I’mÂ 26 years old, smart, interesting, beautiful, and lately every guy I go out with falls in love with me.Â Even my ex-boyfriend leavesÂ love letters and roses on my doorstepÂ more days than not.Â I get exercise, and sunshine. I have a nice apartment and some decent friends. I was accepted recently to a presitigious graduate school. Yesterday I was supposed to meet with my advisor and choose my fall classes and then head back out to the woods where I amÂ teaching at a wilderness survival summer camp for teenage boys and girls, but I found myself unable to enter the building. Wracked with indecision, I walked around the campusÂ and satÂ on a bench then went back andÂ and then sat in the car and cried, and then finally I decided to goÂ inside, a few minutes late. I stifled my tears and asked where the office was,Â but then I couldn’t bring myself to go there.
I got in the car and drove back home.Â Then with much hesitationÂ I drove all the way back to the school and found the StudentÂ Counseling office. I walked up to the door then turned around. I took a deep breath and walked back in. I asked if there was anyone I could see immediately.Â They said they were closedÂ after July until the beginning of the new school year, and even so they wouldn’t have been able to talk to me if I wasn’t a summer student. TheyÂ gave me a piece of paper with theÂ name of some emergency clinics on it. I chose one not too far from my house and again drove there and walked in with much hesitation and trepidation.Â From eveything I’ve heardÂ and read it seems that if I were sent to a psych ward the unhealthy atmosphere, shitty foods,Â and the drugs would leave me evenÂ crazier than before.Â IÂ saw a counselor and a psychiatrist and they prescribed me prozac and sent me away since I said I didn’t really want to kill myself but I just felt fed up and didn’t know what else to do.Â Now I am at homeÂ hiding out.Â I haven’t taken prozac before but I have taken paxil, zoloft, and lexapro and none of them seemed to have much good effect, maybeÂ like 5%Â good, butÂ mostly just bad side effects. Lexapro was the worst because it seemed to leave me with persistent numbness in myÂ clitoris that has notÂ gone away even though it has been 4 years since I stopped taking it. I have read other accounts of this from antidepressantsÂ on the internet. I can orgasm but it is more difficult.
I’ve been depressed for 8 years, never a day of happiness. Well there was one moment where IÂ went to the dentist and for some reason was quite relieved I did not have a cavity. That was the only moment I recallÂ in all these years of feeling joyouslyÂ unburdened. I cannot recall any specific traumas or abuses in early life but I have a long history of anxiety. I did not speak to anyone other thanÂ my parents, sister,Â and two friendsÂ until age 13.Â At age 18 I came down chronic back pain practicallyÂ overnight due to the stress of school and my distress overÂ our treatment of theÂ environment since I was studing environmental science.Â After that my health continued to spiral downward and I suffer from fatigue,Â chronic infections, stomach problems,Â sexual dysfunction and the like. I can’t shake the feeling thatÂ Â the fearful me that I think I am, thatÂ everyone knows, is just anÂ accident, isÂ not who I REALLY am and that I’m destined for much greater things.
I didn’t start out hopeless or suicidal. I have an open mind and (once had) a good deal of ambition. It is more like the hopelessness has been slowly drilled into my after years of trying and failing to recover my health and sanity. I have tried it all: western meds, naturopathic meds, psychotherapy, psychics, prayer,Â chiropractic, acupuncture, massage, energy medicine, shamanism, fasting and diets, yoga and meditation, positive thinking, not thinking (trying to remain in the present). I have no health insurance andÂ approximately $15,000 in credit card debt from all this, and from not really being able to hold down a regularÂ job. Lately I’ve tuned toÂ the sex industryÂ for money because it is quick and easy and pays well. I take full responsibility for this decision, I’m not saying I was forced into it, but my poor mental health is definitely part of the picture.
I’m very angry at all the money I have spent. I wish you didn’t have to pay people unless they helped, but only one person out of the dozens I’ve seen over the yearsÂ has refused my payment. Others have actually tried to insist that I seem better or look better even when I insist I don’t feel it! Â A couple of peopleÂ have helped me for free, but I find they are a lot less likely to continue to return phone calls and emails when they have paying clients to take care of. I feel like I’ve often been ignored. People have insulted me, insinuated that I wasn’t trying hard enough, or that I didn’t really want to get better.Â I asked my doctor about possible residential treatment programs for depression and he never got back to me. I’ve emailed lists of friends and aquaintances before asking for help, company, food, anything, when I was really devestated and desperate and no one really responded. Too busy with their own shit or maybe I made them a little tooÂ uncomfortable.Â It was very discouraging. I’m waiting to hear back from a woman right now who was supposed to get in touch with me weeks ago. I’ve contacted her twice and still nothing. People suck. Â
I kind of have a business as an herbalist and I am enrolled in a counseling psychology masters program. I’d like to do good in the world and help others in my position,Â but I have no real ambition confidenceÂ or motivation to help others when I can’t help myself, hence the porn career.
What brought me over the edge yesterday was watching the documentary “The Bridge” about the golden gate bridge suicides. I sobbed the whole time I was watching it because I emphasized so heavily with the subjects. For the most part it was well-known by their friends and family that they were suffering and still it seemed there was nothing anyone could really do. That’s the way I feel. I may not be in a psych ward but plenty of people know about my trials and even the professionals seem befuddled by my lack or resistance to treatment. So they refer me to someone else, which feels like I’m being given up on. Or they say things like “you know not all acupuncturists (chiropractors, doctors,Â etc.)Â are the same, have you tried _____. He’s really great?”
I’m at the point now where I am not willing to try very many new things anymore, even if they are free, because it is too frustrating, each time you take a chance and reach out and someone fails to help it gets a teensy bit more depressing. It’s kind of like being slapped on the wrist. Each time I complete another tear-stained session with a therapist I am left so drained andÂ exhausted I can’t really do anything for the rest or the day. I feel like I should be the one getting paid!
Well now I don’t know what to do. I’m not so incapacitated that I couldn’t go back to work, or get out andÂ do something if I wanted to, its actually boring here and hurts my back unbearably to stay in bed all day, but at the same time I can’t go on living this apathetic half-life where nothing ever changes. I think true hell is this limbo of mostly wanting to die but having some little thread, a glimmer of hope or a sense ofÂ obligation to friends and family that is keeping you alive so you keep on living day after day in total misery.
My 27th birthday is coming up. Each year on that day I think as the day approcahes, thatÂ there is no way I can stand another year of this. People have promised me I’ll feel better someday but I don’t. Obivously I have my doubts about the prozac after taking the other stuff. I’m running out of options but before IÂ off myselfÂ I’m thinking of at least hunting down some ibogaine. It is an illegal drug in the USÂ from an african root traditionally used for religious initinationsÂ that often miraculously cures heroin and other drug addictions and also can be used to treat depression, anxiety, and biopolar disorder.Â You can see testimonials on You Tube.Â There are clinics in Mexico and Vancouver BC, and other countriesÂ where it is legal but it is very costly, 3000-4000 dollars. I just don’t see any way of saving up thatÂ kind of money in my current state, so I will look for it underground in the city I live in and althoughÂ that is not preferable to a clinical setting, I might be able to afford it.