1066 All Stars

A few months ago I decided to start a new blog series, exploring the roots of my mental health issues. I would work backwards through my life, picking out the key instances and exploring them in more detail. After completing the first part, I moved on, both distracted by other pursuits and having little desire to go over redundancy and parenting again.

With my recent experience of CBT, a desire to explore the underlying causes of my behaviour once again presents itself. This time though I want to start at the beginning. This will be a difficult blog to write, I will be covering areas that I have, deliberately, never covered before. I cannot promise how well it will be written but it will be raw, open and honest. 

But first, let's deal with the present day.

Confide In Me

It can be difficult deciding to confide in another person. Will they understand? Will they laugh? Will they cry? To some extent I have been so open that there is little left to confide. I have suffered from depression and anxiety. I have deep rooted self esteem issues. I spent three months at the Priory Hospital receiving treatment and I am currently seeing a CBT therapist. These things are known.

But no matter how openly I have blogged, there remain details that I omit. I tend towards writing in broad, brush strokes, leaving out the specifics, the mundane, the daily flare ups that no one else sees that drive my thoughts, feelings and behaviours. Often they are internalised, sometimes they involve others.

This week I took the step of confiding in a friend. I was scared and I was nervous. It was both a difficult and embarrassing conversation and after, I felt both relief and guilt; relief that I had shared the burden; guilt that I had found it necessary to do so in the first place. And I felt ashamed too, of how I had acted and what I had thought.

The irony is that, in hindsight, the issues were trivial. There was no shocking revelation, no earth shattering reveal. Instead, it was a step-by-step walkthrough of just how deep my self confidence issues go with some very specific examples of how they cause me to think and act. A fundamental sense of inferiority drives the feeling that I am not good enough. In turn, I often find myself feeling isolated and lonely, despite being surrounded by people. Pinpointing individual events, I explained how I interpreted them, how they became 'evidence' in my quest to prove the theory that I wasn't popular, wasn't needed and wasn't wanted. I had ranked myself and come in last place, competing in a race in which I was the only entrant. 

The question remains, why do I feel this way? Our discussion hit on a sound metaphor, looking at friendships as the pillars of our life. In years past, my pillars consisted of family, friends, work and, bizarrely, Football Manager. Each pillar would grow or shrink depending on circumstances but as I approached my time at the Priory, the work pillar dwarfed them all, unbalancing the whole structure.

Post therapy, I find two of my pillars have changed. The Football Manager pillar was removed by choice whilst the work pillar has reduced to normal size. But in so doing, I have created a gap that needs to be filled.

Work accounted for so much of my time and energy that, Football Manager aside, I had little interest in anything else. It defined me and gave me a sense of purpose. With that crutch removed, a new pillar needed to take its place and so for the first time in many years, I sought to put work on the backburner and focus on inter-personal relationships. But to my surprise, an underlying issue had not been resolved. Work was an unfaithful mistress that I thought was giving me something I needed whilst secretly cheating on me behind my back. And so although I didn't know it at the time, I found myself seeking something that I felt I lacked and needed; validation.

And this is the fundamental root cause of my mental health issues. Validation. The idea that my sense of value and worth comes not from within but from others. Add in underlying anxiety issues and you have a toxic stew. Feeling inadequate in myself, I seek approval from others whilst at the same time anxiety causes a hyper-stimulation so that I become over sensitive to the normal ebb and flow of life. Had a crossed word? That person hates me and therefore I'm no good. A friend laughed at someone else's joke? They're funny, I'm not and they like them more than me which means I am no good. Judgement had already been passed, the case was closed; no matter what evidence I produced, I was guilty as charged.

The ludicrousness of it all is that I have friends, I have family and I have a wife and children. I can't be all that bad. So why is this not enough? Why do I still seek validation when I have surely received it? Partly it is circumstantial. It is a point I have made a few times recenlty but, outside of family (who live miles away, a point not to be dismissed), I have always had a very small circle of close, long-term friends; the best man from home; the multi-time flatmate; the special lady in Wales; and of course my best friend, who I was lucky enough to marry. At last, I am making new friendships, ones that I value as much as the existing circle. Even still, I have made my world extremely small, an island that goes largely unnoticed. And even if seen, I remain doubtful that anyone would want to stay. I want to reach out and extend my circle but I am frightened of being rejected.

Add to this therapy. It was a truly life altering experience but it comes with a price to be paid. I spent years suppressing, ignoring or flat out not feeling emotions. I was arrogant, dismissive and cold before anxiety took over and crippled me. Therapy was, in part, a reprogramming of the mind. Coming out of the other side, I find myself experiencing life in a different way. I feel empathy, compassion and kindness. But I don't always know what to do with these emotions and how to express them. I feel I am a much softer person than I used to be, undoubtedly in part because of the children, but I am also more vulnerable. For the most part the mask stays in place, lest someone discover the real me. I want to let people in but I convince myself they don't want to come.

I find myself at the edge of my known world, the ocean of doubt stretching away in front of me, the distant lands of happiness, fulfilment and inclusion on the horizon. I want to set sail and yet I am afraid in case the boat sinks or I am thrown overboard. These are my first tentative steps into a brave new world, one that I hope to make rather bigger than the old.

Sharing our inner most thoughts and feelings with others can be frightening. I consider myself blessed to have people in my life who want to listen.

Still To Come

Phew, that was a rather longer opening post than I expected so let's end this piece here and I'll break the rest into different posts. Coming up;

• Chunk
• Arrogant
• All By Myself
• University Challenged
• Closer Than Close
• The Other Karen
• Here Come The Girls
• I Do
• Dare To Risk It All

Following my second session of CBT, a chance to take stock what what I have learned and what I hope to achieve.

Firstly though, let's address a couple of important issues.

What Is CBT?

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is a treatment designed to address the thoughts and feelings that drive our behaviours. It works on the basis that if we can change how we think and feel about a situation or an event, then we can change our behaviour accordingly, which each being intertwined.

For depression and anxiety, this means addressing deeply held belief systems and tackling negative automatic thoughts to see things with a more balanced perspective.

The Difference Between Counselling and CBT

Both can be useful treatments and indeed I have benefitted from the services of each.

In short, counselling is a talking therapy that offers a chance to find support and share problems with a skilled listener who can offer some direction in resolving problems.

CBT on the other hand is a targeted form of therapy used to tackle more deep rooted issues where simply unburdening oneself of the problem is insufficient. By seeking to understand, address and change thoughts, feelings and behaviours, the patient is challenged to take control of their recovery, effectively becoming their own therapist as they develop the coping skills needed.

What's The Problem?

As I have detailed extensively, my mental health issues relate to depression and anxiety. As my sense of being unable to cope winds up, so my mood winds down, a tag team of torment.

Whilst I had a broad understanding of where the underlying causes of my symptoms lay, the reasons are myriad and require some untangling. Primarily my issues relate to confidence and self esteem, or rather the absence thereof. A deeply held sense of inadequacy permeates my thoughts, in turn fueling my feelings and as a consequence directing my actions.

Week one focused primarily on work and my relationships within. Three years on, there remains a a looming shadow of my redundancy, a monkey that I have been unable to shake from my back. The loss of status, responsibility and familiarity continues to weigh heavily upon me. Despite making new friends and acquaintances, I retain a sense of being on the outside looking in. My world feels inherently smaller than it was. I lack the confidence to act in a way I consider true to myself, instead reigning myself in. I want more but when presented with an opportunity to do so, was so overwhelmed that I was forced to retreat, further reinforcing the sense that I am not capable. I wonder why I am less than I was before and how I could ever hope to get back there.

Week two turned towards family. Having children (not to mention being married to the most beautiful woman in the world) is undoubtedly a blessing and yet I must also acknowledge that my children are the single biggest source of my anxiety. I feel tired and quick to lose my temper, constantly questioning my conduct and abilities as a father and husband. I look to my brother, so full of energy and fun and wonder why I am not able to embrace parenthood in the same way. 

Thought Record

As CBT fouces on thoughts, part of my 'homework' has been completing a Thought Record. These are designed to help you recognise negative automatic thoughts, those skewed, unbalanced thoughts that pop into your head uninvited, and learn to challenge them. Below is an example from this week;

It is worth remembering that thoughts are very much like clouds that drift into our minds and can drift back out again just as quickly. A thought or feeling, however intense within the moment, can be gone the next. This is not to undermine their importance, rather to draw attention to the fact that all things pass.

With that said, let's take a look at this example in more detail, which expands on the work related anxieties I touched on above. Within the moment, I began to feel isolated from the team, which served to reinforce the underlying belief, borne out of a lack of self esteem, that I was not truly valued and that it would not matter if I wasn't there. As the score of 10 suggests, within the moment I believed this thought intensely, which made me feel incredbibly sad, a recurring theme that I will come back to.

But let's look at this though a different lense, challenge the thought. When I choose to engage, my involvement is valued. I have made friends and built relationships within the team. Do I feel isolated because I have been left out or because I am excluding myself? Sure, my desk position is physically on the periphery of the team but if I am honest with myself, more often than not I choose to remain apart for a variety of complex reasons, not least of which is a sense that I cannot truly be myself. I stand on the periphery, waiting outside the metaphorical open door to be called in, becoming disillusioned at not receiving the call, failing to understand that those already inside are simply waiting for me to enter. An alternative therefore is to engage more, to involve myself more and see what happens. Take some risks perhaps and see how I feel. It isn't enough for me to fully believe it yet, hence the sandness rating of 8, but it is something to work with.

This past week, I was taken aback when my therapist suggested that I was happy in my current job. My immediate reaction was, 'Me? Happy? How very dare you.' But perhaps it is fair to say that, whilst I'm not yet where I want to be, I am where I need to be, at least for now.

I Got A Feeling

Over the last few weeks, my primary emotion has been one of sadness. It sits there, sometimes flaring up but at other times just lurking in the background. There is a certain level of resentment that those around me do not know and do not understand. But then how can they? They cannot mind read and so unless I share, no one will know.

Additionally, I feel  vulnerable. Partly that is of my own making. Posts such as this, openly sharing my thoughts and experiences, expose me in a way that most people would not contemplate. But that apart, I feel more emotionally fragile, I do not always know how to process or express the thoughts and feelings I experience.

In the first session, my therapist helped me to understand this is a consequence of my journey of recovery. I recognise now that I spent years suppressing or ignoring certain emotions. I played the fool, acted remote, pretended I didn't care. I was embarrassed to show emotions and laughed at those who did.

Now, I find I am a softer, kinder person. I feel empathy and compassion. I feel warmth and affection. I no longer feel a need to hide who I am and how I feel. I am coming to understand and embrace my emotions and I am ready to share them openly and honestly. 

The principle point of these therapy sessions is to learn to be happy with the life I have chosen for myself. As was highlighted to me, it is folly to compare myself to others. To look at someone else and judge your own actions and worth by their standard is to cherry pick the parts of their life you envy whilst ignoring their very different circumstances.

Yes, But...

Week 2 revealed overthinking to be one of my character traits, the 'yes, but' reaction to any positive that sees me search out the negative.

I recognise that having three young children, including twins, is hard work and that as they get older, things will become easier. But then again, I worry that I am wishing the years away and that I will look back with regret at a period of their lives that I didn't take the time to properly enjoy.

My current work situation is undoubtedly improved from the previous one. I have limited stress, I leave the office on time, I don't work extra hours at home. But I am no longer a manager, I no longer have any serious responsibilities and as such, feel as though I have lost a part of my identity.

These are thinking errors. It is an immediate, automatic response that seeks to invalidate the good and focus on the bad. It is a voice that I am trying to learn how to block out. I am guilty of overthinking and over analysing. I must learn to calm my mind and that is best achieved with...

Mindfulness

I used to write a lot about mindfulness. It was one of the central concepts I took away from the Priory and a bedrock of good mental health.

For those unfamiliar, mindfulness is the act of being in the present. Our minds often have a tendency to wander and whilst generally harmless, this can become an issue where your thoughts begin to dwell too much on the past (rumination, leading to depression) or the future (procrastination, leading to anxiety). Mindfulness therefore teaches us to recognise when the mind is drifting and to bring it back to the present moment, without judgement.

In a practical sense, it means that when I am with the children, just to concentrate on that. When all three of them want to play with me or sing songs or muck about, there is no value in worrying about the washing that needs folding, the grass that needs cutting or the tweet I haven't read. This thinking simply leads to resentment at precious time being lost whilst not focusing on the most important thing that is right in front of me. So instead I look to be mindful, to embrace what is happening within the moment, let the past stay where it belongs and let the future reveal itself as it will.

This week I will be trying an app with some built in techniques to help focus the mind but it is a skill that can be practised at any time.

Still To Come

In future sessions, I hope to address my inherent inferiority complex, my need to judge, rank and compare myself to others and my obsessive thinking. Plus, er, some other thing that I'll keep to myself for now, ta.

What do you see when you look at me?

The smile on my face or what lurks beneath?

What do you hear when I say hello?

The voice that wants to please or the pain in my soul?

What do you do when alone I stand?

Let me walk by myself or take me by the hand?

What do you think when silence reigns?

Misery? Arrogant? Or something else to blame?

What do you say when I share my thoughts?

It can be difficult to know how to help and support.

So when I pull away, isolate within myself,

Know this isn't me, just an aspect of my health.

I won't be this way forever, for now there's something that I lack,

For it's happiness I seek on my long journey back.

Not for the first time, I find myself emerging out of a period of low mood, wondering what all the fuss was about.

I try to make a concerted effort to blog my thoughts during these periods but do not always do so when I come out of the other side. This can lead to an imbalance of my writing where it may appear the dark times outweigh the lighter times.

As a result, I have bountiful writing to reflect back on that captures these darker moments and I almost find them an embarrassment. The depth of feeling and the peeling away of layers exposes a side of me I no longer recognise, no matter how raw and real it felt at the time.

That is exacerbated this time round as I have chosen to undertake further therapy. Instead of taking comfort from this positive step, I feel like a fraud. The complication is that there has recently been something very specific troubling me and although the underlying cause is undoubtedly deep rooted, the surface level sadness has now dissipated. I start to wonder then, was I just sulking? Do I really need more therapy? Is this just life and I need to get on with it?

Or is this in fact just another aspect of my illness speaking? I feel better today. That's great, because I felt awful last week. And pretty crummy the week before that. And I felt low in March and April when I was overwhelmed at the thought of a new job, ran away from it as fast as I could and first thought about seeing a counsellor. Not to mention in February when I crashed and burned, ultimately resulting in me going back onto anti-depressants. And that's just 2016.

In between are the less obvious symptoms. The constant tiredness, the lack of concentration, the zoning out, the lack of patience with the children, the withdrawal and isolation, the self judgement, procrastination and rumination.

Rather than being a fraud, there is a danger that I come to simply accept a lower quality of mental health as being a part of normal life. I deserve better.

After a 3 year gap, an interesting follow up session with the psychiatrist this week.

I had gone into the appointment with a broad idea of what topics would be covered and whilst they largely were, there were certainly some surprises. The majority of the discussion was taken up with a subject I had not anticipated and one that even I am not brave enough to disclose here! It is an underlying issue but one I had not previously considered as part of my mental make up. In hindsight I can see that it has impacted me for some time and it is a relief to know that it is now being addressed.

In many ways, I wasn’t sure what I was looking for out of the session. After all, I hadn’t actually planned on seeing the psychiatrist at all having originally envisaged seeing a counsellor. The advantage of seeing a psychiatrist is that, rather than just getting you to open up, they probe for causes and underlying symptoms, targeting the precise areas that need to be addressed. I come away from the session with some new medication to try (the previous anti-depressants proving ineffective and exacerbating tiredness) plus two referrals, including a CBT therapist specialising in my areas of difficulty.

Each visit, I find myself marvelling at how this professional is able to so accurately assess me from such short meetings. It is heartening to hear someone say that I am selling myself short, that my anxieties are holding me back, that I am far more capable than I give myself credit for and that, most importantly of all, things can be better. He was surprised that I feel comfortable explaining something I am knowledgeable on to an executive committee but terrified when performing a routine admin task, behaviour that reflects a black and white need to have absolute knowledge of a situation (impossible of course) before having any semblance of confidence. And even then, I shy away from appearing too confident in case it is mistaken for arrogance, another perpetual fear and one that undoubtedly serves to undermine my personal relationships.

I was also fascinated by his observations on my redundancy, something that hangs over me 3 years later. I had perhaps focused on the negatives; feeling rejected, unable to find work, taking ‘low grade’ temp jobs and feeling robbed of the opportunity to put what I had learned into practice. He noted that I looked back wistfully on a job that never was. I have perhaps maintained a fantasy that I would have returned to my job, magically reintegrated myself and completed my journey of change. The truth of course was that I hated my job and was thoroughly miserable and there was as much chance of falling back into my old unhealthy behaviours as there was in embracing new ones.

So what now? Some targeted CBT sessions with a therapist will hopefully help me to work through the inherent confidence issues I suffer from, after which an appointment with a specialist to sort out the ‘other thing.’

I feel positive moving forward. Part of me had wondered (again) if I was just a big, whiny fraud who needed to suck it up and get on with life. It is therefore gratifying to seek professional advice and understand that these are deep rooted psychological issues holding me back. In many ways, I am back where I started before therapy. But at the same time, I recognise the lessons learned, accept that I can change and know that it can work.

Random thoughts…

…the whole confidence / arrogance thing has a major impact on developing friendships. Over the last few weeks, I have been wrestling with the concept that people don’t like me very much and, where they do, that they like others better or will soon tire of me. Why I feel the need to rank myself in someone’s affections is an issue in and of itself but regardless, I find myself constantly scrutinising my own behaviour, looking for signs in something I have said or done that may have caused someone to stop liking me. It is tiring, not to mention fruitless…

…linked to this, it occurred to me that I operate a double standard. I crave affection whilst offering none back, wanting (expecting?) others to welcome me warmly and invite me in whilst remaining stand offish and disengaged. As a result, I am aware that I have a very small circle of close friends, which accentuates the importance of each one, thereby heightening my sensitivity to potential conflict or misunderstanding. Ultimately, I end up feeling isolated and lonely a lot of the time. If I want to be included, I have to start being inclusive…

…worryingly, I noticed how I have started projecting this behaviour onto my children. Looking at one of the girls play with her friend, the thought occurred to me, ‘Does her friend really like her? What if she gets bored? What if my child annoys her and they aren’t friends anymore?’ It is revealing of the fundamental confidence issue that runs through me that I think even my own children will be deemed not good enough by their peers…

…I repeatedly find myself questioning my actions, another confidence issue. Any decision is like approaching a fork in the road and instead of just picking a direction, I find myself stuck, unable to decide where to go. Case in point are posts like this. When I first started blogging, I was proud to do so openly, to share my experience, normalise mental health issues and maybe, just maybe, help someone else who was struggling. My published collections contain a frightful level of personal stories that I have no regrets in sharing. But more recently, I have started to question if I share too much. It’s not that I don’t think people will care, they are of course free to not read. It’s more an indefinable sense of getting it wrong, whatever ‘it’ happens to be.

It is a strange experiencing walking the road of therapy for the second time.

Of course a lot has changed. First time round, I had no idea what I was doing. Going to see a psychiatrist brought up all sorts of negative connotations in my mind but the key issue was my underlying mindset. At the time, I had no appreciation of mental illness. I thought I was weak, stupid and inferior. I thought there was a hole right through the middle of me, a gap where other people had the gene that let them be happy. I felt incapable of operating within normal society, I wanted an excuse to be able to say, ‘see, I have serious problems, I cannot possibly come to work ever again.’

Of course with time, I came to understand this was an illness. Not like a cold or a virus. This wasn’t something I had caught that I could pop a couple of pills and soon be over. This was a subtle, complex illness of the mind, brought about by years of unhealthy, negative thinking patterns and behaviours. With help and support, I found my way back. There were roadblocks to come, some of which set me back or sent me down a diversion. But I kept going.

So now, 3 years on (almost to the day) I find myself back in front of the psychiatrist. This time I understand that I am battling an illness, the symptoms of which may come and go but will always be with me. I also understand that it is an illness that I can, if not beat, at least manage and contain. I can be happy. I can change.

There are some specific factors that have directly affected my mood that I hope to address but I also recognise that these are borne out of long-standing, intertwined issues that go right to the core of my being. From loss to redundancy, parenting to work stress, appearance to popularity. Each is a branch of the same worry tree with the roots of the problem firmly buried in a crippling lack of self-confidence and esteem.

If life is a journey then I currently find myself in a grim looking roadside café, studying the map, trying to figure out if I’m even holding it the right way up. This is not the end of the journey, rather I just need some help finding my way again and so I have swallowed my pride and asked for directions.

I’m not sure where I’m going but I’m looking forward to getting there.

The caveman woke one day and wandered out of his cave. What was this brave new world around him?

He walked and walked until he was very far from home. He had no idea where he was but it was all very exciting.

He came across a market place, then a town. Here he stopped and lived with the locals for a time. He made friends, some very good friends. Yet he always felt on the outside, like a plus one invited to someone else’s party. He was frightened to get close in case he got hurt. What if they didn’t like him as much as he liked them? That would be humiliating, he could not handle the rejection. And so despite being surrounded by people, he felt very much alone.

After a while, he became tired of the hustle and the bustle and the noise. He grew tired of feeling sad. He wanted to go home.

It took him a long time to find the way and when he eventually got back to his cave, tired and miserable, he vowed never to leave again. He was happy here where life was simple and quiet.

Each day he got up and walked around his little patch of land, never straying any further. Occasionally his friends from the town would stop by and ask him to join them. He resisted, assuring them he was happy in his little cave. They wouldn’t miss him anyway, would they?. After a while, they stopped asking.

Eventually the pathways he had once wandered down grew over from lack of use. No-one came to see him. It seemed that no-one knew he was there. He spent every day all alone.

Soon, he started to feel sad. He didn’t understand at first. This is what he had wanted, a simpler, quieter life. But he began to understand; he was lonely.

But what could he do? The pathways were long since gone, he couldn’t find them anymore. And no-one would be looking for him, he had pushed them all away. They wouldn’t want him.

That night, he was digging around at the back of his cave when he noticed a small chink of light. Looking closer, he noticed part of the wall was loose. He pushed and pulled until eventually the rock broke free and he walked out into the light.

In front of him was a new path. It went the opposite way to the last one. It took him a few days to think it over but eventually he set off along the new pathway. He wasn’t sure where it led and he wasn’t sure he would like it when he got there. But he promised himself he would try.

It’s almost my birthday. Hooray!

Inevitably then people start asking what I want, to which my usual response is something along the lines of, ‘I don’t know, I don’t really need anything.’

Well this year I have a very firm idea of what I want for my birthday. And the best news is, it doesn’t cost a penny.

You see, I want to stop feeling as if I am inadequate.

I want to stop constantly comparing myself to others.

I want to stop searching for the negatives, constantly seeking to reaffirm the very worst thoughts I hold about myself.

I want to stop feeling that I cannot cope.

I want to stop assuming it is always my fault.

I want to stop shutting people out through fear that they might not want to come in.

I want to stop feeling this way.

Instead, I want to recognise that I am good enough.

I want to recognise that I have my own strengths and my own values.

I want to recognise that I am kind, thoughtful, witty and clever.

I want to acknowledge what I have achieved and how far I have come.

I want to recognise that I have a pretty good record at getting it right.

I want to start inviting people in and see who wants to stay.

I want to change.

Of course the truth is that these are not gifts that anyone can buy for me. You won’t find these on the shelves or at Amazon. These are concepts and thinking patterns that I must embrace, slowly but surely.

So often, birthdays leave me feeling low, the sense of obligation to enjoy myself overwhelming me. I am not being miserable or grumpy. I feel fundamentally sad, lonely in a world full of people.

So this year, I don’t need a book, a game or a DVD. I don’t need the latest gadget or some expensive shirt. I need your help, your support and your understanding.

There might not be a party but this is my life and you are all invited.

I write a lot about depression but I wonder how many people really, truly understand what it is.

In the past, I have used metaphors to try and explain it. For instance how my brain feels like it is operating in fog or how I feel like I’m wading through treacle. But these metaphors only go so far.

I think it is fair to say that I currently find myself in the midst of a depressive cycle. This is not a couple of days of feeling down, it is a pervasive, persistent sense of low mood that impacts on all areas of my life. But what does that mean? Let’s get specific.

Depression is…

…sitting at my desk, surrounded by friendly colleagues, feeling completely and utterly alone…

…a knot in my stomach and a lump at the back of my throat that threatens to bring tears at any moment for no discernible, specific reason that I can point to…

…sitting down with one of my favourite games of all time, only to find that I cannot muster any enthusiasm to play it…

…just wanting to stay in bed and hide under the covers until the world goes away but dragging myself out, duty, as ever, winning out over feeling…

…reminiscences of the past turning from a happy memory to a sadness that those times have gone, accompanied by a sense that I will never be that happy again…

…scanning my brain, like a Windows search tool, looking for any and every possible instance that will prove my theory that others don’t actually like me very much…

…feeling a compelling need to judge myself unfavourably to others, feeding my low mood and creating a sense of guilt at my self-pitying jealousy…

…realising that I actually don’t have that many friends…

…wanting nothing more than to say, ‘I can’t come in today, I have depression,’ then walking through the door and slipping on a mask of professionalism and control to hide the swirl of emotions and doubts lurking just beneath the veil…

…staring at the page for ten minutes until I realise that I haven’t read a single word…

…lacking the energy, enthusiasm or motivation to perform the most basic of tasks…

…just wanting to sleep.

This is what I am currently living with. I do not share this to illicit sympathy, rather to inform and normalise, not to mention the catharsis of writing. That I can recognise these issues, and understand where some of them derive from, is undoubtedly a positive but clearly they also need to be addressed before they get out of hand.

The anti-depressants have helped, to some extent, with my anxiety levels but as my psychiatrist told me some time ago, they will do nothing to affect thoughts, the root cause of my depressive episodes. For that, I need professional assistance. I feel no shame in this, but I have internally procrastinated about it for over 3 weeks. It is time for action.

As with all things, this too shall pass. I have come through this before and I shall do so again. In time.

It is an unfortunate fact of life that, no matter how hard you try, some people just aren’t going to like you.

Now there are many potential responses to this. Some of us will care not a jot, dismissing the opinions of others as irrelevant, taking comfort from their circle of friends and their own sense of self-worth.

Others will be crushed, seeing all their worst fears confirmed and retreating into their shell.

Then there is a third camp, where I find myself. I tell myself that these opinions are irrelevant, that I have a circle of strong relationships, that I am an inherently kind, honest and thoughtful person, or at least try to be. I remind myself not to judge myself by another’s standard, not to allow someone else’s opinion to take precedence over my own. I tell myself this, then I ignore it all.

You see despite the front I sometimes put up, despite the confidence that I can occasionally exude and despite the impression I strive for of being in control, inside I am wracked by doubt, indecision and a fundamental, crippling lack of self-confidence. I never feel good enough, never feel popular enough, actively seeking out signs to confirm any negative thoughts I hold of myself. Despite craving affection, I resist opportunities to bond through a fear of rejection and humiliation, in turn feeding a cycle of loneliness and regret. If you go looking for negatives, the chances are you will find them.

Whatever the worst criticism that another may have of me, the chances are I have already had it and likely at ten times the ferocity. Not wanting to appear weak, I attempt to front it out, one of the many masks I have become adept at slipping on as circumstances may dictate. Anything to avoid admitting how I truly feel.

In another post, the question was put to me, why was I so concerned by what someone else’s opinion was? At the time, I didn’t have a good answer but it is now obvious; my fundamental lack of self-confidence causes me to seek validation from others. Where I do not find it (or perceive to have lost it), I retreat to lick my wounds.

So perhaps a better question is, why do I lack so much for self-confidence? And that is an altogether harder question to answer. Undoubtedly it is a combination of factors, from redundancy to weight, university to childhood. I still feel like I am searching for a place to fit in, keeping myself on the outside for fear of not being accepted. I want those close relationships but hold myself back, becoming resentful and bitter at those who are accepted when I feel I am not, even though the only person holding me back is me. There is an underlying sense of jealousy, everything must be judged, everything compared. I am not funny because someone else is. I am not popular because someone else is. I am not liked because someone else is. These are inflexible thinking errors, seeing life only as black and white and missing a world full of colour.

As ever, the thought occurs to me that I didn’t used to be like this. I felt confident to drive the banter bus, disinterested in personality clashes, unaffected by perceived slights. I knew what I was good at and ignored everything else. And yet it is this outwardly confident person that ended up in therapy, floored by the double punch of depression and anxiety.

That experience changed me indelibly. I am more open but as a result, more vulnerable. I feel as though I have lost the capacity, at least for now, to sort the valid critique from the unwarranted criticism with the result that every perceived slight is an eternal mark of shame that I must wear round my neck like an albatross, the slightest crossed word or disagreement built into OMG THEY HATE ME FOREVER. I second guess my actions, reign myself in. It is almost as though I feel I must apologise for being me.

I can be annoying, I know that. But then so can everyone, right? We all have our good days and bad days. We all have habits that can one day be endearing, another day make you want to rip the person’s throat out.

And I can be arrogant, rude and condescending. I don’t mean to be. I like to think I’m a better person than I used to be. Tomorrow, I hope to be a better person than I was today.

After all, life is a journey and I’m grateful to those of you who choose to walk with me.