Warning: Please do not talk about therapists, if there was money - I would go, and in my country, a free psychotherapist has died out. It will be along Jaunt, so if you are not ready to read a lot, then do not start. And English is my second language, so don’t really scold me.
If you need a short version, go to the words "Hello once again" down below.
Hello.
I recently turned 21 years old. Two years ago, I left college to write something. I know that sounds like idiocy. Well, that was idiocy. At the moment I am returning to this college to the correspondence department (not of my own free will).
So, let me better start over. Another warning: this is confession, and it will be LONG.
As a child, I was a very emotional child. I cried a lot, laughed even more. I was afraid of the dark, fell asleep with the lights on. There were a few friends. The library became the second home, but I did not read anything serious, all humorous or childish fantasy.
I think I stopped crying at the age of 14 or 15. Although, I think there were a couple more incidents with crying, not as many as before. There are practically no friends, only one acquaintance. Girls too (I think this is even for the best, I was just a child). In 8-9 grade, I liked one, but, of course, there was nothing. We just talked at the lessons, fortunately, she was friendly.
All these years there have been big problems with procrastination and initiative. I began all extracurricular activities with the submission of the mother. I played the pipe - for 10 years (one of my biggest mistakes), went to sports clubs, dropped everything after two months (which I do not regret). From the age of 13, I constantly wanted to learn something and do something, but I never started. As a result: lazy and uninitiated.
Now about a little more depressing. In the seventh grade, I spent a month at home watching the animated series (Spider-Man). Perhaps because I was offended at school. The teachers thought of me too well, so that they did not look for me MONTH (this is a reputation, huh? I mean good kind of reputation, ofcourse.) When my mother was at home, I went to the library so that she thought I was in the classroom. When she found out, I panicked and left, escaping ... to the old cemetery. I thought that she wouldn't look for me there. I was afraid of my mother, it was a shame. I tried to open the veins, but, you guessed it, it did not work.
Night, a cemetery outside the city, I'm sitting at the table. I get up and see how someone is walking towards me through the graves. The fence was low, so I flew over it like a horse. I stumble around the city and came to my grandmother. After there was a showdown, but there was almost no punishment. After that, regular lateness and absenteeism began. After school, I went to the institute.
I didn’t have a place at the institute, because it was technical, but I was a humanitarian and I have a bad time in the hostel, because I was uncomfortable there. I began to skip technical drawing, because of shaking hands and afterward I stopped going to all of the classes.
For a loner, it was very bad to live in a hostel. I remember how I corresponded with my mother on the Internet and ended the conversation when she suggested using a laptop camera. I finished it because there were five more boys in the room and I could not ask them to leave or shut up. I had to go outside, so as not to sob right there. I remember that I bought chocolate and ate it, crying softly... It was not hell, I have pleasant memories of him. But it was REALLY hard for me After 4 months, I stopped going to class. There was an unpleasant incident and I ran away again. Three days on the street in winter and attempt of suicide. Spent the nights in round-the-clock departments of banks. When the money ran out, I came to the hostel. My mother was already there .There was a much bigger scandal, with tears and screams. She gave me six months of rest before pushing me into college. A year later, I left there, slammed away from the army through a psychiatric hospital (my mother still thinks that they did not take me because of convulsions). And now we are back to the main topic.
If you have read up to this point, then I admire your perseverance and apologize for this stream of thoughts. Wait a little longer.
Mother. In short - she does not care. If I would kill myself, she would be reliefed. I feel to her something between hatred (how can you know almost nothing about children if you had two, I’m the third), anger (why you didn’t help me), indifference (I don’t need you) and understanding (She also had a hard life, if she didn’t help herself, how could she help me). I can’t hope for her.
I am creative, I love (now loved) to read. I did not write until recently. I have big problems. Procrastination. Depression. A year ago there was a period when I felt almost nothing (depersonalization). Dementia And recently, I began to compress objects because of anger . This is the first time I am writing on this kind of site. You know the motto of the creative thinkers - Fail Faster. This morning I couldn’t install the game (I sometimes want to relax, despair tires me, you know.) Because of this, I lay staring at the monitor, looking at what I was not even interested in, 4 hours. I'm tired. Very, very, very tired. But I'm not suicidal, it is not a cry for help. But I need an interlocutor. Partner. Need a company. Those who went through this, and who can advise something - you too can help me. If someone feels that talking once a day won't hurt him, great. If someone can relate all of the above to themselves and know how to deal with it, I carefully listening to you.I will very much appreciate the advice of the men that knows how to Fail Faster. Well, thanks for your time.
Hello once again. I will try to be a little less vague about my problems. Right now I am working on something creative. But, to do something creative you need to accept advice Fail Faster. And every fail, small and big, slow me down and make me stop my work, and do nothing. I feel like a man with burns trying to go through the forest. I am tired and I need advice and/or interlocutor.
P.S. I’m not always online, but I’ll try to be in the next couple of hours. So don't think, that I am rude if I don't answer your message.
I am feeling anxiety and depression
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I am so tired of sadness ruining my relationships
Who can I trust when I am depressed?
