Self-absorbed whining

January 26, 2007 at 5:26 pm 4 comments

The room is cold and has been like this for several months.
If I close my eyes I can visualise everything in it right down
Right down to the broken handle on the third drawer down of the dressing table.
And the world outside this room has also assumed a familiar shape
The same events stuffed in a slightly different order each day.
Just like a modern shopping centre.
    —Pulp, F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E

Today’s been hard. Hell, today’s being hard. I’ve been reading an annotated version of my favourite novel, but it’s hard to concentrate, so I’ve given up for now. The minutes and hours crawl by. I saw my debt advisor down at the Citizen’s Advice Bureau. Later, I remembered that when I saw the psychiatrist I was trying to recall which college my ex, Emma went to. So I looked up her myspace profile.

If we define ourselves by comparison to the people we know, then how can I see myself as anything but a failure? I’ve never been religious, but in my crazy, fucked-up way, I hoped there was a plan. I hoped there was a good reason why my life was heading so far away from the places I wished it could be. I don’t have the faith left to think like that any more. I used to think I was clever. Looking at the emptiness of my life, the desolation of my dreams; how can I be clever when I have allowed this to happen?

Being alive hurts. Inhabiting this empty carapace of hope, what’s the point in that? It’s a Friday night and I should be thinking about going out. Being with people. Meeting others. Talking to interesting strangers. Instead I’m sitting here in my room, alone. And the irony is that even if I did go out I’d probably hate it. I’d talk to nobody I didn’t know already.

I don’t want to be like this any more. And the only way I know how to stop being like this is to die. Which I can’t do yet. I’ve still got to see if the medical professionals can actually do anything. I have 1.15g of sertraline here, which I’m tempted to take, not because it’s likely to kill me (it’s not), but it’d at least pass the time. But in the end, it’d only make the doctors more wary of prescribing things. It’s not like it’d achieve anything (but then what does?)

I miss that sense of falling uncontrollably that I used to get when I was down. It wasn’t any more enjoyable, but it was better than the feeling of unchanging, empty stasis that I have these days. I’m full of sadness and decay and misery. I’m no fun at all.

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4 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Tom Dandy  |  January 26, 2007 at 5:48 pm

    Well, at least your misery makes an entertaining read.
    -Tom Dandy

  • 2. experimental chimp  |  January 26, 2007 at 6:30 pm

    Ah, so it has some use then.

  • 3. Corinne  |  May 24, 2008 at 4:03 pm

    Hasnt sertraline helped atall.ive read so much about it im now terrified to take it

  • 4. experimental chimp  |  May 24, 2008 at 4:13 pm

    Hi Corrine. Sertraline definitely didn’t help me. I was only on it for a week and the side effects were awful. I’ve since been diagnosed as bipolar, though, so all SSRI’s tend to do bad things to me.

    There’s a lot of negative information about SSRI’s on the internet. Partly this is because the manufacturers have downplayed some of the more serious side effects, but it’s also because people tend to talk about medications more when they don’t work or cause problems. There’s definitely lots of people who take sertraline without any problems and find it works for them. They’re just not so loud as people who’ve had problems.

    For me, the important question would be: Do I trust the person prescribing this drug to me? Will they respond positively to any concerns or problems I have or dismiss them? What’s the plan if this medication doesn’t work?

    If your depression is mild or moderate, you might want to talk to your doctor about trying therapy first (if you haven’t already).

    Good luck, with it anyway.

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Hi, I'm James. I'm a 26 year old guy from England with bipolar disorder (currently well controlled). I also have a circadian rhythm sleep disorder (not so well controlled). This blog has charted my journey from mental illness, through diagnosis and, recently, into recovery. It's not always easy, but then, what is?

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As of 12th September 2008 it has been forty five weeks since I quit smoking. So in another seven weeks it'll have been a whole year.

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