There has always been an air of simplicity about my presence in character. Despite the ambivertedness (qualities of both introversion and extroversion), the role of ‘happy go lucky Dave’ was a recognised and rarely challenged perception amongst family and friends.
Bubbly, outgoing, sporty and active; all resounding traits of a self-promoting fella, along with the mood swings, drama and bitter exchanges merely regarded as the impulses of teenage angst.
I’ve always enjoyed company, revelling in chat and laughter. But the hidden scorn of paranoia and insecurity could easily spoil the anticipated happiness of socialising and connecting. Talkative, engaging but quietly doubtful. Apprehensive about personal viewpoints on the basis that someone might not like me because of what I thought or what I said.
This silent persecution inside persisted in the form of mental torture; a daily routine of mirror goading tagged with insults and reminders that I was worthless, no one liked me and that I was better off alone.
Subsequent moments by myself allowed me to revel disturbingly in the triumph of forced solidarity; ignoring text messages, avoiding nights out and meet ups with the belief that I would not be missed, that family and friends would be glad I chose to stay away.
I decided being alone was better, championing alone time at any given opportunity putting rational to my cynical jest that “I hated people” and most likely as a result they hated me.
The peak of depravity in forced withdrawal from social circles came when reluctantly agreeing to join friends on a weekend away. Citing work as an excuse for late arrival, this made sure I could travel alone. I also booked separate accommodation with a comeback of financial constraint at the ready should anyone raise query.
The journey down carried with it conversations to myself about not wanting to go, not wanting to talk to anyone and making sure I could leave early and get to bed without anyone annoying me.
I booked a hostel which I soon cast as a poor call with 4 sharing a dorm room. My ignorance dictated that I was in no mood for entertaining others with small talk on where they were from and where they were travelling to. My burdening ego of inferiority craved silence. My head buried under a blanket as I faced the blank wall on a top bunk would work just fine.
The night passed with one liners and ‘lad’ talk as I stood judging punters and their happiness; detesting strangers at their content for enjoying life and enjoying nights out and having fun. I stood in a toilet cubicle with my forehead against the wall contemplating a drive home in the small hours of the morning just to get away from the noise and enjoyment of others.
Surrounded by smiles and laughter I felt nothing but a deep loneliness that had no name. I wondered what it would be like to be a “big personality”, to be confident and comfortable in every interaction that was had. I hated myself for the misery inside yet forced it on myself because in my head this was my level and this torture was what I deserved as I wasn’t as good as any of my friends or anyone I knew.
Before returning to the hostel later that night I realised I had forgotten my access card to get in. I said nothing but my unease was noted as a group of girls who had arrived and mixed in with the group labelled me “the cranky one”. My response was typical to my humour that night as I told them to f*ck right off.
I left and opted to sleep in my car. Uncomfortable, cold and unsettled, I convinced myself that this was the way it had to be done and being alone was always better.
One friend, who most likely picked up on my subdued demeanour that night, rang my phone which I was in hindsight hugely grateful for. Despite having a towel as a blanket, a jumper for a pillow and a hardened carpet beneath me, a place on the floor in his hotel room that night was perhaps the greatest comfort I had ever known.
These experiences of depreciation and mindless punishment are just a few from many clouded moments of confusion and misunderstanding in my very being. However they have played a vital role in my eventual willingness to discover a grasp in managing doubt and fear that rises when life is interrupted.
Working on self awareness has helped greatly in finding guidance. Acknowledging that whilst nothing in life is absolute, everything is relative. Gaining insight of my emotions and reasoning with the experiences I have been through gives me strength and confidence to persevere and compassionately embrace the value of myself and of equal importance the value of family and friends.
Read David’s ‘I sprained my mental health’ here.
Help information
If you need to talk to someone please contact:
- Samaritans 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org
- Pieta House 01 601 0000 or email mary@pieta.ie – (suicide, self-harm)
- yourmentalhealth.ie
- Aware 1800 80 48 48 (depression, anxiety)
- National Suicide Helpline 1800 247 247 – (suicide prevention, self-harm, bereavement)
If living in Ireland you can find accredited therapists in your area here:
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