I don't really know why I am posting, I guess I feel like I need to get stuff off my chest, but truly I don't even really know how I am feeling other than 'bad'.
Sitting alone at 4am again, in silence, staring at the wall and trying not to feel the crushing weight of everything. I have been ill for so long and it's so tiring. I don't even know where to begin.
I have been unwell since I was maybe 13 or 14, and though things change, they don't really get better. I don't have panic attacks any more, but my OCD is much worse. I don't purge any more for the most part, but my body still repulses me and makes me feel a way I cannot put into words. The depression is still there, just different. Psychotic episodes and paranoia. Inability to focus. There is so much that it feels hard to type.
I feel like I never really developed an identity outside of my illness. I am nearly 30 and looking back at my life fills me with emptiness and regret. There were some things I did achieve - like my degree - but I feel like it was a waste, and that I took resources from those who would have done more with it. Right now, I don't feel like I can engage with anything. No music, can't talk, can't read, can't even scroll online without feeling totally overwhelmed. Can't leave my room. Just can't. It's pathetic and exhausting all at the same time.
I just feel like such a waste of a life. I'm numb and empty. I tried so many things to get better. About 14 different meds along with combinations of those. CBT. Schema Therapy. ERP. Mentalisation. Behavioural activation. DBT self help skills. Talking therapy. I stopped using a mobile phone for 6 months. I deleted all social media. I took up daily yoga. I ran 10ks twice a day. I went to the gym all the time. I exercised every morning as soon as I woke up. I tried fasting. I tried dietary changes. I cut out all sugar. I stopped talking to people who had a negative impact on me. I tried to combat my insomnia. I tried mindfulness and meditation. I tried reaching out to friends, when I still had them. I went to places I didn't want to go, all in the name of 'exposure'. I read spiritual texts. I used endless to-do lists and apps. This was all when I still had the energy for it… and nothing helped. Nothing, except maybe some shrooms, and that lasted just a few months. I'm still unwell, and that seems like the only fundamental reality of my existence. I'm so *tired* of feeling this way, do you understand? How can anyone want to live when just trying to manage your symptoms is a thankless, Sisyphean task? A full time job? I have no idea how to function and I've been left without options. Every moment feels like a small torture.
I feel so guilty that I have taken up so many resources in this world that could have gone to people more deserving, to people that could use it. I'm a useless eater, a waste of space. I feel guilty that people even know me. I feel like a stain on their lives, a contamination. I find myself wishing I could erase their memories of me. Maybe when I go, they will disappear anyway.
Right now, I just want to be distracted, but I can't focus on anything and everything seems to make me feel worse. I don't know what to do.
I had planned to finish this one particular task and then kill myself. But my SN was confiscated by police. Now I have to devise a new plan, and I'm overwhelmed. I felt like having that plan made me feel a little calmer, because at least then I know I don't have to keep going forever. That there is an end to this suffering. Now it has been taken away, I feel so lost and overwhelmed. And the task itself feels more and more impossible with every passing day.
I'm frustrated because no matter how many words I type, I can't seem to get the essence of the thing out. Like there's a profound Wrongness which cannot be articulated. Like the world isn't real and just uttering that profound unsayable Truth would shatter everything and make it crumble. I wonder sometimes if things could have been different, what I did wrong, why I keep failing. I was given every opportunity. I failed, in a cosmic, disappointing, evil way. Why can't I get the words out? Why can't I communicate?
I worry that someone I know will find this. I worry that since the police came, that I am being watched. I don't feel safe or secure at all any more.
I barely get out of bed most days and it has been this way for years.
I don't know what to do.
Sitting alone at 4am again, in silence, staring at the wall and trying not to feel the crushing weight of everything. I have been ill for so long and it's so tiring. I don't even know where to begin.
I have been unwell since I was maybe 13 or 14, and though things change, they don't really get better. I don't have panic attacks any more, but my OCD is much worse. I don't purge any more for the most part, but my body still repulses me and makes me feel a way I cannot put into words. The depression is still there, just different. Psychotic episodes and paranoia. Inability to focus. There is so much that it feels hard to type.
I feel like I never really developed an identity outside of my illness. I am nearly 30 and looking back at my life fills me with emptiness and regret. There were some things I did achieve - like my degree - but I feel like it was a waste, and that I took resources from those who would have done more with it. Right now, I don't feel like I can engage with anything. No music, can't talk, can't read, can't even scroll online without feeling totally overwhelmed. Can't leave my room. Just can't. It's pathetic and exhausting all at the same time.
I just feel like such a waste of a life. I'm numb and empty. I tried so many things to get better. About 14 different meds along with combinations of those. CBT. Schema Therapy. ERP. Mentalisation. Behavioural activation. DBT self help skills. Talking therapy. I stopped using a mobile phone for 6 months. I deleted all social media. I took up daily yoga. I ran 10ks twice a day. I went to the gym all the time. I exercised every morning as soon as I woke up. I tried fasting. I tried dietary changes. I cut out all sugar. I stopped talking to people who had a negative impact on me. I tried to combat my insomnia. I tried mindfulness and meditation. I tried reaching out to friends, when I still had them. I went to places I didn't want to go, all in the name of 'exposure'. I read spiritual texts. I used endless to-do lists and apps. This was all when I still had the energy for it… and nothing helped. Nothing, except maybe some shrooms, and that lasted just a few months. I'm still unwell, and that seems like the only fundamental reality of my existence. I'm so *tired* of feeling this way, do you understand? How can anyone want to live when just trying to manage your symptoms is a thankless, Sisyphean task? A full time job? I have no idea how to function and I've been left without options. Every moment feels like a small torture.
I feel so guilty that I have taken up so many resources in this world that could have gone to people more deserving, to people that could use it. I'm a useless eater, a waste of space. I feel guilty that people even know me. I feel like a stain on their lives, a contamination. I find myself wishing I could erase their memories of me. Maybe when I go, they will disappear anyway.
Right now, I just want to be distracted, but I can't focus on anything and everything seems to make me feel worse. I don't know what to do.
I had planned to finish this one particular task and then kill myself. But my SN was confiscated by police. Now I have to devise a new plan, and I'm overwhelmed. I felt like having that plan made me feel a little calmer, because at least then I know I don't have to keep going forever. That there is an end to this suffering. Now it has been taken away, I feel so lost and overwhelmed. And the task itself feels more and more impossible with every passing day.
I'm frustrated because no matter how many words I type, I can't seem to get the essence of the thing out. Like there's a profound Wrongness which cannot be articulated. Like the world isn't real and just uttering that profound unsayable Truth would shatter everything and make it crumble. I wonder sometimes if things could have been different, what I did wrong, why I keep failing. I was given every opportunity. I failed, in a cosmic, disappointing, evil way. Why can't I get the words out? Why can't I communicate?
I worry that someone I know will find this. I worry that since the police came, that I am being watched. I don't feel safe or secure at all any more.
I barely get out of bed most days and it has been this way for years.
I don't know what to do.
