Introduce yourself.

Anyway, life was weird growing up. I definitely had ADD, OCD--maybe more since birth. Some doctors suggest autism/aspergbers, some suggest borderline personality disorder, some suggest bipolar. I learn towards borderline, but they all fit somewhat. I lived in la la land. I just didn't understand the world around me.

But the thing was, I was ridiculously smart. Like I'd only be able to pay attention a small amount of the time, but even with that short attention span, I excelled in school and what not. So basically, my parents thought I was a smart ass. That I enjoyed messing with people playing dumb, because it just didn't make sense that someone so smart in some things could be so stupid in other basic things.

I was really ignorant about life. It made little sense to me. I spent a lot of my time in my own head. Never really cared much for others. Always felt I was special. Maybe because I was smart or maybe just because I never really related to anyone else. I eventually knew enough to see that life was a competition. And I knew I was "winning" at least in school, but I didn't really care.

Anyway, shit started to get bad in middle school. Teachers had enough of my smart ass-ness. Lots of trouble, and my parents, being immigrants, were pretty harsh. I mean it started out just once in a while, but it grew to a regular thing by 8th grade. I was regularly in trouble at school and regularly in trouble at home.

Trouble at school wasn't so bad. Just meant detention, suspension, sitting out on recess, nothing that horrible, except the message I constantly got that I was an asshole---which gets hard to ignore after so many incidents. Anyway, at home shit sucked. Constantly got the crap beat out of me. Sometimes my dad was a little drunk and went over board. But it was partly my fault. I would never admit I was wrong, and I never cared to understand others or be understood. I was full of anger, and I would stupidly fight back and curse out my family, not realizing it was a losing battle. There were times I slept in the basement, on office chairs, got no dinner, had rocks thrown at me, belts, bruises, scratches.

The teachers questioned my parents and me about some marks, but I always denied it. I don't know why, but I was very determined to keep up the appearance that I was normal. I always smiled and said what I thought people wanted to hear, and I never ever imagined sharing my troubles with anyone, though almost everyone knew something wasn't right. It got worse in high school, but I was still determined to turn things around. I tried hard to be cool in school, because home life was shit, and ya, school ended up being shit too.

I had horrible social skills. I really didn't understand other people. If you can imagine an autistic person trying to be popular...that was me. I failed miserably. Whatever. There were people who liked my weirdness, and I guess I have always been decent looking even if not handsome. And some people tried to be friends with me, but it scared me so much. Anyone who saw anything in me, I immediately assumed was delusional, and I ran far away from them. I still regret one girl who tried so hard to befriend my for multiple years. .Don't regret the rest though. They liked me only for superficial reasons.

Anyway, I found out about alcohol one day in high school, and I was in LOVE. It warped reality. It was awesome. I wanted that escape, every second of the day. So the next day I brought vodka to school. I made it about 4 hours before getting caught. I was piss drunk. Got kicked out of high school, but being smart and all, they didn't want to ruin my college chances, and I eventually went to a pretty competitive college, despite having a horrible disciplinary record---in fact, though I considered others to be worse, on paper, I was probably the most punished in the school. Still I was never expelled. There was always one or two teachers who thought I was misunderstood or something. They were right, but even they eventually gave up on me.

I remember one night in the basement I was filled with anger. I hated everyone. My parents, teachers, the kids at school. I realized there was no hope for me to ever be normal. To ever fit in, and succeed in this competition. In fact, that even though I tried so hard to be popular when first starting high school, that I really didn't even care about the stupid popularity competition, or girls, or cars, or money, etc. I resolved to fix things for people like me. I still remember that exact moment. I decided a happy life was beyond my ability, but I was too scared to dye. Instead, I resolved to spend what was left of my life fixing things so that others--like me--currently suffering in the world or minorities in the future, would not suffer like I did. Politics was my first idea. I was smart. I figured I could be a politician--even president--and as such, I would make everything fair again.

Whatever, I get to college, and again I am determined to turn things around. No more family. Nothing. I was alone, and I felt so optimistic. I went to parties, drank, did drugs regularly, and tried to be cool. Like in high school, I was a polarizing force. Some people absolutely hated me, some people loved me, most people didn't care much. Regardless, I didn't really fit in, and the drug use got to the point where I ended up in the hospital many time.

I remember getting kicked out of college, and going back home. I was so angry. Because I had mostly supported myself in college. All my life, I was scared to leave my parents. I depended on them for food, and I had little hope I could make it in the world without them. But during college, I realized I could make it without them. Not only was minimum wage enough for my modest lifestyle, but my school would actually pay my tuition for me if I couldn't afford it and had been separated from my parents. I was so angry to have never left before.

And so I left. I was resolved to do drugs and just enjoy life as best as I could alone. I worked 70 hour weeks, and it wasn't exactly fun, but that was when I first started getting some street sense. The kind of common sense stuff they don't really tell you in school. But I was still very weird. Looking back, I admire the fight in me. The desire to keep going and keep trying. I eventually went back to college. The same school that kicked me out even. I worked incredibly hard to get good grades, while working 30 hour weeks in school. My motivation for politics was long gone. I had seen enough. Politics was a dirty game. Not only had countless intelligent people tried to make positive change in this arena, but they dedicated their lives to the cause and...had next to nothing to show for it. I wasn't willing to put all my eggs in one basket, as I tended to lose in the end.

I started becoming altruistic. Little things at first. I went vegan, composted, recycled, donated, volunteered. That was easy enough to change myself, but I had to do more. I wanted to impact the world. I joined an activist group, and did a ton of awesome things. I set up donation bins for gowns after graduation.. The plan was to collect and rent out used gowns for $5, all of which would go to AMF. The bookstore found out, and offered to use recycled materials, discount their gowns, and donate $.25 of every gown they sold to AMF. Being that they were more sustainable than I could be (I was still very much a loner, and would be graduating soon, I agreed.) We postered to reduce food waste. We collected food and extra dining dollars at the end of every semester for the local food bank. I used to dumpster dive at pizza shops and bagel places and give free food to my friends and the homeless. All sorts of little things that seemed high impact to me. I mean a couple hours, and two trees planted. Or a couple hours and $200 donated.

Slowly, I started to improve. When it came time to enter the corporate world, I was nervous. I knew enough about financial services, to know that even if I donated most of money, I would be contributed to the problem of inequity no matter how good I was at my job. What could I do? I still knew I was smart, that money was power, and the idea of power still appealed to me a little. I mean I had excelled in school and work and gotten rewarded for it at times.

So I got a corporate job in IT. Why IT? I had been dreaming about a site like eahub for a long time, and figured I might be able to pick up web development---though I worked mainly on R and Python projects in college. Anyway, my motivation was dwindling, but I actually did pretty good. I was a well respected employee at Freddie Mac, and I donated a lot of money (as you know). More than that, I got around by bike (as I had done in college), went to the gym at least every other day, ate very inexpensively (rice and beans, some dumpster bagels), and was incredibly frugal---in part because I was used to having little money, and in part because I didn't want to give away my financial power. I knew about GiveWell, and they got all my money (or their recommended charities rather), but I didn't know much about EA. I just knew enough to know that GiveWell was the best place to find charities. (Not Charity Navigator which I had used in college up until hearing about GiveWell.) I also volunteered, planted gardens still, composted, whatever little things I could think of. I even picked up recyclables I found on the road to bring to the recycling bin at work or at my house.

Anyway, during this time I was actually looking well. My team liked me. I smiled often. My coworkers liked and respected me (come to think of it, I was generally always liked by my coworkers, though there were jobs where management didn't like me. I was a hard worker, and I did like to make others laugh...even if I wasn't good at doing it intentionally.) During this time I even became spiritual for the first time, I always sympathized with Islam from back when I studied politics, and I appreciated many of their pillars. Christianity--though I loved the story of Jesus--was a huge turn off to me, living in America and being well aware of the hypocrisy of the church (though Pope Francis has changed my mind significantly). A lot of my coworkers were Hindu or Sikh, and I was also open to their beliefs---which I was not biased against like Christianity, and in fact, even biased towards because I knew Sikhs suffered from racism. Also, I love the closeness, openness, and honesty my coworkers showed each other. It was not typical to see in America.

Whatever, I was doing okay. I was lonely for sure, but I was finally doing what I had resolved to do with my life, and I looked very good on the outside. Believe it or not, I was actually pretty buff and, in general, well-liked by most people, even though many thought I was at least a little weird. It was around this time that I made my first real friend. I had had friends before, but it was more like because it was the expected thing to do, and I wanted to have fun like everyone else, but this was the first person I cared about.

Her name was Zahra, and she was from Iran, alone in America having just had an arranged marriage with her husband some years ago. She was desperate for a friend, and really liked me. At first I thought she was weird (remember I was always skeptical of people who liked me) or shallow, but I really grew to like her. Like me, she was a kid. Like me she struggled a lot with the competitive society she grew up in. She wanted to get promoted, get a PhD, etc., but at the same time, the idea of working for it was stressful. Whatever, we were friends. She needed one, and I liked being nice to people.

She was alone, and cried a lot, and I sympathized her, and we did sometimes talk about inappropriate things, but I was never intending to destroy her marriage. In fact, I think I took a vow of celibacy around this time believing that relationships would take time away from my real goal of improving the world. Anyway, her husband was wealthy, also Muslim, and could provide for her better than me. (I would never buy her fancy jewelry, or take her to a nice restaurant. I was very committed to donating the majority of my money).

Still, I was depressed. I don't know why. But I knew I had mental issues. I had been forced to see doctors all my life. My parents and I were both against medicine, and I was able to avoid it...though not the therapy---that was a constant in my life since high school. But anyway, I finally decided to try drugs. First, because I didn't want to waste my money on the illegal kind, second because I didn't think it was spiritually healthy to take drugs like I once did, and lastly, because I could finally accept that I did have mental issues.

Anyway, it took sometime, but the ADD meds worked well at first. Then Zahra went to Iran to visit her family--for the first time in four years. She only hinted to me about what happened, but I was able to piece this together--her dad and husband basically chastised her for not being a good Muslim, for being emotionally intimate and spending lots of time with a man who was not her husband. She came back and was cold to me. Like she would still talk and hangout, but she wasn't honest anymore, and no matter how much I begged she would never explain clearly what had changed. I stopped taking my meds thinking that must be the problem. That must be why I was obsessing over Zahra, when I had never cared about anyone before.

The depression got worse, but I fought through it. I was committed to my mission--EA or whatever you call it. Freddie Mac had ended their donation matching program, so I got a job with GE. Besides having the best donation matching program in the country (by far), it was a company that rewarded hard work, and I believed I was smart and capable of getting those rewards. WRONG. I aced the interview process no doubt. They flew me first class and everything. But things didn't work out. I never had any closure from Zahra, and it hurt me so bad.

Every weekend, I tried so hard to go to work and start volunteering. And within a week or two I would always fail. Fist, I'd last a month. Then, 3 weeks, Then, 2. And soon not at all. It was a paralyzing depression. I couldn't understand it. I couldn't get out of bed. Couldn't brush my teeth. Couldn't eat. It was constant pain. Scary movies were my favorite escape. And being that I lived frugally, wouldn't you know my roommate ended up being a drug addict.

I don't know if I understood at the time, but Zahra hurt me so badly. Not because I wanted her to love me, but this was my initial though which made me feel worse. Just that I had always been there for her. Every little thing I could do to make her happy, I was happy to do for her. And the one time, I just wanted her to be there for me---to just tell me the truth, she wouldn't. I told her I was hurt and that I had started using heroin. Still, nothing. It wasn't long after this that I had my first suicide attempt.

See I had always been big on life insurance. I figure my risk of death is higher than most people, because I tend to live recklessly, and I figure my life is more valuable than others because I plan to donate significantly, so I always opted for the highest life insurance plans offered by my employers. You know--statistics, expected value, whatever. I had about ~$1,000,000 in life insurance from GE. I was becoming skeptical of my ability to make it another month, let alone another year. I was desperately reaching out to psychiatrists, but no one was helping--and all the decent ones were booked up for months in advance.

I couldn't stand myself. I hated myself. Every bad thing I had ever done--however small, constantly played in my head. I thought I was evil. Worse, I couldn't understand how Zahra could be so evil to me after everything we'd been through. Anyway, it really made me question my whole goal. Like maybe the world wasn't worth saving. Like maybe, even if I save someone from malaria, they just end up being an asshole like Zahra anyway. I know now that Zahra wasn't an asshole. She was human. Like me. And flawed. And conflicted. And actually acting in a pretty appropriate fashion considering that we were somewhat inappropriate, and there were lots of rumors going around the office that made her look unfaithful. And I knew full well her husband didn't trust me, even though she did.

Anyway, I figured better to go out with a bang, right? $1,000,000 dollars was tons of lives. So I hung myself after reviewing my life insurance policy and knowing that it would pay out for suicide. Interestingly, altruism ruined the whole thing for me. I planned to hang because I knew that would ki ll my brain first, and the rest of my organs could be donated--saving or drastically improving about 5 lives. The problem was that my body had to be found soon after I dyed. I sent my cousin an article about a boy who survived hanging because his parents stopped him a few minutes in. He now lives as a vegetable. I figured my cousin would know enough to let me dyr fully rather than let me live as a vegetable. To be safe, I had somewhere I was sure it would take police a while to find me. I called and hung. It HURT. What an uncomfortable way to dye. Fuck that I said. I'll slit my wrists and go peacefully (I figured blood loss would be peaceful). Too late, the police were looking for me. I assured them I would take myself to the hospital, but they were probably trained to worry about liability and they took me themselves. No big. Id been to the hospital before, almost always against my will. I knew the drill. Id be out soon with good behavior.

Anyway, the hospital was a joke. But I did get on some good meds. And I met a girl there, a prostitute, who really opened up my heart again---made me believe that humanity wasn't evil. She was open and honest and fighting despite much suffering. The prostitute was also a heroin addict, and she told me, "If you want to see the devil. Do heroin on the streets." I don't remember, but we may have been talking about our love for scary movies at the time. Anyway, the meds worked for a while and I thought I was so stupid to ki ll myself. Life was great. I just needed to be properly medicated.

Well, my room mate the heroin addict, went downhill. And I remembered my friend from the hospital, Ashley was her name, saying that heroin is a way to see the devil first hand. And talking to my roommate about his problem, I became obsessed. Once and for all, I would resolve the winner or good and evil. I would get myself hooked on heroin. And being that I donated all my money, my decision to donate or to buy drugs would reveal the stronger force of the two. I was so high on prescription pills, I was confident I could beat heroin addiction or anything at the time.

Well, I overdosed. Dyed. For long enough for police to tell my family I was dead. I don't know what happened, but I guess my family drove to the hospital and started freaking out, and the staff fought really hard to bring me back. I remember waking up disappointed, and just wanting to go back to sleep. And I remember the horrible look on my mom and my sister's faces as I regained consciousness. Still, I felt invulnerable again. I had again, survived death. I had nothing to lose. Everything I did from here on out was bonus. And I resolved not to let me family suffer like I had seen them when I regained consciousness.

So what did I do? Well, with a record as horrible as mine, the hospital refused to discharge me, even though I insisted it wasn't a suicide attempt. Back the hospital. And the hospital didn't want the liability of discharging me, so they sent me to a PHP. And PHP didn't want the liability, so they sent me to an IOP, and the IOP didn't want the liability, so they mandated I move in with family for a year and see a doctor regularly. Whatever, I didn't want to dye. I had fight in my the whole time they made me waste in psychiatric programs. Whatever, it was around this time that I realized GE had been plenty lenient and my employment would end soon--legal bullshit aside, I was a good worker, but I was far from reliable, and I knew the team was--rightfully--frustrated and disappointed at my many absences.

This is when I reached out to Joey and you for the matching dollars. I figured my time with GE was up, but I would go on to work another job, I just wanted full advantage of the matching before I left a company as generous with donation matching as GE. I really didn't intend to ki ll myself at this point. Anyway, I felt fine in the hospital. Surrounded by other depressed people who I could relate to. But as I got out, and moved home, depression got worse and worse again. Luckily, I had to pay you back, so I wasn't in any rush to end things. I eventually got back on some decent meds, and have been working my way up.

Also, I don't want to send that message to people who know me. The one of "life can be so shitty that death is preferable." It's a hard thing to swallow, and either they wouldn't, and they'd pity me for my insanity, or worse, they'd believe me, and have to live with that belief. Either way, I was determined to make things look nice this time. I would make a nice letter, like I had moved to Ethiopia or India to do hands on charity or to confront my drug addiction away from triggers, here was my stuff (I didn't have much), keep it safe. Be back in a year. I even planned to have e-mail messages go out on birthdays and holidays, so they'd think I was okay for years to come.

But I wasn't trying my hardest. And I had resolved to try my hardest before putting my family through that hurt I saw on their faces last time I woke up in the ICU. So I tried really fucken hard. Openness, honesty, willingness, tons of therapy through NA, psychologists, tons of money for the best psychiatrists (who turned out to be no better than the ones who take insurance anyway), and lots of hard work. It sounds easy, but I had become so pathetic, that like right now...waking up at 10am everyday, doing a couple hours work, eating three meals a day, and showering most days is progress.

And of course, I have a job lined up. In teaching nonetheless, and I always enjoyed volunteering, and teaching urban, disadvantaged students, is basically like making volunteering my full time job. And I have lots of other options to try--psychologist (thats many years away), non-profit employee, givewell researcher, so many things I can give a shot before I call it quits. In retrospect, I understand why everyone is still concerned about me. It's only been a year since shit hit the fan, but really I am doing better. I handle depression better. It doesn't last more than a day. I force myself to be productive. Open and honest with people. And try to stay away from escapism behaviors.

Anyway, I'm only about $2k away from paying you back, which means I only have to make it a couple weeks as a teacher, and I can DEFINITELY do that. So ya, trying again. Gonna get a job. Volunteer in spare time. Continue to fight and pursue the commitment I made as a little kid. Why do I feel optimistic that I will get it done? Humility is the key difference. For the first time in life, I acknowledge that I don't know anything. And I am prepared to be open and honest with others, build a network, and get feedback. Will it work? I don't know, but I have faith, and I have seen it work for others.

That's my weird story. Maybe you can relate a little.

Hi my name is Tanya

I suffer from bipolar, depression, anxiety and many more I been going though this for awhile now I have been suffering from addiction sense 2001 that relates to my anxiety.

I have no support system to get though what is going on.

I'm Andi, and I've been suffering since I was 12. The last two years, I've been doing okay, but every once in a while, I'll relapse. When I am in a down-swing, I mostly waste away. I will drink water, because my mouth feels funny when I don't, but I refuse to go outside or eat or interact with humans.

Hi I'm Leigh. My mom and step dad always labled me as a over hormonal child. And never took the time to understand the stuff that was happening to me. When I turned 16 I moved (or as my mom would say ran away) to my fathers. He noticed right away something was wrong. Since then I've been diagnosed with depression. I'm on a twice daily medication. I have good days like everyone else, but still my bad days are horrid. My dream is to become a nurse. So I can help others.

hi idk what I'm doing but I have anxiety. not bad, but bad enough. I don't mean to complain or seek attention bcsI know so many ppl have it worse off than me. I cry myself to sleep every night. but not as much during summer bcs I don't do stressful things as much. I have the easiest life, but I'm constantly overwhelmed by the simplistthings. I think I'm slightly ADHD. and I think I have GAD. but idkI don't saman talk to anyone about it so there's no way to know for sure

Hi everyone. My name is Dani. Truth be told, I didn't realize I was depressed until one day, I just sat there, questioning if my life is worth living. There comes a time, a short time, very seldomly,when the answer to that question isyes. But now, as of the moment, it'sno.When I was young I accepted all the love given to me, and I grew up happy. Then i became a teenager and realized I wasn't given that much attention and love as I used to. My mother has always been away, I live with my grandparents. We've reestablished our relationship after we had this huge angry screaming match of howshe was never there for me and told her that she didn't have the right to tell me what to do because she doesn't know me.

Almost a year ago, my mother remarried. I am sincerely happy for her. She's six months pregnant now and I know that this child, thiswanted child will be much more loved that me, the accident, the kickstart to my mother's alternate future. I've come to terms with the fact that my life is insignificant, that I will be gone soon, and all who grieved will smile again and forget about me. I will die and nothing good will come out of it. I wouldn't have a book or movie made for me, no parks of my name, no movement inspired by my life. I'm a little insignificant soul and I know that.

To be very honest, I want to ask for professional help. You can never say that what I'm feelingwill just go away because it never did. I just want everything to be gone. I just want to be free.

My name is Dani and I'm upset.

Been depressed for more than 4 years and started to become an agoraphobic recluse with avoidant personality for 2 years already.. Unemployed as well and seems like I won't see any change in the near future unless I somehow have the guts to end it all..

Hey guys. I'm just turning 15. Life story. Okay.
My family used to do foster care so I was around other kids for awhile & it made me appreciate what I have. I started moving in 5th grade. I moved to a great school and I felt like I was fitting in but then I had to move in 6th grade. I was bullied at that school a bit.
In 7th grade, I moved all the to Missouri from Nevada. I cared about popularity so much I bullied some kids and left my close friends for it. When I began picking on my brother, I stopped and realized what I was doing wasn't okay. I've definitely became a better person now though and I feel good about how far I've became. My dad was working all over the state so he missed most of this part of my life. During the summer I started thinking I was depressed and I cut into the wall writing hell or I hate my life or something.
8th grade I worried too much about boys and my grades started dropping. I wasn't so close to my dad anymore and I began arguing with my mom a lot.
9th grade I started cutting and started dating a guy. 9 months later [just June] he broke up with me. That last time I've seen him was the day we had sex [i gave him my virginity]. He cheated on me 3 times, lied to me a lot, canceled on me a lot, kept taking breaks with me, and we argued a lot but I was so caught up defending him and making myself love him when instead he was hurting me. My grades were so much better this year. But I started hanging with the wrong crowd. I started smoking weed and cigarettes. I started giving people alcohol and drinking. I'm trying to find new friends but I don't know what to do. I ruined my family connection [mostly with my dad] by dating my ex after everything that happened.
I'm not sure If I'm depressed or have anxiety but I think I have Pure-O OCD. School is the only way I feel like my life is together. I'm trying to see my value but I just can't but all my friends and family tell me I am worth so much. I've made a lot of mistakes this last few years but I'm making a big change and I'm excited to see how everything plays out. I'm working to graduate early and go to Duke University to become a neurologist.

Hi guys it's good to be here,I'd like to share some things that have been bothering me for quite some time.

Ever since my grandpa's death since 3 months ago I've be finding myself often going into the darkest parts of my mind constantly thinking negative and my self esteem dropped a lot.

Not only is this due to his death and that me and my mom lived with him for 10 yrs but now since he didn't sign the contract for getting into the payment process for his house that he got from the military for his service.

And now mom is always in a fearful and anxious mood constantly being negative and thinking how we are gonna have to leave the house back to the army and have to pack our stuff again and go back to living with my dad's parents.

The house is almost always drowned with negative beliefs and I can't wait to go outside to the gym and not listen to this toxic nonsense.

Also I live farther from my old friends and it's discouraging for me and them to travel so long to see each other so that is even more depressing for me and I feel isolated and tend to spend most of my time at home feeling trapped there listening to this negativity.

I wanted to work for the summer so i can get a new PC but the firms that I posted my CV's to haven't called in ages to give me a job so i can earn some cash.

I feel like everything I try fails and I lost that old feeling of excitement that i had as a kid.

The financial situation with my family is a lot worse since their jobs aren't that high paid and my grandpa was a big help when he was alive with his pension but now we just survive from day to day having enough money for some food but that's it.

When my dad comes to visit mom and me from time to time he's fun and all but after a brief moment of laughter they sit and ponder how everything is against them and I just stay in my room and hear that depressing stuff and feel useless since i can't do anything to help mine or their situation.

I know that i should do something but I'm paralyzed with fear and i think that every day I'm wasting my youth and the best parts of my life.

I have these fantasies of being rich and an entrepreneur and living with abundance in this amazing lifestyle of traveling and doing these amazing things for my growth enjoyment and the wellbeing of others but this constant feeling of being stuck is killing me.

I'm a little bit nervous about posting this; so many of you have genuine reasons for feeling depressed and I want to give all you strong fighters a hug...but at the same time it makes me feel like a fraud.

Hi, my name is Eliza, I've been struggling with depression for over 3 years now but I feel like I've hit a new low. My horrible depression journey began in my 2nd year at University triggered by a toxic living situation, social isolation and backstabbing friends (the details and such like I am trying hard to put behind me and don't like thinking about because it just makes me feel worse) - but the fall out left me with a total lack of self esteem or self confidence, a massive self hatred and scars both physical (self harm) and emotional. Since then I've come a long way, through many ups and downs (I won't bore with details) and if you'd asked me 6 months ago I have told you I was beating it; I was winning - How stupid of me to think that.

I now find myself waking up to the fact that I am NOT ok again. My brain feels like mush, I can't focus (in fact making myself focus to write this is one heck of an achievment atm), I have no attention span, no motivation, i'm emotionally numb a lot of the time (when i'm not crying for no reason) and I feel tired all the time.

It terrifies me (well - it would, but my emotions are all flat - but mentally I know i'm scared) because this is not how my depression has manifested before, and I don't what to/how to handle it.

I have a job as a PhD Student (which I'm in danger of losing and therefore massively disappointing my family and friends), a wonderful supporting Boyfriend, no money worries (unless I lose the job of course), a lovely flat and safe home environment, hobbies (which I keep ignoring) and friends (which I keep disappointing). I have it all, no reason, no right to feel like this.

I'm finding myself not going in to work, not able to concentrate to write papers, not leaving the flat, not wanting to even get out of bed and get dressed most days. I eat too much (which just makes me feel worse), I sleep too much, I don't do any of the stuff I used to (reading, music, church etc) and making myself go to things (e.g. football,climbing) takes a stupid amount of mental effort (even though I enjoy it once i'm there).

I don't know how to fix it but I know I need to try and I know I can't do it on my own.