I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE

[phatcatholic]

G,

Ash Wed.'s post was excellent, and i second everything she said. along with the questions she raised, i would also like to know why it would make it worse to talk to someone. help us understand so that we can help you.

it is my philosophy that when it comes to severe depression, a balance of medication and counseling is necessary to overcome. one w/o the other is usually not enough. i would encourage you to pursue both of these options. afterall, if you feel you have indeed hit rock bottom, then things can only get better. also, if you feel like you have no life left to live, then you have nothing to lose. you might as well try it and see.

the bottom line is this: nothing improves if you give up. you want to get better right? you want to feel sane again, right? well then you have to go on. as long as you continue to try, then the possibility exists for improvement. but, as soon as you give up, you close the door to things every getting better. so, the key is to keep on breathing.

i'm not asking for major strides, or a new outlook on life, or all kinds of work on your mental health. just keep breathing. that's all i ask. as long as you do that, you allow yourself to improve and to even be happy again one day. more importantly, you allow God to finish the good work he has begun in you (Phil 1:6).

i have a master's degree in counseling, and have likewise had my own very real and debilitating battles with both depression and anxiety. if you would like to talk, please feel free.

AOL: YourFavoriteTwin
MSN: nickhardesty@hotmail.com
Yahoo: phatcatholic

Pax Christi,
Nick

[Cathurian]

I know how bad bullying can get. I was bullied for two years in middle school, to the point my nails stopped growing. I thought I was going to keel over dead any second just from the stress.

I wished I'd have a heart attack and die, so people would feel bad about what they did and it wouldn't happen to anyone else. I wished I'd get deathly ill if it would keep me from school.

One time someone apologized for bumping into me. I burst into tears because I was so shocked and moved, no joke.

People thought I was exaggerating when I told them how often things were thrown at me. So one period, I counted exactly how many times I got hit. In a 55 minute period, I got hit with 52 things. That's almost one hit a minute. You could always see a little pile of debris around wherever I had been sitting once the bell rang.

I learned to speed up and get out of there quickly every time I heard names being called. Cause, see, whenever someone's calling for someone, the people involved start looking around, right? And when people look around, they scan the whole crowd, which has me in it, right? Having someone call for someone else was a sign to get out of there -- FAST -- because people are now looking around and will see you.

One time when I was using the bathroom someone kicked the door in on me. It hit my head pretty hard, and people were trying to stare at me with my pants down, while I ended up urinating all over everything. It was terrible.

People would surround me in a circle, and the person facing my back would hit me. If I turned to stop them, the person facing my back then would hit me. The result was that I would spin round and round, like a crazed animal, screaming and helpless and being battered, while those not in the circle would gather around and shout obscenities at me and cheer on those who hit me. There was applause and excitement. One of the worst memories of my life.

No one would let me sit down on the bus with them. I had to run from one end of the school to the other and get in an empty seat first, or I'd have to stand up the whole way, while people cursed at me and threw things. I learned this the hard way.

And while I was standing up, one boy allowed me to keep my hand on his seat to steady myself, instead of prying it away in disgust -- on one condition -- that he use that hand to practice flipping rubber bands at. He'd pull it almost to the breaking point, let it go, and then smirk when I winced at the pain. Know what I thought about this? I thought, "Thank you boy. You've given me such a great mercy, by letting me keep my hand here. I know why you hit me. If you didn't, the others would think you had pity on me, and would tease you too. And you don't deserve that, oh no, not for such a kind gesture. Thank you boy, for allowing me to put my hand here for just a small and necessary price." It turned my stomach later, when I realised how disgustingly broken and servile this thought was.

Sorry if that was a bit too much about "ME ME ME", but I just wanted you to know that when I say I've been through this too, I really have. and I can definitely tell you what NOT to do -- what I turned to before I knew God -- and I can listen and offer empathy, if that's what you need. I don't know what it is they're doing to you, G-Freak, but I know it must be utterly awful, that you're looking into some real depths of human depravity, and that it's nothing to make light of. You can tell me whatever you want and I'll listen.

Oh, and one more thing: pray for their repentance. Cause some of the most powerful words Jesus ever said were..."Forgive them, Father, they know not what they do." Even though it may seem they know what they're doing, they don't. They don't know how deeply they are hurting a fellow human being; they can't see past themselves. Pray their eyes will be opened.

My contacts:

AIM: Fharlanghnamaste
MSN: vatesudunis@hotmail.com
Yahoo: thanatopsisazraelis
ICQ: 303777842
Email: sithis@operamail.com

Feel free to PM me also. God bless!