I think I’m depressed.
I just discovered this site, and have spent a while reading.
I feel like I just have to write things down now, getting it of my chest, before I do what I always do, abandoning my post and going back to lurking.
Not terribly edited, mostly written in a hurry.
I’m currently 27 years old, and working in technology. I’ve always been extremely interested in computers, so it seemed like a natural path to take.
I’ve always (as in, most of my life) been extremely shy. I don’t really remember when it started, but I remember a few years when I was younger (before I started in school) when I had no problems talking to people. Now it’s almost impossible. I play out conversations in my head, rehearsing everything in my head, and then making a mess of it when the conversation surprisingly doesn’t go according to my script. For some reason, the phone is the absolute worst. Picking up the phone and calling someone fills me with dread, and I would pretty much do anything to avoid it. Answering when someone calls is OK for the select few friends and family that do call, anyone else is likely to be ignored (“oh, sorry, I didn’t notice the phone”).
I’ve been in therapy a little bit, mostly for my social anxiety.
First time I was “forced” by my girlfriend, who had managed to “trick” me into sharing, and figured out I was feeling depressed.
I had a few sessions, just enough to start to get comfortable with the guy, which takes me a lot of time.
We hadn’t really gotten anywhere yet. As mentioned I’m not quick to trust others. And I’m “trained”, as so many others, to view needing therapy as a weakness, and feeling like a failure because I needed it. This made me feel that if this didn’t cure me soon, it was a waste of time, and money, and I would really like to avoid anyone finding out about it.
After a while, they did some rearranging and it was apparently decided I should see another therapist. Don’t remember if mine was moved, or just got a different set of patients. Their way of informing me was a phone call (researching the patient they wanted to reach was apparently too much work). I didn’t answer, but listened to the voice mail. Decided I didn’t want to start all over with another person I didn’t know. It takes me a very long time to start being comfortable around someone new. I eventually picked up the phone and called them back, informing them that I did not want to continue with another therapist.
This was probably not my best idea ever, but it felt like the only option at the time, as I was paying for it out of my own pocket. Without wanting to involve my family it was hard to manage as a teenager still in school without a steady income. Luckily I don’t live in the US, so the fees weren’t too high, and the state picks up the bill after reaching a certain limit in a year. I managed to make it work somehow.
After that I was OK for a while. I finished the mandatory school (which wasn’t all that interesting) and started another, this one aimed at finally giving me the computer techology skills I needed, or at least wanted the papers saying I could, so I could find a decent paying job eventually. This course went on for three years, but due to my untreated social anxiety, I didn’t make any friends, and was pretty lonely all the way through school. Sometime through these years, I tried to kill myself.
I can’t recall exactly when it happened. I guess around the end of 2008, beginning of 2009. I had been feeling down for a while.
Eventually I decided it wasn’t really any point in going on, so I started planning. And researching.
A failed attempt is my worst nightmare, so I did a lot of research on methods. Since guns are hard to come by here, as well as usable drugs, I eventually settled on hanging. Ideally I wanted a place where I could jump off, making sure the neck broke, so there was no chance of being found in time. I found a suitable spot, bought a rope, and practiced making the proper knot. I started deleting every digital track of my existence, and made a script I could trigger that would silently shred everything on any of my computers. All my projects, everything I had made for school, photos, movies, everything. I was still afraid of deciding not to go through with it, so I didn’t run the script. That was to be triggered from my phone, right before I jumped.
I couldn’t decide on a time, and I was terrified of being discovered, so eventually I figured I could just do it in the garage instead.
I went out, tied my rope to a beam in the ceiling, went up on a stool, and put the noose around my head. Stood there for a minute or two.
I think I knew, deep down, that I didn’t really expect to go through with it, as I had still not trigged my delete-everything script.
I kicked away the stool, and started choking. A few seconds passed, and it started to get hard to breathe.
And that is when my lizard brain kicked in. I can’t even recall it happening, but suddenly I had managed to pull myself up enough to grab the beam, and got the noose off.
I dropped to the ground, and felt euphoric. Went around a few days on a strange high, all the while trying my best to cover up my neck, which had gotten quite the distinctive bruising.
As this was in the winter, wearing a scarf most of the time wasn’t questioned, luckily.
I’ve though about suicide a few times since then, but not really getting anywhere close to doing anything about it.
I have a few periods from time to time where I barely have the energy to get out of bed.
I work from home, and we live quite remotely, so sometimes when my girlfriend is at work, I don’t see another person for a day.
And I don’t really wanna talk about these things with her, as she’ll only worry. I know I probably should, but it’s not easy to get started. Admitting I still have a problem is hard.
My “episodes” are coming and going without any pattern I’ve noticed. It helps to not be entirely alone, but it’s not a sure-fire way to avoid it.
I haven’t thought to track when it started, and for how long my moods have lasted, but it would probably be a good idea to start.
Earlier this month, she was gone for an entire week on a job-sponsored course.
I had a great many plans. Lots of things I wanted to do, and to get fixed around the house when I had a great chance.
Turns out, that’s when another episode struck. I mostly surfed the web aimlessly, or lay on the couch, watching TV.
Of my huge list of things I wanted to do, I think I got one thing done.
I bounced back a few days after she got home.
I had a few days last week where I was more on the manic side of things, bursting with energy, and went out on a run. Made great time, and I had tons of energy. Things got done, and everything was great. That faded, and I’ve been feeling “normal” for a while.
Now I’ve been feeling like another depression comes sneaking up. Tuesday was very much down, Wednesday started down, but went more up towards the end.
Which is why I managed to write all this. Unfortunately, it’s the middle of the night here now, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t reach anybody in the regular psychiatry-business here. They’re operating on a strict 8-16, phone-only schedule, which is pretty much the worst-case scenario for me. Makes it very hard to get any kind of treatment started.
As well as the never-ending waiting lists they have.
If you are deemed a non-priority, it can take many months to get in to see anyone. And I feel I should be able to deal with this on my own, not force my way ahead in the line.
if you made it this far,
I know this turned out very ranty and rambling, but it feels good to have written it down at least once.
I’ve never told anyone about my suicide attempt, not even writing it down anywhere.