MrBrownUpsideD
Member
- Apr 9, 2023
- 50
This was originally supposed to be a reply to a comment, but I figured it was too much vent and off-topic.
I've been in and out of therapy, for both high suicidal risk and regular. I never stopped searching for a CTB method that fit me because it was all so outrageously useless. I never felt one step closer to being content. I even got myself hospitalised for 3 months at a department that specialises in diagnosing. They never got past the idea that it might be a personality disorder. They even suggested I transfer to a department that treats PDs very intensly. Seeing as they hadn't got any bit closer after 3 months of diagnosing (which might have been the most miserable period of my life because I couldn't even cope with gaming anymore) I just gave up, told them my symptoms had become managable, and moved on. The prognosis for personality disorders tends to be very bad as well, with living becoming managable at best after years of therapy, trying out medication, and frequent relapses or depressive episodes. Despite that, I still saw a lot of people there that benefited from the treatment they provided. Therapy and hospitalisation may not be for everybody, but it's worth a shot.
What really put the nail in the coffin for me was losing a very good friend that had been supporting me for the past 2 years with my issues. They had been making appointments for me when I was too anxious or tired, skipping school and work to force me to go outside on particularly bad days or after prolonged periods of self-isolation, allowing me to vent all my problems (no topic was off the table), being a very positive and bubbly influence when all I could see was dark, among many other things. They might not have been able to relate with everything that I was saying, but they were still making a great effort to care for me. The type of care I had never got from anyone, not even close family or childhood friends. I don't know what I ever did to deserve them.
I obviously didn't deserve them as our regular contact quickly broke down after they had disposed of my N while they were grabbing stuff from my dorm room while I was getting hospitalised, something I had made them promise they wouldn't do (which was very unfair to ask of them in retrospect). I didn't say anything harmful about her personally, but I was very angry about them breaking a boundary and I was being an ungrateful dick in general. I was very quick to apologize, obviously, because I had become dependent on her. It took them a month to respond back, simply stating they were busy with work while denying any negative feelings about the interaction. From then on I had to initiate all the conversations, which would take weeks to get a short response. At first I was bitter because she didn't care to inquire about my experience at the hospital or personal feelings, like all my other friends. But then I felt overwhelming guilt, as this friendship had been very one-sided from the start. She did all the effort and had to forcibly stop discussions when I was very adamant about a topic and wanted to convince them. All I ever did was allow them to vent. Hell, they probably were just very exhausted from their new job and didn't have the energy left to talk about my issues on top of it. But I never managed to get my head out of my ass, because I could only ever value our friendship on what they could provide for me. I never stopped to consider what I could be doing for them. I still don't think I'm there. I've been a lazy leech my entire life, and I don't see it changing any time soon. Meaningful relationships just aren't sustainable this way. One of my many reasons to CTB.
I've been in and out of therapy, for both high suicidal risk and regular. I never stopped searching for a CTB method that fit me because it was all so outrageously useless. I never felt one step closer to being content. I even got myself hospitalised for 3 months at a department that specialises in diagnosing. They never got past the idea that it might be a personality disorder. They even suggested I transfer to a department that treats PDs very intensly. Seeing as they hadn't got any bit closer after 3 months of diagnosing (which might have been the most miserable period of my life because I couldn't even cope with gaming anymore) I just gave up, told them my symptoms had become managable, and moved on. The prognosis for personality disorders tends to be very bad as well, with living becoming managable at best after years of therapy, trying out medication, and frequent relapses or depressive episodes. Despite that, I still saw a lot of people there that benefited from the treatment they provided. Therapy and hospitalisation may not be for everybody, but it's worth a shot.
What really put the nail in the coffin for me was losing a very good friend that had been supporting me for the past 2 years with my issues. They had been making appointments for me when I was too anxious or tired, skipping school and work to force me to go outside on particularly bad days or after prolonged periods of self-isolation, allowing me to vent all my problems (no topic was off the table), being a very positive and bubbly influence when all I could see was dark, among many other things. They might not have been able to relate with everything that I was saying, but they were still making a great effort to care for me. The type of care I had never got from anyone, not even close family or childhood friends. I don't know what I ever did to deserve them.
I obviously didn't deserve them as our regular contact quickly broke down after they had disposed of my N while they were grabbing stuff from my dorm room while I was getting hospitalised, something I had made them promise they wouldn't do (which was very unfair to ask of them in retrospect). I didn't say anything harmful about her personally, but I was very angry about them breaking a boundary and I was being an ungrateful dick in general. I was very quick to apologize, obviously, because I had become dependent on her. It took them a month to respond back, simply stating they were busy with work while denying any negative feelings about the interaction. From then on I had to initiate all the conversations, which would take weeks to get a short response. At first I was bitter because she didn't care to inquire about my experience at the hospital or personal feelings, like all my other friends. But then I felt overwhelming guilt, as this friendship had been very one-sided from the start. She did all the effort and had to forcibly stop discussions when I was very adamant about a topic and wanted to convince them. All I ever did was allow them to vent. Hell, they probably were just very exhausted from their new job and didn't have the energy left to talk about my issues on top of it. But I never managed to get my head out of my ass, because I could only ever value our friendship on what they could provide for me. I never stopped to consider what I could be doing for them. I still don't think I'm there. I've been a lazy leech my entire life, and I don't see it changing any time soon. Meaningful relationships just aren't sustainable this way. One of my many reasons to CTB.
