13 votes

Hi, how are you? Mental health support and discussion thread (June 2021)

This is a monthly thread for those who need it. Vent, share your experiences, ask for advice, talk about how you are doing. Let's make this a compassionate space for all who may need one.

16 comments

  1. [2]
    TemulentTeatotaler
    (edited )
    Link
    Content warning: suicide, sexual abuse, spousal abuse I'm hurting a lot, but hopefully starting to move in the right direction. I wrote a much-needed letter which led to a much-needed talk. This...
    • Exemplary

    Content warning: suicide, sexual abuse, spousal abuse

    I'm hurting a lot, but hopefully starting to move in the right direction.

    I wrote a much-needed letter which led to a much-needed talk. This person and I dated in college, and we got back in touch a couple years ago as friends. We got along great. Long conversations that effortlessly shifted between laughing, interesting topics, and reflections on mutual maturing.

    At the start of last year she got distant, and I didn't really know why. There were lots of possible answers... her career and life were in a bit of tumult. This year all the communication we had was a brief post-Trump text. Attempts I made to reach out weren't working, and I wanted to write to say the dynamic wasn't working for me, wish her the best, and move on.

    She responded immediately, apologized, and we talked. Her explanation of the distance was that COVID magnified her loneliness and talking with me made her starkly aware of what she didn't have in her life, and that hurt was dealt with by some soft-ghosting. Then last December she started dating someone, with things getting serious enough that she didn't feel right continuing communication with an ex.

    We parted on good terms, and the situation resolved in a much better way than I could've hoped for, but it aches.

    The impetus for the letter was the anniversary of rough event from last year that has me taking inventory of my life. I was sorta friends with a cool lady that was trying to build a life for herself. She was socially conscious, hilarious, and had the undertones of warmth peaking out from a punk's veneer. She moved to Portland with her girlfriend and for a span I tried to help her on a career doing web design/we shared goofy shit like the competitive worm charmin' sport.

    She went silent for a month. Then her family posts that she committed suicide on her Twitter. I make the mistake of clicking on her partner's profile (didn't know them) and found her partner moved home, Tweeted some heart-breaking heart-broken shit, then killed herself as well.

    I think none of this would be a problem if I was more resilient, or without a lifetime of trauma.

    I grew up in a house with spousal abuse. My earliest memories include my mom getting pushed down stairs or having her head slammed in a freezer. I grew up with accusations of sexual abuse of me and my brother. Particularly damaging was that my brother was sexually assaulted to protect me/in my stead.

    Those accusations were almost certainly not true, though it took two decades for me to get the nerve to ask questions. My mom's had a string of partners she's estranged by being verbally abusive, accused her brothers of sexually abusing their children, and a whole host of other things that my brother--working psychologist-- believes is BPD and maybe some CPTSD.

    Both of my parents had screwed up lives. My mom was the youngest of a family with an alcoholic dad and food insecurity, neglected somewhere as a child where rats crawled over her, and so on. My dad had a brother who tried to kill him as a child, a mom who had him spy on an unfaithful husband, and at the time of my parents separation at 5 he was working for his father who used that power over him in some nasty ways. They both love their kids, and they both have good sides.

    I'm likely on the spectrum (stimmed, hit my head, overloaded by touch/sound, etc.) and was selectively mute for a few years as a kid, but I was "gifted" and slipped through the cracks. Poor school district.

    When I moved to a wealthier school district I was still in that "gifted" bucket, but I didn't have the infrastructure. My parents are smart people but they didn't graduate highschool, so while I did well on tests I wasn't like some friends who were #1 in state math competitions or getting full-ride scholarships to Ivy Leagues. I didn't want to replace lost textbooks or get glasses because my mom cried and stressed over finances (apparently we were very close to eviction at least once). The dysfunction/over-active empathy I had made me focus little on myself and much on the world. Fantasy/sci-fi were fuel for the hope that an individual could change the world, but reality was telling me I wasn't that individual.

    When I was 14 I met a girl on a night that felt otherworldly. I don't have the writing skills to convey that, or her. I snuck out and was playing the clarinet on a hill leading to a soccer field and she joined in with her voice from around a corner. We stayed like that for a good while... just improvising and exploring a stranger through sound. It's funny how much you can convey like that... your curiosity, your willingness to support someone where they fumble, intensity.

    Eventually we talked and became friends. She was a portal to a secret place, distant from school and home and the limitations of the well-traveled path of orthodox adolescence. She (Sarah) was a couple years older, and through her I was introduced to Ken, who was a couple years older than her. And Ken was someone it seemed like everything was routed through, and better for it. He was just warmth incarnate, kind to a fault. The sort of guy that if he was being mugged would ask if they needed his shoes (if they needed them).

    Through Ken, with Sarah, I met weird and cool people (e.g., chaos magic cult members). I didn't get to be around them often or consistently, and the taboo and random payout probably only needlessly heightened how enamoured I was. My first true friends and community. Map points and raves in abandoned farms or warehouses that wound down discussing Hakim Bey. Adults willing to listen to a dumb 15 year old that read a few works from an omnibus of Nietzsche because the binding looked cool, deep blue with aged paper.

    I thought that's where my future was. That the value of someone that wouldn't thrive in the conventional path had value in their willingness to explore things that hadn't been explored. That's the gamblers mindset: if I just get repeatedly lucky this $1 can turn into $1,000.

    Ken was bipolar. When I was 16 he went out of country to a lot of fanfare and expectation, and while there he killed himself. It's impossible to express (or recall) everything, but I had massive guilt for the pressure put on him. Massive self-worth issues because I heard about his passing indirectly, and the community that I had been close to dissolved or rejected me.

    For a month after that I did everything I could to comfort Sarah. We were closer than ever, as close as I hoped we'd be in other circumstances. Every smile or laugh hid an iceberg of hurt. She was breaking in slow motion and I couldn't fix it... and all the ego of an all-around "gifted" kid smashed into reality. I'm useless.

    After a night that had lots of those smiles and laughs we went to where she was staying. She pushed me on a couch and straddled me, and that was my first time having sex. She flinched when I tried to kiss her so I stopped. She didn't register my confusion/numbness/lack of affirmation. After we were just near each other, sharing a borrowed flat.

    My memories are very flawed, but especially from that period, and especially from that month. I think I recall waiting until she was sleeping before going to the bathroom in a trance and curling up on the floor. Other times when I'm like that I've scratched the flesh off an arm, just mindless.

    I can't recall details but she left that morning and I never heard from or about her again. I presume she's dead but I've never gotten to close that loop.

    It took a very long time to talk about any of this, and longer to say that what happened wasn't okay. Years later I watched the movie Perks of Being a Wallflower and it wrecked my shit. I might be misremembering, but the heaviest bit being the girl telling the boy (who had been molested) that she ~"wanted his first time to be with someone who loved him".

    It was the emotion Sarah was putting off all that month, that she was already gone but lingered to try to care for me. She'd been abused, through things that she wouldn't talk about. I didn't force her to, when I could have. It was hard to get past the fear that she saw me like that on the bathroom floor, realized she'd ignored my reluctance, that she'd hurt the person she loved.

    I was a zombie for a year after that. A zombie good at hiding its decay. My path out was to pretend there was some sort of greater meaning to what our friend group was, and their deaths. Like I was on some hunt for a psychological/philosophical seed crystal or prion (take that viral marketers?) that would let one person terraform the world, inspired by our time together. Find the right idea--something that spreads-- that will stop all the ugliness that hurt the people I cared about.

    It's that gambler's mindset; an excuse to indulge in self-harm and isolation. I tried (mostly successfully) to not let my problems/trauma be anyone else's. The person I wrote to today saw me in some states that made her think I had PTSD, but the dark stuff she was spared from, and we had a mutually positive relationship.

    Eventually I worked my way through the teen stuff, but I'm left a bit with the aftermath.

    I don't really have any friends. I pushed some away because I felt unhealthy to be around. I didn't make new ones because I was preoccupied and overwhelmed with other things. There's a bit of a "gap in my resume" from living a weird life that makes a lot of conversations either dishonest or burdensome.

    Besides that, I moved to my hometown ~5 years ago to care for ailing parents. The better off one was just lonely and socially isolated.

    The other is disabled (vertigo, Meniere's) and will require emotional/financial/physical support probably until she passes. Many of her teeth are rotting and it's been just shy of 2 years trying to find a dentist willing to accommodate her (real or imagined) allergies, pain threshold, and disability. Smoking and bone less doesn't help either. It will cost a good chunk of a house and not be a permanent fix. Most conversations with her involve breaking down in tears.

    My last (long distance) relationship ended with being ghosted for a month--> sent/tagged in photos of her self-harm-->mentions she was afraid she'd stab me if I was around her-->a 90 page tirade that alternated between how much she loved me and how terrible I am-->increasingly unstable emails (e.g., baby talk). She had a flair up of BPD, grad school/family/life stress and I had to break contact. I hated not being able to help but I was making the situation worse.

    Yikes... I'm just rambling now.

    Basically, there was a lot of shit that I dealt/deal with by being numb. I'm challenging that status quo. I'm keeping a good diet and exercise. Now that I'm vaccinated I'm going to try to find something social to be part of. I'm taking care of some long-delayed things, and generally just starting to be open to trying again.

    It hurts, and everything is a bit raw, but I think it'll get easier and that I'm moving in the right direction.

    23 votes
    1. Adys
      Link Parent
      Thanks for sharing. All the best to you. ❤️

      Thanks for sharing. All the best to you. ❤️

      4 votes
  2. [3]
    crdpa
    Link
    I'm happy and sad at the same time. My girlfriend and I both have problems. Mine is with alcohol, hers is with obesity/food. We are 4 and a half years together now. I am finally working on my...

    I'm happy and sad at the same time.

    My girlfriend and I both have problems. Mine is with alcohol, hers is with obesity/food.

    We are 4 and a half years together now. I am finally working on my problem and found a psychologist who specializes in naltrexone and the Sinclair Method. It's working great. Days pass by that i completely forget about beer. I have a 12 pack at home that i forgot about it. It's been sitting there for 15 days now. I still binge here and there, but it is going down.

    I've gone from 32 drinks per week to 8 last week and just 3 the week before last. I lost weight (but i didn't need to) and am feeling great.

    This is the happy part.

    The sad part is that my SO seems to be getting worse. She is clearly gaining weight and just don't talk about it. We talked about it in the past, her doctor said she was in danger of becoming pre-diabetic (she is only 26), but nothing changed.

    Last time we talked about it (more than a year ago. Can't remember) she said she accepts herself and that is a big part of facing the problem, but i think that acceptance is the step she wants to stay.

    I love her, we are great together, but i don't see myself being happy with this.

    I tried to look past it. I've been ignoring it. I'm not talking about it, just keeping it inside, but i'm slowly becoming unhappy.

    We still have sex, but it is coming to a point that i don't want anymore.

    I should have seen this. She was always sedentary and already had a weight problem when we started dating, but i overlooked it because we are good together. She made me a better person and it pains me to contemplate a future without her.

    I don't want a kid in an environment where obesity is normalized (almost her entire family is obese) the same way i don't want alcoholism near my home.

    The other problem is that we are both working in different cities (4h distance) with no hope of changing. I am the only one trying to change carrer (i want to become a developer) and looking for opportunities were she lives.

    I wish life had a rewind button...

    13 votes
    1. [2]
      Icarus
      Link Parent
      Great work on the Sinclair Method. My partner had a realization over the weekend that she hadn't had a drink in 6 months all thanks to the progress from it. She kept track of her drinking from the...

      Great work on the Sinclair Method. My partner had a realization over the weekend that she hadn't had a drink in 6 months all thanks to the progress from it. She kept track of her drinking from the beginning so she was in awe of just how simple it has been to get to this point vs. total abstinence methods from the prior 10 years. We had some rough times during the initial part but I'm proud of her for persevering and will extend that pride to you as well. It isn't easy getting sober.


      I don't have much to add in regards to your partner but at some point, you will have to talk about it with her. I'm not great at giving relationship advice so take my opinion with a grain of salt, but if I were you I would likely frame that conversation from your own POV of the needs that aren't being met. For example, when my partner's alcoholism was taking a toll on me, I had to tell her that I needed stability and security in my life and when she drinks and loses control, I feel threatened and scared. Specific behaviors and examples are better, ensuring that I don't blame or frame things in a way that is very personable. So I would never have said "you are an out-of-control alcoholic and terrible to be with" but rather, "I love you but I'm uncomfortable with how last night turned out. When these things happen I feel helpless and sad because I don't feel my home is a safe place for me to be."

      I try my best to practice Nonviolent Communication and compassion/kindness when I have to have difficult conversations. When people yell at each other, it's because the person doing the yelling isn't feeling "heard" so I find NVC helps de-escalate and keeps things de-escalated.

      8 votes
      1. crdpa
        Link Parent
        Thanks for the kind words. I think i have an ebook about Nonviolent Communication. I'll take a look, because i'm having a hard time trying to think in a way to tell her.

        Thanks for the kind words.

        I think i have an ebook about Nonviolent Communication. I'll take a look, because i'm having a hard time trying to think in a way to tell her.

        6 votes
  3. [2]
    mrbig
    Link
    I'm so freaking great I'm afraid to sound silly. I've had many happy moments in relationships before but nothing like this. I'm not sweating in anticipation by the mention of her name anymore, but...

    I'm so freaking great I'm afraid to sound silly. I've had many happy moments in relationships before but nothing like this. I'm not sweating in anticipation by the mention of her name anymore, but things are just good. With little to no effort, just being with her is a constant source of joy. It's not like we're perfect, and there are shitty things happening in my life, but I feel such a profound calm around her. We're always laughing and joking and teasing each other. It's the best.

    11 votes
    1. kfwyre
      Link Parent
      This was such a delight to read. :D I'm very happy for you two!

      This was such a delight to read. :D

      I'm very happy for you two!

      5 votes
  4. archwizard
    Link
    Things are awfully difficult. It's finals week, and I'm afraid of failing my classes, and I'm not sure what the consequences of that would be, but I just don't have the energy to care. I feel...

    Things are awfully difficult. It's finals week, and I'm afraid of failing my classes, and I'm not sure what the consequences of that would be, but I just don't have the energy to care. I feel socially isolated. I've never been good at making friends, and I haven't really met a new person, face-to-face, in years. I have a few friends, but it's hard to have new relationship dynamics with a 5 person group I've known since I was 15. I know I should just hold on until I go to university in the fall, but I'm not looking forwards to a lonely summer.

    It's worse because I've been taking a break from one of my best friends because I couldn't bear having unrequited feelings . I'm happier now that I'm not subjecting myself to them, but there's a hole in my heart that's aching.

    In just a few weeks, I'll turn 20, and I can't help but feel like I've wasted, or messed up the social life a teenager should have, and that's weighing on me. Maybe the solution is to join a club or other activity, but that's not really an option because of Covid. I wonder if maybe I should embrace the solitude and take up solo hiking or something.

    Anyways, thanks for listening
    ~Archwizard

    9 votes
  5. cfabbro
    (edited )
    Link
    Kind of a tangent, but DAE feel extremely hesitant to express when they're actually feeling good, like I do? My life has had a lot of rather dramatic ups and downs, especially thanks to my mental...

    Kind of a tangent, but DAE feel extremely hesitant to express when they're actually feeling good, like I do? My life has had a lot of rather dramatic ups and downs, especially thanks to my mental illnesses (GAD, panic disorder, and agoraphobia). So I can't help but almost always feel on edge, and that when things are actually starting to go good for me I am really just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for me to spiral back down into being a total mess again. And I know it's not logical, but I also can't help but feel that by opening up about things going well, it will somehow jinx it for me. However, with that said, I'm going to put aside my reservations and give being positive/optimistic a try this time:

    Things have actually been going surprisingly well for me the last few months. I have slowly but surely been improving my diet over the last year+, largely by cutting out most meats and "junk" food/drinks, which is finally starting to pay dividends. I also recently disconnected from a lot of online activities which weren't very healthy for me (e.g. Discord chatrooms, Doom scrolling the news, etc.). I have been making sure to get plenty of sun and fresh air now that the weather is finally nice here in Southern Ontario, and even have a decent tan going for the first time in a very long time. I am finally on a somewhat regular sleep schedule (a true rarity for me). And I have also managed to somehow find the energy to start working out regularly again, and keeping up with my self-care and personal hygiene routines (instead of doing them in fits & spurts like normal). And I have even managed to start (and actually finish) a few DIY home-improvement projects (e.g. my most recent).

    All of which is honestly a pretty big deal for me, since for most of my life I haven't had the discipline, motivation, or energy to really fully commit to doing, and properly maintaining, most of those things. And for the first year of the pandemic I was on a somewhat drastic downward spiral where I spent a large amount of time just sleeping, in between having extended periods of insomnia along with massive panic attacks. I suspect I was genuinely approaching rock bottom, so I am glad it finally turned around.

    So, yeah. Here's hoping the shoes are firmly planted on the ground this time instead of hanging over my head like a guillotine, and I can actually maintain this level of energy, and determination to continue the healthy routines and habits this time. 🤞

    7 votes
  6. Kom
    Link
    It's been a minute since I've posted on here.. anyway I'm Melbourne Australia, currently mid lockdown number 4, we spent most of last year in lockdown with a 5km radius we could travel. This...

    It's been a minute since I've posted on here.. anyway I'm Melbourne Australia, currently mid lockdown number 4, we spent most of last year in lockdown with a 5km radius we could travel. This absolutely ruined my mental health, I was trying to study to further my nursing degree but had to put it all on hold as things became far too difficult.

    Skip forward to this most recent lockdown, we were told it would be 7 days, well things went to shit as they seem to do and it was extended for a further 7 days. This brought back all the anxiety of last year and "two more weeks" that went on for months. I stepped up this time and spoke to my GP, I've been started on antidepressants, knowing how they work and the adverse effects because of work is one thing but experiencing them is a whole other world of crap.

    I'm currently trying again with my degree but currently have no motivation for it at all. Unfortunately it's the end of the damn semester I just hope I've done enough for that part and will be in a better place next semester.

    6 votes
  7. dotsforeyes
    (edited )
    Link
    I've been thinking a lot about selfishness recently. Today at lunch, I ordered food for our household that included a box of chicken while catching up on work. I then arrived late to the meal and...

    I've been thinking a lot about selfishness recently.

    Today at lunch, I ordered food for our household that included a box of chicken while catching up on work. I then arrived late to the meal and when I got to the table, there was no chicken left for me. It was a little thing but something about it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I broke down and grossly overreacted in a bit of a rage. Anyway after having fought with everyone over why I was making a big deal out of something that should to them and perhaps to the less-tired me have been "an easy sacrifice", I was left defeated and shamefaced as we screamed at each other, ending in someone saying "Eat something else! Don't be so selfish!"

    It hurt, first of all. The knowledge that people consider me selfish, after I wrongly assumed myself rather at least a break-even in earth's little dance among the stars. Then I thought, looking back at my life as all the things I've done whizzed by at record speed: "My god, AM I selfish?”

    Of course I would be selfish from the point of view of my housemates who wanted the last piece of chicken. My taking it from them would essentially rob them of food that was theirs. But from my point of view it was them who was selfish, for not realizing that I wanted that chicken as much as they did.

    Setting aside the world's pettiest argument, which was easily fixed by my digesting something, it made me realize it wasn't the chicken I was mad about at all.

    These last two years, the ever-constant burnout in healthcare services erupted into a Dantes's inferno of stress. Healthcare workers like myself were forced into a situation where we were both forcibly thrown into the spotlight with the "heroic" responsibility of saving everyone and attacked for being the bad guys out to milk every citizen dry. To the credit of those I have worked with and I suspect the vast majority of my profession in a third-world country, we've done our best. But now on the way to the (hopefully!) aftermath, I feel like the damage has begun to make itself more known. Many of us in training jobs have quit or have to repeat the year. Many have gone into "safer" moonlight, locum, or telemedicine jobs. Many have had to distance from their families. And of course, there are those of us for whom COVID will never be a problem again, may they rest in peace.

    I went into medicine with the same mix of selfishness and selflessness that the average med student does. Of course I wanted to help people if I could(tm), but I was equally as motivated by the sudden death of close family members to cancer and the realization that it could happen to me and people I love. In a way it was selfless to sacrifice all that time to the pursuit of caring for others, but I don't know if I could have made it through without colleagues saying "Don't worry! Once you're settled, you'll be financially secure".

    Now, after all those years of mixed messages, debt, work, and hierarchy, I was preparing myself for pursuing a possible subspecialty in oncology when the global health climate of COVID derailed pretty much any plans I've had for myself. There's a joke that every resident training in Internal Medicine this year is specializing in Infectious Disease and Pulmonology because those are the only patients to be seen.

    With all that has happened, medicine doesn't make me happy like it used to. Upon vocalizing my burnout, my desire to step back in little pockets of non-medical hobbies and my wish to have a salary that can someday get me my own house and afford a dog maybe, society at large is calling it selfishness. Patients are crying out that we honor our oath. Poor Hippocrates meant well but the responsibility of 7.9 billion human lives seems insurmountable even putting together every healthcare professional on Earth. I come home, and I'm selfish for wanting my share of chicken.

    And on some level, I am. Selfish yes, but also tired. I'm healthy and so far safe and fine and entitled and sad and just tired. I spent a good hour after the chicken episode frustrated, trying to figure out if I was selfish - and if I was, how badly and how fixable?

    6 votes
  8. PhantomBand
    (edited )
    Link
    Still stuck in derealization since august 2019. Mildly afraid that it'll stay this way forever, though I'm also aware that it's just a consequence of my extremely indoorsy lifestyle. Kinda wonder...

    Still stuck in derealization since august 2019. Mildly afraid that it'll stay this way forever, though I'm also aware that it's just a consequence of my extremely indoorsy lifestyle. Kinda wonder what it felt like before though, I'm not even sure what "normal" is like anymore.

    EDIT: reading a post of someone on reddit with similar experiences to me which is getting replies that the OP might have a burnout is also quite relatable, actually..

    6 votes
  9. [3]
    3_3_2_LA
    Link
    TW: suicide I'd like some suggestions from fellow Tildes-users (Tildians?) as I'm trying to gain a perspective on some stuff I'm dealing with. I'm looking to gather information on the following:...

    TW: suicide

    I'd like some suggestions from fellow Tildes-users (Tildians?) as I'm trying to gain a perspective on some stuff I'm dealing with.

    I'm looking to gather information on the following:

    1. Any recommended readings on the topic of suicide? (both for/against like Camus)
    2. Any material on people chronicling changes in their lives over decades (teens, 20s, 30s, 40s, ...). I'm not sure if there's a word that describes that but I'm looking for some sort of generalization across each decade. For a jejune example, it could be something as trivial as people noting their health declining from their late 30s; or maybe changes in their approach to life in 40s, etc. An example would be https://web.archive.org/web/20210516211810/http://www.robinhobb.com/blog/posts/38429 although it doesn't go over a life in decades, oh well...
    3. Lists of high-level advice -- doesn't necessarily have to be abstract (something like https://www.lesswrong.com/posts/7hFeMWC6Y5eaSixbD/100-tips-for-a-better-life is perfectly fine!)

    Cheers!

    5 votes
    1. TemulentTeatotaler
      Link Parent
      You might try a biography of David Foster Wallace like Every Love Story Is a Ghost Story. It's been a while since I read it, but it seemed to give some insight into a complicated person who ended...

      You might try a biography of David Foster Wallace like Every Love Story Is a Ghost Story. It's been a while since I read it, but it seemed to give some insight into a complicated person who ended up committing suicide.

      A DFW quote on the topic:

      The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.

      If you ever would like a person to talk to let me know. I'd be happy to be a sounding board!

      Without going into a lot of detail here, I grew up around a lot of dysfunction and have had some experience with some adjacent topics.

      5 votes
    2. googs
      Link Parent
      Not exactly sure if it's what you're looking for for #2, but you might want to check out the Up! documentary series. It follows the lives of 14 individuals starting at age 7 with a new film every...

      Not exactly sure if it's what you're looking for for #2, but you might want to check out the Up! documentary series. It follows the lives of 14 individuals starting at age 7 with a new film every 7 years. There are 9 films so far (I've only seen 3 of them so I can't speak for the whole series), so you can watch the lives of these people, their struggles and successes, from ages 7-63.

      https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Up_(film_series)

      5 votes
  10. Basil
    Link
    Some few days ago I got the news that a friend has died. It was suicide. I wasn't very close to them, I had no idea what they were going through. I also didn't see them in real life for more than...

    Some few days ago I got the news that a friend has died. It was suicide. I wasn't very close to them, I had no idea what they were going through. I also didn't see them in real life for more than half a year. I don't know if others in the friend group knew what they were going through.

    I feel really weird since than. Mostly I feel ok though. At first I was a bit in denial, but when we got the date of the funeral I mostly accepted it. I kind of feel really bad that I didn't even cry. It is so strange that they are gone... I think when all of us meet again in real life it might hit even more how weird it is that they aren't there. Hopefully everyone else from the friend group is also doing ok, especially those who were closer to them. Most of us are really busy these days and COVID is still a thing, so we didn't meet together as a group for quite some time. When I talked a bit with some of my friends, we all seemed to avoid the topic since the day a friend told us. Maybe after the funeral we will discuss this, or maybe not. Also this is strange, I feel guilty every time I eat any nice food/dessert. I also kind of used it as an excuse to not get anything done for the past few days. I really should focus for some time longer. I just feel weird. I definitely didn't expect to be going to a funeral anytime soon. That will also be strange. I am kind of anxious thinking about having to go there, but it's not about me so I will hopefully be fine.

    5 votes