Once again, I slept poorly. I did try my hardest to stay up as late as I could, but as I sat in the empty ground floor common room alone, I started feeling extremely depressed and I had to call it a night just before 9pm. I couldn’t go out to use the internet because it was pouring with rain. To make matters worse, it’s snowing now and even colder. Rochester’s weather is definitely trying to make my life as difficult as it possibly can. The weather is always at its worst at evenings and weekends, which is when I need to get online. While I waited for the Seroquel to kick in, I tried to listen to the local alternative station, but they keep playing the same songs that I can’t stand over and over again, from god-awful overrated bands such as Imagine Dragons and some other stupid band called Catfish And The Bottlemen. I don’t know what happened to music, but it’s a lost cause.
I had a nightmare involving S and one of my old cats that died 10 years ago. I don’t remember much about it, but it was enough to upset me. I woke up just after 2am, in pain from lumbar spinal stenosis and unable to get back to sleep. I can’t do anything about the spinal stenosis until my name is changed. I’ve had it for most of my adult life, but it only hurts when I am lying down or sat down in one position for too long and it’s not degenerative.
I went to the biweekly community meeting, but it was pointless. I felt severely awkward and anxious throughout and didn’t say anything. The property manager isn’t getting wifi for the building and even if the building was cable ready, I wouldn’t be able to afford it. I don’t understand why they can’t just provide wifi for the entire building, especially as many residents (including me) would pay a contribution towards it that would most likely cover the costs of buying a few routers and a new server. I have no internet and no phone. If I ever need to contact someone when I’m in my apartment, I won’t be able to. It’s going to be bitterly cold on Saturday, which is going to make the weekend even more lonely and unbearable.
I’ve pretty much written off my chances of making a friend in this community. I don’t feel comfortable or safe here yet and I can’t see anything changing in that sense. I’ve been here 6 weeks now and if anything, I’ve only become more reclusive and more afraid of people. The staff here are nice enough, but I don’t like to keep bothering them. I do not feel comfortable with going to the groups or activities they have here. I need help with going out, such as someone accompanying me to shops that I’ve never been to before, cafes, gyms, libraries and someone to come with me on the buses here, which I’m scared to use on my own. They do have group shopping trips, but they always seem to clash with my medical or care management appointments and I miss out. It’s never certain that I’ll feel confident enough on any given day to go grocery shopping alone on the bus.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel no less lonely and isolated than I did at the motel. At least I had the internet there and never needed to go out at weekends or evenings. Loneliness is a major catalyst as far as my suicidal ideation is concerned. It makes me hate myself that much more and validates all of my insecurities. It robs me of any slither of motivation that I have to try to get better, because I ask myself “What’s the point, when I’m going to be alone forever?” .
While at the clinic yesterday afternoon, one of the other clients there did engage me. He’s a veteran and he was at the nutrition group I went to. He was doing most of the talking, but I didn’t mind. When I told him about how I got harassed by 3 men last Saturday evening at a local Family Dollar, he said he’d have stood up for me if he’d been there. I didn’t doubt him for one second. Those stupid thug bullies would be no match for a combat veteran. I found myself wishing that I had a boyfriend like that, or just a friend willing to protect me. It would make an enormous difference, put it that way. I feel guilty and weak for having PTSD at all, because I’ve never been in combat or seen anyone die. My PTSD was caused by things that many people go through and just deal with. My triggers would sound ridiculous to someone that had been in combat. And before you silently ask yourself “She talked to that person, so why can’t she talk to others?”, bear in mind that it was only him and I in the care management waiting room and it’s a very controlled and safe environment. Had he enagaged me when other people were around, I would’ve shut down and politely walked away.
My existence has become nothing more than an endless series of gauntlets, obstacles, bad surprises and setbacks. I live in fear of what might happen next and I don’t like to think about the future. I’m tired of being so alone and so ugly.