right now. Long beyond past any sane time that I should stay up. So why did I make this thread earlier? I don't even remember the reason. But I know what I feel like now.

This is a record. For Quiet, or somebody to look at. Because I don't know if I'll get through this mess this time. It's all sitting on a wire waiting to snap. You can see the strain on it and hear the sound as it stretches and frays. Who knows. Still here for now at least. One day at a time I guess.

I don't know.

In all seriousness, I can't help but feel guilty every time I see you post. It makes any struggle I've ever had feel so insignificant. Your life is harder than I can conceive, and while you obviously have my full sympathy, I just can't empathize with you.

But, whatever. You know that I actually care about you, and I wish you the best of luck. I'm a terrible person, and I haven't suffered nearly as much as a good one like yourself. It's humbling.

You don't have to feel shitty because it's the same boat. There are people out there worse off than me. And pain and feelign shitty is a universal feeling. It's a bad feeling. It hurts no matter what it is, big or small.

Just remember what you stand to lose. Do that for me. Be aware of your life. Be aware of how fragile it is and how it can snap apart so easily. Make your choices and live your life but be aware that anything you do is special in some regard and that it can be taken away on a whim.

I don't rightfully know how I'll put things back together after this. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about it. And I feel sick when I see all these people going about their lives and they never see how fragile it all is. They don't even see what they have, for good, or bad.

Even the bad. Even the bad, is better than waking up to this. Being an asshole, Class, is better than waking up to this rotting prison and my own head which is attacking itself.

I'm aware of it and yet I still can't stop it or even slow it.

I'm done for the night. And that's that. Goodnight.

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I can actually say that I understand what you're going through. This is the first post in a while I can truly sympathize with. I am truly sorry that you're going through all this; it is not enjoyable even in the slightest degree (understatement.)

Its hell. Plain and simple. Suffering, sadness, and death at their core.

No amount of words I type on some internet forum can ease your suffering, but I hope it at least provides you with the comfort that there are people out there other than just those you know offline that care about you. There are two entire websites full of such people. It doesn't mean much, but it means something I suppose.

whatever mood your in.

YESSSS BITCH YOU FINALLY FUCKED UP

Congrats you can read.

A miracle, really.

I can actually say that I understand what you're going through.

No, you don't.
Unfortunately the rest of your post was ruined by this one sentence, good intentions or not.

Oh, but I CAN understand what he is going through to a degree. Though our exact circumstances may be different, the end result is the same. Death. I can understand the depression he speaks of; the harrowing and unending darkness and sadness, watching as your mind, body, and very spirit begin to crumble around you, and being helpless to stop it. To truly feel a complete absence of hope. I'm assuming you weren't on B.net when I came clean about a lot of stuff.

please dont turn this into "you must suffer this much to understand depression'', guys. make another thread if you want to have your depression olympics.

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Nice to see Dusty boy is being the usual vindictive spiteful same old same old. Not even going to bother with that shit.

And I wake up to this. I wake up, and it feels like I've sunken into my bed and I have to pull myself out of it. Every morning I start this. Every morning I wake up to this. I brush my teeth and stare into a mirror I would rip out of the wall if I could. Come downstairs and go to work for the morning.

Make oatmeal that's as plain water. Take various meds from the doc. I wake up to this shit and what's even worse, there's my mother downstairs. Every morning she says hello and a good morning. And some days I wake up irritated and pissed. And I'm just a few steps off from snapping in the morning.

Telling her that it's not a good morning. No I didn't have a good sleep.

But that's painful to think about. If I ever snapped like that, those words that I'm keeping back from saying would cut like a knife. I can see that on her face. So I say good morning back in the best voice I can manage.

And now I'm here. Where will my day go today? What will I do from here? How will I make this day worth it?

It's a good question with a shitty answer I already know.

whatever mood your in.

YESSSS BITCH YOU FINALLY FUCKED UP

Tell me that while I'm stamping you're fucking head into the floor.

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Nice to see Dusty boy is being the usual vindictive spiteful same old same old. Not even going to bother with that shit.

No one is being spiteful except for the asshole that's trying to bitch to poor Ktan. Unless you'd like to involve yourself in deeper and deeper shit, you should stop taking hits for your douche bag friend who cannot learn to be decent human being.

Nice to see Dusty boy is being the usual vindictive spiteful same old same old. Not even going to bother with that shit.

Very selective memory too dusty. Maybe even short term. Ah. Don't let it bug ya. We all forget shit.

So. Sitting here thinking. I made this thread for a reason. And that's because I can't keep it cooped up anymore. I can't keep all of this inside my head. And I don't want to direct any of it on anybody either.

Let's face it.  When you sit down with a sick person and talk to them. It's depressing. And I can go on and on like a broken record because I feel so bad right now. I can't even properly describe it. Bad doesn't do it justice. Horrid. Terrible. Disgusted. Anguish. Rancid. Degrading.

So I made this thread. But I didn't have to. I could just open up a document on my computer. And I could write and fill pages. Like a journal. But I don't want that on my computer. I don't want to be alone. I ask for no pity or help. Yet at the same time I don't want to be alone.

So I made this thread.

People can come in here and say what they please. But this space. This thread. Is mine. It's blank pages are mine. I can talk to walls and ease what's on my mind, while at the same time, passerby will stop and listen. They may say nothing. They may say something.

But in this manner, I don't feel alone.

And this thread means something more. Because one day. One day, I'll be better. No more treatments to take. And I'll have fixed my head and put it back on straight.

And I'll be able to look back at this thread. These days that are wasted, painful, soul crushing. These disgusting days that I never want to remember and I will never speak of again when all is said and done.

And I'll look back on the days that I posted here when I couldn't bear to stay silent through this.

And I'll wipe it clean. Lock it down to the pits of obscurity never to be seen again.

And I'll move on.

I've suffered from severe depression (I was going to be institutionalized at one point) in the past so I can kind of guess what it's like. Let me put emphasis on guess. I won't actually ever know what you are going through, but you have my sympathy regardless. Not like what I say holds any weight, though.

I've suffered from severe depression (I was going to be institutionalized at one point) in the past so I can kind of guess what it's like. Let me put emphasis on guess. I won't actually ever know what you are going through, but you have my sympathy regardless. Not like what I say holds any weight, though.

I appreciate the gesture.

But you're right. "you have my sympathy regardless."

It's hollow. I look at it and it means nothing. I pass over it and I don't even blink. It's nothing. It's just an empty void.

But I appreciate it. Actually no I don't. I can't appreciate it. But I thank you for saying it anyway.

I've suffered from severe depression (I was going to be institutionalized at one point) in the past so I can kind of guess what it's like. Let me put emphasis on guess. I won't actually ever know what you are going through, but you have my sympathy regardless. Not like what I say holds any weight, though.

I appreciate the gesture.

But you're right. "you have my sympathy regardless."

It's hollow. I look at it and it means nothing. I pass over it and I don't even blink. It's nothing. It's just an empty void.

But I appreciate it. Actually no I don't. I can't appreciate it. But I thank you for saying it anyway.

I don't like using the term "sympathy" for precisely the same reasons. It's just a filler word (like "lol") used when people dumbfounded on what to say.

I can actually say that I understand what you're going through.

No, you don't.
Unfortunately the rest of your post was ruined by this one sentence, good intentions or not.

Oh, but I CAN understand what he is going through to a degree. Though our exact circumstances may be different, the end result is the same. Death. I can understand the depression he speaks of; the harrowing and unending darkness and sadness, watching as your mind, body, and very spirit begin to crumble around you, and being helpless to stop it. To truly feel a complete absence of hope. I'm assuming you weren't on B.net when I came clean about a lot of stuff.

Nuka doesn't like to share empathy and sympathy. In fact I'd love to tell you all the shit these people talked about you while you weren't here, but I'm really trying to hold back. All you need to know is that these people are heartless and only care about themselves. Ignore them, it is to your benefit.

I know what goes on here; I know people despise me and talk behind my back. I know that people who actually take the time to get to know me are just branded as "circlejerkers" simply because they don't hate me. I'm at the point where I don't care what they think anymore, and as you advised; I just ignore it.

They don't like me? Too fucking bad.