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censer

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  1. I literally cannot remember the last time a good or positive thing happened to me. I can literally not remember the last time a single person spoke intimately with me about anything positive or good. I can literally not remember, at all, the last time I trusted a person, was legitimately happy, or was, for all intents and purposes, anything other than hopelessly fucking depressed. If you still think there is hope, you are a fucking idiot. Why are there 90 options to set my gender to a bunch of bullshit that doesn't exist, but no option to delete my fucking account? How the fuck do I delete
  2. So in case you didn't read my post, which you obviously didn't, I have no family or friends. There is nobody, NOBODY, to miss me. But anyway, I went to my doctor today. My psychopharmacologist. You know, the one that charges $460/hr, in no way accepts insurance (so no overheard or costs beyond the usual for running an office), and then probably uses the . I am tempted to leave her name and location just so that you can all know not to go to her ever. She constantly runs over time, which sounds like it should be a good thing, except today, as usual for the medical industry, she promises me
  3. So I get either locked up or doped up and I miss work, and I get to be surrounded by cold, uncaring hospital staff who have 15 other more important people to attend to -- nobody comes to my side because I have no friends or family, so I'm totally alone in a cold hospital -- and then nothing actually gets better. It's not like they're going to help me directly. And then I get slapped with a 50 thousand dollar medical bill (but don't worry, insurance might cover it. Maybe.) because I laid in a bed for a couple hours and they drugged me up, and then I get diagnosed with something-or-other -- whic
  4. It's been a long 27 years, but I just don't think I can do it anymore. There's nothing more to say really. A while ago, I set a deadline: I said by the time I hit 30, if my life wasn't looking any better, I was going to kill myself. I think I need to move that deadline up. It's always pretty funny to me just how little people truly care. You don't. You just don't. Nobody does. Nobody ever will. Death is the correct solution. You can say whatever you want but you are wrong. You do not understand me, you cannot possibly understand me, the only thing that remains in this world, that could be bene
  5. I see. I did do regular therapy for about three years, and it sure helped me figure out the "why"s...but never the pragmatic approach to getting better. I think you are right, and I think DBT is probably what I need. I think maybe I just have to re-work up to it again...
  6. If that means "therapist", then no, just my psychopharmacologist. I probably should get a therapist again...do you suspect it is something different than what I think?
  7. I actually just started medication again after a long time of not being on it. I'm on Xanax 0.5mg, twice a day and then as needed for breakthrough anxiety. Then I just started Vyvanse 40mg for ADHD. Both of those I know work at least to some extent from the past. Then I started Vraylar, which is not something I've taken before -- actually, I've never taken anything from that class at all before. But this was all barely a week ago, so I don't think it's the Vraylar at least. I've been speculating my anxiety is part of my brain repressing emotions, and since I started the Xanax I've been a lot m
  8. I have come to the conclusion over many years, that my anxiety (which is getting exponentially worse) is actually my body's way of coping by repressing all the feelings I should be feeling. I finally got back to my doctor and started taking Xanax, and almost immediately I am now crying all the time at all sorts of things. Not things that don't make sense -- things that should make me cry -- but I'm crying a real, true cry, unlike the "I want to cry but can't" that I've been experiencing for so long. I get the impression this has confirmed my theory, that the anxiety is pretty intense, and is m
  9. I'm not sure if I'm doing a good job describing this, but...there is an obvious disconnect, and it's clear to me that my anxiety and other issues are, more or less, a huge coping mechanism designed to help me block & suppress the not-insignificant amount of trauma I have experienced throughout my life. While I am working through psychiatry and therapy, are there any books that you have read, that are written from a professional and pragmatic viewpoint (but still hopefully with some empathy), that can help one learn what it means to feel and to get in touch with what it means to be con
  10. Thank you all for the good advice. I went ahead and called my previous psychiatrists and tried to get lists of my meds. I only managed to talk to 1 out of 3, and it was a terrible experience. I honestly got the impression from the call that she may not even be a real doctor, or is otherwise trying to cover something up, because she started acting super sketchy as soon as I asked if I could get a history of some sort. She said "call me next week" (which is too late anyway for my first visit), and then she immediately hung up without saying bye...but anyway... #2 just rang forever, no machine, a
  11. Sorry for the vague thread title, but it's so hard to find accurate information on what, specifically, having depersonalization, derealization, or dissociation actually feels like to the person. A lot of times, I think I feel disconnected from my body. However, I don't feel any of the things I see listed online. It feels like I am just my brain in my head, and not that I am also my body, if you get what I mean. Like...I get that this arm is mine, in that it's a part of my body...but when I look at it, it's just an arm -- it's not MY arm. Does this make any sense? I feel like people look a
  12. Oh, I remember Lamictal. I did get the rash! Lol, so there's one. I get what you guys are saying...thanks for the advice, I guess I will start doing that. I feel like a fucking idiot. I'm normally so smart and prepared in other areas. I guess it's possible I am sabotaging myself on purpose, although I wasn't aware it was in this way. Also, that thread was really useful, mostly because somewhere in there someone (not sure if it was you) mentioned I might be able to call my old doctors and get a record. Maybe I could try that, I still have two days.
  13. I have to ask...is writing down my medications and stuff something I was supposed to be doing this whole time? Cause they always ask...and I honestly don't know. I think part of my thing is I have some really bad issues with memory. I guess I was just stupid for never writing them down, but I guess that's what most people do? I mean like, if she says the name of a medication I might remember it, but I don't remember why I stopped taking each one other than they were all shit...lol I don't know why to me, it just seems really weird that people keep track of that. I have no idea why...maybe
  14. I have another thread posted if you would like a detailed review of my history, but in short, I've been to a shit ton of psychiatrists, and one major therapist (+ DBT for a brief period of time which I had accountability issues with on my part). I am very jaded by being put on every medication in the world, nothing helping, and therapy teaching me all about why all my problems exist, but never getting me in touch with them or helping me cope. Still, nobody has any idea what's really wrong with me, but there is clearly something very wrong that has gone from "kind of interfering with my life" t
  15. Thank you. Your conclusions are likely the same as mine. Today at work someone essentially called me "half a person" and I lost it. Then later on someone did something selfish and I couldn't take it. I don't understand how I did not get in trouble because I just started yelling for 5 or 10 minutes about stupid lazy selfish fucks ruining the fucking world and how every idiot should be culled and so on. I think this darkness is finally starting to crawl into my work life, which is the only thing I have left to hold on to. At this point I do consider that I have no friends, family, or suppor
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