I overslept this morning and was very drained and a bit depressed once I got up. Those feelings have pursued me all day. I feel better for a bit, but then they come back. Still, I’m doing a lot better than I was.
I had a meeting at The Network, the local government (I think) organisation that runs the well-being course I went on. I arranged to go on another course in February that might help with assertiveness and dealing with difficult thoughts. It’s at a place that is harder to get to than the last course. To be honest, I’m not sure if it will help, or how much the other course helped, but I’m wary of turning down free help, both because it’s free and because it shows people I’m still trying to get better. It will give me less time for writing, though. I still haven’t really spoken to my parents about not looking too hard for another job so that I can write.
I find myself struggling again this afternoon. Some of it is probably the tiredness, but some of it is a phone call I just had with a lawyer. I think I’ve mentioned once before that my Dad was in a road accident years ago with a motorcyclist who is now suing for damages (even though she insisted she was unhurt at the time and turned away the ambulance my Dad called). I just spoke to the lawyer to tell my side of the story (what I can remember, which isn’t much given (a) that it happened very fast and (b) it happened three years ago), in particular to state that I think that one of the witness statements was wrong. I feel that I could make my father’s case stronger by lying and saying that I’m certain that my father’s car was stationary when the motorcycle hit and that there is no way the witness could have seen what he says he has seen, but I feel that while the first statement is possibly true and the second is probably true, I can’t honestly swear to either as absolute truth. My parents say I should just tell the truth as I remember it, but I feel vaguely disloyal. The reality is that it isn’t my father who will pay damages, but the insurance company, but he may have to pay court fees, although I still have a suspicion that the insurance company will opt settle out of court (which doubtless is how unscrupulous ambulance-chasing lawyers make their money, not that I’m suspecting the motorcyclist’s lawyers of being like that). Still, the thought of giving evidence in court under oath is scary.
I’ve also discovered that I missed the deadline for my shul’s (synagogue’s) communal Shabbat (Sabbath) dinner. A What’sApp message went out about it a week or so ago, but there wasn’t an email until late on Monday evening. The email didn’t say that the online payment would close that evening! So I’m too late. That is a bit frustrating, but maybe it’s for the best, as I wasn’t sure if it would leave me feeling more depressed.
I just phoned to try to find out how much longer I’m likely to wait for CBT. There was no answer – typical NHS.
Then I tried to look over old posts from this blog for paragraphs that can be removed from their original context and expanded or grafted on to other paragraphs (newly written or from other old posts) to form into chapters that I could form into a book on mental health. This is going to take much longer than I thought, especially as I hate re-reading my old writing, as it just depresses me and makes me feel that I’m a terrible writer, that I have nothing interesting to say and why do I think people would want to read a book of my introverted auto-analysis? So I feel more depressed than before, but at least I did something. Although mostly I ended up distracted by reading about the supposed “Shidduch (Orthodox dating) Crisis” online. I don’t know whether that really exists, but if it does, it ought to have played a lot more to my advantage than is the case.
I was going to register with We Go Together (values-based Jewish matchmaking service), but then thought that maybe I’m lapsing back into depression and shouldn’t be dating and postponed registering. But thinking about dating leaves me feeling lonely again…
Lately I find myself wondering if I’m a kind person. A few people have said I am. I struggle to accept it, and not just from low self-esteem. I acknowledge that I’m a compassionate person who feels other people’s pain, but I find that often I can’t understand how to help other people in practical terms; sometimes I am just too selfish to do help too. I suppose it’s the divide between emotional empathy, recognising other people’s emotions, and cognitive empathy, taking other people’s perspectives and knowing how to respond. Autistic people have emotional empathy, but not cognitive empathy. One psychiatrist told me that I will never understand other people and should stop trying; similarly, a therapist told me (more sympathetically) that I want to help people, but I don’t know how. So I find it strange that people seem to think I’m kind.
It’s probably been on my mind because I’ve been thinking about dating again and I know I would want someone who is gentle, kind and understanding to deal with all my issues, but I worry that I don’t have anything to offer in return. I probably come across as kinder online than in real life because I’m better with text than words and actions – it’s easier to take time thinking things through in writing and perhaps I can imagine what I would want someone to say for me more easily than imagining what someone would do for me.