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.

A special kind of loser


That’s what I am. If I was just your average run of the mill nerd then I’d be able to hang out with other nerds, but no I don’t fit in there either. It seems like there’s no place for me in the world, the only other people I know of who don’t like getting drunk and things like that are religious types, which I am not.

I’m honestly sick of my life, the constant guilt that I should be making more of the opportunities that I have been extremely lucky to have, how ridiculously boring and uninteresting I am to 99.999999% of people. I’m tired of knowing how my life is going to turn out. I don’t want to be 40 years old, still living with my mum and if I’m lucky, working at McDonalds (though even that seems beyond my capabilities at the moment). I’m tired of spending so long obsessing over how much I wasted the potential to do well in life. Every time I think about the future I just can’t help but feel dread, the only comfort I have is knowing that at least I still have the necessary physical capability to kill myself. I feel genuine sorrow for people who want to do that but can’t 😦

I don’t know who to talk to, I feel like I want to talk but I’ve already caused enough harm by telling one person who I thought I could trust. I’ve emailed samaritans on 2 separate occasions in my life but they don’t really help much and I’m far too scared to phone them and I don’t want it showing up on the phone bill. I don’t really want to be talked out of it.. I’m not sure what I want.

There’s really no hope for someone like me, I just cannot cope with the struggles and hard things life throws at you. I can’t even get through the sanitised practice life that is adolescence and university, let alone the “real world”. I am too scared to get a hair cut, go to the dentist, make phone calls and any number of things a person needs to be able to do. I can’t even pick what clothes to buy without asking someone whether I’d look ridiculous wearing them. I doubt there are as many people as sheltered as me in the entire world.

I’ve seen other unpopular and nerdy people in my life but they always seem to somehow break out of it or at least accept themselves and other accept them to a certain extent, but it never happened to me. It’s like there’s something missing from them that I have, I wish I couldn’t see how pathetic and weird I am, it’s like a curse. If I could forget about it, maybe people would laugh at me for a while but eventually come to like me as they did with those other people. As things are though, I just stay in the background, never daring to reveal my true self.

I used to see other unpopular folks try and talk to people and cringe at how much they were making social faux-pas and feel a certain kind of smug satisfaction that I had not done something like that. In reality though, staying quiet (and I do mean quiet, more on that later) and out of view has done vastly more harm than good. To use a tired analogy, I think socialising is a lot like riding a bike; sure you can avoid falling off if you never try but in the end you are never going to learn. I took the easy way out and never tried. I used to think I was above socialising and that my intelligence was all I needed to get far in life. Now I’m older and a little wiser, I realise than social skills mean much, much more than that, and intelligence is just a bonus.

Before I leave this hellish existence, I feel I must leave some explanation for my loved ones (i.e family) if they don’t already see why I would no longer want to live this ridiculous life. Hopefully whatever I leave on this blog will serve as a cautionary tale to anyone going through the same experiences as me and hopefully they will change before it’s too late.