YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

Hi,

I am in the middle of my first week on Wellbutrin 300mg. I started with 150mg for one week. I can't focus. I feel confused and distressed. Now I have a week of Pro Risperidone for a week to calm me down so I don't wake up in the middle of the night with feelings of inadequacy and dread weighing down on me.

I have been depressed for as long as I can remember. I came out of the womb choking myself. I usually say this jokingly to potential new friends and then see if they stick around. I have two friends and a boyfriend. My friends are lovely. I haven't seen either of them in weeks but I know they're still out there, fighting the good fight. If it were up to me, everyone I have ever known would call me every night to tell me that I am likeable and a good person. I need reassurance constantly. I am codependent, my boyfriend is a pretty serious narcissist - this seems to be a pretty common combo. I sometimes (read: way more often than I'm willing to admit) feel that he is the greatest trigger for my depression and anxiety. He is also depressed. He is much better at functioning (read: socializing) in his depression. He thrives on people listening to his ideas. And he has many and many of them are great (rah rah rah, says the codependent). I have low self-esteem (if you've gotten this far you probably would've already put that together). Depression makes it so much worse. I am nothing. It is not that I feel like nothing. I am actually nothing. I have no memories, no interests, no ability to focus to gain memories or interests. Today my therapist asked me to describe the nothing as a colour and texture. I realized that I can visualize something and, therefore, it is not nothing. I saw concave disks, two halves of a whole sphere, the interior was black suede and someone began sewing the two halves together with thick white thread.

My therapist is at a CBT clinic and is pretty great. I like her. She always plays with her hair when she talks and it comforts me. She tells me I am not going crazy but, rather, experiencing a depressive episode that makes me feel like I'm going crazy. Empirically, I am not crazy. I am depressed and anxious. But it will pass because it has passed before. And I'll be back here again. And that's okay. I'll get out again. And again. My parents will always misunderstand and tell me that I need to "figure it out" and compare themselves to me when they were my age and much more accomplished. And that's okay.

So, hi, nice to be on the forums. I've been a listener for a long time. I am not currently listening as it is a serious trigger for me. I have the problem of extreme empathy in which I imagine myself as everyone that has ever lived simultaneously (I know this is an illusion, I am not gifted). Imagining myself as Mental Pod guests makes me cry. I'm doing enough of that at the grocery store when trying to convince myself that I'm just a person getting some groceries and not to panic and run out. Teary-eyed, I persevere through my privileged life and, teary-eyed, I tell myself to not feel guilty in spite of the privilege that was bestowed upon me. Because guilt kills me. I nearly hung myself four years ago. I was on the stool with a scarf over my face and a rope around my neck. In my severe depressed state it had taken me four weeks to learn how to tie a noose (I've since forgotten) from youtube videos. I cleared the history on my computer after each attempt. Then one day I got it and hid my treasure in the basement of my parent's home. For several Sundays while they were at church (pretty much the only time I was left alone during that time - a whole other story) I took it out and hung it up on a wooden beam and thought that it was meant to be that a stool had been left there that allowed me to just be able to reach the beam on my tip toes. I let it dangle there and I watched from a distance. I had already packed my suitcase (I don't live in my home town) and left a note that just said that I was sorry and to forgive me. I packed the suitcase, left the note (neatly tucked into a book) hung up the noose and watched it from the cold basement floor for a few Sundays. Finally, one Sunday I got the courage (or lost the hope) to put it around my neck. I hid my face with a scarf. And I played with the sensation of letting go. I nearly lost my footing on the stool. I didn't feel fear. I didn't feel anything. I had just started Wellbutrin a few weeks prior and remembered the doctor saying that I was at high risk for suicidal tendencies in the first few weeks of treatment. Maybe I just didn't want to be a statistic. I had gotten enough vigour to execute a plan. And suicide had been the only thing I had thought about in months.

So, starting Wellbutrin again has me thinking a lot about those few weeks, trapped in my parent's home, thinking that it would have been comforting but living their lives along with them made me feel small and stupid, like a child (not that all children are small and stupid but I certainly felt that way as a child).

Hi. Thanks for reading. We are not alone, right?

I am not familiar with Wellbutrin, but I am familiar with everything else you have mentioned. When I was between the ages of 10-12 I attempted suicide 4 times, and one of them was with a noose. Granted that was before the days of the internet and so my knot was just a sad twisted thing that knocked the wind out of me and left me wearing turtle necks for weeks. I wanted to respond to you because though i still suffer from depression and anxiety and hate public interactions, I do have a better understanding of that feeling of guilt and nothingness you seem in the midst of. I always blamed it on myself until I met my future husband. He changed so much for me that it is hard to believe sometimes.

I grew up in a highly narcissistic family that was under constant public scrutiny. Every action of mine had to be perfect be it at church or school. I was always a failure next to my family which nurtured a very co-dependant person within me. What I can see now is that so many of the relationships with people I became close with, or maybe just considered friends, followed that same co-dependant pattern. They may have even been drawn to it. Either way it prevented me from receiving what I also needed as a person. I let people walk all over me, doing things I hated simply to please them out of fear. I didn't have the words or the confidence to stand up for myself. And I would even say that I didn't realize I was unhappy with the situation. Instead I defined the problem as my own depression that I was inflicting upon others, and so they had the right to treat me in this way. Every problem had to be my fault, this is still something I struggle with. But you know what it took? having a true friend. Someone to take off the blinders and show me how I should in fact be treated.

I don't say this expecting it to be easy for you. It took me many years and a very loving person who could offer unconditional validation for me to begin to heal. When I was in college I remember so many personalities, but I don't remember my own. I was invisible, I was a thing to be had. This is why I would encourage you to rethink your own happiness now. Your parents feel familiar to me, I recognize that narcissistic family dynamic. For that reason I would say that you should steer clear of relationships that mimic your parents. Look for people that can give you the validation you need, you deserve it and otherwise you will shrink yourself down to nothing. I promise that if you receive what you need as a human you will have something to give back that wont feel like an emptyburden. You are an eloquent writer with feeling. Our world needs more of that, not more narcissism. If their is something to fight for it is that. Don't let your surroundings suppress what is good inside you. Over time it is possible to become independent and leave the co-dependancey that you were raised in. I should also say that it is not on you, it was your parents and their parents before them and before them that instilled this controlling method of loving. You can change that though.

I hope these thoughts help.

-hermitcat