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 If anyone was asked about me they’d probably think “He was so withdrawn and sullen, I was in his class for 10 years and he never said a word” before lying with a similar cliched load of rubbish.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.
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.
From The BBC:
People’s health could be harmed by social networking sites because they reduce levels of face-to-face contact, an expert claims.
…He also says that evidence suggests that a lack of face-to-face networking could alter the way genes work, upset immune responses, hormone levels, the function of arteries, and influence mental performance.
This, he claims, could increase the risk of health problems as serious as cancer, strokes, heart disease, and dementia.
Wonderful. Websites are the only place where I get any kind of “social interaction” with people at all. Since I got back to university on Monday, I’ve said hello to two of my flatmates and asked how they are… and that’s it. Those are the only words I’ve spoken to people this week. If I was planning on being alive long enough for it to affect me, I’d be pretty worried about my physical health if this article has any truth behind it.
I’m not sure how relevant it is for the rest of the population, certainly people who I know of who use things like Facebook don’t seem to have any trouble socialising face-to-face with people. It hasn’t replaced them going out or anything.
I often worry about the mental effects of such long term isolation that I have partly enforced on myself. I can’t really find any relevant information on the internet, but I’m sure it’s unhealthy to be detached from society for so long. I don’t think I will ever feel a part of it even if I lived to be 100. I’ve never felt accepted as part of a group or even considered an “equal” to people who I’m around since I was a child. I’m working on another post about school and how my SA developed at the moment but can’t seem to concentrate very well.
I’m finding it hard to keep my mind on anything productive at the moment. Last night I couldn’t sleep even with pills because a thread which I read on an SA forum kept going through my mind. The person who posted it asked if you could see how your life turned out, would you choose to opt out and not have been born, I certainly would. I can’t think of any reason why I’d want to go through all that I’ve been through and not get any reward for it.
It’s a scary thought, but one which I can’t take my mind off at the moment. What if this is all there is for me? Absolutely nothing in my life makes being such a useless, pathetic and hideous person worth it to me. It’s not like I can think “Well at least I have friends” or think back to happy times with people, because I’ve never had any. Even the most optimistic (and unrealistic) person would be hard pressed to see a decent future for me, given how badly I’ve done at life so far. I know I’m always harping on about it but I really can’t stand the thought of always being alone and disliked. If nobody has ever found me attractive and I’ve been single (not just that, but actively mocked and derided about how undesirable I am) for 24 years, what chance is there of that changing? I’ve already seen from various data and graphs that I’m in a tiny minority of people, never having been in any kind of relationship at this age. The amount of people that get past that and eventually have normal lives must be infinitesimally small, I expect most of the people in the same situation as me are severely disabled or disfigured.
I really am trying to keep my mind off the bad things but they just keep creeping back. I overhear people talking, someone in one of my lectures asked another guy if he still played World of Warcraft (a time consuming online game, luckily I have not succumbed to its clutches) and followed up with “So you still have no social life then?” which of course resulted in much laughter. He then suggested that the guy should jump off a bridge. Hearing this kind of thing doesn’t help me, especially since I was planning on doing exactly that a few days ago 😦 I hear people who don’t want to go out on a particular night, despite the fact that they are always usually out all the time get called “antisocial bitch”, what must people think of me?
I just realised that my previous post was the 100th I’ve made on this site. I’m amazed at how quickly I rattled off 1000 words without really thinking about it, I guess loneliness and depression is one subject I know a lot about.
This site began with some blog posts I made on the now defunct social anxiety friends website, a place where I met some people who I still talk to online regularly and have met a few of in real life. I’m glad that I found them, they’re pretty much the closest thing I have to real friends and were probably more instrumental in improving my life situation than anyone else. I wouldn’t say that I’ve made huge strides since then, but I’ve done quite a few things I’d thought I’d never have the courage to do.
I really appreciate the people who read my website and post comments, thank you – you keep me (relatively..) sane and have genuinely helped me. It’s kind of liberating to talk about my problems with such lucidity on here, something that I can’t do in real life, though I sometimes wonder why I bother to announce these things to the world. It’s something I’ve been considering over the last couple of days and I guess that what I really want is an answer. I know in all likelihood there is no solution, I find it hard to believe that enough people have gone through the same experiences as me (I seem to be an aberration even on social anxiety sites) to make it likely that any will run across this site and give me any words of wisdom.
I suppose the fact that I’m still here must mean there is a small part of me that still has hope. Every day is still a struggle to find reasons to carry on though, I genuinely wonder (please tell me) if my life is really hard enough to warrant feeling this suicidal? Can people read my previous couple of posts and think that is a decent way to live? Once again, I do realise I could be a blind leper with cancer, and I do realise how lucky I am to have a roof over my head etc. Maybe I’m being naive but I imagine some people would be shocked at how badly (admittedly mostly due to my own faults) I live.
I just read this quote on a forum for people with social anxiety:
I’m a sexual being and I also want a lover. I’m not willing to compromise on that. Well for short periods of time, during illness and that – yeah, fair enough. But not in the longer-term.
This isn’t something I can even comprehend, that a person could make such demands of life. This may be pathetic, but that kind of thing is to me, in the same realms of possibility as winning the lottery, that’s genuinely how I feel about it.
Maybe it’s what blogging is all about, but I feel compelled to apologise for attention-seeking. I’m just so desperately lonely and deprived of human contact (I barely even feel human myself now) that I want someone to hug me and tell me I’m going to be ok, even if I know it’s not true. I wish I could feel alive even for a little while 😦