depression, social anxiety and isolation

It begins after a not very good night out sitting at around 3 or 4 am on a bench listening to birdsong and feeling happy with a touch of sadness.

Or it begins the first time last year I ended up leaving a club early boiling with irritation at others and frustration with myself.

Or it begins one weekend morning after a night out, improvising a minimal comedown song into being from fragmentary phrases.

Or it begins the first time I either decided not to go out because I knew I'd have a bad time, or just allowed time to run out on me so I couldn't make it somewhere I wanted to go.

Though it came later in the year perhaps it began when I bailed out on a night of exhibition openings and open studios partway round. I'd asked a few friends in advance if they were interested, but most didn't get back to me, and in the end no-one I knew well enough to talk to was out. I hate being on my own in these sorts of situations, and feel extremely out of place. Despite being frequently alone and not naturally gregarious, I do prefer being around friends, and get extremely lonely when I'm not.

Or it begins when I had a meltdown in a club and felt like self-harming.

Or it begins when exercising or meditating regularly became too challenging.

It had already begun by the time I started to feel resentful that friends and acquaintances seemed oblivious to what was happening, and unwilling to offer support. I'm aware this is unreasonable. It's a product of my depression, so don't go getting all butt-hurt and defensive. And in fairness some friends have been there for me.

It had already begun when I had my first panic attack in work.

It had already begun when I started taking short bits of video to try and capture some of the visual disturbances and synaesthesic confusion exacerbated by Citalopram (now replaced with, for me, more effective Mirtazapine).

Things were probably close to their worst when I went round to a friend's, and overwhelmed by too many people (a couple of whom were too loud and overbearing) and overloud music, I had a panic attack and left early. Apparently unregarded by the majority of people there, certainly no-one got in touch later to ask if I was okay.

More irrational and unfair resentment there, but it's important to be honest. On the night in question, and more generally across the last two years, I've felt ignored. Someone might say hi, only to move on to talk to someone else before I've even replied. Or they just acknowledge my presence and leave it at that. Or it might as well be I'm not there at all. Like I said, unfair, but true to my feelings.

It begins some time after the first, or second, or third, or fourth time I thought things were getting better only to come crashing down a couple of days or hours later.

But of course not. It crept up gradually; slowly draining joy from nights out; removing motivation to do things; making frustrations grow; taking away my willingness to socialise by exaggerating both my general anxiety and my social anxiety; and all the other insidious thefts it carries out.

Now in the last week I've felt, that after hitting the bottom, with around a month of cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), several months of medication, and support from some friends that things are beginning to turn around. How long that will take, how many setbacks there'll be, I couldn't say. But it does feel like genuine progress has been accomplished.