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Introduction: The Pursuit of Happiness and the Meaning of Life by celticcracker on Tue Jan 06, 2015 12:09 pm
Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

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Running Out of Options, Time to Try Catharsis by ThanatosRising on Wed Nov 20, 2013 2:22 pm
I was diagnosed with PTSD after a car accident in 2010 (age 25), and was shocked when repressed memories from the past started surfacing without warning. Along with the scenes from the car accident replaying without end, images of an abusive relationship I had been in for three years started playing, a sexual assault by a boyfriend at 19 that I blocked out, a rape I had experienced at age 18 that I COMPLETELY blocked out, emotional and mental abuse from age 11 at the hand of a boyfriend of my mother's, and various bullying events I had sustained from around age 8 through 14. It was entirely overwhelming; for about two months after the accident I spent most of every day in bed, having nightmares when sleeping, waking up screaming thinking whatever I was dreaming about was happening, then having no perception of time when I was awake, being continually trapped in recurring flashbacks that seemed to last for hours when they were really just 10-15 minutes. I sustained serious lumbar spine and nerve injuries that required heavy medication (50mcg fentanyl patches every 3 days, 200mg neurontin daily for nerve pain, 10mg klonopin for panic attacks, 30-50mg oxycodone daily for breakthrough pain, 100-200 mg orphenadrine daily for muscle spasm and opiate potentiation). I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and shower because of the pain, so I stopped eating, lost nearly 25 pounds within a few weeks (I am a 5'5" female and was an active and relatively muscle-toned 130 lbs., so I became underweight and lost a majority of my muscle tone), so coworkers I ran into once when I had to go to my office to sign some insurance paperwork started rumors I was abusing drugs due to my frail and noticeably gaunt appearance. I withdrew almost entirely from my social circle with the exception of a few friends who were so worried abouy my sudden changes they forced me to keep in contact with them. After nearly two full years of weekly psychotherapy, many hurdles, setbacks, tears, angry and violent outbursts, losing my job, and weaning off all the pain medication, I finally got my PTSD symptoms under control in 2012. During this time I was also pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, which obviously delayed my studies as I dealt with my illness and injuries. Since then, I have had a very exaggerated startle response that never went away (loud noises or someone approaching me from behind seriously frightens me, causing an immediate panic response). I've had difficulty with controlling or moderating anger, and sometimes respond angrily way out of proportion to the irritant or situation. Social anxiety that I always had got somewhat worse, and depression has been a nearly constant battle also. However, I was able to find a new, better job, and maintain my GPA at 3.85.

Things were going relatively smoothly until this October, where I suddenly experienced a PTSD retriggering event. I did not consciously recognize or want to acknowledge it at first, instead convincing myself that the eerily familiar feelings were just imaginations and nothing serious, until it suddenly dawned on me one day what was happening, about three weeks after the initial retrigger. I began addressing it with my psychologist and the psychiatrist I started seeing right before the retrigger for my depression that was getting out of control in the summer. It just caught me so off guard and has made me feel so powerless again. I keep thinking that no matter how far I get in time from these events, no matter how well I do, these horrible feelings are going to arise at any time and ruin my happiness. I feel that I never truly have felt happiness, and that now I may never know what it is like. It's caused me such horrible thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of giving up on everything, the thoughts of withdrawing into myself, the paranoia that everyone can see through me and thinks I'm pathetic and weak for not being able to just get over it....

[ Continued ]

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Be more 'social' they tell me! by therestorativeniche on Fri Jan 11, 2013 6:53 am
Until recently, I never viewed my introversion as much of problem. I was told at work that I "need to be more social". This really struck a cord with me because I never thought that as I began my adult life my introversion may limit my success . So I decided to start this blog and chronicle my journey of becoming 'more social'.

Why are you so quiet? He must me hiding something...

Now this is easier said than done of course. My whole life people have been telling me, 'you're so quiet', 'you should talk more' or my new favorite 'be more social'. It's gotten to the point where some people feel uncomfortable around me because I'm so quiet. What is it that makes them so uncomfortable? Is it that my behavior or lack there of, is so unusual they just can't stand it? Is it that I'm some psycho who's going to snap at any moment? Is it the natural human tendency to be afraid of someone who's not like you? Not my problem right? They should be more understanding. Well unfortunately in a world of extroverts it is my problem. As much as I would love to live in a world where everyone accepts each other the way they are, that's just not reality. It's an extroverts world and if I'm going to thrive and not just survive, I've got to get to work and figure something out. So I'm going to be more 'social'. I'm not sure what that will look like, but in the following months, if not years, I will try and look deeper into the complex relationship that introverts and extroverts have and attempt different strategies for becoming more 'social'.

Why is it that quiet people make others feel uncomfortable?

Please share your thoughts.

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Please Help me figure out what's wrong with me by confusedingulf on Thu Apr 26, 2018 7:00 pm
First of all I would like to apologize because this is going to be really long so I would like to say I really appreciate you reading this till the end and trying to help.

Since november I have been having flashbacks and thoughts of everything I have done wrong in my life, and now that I think about it those things are absolutely horrible.

To start with typical things normal people would have heard of before, I've done things like cheating on boyfriends, lying to parents, sneaking out etc... I lost my virginity at 15 years old with a 21 year old guy and also had sex with a 28 year old who lied to me about his age, which disgusts me when I thought about it.

Now more weird things, as a kid, I would always lie. I would like about everything. I would lie about having cancer, about having relationships with celebrities ( I would even make fake accounts and catfish people) , about being anorexic, i even catfished a real person in real life to show people and pretend he was flirting with me. I lied about having a brother that died, about people I knew, places I went to etc... I don't know why, can anyone help me figure out why I would like so much?

Now the darkest part is sexual. As a child I remember making my dog eat me out. Of course at that time I didn't really know what i was doing but now i see it's bestiality and I can't get over what I did. Likewise, I've been recalling sexual games I would play as a kid which really mess with my mind. I remember licking my cousins' vagina because she said she wanted me to. I also remenber pretending to be asleep while my cousins and sisters licked my breasts because I liked the feeling of it. Is this sexual abuse? Also, I remember once i asked my sister to touch me down there and my dad walked in the room before she did and stopped us. I don't know what to do about this because everytime I see my sister all i think about is if i sexually abused her and why I would do something like that with her.

So when recalling all those wrong things I have been really bad anxiety since and I'm not too sure what's happening. Along with his comes thoughts I don't want to have that I just can't stop. I keep on thinking in my head that I have been raped and my body feels so unsafe even though I know it isnt true, the feeling is still there. I get thoughts about harming people and myself all of the time, I get thoughts about violence and sexual stuff, and i don't know why. I have read online that this might be OCD which could make sense as I recall having weird 'if i don't do this then this will happen" things as a child. For example:

" If i don't run down the corridor in less than 10 seconds then my mum will die in the future"

a lot of games like that in my head that I see now might have been the start of this.

I just do not understand at all what is going on in my head right now and why these thoughts don't stop. I can't figure out if i have been raped or if it's my imagination playing with me because i have no memory and i have been to the extent of asking family members who said no and gave me support. I can't figure out why i started thinking about all my mistakes all of a sudden. Please help me figure out whats happening?

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The devil still lurks, so why not raise my meth dose?? by bookofwildthoughts on Tue Feb 21, 2012 6:14 pm
So 2 weeks have gone by already. The 12 induction days are now over, what a relief ! I can still remember how I was living this, how days went by so slowly, with those 2 ‘girls’, those 2 bi*ches ‘rendering ‘ my life hell. Today, while we were on our meth doctor’s rendez-vous or consultation, one of my ex-induction friends (i accept to employ the word ‘friend’ here, how kind of me!) was talking over to me and that conversation TOOK ME BACK TO THE DAYS! Yes, back to the 12 induction days when we were all together, ha! To cut this story short (since I’m not writing about this today, some other day maybe…), I’m just glad I made it out! I imagined two more days with these animals in that cacophonic jukebox, that cacophonic cage, and I would have hung myself out dry, shyiiit. Believe it or not, I even made a rope out of my blanket, ready to be used… “Anytime!” I mumbled, without even shedding a tear, not even afraid of dying, well it was just for a few minutes, since that feeling quickly got out of me.

So today, when I went over to my meth doctor on consultation, the latter asked me if all’s well, if I didn’t get any side effects from my methadone or if I encountered any craving during my first week out and if I’m happy with my current meth dose. Well I told him the truth, nothing but the plain truth: every morning, I would wake up with my yawnings and running nose well, not as much as the time when I was addicted to heroin like back in the days LOL, but I’m not supposed to get any of this, not even an inch of all this ! My body was not on top mode, which is true as compared to the days when I was on induction. Even if I didn’t sleep at that time, my bosy was not as torn as it is now; we had less physical activities, less thinking to do and most of all, no stress at all, no phone ringing, no email to check, no meeting, nothing! As on my current life situation, when all’s back on other than the heroin cravings gone, I would have to, for instance, assist my parents in cleaning their yards, yes yards with an ‘s’. The truth? Well, I prefer to stay at work premises rather than spend a day home when my parents are at home as well since there would always be somewhere to go, something to do, no rest at all. And the days where we have nothing to do (meaning no cleaning or house chores), well, we would spend the days at the beach swimming and running on the beach. And I’d be all cranked up the next day at work, body all messed up, cramps, etc…

So I told all this to my meth doc and the latter just thought that was gibberish, from what I could conclude. The first thing he would mention was that I didn’t do as much physical efforts in an office, forgetting the fact that office is a part of my life. He said he would raise my daily meth dose but the question remains, since he didn’t write anything in front of me, and that’s quite discouraging.

Because then, the devil would lurk around me and maybe at a later stage, push me back on the streets who knows?? I know very well that a higher meth dose (maybe a 5ml raise might do to start with) is not recommended. Is it not better to be on a relatively higher meth dose than to hit back the streets ?

Think about it !

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