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About Cerberus

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  1. Lil’Belittlement - To my knowledge, this is the first time we’ve ever had a member ask a question regarding tulpamancy, so you may not get much feedback on it specifically. We simply don’t have that many adherents to Tibetan mysticism and its offshoots. In general, Crazyboards is a science-driven forum, so we approach conditions of the human mind as states of normal function versus medical/psychological pathology. Although some of us, myself included, believe that valid scientific inquiry requires that an open mind be kept to every possibility, we most often look to alternate explanations for paranormal/metaphysical phenomena rather than taking them at face value. From my limited understanding of tulpamancy, your results in producing highly negative and distressing personalities that you now have to cope with is not the intended result; many tulpamancers conjure imaginary personas with in a constructive way to positively cope with various life issues. Indeed, some experts studying tulpamancers have suggested that the voices they hear in their minds are not a sign of pathology at all, because pathology is defined by distress. You, however, are in distress, and your depression is a result of, rather than the cause of, the issue with the voices. Although you do not list schizophrenia among your diagnoses, I am going to move your topic to the Schizophrenia board. This is not to suggest that you are schizophrenic - no one here is qualified to deliver any kind of diagnosis - but rather to put your question in front of more readers who may be able to relate. While our members dealing with schizophrenia may not be tulpamancers, they definitely know a thing or three about coping with negative voices in your head.
  2. I’m going to dissent on the coffee. The caffeine in coffee does act to stimulate the muscles in the lower bowel to produce a movement, but coffee also acts to dehydrate you, which is the opposite of what you need for long-haul bowel health. More fiber, yes, but not all fiber is equal. You’re looking for insoluble fiber, such as is found in whole grain foods, root vegetables, celery, cucumbers, nuts and seeds. The most tailor-made source of this for your specific problem is Metamucil. A spoon or two of it, taken with a full cup of water, generally produced a movement within 12 to 72 hours. The key with Metamucil (and no, I’m not being paid to advertise, I just use it) is to use it on a regular basis to keep things moving once you get them started. For acute distress, you can always try an over-the-counter stool softener or a laxative, or even castor oil, but you don’t want to make a habit of any of these, especially with med-induced constipation. These are medications, too, and have downsides of their own. If your constipation is being caused by your MI meds and this has been going on for a while, or looks like a side effect that has set in for the duration, it’s probably worth a discussion with your pdoc. Remember, our mantra here is: Which Sucks Less? If your MI meds start causing suckage worse than your MI, it might be necessary to try a different med that doesn’t clog up the works.
  3. @esmerinhell - Welcome to Crazyboards. The reason you've found posts dating to the mid 2000s is that we've been here a while - since 2005. That's a lot of talking about feeling crazy. As you cruise through the topics and posts, you're sure to find things relevant to your concerns, and we encourage you to dig through past discussions. We're also a living, breathing site with ongoing discussions. This particular board is sensitive by its nature, and it does have a specific set of guidelines, which you should take a look over before you start posting in depth. If you have questions, please don't hesitate to contact any moderator or administrator. Cerberus Moderator
  4. This is tricky, because children are walking minefields of potential for things to go horribly wrong with parenting (says the father of two). Fortunately, they're also incredibly resilient, with both bodies and minds made of rubber, the latter tending to impart a certain stubborn willfulness in the teen years. Mine are 23 and 21, respectively, and we are even now working through the aftermath of them growing up with a father who suffered from mental illness. The fact was not concealed from them; I did my best to explain, plainly and factually, what was happening to me and why, and what I was doing about it, so that they understood that it wasn't their doing. It seemed doubly important to me that they understand the nature of MI and how to deal with it face-on, because I could see the signs of it in them as well, even before they were themselves formally diagnosed. I didn't want either of them to have to suffer through a childhood and adolescence the way I did in confusion and mental torment because I had no idea what was wrong with my own head. To one extent, I was successful. Both of my kids developed cognitive skills early on to identify and cope with anxiety and depressive thinking, and developed a vocabulary to talk about what goes on in their heads. They're a light-year ahead of where I was at their age in terms of getting a handle on my mental health. The problem is, none of my factual, by-the-book explanations made up for the times when Dad would unexpectedly snap and become furious, or when Dad would become unresponsive, or when Dad was unable to show the kind of positive reaction a child needs to build self-esteem. Sometimes actions speak louder. I wasn't good at explanations after-the-fact; I was usually only good at explanations in the abstract. It also didn't help that as an Aspie I couldn't always read in their expressions that I had hurt them. In hindsight, I would say the following: • Should you talk to him about it? Yes. It's vital that he understands what's going on with you. This page from the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry has some good information about discussing MI with kids. • Remember that explaining is not enough. He is still a child, and no matter how well you explain what is happening to you, he does not have the maturity or experience to cope with it as an adult could. The explanation does not, in other words, get you off the hook. You still have to be responsible for how your MI may affect the child, and do everything you can to minimize its impact. • Make use of any help you've got. If another person is involved in the child's care, make sure that you're working together to give the child support and reassurance when you're on the ropes. Even if your own behavior in the moment may be frightening or disconcerting, the voice of another adult calmly explaining your situation and reassuring the child may carry a weight your own would not at that moment. • Don't wait for your child to come to you with concerns. That may not happen until much too much time has passed - like, 21 years. Good luck. Six-year-olds are the devil - they have questions.
  5. I am dealing with this very issue now that Effexor has failed me after a decade. I'm on my survival combo of wellbutrin/adderall, which keeps me from setting fire to myself, but I'm feeling things again, and that's not so good for an autistic depressive. It's nice that my muse has started talking to me again, up to the point that some random wave of anguish leaps on me like unawares like some leopard that has been eyeing me hungrily from a nearby tree and decided I looked enough like a Thompson's gazelle to give it a go. As it is gnawing on my cervical vertebrae I miss the dull sense of mental peace I experienced on Effexor. Note: I did not say 'enjoyed', just 'experienced'. I've never reached a point in either state that I could call enjoying life. I just hope the leopard enjoys the meal, at least.
  6. InfiniteInsanity - If I may direct your attention to paragraph six of the Crazyboards User Agreement, which you agreed to upon creating your account here, you will find that: We reserve the right to display your posts indefinitely. They are ultimately your intellectual property to use elsewhere as you may please, but don't show up six months later and ask us to remove all your posts. You most likely will not like the results. In order to maintain the integrity of forum threads it may not always be possible to remove every post you have ever made. We do not delete user accounts. This forum is a community endeavor, and the individual interactions between members connect with each other inextricably to form a whole body of peer support. Removing entire accounts would leave any number of discussions suddenly without context, and potentially meaningless to future users. You chose to become part of our community, to engage with us, glean what you could, and contribute what you might. You don't have to continue to participate, but you can't un-participate what you've already participated in. If you have a need to not be associated with your content here, please contact me or any Moderator or Administrator; we can arrange to alter a username under certain circumstances where linkage between the username and in-person identity presents a problem. Cerberus Moderator
  7. The emails are possibly spam, attempting to get you to click on something or divulge information - but they are also, in your case, a warning. A concentrated attempt has been made to access your Crazyboards account by login from a large number of IP addresses in very rapid succession, indicating an automated attack with your email address as its source. Your account is secure - the system worked as designed to repel the unauthorized access while still allowing you to log in. What this means, however, is that somewhere out there, bad people have the email address you used to make your account here, and are actively trying to use it to access your accounts. Don’t panic. Now would be a good time to review all the places you’ve used that email address to link up your life, go there, and change/beef up your passwords. Make them strong, 12 or more characters including at least one Capital and one lowercase letter, one numeral, and one special character like the ones over the numbers on your keyboard. If you have the option to secure accounts with Two-Factor Authorization,, do so. Let me reassure you, your CB account has not been compromised. You are safe here. The world outside is scary, though, so check your accounts, okay?
  8. This occurred to me as well. He has absolutely crossed the line into sociopathy, were there any lingering doubt. He is, quite simply and plainly, mentally unwell. Something's got to give.
  9. The tweet shown above is more or less exactly what went through my mind when I read the news - it was a severe blow for atheists and agnostics everywhere as Donald Trump proved that there is a God. Or at least that Karma is a big, round bitch. The lyrics from Chicago’s “Cell Block Tango” keep running through my head: He had it coming He had it coming He only had himself to blame What irritates me about all this is that even now - even now - Trump manages to twist our better natures against us by dragging us to his level. No, one shouldn’t wish an incurable, potentially deadly virus on anybody - as a six-year AIDS survivor I personally have a keener appreciation of this than most - and yet in this case, we do. Because it is poetic justice, it is richly deserved, and it is absolutely delicious. I say that with no sense on hate or resentment or gloating or partisanship. Donald Trump, by every reasonable societal metric, is a toxic personality behaving in an abominable fashion, causing great harm to those around him with a clear dearth of empathy. (The term for this, by the way, is sociopathy.) In a lawless, barbaric society, the cure for this would be the sword. We, however, have developed a civilization of laws and ethics which appreciate and value human rights and liberties and, indeed, life as an intrinsic imperative. That is to say, getting all stabby with people We don’t like is no longer acceptable because we wouldn’t want it for ourselves. We have reached a point of societal empathy wherein we have learned to ask ourselves whether the fate we wish on another is a fate we would wish on ourselves. All to the good. The problem arises when we are confronted with an individual like Trump who blatantly doesn’t share this ethos. He stomps all over everyone and everything with his grubby boots on because he isn’t constrained by worrying about the rights or needs of others - it’s al about him. He’s functionally a black hole in human form, swallowing up everything that gets close enough. Our ethical framework has no mechanism to readily cope with someone who doesn’t interface with it at all. The only sport I’ve ever been any good at (appropós swords) is fencing. And I’m not bad at it. But it is practically impossible to fence successfully with someone who knows absolutely nothing about how to use a sword because they just flail about in a wild and uncontrolled manner, as likely to do damage to themselves as to their opponent. They don’t interface with the framework. So when we try to apply our ethical framework to a person like Donald Trump, we feel a dissonance - we know that our thinking is as it should be, but our hearts rebel because our system is also predicated on a balance of rights that we call justice, and in a case like this, justice fails. So far, justice has failed bigly as concerns Trump. He has done and said so much outrageous shit, told so many bald and shameless lies, and as yet endured no consequence for any of it. Why is this a problem? Because if any person can do it with impunity, every person in an equal society will be entitled to try, and the only reason humans are able to live as social animals is that we understand that we can’t all have everything we want at the same time. Put simply, there could never be a human species made up entirely of Donald Trumps. Homo Trumpensis would annihilate itself within a generation. Should we weep for this tragic, doomed species? Similar question: Should we weep for this tragic, doomed man who has caught COVID-19 for no other reason than his own stupidity and foolish obstinacy? The best medical advisors in the world counseled him. He had access to the greatest personal security network of any human on the entire planet. Had he chosen to secure himself from this threat, he could have placed himself beyond its reach. Instead, he went out if his way to thumb his nose at fate, and in the style of classic Greek myth, the gods have shown what happens when mortals thumb noses. He’s lucky he wasn’t turned into a bush in the Rose Garden and left there to listen to political speeches for eternity. The immediate parade of world leaders and political figures piling on with variations on “We wish him a speedy recovery” was both a) sickening for its obvious insincerity and b) interesting in that it showed how figures of all political stripes rushed to grab the opportunity to show that they had not sunk to Trump’s level and were still capable of functioning within the shared human ethical framework of compassion and concern. The fact that the compassion an concern in this case was as real as a 3-Euro coin doesn’t matter (looking at you, Angela Merkel). I don’t hope he suffers. I don’t hope he ends up on a ventilator. I don’t hope he dies - even though that would remove a proximal nexus of much current chaos, Trump isn’t the cause of America’s illness - he’s a symptom. I have no expectation that he will “learn something” from this when and if he recovers; his psychological architecture depends upon himself never being at fault or responsible for anything negative - if he accepts one thing, he must accept others, and there will be so many that they will crush his psyche. Subconsciously he realizes this and therefore can never, ever permit it. This will be no different. This will be something that happened to him, or was done to him, which he overcame through his great virtue (or suffered because of someone else’s vileness), and his experience was unique and more significant than anyone else’s was or ever will be. Thus he elevates himself to an internal psychological pinnacle of such staggering height that eventually it simply becomes impossible to sustain in the face if reality and comes crashing down into total mental ruin. That is what I weep for in Donald Trump as a man, as a tragic figure. He is desperately fighting a ferocious internal battle that he is not going to win, and he may be fighting it until the day he dies, COVID or no COVID. But I also have concern for the souls his soul intersects with, which, as leader of the Free World, is a very great many, and though I may have compassion for his suffering, there are other lives that have to be considered, and weighed, in balance. Would it be better for the individual if he recovered? Yes. Would it be better for the body of those he affects if he recovered? Probably not. Placing the needs of the many on the scale against the needs of the man, the scale tilts in preference of one outcome over another - and this is scale is not the same as the scale of justice. As you can tell, the Cerberus Little Wonder Analytic-O-Matic Positronic Brain has thought a lot about this for the last couple of days, and spent far too much time wording it out. Having done this, I just received a notification that a high school friend of mine just tweeted: I’ve just been diagnosed with schadenfreude. I always did love her.
  10. Yesterday I observed a person in a well-used white pickup truck drive through the gate into the field behind one of my dad's barns and begin doing doughnuts, revving his engine and spinning the vehicle around in circles, tearing up the sod, close enough to the barn that he could easily have struck it. I was out cleaning the yard, so, hoe in hand, I ventured out to investigate and found a young (as I later learned) ne'er-do-well behind the wheel. He got out and in response to my perfectly reasonable request to know what he thought he was doing, he told he he was there to pick someone up. A short tete-a-tete followed in which I explained that he was on my family's property and if he had been sent to pick someone up he was to either sit still and do it, or go park and wait by the side of the road. He then used his phone to call someone and say, "Yeah, where is he? There's the old guy here [me, evidently, 53] who's mad - calm down, mister [I was perfectly calm, if irritated] - okay, well, tell him I'm here." He then proceeded to inform me that he had a right to be there because this was "their ground". "Oh? And whose ground is that?" I asked. "My boss'," he said, and named my family's family-owned company. "That's my father, and this is our ground, and you can get back in your truck and sit there quietly and wait, or your can go park by the side of the road. What's your name?" "None of your business." "You're on our ground, so it's very much my business." He then said - and this is the point of the whole narrative - "You'd better not try to hit me with that hoe." And then he turned around to get back into his truck. It had not crossed my mind to assault him with the hoe, and indeed, I had quite forgotten I was holding it. Had I intended to confront someone armed with a weapon of violence (as if - my weapons are words, and I am thus always armed and dangerous), a grubbing hoe would not have been my first, second, or even fifteenth choice. Yet this young nit - who but moments prior was hurling himself bodily about in an uncontrolled vehicle - apparently saw menace in a garden implement. I have never been in a fight in my life. The closest I ever came was in the fourth grade, when a hugely fat boy took umbrage at me for reasons that remain unclear to me to this day, and decided that only a bout of fisticuffs would settle the matter. For the first and only time in my life I found myself encircled by a ring of my peers, facing this young pustule with his fists raised before his red, doughy face, and I thought: This is absurd. "I will not fight you," I said, turned by back on him, pushed my way out of the ring of gawkers, and walked away. I've always felt rather bad for him; it must have been humiliating to have someone casually decline such a challenge without any fear at all. Still, I felt none, and would feel none today if thus challenged. Even if someone pulled a gun on me it wouldn't rattle me particularly. Guns aren't for threatening people. Once you pull one out and point it, you either use it or you look a fool. There's no middle ground. If someone pulls a gun on me, he's either going to have to shoot me, or he might as well put it away. And if he shoots me, he'd be doing me a favor. I'm never so lucky. But to get to the point where you don't care what happens to you, I think one has to suffer enough to realize that pain and loss are only matters of degree, and when one has had enough pain and lost enough that matters, one can approach a state that might be called "fearless" - a state in which what might be at risk is either not worth pain, or so very much worth the cost of pain that the cost is not even considered.
  11. Cheese - I understand that the distress you experience when feelings of arousal link back to thoughts of your trauma make you want to cut off those feelings of arousal. I despise my own feelings of arousal for different reasons, but the principle is the same - the feelings cause me to experience a distressing set of thought processes, so I wish those feelings would disappear entirely. The problem is, they're not going to disappear. Those feelings of arousal are baked in to being human; they're part of you. Without them, you wouldn't be a human being. So struggling to try to eliminate them will a) fail to succeed as a means of dealing with the original trauma; and b) cause you additional mental distress because you're attempting to invalidate a natural, and functional, part of yourself as a biological entity. The solution, rather, is to work with a therapist to place the trauma into proper context and perspective with regard to your healthy sexuality. What happened to you was not a part of that healthy sexuality, which you can, and should, still have. The trauma must be viewed in isolation as a quite different and fundamentally unrelated kind of experience, because the intimate nature of the violation causes confusion in the mind between healthy and unhealthy associations. A therapist will be able to help you make the distinction between the two, and set up boundaries in your thinking that allow you to experience normal feelings of arousal without automatically associating them with negative events. It is probably going to take some hard work on your part - it seems a lot easier to just try to turn off the arousal and thus shut off the traumatic memory it conjures, but that actually doesn't resolve the underlying issue for you. It just hides it behind a curtain. I do hope you'll talk to someone about it, as difficult as that may be.
  12. Years ago, someone in my extended family had the notion of making a videotape of my family eating our Christmas dinner. The result was an incredibly tediously boring piece of footage, because it turns out that eating is one of the most uninteresting things humans do. It's little wonder that the act of it is underrepresented in cinema and television except where it's done in some exaggerated, excessive, or grotesque fashion. The only real use for dining in entertainment is as a stage for dialogue, which is ironic in that filling one's mouth is the one thing that gets in the way of talking. So even then, there's really only the suggestion of eating as a pretense for talking without moving around. Really, though, if you want to dive into deep, turbulent waters, it's not how Americans eat that's perplexing so much as what we eat...
  13. That settles it - abomination. A) You would still have to have two of them to hold down your food while you cut it, so what's the point? and B) It raises an entirely new conundrum as to whether the 'k' is silent, thereby causing more problems than it solves.
  14. My pdoc and I have determined that Effexor XR has no longer has any effect on me at the highest possible dose. So now, after more than a decade, I am no longer taking it. I am over two months through withdrawal now and past the worst of it, but nothing else I have ever taken laid a glove on my depression. Wellbutrin and Adderall are the only think keeping my nose above water now, but they've never been enough alone. We're going to wait another three months to clear out the rest of the withdrawal and reassess from there. Why has this happened now? Because everything else is all apocalyps-y out there, why the hell not?

    1. Show previous comments  3 more
    2. Wonderful.Cheese


      Oh no. I’m so sorry to hear this. That’s terrible. I’m not sure what all you’ve tried, but some meds work similarly to Effexor if you’ve not tried them before. Something to ask your pdoc about if you want to. Plus there are newbies on the block for AD’s and AAP’s too. I know many of us are treatment resistant here though. I hope you can find something that works just as well if not better. I went through Effexor withdrawals. Awful. I’m glad you are through the worst of it. 

    3. Cerberus


      My pdoc muttered something about maybe pristiq if the insurance will pay for it. The trouble for me is that most ADs target serotonin, and serotonin does not appear to be my problem. None of the SSRIs ever did diddly against my Double D.

    4. Blahblah


      Same here...Serotonin just numbs me out & makes me more anhedonic and tired. I hope they come out with a new antidepressant with more dopamine action. Seems they keep putting out slightly tweaked versions of SSRIs/SNRIs which don't help me much either 😞  I assume you've tried MAOIs with no luck? Vibryd I would try but they don't have it here.

  15. As an American with ambidexterity, I can attest that I give not a second thought to which hand I'm forking with at any given moment. It could be either one, depending on which hand I'm using to do something else. It's on a par with the question of whether one uses the fork with the tines pointing upward or downward as the food enters the mouth (a point that does not arise with spoons). And then there's the whole matter of runcible spoons, and whether they're a brilliant advance of modern progress or an abomination that strikes at the very heart of all that is civil and genteel. Why, incidentally, are we obliged to lump knives, forks and spoons equally under the term "cutlery"? Are not forks more accurately "pokelery", spoons "scooplery"? It seems the case that lumpers trounced splitters and then ran amok at some point in the past. The whole business of table settings, which utensils are expected to bed down with one another on which side of the plate and whatnot, has always struck me as a bit presumptuous and high-handed (as it were), although I suppose there must have been some sense to it all when it was first thought of. Take, for example, the custom of where one ought to place one's utensils at a restaurant to alert the staff that one has finished eating and the plate may be taken away: The utensils should be placed with the handles pointed away from the person at the 10 o'clock position, which is the furthest distance of reach for a right-handed diner. So much for the southpaws. It's always about accommodating the fricking majority, isn't it? [takes a deep breath, counts to ten to avoid going off on a rant about neurotypicals and autism]. Ahem. I think the more engaging question at any given moment is whether one ought more to be inclined to eat peas with a fork or with a spoon. It's a question akin, it seems to me, to asking a bearded man whether he sleeps with the sheet over or under his beard at night. (For the answer to this, observe Captain Haddock in The Adventures of Tintin: The Red Sea Sharks by Hergé.) I'm rambling, or possibly just going straight up doolally, but these are the End Times, so whatever.
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