I'm beginning to worry about my sociophobic tendencies. I mean, I thought I was supposed to be getting better with therapy... I was doing much better at the end of last semester, and I thought that was a sign that things were looking up for me. Now I sit alone in my room with the door closed for the whole goddamn day, because I don't have any friends to hang out with, because I have six people I consider my friends, of whom only two ever actively seek to spend time with me. One of those two is my roommate, and the other one knew me since kindergarten. I've managed to become a recluse when I'm living in a dorm. It's actually somewhat impressive.
I can't do the things I used to do to improve my spirits, like drawing or writing fiction, because I get too nervous when I hear people walk by and I can't focus on the subject matter. I can't get lost in my fantasy worlds like I've always needed to, in order to calm down and not have to think about real people and the constant judgment I perceive from them (yes, I know that it's just perceived and not real judgment, but I still have the emotional response to it despite my mental awareness of the truth). So instead I read online comics and browse Wikipedia entries. If I was living at home, I would at least be able to watch TV and totally block out reality for a while, but I don't even have that option here. I claim to be bored, but the truth is, there's lots of things I could be doing. Unfortunately, not one of them will alleviate the anxiety and resultant depression I feel. Most of them would make it markably worse.
I can't decide if I should give up and go back on medication or not. I know that if I report any of this to the counseling center they'll send me to talk with the psychiatrist and I'll be back on psychiatric medication. That fact depresses me as much as anything else in my life right now. I know I should take it if I need it but I don't want to need it, I've needed it for the entire time I was a teenager and I want it to be something I leave behind as I get older, something I outgrow like body glitter and waking up at 4 AM to catch a 7:30 bus.
But don't worry-- if I start to think about hurting myself in any way, I'll be at Schofield in an instant. Right now I have absolutely no desire to inflict harm on my body, so it's just a question of if my unhappiness is affecting my life enough that I need medication to function properly. I just want to be DONE with this crap.
|I Am 44% Abnormal|
I am at medium risk for being a psychopath. It is somewhat likely that I have no soul.
I am at medium risk for having a borderline personality. It is somewhat likely that I am a chaotic mess.
I am at medium risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is somewhat likely that I am in love with my own reflection.
I am at high risk for having a social phobia. It is reasonably likely that I feel most comfortable in my mom's basement.
I am at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that I am addicted to hand sanitizer.