Hannah Allen5 said:Maybe I didn't express myself very clearly before. I mean, I wouldn't mind grabbing a drink once a month, or maybe once every few months, with a totally normal person where nothing happens. I don't care about the numbers, really... they don't matter to me. I wouldn't want to be the thirtieth guy for a girl if she's only been on her third date, but honestly, even that's not a big deal if she's a decent person....
But, look, take this year for example—the woman I had a one-night stand with is just unstable and naive, and a buddy of mine who knows her independently of me actually got the impression she might have some serious cognitive issues. Then there's this other one who has zero self-esteem and all these psychological struggles stemming from trauma, but I won't get into the gritty details.
Before all that, I was in a relationship with a single mom who was twelve years older than me, and that's basically been my whole world since 2005.
Why did I stay with any of them? Well, to be completely honest, with those two, I thought—and I think I was right—that it would make being alone feel a little less heavy. With the older one, you could almost say she actually saved my life, because before her, I was genuinely considering every dark option out there. I accepted whatever came my way because it felt somewhat ungrateful to turn down a decent opportunity while simultaneously mourning the fact that nobody wanted me... Because I just can't handle being alone; I couldn't go five years without anyone looking my way, especially when the people who *did* look at me were the types no one else wanted, or the types who couldn't keep anyone interested.
So, anyway, it's finally over. She reached the conclusion that she doesn't want to be just another "trophy," even though I spent like eight or nine months just trying to get to know her. Not to mention all the tears and the stress involved. It sounds a little pathetic to talk like this about someone you only saw twice in person, but I think I could have truly seen a future with her (well, aside from the fact that we exchanged something like fifteen thousand messages on Facebook)
You have my full support in working on your own self-esteem. Keep your head up, sending love.😉
Hannah Allen5 said:Woman, mother, queen... Basically, I was suggesting that behind some intoxicated girl there might be my perfect match, but honestly, all I see is just some drunk girl in heavy makeup. And I can't even figure out if she's actually "the one" if I don't even get the chance to meet her properly...
Anyway, I guess the issue is somewhat resolved now; I’d say it was just one of those bad days, so, yeah, we'll see how things play out from here. 😳 But I definitely need to work on making sure this doesn't happen to me anymore—and I mean that mental loop in my head specifically. 🤷
Perfect? Don't go breaking your own heart chasing that myth; such a creature simply does not exist. 🙂 😉 Speculating on what could have been, or mourning what wasn't... It's all quite exhausting. Just steer clear of that kind of mental chatter. Pick up German. That was my personal escape hatch from endless, useless monologues.
Olivia Davis81 said:I know there are tons of threads like this everywhere—maybe too many—but I’m looking for some answers I just haven't been able to find. Is meditation really the only way to awaken consciousness? And does Christianity actually allow meditation (like simple breathwork), and what are the risks involved? I've read stories about people becoming neurotic and ending up in psychiatric care, even though meditation is always pitched as this ultimate source of peace and relaxation. I tried it once just to dip my toes into the world of meditation, but my heart started racing almost immediately. I felt this sense of paralysis and a light that kept spreading. I had to force myself to stop. Afterward, I was shaking a little. I don't know if I imagined it or what, but it wasn't pleasant. If anyone here has experienced something like this, what am I looking at?
The most beautiful and lucid way to awaken one's awareness is through movement in the great outdoors. Even if it means trekking uphill and getting a bit winded. That physical connection to the earth is essential for those who are hypersensitive. Don't just sit there and overthink; instead, walk mindfully, observing the trees, the birds, and the vast sky... Nature is calling!🙂
And please, do not try to force "mindfulness." Simply live fully and observe both the world around you and the world within you. The less effort, the better.
It is quite an uphill battle to quiet the mind. Honestly, even those standard breathing exercises often fall short because you’ve essentially just tried to shove the problem under the rug. For me, I either have to sit down and journal every stray thought that drifts by, or I find myself staging a full-blown conversation out loud. For instance, if I'm facing a dilemma, I’ll start talking to myself—within the confines of my own four walls,🙄conducting what feels like a dialogue, or perhaps a trialogue, depending on how much mental clutter is weighing on you. Sometimes, I’ll head out to a local state park just to let it all out. I'll yell at the person I'm confused about, vent my frustrations at myself, or just have a good cry. No, it isn't madness; think of it more as a necessary purging of the soul and mind. It has always been a vital tool for my own clarity. Just please, don't walk away thinking there is something fundamentally broken within you. It sounds to me like you simply became too deeply immersed in this relationship and lost sight of your own North Star. You seem to be a bit more sensitive, I suspect... but truly, there are plenty of us out there who operate the same way. Hang in there. And as for moving forward: scream, shout, let it rip... just maybe not inside your apartment! 😉
I know that fear all too well. If you take a moment to actually map out your options, that dread starts to evaporate. In my experience, the monsters under the bed are always much scarier than the reality waiting in the light. I spent quite some time playing ostrich, burying my head in the sand to avoid stepping foot into a Chase branch and facing the cold, hard numbers. Even at fifty, I felt like a wide-eyed freshman staring at a brick wall, completely overwhelmed by the sheer scale of it all. But once things reached a breaking point—once it became crystal clear that this had to be finally dealt with, I forced myself to walk through those bank doors. It wasn't nearly as terrifying as I’d imagined. I just swallowed my pride, brushed off the embarrassment, and realized that everything is manageable if you tackle it head-on. I walked out of that building feeling a massive weight lifted from my shoulders. The decision has been made. It is a fresh start. A new chapter, a new momentum, and a chance to manage my finances with a much smarter strategy moving forward. After all, life allows for course corrections; if you practice enough, you eventually become an expert at the very things that used to paralyze you. My writing might be a bit unpolished, but please know that I truly empathize with what you're going through. Look the facts right in the eye, listen closely to what the loan officer is telling you, and face it with an open heart and eyes wide open. It isn't the end of the world. person
vivideagle8 said:Everything is just falling apart right now. Every single part of my life—no matter what I try, nothing sticks. I feel terrible. I truly, deeply want to believe that things will get better and that I can stay spiritually fulfilled, but it feels like I’m losing ground. I'm starting to burn out. 😢 Today has been especially brutal. So much has piled up over these last two years, and after finally letting myself cry it all out, I came here to post this. Maybe someone else will find it helpful one day...
I want to ask: how do you all manage to keep your faith strong when life reaches a point where nothing seems to make sense anymore? How do you maintain your spirituality and inner peace when everything is pushing you toward total hopelessness?
The truth is, I don't stay strong. I falter. I get exhausted. Sometimes, I weep. And sometimes, I sleep for hours on end. It is in that stillness, very gradually, that strength begins to replenish itself. It ends up being different than before. I don't force it, nor do I let it force me. I simply move forward, slowly.
There are moments when I wonder... who am I, really? How can I possibly handle this? I feel so weak. But then I think: so be it. If I am weak, then I simply need to find my strength again. For me, that means seeking peace and rest. Then, finding solace in nature. And leaning on the kindness of good people.
And it’s entirely possible. They say a thousand-mile journey begins with a single step, and I couldn't agree more. Great achievements aren't sudden lightning strikes; they are simply the accumulation of countless tiny, seemingly insignificant actions. You have to show up and do *something* every single day—otherwise, you're just spinning your wheels. As the saying goes, *nulla dies sine linea*. Of course, there is also the wisdom of knowing when to pace yourself; much like the old adage suggests, frantic, Herculean efforts applied at the wrong moment are far less effective than steady, measured progress applied at the right time.
Ultimately, having someone in your corner makes all the difference. I believe in you, and I know you'll get there. (Anthony Hayes2)
I am utterly exhausted. It feels as though everyone thinks they have the right to lecture me on how to live my life. But I am fine. I listen, I empathize, I try to understand where everyone is coming from, and when someone truly needs a hand, I’m there. The problem is, I feel like I don't even possess a sense of self or my own agency. And then come the moralists: "You should have done this," or "You ought to have done that." Just leave me be; I am doing what is necessary—not everything, mind you, just the essentials. Last winter, I struggled with severe depression; I couldn't even make it into the office, just hiding away in my room. Whenever I had to step outside, the anxiety was paralyzing, almost as if the skyscrapers were closing in on me. Still, I managed to function at a baseline level. Now, certain "high and mighty" types are breathing down my neck about some perceived shortcomings—nothing major, really—insisting that I "should have" performed better. They're delusional. Honestly, people, I am just happy to be standing here today. It was an incredibly difficult season.
Currently, I am squaring away some old accounts and tackling things I simply wasn't capable of handling back then. Even now, I cannot do everything. No, I am not lazy. It is simply that I require peace—true peace. I need to move at my own pace. I have a roommate who actually had the audacity to ask me how I fold my laundry. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone fold clothes quite as methodically as I do.
Whatever. I will fold them exactly how I see fit. If they want to wander off or fold their own piles, or perhaps enter an Olympic competition for speed-folding, they are more than welcome to. I do things my way. That is all, my dears. Willpower and self-acceptance must come first. Comparing oneself to others is a futile exercise. Period! The most vital skill is knowing how to say: "I can handle this, but I cannot handle that." I haven't quite mastered that art yet. I try, but when others make demands or project their expectations onto me, I tend to retreat into silence. I vanish, as if I am inconsequential or invisible. Afterward, I reflect... and think... Well... maybe that’s for the best. NO. I let my guard down; I forgot to consider what I actually want and what I am actually capable of. I intend to grow stronger!
I’ve been on a combination of Prozac and unnamed for nearly a year now. Honestly, I feel more grounded than I ever have before. I’m not entirely sure how long I’ll be staying on the Prozac. To be perfectly candid, I can’t quite pin down its specific impact because the effects of the unnamed are so much more palpable. It acts like a steady hand guiding me back toward tranquility and reality. I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. As for the Prozac, I couldn't tell you exactly what it's doing for me, other than the fact that I am doing better🙂. I take it with full confidence; it allows me to function at a decent level. Mind you, I am a dreamer by nature... practicalities have never really been my forte. Even so, I manage to do what is required. I work, I sleep well, and I take care of my son. That said, even the minor stresses can still knock me sideways. It’s just... I’m exhausted by everything. Sometimes, while walking home, I find myself wishing I could just collapse onto the grass and drift off—to rest, to sleep, to simply stop thinking... to cease being for a moment. But then, the feeling passes. I’m still here. Just as I am.
Larry Lewis said:I honestly don't know where he went—it feels strange even to me—but I've become entirely too serious lately. There's this looming possibility that I might actually land a solid gig at a decent company, so now I'm just sitting here spiraling, wondering if my health will hold up long enough, or if anyone at the office will notice I'm... well, off. It's all very unsettling.
Oh, and I took my first dose of Lorazepam today, and man, those pills are the real deal—they've actually managed to dull those intrusive thoughts that usually claw at my brain. I'm on 2.5mg, three times a day.
Those sudden mental crashes are the absolute worst part, especially when you're the "new guy" at a job; people aren't exactly patient with that kind of thing.
Then again, I can always go back to manual labor or digging ditches—maybe I wasn't cut out for anything else anyway.🙂
I completely understand where you're coming from regarding that feeling of being limited to certain types of work. But, goodness, I truly believe we are being incredibly unfair to ourselves by maintaining that mindset. I struggle with the same fear of reaching for a better, more demanding position; I worry I'll fail, that I'm too sensitive, or that my concentration will simply evaporate when I need it most. Currently, I'm working a job that is physically grueling—my back is already paying the price—and the environment itself just feeds directly into my depression. It feels like I'm just spinning my wheels in place.
I had a realization the other day: I possess a good nature and a bright spirit, and I shouldn't feel obligated to hunt for jobs based solely on specific credentials or paperwork. There are absolutely career paths where someone with my temperament can thrive.
One step at a time. I try to account for my personality traits rather than focusing purely on technical abilities. I have my limits, mostly because I have a deep-seated aversion to bureaucracy and cramped, indoor spaces.
I know... I've gone off on a bit of a tangent. But really, there are roles out there specifically suited for the "sensitive" types.
Mark Torres14 said:I don't think we should ever accept a different opinion. There's always some logic behind it that we just haven't summarized yet. What we don't understand irritates us. And once we get irritated, that defense mechanism kicks in—we either flat-out deny that a different view even exists, or we dismiss the person holding it. If they aren't using *our* specific logic, we decide they're mentally ill or, even worse, just pathetic.
Personally, I find that I am occasionally capable of grasping the origin of an opinion that diverges from my own. However, just because I can follow their internal logic doesn't mean I have any intention of agreeing with it.
Rebecca Williams11 said:Look, I just wanted to say that everything you’re going through sounds exactly like what depression does to people. It isn't a reflection of who you are; it’s just this illness taking over your life. The total lack of physical and mental energy, that feeling where nothing matters anymore... You mentioned that things spiral once you let those feelings in, and honestly, that might be it—you're fighting some really heavy stuff right now. In all of this, getting into psychotherapy would be a huge move, just keep fighting for yourself.
Have you ever tried visualizing things while you're cooking? Like, if a recipe calls for "half an onion, two tomatoes, and one zucchini," instead of trying to memorize the words, try picturing those exact ingredients sitting right there on your kitchen counter. That trick helps me a ton when I'm grocery shopping or trying to remember recipes.
Also, how is it that your doctor hasn't switched up your meds yet if you haven't seen any improvement in six months?
Exactly. That is the hallmark of depression. Honestly, I think you should tell your physician that you need to try a different medication, perhaps a different class of antidepressant. Switching your AD can often lead to a noticeable shift in your mental state quite quickly.
Please, don't be hard on yourself. Depression is highly manageable once you find the specific medication that actually works for your chemistry.
HANG IN THERE!
I've navigated similar waters myself, but look at me now:
I'm a great mom—not to brag, obviously, but look at me go.😉
Screw Facebook; I’m officially unsubscribing. It’s a massive drain on one's time and, quite frankly, an exhausting waste of mental energy.
The reality of life is far more visceral and potent than any digital fantasy.
Consider a woman who dwells on dark, transgressive thoughts—someone who finds a certain twisted stimulation in imagining a violation. In those moments, she’s merely constructing a narrative, weaving together eroticism and psychological tension within the safety of her own mind. She builds a story, linking these impulses to a sense of heightened arousal.
But then, that same woman experiences an actual assault.