My holiday finished three weeks ago now. It went mostly OK I suppose. At least I tried and it broke up the monotony of everyday life. Isn’t that what you are supposed to do with anxiety, keep trying new stuff, exposure therapy, feel the fear and maybe F**k up anyway. I never really felt that comfortable and after day one felt so awkward as to want to leave but it subsided. As mentioned in my previous post I still had bad moments later on mainly due to chronic nerves coming from my subconscious and my speaking ability being quite poor. In fact thinking of something to say is just a minor part of my social anxiety madness. Being able to make my thoughts known in coherent sentences when my mind conspires with my jaw,mouth and voice box to often produce some kind of noises only vaguely recognisable as the English language is still a major problem.
Never mind I suppose this is how the advice advocates recovery. Keep trying stuff, doing stuff until you get used to it and climbing that anxiety mountain. Of course the only problem is that I go back to near isolation at home again for weeks on end and as expected after a few days the anxiety and feelings of depression resume. On the odd good days I dont think about suicide. On the bad days I punch myself in the head and drink heavily. At least my sleep has been somewhat better although I still have to push wax plugs in my ears and have a workman’s ear protector over one or both ears and which are held on by tying an old sweatshirt around my head. Yes, more madness. I still might go and see the doctor again about my suspected diabetes. if I go and he’s not related to Adolf Hitler like my previous one I may even one day have the courage to mention my lifelong anxiety problems.