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No. 2458
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>>2457
That has been my way of thinking about things for a long time, but I just keep making the same mistakes over and over again, and everytime I set myself up for a shift in life I end up in a place worse than I was before I started. Each time I die a little inside, to the point that I realy can't get in touch with my feelings anymore. I can't feel happy, sad or angry about anything anymore. The only thing I experience is indiference, which is pretty much the opposite of feeling something, and the occasional panic attack.
I don't feel like giving up. I actually have a lot of hope of changing some aspects of my life and a lot of things I want to acomplish, but like I said in my original post, I know that sooner or latter I'll just give in to one of the panic attacks and end it. I need to try a different approach before it's too late for me and I'm hoping that looking for help in other people will be the approach that will make a difference. Just posting all of this self pity rants in here is already something new for me, and I'm hoping to bear some new fruits from it.
>>2456
Thanks mostly to my roomate, who seems to hold some sort of patternal feelings towards me, I was pushed to get a job last year and get back into college this year for the third time. He (and a few old friends from highschool) also used to push me to go out at bars and clubs. Turns out that didn't help me at all. If anything, it only taught me that my problem needed a solution other than just starting to do something.
>>2453
Tried it. I used to do therapy when I was younger, but my therapist wasn't really competent. I ended up making up a different, idealized version of my life to tell her about She never tried to make me face the fact that I was delluding myself, even though she had a great opportunity to do it.
Tried going to a psychiatrist once too. I told him how I felt dead inside, how I was indiferent even to my own mother's feelings most of the time and couldn't navigate my way through social situations without comming off as a dick or a freak. I told him about my panic attacks and suicidal thoughts that crept up every now and then too. He pulled out a handbook from his drawer, asked me some questions in the book and diagnosed me with social phobia after 5 minutes (and 60 dollars), saying I needed medications. I left without saying thanks and had to hold back not to punch the psychotic son of a bitch in the face.
But you might be right on me needing a counselor, something like a father figure. That's why I came here. How do I find one when I have no one else I can turn to besides a paid professional who most likely just wants to see me out of his clinic so he can go home and fuck his wife? I can't turn to the few people I know either cause it would be unfair to bother them with my problems when I've already lived off of their pity for so long. Also, they probably wouldn't be able to deal with finding out who I really am. A lot of what I do routinely is considered serial-killer tier freakish by them.
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