Hello! How's it going? Fine! Of course it is. Of course it it. Conceal,
don't feel. Don't let them know. It's not going fine. Not at all. For 13
years now, since I was 17 (you do the math), I have been using drugs,
weed mostly, to suppress how I feel...
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Hello! How's it going? Fine! Of course it is. Of course it it. Conceal,
don't feel. Don't let them know. It's not going fine. Not at all. For 13
years now, since I was 17 (you do the math), I have been using drugs,
weed mostly, to suppress how I feel and to function generally. I suffer
from autism, as well as depression, I was diagnosed with the former
about 5 years ago, and the latter, when I was around 12. I have traveled
around Australia, living in different cities, until settling in
Brisbane, where I have been for the last 11 years. Don't come, it's a
trap. I had some treatment when I was an adolescent, such as
counselling, as well as medication, but was to little avail. Slowly,
over the years, I have learned to cope with the feelings of self-hatred
and general sadness by masking them with drugs and alcohol. I have been
doing this for, as I said, 13 years, and it has somewhat amplified the
difficulty in socializing, and increased feelings of paranoia generally.
Also, it has cost thousands of dollars. Generally around $4,500 per year
for your average Q-a-week smoker. That's probably around $58,000 I have
spent on weed in my life. I mean, damn. And it is detrimental to, like,
doing stuff, you know. Other than smoking weed, and getting more weed to
smoke. Perhaps putting something on to watch while you smoke weed.
Running out of weed and then stressin' about not having it, then having
to go through the gauntlet of getting it, and then the cycle repeats.
And I'm afraid. Of a lot of things, like that nothing really matters
because we're all going to die and be forgotten. And even if we are
remembered forever, the earth is swallowed by the sun, and that's it,
everything we, and anyone ever, has ever done, has ever fought or died
for, gone, boom, meaningless. Nothing remains of humanity but a few
drifting satellites, some with golden records, "Greetings from Earth" it
says, a brochure for a world that no longer exists. And that's it for
us. So what's the point? And on top of that, we could all be in a
simulation. Or this could all be in my head. I think, therefore I am?
Can I ever prove the existence of myself? Please help me, I have been
high for too long, and I'm scared of what is waiting for me when I come
down. How can I stop abusing drugs, get over my existential crisis, and
generally be happy and get on with it? I want to let it go, but I don't
know how to escape this kingdom of isolation I have crowned myself the
queen of.
How do I talk to my doctor?
