My parents and my cousin went to football today (Spurs vs. Bournemouth… perhaps inevitably, the family are Spurs fans (they have a reputation for being the most Jewish club). Spurs won 5-0). I’m not sure whose idea it was; I think it was my parents’ and then my cousin asked to join them, but I’m not sure. I don’t like spectator sport, so I stayed at home.
I woke up feeling really drained and quite depressed again. It’s only got worse as the day has gone on. I wish I could have a good day that wasn’t followed by a bad one as ‘payment’ for it. I don’t feel up to doing the chores I was supposed to do today. I forced myself to go for walk and to do ten minutes of Torah study. I should also try to write back to the author Yaakov Klein, who emailed me about my recent comment about his book on my blog, although I’m procrastinating about that because I feel ashamed that I got annoyed with what he wrote. But really, I just want to eat and sleep. My problem with depression used to be fighting the urge to sleep too much. That’s still an issue (I got up after 11.00am today), but lately it’s become just as much of a struggle to avoid eating. I’m probably better at fighting the urge to comfort eat than the urge to oversleep, but it’s hard.
I don’t even feel particularly motivated to watch TV, let alone do anything more active. I’ve got a lot of anhedonia today, although there’s a lot of exhaustion and depression too. I just wrote the following about anhedonia in a comment on the Mental Health at Home blog:
Anhedonia is hard too. I find that it can be the hardest thing because the people around me will give me more sympathy if I’m visibly exhausted or suicidal, but if everything just seems meh, no one really cares or even knows that I’m sitting there not enjoying things that in the past I would have liked. To make it worse, I suspect I’ve had anhedonia since my early teens (at least) so it’s difficult to remember by this stage that I used to enjoy stuff a lot more.
I’m thinking about relationships again. I don’t know why I’m so desperate to be in one, considering I usually avoid social interactions. Actually, that’s not really true. I do know why I want to be in a relationship: because I have a complicated relationship with my parents and sister stemming from a difficult, love-starved childhood (for reasons not in my family’s control) and so I’m desperate to be loved by someone to try to meet that long-felt, rarely-met need for affection and care. This is not a particularly healthy reason to want to be in a relationship, doubly so when you consider that it’s compounded by a lot of religious repression and guilt about perfectly normal sexual desires, plus the fact that my lack of romantic success in the past makes me feel that I’m destined to be romantically and sexually inadequate forever, even if I do end up getting married.
I just wish someone really understood me and connected with me, I suppose. I want to love and be loved, which probably isn’t surprising given my personal history (loneliness, bullying), but I worry I want to be loved more than I want to love someone else. I’m not sure I could express love correctly anyway. Whatever “correctly” is in the context. Autism, social anxiety and depression do not make it easy to develop social skills, and I guess that loving is a social skill.
I’ve been told that I’ll meet someone when I least expect it, but that’s not how dating really works in the Orthodox world, where people mostly get set up on blind dates by third parties and it’s often all researched and thought out beforehand. That said, I did start dating E. out of nowhere (she contacted me through my blog and we emailed for a while platonically before dating), but that didn’t end well and I can’t imagine lightning striking twice with another random emailer. Actually, thinking about it, I met someone else I briefly dated through my blog, in a slightly different way, so maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe lighting will strike twice, but not thrice. Although I find it hard to imagine that anyone could like me even platonically, let alone romantically, having read the embarrassing, self-centred rambles I post here.
I just feel it would feel good if someone loved me, and let me love her, but I would still be depressed, anxious and autistic, so it wouldn’t really change anything.