With depression one of the most common pieces of advice you get is "reach out" and "talk to people."
So I have many times. I've talked to my psychologist about it. I've talked to another psychologist about it. I've talked to some people on a helpline about it. I've talked to my doctor about it. I've talked to dozens of random people on social media about it. I've talked about it to basically anyone I could.
But it has kind of had the opposite effect on me that it seems to have been intended to have. Which is that each time I grow more convinced that killing myself is the right choice.
One thing you start to notice when you "reach out" as much as you do is that most people do not give very original advice. A lot of the time the same stuff will come back again and again. That advice didn't help the first 10 times so it's not going to help the next 10 times either.
You also notice pretty quickly that a lot of people somehow think that invalidating your feelings is somehow helpful. Which, just as a sidenote, if you want to give someone advice, one of the best tips I can give you is NOT to do that under any circumstances. Even if you don't agree with their feelings, don't start your "advice" by invalidating them because this kind of advice generally does not work.
Anyway, I've tried a reaching out to so many people now. And not a single person has really been able to help me. A small number of them were able to make me feel just a tad better for an hour or two. Those were the people who did by far the best. My psychologist and one person on the helpline were part of that group. But just because someone manages to make me feel slightly better for a few hours doesn't mean anything in the end.
The thing all of this has made me realize more and more is that there is no help. I think that's something that stops me from actually ending it. Which is this secret hope inside of me that somehow, at some point someone will be able to say something that helps. I think that's also why I keep reaching out to people again and again. Just in the thought that at some time someone will be able to say something that helps. But each time I do, it kills that hope a little bit more. Because pretty much each time I leave disappointed.
No one can help me. Nothing can help me.
In general I also feel very frustrated though about how completely impossible it seems to be for me to change my situation. I mean, one thing that's part of this frustration is that... I'm still extremely heartbroken from a break-up I've gone through. And it's not really going away. And part of me just wants to find someone to cuddle or sleep with or both. Just to kind of make it hurt less for a while. To feel some sort of intimacy or connection. To dull the pain and forget about her for a few hours. But I can't even get that.
I have mixed feelings about the idea anyway. In that I've never slept with someone I wasn't in love with. I've never really wanted to do that. But at this point it hurts too much and I just wish I could kill that pain for an hour or two. And it turns out I can't even do that.
So I get to just continue to live with my pain with no way to take the edge off.
It's just so goddamn miserable. It's so miserable to be in a situation where you feel completely awful and yet even the thing you want to do in desperation as kind of a last resort just to make it hurt less... even that is off limits.
I could in theory hire a prostitute but I like that idea even less... The idea makes me even more uncomfortable. Plus, it's really expensive and I'm not exactly swimming in money.
Not to mention all of this making my body dysmorphia by far the worst it has been since I was a teenager. I want to get so much plastic surgery. But I don't have the money for that either so... that's out too. I can't change anything there either.
I feel like I'm living in quicksand. Like every time I struggled I just get dragged down more. And I'm so tired of struggling, you know. I feel so powerless to change anything. Powerless to even make the pain go away for a little while.
It just re-emphasizes to me that I need to die. That's the only way.
As a sidenote, I don't judge anyone for having casual sex or going to see a prostitute. So please don't interpret anything I said in that way. It's just that personally I've always just felt that for me love and sex came together. I've always only slept with women I've been in love with. And I've always wanted to keep it that way. So the thought of breaking that personal boundary makes me uncomfortable. Although I guess I don't have to worry about it since I'm a worthless piece of shit and no one wants me.
So I have many times. I've talked to my psychologist about it. I've talked to another psychologist about it. I've talked to some people on a helpline about it. I've talked to my doctor about it. I've talked to dozens of random people on social media about it. I've talked about it to basically anyone I could.
But it has kind of had the opposite effect on me that it seems to have been intended to have. Which is that each time I grow more convinced that killing myself is the right choice.
One thing you start to notice when you "reach out" as much as you do is that most people do not give very original advice. A lot of the time the same stuff will come back again and again. That advice didn't help the first 10 times so it's not going to help the next 10 times either.
You also notice pretty quickly that a lot of people somehow think that invalidating your feelings is somehow helpful. Which, just as a sidenote, if you want to give someone advice, one of the best tips I can give you is NOT to do that under any circumstances. Even if you don't agree with their feelings, don't start your "advice" by invalidating them because this kind of advice generally does not work.
Anyway, I've tried a reaching out to so many people now. And not a single person has really been able to help me. A small number of them were able to make me feel just a tad better for an hour or two. Those were the people who did by far the best. My psychologist and one person on the helpline were part of that group. But just because someone manages to make me feel slightly better for a few hours doesn't mean anything in the end.
The thing all of this has made me realize more and more is that there is no help. I think that's something that stops me from actually ending it. Which is this secret hope inside of me that somehow, at some point someone will be able to say something that helps. I think that's also why I keep reaching out to people again and again. Just in the thought that at some time someone will be able to say something that helps. But each time I do, it kills that hope a little bit more. Because pretty much each time I leave disappointed.
No one can help me. Nothing can help me.
In general I also feel very frustrated though about how completely impossible it seems to be for me to change my situation. I mean, one thing that's part of this frustration is that... I'm still extremely heartbroken from a break-up I've gone through. And it's not really going away. And part of me just wants to find someone to cuddle or sleep with or both. Just to kind of make it hurt less for a while. To feel some sort of intimacy or connection. To dull the pain and forget about her for a few hours. But I can't even get that.
I have mixed feelings about the idea anyway. In that I've never slept with someone I wasn't in love with. I've never really wanted to do that. But at this point it hurts too much and I just wish I could kill that pain for an hour or two. And it turns out I can't even do that.
So I get to just continue to live with my pain with no way to take the edge off.
It's just so goddamn miserable. It's so miserable to be in a situation where you feel completely awful and yet even the thing you want to do in desperation as kind of a last resort just to make it hurt less... even that is off limits.
I could in theory hire a prostitute but I like that idea even less... The idea makes me even more uncomfortable. Plus, it's really expensive and I'm not exactly swimming in money.
Not to mention all of this making my body dysmorphia by far the worst it has been since I was a teenager. I want to get so much plastic surgery. But I don't have the money for that either so... that's out too. I can't change anything there either.
I feel like I'm living in quicksand. Like every time I struggled I just get dragged down more. And I'm so tired of struggling, you know. I feel so powerless to change anything. Powerless to even make the pain go away for a little while.
It just re-emphasizes to me that I need to die. That's the only way.
As a sidenote, I don't judge anyone for having casual sex or going to see a prostitute. So please don't interpret anything I said in that way. It's just that personally I've always just felt that for me love and sex came together. I've always only slept with women I've been in love with. And I've always wanted to keep it that way. So the thought of breaking that personal boundary makes me uncomfortable. Although I guess I don't have to worry about it since I'm a worthless piece of shit and no one wants me.
