What to do when you can’t talk to anyone

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Before she left, I asked my psychiatrist what I should do when I feel like this. Like nothing can help me and all I want is an end to it all. I’ve got the number for the crisis team but seeing as how one of the main problems I have with my SA is a fear of making phone calls (even simple things like ordering a pizza are out of the question and when I’m forced into making one, it takes me a long time to psych myself up enough to do it and I spend hours obsessing over how foolish I must have sounded afterwards) I just can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t lay bare my dismal view of myself and how bad the future seems, knowing what a privileged life I have. I’m not beaten up by my parents, I have a roof over my head. What business do I have being this depressed?

I talk to some people that I know online, but I don’t want to burden them with the full extent of my suicidal mood. If I had the pills right now, I’d be taking them. There’s no way I can scare my mum by talking to her. She almost had a fit and made me come back from university the last time the subject was even mentioned.

There’s a big link between social anxiety/phobia and depression, it’s easy to become depressed when you have no contact with other humans, and it’s even easier to lose hope when it seems you have no-one to help you when times are hard. I’m not even sure I want to be helped though, I just want an escape.

What to do when you can't talk to anyone

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Before she left, I asked my psychiatrist what I should do when I feel like this. Like nothing can help me and all I want is an end to it all. I’ve got the number for the crisis team but seeing as how one of the main problems I have with my SA is a fear of making phone calls (even simple things like ordering a pizza are out of the question and when I’m forced into making one, it takes me a long time to psych myself up enough to do it and I spend hours obsessing over how foolish I must have sounded afterwards) I just can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t lay bare my dismal view of myself and how bad the future seems, knowing what a privileged life I have. I’m not beaten up by my parents, I have a roof over my head. What business do I have being this depressed?

I talk to some people that I know online, but I don’t want to burden them with the full extent of my suicidal mood. If I had the pills right now, I’d be taking them. There’s no way I can scare my mum by talking to her. She almost had a fit and made me come back from university the last time the subject was even mentioned.

There’s a big link between social anxiety/phobia and depression, it’s easy to become depressed when you have no contact with other humans, and it’s even easier to lose hope when it seems you have no-one to help you when times are hard. I’m not even sure I want to be helped though, I just want an escape.

Crisis Team

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Just had the visit from 2 crisis team workers that I wrote about earlier. It wasn’t too bad, I said and heard a lot of things that I have done before and now I can’t help but feel I have wasted their time. I could’ve done with talking to them a couple of weeks ago really when I was at my lowest point. It’s probably bad of me, but I held back some of the truth about my suicidal thinking, but then I can’t really describe it properly anyway. I don’t know how everyone else thinks, but for me there is never one consistent mode of thinking or conscious thoughts that can easily be put into words. I don’t sit there and think “I might throw myself off a bridge tonight”, it’s more of an overall feeling that comes in waves.

At the moment I’m not seriously planning anything for the very near future, but those thoughts and feelings are still in the back of my mind. For now I am going to try and last the next week and see how things go at university if I can. It’s probably not knowing how I am going to be received by people that is causing me the most anxiety, after all it is 2 years since I met a new group of people whom I had not spoken to and got to know on the internet first.

How I got on

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The appointment was surprisingly short, I spent most of the time there sitting around in a tiny waiting room trying to avoid catching peoples eye. The first doctor I saw was a junior psychiatrist, she asked me the usual questions that I’ve been asked many times before about my anxiety symptoms etc. I asked about diazepam but nothing came of it unfortunately. After talking about my suicidal feelings, she decided to discuss with the consultant and then asked me to come and talk to him. He was very intimidating, I felt like I was being interrogated. This just made me anxiety worse, I stumbled over words and my mind went blank several times but I think I managed to get my point across. There was a particularly painful moment when he asked if I had any close friends or girlfriend, to which I answered truthfully; no, and then he asked “Why not?”. My mind was overcome with all the hatred I have for myself and if I wasn’t so tongue tied with anxiety, I could probably have spent half an hour listing the many reasons why not. Eventually though I had to settle with “probably because I am so weird” which led to further questioning about why I think that, and of course why I think that I look weird which I couldn’t answer because I felt tears coming to my eyes. Thankfully he stopped the interrogation at that point and asked me to wait outside while he talked to the original doctor.

I went back to see her and apparently they are concerned about me, maybe it was the way I answered their questions because I was not feeling actively suicidal like I was the last time I saw my MHP who just sent me on my merry way. The outcome of it all is that I have got to have someone from the crisis team visit me at home today, which I didn’t really want but I couldn’t bring myself to argue with them about that. They also changed my medication to venlafaxine, an SNRI so hopefully that might make a slight difference though I am not expecting miracles.

I had hoped that I could relax slightly after the appointment was done but now I have to worry about this person coming round. Of course I had to tell my mum, but I didn’t say why they were coming exactly because I don’t want her to know how close I was to killing myself. She’s now gone on a mad cleaning spree that usually happens whenever we are expecting visitors. I just hope that she will give me some privacy because I don’t want her listening to me talk about such personal and potential hurtful things.