Hello my friends,
I hope the Christmas day is not being too unkind.
The intention of this post is to introduce myself. I imagine I will be here for a while, and thought it polite to do so before sharing out the trite advice of which I find so often to be true. But I must first apologise; I am in a bad frame of mind tonight and realise I may sound incomprehensible.
You should know that i have decided to make a change. I have decided [selfishly] that to better help myself, I will attempt to help others. You see, I have run out of ideas and am now desperate. This is my project.
I am 22. A student in the UK. A recluse [unwillingly]. My strange unmanageability in social settings have made me, to others, dispensable. But I am not bitter because of it; it is my awkwardness that is to blame.
Three years ago I was officially diagnosed with depression and social phobia. I was referred to treatment after desperately trying to persuade others I had an extreme and unidentifiable form of  brain tumor that could explain my symptoms. To this day, I still hope I do. This seems nonsensical; but it would mean that, if I were to have it surgically removed, the outcome would be one of two things: happiness or death. I would be satisfied with either.
Either way, I have since stopped taking my medication [by my own neglect]. I regret ever taking it: it was helpful. Before, if I was not preparing the ‘when’s’ and ‘how’, I would be drafting the letters that were to be read by my family members after my death. 4-5 years; 2 attempted suicides; NO DEATH. I should be grateful. I’m not. The medication seems to have removed me of all suicidal thoughts but has kept me with the desire to die. That is to say, I no longer think about killing myself, but think everyday of being killed. I am desperate.
This is me in the present. Waiting..
In the meantime, I am here to help any way I can.
4 comments
Most of the poisons that I have been “prescribed” throughout my life mainly felt like no more than a ball-gag. I mean, I felt no different, but somehow could not express it outwardly. A very strange and even more painful situation internally. However, those around me feel better because I am “outwardly” okay. How sick is that??? 😀
When they ‘diagnosed’ you with a social phobia, what did they mean exactly? Some form of Asperger’s Syndrome?
Thank you Irspow for putting to words what I did not understand.
My Psychiatrist always seemed confused when I returned her irritating question of ‘How do you feel?’ to an ‘I don’t know’. I gave up trying to explain.
And to Causeway. Reading back on my post I apologise for not being more clear.
It is Social Anxiety Disorder (in conjunction with Agoraphobia) that i meant and not AS.
…’diagnosed’ may better be applied to graver issues & put to wrong use in this situation.
Hey LH,
“I am 22. A student in the UK. A recluse [unwillingly]”
Okay, thats actually quite cool you have such a high self awareness.
Unlike many other issues people have, this one i believe is quite considerably easier to remedy. I won’t profess to know any other issues you may have, but that said, I am more then happy to chat whether via here/email/msn if you like.
Social comfortability if approached honestly and practically, is a little like ‘learning to walk’.
Everyone is ‘a little unsteady’ the first few times (that’s perfectly normal trust me; you’re not a freak).
Please feel free to say hi …. happy to chat