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 If anyone was asked about me they’d probably think “He was so withdrawn and sullen, I was in his class for 10 years and he never said a word” before lying with a similar cliched load of rubbish.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.

A Good Day

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I wanted to write about this earlier but with the annoying web hosting problems, haven’t been able to…

My university was closed on Thursday because of the snow. I found out before I got ready to go to my early class fortunately, but instead of spending all day in my room and just sneaking out to get something to eat as I usually would have done, I decided to go and get a drink from the kitchen and sat with my flatmates and the people from the opposite apartment. I actually managed to say a few words here and there which I was quite pleased about. Later on I went shopping with one of my future housemates, J, and we had lunch with E, the other girl we’ll be living with. It was nice to spend a bit of time with them and we actually had a decent conversation, I talked to E about films for quite a while before I went back to do some work.

Last week we’d planned to go for dinner at the pub on campus to celebrate getting our house for next year and this time we actually did go, unlike when they suggested going out for my birthday. It was just us 3 at first and then some of the girls from the other apartment came to join us for a few drinks afterwards and I actually had a nice evening and managed to act reasonably normal for once. I don’t think they thought I was too strange and I wasn’t completely silent the whole time which is about as good as it gets for me.

I’m not sure what happened to me, to be honset. It seems rather strange that I can go from being extremely depressed and constantly thinking of suicide to probably as sociable and happy as I’ve been for about a year or more within 24 hours. I’m aware that I could and probably will crash back down again soon, but it was nice to have a day where I wasn’t feeling awful for a change. I really, really have trouble believing that people don’t think that I’m a complete weirdo, but I didn’t feel that bad on Thursday. I almost fit in. I can’t help but feel something was up though, looking back on it. The day before I sent a message to E on Facebook, asking if they were really sure about living with me next year. I was feeling bad about how boring it must be having me as a flatmate. She was really nice about it though and reassured me that they wanted me to stay with them. I explained a bit about how I feel nervous around everyone but didn’t go into too much detail, but now I’m thinking that maybe she asked the others to be especially nice to me or something. Oh well, I suppose I should be happy but already the nagging doubts are coming.

I’m home for the weekend again, I’m not sure if constantly coming home is helping or hurting me. In a way, I couldn’t have done without it in previous weeks because I wasn’t eating when I was at uni and I probably would have gone insane spending that long alone. I feel like it might be better for me to try and spend more time around them though. It’s incredibly difficult and mentally draining for me to be around people and I’m not sure how long I could manage it for though.

Apologies if this post doesn’t make much sense, I didn’t sleep well at all for the past couple of days. I’m trying to ensure that I don’t get addicted to zopiclone so going without it for a while.

Beliefs Distorted?

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After the CBT therapist who assessed me yesterday suggested the Gillian Butler book: Overcoming Social Anxiety and Shyness to me as well as pretty much everyone else in the know about SA has, I thought I’d give it another read through. Now, one of the key things in there is about how you develop distorted beliefs about yourself and working out how to look at things in a different way. This is where it breaks down for me though, I appreciate the author is good at explaining what happens to socially anxious people in certain situations and identifies a lot of the thought processes that lead to these reactions but her methods of dealing with them aren’t really that great in my opinion. They might be ok if you only have a mild case of SA, or if you really aren’t ugly/clumsy/boring or whatever you think about yourself. They say you should look up what evidence there is to support your beliefs, in the hope that you won’t find any and that will allow you to challenge them. Well I decided to do a little exercise from the book and see what evidence there is for my negative beliefs about myself.

Belief Evidence
I’m ugly I would just post a picture but I don’t want the whole world knowing exactly who I am. I have been told so by many, many people. Probably in the region of 30-40. I’ve been called every name under the sun, laughed at directly to my face, pointed at and laughed at, people look at me and whisper to others and snigger, I can see mirrors. 24 years old and no-one has ever found me attractive, never been in a relationship. Optician told me I have a fat face, I’m overweight, pale, freckled, my eyes look half closed and it causes me vision problems.
I’m boring I have no hobbies or interests. I’ve had no friends since 1996, never go out anywhere or do anything. I don’t drink or like clubs or loud places. I don’t play any sports. There’s nothing interesting about me whatsoever, besides as a possible scientific study in isolation. I hardly leave my room. I’m so scared of people I sometimes don’t eat because I’d have to interact with them. I can’t start or maintain conversations. I don’t have strong feelings about music, tv programs or whatever else is popularly done. I don’t know anything about books, films, music, any topic of conversation you could possibly think about. I spend probably 50% of my free time in bed, alone. I don’t care about mundane details of people’s lives like who is going out with who.It’s obvious from the fact that I have no friends and that nobody would want to spend time with me. At best, I am ignored and invisible to everyone.
I’m socially inept This can be interpreted from the previous two really. I don’t know how to talk to people and haven’t had any friends in upwards of a decade. Never had a girlfriend ever. I go days without speaking a single word to anyone. Every time I’ve tried to speak to someone they get away as soon as they can and never show any interest in talking to me again. People avoid me if they know who I am and how utterly boring and inept I am.

That’s all I can be bothered to write out for now, I might do the rest in a later post. As you can see though, there is no lack of evidence for my beliefs and there is no evidence to suggested they are distorted in a major way. I don’t know how they are going to argue against this and convince me to change my mind. If they can come up with something that makes logical sense then I’m open to it, but I don’t think there is such an argument to be made.

Unfortunately I feel like CBT or any other self-help approach is based on the false assumption that “everyone is ok” and no-one is fundamentally unacceptable within a society.  Whatever approach they take with me, they’re going to face an uphill battle because I am objectively defective and weird.

Feeling Inferior

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I recently found out what apartment I’ll be staying in at university and through facebook, one of the people I’ll be sharing a kitchen with. Already I have started feeling hugely inferior and worthless. Just a quick glance at her page, full of pictures of her with friends on nights out, was enough to start me off feeling worthless. I can’t help but think what a huge let down it must be to discover that I am your new room mate. Even on my profile page I sound tremendously boring, I only have one photo of myself with another person. My interests are dull, I only have pity friends. It’s strange, the thing that makes me feel worst of all is how disappointing I will be to the other people I live with. I feel sorry for them for getting stuck with the freakish looking loner.

It’s only 2 weeks now until I move in there, I don’t know if I can do it. I tried to make myself forget about the bad things, but I just can’t put out of my mind how much of a huge step this is going to be. I haven’t even put much thought into how hard the work itself is going to be. I’ll have some time in the house on my own over the next couple of weeks since my mum will be back at work; I don’t know whether there will be anything to stop me this time if I decide to take the other way out.

Sticks and Stones

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The old adage “sticks and stones can break your bones, but words can never hurt you”, simply is not true, according to researchers.
Psychologists found memories of painful emotional experiences linger far longer than those involving physical pain.

From BBC News

Well that doesn’t really surprise me. I haven’t had many painful injuries myself, but the mental damage that happened to me over the past 10 years has had an extremely profound effect on me, so much that I’m now accused of being delusional about my negative qualities. I just can’t believe anything positive about myself, I see hidden motives and lies behind any compliments I receive. A lot of my SA stems from a horrible image I have of myself due to the psychological bullying at school and sixth form. I just can’t let go of it, no matter how many people tell me that I have changed or that what those bullies said wasn’t true. I think psychological bullying can be just as devastating as physical bullying.

Self hatred

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A few thoughts that I posted on a forum recently:

As the title says (I genuinely hate myself), I honestly don’t like myself at all. I don’t feel like I deserve help and when my therapist suggests trying to fight back against my “internal critic” and simply cannot do that, because I don’t believe any other way of thinking is correct. Telling myself that I’m “OK” or that I am not weird would be like trying to tell myself that I am not a man, or that I don’t speak English.

I don’t want to help myself, I feel as though I deserve to be depressed because I am such a loser and so pathetic. Whenever people try to say positive things to me, my first reaction is hostility and then disagreement, as if they were complimenting my worst enemy. 

I’m not sure exactly what is wrong with me now, morbid thoughts are almost constantly on my mind and I don’t even try to stop them, in a strange indescribable way, I am glad that they are there.

If a person hated someone so much and thought they were a waste of resources and a drain on society, if they thought that the person was so pathetic and such a loser that the world would be much better without them that they wished they were dead. Would you think that the person is bad? Evil? 

What if the object of their hatred was them self?