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>live with dad >he gets really depressed around holidays

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>live with dad
>he gets really depressed around holidays
>pretty sure it's clinically Seasonal Affective Disorder
>even tho no diagnosis
>had a rough childhood, lost dad to suicide, his mother beat the shit out of him
>im the only living member of our family that is close to him

>he won't leave his room
>i ask if he's alright or suggest he come out and at least hang out with me in living room
>doesn't want to
>extreme lethargy
>any time he does spend some time with me
>conversation goes negative, no matter how much I try to keep things light or reassuring
>he gets either more depressed or angry

What more can I do? Do I just leave dad alone?
If he isn't willing to help himself, there isn't much you can do.

At least attempting to keep him busy is better than nothing.
Yeah he's depressed, but just leave him alone if he wants something he'll talk to you. Maybe you can make a meal for him? Talk to him then?
Sounds like extreme depression. He should probably be admitted if it doesn't let up/gets worse.
He's been in this "No hope for me" mentality for a while. Some days go better than others. Myself and some of his friends suggest that he break free from his past. He's very intelligent, loves philosophy and shit. He's fixated on this one philosopher that suggests we are literally made of our past experiences. But my dad has warped this ideology in a way that is self-defeating. That since he is "made of bad experiences, he is a bad experience."

I do cook most nights, we've been eating leftovers from thanksgiving though. He often says I don't cook right and is just a general downer on my meals. I don't think he means to be this negative, but it makes me feel like not cooking sometimes...

You know, despite being this way most years. He's never wanted to end his own life. His father's suicide prevents him from every going there.
I know how he feels.

For the passed week and a half I was in that "all hope is lost" state. I've been pretty much shitting the bed in university: skipping classes, neglecting work, all around just not giving a fuck.

This caught up to me a week and a half ago and I basically shut down. I didn't even bother going to school where as even on shitty days before I'd always manage to haul my fat carcass there, even if it was just to fuck around and do nothing productive.

This isn't the first time I've reached this point before.

About a month earlier I had gotten to another all time low: not getting anything out of class time(I've just been diagnosed with ADHD as it turns out), was frustrated with my inability to grasp material, was disgusted with myself because I wasn't living up to the standard I had set for myself, angry that I wasn't going to reach the greatness I had obssessed over, etc...

This culminated in me coming to the conclusion that I would never reach the reality I had dreamed of. I was crushed. I had a mental breakdown. I ditched my shit somewhere at school: my phone, wallet, various things I had in my pockets, my notebook which I threw in the garbage, and my gym bag.

I was planning to kill myself. I was gonna jump off the bridge that spans the Halifax harbour. It seemed like the only escape.

I didn't though. Cowardice held me back. "What a fool." I thought. I was just some whiny pussy who's problems were petty. It was insulting to all those who actually had it rough and somehow mustered the extreme courage to do what needed to be done.

This amplified the disgust I already had for myself. Woe is me AGAIN, being an intolerable self pitying faggot AGAIN. But even though I told myself this I knew I was just doing so to appease my own narcissism. Yet I still felt like shit. Despite coming to the indirect realization of my own stupidity and pretentious naivety, I still felt a hole in my soul, so to speak. The fact I still hurt but not enough to end myself.

I felt trapped. Caught in a neverending cycle of complacency and unhappiness. This was maddening.

I sat on a rock under a low hanging tree for about 45 minutes looking at the ground and brooding about my life until I finally got up and moped all the way home. I tried to look as miserable as possible on the way, maybe even more miserable than I actually was. I was secretely hoping someone might take notice and maybe somehow save me from my mess. Nobody did. Nobody cared, it seemed.

Eventually this led to me ending up in my bed moping even more now with renewed feelings of worthlessness. I was brooding even harder and with darker and more vivid imaginings.

I eventually decided to take a bath. Three minutes later the cops broke into my house and I overheard one of them say "missing persons" I immediately started to panic as I knew they would eventually find me.

A knock came at first and then an officer called to whoever was in the bathroom asking about a young man named "Eric". It was me they were looking for. I responded immediately and told them I was getting dressed and would unlock the door.

Long story short, I choked up like a little bitch when they spoke to me despite trying to hold it back to preserve my "macho hard ass" image. It was pretty embarrassing being so vulnerable in front of people I didn't know and I still feel stupid for being so weak.

Anyway, turns out my friend called the cops after I went missing. Security at the school corroborated this with the police when they found my personal effects and my cellphone buzzing with texts from my boss asking where the fuck I was. Turns out somebody did give a shit.

Funny thing about this pathetic little event is it's also not the first time I've gone through this before. I'd been struggling with dumb shit like this since I was in my early teens, whether it was crying silently in my bed after a three month long stint of skipping highschool and football practice to feed my WoW addiction freaking out about the realization of my own mortality, to making a makeshift noose out of a long piece of electrical cable and sitting next to it imagining the repercussions of hanging myself.


Jesus, get to the fucking point already
Each time I managed to get passed it somehow and came to some ultimate resolve about life. None of those resolves actually held though. They were, after all, just the damage control my mind created to self empower itself. Each time it happened I felt this sense of enlightenment and ultimate sympathy for everything, sort of like how I do now. Yet each time I didn't really learn anything.

The changes I was planning to implement after each of these episodes were too reckless and unrealistic. They weren't sustainable. And each time the facade ended life resumed back to normal and I felt stupid for once again falling prey to my own naievity and emotions: it was a never ending cycle, really.

Sorry, just trying to establish a framework for the point to make sense, sorry if I'm droning on. Please bear with me.

Anyway, today, the same nonsense happened again. I managed to haul my miserable ass to school and met up with some friends and eventually my mood lightened up. I was joking around and having a good time with my friends again. I took a double dose of my ADHD meds and took some preworkout then went and smashed a massive PR in the gym.

I felt invincible. Back to the same feeling I had every time after a low point.

This time however I reflected on this fact. I thought about how I would just come down from this high and be back to the way I was before, with no permanent change to myself.

I decided I wanted to use this high point to get some kind of permanent life improvement and so I sent an email to the psychiatrist who handled my ADHD situation and asked to book an appointment for my longstanding mental issues.

Jesus Christ this is some long ass copypasta
Basically, today I realized that sometimes you're just not strong enough to fix your shitty life. I know it sounds obvious, but there's a reason so few people get help for this shit.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I think it has to do with the fact it makes people feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. Everybody wants to be self-made and independent, or in my case, a tough guy. It took me a really long time to figure this out, as stupid as it seems.

OP, the only thing you can do for your dad at this point is just be there and support him as much as you can with as much love as possible. It's ultimately going to be up to him to find the strength to get the help he needs.

TL;DR: If you think you're suffering from depression, find the strength and courage to FORCE yourself to GET HELP.

/End autism
Oh and just as a side note because I had too much to say and suck shit at writing, I also had that same kind of "deadman walking" mindset where you doom yourself with reason. Mine was spurred on by nihilism and my feeling of inadequacy. I quashed that today too. It's really couter-productive, no matter how much sense it makes.
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