On Depression (Again)

 I'm back on SilverCloud. 

After a few weeks (months?) of debating with myself whether I should reach out to GP again, I instead self-referred for talking therapies and after yet another telephone appointment where I went through my history, current state and reasons for the referral, I panicked at the thought of more targeted help and asked for the one that I've done before and can at least try and approach in my own time. 

I've had limited success (but not no success) with CBT before, so I'm trying my best to approach this as an opportunity to improve on previous effort, become more aware of my cycles of thought-feelings-behaviour, and just find somewhere, anywhere, to interrupt the spirals before I hit the bottom. 

It is, still, frustrating to read the exact same things again, to skim through the theory because I know how this is supposed to work, I know the model that is the basis for the therapy and I know the techniques that I'm going to be asked to use. As I said in my assessment appointment, I know what I need to be doing, I just can't seem to keep it up. And that becomes another stick to beat myself with, another "see? I'm useless". 

I am just about managing to stick with my morning exercises ("but I'm doing the easiest possible level"). The heat waves are interrupting my running schedule ("but I don't always do the full run anyway") and all my attempts at improving my diet keep failing ("I just don't have any willpower"). Finding the time/motivation to meditate or practice mindfulness is always a struggle ("it's like I don't want to get better"). 

I still go into work regularly ("but I don't do anything there") and I still see friends. I've got my regular social engagements, and say yes to as many others as people suggest. I'm planning on going away twice in August - including hopefully to see a football match even though I find both traveling and the idea of being in a crowd of strangers terrifying. I read every day, I do puzzles, I walk the dog, I listen to podcasts and music and watch YouTube videos, sometimes even ones that aren't by the Green brothers ("but none of that is helping"). I joined more Discord servers ("but I'm too shy to join in"). I do at least some housework ("but not enough"). I buy myself things I want and give money to charity ("isn't that supposed to make me happy?"). 

I keep making plans for the future ("but I might not be here") and keep getting out of bed every day ("but what's the point?") and keep trying all the things that are supposed to help because the alternative, not doing all that, feels too much like giving up. And while I am not sure I will ever be "better", I don't want to get "worse". 

I find it so hard to find hope, despite studying the masters, that hope feels forever out of reach for me. But in the absence of hope, there is at least sheer stubbornness, and I think that's what's driving me at the moment. 

[Fiction] Twenty-Five Years of Submissions to My Favourite Dubious Advice Podcast

 I've been listening to a lot of Dear Hank and John so inevitably keep thinking about what I would ask, but as "*gestures at everything* help?" wouldn't make a great question, I decided to write a story instead.

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Dear Hank and John, there's a really cute girl in my quantum mechanics lectures and I kind of want to ask her out but everytime she even looks at me I just forget how to form human words. Heeyyelp?

Dear Hank and John. What are some good second date ideas?

Dear Hank and John, how do you decide on a phd topic? I've wanted to be some form of scientist since I was very young and decided to study mathematics and theoretical physics at university - I figured by the time came to do a PhD I would have an idea of what I found interesting and what I might be good at but the problem is...everything is kind of interesting? And finding something new, something genuinely new that no-one else has ever done before (which is what you need for phd) seems way to big and scary. Obviously I'm getting lots of advice from my supervisor and other researchers but I'm worried that whatever I choose I'm going end up stuck trying to make progress on for the next few years and what if I get it wrong? Am I making a terrible mistake and should I just go get a job instead? Any dubious advice is greatly welcomed.

Dear Hank and John, is a Batman themed wedding a terrible idea? My fiancée and I have been engaged for just over a year now and what started as a joke became a serious plan as we looked up ideas for accessories to add to our clothes, themed cocktails and food, invitation designs etc. We're both pretty psyched about the whole thing but my parents are convinced we're joking. I don't know how to convince them we're not, and I'm starting to wonder whether they'll just refuse to come if they find out we're really going ahead with it. 

Dear Hank and John - thank you so much for answering my question about the Bat-wedding! Just to update you, we talked to my parents and it turns out my mum thought we were going to be wearing full cos-play rather than just, you know, taking a few photos wearing masks etc. When we explained that no, my fiancée would be wearing a dress, I would be wearing a suit, they came on board with the whole idea and ended up having a great time. Attached are some pics from the big day. 

Dear Hank and John. I'm going to become a parent. I'M GOING TO BECOME A PARENT. AAAARGHHHHH!!!!!!!! HOW DO YOU BRING UP A WHOLE HUMAN BEING??!!!

Dear Hank and John,  do you think there'll be long-term consequences for all the babies and children growing up under lockdown? I understand why we need to stay isolated and try and get this worrying disease under control, but I'm worried about my little girl, as she hasn't really been able to interact with anyone other than her parents. At first I suppose that didn't really matter because she was so small and we were just trying to get used to having a baby and meeting her basic needs, but she's growing so quickly now and it feels like this isolation is going on for a lot longer than we thought it would. Will she just totally freak out if someone other than us picks her up? What if this goes on for years and she doesn't get to meet kids her own age? Sorry, I guess that's unlikely. The uncertainty is getting to me.

Dear Hank and John - what do babies dream about?

Dear Hank and John, so I'm finishing off my phd and I have to start looking for jobs (and probably should have started some time ago) but I don't really know what work I want to do? I don't want to stay in academia, partly because I'm just burned out but also because it's so hard to find a permanent position and it seems unfair on my family to uproot them every two to three years as I chase postdoc places around the country. I just can't imagine what else I might be good at though, and every time I look at vacancies nothing leaps out at me as being interesting or, frankly, doable. Do I even have marketable skills? I'm a mathematician, but I can't do statistics or much coding and have pretty severe social anxiety which rules out a lot of jobs. What is there left? 

Dear Hank and John, how do you pick a name for your second child - it took us long enough to decide on the first one! If it's a boy, we're fine, because we have the unused boy's name from our first child, but we already used up our favourite name for a girl. Suggestions welcome.

Dear Hank and John, how does my four-year-old know more dinosaurs than me? Do all children go through a dinosaur phase? What's your favourite dinosaur?

Dear Hank and John, when is it ok to give up on things? Obviously just abandoning something as soon as it gets hard is not a good way to get better at doing that thing, and I do get that sometimes things that are hard are worth perservering with. But when you've been trying and failing to do the same thing repeatedly does there become a point when continuing is just creating misery for yourself? How do I give myself permission to accept there are some things I just won't be able to do?

Dear Hank and John, why are there swear words? Did we just decide as a society that some words are...bad? And if so, why?! Thinking of this as I desperately try not to accidentally teach my two-year-old swears....

Dear Hank and John, does my dog *really* understand what I'm saying?

Dear Hank-sorry, Dear John and Hank, so here's a weird situation. The window cleaner left a ladder down the side of our house, presumably by accident, but he hasn't been back to collect it and we have no way of contacting him. It's been three weeks. Do we just own a ladder now?!

Dear John and Hank, at the end of job interviews when they ask if you have any questions for them, what are you supposed to ask? All the advice I've read suggests you should ask, like details about the job or the facilities but not things like how soon you can book vacation or whatever. But...actually all the interviews I've been to have been pretty upfront about everything I would possibly want to know. The advert usually states expected start date and what the job will entail, they usually give a tour of the office so I know where I'd be sitting etc. But not asking anything makes it seem like you're uninterested apparently?! What am I supposed to do?

Dear John and Hank, HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO F***ING IRON FITTED F***ING SHEETS? Or should I just not bother?

Dear John and Hank, what the heck happened to the AI revolution? Weren't we all supposed to be out of jobs by now?

Dear John and Hank, how much salt is "a pinch"? 

Dear John and Hank, why are teenagers? Just why? Was I this awful at that age? Should I go and apologise to my parents right now?

Dear John and Hank, I've been trying to "get fit" and have taken up running and...it's kind of just awful. I've heard other people talk about how good they feel after a workout etc but I just feel exhausted and, at best, relieved it's over. Am I doing it wrong? Do I need to be running harder or for longer? Or does not everyone get that "runner's high"?

Dear John and Hank, did you really think you'd still be doing this podcast now when you first started? Do you have a favourite episode or are there just too many to keep track of?

Dear John and Hank, what can I do as a parent to help my child with exam stress? She seems to be having a much harder time than I did, maybe because I was weird and actually enjoyed exams, or maybe because there's just so much more pressure on kids these days. I'm really worried, and no matter how much I try to reassure her that things will be ok regardless of how well or badly she does, she just seems to be getting more stressed. What can I do to help?

Dear John and Hank, wait - Americans don't use the word "fortnight"?!

Dear John and Hank, what's a polite way to tell people you don't want to "get over it" or "get through it" and maybe they shouldn't assume there is some kind of normal you can get back to. Like, actually, some things have changed forever, and we should acknowledge that. 

Dear John and Hank, what do you do when you feel like your life is...kind of over. My partner died last year, my kids are mostly grown up, my job is...ok. I don't have any real ambitions any more because any I did have I put aside to concentrate on my family and now just don't mean the same to me. I'm not the same person I was twenty, twenty five years ago, which was the last time I was by myself and I'm not sure what I want from life now. It all feels a bit pointless. I know i have friends and family that still care about me, it's not like I'm feelling suicidal, I just don't know what I'm supposed to *do* now. What is the point the life?

Pride

 I have complicated feelings about Pride. Beyond the whole "argh, people" thing, I never quite felt like I belonged there. 

A lot of it is internalised biphobia I guess. I've mostly been attracted to men throughout my life, so am I really bi? Is it just a convenient explanation for why I was so unfazed by my partner's transition? Aren't all women a bit bi?

It's not like I've really suffered much because of my sexuality; my teenage and young adult years were spent just assuming I was straight, and, sure, once Jess came out the microagressions got a bit tiring but that was nothing compared to what she had to go through. What all trans people have to put up with: now possibly more than ever. So when we first started going to Pride, it was because Jess wanted to, and somehow I always felt like I was going to support her, nothing to do with me.

Today was the first in-person Pride since COVID, and therefore the first since Jess died. There was no way I wasn't going. For her, obviously, but also for me. 

To prove to myself that I could. That I could cope with the people. That I could cope by myself. And that I was allowed to be there: just me, in my pretty subtle pride top, existing. And I had a good time, in my own quiet way. Met hardly any of the people I know that went, didn't dare attempt bar and didn't feel like queuing forever for food, but I managed the march without issue, I wandered round the knavesmire a bit and found a local cover band that I will probably never get round to hearing play again. 

Now my feet ache quite a lot, and I feel like another milestone, another "first since" has passed. And more importantly, not once did I feel like an imposter who had no right being there.

Yes, it's been a while, no I'm not going to address that

 It's the hope that gets you.

Maybe this time it will be different. This new drug/dose combo will be sufficient for you to make and maintain the lifestyle changes, and you'll feel great. You'll actually keep up the new habits this time. Ok, the last diet didn't work, but this one will for sure. You're a new, better person now! You're not going to keep making the same mistakes!

After everything you've been through, surely you've learnt some perspective. You know this won't last forever, so it will be easier to handle. You managed last time you made a phone call, so another will be just fine. You're forty-one now, for gods' sake, you can handle a little disappointment. 

But it's not just about you. Oh no.

Maybe you read the signs wrong. Maybe they didn't notice you were flirting. Maybe there's still a chance. Surely that couldn't happen here. Surely now people will demand change. Surely someone will do something to stop it.

And then you find yourself at the bottom of a pit again. Just like before. Habits slip. Health deteriorates. Thoughts stuck in cycles oh so familiar from oh so many years before. It feels like the end of the world. You freeze up. Everything upset is a killer blow. Nothing ever happens. The world keeps getting worse and worse. 

And once you climb back out, you look down into the pit and think, "Well that can't happen again. What can I do to stop it?" 

And you do it.

And you hope.

Sudden Breakup

It's taken me a day or so to get together my thoughts but I think I'm about ready to try putting them into words.

At first I was shocked and then angry and then just terrified. Now I'm beginning to accept it with a sad sense of the inevitable - let's be honest, we both knew it wasn't going to last. Despite what you might think, it's not that I felt I could do better. I loved it while it lasted, although maybe I didn't always show it. And in reality it wasn't you - it was me. I was just not going to be the person you wanted me to be. I tried, maybe I could have tried harder. But you shouldn't have to put up with me and my problems out of a misplaced sense of loyalty, or worse, pity. And you helped me a great deal, but you shouldn't have to wait the years it could take me to improve. You need someone right for you, now. You deserve that.

I wish I'd done things differently, but still, I'm trying not to blame myself too much. Wallowing in self-pity or worse, regressing to how I was before, would do me no good and I intend to take this opportunity to regroup and learn and maybe even figure out what it is I really want from life. Things move on, there'll be other chances, and maybe one day I'll find "the one".

I just want you to know I'm sorry it didn't work out, and I don't blame you for giving me the boot. I hope you can forgive me my faults, and there will be no hard feelings between us. I promise this is the last you'll hear from me, unless I desperately need a reference of course.

So goodbye job, it was nice knowing you.

Wait, what social anxiety?

I seem to be getting better at this going into shops thing. Sunday I rushed into town to get a last minute surprise present for Daddy - who turned 30 on Monday, shhh! Don't tell anyone - and after staring in desperation at the bottles of sherry in Oddbins admitted to the shopkeeper I didn't have a clue and he pointed out the only sweet sherry they had in. We also discussed the possibility of port, but unfortunately the only bottle of that they had in appeared to be leaking, so that ruled that out. Still, I bought the sherry (a sweet oloroso) and it was much appreciated.

Today, I finally caved and decided we should "waste our money on cough medicine", despite the doctor's advice. Daddy has been struggling with a cough for some weeks now, and it's worn him out utterly. His reluctance to take things easy to start with probably didn't help. Last weekend I did manage to persuade him to spend most of the days in bed and he's only been working part-time this week and crashing out in the afternoons. Having done a little research, I went to the local pharmacy and asked for cough medicine. Explained a bit, chatted and decided to get the strongest non-drowsy dry cough syrup. We'll have to wait and see whether it actually helps or not.

So it appears the trick is to be too tired or stressed to worry about saying the right thing. Whether this works as well on the telephone as in person, only time will tell. Although I still have to resort to being rude to cold callers: "Sorry, I'm not interested," hang up before they have time to start talking again. I feel a bit mean as they're only doing their job, but if they're paid on commission then they're just wasting their time on me. So maybe I'm doing them a favour....

In other news, I'm being tired and irritable all the time, although this might be due solely to having more to do while Daddy has not been well. Work is also not going well. Social life (such as it is) is full of tension and other tired and irritable people. The Terror is still pushing although that might be because he's tired and irritable too. Solution - spiking the water with laudanum.

GM Performance Anxiety

I really should be doing prep for my game tomorrow, but decided to drink cider and surf t' 'net. And blog about gaming, as I haven't really been doing well at the "write" resolution.

I've been making an effort to get interested in RPGs and GMing generally as I'd been running my D&D game for a bit now and mostly drifting...reading some books, yes, but nothing really beyond that. So I've tried to read more threads on RPGnet and found a blog on GMing which admittedly I've only really glanced at. I actually have no idea what I'm going to write here...was going to describe my game a bit but that might be boring. Well, I'll summarise.

My original idea was an Order of the Stick style game where the characters knew the rules and had some idea about how narrative drives events. As the Terror had been watching a lot of the '80s Dungeons and Dragons cartoon, I then went with the whole "ordinary people transported into world of fantasy idea". Which naturally led to the set-up of the PCs being players in their first ever 4th ed D&D game who ended up in the game world, inhabiting the bodies of their characters. Much confusion followed. Especially as two of my players decided to play old characters from previous (non-D&D) games and one decided to play one of the others. Or something. As it is, they're mostly tromping around doing usual adventurer-style stuff and I've failed to find a way to use the "Dungeonmaster" NPC to any effect - mostly due to a lack of plotting on my part. I really should be planning for tomorrow's session.

There are many things I feel I should be doing better as a GM. Sessions seem to drag - I never know what my NPCs are going to say, don't really have a grasp of the rules and occasionally forget that I'm allowed to just make an ad-hoc decision without looking stuff up. Players are distracted and getting them back on track is beyond me. Still have no idea if some of them are even enjoying it, beyond an excuse to hang out with friends. Maps, I am useless at, so combat tends to be a bit haphazard as we put together bits and pieces of map tiles and lego. Still haven't thought ahead very much about what treasure to give out, let alone how I'm going to throw enough encounters at them to progress at the rate I intended (seems a natural "story" is not quite a level's worth). I guess most of this will work out by itself in time, and if I actually could be bothered to think ahead a bit more and do more prep (which I really should be doing now) I might feel more in control. A lot of this is stuff I've struggled with right from the beginnings of my attempts to GM, and some (indecision, lack of characterisation and underwhelming NPCs) is a problem in my roleplaying as a whole.

As a player, I started off with simple, combat-focused characters, who mostly did nothing until a fight broke out and then attacked the nearest thing. And really, I haven't progressed much beyond that. Ok, with Bob - my ranger in J's Ravenloft campaign - I have had some ok roleplay. It's Ravenloft, he's gone crazy. He's currently an alcoholic who violently attacks his own reflection and trusts no-one except his companion wolf. But this means he still mostly just tags along with the rest of the party, occasionally doing ranger-y things, and getting drunk at every available opportunity. My attempts to be a more social-orientated character in a Weapons of the Gods game were...poor, frankly. Despite being surrounded only by friends of some years, I still get "stage-fright" about roleplaying and fail to think of the right things to say or do. Even in a "my character does X" way. The pressure is more intense when GMing, even though I'm sure most of my players would be happy if I just chucked hoard after hoard of zombies at them. Or dragons, or kobolds or whatever.

Again, I set my standards too high for myself. But there is no harm in trying to better. I just wish I knew how.

Dangers of Warpy Thoughts

I'm still waiting to pick up my prescription. Last few days have not been fun, but I'll put that down to withdrawal badly timed to coincide with beginning work again. Still, I've managed to get a small but non-zero amount of new things written down in my thesis, so I can't say to myself "I've done nothing this week".

In lieu of any actual help from the PCT Mental Health Team, I've been going it alone for a bit now, and my next step in trying CBT on myself has been joining up to MoodGYM. I flew through the first few pages because I know all about the warped, negative, thinking associated with depression, and I'd like to think I'm getting better at identifying it in myself, but I still have problems actually replacing it with something. So I'll let you know how (and if) this helps.

What prompted this post was that I've just finished reading an interesting article in the New Scientist about "emotional contagion" - how our behaviour and feelings are influenced by those around us and the people they hang out, and the people they hang out with in turn. Read the article, it explains it much better than I could here. Near the end, it points out that actually cutting ties with established friends may be going too far, but perhaps we should spend less time with people whose traits we do not wish to share - like negative thinking. Naturally, my negative-thinking brain thought, "true, I shouldn't inflict my bad moods on friends as it'll just bring them down". Fortunately I managed to halt half-way through the "they're better off without me" and stopped myself from withdrawing further into gloomy thoughts...but it did lead to a few minutes reflection on how "I'm so miserable no-one wants to be my friend" is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

And of course, I'm one of the lucky ones who has friends. Many more people with social anxiety or an autistic spectrum disorder (or indeed, other problems) suffer from social isolation and depression and being reminded that we as a species are inherently social animals is as bad as being given the impression that people avoid them because they have "undesirable" traits - true as that may be. I had half a mind to write a stern letter to the NS about their responsibility towards such people, but realised that was a bit unfair. It's society as a whole that is biased against those who are not "normal". I'm fairly NT actually, but get riled about anything that discriminates against people with autism - and my own mental health problems are enough to mean that I struggle with a society that just assumes you can talk to someone on the telephone, say. And occasionally I feel the need to be the one who stands up and says "hang on a minute, you can't treat us like this just because we're can't complain" and promote understanding of autism and social anxiety and other disorders which cause complications with everyday social interaction. We need an advocate - someone to tell the "normal" people what it's like, to point out we are not incapable of finding a place in society if only they'd let us and make sure the disability equality legislation is applied (as it should be) to us as well.

Of course, someone capable of doing all that would be unlikely to fall into this group in the first place - that's why I don't do anything about it. I can't face going to a psychologist for therapy that could actually help me get better, I certainly can't stand up and give a seminar on how society is biased against those who have communication and social difficulties. Duh.

So rather than writing a rambling, rant-y letter that has no coherent point and therefore won't get published, I'll just post this instead. There's still the outside chance someone will read it. I mean someone other than the two, maybe three, friends who read my blog anyway. I've probably ranted about this at them before.

Drunken ramblings

I suppose for authenticity I should have kept the typos in the title. But I'm not quite that drunk. I'm drunk enough for fluidity of talking/typing, drunk enough not to care what shit spills out and drunk enough not to care if the punctuation and grammar is a bit off. Drunk enough not to care if it doesn't quite say what I mean. Not so drunk I don't realise that my thoughts are largely futile and alcohol-induced (and the depression, that always plays a big role).

Good evening (Bender's Game is awesome btw) finished with me rambling self-pityingly about my unemployability, while good friends of course tried their best to reassure me. I know what they say is at least partly true, and that they don't mean to belittle my difficulties. I still feel maybe they don't quite grasp how hard I find some things, but at the same time I accept my own view of my abilities is marred by the depression and general negativity that has haunted me all my life. Pessimistic bastard that I am. ("marred me all my life" - how fucking melodramatic. Ah well, I'm pissed. I talk in clichés at the best of times.) And I am willing to take it on trust that things will work out in the end. It's the only way I can approach life, to be honest, even though it goes against my better, cynical, nature.

Depression's a bitch. It makes you see only the bad, remember only the failures and predict only worse things in times to come. Even being aware of this filter isn't enough to disregard it entirely, especially with such long-running problems as mine - you know from past experiences that you've failed to do things, ergo you cannot do them. But as anyone with a smattering of economical awareness will know, past performance may not be indicative of future results. So there is hope. However slim. But there is hope. And even acknowledging that means I'm not as ill as I have been, and thus things have improved.

I guess this is an apology of sorts, for ending things on such a downer, as well as a demonstration (as much to myself as anything) that I can actually write, possibly even coherently, if only I stop the internal censor from getting in the way and trying to make things perfect. Now if only I could find a way to shut that censor up without having to drink two large glasses of wine first....

Weekend + Birthday!

The Terror was packed off to Grandma and Granddad's for the weekend, where he apparently had a good time but can't tell us anything about it. Other family was also staying, so he got lots of clothes and toys and mostly behaved himself.

Warning: the following paragraphs contain larp-froth

His Daddy and I were off larping on the North Yorkshire Moors. It was my first small event, and as I'd bought kit and got a new occupational skill at the Gathering, I was fully expecting to die. I didn't, and more miraculously, hardly anyone else did either. With monsters throwing off Mass Diseases left right and centre we burnt through our healing pretty fast and several of us ran out of power half way through Saturday afternoon. Rhiann certainly didn't like having to tell people she couldn't do anything when they brought people with Fatals to her. Then spent rest of day and night wandering around physician-ing and feeling pretty useless - doubly so after being hit and brought back to a Debilitated state which meant I could pretty much nothing. Sunday big battle was also fairly lethal,still can't believe everyone made it out alive.

Overall I think I enjoyed myself. Still had the beginning of event blues where I feel useless, nervous, left out etc, and didn't do as much healing as I should have done, but obviously it was sufficient and no-one complained (to my face anyway). Only the one anxiety/panic attack which I quickly got under control - strangely not at the most terrifying moments while actually under attack, but during a bit of a lull while I was trying to heal Seraphim and lost count while people were shouting and I realised I was running out of power. I screwed up several times and really ought to revise the healing/damage rules before going to events, maybe I'd feel more confident then but never mind.

And I got to drink Kopparberg perry and Moniack mead - what more could a girl want?

Today was a bit of a mad dash as it's the Terror's fifth birthday. 5! Can't quite believe it, but he's at school and everything so I suppose it must be true. He had a small present to open this morning and take to school - a WALL-E plushie which came home with the head pulled off, hopefully Daddy can fix it....I spent the day tidying, baking a cake and setting up his main present: "Dungeon of Doom" from the ELC, which they apparently no longer sell so we got it just in time. It's from the same range the Tower of Doom but smaller and cheaper. He was impressed at least. The cake wasn't a huge success and as we went out for tea with Nana, we were too full to try any this evening anyway. Now the excitement's over, I'm left wondering where we're going to fit the bike he got from Nana, whether we're actually going to get round to organising some sort of party for him and his friends, and what to do now. Other than go to bed, which seems to be the best bet, despite it not being even nine yet.

Tomorrow it's back to trying to fit in both work and housework with not feeling too depressed. Ah well.

Hmmm..

Last post didn't really live up to it's title did it? That was partly because I was constantly interrupted by the Terror wanting help with his games and then I cut it short because it was lunch time. So let me ramble some more.

First of all, I'd better admit that I'm well aware that my own assessment of myself may be coloured by a depressive illness and the negative filters associated with it. I agree with my SO and my GP and not with the psychiatrist who apparently is the expert that I do in fact seem to suffer from clinical depression and some form of social anxiety which may be the root of it. I know that this means I'm likely to forget positive memories and concentrate solely on the bad stuff and I'm in the habit of not trusting my own critical facilities on many issues, not least of all "me". Having said that, while it's easy to recognise a thought or statement issuing from within me as possibly unduly biased, it's a lot harder to replace it with something more balanced. Not least because I'm the only one with inside knowledge to what goes on in my brain and thus have a slightly different perspective on my actions to everyone else.

So...what is it I really wanted to say about "ennui and the death of ambitions"? There's these lines from the Del Amitri song "When You Were Young" which keep preying on my mind: "Look into the mirror/Do you recognise someone?/Is it who you always hoped you would become/When you were young?" I guess we all fantasize about how things are going to turn out - what we're going to be when we grow up, etc - but I've spent so much time doing so it was really only a few years ago I realised I was always looking to the future and not paying attention to now. This is my life, it's not going to start at some point, it's happening right now and...I've missed a chunk of it. And despite not even being thirty yet I can't help but feel I've missed the best part, I've done nothing so far and it's too late. It doesn't help when you start seeing people younger than you achieving wonderful things. And yes, a large part of my unhappiness is this bitter envy I feel towards many, many talented and creative people. I used to want to be a writer but I've pretty much given up writing because I'm too lazy to stick at it and even when I do manage to hack out something it's always mediocre at best and I'm so disillusioned I just don't see the point in trying harder. A similar thing is happening with my academic work.

Of course, a lot of this laziness dates back to school when I didn't really need to try very hard at all. When you're clever and everyone tells you so you just assume you don't need to work, and often you don't. It comes easily, why try harder? If you complain that you're bored, your mistakes and faults are pointed out or you end up lumped with even more boring work, so you just learn to drift by, getting top grades with only as much effort as you feel like putting in. So when things got harder (around GCSE time) the doubts set in and you begin to think you're not so smart after all. And because everyone expects you to do well, it really doesn't mean much when you do. Or worse, you don't do as well as expected. You should have worked harder. Same thing right the way through university as well - sure everyone said they were proud and pleased that I got a First, but if I hadn't they would have been disappointed as everyone (me included) knew I was capable of it. So here I am struggling to write-up, determined to keep going only because if I give up now I'll have wasted a lot of people's time, money and effort. I have no faith in myself anymore. I know I'm lazy and bursts of writing like this are only possible occasionally and only when I let myself write instead of trying to communicate exact ideas - not any use for a thesis. But other people, more optimistic people, people in a better position to judge maybe, believe I can do it. And maybe I will. But you know what? Even if I do manage it, even if I do hack out a hundred pages or so that somehow pass muster, even if I do actually turn up for my viva and manage to say something - yeah, sure I'll be happy, I'll celebrate and I'll be a tiny bit proud. But it won't last long. I'll still feel as though I don't deserve it. Because I'm not as good as I want to be. Because I didn't work as hard as I should have. And because I was expected to be able to do it. The very best I've ever managed to do is live up to people's (including my own) expectations of me. Mostly though I fail to even do that. Talk about running to stand still.

In other areas of my life I ought to be happier. I have a wonderful, loving man who wants to marry me and an adorable healthy son. But I don't feel like a good mother, despite everyone telling me I'm doing fine. I don't like playing with my son, I'm too selfish to be a parent really. (You can't deny I'm self-obsessed, given the length of this post!) And while I spent much of my life pining after the wrong man and believing I'd be happier in a relationship with someone I love, I discovered the obsessive crushes didn't stop once I'd settled down. And that led me to almost ruin the best relationship I've ever had, and I badly hurt the person I profess to love. So I have a hard time believing I'm a nice person, despite what other people might think, and can't help but feel they'd both be better off without me. As that isn't a realistic option, I keep having to pull myself back together and try and become the person they deserve. But, frankly, I don't want to. I fail to get out of bed in the mornings because I don't want to have to go through the motions of yet another day pretending to be someone I'm not. I try and suppress all thoughts about what I want to do precisely because they don't involve my family and my family has to come first. I had ambitions but they were unrealistic and now I can't afford to think about the future too much because even the present is causing me problems and I can't imagine it getting better.

I think I've rambled enough. Time to get on and do some work. Which I don't want to do anymore, but I have to, because I have nothing else to do.

While writing this I listened to: Hangnail - Nickelback, Reject - Green Day, We're Not Going To Take It - Donots Welcome Table - Dan Zanes with The Blind Boys of Alabama, Lucy - The Divine Comedy, Seven Days - Sting, Black Night - Deep Purple, Catch the Sun - Doves, Be My Downfall - Del Amitri, Come Together - Robin Williams feat. Bobby McFerrin, Whisper - Evanescence, Don't Pay the Ferryman - Chris de Burgh, Eyes of a Child - Michael McDonald

Overcoming internet shyness

One post at a time.









Still hurts like hell though. :(

Let's face it I never have anything interesting to say.

But I might as well keep this blogger account just in case I ever do.

Meh.

Midweek update - seen the shrink

Last few days have teetered between being ridiculously happy and terrified and depressed. So on to today and my first meeting with the psychiatrist.

It was....difficult. Of course. I could hardly answer her questions and she has a quite a direct and almost confrontational manner. I suspect that would have changed if I hadn't responded to it by trying to defend myself. But I can understand how she got a little irritated when all I can answer is "Sometimes", "I don't know" and "I can't remember". At one point I foolishly lied to cover up a possible mistake on my part (although it turned out it wasn't my fault I hadn't been informed) and claimed to have reduced my medication when I couldn't remember being told to. Eventually I confessed because my claims of not remembering seeing my GP or what he said weren't exactly standing up to scrutiny mainly because I haven't seen him in months. So I'm starting to reduce my dosage from tomorrow. Hopefully I'll remember!

Eventually we established that there are things I enjoy and I can talk fluently sometimes and I tried to explain that it was when I was trying to think what to say in advance that I tended up clam up because I try and think of the best thing to say instead of just talking. When I disengage brain and engage my mouth, I can talk fluently, otherwise it's a real struggle. It's a similar thing with writing as well, although it can be difficult to communicate a specific idea.

So should be seeing her again in four weeks or so. Maybe next time I'll be better prepared and more able to stop myself giving trite answers.

Pub!

Another week of not much. Slight panic mid-week when it transpired I really needed something of a timetable attached to my thesis plan for the upgrade paperwork, but once I'd cried a bit over that (and eaten a cookie) I managed to dredge up my supervisor's comments about how things should progress. So I should have a rought draft in July. Ha!

I attempted coffee time twice this week. Mostly didn't cry afterwards. A Certain Lecturer (ACL) was there and I didn't hassle him and I think I'm just about getting the hang of pretending I can carry on living without him, which is good as it's only a few weeks until he leaves. Also managed the pub this evening - was very pleasant and even stayed for a soft drink after ACL had left. See, I can manage this socialising malarky.

Terror has been...terrible this week. Still in a very whingy mood and fighting me every step of the way. Time out twice this morning, both times for running around and climbing on sofa/me when I told him not to (and for grabbing his sweets and refusing to hand them over at lunchtime). He's also had his moments of cuteness - like waking me up this morning by shoving his cd player in my face and telling me it wasn't working (he hadn't put the cd in properly so it wasn't registering a disc). He then quite happily `danced' along to the music - Dan Zanes and Friends' Catch That Train - while I was getting dressed. (Thanks to TomB for the present of that album - Daddy is a huge fan too!)

Also, Daddy saw doctor for his low moods and is also on citalopram. It's the antidepressant of choice at the moment it seems. Hopefully it'll help him more than it's helping me - although I do seem to be getting a little better. Maybe because I'm concentrating on just keeping on going. As tempting as running away from life is, I have a moral obligation to keep trying to cope. And currently, that seems to be enough to see me over each obstacle.

But I am going to miss ACL when he goes. Another reason I'm not looking forward to Christmas.