Ugly in the Granite City

Winston Churchill often referred to his depression as a “black dog”, but I don’t think that metaphor can be used to describe my own depression, which isn’t of this world.  I’m no Winston Churchill either; he had a purpose, which was to lead a country through war, whereas I have no purpose.  Usually I see it coming, just as I did yesterday, but there’s no preparing for it.  When it hits, it hits hard and it’s usually the result of my soul wanting to escape this hideous prison of flesh and bone that has cursed me from the moment that I was born   It’s hits me when I’m reminded of the life I could have had, whenever I’m around the general public.  The envy I feel has only intensified over the years and that leads me to believe that not only will it never get better, but that it will only get worse as I get older, even less relevant and after my parents pass away and I’m left with absolutely no one.

I decided to visit the city of Aberdeen yesterday, but in hindsight, it probably wasn’t a good idea.  It was a Sunday and Sundays are weekends and I clearly need to do a better job of reminding myself of  the reasons why I shouldn’t go out at all at weekends, whether in Scotland or Rochester or anywhere else that I’m likely to run into human beings, their partners and their offspring.  Despite the fact that Aberdeen seemed like an extremely interesting and charming city, I wasn’t able to enjoy it and even the photos I took are all lackluster.

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PHOTOS: Day trip to Aberdeen, Scotland – 10-07-18

You might look at the photos and attribute some of my low mood to the rainy, cool, grey and gloomy weather, but that had nothing to do with it, although the rain did force me to retreat into a Starbucks until it eased up a bit.  Such weather energizes me when I’m not in an otherwise low mood, whereas hot, sunny weather has the opposite effect,  It’s a very grey, granite made city, but that’s part of what makes it beautiful.  Even the brutalist 60;s and 70;s architecture helps give it its charm and character.

But I can’t go anywhere these days without being severely triggered.  I felt (and looked) hideously ugly walking around Aberdeen and my depression felt like a lead weight attached to me, while my anxiety caused by my ugliness had me on hyper-vigilant mode,  I was going to take the train back to Inverness around 6pm, but I ended up leaving around 3:30pm instead, because I felt too awful.   Everyone I saw was either coupled up, with their kids or with friends.  That familiar feeling of being starving and forced to watch people eat my favorite dishes from behind a thick glass screen was plaguing me and I felt like a leper again.   When I went into a W.H. Smith to buy a sandwich, I couldn’t help but notice the word ‘mindfulness’ on a magazine and I wanted to throw up.

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The train was packed going back to Inverness and it was packed with families with loud-ass children and babies.  There was a baby in one of the seats nearby crying extremely loud and the noise was driving me insane and couldn’t be drowned out with my headphones and music.  I’m sure I wouldn’t have felt this way if I’d had children of my own, but when it’s all part of the ‘reminder’ of what I’m missing out on, it just makes it a million times worse.  I tried to focus on the scenery from the window of the train, but the scenery isn’t as beautiful as the western side of Scotland or the Highlands.

When I got back to the bed and breakfast around 6L30pm, I ate and fell asleep.  I woke up around midnight after a nightmare and watched some British comedy for a while, before falling asleep again and waking up around 4am.  I have to check out of this bed and breakfast today and I’m going to an Airbnb home until Saturday, which is an ‘entire apartment’ meaning no shared anything.  I’m rather worried though because the host isn’t replying to any of my emails and I have a horrible feeling that I’ve been ripped off and will be left stranded without anywhere to stay.

I really can’t stick around much longer.  My problems are going to follow me wherever I go in the world and I’ll never accept this ugly body as my own and I’ll never be comfortable in my own skin.  I’ll never have a partner or children, so I’ll never have a family to call my own.  While my anxiety relating to fear of people isn’t quite as bad as was in Rochester, I’m still socially inept and I’ll never get anywhere in life.  There’s nothing I want from life anyway, at least nothing that’s actually achievable and realistic.  I expend so much energy doing the bare minimum that I can’t take on any more.

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