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I need someone to talk to

The stress of holding my emotions in all the time for so many years is breaking me. I need some time to make my next post, but just admitting that makes it a little bit easier.
 
Welcome to the forum. Although I'm sorry you find yourself her I'm glad you your here. I think you'll find loads of support here.

Sending hugs your way!
 
Before and after my diagnosis I spent a lot of time taking baths. They were my only way to get away from everyone around me. The more pain I was in, the more I would bathe. This is important to know later. I was diagnosed ~age 12. When I was better (after my first and so far only surgery) I ate some unhealthy foods I hadn't been able to have because I couldn't eat food for like 6 months. I got a little fat, this didn't bother me. But then I got a little fatter and my skin suddenly was covered by stretch marks. I looked them up and realized they would never go away. This made me cry, I had worked very, very hard on keeping nice skin and a nice body and now, in my eyes, they were already ruined forever before I could even legally buy a dildo. This meant I would never have one real sexual experience before I couldn't stand looking at myself. I managed to slow down for a while on the weight gain.

But, after starting high school things kept worsening emotionally for me. For many, many different reasons I could never get over my bad times. Every single time I tried to pick myself back up things would happen to make me feel twice as bad about myself. I became near-suicidal and eventually became incredibly wreckless because every single thing I enjoyed in my life had been taken from me by that point. Either my disease, my family, friends, school, or my pride managed to make me feel bad about anything I enjoyed.
 
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Eventually I lived on a night schedule, again to avoid my family. This was not, because I didn't love them, but because I had been told not to do experiments in the house because it's "not a lab" as well as because, after a time, I was incredibly easily embarrassed. With that I did experiments behind my parent's backs. When they were at work I finally had a chance to indulge in my two only two vices (at the time) science, and masturbation. Both made noise and the walls here transmit sound perfectly. But when my mom lost her job I couldn't find anytime to be alone and make noises that embarrassed me. I ended up, oft times, just spending every waking moment looking for the smallest window of opportunity. Whenever I found one they would suddenly appear, an the opportunity would be lost. It only took a year or so of that and I gave up. At this point I spent my days doing one of several things a.) waiting to go to bed, b.) being upset at my steadily declining grades. or c.) working to fix those grades. By the next year I needed something decent in my life. I hated every second of every day. I knew something was wrong. It turned out that something was the synergy of my already existing depression, and a growing vitamin D deficiency. I suspected the deficiency, but dismissed it, never realizing just how long it had really been since I'd been outside in the day and thinking at most it was a mild deficiency when I was down to 8 ng/ml (minimum should be 20). I had stopped going on walks sometime before so as not to seem like I was doing drugs (who wouldn't assume I was at this point? I seemed suspicious). The idea of me disappointing my family that much hurt, a lot. So I just couldn't seem like I was doing them (and at the time I wasn't).

Eventually I did start smoking weed. After the first time I tried it I knew it was for me. I felt better physically and mentally, and best of all I got to have fun in a way that wasn't going to destroy my body. At first I had no problems quitting, and still don't from a psychological point of view. But somewhere along the line I stopped taking my medication for about a month (due to various reasons). I had no symptoms during this time, while my parents were busy with work I found that I had to sometimes remind them about my medicine. This was initially fine, however, eventually thanks to many details I'll leave out, as well as miscommunication, an infrequent gi visit, and my inability to properly recall what people said at this point, I managed to "convince*" my parents to stop picking up my medication for a while. I had no symptoms from this. In fact I felt fine (minus the emotions). I ate normally and experienced no pain and good bowel movements.

Since I'm about done for the night, I'll add this. I'm doing fine now physically, and luckily this episode doesn't seem to have caused major damage. Thanks for reading. It helps just to write this. I never even kept a diary before because I couldn't hold myself together if someone found it. Writing this was harder as my story is unique enough to ID me.
 
Eventually I lived on a night schedule, again to avoid my family. This was not, because I didn't love them, but because I had been told not to do experiments in the house because it's "not a lab" as well as because, after a time, I was incredibly easily embarrassed. With that I did experiments behind my parent's backs. When they were at work I finally had a chance to indulge in my two only two vices (at the time) science, and masturbation. Both made noise and the walls here transmit sound perfectly. But when my mom lost her job I couldn't find anytime to be alone and make noises that embarrassed me. I ended up, oft times, just spending every waking moment looking for the smallest window of opportunity. Whenever I found one they would suddenly appear, an the opportunity would be lost. It only took a year or so of that and I gave up. At this point I spent my days doing one of several things a.) waiting to go to bed, b.) being upset at my steadily declining grades. or c.) working to fix those grades. By the next year I needed something decent in my life. I hated every second of every day. I knew something was wrong. It turned out that something was the synergy of my already existing depression, and a growing vitamin D deficiency. I suspected the deficiency, but dismissed it, never realizing just how long it had really been since I'd been outside in the day and thinking at most it was a mild deficiency when I was down to 8 ng/ml (minimum should be 20). I had stopped going on walks sometime before so as not to seem like I was doing drugs (who wouldn't assume I was at this point? I seemed suspicious). The idea of me disappointing my family that much hurt, a lot. So I just couldn't seem like I was doing them (and at the time I wasn't).

Eventually I did start smoking weed. After the first time I tried it I knew it was for me. I felt better physically and mentally, and best of all I got to have fun in a way that wasn't going to destroy my body. At first I had no problems quitting, and still don't from a psychological point of view. But somewhere along the line I stopped taking my medication for about a month (due to various reasons). I had no symptoms during this time, while my parents were busy with work I found that I had to sometimes remind them about my medicine. This was initially fine, however, eventually thanks to many details I'll leave out, as well as miscommunication, an infrequent gi visit, and my inability to properly recall what people said at this point, I managed to "convince*" my parents to stop picking up my medication for a while. I had no symptoms from this. In fact I felt fine (minus the emotions). I ate normally and experienced no pain and good bowel movements.

Since I'm about done for the night, I'll add this. I'm doing fine now physically, and luckily this episode doesn't seem to have caused major damage. Thanks for reading. It helps just to write this. I never even kept a diary before because I couldn't hold myself together if someone found it. Writing this was harder as my story is unique enough to ID me.
Are you on medication now? Even though you see things going on there could be damage going on in your body that you are not aware of.
 
Are you on medication now? Even though you see things going on there could be damage going on in your body that you are not aware of.
Yes, the last two paragraphs (I cut off because they weren't ready) mentioned this. I meant to put it at the end there too. Goodnight and thanks for the concern.

Edit: Yes it seems more concerning where I cut it off. I had mild activity overall (judged via colonoscopy) during those years, and have been seeing my gi more regularly. I currently take 6-mp while continuing marijuana use. With the deadly combo of massive stress, vitamin deficiency (especially d), and low medication I'm just lucky to not have had a massive flare.
 
I've had Crohns for 30 years, a very sick 30.. I'm very aware of isolating yourself at times, laying in bed for days even weeks at a time.. The lonely feeling that you can get from thinking noone would understand because it's to embarrassing if you tell ALL the details.. Hek, I still deal with it.. The emotional breakdown can be as bad as the disease after a while.. I just signed up with this site today and really hope I'm responding right.. Hopefully I did and I'm here to tell you, I'll talk with you and to you.. Try to be easy on yourself BTW I'm a 53 yr old male and my name is Jim
 
I've had Crohns for 30 years, a very sick 30.. I'm very aware of isolating yourself at times, laying in bed for days even weeks at a time.. The lonely feeling that you can get from thinking noone would understand because it's to embarrassing if you tell ALL the details.. Hek, I still deal with it.. The emotional breakdown can be as bad as the disease after a while.. I just signed up with this site today and really hope I'm responding right.. Hopefully I did and I'm here to tell you, I'll talk with you and to you.. Try to be easy on yourself BTW I'm a 53 yr old male and my name is Jim
Thanks. I've started to be easier on my self. It took so much effort to get my feelings and thoughts in order. Ever since I felt my strength returning when I was restoring my Vitamin D levels I have been working at releasing my feelings in a healthy way instead of letting them burn away inside. I I'm a 19 yr old male BTW. I'll post here more tomorrow.

Edit: "ALL the details" That really is the bear isn't it? It's not just embarrassing, it hurts because some of the things I would have to say would absolutely hurt my family's feeling. I just hate doing that, they worked so hard all the time and were always there for me and I just couldn't tell them anything.
 
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