u/FullOfShame93

For the third day, I switched to vegetable broth, while on the fourth day I continued with the broth and started eating some boiled vegetables, zucchini, carrots, and potatoes, the same ones used to make the broth. I am continuing to drink gradually throughout the day, but I am not using fasting salts; right now, I am drinking only plain water without additives, though I do add salt to the broth.

No noteworthy symptoms. After recovering from the dehydration, I felt much better right away. I still have the weekend before going back to work, and over the next few days, I’d like to introduce boiled chicken breast and boiled rice, followed by cottage cheese a bit later. Then, depending on how I react, I’ll gradually increase things further. I have to say I’m feeling confident because I’m not experiencing anything alarming.

My weight is at 72 kilos now. That’s an increase compared to the low of 70 kilos I reached a couple of days ago. I imagine it’s due to rehydrating, but it doesn't really matter.

All in all, it was a positive experience. My kidneys are fine, and the weight loss is excellent. It was a physical and mental challenge; I was able to see just how far I could push my body. Ten days is my limit, and I’m happy with that.

I plan to do other fasts because I want to reach 65 kg, but not dry fasts, I think my kidneys have endured enough.

I improvised a bit and definitely underestimated the impact of going without water compared to going without food. Going without food isn't that hard, but going without water becomes grueling after a week. That said, for the first week, I was surprised by how smoothly everything went.

Online sources tend to be alarmist, but I still believe that anyone undertaking this journey needs to recognize the signals their body sends and stop if they start feeling unwell. I might have pushed it a bit too far, it probably would have been better to stop at the end of day eight, but everything turned out fine in the end.

The refeeding process is going very smoothly; nothing to report. I regained my energy as early as the second day of dehydration. I had thought the physical fatigue was due to the lack of food, but in reality, it was the lack of water that was really taking a toll on me.

I hope my experience helps illustrate at what stage of a dry fast, or the subsequent refeeding, difficulties might arise, and that it helps others make informed decisions.

I believe every body reacts differently based on health status, weight, age, and gender. Regardless of the specific resources or information one follows regarding dry fasting, knowing how to recognize your body's limits is the most important thing during both the fast and the refeeding phase.

I am happy with the experience. I truly appreciated the help and support from this sub, and I look forward to reading about others' experiences in the future, including those who manage to push even further.

Compared to yesterday, when I drank only water or salted water, today I switched to drinking water with electrolytes, following the guidelines for prolonged fasting.

I haven't started eating anything or consuming broth yet; I’ll begin tomorrow. Towards the end of the fast, there was a three-day period where I didn't urinate, but resuming fluid intake seems to have been enough to get my kidneys working again.

I didn't need intravenous fluids, and so far, I’ve seen nothing but improvement. I was on alert because I didn't know how my body would react to reintroducing fluids, but honestly, I haven't had any negative signals from my body, nor have I felt unwell in the slightest; in fact, today, having managed to drink more, I feel much better. Since I am still fasting, it was definitely dehydration that was draining me, not the lack of food.

Today I resumed some activities, and I’ll go back to work in a couple of days. By then, I’ll likely have started consuming small amounts of food. My plan is to start with broth and then move on to boiled vegetables. I’ll gradually plan future meals based on how I react and feel.

It was quite an experience; I won't repeat it, but I’m satisfied that I did it. I have to say, those ten days without water were truly grueling by the end, and I’m not sure there are any benefits to that specific aspect. However, I checked my weight today and I’m at 71 kg; at the start of spring this year I weighed 98 kg, and 91 kg in early July.

In July, I did three alternating 5-day dry fasts, followed by this 10-day fast in August. I’ll continue the diet and aim to reach 65 kg, my goal.

I am extremely satisfied that I lost 20 kilos in just two months . I am sure I may have put some strain on my body, so I plan to get checked for gallstones or kidney stones. I knew this was a risk associated with fasting and rapid weight loss, but I decided to take the chance. I will use this experience as motivation to avoid regaining the weight and to adopt a healthy lifestyle. However, I have absolutely no regrets about doing it. It feels fantastic to have gotten so close to my target weight by summer; I might even reach 65 kg by the end of it.

For now, I’ve just started drinking again. I wasn't prepared for how to restart and am improvising; I had bought fasting salts, sodium, potassium, and magnesium, but I preferred to start just after midnight with a little plain water, without adding anything. After a couple of sips and a bit of a wait, I tried water with a small amount of salt dissolved in it. I had slept during the afternoon because I was exhausted, so I ended up staying awake all night, even though I didn't do anything.

I didn't notice any major improvements, and I was alarmed by the fact that I hadn't urinated for three days. I didn't know whether to involve anyone else, because online you find alarmist information claiming that rehydration is impossible without an IV, but I had no intention of doing that, especially since, despite not urinating for three days, I had no pain in my kidneys or bladder. So, I took the risk, and it turned out fine.

I was worried all day because I hadn't urinated, but this afternoon I finally managed to. Earlier in the day, I had only taken a few sips of water just to see how I’d react; later, I started drinking more seriously. I didn't use the fasting salts I’d bought; instead, I dissolved a small amount of table salt in water, 2.5 grams per liter, and drank that very gradually. It went well, and I started feeling better. By noon, I had finished a whole glass. I didn't use the fasting salts because I wasn't sure about them; I preferred using regular table salt. I continued drinking that mixture gradually throughout the afternoon and managed to urinate. That was a huge relief, because I really didn't want to damage my kidneys or have to involve anyone else. My urine was very dark, but not brown.

I’m still sipping fluids gradually throughout the day and feeling better, I wouldn't say I'm well, but better. I’m not going to use the salts I bought because all the instructions refer to fasting rather than dry fasting, and the recommended amounts seem excessive to me. Things are going fine this way, so I’ll stick to water, perhaps adding a little salt at the start, just as I’ve been doing so far. Yes, I’m improvising, but I’ve never had any issues doing this after 5-day fasts. I’m happy I’ve managed to start urinating again, as that was my biggest concern.

I felt terrible yesterday and only managed to finish the day because I decided to sleep; I'll probably go back to sleep now. I wouldn't say I feel great, I was hoping for a smoother process, but it's okay because I can drink without issues, my condition isn't worsening, and it seems my kidneys are functioning.

I might use electrolyte salts tomorrow, though I'm not sure yet. I had prepared some vegetable broth but didn't feel up to it, so I threw it out. However, after 24 hours have passed, I'll try the broth again. Fingers crossed, I'm confident, even though I'm kind of improvising. Everything went smoothly during the 5-day fast, and seeing how today went, I think the ten-day fast will go well too. The fact that I managed to urinate is a great sign. I'm neither getting worse nor better, but that's fine; it takes time.

Overall, I've lost about 10 kilos; I weigh 72 kilos now. A couple of months ago I weighed nearly 100, and 90 at the start of July. I'm satisfied with what I've achieved and the weight lost. I'll be careful not to put it back on, and I hope to reach 65 kilos, my goal weight. (height of 177 cm)

Next update tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

Open to advice.

I’m hanging in there, but I’m not doing well at this point. I’ll write more about the experience tomorrow. I’m ending the dry fast at midnight tonight. It’s no longer feasible for me after the 10th day, that’s my limit, but I’m going to finish today and reach the 10-day mark.

I lost another two kilos yesterday, in a single day, bringing my total weight loss since August 7th to 9 kilos over nine days. I’ve gone from 83 kilos to 74 kilos (I am 177 cm tall, so I am overweight).

This is primarily water loss. The dehydration at this point is unbearable for me.

I'm spending my time in bed, and I'm even struggling to write this post.

I haven't urinated for two consecutive days. To me, this is a sign that we’ve reached the limit. Today marks the third day without urinating; at this point, it is obvious that the body is struggling to cope with the lack of water.

How I feel.

Total exhaustion. Right now, I can barely get out of bed. I’ve already prepared a few things for starting refeeding at midnight; I’ll make a separate post about that. I really can't do anything more than move from one spot to another. At this point, every activity is a struggle, even writing this. I’m mentally drained, too. So, it’s total fatigue and a lack of strength. I’ll write more, and better, about the experience of a dry fast later, because reflecting isn't my strong suit right now, and I'm writing on impulse.

Physically, my mouth and lips are completely dehydrated. My tongue is dry, too. There is no sweating, and my skin is dry.

Fairly severe nausea. Moderate muscle pain. Chills, though less of a cold sensation. Intestinal cramps and stomach pain have also developed.

I also feel short of breath and sometimes feel like I’m going to faint, though I might just be a bit of a hypochondriac about it, given how much I’m second-guessing what I’m doing; still, I’m determined to finish the tenth day.

It doesn’t help that, if you look up information online, it seems like I should have died five days ago, yet here I am, alive, and it’s been a full nine days without food or water. I haven’t drunk a thing, not even the slightest amount of water; I’m following a strict dry fast, though obviously, I do use water to wash my hands, face, and body. But as for ingesting water, absolutely nothing. Just water on the skin.

I’ve been sleeping, and I plan to spend the rest of the day resting in bed.

I’d really appreciate it if anyone here who has reached day ten would share their experience. It’s noon right now, so I have twelve hours left; at midnight, I’ll have hit exactly ten days of dry fasting, and then I’m stopping because I’m at my limit.

Questions are welcome. Honestly, I can’t do anything today other than stay in bed and scroll through Reddit.

Thanks for reading.

Here is some basic information: I started exactly at midnight on August 7th, so the 7th was my first day of fasting. Before starting, specifically between 10:30 PM and 11:30 PM, I had my last meal, which was quite hearty and varied.

I am 32 years old and overweight; at the start of the fast, I weighed 83 kg and stood 177 cm tall. Keep this in mind, as I am convinced that being overweight makes it much easier to extend a dry fast; if I were thinner, I don't think I could keep going.

Furthermore, I have no underlying health conditions and am currently in good health, although in my early twenties I had to deal with heart issues, which were drug-induced rather than congenital. Nevertheless, I was advised to undergo periodic cardiac check-ups, which I do regularly.

I also work in the healthcare sector and hold two relevant degrees; the second one, in particular, provided me with some medical training (a BSc in Medical Laboratory Science).

With that said, I will describe my experience day by day.

Days 1 and 2: Aside from hunger, I haven't experienced any noteworthy symptoms, though keep in mind that this isn't my first dry fast; I’ve done several before, with a maximum duration of 5 days. This is the first one to go beyond 5 days. However, the first two days are almost always uneventful, apart from the hunger. Before midnight on the day I start the dry fast, I always eat a hearty, varied meal.

On days 3 and 4: weight loss becomes noticeable; fatigue sets in, along with a slight sensation of cold and reduced sweating.

Day 5: the first day when the effects of a dry fast really start to be felt. At this stage, physical activity beyond the bare minimum is not feasible; I used to either stop on this day or see it through to the end, gradually resuming drinking and eating at midnight. If you are working or otherwise active, especially in hot weather, you might feel like you are about to collapse and have to stop; however, if you are resting at home in an air-conditioned environment, the day passes calmly, though fatigue increases. Above all, you unmistakably notice a change in your body temperature and a lack of sweating, and your mouth feels slightly dry.

Day 6: hasn't brought many changes compared to Day 5, except that I've had to cut back on physical activity. This is crucial: during a dry fast, you must rest. If you stay active, you won't be able to keep going.

Day 7: visible worsening. Evident physical and muscular fatigue; some muscle pain is appearing. No kidney or gastrointestinal issues. Bowel movements have gone from regular to infrequent. Dry mouth. Occasional chills. Very little sweating. Severe fatigue.

Day 8: visible weight loss recorded from the start of the fast to the end of the day, meaning the completion of the eighth day, was a full 7 kilograms (an increase of 3 kg compared to the end of Day 5). This indicates severe dehydration rather than actual weight loss; consequently, some of the weight lost during the dry fast will likely be regained.
There is very evident dry mouth and extremely dehydrated lips; the skin also shows signs of dryness. Sweating is minimal, and the sensation of cold persists. However, two significant changes set in: noticeable muscle pain, and fatigue that is now both physical and mental. Even minimal physical or mental activity is difficult; sleeping or resting seems to be the only viable option.
The deterioration during the day is significant and rapid, signaling that the body is reaching its limit of endurance. While the first four days were manageable, and days 5 through 7 were strenuous but not alarming, everything worsened rapidly on the eighth day, and the body went into distress. At least in my case, I started the day feeling okay, not great, but nothing alarming, yet by the end of the day, my body was showing signs of giving out.

Day 9: I’ll probably finish out the day and then stop, but I’ll see how I feel and keep you updated day by day. The most obvious thing is that once you start feeling bad, things deteriorate rapidly. I don’t have any serious health issues, but both my body and mind are feeling the strain of the fast. There is extreme fatigue, mental fatigue, too. This shouldn't be underestimated; while the tiredness was physical at first, now it’s hard to even think straight, I’m obsessively focused on the dry fast and nothing else. I have doubts about what I’m doing and will probably finish the day and stop, but I’ll see how I feel. Let’s just say the day hasn't been pleasant at all so far.

In conclusion, this is a real experience, not something I made up; if you want to believe it, fine, if not, so be it. I don't want to encourage others to take risks; everyone is responsible for their own actions and needs to be aware of their own situation.

As I’ve already said, I’m 32 and have no major health issues, though I am overweight, and I repeat, I think that last point really helps in being able to prolong a dry fast. Also, I’m completely resting. I’m certain none of this would have been possible if I hadn't been on vacation. For the last few days, I haven't left the house; I’m completely focused on this dry fast.

That said, I consider the information found online, claiming you’ll end up in the hospital after five days, to be false; it might happen to some people, but it didn't happen to me. Especially not after just three days. I imagine the goal is to discourage potentially dangerous practices as much as possible, but the fact is, I didn't collapse after five days without food or water, and up to the one-week mark, my body wasn't giving any particularly alarming signs of giving out.

Now, having reached day nine, I can say that in these last two days, the body is sending some warning signals, though nothing serious. However, given that if I developed serious symptoms, the damage would likely already be done and irreversible, I think stopping at the end of this ninth day is the wisest choice.

Still, I’m curious to push myself to the limit now that I’m here, since it’s unlikely I’ll reach this point again, five days will probably remain the standard benchmark. It will be rare to find another period where I have nothing to do and can attempt something like this. So I think I'll keep going and continue posting here daily; even if I stop, I'll carry on posting here about the refeeding phase, at least for the first few days of it.

Thanks for reading through to the end; feel free to ask if you have any questions.

I’m very tired, but I have nothing to do, I’m not working; I’m on a 14 day break and spending most of my time at home.

I’ve done various dry fasts before; usually, I stop at 5 full days without food or water because, if I have to do any activity, that’s my limit before collapsing.But right now, I’m resting on vacation and want to push myself to see how far I can go.

I have to say that, so far, aside from fatigue, sweating less, feeling cold, and having a dry mouth, I’m doing well. The fatigue is the main issue; I’d like to reach 14 days, but I’d appreciate advice from anyone who has done this before. Obviously, if I feel like I’m about to collapse, I’ll stop sooner.

I'm talking about ADHD and the autism spectrum, just to be clear.

It is true that some people are more mature for their age than others, but maturity can be judged from many different angles.

For instance, an extrovert might be skilled at relating to others and become independent earlier, yet be more prone to irresponsible or impulsive acts, perhaps holding a more superficial or worldly set of values.

Conversely, an introvert might struggle more to step out of their comfort zone and accumulate life experiences later than their peers, but they may possess greater introspection, judgment, and capacity for reflection, making them less likely to act under social pressure and more likely to exercise common sense.

These are just examples, perhaps even stereotypes, but the point is that it is ridiculous to try to objectively quantify an adolescent's maturity.

It is even more absurd to claim that certain adolescents with ADHD or autism (specifically mild cases like Asperger’s, the most controversial ones) do not truly match their chronological age, say, 18, but are instead "behind" others, functioning more like 15-year-olds.

All of this is asserted without evidence.

It is a fact that children who suffer abuse or neglect do not develop typically and fall behind; this is well-documented in both severe, shocking cases of abandonment and in more subtle instances of neglect, such as emotional neglect or children raised in front of TVs, computers, and social media used as babysitter substitutes.

Instilling the idea in the minds of parents, and young children themselves, that they do not match their actual age is psychologically damaging.

Expectations regarding the child are lowered, he is made to feel alienated from others, and he is absolved of responsibility, as are his parents.

It is a toxic concept designed merely to pathologize rather than help; they simply make a claim and it becomes "truth," yet they provide no scientific evidence.

Furthermore, as usual, social and environmental factors, as well as parental and school responsibilities, take a back seat to a hypothetical biological cause. The burden falls entirely on the child, who is viewed as defective.

It is astonishing that they manage to peddle such absurdities regarding a person's mental health. particularly that of a child or adolescent, without facing criticism, despite the preposterous nature of certain claims.

No one believes me when I say it’s messed up my brain.

I can’t think about anything else.

It disgusts me and gives me nothing, yet I still can't think of anything else.

It’s not normal to be bombarded like this, to have everything, including the most depraved sexual filth imaginable, just a click away.

I also have a compulsive masturbation problem, and it makes everything worse.

It’s insane that a 12-year-old can be exposed to that kind of filth. I wish I could turn back time and never start.

I’m not giving up, but it’s a serious addiction and no one understands that.

No one takes you seriously, not even therapists. How the hell is it possible that this is the one addiction nobody gives a damn about?

We live in a sick society that has normalized pornography. It’s disgusting. Pornography isn't sexual freedom; it’s a vice. The people who profit from pornography are immoral. It’s just a filthy vice, plain and simple.

I’m not giving up, but after so many years, my motivation is running low. I’m 32 years old.

To anyone younger: stop right now.

I like this sub, but it's less active than the other one, and I don't understand why I'm not allowed to post there.

I see plenty of people with minor issues, who eagerly latch onto a whole catalog of diagnostic labels, more attention than those with genuine, obvious problems who aren't keen on labeling themselves or taking a therapist's word as gospel.

I’ve noticed that many therapists get irritable with patients who have real problems and let the therapist know that their advice isn't working; furthermore, those with severe mental health issues are often shunned by psychologists who don't deem them suitable candidates for psychotherapy.

Conversely, those who are doing relatively well and play along with the therapist's approach receive much more benevolent treatment. Anyone who doesn't treat them like gods on earth, however, gets subtly ridiculed and met with irritability and unhelpfulness.

Basically, they want you to humor them, not actually solve your problems. They are incredibly egocentric, have superiority complexes, feel entitled to pass judgment on your life, and are arrogant enough to think they know better than you.

They don't really listen; they just pretend to.

I’m tired of seeing people who have friends, good jobs, good health, no financial worries, and perfectly normal childhoods and adolescences complaining about stress, anxiety, or non-existent depression, all while they’re out having fun every night, holding down steady jobs, enjoying a loving, supportive family, and living a carefree life.

Meanwhile, people struggling with drug addiction, those facing total social withdrawal and marginalization, people on the fringes of society at risk of homelessness, childhood abuse survivors, and car accident victims with permanent injuries, all individuals with limited ability to advocate for themselves and problems that are hard to overcome, are treated with disdain and looked down upon.

Those with genuine problems encounter assholes who antagonize them and make the situation worse. Yet, someone who has absolutely nothing wrong with them becomes the "model patient" and is treated with the utmost care.

There is no empathy in this system, only boundless egos and greed.

I’m feeling delusional.

I think that was THE relationship and life can’t go in another direction.

I suffer a lot from obsessiveness. It’s a mix of trauma, mood disorder, hypersexuality, ocd and adhd.

I have casual sex while i’m in a relationship but when i’m single I absolutely despise occasional sexual encounters. I really don’t know why I behave like this. Maybe to relieve stress from a relationship.

But now i’m obsessed with my ex who found out i was cheating and left me. And i just want it to pass but is not happening.

My life must have the priority, i know this, but the feeling cannot be controlled, actions yes but feelings no. When this will stop? Will it? I’m delusional. I am. For sure.

If things turned out this way, it’s because they were meant to. Things happen, that’s just how I am, and there’s only so much control one has over life. But I can’t stop the thoughts and emotions churning inside me; they’re tormenting me.

There’s rationality, but there are also delusions.

I keep telling myself I need to let go of the need to control everything. That’s where it all stems from.

You can’t control emotions, only actions, and suffering is simply part of it.

You can make choices and maintain control up to a point, but you pay the price for mistakes. Were they really mistakes? How can I be sure there isn’t someone better out there?

Yet, the past and everything behind it is eating me alive. Everything has collapsed. Now I’m drifting in uncertainty. It’s not just that my life seems to lack direction; I feel hollowed out myself. Adrift.

I don't feel like I've made much progress. My sexual thoughts are constant and obsessive; my libido is insanely strong and out of control, I don't feel functional.

However, the urge to watch porn is low, as is the urge to masturbate. Maybe I crave sexual encounters, but I've had bad experiences in the past, and thankfully that holds me back because I'm not even sure about it.

I don't have a partner anymore; I've been seeing someone for a while, but I'm not attracted to her personality or her looks—we have a good time together, but that's it.

I want to be with my ex. I fucked up by cheating, and I can't fix it. No joke. When I was with her, I sought out others for casual sex. Now that she's left me, I'm sick of casual encounters; they were a way to release sexual tension, but they ruined everything, and I'm fed up with them.

I'm looking for a relationship, but no one measures up to my ex. Casual sex is just like porn, the same thing, or even worse. I should have been faithful; I got it all wrong. If I date someone, I already know I want to break it off because I want to go back to my ex. Now, when I have sex, I feel guilty. It wasn't worth sacrificing a relationship for this. I refuse to give up.

I have this fucking hypersexuality, and I don't know how to handle it. I swear I must be in the top 5% of hypersexual people. I don't know what to do. Right now, I'm obsessed, I swear, completely obsessed, with my ex. I don't give a shit about porn, masturbation, or other people; I don't really want another relationship with anyone but my ex.

I'm in a bad way. I need my ex. I swear I'm going crazy; the idea of ​​her being with someone else, even though I don't know for sure, destroys me psychologically. I think she’s with someone else, and I can’t stand it. It’s really tearing me apart mentally. My thoughts are destroying me; I can’t get anything done. I don’t know what to do. I refuse to give up. I can’t. I never will, certainly not now.

I have to have a chance. But I know it’s impossible, and it’s insane, she’s gone, yet she’s still alive. That’s what I can’t bear. Porn,fuck it. Masturbation,fuck it. Casual sex,fuck it. Other relationships,I don’t want them. Right now, my libido is nothing but a punishment. This week, I’ve started a million activities just to keep busy. But where am I going? Forward? Or do I want to pull back?

I stopped years ago, but only now do I realize I was right. I have the clarity needed to look back and observe the progressive cognitive decline that occurred while taking the medication, as well as the gradual recovery that followed.

my decline into 3 phases: 1) emotional destabilization and psychological breakdown; 2) total flattening of emotions and resignation, accompanied by a loss of self-awareness and a decline in mental and physical faculties; 3) chronic pessimism, rejection of life, and withdrawal into a fantasy world.

My five-stage recovery: 1) recovering from the severe physical problems that forced me to stop taking the medication (a very long process lasting a decade); 2) rebound emotional destabilization, I had to quit the drugs abruptly due to the risk of permanent heart damage, so I couldn't taper off; I suffered several crises during the first year, especially in the initial three months, and things felt truly out of control in my brain, as if it were physiologically readjusting; 3) disorientation and the gradual recovery of mental and physical abilities, along with regaining self-awareness (the longest and most important phase); 4) breaking off unhealthy relationships, including with the people who had pushed me into the hands of those abusive psychiatrists; 5) the most difficult part, which is still ongoing: rebuilding my life, getting a job, bringing my personal finances under control, forming new friendships and relationships, rebuilding a social network (the biggest challenge), and fully restoring my self-esteem.

NOW I AM CERTAIN: THEY ARE WHAT CREATE PEOPLE SUFFERING FROM MENTAL DISORDERS. THESE ARE CONDITIONS INDUCED BY PSYCHIATRIC DRUGS, RECREATIONAL DRUGS, OR BOTH.

You end up there because you have been unlucky in life and have suffered abuse. They hide your story, rewrite it, blame and stigmatize you, damage you cognitively and emotionally, and destabilize you by placing you in situations that ruin your reputation; they cause you to lose awareness of yourself and your life, how you reached that point and how they are complicit in it.

This is not about shirking responsibility, as they want you to believe. This is about reclaiming yourself

They ruined a part of my life and destroyed my relationships with some people, but at least I didn't lose myself, and I can rebuild my life and friendships now, even if it’s difficult.

Your life starts over the moment you leave them behind. Don't forget.

To anyone currently taking these two drugs: stop immediately, before it’s too late.

I’m only just realizing the damage they caused me while I was on them, how they altered my way of thinking and acting, and how they destroyed my awareness of what I was going through, my willpower, and my emotions.

THEY ARE CHEMICAL LOBOTOMIES.

It makes me sick to think that traumatized people, already in a shitty situation due to past abuse, or a run of bad luck, or both, end up in the hands of these cynical manipulators who care only about money.

But one thing I really hope they pay for someday is giving that shit to adolescents and to children, too.

They diagnose two-year-olds based on a checklist of symptoms that are completely normal for that age. They do it on purpose; they want to make healthy children sick just to have patients. It’s evil. They manipulate parents and turn them against their own kids. They’re sadists.

They attack the most vulnerable, the weakest, the most fragile, the victims.

They are not on your side, but on the side of those who abused you and made you sick. Never forget that. They are enemies posing as your friends.

All the years spent under their care are a trauma that will never heal.

Let’s try again.

My daily post to hold myself accountable.

The day has just begun. I'm still pessimistic and have zero motivation. This is the challenge at the beginning. I have to remind myself that porn doesn't give me anything at all, and it's just uncontrolled instincts that lead me to make the wrong decisions. The only thing that matters is getting to the end of the day clean.

The biggest mistake of my life was feeling helpless for too long. Psychiatrists were the ones who made me feel this way at 14. This was the beginning of my mental illness. It all started there.

Being indoctrinated that one's social skills couldn't be improved, convinced that one's social anxiety couldn't be undermined at its foundation by questioning false beliefs about oneself, gaslighted about what made me depressed, about the people who, knowingly or unknowingly, were harming me, about the unhealthy environment around me, about my addictions.

They destroyed my already extremely weak self-esteem, they tried to strip me of my individuality by categorizing my personality with a diagnostic label.

They de-responsible me, my mother, and everyone who played a role in my growth.

They pumped me full of drugs during adolescence, a time when hormones already make your mood volatile.

I collapsed in on myself, my mind lost the ability to see outside, I was devoured by an obsessive-compulsive neuroticism that, in the throes of uncontrolled emotions, focused on guilt, fatalism, pessimism, and fear. I was blind. I was unaware of myself, of what I was experiencing, of the monsters surrounding me, of the vices that deceived me and replaced my escape routes.

Throughout all this, psychiatrists convinced me of a phantom mental illness.

But it wasn't the mental illness. It was me. They weren't curing an illness. They were acting on me. Making me increasingly dysfunctional.

How do I get over the illness?
By telling myself that I am not the illness. I exist. My life exists. The illness doesn't. I began to heal. To heal my traumas, my disappointments, my sorrows, my regrets, my fears, my relationships, my lack of will to live. To begin to face my mental flaws, make choices, make sacrifices, break unhealthy relationships, end my vices, accept that time doesn't come back.

Face reality without fear, accept myself, be aware of what I can do. I should have done it before, but they made me feel helpless, at the mercy of something that didn't exist; they put obstacles in the way of awareness. Drugs that turned me into a zombie. Ostracized by those who could help me. They made me an outcast, a potential scourge for others.

They love pushing people to their limits. Isolated from others, jobless, at the mercy of addictions. That's how they have total control. And the more time passes without having the reins of your life, the more the damage increases and the harder it is to feel good.

THEY LIVE FROM YOUR PAIN. DON'T FEEL POWERLESS. THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT. DON'T BE INDOCTRINATED. YOU DON'T NEED THEM. YOU DON'T NEED DRUGS. LABELS. FALSE EMPATHY IN EXCHANGE FOR MONEY.

WHAT YOU NEED IS TO GIVE YOURSELF A SECOND CHANCE. TO BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. TO FIND HOPE IN YOURSELF. TO KNOW THAT LIFE CANNOT BE CONTROLLED. WHAT HAPPENS TO US CANNOT BE KNOWN OR DETERMINED. LUCK AND BAD LUCK ARE REAL. WE CANNOT CONTROL THEM. BUT WE CAN CONTROL OURSELVES.

NEVER LET PSYCHIATRISTS MAKE YOU SICK OR A VICTIM OF YOURSELF BY TELLING YOU YOU HAVE AN ILLNESS. IT'S NOT TRUE. IT'S NOT REALITY. THIS IS THE CORE OF THEIR PROFESSION. YOU HAVE NO INSIGHT, THEY SAY. YOU MUST BE PLACED IN A GUARDIANSHIP. YOU MUST BE PLACED IN AN INSTITUTE. THEY DO EVERYTHING WITH DRUGS, WITH ABUSE, WITH LIES TO MAKE YOU LOSE AWARENESS OF YOURSELF AND YOUR LIFE.

NEVER LET THEM CONVINCING YOU THAT YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL OF YOUR LIFE BECAUSE YOU ARE.