@maxdancona,
Thank you for the thoughtful response. I don't check this site very often.
I have tried talk therapy. The therapist I met with either wasn't paying attention to what I was talking about, or wasn't absorbing it and giving meaningful thought to it. He seemed like he was going off a script in his head, and was just throwing cliched sayings at me. He also recommended mind altering medication after barely getting to know me.
I'm just going to paste some comments from another thread of mine here because they are relevant to what you mentioned.
Me:
Quote:There were also other factors I'm not sure if I feel comfortable talking about ...the mental health industry is quite a joke actually. It's a very real thing that people who actually need the help fall through the cracks. Most of the people working in this field just view it as a 'job'. They don't actually care.
jespah:
Quote:
or, you could try another therapist
Me:
Quote: I would like to speak to a therapist who is my same gender. I don't think it's too much to ask or to expect.
When I asked for a therapist of my same gender, the person in the scheduling department seemed shocked that I would ask such a thing.
I can't imagine the reaction would be the same if I was the other gender, and I know I would have no problem being accommodated.
Turns out that the therapist I met with is the only male therapist my insurance company will cover. And I live in a very large city. I investigated this further through counselling options available through my job, and even free options available through other means. I found one other male therapist ...over 100 miles away, with no phone sessions available as an option.
I tried to kill myself a few months ago. It's quite a scary thing, facing death at your own hand. I couldn't do it all the way. I'm scared of death. I actually posted here about it before I tried. I got banned for a month and my post was removed.
I care way too much about people, my old friends and family specifically. I've never emotionally gotten over my dad's death for example. I'm better to people than they deserve, even to the point where I've hurt myself sometimes by sacrificing my own needs for others. Not talking about women, but friends where I went out of my way and never was appreciated for it, or reciprocated by the other person. People have taken my generosity for granted and felt entitled to it in the past. I think I want to have connections with people that can't exist in reality. I'd like to believe that people can be selfless and unconditional in their friendships.
If you read my post about my elderly friends, I actually re-assessed our relationship in my mind after re-connecting with the woman after the male died. I now think they never valued me as a friend the way I valued them almost like family. Family I wish I had.
I talked about this in my topic "Real Love". I want to believe that friends and family I've had, and appreciated in life weren't just random luck. But they were ...that's all they were. None of my friends were ever capable of caring about me as if I were family, and the only reason my parents loved me, was because they shared so much genetic material with me. I especially want to believe that my dad had some kind of special bond with me, because I miss him so much. But it wasn't some magic bond. We shared 50% of our genes and that's it, that's all it was. And because I'll never share 50% of my genes with another person again since my parents are long dead, I'll never experience the closest thing to 'real love' ever again in my life. It's a hard truth to accept, that there's no 'magic' in life, no mystical connection between anyone that isn't explained by evolution and survival. But it's the truth regardless.
Life is pretty awful when you have no connection to anyone at all. That's why solitary confinement is used as punishment in prison.
The only two things that really matter in life are luck and money. Life is a completely random crap shoot. If you're unlucky and born without good genes, you're essentially fucked unless you have money. Even freedom is less important than luck and money, because you can buy freedom if you have enough money. You can't buy good genes, but if you have enough money you can buy a life where it doesn't matter quite as much if you lack them. I'm not particularly ugly, although I've allowed myself to become somewhat out of shape because I just have no motivation to care for myself. But even though I'm a normal looking person I cannot connect with other people.
Sometimes being lucky by being born with genes that make you pleasing to others is far more important than just being born with genes that make you 'good looking'. For instance, think of your favorite comedian. They might not be 'good looking', but there's something about them that makes people drawn to them, and that comes from their genes. The sound of their voice, their cadence, mannerisms. Another person could write 'better' jokes and material, but if they weren't born with the genes that make a person pleasing to others they could never be as successful.
Alan Watts is correct that life is a game to be played, but high scores and objectives matter in games, otherwise we're just giving out participation trophies.
I hate to say it, but I think some people might actually be better off killing themselves. If there isn't enough money available to them to buy a more comfortable life and they have poor quality genes, they would be fooling themselves by thinking that if they keep chasing the carrot and working hard that it will ever make a difference. Some people are just fucked. If I'm being honest with myself, my predisposition to depression is likely a sign of genetic defect. Since, for instance, the mental health field has no sufficient resources available for men, taking a voluntary leave one day may be the only rational option I have if my mind gets too dark and overwhelming to live with. I worry about attempting and failing, becoming disabled in the process.
Life cannot have objective meaning because life is finite. One day even the most remarkable person who ever lived will be forgotten, because time will erase them and all that they are and were. In that truth, and only in that truth does luck cease to matter.