Leaving Home Part 2

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Well I’m sorry it has taken so long to get around to writing this up, as you can imagine I have been extremely busy for the past week and I’m quite drained, both physically and especially mentally. First of all there was the extremely difficult process of moving all my stuff out and the anticipation of what my new home and room mates would be like. Will they like me? What if they make fun of me? Will I be able to manage without my mum?

Saying goodbye was very hard, my mum ended up crying like I expected. I didn’t want her to hang around too long because I know she was going to be upset. Some people’s parents seemed to stay for almost the entire day. After I’d unpacked my stuff, I decided to venture out into the kitchen/common area to meet my other room mates (I’d said hello to a couple of them while unloading the car). It took me a while to psych myself up enough to go in there but I made it. There were loads of people in there, more than the amount who would be in our apartment so I was a bit confused at first since I wasn’t sure who was staying and who wasn’t. I managed to introduce myself and talk a little bit to some of them. I later found out that most people already had friends here, that they had either worked with, known from college or were already friends with. This made me feel a bit sad because I had tried to console myself with the fact that we’d all be in the same boat, i.e. everyone would be on their own and not already have a social group, but this wasn’t the case. Already I was a loner and everyone had got a group of friends.

We all went out together on the first night. It was the first time I’d ever done anything like this, we went to a couple of pubs first which I didn’t mind too much and I managed to chat to them for a little while. Later on when we went to the club though, I just couldn’t stand it. There were too many drunk people and it was so packed, I felt trapped. I stayed for about an hour but when they all went to dance, I couldn’t handle it any more and I had to leave early. I felt so bad for running out on them like that but there was no way I could handle it any more and I didn’t fancy standing about on my own at the side all night long. I ended up leaving them a note explaining that I get panicked in situations like that and why I can’t drink etc. Maybe it was a bad idea, but I didn’t know what else to do.

The next day, no-one was mean to me about it so I guess they understood or at least didn’t hold it against me. They asked me to come to dinner with them which I did and had a good time, felt much better after that. I didn’t go to town with them afterwards though, I think they realise that I am not into clubs and stuff now.

All in all, I think I have been very lucky to be put with this group, they all seem to be nice and even though they are all very confident and outgoing, I have managed to talk to them a little bit and I think we get on alright. I find it much easier to speak to people individually rather than in a group, it’s so intimidating being with a bunch of such loud people.

I think that overall I am coping ok so far. The course starts properly on Monday which I’m looking forward too, the introductory lectures I’ve had so far have been interesting and the course sounds really good. The lecturers are very enthusiastic and involved which is a refreshing change from college where they didn’t bother to turn up a lot of the time.

I wanted to let people know how I’m getting on so far. I’m actually at home for the weekend at the moment so I am a bit more relaxed and should hopefully be able to write a bit more later on. Thanks everyone for all the encouragement and support 🙂

Leaving Home Part 1

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It’s less than 2 days until I go now and I just spent the evening with my dad so he could say goodbye. It was a very strange experience, he was very helpful and encouraging in his own way, it reminded me of when I was younger and he used to console me about the bullying at school even though I never really explained what was going on. I complain about him a lot but he truly does care and want the best for me. It was so sad to say goodbye, even though I’ll only be about 50 miles away 😦 I’ll miss seeing him often, he’s always at his girlfriends house on weekends so it’ll probably be Christmas before I get to see him again. Even he seemed tearful as he left the house, I’m dreading what my mum is going to be like 😦

Something that bothers me more than how much I’ll miss my family is how much they must be expecting of me now. It seems like the time has finally come when I’ll be out from under their feet. They never make me feel like a burden, but I do it to myself. I just imagine I must be a disappointment; still at home after all these years, especially when my mum’s boyfriend has 3 daughters who are the same age or younger than me and have all moved out on their own. I am already 5 years behind where everyone else is and I simply won’t be able to live with myself if I mess things up again. There will be no going back, I can’t face the disappointment and empty life ahead if I cannot cope with university and get a degree. There’s no place for a 23 year old loser who has dropped out twice and has no hope of a job. That will be it.

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.

Distractions

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I’ve managed to distract myself from the bad thoughts for a while over the past few days by working on the website that I said I’d do for my mum’s boyfriend. I actually enjoyed myself for the first time in a while, I used to be really into computers and spend hours reading things and messing about with technology but since I became severely depressed I haven’t really cared about anything. In one way, I hope that my university course (if I get there) will help me to focus and regain my interest, that’s what I intend to do for a living after all. I still have the lingering doubts though. I’ve tried looking up some people on facebook who are starting at the same time as me to attempt to make some contacts before I go, but everything I read from them just makes me feel hopelessly inadequate and worthless. No-one will ever want to be friends with me, I don’t want to get “fukkin recked” or drink for 24 hours which is what everyone else will be doing.

I just don’t belong with anyone, every group and society is based around getting drunk, even more so than the intended purpose from what I’ve heard and seen so far. There doesn’t seem to be much point in even trying to talk to people, I just can’t relate to anyone. I can’t change so drastically enough to be considered normal, or at least acceptably weird.

Is life worth living if you’re always going to be alone, despised, or at best ignored? I’m getting pretty tired of it really, 23 years is a long time. It’s hard enough to know that I’m far too hideous and boring to ever be loved, but I don’t know if a lifetime of friendlessness will be worth bearing.

Psychiatrist

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Last week I finally got a letter from the psychiatrists telling my when my appointment would be; the 26th of September. That meant I would have to get the train back here for 9:30am on the Friday of my first week at university. Luckily I managed to get my mum to phone up and they could fit me in earlier on the 6th so I will be able to go before I leave for uni and before I have my last appointment with the mental health practitioner. I’m not entirely sure what will come of it, but I am hoping that possibly changing my medication might give me some relief from the crushing lows I’ve had recently and hopefully they’ll agree with the psych I saw at the hospital and give me some diazepam to use as needed. I could really do with some for when I start uni.

We had some bad news this evening, my mum’s boyfriend, K, phoned and told her that his daughters boyfriend, whom she met in Africa, has committed suicide by shooting himself. I felt terribly uneasy when she was talking about it, I’m not entirely sure that she realised how very close I was to ending my own life last Saturday, if she hadn’t returned home then there was a very high chance that I would have done it. For some reason she seemed much more upset about this person who she has never met than she did about me. I’m a horrible person for thinking this, but I can’t help feel a bit concerned about that. I have no idea about the circumstances surrounding his death, I’ve never meet him or K’s daughter, but I felt a bit hurt after my mum was going on about how tragic it was when she seemed to be ok after a quick 10 minute chat with me.

Going out

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My mental health practitioner is always on at me to go out more, even if it’s just for a walk but a lot of the time I find it difficult to motivate myself to get out of bed. I often do feel better if I can drag myself outside for a while, though it’s not much fun to go everywhere by yourself, which I usually end up doing since I have no friends. 

I got a rare opportunity to spend the day with my sister today, she’s usually very busy with work or at her boyfriend’s house, I miss her a lot – we used to spend a lot of time together and unlike a lot of siblings, we get on really well. We went to the seaside on the train, I haven’t been to a beach since 2004 so was happy to be by the sea again. It was a lovely day but I couldn’t help feeling very guilty about what my thoughts and plans must have done to her. I get the feeling she’s worried about me, I wish she’d never found out that I was suicidal, I didn’t think it was fair to let her know but I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Anyway, I was feeling extra guilty and rather sad that it might be the last time we get to spend a day together doing something fun 😦 I still don’t know what I’m going to do in the next few weeks, I’d say it’s not likely that I’ll be here by the time my uni course starts.

I don’t really know what else to write, I’m feeling kind of empty inside at the moment.