Lowest Times

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by SacredWarrior, Oct 25, 2015.

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  1. What are some of the lowest and worst times in your life? Sorry for the depressing topic :( Call it morbid curiosity.
  2. Watching my own countrymen descend into xenophobic paranoia is pretty high up on shitty feelings. Waking up to the realization that several people I used to talk to voted for a nationalistic party. The fact people still think race is a distinct and seperate thing with massive differences between man and man, and using this as justification. And targeting helpless fugitives who are escaping war. Right now, I am watching everything my country stand for being trampled underfoot by privileged, spoiled children of a people who given up empathy and solidarity for the security of picking on others. People who lived with a roof over their head for their entire life, free school, cheap healthcare and even 19 year of free dental. People who most of the time come from well off middle class families. Who are now terrified of poor people who dared treck all across Europe to come here. I am watching domestic terrorism on the rise and a media machine refusing to call it such.

    There is going to blood on peoples hands, more then there already is. There is a terrible movement on the rise. People are showing their true colors. I fear for my country, and its gotten my mood all the way down in the shitter. I am angry.

    I still think my personal low was the fact that I fabricated a false pretense of being happy and content, lying to myself and everyone around me for years about my situation in life. And when it all collapsed I was so deep in a hole I honestly forgot how to breathe for while. Panic is a strange beast.
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  3. That's......some deep shit. You need a hug!

  4. The lowest? Finding out my father was cheating on my mother, the one thing we thought he'd never be capable of. Especially when we were just beginning to grow close. The cocaine use for years was always bad, but me and my sister were never left wanting when it came to him taking care of the family and working 70 hours a week to provide for us.
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  5. Disclaimer: My life was extraordinarily unpleasant at several points. I'm only bringing this up to satisfy the macabre curiosity of SacredWarrior, as I don't ask for pity about this shit. It just happened, nothing more, nothing less.

    Hmm... Well, I'm struggling pretty hard right now, but I guess the lowest point would have to be when I was either fifteen or twenty. One of those two periods of time was the darkest, I can't decide which.

    Something to understand is, prior to reaching the age of 15, I had been psychologically and emotionally abused by a mother off her meds. Every two-ish years or so my family moved, meaning that I had just long enough to form close friendships, and then I would get ripped away from them. (Ergo why I'm so active on the Internet--can't lose your Internet friends when you move.) I never fit in with most groups of children either, which only compounded the immense and profound sense of isolation I felt. The emotional abuse when I was 13-14 got severe enough that I used to spend several hours holed up in my bedroom in the basement, contemplating thoughts of suicide as I did everything I could to keep myself away from the rest of the world. 15, though, was a hell of a whirlwind of a year. The family arguments grew sufficiently to the point that my mother started running out to swinger's clubs and soon thereafter, broke up with my father in a rather bloody separation. For the last couple of weeks, she wasn't even really there in my life at all, even abandoning responsibilities to take me to classes so she could keep up her swinger's lifestyle. Finally, she bolted from my life.

    With 100,000 dollars and the family vehicle, and none of the 250,000+ in debt that she left behind.

    Oh, don't worry, it got worse better when we were forced to sell the house, and she was legally allowed to take half of the profits without putting in any effort to help, and without taking any of the mortgage. She went and started a lingerie shop with that money. Money that could have been used to get me into post secondary, but oops, lingerie shop > post secondary for her kids I guess. Don't worry, she closed the shop some few months later, after she lost interest in it. Money well spent.

    I ended up essentially homeless for three weeks after my family had to sell the house. These three weeks were the lowest point in my life, I spent in my great aunt's basement. So, utterly demoralized and broken, that I couldn't even muster the effort to attempt suicide. Which is a good thing, because I'm pretty sure I would have at that point if I could have mustered the effort to do so. At this point, relations between me and my brother degraded to such a horrendous point that he ran off to my mother when she wanted to start cycling money to herself via child support payments the government forced my dad to pay, which nearly bankrupted him twice. I lashed out and hurt people I shouldn't have, because I was an angry, stupid fifteen year old.

    So, either that event, or when I was twenty, working a dead end job, being harassed constantly to do better in spite of working so hard that I had only about four hours of sleep a night. After a couple months of that, I snapped under the pressure and ended up isolating myself from all of my friends. I completely broke apart inside and the only thing that convinced me to keep going was this belief that there was, somewhere, at some point, a light at the end of the tunnel.

    I'm twenty two now. Life is still hard in some ways, but, a lot better than it used to be. I'm still bordering the poverty line, but I'm psychologically healthier, I have good friends (and a girlfriend), and what little family I have left is all the family I need to put trust in and have faith in. And by "family", I mean I can count the total both extended and immediate on one hand. It at least makes Christmas shopping easy as fuck. :rotfl: From here, things can only really keep going up. I'm not alone, and I've been hurt enough times to know how to deal with suffering and pain. I have objectives, goals, I have direction.

    For the first time in arguably my whole life, I actually care about myself too. Struggled with that quite a bit when I was twenty one, trying to break free of a lot of psychological scars from when I was younger. I eventually did, though. :ferret:

    So, yeah, there. Curiosity satisfied?
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  6. I edited it a few moments before getting this. Rough day. People being dumb. Sorry, @Hellis , you're still an okay person in my book.
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  7. Thank you. It's always nice to see people willing to act peaceably.
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  8. My mom's death.
    She was a rock for me. It happened like the snap of a finger. Diagnosed with breast cancer in the late stages. She didn't want anyone telling her how to live. I remember her gradual change from someone I knew to, at times, a stranger. I believe it had something to do with the cancer but no one really cares about someone who doesn't have health insurance. My last conversation with her. She said she was tired and I wanted so much to take her pain away but I couldn't. I felt helpless and like that she was gone.
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  9. Well my beloved dog that I would go to hell and back for was killed right before my very eyes. What was worse than that was watching her bleed to death while attempting to help her. Even worse than that was hearing the doctor tell me that there was nothing she could and in shorter words, my dog was already did. To top things off, burying her was the worst part of it all. Yup yup, nothing is more fun than burying someone that you swore you'd always protect. Heh...what a liar I turned out to be xD On the bright side though...there is no bright side. Some roads just don't have light shining at the end of it.
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  10. I can definitely relate :(
  11. A period in my life where I would constantly watch family members puke their guts out due to alcohol and drugs. The few times my dad would take me somewhere he would snort coke in front of me and my sisters. Certainly was more effective keeping me away from such substances than any free D.A.R.E T-Shirt could. Not too long after would me, my mother, and sisters become homeless without any support from the more wealthy side of our family. Homelessness wasn't anything new, but with all those events, it was probably the lowest I've been in life.
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  12. - Pats head - Sounds like you had it rough bruh. - Hands consolation ticket with the words "Keep going strong" inscribed on it - Btw, you owe me five bucks for the ticket xD
  13. I'd have to say the first half or so of my junior year of high school, leading up to my ADD diagnosis. Not that the diagnosis was bad, no no -- that was the start of when things got better. It was the time spent undiagnosed that hurt, and it just got worse and worse throughout high school, until that one awful year in which I am so glad I decided to seek help.

    ADD for me means not being able to focus on things, simply put. But I don't hyperactively bounce from task to task -- I'm spacey, I zone out easily, and I actually feel kind of lethargic and unmotivated when I'm really out of it and I just can't concentrate at all. This made homework pretty difficult for me, as you might imagine. For pretty much as far back as I can remember, my afterschool activities would go something like this: I would sit down with the intention to do homework, stare at a sheet of math problems for 20 minutes, and then eventually give up after having like .02% of it done as I clearly wasn't getting anywhere. Thing is, it's not that I didn't understand the material. I was actually always considered a pretty smart kid growing up -- above-average reading level, good test-taker, understood and retained information pretty well without even needing to take notes, etc -- which is probably why none of the adults in my life would've ever suspected that I had a disorder like this, and probably why I never thought that I had any real problems until much later into my schooling. Anytime that I didn't do the work that was in front of me, it was just because I was... lazy. That was my understanding of it at the time, anyway, and presumably what my parents and teachers thought, as well. What other explanation would there be for me knowing how to do the work, and then just... not doing it?

    Now, in grade school, this really wasn't an issue -- I hardly had any homework to begin with and the small amount that did exist, well, I do recall still zoning out quite a bit, but it was a small enough amount to get through without too much of an issue. Middle school was when the problem started to emerge, as it was when I was introduced to the lovely concept of ~Study Hall~ and, with it, the "I'll just do this before class tomorrow" mentality. I found myself skipping out on like 90% of my homework each night, telling myself I'd just do it tomorrow in study hall. And, while I did concentrate slightly better in a school setting than at home (which was probably a lot of my rationale for doing this, even if I wasn't totally conscious of it), it'll probably go without saying that a lot of my homework didn't get done, which, of course, bogged down my grades quite a bit.

    Now, like I said before, I was always a smart kid and a good test-taker, so the bad homework record, at least at this point in time, wasn't the massive drain on my self-esteem that it would later become, as I still generally had high 70's at the lowest in all my classes -- but, high C's and low B's are still kind of disappointing when your test scores are mostly A's and high B's. Whenever my parents would ask why I was never turning in homework, the answer would usually be something like "I forgot", even though I knew that was a lie, and the truth (as I understood it) was that I was just lazy. I knew I had homework, I sat down to do it, and then I just... didn't, and, for the longest time, I didn't really understand why (and I'm amazed that such a reality didn't set off any alarms for me sooner than it did).

    High school was more of the same song and dance, for a while. Freshman year wasn't too bad, at least not compared to what was to come -- more work, yeah, but with the same issues at play and me still not being too concerned about it. Sophomore year, I took an AP class. It was hard. Like really hard. It was probably the first time that I sat down to take a test and knew jack shit about what the questions were asking. It became pretty clear that I'd need to actually study in this class if I wanted to succeed, but, with my homework completion being what it was, there was no way that was happening. My parents weren't happy about it, but they were more lenient with it than they would be with other classes, given that it was an AP class, so it makes sense that it would be a lot more difficult. I, too, kind of gave myself that excuse, which is probably why I didn't beat myself up too hard about it (even though it was stressful...) In the end, I'm not sure how I passed that class.

    Junior year I took two AP classes. I'm not sure why I thought that would be a good idea at the time. At any rate, that was the year that things really fell apart, and not just for school-related reasons (although that certainly kickstarted a lot of it). AP Physics was what really killed me, not just because of the more regular graded assignments but also because of what the class was all about, really -- problem-solving, and most of the practice for learning how to solve these problems came in the form of homework practice. My other AP classes were history courses, which meant that a lot of it was just memorizing information -- which I was bad at, yes, given the circumstances -- but at least it didn't make me feel nearly as pathetic as I did when I tried to solve AP physics problems. Homework was no longer a matter of me staring at a sheet of math problems that I knew how to do and then just being too "lazy" to do them -- it was me really, really trying to do the work, pushed forward by the immense stress of the course, and then just not knowing how to do anything, and then, I still couldn't do even the most basic and easy homework offered by my non-AP classes. I wasn't just lazy anymore, I was stupid, too, and suddenly I started blaming myself for just about everything that went wrong in my life. A friend of mine is going through a rough patch? Must be because I'm a shitty friend who couldn't help them, who also claimed they didn't have time to help them even though, after spending an hour staring at homework that I couldn't figure out, and then spending another hour staring at homework that I should've known how to do but just didn't do, I then gave up and spent the rest of my afternoon derping around on the internet. I claimed that I worked as hard as I could but I wasn't doing that -- I was just giving up most of the time. And then my teachers and parents would all just keep asking why, why wasn't I doing the work? After all, I was clearly capable, so why not put in the work? And I never had an answer for them, and that just made me feel even worse about myself. I swear, it felt like at least once every other week, I would lie awake at night just... sobbing quietly to myself, and thinking about all the ways that I'm just so pathetic, and how I just couldn't seem to do anything, because I was always either too stupid or too lazy to get the work done, and how I would then just give up and spend the rest of my evening online or playing video games, and, even though I wanted to say that I was giving 110% effort and that it just wasn't enough, I knew that I wasn't doing that, and that I was actually just spending the majority of my time not doing work, and then beating myself up about it.

    Emotionally, it was an absolutely brutal time. My grades were shit, my self-esteem was shit -- all made worse by the fact that the adults in my life used to consider me to be such a "smart kid", but, at that time, I had turned into the kid who was struggling in several classes and didn't seem to be putting forth the effort to do well in any of them. The majority of afternoons/evenings were spent with me trying, for at least some while, to get work done, but eventually giving up as that clearly wasn't working, and then spending a lot of that time just feeling guilty about not doing the work like I should have. And then there were the occasional, incredibly painful nights of a shaking, stress-filled me spending the entire night forcing myself to shit out an essay the night before the deadline or, sometimes, even resorting to cheating and looking up the answers to the online physics homework because after spending hours on it, I just couldn't continue. My parents meant well, so I don't want to blame them (after all, they understood the situation even less than I did), but their questioning of why I couldn't put in the effort so much of the time was just such a torturous question because I didn't know, and I kept asking myself the same thing all the time. Why am I like this? Why can't I do the work? The parts I don't understand are one thing, but why can't I even bring myself to try sometimes? Why is it that I have work in other classes that should be easy and yet I just... don't do it.

    I want to succeed, why can't I force my lazy ass to just do the work? Why am I so fucking pathetic?! What's wrong with me????!!!

    Somewhere along the line, I came to the realization that that last question is a legitimately good one to ask. I did a bit of thinking about the fact that, even when I was incredibly stressed to do work and really really wanted to get it done, I couldn't force myself to get through it, even when it was easy stuff that I could understand just fine in class. I started to think that such a strong desire to do the work probably wasn't a trait of laziness, and that, for some reason, I just couldn't keep my mind focused on the work that I had to do, no matter how badly I wanted to do it, which seemed... not right.

    And, wow, I am so glad I talked to a professional about all this. That's when I got the diagnosis, which was a huge weight off my shoulders. I didn't have to keep blaming myself for everything -- I had a very good reason for not being able to focus and get work done, and it wasn't mere laziness on my part. And then I was prescribed medication, and, holy balls, I cannot even describe to you just how amazing it felt to, for the first time in my life, really, have the necessary level of mental clarity to just sit down and focus and get shit done -- I wasn't getting distracted, I wasn't zoning out, none of that -- I just sat the fuck down and did my fucking work, and it felt great. Assignments that I would've previously struggled to get done for a good two weeks were suddenly something that I could complete almost in their entirety in just one or two work sessions. I was utterly inspired by my own capabilities. All my easy classes? Got the homework done without any issues, grades shot up into the 90's in no time. AP classes? Well, the medication didn't exactly grant me a perfect understanding of physics, but it did allow me to actually focus on getting the homework done, which was a crucial first step towards actually understanding the material. I didn't see the same immediate improvement there as I did in some of my other classes, but, I definitely felt like I was getting better. The class never really stopped being challenging, but, at least it stopped being soul-crushing. The meds aren't a cure-all and they have their own side effects, but they certainly take the edge off my symptoms, and, along with an awareness of my disorder, they did wonders for both my performance and my self-esteem.

    I was probably happier with myself in the years following that than I ever was in middle school and high school prior to it, especially for the first half of junior year when everything was at its absolute worst. It was definitely my lowest point -- feeling significantly hindered by a mental disorder but not knowing that it was a disorder and, as a result, blaming everything on myself, and just feeling so shitty about my shortcomings -- feeling helpless but not knowing how to help myself because I just couldn't seem to do anything about all my worst qualities, things that I grew to hate about myself, until I finally learned that I didn't need to blame myself like that, which is a very nice thing to know.

    So, uh... yeah, long rant. But, with a topic that's had such a profound impact on my life, there's certainly a lot to talk about, lol. XD At least this story had a happy ending. I don't know where I'd be in life if it wasn't for that. o.o Man, what a nightmare college would be... I probably would've flunked out by now. @_@ Ah well, not something that I need to worry about, at any rate. XD I may still rant and whine about my lingering ADD-related insecurities from time to time, but, I'm still way better off than I was back then, which I am incredibly grateful for.
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  14. This will seem pretty petty, but it was significant for me.

    Dated a girl for 7 years, who left me after she found out she was pregnant from another guy just a few months before she dumped me.

    Dated another girl, 4 years, (though kind of on and off), who pretty much did the exact some thing.

    Sucks man. Sucks.
  15. I will do a quick list, cause I am old and i have a lifetime movie life. =___=

    - There is the time my grandmother tried to have me and my brother taken away by child services. I don't even know what triggered that cause things weren't terrible then. c___c

    - That time my grandmother was waving a gun around and threatened my grandad. e__e

    - That time she came all the way to Georgia from Alabama just to have a fight with my mom and I had to run past her strangling mom to go get my dad and grandpa. @___@

    - There was some pretty nasty beatings from Mom until I got big enough to hit back.

    - Many years of mental abuse. >:/

    - That time my grandma kicked me out of the family and banned me from her house because my escort to a dance was a black guy. e___e I got home from the dance that night to find all my stuff packed and by the door.

    - My dad ended up descending in to alcoholism and was a huge troll when he was drunk. Which would then set off my mom and they'd have nasty fights that would end with holes in the walls and stuff broken. One night mom took a hammer to the computer and dad kicked a hole in the tv, while my brother and I sat on the driveway eating dinner and waiting for it to end. x__x

    - There's the time mom tried to kill herself!

    - There's that whole rapey mcmolesting incident when I was 14. >:/

    - My uncle wound up with HIV because of tainted hemophilia medication and he died. ;__; This could happen to my brother too. He's already gotten hepatitis because of tainted meds.

    - There's that time -I- tried to kill myself!

    And all of that happened before I was 18. >> By the time I got to my twenties I was slowly getting more control over my life and who was in it.
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  16. 7 years lost to a girlfriends cheating isn't petty. That's rough.
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  17. I am very sorry to hear that.
  18. Mainly a few bigger moments.

    1. When my mother got a bad batch of pills for 3 years, causing her to become exactly what she never wanted to be. That on top of her MS in her legs made things REALLY tough for everybody. She was quite manipulative during that time period, so I had to constantly see through manipulations and since we were living at my grandmothers at the time, I decided to help her with allot of things too as she had to deal with things more than I did. She just could never catch a break. All she wanted to do was be independent, work for her own money, have a job, hopefully with art as a career one day. But things just kept happening. After I was born, something happened to where she only had 5 minutes of activity. So she worked HARD to bring her endurance back, went to college, and eventually got back to (Mostly) better. A few things afterwards I forgot, then MS struck her legs, removing her walking entirely. But she didn't give up even then. She worked hard to get her balance and muscle back. Walking when she could, working on balance. And just as she started to see improvement, some major mental thing happened which had to do with a pill change for 3 years.

    This one song heavily reminds of of that period, especially the "Unbreakable, I'm breaking now" Unshakable, I'm shaking now" "You're making me open my eyes in twisted nightmares, watch every part of me fade i'm not there. Don't follow me down, I don't want to be found"
    "My never ending loneliness entangling a great abyss
    And I remember all the times I laughed away, now sit and cry"

    (She used to be someone where you can tell her a problem, and she'll know it and try to fix it. So I tried to explain to her exactly her behavior, but all that did was get her more pissed off) She also kept trying to leave to nowhere, thinking she had somewhere to go but she woulda ended up dying on the streets if she wasn't constantly found. And the other 2 lines, she isolated herself heavily to a point of probably legit insanity, and she would cry fairly often due to how much her life sucked now compared to back then.

    The song
    Show Spoiler


    2. My cat dying from this jaw tumor. That was quite difficult for me. He could barely eat for a while, and eventually he couldn't eat due to the pain. I don't think i'll ever get over that.

    Both my mother and my cat basically had their lives robbed. My cat still had at least 2 more years to go, and my mother is one of the few people I can say EARNED an amazing life. Everyone deserve a good life, but I don't see too many of us who truly earns it these days. I myself haven't truly earned a good life in my eyes, I've been given everything so far. (Not that i'm complaining o.o)
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