Firstly, apologies if there’s a similar thread like this. Moderators and such can feel free to close this down or whatever if there is. Secondly, I’m making this thread in order for others to share ‘their story’ on here of their struggles with mental illnesses and the like. Sometimes it can be good to vent (even online) and help others realise that maybe they’re not alone in the World. I don’t know, maybe I’m just talking bollocks. Anyway, I’ll start off with ‘my story’ to get this thread started.


I’m not sure where to start, but I guess I’ll type as I go along. Some of this can be hard to type, as it brings tears and such to my eyes. Thoughts into words and so on. I’m a 21 year old male who hails from Northern Ireland, towards the northern area of the country. Currently, I suffer from clinical depression and social anxiety disorder. In terms of situations, I have absolutely no friends or social contact whatsoever at all. I’m socially isolated. Yeah, I realise my life probably sounds very lonely, isolating, and boring. When I say I have no friends and such, I don’t mean I only have one or two, I actually have zero. I very rarely leave my house. I’m just a boring hermit with no purpose in life, really. The only people I really have are my mother, my father (who doesn’t care), my brother (who I haven’t spoken to for months due to an argument), and my sister (who’s busy these days with my loving baby niece). I’ve suffered from self harm in the past, and still occasionally cut myself. I’ll get into that a little bit later. Due to suffering from social anxiety disorder, I can get VERY nervous and such in social situations. I’ve suffered from panic attacks in the past. I’ll get into more things later, though. I guess I’ll provide a bit of backstory. I’ll try and make this as short as possible.


I guess this all began when I attended high school. I was quite overweight back then, so obviously that made me an easy target. I’ve lost all that weight now, but back then I was about 16-17 stone. I’m 14 stone now, and stand at 6’1. Every single day at high school, I was beaten up, verbally abused, had bags thrown at me, etc. It was quite upsetting. Looking back, I’m surprised I never snapped and killed everyone. I’m serious. I’m glad it never came to that, but I can see why those things can happen. The teachers never cared, either. One day, I walked into history class, sat down on a chair (which couldn’t support my weight) and I fell through it. The teacher was in hysterics and made fun of my weight at the time (despite the fact she was quite overweight herself). That made me a big target though. I don’t know how I survived high school. I didn’t even attend half of the GCSE exams. People I spoke to in high school just always made fun of me. I never spoke to them after leaving (aside from one person, which again, I’ll get into later).


I live in a very rough town. Being from Northern Ireland, obviously Protestantism and Catholicism are big issues here. I don’t identify with either, despite coming from a Protestant family. I’m into politics quite a bit and all, but no way would I say I’m a Unionist. I’m more of a left-wing type of guy ha. The towns around here are very Unionist. I live about 50+ miles from Belfast, which is the only place worth visiting in Northern Ireland. I hate the people here. Folk my age or so are quite into their alcohol (obsessively), their drugs, or following the ‘in crowd’, or whatever’s popular and such. Being an ‘old school’ kinda young guy, I identify with no one here. No one’s into what I’m into and such. It’s quite hard. I guess I’m trying to give you an idea of the shithole town I live in. I rarely drink alcohol myself, so I guess that makes me quite unpopular ha. I do drink occasionally, but very rarely. I’ve just never seen the appeal in it. I guess another problem is that I don’t feel 21. I feel older. I feel about 40 or 50. ‘Old head on young shoulders’ I believe is the expression. My mother has always said that I’m the most ‘sensible’ or ‘mature’ one in the family, despite my controversial outbursts and considerable ‘rockstar’ motives at times! These have caused situations, but they’re not relevant to what I’m trying to say. Sorry, I’m babbling.


After I left high school, I attended a technical college for a few years, doing separate BTEC courses at Level 2 and Level 3 in ICT (L2 primarily, dropped outta L3 near the end) and Travel and Tourism (L3). It was here that I got into drugs. Primarily meth and marijuana. I guess I just wanted an escape. They provided that. None of my family know that I’ve ever done drugs. I’d be too scared of shaming them. That’s coming from a ‘fuck it’ type of guy, too. The only person who knows I’ve ever done drugs is my former counsellor. I did it from age 17 – age 19 or so. Not gonna lie, at the time I thought it was great. I’d buy drugs off a dealer into my class, who’d then invite me out for drunken nights and so. Most of these nights ended with me breaking an alcohol glass bottle, and self harming my wrists with it. It was around this time, this dealer I considered a friend only seen me as just another customer. As soon as he failed that Level 3 BTEC ICT course, I’ve never heard from him again. He was a vagina. Someone I’d never like to see again. User.


It was also around this time that I wrote a nine page letter to my mum about my struggle with life and clinical depression. She was heartbroken about it. I received counselling on Christmas Eve 2012. I received this until 2014 during the summer period. I’ll get into all that later though. At the time, it was a relief my family knew. It was like a big weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I’d been ashamed to tell them, and thought they would view me as weak and such if I ever told them. My mum is so wonderful, and she doesn’t even know it. I know it was hard for her to know I went into my built-in wardrobe just to sit down in there and cry, or for me to turn on the shower, just so I could sit in there and not let my family hear me crying. She could hear though. Her room is beside that bathroom. It was around this time that I also attempted suicide for the first time. I tried to hang myself with a belt, but it snapped. I then tried it with my bed sheets as I was quite desperate, but they were too long. Instead of killing myself that night in May 2013, I just sat up and cried the entire night. My dog was always there, though. He knew something was up ha.


During that time, I was put on 150g antidepressants, which I’m still on. Antidepressants kinda weaken me at times. Sometimes, I just feel like a zombie. Sometimes, I sleep the whole day as they make me even more tired, mixed with the fatigue of my mental illness. I’m still mixed on antidepressants. I don’t even know if they help in assisting me or not. I passed my Level 3 BTEC course in Travel and Tourism. I relapsed a little bit with drugs again during that. I’ve been ‘clean’ for about a year now. I’m now doing a one day part-time course at a college in Belfast, travelling there by train at 6am on Tuesdays. I’m doing a course in Event Management. I guess that part is a little something to build on. I can’t help but feel that I’ll fail though. Somedays, I don’t even leave bed. I don’t want to face the World, or anything. It’s not like I have anything to get up for anyway.
I don't even remember the last time I didn't cry myself to sleep. It's been a couple of years. I'm very soft, underneath.

I’m not like most people my age. Folk my age go out to get drunk constantly, take drugs (around here anyway), go out with their other halfs, or whatever. I just stay at home. I’m a fucking pathetic hermit. Talking on the other half, I’ve never had any experience. I did have an ‘online thing’, but again, I don’t think it’s relevant to type here. It doesn’t bother me ‘too much’ though. I’m fighting bigger battles. Like anyone would ‘like’ me anyway ha. I just don't have what others are experiencing at this age. I feel like my life is over already. That stuff is another matter though. I’ll get back on topic now.


One of those friends back in high school got in touch with me last year. He was a ‘scene kid’ (as I like to call them – into all that emo music shite and all that), but overall, I thought he was okay, and it was kind of him to apologise for the way he treated me in high school. We hung out a few times, and I finally thought I’d found a friend. Someone I could hang out with, or do things with, rely upon, tell things too, etc. As soon as he found a girlfriend, he told me to fuck off and die. His actual words. Never heard from him again, and don’t want to.


All I seem to do these days is self-harm, cry, and such. I’m worthless in many ways. I’ve attempted suicide twice this year, and have been in a mental hospital twice this year after failing in both attempts. I’d honestly be surprised if I didn’t attempt a third attempt before Halloween or so. ‘Social things’ like that make me feel even worse. I guess it’s because I’m lonely. Folk seem to say they feel ‘lonely’, but in my mind, folk don’t know what loneliness is until they have no friends whatsoever at all, no social contact, and no one. Counselling never really helped me. It did a little, but not too much. They don’t seem to concentrate too much on social isolation for me. Maybe it helps other, if it does – good. I guess it’s not for everyone.


I’ll try and end this hear. I’m just very sad, and such about life. I don’t ever see things improving for me. I’m pathetic, a friendless hermit, and worthless. I try and hang on though, for the hope of brighter days. Sadly, I don’t think they’ll ever come for me. My life is very boring, obviously. I’m quite a boring person. No one would miss me if I died. No one would notice. Maybe my mum, my sister, but that’s it. The only thing I have is music. Being at concerts and such, it is one of the only times I feel 'alive', as they put it. It's very rare, though. My social anxiety often gets the better of me. I don’t have a life. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m very down about things.
I'll just continue to cry every night, and hope for change.

Thanks for hearing me out.