Nai_Calus
2013-11-03, 02:14 AM
I don't know what to do anymore. I'm not sure there's anything that I can do anymore. I've lost everything I cared about at this point and I'm drowning in the sorrow and hopelessness of it all and really have no idea at this point. :smallsad:
It all started to go wrong I guess in June. I missed an appointment with the prescriber I had at the time and ran out of my anti-depressants at the beginning of July. I've been fighting horrible depression since late 2011 and me off of meds is a bad thing since then. Very bad.
I started to slowly decay until mid-August, when things hit bottom. Right before Gen Con I hit a horrible low point to where I didn't even want to go. I wish much I hadn't. Maybe if I'd stayed home I wouldn't have lost everything.
The con was mostly miserable. There were a few highlights, but I was so depressed and ****ed up I was miserable a lot of the time. Met someone whose design work I like who was a jerk to me, spent Wednesday night on the streets, and of course the disaster that was Saturday night. Was in a game with a bunch of people I knew, including Hzurr from these boards who was a good friend and my DM in a PbP here for three and a half years. Someone brought a box of wine and we were all drinking, and that's where everything really went to hell.
I got drunk. I got stupid and brave and at some point I'd gotten a bit of a crush on him. So in my drunken stupidity and inability due to Asperger's and alcohol to interpret social cues, I wound up hitting on him a bit before eventually wandering to my room, tweeting that he was the sexiest guy at the con and I'd hit him, hitting on my roommates, and passing out. Woke up the next morning, looked at my tweets, remembered the night before hazily, and freaked the heck out because oh crap I hit on my friend/DM. Realized he'd blocked me on Twitter, felt awful and guilty, sent a long apology email, tried to focus on games. Then I got a reply telling me briefly and without detail that he was severing contact.
I broke. I fell apart to where if a friend hadn't been at the con that day I wanted to say goodbye to I would have jumped off of one of the parking garages because I felt horrible and guilty and couldn't remember perfectly and assumed I'd done something horrific I just wasn't remembering. Spent two weeks after I got home in a psych ward getting back on meds and slightly stable. They sent me with another two weeks of meds but I didn't have a doctor to prescribe more and I ran out three days before the one month anniversary of that awful Sunday. During this time I found out that when he'd pmed the other group members he'd apparently said he wasn't giving details in case he had to take legal action, which almost drove me to suicide again.
I was on Wellbutrin and Effexor, the latter of which is a horrible nightmare to suddenly discontinue and should be slowly tapered because the withdrawal symptoms are horrific. I got it bad. Really bad. Sunday night I was a horrible pile of pain and brain zaps and sobbing and guilt and agony. I was still convinced I'd done something awful and rape-y. I hit bottom, lost it, started writing suicide emails. Including one to him. He sent a brief email saying not to do anything, he had to go to work but we'd talk it out, and briefly got on AIM and explained that he'd just gotten freaked out but he was over it, everything was going to be ok, don't do anything. I said it wasn't ok because we couldn't be friends anymore, he said it would be alright and he'd just been freaked out, then he had to leave for work.
And I let myself hope. I hoped so hard. That maybe he really was over it. That maybe there was something to be salvaged. Maybe I could someday get my friend back or come back to his game or something, anything. Then two days later I finally got a follow-up email that destroyed me all over again and even worse. He'd been thinking, he said, and talking to a couple of people whose advice he trusted(One of whom was almost certainly the guy I mentioned being a jerk to me who doesn't like me at all), and had decided the best thing was to continue to keep contact with me completely severed. It was implied he thought I'd just been seeking attention, he said he didn't feel he was able to give me the support I needed, he thought his presence did more harm than good for the both of us, the relationship wasn't healthy for either of us and it was best if it was ended. The whole thing read like an emotionless uncaring business memo without a trace of sadness or well wishes. It was the most backwards, inexplicable, bizarre reasoning I'd ever seen and none of the mental health professionals I've shared it with think he handled things in even remotely appropriately a manner.
I wound up back in the hospital. They put me back on meds and sent me with two months of prescription for them and got me a doctor appointment and I stumbled through for a bit but at least I had meds and... Then it got worse again.
Come the first of October, two weeks after Hzurr threw me away the second time, my roommates asked me to leave because of the depression. They were worried, they said. They didn't think I was safe there. They wanted me to find somewhere I could get the support I needed because they didn't think they could give it to me. I'd love to know where the heck they thought a barely functional, suicidal person who'd just suffered a huge trauma was going to go.
I couldn't find anywhere. Nothing workable came up on craigslist, I can't afford a place by myself, and pretty much everything went to hell. I moved out this last week by myself, no help at all, while working during the day. I didn't sleep for three days, just packing and hauling bags and boxes and furniture and loading a truck so I could put my stuff in storage. Last night I slept finally, in my car. I'll sleep in my car again tonight, and tomorrow, and for god knows how long.
I lost my dearest friend. Half the other players in that game were poisoned against me by the legal action comment and won't even respond to me. That game was one of the few things I still really cared about. I'm drowning in hospital bills. I'm homeless. I'm close to losing my job. The multiple rapid traumas have given me PTSD. I feel worthless and like I'm not worth caring about. There's nothing left and I'm all out of hope and I don't know what to do and I keep sobbing and screaming and banging my head on things to try to move the pain outside.
How do you even begin to deal with all of this? What the heck do I do? I'm scared and cold and broken and I'm not sure it's even worth looking anymore. :/ I desperately need advice.
It all started to go wrong I guess in June. I missed an appointment with the prescriber I had at the time and ran out of my anti-depressants at the beginning of July. I've been fighting horrible depression since late 2011 and me off of meds is a bad thing since then. Very bad.
I started to slowly decay until mid-August, when things hit bottom. Right before Gen Con I hit a horrible low point to where I didn't even want to go. I wish much I hadn't. Maybe if I'd stayed home I wouldn't have lost everything.
The con was mostly miserable. There were a few highlights, but I was so depressed and ****ed up I was miserable a lot of the time. Met someone whose design work I like who was a jerk to me, spent Wednesday night on the streets, and of course the disaster that was Saturday night. Was in a game with a bunch of people I knew, including Hzurr from these boards who was a good friend and my DM in a PbP here for three and a half years. Someone brought a box of wine and we were all drinking, and that's where everything really went to hell.
I got drunk. I got stupid and brave and at some point I'd gotten a bit of a crush on him. So in my drunken stupidity and inability due to Asperger's and alcohol to interpret social cues, I wound up hitting on him a bit before eventually wandering to my room, tweeting that he was the sexiest guy at the con and I'd hit him, hitting on my roommates, and passing out. Woke up the next morning, looked at my tweets, remembered the night before hazily, and freaked the heck out because oh crap I hit on my friend/DM. Realized he'd blocked me on Twitter, felt awful and guilty, sent a long apology email, tried to focus on games. Then I got a reply telling me briefly and without detail that he was severing contact.
I broke. I fell apart to where if a friend hadn't been at the con that day I wanted to say goodbye to I would have jumped off of one of the parking garages because I felt horrible and guilty and couldn't remember perfectly and assumed I'd done something horrific I just wasn't remembering. Spent two weeks after I got home in a psych ward getting back on meds and slightly stable. They sent me with another two weeks of meds but I didn't have a doctor to prescribe more and I ran out three days before the one month anniversary of that awful Sunday. During this time I found out that when he'd pmed the other group members he'd apparently said he wasn't giving details in case he had to take legal action, which almost drove me to suicide again.
I was on Wellbutrin and Effexor, the latter of which is a horrible nightmare to suddenly discontinue and should be slowly tapered because the withdrawal symptoms are horrific. I got it bad. Really bad. Sunday night I was a horrible pile of pain and brain zaps and sobbing and guilt and agony. I was still convinced I'd done something awful and rape-y. I hit bottom, lost it, started writing suicide emails. Including one to him. He sent a brief email saying not to do anything, he had to go to work but we'd talk it out, and briefly got on AIM and explained that he'd just gotten freaked out but he was over it, everything was going to be ok, don't do anything. I said it wasn't ok because we couldn't be friends anymore, he said it would be alright and he'd just been freaked out, then he had to leave for work.
And I let myself hope. I hoped so hard. That maybe he really was over it. That maybe there was something to be salvaged. Maybe I could someday get my friend back or come back to his game or something, anything. Then two days later I finally got a follow-up email that destroyed me all over again and even worse. He'd been thinking, he said, and talking to a couple of people whose advice he trusted(One of whom was almost certainly the guy I mentioned being a jerk to me who doesn't like me at all), and had decided the best thing was to continue to keep contact with me completely severed. It was implied he thought I'd just been seeking attention, he said he didn't feel he was able to give me the support I needed, he thought his presence did more harm than good for the both of us, the relationship wasn't healthy for either of us and it was best if it was ended. The whole thing read like an emotionless uncaring business memo without a trace of sadness or well wishes. It was the most backwards, inexplicable, bizarre reasoning I'd ever seen and none of the mental health professionals I've shared it with think he handled things in even remotely appropriately a manner.
I wound up back in the hospital. They put me back on meds and sent me with two months of prescription for them and got me a doctor appointment and I stumbled through for a bit but at least I had meds and... Then it got worse again.
Come the first of October, two weeks after Hzurr threw me away the second time, my roommates asked me to leave because of the depression. They were worried, they said. They didn't think I was safe there. They wanted me to find somewhere I could get the support I needed because they didn't think they could give it to me. I'd love to know where the heck they thought a barely functional, suicidal person who'd just suffered a huge trauma was going to go.
I couldn't find anywhere. Nothing workable came up on craigslist, I can't afford a place by myself, and pretty much everything went to hell. I moved out this last week by myself, no help at all, while working during the day. I didn't sleep for three days, just packing and hauling bags and boxes and furniture and loading a truck so I could put my stuff in storage. Last night I slept finally, in my car. I'll sleep in my car again tonight, and tomorrow, and for god knows how long.
I lost my dearest friend. Half the other players in that game were poisoned against me by the legal action comment and won't even respond to me. That game was one of the few things I still really cared about. I'm drowning in hospital bills. I'm homeless. I'm close to losing my job. The multiple rapid traumas have given me PTSD. I feel worthless and like I'm not worth caring about. There's nothing left and I'm all out of hope and I don't know what to do and I keep sobbing and screaming and banging my head on things to try to move the pain outside.
How do you even begin to deal with all of this? What the heck do I do? I'm scared and cold and broken and I'm not sure it's even worth looking anymore. :/ I desperately need advice.