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charlietheowl
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- Joined
- Sep 29, 2011
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I've only been a member of this forum for about three months, but if there's one thing that I've noticed it's that everyone here is supportive of their fellow posters and willing to hand out advice and sympathy. I thought, then, that this would be a place to discuss an issue that affects unfortunately more people than it should, and share stories and provide advice and support for each other.
A few months ago, I found myself dealing with the long-term effects of trying to suppress an anxiety problem and increasingly dissatisfied feelings about myself and my family situation. Everything worried me; interactions with my friends, the actions of my parents, even insignificant things at my summer job. However, I thought that if I ignored my problems, placed them out of mind, distracted myself with whatever, then that they wouldn't be problems. If I just didn't think about the things that worried me, pushed those feelings to the back of my mind, then everything would be all right. Acknowledge no evil, feel no evil. Didn't work. Finally, about four months ago, I reached a breaking point. Anxiety about an unstable family situation, fear of falling behind my friends in the academic world, fear of losing my friends after college, and confusion about my sexuality created a truly potent cocktail of depression. Going through everyday life began to hurt. I found myself putting on an act throughout my classes, my work, my social interactions, when all I wanted to do was pull away and hide in my bedroom. I thought that it was a sign of weakness to have these problems, and that everyone else dealt with their emotional problems on their own. No one could know I was hurting. What made me any different, I told myself. Why can't I handle my own business like everybody else? I began beating myself up over all of this, and consequently everything hurt more and more.
Eventually, I reached a breaking point, and began contemplating suicide. But since I had to live up to my classification as a Dean's List student, suicide was something I had to research first. What would be the best way to go about it? Couldn't half-bake it. So in something that seems wholly awful and terrifying now, I set out to Wikipedia, because where else do you go when you need information? Staring at a computer screen filled with information about suicide methods did end up giving the shock to the system that I needed to finally seek out help, because all of a sudden everything seemed more tangible. Gunshot wound, hanging, overdose, hypothermia, etc. If I did any of these things, it would all be over, finished, done, and all that lasts for a long time, which scared me. I realized that suicide wouldn't solve my problems, it would have merely shown that I couldn't adjust, that I couldn't deal with them. Plus, if I did kill myself, there would have been so much that I missed. Concerts, basketball games, parties, graduations, weddings, holidays, all that stuff. My friends and family would be devastated and I couldn't bear to be the reason for their pain and suffering. So I found myself with a renewed desire to live, but with the knowledge that I needed to get help for my issues. Despite my change of heart, I still needed the courage to talk to somebody, and it took a couple of days until I could even broach the subject that I needed help with my friends. I was afraid they would look at me funny, that they would find me a loon, a crazy they wouldn't want to associate with. But talking to them was one of the best things I've ever done. They gave me the support I needed and provided a sympathetic shoulder to lean on. I was able to express my fears, my worries, my pains on a level of complete trust and support where I knew I wasn't going to be judged at all. They also essentially forced me to go to the school's counseling center, which scared the bejeezus out of me at first.
I had visions of telling them I was thinking of killing myself, and then being taken out of the office by white-coated men and shoved into the back of a padded ambulance. But my ignorant notions of therapy and the counseling center proved to be untrue, as therapy proved to be a big help. I learned that it wasn't wrong, or weak, to not be able to solve your own problems, or to need a little help dealing with life. It didn't mean that I was any less of a person than I was before, or that I was somehow going to be marked as different. Through the help of my therapist, and the medication prescribed to me (which did not turn me into a zombie like I feared), I started on the path to recovery. I've realized that it's okay that I may not be going on the same path as all my friends; success has many different paths and I don't need to compare myself. I didn't need to be afraid to express my worries, because I discovered that a lot of people are going through the same anxieties and problems, even the friends who I thought had everything so perfectly together. Keeping everything hidden inside only causes more pain and anguish.
My battle with depression and anxiety has come with a price; I find my capacity for concentration on work to be much lower than before my problems cropped up, I find myself lacking self-confidence in many aspects of my life where I was once confident, and I'm a much needier person than before. However wounded I may be by this, I haven't lost the fight, and I'm not going to lose because I don't want to lose. That's why I started this thread, so that anyone on this forum who is dealing with the problems of depression and anxiety can have a place to share their fears, their worries, their struggles, and their good days and good moments as well, and can get friendly and sympathetic advice and encouragement in return. It's not easy; I've had many days where I feel just as lousy as I did before, but I've also had great moments, where all my worries and fears are gone and I can feel my smiles all the way down to the pit of my stomach. I wish that everyone dealing with this problem can have those tiny moments of relief and happiness, and I hope that we all can help each other in our own small ways.
Thank you for reading; I'm going to bed.
With regards and love,
your friend,
charlietheowl aka christopher
A few months ago, I found myself dealing with the long-term effects of trying to suppress an anxiety problem and increasingly dissatisfied feelings about myself and my family situation. Everything worried me; interactions with my friends, the actions of my parents, even insignificant things at my summer job. However, I thought that if I ignored my problems, placed them out of mind, distracted myself with whatever, then that they wouldn't be problems. If I just didn't think about the things that worried me, pushed those feelings to the back of my mind, then everything would be all right. Acknowledge no evil, feel no evil. Didn't work. Finally, about four months ago, I reached a breaking point. Anxiety about an unstable family situation, fear of falling behind my friends in the academic world, fear of losing my friends after college, and confusion about my sexuality created a truly potent cocktail of depression. Going through everyday life began to hurt. I found myself putting on an act throughout my classes, my work, my social interactions, when all I wanted to do was pull away and hide in my bedroom. I thought that it was a sign of weakness to have these problems, and that everyone else dealt with their emotional problems on their own. No one could know I was hurting. What made me any different, I told myself. Why can't I handle my own business like everybody else? I began beating myself up over all of this, and consequently everything hurt more and more.
Eventually, I reached a breaking point, and began contemplating suicide. But since I had to live up to my classification as a Dean's List student, suicide was something I had to research first. What would be the best way to go about it? Couldn't half-bake it. So in something that seems wholly awful and terrifying now, I set out to Wikipedia, because where else do you go when you need information? Staring at a computer screen filled with information about suicide methods did end up giving the shock to the system that I needed to finally seek out help, because all of a sudden everything seemed more tangible. Gunshot wound, hanging, overdose, hypothermia, etc. If I did any of these things, it would all be over, finished, done, and all that lasts for a long time, which scared me. I realized that suicide wouldn't solve my problems, it would have merely shown that I couldn't adjust, that I couldn't deal with them. Plus, if I did kill myself, there would have been so much that I missed. Concerts, basketball games, parties, graduations, weddings, holidays, all that stuff. My friends and family would be devastated and I couldn't bear to be the reason for their pain and suffering. So I found myself with a renewed desire to live, but with the knowledge that I needed to get help for my issues. Despite my change of heart, I still needed the courage to talk to somebody, and it took a couple of days until I could even broach the subject that I needed help with my friends. I was afraid they would look at me funny, that they would find me a loon, a crazy they wouldn't want to associate with. But talking to them was one of the best things I've ever done. They gave me the support I needed and provided a sympathetic shoulder to lean on. I was able to express my fears, my worries, my pains on a level of complete trust and support where I knew I wasn't going to be judged at all. They also essentially forced me to go to the school's counseling center, which scared the bejeezus out of me at first.
I had visions of telling them I was thinking of killing myself, and then being taken out of the office by white-coated men and shoved into the back of a padded ambulance. But my ignorant notions of therapy and the counseling center proved to be untrue, as therapy proved to be a big help. I learned that it wasn't wrong, or weak, to not be able to solve your own problems, or to need a little help dealing with life. It didn't mean that I was any less of a person than I was before, or that I was somehow going to be marked as different. Through the help of my therapist, and the medication prescribed to me (which did not turn me into a zombie like I feared), I started on the path to recovery. I've realized that it's okay that I may not be going on the same path as all my friends; success has many different paths and I don't need to compare myself. I didn't need to be afraid to express my worries, because I discovered that a lot of people are going through the same anxieties and problems, even the friends who I thought had everything so perfectly together. Keeping everything hidden inside only causes more pain and anguish.
My battle with depression and anxiety has come with a price; I find my capacity for concentration on work to be much lower than before my problems cropped up, I find myself lacking self-confidence in many aspects of my life where I was once confident, and I'm a much needier person than before. However wounded I may be by this, I haven't lost the fight, and I'm not going to lose because I don't want to lose. That's why I started this thread, so that anyone on this forum who is dealing with the problems of depression and anxiety can have a place to share their fears, their worries, their struggles, and their good days and good moments as well, and can get friendly and sympathetic advice and encouragement in return. It's not easy; I've had many days where I feel just as lousy as I did before, but I've also had great moments, where all my worries and fears are gone and I can feel my smiles all the way down to the pit of my stomach. I wish that everyone dealing with this problem can have those tiny moments of relief and happiness, and I hope that we all can help each other in our own small ways.
Thank you for reading; I'm going to bed.
With regards and love,
your friend,
charlietheowl aka christopher
