I've had depression since I was 7, suicidal by 10. Brief remissions here and there.
I was hit with the worst depression episode of my life four years ago. I feel hopeless, and worst of all is, I applied every therapeutic technique I could on myself and mastered my mind. I managed to finish my degree in psychology and neuroscience, I even made a lot of amazing friends whom I am so guilty for having to leave. The way I see it is, my death is no different from dying of any other illness. It's tragic, but living like this is truly unbearable.
I went from a promising student, teaching labs, exercising, volunteering and working on projects on my own to unable to make myself food, changing clothes every couple of weeks. My room is a mess, bins overflowing, living on vaping and energy drinks. Initially, I pushed back. Everyday was torture, I cried for 8 hours a day, stared at walls, but the moment I had energy, I forced myself to exercise, go to therapy, continue my usual activities, and I realised I had anhedonia.
I've went through multiple therapies, did all the homework. I've read every paper on consummatory anhedonia. I tried a few psychiatric meds, but none of them look promising for my symptoms. The more I research, the more despair I feel.
On Saturday, I decided a deadline to ctb, far enough that recovery is still possible but close enough that I feel hope. The prospect of ctb is the only thing that embraces me in my darkest place.
I was hit with the worst depression episode of my life four years ago. I feel hopeless, and worst of all is, I applied every therapeutic technique I could on myself and mastered my mind. I managed to finish my degree in psychology and neuroscience, I even made a lot of amazing friends whom I am so guilty for having to leave. The way I see it is, my death is no different from dying of any other illness. It's tragic, but living like this is truly unbearable.
I went from a promising student, teaching labs, exercising, volunteering and working on projects on my own to unable to make myself food, changing clothes every couple of weeks. My room is a mess, bins overflowing, living on vaping and energy drinks. Initially, I pushed back. Everyday was torture, I cried for 8 hours a day, stared at walls, but the moment I had energy, I forced myself to exercise, go to therapy, continue my usual activities, and I realised I had anhedonia.
I've went through multiple therapies, did all the homework. I've read every paper on consummatory anhedonia. I tried a few psychiatric meds, but none of them look promising for my symptoms. The more I research, the more despair I feel.
On Saturday, I decided a deadline to ctb, far enough that recovery is still possible but close enough that I feel hope. The prospect of ctb is the only thing that embraces me in my darkest place.
