It is a cool July evening as i survey outside my bedroom window a breathtakingly beautiful psychedelic sunset. The cool breeze hits my weary face with a sadness as this is the last time i will witness a awe inspiring sunset. The last time i will be witness to a glorious illustration of the unblemished beauty of nature through the skyline in the heat of summer. The once sweltering July heat has cooled off to a tranquil pleasant temperature as the light breezes hits my ravaged face. I stare outside my window for hours just observing the change for day into night. I hear an array of the sounds of nature birds are tweeting with the seductive bird song. I hear the distant echoes of humans enjoying each other’s company. I complement the melancholic but serene ambience with the sad piano music of Chopin. Sporadic tears stream down my face as i complement the destructive actions i have been planing for weeks. Right now I’m realising that this is the last night on earth that if I successfully terminate my life ill never see a sunset or hear all the transcendental sound of nature that emanate out of my secluded bedroom window.
I intensively stare at the iridescent sunset its like my short life that will soon end. As the evening transforms into the darkness of night i close the windows and retreat into the desolation of my room. My empty room a visual metaphor of my damaged empty soul with the void of colour no light no life in here. I have prepared my room for my final YouTube video that will be broadcasted life on my channel where i expound on my battle with mental illness. I have set up the camera prepared the clothing the music the dolorous atmosphere I have engendered for this my swan song. My last act as a human being unable to carry living in a cold inhospitable land where humans beings are so indifferent to each other.
I sit restlessly on the edge of my bed wearing a nirvana T-shirt and haggard denim jeans. There is no question i will kill myself tonight i my failing YouTube channel that nobody watches. I hope that in a desperate act my life will gain some relevance some meaning.
I am 23 living as a copy writer and editor for a moderately successful publishing house in the town of Cambridge. I graduated successfully from Cambridge university with a degree in English literature was able despite my social anxiety to navigate the vexing world of higher education. However as I progressed my social anxiety grew more severe. The panic attacks became more frequent and increasingly harrowing. I struggled to survive in the outside world found socialising almost impossible did though maintain a select tribe of friends. Romantic relationships become impossible due to the severity of my anxiety my untreated depression and my propensity to remain inside my house. As my university education progressed the depression also exacerbated as I refused to seek professional help or confide with a confidant about my melancholic state of mind.
Throughout my 3 year education at Cambridge I kept my mental afflictions a secret never speaking to anybody putting on a veneer of sanity to mask the pain of being me. My only avenue of self expression was my poorly received YouTube channel. A channel where I disguised my homely appearance with a venetian mask as i delineated in 20 minute to an hour videos my weekly ordeal of being afflicted with anxiety with severe suicidal depression and suffering from a acute body dysmorphia.
I hoped these videos would alleviate my pain that they would act as virtual group therapy sessions. Where the camera the audience would be my fellow patients who reciprocated my pain. These videos as they progressed didn’t go viral as I envisioned they mostly received less than a 1,000 views gaining no traction on YouTube. My mental conditions i was elucidating on didn’t improve it gave me a brief moment of emotional catharsis but the suicidal predilections remained. I continued to suffer from habitual panic attacks the anxiety I experienced intensified as going out with my friends or on a date became intolerable with this torturous anxiety.
After I graduated somehow with a degree in English literature i was able with my prestigious education to get a job firstly as a copy writer and as a editor at a local publishing house. I relocated from my student shared accommodation to a 1 bedroomed modest flat in the centre of Cambridge. Forgoing moving to a new town or in London not wanting the stress that would entail from moving. I stayed in this quaint middle class town that let me live a sad empty withdrawn life. The months years after i left my university maintaining my collection of friendships I cultivated at Cambridge. Occasionally going on weekend getaways to luxurious Europeans cities or to musical festivals. My anxiety would abate around the comforting warm company of my friend i was able to function in spite of the severity of my social anxiety.
My post university life was that of a recluse who sporadically venture outside the safe enclave of my flat to meet up with friends or brave the nightmare of a romantic date. In that time I carried grandiose dreams of becoming a lauded writer of prose and verse. These dreams to this day remain unfulfilled in reality i am a poor writer who lacks the courage the imagination the discipline to succeed in the literary realm. My side project of weekly online videos was as equally as unsuccessfully and poorly received. I never became a online creator who’s eloquent illustration of being young alienated with mental health attracted millions of views millions of adoring subscribers.
Every weekly in a video diary i would pour out my soul allow myself for once in the venue of YouTube to be vulnerable to reveal the turmoil of my depression. I have talked about my anxiety painful attacks self harm contemplating suicide in these selection of videos on my channel. Virtual nobody has seen these videos i am screaming into the abyss having nobody share or care about my pain. I am a lost soul preparing my body and soul for a final desperate deleterious act where hopefully i will gain a modicum of prominence in death.