Seven-One-Eight
Bluelighter
Hey BL, this might be a bit long, but bear with me. I'm a 18 year old male college student in NYC, and I consider myself to be severely depressed. This has been going on for years, probably beginning around 14 or so when I first entered high school. I honestly cannot remember the last time I had fun / was happy. I am sad every day of my life and also suffer from crippling anxiety. Again, none of this has been brought up with my parents, and I have not reached out for help to anyone. This is basically 6+ years of built up fucking bullshit and I just can't take it anymore. I feel that if I don't get treatment soon I will seriously become suicidal, or that I simply will be stuck in this depressive phase forever, and end up a lonely waste of life (which is what I consider myself right now). Obviously my self-confidence is non-existent, and I am extremely pessimistic. I have few friends and most of the time I push them away to the point where they will not even bother calling me anymore.
When I turned 18, the only drugs I had tried were weed and 'shrooms once. As one could imagine, both of these drugs made me flip out. The anxiety/depression I already had normally became exacerbated, so I quit using pot. I've only had one shroom trip and let's just say it was the scariest day of my life. I decided that someone in my mental state should avoid psychedelics for the time being.
That's when I discovered Oxycodone. The minute that first little blue roxi began to kick in, I literally felt as if the knot in my stomach was loosened up. No more anxiety, no more sadness. The best way I can describe the way opies make me feel is normal. I don't ever really catch nods like a lot of other people do, my anxiety/sadness is simply gone. I've never really felt "normal" in my life, ever, so as you could imagine, I loved these wonderful little pills.
I've been taking these pills on average once-twice a week since I was 18, usually on the weekends. Obviously they are merely covering up my problems; I'm well aware of that, which is why I'm trying to finally get help. A few weeks ago, my parents found a stash of OC's I had. I was at school at the time, taking an exam of all things, and I fucking had a panic attack right then and there. I ran out of the room and tried to visualize how they would react when I got home later that day. To my surprise, they were more concerned than angry. That's the one thing I have to say I am blessed with, parents who really do care about me.
You know that saying that goes "No one knows their son better than their mother"? That couldn't be more true. The day they found the OC's, she immediately pinpointed all of the problems I was having regarding depression/anxiety. I lied, however, telling them that I was just using them for fun, not because I had problems. I probably would have told my mom, but I don't think my dad is ready to hear that his son is a mental case (again, this is probably me exaggerating, and he would probably fully understand, but I can never get myself to believe that). Although he always says he there for me for whatever problems I may have, I'm extremely embarassed to tell him about my problems because I know he can't relate. Back in his hey-day he was a social butterfly - he had tons of friends, was the life of the party, and could snag any girl he wanted. So these last few weeks I have just been continuing to cover my problems up. I know for a fact that my mother knows; she constantly asks me why I always seem so sad, why I'm always in the house, and why I don't try to go out and socialize to make myself feel better. I seriously wish I could do all of those things, but the anxiety literally is crippling. The depressions makes me feel fatigued at all times and I have ZERO motivation for anything. It's affecting every aspect of my life, including my school work. I have anxiety for no reason at all... as I'm typing this I feel like any second I could have a panic attack. It sucks so fucking much. I hate it. I wish I could go out and socialize like a "normal" person without my heart fucking pounding a mile-a-minute whenever I'm around new people.
Ultimately, I just wanted to hear some opinions on what you guys would do in my situation. Would you tell your parents (I would only be telling my mom for now) about your problems? Or would you hide it from them and seek help on your own? I'm leaning toward talking with my parents. My mom has said a number of times she is willing to pay for therapy if that's what I need. Of course, every time she says that, I snap at her and tell her she is fucking retarded. I don't know, I'm so fucking lost. I want to be able to go out without constantly having a feeling of impending doom on my shoulders every single fucking minute of every single fucking day. One of the reasons I've held off is because I feel bad for making my parents have to go through this. But honestly, I think that's just me being fucking stubborn. I need to do this for me. I can't live like this anymore.
Sorry for the long post, I'm just so fucking confused. One thing I know for damn sure, is that I unfortunately cannot defeat this on my own. I need help. I envy people who can go outside without worrying about every little thing.
When I turned 18, the only drugs I had tried were weed and 'shrooms once. As one could imagine, both of these drugs made me flip out. The anxiety/depression I already had normally became exacerbated, so I quit using pot. I've only had one shroom trip and let's just say it was the scariest day of my life. I decided that someone in my mental state should avoid psychedelics for the time being.
That's when I discovered Oxycodone. The minute that first little blue roxi began to kick in, I literally felt as if the knot in my stomach was loosened up. No more anxiety, no more sadness. The best way I can describe the way opies make me feel is normal. I don't ever really catch nods like a lot of other people do, my anxiety/sadness is simply gone. I've never really felt "normal" in my life, ever, so as you could imagine, I loved these wonderful little pills.
I've been taking these pills on average once-twice a week since I was 18, usually on the weekends. Obviously they are merely covering up my problems; I'm well aware of that, which is why I'm trying to finally get help. A few weeks ago, my parents found a stash of OC's I had. I was at school at the time, taking an exam of all things, and I fucking had a panic attack right then and there. I ran out of the room and tried to visualize how they would react when I got home later that day. To my surprise, they were more concerned than angry. That's the one thing I have to say I am blessed with, parents who really do care about me.
You know that saying that goes "No one knows their son better than their mother"? That couldn't be more true. The day they found the OC's, she immediately pinpointed all of the problems I was having regarding depression/anxiety. I lied, however, telling them that I was just using them for fun, not because I had problems. I probably would have told my mom, but I don't think my dad is ready to hear that his son is a mental case (again, this is probably me exaggerating, and he would probably fully understand, but I can never get myself to believe that). Although he always says he there for me for whatever problems I may have, I'm extremely embarassed to tell him about my problems because I know he can't relate. Back in his hey-day he was a social butterfly - he had tons of friends, was the life of the party, and could snag any girl he wanted. So these last few weeks I have just been continuing to cover my problems up. I know for a fact that my mother knows; she constantly asks me why I always seem so sad, why I'm always in the house, and why I don't try to go out and socialize to make myself feel better. I seriously wish I could do all of those things, but the anxiety literally is crippling. The depressions makes me feel fatigued at all times and I have ZERO motivation for anything. It's affecting every aspect of my life, including my school work. I have anxiety for no reason at all... as I'm typing this I feel like any second I could have a panic attack. It sucks so fucking much. I hate it. I wish I could go out and socialize like a "normal" person without my heart fucking pounding a mile-a-minute whenever I'm around new people.
Ultimately, I just wanted to hear some opinions on what you guys would do in my situation. Would you tell your parents (I would only be telling my mom for now) about your problems? Or would you hide it from them and seek help on your own? I'm leaning toward talking with my parents. My mom has said a number of times she is willing to pay for therapy if that's what I need. Of course, every time she says that, I snap at her and tell her she is fucking retarded. I don't know, I'm so fucking lost. I want to be able to go out without constantly having a feeling of impending doom on my shoulders every single fucking minute of every single fucking day. One of the reasons I've held off is because I feel bad for making my parents have to go through this. But honestly, I think that's just me being fucking stubborn. I need to do this for me. I can't live like this anymore.
Sorry for the long post, I'm just so fucking confused. One thing I know for damn sure, is that I unfortunately cannot defeat this on my own. I need help. I envy people who can go outside without worrying about every little thing.
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