Solitary Confinement


I often wonder if being isolated so much can make you go crazy. Some weeks I barely open my mouth to speak, I’ve been in the single digit words a day many times. It’s easy for me to do, I don’t have any friends on my course so nobody says anything to me before or during classes, most of the time when I’m at the flat I just stay in my room. It’s not like anyone misses me… Sometimes when I get home and see my mum or sister, I talk uncontrollably like I have piles of words built up inside that I need to let out. None of that stuff is things that would be of interest to anyone else though, it’s not just a matter of me being uncomfortable around people at uni, I genuinely have no idea what to talk about with them.

I used to get the same thing at work. I’d go in at 1.30 and say hello, then other than answering any phone calls (which I completely detested) I’d be silent until 10.00 when I got picked up, then I’d come home and babble my head off for a while. I honestly think that I would have gone nuts if I didn’t have the internet to make some connection with the outside world. I’ve no idea how people like me got on in the past, they were probably taken away to a padded cell somewhere. 

Today hasn’t been too bad apart from the overwhelming sense of loneliness and isolation. When I was on the train yesterday I overheard a conversation which hammered home just how pathetic and hopeless I am. It wasn’t anything nasty or cruel, I just can’t come to terms with how I am the complete opposite of what people want in a friend and especially a partner. I got thinking about how I’m coming up on a quarter of a century of being alone, it’s extremely doubtful things will change now. I bet if you ask most people, they had a boy/girlfriend when they were teenagers, no matter how silly that seems to them now, it’s still more serious than I’ve ever had. I looked up a poll on a large student forum in the UK and 80% of people had their first kiss before they were 18, 90% before they were 19. It’s rather depressing knowing that I’m in at least the 90th percentile of disgusting, repulsive people in the country. 

I know that I shouldn’t worry about, that this is the last thing that should be on my mind and that getting worked up about my lack of a relationship is a little like getting worked up over a paper cut when you just lost a leg, but I can’t help it. Even if there was someone who could accept my horrendous appearance, I’ve got a long way to go before I’m not crazy any more. After all, if I hate myself and constantly wish myself dead then I don’t know how I can reasonably expect anyone else to like me 😦

Oh well, here’s a couple of photos that I took today. It’s a steep walk up to the cathedral and I was tired out by the time I got to the top.