My mom must've found out somehow about my self-injury, suicidal thoughts, and depression. She told me that I was going to the doctor's for a physical because the insurance company kept nagging her about it. But, today, she was on the phone with my grandmother saying, "Yeah, sure, we'll come over right after I take Mike to the therapist.". That means I'm going to see a therapist. I wonder how she found out. I'm leaving in about 20 minutes. What do I do? gonk;
BECOME AN HERO
Quote from: JMV290 on April 20, 2007, 09:57:10 AM
BECOME AN HERO
Seriously, I'm scared. I don't want to go to a therapist. gonk;
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 09:59:20 AM
Quote from: JMV290 on April 20, 2007, 09:57:10 AM
BECOME AN HERO
Seriously, I'm scared. I don't want to go to a therapist. gonk;
MAYBE IT WILL BE DR. KONO
EMO;
LOL, YOU CUT YOURSELF.
Quote from: Pele on April 20, 2007, 11:45:07 AM
EMO;
LOL, YOU CUT YOURSELF.
I don't cut myself, I scrape/scratch/slash my skin with my pencil with the lead in.
What is there to be scared about? Just answer the guys questions. You're not suicidal anymore, are you? suicide;
Quote from: The Original V on April 20, 2007, 12:19:56 PM
What is there to be scared about? Just answer the guys questions. You're not suicidal anymore, are you? suicide;
Sort of. I get really depressed and sometimes want to die.
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 12:21:46 PM
Quote from: The Original V on April 20, 2007, 12:19:56 PM
What is there to be scared about? Just answer the guys questions. You're not suicidal anymore, are you? suicide;
Sort of. I get really depressed and sometimes want to die.
Hurry up and get it over with.
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 12:21:46 PM
Quote from: The Original V on April 20, 2007, 12:19:56 PM
What is there to be scared about? Just answer the guys questions. You're not suicidal anymore, are you? suicide;
Sort of. I get really depressed and sometimes want to die.
Here is some advice:Break out of that shit. You don't want to die. That means you're fucking weak. Look your problems in the face, and get over them. You have it better than most people in this world. Don't go throwing it away. Kthxbai. flower;
Okay, I just got back. I didn't go to a therapist, I went to the doctor's like she said I would. But, I didn't go to my grandparents' house. "Yeah, sure, we'll come over right after I take Mike to the therapist." I think I might still have to worry about it. She says that we have to leave again in a half hour. gonk;
Therapist...?
You know theres a space between those words right? spam;
Quote from: xfollowthereaperx on April 20, 2007, 02:31:44 PM
Therapist...?
You know theres a space between those words right? spam;
Yes, but I only know one person who is a rapist, GCD333. And he doesn't want to rape me, as I am a guy and he is a guy.
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 02:38:11 PM
Quote from: xfollowthereaperx on April 20, 2007, 02:31:44 PM
Therapist...?
You know theres a space between those words right? spam;
Yes, but I only know one person who is a rapist, GCD333. And he doesn't want to rape me, as I am a guy and he is a guy.
You've never heard of prison rape before? cybor;
Quote from: silverhawk79 on April 20, 2007, 02:39:02 PM
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 02:38:11 PM
Quote from: xfollowthereaperx on April 20, 2007, 02:31:44 PM
Therapist...?
You know theres a space between those words right? spam;
Yes, but I only know one person who is a rapist, GCD333. And he doesn't want to rape me, as I am a guy and he is a guy.
You've never heard of prison rape before? cybor;
Well, who the hell wants to rape a fucking guy?
what you do is act completely normal and have alot of patience
It turns out that I didn't go. But I'm still fearful about tomorrow.
I may have to go.
I'll just tell my story, and hope I can get help.
I assume most already know my story.
If you need me to post it, just tell me. I don't have any problems posting it.
Just tell him straight, he can't do anything.
hopefully the therapist will help you.
Oh, and, may god be with you caterpie;
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 05:52:21 PM
It turns out that I didn't go. But I'm still fearful about tomorrow.
I may have to go.
I'll just tell my story, and hope I can get help.
I assume most already know my story.
If you need me to post it, just tell me. I don't have any problems posting it.
I'd like to hear it psyduck;
Quote from: xfollowthereaperx on April 20, 2007, 06:59:57 PM
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 05:52:21 PM
It turns out that I didn't go. But I'm still fearful about tomorrow.
I may have to go.
I'll just tell my story, and hope I can get help.
I assume most already know my story.
If you need me to post it, just tell me. I don't have any problems posting it.
I'd like to hear it psyduck;
Okay. Imagine that you are a three-year-old, with a perfect life.
So, I am a three-year-old. As happy as can be. I am living my wonderful life in a house with my mom and dad. Well, my dad was late from coming home from work. This was because he had a doctor's appointment. He apparently had neck pain. That's why he was late. So, when he came home, he was tearing up. He told us that he had cancer. Lymphoma. He was going to die. I didn't realize what cancer was. I was fine with it, and lived my life like nothing was wrong.
Then, my grandpa died of cancer. This frightened my dad. It also placed a lot of stress on him.
I was now four. My mom was smiling so much one day. It was because Daddy's cancer had gone away! He was now in remission and was getting better! I was indifferent about the whole thing, because I didn't realize the dangers. I lived my life as a happy four year old, when we found out that my grandma had emphysema. Daddy was then very stressed, which caused the cancer to come back, with a bang.
At this point, I was 5. My dad received chemo and radiation to help with the cancer. He was so sick that he couldn't even make and pour a glass of his delicious chocolate milk. He was sent to a treatment center in Maryland. We lived there for a week with him. It was fun.
When we got home, I started going to kindergarten. I was so ecstatic on the days when Daddy would come with Mommy to pick me up. Then, came the dreaded days.
During Winter Break, Daddy got very sick. On Friday, he couldn't eat. On Saturday, he couldn't go down the stairs. On Sunday, he couldn't get out of bed. On Monday, Mommy found him dead.
I woke up that day just as I would any other day. I went downstairs, and said hi to my mom and my aunt. My mom was crying. "Your daddy's dead." was all that she could mutter. I didn't cry. She took me upstairs to see him. I hugged him, but I was scared to kiss him. It was scary.
Then, after we buried him, my grandma died. I didn't cry either.
We then moved away from Virginia, to a better place. I never saw any of my friends again. I don't have many friends now. I never went back.
When I was 6, I had a reality check. I realized that Daddy was never coming home. I cried. And I still do to this day.
What caused my depression was me blaming myself for his death. The self-mutilation and suicidal thoughts started after the depression.
This is why I need help
This is why I need to see a therapist.
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 10:03:41 PM
Okay. Imagine that you are a three-year-old, with a perfect life.
So, I am a three-year-old. As happy as can be. I am living my wonderful life in a house with my mom and dad. Well, my dad was late from coming home from work. This was because he had a doctor's appointment. He apparently had neck pain. That's why he was late. So, when he came home, he was tearing up. He told us that he had cancer. Lymphoma. He was going to die. I didn't realize what cancer was. I was fine with it, and lived my life like nothing was wrong.
Then, my grandpa died of cancer. This frightened my dad. It also placed a lot of stress on him.
I was now four. My mom was smiling so much one day. It was because Daddy's cancer had gone away! He was now in remission and was getting better! I was indifferent about the whole thing, because I didn't realize the dangers. I lived my life as a happy four year old, when we found out that my grandma had emphysema. Daddy was then very stressed, which caused the cancer to come back, with a bang.
At this point, I was 5. My dad received chemo and radiation to help with the cancer. He was so sick that he couldn't even make and pour a glass of his delicious chocolate milk. He was sent to a treatment center in Maryland. We lived there for a week with him. It was fun.
When we got home, I started going to kindergarten. I was so ecstatic on the days when Daddy would come with Mommy to pick me up. Then, came the dreaded days.
During Winter Break, Daddy got very sick. On Friday, he couldn't eat. On Saturday, he couldn't go down the stairs. On Sunday, he couldn't get out of bed. On Monday, Mommy found him dead.
I woke up that day just as I would any other day. I went downstairs, and said hi to my mom and my aunt. My mom was crying. "Your daddy's dead." was all that she could mutter. I didn't cry. She took me upstairs to see him. I hugged him, but I was scared to kiss him. It was scary.
Then, after we buried him, my grandma died. I didn't cry either.
We then moved away from Virginia, to a better place. I never saw any of my friends again. I don't have many friends now. I never went back.
When I was 6, I had a reality check. I realized that Daddy was never coming home. I cried. And I still do to this day.
What caused my depression was me blaming myself for his death. The self-mutilation and suicidal thoughts started after the depression.
This is why I need help
This is why I need to see a therapist.
I understand that that stuff is very difficult for you and I could never understand what you went through. But I'd like to point out that there are much worse things that have happened to people. My dad's mother killed herself (Hanged) when he was only five years old.
He thought it was because he borrowed 5 cents from her about a week before.
When he was twelve, his older brother who was about 18 at the time, his name was Art and literary got my family's business started, died by falling asleep at the wheel.
I don't know much about death since the closest person to me who died to me was my uncle, which was the best uncle a person can have, he had a very distinct laugh and along with Art, started my family's business from the start. They invented those spinning hydro things. Heres a picture
(http://www.deleonirrigation.com/0d580af0.jpg)
Those were invented by my uncle and his brother, who are both gone now. Without them our family wouldn't have been even close to where we are now.
I'm sorry about all of that stuff but you can only try and make your life better.
Make your father proud dood
flower;
Sad story is sad. poppy;
All you do in Therapy is answer questions and eat yummy treats. caterpie; Then they use EMDR on you so the painful memories go away, or make you less depressed.
My father's mother was murdered when he was about three. His father was murdered when he was about five. He had to live with his aunt or something who stealed everything he ever earned. He even saved up hundreds of dollars for a Commodore 64, and one of his sisters sold it the next day for drug money. Also, during his childhood, one of his sisters was raped by one of her brothers. He got in a car crash while drunk driving and had the choice of either joining the Marine Corps or going to jail.
My life hasn't been much better, and I've had loads of deaths in the family, but not once did I cry. powerofone;
My Mom is probably going to make me go to the shrink too if she finds I'm the most hated person on the internet psyduck;
Quote from: Zack777 on April 20, 2007, 10:23:01 PM
My Mom is probably going to make me go to the shrink too if she finds I'm the most hated person on the internet psyduck;
You're not the most hated.
There are a few people hated more than you.
Quote from: JMV290 on April 20, 2007, 10:24:21 PM
Quote from: Zack777 on April 20, 2007, 10:23:01 PM
My Mom is probably going to make me go to the shrink too if she finds I'm the most hated person on the internet psyduck;
You're not the most hated.
There are a few people hated more than you.
A few?
Maybe two.
Quote from: mariofreak55 on April 20, 2007, 10:27:44 PM
Quote from: JMV290 on April 20, 2007, 10:24:21 PM
Quote from: Zack777 on April 20, 2007, 10:23:01 PM
My Mom is probably going to make me go to the shrink too if she finds I'm the most hated person on the internet psyduck;
You're not the most hated.
There are a few people hated more than you.
A few?
Maybe two.
Mariofreak08934256034567053487683546784953678345907608954367
Jeremy110
caterpie;
Quote from: Lawlz on April 20, 2007, 10:30:22 PM
Quote from: mariofreak55 on April 20, 2007, 10:27:44 PM
Quote from: JMV290 on April 20, 2007, 10:24:21 PM
Quote from: Zack777 on April 20, 2007, 10:23:01 PM
My Mom is probably going to make me go to the shrink too if she finds I'm the most hated person on the internet psyduck;
You're not the most hated.
There are a few people hated more than you.
A few?
Maybe two.
Mariofreak08934256034567053487683546784953678345907608954367
Jeremy110
caterpie;
wut bout jack thompson?
hope you feel better
Quote from: Lozal on April 20, 2007, 09:40:25 AM
My mom must've found out somehow about my self-injury, suicidal thoughts, and depression. She told me that I was going to the doctor's for a physical because the insurance company kept nagging her about it. But, today, she was on the phone with my grandmother saying, "Yeah, sure, we'll come over right after I take Mike to the therapist.". That means I'm going to see a therapist. I wonder how she found out. I'm leaving in about 20 minutes. What do I do? gonk;
Attempt to look/sound normal during the session..... Or at least play it off as teen philosophy v;
Quote from: Zack777 on April 20, 2007, 10:23:01 PM
My Mom is probably going to make me go to the shrink too if she finds I'm the most hated person on the internet psyduck;
I hate you.
hgra;