J
Jamesbond
Student
- May 27, 2020
- 116
For me I've been on anti depressants since I was a kid maybe 11/12 I kind of forget.
I led this amazing life, my dream job dream car(wasn't expensive but still ) then my nan hung herself looking after my grandad with dementia and my aunty with the mental age of a 9 year old. I tried to be the hero and step up to look after him them.
Since that point nothing has felt real to me.
I feel like I'm living in a simulation or some sort of virtual world.
I ended up having a nervous breakdown and being held on a police section and agreed to live in supported housing.
I was diagnosed with bp2 disorder and severe anxiety.
When my time was up at supported housing a guy I made music for insisted I came to live with him,
He looked after me so well.
Then I got my own place and I slid and I slid mentally and the services didn't want to know. But the benefits kept coming
I ended up drinking to replace the feeling of joy. And I started locking myself away
my SI got worse and worse.
Then i started noticing patterns that suggest this world is just testing me.
Endless ones before,
I went to a detox, went straight to mental health after a 3 year wait and the guy says I don't know why you're here you've just come from a detox center where they treat mental health, I was obviously gutted, came home and found a letter saying your rents going up by 50%.
But the latest was i found out my rented house was for sale by looking on right move.
Then i get the letter from the landlord saying your house is for sale 70k over market value. Lived here 16 years but thought little of it due to the price.
Then January i get some weird messages off the dwp saying I've been working and my benefits are stopped im like what the fuck,
Start drinking again, end up attempting 3/4 times, gave all my stuff away, end up getting sectioned.
20 minutes before I get sectioned I get an email saying no fault eviction.
But I don't panic because I'm going to a hospital that's a one stop shop for health.
It turns out to be a prison and acute wards in the uk say care is in the community. (Despite the welcome packs and signs on the walls saying you have a meeting every morning at 10am and have 5 therapy sessions to choose from) non of which happened.
So I'm sent home without even the meds I went in with.
The crisis team came to visit me the next day and I told them I'm suicidal. They've never come back.
I'm in this state of mind where I don't believe any of this is real.
I'm on the highest rate of benefits because my conditions are so severe but then they know I'm facing homelessness and my only way out is suicide.
I get home I try to clean my house, my mop bucket breaks, no big deal then I run the dishwasher and it leaks all over the floor I think ok I've got towels upstairs I dry it up. Clean the floor with a sponge on my hands and knees, go upstairs to fold some clothes to pack into boxes, come back downstairs and my whole kitchen is flooded
Kind of throw my iPad onto my sofa to turn of the mains, and discover the screen is smashed to bits!
I can't believe any of this is real!
I believe I'm living in a reality designed to stress test people in that environment. Kind of like the Truman show but they are pushing me and pushing me a lot further.
Sounds fucked up, can anyone relate or am I just a fucking nutter?
I led this amazing life, my dream job dream car(wasn't expensive but still ) then my nan hung herself looking after my grandad with dementia and my aunty with the mental age of a 9 year old. I tried to be the hero and step up to look after him them.
Since that point nothing has felt real to me.
I feel like I'm living in a simulation or some sort of virtual world.
I ended up having a nervous breakdown and being held on a police section and agreed to live in supported housing.
I was diagnosed with bp2 disorder and severe anxiety.
When my time was up at supported housing a guy I made music for insisted I came to live with him,
He looked after me so well.
Then I got my own place and I slid and I slid mentally and the services didn't want to know. But the benefits kept coming
I ended up drinking to replace the feeling of joy. And I started locking myself away
my SI got worse and worse.
Then i started noticing patterns that suggest this world is just testing me.
Endless ones before,
I went to a detox, went straight to mental health after a 3 year wait and the guy says I don't know why you're here you've just come from a detox center where they treat mental health, I was obviously gutted, came home and found a letter saying your rents going up by 50%.
But the latest was i found out my rented house was for sale by looking on right move.
Then i get the letter from the landlord saying your house is for sale 70k over market value. Lived here 16 years but thought little of it due to the price.
Then January i get some weird messages off the dwp saying I've been working and my benefits are stopped im like what the fuck,
Start drinking again, end up attempting 3/4 times, gave all my stuff away, end up getting sectioned.
20 minutes before I get sectioned I get an email saying no fault eviction.
But I don't panic because I'm going to a hospital that's a one stop shop for health.
It turns out to be a prison and acute wards in the uk say care is in the community. (Despite the welcome packs and signs on the walls saying you have a meeting every morning at 10am and have 5 therapy sessions to choose from) non of which happened.
So I'm sent home without even the meds I went in with.
The crisis team came to visit me the next day and I told them I'm suicidal. They've never come back.
I'm in this state of mind where I don't believe any of this is real.
I'm on the highest rate of benefits because my conditions are so severe but then they know I'm facing homelessness and my only way out is suicide.
I get home I try to clean my house, my mop bucket breaks, no big deal then I run the dishwasher and it leaks all over the floor I think ok I've got towels upstairs I dry it up. Clean the floor with a sponge on my hands and knees, go upstairs to fold some clothes to pack into boxes, come back downstairs and my whole kitchen is flooded
Kind of throw my iPad onto my sofa to turn of the mains, and discover the screen is smashed to bits!
I can't believe any of this is real!
I believe I'm living in a reality designed to stress test people in that environment. Kind of like the Truman show but they are pushing me and pushing me a lot further.
Sounds fucked up, can anyone relate or am I just a fucking nutter?