There are a number of resources pinned on this community for those in need of extra help.
Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite. And if they do? Bite them back!
Mod here. Please flair as NSFW. See pinned post from VubDapple.
We've got a few pinned posts with a wide variety of resources; please check these to see if any look promising. More importantly: use them. Call 988, or a warm-line. You've already taken the first step by posting here. Keep going.
I fully agree the two avenues you've reached out to so far can be useless. Formal, one-on-one treatment lags massively beyond need--every news outlet runs stories, citing politicians who allocated big bucks to resources... which take years to get anything accomplished, and likely get bogged in red tape, slush-fund budgeting so you and I get nothing.
People around you often play comparative games: "ooh, let me tell you about MY issues; blah, blah blah; you see? they're worse than yours, so just suck it up."
However, I disagree that there's nothing special about you, or that you're taking resources someone else might need more. You matter, more than you know. You deserve, as much as anyone, love and help.
There are some good responses already... far less than 5 months.
Two additional strategies. (1) Meditate. If you're not sure how, let me know; I can suggest some good free starting points. It may seem stupid, irrelevant at first. But I've found it's a remarkable way for me to know what I'm feeling. If I can sit with the feeling long enough, sometimes I can figure out why I'm feeling that way.
(2) Reach out, spread good. It doesn't have to be dramatic, like "helping someone in more need than you are." Sometimes, it's letting someone trying to make a left turn into traffic the space to make that turn. Giving a compliment to a random stranger.
I struggle with depression too. I've earned it--my partner with Alzheimer's is in a nursing home I call "Roach Motel" it's so badly run. (No, this is not "my problems are worse than yours.") I visit daily. I brush her hair, hold her hand, holler for aides when they ignore the call bell--I make a difference in her life. I like some of the aides, and I think others are pure a**holes. But I bring in inexpensive snacks, give compliments when I can, and treat people with a crappy job with as much respect and kindness as I can muster. Some days, I REALLY don't want to visit... but I make myself. And always, when I leave, the depression has lifted a little.
Been through grad school, 1980s. Survived. Tenured. Emeritus. Retired. I'm sure it's only gotten worse. The whole thing is set up to weed out… basically a whole bunch of people, because higher ed is not providing enough jobs for people with PhDs. (Yes, I know there are advanced degrees that don't lead to an academic job.) And it's set up to provide a slave labor force of teachers for undergrad classes. A lot of fine people end up bag ladies, or moving off to organic lesbian goat farms (two examples from my peer group).
And it's functionally a stress test, to find the cracks, before grad students get out in the real world and face the insane demands of a life of itinerant adjuncting, the horrors of seeking tenure, or the other professional jobs that require higher degrees. If they crack after graduating, they can take a lot of other people down with them. (Seen that happen, too.)
That doesn't excuse any of it, not by a long shot. A whole bunch of stuff in this world needs to be reformed. But: it does offer a chance to see that it's only a game—and if the game is something that makes you miserable, you need to find a different game. A game where you can find ways to be kind, and not perpetuate the misery.
You might try this website: https://dontcallthepolice.com/. It lists resources in major cities. I checked several randomly, and all seem to have a "youth" section. When you click on "youth," you may see resources, or you may see "info coming soon."
At the top of that page, there is also a set of "national" listings. There are specific resources for abuse, trafficking, and so on. The most promising general resource seems to be https://teenlifeline.org/. I clicked through to that site, and it appears to have the equivalent of a warm-line staffed by other teens.
I'm first generation American on my mother's side. She came from Germany (from an area now culturally and geographically Polish). I mention that background because I want to be clear that my comparisons to Nazi Germany are not glib or superficial; they are grounded in my family, and my interest in how Hitler came to power.
Germans were hurting from punitive WWI damages. They were humilated, fragmented. They were experiencing inflation such that it cost a wheelbarrow of cash to purchase a loaf of bread. Following Hitler gave the ordinary, disenfranchised people a sense of pride, discipline, purpose. Part of that mental nation-building was identifying and castigating "the others." The Jews, yes, but also communists, people with disabilities, "Gypsies" (offensive term—Romani), homosexuals, anyone not actively "with the program," anyone who dared to raise an eyebrow in disagreement. Or those failing to give up their pot-roast Sunday dinner to a gang of brown-shirts who demanded entry into your farm home and took it in the name of The Cause. (True story.)
Americans (and the world as a whole) are experiencing scary, looming issues. Income inequality that continues to increase exponentially. Impending climate catastrophes. Failure to reckon with the legacies of slavery, First Nations colonization and extermination programs, Japanese internment, etc., and failure to reckon with boomerang echoes of that history. Social media monopolies that silo us off in echo chambers, content to ignore consequences as long as profits keep flowing. A global plague, the first of many, which everyone knew was coming, but was met with bungling lack of transparency.
I think we're ripe for fascism. People are retreating into tribal groups. We're defensive, trying to hang onto shreds of dignity by asserting membership in this or that group, and ignoring. If the tribe is deluded, we'll find a way to mentally sand off or ignore the rough parts, because it's become so important to find a place to belong, a place that makes sense. Even if it doesn't make sense. ("The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas," 1973 short story by Ursula K LeGuin. Can be found online.)
I don't have an answer. I'm scared too. I do try to read and listen broadly. I want to find out why people who see things differently think as they do. Recognize what we hold in common—base assumptions. Asking "why do you mention/think that?"
I too need alone-time and space. And I look for folks who can understand my perspectives—just as important to have support as it is to hear out those who disagree. Balance.
Sigh. I hear this very deeply. I’m pushing 70; both parents died a few years back.
First, as you likely know, you’ve opened the door, but it’s up to her to walk through it. It may take more time leaving the door open; it may never happen. “It’s not you, it’s her.”
You mention sexual abuse in her past. I’ve lived with that with my current partner for many years. It’s always been a 600-lb gorilla nobody wants to talk about, because what is there to say? I know it can distort relationships in odd ways.
My mother and I also had teen angst issues. And she had other forms of trauma in her youth which informed our issues as mother & daughter. After years very low contact, she broached the issue when I was in my 50s, and she was mid-80s. But she did so in a place or at a time where honest, open discussion was impossible—in a very public venue, or at a time when we needed to leave for another obligation. So she both wanted to get it off her chest, and really didn’t want a discussion she couldn’t control completely.
By that point, I realized she’d done her best as a mother, and it wouldn’t benefit either of us to have her Go to Glory feeling like she’d screwed me up. She had—but there was no way to fix or repair the damage, nothing to be gained by rehashing shoulda, coulda, woulda. And she had done the best with the resources she had. So I said “okay.” And let it go.
One door has closed. That is sad, and can be scary. May another door (or doors, plural) open for you to far better and brighter things.
No need for apology! In fact, it seems gut microbiome may be related to a number of brain or mental health issues. I'm especially interested in Alzheimer's—there's some evidence of a relationship, although exactly what seems very fuzzy and (as yet) ill-defined. I know that when I'm having digestive issues, I am definitely out if left field.
Came here to say "sewing." And a little beyond buttons and tears—hems, darning a sock, simple alterations. And sewing a few simple garments will not only net you those clothes, but an understanding of how garments should be constructed, so you can look at ready-made clothes and tell if they're likely to be durable, or fall apart the first time you wash them.
"I also understand how that could be seen to go against the point of federated social media in the first place…"
Federating with Meta is different from federating with individuals. It's like letting corporations be treated the same as natural persons for the purposes of voting in political elections and exercising other civic participation rights.
Natural persons may have a variety of motivations for federating. Corporations have only one: to increase profit.
And please don't say "federate now, revisit later if needed." Recall the fable about the scorpion and the rabbit facing a raging flood. Said the scorpion, "oh please, rabbit, let me ride on your back as you swim across." Rabbit said "no, you'll sting me and I'll die." Scorpion said "no I won't; we're both in danger; I have children at home; we both want to live." Rabbit said "okay, if you promise not to sting me." So scorpion climbed onto rabbit's back, and halfway across the flood, scorpion gave rabbit a lethal sting. Rabbit asked why, and scorpion shrugged; "you knew what I was when you let me onto your back."
It sounds like you may be feeling very self-conscious about interactions. It took me a long time to learn, but much of the time (I've come to realize), "they ain't studying on me." Like—other people aren't scrutinizing me or judging me as much as I think they are.
Plenty of people are so wrapped up up in their own heads that they aren't paying you any attention, perhaps not realizing how you are reading their responses to you.
Maybe it's just me getting older, but "when I am an old woman, I shall wear purple." If others think I'm dressed weird or acting oddly—what of it? I don't need (and can't have) everyone's approval. Sure—there are limits; I don't want to endanger myself or others, or provoke hostility. I don't want to be mean to anyone.
If you make overtures of friendship and kindness and are turned away, that says a lot more about others than it does about you.