Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: Norfolk
I am currently:  
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my email to the samaritans....
Hi, so I haven't posted or even lurked on here for months. But had a serious wobble last night, ended up writing a really long email to the samaritans. No reply from them as yet, not even sure I really wanted one or just needed to get things out. But here is what I wrote, I think I just need to know I'm not alone feeling like this...
"Hi,
I don't know where to start or if this is a good idea, or whether I should just phone, except my battery is nearly flat and it'll take too long to charge.
I should be working on an assignment right now that's due on Monday, and I have currently written approximately zero words, so instead it seems like a really great idea to sit and write what may end up being a long email. What am I even supposed to say in this?
Basically to sum it up: I'm closer to 30 than I would like and I'm at uni in my final year of a bachelors degree and I just don't think I can do it any more. But I know deep down I don't want to quit, and I imagine that I might even feel slightly pleased with myself if I can get that certificate at graduation - but I'm not all that sure I'm going to get to that point. And more often than not I don't even see the point, in anything.
This isn't a new scenario, I've been like it for probably over 10 years on and off, but recently I have been feeling much worse. I had got to a point for a few years where I could 'function' reasonably well - get up, go to work, go to the gym, cook for two etc etc. - but now just getting out of bed proves stupidly difficult. Uni life is definitely a lot different to the 'real world', I think I had an idealised expectation of how it was going to be and it's nothing like that. Perhaps it's an age thing. There is so much free time, I think that's part of the problem - too much thinking time. Thinking about anything and everything except what I should be studying or working on. Then I feel guilty, then panic, then realise I'm not too bothered, then feel guilty some more, then eat a lot of junk food, then feel guilty about that, and ultimately decide that the work is not going to get done so what's the bloody point in trying to start - so going to bed and watching a film or reading, or just laying there in the dark seems like the best option out of everything. It's quite pathetic actually and I do often wonder if I'm just incredibly lazy?
For example, right now I'm looking at how much I've just written here and wondering why I can't just do it so easily for assignments? Especially with a deadline looming.......... worst thing is I haven't even had the panic stage, I just don't care. I have a part time office job and I am more bothered about that, which is stupid because I do it just to fill time and get a bit of money.
Whoever is reading this, I apologise for you drawing the short straw - even to me I can't understand the point I am trying to get across or what I want from you, yet I could write so much more about how miserable I feel all the time. Or currently it's more of a numbness mainly, like I 'float' through the days.
I tried to explain this to my doctor the other day but I'm not very good at talking or asking for - what, help? - in general. But he was really nice and I have seen him twice now and he actually doesn't make me feel like I'm putting it on and seems to listen to what I do say, it's a shame he's not a counsellor because despite me saying I'm not good at talking, I did find him easier to talk to than anyone else I've tried to before. But anyway, that's irrelevant. He wanted to increase my citalopram dosage but I said no at the moment, he only put it up for me about a month ago. I hate being on them as it is (since April), though I think they are working slightly. Mainly I'm not bursting into (or wanting to burst into) tears every 5 minutes which I was at that point. But I think the apathy is possibly because of those too, though he said it's hard to tell if it's just me or the tablets, but probably the first option.
Reading this back it's as though I'm writing some sort of blog, or memoirs, who even wants to read anything about me and why have I made it sound like a story? I would be more concerned if I'd written in the third person, but sometimes I do feel like I'm just watching myself and basically narrating in my head, and how I'm writing this is I suppose how I think to myself. Is that weird?
I honestly don't know what I am trying to achieve from this, not even sure if I'll send it, but I suppose as I have no idea who you are and visa versa I have nothing to lose. I guess it's just another ultimate procrastination session again, and I have just realised I have sat here once again all day and succeeded in achieving nothing in my life, except making it harder now as I have less time and even less motivation. And I'm unlikely to be up before midday tomorrow, the amount of times I go to bed and tell myself 'tomorrow will be different, just get up a little earlier and try and be productive even if it's only for half an hour a time'....... and it never happens. It's the same for other things - 'tomorrow I won't sit and eat a whole cheesecake in half an hour or munch through a pack of biscuits etc etc' or 'I will attempt to go for a jog, or at least walk further than to the shop to buy said cheesecake/biscuits'. Doesn't happen.
I literally just want to go to bed, and stay there. Not waking up would be a bonus, but just being able to wallow in self-pity is far too appealing - but seeing that written down looks awful, I don't even know what I feel sorry for myself over, it's all my own fault. It's me who lays in bed, it's me who doesn't study, it's me who doesn't make the effort to do anything outside of lectures/work (and that's a struggle), it's me who doesn't contact friends back home or go out with people here - then wonder why I'm lonely, etc. It's all ME - I make myself miserable, but I can't seem to help myself stop. I can see it happening, but don't appear to have any control over the urge to just bury my head in the sand and hope life will pass me by.
But I don't want to be like this any more, the fact that I even went to a doctor when I did and that I have been back (albeit to a different, more helpful one), was possibly one of the hardest things I've done because I saw that as a last resort - and what if the medication doesn't work? Then what? I've tried counselling - the whole 'not talking' about things was a serious problem and they couldn't seem to see through the fact that I ended up talking about pointless random things rather than any actual issues. And it wasn't by choice, I just couldn't get out words that I wanted to say and went into a 'this is my outside to the world persona and I'm fine' response. But talking to the Dr the past couple of times makes me think I have reached that point where I just need to talk now.... though I have been trying to sort out sessions with the uni counsellors for the past month and my appointment got double-booked and actually I turned up intending to talk, then had to leave, so now I'm not sure I will be able to when I actually have the appointment next week - my defence barriers go up just thinking about it.
Maybe that's why I am writing this. I'm just fed up of being fed up.
I'm going to fail this piece of work, I don't care but I should (and I will when it really hits me), and it's probably too late to request an extension, but at the same time I don't like to do that because I feel like a fraud. I don't want to say 'by the way, I feel so miserable all the time that all I done was sleep so didn't do your work' - just sounds like a lazy students excuse, right?
And probably because I hate admitting (and not sure I ever really have directly) just how bad I feel - I appear to be officially diagnosed but still can't even bring myself to write it down. Probably because I do feel like it is some kind of excuse, because if I really wanted to do things I would just get on with them wouldn't I? It's just so hard. I feel like I have regressed to some hormonal, whiny teenager again, it's really very pathetic when I think about it. There are people who have genuine reasons to be miserable yet get on with their lives and are positive, then there is just me.
Anyway I really need to go to bed now, I'm sure I said that a few paragraphs ago - I don't even want to read back over this any more. Whoever you are, I do apologise that you have been assigned to read this. But if you have, then thanks."
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