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My life's story ( 16 April 2004 - 6:40 p.m. ) I spent a long time with a life so isolated and introverted as to be abnormal. I hardly had any friends in school, and outside school I had none. I spent my whole time either at school or at home, the large part of it shut away in my room. And when I was at school I was constantly taunted, so that I withdrew even further, shrinking as far away from people as I could get, because they scared me to death. Until I was 16, I didn't actually know any girls. And until I was 18 I never had any friends who were girls. I never had the whole teenage love thing, because girls went nowhere near me, or rather I went nowhere near them. I was a very ugly teenager, with horrible lank greasy hair, a crooked smile and the two teeth in front of my canines protruded so as to make me look eeven worse when I smiled. I was also incredably awkward, like I didn't really fit in myself. So anything even approaching a sexual experience was out of the question. I was terrified of leaving home to come away from university. I had, in the months leading up to it, actually been out with friends, drinking and things, but I still had very few, and was as introverted as maybe I had ever been. Once I got to university, however, things changed. I drank and drank. I was permanently either wasted or hungover, often both, for the whole of the first year of my degree. I would talk to anyone now, for I had the power of drink and drugs fucking up my brain. I had friends who were girls. I even managed to find myself a girlfriend at the end of the year, and as a result, lost my virginity at the age of nineteen. We went out for six months, and she is still the only person I have slept with. And really the only girlfriend I've ever had. After she broke up with me, mostly because she was bored of me, I went wrong again. The awakwardness returned, and I spent alot of time crying. It was during this time that I met Cat, and because she was someone whoo was there, I talked to her, and we became such good friends. And somewhere along the line I started smoking vast amounts of cannabis, and getting stupidly drunk in clubs, than becoming depressed as I failed to find anyone who would sleep with me, mostly as drunkeness did little to alleviate my fear of people. This culminated in me smoking so much in one night I began talking to people who were not there, as my housemat, believing the wall to be the floor, sat quite happily inverted in his chair. The hallucinantion continued for three days. I think the weed may have been doped with something. Soon after this, in a drunk post club depression, I ran home, took out my Swiss Army knife and sliced my arm five times. It wasn't too deep, but Cat was devastated when she saw it. After that, though, it was summer, and I felt better and didn't do it again for a long time. It was after the summer, from working to hard, that it all hit me again. I began regularly damaging myself with anything I could: knives, staples, pins. Anything I could cut or scratch with. And so they all made me go into therapy. Which nearly worked. Although I cut again, and got down again, and it was all going wrong. And now I think, finally, I'm over my awkwardness, over being scared. I feel relaxed, less needy of attention. And I think it's this Cat thing that's done it: because it's so vital I don't fuck it up. I think I may finally be out. And it's beautiful here. | |||||||||