While I still have negative thoughts, I’ve been thinking with more clarity than I have for a very long time. I’m not sure why this is and km certainly not complaining. Perhaps it’s because my mind is no longer as consumed by my desire to fit in, make friends and find love. Perhaps my hormone levels have returned to where they should be after the crazy stuff that happened after the orchiectomy. I feel more at peace with myself and with the concept of being alone. It’s actually not so bad, as long a I can continue to find distractions and can focus on bettering myself from an education and skills standpoint, to make the eve that goal of returning to work easier, as I’ll be more employable. I am trying to focus on building some semblance of a life without people in it.
I barely managed 2 hours worth of sleep. I never sleep enough and sleep is seldom much of a respite anyway. I’m not physically tired from lack of sleep, but I’m tired of being conscious, tormented by my thoughts. I am so tempted to return to self-medicating; I’d rather be high, comatose or better still, dead.
Yet another night of insufficient sleep and a painful dream that I’d rather not go into. I woke up feeling nauseous. I don’t think Seroquel is the right medication for me. It knocks me out, but it doesn’t help me stay asleep and I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a freight train. When I see my psychiatrist next week, I’m going to ask to switch to something else. I lay in bed awake for hours, tormented by my usual thoughts:
“No one will ever want you”
“You’re a freak”
I also relive bad experiences and go over and over what was said to me and I take it in the worst possible way. I worry about the future and how I’ll never be able to find a job or find love.
I accept that I cannot live alone, but even with that in mind, it’s a situation that is forced on me because of factors beyond my control. Sometimes I need to be alone, but my need to socialize is greater. It’s not that I can’t take care of myself as far as cooking, cleaning, managing money and personal hygiene is concerned. I just hate my own company, because it forces me to think and there’s little or no way of distracting myself from such overpowering thoughts.
I was actually starting to get better when I lived with my mum for 2 months last year and also with the host family for 6 weeks or so back in 2015. While I sometimes chose to stay in my room, it was a great comfort to know that I could get away from myself whenever I needed to. I didn’t need as much support, as far as mental health professionals go. Though of course, life in the UK was considerably easier as my name and gender were legally changed back in January 2015, so there was never any risk of that ugly deadname ever coming up.
I was informed yesterday that Frontier are now offering internet, telephone and cable at this building. Unfortunately, I cannot sign up for it until I’ve got the court order to change my name with Social Security. As badly as I want (need( the internet at home, I’m not willing to open an account in the deadname. I don’t even want to see that name on a bill.
If the weather here didn’t keep turning cold again, I’d be able to go out and sit outside the clinic and use their wifi in the evening and at night, but temperatures of less than 45 degrees will kill my phone battery within 10 minutes of usage. Winters in Western New York are not only colder and more snowy than I’ve ever experienced, but are also very long. It’s already mid April and it still gets colder here than than most parts of the UK in January. It’s tolerable in sunny weather during the day, as long as there’s little or no wind. But the wind can make it feel 20 degrees colder than it actually is and makes it impossible to stand still for more than a minute or so.
I committed myself to attending a cooking group at 11:30 this morning, even though I don’t need to learn how to cook. I hope the guy that talks too much and too loudly won’t be there. He makes me feel very uncomfortable and stopped saying hello to me just because I can’t always respond. I hope I won’t be asked to do anything, because I am too clumsy and liable to drop or break something, especially if there’s an audience.
The cute young guy with the ginger beard hair who I assumed hated me held the door for me yesterday and asked how I was. Now I see that he probably just has social anxiety, as I do. People who I find attractive often make me nervous. I know I’d have absolutely no chance with him and he’s pretty short, which would make it difficult because of how much I loathe my height.
The weather has gone from spring back to winter in less than 24 hours. It was 64 yesterday, now this:
I need to be able to talk to my online friends, especially at night, which is when I can’t. I lay awake from 8pm until past midnight, staring at the ceiling, while my thoughts went to full-on torment mode. Seroquel eventually knocked me out but I woke up again at 4am, following an intense nightmare involving one of my old bosses being shot dead.
I can’t connect with people face to face at all. I’ve been here just a couple of days and I’ve noticed how poor or even non-existent my social skills are. At the dinner here on Tuesday, a guy tried talking to me, but I could barely speak, aside from mumbling and I started shaking and sweating anxiously, because I had nothing in common with him and no idea what to say. This is more than just social anxiety – this is being on a very different wavelength to everyone else and I’ve always been this way, but as my anxiety has worsened, my social skills have worsened too. The internet helped, because it tallowed me to communicate freely and in my own time, but now I don’t have it anymore. All I have now is an even bigger void and a more intense feeling of loneliness from being totally cut off most of the time, which I did not need, nor did I expect. Since I’m ugly and weird. I’m someone that repels people, rather than someone that people would gravitate towards.
With nothing and nobody to distract me, this is going to get very bad very soon.
I might as well give up on sleep at this point. It’s almost 3am anyway. My thoughts are tormenting the shit out of me, as I lay here wide awake.
Everything seems so pointless. I don’t belong here; I don’t belong anywhere. Any notion of experiencing a seminormal and productive life seems so far out of reach. I’m mentally too far gone now. These last 3 months of loneliness and social isolation have been so destructive, as far as my self-worth and ability to communicate go. Even if I were placed in stable housing tomorrow, it’d be too late.
If I continue existing, the only future I’ll have is a future of loneliness, unemployment and getting older and uglier. The human race has already cast me aside and has made it clear that I don’t belong. So what am I waiting for? I already know how and where I’m going to do it. Now its a case of deciding when. There’s no other way to end the constant torment.
I wish my mind would stop racing. I don’t want to think anymore.
Not even 3 Seroquel pills prevented me from continuously waking up throughput the early hours of the morning. I had multiple nightmares, but I can’t remember what they were about.
If you’ve seen the first Alien film, you’ll probably be aware of the quote “In space, no one can hear you scream’. That’s how I feel, despite the fact that I’m not lost in deep space, battling a hostile alien species. Social isolation is my deep space and the monsters I an battling are my own thoughts. I would rather be lost in deep space than be where I am now. At least I could set my ship to self-destruct fort a quick death. Plus I wouldn’t be continually triggered by people’s words.
There’s only one person on this earth who understands me and that’s S. I wish I could reach out to her, but that wouldn’t be fair on her. I’ve written her several emails over the last few months that I ended up not sending. I wish I could talk to her and just feel a tiny bit normal again. I don’t know whether to just send her at short email asking her if she would be willing to talk to me. But I can’t do it, nor should I. It would be very selfish of me to dump my shit on her; I’ve put her through enough.
Taking on full responsibility for my shitty situation is proving to be extremely difficult. The social isolation is making me very ill and I can’t see myself ever getting better. I’m screaming, but no one hears me. I might as well be lost in deep space.
I’m back in the void, stating at the ugly truth that is both my reflection in the mirror and my future. I take one step forward, only to be pushed two steps back. I won’t get to talk to another human being until Wednesday next week, which is an eternity as far as my sanity is concerned.
Perhaps I should avoid social media, but it’s my only connection with the outside world. Most people ignore me anyway, almost as much as they do in real life.
I can’t stand my own company, stuck in this room being tormented by an endless barrage of destructive thoughts and painful memories. I can’t be alone; because it causes so much damage. Because of social isolation, I’ve become a total nervous wreck around people in general. I can’t hide my anxiety anymore, so I retreat whenever people I don’t know get close to me. Living in a motel is a nightmare, in that sense. I feel like I’m in danger every time I leave my room. I jump when the phone rings or if there’s a knock on the door. Never before have I felt so afraid or so alone. The world looks like a very scary and hostile place through my eyes.