Trapped

That’s how I feel. I’ve got nowhere where I can feel at peace. At least last year I could come home and not be treated like a nutcase who has to be monitored and can’t be left alone for a few hours. I had my own little space in halls where I could hide out for weeks at a time without needing to emerge to use the bathroom. I hate my new house. In theory I should like it, the people I found most intimidating in my halls apartment are gone but I feel like I’m a prisoner there. Going out of my darkened, creaky bedroom fills me with dread. I can’t stand to be around these enthusuastic life-lovers, there’s only so much excitement and happiness i can fake, and it isn’t much.

It’s difficult to keep up the pretense of enjoying being back at university; I hate the drinking and forced socialising that everyone else loves so much. I want to scream out “I almost died!” but I can’t. Things seem excessively trivial when you’ve spent the past weeks trying to convince various healthcare professionals that you are, in fact, sane and won’t try to kill yourself again even if that is a lie. I know how to dress it up and make them believe me, it’s no use flat out denying the thoughts never occur to you. “They’re at the back of my mind but I won’t act on them now I know what it’s like”, that’s what you have to sell.

It’s a cliche but I hate my life. There’s nothing I derive pleasure from. I’m never ever happy, I hate lying and saying that i am when it is expected of me. Lying here things seem so utterly hopeless, I can’t see a way out that I so desperately crave. There’s no way I’m trying the pills again, I don’t want to end up in a psych ward surrounded by crazies. There’s nowhere high enough to reliably jump from either here or my other city. Fuck, I wish I had a gun. All I can do to keep from breaking down is to hide, under the bedsheets, in my university cell, wherever people aren’t. I know I can’t do it forever and I hear the clock ticking away. If I make any attempt to escape now, it’d better work because I cannot afford to miss any university, financially or otherwise. I am trapped here, destined to either stay in pain or sucumb to being mental on a full time basis. I don’t think I can deal with either.

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Intrusive Thoughts

I’m finding it hard to keep my mind on anything productive at the moment. Last night I couldn’t sleep even with pills because a thread which I read on an SA forum kept going through my mind. The person who posted it asked if you could see how your life turned out, would you choose to opt out and not have been born, I certainly would. I can’t think of any reason why I’d want to go through all that I’ve been through and not get any reward for it.

It’s a scary thought, but one which I can’t take my mind off at the moment. What if this is all there is for me? Absolutely nothing in my life makes being such a useless, pathetic and hideous person worth it to me. It’s not like I can think “Well at least I have friends” or think back to happy times with people, because I’ve never had any. Even the most optimistic (and unrealistic) person would be hard pressed to see a decent future for me, given how badly I’ve done at life so far. I know I’m always harping on about it but I really can’t stand the thought of always being alone and disliked. If nobody has ever found me attractive and I’ve been single (not just that, but actively mocked and derided about how undesirable I am) for 24 years, what chance is there of that changing? I’ve already seen from various data and graphs that I’m in a tiny minority of people, never having been in any kind of relationship at this age. The amount of people that get past that and eventually have normal lives must be infinitesimally small, I expect most of the people in the same situation as me are severely disabled or disfigured.

I really am trying to keep my mind off the bad things but they just keep creeping back. I overhear people talking, someone in one of my lectures asked another guy if he still played World of Warcraft (a time consuming online game, luckily I have not succumbed to its clutches) and followed up with “So you still have no social life then?” which of course resulted in much laughter. He then suggested that the guy should jump off a bridge. Hearing this kind of thing doesn’t help me, especially since I was planning on doing exactly that a few days ago 😦 I hear people who don’t want to go out on a particular night, despite the fact that they are always usually out all the time get called “antisocial bitch”, what must people think of me?

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.