Survivors of attempted murder: what's your story?

Ya, I had anti-depressants for a while but they made me feel like a pussy. I grew up chopping wood, and fighting, and "being tough" and it just felt like I was trying to become ambivilent. I do self-medicate by smoking weed though, but I think it's because the weed stigma feels less like mental illness and more like "a cool thing to do." No one really looks at you with a solemn expression when you tell them you smoke weed, where-as if you say "oh ya, I'm on buproprion" they tend to go colder in their response. It's also wrought havoc on every relationship I've been in because the people I'm with just can't get it. They don't get that it doesn't go away, it's with me forever whether I want it to or not, it's there. It's imprinted like a cattle brand, and god forbid I drink. If I drink whiskey, holy shit it's like that torture cage opens and all those demons flutter like fucked up flies circling a garbage heap of drunk. I don't want to be that, so I just don't drink or whatever, but still the minimal seepage of just every day dealing with it is enough to feel like its poisoning me. I instinctively hate people who had fantastic lives growing up, out of some primal jealousy. I sabotage my own relationships because I want to push the boundaries to see if this person really means they love me, because "i've heard it before." So I wind up pushing people away. It doesn't help that I'm somewhat attractive (not vain, just in that I work out a lot and seem to have random women talk to me) so I never know if they just are persuing me for my looks, and when I do hook up with them it's always in my mind that this will all turn to heartache once they find out how truly damage I am inside. It's not fair, I don't want to carry this, but in this life I have to have strong legs, as you do. My mom killed herself. That was the one gift she gave me, because I know that I'll never kill myself -- just to spite her. All this pain, I bear it to spite her.

/r/AskReddit Thread Parent