Depression Support Group
Depression is a real and debilitating condition that is often misunderstood by family and friends. Its meaning can range from a prolonged period of sadness to an actual mental illness with specific symptoms. Find and share experiences with others who are going through the same struggles.
my grandfather, who killed himself 10 years before I was born, was, probably a lowlife who blew his paychecks at bars...my idiot dad did mention about having to live with somebody else as a kid, cause they were so poor. He's buried at the far end of a cemetery, with nobody nearby, despite 1940s burial.
my idiot dad wasted lots of money, went to bars for 12 hours all Saturday, then church on sunday, did very little for me, while kissing people's butts. He did the favor of picking up the paycheck for a co-worker, and worried how our dumpy house would look----the co-worker had a total look of contempt when he looked around our living room. Of course he was just one of many who didn't go to my idiot dad's funeral after he killed himself.
My idiot dad and evil mom liked to keep me in seclusion, so less worries for their crazy anxiety, or shame. They never liked the idea of me having a girlfriend----though my worthless dad did make me go to the funeral of his brother/my uncle, who died in a mental hospital, from decades of schizophrenia. No pity from either parent of me maybe having some of my uncle's genes.
And here I am, now, worried of putting my cat to sleep----the only real family I probably ever had in my life, and with no job, money, friends, relatives, or car.
Fate: if I would have had an even slightly better life, I would have certainly have kept all this secret, but I'm 3 years away from when my worthless dad called it quits, though maybe i'll be "lucky" and live another 10 years, to my loser grandfather's age.
"the cruelest lies are told in silence"----Charles dickens.
(mike, in carbon county, pa)
my idiot dad wasted lots of money, went to bars for 12 hours all Saturday, then church on sunday, did very little for me, while kissing people's butts. He did the favor of picking up the paycheck for a co-worker, and worried how our dumpy house would look----the co-worker had a total look of contempt when he looked around our living room. Of course he was just one of many who didn't go to my idiot dad's funeral after he killed himself.
My idiot dad and evil mom liked to keep me in seclusion, so less worries for their crazy anxiety, or shame. They never liked the idea of me having a girlfriend----though my worthless dad did make me go to the funeral of his brother/my uncle, who died in a mental hospital, from decades of schizophrenia. No pity from either parent of me maybe having some of my uncle's genes.
And here I am, now, worried of putting my cat to sleep----the only real family I probably ever had in my life, and with no job, money, friends, relatives, or car.
Fate: if I would have had an even slightly better life, I would have certainly have kept all this secret, but I'm 3 years away from when my worthless dad called it quits, though maybe i'll be "lucky" and live another 10 years, to my loser grandfather's age.
"the cruelest lies are told in silence"----Charles dickens.
(mike, in carbon county, pa)
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A tree outside where I live is dying, seemingly from dog urine----with the bully in my building going out his way to not only have his dog urinate there but to have the dog urinate on the fence and sign I bought to try save the tree----and then slide the sign under my apt door.Turns out that was a TRIGGER for me----bullying and humialtion right out of high school. I didn't realize it at the...
at age 55, and on disability, I don't think I'm gonna have a girlfriend soon, let alone kids.
I think I've gotten over this stuff----which I really never thought about, forever; people think of family dysfunction at 18 yrs, or 28, 38, 48....about age 50 for me to think of all this stuff.
somebody nice gave me a valium this morning, knocked me out for 3 hours, so I still feel..ok...right now.
today I pestered a bunch of cashiers with my hard luck sob story, which also probably helped, though at home I broke down.
teen years, in my 20s, I was too dead emotionally to even think of the bad stuff in my life; a lifetime of shrugging stuff off, even the occasional punch in the face.
and yes, I just might reduce myself to asking lousy mental group for help, though lot of personal complaints about that place.
thanks for your reply.
I might just go back to...lousy...therapy, though last one got angry at me (kinda funny) when I complained about somebody in the group therapy owing me money, and a couple others being convicted drug addicts that the court forced to go there.
but, i'll try again....though I think you only get one year of personal therapy....but it has been since 2002? for me.