A Proper Post

Just before Christmas, I went to see my new psychiatrist. My old one was one of the only healthcare professionals I’ve seen who I actually felt comfortable talking to and actually enjoyed spending time with. She seemed much more understanding and friendly than the others and helped me set some reasonable goals and didn’t patronise me. Unfortunately she moved on to another place and now I’m saddled with this creepy new guy. I found it really hard to speak to him, I totally froze up at a few points, that’s not happened for a while.  I also didn’t think he was very professional, he kept putting his hand on me, probably trying to comfort me and calm me down or something but I didn’t like it. Also there was a med student in there and when he went out of the room, he said I should talk to her which seemed rather unusual to me.

He didn’t seem to know much about me either, he spent a while reading my file at the start of the appointment. At one point he wanted to speak to the consultant but instead of asking me to wait in the waiting room like the others did, he phoned him while I was still in the room and read some things out of my file, which says that they aren’t supposed to be handled by the patient. He said something about avoidant personality disorder to them, which I’ve never been told about.

Towards the end of the appointment, he chastised me for using the phrase “I’m not sure” too often and said that I shouldn’t use it again. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to respond to questions to which I don’t know the answer. He also asked me if I see a CPN, and then asked why not when I told him that I don’t. Well I have no idea why not, I only know what one is from reading other mental health blogs. Very little has been explained to me about how the process works as I am shipped from doctor to doctor.

I really wish I could see someone else instead, but I don’t know who I could complain to or ask about it. Nobody told me who makes the decision about who I see, I just get letters in the post from the doctors’ secretary and I can hardly complain to them. Luckily I don’t need to see him again until the end of January, hopefully I can ask my mum to try and help me get things sorted before then.

In other news, my depression has lifted slightly over the past few days. Hearing back from a very reclusive and avoidant internet friend of mine cheered me up a lot. The suicidal thoughts are still there in my mind though. I don’t feel a sense of despair and crushing helplessness when I think them now though, it’s more an inevitable solution that I’m slowly drifting towards. I don’t know how much time I have left where I can tread water and pretend everything is ok. I found a more reliable sounding method than jumping and I know where I can get the required items now. I’m not feeling sad about this, it’s weird.

Getting “help”

I’ve all but given up on making this blog useful, apologies if you came here expecting something helpful.

I had another psychiatrist appointment last week. I faced the dilemma that many people with mental illness have to deal with; whether to say the right things, jump through their metaphorical hoops and and take the easy way out, or whether to face up to the hard task of telling it how it is and facing the consequences of that. Last time I took the first approach, she seemed quite pleased with the progress I was making. In the days leading up to my latest appointment though, I’ve been feeling extremely hopeless and suicidal again. It often seems to disappear as soon as I get the chance to talk to someone about it and I feel like I’m being overly dramatic by bringing it up but this time I was determined to speak the truth about it.

I haven’t been feeling the desperation that I did before, I don’t feel the need to go out there this minute and do it, it’s more of a realisation what my life is going to be like. The horrible truth hangs over me every day, reinforced more and more with every failed social interaction, every rejection, every person staring and laughing. I feel crushing jealousy as I see people with friends, even glancing at groups studying together brings out a great sadness in me. I am totally alone here, and everywhere except in my home. I can no longer see how I’m going to get past the fact that I am hopelessly socially retarded, my appearance scares people and I am incredibly boring. There’s too much to overcome before anyone would even be remotely interested in knowing me, never mind the fact that I’ve already established myself as the weirdo loner here. It could be worse, at least I know a couple of people’s names, but I never dare interrupt their groups to talk to them, even if I could think of something to say.

I managed to tell the psychiatrist that I have been having the thoughts again and then of course I had to talk to the terrifying consultant. He’s incredibly intense, always staring and picks apart everything you say. I already over analyse the way I say every single thing to make sure it’s no misinterpreted but he sends me into overdrive. It can take me 30 seconds to answer a simple question, I get scared he’s going to get angry at what I say, especially after he smashed his fist on the table after I deigned to ask about anti-anxiety medication. The end result of it all was that he didn’t seem to think I was serious about it and just upped my venlafaxine to 225mg and said I’d benefit from one to one psychotherapy. I was referred a couple of months ago but still haven’t heard anything.

I don’t know what to do with myself now. I wish it was possible to transfer a confident person into my situation (of course no normal person would be in this position in the first place) and see what they’d do. I simply have no idea. I could carry on going to lectures, sitting alone and speaking to no-one for practically the entire week. I’m scared of the people my flatmates bring around here, I’ve missed several meals because I’ve been too afraid to leave my room and go into the loud, social atmosphere of the kitchen.

I’m so screwed up, laughter scares me now. If I here a group of people (especially men) laughing it just triggers a fear response inside me. I suppose it’s some kind of Pavlovian response after all the years of mocking and torment but I wish I didn’t feel like it. I don’t have a clue how I’m ever going to be normal*.

* Now I know the usual response to this is that “nobody is normal” or normal people aren’t interesting, but that’s not what I mean. I think most people would agree it is pretty normal to have at least one friend. It’s reasonably normal to be capable of going out somewhere without being crippled by fear of being laughed at and humiliated. I’d love to have someone to talk to, who I didn’t feel like I had to put on a show just to seem like less of a freak to.

I was asked some difficult questions by the consultant; “Have you ever had any close friends?” Not since I was a young child. He asked about when I was about 15; “Lads have mates who they go out and do ‘lad’ things with” he said. Not me. I had people I hung around with in school because I was too scared to leave them (they bullied me as much or worse than the other people) but I never had the slightest desire to spend any more time than absolutely necessary with them. I never saw them outside of school. I’ve been a loner for the vast majority of my life, but that isn’t how I want to be. I’d say the problem is probably made worse by two enormous problems. First, I am not the kind of person people like. I’m no fun to be around, I’m far too quiet and I don’t like drunkenness and parties, I look hideous, I’m probably too arrogant and élitist in my own introverted way. Second, I lack the basic skills that seem to come naturally to other people, probably through trial and error when they were younger and social faux-pas weren’t as heavily punished. I find it incredibly hard to explain just how little I know about how to interact with people, a lot of people think they are “shy” or whatever, but I’ve not come across many as socially maladjusted as me. I know nothing about what people do, I know they don’t spend every waking hour reading or on the computer like me but all I have for reference is what I see on TV and in movies (which I do realise aren’t realistic, by the way). I feel completely out of place as a human adult.

Getting “help”

I’ve all but given up on making this blog useful, apologies if you came here expecting something helpful.

I had another psychiatrist appointment last week. I faced the dilemma that many people with mental illness have to deal with; whether to say the right things, jump through their metaphorical hoops and and take the easy way out, or whether to face up to the hard task of telling it how it is and facing the consequences of that. Last time I took the first approach, she seemed quite pleased with the progress I was making. In the days leading up to my latest appointment though, I’ve been feeling extremely hopeless and suicidal again. It often seems to disappear as soon as I get the chance to talk to someone about it and I feel like I’m being overly dramatic by bringing it up but this time I was determined to speak the truth about it.

I haven’t been feeling the desperation that I did before, I don’t feel the need to go out there this minute and do it, it’s more of a realisation what my life is going to be like. The horrible truth hangs over me every day, reinforced more and more with every failed social interaction, every rejection, every person staring and laughing. I feel crushing jealousy as I see people with friends, even glancing at groups studying together brings out a great sadness in me. I am totally alone here, and everywhere except in my home. I can no longer see how I’m going to get past the fact that I am hopelessly socially retarded, my appearance scares people and I am incredibly boring. There’s too much to overcome before anyone would even be remotely interested in knowing me, never mind the fact that I’ve already established myself as the weirdo loner here. It could be worse, at least I know a couple of people’s names, but I never dare interrupt their groups to talk to them, even if I could think of something to say.

I managed to tell the psychiatrist that I have been having the thoughts again and then of course I had to talk to the terrifying consultant. He’s incredibly intense, always staring and picks apart everything you say. I already over analyse the way I say every single thing to make sure it’s no misinterpreted but he sends me into overdrive. It can take me 30 seconds to answer a simple question, I get scared he’s going to get angry at what I say, especially after he smashed his fist on the table after I deigned to ask about anti-anxiety medication. The end result of it all was that he didn’t seem to think I was serious about it and just upped my venlafaxine to 225mg and said I’d benefit from one to one psychotherapy. I was referred a couple of months ago but still haven’t heard anything.

I don’t know what to do with myself now. I wish it was possible to transfer a confident person into my situation (of course no normal person would be in this position in the first place) and see what they’d do. I simply have no idea. I could carry on going to lectures, sitting alone and speaking to no-one for practically the entire week. I’m scared of the people my flatmates bring around here, I’ve missed several meals because I’ve been too afraid to leave my room and go into the loud, social atmosphere of the kitchen.

I’m so screwed up, laughter scares me now. If I here a group of people (especially men) laughing it just triggers a fear response inside me. I suppose it’s some kind of Pavlovian response after all the years of mocking and torment but I wish I didn’t feel like it. I don’t have a clue how I’m ever going to be normal*.

* Now I know the usual response to this is that “nobody is normal” or normal people aren’t interesting, but that’s not what I mean. I think most people would agree it is pretty normal to have at least one friend. It’s reasonably normal to be capable of going out somewhere without being crippled by fear of being laughed at and humiliated. I’d love to have someone to talk to, who I didn’t feel like I had to put on a show just to seem like less of a freak to.

I was asked some difficult questions by the consultant; “Have you ever had any close friends?” Not since I was a young child. He asked about when I was about 15; “Lads have mates who they go out and do ‘lad’ things with” he said. Not me. I had people I hung around with in school because I was too scared to leave them (they bullied me as much or worse than the other people) but I never had the slightest desire to spend any more time than absolutely necessary with them. I never saw them outside of school. I’ve been a loner for the vast majority of my life, but that isn’t how I want to be. I’d say the problem is probably made worse by two enormous problems. First, I am not the kind of person people like. I’m no fun to be around, I’m far too quiet and I don’t like drunkenness and parties, I look hideous, I’m probably too arrogant and élitist in my own introverted way. Second, I lack the basic skills that seem to come naturally to other people, probably through trial and error when they were younger and social faux-pas weren’t as heavily punished. I find it incredibly hard to explain just how little I know about how to interact with people, a lot of people think they are “shy” or whatever, but I’ve not come across many as socially maladjusted as me. I know nothing about what people do, I know they don’t spend every waking hour reading or on the computer like me but all I have for reference is what I see on TV and in movies (which I do realise aren’t realistic, by the way). I feel completely out of place as a human adult.

Loner

I’ve been arguing with my family again; I don’t know how they can ignore the fact that I am not the kind of person people want to know or be friends with, despite all the evidence that supports it. I know it’s hard for them to know what to do, deep down I think they know I am a weirdo and people won’t want to know me, but they don’t know what to do about it so they just keep lying to themselves and me.

People can’t read minds, all they know about you is what you say to them and I can’t say anything. I am totally useless at communicating with people in person. The only reason I have any of my online friends is because we spoke online first. For someone who only spoke to me in real life, I might as well be a robot because I can’t and don’t give anything away about myself.

I have no idea what a person who has no friends or acquaintances can do to make friends here, I’ve tried the clubs/socieites but people already have friends there. I don’t think there is anything, everyone else already knows people so they can go places together and not look weird. Nobody wants a creepy loner to come up to them, especially someone as socially awkward as me, that is a fact that has been proven by my experiences over and over again.

I don’t know whether it’s because I just started the higher dose of my meds and it can have this effect but I really feel slashing my wrists at the moment.

Anxiety Resurgence

It’s been a long time since I was around a lot of people on a regular basis, so I haven’t experience huge amounts of social anxiety for quite a while. There have been odd days here and there but not prolonged periods like when I was at school or work, avoidance has been doing it’s trick. Now I am at university, however, I am starting to get those feelings again more often. I’ve already missed a few meals because I’ve been too afraid to go into the kitchen because I can hear voices of other people in there who I don’t know. I’ve even got to the point where I came out of my room to get a drink, walked to the door and heard people laughing and shouting and just walked back to my room to hide until they had gone.

One thing I’ve been told several times is that university societies and clubs are good places to meet people, and wanting to try and make some friends I decided that I would challenge myself and go along to some. I really wanted to join the Cine society but unfortunately that wasn’t running I ended up asking the president of the psychology society if it was ok if I joined now, since I didn’t sign up at the fresher’s fayre and she said yes. Last night they had a film night so after much worrying and arguing with my mum over MSN about going, I eventually plucked up enough courage to go there. Now, one technique you see in a lot of literature about tackling SA involves making predictions about social events or occasions and then going along anyway, then comparing what happened to your prediction and hopefully then realising that you were wrong and things turned out better than you expected. Unfortunately for me, last night was another occasion where what I predicted turned out to be exactly right; the other people there were all friends and knew each other and I ended up on my own looking like a loser. There were only 7 people there and the other 6 were all talking about people they knew and things they had done on previous nights out and stuff, hardly topics I could join in on even if I could bring myself to butt in on others conversations. So that turned out to be useless just like the other times I have been out, other people just don’t go to things alone looking to make friends. Despite what my mum says, it is highly unusual for someone to be my age and have zero friends, everyone else has people to go places with.

I don’t know what to do now really, I’d been told that everyone at uni would be in the same situation; that they wouldn’t know anyone either so they’d all want to make new friends, but that isn’t how it’s turned out for me. Everyone already knew tons of people from college, school or their jobs, on the first afternoon here when I went into the kitchen to say hello to my flatmates, there were already a bunch of their friends in there and I didn’t know who was living here and who wasn’t at first. I didn’t arrive with a prepared social group, I’m alone.

Outsider

I’ve found myself in a familiar place here, on the outside. Since I started high school I’ve never really belonged to any particular group. I never fit into any of the “cliques” or whatever the name for them is these days. I wasn’t a goth, skater, popular or any other easily defined type of person. I didn’t even fit in with the nerds. Back in those days I used to tell myself that I was happier and better off alone, after all they were just acting that way to fit in with each other, the phonies. In a way I was happier, avoidance let my escape the anxiety which I dreaded so much but it left me without any proper friends or connections.

Here, it hasn’t taken long for me to become the odd one out. I don’t go out to clubs etc so I don’t fit in here either. I suppose it doesn’t help that I am incredibly quiet and also older than my other flatmates but I did initially make the effort to try and get to know them, however that has not gone well. I can talk to them in passing and I’ve even had short conversations with them when I’ve seen them alone but I can’t participate in group discussions so I’m effectively frozen out. I’d like to be friends with them, but we don’t really have anything at all in common.

So out of practice am I, that I doubt that I will make any friends here at all. I’ve already embarrassed myself by trying to speak to someone in my class who also looked to be by themselves and the only other person whose name I know and have spoken too reminded me too much of my old “friends” from school. I don’t want to be in that situation again where I am made to feel stupid for actually wanting to work, and having my notes copied and all that. I desperately want to try my hardest to do well in this degree and I don’t want it being spoiled by another person who thinks they’re “too cool for school” and mocks people for working hard. I mean, what’s the point? Why pay all that money if you aren’t going to concentrate?

I apologise for this incoherent ramble, I was woke up by water leaking into my room from the flat above so I’m not in the greatest of moods.