Published on 12, July, 2020
This is harping on a very familiar subject, I know. Most of us feel dislocated to a greater or lesser degree. For me, it seems to be accelerating. I've always found 'society' tiresome and exhausting, but have nevertheless always been able to manage as part of it. In the last couple of years, though, I've found it harder and harder to associate with others - even passively. In just the last year, I've retreated even more. I no longer want to be around others, unless it can't be helped.
I suppose getting my diagnosis has played a role in this. Any form of diagnosis, for any condition at all, has an effect on us. The awareness it gives us of certain things will influence our thoughts and behaviour. Of course, it was a relief for me to finally have answers to the questions I'd always asked. At the same time, though, the idea of being different was now firmly planted in my head. As my awareness grew - reinforced by research, and by things I learned from others - so, too, did my sense of difference. It was almost as if I'd previously been a human being, like everyone else - just one who was simply a bit odd. Now, though, it felt more like I was a different species of being altogether. An alien, almost. I was in a culture that made no sense to me. I couldn't read the signs. I didn't understand the language.
Growing older, of course, also has had an effect. The natural 'generational' thing. At 59, I'm old enough to remember times that almost seem like ancient history. London as an affordable place for working people to live. No mass travel (or not on the scale we have it now). Hardly anyone in the road owning a car. High streets full of independent retailers. No fast-food joints everywhere. Phones that were useful communication devices rather than things that controlled our lives. As little as 30 years ago, things were enormously different. And even if they weren't necessarily better times (depending on your criteria), they were in many ways more comprehensible to me. I look around now at the way people are jacked into the system via their devices, and it completely baffles me. I'm the only person at work who doesn't carry a phone with me during working hours. They all think I'm simply eccentric. So nothing has changed there, then! It makes me smile, too. They're all connected to one another - and through that, ironically, disconnected from their surroundings. Whereas I'm connected to my surroundings, but disconnected in other ways!
My colleagues at work are practically the only people (apart from the service users) who I spend a lot of time with now. After work and at weekends, I see no one - apart from when I go to the shops. I like to get to work early - well before everyone else - so that I can settle in. I've always been like that. When the others begin to arrive, we chat, and I'm included. Once the numbers reach about 4 or 5, though, I'm getting marginalised. By 8 or 9, I'm out of it altogether. When I try to join in, I'm quite often ignored. Sometimes, I've noticed, I'll be speaking and not a single person is looking at me at all. This scenario has generally been the case for me, throughout life, in any social situation. So I'm used to it. And it isn't necessarily that I'm disliked. One colleague, whom I've no reason to doubt, told me "Everyone here likes and respects you. I haven't heard anyone say a bad thing about you." Hm. Odd. He said "You're the most interesting person who works here." Really? You could have fooled me!
It makes no sense. And I no longer look for any sense in it, to be honest. I'm happiest just being out of it all. Where I've always been, basically. More so now, though. I used to feel like a moored boat: connected to land, but not really part of it because my natural environment was the water. Now... well, things are shifting. Is the current pulling me out, or is the land falling away? A bit of both, probably. Whatever the case, the ties are loosening.
I feel disconnected too, especially now both my parents are dead and I am alone on a foreign country. One of my oldest UK friends decided to take the scenic route to suicide and finally succeeded in drinking herself to death not long after my Dad died. I am not sure my UK long-standing long-distance partner is really brave enough to come out to join me, though I suspect we would each need more space than a small flat could offer.
It is comfortable in many ways, but where there is not much of a sense of community anyway. People work hard for very little and it's a city and it does not create a charitable mindset. and I still don't know what will happen with Brexit though I am seeing a solicitor soon about that. No doubt it will all cost money.
Things have opened up a little art community wise and teaching wise I have a little more my own clientele and I really hope I will be left alone and in peace to continue this way, as working for language schools was one of the most thankless and alienating apprenticeships I could ever have imagined. The early starts did not helpuch either so there were the joys of constant sleep deprivation too. Recently I was axed from the school where I had a handful of lessons, but I am not exactly collapsed with grief over that - the commute was horrendous, the pay was peanuts and my colleagues in the last two years didn't talk to me. So whatever.
I do have the odd friend and hope to find more like-minded arty souls. Toxic people with ego agendas need not apply.
nexus9 said:One of my oldest UK friends decided to take the scenic route to suicide and finally succeeded in drinking herself to death
I'm sorry to hear this, nexus9. However, I have to say that it's something I'm reserving for when things become unbearable. Some decent booze, some pills, oblivion on my terms. It's always there for me. The things that currently keep me from it are my cat, my work, my writing and my books. As long as there's something to live for, there's a reason to continue living. When it's not there any more, I shall have no hesitation in calling 'time'.
The way she did it was much messier, she was an alcoholic who lost her way in life. I do see that there maybe dying.g with dignity in certain circumstances, but suicide sucks for those you left behind,there is always that guilt. A friend who was in our artist group jumped off a train in 1992. There had been a red flag, in the way he bequeathed me Allis treasury responsibilities, after that it happened very quickly.
Yes, I take your point on that. When I was still in my teens, I had a colleague at work with a son my age. He had a lot of problems with allergies and skin conditions. She tried everything to help him: medications, different diets, etc. He was a nice lad. He used to come into the shop a lot, and I think she hoped I'd become friends with him. But he was shyer than I was. His conditions had made him self-conscious and reclusive. One afternoon, I answered the shop phone to a call from head office to say that my colleague needed to go home as her son had committed suicide. He'd hanged himself in his wardrobe. He'd left a note to say he no longer wanted to live with his conditions, and he no longer wanted to be a burden on his family. It was awful. It destroyed the family. I think it was remarkable that she managed to move on from it. The guilt must have been overwhelming for her. But she'd done so much for him. She couldn't really have done more.
The thing about not paying attention when they were still alive is what I meant. What happened meant end of the community anyway. No guilt tripping intended, we all genuinely felt so bad about what happened. It certainly all happened very quickly in the end.
Recently there was the story of a famous TV presenter who went to Dignitas to die and he made his goodbyes in good time, as far as I can gather, but he was 104. I can quite see why deciding to end it can conferva sense of having some control over your life.
If it is a case of distress at one particular point of time, that is a different matter, I would have thought, all other options would have to be gone to take this step. I argued strongly with someone a few years ago who was talking about taking this step, my arguments being shot down. As far as I know things are still very difficult, but things did move forward again.
No doubt it was me one other in particular considered selfish and attention seeking, when I was not coping with restart interviews in the UK in the 90's and declared 'I would rather be dead.' Earlier on some kind soul had seemed to think it helpful to tell me If would end up suicidal if I could not 'make money's as she put it. Yes, really helpful!
You don't think about those you leave behind. There's a tendency to guilt-trip suicides for their selfishness. But actually, isn't it more selfish for people to expect others to live in great pain, just to spare their own feelings? I think so. 'Oh, how could they do this to us?' Well... why didn't you pay a bit more attention while they were still alive?
The last attempt I made was when my mother was still alive. If I'd succeeded, it would have destroyed her. But I wasn't thinking about that. My head was so f*****d that all I could think about was ending the pain.