Edit: Im asking because I’m currently going through some serious depression and I’ve been forgetting stuff lately. I wake up every morning with a panic attack, I am too tired to do anything. I barely had any appetite to eat. I just wanted to see if I’m the only one. Hearing stories from others makes me feel less alone.
Sorry if I sound pathetic af, I’m just sad
Edit 2: I’m gonna mark this as NSFW because the potential very traumatic stuff.
You must log in or # to comment.
- sexual abuse from my mom at the age of 5
spoiler
(She held me down and forced me to watch a homemade porno of my dad getting a bj from a hoooker)
-
my friend being murdered in second grade, her dad shot her and her sisters and her grandmother.
-
my mom kidnapping me when I was 8 with her friend and then hiding me in her friends trailer for a year and the only time I could leave was to go to church. Eventually people find out as my dad’s side of the family was looking for me and lawyers got involved but my mom still managed to get custody of me.
-
mom gets mad at me for lying about something miniscule, goes fucking ape shit, picks me up, and body slams me into a picnic table in the back yard and her friend has to come out side and beg her to stop beating me with a towel. That was when I was 8.
-
church stuff continues until I’m like 14
-
finally get away from church and live with dad until I’m around 16 and I get incredibly sick. I’m living with my dad at this point who refuses to take me to the hospital for an entire week until he finds me on the floor in pain. Turns out I had something called twisted gut and was rushed to ER when we got to the hospital where I had surgery and then spent like two months in the hospital recovering.
-
Few months go by and I’m all healed up and doing things with my friends. I come home one day and my dad is getting some photos off a digital camera for me. Then he tells me I could be a model. Then he talks me into posing for what is pretty much borderline cp jailbait shit.
-
eventually people find out about the website and cops come to my high school to interrogate me. They recorded me without my permission and asked me to cover for my dad or else I’d have to be put a home cause I wouldn’t have any parents to live with. Basically they intimidated me into lying so my dad wouldn’t get in trouble for it if I took the blame even though it wasn’t my fault.
-
word is out at the school and I’m forced to drop out. Lose pretty much all my friends in the process except one who already left for college.
-
life continues to be miserable after that until I meet a guy online and convince him to move to Florida and we live together as a couple, unfortunately still with my dad until finally the guy agreed to help me run away. I literally crawled out of my window and we got in a car and drove to a bus station where we took the bus all the way to California where I lived with him for 3 more years.
-
that relationship ends because he cheats on me. I move to Portland, OR homeless with no friends and like $500 in my bank account which quickly went away.
-
manage to get on my feet by 26/27 but end up dating a really abusive guy who eventually tries to choke me to death on my birthday in 2018. he doesn’t succeed because he blacks out during it as he had been drinking heavily, like always.
-
a little later find out this guy was cheating on me for most of the relationship and that when I started seeing him, thinking that he was single, he was actually cheating on a different girl with me until he switched over to me and got me to move in.
That… is pretty much the end of all the truly terrible times in my life? I’m still left with no friends except the one who went to college and I only get to hear from them sometimes as they live on the other side of the country from me still.
Most of my life has been incredibly depressing and traumatizing. I’m not suicidal anymore but I don’t really know why I’m even here breathing other than I have a cat now who I consider to be my best friend and I want to take care of him.
edited to add a spoiler for the really insane stuff
This is just gut wrenching. I’m sorry you had to endure so much shit… but seriously, where would we be without cats? They are my favorite. My wife and I have 5 of them.
Here’s a couple photos to help brighten things up a bit.
sploot
He does this all the time.
They’re not very good players but are great at knocking pieces off the board.
OMG the one of them playing chess!! here’s mine watching tv with me. He looks so profound.
Haha so deep in thought. He must’ve been really invested in whatever you were watching together. A couple of our cats will catch sight of something on the TV and get fixated. Splooty Mac likes to try and grab stuff too with his big mittens.
We have a smaller TV mounted by their cat tower that I’ll often put 8-10 hour cat videos on from YouTube.
We have a smaller TV mounted by their cat tower that I’ll often put 8-10 hour cat videos on from YouTube.
That’s amazing! You know sometimes I feel like my cat is trying mimic my behavior. When I moved in here, he started scooping his kibble and eating out of his paw. And for awhile when I was teaching myself how to roller skate, I’d catch him trying to like slide across the kitchen floor!
And is that cat named Mac too?? Mine’s named Macaroni but I call him Mac for short.
Lmao so his name is Mac, yes… and we call him Macaroni all the time 😂. What are the odds?
The kitchen floor story lmao. I’m picturing a cat sliding around on its tummy. I’ve seen cats do similar, or they’ll lay on their side and pull themselves around by the paws on the side of a couch or something.
I wonder that sometimes. We have another orange cat named Momo and I say his name all the time. When he meows, he always does a dual meow that sounds vaguely like “Momo”. It makes me wonder if he’s meowing in the same way his name sounds.
Lmao so his name is Mac, yes… and we call him Macaroni all the time 😂. What are the odds?
Last time I took mine to the vet there turned out to be someone else there who also had a cat named Macaroni! I didn’t realize it was such a common cat name.
I have hard wood floors so he’d speed up and then I’d see him stop and just ride the rest of the way out sliding on his paws and belly. I wish I could have caught him doing it but when he sees my phone he gets upset and meows at me lol
deleted by creator
A couple of our cats will accept belly rubs. Some like to be held, but Toph, our tortie, does not like to be held at all. It really varies from cat to cat. Our oldest cat is super sweet and loves to be carried around the house over your shoulder. I’ve indeed encountered the “don’t pick me up” squeak lmao.
That are many very traumatising things you have been through. I admire your strength and ability to survive this. However, I wish you had a live where you did not need to be that strong.
I wish you had a live where you did not need to be that strong.
Yeah, me too. I don’t feel strong.
At least its kind of better now? Like overall, everything is good now. But it doesn’t feel good.
I can understand it feels that way, but that does not make it untrue.
I think the stuff you have been through is far worse than the stuff I have been trough. However, some stuff happened to me as well. I was not able to feel better until I was able to process what happened. And I could only start processing stuff when I felt safe enough to do so.
Even though I was in fact safe and I knew it, my body and parts of my brain did not know it. I needed some help from a psychosomatic physiotherapist who helped me to be in a more relaxed state. Then I really started feeling all the pain of what happened to me. It was almost like it became real suddenly. That was horrible and painful. But I found that if I just cried a lot and wrote a lot and just let it wash over me, it would go away. And once it was gone, I finally felt relaxed, safe and I even started feeling good about myself some of the time. I would suddenly feel a lot lighter almost.
I am not there yet, and I still have some processing to do. The physiotherapist left, so I have to find someone else now to help me. But it really helped and I can enjoy life now, at least some of the time.
Maybe something similar is going on with you. I do not know of course, but it could be. Maybe if you are able to process what has happened to you, you might be able to feel good also.
What does processing it really mean? I’ve heard this before but no one seems to be able to explain to me what that is exactly, and what exactly it would do for me.
It is a bit abstract, which makes it difficult to explain. For me, it basically means that I the experience goes through my mind with all details and the feelings that belong with it. The feelings usually increase until they are at their top and then they reduce again. After that, that feeling with the experience might not be as prominent, but I might have new feelings and thoughts about it, for which I do the same. This happens until I feel more at ease with the experience and it troubles me less.
For example, when I am processing the loss of my sister, I might think about when she was suffering a lot. Her pain is painful to me. So, I might cry about it and feel hurt myself. But after a while, that passes. Next, I feel guilty about not having been able to help her better. I might feel really bad about myself and almost wanting to hide. And I might feel like that for a time, until I think about that she never wanted me to feel guilty and she would never want me to beat myself up in this way about it. And that helps to comfort me. This goes on, until, in the end, I am somewhat more at peace with it. I might think, for example, something like that her suffering has been in the past and that at least she is not suffering now.
So, to me, processing is going through the experience in my mind and feel all the feelings that belong with it as freely as possible. There are like layers of feelings and you go to a deeper layer each time. This changes it in such a way that it is easier to live with.
I do have PTSD. For PTSD memories this is much more difficult. There I seem to get stuck in this process and never go to a next layer of feelings and it does not improve by just trying to process it. What does help for me is EMDR treatment for these memories. Often, after the treatment, I am able to process it much better.
I am not sure whether it is the samen for you, but this is how it works for me and I think for some other people as well. Processing things is not easy during the process, but for me, it makes my life much better once I am done processing. If I do not do it, I get stuck and I feel anxious and down.
Does this explanation help you?
Ah, this sounds like what I have been doing on my own my entire life without the help of therapists/psychologists. I’ve gotten a lot of pushback on this of course telling me that it wouldn’t be possible to have done that on my own or that I didn’t “really” process my trauma.
I don’t really know if I believe that though. I think I did process it and my trauma itself - all the stuff I posted, that doesn’t bother me anymore.
What bothers me is the aftermath. I’m a successful person with a full time job, my own apartment, and I’m responsible with paying my bills and getting everything taken care of like I’m supposed to. But I do that all alone. And while I keep trying to make friends, its like there is this disconnect cause I’m just not like other people.
Everyone has trauma and all that but most people weren’t isolated from society by a cult. And most people weren’t the victim of CSA in the way that I was.
I feel like I’m okay with it though cause I can just casually talk about it and it never really bothers me, but I do see it makes other people like wildly uncomfortable. So I don’t talk about it unless its something like this where people are sharing that sort of thing. But that’s just cause I don’t like making other people uncomfy. But if people weren’t uncomfy, I could talk about this in depth. Even most therapists get uncomfy when I mention these things though. Which is alarming to me.
I actually did try to see an EMDR specialist who turned out to be full of shit and didn’t really practice EMDR. She made off with at least $300 from me. Kept telling me for months that we would get to it and we never did. I was already seeing a different therapist at the time who was also confused as to why this women kept putting it off - but that therapist just kept telling me to be more assertive about it?
Well I was assertive about it and the woman had to admit that she doesn’t really do EMDR but we could try to “process” my trauma and then she dropped me as a client. And of course where I live, there aren’t many EMDR specialists and of course that scam artist was the one that was available for clients. The other ones aren’t taking new clients and don’t even have waiting lists.
All that said, your comment was very helpful because I think it breaks down what processing really is.
I am just unfortunately a weird case that most people don’t seem to know what to do with.
I believe you. And that you have been able to process this already, shows again that you are strong.
I am familiar with the feeling of being disconnected. My trauma is different from yours, but also difficult to understand or imagine for a lot of people. However, I found that other traumatised people are sometimes at least a lot easier to talk to, even if they do not understand completely. They are just not that scared by it, without minimizing what happened. I do have a couple of good friends now, who are very kind and very willing to talk with me about these things. Even if they might not completely understand, they do accept me. That helps a lot. I hope you will find people in your life like that as well.
I agree that it is very alarming that the therapist was uncomfy with what you were telling them. That should not happen. They should have been trained to be able to deal with difficult stuff. That is very unprofessional of them. The same is the case of the therapist that told you to just be more assertive and even more so for the scam artist. It is incredibly mean to try and scam people who are traumatized. You need to be a deeply pathetic person to do that.
I am in the very fortunate situation that I live in a country that pays for the costs of any EMDR and therapy that I need and we have well educated therapists here. So, fortunately, for me it is very easy to get that treatment. I can understand that for you it might be much more difficult to arrange this. However, if you ever get the chance to do real EMDR, it might be good to try. I am not sure whether you have these intrusive images, or sounds or feelings etc from your trauma, but for me it worked especially well for that. Of course it does not work for everyone, but it might be worth the try.
I am no therapist, but if you need a listening ear sometimes, just send me a message. I have had different life from you, so I might not immediately understand or I might not always say the right thing. However, I am not easily shocked or uncomfortable.
Jesus. That was difficult to read but I can imagine it was even more difficult to live through. I’m really sorry all that happened to you.
If I may ask, what was the reasoning behind the first thing you mentioned? That just sounds so insane. Was she just trying to show you that your dad was cheating on her to turn you against him or was it more like she got off on it?
oh you know what - I think I meant to put that part under a spoiler! Welp.
You’re right though, I believe her motive was to show me that my dad was cheating on her with some hooker.
Oh my god. I can’t even comprehend. I really hope the next 30 years turn out to be better for you.
lol yeah I’m trying.
I’d say, right now.
My Best friend of 35 years recently passed away, I’m facing three simultaneous surgery procedures in my nose (deviated septum, bone spur remove, and FESS) and I’m terrified of this. (Never so much as sprained an ankle in 51 years). And the side effects of the infection from sinusitis is causing serious mental health issues on top of the fact that I already have ASD, bad anxiety/depression and ADHD.
Right now, my life has been an abject horror-filled waking nightmare with no safe place to find hope.
But I’ll get through this.
Just recovering from surgery right now. I was terrified going in, but the actual surgery was simple. They give you anesthesia and you fall asleep before you even realize they started it, and wake up what feels like seconds later in recovery. You’ll be sore afterwards but the pain medication keeps the pain to a low or acceptable level.
Just remember, the surgery is necessary and in the long run you’ll feel much better.
This is good to know. Thank you for replying. I’ll try and remember to bring this with me when I go in myself. I might need to read this several hundred times.
When my youngest daughter died.
deleted by creator
- The night I had to put down my cat (he was the best boy).
- Dealing with the aftermath of a family member’s suicide.
- The day my twin first moved far away from me.
- The death of my grandmother.
- The time I was hospitalized against my will for a mental health issue.
- The first panic attack I experienced and the subsequent fallout.
All said, I have lived a pretty lucky life and am a successful person (by my account). But even so, life is full of this type of stuff for pretty much everyone. Fun question, OP!
The night I had to put down my cat (he was the best boy).
It’s always so terrible to lose a pet. I love my cat so much, I try not to think about the day I know is gonna come.
It really is gut-wrenchingly hard! I have lots of good mementos of him and (sorry if this is creepy) have kept his ashes. I went on a months-long roadtrip/move earlier this year and his urn was along for the ride. He hated the car, lol.
deleted by creator
In chronological order:
-
Finding out my uncle died suddenly
-
Fleeing my childhood home while a wildfire was barrelling down the mountainside towards it
-
Having to put my dog down
-
A 5 year relationship ending after I had put everything I had into it
Overall I have led a very fortunate, privileged life.
-
The day I failed US Air Force basic training.
The day I failed out of college.
In no order:
- breaking my wrist at the beginning of the year
- dad dying of cancer in 2007
- mom dying from a long-term infection in her spine, while suffering from Alzheimer’s and having no helpful doctors; during the peak of COVID too which made Hospice visits a real hellscape
- my closest aunt dying of cancer when I was still young
- brother dying from a heroin overdose when I was a kid. We got the phone call at 12am one day
- when one of our cats got FIP (essentially covid for cats) and we had to spend $6k for underground meds. He’s cured now but having to give him an injection every single day for 6 months was not good for my mental health
I’ve spent a lot of time in and out of hospitals and 95% of the time was for other people (or pets). Have to say I’m not a fan.
The one about FIP got me. I lost a cat to FIP several years ago and couldn’t get the drugs on the black market. Had to watch her die.
I’m so sorry for the loss of your kitty. We were preparing for the same thing but got really lucky and found a Facebook group that had a contact near us. I wish it were more accessible for everyone. We still have some of the injection meds in our fridge and I would gladly part with them for free if I knew it could help someone.
It’s so good that the disease is manageable now. I see my vet and every time I do, I ask her how FIP treatment is going and she says the drug has completely turned the tables on FIP. She said it’s hard to overstate the impact of the treatment on cats and their owners.
TL;DR You definitely aren’t alone. Basically all of the worst moments of my life were in 2022. It broke me mentally and physically.
BUT… I’m a lot better now, and I’m both surprised and elated how quickly the turn around was.
The Long Version
I took a new job at the start of the year, it was supposedly fewer hours for about the same money, that turned out to be very untrue.I found myself working 60 hours a week regularly, and maxed at 90 one week. They operated and off-in-lieu instead of paid overtime, so the extra just accumulated, but there was never time to use it.
(For those who would say I did it to myself, you’re absolutely right, I was so wrapped up in other people’s opinions, I never put myself first. This was a key focus of my time with a therapist.)
On top of the never ending stress and 0 work-life boundaries (emails and messages at all hours, all days) there were a few tramatic events (I was mugged, death in the family) and my partner was away for work for a long time so I felt very alone in dealing.
By September 2022, all of my coping strategies were unhealthy, i felt like an anxious powder keg, anything could set off a panic attack and I was sad, deeply sad all the time. I couldn’t figure out why we do this, there was no light at the end of the tunnel.
Then, I quit. I wish I could say my partner was supportive, but I don’t think they realised how close to the edge I was because they were away so often. I had to insist, and just do it. Months later as I started sharing more they realised.
I spent about 4 months struggling, I thought time off would help, but it wasn’t. After a particularly rough (and public) panic attack I made a video doctor appointment.
PTSD, Anxiety, Depression. Having a diagnosis helped a lot. This was real and I didn’t need to tough it out.
They put me on a low-dose SSRI and set up CBT (congnative behavioural [talk] therapy). My therapy was over the phone, the only option covered by my wife’s insurance. At first, my therapist seemed too eager, too happy, but she adjusted once I started sharing. Talking to someone with an understanding and empathy made such a huge difference right away.
We tackled my need to please everyone, but more importantly the ineffectiveness of “worry”. Specifically hypothetical worries, things that haven’t happened and might not. We identified my behaviour loops and found small ways to break them, building new core beliefs. Life wasn’t always hard. Happiness can be found. I am important.
I finished my last appointment this week. Insurance would have covered 3 more, but her and I both agreed I didn’t need it. After 3 months my self identity had completely changed, I am now often time the person talking others (my partner, my mother) down from their worries. I ask for the things I need from other people, I ask for help.
There is still work to be done, adventures to chase and experiences to have. I’m being weaned off the SSRIs and I plan to start work again in the next few months.
This is just my story, everyone’s is different. But you are not alone, so many of us have been there and it can get better.
ETA: on the physical side, I’ve just got my bloodwork back with an all clear. I need to eat better and exercise more, but no lasting damage. My back is still pretty messed up, but the doc says it’s just muscular, so I’ll do my daily stretching and it should improve with time.
I’m sorry for not wanting to share just now, but there is something else I would like to say.
You are not alone. We all suffer sooner or later (or almost constantly, as some of the replies here show). At the same time, it is very rare for someone to teuly inderstand our suffering, to really grasp what we are going through. That is where self compassion comes in - be your own best friend. There are many online resources for this, or reach out to the mental health community. Self-compassion is such a big deal (amd very different from self-pity!!).
Also, focus on positive things. And I know this can come accross as saying: enjoy the view to a blind person. But start small. What are things you can think of you are greatful for today? A meal, a walk, a friend, pet, even a kind of funny meme or a song that ‘just gets you’. Make it a habit to think about this stuff. What is here right now that is good?
Please take care of yourself OP, ask for help when needed. We all do once in a while. Be kind to yourself and stay stong!
The worst moment in my life was when I quit my band. There was way too much drama. We were all acting like children. I almost lost my best friends over it. It completely killed my passion for music, which never came back (this was over a decade ago).
Our parents were “moderating” the conversation because we were all acting like children. But our parents all sucked at being neutral and that just added to the drama.
Eventually we all swallowed our prides and apologized, and we were all able to admit that we were acting shitty, but so much damage was done.
When I turned 18, my parents stopped intervening in my bad decisions. This led to me neglecting a lot of my basic needs. I also discovered the magic of coffee at this time, which meant I didn’t get a lot of sleep.
Here’s a short list of some things that happened during this period:
- Realized my spiritual beliefs were provably wrong, then realized how strong the placebo effect is, then realized a bunch of my core memories were provably fake. Cue 6 months of existential crisis where I had no clue what was real and was unsure if I existed
- while in the shower before my 5 am lifeguard shift, I looked down to see a foot in the shower with me. Could not figure out who it belonged to, since I was alone. It also seemed to be reading my mind, since if I thought about wiggling my toes then the mystery foot would wiggle its toes. Reached down to pick up the foot, then realized it was attached to my leg.
- girlfriend of 3 years broke up with me
- While my parents were away on vacation (and I hadn’t slept in a while) I saw an alien hovering outside my front door at 3 am
- I regularly saw shadow tentacles reaching out and interacting with people and objects around me (this was caused by caffeine toxicity plus sleep deprivation)
- fell asleep on the lifeguard chair. Thankfully my boss was understanding, but that’s where I started to realize I had a problem
- had some suicidal ideation after parents threatened to kick me out
- realized my most reliable friend was a neonazi and a pedophile
I spent the next few years working on myself, and at 21 my prefrontal cortex came in the mail and made everything easier. By 23 i had achieved all my mental health goals. I am now 26, I have a wonderful fiancée, and I am happier day-to-day than I ever have been.
Hope you feel better soon!
TL;DR You’re definitely not the only one. I had to drop out of college because of my toxic family and spend 3 years afterwards wafting around with no purpose and no will to live. But I figured things out and am doing much better now. If my dumb ass can pull it off, you can too.
The year I was in college, and the few years after I dropped out. I went to school as a music education major. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life, and with how active I was in my high school’s orchestra program most of my family and teachers really pushed me to pursue a career in music. The idea of trying to survive as a gigging musician was honestly a little terrifying, so I decided to major in music education instead of music performance since being a teacher seemed like the more stable route. Turns out I hate kids. Who woulda thunk it?
I went to college in my hometown, so I stayed home instead of living on campus. I lived with my mom and sister who were both alcoholics with bipolar disorder. Plus, music ed is apparently a pretty busy major. So I would have 12 hours worth of classes and assisting student teachers that I wasn’t particularly enjoying, just to come home and break up a fist fight and then (try to) go to sleep in a room with a gaping hole in the ceiling that all of the roaches that infested the walls would enter the rest of the house through.
Needless to say, this environment was not conducive to succeeding in school. I lost my academic scholarship. Previously, that was enough to pay for all of my schooling, but without it I’d have to take out loans every semester just to finish a major that I didn’t even know if I wanted to do anymore and there was no way in hell I was doing that. So I dropped out and started working while volunteering with the university symphony, until I got a new job with a new schedule that meant I had to stop playing with them. It was an Amazon fulfillment center. Feel free to google that to see why I only lasted a few weeks. I lost touch with the few friends I made in college, I had a falling out with the closest friend I ever had, I now officially had no purpose in life since I wasn’t able to do anything with music, and had no plan for getting myself out of my abusive and toxic home life.
That period was rough, but I eventually made it out of there. Long story short, I was able to do warehouse work until I could move out, I did a 3 month program at a community college to get some IT certifications, and now I make $70k/yr to work from home doing tech support for robots with plans to finally move out of my home town later this year.
The night of July 8 – 9 of this year. I am manic depressive in a fantastic way and the way I felt that night was the worst I have ever been; even the breakdown I had in college, though lasting for a longer period of time because reasons, wasn’t as bad as that was. By the grace of God I made it through. I was almost gibbering mad, and you might strike the “almost” depending on whether text messages and e-mails never sent count.
Then, at about 3:00 in the morning, it was like I went through the five stages of grief in the span of two hours, and then all was calm. Seroquel is a seriously powerful drug. It’s like the mania ran right into Mjölnir.
The worst ‘moment’ is a long and ongoing moment that started at age 0 to today and likely forever. I haven’t felt glad to be alive once in my life and I doubt it will ever happen. Too much of coward to kill myself, so I’m just hoping a brain aneurysm will take me out quick and painless. I just want to check out of the bullshit existence that happens against my consent day after day.
