Tag Archives: loneliness

My brain hates me

So last night, I had a dream (as do most people).  And to anybody who is in the same area code as normal, the dream would probably have been pleasant, although confusing to many.  Me?  I woke up more depressed than I have been in a very long time.  In fact, I started crying three times on the drive to work, that’s how bad I felt.


You need to know a couple of things about me for this to make any sense at all:


  • I have had a grand total of one sort-of girlfriend in my life.  This was back in high school.  Since then (30+ years): nothing.  Because…
  • I’ve been shy all my life.  But, ever since the end of my first year in college, it has been much, much worse.  I describe myself as “pathologically shy”, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if I appeared somewhere on the social anxiety scale.  Because of this, I have an almost impossible time getting to know people.  I don’t do well in crowds of strangers.
  • And, not to put too fine a point on it, I hate myself.  I hate the way I look, I have no confidence in myself, and most times, I feel like I don’t deserve anything good.

So, on to the dream.


I dreamed that I was in a large office–something much bigger than where I work now, basically a cubicle farm.  Two beautiful ladies (because everybody in TV, movies, books and dreams are beautiful, aren’t they?) in the office whom I worked with found out how shy I am and began to help me to come out of my shell and meet people.  They would role-play with me, talk with me, take me out into social situations and so on.  This went on for months.  And of course, it being a dream and me being male, it went further, but I don’t need to get into that.


Sounds pleasant, no?  Sounds helpful and maybe even hopeful?


The effect it had on me was to remind me how lonely I have been for all of these years.  (Dammit, here I go again.)  It makes me think about all the things (good and bad) that I have missed out on by not having someone in my life.  It reminds me how disconnected I am from the everyday world.  It has made me feel like a giant failure–which is a feeling that is usually reserved only for December.


I should probably talk to somebody about these feelings (cuz I sure as hell can’t close the door at work so that I can cry in peace), but because I live in Murica, I have a health insurance plan that my employer and I pay almost $400 a month for that pays for approximately jack shit, so I cannot afford to seek help.  Besides, I live in a cow town and I’m not sure if there even are counselors close by.  And, because of the shyness (social anxiety, whatever you want to call it), I have no close friends in the area that I can talk to.  I could talk to my mom, but she’s got enough on her plate.  All I can do is swallow it all, take my pills, write my feelings down in a blog that nobody reads and pretend that everything is okay.  I can’t talk about it on Facebook or Twitter because I have learned that nobody wants to hear from me when I’m down, so I put up my coded phrase on both of those saying “Hi!  Everything’s great!” and I’m just going to disappear for a while.  And, when I last looked, it appears I have completely fooled four people (they “liked” my post on Facebook)–including my mom, which makes me feel even worse.


This is my scream for help into the darkness that nobody will hear.

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Please let me die tonight

I have a simple request of whatever is in charge: please let me die tonight.

Today started out okay.  Then it got bad.  Then it got worse.  Finally, it ended up as pretty much of a horror show.

I’ve deactivated my Facebook account just in case (which is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, anyway–too much of a time suck plus I found myself getting angry every time I logged on and read posts).

So can a guy get one break?  Please let me die tonight.

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I had been hoping to write in here more frequently than once a week or so, but so far that isn’t working out.  I think my problem is lack of motivation.

As I’ve chronicled, I haven’t posted on Facebook in probably two months, nor have I tweeted for about a month and a half.  I find that nobody has noticed me missing.  That isn’t (or at least shouldn’t be) my prime reason for posting, but I do find it drains my motivation to put myself out anywhere.  I think about posting here and then quickly talk myself out of it, saying “why bother to expend the energy?”

The other, and perhaps more disturbing, thoughts that have crept into my psyche revolve around completely withdrawing from the world.  I’ve already stopped Facebook and Twitter, I’m not posting much in here.  One of my goals for this year was to try to get out more and meet people, but I’m thinking about stopping that, too (not that I’ve done a whole lot of that, anyway).  Just become a hermit.  I think I could do it and have nobody miss me.

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Port 22 – Secure Shell

I have been off Facebook for four weeks now (except for playing games and sometimes sending stuff to other people).  Nobody has sent a message asking if I’m okay.

I have been off Twitter for about two and a half weeks.  Nobody has sent a message asking if I’m okay.

I’m still checking emails, but nobody has sent a message there, either.

Intellectually, I know that people didn’t respond to my Facebook posts or tweets because they are busy and (especially given that most people I know on either or both have much bigger circles than I do) either didn’t see my post or just don’t have time to respond.

But in my screwed-up head, the demons run amok.  “The reason they don’t respond is because they haven’t noticed your gone.  You’re not that important.  They don’t care about you.”

With the demons in control, I find that I am retreating from society.  I still go bowling, I still talk to my teammates, I still talk to the people at work in our meetings.  But at the beginning of the year, I had resolved to try to start getting out more.  And I didn’t feel as anxious as I have in the past.  But I feel as though I am rebuilding the shell that I built around myself after Stony Brook in 1986.  It took twenty years to even begin to break out of that shell, and I don’t really want to go back there.

But if I go back into my shell, then maybe the apathy won’t hurt as much.


NOTE ON THE TITLE: I have been studying for a computer networking certification for about six weeks now.  Any further explanation would bore you to tears (if anybody’s reading this).

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