outisforward
dingus supreme
- Mar 12, 2023
- 9
First post of my own on here since joining recently, but a long time lurker. I think it'd finally do me some good to write some things out and talk with like minded people.
TW for a very brief mention of SA.
Please keep in mind I'm being fairly broad and not touching on everything that's ever happened to me, but I'm willing to elaborate on things in comments if anyone's interested. I just know it'll feel good to write this all down.
As a basic introduction, I'm 24, nonbinary (biologically female, she/they pronouns), an Aries.
I have two sisters, two brothers. I'm right in the middle. Sister A is wildly successful and always has been. Sister B was nearly a highschool dropout and the resident failure in my parents' eyes. Growing up it was always "Be like sister A, not sister B", so I held myself to this entirely unreachable standard that she had set.
By the time I was 10 or 11 I self harmed for the first time. I don't remember why, I know I was feeling depressed already at that age but I think the self harm was mostly to feel edgy. It then became my prime coping mechanism for the better part of a decade.
When I was 15 I was raped by someone I thought I could trust with anything. Someone my older sister was friends with, too. He had turned 18 a few months prior to that. I never worked up the courage to tell anyone because some sick part of me decided that I must have done something to deserve it.
I attended an early university program during the last three years of highschool. I worked my ass off. I failed a couple of courses (math just doesn't make sense to me), and that broke all pride my parents had in me. I was no longer worth anything but snide remarks and loud "reminders" to get back on track. I almost got kicked out of the program.
Once during the program and once after I graduated highschool and got into university for real, I attempted to CTB. Clearly I failed both times. I was hospitalized in a ward both times. These attempts were about a year and a half apart. I have never once stopped thinking about trying again, but with a different method (or at least something well researched that I could overdose on and not fail this time).
Throughout that time I have had a few relationships. A highschool boyfriend that lasted three years and was physically abusive in the last year or so. Someone online that convinced me I was worth nothing. Another one online that turned out to have an girlfriend he lived with and just didn't bother to tell me until she found out and called me. Another one online that, despite living in another country, took it upon himself to take the hurt from before that I trusted him with and manipulate it into keeping me under his thumb.
Now, one more online. He's been patient, kind so far. He's 30 and has a child he had early in life, who is nearly a teenager now. He's struggled with many things I have, plus his own demons. They say that two people struggling shouldn't be together because it'll be hard to get better, but I've never felt at home with someone before him. Not truly. We have our issues of course but a lot of those turn out to be misunderstandings caused by our own private hurts.
I'm very nearly 25 now. When sister A was at this point, she had put herself through school twice, bought a house, and paid for her own wedding. I still compare myself to her a lot, and comparatively, I am nothing. I haven't finished university and really have no plans to. I just started a fairly shitty job after moving home (finally worn down by my mother after a long time), and I don't know if I'm even going in for my next shift. Or any shifts. I have panic attacks on the way to work without fail every time, and it's very hard to calm myself and convince myself to go in.
The only things I really enjoy at the moment are drawing and League of Legends, and even those are usually only momentary fixations for me.
As far as diagnoses go, for a long time it was just depression and anxiety, with a fairly recent amendment to bipolar II (manic-depressive) and a panic disorder of some kind, with a little PTSD sprinkled in from unresolved trauma from when I was 15. The misdiagnosis and subsequent non-treatment of the bipolar led to prolonged manic episodes (I'm talking a week or two at a time), which in turn has affected my short term memory. I also have difficulties with auditory processing and extreme sensitivities to certain sounds and textures.
My boyfriend and I have plans for a future. I want to move to him by this fall. I'm trying to work hard to save up for it, but it's difficult for me to stay motivated. I also have a very beloved cat, one of his kitten photos is my pfp at the time of writing this. His name is Nacho.
If, when I was a teenager, I sought out help properly and took therapy seriously, maybe I wouldn't be in this position. I'd be happier, probably already moved states with my boyfriend. I'd be where I think I should be. I'd be motivated.
Instead, I'm here, in my parents house, not sleeping before work, writing things out. What I've been through isn't as bad as some others comparatively, but I've sort of learned to accept that my struggle is still just as valid as anyone else's.
Part of me desperately wants to get better, to recover, to start that life with my boyfriend. The rest of me very desperately wants to CTB. I'm at a crossroads with no real idea of which way to turn. Maybe during my stay here I'll figure it out, by talking with some of you and reading your thoughts and plans.
To whoever takes the time to read this through, thank you, and it's nice to meet you. I hope we all find our own peace, regardless of what that means.
TW for a very brief mention of SA.
Please keep in mind I'm being fairly broad and not touching on everything that's ever happened to me, but I'm willing to elaborate on things in comments if anyone's interested. I just know it'll feel good to write this all down.
As a basic introduction, I'm 24, nonbinary (biologically female, she/they pronouns), an Aries.
I have two sisters, two brothers. I'm right in the middle. Sister A is wildly successful and always has been. Sister B was nearly a highschool dropout and the resident failure in my parents' eyes. Growing up it was always "Be like sister A, not sister B", so I held myself to this entirely unreachable standard that she had set.
By the time I was 10 or 11 I self harmed for the first time. I don't remember why, I know I was feeling depressed already at that age but I think the self harm was mostly to feel edgy. It then became my prime coping mechanism for the better part of a decade.
When I was 15 I was raped by someone I thought I could trust with anything. Someone my older sister was friends with, too. He had turned 18 a few months prior to that. I never worked up the courage to tell anyone because some sick part of me decided that I must have done something to deserve it.
I attended an early university program during the last three years of highschool. I worked my ass off. I failed a couple of courses (math just doesn't make sense to me), and that broke all pride my parents had in me. I was no longer worth anything but snide remarks and loud "reminders" to get back on track. I almost got kicked out of the program.
Once during the program and once after I graduated highschool and got into university for real, I attempted to CTB. Clearly I failed both times. I was hospitalized in a ward both times. These attempts were about a year and a half apart. I have never once stopped thinking about trying again, but with a different method (or at least something well researched that I could overdose on and not fail this time).
Throughout that time I have had a few relationships. A highschool boyfriend that lasted three years and was physically abusive in the last year or so. Someone online that convinced me I was worth nothing. Another one online that turned out to have an girlfriend he lived with and just didn't bother to tell me until she found out and called me. Another one online that, despite living in another country, took it upon himself to take the hurt from before that I trusted him with and manipulate it into keeping me under his thumb.
Now, one more online. He's been patient, kind so far. He's 30 and has a child he had early in life, who is nearly a teenager now. He's struggled with many things I have, plus his own demons. They say that two people struggling shouldn't be together because it'll be hard to get better, but I've never felt at home with someone before him. Not truly. We have our issues of course but a lot of those turn out to be misunderstandings caused by our own private hurts.
I'm very nearly 25 now. When sister A was at this point, she had put herself through school twice, bought a house, and paid for her own wedding. I still compare myself to her a lot, and comparatively, I am nothing. I haven't finished university and really have no plans to. I just started a fairly shitty job after moving home (finally worn down by my mother after a long time), and I don't know if I'm even going in for my next shift. Or any shifts. I have panic attacks on the way to work without fail every time, and it's very hard to calm myself and convince myself to go in.
The only things I really enjoy at the moment are drawing and League of Legends, and even those are usually only momentary fixations for me.
As far as diagnoses go, for a long time it was just depression and anxiety, with a fairly recent amendment to bipolar II (manic-depressive) and a panic disorder of some kind, with a little PTSD sprinkled in from unresolved trauma from when I was 15. The misdiagnosis and subsequent non-treatment of the bipolar led to prolonged manic episodes (I'm talking a week or two at a time), which in turn has affected my short term memory. I also have difficulties with auditory processing and extreme sensitivities to certain sounds and textures.
My boyfriend and I have plans for a future. I want to move to him by this fall. I'm trying to work hard to save up for it, but it's difficult for me to stay motivated. I also have a very beloved cat, one of his kitten photos is my pfp at the time of writing this. His name is Nacho.
If, when I was a teenager, I sought out help properly and took therapy seriously, maybe I wouldn't be in this position. I'd be happier, probably already moved states with my boyfriend. I'd be where I think I should be. I'd be motivated.
Instead, I'm here, in my parents house, not sleeping before work, writing things out. What I've been through isn't as bad as some others comparatively, but I've sort of learned to accept that my struggle is still just as valid as anyone else's.
Part of me desperately wants to get better, to recover, to start that life with my boyfriend. The rest of me very desperately wants to CTB. I'm at a crossroads with no real idea of which way to turn. Maybe during my stay here I'll figure it out, by talking with some of you and reading your thoughts and plans.
To whoever takes the time to read this through, thank you, and it's nice to meet you. I hope we all find our own peace, regardless of what that means.