Nevermore
09-26-2013, 07:10 PM
Hello everyone,
I just set up an account here and wanted to share some of my thoughts as I don't feel I have any other real outlet.
I'd like to get a discussion going regarding the ways in which we behave to try and cover up and mask our underlying problems from the outside world.
For me, my anxiety only broke me for the first time about a year ago. I always knew I wasn't "normal", (as cliche as it sounds). Through secondary school there was always something in the back of my mind that was telling my that my mind wasn't like all the other kids'. I was always nervous, skittish, afraid to speak up. I'd pretend to be sick on days where I knew I'd have to give a presentation. I feel like I don't need to go too in depth as you all will know these feelings all too well.
I had a small group of friends, but I was the only one to carry on into sixth form, and we all just kind of drifted apart. I met a girl, we dated, but things turned sour as she had problems of her own and we just clashed. Through sixth form I kept myself to myself, thinking I would be able to get my head down and work hard with no distractions; but my frantic and ever-worrying mind proved a massive hindrance. I performed poorly and didn't get the grades I needed to get onto the University course I wanted to do. Although after weeks of my mother speaking to about ten different lecturers, they eventually let me in, provided I could prove to them in my first semester that I was capable of doing the work.
I honestly didn't see the point in university, but I was 17 years old with no direction in life, and going to Uni was an idea I'd had drilled into me by teachers and my mother from day one. Okay so that was a bit of background but I feel like I'm rambling now. The last twelve months of Uni was hell; i was finally being broken by a condition I'd managed to suppress up to this point; which was now boiling over into a horrible mess of depression, severe social anxiety and panic attacks. I stopped going to lectures, convincing myself I could do it all from home. (Oh and i forgot to mention, during my time at the uni, i didn't make one real friend). I saw counselors, confided in my girlfriend, even my lecturer! I had to do my exams in a room on my own because the crowded classrooms became too much. This was my lowest point, this is where my anxiety had me well and truly in its grip. I felt weak and pathetic; and so I started to develop the "mask" I have used from that point.
I didn't even realise what I was doing, until very recently. I developed an obsession with my appearance, and the way I presented myself as a person. The last thing I wanted was to appear weak, so I became cold, bitter, and closed off from everyone. This over time, morphed itself into a quiet arrogance and self assurance (all a performance, of course). I noticed girls paying me more attention, trying to speak to me and get to know me. This gave me small bursts of real confidence, but nothing substantial.
Then came the thing that warped my perception of everything I already knew and drives me to the point of obsession. Clothes; my clothes are my mask and I use them to full effect every day. I took inspiration from characters in movies and T.V. shows. The first one that really grabbed me was Ryan Goslings Character in Crazy Stupid Love. I wanted to be him; cool, confident, sophisticated. I loved how men dressed in the 40's too. Films like Goodfellas and Casino, those guys knew how to dress. My biggest idol though has to be Harvey Specter in "Suits". He's like a modern day Sinatra; Strong headed and impeccably dressed. So I took this inspiration and ran with it. I left my old image behind and developed an obsession with high end luxury clothing brands. I remember the first thing I bought was a Vivienne Westwood watch, and from then I was hooked. I felt so different, more confident. Inside I could still feel my anxiety, but was fully aware of the power of this simple material possession. It just escalated from there; I became a fiend. I wanted the best and nothing else. I loved the exclusiveness and luxury that these items provided. I recently purchased a wool/cashmere blend overcoat that makes me look and feel like a million dollars. I feel confident whenever i go out in it and it constantly draws compliments. As well as the clothes, I grew an even deeper obsession with high end perfumes; another layer to add the the mask. I hated smelling the same as every other guy on the street, and so arrived my first visit to the perfume house of Tom Ford. The smells blew me away, they were like nothing I'd ever experienced. But with these exclusive scents came a price tag that would make the average person wince. I didn't care; if this was the price of my happiness and confidence (real or fake i couldn't say; the line blurred a long time ago), then so be it.
Sorry if this comes across negative, pretentious, or anything else. I have never spoken openly about this and it's hard to think of what to write. I use luxury/mature items to mask the fact that I am a still that scared little kid i was back in school.
If you've taken the time to read this, thank you. I would really love to hear some responses.
Thank you again,
Greg.
I just set up an account here and wanted to share some of my thoughts as I don't feel I have any other real outlet.
I'd like to get a discussion going regarding the ways in which we behave to try and cover up and mask our underlying problems from the outside world.
For me, my anxiety only broke me for the first time about a year ago. I always knew I wasn't "normal", (as cliche as it sounds). Through secondary school there was always something in the back of my mind that was telling my that my mind wasn't like all the other kids'. I was always nervous, skittish, afraid to speak up. I'd pretend to be sick on days where I knew I'd have to give a presentation. I feel like I don't need to go too in depth as you all will know these feelings all too well.
I had a small group of friends, but I was the only one to carry on into sixth form, and we all just kind of drifted apart. I met a girl, we dated, but things turned sour as she had problems of her own and we just clashed. Through sixth form I kept myself to myself, thinking I would be able to get my head down and work hard with no distractions; but my frantic and ever-worrying mind proved a massive hindrance. I performed poorly and didn't get the grades I needed to get onto the University course I wanted to do. Although after weeks of my mother speaking to about ten different lecturers, they eventually let me in, provided I could prove to them in my first semester that I was capable of doing the work.
I honestly didn't see the point in university, but I was 17 years old with no direction in life, and going to Uni was an idea I'd had drilled into me by teachers and my mother from day one. Okay so that was a bit of background but I feel like I'm rambling now. The last twelve months of Uni was hell; i was finally being broken by a condition I'd managed to suppress up to this point; which was now boiling over into a horrible mess of depression, severe social anxiety and panic attacks. I stopped going to lectures, convincing myself I could do it all from home. (Oh and i forgot to mention, during my time at the uni, i didn't make one real friend). I saw counselors, confided in my girlfriend, even my lecturer! I had to do my exams in a room on my own because the crowded classrooms became too much. This was my lowest point, this is where my anxiety had me well and truly in its grip. I felt weak and pathetic; and so I started to develop the "mask" I have used from that point.
I didn't even realise what I was doing, until very recently. I developed an obsession with my appearance, and the way I presented myself as a person. The last thing I wanted was to appear weak, so I became cold, bitter, and closed off from everyone. This over time, morphed itself into a quiet arrogance and self assurance (all a performance, of course). I noticed girls paying me more attention, trying to speak to me and get to know me. This gave me small bursts of real confidence, but nothing substantial.
Then came the thing that warped my perception of everything I already knew and drives me to the point of obsession. Clothes; my clothes are my mask and I use them to full effect every day. I took inspiration from characters in movies and T.V. shows. The first one that really grabbed me was Ryan Goslings Character in Crazy Stupid Love. I wanted to be him; cool, confident, sophisticated. I loved how men dressed in the 40's too. Films like Goodfellas and Casino, those guys knew how to dress. My biggest idol though has to be Harvey Specter in "Suits". He's like a modern day Sinatra; Strong headed and impeccably dressed. So I took this inspiration and ran with it. I left my old image behind and developed an obsession with high end luxury clothing brands. I remember the first thing I bought was a Vivienne Westwood watch, and from then I was hooked. I felt so different, more confident. Inside I could still feel my anxiety, but was fully aware of the power of this simple material possession. It just escalated from there; I became a fiend. I wanted the best and nothing else. I loved the exclusiveness and luxury that these items provided. I recently purchased a wool/cashmere blend overcoat that makes me look and feel like a million dollars. I feel confident whenever i go out in it and it constantly draws compliments. As well as the clothes, I grew an even deeper obsession with high end perfumes; another layer to add the the mask. I hated smelling the same as every other guy on the street, and so arrived my first visit to the perfume house of Tom Ford. The smells blew me away, they were like nothing I'd ever experienced. But with these exclusive scents came a price tag that would make the average person wince. I didn't care; if this was the price of my happiness and confidence (real or fake i couldn't say; the line blurred a long time ago), then so be it.
Sorry if this comes across negative, pretentious, or anything else. I have never spoken openly about this and it's hard to think of what to write. I use luxury/mature items to mask the fact that I am a still that scared little kid i was back in school.
If you've taken the time to read this, thank you. I would really love to hear some responses.
Thank you again,
Greg.