Quote from ILikeRats:Hi Jeremy,
I hope you get a lot of responses. You aren't alone, although I know how it feels to think you're the only person who feels exactly the way you do. Read some of the posts on this board and you'll see a lot of people rarely leave their house. If you've tried to commit suicide many times, you should have be diagnosed with clinical depression. Keep working with the medications, because it may just be a matter of finding the right one and the right dose for you (what have you tried, how much, and for how long? Do you take it every day as directed or skip it sometimes? Do you think the mind-racing is a side-effect of the medication, or did you have that problem before you ever started taking them?) It's great that you have such a good friend; does she know how you feel and how depressed you are, or do you keep to yourself even around her? Does she mind that you do not pay rent? Do you have other family members (aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) who you could go visit? Have you read any books on the subject of depression? Two I've found helpful are: "You can Heal Your Life" by Louise Hay and "Feeling Good" by David Burns. I think I will start a new post on this board about books...
I've tried Effexor, Celexa, Prozac, Zoloft, etc. Most SSRI's if memory serves. All of them for proper clinical times, never skipped doses. My racing thoughts do not seem to be related to the medication, I've had them for a long, long time. Maybe all my life?
She knows how I feel. I met her in the hospital actually, after one of my attempts. I was given a choice to live with her, or end up in a boarding home with a bunch of real nuts. Trust me, I tried it there for a night. I picked the lesser of two evils. I do in fact pay rent. $350 CDN per month. Not a bad profit for her, considering that all I get is a couch and a handful of boxes in the corner of the one bedroom apartment. I don't have any relatives that I have spoken to in over ten years that live nearby even. Mostly on my father's side of the family.
I did have my grandmother for awhile but I watched her die, slowly, from bowel cancer 6 years ago. The memory still haunts me. Sometimes, I think it's all the terrible things that have happened in my life that make me the way I am. What do you do with a person who has such terrible memories that they can never, ever recover from them? A question I have been asking myself lately. I never come up with a good answer.