The Therapist Thread 💙

@loveyourself That is a really sweet gesture. What you are doing for others is really nice and I hope you are able to help someone be happy. Because someone who even turns one frown upside down is greater than anyone else. :smiley:

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It may be a weird suggestion but try playing something , like a video game (for example I play ROBLOX a lot which calms me down from having suicidal thoughts)

Although I do warn you do not get too addicted or else the second you stop playing , it won’t take long before you turn suicidal

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Like Sims?

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Thank you, but I’m not so happy myself.

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Anything really :sweat_smile: , never tried sims but sure go for it , enjoy not having to stress over your life but instead an npc’s life :joy:

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Anything that makes you feel better , I play a lot of simulation games so whenever I’m on Roblox , I’ll be on royale high arguing with people or an animal simulator game :joy: (Abenaki is by far the best wolf game ever !)

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I do that. A lot

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:heart_eyes::heart_eyes::heart_eyes: YAY!
My friends call me weird when they see me rp but it’s so much fun because you can be whatever you wanna be !

(Hi role player :slight_smile::heart::heartbeat::heart:)

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Same ! hugs

We should stop now before we all get flagged as “of-topic” soo ,

DRINK QOME CHOCOLATE MILK TOO , it’s so nice with biscuits

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Hi! :heart::heart::heart:

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May I ask why?

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Well I guess it’s just the depression you know?

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But it’s still a great thing that you are helping out others, ya know. It makes you feel better to be surrounded by positivity.

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Very true… Thanks.

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I totally understand what you are going through. I have MDD for depression and severe gas as well as like 3 other disorders life for me is difficult. I cant handle playing tag or basically any sports including sports balls tho for volleyball I’m using this soft one and only learning to pass with one person.

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I’m sorry… :slightly_frowning_face:

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I don’t know, I guess I’ll tell my story :woman_shrugging:

Trigger warning (it's looooong)

So, I was verbally abused from when I was one year old. I would get shouted at for everything, for being a baby, for being me. This was when I first started to hide my emotions because I knew that even as a baby, if I cried, bad things would happen. I grew up a little. I was three. I went to bed by myself, brushed my teeth on my own. I was expected to. I had to be a ‘good girl’. Skipping one year ahead, when I was four. I dressed by myself, tidied up my meals myself, and did my homework without help. If I asked, I was ‘stupid’. I was learning English, but thankfully my mother helped me with that. I enjoyed reading books and learning English, but I learnt to never, ever mess up, or my day would be ruined. I would apologise, but then my mother would say apologising made her guilty for being mad at me. But then when I didn’t apologise, for fear of making her guilty, she’d yell at me for not apologising. I didn’t know when to say sorry and when not to. I was an insecure, lonely, confused little kid. When I began school, things were good. I made lots of friends, I was popular. The older pupils crooned over me, talking about how cute I was. I got good marks and was well behaved. I spent less time at home, which, in my eyes, was good. My little sister was born. I got jealous of all the nice attention she was getting, as I never got that when I was her age, but I thought to myself that it was for the best, because I wouldn’t get shouted at so much. I turned five. Everything was still the same. Six. Seven was when the bullying started. People would steal my things, push me into puddles. Blame me for things, shout at me. I told my parents about it, but they just said kids will be kids. So it continued. I didn’t cry, not once. I couldn’t. I turned eight. My self esteem dropped. I believed I was ugly, fat, useless. I didn’t want to live anymore, but the thought of committing suicide never came to me, because I had never heard of it. I got shouted at even more at home. People were being racist to me, stealing my things, vandalising my work, kicking me, punching me. I didn’t know what to do. Skip ahead. I turned eleven. Things were progressively getting worse. I couldn’t do it anymore. This was when I tried to end my life for the first time. I climbed onto the roof of my house, but I just couldn’t jump, so I rushed downstairs and told my mum how bad I was feeling. She shouted at me, was in denial. I was devastated. I felt suicidal until secondary school, which was when things started improving drastically. I had made myself a group of friends on the first day already. Nobody was rude or mean, not even remotely. It was wonderful. My friends were so like me, we had so many similarities and nobody could separate us. Towards the end of the my first year at secondary school, I started noticing flaws about me. I didn’t know what it was. Finally, at the end of the year, I attributed it to me being ‘overweight’, although I was actually underweight (but not in a super unhealthy way, just about below average). In the summer holidays, I weighed myself before and after every meal. I cut off my snacks and tried not to eat as much. It didn’t work. I obsessed over my weight, I would have panic attacks over daily fluctuations, but would smile when the numbers dropped. I was feeling suicidal. I started self harming. I worried about illnesses, germs, and would wash my hands until they blistered. I found a mental health discord group. I flourished. It was the best thing to happen to me. I had so many friends, and I supported so many people. I had a purpose to my life, and a 24/7 source of support. I was promoted to a moderator. A moderator. One of the reasons I am here today is because of the promise to stay alive that I made to my best friends there. We promised each other. My dad found out in the end. He took them away from me. He didn’t want me to get help from non-professionals. I cried for 8 hours straight after that. It was the first time something had broken through the wall I had built. And that, to me, shows people how much that place meant to me. After that, I got a diagnosis. Depression first, then anorexia. My depression was incredibly severe. I had to stay in hospital. I won’t describe that. I started taking medication, which I am still on now. It helped. I was happy. I enjoyed life. I had fun, got discharged, played and went out with my friends. Suddenly, my eating disorder took a turn for the worse. I didn’t eat or drink for one day, which happened several times. But I got rushed to hospital when I hadn’t eaten or drunk for two days. I was too weak to open my mouth to drink. I could hear my heart slowing, and I was scared. I was struggling to breathe. I won’t describe my stay in the hospital. After that, I started recovering. And here I am now. My depression is still very severe, but I’m managing life. I have lots of friends here. My anorexia is getting worse, but I’m eating. I can smile, and I’ve learnt to cry again. And I believe that one day, maybe things can get better.

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I’m not gonna go too deep here (because on mobile I don’t have the choice to hide details ) but I’ve been waiting for a long time too now … I don’t have much hope that someone is going to take me out of the world in my mind but I’ll have to do it myself , I’m not ready yet so … Staying down I guess until it’s time where I can leave and make a new world :heartpulse::heart::heartpulse:

I do hope you’ll be patient , and maybe pm because I can relate so much it’s kinda embarrassing for I almost thought someone was leaking my life story :sweat_smile:

But yeah ENJOY WHATS LEFT ! :heartbeat:

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I had no idea that happened! Exactly why I won’t tell my mom. But I know how you feel.

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I forgot to mention- my parents are very kind to me now. All they needed was to understand just a little.

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