Another year, I’m surprised that I made it this far. This time last year I was just beginning the journey down the NHS mental health system and it seems to have taken a lot of effort to actually get somewhere, despite the fact that my problems have been enough to personally concern several of the staff I’ve been in contact with.
I keep looking at the amitriptyline, can I swallow that many pills? The prospect of being 24 and still in this situation is not a pleasant one and it’s rapidly approaching. People seem to act like if you want to kill yourself, you must have something deeply wrong with your brain, or more frequently, that you are just looking for attention. Trust me, I’ve spent more hours of my life avoiding attention than just about anything else. I don’t understand why living is so great, if I had the choice to have not been born, I’d take it in an instant. Nothing happens to make the pain and sadness worth suffering through.
Is living 80-something years of unsatisfying drudgery so laudable? I can’t remember a time in my adult (or adolescent) life that I’ve been happy and I see no reason that will change. The more I discover about life and how harsh and unforgiving it is, the more I want to escape its unrelenting grip. I’ve only ever been happy when I’ve been sheltered from reality. Not knowing what people are like in the real world. I can’t survive outside my protective bubble, much less experience happiness.
It’s generally accepted that it’s harder to make friends as you get older, and I’m almost 14 years without having made one now. Things aren’t going to get any easier. I’m too far behind to ever be normal, too socially retarded and emotionally undeveloped.
People try to tell me it’s not too late and things can change. I don’t know whether it’s petty of me, but the idea that sometime in the future, maybe 20 years from now, I might be able to make a solitary friend is not really a comfort. I don’t want to be a middle aged loser still living at home and catching the bus. The kind of person people avoid sitting next to and certainly would never want to converse with.
I hope the new year brings happiness for whoever reads this, I’m doubtful that it will for me.
The Social Phobic 