Is it an unforgivable sin or crime to be sent to a psychiatric program? Help me!

I know, the real world, intellectually based answer is "of course not". In fact, the question on its face is actually offensive, I get that -- it promotes stigma , it implies that there is something wrong, morally, with anyone who gets psychiatric treatment.

I get that, believe me. The last thing I want to come off as is a bigot against those of us in the mental health community. Because, let me tell you, during this journey of mine over the past 16 months, I have met a let of people with MH issues who stand head and shoulders above many "normal" people in all respects.

So, this is purely my emotional response to the biggest thing I have struggled with -- the thought that I ended up in a psychiatric program.

To me, it feels like an unforgivable sin, or a crime which is beyond redemption. FOR MYSELF. I don't feel that way about other people -- I think I'm pretty enlightened, and I think I have a lot of empathy. I always am much, much harder on myself than anyone else.

Years ago, I knew a lady with an Italian father in law from Sicily. He had an interesting history -- he killed a man, premeditated murder -- it was a so-called "honor killing" - he caught the man having an affair with his married daughter, apparently in that culture, it brought such disgrace on the family that the remedy was to avenge the disgrace by killing the man.

I thought it was "crazy" -- so did my friend, who's father in law served quite a few years in prison for this "honor killing".

But, now I do understand something about it -- for honor, for pride, to save face. Because, I feel I have totally lost that. Again, I know, it's bigoted, prejudiced, stigmatizing to say that. But, I'm being brutally honest, it's how I feel.

And, as a result, I just don't feel like I can live with myself. I feel completely degraded by the experience of being sent, pretty much against my will in the sense I was afraid to say "no" to the psychiatrist, to a day hospital program.

So, frankly, I wish I were dead. I attempted it, and didn't go through with it. And now, I pretty much regret that on a daily basis. I have a few moments of happiness, but mostly just live in this black hole of shame.

I just don't know how I can go on, feeling this way about myself.

I know intellectually, this makes NO SENSE. I've had this conversation about a million times with my therapist, every session basically, and almost every time I see the psychiatrist. They both remind me, correctly, of the medical model of mental illness, that it is an illness and not my fault. I just can't emotionally accept that.

So, I contemplate the fact that I just can NOT live like this, and I have no idea how to break this belief that is so completely implanted in my mind that it has taken on a life of its own.

If anyone can think of any way to get through to me, please do so. I actually have a pretty great life, a lot to live for, so this is, frankly, just plain dumb when distilled down to it's essence, which is I am contemplating suicide because I'm embarrassed.

I have been hopitalized inpatient twice and Intensive Outpatient once because of suicidal ideation. It's not something I brag about to others, but neither do I feel particularly ashamed of.

All three times saved my life, so how could I see them as anything but positive. I was sent there by doctor's who knew how ill I was. I was in a really bad way. Each time I had a major change in medications that pulled me out of the deep depression I was in.

I'm sorry if you weren't helped by your hospitalization but many are and I don't feel that it has degraded me or my self worth. I wish you could see it at least as a medicine that didn't work for you and let yourself release this terrible burden you are carrying. But you have to be the one to accept it for yourself that it is in the past and place it behind you. Best wishes to you.

Hi there. Well, like yeah, couldn't agree more and I find it pretty amazing that somebody else has actually put my thoughts into words. I don't believe for one minute that I have the right to walk this earth, nor do I wan't to. It's hard enough out there to live a half decent life when you are near on ''perfect'', so how are ''we'' supposed to get by? Rather than kill myself, which I want to do, I'd much rather never have been born. It would have saved a great deal of sadness and angst and worry if I were never born. Thanks to BPD not just my life, but my whole families lives have been total hell ~ ~ ~ it's all very very sad. I DO understand my friend. HUGS. XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I know how you feel. Getting diagnosed is a trauma all it's own. I need therapy just for that. Learning how to live with it seems impossible. The stigma it creates is crippling. My only advice is to not tell people. No one needs to know. You wouldn't go around telling everyone you had herpes if you did right? There are only certain people and situations that require full disclosure and I think those are obvious. Keep it to yourself for now. At least until you are comfortable enough to share. Until then it's no one's business. Focus on getting better and nothing else.

As an Italian daughter, there are things i know my ancestors have done that make me wonder if i deserve my place here now on earth. We make up for them the best we can. And going forward, the same applies. What "mistake" are you really talking about?

Life experiences have granted me some idea of the power of culture to reach up out of the past and move people to do things contemporary society now considers irrational.

I speculate your sense of shame has deep foundations. You may need to examine your early socialization, your family and community history to get at those foundations.

I agree with Rohag, MTJ. The experience of being unwanted, not-good-enough early in life can have lifelong consequences if not addressed -- and unfortunately not all therapists are equally good at helping people address it. Nevertheless, have you talked with your T about this? Maybe he or she can help you some more if you bring the topic up.

Another good resource for understanding the potent effect of shame is Brene Brown, mentioned in a thread here recently.

Dealing with my early stuff was extremely, extremely painful but ultimately it was healing and I no longer feel embarrassed for my behavior when I was "mentally ill" because really I WAS ill and I know that because I'm not (at least so much) any more.

Recovery IS possible. Just keep on keeping on.

I would offer that that you've actually done the opposite of how you feel. Going is the honorable thing. Not going would be selfish and possibly dangerous to others. To not take medication so you can be of service to the world, that is dishonorable.

Going to in-patient treatment is saving face. It's telling the world, "Hey, I'm a mess and before I drag you down with me, I'm going to get this fixed." Not going is telling them that I'm bringing you down in flames and we're all going to suffer together.

No sir, I can understand how you feel. This goes back to the concepts of manhood doesn't it? That a real man wouldn't have to go to the hospital. But it's quite the opposite.

I applaud you for going.
I applaud you for not ending your life.
Those are the things of honor and bravery and I feel you should be able to look in the mirror, puff out your chest and say to yourself, "I did it! I fought the demons and I'm still here!"

Gayleggg - you are always kind and helpful. I appreciate that. My T keeps telling me I have to just find "radical acceptance" of what happened. I can't accept it, it hurts so much -- it burns in the depths of my soul, if that makes sense.

Waggiedog -- I wish I had never been born, too. If this is what life has in store for me, beat me around, kick me when I'm down, I don't know. I am sick of being a punching bag for the entire Universe.

Celebrat8 -- that is the route I went, to some pretty big extremes, like a second cell phone, a post office box to use as an address for billing, etc. And, that in and of itself if nerve-wracking -- covering this up requires a level of perfect that is nearly unobtainable for mere mortals. So, I live in fear of being "outed". Sometimes I think I just take out a full page ad on the back of the Detroit News that says "MotownJohnny is a mental patient. Deal with it. Do what you want to him. He doesn't care anymore, and wishes he was dead." I have told a few people, voluntarily, and a few people against my will because they knew too much or pried into my private facts. Most of them were really good about it, but still ... you never know, and people can turn on you and use information against you.

Hankster -- the only "mistakes" I made in life were being dumb enough to get railroaded and intimidated into this. I walked in to that psychiatrist's office not knowing it would be a firestorm. I was afraid to say no -- I had visions of police showing up at my house or work and dragging me off in the back of a squad car in handcuffs. Since I desperately wanted to keep this quiet, based on the facts, I chose to do the day program -- the hospital is really close to my work, the hours are about the same. Obviously, my work/boss knew I was having medical problems, but I was able to gloss over, big-time, what it was. My family -- no one knew I was NOT at work.

Rohag -- oh, absolutely. Are your familiar with the American television program Dexter? In the third season, Dexter pursues a serial killer knicknamed "Trinity" -- turns out he is a man who appears to have the "perfect" life and family. Except for the horrible dark secrets he harbors, the way he abuses his family, and so forth. Well, my father wasn't far away from "Trinity" -- he didn't kill people, but he certainly made us live a double life. And, he hated me, took every opportunity to tear me down, so my self-esteem is pretty minimal to begin with.

Here Today -- I will check out this Brene Brown information, thank you. I know, my childhood was horrific, my T says it was one of the worst cases of emotional/mental abuse she has heard of in 20 plus years as a T.

Webgoji. I know, in a sense that is very true. But, I still feel like a failure, like a coward, like a weakling. Not man enough to live, and not man enough to die. The thing is, I went to that Dr's office with the exact expectation of "getting it fixed" and instead, I ended up about a billion times worse off than I was. I was expecting to diffuse a firecracker, I didn't know I would have to clean up the aftermath of the detonation of a Hiroshima sized bomb.

Fuzzybear. Thank you.

"If anyone can think of any way to get through to me, please do so. I actually have a pretty great life, a lot to live for, so this is, frankly, just plain dumb when distilled down to it's essence, which is I am contemplating suicide because I'm embarrassed." quote MowtownJohnny

I think that your problem is how you have determined "worthiness". If you could really have the ability to be in a position where you could listen to humanity as a whole, you would really change your perception of "worthiness".

You don't have to "accept" what happened to you. What happened to you was wrong, bad, terrible for a child to have to deal with growing up. That is a part of your history that you now know was wrong and it hurt you. What you have not realized is that as bad as it was, YOU SURVIVED IT and YOU THRIVED IN YOUR LIFE.

Just because you experience a trauma and it rattled you so deeply that you broke and needed time out at a psych ward doesn't mean you are worthless in any way. Do you realize how many of the men we respect and call hero's broke down? Abraham Lincoln battled what they called melancholy for years. Considering what he witnessed in his life my guess is both him and his wife probably suffered from PTSD.

Even Thomas Jefferson struggled with deep regrets until the day he died. But even though he was not perfect he presented some amazing ideas and ideals that are still very valued even today.

Where do you think "knowledge" comes from, where does "strength" come from? Well, it is never just given or born, it is earned through "surviving" Mowtown. We do not have to "accept" anything, if that was the case we would all be back in the stone age wearing animal skins and with a short life expectancy. Human beings have always had predators to be concerned about. We have evolved the way we have because of constantly having to learn how to survive in a world full of predators be it natural disasters, animal predators, or other human predators. We built fortresses, massive walls, devised all kinds of weapons, and we have never eliminated "threat".

And this reality doesn't just bother you Mowtown, it challenges every human being. And what drives us forward is that we do not "just accept", we keep working and creating and changing and growing, and I doubt that will ever change either.

You are struggling with PTSD, it challenges every person who develops it, and many people struggle with it in the past and even now. It stops people in their tracks and makes them really think, and some of what is learned from that is considered a truth that has helped us gain more insight and depth.

You are at a stage of PTSD that is very difficult, it takes time to move past it, it is hard and many do not understand it, yet many do once you go looking. You say that you have met others who struggle that have amazed you at how deep and thoughtful they are, what is wrong with that, is it wrong to be a part of those who have compassion and a different kind of wisdom and depth to them? Yes, many of these people are good people, wise and caring.

You are a good person too Mowtown, you don't have to accept, you can say it was wrong, but you do need to develop "compassion for self", and that takes time and patience and mercy for the humanity in self.

((Hugs))
OE

You've watched the Matrix I'm hoping?

You were given the choice of a blue pill or a red pill. You picked one of them thinking that it would instantly change things. Instead you found out that it opened up a whole new can of worms.

Your expectations didn't match up with reality - that mental health doesn't have a cure. It's shocking and frustrating because it means that there's a lot of work to do after diagnosis. You can't erase who you are and what you've experienced - you can only move forwards and find a way to integrate your past with your future.

I'm sorry that it is so very difficult for you, but it isn't doing any good for you to blame the psychiatric system. I know you had a really crappy first time experience with the psychiatrist... and that has understandably affected your trust in the system.

But MTJ, you're still YOU. You are who you were before you went through any of this. You aren't being punished. You've been given the chance to start healing, and that's scary as hell.

But you can do it. You just have to keep going forward.

I was reading one thing on-line, well, actually looking up a couple things, to compare and contrast slight cultural difference in expression, but anyways, led me right back to PC, to an article, by DocJohn, which, then, in turn led me to this article, which, if it's such a sin and so morally 'wrong', then why...

""This is the latest umbrella term for the kind of emotional collapses that have plagued humanity for ages, stemming at times from severe mental difficulties and more often from mild ones. There have been plenty of others. In the early decades of the 20th century, many people simply referred to a crackup, including “The Crack-Up,” F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1936 collection of essays describing his own. And before that there was neurasthenia, a widely diagnosed and undefined nerve affliction causing just about any symptom people cared to add."" http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/01/he....html?hpw&_r=0

Then, at the mere mention of melancholia, in this article, as being an antiquated expression, for all this. I remembered, in the Memoirs of Catherine the Great, she describes blood-letting for her nerves and 'melancholia'.

She's not the only, world leader, you know?!

Soooooo....I really, need to ask...who are you most afraid of finding out that you see counselors???? hmmmmm???????????

To all of you - I must come across as a broken record. I have been a member here for about 4-5 months, since July I believe. And, what I wrote in my opening post of this thread could have come from probably my first posts here - no growth, no change.

I am STUCK! It truly is like the concept of Purgatory - waiting to move on, either way, because anything is better than this.

OE - you must have the patience of a saint, you keep putting up with me.

RP - intellectually, I know you are right, well, for the most part. But I am not the same guy I was, and I never will be, nor can be. The thing is, I mourn for that guy - he had problems, but at least he had his pride. I don't have that, I feel disgraced.

H4M - your question cuts right to the crux of the matter, and I have read it slowly, carefully many times. I have this visceral reaction to it, so I know it's true - "THEY will reject me, ALL of them". That is my fear - everyone in my life, family, work, friends/ acquaintances, even the many professionals I have hired, such as my several personal trainers I work with - will order me out of their lives, forever, and I will be totally alone, for the rest of my life. And that terrifies me, I have spent so much of my life alone and desperately lonely. I know some people with MH issues distrust others, or want or need to be alone, but I am the opposite - I crave meaningful personal interaction, I want deep, committed relationships, I am still learning how to form those bonds. A Bon Jovi song just popped into my mind -
"I Want To Be Loved"

I had a roof overhead
Had shoes on my feet
Sure I was fed, but no-one was there
When I was in need, yeah

So who am I now?
Who do you want me to be?
I can forgive you, but I won't relive you
I aint the same scared kid I used to be

[Chorus]
I'm gonna live
I'm gonna survive
Don't want the world to pass me by
I'm gonna dream
I aint gonna die
Thinking my life was just a lie
I wanna be loved
I wanna be loved

I found a picture
Our so-called family tree, yeah
I broke all the branches, looking for answers
Don't you know that aint how it's supposed to be

[Chorus]
I'm gonna live
I'm gonna survive
Don't want the world to pass me by
I'm gonna dream
I ain't gonna die
Thinking my life was just a lie
I wanna give
I'm ready to try
Willing to lay it on the line
I wanna be loved
I wanna be loved

I aint gonna cry
I dont wanna scream
But i got so much left unsaid inside of me

[Chorus]

I just wanna be loved
I wanna be loved

Except I question the part about surviving. I work less than a mile from one major sporting goods store, I drive past another on my daily commute home. And all I think about, obsessively, is that they all the means to my self-destruction, and I really want to make that "investment in my future" and have it here, available, on 24/7 standby for when the time comes.

I have every advantage in life - money, career, education, family (even if difficult at times), community, access to health care. I'm sitting here right now in a recliner, a fire in the fireplace, the dog is asleep on the sofa, Fish the fish is doing what fish do, swimming around in his tank, my diamond doves are asleep nestled up to each other on the high perch in their cage. I have the coolest plants in this room in front of the big south-facing windows - a papaya tree that is in bloom, a cinnamon tree which smells great if you rub a leaf, a lemon tree with 6 ripe lemons, a red hibiscus that blooms all winter, 8 orchids in bloom, a bunch of original artwork on the walls. 25 feet away out in the driveway is the brand new SUV I just bought myself, loaded to the max, all of 108 miles on it now, and I paid cash for it. My office at work is just as nice, fish tank next to the desk, orchids and right now poinsettias, artwork, all kinds of tech to make work easier. I went to REI at lunch to look at a bike rack for the car, bought myself a $200 cycling jacket on impulse without batting an eye. My closet is full of designer clothes and expensive shoes and ties. I live in a fantasy land here, my entire town does, it's one of the most affluent communities in the US, it's the American Dream on steroids. I have poured a ton of money into fixing myself, when problems crop up, I give it a full-court press. I should be the happiest guy in the world, I should wake up facing each day with optimism and confidence. I have every possible advantage in life, and I could have anything, pretty much, I wanted, including the ability to move up professionally, I could go to law school or get a different advanced degree if I wanted to. AND ...

... ALL I can think of is how great it would be to kill myself. Because I can't live with the shame of where I was or the fear of being abandoned.

(((Mowtown))),

First of all, it's ok if you are stuck and it doesn't matter how many times you come here and talk about it or repeat what you are feeling. I am patient with you because I genuinely know what you are going through, I have been where you are, stuck and frustrated feeling like I lost my psychological identity somehow. I would get up and stare out the window and look at my pond and my pretty place and wonder where that person I was went that had so much get up an go and productivity and vigor. It was as though something broke into my brain and hid "me" somewhere and whatever "was" there had no light in it. It is strange how one can have people all around and yet be so lonely and lost.

After I wrote to you in this thread, I hoped that you would not be pushed in the wrong direction by it. What I try to do for you is I try to find things for you to think about that can counter act the core "negative" messages that your father instilled in you as a child.

When a child is parented by a parent that not only doesn't nurture him/her, but sends so many negative messages of unworthiness, that makes it very hard for a child to have that core of "value and sense of worthiness to thrive in life". What "can" happen in that scenario is the child can develop a sense of spite and desire to "I am going to thrive and do well in spite of what you say about me, you wait and see, I will prove you wrong".

Well, that isn't all bad, that can take place because of how we are designed to have the capacity to grow angry and actually decide to take on a challenge that can fuel us with a lot of drive. There are endless examples of that to bring up, and all of these examples are what encouraged human beings to stake out new territories all over our planet. These new territories are not only in taking over new habitats, but also in developing new technology and wisdom to be pushed out onto others so that others will respond with reason and direction as well.

However, when a trauma happens that comes out of no where and penetrates so deeply that it threatens and disturbs us to the core, and sets us back so deeply that it shatters that driving force that had such a sense of "empowerment and control", a person can really get lost and suddenly develop strong fears and confusion because of how they "were" so deeply penetrated. Now, this does happen in our childhoods, in different ways, and our parent/parents are supposed to be there when it happens to slowly help us
learn by comforting us and talking to us, teaching us, and being there to encourage us until we face whatever it is and realize we can learn how to overcome it and our parent sends us a message of approval. That can also come from mentors too. That is what has been "missing" in you. That is your "core hurt" Mowtown and your core "hurt" is how your father kept sending you these very negative messages and because you have been traumatized and set back, your core is thinking "maybe he was right, I am worthless and now that I broke and needed help and struggle, all the people like my father are going to see that and decide I am worthless and fair game like I was as a little boy that could not fight back when my father hurt me."

(((Mowtown))), this is what has to "heal" in you. And because this "hurt" has been there so long and you have worked around it, it is not going to be overcome in 16 months. I do not like the phrase "radical acceptance" either. I don't have quite the same "core issues as you do", but I am also very challenged and I have realized that "my core hurts" that are deep and the only thing I "have" accepted is that I have to slowly figure out what is there and how to finally learn how it hurt me in ways I didn't realize, mourn whatever I lost because of it, and slowly learn how to repair and rebuild and move forward.

For myself Mowtown, I have been victimized and let down so many times, when I look back the "hurt and injury consumes me to my core". I can look back at that child in me and feel to my core that I was such a good natured child and was constantly being challenged by so much dysfunction that I never really knew what feeling "safe" really felt like. I realize that what I "thought" was that with each bad/traumatic/scary thing I experienced that after it was over I got past it and it was gone/over. I never imagined that it was hurting me the way I see it now. When I look back and feel that little girl, I WAS DAMN BRAVE for such a little child. I do see that over and over at different traumas I had to endure throughout my life. I could never understand "how or why" others could be so bad or wrong or mean because what others did to me, never entered my own mind to do or think about doing at all. For as long as I can remember my constant question was "why". I just wanted to know "why" Mowtown, because the things I saw were just so unproductive to me, and I could not understand how anyone could feel a reward from being so bad like that, it just didn't make any sense to me. However, my constant little inner fire said, "No matter how bad, I am going to be good because what I see is bad and wrong and I am not going to be like that no matter what".

Mowtown, I never changed that "core" either and I was constantly challenged over and over almost like other people "needed to break that in me or be so bad that they resented me and somehow needed to break me so I would end up getting pulled down to their level". I was really challenged sometimes and near breaking and often at such a loss that I could not even go into a church because I would just break into tears and embarrass myself. So I used to wait until everyone was gone and sit outside the church in front of the cross affixed to the side and just cry and ask for guidance. After I did that, I would make sure that I would look for anything I could grab onto that something positive to think about. And oddly enough I did come across messages here and there that I could grab onto to help me keep going. It could be in a movie, a news article, a question from my daughter, something I overhear someone else saying, believe me, I really looked for something and it did come but I often had to be very patient.

I went on that way for a long time until what I did build up that helped so much was so badly invaded that it just broke me completely down. I had this pony that came into my life and she was such a gift and made many things open up for me. When my daughter was picked on because of her dyslexia and had a hard time making friends this pony was so nice that I could have my daughter invite other little girls over and she could ride her pony and the other little girls could ride this pony who just took care of any child and was safe. I used her to teach so many children how to ride on, I took her so many places and she was always amazing even with children who were so severely handicapped.

It was like god gave me a gift to help me along in spite of my husband's alcoholism, that hurt me so bad yet I stayed with him while he got sober and was so involved with that that I was often alone a lot. I was not considered 'good material" when I was a girl scout leader because I was struggling with an alcoholic husband. When that came out the other mothers withdrew their children from my troop and I had to find a way to explain to my daughter "why" all of a sudden she lost all her friends. God, it was so hard Mowtown, I was so challenged and at the same time trying so hard to raise a child that struggle with dyslexia and could not understand "why" she could not read and spell like her piers. And I had to be strong even though I never knew if what my husband was going to do next that would challenge me. He was a good man, but he was a wild card that tended to compromise anything I built up that was positive.

Well, I kept working at it, and I had that pony and she helped me in so many ways. She helped me with my daughter and she helped me begin to develop my business where I made money and found some other ponies and I built up a healthy productive environment for my family and my husband also began to get involved and it gave a positive direction and did a lot for my little family. My husband had always loved children, actually had wanted to work as a special ed teacher, but when he was in college his exposure to that was too hard on him emotionally. So I had a pony for him to take out that allowed him to utilize that part of him and be able to work with children in a positive way. That pony too was like a gift and him and that white pony were pals and it was so helpful to him and positive that he grew with that in his life. He did work at other things, but this was something that "fed him spiritually". And my daughter was very involved too and she ended up becoming a really good rider and it was nice because though school and her dyslexia was a challenge, this part gave her rewards for working at something and achieving.

That was all destroyed by my neighbor's dog Mowtown. My special pony got hurt bad and in spite of my efforts to try to save her, I lost her. It just broke me and I didn't know what to do with that deep pain, so I went in the church this time and suddenly people came in and I was at a pew and I was crying and these people sat on the other side and a woman came out and began to talk about "dealing with priests and children being molested". This woman thought I was crying because of that, and what was really hard about that is that "I was victim of CSA" not from a priest though, but I had also been raped and that was the last thing I wanted to think about that day. It was all I could do to get out of that church that day.

I didn't do well, because all I was doing was tending to my damaged animals and my neighbor was so mean and I didn't have enough money to pay for the vets I needed to have come out to see what was hurt in them all. I finally could not get up anymore and I just completely broke down. I just didn't want to get up anymore at all, so I went to a psych ward and it was horrible because the psychiatrist was from India and he thought that what I was so hurt and angry about was totally unreasonable and he called me a narcissist and they all treated me like I was wrong and selfish to be so hurt.

My ponies were like my children, I loved them sooo much I appreciate all they did for my family and they were destroyed, BUT APPARANTLY I HAD NO RIGHT TO BE SO COMPLETELY GRIEF STRICKEN about that.

Mowtown, everyone was so angry with me for being so hurt, it was TERRIBLE. I don't even know how I managed to hang on because I wanted to end so bad.

I saw it happen and it haunts me and I have a neighbor who was negligent, wrong, letting their dog out at night knowing it would get into my yard because their electric fence was broken, but they figured I would not see it at night. What is so hard for me is the amount of protection he has even though they do not respect my boundaries, even tore down my no trespassing sign standing there in front of me saying they don't like it and that they knew their system had not been working but it is my word against theirs.

I hired a lawyer that failed me because he has dementia and it took me 5 years to finally get another attorney to see it.

I know all about "fear" and maybe I will lose and the bad guy will win. I know all about feeling like "a punching bag" believe me Mowtown. I am so intimately aware of those very dark thoughts and everything you are saying. I know right where you are because I look back at my own psychological footsteps as I read what you are saying.

But Mowtown, I also see the "good" in you and I want you to find your way to seeing it too. That is why I am so patient and believe me I listen intently because I do know where you are in this struggle they name PTSD. You need time to "heal" and slowly "learn" how to see yourself differently, life differently, and slowly find your way to embracing that good man in you in spite of what ever has challenged that. That has been my journey too. But you and I are not alone with that either, and you have not really taken that in yet, and I am still working on that part myself, but I have made my way beyond where you are so I know it comes "slowly". It's okay to feel it though, and reach out and ask these questions, because you need to realize you are not alone, you are actually in good company and you have seen glimpses of it. You gotta keep trying and I know how hard it is, but you really are not as alone as you think you are.

(((Caring Hugs)))
OE

((Mowtown)),

You know how you feel about these creepy people online and how they pose a threat to you?

Well, I live with that reality every day, and every single day the people who hurt me are right next door to me and I have to see and hear them every single day. Often when I am on my way to see my therapist I will be going down the road and my neighbor is coming at me going the opposite direction. I can't believe how many times this happens to me and that it is at a time of day where it is not the time of day when people are going to or coming home for work or lunch. It happened again this week and this time I made myself look at him and because I did that I suffered flashbacks and I passed the turn I was supposed to take to go see my therapist and by the time I realized it, I was too far in the wrong direction so I ended up going home and luckily I could do my session over the phone. I am lucky that I have developed a relationship with my T so I can do that because sometimes I am struggling so much that I just can't drive the 45 minutes to get to him, and pass that damn psychward where I can look up and see the window I stood at staring out in shock at what had happened to me that led to my staring out that window in such a creepy place.

I struggle every day with this bad entity right next to me and he "has" challenged my boundary in other ways too. He has popped up to confront me when I am "alone" and though I always fight back, and I do have this lawsuit going, I never really know what he will do next. It is a very creepy scenario for me to have to exist with every day, believe me.

OE

What I "do" see in you Mowtown is "sensitivity" and you have not yet learned what that means and you tend to think of it a "the weak part where you feel too much and therefore must be unworthy somehow".

You say:
but I am the opposite - I crave meaningful personal interaction, I want deep, committed relationships, I am still learning how to form those bonds

Many of the men that ended up being "great" had these same deep feelings, Mowtown. Nelson Mandela whom we are mourning had these deep feelings. He had to learn how to fill this desire and as he did so he touched many. While he was locked away from most of humanity for so many years, he thought a lot about it. And your 15 months is a mere droplet compared to how long it took him to settle so much of his mind. For 27 years he was a punching bag, considered a horrible criminal cast out and locked away and abandoned. Did he deserve that? Were his "ideals" that dangerous and bad? He was not in a psych ward, but much of what "you" fear, he lived.

People who happen to be born with this "sensitivity" have proven to be "significant" to mankind. It doesn't seem possible that sensitivity can end up becoming so powerful, one would think it must be a weakness because of how "feeling" so much can be so overwhelming at times and often it can also be so misunderstood and demonized that one would wonder if it is a gift at all. He never really "accepted", not really, because he kept standing up for what he believed in and against what was wrong. It had nothing to do with macho, and everything to do with heart.

Something to Ponder

(((Hugs)))
OE

What I found, finally coming out of 15 years of depression since my late husband died, is that I needed a genuinely supportive community, which my family of origin was not. I loved them, maybe they loved me . . . but all, or most, of what we supported about each other, was the "outside". We all learned to cover up our deep pains. Other people didn't want to see them. And I know that when my daughter was little and looked at me like I had hurt her, I pulled back, rather than going toward her, because I identified with her pain but I had never resolved mine, or had it accepted by anybody else.

All you have to get through is one minute at a time, one step at a time, one breath at a time. I told myself, every time I felt unbearable pain, and it went away again (because I dissociated). . . every time I have felt that I have "borne" it for the instant before it went away, and eventually I have gotten through it (I think).

Today I went to a meetup group with other people to celebrate life, and I was happy!! Yes, happy to be there and although I left early it's one more step toward life, not away from it.

I think maybe that that deep shame is so painful because it separated me from me -- I was torn asunder, had been since early childhood, only I had also "covered it up" somehow to keep on surviving.

Eventually mine has come (is coming) together. I'm wishing you the best for your journey -- one moment at a time.

There have been some pretty awful things in my family--including my ancestors also-like inbreeding, lots of sexual abusive, violence, etc. I have even wondered if there was a curse put on my family thousands of years ago. But, we cannot help or control what our relatives, whether distant or not, have done. We cannot undo anything that's already been done. We can only go forward from this moment on and do our best.

That being said, I also know how hard it is to grapple with SI. I struggle with on a regular basis. One thing that always bothers me is that I did not grow up in a "functional" family; I've cried about it often.

One book that I read years ago was called "For The Sins of My Father." I don't remember the author's name, but it's a true story. The guy who wrote it was raised by a man who was in the mafia. He loved his father very much, and in many ways his father was a good father--he always provided for his family, and loved his family very much, but then he had this secret life and had murdered many people, ran a prostitution ring, sold drugs, etc. Well, his father was murdered and found in a trunk; the author talked about how he kept feeling that he was bound to be just like his dad, and that he was "stuck." But he kept trying his best to live a good life, and eventually things just fell into place, and he realized, that he did have a choice. It's a really good book.

p.s. no, I do not think it's a crime or sin to need help or seek it out.

I just do not know how to get across the chasm. I know I could be happy, but I can't do it. The entire thing has taken on a life of its own. I think obsessively about it - nearly 24/7. Every good thought, every positive mood is followed by "yes, but I am mentall ill, they will hate me" or "I have been in the psych ward, they will crucify me if they find out". It is as if I never can find peace again.

Meds haven't helped. 16 months of weekly therapy haven't helped. Alternative medicine hasn't helped. Being self-indulgent hasn't helped. Frankly, I have only done one thing that has helped, it is my extreme fitness quest. But it isn't enough.

I am convinced that people will crucify me if they find out - I see this scenario in my mind, coming home some night and finding my family there to confront me, telling me to get out, take my things, and never come back. Maybe even have the police there to force me to leave. Or, the other scenario, they try to have me committed. Either way, I am a dead man.

I know it is irrational paranoia. But I can't shake it.