Why I don't like going out

I've become so scared of the outside world. 

When I say this some people may laugh but to me and many others it is a real problem. I hate going out. Now its not because of the fresh air or the scenery where I live that makes me like this. Its the people. 

Its people who I've become scared of. Scared of even the people I know and have known for years.

I'm scared of seeing them in the street and what they must think of me. 

Scared that they may talk to me. Then there is that awkward conversation. The conversation were they look down on me and think I am lazy for not having a job. For no longer being in education. Looking at me and thinking I am just a low life.

Its not like I haven't had a job before and enjoyed working and my education. And to those (if any) of you who have looked at my previous posts know that I was in University up until November last year but had to leave due to my mental health getting to the point I just couldn't function.

The reason I get so worried that people are going to judge me because I don't do anything is through experience. 

People never start of the conversation with how have you been?
How are you doing? Hows everything going?
They just dive straight in with so what do you do for work? are you studying at the moment?

If you reply with that you are doing neither of these things.... well, its sad to say you just get looked down upon.
People just jump to the conclusion that you are lazy. That you are a slacker. You can see their minds taking in the information and those thoughts showing in their minds.

Now its that which i can't deal with. 

The judgement. 

The judgement of those who know little parts of your life or have heard things through word of mouth or from social networking 'friends' 

They assume they know your whole life story. And within a few seconds they have made their mind up about you. 

Now that is the reason I hate to go out. 

You don't even have to have spoken to someone or even known them these days for them to be able to form an opinion about you. All they have to do is see you and a snap judgement has been made based on how you look. 

I suppose at some point in our lives we are all guilty of making a snap judgement about someone. But now it is time to realise that it just isn't fair.
People like me should not live in fear and anxiety about what others may think and say about us. 

This has become a major contributor in my mental health and I hate it. If we didn't live in a world were we judged people too quickly things would be so much better and easier for people like myself. People wouldn't have to put on such a front or hide away. 

Or only come out at night when they know they won't have to see anyone.

Think before you judge someone because you just never know what actually is going on in their life or how they feel.

Backtracking

I always feel like I am backtracking.

I have periods when I start to feel better. When I say 'feel better' I just mean that I find it more bearable to get through the days.
I feel like this for a while. Its as if I begin to forget about how bad I feel, I forget about all the negative thoughts that have been running round in my head. And life doesn't seem so dark. I can focus a little more on things.
But.... There is always the down fall.
It always leads back to that.
A few days before it arrives I can feel it building up again.
Thoughts start to swirl again. The world dims and things become unbearable again. I try to shut out the negative voices but they always come back in.
This is what happened this bank holiday.
Instead of spending the day relaxing or doing something nice with family, I met breaking point instead.
It was just too much for me. To carry on this way. I came to the conclusion that life just wasn't worth living. It is a waste of a life to spend it this down and always trying to push the suicidal thoughts to the back of my mind. Being so painfully lonely and not being able to do a thing about it because my brain just wont allow me to.

I tried to distract myself from these thoughts. I tried to read. Tried to sleep. Tried to do something productive. I even tried to exercise. But the thoughts where too much. The urge to do it was so strong and convincing. I rang the mental health team who I am under. I spoke to a lovely woman and she tried to help me. Told me I needed to distract myself. I needed to try and calm myself down. So I took the conversation on board. But twenty minutes later I found myself desperate for help. Desperate for these intense feelings to stop. The next woman who I spoke to was unhelpful. I needed immediate help and all she asked me was what help do you need. I don't know. I am not medically trained in mental health so I don't really know what they could do for me. I just needed help. I needed to feel safe from myself. But this woman only made me more frustrated because she asked me so why haven't you killed yourself?
Well because I want help that's why. I don't want to end my life if this can be sorted but I will if this carries on. I can't cope with this horrible feeling. This intense feeling. I ended up putting the phone down on this woman and taking myself to accident and emergency at the hospital. 

On arriving at the hospital I was very on edge and emotionally and mentally unstable. I checked in at the desk. Whispering to the receptionist why I was here and that I would either be outside or waiting in a quiet area because I couldn't bare people in the waiting room to be looking at me. 

When I was called to be assessed by the triage nurse i broke down. I couldn't control my crying. I sobbed and she put her hand on my knee. Just a small gesture, showing me empathy and listening to every word I said. We talked for a couple of minutes so she could make a full assessment before passing me on to the mental health team. She asked me if I had harmed myself..........
I shamefully admitted that I had. I did it to try and be in control again. To try and stop the mental pain for even just a second. To try and focus on the physical pain. To distract me from the way I was feeling... But it didn't work. It was something I hadn't done for a while but it was the only thing that I thought might work.

The next four hours I spent waiting to see the mental health team. All the while I wanted to run away and end my life. It is horrible to feel this way. To feel a risk to yourself. To feel that you are not in control anymore and if you didn't get immediate help you would end your life.
Finally the mental health team arrived. Two members of staff who I sat in a quiet room with. We talked. And I cried a lot. They was trying to get to the route of this feeling. Kept asking me why I hadn't ended my life? Why I had chosen to come to the hospital instead. Why I explained to them the same reason I had told the other assessment team over the phone. I just felt unsafe. 

I just needed something to get me through the next twelve hours. Because in twelve hours (the following day) I would be attending group therapy which is clinically proven to help me control my intense emotions, impulses and relationship management which is some of the things that fall under this new diagnosis of Borderline personality disorder.  

I just needed something to get me to that session the next day.
The took me to a part of the hospital which was a ward for the walking well. Which was basically for people who could mobilise fully and would come in for treatments then go back home the same day once signed off as fit and well enough to do so.
The mental health team gave me a tablet. Something I can't even remember the name of. But it was to relax me. To help suppress the feelings of feeling like this. 

After a while the tablet started to kick in and I texted my mum explaining what had gone on. Mum was really supportive. Knowing it was a difficult thing that I had to tell her about. Knowing that I was worried about upsetting her. At around eleven that evening the mental health team came back round to review me.
We had the same discussions that we had earlier when I first arrived. We noticed that there was a considerable difference in the way I was feeling. While the thoughts of being better off day hadn't gone away completely, the had died down a considerable about. They were happy to discharge me to my home knowing that I felt better, had the support of my family and had a session which I would be attending the following day.

When I arrived home my mind was taken off the thoughts altogether and replaced with how exhausted I felt. How emotionally and mentally drained I was. I just fell straight asleep. 

Ready for the group therapy the following day.