Discussion Anyone who thought their life was gonna get better and didn't?

[bigtiredoflife]

A few years ago my fiancé/partner of 9 years split. It was a very hard time for me because I didn't really have friends. My college buddies were still close but they drifted from me. After failing to hang myself I decided to try changing myself. I started going to the gym 5 times a week, got on dating apps and got out of my comfort zone. Had some dates that didn't really go anywhere but I met an awesome girl friend. We moved in together this past may. Stupidly I ended up falling for her and I knew she didn't feel the same way but we practically lived as a couple. This weekend she left to hang out with family for a few days and go on a date. Idk I've been gutted. I started a new job, and I'm not great at it. I've tried fitting in my whole life but I just feel like an alien. I'm 29 with no friends, no talents or hobbies I can adhere to because adhd. And I realize it's been like this my whole life. Even my current only friend feels more like a tourist whose going to move on like everyone else in my life has, and my wholehearted attempts at getting better have gotten me nowhere. I could easily stick my 12 gauge in my mouth but I'm too much of a coward, and partially afraid of what happens after we die. I know this is small potatoes compared to other peoples situations, but I'm just so sick of being lonely, watching the world pass me by like everyone else got a memo I didn't

 

[Ai-chan]

When I got older and realized I'm in the exact same position I was in as a child, or arguably in a worse position than I was in as a child, that's when I realized that there is no hope for me

 

[AintNoWayOut]

i thought my chronic pain would get better overtime if i did the right things, and i thought i'd eventually come across new friends and a girlfriend, but then i learned that life isnt a fairytale and not every problem is fixable. sure, i've always had some cynicism and i've never been a believer in karma or any "spiritual forces" keeping things in order, but at the same time, there was enough hope to fuel me and delude me into thinking there was a reason to keep going... that maybe all the suffering would pay off at some point. not that life would turn out great, but that some of my problems would be alleviated, and there'd be good times ahead. but thats not how it panned out. i'll die with my pain since the damage in my body is already done, and unlike what some overly optimistic people may think, there isnt a magic cure for every health problem. i just so happened to be someone unlucky enough to end up with it... out of billions of people, some are going to end up in awful, unchangeable situations, and im one of those people. and the same for loneliness, i'll likely die having never been in a relationship since my problems make me an undesirable partner and women have the choice to reject me. but you always have those people who think the world is just and life is like a disney movie and theres SOMEONE for EVERYONE, the right person will come!!!.... unless they dont, because like i said, theres no force in the universe that assures no one ends up alone. thats a delusion based in a fantasy world where everyone ends up happily ever after.

i guess i used to have that mindset, that things would just end up falling into place decently, that i'd experience some good with the bad, because life cant be THAT consistently bad... or you know, maybe for SOME people, but, for me?? but reality humbled me and made me realize, im just a person like everyone else, so im not exempt from things going totally wrong and my life ending up in the shitter like it has. i cant blame myself for thinking that way when i was younger, since its only natural to have hope for your future, that things will turn out okay, but reality hits like a brick now that im turning 24 in a few days and i've been stuck in the same hell for almost a decade with nothing to show for it.

 

[bluem00n]

Too many times

Saw your comment - couldn't resist, this instantly popped into my head ...
It's a rather curious combination of miserable lyrics with a chirpy choon ...

Too many times, too many times
Too many times, too many times
Too many times I've seen the sun come up through bloodshot eyes this week
No matter what I do since we broke up I find it hard to sleep
The room is spinning from too many drinks I've drunken by myself
I know that staying here and drinking beer is no good for my health
What is there left to do
But to drink and watch the view ...?
I think that it might rain this afternoon
Too many times, too many times
Too many times, too many times
The doctor that I went to couldn't do any good
He gave me pills for sleeping
I took more than I should, than I should.
Too many times I've seen the sun come up through bloodshot eyes this week
No matter what I do since we broke up I find it hard to sleep
What is there left to do
But to drink and watch the view ...?
I think that it might rain this afternoon

 

[deadhead12!]

I think I was too entitled when I was young. Nothing was difficult for me, and I didn't have any direction. This led to a defeatist mindset where when things got hard I just gave up and did the next thing. Things are good on paper, I come from a good family, have good friends, education and a job, but it's not good enough for me and I can't blame anyone else but me.

thanks for sharing this is very relatable

 

[reiko1337]

Yeah, many times. Especially when I was younger, I was under the illusion that maybe, somehow, life was actually getting better. And I won't lie, it was. But reality hit me hard, and sent me spiralling into deeper depression and I ended up isolating myself from everyone for a little over a year. I ruined most of my relationships, friendships, and even inflicted financial damage on my parents. My mistake was expecting too much, and that just led me to be even more disappointed. Sure, you can get the good moments in life, but don't expect them to last. Besides, that's just something that distracts you from how shit life actually is, and the things it can throw at you. You won't even see it coming.

 

[outerheaven]

After years of enduring physical, emotional, and sometimes sexual abuse I wanted to turn 18 so bad. I wanted desperately to escape this situation and I often dreamed of a life that was better than the one I was in. I figured, once I was an adult, everything would be so much easier. No more abusive mom, no more school bullies, I can have independence...

All I have left of my childhood is the shattered memories and intense emotional outbursts draped over my brain like a blanket of fog. Becoming an adult was like taking my first breath of air. It felt like it'd be a lifetime away.

But before you knew it, I was 15. And my mental health would begin to nose dive dramatically. I often felt that because I couldn't remember my life, I was super imposed into this universe.
I felt as though I was out of my body and watching the scene unfold. Nothing felt real anymore and my symptoms continued to escalate, but the numbing feeling I often experienced due to my disconnection sort of acted as the relief to a barrage of attacks so I didn't complain. It was like unplugging yourself. From everything.

Everything being that I couldn't sleep at home, and spent most of my school days trying to face the fact that I hadn't been to bed yet, that I was working at the time to provide for myself and my family, that I couldn't eat a full meal anymore without puking it back up due to the sheer amount of stress I was under, that I was so absorbed by my obsessive compulsive thoughts and need to make my mother happy that I lost all interests in life.
I didn't draw anymore, I didn't write the same, all my hobbies gradually disappeared and everything that I knew had changed.
I stopped talking to anyone that attempted to interact with me at school and began isolating even more intensely. I also slept in class most of the time to make up for the fact that I'd been up all night after work because it was the only free time I had.
My grades and social life completely sank through the floor and all I could do was watch.
At the time it didn't matter, because I wasn't real anyway. And so I began to feed my delusions more intensely, desperate to escape the world around me. I had fictional friends that I made up and they'd become a huge part of my life for the next two years. Even now.

I began to hear the voices of my so-called friends and black out, losing all sense of time and reality. One moment I'd be doing one thing and the next I was in a completely different location, unsure as to how I even got there. I was so delirious I didn't notice the jumps in time. I thought I was just tired from work, school, and abuse.

It wasn't until I turned 17 and overdosed that I started to collect the pieces. I'd reached my boiling point over summer break as there was no more school to escape my brutal home life, and I saw how miserable my brother was as a 21 year old. He was still getting abused by my mom, and I figured it'd never stop then even if I did turn 18.
My delusions also started to reflect the abuse at home and it no longer served as an escape. So I did the only rational thing I thought you could at the time: take a cocktail of your mother's entire script of benzos and three scripts of your antidepressants.

Unfortunately my dad and brother found me and that's why I'm still alive today. It was a close call, and I'd spent a long time in the hospital unconscious. When I woke up I remember laying there and crying because I was still alive. How frightened I was that I had to keep going. The doctor just stood there awkwardly and asked me if I knew where I was. In hell, I thought.

Shortly after that I got interviewed by DCFS and they sent me to a locked unit for a year where I'd attempt to regain my life, and I thought, this is where it gets better...right?

I worked really hard and took all the therapeutic advice they had to offer. Before you knew it I had graduated a year early, got accepted into a ambitious university, and I left the psych ward in July 2019; thinking this would be the turning point in my life where I finally conquer my delusions, self harm, OCD, PTSD, DID, and mood swings. I would be a successful person. I would go to college and forget about all the shitty things my parents put me through....but that's not what happened at all.

My symptoms got worse and I began to turn into something else. Something resembling my abuse.
And so....my anxiety, dissociative amnesia, and mood swings worsened. I locked myself in a bathroom for a year and a half and refused to leave. Flunking out of college, losing my friends all over again, relapsing back into self harm, experimenting with drugs (thankfully I never got addicted but it doesn't make me feel any less like a failure), feeding back into my delusions, and living chronically online for the next 3 years, afraid to leave my house, afraid to get another job, lost, without hobbies, and this time- without my family, who has actively evaded me since I got out of the hospital.

I moved out of Indiana to get a better life and forget treatment, college, and my familial problems, but now I've just carried my problems with me and new ones are coming up. Financial stress, relationship problems, my problems.
I still feel unreal, I'm still hearing voices that don't belong to me...my friends, I guess youd call them, my eating disorder has come to a head and now I don't just puke from stress anymore, I make myself sick because I can't help it. I act like my mom and get irrational, making me feel foolish and sick and wrong. Because I am.
I'm poor and work is hard for me. Everything is hard for me when it involves leaving my room. Everything is hard.

Life did not get better for me. Positive affirmations did not work for me, CBT was a joke, doesn't matter how long you stay in a locked unit, it doesn't help... and now I'm riddled with guilt. That I survived, that I made it this far into life, that I have no sense of direction, and all I do is hurt people's feelings with my irrational thinking, and it'd be better for everyone if I just died.

 

[bigdog]

Yeah definitely life gives false hopes it sucks

 

[RatLiker]

Things have only been going downhill ever since I can remember. I still hope and pray that salvation will come, but I understand that it very well may not. Perhaps we really are in this world to experience mortality, and the eventual death of all things, but maybe the next one (whatever it may be) won't be so futile.

 

[Obliviate]

After years of enduring physical, emotional, and sometimes sexual abuse I wanted to turn 18 so bad. I wanted desperately to escape this situation and I often dreamed of a life that was better than the one I was in. I figured, once I was an adult, everything would be so much easier. No more abusive mom, no more school bullies, I can have independence...

All I have left of my childhood is the shattered memories and intense emotional outbursts draped over my brain like a blanket of fog. Becoming an adult was like taking my first breath of air. It felt like it'd be a lifetime away.

But before you knew it, I was 15. And my mental health would begin to nose dive dramatically. I often felt that because I couldn't remember my life, I was super imposed into this universe.
I felt as though I was out of my body and watching the scene unfold. Nothing felt real anymore and my symptoms continued to escalate, but the numbing feeling I often experienced due to my disconnection sort of acted as the relief to a barrage of attacks so I didn't complain. It was like unplugging yourself. From everything.

Everything being that I couldn't sleep at home, and spent most of my school days trying to face the fact that I hadn't been to bed yet, that I was working at the time to provide for myself and my family, that I couldn't eat a full meal anymore without puking it back up due to the sheer amount of stress I was under, that I was so absorbed by my obsessive compulsive thoughts and need to make my mother happy that I lost all interests in life.
I didn't draw anymore, I didn't write the same, all my hobbies gradually disappeared and everything that I knew had changed.
I stopped talking to anyone that attempted to interact with me at school and began isolating even more intensely. I also slept in class most of the time to make up for the fact that I'd been up all night after work because it was the only free time I had.
My grades and social life completely sank through the floor and all I could do was watch.
At the time it didn't matter, because I wasn't real anyway. And so I began to feed my delusions more intensely, desperate to escape the world around me. I had fictional friends that I made up and they'd become a huge part of my life for the next two years. Even now.

I began to hear the voices of my so-called friends and black out, losing all sense of time and reality. One moment I'd be doing one thing and the next I was in a completely different location, unsure as to how I even got there. I was so delirious I didn't notice the jumps in time. I thought I was just tired from work, school, and abuse.

It wasn't until I turned 17 and overdosed that I started to collect the pieces. I'd reached my boiling point over summer break as there was no more school to escape my brutal home life, and I saw how miserable my brother was as a 21 year old. He was still getting abused by my mom, and I figured it'd never stop then even if I did turn 18.
My delusions also started to reflect the abuse at home and it no longer served as an escape. So I did the only rational thing I thought you could at the time: take a cocktail of your mother's entire script of benzos and three scripts of your antidepressants.

Unfortunately my dad and brother found me and that's why I'm still alive today. It was a close call, and I'd spent a long time in the hospital unconscious. When I woke up I remember laying there and crying because I was still alive. How frightened I was that I had to keep going. The doctor just stood there awkwardly and asked me if I knew where I was. In hell, I thought.

Shortly after that I got interviewed by DCFS and they sent me to a locked unit for a year where I'd attempt to regain my life, and I thought, this is where it gets better...right?

I worked really hard and took all the therapeutic advice they had to offer. Before you knew it I had graduated a year early, got accepted into a ambitious university, and I left the psych ward in July 2019; thinking this would be the turning point in my life where I finally conquer my delusions, self harm, OCD, PTSD, DID, and mood swings. I would be a successful person. I would go to college and forget about all the shitty things my parents put me through....but that's not what happened at all.

My symptoms got worse and I began to turn into something else. Something resembling my abuse.
And so....my anxiety, dissociative amnesia, and mood swings worsened. I locked myself in a bathroom for a year and a half and refused to leave. Flunking out of college, losing my friends all over again, relapsing back into self harm, experimenting with drugs (thankfully I never got addicted but it doesn't make me feel any less like a failure), feeding back into my delusions, and living chronically online for the next 3 years, afraid to leave my house, afraid to get another job, lost, without hobbies, and this time- without my family, who has actively evaded me since I got out of the hospital.

I moved out of Indiana to get a better life and forget treatment, college, and my familial problems, but now I've just carried my problems with me and new ones are coming up. Financial stress, relationship problems, my problems.
I still feel unreal, I'm still hearing voices that don't belong to me...my friends, I guess youd call them, my eating disorder has come to a head and now I don't just puke from stress anymore, I make myself sick because I can't help it. I act like my mom and get irrational, making me feel foolish and sick and wrong. Because I am.
I'm poor and work is hard for me. Everything is hard for me when it involves leaving my room. Everything is hard.

Life did not get better for me. Positive affirmations did not work for me, CBT was a joke, doesn't matter how long you stay in a locked unit, it doesn't help... and now I'm riddled with guilt. That I survived, that I made it this far into life, that I have no sense of direction, and all I do is hurt people's feelings with my irrational thinking, and it'd be better for everyone if I just died.

I'm so sorry you went through that. I have a similar experiences with abuse. And yeah nothing gets better. I thought I would be the one to make it you know, the special one but sadly that's not the case. Everyone loves the rags to riches stories of that one person that started from the bottom and worked their way to success but it was all just luck. That's one out of the millions who worked hard and failed. They always talk about the ones who made it and forget about the millions who didn't

 

[Obliviate]

Me to me........well you gave life chances and tried, now that things are about to get a lot worse, it's your time.