My drugs definitely have a dampening effect on the sex drive/ability to climax. I just counter the effects of Prozac with a vibrator and high expectations of my boyfriend. It's worked so far.
My drugs definitely have a dampening effect on the sex drive/ability to climax. I just counter the effects of Prozac with a vibrator and high expectations of my boyfriend. It's worked so far.
Haha, my lack of ability to climax has simply resulted in more frustration for the fiance, and has led to a diminished sex drive. It's temporary though.
Haha, my lack of ability to climax has simply resulted in more frustration for the fiance, and has led to a diminished sex drive. It's temporary though.
Just be glad it's due to the meds and not Anorgasmia. I suffer with Anorgasmia and it has caused some problems with girlfriends. Some take it personally and see it as a failing on their part. Others see it as a perk or bonus.
Haha, my lack of ability to climax has simply resulted in more frustration for the fiance, and has led to a diminished sex drive. It's temporary though.
Just be glad it's due to the meds and not Anorgasmia. I suffer with Anorgasmia and it has caused some problems with girlfriends. Some take it personally and see it as a failing on their part. Others see it as a perk or bonus.
Oof, yeah that puts it in perspective. She's not horribly frustrated as long as I keep communication flowing. She knows it's from the drugs.
So I'm coming up on the end of yet another contract facing yet another strech of unemployment looking for work that seems to be getting more and more scarce in this town, seeing stories every other day about this studio laying off hundreds or that studio shuttering. Yup, I'm feeling real good and sorry for myself; careers' in a rut, bills aren't going away and nothing to look forward too but months and months of silence and rejection from outfits I wouldn't have thought twice about applying to three years ago.
Then I saw this comedian, Jim Jeffries, specifically this bit. This guy's a bit of a cunt and I don't really agree with 90% with what he says but I feel like he's got a point.
I don't know if you'll get anything out of it but it gave me a bit of a pick me up.
I'm struggling with the quantity of friends right now. I have very few but the friends that I do have have many. If I split up my time between people I want to hang with and they do the same then my expectation is way bigger than their obligation. It's nobody's fault. But I've got to do something but I don't know what.
I'm feeling really needy. It's not fair for me to keep expecting more time from everyone else. But our quality time has really sucked lately.
Times like now are why I contemplate why I'm still alive/don't kill myself. In at a gaming convention and the people I normally play with are ignoring me and I got insulted by 2 random strangers. Why do I even bother using all this oxygen?
Always tough to hear stuff like that, Dromaro. Insults from random strangers are especially biting, and it sucks to hear about the drama. Conventions can cause some weird behavior. Hopefully stuff looks better in the morning.
Kind of starting to think a lot of my "friends" don't really like me and the sad fact is I don't even like a lot of them. And right now I'm basically feeling like Stan in this episode of South Park. One of the hardest things is I don't really want much in life. Whether I'm depressed or not, it's still the truth. There's really no career I want and I don't want to get married and have kids. I'm not suicidal by any means but I just kind of wonder why I bother.
Hello to all! My feelings (empathy?) go out to all of you. Like many of you, I too am "royally fucked."
I have serious anxiety/attention/concentration problems. Apparently it's a family sickness from my father's line. My anxiety is at a point where I'm pretty much useless in social situations. On top of that, I cant concentrate properly because I can't stop thinking. They mix together to form an exquisite cocktail of failure. I feel anxious for practically everything because I see vivid images of shit in my head. It's to the point where I have to look away a times because of the intense feeling I get. For instance, I saw a guy climbing over a spiked fence and immediately in my mind I saw him slip and fall onto the spikes. In graphic detail, I saw blood, heard the screams and saw the tears. When I can I try to look away at certain things whenever possible. Unfortunately, there is no escape from this shit. When I'm traveling in the taxi to the doctor, as each oncoming car on the other side of the road approaches I see collision after collision. People dying. My mangled body. All kinds of shit. I have to wear shades to hide my eyes, because eye-contact is beyond me. When it happens, the anxiety comes on and endless thoughts and images appear in my mind of people mocking me and/or me thinking something's on my face. If I pass people on the street and they laugh or something, I thinks it's me and off goes my mind into wonderland. It's not that I have bad thought all the time, it's just that my mind wanders perpetually. If I see sad shit, like stuff about seriously sick kids I end up having delusions of grandeur. Curing cancer and autism. My mind just takes reality and fucks it - hard.
I was relatively popular among my peers in high school, and had many females friends. It was to the point where even my male friends told me I should be making some "moves." I did think about it, but that was the time I was losing the war. Fortunately I managed to finish HS finals and get decent grades. The teachers of course expected more and were disappointed I didn't get the As I should have. I just remained indifferent and moved on to the next grade (an optional grade). Telling them I find extreme difficulty concentrating sounds like some cliche bullshit exam fuckup remark.
I started the next grade, and after a few months it fell to pieces. I pushed hard, even taking someone's assignment and rewording it and submitting it as mine. But it was too much, I just could not do the assignments and had to drop out of school. I don't even know how to explain it. I just could not put the thoughts together and forcing myself leads to psychotic frustration episodes. Since then I just shut people out. I saw a teacher once in town and told her I don't talk to people from the school anymore. My brother tells me people are asking what happened to me and I just ignore them. I just push people away. Maybe I am being extreme, as in my condition I really need human interaction. So at times I do try on forums like these, and makes posts at the cost of feeling anxious about what insults people will think up about what i type. I like programming and stuff and I know I know a few things, but the anxiety always comes, and I always think of embarrassment. I even have a few good posts like X3Button as well as implementing a function to properly load 32bit icons since the related GDIPlus function has a bug in it. LaVolpe (excellent VB6 programmer) even me complemented a few times. I even made a decent StackOverflow post. and simple flash app I use with some people from time to time. The anxiety is just always there. I've seen the thread Geek Chat and i always think I should join and listen in, but the fear can control me to brain-seizures. I remember going to a doctor and had to cross a highway. Because I [obviously] cant look left and right and the same time, the anxiety and mind wandering got the best of me and I couldn't move. My father had to hold my hand and pull me across the road.
So, all in all you're not alone. Shit happens, and thats it, Dromaro. I think of killing myself and see myself killing myself many times over. My aunt had the same issue and died in a mental institution. She gave in to the voices and claimed "jesus" was talking to here and she was healed. My cousin got loaded up on anti psychotics and his brain swelled and he dropped dead. It's just that fucked up. I've tried many meds but the situation just gets worst. Only thing left is hope, as feeble as it may seem.
If you read this far, I congratulate you. lol. /end rant
Thought I would necro this thread as a place to gush. It sort of began with a mongol house guest who spoke no English. He stayed two weeks. Before he left, I joined him, the other mongols, and a few American students on a taxing trip to DC. After that, a particularly terrible teacher who had been out for medical leave because he's 80 or something returned. I have since been removed from that class. THAT'S how much of a problem it was. I found myself spending each day planning and contemplating suicide.
Fast forward a bit, I'm on an SSRI -- though it turns out I was already on an anti-depressant for ADD and a mood stabilizer for TLE -- I was hospitalized at the end of January because I strangled myself for a rubber band. It was the first time I had hurt myself in any real capacity, but the nature of how I did it made them think I was in way worse shape than I was. Novelty is one hell of a drug. I was almost immediately released on account me not being that sick.
Since then, my life has gotten better/worse. My teachers/parents/special ed. teachers/etc. have told me to give up on classes and do whatever causes the least amount of stress, but my mind has been getting more fucked up.
Two weeks ago I cut. I wasn't doing that poorly, I just happened to have an exacto-knife in my room for unrelated and innocent reasons, and I was curious what everyone was doing. Ever since then I've desperately wanted to again. I frequently find myself curled up in bed crying because of how little my life is, the desperate desire for adrenaline, the vacant void I want to be filled by the rush of a cut.
I haven't done it since, but not out of lack of desire. I've discovered that literally nothing I have access to in my entire house will cut me. Every once and a while I'll wander into the kitchen and try to slice at myself with the steak knives, with the only result being a few red marks on my unbroken skin. Scissors have been completely useless. My need has gotten so bad that Saturday, I found myself standing on the roof of my first-story bathroom blasting Born To Run from my bedroom considering how much damage the fall would do to me and whether it would be too much.
My anti-anxiety prescription runs out next week at some point. I feel like the training wheels are coming off. Even though the dosage was low and I've been feeling pretty good recently, I am a bit concerned that I'll relapse, and that would suck.
My anti-anxiety prescription runs out next week at some point. I feel like the training wheels are coming off. Even though the dosage was low and I've been feeling pretty good recently, I am a bit concerned that I'll relapse, and that would suck.
If you do, you do. If stuff gets rough, just talk to your doctor again, and go back on it. I tried going off my anti-anxiety medication a couple times, but each time there was a large life event, even a good one, I started getting panics again. This time it stuck, and I have been off the SSRI dose for a long time. I did, however, have the problem that withdrawal gave me a wicked headache for a weekend and made me depressed and cranky. Rym took me out to eat comfort food, because I was so inconsolable, and that made it better. It's not so bad.
Kind of starting to think a lot of my "friends" don't really like me and the sad fact is I don't even like a lot of them. And right now I'm basically feeling like Stan in this episode of South Park. One of the hardest things is I don't really want much in life. Whether I'm depressed or not, it's still the truth. There's really no career I want and I don't want to get married and have kids. I'm not suicidal by any means but I just kind of wonder why I bother.
I feel/think exactly the same way much of the time.
I'm really fucked up on sleep deprivation right now (if I don't eat an entire pan of curry and take a long nap later, I'll probably start seeing things by day's end), but it turns out that sleep deprivation has an SSRI effect in people with depression. Which would explain why I feel fucking magnificent right now.
My anti-anxiety prescription runs out next week at some point. I feel like the training wheels are coming off. Even though the dosage was low and I've been feeling pretty good recently, I am a bit concerned that I'll relapse, and that would suck.
If you do, you do. If stuff gets rough, just talk to your doctor again, and go back on it. I tried going off my anti-anxiety medication a couple times, but each time there was a large life event, even a good one, I started getting panics again. This time it stuck, and I have been off the SSRI dose for a long time. I did, however, have the problem that withdrawal gave me a wicked headache for a weekend and made me depressed and cranky. Rym took me out to eat comfort food, because I was so inconsolable, and that made it better. It's not so bad.
Yup. I'm trying not to worry about it too much, we have plans in place. Helps to not be going through this sort of thing alone.
Found a cheese knife that I can cut with. It doesn't work anymore. I get only pain, no adrenaline. I fear what I will do next.
How about don't. Please.
Do people really cut themselves for an adrenaline kick?
Let me explain something to you, one adrenaline junky to another. You need to get used to the idea that you're just not gonna get the fix you want from life and you need to find other ways to be happy. The problem with any adrenaline kick, as you're learning now, is that you get used to it after a very short amount of time. I believe it's called hedonistic adaptation. I used to do the same thing, but with cars. The first time I took a corner really fast or revved the engine all the way to the redline it was the most thrilling thing in the world, but as time went on I had to get faster and faster to get ever decreasing rushes. It got to the point where I had to make a choice, continue taking larger risks and almost certainly die or really try to avoid it all together. It's hard to do, but you need to use that brain to win out over the dumb monkey in you that wants to see if he can jump all the way to the next tree. It's a long way down if you miss. This isn't easy, I do battle with this part of myself constantly, but if you want to survive you have to.
I am in a fight to not get myself depressed to the point that it will hinder me. I am able to identify a person that is constantly giving me stress that leads to anger and then depression. Anyone know how I could address it with said person to say you are not helping me right now?
I am in a fight to not get myself depressed to the point that it will hinder me. I am able to identify a person that is constantly giving me stress that leads to anger and then depression. Anyone know how I could address it with said person to say you are not helping me right now?
That really depends on the person. I would just sit down face to face and have a conversation, telling them how you are currently fighting with depression, how their stress angers and depresses you, and ask if the things that set you off can be avoided for awhile. Some people will react well to this and truly make the effort to help you. Some people will take it personally and throw a fit. Honestly, that second category of people are the ones I try to interact with/care about as little as possible because it's really freaking stressful, so my personal advice would be to back off from the person if that's how they react.
Reasonable and direct advice? That's boring! No no no, better to be as passive aggressive as possible. Let all that resentment build up until you explode in a fit of rage! Now that's the way to go! After all, who doesn't like a little excitement in their life? ^_~
An update, the person that I mentioned before just informed me that she had a spy camera installed and was using it to spy on me. At this point several of my paranoia twitches are coming back again. Even if she mentioned this as a joke I did a lot to overcome my introversion and fear about the world around me. At this point I am not sure if I can talk to them in a serious note ever again. Getting some people telling me to consult a lawyer about it. Any suggestion would be great.
I don't see why you would need a lawyer. All she did is tell you she installed a spy camera. Unless you have evidence of something she actually did, as well as a tangible harm resulting from that activity, you're probably not in legal territory here.
Quick update. Saw the doctor yesterday, the stuff I'm on is non-addictive and I'm on a low dosage anyway, so we're going to keep me on it until at least after the wedding (a few months after). We might try stepping me down after that, but we're also considering being on it long term.
I attempted to go and talk it out with the family member, it only made it worse. Now I am being threatened to be kicked out when I am about to lose my job again. Anyone have a couch I could crash on or have any additional advice?
Comments
Then I saw this comedian, Jim Jeffries, specifically this bit. This guy's a bit of a cunt and I don't really agree with 90% with what he says but I feel like he's got a point.
I don't know if you'll get anything out of it but it gave me a bit of a pick me up.
I'm feeling really needy. It's not fair for me to keep expecting more time from everyone else. But our quality time has really sucked lately.
Like many of you, I too am "royally fucked."
I have serious anxiety/attention/concentration problems. Apparently it's a family sickness from my father's line. My anxiety is at a point where I'm pretty much useless in social situations. On top of that, I cant concentrate properly because I can't stop thinking. They mix together to form an exquisite cocktail of failure. I feel anxious for practically everything because I see vivid images of shit in my head. It's to the point where I have to look away a times because of the intense feeling I get. For instance, I saw a guy climbing over a spiked fence and immediately in my mind I saw him slip and fall onto the spikes. In graphic detail, I saw blood, heard the screams and saw the tears. When I can I try to look away at certain things whenever possible. Unfortunately, there is no escape from this shit. When I'm traveling in the taxi to the doctor, as each oncoming car on the other side of the road approaches I see collision after collision. People dying. My mangled body. All kinds of shit. I have to wear shades to hide my eyes, because eye-contact is beyond me. When it happens, the anxiety comes on and endless thoughts and images appear in my mind of people mocking me and/or me thinking something's on my face. If I pass people on the street and they laugh or something, I thinks it's me and off goes my mind into wonderland. It's not that I have bad thought all the time, it's just that my mind wanders perpetually. If I see sad shit, like stuff about seriously sick kids I end up having delusions of grandeur. Curing cancer and autism. My mind just takes reality and fucks it - hard.
I was relatively popular among my peers in high school, and had many females friends. It was to the point where even my male friends told me I should be making some "moves." I did think about it, but that was the time I was losing the war. Fortunately I managed to finish HS finals and get decent grades. The teachers of course expected more and were disappointed I didn't get the As I should have. I just remained indifferent and moved on to the next grade (an optional grade). Telling them I find extreme difficulty concentrating sounds like some cliche bullshit exam fuckup remark.
I started the next grade, and after a few months it fell to pieces. I pushed hard, even taking someone's assignment and rewording it and submitting it as mine. But it was too much, I just could not do the assignments and had to drop out of school. I don't even know how to explain it. I just could not put the thoughts together and forcing myself leads to psychotic frustration episodes. Since then I just shut people out. I saw a teacher once in town and told her I don't talk to people from the school anymore. My brother tells me people are asking what happened to me and I just ignore them. I just push people away. Maybe I am being extreme, as in my condition I really need human interaction. So at times I do try on forums like these, and makes posts at the cost of feeling anxious about what insults people will think up about what i type. I like programming and stuff and I know I know a few things, but the anxiety always comes, and I always think of embarrassment. I even have a few good posts like X3Button as well as implementing a function to properly load 32bit icons since the related GDIPlus function has a bug in it. LaVolpe (excellent VB6 programmer) even me complemented a few times. I even made a decent StackOverflow post. and simple flash app I use with some people from time to time. The anxiety is just always there. I've seen the thread Geek Chat and i always think I should join and listen in, but the fear can control me to brain-seizures. I remember going to a doctor and had to cross a highway. Because I [obviously] cant look left and right and the same time, the anxiety and mind wandering got the best of me and I couldn't move. My father had to hold my hand and pull me across the road.
So, all in all you're not alone. Shit happens, and thats it, Dromaro. I think of killing myself and see myself killing myself many times over. My aunt had the same issue and died in a mental institution. She gave in to the voices and claimed "jesus" was talking to here and she was healed. My cousin got loaded up on anti psychotics and his brain swelled and he dropped dead. It's just that fucked up. I've tried many meds but the situation just gets worst. Only thing left is hope, as feeble as it may seem.
If you read this far, I congratulate you. lol.
/end rant
Fast forward a bit, I'm on an SSRI -- though it turns out I was already on an anti-depressant for ADD and a mood stabilizer for TLE -- I was hospitalized at the end of January because I strangled myself for a rubber band. It was the first time I had hurt myself in any real capacity, but the nature of how I did it made them think I was in way worse shape than I was. Novelty is one hell of a drug. I was almost immediately released on account me not being that sick.
Since then, my life has gotten better/worse. My teachers/parents/special ed. teachers/etc. have told me to give up on classes and do whatever causes the least amount of stress, but my mind has been getting more fucked up.
Two weeks ago I cut. I wasn't doing that poorly, I just happened to have an exacto-knife in my room for unrelated and innocent reasons, and I was curious what everyone was doing. Ever since then I've desperately wanted to again. I frequently find myself curled up in bed crying because of how little my life is, the desperate desire for adrenaline, the vacant void I want to be filled by the rush of a cut.
I haven't done it since, but not out of lack of desire. I've discovered that literally nothing I have access to in my entire house will cut me. Every once and a while I'll wander into the kitchen and try to slice at myself with the steak knives, with the only result being a few red marks on my unbroken skin. Scissors have been completely useless. My need has gotten so bad that Saturday, I found myself standing on the roof of my first-story bathroom blasting Born To Run from my bedroom considering how much damage the fall would do to me and whether it would be too much.
Let me explain something to you, one adrenaline junky to another. You need to get used to the idea that you're just not gonna get the fix you want from life and you need to find other ways to be happy. The problem with any adrenaline kick, as you're learning now, is that you get used to it after a very short amount of time. I believe it's called hedonistic adaptation. I used to do the same thing, but with cars. The first time I took a corner really fast or revved the engine all the way to the redline it was the most thrilling thing in the world, but as time went on I had to get faster and faster to get ever decreasing rushes. It got to the point where I had to make a choice, continue taking larger risks and almost certainly die or really try to avoid it all together. It's hard to do, but you need to use that brain to win out over the dumb monkey in you that wants to see if he can jump all the way to the next tree. It's a long way down if you miss. This isn't easy, I do battle with this part of myself constantly, but if you want to survive you have to.
Stress level went down a little bit.