Hey, everyone. It’s me again, unfortunately. I’m not ok. I got out of bed at 2:00pm today and I’ve pretty much bed rotted and engaged in brain rot and adult content. I’m on the verge of not wanting to exist and realizing I’m not engaged with everything I want to do. Many of my projects have gone unfinished. I cut out all my friends and family. Adult content is the only thing I seem get pleasure from and at this point, I’m convinced that it’s a lot better than real intimacy. I haven’t gotten my homework done and I’m behind in one class. While that’s going on, the memories haven’t stopped. People shutting me out, giving the worst advice possible, telling me I’m not enough, cutting me out of my life, treating me like I’m a piece of shit. I physically tick every time one of this moments pop in my head. My hobbies no longer have any meaning to me. I even despise my name. This isn’t a boohoo post but then again I don’t know anymore. I’ve always hated my life. I’ve always been the buff of jokes especially around women. I’m done flirting with women, being social and putting myself out there or working for my future. I never had one to begin with. I’m not doing all of this Because of my breakups but they confirmed that there is nothing that I deserve. Not now, not ever. I give up on love and on life. I just came home and punched a hole in the wall and honestly violence and hatred are the only thing that make me feel alive. All I can ask is why: why did my life become like this? Why did I even fall in love in the first place? Why did I ever think I could get a shot at happiness? Why am I always the one who everyone likes to bully and talk down to? Why am I the one who gets nothing? I’ve hated my life and always have, but these past five years especially 2025 and 2026 have been the worst. I’m giving up on life. Fuck love, fuck life and fuck me for thinking I could heal. I went to a club thinking I could go socialize but all I got was a threat to be in a fight and a failed attempt at flirting with someone. This world is nothing but chaos and chaos and chaos on wheels. I have no respect left for humanity or myself or anyone else in general. I’m done spilling my guts out to a therapist and going to programs while everyone I went to high school with has more success than me at everything i want: the bodies, the money, the cars, everything handed to them while I toil and wallow in misery. It’s not fair. It’s not like I asked for my life to be this way I haven’t. But then again it’s all I deserve. I’m sick of everything and all I want to do is die. Yep, you heard me right. All I want to do is die so I give myself peace of mind. That way I don’t have to worry about being rejected, falling in love, mocked or looked down upon or anything like that or being yelled at for being called weird or any other name in between. I’m a lost cause and because of everything else, nothing else is possible for me. I quit. With all the thoughts I’ve had of wanting to end my life, several people have told me that I should go to the hospital. But I can’t risk it. I’m almost done with school, but at the same time, I could really really care less. I don’t know anymore

What’s everyone in here been up to?

Welcome to the Progress Is Progress Recovery Skool community, @Tamara Tutson So happy to have you here! Please feel free to reach out for anything! That is what we are here for!

Hey everyone—Belle here. Welcome to Progress is Progress. If you found your way here, you’re probably looking for something real. Well, you’re in the right place. I’m a former meth addict turned recovery counselor, coach, writer, and a ridiculously stubborn hope-holder for anyone who’s ever felt stuck, ashamed, or just “not enough.” I’ve been on both sides of this mess—lived it, learned from it, and still screw things up sometimes. That won’t scare me off, and it shouldn’t scare you either. This place isn’t just for people in recovery. It’s for anyone who’s ever been affected by addiction, for the helpers and the families, the people who love someone in it, the professionals, the ones still in the thick of it, the “gray area” folks, and everyone who thinks recovery should be bigger than just “don’t use.”Here, messy progress counts. Every. Damn. Step. Here’s my question for you: What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “progress?” It doesn’t have to be deep—maybe it’s just making your bed or sending that one hard text. Or maybe it’s surviving something bigger. Drop your answers below, or just say hi and tell us who you are. Don’t overthink it. This community will be exactly what we make it together. Glad you’re here, Belle