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 No.209618[View All]

Post here when you don't have enough to say for a topic and it's too depressing for the general crawl thread.
254 posts and 30 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


I have finally stopped taking zoloft. I decided I wanted to get off at the start of this year. Slowly tapered down from 100mg at no real constant rate. Just depended on how I felt. After a dose reduction I would often get horrendous anxiety and would have to reinstate the previous dose. Got down to 25 mg around about September - October and then stopped taking it a week and a half ago. I have felt alright so far. Only real possible withdrawal symptoms I have noticed are ringing in the ears and dizziness when I turn my head too fast. None of the dreaded brain zaps.

I'm not even really anti-ssri. They took the edge off of the crippling anxiety and panic attacks at the time and I was able to return to work. You just feel weird all the time despite whatever benefits there are. Can only describe it as emotionally castrated sleep walking.

In relation to the OP. my favourite off the texhnolyze ost


Well, this is the last day in this house. Parents have finally had enough. First it was simply good enough if I could find a job, I could stay. No luck. Been trying for a month to find a job but none contact me. Then they tried to force me into college, of course by taking out a loan or working. Nothing in college interests me. Can't find a fucking job, and even if I did, it probably wouldn't be enough to move out and survive on my own on. Been entertaining the thought of just leaving and travelling across the states. Don't want to call myself homeless like I'm some degenerate bum, just someone who needed time to escape and think about what the fuck I'm doing. Probably going to just end up getting robbed and or killed. But honestly I'm really curious to how life would be just walking and never stopping. Anyone have similar thoughts - just dropping everything and leaving home?


I've yet to watch the anime but I've been listening to the soundtrack and it has this special lonely melancholic feeling that I haven't heard anywhere else.


Back on anitdepressants. I feel fucking nothing. I don't care about anything. This is just stupid.


maybe you got the wrong med wiz, my antidepressant makes me driven and passionate


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Can't even follow a book on how to draw without getting frustrated and wanting to stab myself with the pencil. I'm incapable of teaching myself how to do anything that doesn't involve mashing buttons and watching colors pop up on a screen.


I bought some books, hoping that the fact that I paid for them would spur me on to actually read them. It didn't. I can't read more than 10 pages before losing all focus. I also get extremely agitated, my legs become restless, thoughts race through my mind, I get an urge to listen to music, daydream, watch a YouTube video, skim across my Internet browser tabs, masturbate, drink some water or soda, pace across the room. My head feels heavy, my chest feels tight, my arms feel like jelly.
The modern world has finally done it. I'm now a dopamine addict.
We're in this together.


The best ways of I found of increasing "productivity" is just removing myself from distractions. Of course, depending on what you do to "remove" yourself also requires some willpower. It was easy for me to read through books when I had to visit my brother and there was no video games and spending all day on imageboards on a phone was tedious due to having to type stuff on a cellphone. But if I were at home, in a room where my laptop is right in front of me and video games are at my side, reading would be practically impossible unless the book was really engrossing. Reality is so shit and alienating it's difficult to not just turn your brain off and go for the quickest pleasures.


I'll probably have no choice if all shit hits the fan too early and I plan on doing just that because there won't be anything else to do. I also don't know how homeless shelters work and would need to learn about them in general. Finding safe places to rest would be one of my number one priorities though next to getting the food/supplements I need to keep going even while going somewhere else. The US is so much more hostile to homeless people than anywhere else I think especially if you're in any remotely urban environment. Then comes land transportation to other places out of state, navigating that with any confidence that you're going to end up where you want to be next eventually is probably the biggest hurdle. Plus above all it takes money, everything takes money to keep you alive. At the very least you would probably need to find something that meets your most basic needs outside of food/resource handouts that barely give you enough to survive if they even meets that. I give myself a headache even thinking about this.


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I had the same problem so I thought the solution was to take drawing lessons but then the problem remains that I can't focus on learning because I keep thinking thoughts like "you're so pathetic, you can't even do a simple exercise right" and being supervised also makes me anxious as it puts pressure on me as I am afraid to look like an idiot and do something wrong or take too much time thinking.


Same here anon. It's awful.
My daily routine:
>lurk on /a/ - /co/ - /mlp/
>listen to the radio and pump up the volume is there's a song I like playing
>smoke Marlboro
>go out to get food or some fresh air
>come back home and repeat the process


Sounds "comfy".


Thank you anon but I do feel lonely and depressed a lot. Also money is getting a bit tight you know. I force myself to think of anime and cartoons all day but negative feelings keep getting my attention.


I highly suggest nightwalks. Also, having been a neet and now being a wageslave I crave the freedom of being a neet again. The desire for the greener grass never diminishes.


Why is everyone a noisy nigger, my mom is a noisy nigger, my neighbours are noisy niggers. I just want to read in silence.


Dude, you shouldn't say that word even it's your own race. Be proud being african american.


I couldn't live without them, I need to wander. Get a little side money all the while on them every day collecting cans and bottles so it's not entirely useless. I don't even know what else to do with myself, maybe if I wasn't wageslaving from week to week some little flicker of creativity might come back because every day I go in I need to become another person and it leaves imprints on your mind. Even if you aren't there you still are to some extent because it's always in your immediate memory.

I remember when I was a neet and had no more than whatever scraps I could pull from doing some random yard or wood cutting work for people in my pocket occasionally. The place where I work now was not that same place to me then. I never even shopped there unless I decided to let myself be dragged there with my mother. The whole association net was not there and it was just loosely connected to the rest of the atmosphere of that plaza. The greener grass is the experience of everything around me without these hard ties to them. Yeah it's all great when you first get one and you actually have more than a hundred dollars to yourself that you can even save and build if you live with your parents. Never lasts, you just want more. I had the most valuable time in the workplace when I was getting paid shit rolling silverware and doing a little back end kitchen work in a restaurant I didn't mind the atmosphere of before going home and doing the same things I always have anyways just with less money and less misery.


>Also, having been a neet and now being a wageslave I crave the freedom of being a neet again. The desire for the greener grass never diminishes.
Fucking this. I started as a temp Christmas job with very low hours which I pretended to be sad about but I was more than happy with that much since it meant I had a couple months without going to the job centre and also decent handful of money for minimal work. The thing is I'm doing ok at it and from the conversation I have had it looks like they want to keep me on permanently, but I'm too much of a loser to say no to anyone so I'll undoubtedly be there forever if they so much as ask.
That's the worst part, I didn't mine the 16 hours a week but getting into 35+ hours is fucking awful and that's just how the world works. I know I need a job and I know I'd hate 90% of other jobs more than this one so I should be happy and grateful right? Why do I instead feel impending doom constantly with no fucking climax so it just gets bleaker and bleaker forever.
I suppose the climax will either be my "natural" death or my suicide. Fuck I hope it's the latter, I don't know how I would mentally cope with many months of this never mind years. There is still that glimmer of green grass in the distance though. I'm sure it doesn't exist and it's the same illusion I have seen since I was like 10 but maybe…


some sort of skin rash appeared on my feet and start to go up my legs
went to the doctor, he looked at it around 30 seconds and without being sure what it was prescribed me antihistamines
the rash has already crawled to my inner thighs


Cant wait for when the alien is gonna claim your wand


Same 4-5 hours a day max 4 days a week was doable. I'm now working 8-9 hours a day and most of the time is pretending, my brain can't be active for so long.
I don't know why normies are so obsessed with keeping people at the workplace as much as possible. Also they don't care much about the people who come in earlier but really like those who stay late (and promote doing it).


>slowly turning schizo on top of anxiety and depression


Thanks anon. I'll take your advice.
Tbh I've never worked nor I want to but I need to shake up things a bit in my life.
I'll try going out by night with my cigs and my Walkman (sorry, I like listening the same station the entire day most of the time)


Me too wiz me too =\


Had such a shitty weekend which I spent most of it on the floor just laying there. Then over the period of a hour I decide I feel better and return to my computer for the first time in like 3 days. Still haven't figured out if it was my decision or my mood just changed by itself.


That sounds awful anon. What happened for you to feel so terrible?



ive been taking ssri for about one month now. dont feel many emotions in my body, its more mental suffering now - but not as intense. rather i feel suicidal and incredibly lonely and hopeless, but i can go outside now, still very inhibited though.


I can't even take out the fucking garbage without fucking up and getting yelled at by my dad.


Stab him with a kitchen knife.


I fell asleep listening to a videogame rap playlist on Spotify. I'm pathetic.


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genocide the jewish race


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>neck starts to hurt
>shoulder pain



I'm starting to get depressed again, I hate it, I feel so rotten inside, like something in me died, I know it's just mood swings, but that's what my medication is supposed to help with, well it's not helping enough



I highly insist that depressed people be considered handicapped. Personally, I'm not even asking for monetary benefits, all I'm asking for is a reduced workload, lower expectations from others and an ability to take a week off once a month without having to make up for the leave period.
Why must it all be so tiring?


No matter how much progress I make, I get lost for days in a depressed brainfog where I don't know where I am. Fuck fuck fuck.


Do cigarettes and beer help you to stop anxiety or just make it worse?


>quit smoking
yet all it has done is
>increase paranoia
>comfort eat constantly
>isolation more frequent
>gain weight
I want to be proud that I don't smoke but literally nothing has improved for me and its just me fucking up over and over again.


aaaaand I just relapsed


This is probably self diagnosis faggotry but I've started considering if I have cluster a schizotypy recently and suddenly all of my weird behavior made sense.


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I really hecking need someone to talk to. I'm all alone online and IRL and slowly going insane from isolation :c


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Talk to Jesus Christ. Literally do so man. You aren't actually alone.

>I am with you always-Matthew 28:20

>Psalm 25:15-18


If only there is an entire website where strangers can talk to each other.


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Was forced into a position the other night where I had to actually speak to another human being all by myself for the first time in 12 1/2 years. My speech was quite stiff & awkward sounding probably because, as one might assume, I wasn't all that comfortable considering the situation. Still, it certainly confirmed, as if any further confirmation was needed, at how stunningly incapable I am at talking to others besides my parents. In this case, this other person happened to be a police officer of all things.

My mother went to see my grandfather who just had a stroke and left me all alone here, which itself is a pretty rare thing to have happen. She was supposed to go pick up my father since the two of them were going to go together, but she never arrived at where my father is currently staying. As a result, my father freaked out and phoned the police since he couldn't get a hold of her anywhere and, on top of that, I'd managed to miss a number of calls from him since our answering machine doesn't automatically play messages and hasn't actually for the last little while for whatever reason. Anyway, on a whim I decided to check the messages and heard my dad say to my horror that that he had just phoned the police to "simply drive by the house". My father, as is often the case with him, not realizing the obvious fact that the police are also obligated to knock on the door as well. Anyway, this put me in quite a panic and since I didn't know how to re-dial him back, I sent an e-mail to my brother instead, who then sent an e-mail to my father to call me back here. Keep in mind that neither me, my father, or my mother have cell phones. Literally all this could have been avoided if we did. Anyway, my father phoned back just in the nick of time before the cops showed up at the door, so, for the first time in almost 13 years, I had to actually answer the door and speak to another human being. I brought the phone with me and put in on speaker so my father could do all the talking. Fortunately there was only one police officer at the door, a female one funnily enough. I just stood there staring at the wall in front of me as I held the phone while my father droned on & on needlessly about this & that, all while I was in one of the worst positions I'd ever been in for a long time. The phone actually started cutting out at one point and then followed with my father needing to phone back, which took like 5 minutes. In the meantime, I was simply left standing there twisting in the wind. The lady cop had asked if it was alright if she could come in and shut the back door, which she was standing in the frame of, with me positioned at the top of the steps above, since it was cold and our families cat, who's actually my brother's cat, but we're looking after for the time being, had poked her out curious to know what was going on. Anyway, I just retreated into our kitchen out of sight and she asked me a couple questions from beyond, as she had the courtesy to remain by the back door at bottom of the steps (what my name was, what's my birthday, etc.). My brother's cat jumped up and sat in my lap as I was sitting in the kitchen, which really helped to calm me down, since I could just focus on her purring as I pet her. After what felt like an eternity my dad finally called back and so I stood there once again at the top of the steps with him on speaker phone. Not long after all the talk of "is your wife mentally ill, sir?", "would you like me to put out a missing person's report for her, sir?", my father blurted out that he hadn't even bothered to phone the hospital where my mother had gone to see my grandfather, which just about made me want to fall over due to sheer the absurdity of all this. With that said, he said he'd call the hospital and then phone back here again and, wouldn't you know, my mother was there and none of this had even needed to have happened in the first place if my father had just phoned what was logically the first place anyone would have phoned. In his defense however, he had phoned some of my relatives who were also at this hospital and they said they hadn't seen her, which, for whatever reason, he took as definitive proof that she hadn't been there, with him not even bothering to phone the actual hospital itself and ask for her. Anyway, after calling back and saying this, that was that, and the cop(s) left.

In a weird way, as uncomfortable as I was throughout it all, I was also quite calm. By rights, I should've been extremely anxious, but I wasn't. Then again, that's mostly thanks to my father being on speaker phone and doing all the talking. Although I didn't feel super anxious, it was pretty clear to see how uncomfortable I was in my highly stilted sounding speech & enormously awkward body language. And yes, in case anyone's curious, I do in fact have a clinical diagnosis for autism, so I suppose this sort of unnatural seeming behavior is only to be expected. Anyway, mother still hasn't returned home yet. I hope she does soon. It'll certainly be quite a hoot telling her about this and all the shenanigans that took place therein. Aside from that, all this happening makes me wonder whenever the next time will be where I'll find myself having to speak to another person by myself. On the basis of just talking with someone in the flesh it was quite a first for me, but given the formality of it and only being asked like 2-3 questions, I still haven't really spoken with anyone by myself, at least on a one on one basis, so I suppose my long standing record remains intact in that sense.


Nice story. You're actually good with the thought process at least, problem is just face to face interaction. In the worst case you can just take paper and pen and write down and show it to a person.

They're going to return tomorrow to question your mom if they physically/sexually abuse you.


>They're going to return tomorrow to question your mom if they physically/sexually abuse you.
Not him, but I'm also a mental case. Why do people always think we were raped/molested/sexually abused? It's like the first or second question every social worker asks me, and then it's always like "are you sure? did anyone touch you inappropriately and do X or Y".


a. Because it's the easiest explanation, much harder for people to question their fuckin happy-go-lucky sunny reality, woah, shit just happens without a reason, people can be born fucked, there's no soul but brain in the scull.
b. In a rare(?) case someone were abused, those questions can actually save that person.


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I once stuck with practicing drawing for a few months straight, I didn't improve at all during that time, I bought some books and even followed online guides spending a few hours on it each day, and yet still after months everything I did looked just as terrible as when I started. I feel like I'm just incapable of learning.


How does one start giving a shit?
For the past couple years I have been a NEET, which suits me fine because it allows me to sit and browse the internet. (The one thing that still holds my attention) My Mother has made me aware that I will not be able to do this forever. I am vaguely aware that being homeless will be bad for me since it will make it more difficult to browse the internet and jerk off

Unfortunately, I cannot care about being homeless, or anything at all really. I have no desire to change. No desire to improve. No desire to learn or change anything. Intellectually I know this path leads to a difficult situation, but emotionally I feel no impetus to change. How do you give a shit?


People generally only change when circumstances force them to.

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