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Dealing with Depression and Other Mental Illnesses


Drive-By Body Pierce

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Count me as one of those who are also suffering from depression.  Unfortunately, I've found that neither medication nor psychotherapy have been at all helpful. 

 

The medications they gave me made me feel like I was on crystal meth (without the twitchiness, mind you; and yes, I have tried crystal meth before)--it just made me edgy and uncharacteristically aggressive.  Basically, I've found meds to be little more than legalized 'uppers' and I was never into those kinds of drugs at the street level. 

 

I've found therapists to be mostly unhelpful--part of it is because in a lot of ways, I find therapists to be little more than 'emotional prostitutes', in that you're paying them to "care" about how you feel; the other part is that they don't like to be questioned or challenged if you don't believe what they're saying.

 

I have managed to figure out why I am the way I am through my own introspection and have come to certain conclusions that I think most therapists would disagree with.  For starters, therapists seem to vainly think that everyone can be cured of depression via drugs and/or therapy, that everyone can be made "whole" again.  I don't believe that.  Sometimes "mental illness" can be analogous to physical amputation and by that, I simply mean that there are some things that can't be fixed in the same way that people who've lost limbs can't ever grow them back.  That's kind where I am. 

 

Because of my personal history (the details of which I will keep private), I'm incapable of experiencing certain basic kinds of "happiness" or "fulfillment"--there are no pills or talk therapy that can change that.  I mean, when it comes to something as simple as a hug, I literally get nothing out of it.  I've also been addicted to heroin as a young man (as were many from my generation--it was almost fashionable in the 90s); I only mention this because that kind of high is the closest I can personally equate or imagine to how "normal" people must feel when they are happy or feel loved by others.

 

So how do I cope?  Part of it is simply changing my priorities, knowing the limits of my emotional "amputation".  I've stopped trying to pursue "happiness' and instead, merely work/try to be less unhappy by getting away from things that make me miserable (one of the major reasons I moved back to the Coast from Toronto).  To me, stuff like that is achievable and palpable; on the other hand, the pursuit of "happiness" (which all therapists agree is THE Big Goal) is a path leading to nothing but frustration and futility to me. 

 

That's not to say that I think this is something anyone else should follow.  With depression, there is no "typical" case with a easy-to-follow recipe to deal with it--everyone who suffers from it does so because of their own unique set of circumstances.

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i'm not sure where to start here. this is a really good thread and thank you for opening it up

 

im going to put this part of my post in a spoiler tag because it's actually pretty disturbing, but i feel it should be shared for the purpose of this thread

 

Spoiler

ive always felt weird as a young kid and for the longest time i never understood why. i would often ask my mom why i felt this way, and she knew why but she refused to tell me until i was "old enough to understand" but it all started when my sister and i were sexually molested by our father when we were pretty much toddlers and we told our mother that "daddy was playing with me down there"

 

upon hearing that my mom divorced him and we moved to the island. from there i was old enough to know that my mom wasnt all there. her alcohol abuse got really bad to the point where we were physically abused during her manic states, but we're only 4-5 years old at the time. we don't know what any of this means. my mother is first nations, and she grew up during a time where first nations people were treated very suspect and grew up in kitimat villiage, where a lot of insane stuff went on, to where my mother, to this day, won't share her expereinces

 

i grew up in and out of foster homes because of my moms poor mental health, and it kept getting worse, to where one day an 8 year old me had to call 911 because my mom wouldn't wake up when she was sleeping on the couch and we found out she ODed on pills but she kicked out, and my sister and i were put in another foster home

 

this was a regular thing through out my childhood, when i was in grade 4 i was kinda in the middle of the pack, but once grade 5 hit, when my family issues got even worse my grades slipped, and im kinda in that last generation of where if you failed a grade, you repeat it so i was barely getting by. by the 5th grade my work ethic dropped so much that i was actually put in an experiential special needs program. i didn't need it, i didn't want it but i was forced into this thing and i was placed in the "retard" program and i started to become very angry and very bitter at only 10 years old

 

that followed me all through high school and i was a loner. people thought of me as a dick, and i was. i walked in with a chip on my shoulder, an angry bitter teenager. at first i thought that i would be popular because i was different and just didnt give a **** but that just alienated myself from everyone else even more. i was miserable. i had my first girlfriend in grade 10 and we were really close until 6 months later, near the end of the year i saw her kissing another guy where we usually hung out and i was gutted. that was probably the first time thought about killing myself, thinking about that betrayal and the **** i went through as a kid, my sister going through her **** and my mom being ****ed up and my step dad just trying to keep this thing together. i was in a really dark place and i was listening to a song from filter called "consider this" and the lines "i think you'd be better off if you were dead" just struck me and i started questioning my existance

 

by grade 12 i started to hang out with a bad crowd. i started smoking and drinking, then in that one smoking area where the "bad kids" hungout at one of them introduced me to cocaine and my downward spiral started there. by the end of the year i was away from home for several months, just couch hopping at various friends places and fell deeper in drug use. i did heroine for a bit. there was a night where i did a lot of acid, and a night where i still feel the effects today. at that point i didnt know when enough was enough, so to this day i suffer from pretty severe panic attacks and paranoia

 

i started to clean up around 2008, i had a relapse near the end of 2008 when i was abusing xanax and morphine. that lasted only a short while until i quit cold turkey and focused on trying to get my life back together. i got back in touch with friends who i wasnt really close to but i felt like i had to and even reached out to one who i was a real asshole to and she forgave me and befriending her turned out to being ths best thing for me, because in grade 11, i said something to her and her brother caught wind of it and whipped my ass, and deservedly so. she decided to give me a chance and i kinda told her my life story and this is who i am and this is why how i was... how i was. i became not only friends with this girl but her whole crew, who some of them went through the same things i did as a child, but even worse, so we quickly built a bond. it took a while for them to trust me but i eventually won them over when i started to see life in a completely different way

 

however over the years these friends whove i built a close bond with started dying. two of them to suicide, one of them which the girl who i first reached out to, was there for the aftermath, when she got a suicide note-like text and broke in to that friends place and found her throat was sliced and that was a mess. she never recovered from that, and went down a similar path like i did more recently, when her mom died in 2013. in 2014 a friend died from swine flu of all things, another from suicide, and in 2015, a friend died at a night club when his heart gave out from mdma and another friend died, just 2 days before my baby son was still born, and the sadder part was, we were going to name our son after my friend who died 2 days prior

 

ive only just scratched the surface of the **** i went through in my life. the friends i have left over from that high school-post high school time, only three of them are left alive out of the 7 from that group

 

how i stay stable now is i just talk to the people i lhave left. we all kinda act like a support group when we need it to be. we're all divided, like we all dont live in the same area anymore; we're more long distance but we're all probably closer than we've ever been, and we've associated ourselves with brothers/sisters of those who've passed on so they're kinda always with us

 

i could probably write a full novel on my life but im really not good with words so this is the best i can do. my only advice is: just communicate

 

if anyone here needs a friend or someone to talk to, slip me a dm or something. we're all in this fight together and we all have our own experiences, and most people want to take the fight by themselves but you can't. you'll lose. don't hide it, don't fight it, talk about it

 

 

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i know it is not that simple, but the theory of phycho- cybernetics claims that the brain is a human computer and what goes it, is what comes out.

when my first sibling passed away in 1999, i realized that i didn't cry. i hadn't cried when my mother died, either. i simply put all the hurt and anxieties, i wasn't willing to deal with, behind the wall, i had built up over my life. this wall had became a fortress. the day after i came home from his funeral, a mysterious force, broke down that wall and forced me to confront my demons. 

i discovered that i held a fear all my life that i would inherit my fathers mental illness, i also discovered that i was always seeking forgiveness of someone for my behavior growing up. as that wall disappeared, i was forced to face that demon. it turned out, that the person i needed forgiveness from and never got, was me. when i realized this, i broke down and cried and cried. i cried every tear that i'ld refused to shed over my life. 

when i finished crying, i felt an inner peace, i'ld never felt before.

are we our own worst enemies?

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7 hours ago, Undrafted said:

I've stopped trying to pursue "happiness' and instead, merely work/try to be less unhappy by getting away from things that make me miserable (one of the major reasons I moved back to the Coast from Toronto).  To me, stuff like that is achievable and palpable; on the other hand, the pursuit of "happiness" (which all therapists agree is THE Big Goal) is a path leading to nothing but frustration and futility to me. 

That's pretty much my life as well. In your post, you mention they put you on medications back in the day.  How long ago was that?  Big advancements have been made in the medication field and I think you owe it to yourself to take another crack at the latest "menu". Moving from one to the next hasn't helped me get past that inability to be happy that we are both experiencing, but they have for a few people I know.  Also know that there are different "families" of medications now, so you want the non-twitchy kind. :)

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7 minutes ago, kloubek said:

That's pretty much my life as well. In your post, you mention they put you on medications back in the day.  How long ago was that?  Big advancements have been made in the medication field and I think you owe it to yourself to take another crack at the latest "menu". Moving from one to the next hasn't helped me get past that inability to be happy that we are both experiencing, but they have for a few people I know.  Also know that there are different "families" of medications now, so you want the non-twitchy kind. :)

i was on everything xanax, prozac, zoloft. i take trazodone now and that helps the most

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10 hours ago, Cramarossa said:

I suffer from depression. I suffer from anxiety. I suffer from ruminations.

 

The ruminations (obsessive thoughts) are the worst. Thoughts are like a record skipping and repeating, repeatingREPEATING in my mind that I can't control. Sometimes the thoughts are innocuous and don't make sense (I once got the thought of Ovechkin coming back from injury stuck in my mind) but oftentimes they are negative and fabrications from my many insecurities. The thoughts will repeat, repeat, repeat keeping me up all night so that I can't sleep and distracting me during the day. It's a constant hum of painful thoughts ("they don't like you, no one loves you, you're ugly,  you're awful") cycling in my mind.

 

Pair these recurring thoughts with my many phobias and the anxiety kicks in bad. I fear things like driving and flying, but also the thought that all my ruminations are true. I know objectively they're not, but they feel so real and I can't shut that out. So then I get depressed.

 

I'm on medication. I thought it was helping, but now I'm not so sure. The last month has really brought me to my knees. I'm not coping well at all. 

intrusive thoughts are one of the things my daughter is dealing with as well, and the meds weren't much help for her either. About 6 months ago she found a counsellor who specializes in cognitive behaviour therapy and intrusive thoughts and it really helped her . I wasn't in the sessions with her, but I do know that after about 3 months (and a lot of writing in a notebook) she said it was working and she wasn't stressing over it the same way or as intensely as before. 

 

 

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13 hours ago, BananaMash said:

Hey, y'all. Diagnosed bipolar here, and I've struggled with suicidal ideation since I was 13. I'm in a place where life continues in spite of the issues, and I don't talk about them with strangers much as my friends are beautiful and supportive, but I just wanted to say this thread is really nice. I hope it genuinely helps someone open up :)

You and me both Nanners. Bipolar Disorder is a very disruptive diagnosis to be given. Thank you for sharing. I find there is a very large stigma against BPD and a ton of misunderstanding (people just think we are moody or quick to change moods.) 

On the debate on medication I know on a personal level that some medications can make things far worse, but that is why we go on trial periods with different medications. I have finally landed on Rexulti and Klonopin as a "cocktail" that seems to work for me after trying a dozen different drugs. It is a long process but I know it is worth it as my body is filled with scars that show no medication is definitely not a better option. Self harm, suicidal ideation, and actual attempts are all things I am familiar with.

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Kudo's to everyone who has courageously shared their story.  Mine is not that big a deal, some minor depression but not anything that has needed intervention but for a brief period a year ago surrounding the death of a good friend.  

My adoptive mother dealt with significant mental health issues that I knew nothing about as I was growing up, it wasn't until I was well into adulthood that I became aware that she was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic.  Created some interesting challenges as she aged and I learned a great deal about the inadequacies of the health care system in providing care for seniors with mental health issues in smaller communities. 

For those of you who have attempted and failed at suicide, I'm so grateful that you were not successful.  I only know you from what you contribute to these discussion forums, and I have greatly enjoyed those contributions.  I laugh, sometimes cry and I learn more about me, you, and different perspectives and experiences and how they shape us as people from what you post and share.  Please know that each of you are valued by me and I'm sure by so many others in your life.  Without what you contribute, the world would not be the same.  

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15 hours ago, riffraff said:

Maybe depressed people are medicated and sent on their way while people hope they improve and don’t commmit suicide, meanwhile those with more obvious mental health issues are hospitalized?

Hospitalization can be detrimental, and more important than what happens in such a facility is the follow-up put in place for patients once they're discharged from it, which is commonly inadequate and poorly-organized where we live.

 

I'm not sure why anyone would want depressed patients without any comorbidities being hospitalized except for in brief periods of crisis. It's something much better treated on an outpatient basis.

 

e: I also think you're overestimating the commonality of people with severe mental illnesses being held (for stretches of time greater than a night or two). Have you seen what St. Paul's does?

 

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27 minutes ago, 112 said:

Hospitalization can be detrimental, and more important than what happens in such a facility is the follow-up put in place for patients once they're discharged from it, which is commonly inadequate and poorly-organized where we live.

 

I'm not sure why anyone would want depressed patients without any comorbidities being hospitalized except for in brief periods of crisis. It's something much better treated on an outpatient basis.

 

e: I also think you're overestimating the commonality of people with severe mental illnesses being held (for stretches of time greater than a night or two). Have you seen what St. Paul's does?

 

My post was based on an observation made by someone I know working as a nurse in hospitals who has also worked in recovery centres and other similar facilities.

 

not saying my post is definitive by any means.

 

 

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Pales in compare to some of the deeply moving stories some of you have offered but when you build up yourself your entire life towards a professional athletic career and the playing part ends in your 30s, it can leave a hole.   I am luckier than most in that I managed funds and had some very good market luck AND that I am still involved in the game but even then, something is missing and you notice it some times more than others.   

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37 minutes ago, Rob_Zepp said:

Pales in compare to some of the deeply moving stories some of you have offered but when you build up yourself your entire life towards a professional athletic career and the playing part ends in your 30s, it can leave a hole.   I am luckier than most in that I managed funds and had some very good market luck AND that I am still involved in the game but even then, something is missing and you notice it some times more than others.   

Can I ask how you're still involved in the game? Did you transition into coaching? Really curious.

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4 hours ago, kloubek said:

That's pretty much my life as well. In your post, you mention they put you on medications back in the day.  How long ago was that?  Big advancements have been made in the medication field and I think you owe it to yourself to take another crack at the latest "menu". Moving from one to the next hasn't helped me get past that inability to be happy that we are both experiencing, but they have for a few people I know.  Also know that there are different "families" of medications now, so you want the non-twitchy kind. :)

They tried putting me on one of the SSRI's a little more than 15 years ago--forget which one it was.  I neglected to mention that I also suffered from a number of unwanted side-effects, which is also another reason why I won't go down the meds route again.  When I tried 'self-medicating' with street drugs before that, at least I knew what the side effects were going to be and those side effects weren't nearly as bad.

 

But the main reason I won't go back on meds is that I understand enough of my own personal reasons behind my depression to know that they won't actually do anything to address those issues--it's stuff that no drug or medication can fix or even help with.

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2 hours ago, skategal said:

For those of you who have attempted and failed at suicide, I'm so grateful that you were not successful.  I only know you from what you contribute to these discussion forums, and I have greatly enjoyed those contributions.  I laugh, sometimes cry and I learn more about me, you, and different perspectives and experiences and how they shape us as people from what you post and share.  Please know that each of you are valued by me and I'm sure by so many others in your life.  Without what you contribute, the world would not be the same.  

I pretty much consider the idea of suicide on an almost daily basis and have tried it before.  And I can identify with everyone who has committed suicide, in that I understand that it's about being unable to carry their burden--whatever it might be--any further than they have and I can't begrudge them of that.

 

For me personally, this song has a lot of personal significance.  In a lot of ways, it speaks of every day that I think about suicide but don't.

 

 

 

 

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15 hours ago, Cramarossa said:

I suffer from depression. I suffer from anxiety. I suffer from ruminations.

 

The ruminations (obsessive thoughts) are the worst. Thoughts are like a record skipping and repeating, repeatingREPEATING in my mind that I can't control. Sometimes the thoughts are innocuous and don't make sense (I once got the thought of Ovechkin coming back from injury stuck in my mind) but oftentimes they are negative and fabrications from my many insecurities. The thoughts will repeat, repeat, repeat keeping me up all night so that I can't sleep and distracting me during the day. It's a constant hum of painful thoughts ("they don't like you, no one loves you, you're ugly,  you're awful") cycling in my mind.

 

Pair these recurring thoughts with my many phobias and the anxiety kicks in bad. I fear things like driving and flying, but also the thought that all my ruminations are true. I know objectively they're not, but they feel so real and I can't shut that out. So then I get depressed.

 

I'm on medication. I thought it was helping, but now I'm not so sure. The last month has really brought me to my knees. I'm not coping well at all. 

Thats pretty much what ive had for about 15 or so years so half my life, its not always negative thoughts but at times it can get overwhelming, it makes it really hard to just relax and unwind when you mind is going 24/7, even worse when its negative thoughts you cant shake for hours or days at a time. People usually think im really anti social but its not like i dont like being with people, its just really hard to handle a social situation when your mind is making you go over every way it can go wrong and so i usually just avoid being around people in most situations because its easier

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8 hours ago, zombieksa said:

You and me both Nanners. Bipolar Disorder is a very disruptive diagnosis to be given. Thank you for sharing. I find there is a very large stigma against BPD and a ton of misunderstanding (people just think we are moody or quick to change moods.) 

On the debate on medication I know on a personal level that some medications can make things far worse, but that is why we go on trial periods with different medications. I have finally landed on Rexulti and Klonopin as a "cocktail" that seems to work for me after trying a dozen different drugs. It is a long process but I know it is worth it as my body is filled with scars that show no medication is definitely not a better option. Self harm, suicidal ideation, and actual attempts are all things I am familiar with.

There's definitely a lot of misunderstanding about it. It's also hard to explain to people that the manic upswings can be just as damaging as the lows, at least in my case. I lose any sense of apprehension and start getting reckless when I turn in that direction. But, it is what it is. My friends are beautiful people who know everything about me, including the suicidal ideation and few attempts that there have been (none since 2012 though!)

 

The medication thing is definitely interesting. I respond best to continual talk-therapy (I got once every few weeks now) and no drugs. Every drug I've tried (probably 6 or 7) has resulted in worsened self-harm. But, I have friends who respond really well to medication. It's very much a trial-and-error thing with mental health issues. I found the route that helps me manage and it's non-medical, but for some, medical ends up DEFINITELY being the way to go.

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22 hours ago, Cramarossa said:

I suffer from depression. I suffer from anxiety. I suffer from ruminations.

 

The ruminations (obsessive thoughts) are the worst. Thoughts are like a record skipping and repeating, repeatingREPEATING in my mind that I can't control. Sometimes the thoughts are innocuous and don't make sense (I once got the thought of Ovechkin coming back from injury stuck in my mind) but oftentimes they are negative and fabrications from my many insecurities. The thoughts will repeat, repeat, repeat keeping me up all night so that I can't sleep and distracting me during the day. It's a constant hum of painful thoughts ("they don't like you, no one loves you, you're ugly,  you're awful") cycling in my mind.

 

Pair these recurring thoughts with my many phobias and the anxiety kicks in bad. I fear things like driving and flying, but also the thought that all my ruminations are true. I know objectively they're not, but they feel so real and I can't shut that out. So then I get depressed.

 

I'm on medication. I thought it was helping, but now I'm not so sure. The last month has really brought me to my knees. I'm not coping well at all. 

You sound like me, when I was younger.  Only recently (about 10 years ago I was in hospital for quite a while) did I get diagnosed, and get medication (Escitalopram, and Olanzapine).  Plus, I had a lot of counselling with different psychologists.  I found the medication quitened my rumination, compulsions, and psychotic episodes, which allowed me to work at the therapy.  The therapy, once the medications were balanced and effectively helping me, was intense for the first three years, and then it lessened.  I still get help often, and believe I will take medication until my last days.

 

if you are experiencing what I did, which it sure sounds like, I wish you the very best.  

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20 hours ago, Twilight Sparkle said:

i'm not sure where to start here. this is a really good thread and thank you for opening it up

 

im going to put this part of my post in a spoiler tag because it's actually pretty disturbing, but i feel it should be shared for the purpose of this thread

 

  Hide contents

ive always felt weird as a young kid and for the longest time i never understood why. i would often ask my mom why i felt this way, and she knew why but she refused to tell me until i was "old enough to understand" but it all started when my sister and i were sexually molested by our father when we were pretty much toddlers and we told our mother that "daddy was playing with me down there"

 

upon hearing that my mom divorced him and we moved to the island. from there i was old enough to know that my mom wasnt all there. her alcohol abuse got really bad to the point where we were physically abused during her manic states, but we're only 4-5 years old at the time. we don't know what any of this means. my mother is first nations, and she grew up during a time where first nations people were treated very suspect and grew up in kitimat villiage, where a lot of insane stuff went on, to where my mother, to this day, won't share her expereinces

 

i grew up in and out of foster homes because of my moms poor mental health, and it kept getting worse, to where one day an 8 year old me had to call 911 because my mom wouldn't wake up when she was sleeping on the couch and we found out she ODed on pills but she kicked out, and my sister and i were put in another foster home

 

this was a regular thing through out my childhood, when i was in grade 4 i was kinda in the middle of the pack, but once grade 5 hit, when my family issues got even worse my grades slipped, and im kinda in that last generation of where if you failed a grade, you repeat it so i was barely getting by. by the 5th grade my work ethic dropped so much that i was actually put in an experiential special needs program. i didn't need it, i didn't want it but i was forced into this thing and i was placed in the "retard" program and i started to become very angry and very bitter at only 10 years old

 

that followed me all through high school and i was a loner. people thought of me as a dick, and i was. i walked in with a chip on my shoulder, an angry bitter teenager. at first i thought that i would be popular because i was different and just didnt give a **** but that just alienated myself from everyone else even more. i was miserable. i had my first girlfriend in grade 10 and we were really close until 6 months later, near the end of the year i saw her kissing another guy where we usually hung out and i was gutted. that was probably the first time thought about killing myself, thinking about that betrayal and the **** i went through as a kid, my sister going through her **** and my mom being ****ed up and my step dad just trying to keep this thing together. i was in a really dark place and i was listening to a song from filter called "consider this" and the lines "i think you'd be better off if you were dead" just struck me and i started questioning my existance

 

by grade 12 i started to hang out with a bad crowd. i started smoking and drinking, then in that one smoking area where the "bad kids" hungout at one of them introduced me to cocaine and my downward spiral started there. by the end of the year i was away from home for several months, just couch hopping at various friends places and fell deeper in drug use. i did heroine for a bit. there was a night where i did a lot of acid, and a night where i still feel the effects today. at that point i didnt know when enough was enough, so to this day i suffer from pretty severe panic attacks and paranoia

 

i started to clean up around 2008, i had a relapse near the end of 2008 when i was abusing xanax and morphine. that lasted only a short while until i quit cold turkey and focused on trying to get my life back together. i got back in touch with friends who i wasnt really close to but i felt like i had to and even reached out to one who i was a real asshole to and she forgave me and befriending her turned out to being ths best thing for me, because in grade 11, i said something to her and her brother caught wind of it and whipped my ass, and deservedly so. she decided to give me a chance and i kinda told her my life story and this is who i am and this is why how i was... how i was. i became not only friends with this girl but her whole crew, who some of them went through the same things i did as a child, but even worse, so we quickly built a bond. it took a while for them to trust me but i eventually won them over when i started to see life in a completely different way

 

however over the years these friends whove i built a close bond with started dying. two of them to suicide, one of them which the girl who i first reached out to, was there for the aftermath, when she got a suicide note-like text and broke in to that friends place and found her throat was sliced and that was a mess. she never recovered from that, and went down a similar path like i did more recently, when her mom died in 2013. in 2014 a friend died from swine flu of all things, another from suicide, and in 2015, a friend died at a night club when his heart gave out from mdma and another friend died, just 2 days before my baby son was still born, and the sadder part was, we were going to name our son after my friend who died 2 days prior

 

ive only just scratched the surface of the **** i went through in my life. the friends i have left over from that high school-post high school time, only three of them are left alive out of the 7 from that group

 

how i stay stable now is i just talk to the people i lhave left. we all kinda act like a support group when we need it to be. we're all divided, like we all dont live in the same area anymore; we're more long distance but we're all probably closer than we've ever been, and we've associated ourselves with brothers/sisters of those who've passed on so they're kinda always with us

 

i could probably write a full novel on my life but im really not good with words so this is the best i can do. my only advice is: just communicate

 

if anyone here needs a friend or someone to talk to, slip me a dm or something. we're all in this fight together and we all have our own experiences, and most people want to take the fight by themselves but you can't. you'll lose. don't hide it, don't fight it, talk about it

 

 

My heart goes out to you brony. No words of mine can change things but I have often wondered about you, posting your photos on that thread. Your story now explains many things I wondered about you. I think you have shown a quiet strength in your life and wish you all the best.

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6 hours ago, Rob_Zepp said:

Won't be specific on this board but not coaching other than some camps I volunteer at.   

 

 

I have a lot of respect for people who volunteer. I worked with handicap skiers during my time doing seasons at Mt Hotham, it was very rewarding and inspiring. I taught this 65 year old man who had never skied until his car accident and was legally blind. It inspired me , if he could do what he did , I who was able bodied and had use of all my senses should be able to achieve a lot.

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