CBT Session 1


I managed to drag myself out of bed and into town, catch the bus and get off just about in the right place. I’m not feeling good at all, my emotions are all over the place and I keep wanting to cry, I think about the long road ahead and hope that it’s not too late to recover, enough to be happy anyway.

The appointment was yet another hour where I had to tell my tales of woe all over again, I swear no-one in the mental health services communicates with each other at all. I managed to get through a lot of it though, it’s becoming easier with practice I guess. I told her about my bullying by so called friends and year+ long depressive episode that I am currently in and how it’s been as bad as I’ve ever known. We talked about my suicidal thoughts and plans and agreed that has to be worked on before anything else. I was honest about everything, having a plan, going to the place etc. She was understandably concerned and I even admitted that in an emergency I would probably not be able to ring the crisis team (I hate phone calls and I couldn’t just ring up and say “Hello I want to die”) but we talked about other ways I could handle it. I told her about when I went to A&E at Nottingham and she said that if I get into a situation where I might harm myself, I could go to the hospital here and maybe I should do the journey so I know how to get there in case the need arises. She also took the Lincoln crisis team phone number and is going to ring them and explain what happened today, and said that if I really need to ask them to visit I should ring them, say I have been visited before, tell them my name and that I’m having suicidal thoughts and am scared.

It might sound stupid but knowing what to say has made me think that I can do it if I get into that situation again. I don’t know what my issue with phones is, but if I don’t know exactly what to say I get into a panic very easily, I think it’s because you can’t really pause or rely on people reading your expression or whatever.

I have another appointment for next Monday, and I should be able to see them on Mondays in the future which is good news because I won’t miss any more lectures.

Things are very stressful at the moment, I don’t want to feel like I did on Saturday and Sunday, it terrifies me thinking about it now and what the consequences could have been (they were bad enough as it is). I don’t know if the medication change is messing me up even more, venlafaxine is notoriously hard to come off, but I didn’t feel fully in control and my memory is hazy. I didn’t eat for 2 days and didn’t even notice. I wish I had someone I could talk to who could stay with me and keep me company/sane. I feel lonelier than ever, can’t possibly let my mum know because she just gets upset and makes me feel guilty. I can’t really tell my flatmates what’s going on or they will think (perhaps justifiably) that I am nuts. I’m going to try and rest for a bit now, spent half the night unable to sleep and checking my email every 20 minutes.

Also: updated my old “About” page.


Who am I, really?


I’m not bipolar or cyclothymic or anything like that (hypo/mania is thankfully something I don’t have to deal with.) My mood isn’t steady though, within 48 hours I have been the happiest I’ve been in years and back to suicidal again. I’m not over dramatising, I was cursing my luck that I left the pills at my university flat last night and the last train back had already gone.

People seem insistent that I should be the “happy” me and that when I’m down it’s the fault of depression, cause unknown. What if I am the sad person and when I’m happy it’s an aberration? Even when I’ve been in a good mood, I don’t suddenly find life wonderful and valuable. I don’t thank my lucky stars that I didn’t kill myself 2 weeks ago, or even 3 years ago when I first seriously planned to. Things are better than they were back then but not so good that I’d willingly go through it again.

Maybe I’m just one of those people who is always going to be unhappy, it seems more likely to me every day. I can imagine that if I won the lottery or something then I’d still be miserable. Perhaps it’s just who I am, but I don’t want to be that person.

I don’t know when I’ll feel suicidal next, it could be tomorrow or even later this evening. (I wrote this next bit in an email to someone, hope they don’t mind me reusing it) I am worried that if I feel like that again, I might go the whole way next time. Each time I have gotten closer and to be honest (if you ignore the fact that I wouldnt be here to say this) I wouldn’t be hugely regretful if I had killed myself a couple of weeks ago. I haven’t suddenly found life to be wonderful, I just don’t feel quite so crushed that action needs to be taken to end it. I have the energy to carry on for a bit more, but I don’t really know why I’m bothering other than I am worried about an OD going wrong or being paralysed if I jump. It’s hard to explain how I feel and I’m not sure a rational, sane person would understand but that’s the best I can do.

I wish my family hated me so I didn’t have anything holding me back, I’d honestly rather get this over and done with if it wasn’t for the fact that it’d upset them. As things stand, I’m just edging closer and closer towards the point where wanting to escape becomes stronger than not wanting to upset my family. I wonder how long they want me to keep up the pretense that I enjoy and want to live.

The crisis team are coming to see me tomorrow afternoon, the right thing to do would be tell them this, but I realise I can’t verbalise it properly. I feel ashamed that I want to die because I have things so easy compared to people with real problems. Perhaps I could write it down but I still have bad memories of trying that on my first GP appointment and him refusing to read it. I’m pretty sure I know what their answer will be; “The CBT will help you address this”. But I have major doubts it will change my attitude to life.

I don’t want to come over all nihilist, but I don’t see any value in my life. I want to know why people want to live so much, I fear I already know the answer and it’s because they experience things I have never and never will, things like true friendship, feeling a part of something, having someone who loves you.

Last night I annoyed one of my online friends by talking about this. I have a hard time believing that a fat, ugly, boring, inexperienced, lifeless, suicidal, depressive, quiet, immature, loner who has never managed so much as a kiss on the cheek in 24 years of life will be able to find a girlfriend. I can back all those adjectives up by the way.

What on earth would any girl want to do with a person like that? There isn’t really much more I could do or be in order to become less attractive.

I remember another boy in school who used to get made fun of because he never had a girlfriend when we were 15. In retrospect, that was pretty harsh and at that age being in such a situation probably isn’t too uncommon. The thing is, there will be girls around that age who haven’t had a boyfriend either and even the ones who do won’t expect much maturity from teenage lads (if they do, they’ll probably be disappointed). At 24 though, things are rather different. I suspect discovering that a guy who was still a virgin at that age would raise a lot of red flags, there must be something wrong if it’s not for religious reasons (I could make a point about the foolishness of such reasons but I don’t want to get even more sidetracked.)

I think women in their mid twenties have justifiably higher expectations from men than teenage girls. My friend tells me that it’s never too late to catch up, but I don’t see how it’s possible. When my parents were my age they’d been married 5 years, I know of people that went to my school in years below who have families now. It’s almost impossible to explain how utterly inadequate these things make me feel.

That 15 year old boy was probably nervous the first time he kissed a girl, but the odds of his partner being in a similar situation (according to the data I’ve found, assuming they are the same age) were reasonable so there would be the benefit of knowing that they were both in the same situation. I have to ask myself what girl (assuming they are insane enough to get past all the other crap and somehow like me) would put up with such inexperience from a person of my age? That’s just one simple example, I have no idea how to be in any kind of relationship.

In my whole life I’ve never talked about sex with anyone. I can’t remember when I found out the mystery of where babies come from but I wasn’t so sheltered that I had to learn in year 8 science class. People have made me feel as though I’m not allowed to think of myself as a sexual being though. That is a laughable thought. I’ve never talked to any of my “friends” (post coming about them later, it’s ok you can return from the edge of your seats now) at school about girls because to everyone there I was a non-person. Just a laughable entity who worked and got made fun of occassionally. During the whole time I was at high school I never once started a conversation with a girl and I only spoke when spoken to.

It was incredibly difficult for me to write that paragraph, I still can’t see myself as a person who deserves or is capable of forming that kind of relationship with a person. I am human though and I’m not assexual. I have a lot of issues, obviously and it seems to me that as I get older and older the chances of coming across someone who can accept such immaturity and inexperience are becoming exponentially less.



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.

Online Social Networking Harms Health


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.

100 Posts


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 😦

Note: I’m not criticising the person who I quoted. You’d better believe I’d feel similarly, were I in a position to do so.

Stupid SA


I’ve slipped back into old ways again. Since I’ve been back here since Christmas, I’ve only managed to make dinner in the kitchen once and that was when I knew no-one was in. I’m too scared to be around those loud people I don’t know. They scare me, I actually feel fear when I hear raucous laughter and conversations. I’m tired of letting this rule me but I don’t know what to do. I’ve been spending far too much money on sandwiches and drinks in town so I don’t have face them all. I worry about stupid things, like what food I buy and whether they’d laugh when they see what’s in my cupboard or think I’m weird or something. It’s hard to describe, but it’s the fear that people will have some undefinable negative feeling towards me that I experienced so many times in school, sixth form and the first uni I went to. I’ve had everything from my laugh to the way I walk picked on and criticised and it’s made me paranoid to do anything in public view. I worry about the most mundane things that people usually never give a second thought to.

One positive thing is that I might be able to see a different psychiatrist next time. I had to get my mum to phone because I was too afraid to do it myself, but my appointment with the creepy guy has been cancelled and I’m waiting to hear back about seeing a different doctor.

Also my CBT appointment has finally come through. I knew over a year ago that CBT was my best shot at getting better but it’s taken this long of jumping through hoops to get them to agree and set a date. I had to fill a CORE form in (don’t know if anyone’s done this before) which has several statements presumably to gauge how depressed you are and  you tick boxes from “not at all” to “most or all of the time”. I’m a bit worried about what they might think because I filled this in honestly, and I really do think about killing myself every day and all that… There was also a longer form where I got to describe what my problem is, how it affects my life and what may have triggered it in the past. This is the first time that I will have been able to fully express these things, the first time I wrote things down for my GP, he refused to read it and made me explain to him, which I struggle greatly with. I’m just hoping that they won’t dismiss me as unsuitable for it because of suicidal and depressed I am. I shall find out on the 2nd of February.