erased

Somewhere along the line, I was erased. Gwyneth Lewis describes depression as a murder mystery, where you are both the victim and the detective. I can't figure out what did me in. My own cowardice, I suppose. My own fear of LIFE. Go figure. The life I've been afraid to live is the reason I no longer have any life at all. I'm nothing, nobody to anybody, not even to myself. I don't recognize myself any more. It's like I'm a ghost, moving through the world but never actually having an impact in it. Invisible.

I don't understand anything. I really don't understand people. Basic interactions confuse me. I never know the right thing to say or do. I can't react to a lot of things; I just don't know how, so I freeze while my mind runs through the possibilities. What do I do now? Smile? Apologize? Laugh? Wave? Say hello? Turn and walk away? Write a letter or make a phone call? I never know what to do or when to do it. I have absolutely no understanding of social conventions, no idea how to approach other people, no idea how to have a casual conversation. It's weird. My father can charm absolutely anybody; he's one of those guys everybody likes, even if he doesn't particularly like them. My mother commands respect as soon as she walks into a room. She's tough, self-assured. And me, the child of these two highly personable people, I'm so befuddled and terrified of social interaction that I have allowed myself to be erased rather than make small-talk in the hallway before a class. The child of two self-made people who have known and overcome a lot of pain, suffering and hard work, is afflicted with a mental illness that makes it a trial just to take basic care of myself.

I am my own victim, in the long run. Everything I do is dominated by fear. I hide myself away. I miss out on things I might enjoy for fear there's the tiniest chance I'll embarrass myself/feel awkward/be rejected. I have created my own loneliness, and from that has stemmed my depression. There's no one to blame but myself. And I can talk about wanting it gone, I can rail against it and swear I'm going to change, but there's no changing the instinct to remain alone. Maybe loneliness breeds loneliness -- it certainly does in my case. I don't fit in anywhere, never have. I've always been on the fringe of everybody else's worlds. I've never really created my own. I wouldn't know how to start. If I went missing, nobody would notice until my parents tried to make their weekly phone call and I didn't pick up. It's so unbelievably depressing and I wish I could change it but I have no idea where to start. I've tried. I've been trying for three years. Not hard enough, probably. I'm not strong enough to face my own fears. I admire the people who do, but I've never been one of them. If I have to choose between fight or flight, I will always pick flight, absolutely every time. Flight into nothingness. Flight into being a ghost. If you're a ghost, nothing can touch you. You can't be hurt. You can't LIVE, but you can't be hurt. Somehow I haven't been able to convince myself that the potential for joy outweighs the potential for pain. Rationally, I know that, but then I wouldn't be in this position if I were rational at all.

(((((Rebecca))))) I can really relate to what you are saying here. I grew up in an extremely abusive home. I was rarely allowed to have friends over, or attend school dances and parties, or date, etc. Also, being noticed by anyone in my family was never a good thing, so I tried my best to be as invisible as possible, and my only real focus was staying alive until I was of legal age and could leave without fearing reprisal. So, when I first got out of that house, I really didn't have any social skills either - I always felt awkward and out of place around others - wasn't good a small talk - all of my childhood friends and classmates told me that I was "too different," and I've heard it throughout my adulthood, as well.

When I left home at 18, I moved into the dorms at the university then later on into an apartment with 3 other girls that I had grown up with - it was extremely uncomfortable for me - I wasn't used to interacting with others or being "noticed." One night my roommates had a party at our apartment - there were a lot of people there and I knew very few of them. I was sitting on the floor with my back to the wall observing everyone literally frozen with fear just wanting to disappear, escape - couldn't breathe, couldn't swallow, couldn't speak, couldn't move afraid that I would say or do something to embarrass myself in front of all those people. I felt like everyone must have gotten the "rule book" except me because I just didn't understand how they all knew how to interact with others so easily.

I was looking around the room and noticed a girl sitting in a chair on the other side of the room from me; when I saw the expression on her face and noticed the way she was sitting, it was like looking in a mirror - she looked like how I felt and was absolutely terrified and frozen, too. I knew what agony I was in and realized that she was probably in the same agony and my heart just broke for her because I didn't want anyone to ever feel like I did. I looked at the floor and counted how many steps I would have to take to get to the other side of the room. I took a deep breath, stood up, and crossed the room keeping my gaze riveted on her and blocking out everyone around me - I didn't want to know if anyone noticed me - I made them invisible. I sat down on the arm of the girl's chair and choked out the words, "Hi, I'm Lynn. What's your name?" I was in a full-blown anxiety attack - heart pounding, dizzy, ears ringing, lungs collapsing. The look on her face was first shock then relief as the terror in her eyes disappeared.

She smiled, told me her name, said she didn't really know anyone there very well, wasn't good at interacting socially, was so relieved that someone had finally spoken to her because she just could not initiate a conversation with people she didn't know and had been paralyzed and frozen to that chair ever since she arrived. My anxiety was relieved a bit, but I was still panicked about what to say - so I turned my focus completely on her - on how to make her feel welcome and comfortable then just got her to continue talking about herself.

This was and still is the KEY, Rebecca - I concentrated on doing for her the things I knew would make me feel at ease - the things that I wished others would do to make me feel welcome and comfortable - acknowledged her presence, showed a genuine interest in her as a person, listened to what she had to say, etc. I became less and less self-conscious (less aware of myself; less focused on myself) because I didn't have to think of something to say - all I had to do was listen - I just asked her questions and as she answered, my mind came up with other questions and comments in response. Eventually we even talked about our mutual "social phobia" problem and had a good laugh at ourselves.

That was the beginning - that's when my perspective began to change - instead of worrying about fitting in "everybody else's world," I began focusing on whether or not others fit in my world - and that's what began to create my world - focusing more on who I choose to be. You speak of your cowardice, being dominated by fear, not strong enough to face your fears - but the strength and courage to face your fears and free yourself from fear's domination is only developed by facing your fears a little at a time - just like exercising a muscle - repeatedly exposing the muscle to the stress of exercise. Each time you face a fear you become a little stronger, a little more courageous, and better able to confront and conquer the next fear. This doesn't happen overnight - it's a process.

Among human beings, there are more similarities than differences; i.e., those of us with mental illnesses have pretty much the same emotional needs as everyone else - differing in degree, but not in kind. You can be relatively certain that there are many other people experiencing similar emotions, self-doubts, needs, etc., as you. Just treat other people the way you want others to treat you - be kind, respectful, considerate, compassionate, patient - be a good listener - be interested in them - be more focused on them than yourself. Think about what questions you would want others to ask you, then ask others those same questions about them. The only way to understand social conventions is by repeatedly engaging in social interactions. Knowing the right thing to say or do is a skill that is learned through observation and participation, and refined through practice.

You say that "If you're a ghost, nothing can touch you. You can't be hurt;" and "I haven't been able to convince myself that the potential for joy outweighs the potential for pain." In social interactions, there is always the risk of pain, as well as the potential for joy; but by fleeing, hiding, and isolating yourself, there is a 100% chance of perpetually inflicting the pain of loneliness on yourself, and absolutely no chance at all for joy.

Hopefully, something here can make it easier for you to find a place to start. I think you'll find out that you're stronger than you know. lynn09

(((((((((justfloating)))))))
I can relate to a lot of what you have written and to some extent still do so many years later. In my case I turned to alcohol which was a huge mistake.
I think you got a great response from Lynn, actually think it is one of the best I have seen here. I wish someone had told me those things when I was your age, maybe it would have made a big difference in my life.
Nothing to add except Lynn's advice is great

Lynn - amazing post, thank you for it



Rebecca, sending hugs. I feel like that some of the time as well

Rebecca, you can start by reading this article again: http://psychcentral.com/lib/2009/15-...e-distortions/

Then this: http://www.4therapy.com/consumer/con...+Love+Yourself

Love yourself. Be your own champion. You know loving yourself more is a key for you. Do it. You know that twaddle you posted is not true. Love yourself. Do it!

Lynn09...
This is by far the most amazing reply to this thread ~ erased ~ and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for it.
You hit me square in my brain with it.
May I use it to give to a friend who needs to see it too? Awesome advice .. great wisdom ... thanks so much
Insignificant other

(((((Rebecca))))) How are you doing today? Please post and let us know how you are feeling and what we can do to further support you. lynn09

(((((Insignificant other))))) If you feel my words can be of help to anyone, you are welcome to share them.lynn09

Your post was beautifully written, Rebecca - so that's something you can do well, and is maybe a starting point for conversation with others?

I think a lot of people, whether they have had any mental health problems or not, would relate to what you wrote. I have always felt socially awkward and although I've always had friends, as a child I would always have a few days out playing and then a few days where I needed to be on my own. I've never been able to have a wide circle of friends but have been happier with a few close friends; and having moved around a fair bit, I know there are "circumstantial" friends and kindred spirits - you hang onto the kindred spirits but not the others as you move through life.

I would say, though, that over the last few years, I have found "small talk" getting easier - perhaps that's partly just getting older, and partly having had therapy over the past couple of years - I've got more used to talking about myself, and from that I think I am beginning to find it easier to ask people about their lives too. It does take practice, as Lynn said, and it can be hard to make yourself reach out. One thing that I found helpful was going to a group of people pre- and post-hospital discharge - so I knew they wouldn't be judging me for any social awkwardness, and that made it easier to start practising being sociable again. Is there anything like that you'd be comfortable going to?

Lynn, your reply was great - thank you.

We have to learn to be our own best friends because we fall too easily into the trap of being our own worst enemies. ~Roderick Thorp, Rainbow Drive

(((((((((((everyone))))))))))))


Thanks for all your great responses. I've been doing some thinking about all of it. Can't say I've come up with too much except that I'm taking a slightly more positive view of things now, and I have you all to thank for it.

((((((lynn09)))))) Thank you so much for sharing in your post, I really appreciate it. It's good to know somebody else has experienced the same terror and confusion as me. Knowing that someone else managed to face up to it makes me realize it's not something insurmountable.

I'm trying to remain hopeful and I'm going to work hard on breaking through this paralysis. You're right. The more I hide, the more I'm only hurting myself. I need to remind myself f that more often. I've faced all kinds of degrees of this paralysis in my life, whether it comes on from fear, self-loathing, depression, exhaustion ... I'm slowly figuring out how to just FORCE myself to do the things I feel physically incapable of doing, from getting out of bed to doing my homework to saying hello to someone in class. It's hard and I can only do it in baby steps, but every time I get myself to do something that 30 seconds earlier I was convinced was absolutely impossible, I see a little more of my own strength. I guess the hardest part is remembering that that strength is there at all.

(((((( Rebecca ))))))

Love yourself. Be well.

((((((((Justfloating))))))))


You are so wonderful.

(((((Rebecca))))) So glad you're feeling better. You're right - it is hard and takes time to work out what techniques and inner dialogue work best for you, but it is worth the effort. lynn09