I went to the doctor about my medication. He prescribed 10mg tablets, but was wary of giving me a lot given that I was feeling suicidal last week. He prescribed for two weeks (upping the dosage to 80mg twice a day, to avoid having to split a tablet), to get me through the holiday and gave me a post-dated prescription for another two weeks that I can’t get until I come back. However, the chemist has now run out of the 10mg tablets. I should have enough to get through the holiday, when I add in the tablets I’ve already got, but I don’t know what will happen if they still don’t have any when I get back. Taking twenty-four tablets a day is going to be a pain, but going cold turkey from the only antidepressant that has ever been really effective for me will be worse.
I go to New York on Sunday. I may be able to see some friends other than E. when I’m in New York, but it’s not clear. They’ve left it to the last minute and are squeezing me in at the end of the trip, if I’m lucky. I hope I can get WiFi there, as all my arrangements are going to have to be via WhatsApp.
I’m just thinking depressed stuff about not having friends, God hating me and so on. I was going to write about it, but I’ve written it before and I don’t know how true it is. I mean, people probably don’t hate me. Even the friends who don’t get in touch (which is most of them) probably just forget about me rather than hating me, especially as I don’t use Facebook. My oldest friend forgot to tell me about the birth of both his daughters because I’m not on Facebook. I heard through my sister. I haven’t seen him in years now. I guess he’s always busy now he’s a rabbi. But it does seem that I have a history of being friends with unreliable people who stand me up or don’t get in contact. At least E. and my non-biological sisters contact me and respond when I contact them. For years I didn’t have any friends like that.
I feel the frum (religious) world I feel can be cliquey. People have their friendship groups and it’s hard to join, even aside from my issues about talking to strangers. I think people often make new friends through mutual friends, so it’s hard for me to as I don’t have many frum friends. Nor do I go to shul (synagogue) much to meet people that way, and I don’t have children to meet people through their school. I guess also people don’t know what to do with single people in the frum world, at least over the age of twenty-three or so. I guess if you invite them to meals, you have to invite two, to balance the numbers (because everyone else is there with a spouse), so it’s easier not to invite them. People aren’t rude to me about my being single, but I’ve heard other people complain they are, which also scares me off from trying to make friends a bit and makes me even more ashamed to be single, which I guess is silly as I won’t get set up on dates if I don’t try to socialise more. That said, I’m more scared about being rejected for being not frum enough and being geeky. A lot of frum people only socialise with people on the same level of frumkeit. I’m weird in having non-frum and non-Jewish friends (I sometimes wonder what would happen if I do get married and all my friends get to be in the same room as each other. I’m not sure how they would react). I feel too weird to fit into the frum world and am ashamed of my geeky interests and try to hide them as much as possible from other frum people, although I feel anxious about sharing my geekiness and Doctor Who fandom with anyone really, a legacy of childhood bullying. Now I’m unemployed too, so that’s a whole new measure of shame (actually, I’m technically still under contract for another three weeks or so).
I don’t really enjoy anything in the world and I haven’t since I was a teenager. I don’t care much about food, I don’t drink, I’ve never taken drugs or smoked, I don’t travel much. I don’t enjoy my religious life, I get no simchah shel mitzvah (joy in the commandments). I envy the people who enjoy Torah study and are refreshed by davening (prayer); they are just chores to me most of the time. I don’t get much enjoyment from music. I get a bit of pleasure from books and my favourite TV programmes, but perhaps not as much as other people seem to get. I don’t get hyper about new Doctor Who episodes the way some fans do, and probably not just because I prefer the original series. I don’t even binge watch really. Even when I’m very depressed, it’s very rare for me to watch more than an hour or an hour and a half of TV in a day. I can’t spend a whole afternoon and evening watching TV the way my mum and my sister can, I just feel too guilty for wasting my time. The same goes for reading, although when I’m depressed it’s hard to read for long anyway. Someone at my shul only seems to enjoy three things: Talmud study, his family and whisky, but he is a very happy person with these three things. I just have anhedonia and can’t enjoy anything.
The only joy and pleasure I really want is to love and be loved, and it seems that is denied me. I really want to talk about my childhood and the root causes of my issues here, but I can’t for various reasons. I just feel that I have never experienced love in an uncomplicated, healthy way since I was four or five years old. All the authority figures in my life have made love conditional or just ignored me. Because of this, I just assume that HaShem (God) is the same, that His love for me needs to be earned, and whatever I do won’t be good enough to earn it. So He punishes me by withholding the one thing I want, to love and be loved by a gentle, kind woman, and by making me depressed and socially anxious all the time. People tell me HaShem doesn’t hate me, but it definitely seems that way looking at my life, especially when I compare to that of many other people. I know shouldn’t compare, but it’s hard.
My oldest friend, who I mentioned above, has had big issues in his life, but he always bounces back. When I had to take time out from university in my final year, I never fully recovered and I struggled through my final year with severe depression and loneliness. When he had to take a year out, he recovered within a few weeks, spent the rest of his year off in paid employment, then went back to university and finished his degree. He got paid to train as a rabbi and was assured of a job. I try not to envy him, but it’s hard. We grew up together and everyone compared us, because we were inseparable until we were thirteen or so and we looked somewhat alike (except that he was much taller, stronger and more striking with red hair). But, like the two identical goats from the ancient Yom Kippur service, our fates since then have been very different.
Mind you, it’s not just him I compare myself against. One of the friends I might possibly see in New York just had an article published in my beloved Jewish Review of Books. I feel I should be doing things like that. He’s had several books published. I feel so inadequate compared to both of these friends, and to most of my friends. Maybe that’s why I find it so hard to form friendships, because I’m ashamed of myself compared to most people. It would explain why my close friendships are with people who are also struggling, and why they sometimes end when they get their lives together again.
I know I can’t tell what will happen in the future, my life may improve (I don’t want his life to get worse. I don’t want to take away other people’s blessings, just to have some for myself). But it doesn’t feel like it could after all these years, especially as I don’t know why HaShem would suddenly decide to bless me when I’m such a wicked person and when He seems to hate me so much.
I don’t feel I’m asking much out of life from HaShem: the mental health to fulfil and enjoy the mitzvot (commandments) like a good Jew, someone to love who really loves me and understands and accepts me, and with whom I can have happy and healthy children, and enough money to pay the bills and save a little for my old age. A few friends who can accept me. But it seems even that is too much and I don’t know why. I feel like since childhood I’ve been told (by actions and sometimes explicitly in words) that I’m useless, I’m not good enough, I’m not deserving of love. I’ve had to work twice as hard as everyone else to get any kind of recognition or support and even then I’m constantly told that I’m not doing well enough, I’m not trying hard enough, even though I’m trying my best with minimal energy, concentration, motivation, mental health…
I know I have to love and accept myself before anyone else will love and accept me, but (a) I have heard of lucky people who were loved without loving themselves and were healed as a result and (b) I don’t know how to love myself when it has been drilled into me that I’m useless and reprehensible and deservedly hated by almost everyone and by HaShem. Even reading this post back it just seems clichéd, pointless and badly written, like every other post on my blog.