(no subject)

[annathyst]

The last time I was happy was when I was five years old in kindergarten. Twelve years ago.
I had friends who were close to me, I had kind teachers, I had no homework, I even had the brand new playground which the synagogue had just erected that year. Above all, both caused by and in addition to this, I was happy. Deep-down happy. I laughed, I sang, I jumped, and I was creative. Terrible crap I turned out, but I was making new things.
Then first grade happened. I was at a different school from almost all of my friends, and for reasons I still question, everyone took an immediate disliking to me. My remaining friends abandoned me without warning, completely out of the blue, and everyone - including many of the teachers and staff - went out of their way to ignore me or belittle me or make me feel worse.
Iterate this until my freshman year in highschool. For years, I had no one to really talk to, to play with, to laugh with, to just...be with without wrorying about watching my back. I was never especially close to my parents in the first place, and as the years wore on, the habit of just telling them that everything was fine became a reflex. I lived in my room, in the school bus, in the halls and classrooms of elementary and middle schools, alone. My friends were the books upon my shelves, wondrous stories of adventure on other planets in other galaxies, or in other times, but elsewhere. Places where the heroes banded together against adversary, and where the bad guys were destroyed in a clean flash of laser fire in the end, and where people weren't denied their humanity - for, in their continued either negation of my existence or belittling it, this is what my tormenters did. During the time when the child is supposed to learn how to become a social animal, I became an asocial one.
High school brought both one good thing - my friend Alex, and his friend Dave, who I am very close to - and many worse things. The viciousness of my treatment increased by a hundredfold, and there was naught that I could do. The administration disliked me, for I didn't get stellar grades or play on sports teams, and, this being a private school, therefore did not make the school look good and bring in the money. Furthermore, I just didn't fit in. I was a flaw in their pattern, and when the opportunity to wipe that flaw out came, they did, mid-sophomore year.
The rest of that year, at another school, was unremarkable. While I didn't suffer any worse, as the people at the other school were almost uniformly accepting and kind, it was too late for this to have any effect. I got accepted into SRC, I've been taking classes which interest me and being around some great people who I'm honored to call my friends, but the damage is already done.
I stand before you a hollow and grey shell of what might have been a boy-child once, one to whom the idea of emotions as more than shades of color on the slippery surface which slide off as soon as their pretense is no longer needed is foreign, one who feels no pleasure save intellectual pleasure, no contentness short of that gained from solving a problem, and one who, to the extent that he feels anything, feels only an eternal yawning emptiness. grey, grey, such goddamn grey emptiness. One who feels no thing, and is no thing, who hasn't brought anything new into the world in years, and who is almost that which is not. One who is entirely disconnected from those around him, as much as he wishes otherwise and as much as he tries otherwise.
I'm not asking for textual hugs and the like that any post about sad news is likely to bring - real hugs and kisses and caresses do little for me as is. If anything, I'm asking for help. To find a truly excellent shrink, or some drug, or something, anything, to fill that emptiness. To regerminate that which never grew. To give me that spark which is inherent in truly living in life.
To help me become human.
because I just can't TAKE it anymore.
numb.

Comments

[duinlas.livejournal.com]

I'm of the opinion that any drugs you take will not help you, but rather harm you. I'd hope you don't go down that path.

As for your life? Maybe you are a hollow shell. Maybe your life was horrible and you're unhappy. So change it. Nothing exists in this life that you can't change. Nothing. Don't believe me? That, as Yoda says, is why you fail.

Don't get me wrong, I do feel empathy for you, but I am not one to lavish pity or tell people it's "alright" when they can do better, or change themselves. Since you were born a human being with a soul and a brain, then you can change yourself. You can become anything you want, and you're fucking 17, hardly old enough to think it's too late for something to change.

All it takes is a real look at what you CAN do. Not what you CAN'T.

[zztzed]

I can tell you this much: Drugs are not the answer.

[slengtorm.livejournal.com]

Despite the fact that I'm a big fan of drugs and I think they are the answer to some things, I'd have to concur with the other two. Getting some new prescription drug would probably not help. In fact, the perpetual burning-out of your dopamine receptors by amphetamine consumption probably just makes things worse. That is, things which would normally be pleasurable may not seem quite so. Certain recreational drugs might give you new perspectives, which could be very good for you, but habitual use of a pharmaceutical probably won't. Do some drugs if you feel that it would help, but keep in mind that doing drugs as an escape from depression is a good recipe for addiction if it's a drug which can cause psychological dependence, and tripping during periods of depression is just asking for enactogenic upheaval.

[price.livejournal.com]

Welcome to the loss of innocence.

Look at the icon on this post, dude. That smile isn't forced. That's real. I'd be willing to bet in that moment you were actually having fun, and actually happy.

The happiness of first grade is blissful ignorance. You get older, you get responsibilities, and you can't go back to that. The trouble comes in figuring out what makes you feel good about yourself.

What ultimately helped me was saying fuck expectations, fuck having to earn myself a place in history, fuck what everyone else told me Id be doing when I was 30something. I figured out what it would take for me to be content. Content if all the bullshit that society tells me I need and tries to push on me disappeared. What really mattered.

You tell me you're a grey shell, I don't buy it. You're happy in the picture, and everything about this entry says you hurt. That's fine, hurt is good.

So what do you REALLY care about?
What matters matter?
What's important for living a life well?
What do you ultimately wish you could do with your life?

They're hard questions, but they're important, along with a lot of other ones.

I've been there. And I know me telling you that can't change a thing. I know that you have to realize that you're either controlled by the circumstances of reality, or you control the circumstances of reality. Believe me, if I could give you the answers, I would, and if for a moment you think that my own answers could be of some help, feel free to ask.

Just know that every answer you could possibly need lies within. Shrinks, drugs, advisors... All of them simply aid you in some way in helping yourself adjust.

[jzig.livejournal.com]

Well, I've sorta been there. The happiest year of my life was 3rd grade, though. Which was good becaus 2nd and 4th grades were the worst of my life. I feel like I've almost recaptured 3rd grade on my good days. I've know I've said this before, but the only way I can really fill the emptiness inside of me is by creating something. Playing with legos as a kid (and now robots in embedded control), writing code, or singing are the ways I keep sane. I know you're capable of creating, everyone is, and I've seen some of your creations in the computer field. Do more creation for yourself. Experiment more with the audio and visual arts. take a photography class, that was my dad's main form of expression for years. I'd bet there are a variety of other activites that you haven't tried. Also, another tihng that fills the void is physical activity. When you're busy doing a physical activity you enjoy, there's no time to contemplate the grayness, you are alive. It took me 4 or 5 years to discover that martial arts were the way for me, and up until then I was a very non athletic person. Try some different intramural sports, concentrating on the stuff you never thought of before. And try out martial arts if that seems interesting. Basically, my point is to try out things that you DON'T have preconceived opinions of. Your previous problems and attitudes and lack of confidence will not come into play. For example, I could never ever become a long distance runner, even though I would be very good at it, because of previous experience. Don't try to fight that, get around it.
On another note, prescription drugs can help. I took prozac for... 4 years and combined with a therapist it helped. I just went off it 2 months ago, and although I feel the greyness probably around once a week, it's very much better than when I first when on it. As for counseling, I'm not sure what kind of counselors you've had in the past, but I'd recommend looking into some sort of behavioral therapist or psychologisy. Psychoanalyzing will do very little to fix your problems. My therapist was actually a pediatrician who did a bit of therapy on the side, and he brought a different perspective. Probably a good idea to avoid someone who calls them self a psychiatrist. My therapist was big into giving me lists of things to do, and then prodding me to do them. Most of the time I didnt do them, but sometimes I did and felt better :P Okay... in conclusion... try something you have no expectations of. It may be scary, but it can't be any scarier than the numbness. That's my two bits.

[notemily.livejournal.com]

I can tell you: never give up hope.

That five year old is still inside you. Never give up hope of finding him again.

(Finding a wonderful shrink can help. Don't give up on shrinks, either. There are a lot of incompetent fuckers out there and a lot of people who just won't work for you, but if you find the right one, it could be amazing.)

For the record I've always thought you were a cool person. And by cool I don't mean leather-jacket-and-sunglasses cool (although I do like your jacket!), but I mean a person I would like to get to know. All of the people who made you feel the way you felt for so many years: fuck them. They're not worth your time.

[oonie.livejournal.com]

that you would even write regarding the emotions lacking in your life indicates that you are still capable of them. they're buried in there somewhere.
i don't think drugs are the answer, prescription or otherwise. yes, i'm biased, but as a recovered cocaine and heroin junkie i can promise you that drugs do not return your emotions to you, they carry you farther away from your own humanity.

counselling and/or therapy would be a great starting place.

[chemicallace]

Part of me doesn't feel right posting here because I don't feel like I know the person you are now. I've seen you smile more and radiate confidence and assumed you were doing fine and assumed that if you wanted or needed me you'd come find me. I'd hoped perhaps in real life hugs and kisses and caresses you'd found that you felt more than an empty shell and that I'd never find you in your room crying again and find myself desperately trying to convince you that you are so much more... because you are, but I know that just saying that doesn't always mean anything. I remember thinking that if a wonderful and intelligent person like you was just an empty shell and a reflection, what did that make me?

I once had an excellent shrink and I recommend him to you, but he's dead now. He's in Boston anyway, and that would be impractical. I find myself turning to decent counselors now and the school shrink and I've started to find things that work for me. Ritalin and adderall have shown me that it is possible for me to work and focus, celexa has helped keep me up when things get really low... I don't know if you have been or what anti-depressants you've tried, but I've felt a lot more whole since I started taking them again. What the school has to offer isn't great, but it's a start. No drug will make you feel perfect, but a combination of a good psychiatrist, good friends, and maybe some medication will get you close and perhaps you will finally feel like you're more than a reflection.

Finally, if there is anything I can do, please tell me. My door is always open to you.