Why do things always need to go to shit.

Burner acc specifically just to rant out my thoughts (hopefully) without being found. Suicidewatch mods didn’t like this one so I came here ig sorry to be a burden.

(TW mentions of S**cide later on) VERY long rant. Sorry to anyone who reads all of it and thinks its a waste of time.

As some background: I’m 17 (going into senior year in highschool) and as for pronouns idfk at this point. I’ve also had extremely severe mental health issues for years now.

I was enrolled in an intensive DBT program recently, and that actually sort of seemed to turn my life back on track. My family life is fine mostly aside from extremely obsessive parents, and I fucking hate school and everything in it due to only recently diagnosed severe adhd (nobody thought I had it for the past 11 years of school and I suffered for that) and being surrounded with people I honestly just hate due to their insufferable fucking apathy to everything and their massive egos. I just wish they’d see their place as currently insignificant 17 year olds so they can move on from thinking the world revolves around them and actually do something with their lives.

I also got put on vyvanse which actually really improved my quality of life which I love, but thats where the “problems” start according to my parents.

My parents are extremely obsessive about everything, including weight loss. I hate it. My father threw out every single thing in the house he deemed to be “non natural” and flipped the fuck out at everyone who objected. That was a while back though. The general idea did not change though, as we only ever eat “healthy” things (in reality, “healthy” is anything that is included in a strict weight-loss diet)

This was all fine until a while ago. I have been in my dbt program for nearly a year now (I want to quit though because they stabbed me in the back and knowingly gave me a therapist who I don’t like at all because he does more harm than good) and things were starting to look a bit better, but then I dipped to being 30 pounds underweight.

Last year I got 4 brain surgeries and 2 brain infections, which isn’t too relevant to this except for a few parts. Those surgeries brought the total to 23 brain surgeries and 3 infections over my 17 years, and the recent ones (aside from the ones fixing what the doctors fucked up and failed to diagnose- two deadly infections SIMULTANEOUSLY destroying my brain) were to treat low pressure hydrocephalus (my little demonic medical condition I hate). Low pressure hydrocephalus caused me to hate eating because I puked up nearly all my food due to nausea or pain. Worst part is that its not deadly like high-pressure hydrocephalus which has also contributed to 12 of my surgeries (I wish something would trigger it at this point because for me its 16 hours from symptom onset to brain damage and death and death is sounding awfully appealing again…) Because of that I lost 40 pounds or so to the point where I was on IV nutrition in my personal hellhole of a hospital. I’ve never really recovered my eating habits since, and thats severely fucking with my life now.

After I got out of the hospital a while ago (well nearly a year now), my girlfriend of 1 year broke up with me (which I don’t blame her for because I was really shitty cause I let my love for her lead me to being overbearing about helping her recover from her own mental issues) and I tried to kill myself for the 13th time. I realized that it’s actually really fucking hard to die at least where I’m at. Canadian healthcare is bullshit but they keep you alive usually (except for the part where they nearly let me die 18 times and my family needed to fight them to make them acknowledge I had severe infections and medical equipment failures n’stuff). I wanted to change something.

So I started by trying to get into road cycling. I’m not really sporty at all but I found that I was extremely good at it and was progressing really really fast to the point where I was doing routine races and 100km+ rides every few days after only a month of trying to seriously train. (I was dipping my feet in the water for it for 3 months or so but I was actively recovering from the insane physical toll of being hospitalized for neurosurgery for months on end). The bad part was that it takes an insane amount of calories. I gained back a lot of the weight I lost in the hospital from all of the IV shit and stuff they put me on, but because of my cycling I went back to being 20 pounds underweight again and only started to lose more. My vyvanse which is one of the only medications that fucking helps with my adhd also didnt do well for that.

Now that I was very underweight, was on medications that only made me lose more weight (which my parents might talk to my psychiatrist about taking me off of), and was doing a sport that I love that requires tons of energy, my parents started to mention every single day more and more that my eating habits were awful. That hasn’t stopped since. Nowadays we get into really nasty fights every single fucking day, and I’m scared of what will come of it. I’m being forced to eat till I nearly puke, but I have no desire or interest to consume food at all. I need to though, because I’m burning over 3000 calories a ride plus I have living to do outside of that. I’m also nearly sure I’ll get enrolled in an inpatient eating disorder program because apparently I have a fucking EATING DISORDER (and I’m NOT EVEN SCARED OF MY WEIGHT) which will stop me from doing the only sport I’ve ever enjoyed, and I also have VERY severe CPTSD from all of the times I’ve been hospitalized. I’ve also been extensively hospitalized under the mental health system which is notoriously bad here in Canada, so I swear to fucking god if I’m forced into a blank room with a bed made of dull plastic with a plastic blob as a chair in the corner and NOT A SINGLE OTHER FUCKING PIECE OF FURNITURE I PROMISE I will tear my guts to shreds because I would rather DIE than give up the progress I have fought for and the one physical activity that I can do every day without needing to pay that I actually enjoy…

I had a recovering life. I had therapy. A streak free of self harm. A sport that I loved that was putting me in the best shape I’ve ever been in. Adhd medications that made my life immeasurably better.

Now I have a therapist I don’t like, a summer break thats nearly over to another year of hell, the potential of removing my ADHD meds which I can not function without, the threat of stopping my cycling which will take away any desire I have to routinely work out, needing to eat till I vomit every fucking day, and the looming threat of a hospitalization which I won’t make it out of. Guaranteed.

I hate cruel existence.

If anyone is still reading at this point, thank you for dealing with a random stranger’s bullshit. You’re awesome (: