My body haggard and worn down
My bones ache as I walk
I glare into the mirror see all the cracks the flaws
A body falling apart at the seams wrinkles on my body a face devoid of beauty
Eyes listless haunted with years of loneliness and depression
Lips pale and pallid that once were lustrous now are cracked with the ravages of time
Hair unkept with a profusion of split ends a visual metaphor of my weary fractured mind
I gaze for minutes at my saggy diminutive flat breasts I’m so unattractive so unappealing
The tired bags underneath my haunted bloodshot eyes that radiate sadness
My fingers shake with disquiet at this repulsive sight of my grotesque physical appearance
I drop to the floor unable to bare the sight of my ghostlike image as tears cascade down my face
I want to be alluring to be regarded as a enticing creature
I want perfect voluptuous breasts that catch the attention of beguiling males physical specimens
I want immaculate ivory teeth devoid of flaws
I want to be rid of this pernicious self loathing to never have this all consuming social anxiety I want to look in the mirror and not be overcome with suicidal desires
Outside my bedroom window all i see is the shadows
A melancholic scenery of autumn trees
No sign of life no colour a absence of humanity in my secluded residence
I am alone sequestered away yearning for human contact to assuage my depressed anxiety laden malaise
All alone at home with the silence that terrifies me
No noise apart from the occasional distant echo traffic
I listen to tranquillising mediative classical music to dull my senses
I pour shot after shot of potent whisky to escape my wretched forlorn reality
Then staring intensely outside my window at the nighttime panorama i shed tears
I am alone without love without friendship wanting a hug a random act of kindness to rekindle my fading humanity
I am already dead waiting to die waiting the inevitable death to end my bleak vapid existence
The loneliness of my life with my untreated depression my social anxiety is slowly poisoning
I can feel the noxious fumes corrupt corrode my lust for life
I used to have dreams to have gleaming with fantastical visions of a illustrious future now i am a sad pathetic twenty something wanting death to end this lonely desolate life i am living
Still i glare at the flickering incandescent light that flicker with life
Inside my abode there is a darkness and walls that howl with despair
My social anxiety began in the aftermath of my mothers suicide. Before that harrowing emotional scaring event at the age of 13 i was a shy introvert who could be described as socially awkward. After witnessing my mother dead body the ptsd it was the genesis of my pernicious social anxiety disorder. In the months that followed her funeral i had a bout of intense terrifying panic attacks. Panic attacks where i wasn’t fully cognisant what was happening to me at first I thought it was a heart attack with the heavy breathing the tightness in my chest. Then going out going to school socialising with my friends became a torturous undertaking as i was besieged with anxiety with the fear. Throughout my adolescence my anxiety grew more acute as i kept my disorder a secret making up excuses declining night out with friends turning down dates from males admirers.
As i progressed from a precocious teenager into a young adult this disorder has metastasised into a paralysing illness that impacts every facet of my life. Its a all consuming fear of everything a fear of the fear. A fear of any rudimentary social interaction a fear of intimacy of the crowd of going to social events with friends or family. I have forced myself to attend birthdays wedding drunken nights out with my friends to not let this monster destroy me. However attending these social gatherings was pure intense unrelenting torture. Its a fear that haunts you its the fear of being perceived as boring or a cruel look from a stranger that sends my anxiety escalating. Its the fear of another panic attack around strangers the constant fear of letting the mask slip and revealing my disorder. I am able to mitigate to anaesthetise to the social anxiety my devouring copious quantities of alcohol. I use alcohol as a anti anxiety medication to temporarily alleviate the perpetual hell of my anxiety.
The anxiety is so oppressive that i have refrained from divulging my anxiety with a friends with a qualified psychiatrist or gp. The idea of being that vulnerable delineating the years of panic attacks and anxiety fills my mind with dread. Hence i am unable to take anti anxiety medication. Even going to the doctors for a habitual check up is something i have forgo because its such a laborious task. Simple everyday mundane tasks normal socially functional individuals take for granted become with my deleterious social phobia a monumental endeavour. Venturing outside with the threat of a panic attack having cold glances from strangers having to form conversations with strangers was hell. Short 20 to 30 minute traversal to my local convenience store was torture that i had to endure for my basic survival. On this journey i suffered from heavy breathing constantly scratching my hand to assuage my anxiety. Then there’s speaking with people with the paranoia the angst that pulsates in my neurotic body. Its hell and it never ends i cant go out anymore because of the fucking anxiety that follows me that strangles my soul.
Going on a date is a impossibility that beyond my abilities. I have in the past had a few dates with alluring prospective lovers but the fear was too laborious to continue the romantic relationship. Friendships due to me abstaining from the majority of social events have slowly drifted apart. Important intimate friends have lost all contact with as they lose all patience in my anti social peculiar behaviour. They for a while persisted with me but after i stopped accepting their effusive requests for nights out all contact was lost as our beautiful friendships faded away into a sad memory.
By life as this disorder has devoured me has eclipsed all the beauty inside of me is a forlorn wretched existence. Its endless anxiety that is with me all the time even as i sit alone in the comfort in the sanctuary of my home secluded away from other people. I sit twitching incessantly shacking my legs unable to reflex unable to feel a modicum of serenity. This anxiety has given me a life of severe alienation where i am all alone in my illness unable to articulate the scale of my anxiety. I cant expose myself to the horror of the real world i cant force myself to face these nightmarish protracted social interactions. Hence i stay in my tiny enclave hoping to escape hoping to palliative my anxiety.
Living with social anxiety is detrimental to my vocational prospects. As a teenager and student i had these illusions of travelling the world as a young writer seeing new cultures that are enriching and enlightening endeavours. Now though these fantastical dreams will never be realised i still write poetry and short stories that remain unpublished works of fiction. My dreams of living a exhilarating adventurous life have vanished to be replaced by far fetched dreams of becoming a published novelist. I still harbour hopes of conquering my illness of being able to have something that resembles a life filled with ebullient people. I want to fall in love to have friends that love and cherish my company. I want the pain the isolation the fear the dread the purgatory to be over. I want to finally confess my anxiety to a doctor i yearn for a hug from a fellow anxiety suffering where we cry and console each other. I want that elation that euphoric release of this pent up suppressed pain and worry and torture I incur every day as i traverse back and forth from my place of employment.
There is a bluebird living inside of me chocking on the noxious fumes of my illness. There is a bluebird that exists in my dreams where i can freely smile laugh partake in glorious human activities without the angst. There is a bluebird that is slowly dying being crushed by the weight of my disorder a bluebird that screams at night a bluebird who’s cry’s for help go on unanswered. There is a bluebird that wants to fly through time and space that wants to feel the beauty of life in its tender wings. There is a bluebird that wants to get drunk to get high to fall in love to feel the ecstasy of life flowing circulating in its fragile body in this ethereal finite world
I wish i was beautiful
I wish I could laugh without angst
I wish i could look at myself in the mirror without seeing a ugly creature peering back at me
I wish i could socialise without being hindered by a deleterious social anxiety that is torturous
I wish i could extricate this anxiety from my body
I wish i could be cured of my depression that has a myriad of detrimental effects on my body and soul
I wish i could openly admit to friends and family the depths of my illness instead of hiding my pain my illness
I wish i was happy living a gregarious ebullient life unimpeded from my demons
I want to be comfortable in my own skin to be able to venture outside without the fear of a panic attack
I want to speak candidly with a therapist and ventilate my mental illnesses
I want to be able to partake in a date with a alluring young man without the fear the dread the constant self loathing
I want to fall in love to experience the ecstasy of physical and emotional intimacy i wish to be somebody else to feel like a human being instead of a freak who’s derided castigated by society
Trapped inside my flat my insulated enclave
Trapped inside the inhibitions of my anxiety riddled personality
The isolation the alienation of my life is slowly killing me
I look outside my dusty window and see a vast landscape a world with colour with beauty i want to experience to taste to devour
My anxiety disorder precludes me from regularly going outside
Only when its necessary such as attending my job or purchasing food at the shops
Other than that I remain ensconced in my tiny flat hidden away
Turning down requests from friends for nights out with this onerous anxiety that never abates or relents
I desire to be rid of this pernicious social anxiety
A debilitating anxiety that renders me paralysed with nervousness when I’m outside of my safety zone of my flat
I cant go out anymore hence i refrain from answering incessant messages from old friends
I hide with all the lights out not wanting to communicate with another soul that’s how horrendous the anxiety gets
I suffer from regular humiliating panic attacks when I’m in public
So I retreats further and further inwards into these protracted states of isolation
Theres initially comfort in the isolation but the loneliness is painful
I have nobody to confide with nobody to hug to kiss to feel the torture of my disorder the loneliness gets so bad I contemplate suicide
Its 8:00 am i have awoken at a ungodly early hour on a clement august Saturday in my old bed in my old house on this supposedly momentous day. Its the day of my fathers wedding day his second wedding nearly 10 years since the traumatic suicide of my mum. 10 years ago my mum killed herself in this same house me and daddy discovered her hanging from a light fixture in the living room. I can still smell the pungent odour of death and despair in our haunted living room.
Today though is a happy joyous occasion for my father or daddy as i affectingly call him. Its a ecstatic day for daddy who after years of withering away in loneliness after years of being stricken with grief has found love. I am happy for him though my fractured neurotic mind is permeated with negative emotions. For weeks months years I’ve been severely depressed to the point of seriously contemplating suicide. I decided in my self indulgent self obsessed mind to kill myself approximately several weeks proceeding this wedding. I don’t want to infringe or in any way despoil daddy’s happiness. Today is also on top of the severe suicidal depression this wedding day for months and weeks has been filling me with panic inducing anxiety. I am cursed with a untreated social anxiety disorder which means i eschew public events such as wedding birthdays or the majority of social functions in favour of being alone in the enclave of my humble abode. Hence this wedding has been giving me vexation for weeks i cant forgo attending my fathers second wedding what will family and friends say. I have to hide my anxiety my melancholic proclivities for an entire day and hope and pray that I don’t suffer a harrowing panic attack. Fortunately I haven’t been asked to speak in the post wedding reception so that relive is alleviating my anxiety.
Laying horizontal nervously tucked inside my old black gothic duvet covers not wanting to vamoose from the cosy warmth of old duvet. Last night I slept maybe an hour of sleep that’s all the acute anxiety that’s been building up for weeks reached a fever pitch last night as I became cognisant of the torture of attending a wedding. A day of unrelenting anxiety having awkward conversations with distant relations having to hide my sadness my deleterious anxiety. Last night my hands were shacking furiously i kept tapping my fingers against the palm of my hands then scratching my legs in a peculiar manner to soothe my stress. Totally unable to fall asleep just being asphyxiated with worry with the fear of a panic attack. I don’t want to reveal my social phobia its why i have reluctantly attended this wedding. I am elated at my father finding love in his early 50’s i want him to live a long happy enriching existence the kind of life i will never experience. However the joy is negated by the tsunami of dysphoria and angst that circulating in my impaired consciousness.
I hear the distant echoes of my father his best man his life long friend Stephen getting ready for the wedding. Stephen stayed last night we got drunk together until we decided to retire to our bedrooms around midnight. Last night drinking beer with my daddy and his old friend was a pleasant experience to reconnect with my daddy and a childhood family friends with the euphoria of alcohol. Today though I’m going to be suffocated with a assortment of humans its going to be pure hell a day trapped in purgatory. I gaze intensely at the familiar surroundings of my old room with my single bed childhood bed. This room hasn’t been transformed into a office daddy has preserved it perfectly. Has quiet sentimental character meant he diligently preserved my room as a memento of my childhood. The posters of my favourite bands and literary heroes were decorated throughout my room. Posters of joy division, Kate Bush Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath were plastered over the magnolia painted walls. I stared for hours at these posters with melancholic eyes on this celebration of the scared institution of marriage and love.
Travelling back to my hometown staying in my suburban house spending extensive time with my father hasn’t dissuaded me from my plan to kill myself. The wedding though has delayed the inevitable suicide none of the exaltation of love would persuade me to stay alive i want death I want to end the torture of being a twenty something being afflicted with depression. In my pink silky jimjams with my legs shacking vehemently i am now ready to get out off my old single bed.
With trepidation I remove the black pristine duvet now i sit upright on the edge of my bed. Spending at least half an hour perusing my phone looking at my twitter feed needing a temporary distraction. I watch an array of entertaining videos on YouTube to distract me from the nightmare of attending a wedding. Putting down my distraction device i use as a crutch when I’m trapped in uncomfortable unfamiliar terrifying social scenarios. I stand on my two hind legs and make my bed making sure my bed looks immaculate. This learned fastidious habit is a way of abating the dysmorphia the restlessness of my abnormal personality. Then after several minutes of assiduously making my bed i saunter over to the vacant bathroom to brush my unsightly teeth and wash my pallid face. Before i venture downstairs to eat a paltry breakfast meal if i can handle eating with a million thoughts pulsating round my emaciated body. I brush wearily with my new fangled electric toothbrush. All the while averting my gaze from the dreaded unforgiving bathroom mirror. Then i wash my face by applying a soaked flannel to my face. This act washes away the cobwebs from my mind i feel fully awake before i apply a exfoliant that removes the grease the muck the scum from my visage. I wash again as my face is tingling as its revitalised after another sleepless night. Now i can venture downstairs to confabulate with my daddy and his best man whilst satiating our appetites with toast and coffee.
I’m not here I’m already dead
I meander aimlessly through life floating like a ghost
Nobody looks at me pays a modicum of attention to me
Am I alive am a phantom is there blood in my veins
I feel numb devoid of vitality no colour in my pallid complexion
I have stopped smiling stop exhibiting any emotion
My ghost face never breaks no emotion is portrayed in my haunted visage
Soon in the next few weeks i will hopefully become a ghost become a distant lamentable memory
I never go out anymore other to traverse back and forth from my employment
I stay ensconced in my flat never answer the phone
The curtains remain closed no sunlight no radiating beams of light enter my residence
I float in my flat like a dead soul wanting the sweet blissful release of death
I’m not anywhere i am lost in the limbo
My only dreams are to drift away to die
My eyes are screaming for this harrowing ordeal of life to be over
I am a ghost a mute emotionless subhuman creature waiting for my forlorn desolate languid life to be over
No soul hears my departed screams of emotional torment
No one cares i am already dead waiting patiently for my final day
Suicide I’d beckoning me i want it so badly to become nothing to be worms food