Hanging On


Trying to stay in positive (or at least not suicidal) mood. Today went ok, just had a workshop and a lecture to attend at either end of the day so I kept fairly busy. I managed to say hello to a couple of people here which is good, I suppose. Had a nice surprise in the form of a letter from the head of the computing department here at uni congratulating on my grades so far this year. Above almost everything else, I’ve tried not to let my mood (swinging from medium to terrifyingly low) affect my course, I spent so long unemployed and wishing I had projects to do and I really don’t want to lose out on this second chance that I’ve been afforded. Somehow I’ve managed to attend almost every lecture and workshop, aside from one week when I couldn’t get out of bed and I missed a couple. Certainly an improvement from sixth form and college where I’d frequently give in to the anxiety. It helps massively that I am only a short walk away instead of 30 minutes bus ride of course, and that being ignored is favourable to being made fun of all the time.

I’m still kicking about the idea of volunteering somewhere in an attempt to perhaps meet a few new people and practice talking more often. I know it’s no guarantee of those things but anything is better than whiling away the time doing nothing. Going to have a look into what is available in the area tomorrow.

Unfortunately my photograph-a-day plan has been disrupted but I did take one today:


You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

Sadly it’s only an Ibuprofen rather than an escape from this reality. I realised today that my flatmates were only 9 when The Matrix came out… Damn that makes me feel old.


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.