Styg
Get to the next screen
- Nov 11, 2023
- 14
Hey guys,
I've been lurking on the forums for a little while now, but today I thought I might as well make an account and start interacting with folks on here. I've read quite a few stories, and I just want to say I'm so sorry for the suffering you guys are experiencing. No one deserves to struggle with such anguish on a daily basis, and I sincerely hope that each and everyone one of us is able to find peace in some way.
I suppose that brings me to my own story. I would never hope to try and compare my suffering to that of others, as I feel that it is cruel and disingenuous, and creating a competition out of pain is ultimately just harmful for all those involved. In saying that, I'd like to offer up some of my own experiences for others to engage with; perhaps my words might resonate with some of you.
I'm a young man, only in my very early twenties, yet I feel as if I will never get to experience the true joys of a fulfilling life. My whole time on this earth, I've been haunted by a spectre of inescapable despair; a lingering feeling that I will never truly find happiness. Even when I was young, I was plagued by depression. I remember crying a lot in my early years. During that time, I wasn't really able to fit in with other kids; I always thought they despised my presence, and didn't want me around. Simultaneously, home provided little respite, as my mum and dad were in a very dysfunctional relationship that involved physical and mental abuse, and my sister and I often got caught in the crossfire. This led to significant trauma that continues to affect me to this day. As a result, I immersed myself in escapist distractions to get me away from those thoughts. Video games, books, movies, TV shows, and music became valuable sanctuaries that took me away from the agony of life, and my love of these distractions has persisted ever since.
For much of my early life, happiness was a fleeting affair. There were moments where I was able to feel a glimmer of contentment, but these times were soon overshadowed by continuously bad days. As I grew older, I struggled with many difficulties of self-worth. I hated how I looked; I thought I was fat, ugly, and disgusting. I hated how I acted, and I constantly second-guessed every interaction that I had with people. I thought I was dumb and inferior to all other people around me, even though I did quite well in school. The one good thing I liked about myself was that I was able to make people laugh, even if it was often at my own expense. Needless to say, I dealt with some severe depression and anxiety. I have always had passive suicidal ideations, and I thought it would be better if I simply did not exist anymore. I eventually opened up to my mum about some of these issues (though I would never reveal the true severity, of course), and she influenced me to try therapy. I found this experience to be quite unhelpful. I wasn't getting much out of the sessions, and it felt like my therapist wasn't listening to me at all. I tried to implement some of his recommendations into my life, I truly did, but there wasn't much improvement. In my country, a certain number of counselling sessions are covered by the government, meaning you don't have to pay. I eventually ran out of these sessions, and my therapist informed my mum that we would start having to pay. Being young and not possessing a job at the time, I realised just how expensive these continued sessions would be, and I didn't want to force my single mother to have to pay for it, considering she was already struggling to pay for everything else. As a result, I told my therapist that he had improved me greatly, and that I was ready to stop the sessions. He was suspicious, but he ultimately relented and we went our separate ways. After this point, the depression continued to endure within me. It seemed that every time I tried to improve myself, every time I tried to be happy, something would happen that would ruin me and make me feel worse. This was a running trend in my life.
In high school, I fell in with a crowd of people that, in retrospect, were not truly my friends, and being around them only harmed me in the long run. I tried everything to impress them, so that I could gain their approval, but I realise now that I was only a source of entertainment for them, someone they could laugh at and make fun of. They were into drugs, and I too succumbed to the allure of substances in order to fit in. Alcohol, weed, MDMA, ketamine, cocaine, and mushrooms were used frequently. They served as a way to keep myself present in that friendship circle, but they allowed dulled the pain I felt, and helped me push away the trauma. MDMA and cocaine in particular were favourites of mine: they made me feel like a completely different person; someone that was happy, confident, and likeable, which was so unlike the sober me. During this time, I was desperate to attend any party that I could, to feel like I was popular and wanted. When we went out, we did a lot of stupid shut and got into trouble, but I revelled in it. It made me feel alive, as dumb as that sounds. Going out with those friends, I knew that they hated me, and that they talked shit behind my back, but I didn't care. I was doing enough drugs to numb any of those concerns.
Even though I did drugs practically every weekend, I was still a high-achieving student. I got good marks in all my assignments, and I worked hard. As a year group, we got fucked over pretty hard by covid, and we had to miss most of our final year because of it. This time was rough for me, as though I stopped using drugs because I was unable to see my 'friends', covid reinforced some other harmful habits. I stayed at home and played games all day, and ate like shit, which caused me to put on more weight as a result. I remember feeling so lonely every day, and I spent much of the day simply lying in bed, crying as I listened to some song or another. At the time, my mum started dating a new man who turned out to be just as bad as my father. He was a severe alcoholic, and despite his problems, my mum would often side with him against my sister and I. That hurt me deeply, as I had previously seen my mum as my closest ally, but this proved that her love for me was conditional. Even so, I put up with the strife in our relationship; I pushed past all the drama with her in order to complete high school.
The lockdowns ended, and I eventually graduated high school. I did quite well, and I was able to get into a double degree at a prestigious university in my city. I was the only one in my friend group to do so, the rest of them picked up trades or other such jobs (which I don't have a problem with mind you, I just wanted to show how our paths deviated greatly). The first couple years in university were a struggle. Academically I was very stressed, and I found it difficult to make friends in this new environment. I felt like an outsider in this new setting, and it was clear in my interactions with others that I had a very different upbringing compared to most of the people I met. Yet, after some time, things started to improve. I started to make friends; real, actual friends. I felt like they cared about me beyond the superficiality of my previous relationships, and I cared about them in return. I stopped using drugs, and at the same time, I started to work out a lot, and I drastically changed my diet. I lost a significant amount of weight in a short amount of time, and I soon looked like a completely different person. I felt like a new person too: I was confident in myself, and I began to overcome the persistent depression and anxiety that had plagued me for many years. I had even started getting romantically involved with someone for the first time beyond a casual one night stand; a fact that was very satisfying to me. For a while, it looked like my life was looking up: everything was going so, so well, and I genuinely felt happy.
That soon changed. I won't go into detail here because it's still very raw to me, but a couple months ago, I started experiencing a brutal pain. It is a horrible burning and stabbing pain in my ears, and it is only continuing to worsen as time goes on. Doctors are unable to provide any help with my condition, and they are overall just baffled at what it could be. I think I know what it is; it is an incredibly rare thing, but all the symptoms match up with what I have. It doesn't look like it will get better, and it will reduce me to a shell of a man in time. Currently I am unable to do anything that I once enjoyed; all my escapist distractions provide no relief, and I can't even see my friends. I have to lock myself away in the silence of my room to find any semblance of peace, and even then I am still in agony. My family doesn't understand it, and they think I am crazy from how I have been acting. They don't get the pain, and I cannot explain it to them. As it stands, I will likely have to drop out of uni, as well as quit my job. Painkillers do very little to help me, and I am unable to function properly with this condition. Life is so very cruel. Just when I thought I would finally find true happiness, everything has to come crashing down around me. I feel as if I am living a nightmare that I cannot wake up from. I desperately want to live, to see where my life goes, but with this pain showing no signs of halting, I feel as if there is only one outcome available to me. I do not wish to be burden on my family, I do not want them to suffer because of me. Perhaps, in the end, this was always my fated outcome. We shall see.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know I've been rambling a lot, but I've been so delirious with pain that it helps me to get my words out on the page. I hope that whoever you are, you're able to find some small measure of happiness in this unforgiving world of ours. I do not know you, and I know it is likely that we may never meet, but I still wish you the very best in whatever you're going through. If I could lend you my strength to fight the war you face, I would do so in an instant. Good luck out there.
I've been lurking on the forums for a little while now, but today I thought I might as well make an account and start interacting with folks on here. I've read quite a few stories, and I just want to say I'm so sorry for the suffering you guys are experiencing. No one deserves to struggle with such anguish on a daily basis, and I sincerely hope that each and everyone one of us is able to find peace in some way.
I suppose that brings me to my own story. I would never hope to try and compare my suffering to that of others, as I feel that it is cruel and disingenuous, and creating a competition out of pain is ultimately just harmful for all those involved. In saying that, I'd like to offer up some of my own experiences for others to engage with; perhaps my words might resonate with some of you.
I'm a young man, only in my very early twenties, yet I feel as if I will never get to experience the true joys of a fulfilling life. My whole time on this earth, I've been haunted by a spectre of inescapable despair; a lingering feeling that I will never truly find happiness. Even when I was young, I was plagued by depression. I remember crying a lot in my early years. During that time, I wasn't really able to fit in with other kids; I always thought they despised my presence, and didn't want me around. Simultaneously, home provided little respite, as my mum and dad were in a very dysfunctional relationship that involved physical and mental abuse, and my sister and I often got caught in the crossfire. This led to significant trauma that continues to affect me to this day. As a result, I immersed myself in escapist distractions to get me away from those thoughts. Video games, books, movies, TV shows, and music became valuable sanctuaries that took me away from the agony of life, and my love of these distractions has persisted ever since.
For much of my early life, happiness was a fleeting affair. There were moments where I was able to feel a glimmer of contentment, but these times were soon overshadowed by continuously bad days. As I grew older, I struggled with many difficulties of self-worth. I hated how I looked; I thought I was fat, ugly, and disgusting. I hated how I acted, and I constantly second-guessed every interaction that I had with people. I thought I was dumb and inferior to all other people around me, even though I did quite well in school. The one good thing I liked about myself was that I was able to make people laugh, even if it was often at my own expense. Needless to say, I dealt with some severe depression and anxiety. I have always had passive suicidal ideations, and I thought it would be better if I simply did not exist anymore. I eventually opened up to my mum about some of these issues (though I would never reveal the true severity, of course), and she influenced me to try therapy. I found this experience to be quite unhelpful. I wasn't getting much out of the sessions, and it felt like my therapist wasn't listening to me at all. I tried to implement some of his recommendations into my life, I truly did, but there wasn't much improvement. In my country, a certain number of counselling sessions are covered by the government, meaning you don't have to pay. I eventually ran out of these sessions, and my therapist informed my mum that we would start having to pay. Being young and not possessing a job at the time, I realised just how expensive these continued sessions would be, and I didn't want to force my single mother to have to pay for it, considering she was already struggling to pay for everything else. As a result, I told my therapist that he had improved me greatly, and that I was ready to stop the sessions. He was suspicious, but he ultimately relented and we went our separate ways. After this point, the depression continued to endure within me. It seemed that every time I tried to improve myself, every time I tried to be happy, something would happen that would ruin me and make me feel worse. This was a running trend in my life.
In high school, I fell in with a crowd of people that, in retrospect, were not truly my friends, and being around them only harmed me in the long run. I tried everything to impress them, so that I could gain their approval, but I realise now that I was only a source of entertainment for them, someone they could laugh at and make fun of. They were into drugs, and I too succumbed to the allure of substances in order to fit in. Alcohol, weed, MDMA, ketamine, cocaine, and mushrooms were used frequently. They served as a way to keep myself present in that friendship circle, but they allowed dulled the pain I felt, and helped me push away the trauma. MDMA and cocaine in particular were favourites of mine: they made me feel like a completely different person; someone that was happy, confident, and likeable, which was so unlike the sober me. During this time, I was desperate to attend any party that I could, to feel like I was popular and wanted. When we went out, we did a lot of stupid shut and got into trouble, but I revelled in it. It made me feel alive, as dumb as that sounds. Going out with those friends, I knew that they hated me, and that they talked shit behind my back, but I didn't care. I was doing enough drugs to numb any of those concerns.
Even though I did drugs practically every weekend, I was still a high-achieving student. I got good marks in all my assignments, and I worked hard. As a year group, we got fucked over pretty hard by covid, and we had to miss most of our final year because of it. This time was rough for me, as though I stopped using drugs because I was unable to see my 'friends', covid reinforced some other harmful habits. I stayed at home and played games all day, and ate like shit, which caused me to put on more weight as a result. I remember feeling so lonely every day, and I spent much of the day simply lying in bed, crying as I listened to some song or another. At the time, my mum started dating a new man who turned out to be just as bad as my father. He was a severe alcoholic, and despite his problems, my mum would often side with him against my sister and I. That hurt me deeply, as I had previously seen my mum as my closest ally, but this proved that her love for me was conditional. Even so, I put up with the strife in our relationship; I pushed past all the drama with her in order to complete high school.
The lockdowns ended, and I eventually graduated high school. I did quite well, and I was able to get into a double degree at a prestigious university in my city. I was the only one in my friend group to do so, the rest of them picked up trades or other such jobs (which I don't have a problem with mind you, I just wanted to show how our paths deviated greatly). The first couple years in university were a struggle. Academically I was very stressed, and I found it difficult to make friends in this new environment. I felt like an outsider in this new setting, and it was clear in my interactions with others that I had a very different upbringing compared to most of the people I met. Yet, after some time, things started to improve. I started to make friends; real, actual friends. I felt like they cared about me beyond the superficiality of my previous relationships, and I cared about them in return. I stopped using drugs, and at the same time, I started to work out a lot, and I drastically changed my diet. I lost a significant amount of weight in a short amount of time, and I soon looked like a completely different person. I felt like a new person too: I was confident in myself, and I began to overcome the persistent depression and anxiety that had plagued me for many years. I had even started getting romantically involved with someone for the first time beyond a casual one night stand; a fact that was very satisfying to me. For a while, it looked like my life was looking up: everything was going so, so well, and I genuinely felt happy.
That soon changed. I won't go into detail here because it's still very raw to me, but a couple months ago, I started experiencing a brutal pain. It is a horrible burning and stabbing pain in my ears, and it is only continuing to worsen as time goes on. Doctors are unable to provide any help with my condition, and they are overall just baffled at what it could be. I think I know what it is; it is an incredibly rare thing, but all the symptoms match up with what I have. It doesn't look like it will get better, and it will reduce me to a shell of a man in time. Currently I am unable to do anything that I once enjoyed; all my escapist distractions provide no relief, and I can't even see my friends. I have to lock myself away in the silence of my room to find any semblance of peace, and even then I am still in agony. My family doesn't understand it, and they think I am crazy from how I have been acting. They don't get the pain, and I cannot explain it to them. As it stands, I will likely have to drop out of uni, as well as quit my job. Painkillers do very little to help me, and I am unable to function properly with this condition. Life is so very cruel. Just when I thought I would finally find true happiness, everything has to come crashing down around me. I feel as if I am living a nightmare that I cannot wake up from. I desperately want to live, to see where my life goes, but with this pain showing no signs of halting, I feel as if there is only one outcome available to me. I do not wish to be burden on my family, I do not want them to suffer because of me. Perhaps, in the end, this was always my fated outcome. We shall see.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know I've been rambling a lot, but I've been so delirious with pain that it helps me to get my words out on the page. I hope that whoever you are, you're able to find some small measure of happiness in this unforgiving world of ours. I do not know you, and I know it is likely that we may never meet, but I still wish you the very best in whatever you're going through. If I could lend you my strength to fight the war you face, I would do so in an instant. Good luck out there.
