My Dad is in the early stages of prostate cancer. It's affecting me so much that I can't even eat, sleep or think. We're really close and I don't want anything to happen to him. He reassures me that it's treatable so all I can do is hope. If something happens to him, then the thought of dealing with relatives on his side of the family frightens me. My Dad has told me many many stories of how his brothers and sisters caused him nothing but trouble and heartache throughout his life. Passive aggression runs in his family because these people are ignorant, hypocritical and don't know how to communicate. I have so many cousins that I don't even talk to. I don't consider any of them family. I guess family doesn't necessarily mean the people whom you were born with. Couldn't care less about any of them. I just want my Dad to pull through and stay healthy.
Just today, started saying hello to complete strangers on the street. From living here in Vancouver all my life I know it's not super common, but I thought it might be cool and make things more cheerful and less crappy.
No body is holding a cellphone in their hands. From then to now is so culture shocking to me.
I’m 24 and have had chronic depression for almost half of my life. While I am fairly privileged with financial support from my parents while pursuing law school, I have thought about ending my life almost everyday for the past 6+ years. Over this time, I’ve gone to two therapists and have also tried taking different antidepressants, but honestly my thoughts have only become more frequent and intense. The only thing that keeps me from following through with suicide is a feeling of obligation to my parents and the knowledge that it would cause my loved ones a lot of pain. I almost find a sense of comfort in telling myself that I will eventually do it once my parents die, but I also realize how messed up that is. I have many things to feel grateful for, and yet I feel an intense sense of hopelessness. I really don’t know where to go from here.
Don't forget about the other lives who might need your help when you're hurting. I got blindsided dumped and I stopped caring for myself — and I'm still hurting. But tonight I cleaned my hummingbird feeder because you know what? Even though I'm hurting, those tiny hearts need me. Even if I can't see them all the time. And I bet you can find it in yourself to think of other little hearts who might need you, too, even if they don't show up often.
I have run out of online shows to watch. Now I am left with a desperate kind of craving to fill that void. I need new stories to consume. Please feed me.
Which was both painful and shameful. Everyone wants to be on target in life, but lately it seems it's getting tougher. I want to try again tomorrow though. I must be a glutton for punishment.
Gay guys try and pick me up all the time and women think I'm a player.
I'm not either.
So, ahhh, what do I do?
I'm a nurse in critical care. Seen it all throughout the pandemic and came out a shell of a person. I see why patients complain about us having a lack of empathy, and being monsters overall. They're not wrong and I hate admitting that. I can't even describe how difficult these years have been, and we've been expected to maintain our cool throughout but in conditions like that, it was just not possible.
I'm gonna put myself through de-escalation training all over again and try to rewire my brain to be the empathetic nurse I was before all this happened. I dont like who I've become. I never show my patients how little empathy I have for them when they aren't truly suffering, but I've gotten to the point where I dont feel the empathy that I normally would unless they are in seriously critical condition. Suffering is subjective and I want to re-teach that to myself until I genuinely feel it.
I'm sorry to all patients who have experienced substandard care from a group of beyond exhausted nurses/docs. This is not how healthcare should be and I'm going to try and be better. PLEASE be patient with us--ill try and spread the word.
I regret being an impossible introvert - but I have no one to confess this aloud to. While I hold social media accounts, I do not attend to them often - every few years at best. Sadly, this was the way I learned of one of my dearest friends passing, and several months after it happened. It breaks my heart to not have spent more time with them, or to have told them how much their friendship meant to me and how I loved them. I felt ashamed, and an unworthy friend! I mourned the loss deeply because true friends are rare - we are blessed and lucky to ever find and keep one. By this anonymous confession I hope that someone reads this - perhaps some other introvert like me - and remembers that we should not take our friendships for granted. The smallest things hold greater meaning with time. How many tomorrow's shall come before it's too late?