Losing Control

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The past few weeks have been pretty unbearable, I haven’t been able to summon the energy even to complain on this blog. I’ve been feeling completely trapped and hopeless, several times a day I’ve been on the edge of breaking down into tears for reasons that I can’t easily explain.

One thing that’s been causing me considerable anxiety and fear is the group project I’m going to have to do at university which involves me working with randomly chosen people on a project that will last most of the year. The lecturers are making this out to be the most important thing ever, and with each dire warning they give about the importance of communication etc I only become more and more hopeless of being able to cope.

I’m terrified that one day I will break down in class and not be able to continue. I already feel so awful that I cannot face anyone, but even at my house I can’t seem to escape being disturbed by my housemates. I’ve tried explaining to one of them about my anxiety and how I get so stressed out but understandably, she obviously doesn’t realise the extent of my idiocy and how even the slightest thing puts me on edge for hours.

I’ve lost so much weight that my family have noticed and my clothes no longer fit properly, I only managed a proper dinner once last week, the other days I was unable to face the shared kitchen. I can’t stand the people who come round to our house. My housemates boyfriend, D, is now at the university and spends a lot of time at our place. He’s the exact opposite kind of person to me; confident, loud, outgoing, self assured and not afraid of offending people. The other night all of his Halls flatmates came round and woke me up after they’d been out drinking. I was so glad to be in bed away from their hideous shouting and insulting. It was a stark reminder of how much of a misfit I am and how I could never ever be accepted by people and nor do I want to spend time with people like that again. I’ve had enough of that in the past, putting up with being a metaphorical punching bag for their constant insults.

I don’t think I can cope with things, I feel like dropping off the face of the planet. There’s literally no hope for a person like me who cannot handle the easiest of lives.

I spoke to my tutor about the problems I’ve been having and he told me that it would be possible to suspend my studies for a year, but I don’t know whether I’d be able to go back after all that time off, I’m not sure I could manage it. Even more pressing is the financial situation, I only have 2 years (including this year) student support left so I’d have to pay the full amount of fees myself for the 3rd year and I’ve already signed a contract for the rent of this house which I wouldn’t be able to do if I wasn’t receiving my student loan.

There’s nothing I can do, I’ve got to try and muddle through until I fall apart at last.

I’ve become obsessed with finding places to jump from again 😦 I read a news story about some girls who jumped from a bridge in Scotland and tried to find out  how to get to it. I don’t know if I will end up doing that, I really don’t want to take any chances being “saved” this time.

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Time is running out

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Things feel like they’re crumbling. I have to pay for my uni fees again this year and I’m almost financially tapped out. Unless I can open another student bank account with an overdraft, I’m going to struggle to make rent. I’ve been hunting around for things to sell on eBay and for a job, but just looking at my C.V. reminds me of what a complete loser I am. 24 and only 4 months of real work experience and almost a years worth of unemployment. I’m going to be straight to the bottom of the pile/bin for whatever I apply for, especially in today’s economic climate.
The more I am forced to think about real life the more I realise I can’t cope with it. I’m just too weak, mentally. Some people say they over analyse things, but I do this so much and to such an almost psychotic level that it stops me from doing almost everything. I can’t even think about doing things because I don’t want to consider how badly I’d screw them up.
Everything from what clothes to wear to how I walk, what my facial expression looks like is a pain that drives me crazy. Can you imagine someone that is thirsty but daren’t go in a cafe to buy a drink because they have some malformed idea about not being “good enough” to go in a place like that? That’s what I’m like. I can’t even explain it properly, my brain is just broken.
I remember a shop that I wanted to go in a while back when I was at college. I used to walk by every day but I could never get the “courage” (it seems ridiculous using that word in this way) to actually go in there. I take self consciousness to an extreme new level, I’m honestly amazed I can go outside at all. I barely did for about a year but being inside gets too boring and mind numbing.
How is such a messed up individual supposed to cope with the world? I started listening to the audio series on overcoming social anxiety by Dr Richards, and he introduces himself as a former sufferer of SA and how he used to be scared to go to the mail box in case his neighbours saw him and talked to him. I can relate to this somewhat, but then he goes on to talk about how anxious his job as a high school teacher made him. This is the problem I always find, it seems like everyone always has at least some normality about them. How do you get a job like that if you are as bad as me? When I talk to other people with SA it’s always the same story. The line that consistently makes my eyes roll is when people say “I’ve got no friends except my boy/girlfriend”. Well how the fuck do they manage that but not be able to make a regular friend?
I just have too much wrong with me and I’ve been to lazy and scared to fix things when it was possible. I don’t care what people say, 24 is too late to start a life from scratch. I’m a fucking write-off.

Things feel like they’re crumbling. I have to pay for my uni fees again this year and I’m almost financially tapped out. Unless I can open another student bank account with an overdraft, I’m going to struggle to make rent. I’ve been hunting around for things to sell on eBay and for a job, but just looking at my C.V. reminds me of what a complete loser I am. 24 and only 4 months of real work experience and almost a years worth of unemployment. I’m going to be straight to the bottom of the pile/bin for whatever I apply for, especially in today’s economic climate.

The more I am forced to think about real life the more I realise I can’t cope with it. I’m just too weak, mentally. Some people say they over analyse things, but I do this so much and to such an almost psychotic level that it stops me from doing almost everything. I can’t even think about doing things because I don’t want to consider how badly I’d screw them up.

Everything from what clothes to wear to how I walk, what my facial expression looks like is a pain that drives me crazy. Can you imagine someone that is thirsty but daren’t go in a cafe to buy a drink because they have some malformed idea about not being “good enough” to go in a place like that? That’s what I’m like. I can’t even explain it properly, my brain is just broken.

I remember a shop that I wanted to go in a while back when I was at college. I used to walk by every day but I could never get the “courage” (it seems ridiculous using that word in this way) to actually go in there. I take self consciousness to an extreme new level, I’m honestly amazed I can go outside at all. I barely did for about a year but being inside gets too boring and mind numbing.

How is such a messed up individual supposed to cope with the world? I started listening to the audio series on overcoming social anxiety by Dr Richards, and he introduces himself as a former sufferer of SA and how he used to be scared to go to the mail box in case his neighbours saw him and talked to him. I can relate to this somewhat, but then he goes on to talk about how anxious his job as a high school teacher made him. This is the problem I always find, it seems like everyone always has at least some normality about them. How do you get a job like that if you are as bad as me? When I talk to other people with SA it’s always the same story. The line that consistently makes my eyes roll is when people say “I’ve got no friends except my boy/girlfriend”. Well how the fuck do they manage that but not be able to make a regular friend?

I just have too much wrong with me and I’ve been to lazy and scared to fix things when it was possible. I don’t care what people say, 24 is too late to start a life from scratch. I’m a fucking write-off.

I'm still here

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I’ve been sleeping terribly, up for days at a time (I know other people have it a lot worse but I am dead after 3 days) even after taking sleeping tablets. I’m coming off zopiclone now though, haven’t had any since that first night.. I can’t remember when it was, days have merged into one long mess. I can’t concentrate, I’m too hot, one of the only people in the world who I can talk to with relatively little anxiety has gone back home so I won’t get to see her again for ages.

The pressure to get a job is mounting and the whole process just fills me with a mixture of dread and sickness. My thoughts constantly revolve around killing myself, I doubt an hour goes by when I don’t think of it once. I almost started taking pills this morning (after being awake all night again) but if I want it to work I have to make preparations. I can’t risk failure, my life wouldn’t be worth living anyway if I survived, it’s lose/lose.

I hate myself, I disgust myself. I can’t bear to look at myself because I am so repulsive. I’m so wrapped up in my own world that I am impatient and snappy to my own family. My mum keeps asking what’s wrong but she doesn’t really want to know. She wants to fix things but nobody can do that, it’s not like when I was little and could count on her to get me out of things. Every time real life rears it’s ugly head, I fall to pieces. I’m simply not good enough in every possible way.

I don’t know what to do, some part of me must want to be here still otherwise I would have done it already. I wonder how long I can put off the inevitable crushing reality.

Numb

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I have been awake since midday on Wednesday, the last few weeks attempt at sleep have generally me lying there tossing and turning until the wee hours before giving up and downing a zopiclone, which are become ever less effective as tolerance builds (that’s my own fault for taking them longer than Dr recommended). Wednesday night I decided to try and reset my body clock and just stay up until I felt ready to sleep, and I’m only just feeling drowsy now. I don’t know if the increased (30mg) paroxetine/seroxat has anything to do with it. My GP doesn’t think so but all I know is that it hasn’t helped whatsoever with depression/anxiety and the embarrassing side effects are there.

I can’t help but feel I am just treading water, running out the clock before I finally get the motivation to write an adequate explanation for killing myself and getting it over with. I can’t see what I have to live for any more, life’s passed me by and no matter how hard I try to play at being a real person, I just can’t do it. I don’t belong, I don’t fit anywhere.

The student loan company has decided not to lend me any tuition fees again next year, my mum’s boyfriend lent me vast amounts for the first year and he’s giving me some towards this years but I have to make up more of it myself and I don’t know how I’m going to do it. How can I go to a job interview and sell myself when inside I am wondering how I am going to be able to find a place where I can be undisturbed for 36 hours while I die. I can’t bring myself to make plans for the future because I half know that I won’t be here and it seems futile. I’ve exhausted all options from the mental health services besides being locked up, and I can’t see how that will help me at all. Maybe I am a danger to myself, but what if I always will be? I strongly believe suicide can be rational and I don’t see many counter arguments to say why I deserve or should want to stick around in this world for much longer.

I’m off to try and sleep now.

Despair

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pain weighing down coping resources

I’ve tried everything that I’m supposed to do. I’ve had a month long back and forth email conversation with Samaritans, tried to distract myself, talked to my family. A few months ago I went to the hospital of my own accord and told them I felt like I was in danger of killing myself and they spoke to me for a while and sent the crisis team round afterwards. None of this has changed anything in the long run. The problems are still there and they are deep lying and in some cases insurmountable.

The time has come when I can’t stop thinking to myself “Why bother?” I don’t think the pain is worth enduring any more. Life is no fun at all for me, I get no enjoyment from anything and I see no future worth looking forward to. Everything from now onwards will be a downward spiral of misery, loneliness and ever-increasing mockery and disgust from others.

What reasons do I have to carry on? I can’t think of any particularly good ones. Sparing my mum the grief is all I can think of that is stopping me right now but I don’t know how much longer that will keep my alive. Is saving her that pain worth keeping myself miserable and utterly despondent for however long she has to live? I don’t know, maybe for once in my life I will be selfish. I have no friends to leave behind, my funeral will be an empty place. Whenever you hear about a young persons untimely death on TV, people always say “He was so full of life and always laughing, everyone loved him”. If anyone was asked about me they’d probably think “He was so withdrawn and sullen, I was in his class for 10 years and he never said a word” before lying with a similar cliched load of rubbish. I can’t say anyone’d be surprised, I’ve always been “that guy” wherever I’ve studied, lived or worked.

I’m getting tired of thinking about the future. It’s a black hole of pathetic loneliness for me. I don’t want to rot away in some single bedroom flat, holing myself up in there day after day like I have done for the past 20 odd years. There are people on the social anxiety forums who are in their mid thirties and forties who are in that position, some of them still living with their parents and I can foresee exactly that same thing happening to me. I can’t live that life, I won’t let the people who laughed and tortured me have their theories proven right. I’ll take eternal nothingness over that.

The jealousy I experience every day is getting too much. When I went to the arboretum in my home town, there were lots of people around my age there sitting together in groups and just chatting or reading. It makes me want to cry because I’d love so much to be able to do such simple (and probably mundane to most) things. Instead I walked alone, trying to avoid looking like a drug dealer or homeless crazy person. Being an outcast is intolerably painful because there’s no end to it. The only solace I ever got was becoming a hermit and never seeing anyone or what I was missing out on. I can’t take that any more though, that was the cause of my first suicidal break down. I think it was 18 months with no human contact other than my parents and sister.

What triggered my break down was seeing a documentary about older virgins and a guy who decided at 23 (now younger than I am) to pay an escort to have sex with him. I realised how pathetic and what a monster people think of such losers like him. He was a joke, the whole point of the program seemed designed to mock and make a spectacle of these weirdos who were so undesirable they had to pay someone to like them. I’m not proud of this but after about a decade since puberty and having no experience whatsoever (I don’t think I even started a conversation with a girl when I was in secondary school, I can’t remember ever doing it anyway) kind of gets to you.. I considered doing the same thing briefly. The more I thought about it, the worse idea it became of course. Beyond the moral ramifications, I realised that even a woman who was being paid would probably refuse to come within 2 feet of me.

I don’t want this post to make me sound like some kind of sex crazed maniac, I’m far from it. I think humans have a need to express affection and love though. I need which I have never and will never get to fulfill. I’m far, far to messed up in the head and monstrously ugly to ever know what it’s like to hold another person close, despite how much I crave it. The agonising pain of seeing every girl I have ever liked go off with someone else, never realising I existed will always be there. I have no redeeming qualities and it would be delusional to think otherwise.

It’s been a long time now and I’ve given a lot of thought to it. It’s not a rash decision, I think tonight may be the night. I don’t feel like crying, just numb. I have the pills, I just need time alone.

Alone

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I’m sorry for all the attention seeking, I don’t have any other way of communicating with people though. I wish I had someone I could talk to about things, someone I felt comfortable with. Nobody wants to hear what I have to say though, nobody wants to hear about my pathetic life and suicidal intentions. I suppose I must still want someone to talk me out of it since I’m still around, but of course no-one can. There’s no way out of the mess I’ve made for myself, nobody has any answers or anything practical to tell me. My mum gets upset when I tell her the truth, last time she told me I shouldn’t talk to “those people” (the psychiatrist presumably) about what I told her otherwise they’ll think that I have “a persecution complex” and lock me up. She has no idea what she’s talking about of course and it’s probably incredibly upsetting to hear your son say he doesn’t want to live any more and doesn’t see a point in his life. That’s not helpful for me to hear though.

This isn’t something I can snap out of. I can’t undo 12 or so years of behaviour and magically learn everything that I should have picked up over that time right away. Even if I woke up tomorrow without any anxiety, I would still have no idea how to act. I feel like screaming at people who try to help me “What should I do?” I want to put a normal person in my body and watch them to see what I should do because I literally have no idea. I think they mostly just want me to stop looking sad for their own benefit, so they have one less thing to bother them.

Nobody seems to want to admit the truth about how messed up I am, psychiatrist look at me in disbelief when I tell them about my life and act incredulous. Samaritans are no help to me, I’m fed up of hearing the same old thing over and over. I’ve tried joining clubs and societies but nobody wants to hang around with a hideously freakish looking loner who doesn’t have anything to talk about. I feel like screaming it at the top of my voice over and over because they just won’t listen. I’m sick and tired of the people who are supposed to help me failing to acknowledge this. Maybe there just is no solution and I really am screwed. It certainly feels like that now. 

What should I do? Anyone? I’m getting to the end of what I can cope with. I’m sitting here in my room while the others are getting ready to go out, the contrast between how I and they feel couldn’t be much greater. I hear them talk about how much they love uni and are having the time of their lives and people who’ve been round here urging us to make the most of it because it’s so wonderful. I can’t help but wonder how that must feel, to actually enjoy life. It’s a long time since I did, 13 years since I was actually happy, before I became sad and then massively depressed. Life’s a lot easier when you are a child of course. I don’t think I’m ever going to enjoy life again, not least because I doubt mine will last much longer. I wonder what purpose I’m serving by just hanging on here, just about making it to classes and barely managing to stop the interrogations from my mother about how I’m feeling. It’s a mammoth effort, but for what? I’m lacking a reason to go on, nobody except my family cares about me. I wish they didn’t care so that I could just get things over with. 

It must be hard to imagine so I can’t really blame them, but most people have no idea what it’s like to have no friends. I get so jealous I feel like crying when I walk the streets alone like a homeless person, seeing people out with their friends. It must be nice to not have to eat alone every day, to have someone to walk to class with and to not have to sit alone. To be able to talk to someone about things, about anything. To ask for their advice. If you want to go somewhere, to not have to do it alone and look like a weirdo. I could list a million things, nothing makes you feel like such a loser as constantly being alone and knowing that there are horrible, mean, spiteful people out there who manage to convince people to spend time with them but I am even more dislikeable than that. 

Tracked my order today, sent 17th February. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist the temptation once they arrive. I keep finding myself eying up buildings wondering if the roof is accessible and if they are tall enough to provide a fatal drop. I’d rather not leave it up to chance though, I curse the low-rise cities I live in.