Sunday, November 1, 2015

5 years later...

Yes it's been five years since my last post. And I suppose if anyone has ever read this they are wondering... does it get better? 

No. It doesn't. 

Sorry to be a downer but life is life. I actually found reading through the last couple of my posts that I am freaking out about the same things... mostly: 'Every freaking day I'm worrying about my future, how I'm going to deal with this I mean I want a good job, how am I gonna get that if I can barely get out of the freaking house?'

Because that's the thing. Before I was worrying about the distant future, with the hope that I would have sorted my shit out by then. Now it is the very near future, and I know my shit isn't going to get sorted. 

So you may be asking. What's happened while you've been away? Where are you now? 

Well I am in my final year of university. Shocker I know. I even took a year abroad to post-pone the inevitable: Graduating. 

On top of my crippling social phobia, OCD and depression (oh yes, its back with a vengeance) I have the lovely addition of self harming and an eating disorder.

Yeah. Remember the whole 'the only good thing about my illness is that I lost weight'. Well you know what happens when you go on prozac and no longer starve yourself? You become morbidly obese. Well if you're me you do. And what happens to a teenage who rapidly gains weight? She of course makes herself sick.

I'm 21, and have never been able to hold down a job. And seeing as I can barely go to the 5 uni classes I have a week due to my anxiety I don't know how the hell I am going to hold down a job.

Believe me I've tried. Last summer I had a part time job, but it was literally babysitting so I didn't have to leave the house and I got payed less than the minimum wage. There is no way I'd survive off that. This summer I took a work experience in an office. Full-time and I barely lasted the week. I was having a anxiety attack on the train every morning. 

And the depression holy moly the depression. I have moved to a town half an hour away from my university because I thought the fresh air would do me good. I mean yeah its nice. But living in bloody Hawaii won't stop me from wanting to kill myself you know? It doesn't matter where I am I'm still going to have problems. 

I remember my post before; 'if something goes wrong I can always move'. How naive was I? I guess technically when I do become homeless because I can't get a job I could move. Move from park to park until I get raped and murdered. Sweet release. 

Because you know, what else can I do. I can't live with my parent's I'd end up killing myself. I doubt I'm eligible for benefits, and really living in a council house, probably a shared house? I'd kill myself. Yeah stick the person who is scared of people in a house filled with people. 

Oh yeah, I didn't tell you the best bit. Through maturing and going through many new experiences, being a student and having to live with new people.... I am more scared of them than ever. 

People are horrible and scary and before I used to just be afraid of embarrassment and failure, which yes I still am. But now I have to be afraid of being sexually assaulted in my own home and living with sexists, racists and homophobes. I mean alas, I am currently in a safe haven for the next few months having found a lovely female housemate, but this wont last forever, soon my student savings will be dried up and I have no idea what I am going to do. What am I going to do with my life? 

I am always anxious. Never able to relax. Never able to be happy. I can spend an afternoon walking along a beach in the perfect weather and... nothing. I still come home stressed and wishing I was dead.  

And what I said before about how 'dont belive its right to take your own life for no reason when you could use it to help other people instead'... I don't think I believe that anymore.