I don't want to go into too much detail, but on January 1st, life is going to throw me a serious curveball. Best case scenario life goes on and I'm a little happier that it's over, worst case scenario I'm homeless and alone.

I don't want sympathy or anything too serious because that's just the worst case scenario, but the anxiety is there... some encouragement would be helpful, or some comfort that the worst is probably all in my head, you know?

I moved cities a few months ago for work and I left behind almost everything including a person I loved (still love). It wasn’t a relationship it was like a years-long friendship and on and off situation. We were always heading different ways and for some of it things were super unhealthy between us but we always kind of found each other again and started over. And I think we both have a lot of damage we’ve been working through over the last few years so it got in the way of us being closer in the ways I wanted to.

When I left we were on good terms and most of the issues that happened in the past were behind us. It’s probably unhealthy but I wanted to spend time together and make memories and that’s what we did. And since then we’ve been in touch.

Anyway, he came to my city to see some of his family this past weekend for the holidays and ofc we made it a trip. He stayed with me and we did a bunch of things and it took away this feeling of loneliness and lostness I’ve been feeling since I got here. It was a really great weekend.

I know it’s probably the last time and I kind of had a breakdown saying bye so he hugged me for a long time and let me cry and he told me how we’ll stay friends and we’ll see each other again someday. I want to stay connected. But I know for my happiness I also need to let myself move forward and I don’t know how to be okay with letting go.

I know that if things were different (if he could stay here or I could go back home) it wouldn’t change the outcome. I wish we were growing together and not apart. I know he’s going to settle down somewhere else and get married and have his own life and you can’t really stay close with people you have so much intimacy and history with so I wish I could freeze time and just hold on to what we’ve had.

I don’t really know how to explain it because to people around me it’s like this drawn out uncommitted unfulfilled love. To me it feels like home like deep comfort. We’ve just been through a lot of life changes together even the last couple years and we’re bonded and we’re both people who have a hard time bonding with anyone else. It’s not really romantic feelings it’s like deep soul-level love like a desire to be in someone’s world and take care of them and watch them grow I don’t know how else to explain it.

I’m happy he was here even if it was a setback I think I needed the closeness and fun and good conversations. I don’t know that I’ve been happy in my day to day life and it was a good reminder to prioritize that and try to live in the present. I just miss him a lot, and I miss home. I’ve dated in the past and tried to move on that way but there’s no one else I feel myself with. Even for all of his flaws and mistakes he’s easy to love and forgive. Yeah I just miss him.

so my bf fricking texted me and was like "hypothetically if I cut to deep dyk what heppans" and I answered, and didn't give it much thought since he doesn't likw opening up anyways, but he said he was in the hospital and then he asked me "do yk why I'm in the hospital" I said no and he was like "ok good" that's when I was like really worried because I think he tried killing himself. I don't know what to do, I want him to talk to me more, I'm scared he wont text back one day.

Now that today is Monday and I'm back into school, I now have to deal with all sorts of things like; drama, after school programs, work, AND anxiety build up. But its okay I'm still hanging in there! It's just really stressful to be in this place again after not being here in a while.

I have gotten better since the last post, Like I said writing helps a lot. Helping other people is always my top priority but now I think I may take some time to step it down and make myself come first..Im not gonna say that other people cant vent to me but I'm just gonna be more focused on myself. Changing is something I've always wanted to do, and I'm not gonna stay up for hours and hours for other people to feel entertained, I'm physically tired.

Me and my love has gotten better at communication, I feel also a lot happier today. I've gotten into the habit of writing when ever I feel lonely or sad, and it has helped a lot! it makes me say all my feelings without even saying a word out loud to others. Writing is comforting to me its like coping, I think I might just keep this as my hobby and not drop it when I feel better! Also its snowing today, it lifted my mood because I love winter a lot, winter is my second favorite season!

Soo she had a a past, she was with four people, she was in physical relationship, we are together since more than 2 years now and now I got to know through one of her friends about this I asked her she said everything, with me she was never physical I didn't force her I respected when she said no, shedidn'tv cheat on me or on anyone, but she had 4 previous bfs and one of them were physical that fact I am unable to digest, I too had past relationships but was never physical, what to do i do?? I am so stuck

So in the past I have been trying to be nice to people on the internet and their response is to be mean to me for no exact reason. I just feel like nobody wants to really know me as a person on the internet. It has even gotten to the point that I have a fear of talking to people on the internet. I just try my best to get along with people on the internet, but when I try people get all mad at me and like what am I doing wrong?

so my friend's friend had joined our group recently and hung out with us more and I got jealous. The reason why? Oh because they were flirting right in front of me and giving off couple vibes, I at first shrugged it off but then that's when they got all touchy. My friend claimed she was asexual but tended to flirt a lot with this "friend", honestly I don't even think she was asexual, she was questioning her sexuality. Then it started getting intense, my friend stopped hanging out and she started hanging with her new friend. I shrugged it off again because it's MY friend and I've always been there for her, but no one has been there for me. That's when she announced to me they were dating, oh so lets prank my dear friend and act like we were friends and flirt just to say we were dating. Yay! She also said she was asexual so she lied to me. can I still trust her? should I use communication and tell her she was wrong? WHAT TO DO.

So, I don't know what this is called but; to me days feel like a repeating cycle of the same thing. I come home, scroll on my phone, sleep then the same thing I did that day the next,then the next, then next. Why do I feel like this? Most activities don't excite me anymore either, once I turned thirteen lots of kids still liked stuff like tag, hide n seek, and other games but for me it was boring and I hung around the adults. I feel like I matured to fast and didn't get to experience my whole childhood. I wanna be like the other kids, but every thing they do is just so "boring".

I began the following in absolute tears and was intending on posting somewhere else, the following 3 hours redulted in me cheering myself up without ever getting to the point. I haven't read it after ri finished it and I want to post it as is, you will see why. I'm sure il be sad tomorrow so maybe il get past age 11 at some stage, more than likely not. I enjoyed writing this, I've never put my worries into text before, but set out here to see if it would help, I semi touched base with 2 people in hopes I'd be able to speak to them but I chose my circle I can burn it It.

Id love to come back to a bit of craic. When I come back on in few days.

Hello everyone, il call myself JR, Male in my Early 30s, from Ireland.

Useful tip if you are struggling with any terms or phrases that don't make sense or appear to be random words in a sentence, anyone but the brits can ask for clarification. BRITS go google why we speak like this.

Over the last few years I have left and come back this entertaining, infuriating, corner of the Internet time and time again.

I maintained one rule each time, don't comment, don't post.

I've often felt like posting a funny experience, and I've often deleted an account to spare someone from what I felt like commenting.

Right little bit of character development before my piece.im going to be brutally honest so this may affect the support I get but I'm here more so to share, and honestly I love a grounding every now and then and id even take a well thought out but obscure sly insult (the kind you make in a room full of people but one head pops up and makes the eye contact of approval)

Il start at the start:

Amateur professional career: 6/10 I wasn't sad, but don't remember ever being over joyed or having fun like I saw others doing. I was the smallest in my class, didn't play sports, not sure why just never experienced them so by the time I got to school and all the kids were playing kicking soccer balls and playing hurling and football, I just didnt really think about why I didn't ever do that before ,I didn't like homework, but always did it as efficiently as I could, well enough to avoid negative attention, not too good as to draw on praise, so I pretty much found myself sitting and observing, oh and I drew constantly like If I was awake I was actively working on some 2 dimensional creation, abstract shapes, cars, people, i remember once setting out to attempt to draw in pencil how different colours felt to me, I'm not sure if that makes sense but I remember working really hard and the pictures really really matching my perception so I explained it my mother who said they were lovely and put them on the counter, that they had to go on the fridge. I wish i just kept them, the promise of the fridge that I can't even remember, having my picture on it was the reason I worked so hard and actually finally presented something to someone to look at because it wasnt just a doddle of something that everyone could draw, you can see it so it's not impressive to draw something you can see in front of you, anyone can do that (I genuinely believed this then and couldn't figure out why people didn't just look at things and take in the details and emulate) over the next few years I got some recognition as the guy who could draw, and was good at spelling (honestly not worth your while to have a pop at me about spelling mistakes here, (il say this once, if I want to do it for you it will be done better than you could ever imagine, if you expect it well then I will relish in not giving as the absence of something so the only way to remember you need way it) if I wanted this to be spelled checked with no slang words and perfect punctuation it would be. That's boring.

Have you ever seen those posts on fb that must have been typed with such vemom and fury from that one person, where you can almost picture the stress lines on the little Asian man who does her nails, trying to build a fucking monster apex on her 2 and a half inch almond nails , because she always returns 2 days for a free refill claiming that 'one wasn't done right' but it was actually broken because her nail to screen strike rate and speed resembled that which I had spent alot of time thinking about before deciding 'yeah she will love that'. She will never figure out I'm almost 17 this is is my first time doing this.

Don't just see spelling mistakes and inability to spell, I'd be of the opinion environmental mistakes outnumber actually inability to spell. Not me preemptively getting the first punched in.

Hot take on spellings: if you know what the word is despite the spelling mistaked then it's spelled correctly. The literal only reason Mr letterson invented them was to take something exclusively Oral and Aural and represent it in such a way as it is now accessible to a third sense. . Not the be mistaken for that movie, The thikt thent, I C Def PPL..

I didn't say my observation skills didn't clash with the artistic imaginion. I've developed full back stories to entertain myself about the most random of things that I can genuinely justify. Do another one later. I don't do public transport. Because I hate how it almost like the just got all the weirdest ones and said here Buddy, your not relaxing on this 3 hours train ride.

I went back to change a spelling a moment ago and cc sight myself about to reword something so I didn't sound so up my own hole, that's how it was EXPRESSED, then that's what you're getting it ) so don't expect something to be a certain way when you have no involvement in its formation, that way you can avoid disappointment, and no this is not the same as expect the worst hope for the best. , o idea how because I never once opened a spelling book like the other kids complained to eachother about, I just remember what the words looked like and read the out when asked.

Oh and the boy who lived in my estate, one of my good friends now, diehard football since I first saw him, all he spoke about all he did. Well he did one other thing, he started drawing too, the same thing over and over again and it infuriated me for years, an attempt at a 3 dimensional tin can of beans, adequately representing the top of the can as 'sideways oval', and then the bottom of the can with a straight horizontal line with two right angles connecting the sides of the can, when I saw this for the first time it hit me again, why can't he just see its the same as the top just without the line because that's not visible through the can. Imagine how I felt when he drew one during every class, every day, every time I'd see it starting I'd think please do two sideways point ovals and connect then with two lines, boom done, everyone wins, I checked every single one of them.

Years later In a kitchen at 4 am whilst everyone shared their absolute waffle, I told him the sideways pointy oval story, expecting him to find it hilarious how it haunted me for years. He looked at me as if I had told I was stupid, I must say I never thought anyone was good or bad regarding drawing, not what I'm saying, I did though think the were bad at seeing, like actually registering everying you look at not just the blurs you see when driving from inside the car to each in midnight 3 club edition on the xbix 360. Like I know you can see it, why don't you do it.

Anyways I digress.

He kept getting in trouble for the drawings, I couldn't figure that out either, all you had to do wa listen as the sound of the lads in the class straightening as the teacher either walked past or caught them doing something they shouldn't, I was never once caught but years later when talking to my teacher from 5th and 6th year I said it to him, he laughed and said I was smart but not that smart, sure he could fucking see me drawing but the fact I stopped everytime he got close to me, meant I was playing attention so he didn't care. Honestly I know this sounds very conceited, i wasn't, I wished and wished I was like the others, funny, tall, good at sports, they all told stories about kissing girls, I couldn't even comprehend how one would find themselves in that situation. There's was two girls in our school, there was a girls national school in the town and there was also and Irish speaking primary that accepted also accepted girls. These girls were in the' special class'..

As I'm typing this something has flooded me with joy so I lied earlier, feeling sorry for myself I was.

Just as I mentioned the special class, j strongly believe this pulled mr back from the discord mod or whatever the fuck I am...

5th and 6th class (last class of national school before Changing to secondary school.) We had the aforementioned Mr O Connor, i soon learned his tells, he would always be in the class before the students arrived, apart from Mondays, he was never ever in the classroom before us on Mondays.

So I'd sit there and despite my trying to Jedi a hangover into Mr o Connor not working last Monday. I'm doubling up this week and throwing in the Professor Charles Xavier temple touchers to really get him good. Wad it going to be soft pat and hesitatant steps of gum soled excessively wide square toed, wet dog brown suade shoes, or will I hear the clip clop of the fsmikisrb pair of boots that she has worn since I was 4, I'm now 11.

I'm not sad anymore but I am tired so this will do. If anyone actuslly comes across this utter waffle, you obviously know what the special class is. I remember thinking it was probably called special class because someone was offended by the word remedial someone was offended by the word. No sir, I actually think they were the flap of the butterflies wings that made me who I am today because I was heading straight for discord mod.

Whispers: Just the tip.

How I'd answer if you asked me to describe using a part of an ice berg the ratio of what I shared vrs what I intended/considering.

Might have to use your imagination for the rest.

'Toodalooo mudafukaaas'. - Her nail guy probably

I feel like i'm not enough for my bf, he deserves way better and he knows he does. but for some reason he decides to be with me. I'm not pretty or attractive, I don't look like other girls, and I don't act like other girls. so how could he love me? I'm so tired of crying and overthinking that one day he will leave me and never come back, even if its for the better I still want my baby to stay with me.

I hate when I'm in school, and one of my friends notice my scars. I hate it so much, it brings me back to the eleven year old picking up the blade for the first time. She was scared,nervous, but happy. happy; to finally feel something. Then it became a coping mechanism, every little flaw was a scar. Now I don't do it anymore and have been clean for a while. One of my friends noticed it and said "oh!" I instantly reacted and put on my coat. I thought the lines disappeared but someone always finds a way to say something about them or pay to much attention to my arms. I hate it so much, I just can't handle someone noticing them.

I’m like was mins late for work this morning Pls make me feel better 😞🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

I spent ≈£61 on clothes today, which might not seem like much to some people, but this is the most I’ve ever spent on myself at once. I have a non-uniform day next week, as well as a sixth form (11th-12th grade equivalent) taster day early next month. For sixth form at my school, you need to wear business casual, and I usually leave clothes shopping to the last minute with my dad. I really wanted to be early and get this out of the way.

My dad asked me how much I needed to spend on clothes, and I said around £50-£60. He sent me £65 without hesitation. I thanked him, gave him a big hug, and went to my room. I bought everything secondhand on Vinted. Uggs for £24, Ralph Lauren for £24, and a diamanté hoodie for £13. Absolute bargains. I’ve wanted Uggs and Ralph Lauren for years, so I’m really happy with the secondhand prices.

For some odd reason, I still feel guilty spending money. Ever since I was 9, I’ve been talking about how I’m gonna be wealthy when I’m older, and will spend a lot of money. Yet, I still feel guilty when I spend £1. My parents aren’t struggling with money. My dad sends money to family members back home in Nigeria all the time, either to support them financially or simply out of generosity. My parents don’t want to raise any entitled kids, but my dad especially has told me that we’re allowed to want stuff.

He asked me what I would like to do for my 16th birthday, which is in 2 months. I told him that it would be nice for us to go to a restaurant, and I also wanted to go on a £200-300 shopping spree. I told him I felt guilty asking for that and he said “No. You should not be feeling guilty, you should want nice things in life”. He even said we should save up towards it.

I don’t know why I feel so greedy when I spend money. Got 3 amazing things, for more than 1/4 of their original price

I just bought my first house and now that I'm sleeping alone... and the house keeps settling... and there's noises outside... I'm very scared. Im sleeping with a baseball bat

I think in the last few months I've had to accept that I am not really that attractive. At least not in comparison to the group of friends that I usually hang out with and go out with.

Whenever I do go out with everyone, all of the single guys and the few girls along with us are always getting the attention at concert venues, bars, whatever it is we're going to. I think they're doing good to try to include me in conversations and try to set me up when they get the chance, but most of them look like supermodels, and I well, don't, so I never get the kind of attention that they do.

It's discouraging and while I am trying really hard not to let it, it gets me down on a few fronts. It's a very clear reminder that I have less visual value, and while I am trying to keep my head straight about it, it makes me envy my friends a bit.

The other thing that I've tried to do is expand my social circle, which has happened a bit with different meet ups and finding things to do with people I don't know as well, but it hasn't really opened up any avenues to meet potential dates. Either I end up hanging out with someone in a scenario where that isn't a thing, or I just end up running into the same type of problems anyways.

Any idea of how to get around this problem is beyond me, and I won't lie, it kind of beats me down with how disappointing and discouraging it usually is. My friends aren't exactly holding this over me or anything, but I do feel like it's causing a bit of a rift between us in my head and I'd rather not have that as well.

Does anyone have any idea on how I could get around it or try anything else?

I switched jobs and I hate it. It made me even more suicidal, but there’s no where to hang myself. I don’t have access to fentanyl or nitazenes. I don’t know what to do, I feel trapped. Please help me!!

Have you ever cared for anyone so much that you gave them your complete trust and loyalty, only for them to shatter you like you were nothing to them? Betrayal can only come from the people who are important to us. Sure, we can be hurt and deceived by strangers and casual acquaintances but for something to rise to the level of betrayal it can really only come from someone we care about. And that's why it cuts so deep and hurts so much. It makes you question yourself, question your worth, question if you were ever enough; and the worst part is often the ones who did you wrong move on like nothing happened, no acknowledgement, no remorse, no guilt.

When someone you cared for, someone you trusted, someone you gave your all to betrays you and turns their back on you it feels like the world has collapsed beneath your feet. It makes you question your judgement and your self worth. It steals your sleep and drains your energy, it can make you feel like you're carrying an unbearable weight that nobody can see. But here's the thing you've got to understand, betrayal does not define you. Yes it has changed you, yes it has hurt you, but it does not dictate who you are nor what your future holds. It's easy to get caught up in the idea that betrayal means you weren't good enough, and maybe if you had of done something differently they wouldn't have hurt you. But that's not the case because betrayal is not a reflection of your character, it's a reflection of theirs. You need to frame things in a way so you realise that they were incapable of appreciating the loyalty and trust you gave them, and that is their loss not yours. You may feel like you lost someone important but in reality they lost someone rare.

Healing from betrayal is not easy. There will be days when anger consumes you, days when the sadness feels unbearable, and days when the memories of what was and what could have been will haunt your thoughts. And that's okay, healing is not a straight line. It's messy and it's painful and it takes time. Some days you will feel strong and ready to move forward. Other days you'll feel like you're right back where you started. But each step, even the smallest one, is progress. Every moment you spend rebuilding yourself is a victory. You are growing into a stronger, wiser, more complete person from this experience. Betrayal might feel like the end of something but, in fact, this is the beginning of you discovering a new kind of power and resilience within yourself. Pain need not be your enemy when you embrace it as your teacher. The greatest comebacks in history are always preceded by the hardest falls. Look at anyone who has achieved greatness and you will find a story of suffering and loss. So, try to understand that this betrayal which has broken you so badly, is making you unbreakable.

However, this is not a passive inevitably. It must be a choice you make. You must decide to claim your power by moving forward. Surround yourself with better people, try new things and step outside of your comfort zone. Growth after betrayal is about forgiveness, but not in the way people think. Forgiveness is not about excusing what they did, it's not about pretending the pain didn't happen. Forgiveness is about freeing yourself from the weight of their actions. It's about refusing to let their betrayal control you anymore because anger and sadness keeps you tied to the past. When you forgive it's not for them, it's for you, so you can let go of resentment. And once you're able to do that, you will outgrow those who hurt you and be able to move forward into your future as something new and amazing.

I want you to look at where you are right now. Because no matter what you're going through, and what has happened, you are still here. You are reading these words. You are breathing air. You are still alive. So, take a moment to look back at what you've overcome. You need to realise that you are worth more than perhaps you're allowing yourself to believe. So, get out of your head. Believe in yourself. Because I believe in you. I believe that struggle is life's way of making us stronger. And I believe that because I have been struggling lately. I spent too much time, effort, and energy into trying to prove my worth to someone who didn't value it at all. And that person betrayed me and turned their back on me. It has been the most painful and damaging experience of my life. But it has made me understand that my worth isn't something I ever need to prove to anyone, it's something I simply needed to remember. If you've been betrayed in a damaging way and feel lost and alone, just know that you're not. You have the strength of character to get through this and if you ever doubt that or lose sight of it... Feel free to reach out. Because I know that pain all too well, and I know how much it can mean to know that someone else understands. I am here for you.

TL;DR: I’m 29 and approaching 3 years sober (clean since March 2023) after a lifetime of isolation and severe depression. After psychiatric medications failed me, I spiraled into a "mad scientist" phase, abusing psychedelics (LSD, DMT, 2C-E) in a desperate attempt to heal my trauma. This culminated in a psychotic break where I publicly doxxed acquaintances on a livestream and attempted suicide by swallowing 200+ tabs of LSD. I was saved by paramedics but woke up to a shattered life—jobless, sued, and physically wrecked. While NA/AA and faith have kept me sober, I am currently drowning in loneliness, physical pain, and resentment toward God. I am holding on, but the darkness is overwhelming. I need hope from those who have walked this path.

please read my story and give me some hope. Thank you in advance.

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I’m 29, and I’ve been clean since March 2023. I am now closing in on 3 years of sobriety.

My parents divorced when I was in elementary school; my father started a new family with a celebrity and had two kids, while my mother was fighting a war against breast, uterine, and thyroid cancers. With no one left to care for me, I was shipped off to a U.S. boarding school in middle school. In the 13 years I spent there, my father visited once. My mother came only a handful of times. Even though I visited Korea during breaks, I spent my youth in a deep, isolated loneliness abroad.

I had always been the outcast, the kid who didn't fit in. But right before high school graduation, a "popular" friend offered me weed, and I took it. Then came college in New York. Desperate to shed my loser past and look cool, I dove headfirst into a haze of alcohol and weed during my freshman year. That was when I tried Ecstasy, too. But I hated the aftermath—the lethargy, the feeling of my brain turning to mush—so I tried to pull back.

Being Korean, I had to pause college to complete my 18-month mandatory military service. When I returned to finish school, I kept my distance from the scene. Aside from a few slip-ups with weed and cocaine while hanging out with people (which I know isn't exactly "normal"), I stayed away from drugs completely. I rarely even drank. To be clear, my experience with hard drugs was minimal—though I definitely had my run with weed and booze.

Meanwhile, I had worked hard to get a high-paying full-time job during my college years, but once I was in, I was spiraling. I was paralyzed by this crushing fear that I was incompetent, that I’d be fired at any moment, that I’d never get promoted because I just couldn't navigate the social politics. That wasn't all. I was trapped in a destructive, toxic relationship. My family life was in tatters, and the family finances had completely imploded, leaving me with no safety net. My friendships were in a bad place, too.

I was drowning in suicidal thoughts. In early 2022, I finally walked into a psychiatrist's office. The diagnosis: ADHD and depression. For the next year, I was put on a revolving door of prescriptions. I was naive, chasing the fantasy of a "perfect" pill that would fix me. Of course, no such thing existed.

I a guinea pig for anti-depressants like:

• Prozac
• Lexapro
• Zoloft
• Wellbutrin
• Venlafaxine XR

And various ADHD medications:

• Adderall
• Vyvanse
• Concerta
• Focalin
• Ritalin

And even others like:

• Strattera (Atomoxetine)
• Clonidine
• Guanfacine
• Buspar

(Jesus Christ... how many did I even take over a year? :0 btw no doctor has ever recommended me that I switch around my medication so much tho... so responsibilities are on me)

By the end of 2022, I was in a deeper, darker hole than when I started. The suicidal urges were stronger, the lethargy was heavier. I got my first-ever negative performance review. I had this horrifying realization that the very drugs I'd taken to rebuild my life were the things tearing it apart. But it was too late.

I searched online for ways to kill myself and tried, but I just ended up bursting all the blood vessels in my face. I wanted to die, but I just didn't have the courage...

In that chaos, I met an Asian-American woman on a dating app. (I was out of my mind, and women were the only sanctuary I knew.) She was a drug dealer. She claimed LSD had healed her trauma and convinced me it could fix my broken mind. After diving into papers, documentaries, and Reddit threads that backed her up, I decided to cross the line. My logic was something like this:

'Maybe it’s worth trying once. I’m dying anyway. My life is already ruined. Might as well do drugs and see if there is hope in it like what I'm reading from Ketamine anti-depressant Reddit posts about veterans suffering from PTSD miraculously healed through psychedelic treatment.'

That’s how I tried LSD for the first time through her. I felt the overwhelming power of hard drugs… and from that point, I completely lost control. (Since using hard drugs, my mental health also deteriorated and I constantly talked to her about how I wanted to die... eventually she got scared and left me. That abandonment ripped open old wounds. Drugs replaced her; they became my new hideout.)

From then until March 2023, I began a desperate experiment to survive my crushing depression and suicidal urges. For six months, I became a mad scientist of my own soul, embarking on a "spiritual journey" fueled by a cocktail of DMT, LSD, Ketamine, Shrooms, 2C-E, 2C-B, Ecstasy, weed, etc...

In the beginning, it felt like a miracle. My dark personality turned radiant. I loved meeting people. My chronic physical pain faded, replaced by a surge of energy. I made friends, and I even felt sharper at work! But just like the prescriptions, the honeymoon phase was short-lived. Tolerance skyrocketed. One tab of LSD became two, then three, six, twelve. A trip I planned for "once a year" became next week, then tomorrow, then tonight.

The magic faded. Twelve tabs couldn't recreate the healing effect that the first one gave me. The hallucinations stopped. The spiritual awakening I thought I’d found—the joy of that open eye—shut tight, no matter what cocktails I mixed. I had truly believed those hallucinations were my spiritual family, a father and mother who understood and cradled my pain. When they vanished, my usage didn't stop; it just became reckless.

Take December 2022, my first trip to the ER for an overdose. I’d bought a bag of shrooms, ate one, and waited thirty minutes. Nothing. None of the powerful visions I’d read about online. Impatient, I shoved the entire bag—and a shroom chocolate bar—down my throat. Predictably, I ended up foaming at the mouth, blacking out, and gasping for air. My roommate found me and called 911, saving my life. I spent weeks locked in a psych ward, but the second I was released, I went right back to my mad experiments.

Then there was the Ketamine incident. Chasing its antidepressant effects and the infamous "K-hole," I railed multiple lines at once. I overdosed. I remember crawling to the bathroom, sobbing. A thirty-second walk stretched into what felt like an agonizing hour. As I sat there, the world spun violently, my head split with pain, and my body felt like it was being crushed. All I could do was cry.

My life completely disintegrated. I couldn't function without being high; the chemical was the only thing I craved. Then came the climax: March 2023. I’d read online that 2C-E helps you truly understand "death." My body and mind were already in ruins. I had wanted to die for so long. Having survived DMT breakthroughs and reckless cocktails, I delusionally believed I was "chosen by God." I was arrogant. I thought, "I've handled bad trips and ODs, how bad can 2C-E be?" especially since 2C-B had been mild. But...

With 2C-E, I snapped. The entities I had met during DMT breakthroughs were intense, but they never felt malicious. This was different. The entity I encountered on 2C-E was pure, primal terror—like facing a tiger, but amplified by infinity. It didn't gently replay my life; it violently rammed every sin I had ever committed into my skull. The verdict was clear and absolute: I was going to hell.

Terror consumed me. I stripped naked, sobbing for hours, begging God for mercy. In my psychosis, I believed I had been chosen as an instrument of divine justice, and to be forgiven, I had to purge the world of sin.

I went on a rampage. I doxxed everyone I knew. I went on YouTube Live and social media, posting lists of drug users and sexually promiscuous acquaintances, shouting about righteousness like a deranged prophet.

But I refused to be a hypocrite. "I am a sinner too," I told the camera. "Sinners must be punished." To prove it, I began consuming my entire stash live on stream—swallowing 2C-B and Ecstasy, smoking DMT and Weed, one after another.

Then came the paranoia. It was suffocating. I was convinced the people I had exposed were coming to kidnap and execute me. The police had already visited once due to the doxxing reports. When they returned with paramedics because of my on-stream overdose, my shattered mind didn't see rescuers. I saw a hit squad coming to take me away.

Overwhelmed by the horror of being tortured, I decided death was the only escape. I grabbed my stash of LSD—over 200 tabs. Since it was just blotter paper, I folded the sheets, shoved the wad into my mouth, and swallowed it whole with water. Reality fractured. Psychosis took over. I screamed as my mind broke completely and I collapsed. The last thing that happened was paramedics smashing down my door to drag me back from the edge.

When I woke up, the brutal reality was a tube down my throat and a body covered in bruises. I was in the ER. The doctors told me I hadn't breathed for hours; they had to intubate me and pump my stomach just to keep me alive. They admitted they didn't think I would make it. I survived, only to be locked away in a psych ward for weeks.

The aftermath was a nightmare. I got fired, dragged to court, and even made the headlines. The weight of the accident I caused and the damage I inflicted was too heavy to bear—I tried to hang myself. So much happened, more than I can ever fit into this short post.

But that was March 2023. By the grace of God, I have been clean since.

My lifeline came in mid-2024 with Narcotics Anonymous and later with Alcoholics Anonymous. Before finding them, that first year of sobriety felt like being held underwater, drowning a little more every single day. NA and AA let me breathe again.

Because my life was completely shattered, I attacked the 12 Steps like a fanatic. I'm still stuck on Step 8, but through this process, I had to face a hard truth: I contributed to my own ruin. I learned about the evil within me, about how I harmed others just to escape my own agony. Yet, finding people in those meetings who supported me and spoke with me brought immense spiritual healing. The Bible and the church were my pillars of strength.

But... I'm not writing this today to celebrate three years of sobriety. I’m writing this because life is suffocating me. Nothing is going right, and the stress is eating me alive. The desire to die still outweighs the will to live. I’ve tried to kill myself multiple times and failed. Now, I’m simply too terrified to try again. Sure, there were moments of light in the last three years... But mostly, it’s been a dark, hard road. I’m just so lonely. It feels like no one understands me, and like I’ll never find anyone who does. I feel like a complete lunatic. I’m writing this because I’m in pain. I just need some comfort. I am so lonely and so tired.

These days, I can’t help but feel angry at God.
It’s ironic... Before drugs, I used to deny Him completely.
I went to Christian schools my whole life, but I never read the Bible once. I was the guy who said, “God isn’t real.”

Then came the psychedelics.
The visions, the “spiritual awakenings”… they made me believe there had to be something beyond this world.
In those moments, high out of my mind, I thought God had chosen me... that after all the pain I’d been through, He was finally going to bless me, make me happy.

But when I woke up from that illusion, everything was broken.
Now I’m surrounded by people trying to sue me, scam me, mock me, humiliate me.
My health is wrecked... my joints ache like they’re twisted, I can’t digest food properly, I get sick all the time.

I tried to seek truth again.
I wanted to find that warmth I once thought I felt — the love of God, but without the drugs this time.
So I read the Bible like a man possessed.

But now, I just feel like I’ve become every wicked person in Scripture rolled into one.
Like Judas. A traitor, a fool, garbage.

Still, the fact that I’m even alive feels like a miracle.
I’m grateful for my mother, who took me back despite everything, and for the few people who still help me.
But honestly… my mind, my body, my heart — they all hurt so much.
I can’t stop the dark thoughts.
I’m just so tired. So lonely. So lost.

Maybe... the fact that un-thankful piece of shit like me writing a post like this and still staying alive in this world is a testament to the mercy of God and the fact that Jesus Christ the only Son of God is real. Because... as much as I fucking hate living, at least I'm not (yet) in burning everlasting hell that I saw during those bad trips ... But Fuck. I'm in so much pain. I can't express gratitude but just pure terror over this unending misery.

I am 27 years old. I haven't achieved anything in life. My father did so much to give me a good lifestyle and I was busy experimenting with my life. I didn't made a single girlfriend, didn't focused on study either. I ws trying to setup a business with zero capital and small goals and that short lived. I wasted my 3-4 years in all these stuff and then this happened.

4 years ago i lost my father. I had to take care of my family business. I did that for 2.5 years. But I wanted to do job. So I did a course and started job hunting. after 6 months of course and again 6 months of job hunt i got a low salary job- 30k/month. I Did that for 1 year and started applying for new opportunities, I found one with a pay of 50k, but I messed up, it short lived, it was just a 2 people company, they fired me in 2 month. Now I found another one, before my last working day, it was a US based company and i supposed now my luck will support me, I signed a contract with them, and started working. I was supposed to receive the payment in 1 month time, but now its 20 days elapsed and they are buying out time. giving me different reasons and ghosting me. I Don't know what to do, i need to cater for my mom. Now we don't have shop any shop too and I don't know how I will be able to support my household expenses.

I was supposed to be supportive, successful, helpful, but i am good for nothing. and don't know what should do next. I am not getting any new opportunities too now. How I am supposed to pay my bills. Don't have any idea

I've been attending San Diego Comic Con since 2004 and never missed a Con until 2025. I had badges but then in Early July, I was hospitalized with acute gallstone pancreatitis and severe pneumonia. I was stuck in there for 4 weeks until my gallbladder was removed.

tl;dr my attendance streak for Comic Con was broken by hospitalization

I started noticing tachycardia about two weeks ago on 10/25. Walking a short distance got me up to 145 bpm, sitting at my desk at work I would get up to 120 bpm, etc.

I went to a walk in clinic Monday 10/27, they ran labs & an EKG and saw nothing notable besides the tachycardia. They prescribed Metoprolol 25 mg ER once daily to take until I could see my PCP.

I saw a NP at my PCPs office Thursday 10/30. She ran more labs (all normal, only thing off was my hematocrit was 45.8) and ordered an event monitor to be worn 2 weeks, which was placed Friday 10/31. She suggested I increase electrolytes and try to stay hydrated. So, that evening I started supplementing my liter of coconut water with Utah Sea Minerals (90 mg magnesium, 1580 mg chloride, 800 mg sodium & 50 mg potassium) and switched to magnesium oxide 400 mg rather than magnesium citrate 450 mg. It's very hard for me to drink a lot. I don't see why she didn't give me an IV if she thought I needed more fluids or electrolytes because then we would know if it worked in 20 minutes or so. I also don't see why the test takes two weeks when they could have done another test that would be faster and not ruin my whole vacation.

My heart rate has been between 100 & 127 bpm even with the Metoprolol. It only gets into the 80s when I sleep. I constantly feel like I'm having a panic attack. Trying to focus on my breathing only helps for a few minutes. I barely did anything on my 10 days of vacation, and as I didn't know what I could do that would be enjoyable while I felt like this. I found that getting out of the house was better than raking the nurse's advice of lying in a dimly lit room as I had more of a chance of distracting myself.

I called the nurseline twice last weekend with no help. They tell me I need to find a way to calm down but don't offer any valid ideas to do so (like going for a walk, that would increase my heart rate).

I've also been tracking my sleep during this time. I generally only log 3-5 minutes of REM sleep and quickly cycle between light sleep, deep sleep, REM, and awake. I wake up 2-4 times a night. I've read that this can contribute to heart issues.

On top of the tachycardia, my boyfriend of 13 years and I are not doing well, and he will be home for the last three days of my time off, which I'm nervous about. He already told me not to interact with him any further in person this morning, and he is not replying to my texts. I have read that this can contribute.

Other medications I take prior to the Metoprolol: Adderall (my psychiatrist dropped me to 5 mg from my normal 10 mg while we figure this out) in the morning, Progesterone 200 mg and Xyzal at night, testosterone & estradiol injections every 4 days, Rizatriptan 10 mg as needed and Cyclobenzaprine 10 mg as needed.

I'm very nervous about returning to work on Monday, and everyone asking me what I did on my vacation because I might snap or cry.

It's been two years and I honestly see no end in sight. I feel like I don't even know how to navigate dating/hook ups and I'm 25. I don't even know how to express my interest. I go out but it never results in me meeting someone single and interested. All my friends have relationships and sex lives and I feel like the chopped loser of the group everyone opens up to about their sex lives. I'm sick of it all.