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Have To Admit It's A Constant Thought

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Impossible

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I truly feel like nobody understands. I feel like an utter alien. Even outside of "normal feeling like an alien." When people say they understand or can relate, I can tell they're not really. Because I can tell the parts that are shared experiences, and the parts that are singular to me - and it's a hot mess, I can't explain. Part of that is because I can't talk about everything. I'm sure it's stupid to most people. I just get advice that's almost insultingly simplistic. Just do it! Just <whatever>. As if that were the answer, I would have done that a billion years ago. Then I feel stupid and that I'm viewed as a beyotch for not being able to explain, for not being able to just accept things in whatever spirit they were meant, for feeling more hurt, discounted, minimized, condescended-to... then inevitably people will just not want to deal with my whining at all because I will be seen as shooting down everything. It's not what I intend, it's just that it's ... not.

I'm tired of being hammered over and over. I'm tired of struggling and to me there is no "win" in any of it. It's not a mountain to climb. This isn't a game. This is just a soul that's pretty much done-in.

My life is a hole that just keeps growing deeper. It doesn't really have meaning and what it has, I'm not sure is enough to keep me going. And just surviving isn't a win for me. Existing for the sake of others just ticks me off. And if someone who doesn't even know me tells me I have value, I can't believe that - it feels like a pat platitude. And no one can ever reconcile the contradiction between the axiom that people have inherent value in and of themselves, and yet in reality one's value is still judged - at the end of the day - by how one has impacted others. It all comes down to others, and I want - wanted - my life to be what was meaningful to me. And it feels pretty much gone, and too late now.

Things are going to get worse. I'm part of the reason for that, and I can't find a solution. Nothing that's okay for me. Nothing I can deal with. My basic needs - and my meaning needs (which are all that keep me going) - rely on my somehow finding and implementing solutions to all my issues - solutions I don't have. And can't seem to bring myself to work on. For whatever reason my brain, my head isn't working - whether I'm just lazy, or too damaged, or aging, or something else.

It's not a temporary state of mind. It's been growing, and growing worse and worse, for a very, very long time.

I can't deal with so much in my life. It's horribly painful and terrorizing for me. It would seem stupid to others but I'm just too tired. I don't want to have to deal with anything anymore. Let alone put "work" into trying to overcome stuff. I'm not interested anymore. I'm sickened by the concept of "being strong" anymore. Of courage. Of all those platitudes we're all supposed to be motivated by and then recondition ourselves to fit into the world better. I just want it all to stop. Just stop.

There's nothing that can help me, except for me, and I can't. There just don't seem to be options. Nothing is suitable.
 
I truly feel like nobody understands. I feel like an utter alien. Even outside of "normal feeling like an alien." When people say they understand or can relate, I can tell they're not really. Because I can tell the parts that are shared experiences, and the parts that are singular to me - and it's a hot mess, I can't explain. Part of that is because I can't talk about everything. I'm sure it's stupid to most people. I just get advice that's almost insultingly simplistic. Just do it! Just <whatever>. As if that were the answer, I would have done that a billion years ago. Then I feel stupid and that I'm viewed as a beyotch for not being able to explain, for not being able to just accept things in whatever spirit they were meant, for feeling more hurt, discounted, minimized, condescended-to... then inevitably people will just not want to deal with my whining at all because I will be seen as shooting down everything. It's not what I intend, it's just that it's ... not.

Your words really resonate with me. I've felt the same thing so many times, that I didn't belong here or that I didn't belong now. And to a degree you're right that we can't understand or relate to what your inner turmoil is just as you may not be able to entirely occupy our minds, but we can relate to similar feelings we have had. Many of us are capable of great empathy, perhaps even to a fault. Yes, things are singular to you, but the same type of feelings are shared by many of us.

Difficulty with putting into words, let along talking to others is a common theme in PTSD. Then again, you are here in this forum, and by posting, you are trying. It takes some time to find one's voice. And it most certainly is not stupid to us. It's a hard thing to separate yourself from those that hurl out simplistic solutions to the tough problems we face. Choose who you talk to and make sure you'll get some intelligent responses. You're safer here on the forum.

You are not stupid or a beyotch just because finding words for crap that lies well beyond words is hard. That's normal. Again, finding your voice and the words is part of this crap-fueled journey we are on. Read others posts on the forum, take in their words, and soon you'll find your own. And don't worry about explaining to those w/o the ability to understand. We here will understand.

I've know all too well the slide your on right now. Take a deep breath and understand that you may slide a bit farther, but be ready when you hit bottom so that you can bounce back up. A huge part of the healing process is connecting with people that will help you heal and to stop relying on the reactions of those that can't help you. I still struggle with that too. You don't need to overdo it; there's no need to hate people, just dial back your expectations of them while dialing up what you can expect from us.
 
Nobody can help me.......that's the problem. There's no help, there's only me - and I can't do it or make things right, either.

I don't know why I post, I just feel very desperate.

It's not even about healing. There are concrete things I need that I don't have and can't get. Nobody can make that better. Without which life is too painful for me.
 
Well, Willykat covered it all better than I could have so... ^^^

Please stay.[DOUBLEPOST=1401997523,1401997368][/DOUBLEPOST]We may not be able to help, but we'll be happy to hear you talk about it, if you like. Sometimes that helps.
 
I don't really want to talk about what it is I need but it's elemental for survival. Don't really want to talk about the options because pretty much everything has already been considered and because of who and what I am, and have experienced and been through my entire life, and none of the standard options are viable, and it's likely that I can't make the non-standard happen in time.
 
Everyone has said it so much better than I could. And you described my situation and feelings much better than I could.

Somehow, you're not alone. Let us be here for you. Please.
 
I feel like I'm crazy and that nobody believes me. Like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and there is nobody and nothing that can ease that (that's true). That I'm wasting my time, life and any chance that I might have by being unable to do anything - yet I can't. Everything is beyond my ability to deal, and I'm the only one who can. And I can't. And I don't even want to. I want it all to go away.
 
One thing PTSD does is to make us perceive every event within the framework of the original trauma. So anything that happens, anything people say or do, seems exactly like the trauma we suffered. Our perceptions are like we're facing death again, we become hopeless, etc.

Just reading your last post, "nobody believes me", "weight of the world on my shoulders" …. I'd be willing to be that's exactly how you felt when you experienced the trauma. I'm not saying your perceptions are off base or wrong, just saying that the PTSD places a veil or a filter in front of all our senses that distorts reality to seem like we're doomed to experience the trauma all over again every day.

My advice is for you to get to a safe, quiet place, and breathe deeply, relax all your muscles, and ground yourself in the present moment. Look at the things around you and notice they are just plants, or books, or whatever it is you see. Look up on the web or here on the forum about grounding techniques and mindfulness, get yourself in the present. This is powerful stuff and will help you deal with things today.

It ain't easy; it requires that you quiet your mind and there's hardly anything harder for us PTSD sufferers to go through. You're not alone.
 
Grounding doesn't work for me. I don't really have the ability to self-soothe. The weight of the world is literal (in the sense of it being "my world and my survival/existence within it"). I am the only one. Nobody is going to save me or can even really help. There's no help.

When I say nobody believes me, I mean that people just assume I'm handling or that I'm capable even though I'm screaming I'm not, I'm not. That somehow I'll pull something out of my ass and make things be okay. That I'm not as crazy or bad-feeling as I know I am. That the things that are going on in my head - aren't going on in my head.

The present is a waste if I don't do NOW for the future because the future is an end with intolerable consequences. Nothing I read, see or hear about any of the standard techniques or strategies work for me. Nothing works, nothing helps. The terror is too great, the threats are too real. My ability to deal with it is too destroyed. Those are just what's real. Those are facts and I don't feel like anybody believes me. I say that as if - if somebody would only believe me, there'd be some sort of magic solution, or help - and yet I know that there still isn't. There's no help. It feels so hopeless.
 
So I had a drink because it used to always help me feel better.
(I'm in no danger of becoming an alcholic, btw.)

It didn't.

I was saving that for possible assistance because my 2-month xanax Rx was done & I've been hoarding what's left for emergencies and tiny doses to help me sleep, so I can't get it refilled (long story) and nobody likes to write them. I don't understand why this didn't help. I think perhaps I really am crazy. Despite the common wisdom that if you think you are, then you're not, because those who are crazy don't know they are. I feel that way.
 
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