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tell other huddlers your problems


PhillyB

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Robin Williams's death has propelled depression into the front of the nation's mind. It's particularly compelling because depression is such a sneaky bitch - it's not just externally sad people walking around with frowns, but often the funniest, most outgoing, happy-seeming people who deal with it the deepest.

 

I think the answer to that is community. When you look at societies with the highest numbers of depressed and suicidal people, it tends to be the ones that are the most disconnected in one way or another. Sometimes it's physical, sometimes it's technological, sometimes it's cultural. Whatever the case may be, it seems like one fact emerges every time we mourn the loss of a suicide: nobody knew they were suffering.

 

Even though it's just a message board, we are a community, and I think it's worth putting out there in a public way that we as a community should be - and ARE, i think - willing to listen to anyone. If anyone's suffering through some kind of difficult poo I hope they'll be willing to approach someone, through a thread or even a PM, as weird as that may seem. I've gotten PMs from various people concerned about my well-being, offering me advice and even just a listening ear… hell, one guy even offered to let me call him if I wanted to talk about some issues I'd posted about. I was touched by that.

 

So at risk of coming across as over-dramatic... let this be a notice. If poo sucks and you want to talk to someone about it, forget stupid boundaries and barriers and imposing and whatever else seems like it's inappropriate. Hit one of us up, or all of us, or this thread, or another thread. We are a community and no one should be alone.

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I agree. Message boards can be a mild analgesic for our sanity.

They key is finding people you can trust and be open and honest with.

The more you talk about something, the smaller essentially your problem is.

I will also say this. The more you can focus and help others the more your own issues are put into perspective.

Sent from my SPH-L710 using CarolinaHuddle mobile app

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Robin Williams's death has propelled depression into the front of the nation's mind. It's particularly compelling because depression is such a sneaky bitch - it's not just externally sad people walking around with frowns, but often the funniest, most outgoing, happy-seeming people who deal with it the deepest.

I think the answer to that is community. When you look at societies with the highest numbers of depressed and suicidal people, it tends to be the ones that are the most disconnected in one way or another. Sometimes it's physical, sometimes it's technological, sometimes it's cultural. Whatever the case may be, it seems like one fact emerges every time we mourn the loss of a suicide: nobody knew they were suffering.

Even though it's just a message board, we are a community, and I think it's worth putting out there in a public way that we as a community should be - and ARE, i think - willing to listen to anyone. If anyone's suffering through some kind of difficult poo I hope they'll be willing to approach someone, through a thread or even a PM, as weird as that may seem. I've gotten PMs from various people concerned about my well-being, offering me advice and even just a listening ear… hell, one guy even offered to let me call him if I wanted to talk about some issues I'd posted about. I was touched by that.

So at risk of coming across as over-dramatic... let this be a notice. If poo sucks and you want to talk to someone about it, forget stupid boundaries and barriers and imposing and whatever else seems like it's inappropriate. Hit one of us up, or all of us, or this thread, or another thread. We are a community and no one should be alone.

I have mentioned this book before but serves well here.

Bowling Alone. Totally about the rise and fall and slow rise again of community in the US.

Sent from my SPH-L710 using CarolinaHuddle mobile app

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the problem with the huddle is now i can't tell who's being serious and who's being huddley. maybe the OP was too melodramatic.

 

in seriousness, whatever you're going through, don't go through it alone - i welcome anyone to PM me, as i'm sure plenty of others do, if you need someone to talk to. even if it's just doofus huddle friends, we are ultimately here for each other.

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Robin Williams's death has propelled depression into the front of the nation's mind. It's particularly compelling because depression is such a sneaky bitch - it's not just externally sad people walking around with frowns, but often the funniest, most outgoing, happy-seeming people who deal with it the deepest.

I think the answer to that is community. When you look at societies with the highest numbers of depressed and suicidal people, it tends to be the ones that are the most disconnected in one way or another. Sometimes it's physical, sometimes it's technological, sometimes it's cultural. Whatever the case may be, it seems like one fact emerges every time we mourn the loss of a suicide: nobody knew they were suffering.

Even though it's just a message board, we are a community, and I think it's worth putting out there in a public way that we as a community should be - and ARE, i think - willing to listen to anyone. If anyone's suffering through some kind of difficult poo I hope they'll be willing to approach someone, through a thread or even a PM, as weird as that may seem. I've gotten PMs from various people concerned about my well-being, offering me advice and even just a listening ear… hell, one guy even offered to let me call him if I wanted to talk about some issues I'd posted about. I was touched by that.

So at risk of coming across as over-dramatic... let this be a notice. If poo sucks and you want to talk to someone about it, forget stupid boundaries and barriers and imposing and whatever else seems like it's inappropriate. Hit one of us up, or all of us, or this thread, or another thread. We are a community and no one should be alone.

I suffered from severe depression while stationed in South Korea. I can remember feeling so empty. Its almost as if I wasn't having any cognitive activity because I can barely remember my time there, save a few hilarious moments, (being kidnapped by hookers) and the important events that led up to my near death.

The sad thing is the spiral out of control happens so fast you are killing yourself long before you actually do. Within a month of getting there I stopped eating and doing stuff that I usually enjoyed. I stopped playing basketball, exercising, reading and watching porn (Actually in SK they have blocked the porn sites and they make you have to enter your ID number. Of course I didn't have a SK ID number, so I couldn't watch porn). I immediately isolated myself from everybody. I stopped going on Facebook, responding to texts, and wouldn't even bother to answer knocks at my door. I starting cutting and taking medication simply because it was an outlet.

A good friend of mine noticed the cuts and I ended up seeing a shrink, which all but ended my Army career. Literally two sessions in they told me they were discharging me. I was given no help or treatment, but I had to sleep in a lobby area. Not so I wouldnt kill myself but to be made an example out of. Even this didn't really bother me. I had lost touch with reality by this time. I wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. I just wanted each day to end and I wanted each night to last forever.

Anyway a few weeks later we had a three day weekend (Memorial Day I think). I spent the first two days cutting and taking pills. Monday night I was getting ready for bed when I found an entire bottle of Korean Tylenol (or whatever). I downed the entire bottle. I like to think that i wasnt trying to kill myself but thats what i was doing. Afterwards I remember hoping I wouldnt have to face what I had done (I wanted to die in my sleep). To this day I have no idea what it was but it was some crap I had gotten in the town one day. 5 minutes later I was passed out on the floor in the lobby. I'm alive today because the people at the front desk were actually doing their jobs and watching me.

The next thing I remember is throwing up all over the hospital every time I moved. It was a horrific experience, but it reaffirmed that I had somewhat of a will to live as I remember crying hoping to god that my mom wouldn't have to claim my body. I was discharged like 5 days after this and on a plane back to the states. The whole thing is a blur and it scares me at how easy it is to go from perfectly fine to being on your death bed. I don't know what triggered it. Yes the Military sucks but I had been at an even shittier assignment prior to moving there. I still don't have all of the answers.

My family has a history of depression and it has taken its toll. I learned that the hardest way. I really wish our country was proactive and really got serious on combating mental illness. Prisons, Walmarts and Greyhound Bus Stations are full of mentally ill people that nobody cares about.

Anyway if you or anybody else ever needs to blow off some stem just PM me. I've been there and back and would have no problems helping out as best as I could.

Sent from my XT907 using CarolinaHuddle mobile app

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