What do *you* want?

Last night I came to the realisation that about 95% of the people I have considered (either now or in the past) my friends have had ulterior motives.

On Monday night I met M – P’s old flatmate – for a drink to celebrate his new job.  We’ve always got on quite well but I thought nothing of it other than we were friends.  When we met, he was drinking martinis, and drank much quicker than me; I had one glass of wine and he managed 3 drinks.

We had fun, as always, just talking and joking about – that’s normal, right?  That’s not flirting, not in my opinion.  But, perhaps M got the wrong idea.  Because when we left he admitted he had something to tell me. I got a horrible feeling in my stomach at this point.  Then he said he liked me. I had no idea what to do. Then, he kissed me. Twice. I still had no idea what to do. I gave him the lets just be friends speech and left.

I called Boyfriend and told him. He was no help; he thought it was hilarious. But I was pretty upset. How could I have been so clueless? Was it me? Had I done something to lead M on? Boyfriend said that he couldn’t blame M, “because you’re gorgeous”. Again, no help. Thanks Boyfriend.

I didn’t really sleep very well that night and the more I thought about it the more annoyed I got. I genuinely thought M was just a nice guy and I thought we could be friends. But I don’t know how long he liked me for, and how much of his attitude towards me was because he had an ulterior motive. So I trusted that he was nice and was completely naive and gullible.

Once I started along that path I started thinking about other friends who I’ve assumed were genuine but had ulterior motives for being around me. T just liked me because she thought I made her look good – I was her fat, ugly non-model friend. Evil-ex-best-friend just wanted me to sing at her wedding. A consultancy colleague liked me in that way too whereas I just thought he was being nice and helping me out.

So, I’ve started to wonder if people are just all barstewards? So many people aren’t genuine; they always want something. I just want friends that I can trust not to take advantage of my naivety.  Why can’t people just be nice?

Today’s Grauniad: Why do so many women have depression?

If you’re ever looking for a ridiculously narrow minded and ill-informed discussion of “why so many women have depression” then read this article and the follow up.

The most odious segment in the follow up, is this question posed by the (generic) writer:

Have you or do you suffer from depression? What do you blame for causing it? And what ways have you found to cope with the condition?

What do you blame for causing it? REALLY? Well Ms./Mr. Grauniad writer, I blame society/ the media/ the recession/ David Cameron/ the opulence of western capitalism/ my big hips/ other nonsense reason for my depression. I just can’t look at David Cameron’s slimy airbrushed face without feeling the onset of intense sadness.

For those who didn’t realise, that was sarcasm. I am incensed. I can’t actually believe that a paper I would normally consider as remotely intelligent would allow such drivel on its website.  The last paragraph of the article is particularly offensive, implying that depression can be avoided/ cured by having men do more around the house and allowing women to “let things slide“, like we choose to have depression by trying to do too much.

I have experienced depressive episodes since I was a toddler. I’ve always had trouble with my mental health. At the minute I’m coming out of a particularly long, intractable depression, caused by nothing at all. There is no reason. It’s chemicals. Brain chemicals. I didn’t choose my brain chemicals the way I didn’t choose my hair colour and the fact that I can wiggle my toes independently of each other. Sh*t happens, and that’s what depression is; it’s sh*t.

The article makes it sound like depression is a choice, and a symptom of our “lifestyles”, e.g. I’m stressed at work therefore I have depression, my child isn’t a Mensa candidate therefore I have depression, I lost my keys therefore I have depression, I can’t afford to get my hair done this month, therefore I have depression. These things might suck, but they aren’t clinical depression.

Clinical depression is an illness as much as any other and it is not caused by an event; it’s a brain thing. When I’m in a period of depression, I wouldn’t care if I was stressed, lost my keys, had an only-average child or a bad hair day. In fact I probably wouldn’t even notice. Because when you’re depressed nothing and everything matters. Everything is as bad as the next thing no matter whether it’s good or bad. It’s all tainted with the inexplicable soul-crushing sadness of depression. 

For me, nothing can cure it. I can manage it, with a combination of medication, lots of therapy and a herculean effort to listen to what my mind and body needs, but it isn’t cured, it’s just managed, and nothing other than sh*t happens is to blame when it comes back.

I’m actually so angry I think I need to go and sit away from my computer for a while.

Am I being stalked?

Creepy guy called again today. On the house phone and my mobile. And he sent me a message. It said:

Hi Susanne [in other words, not my real name but sounds vaguely like it]. I’m contacting you cos [sic] since school I’ve thought of you as a friend and wonder how things are? I’m back home and got a nice flat in the city. I know its [sic] been a while but I’ve been a busy soldier. At school you were my only pal and I’ve never forgot [sic] that. I’ll try to call and hope to hear how you’re doing. Mark.

Seriously, is this stalking? I don’t know this guy, and he evidently doesn’t know me because he has my name wrong. But he has called every Friday since the night Boyfriend gave the creep my mobile number. At first I thought it could have been a wrong number and a big coincidence. Then I thought perhaps it was a sociology/ psychology student doing an experiment to see how long I would endure a conversation with a stranger in a suspected case of mistaken identity. But now it’s been a month and I can’t tolerate this anymore.

I know on the scale of nuisance calls this is probably at the bottom, but it’s freaking me out. So tonight I took action. I called BT and got the creep’s number blocked and got my number made ex-directory. Then I called the mobile phone company and changed my number. So the creep won’t ever get through to me again.

My only fear is that my address might be in the phone book. What if he gets fed up of me not answering calls and texts and sends letters? Or even worse, turns up at the flat? I know I’ll be moving within the next year so I guess it’s not that big a deal. It’s just creepy. And a bit sad. This poor guy evidently has so little in his life that he’s trying to make contact with strangers. I hope he finds peace somewhere, because he’s getting nothing from me.

Power of suggestion?

I’m watching my usual Sunday morning tv cooking shows and craving meat. I don’t eat meat. I’m vegetarian. Weird weird weird.

I’ve been exercising a bit more lately, and because of my braceface I don’t eat as much as before, so maybe my body wants protein to fuel the muscle growth?

Or is it the power of suggestion? Does the food being cooked on the tv look so good that I just want to eat it regardless of what it is? Although, it didn’t look that good.

So my question is this: should I act on it? I’ve been trying to respect myself a bit more lately. So if my body wants meat maybe I should eat some? I don’t know. I’ll think about it.

Rainbow Daleks?

Watching Doctor Who. The Daleks are multicoloured. Seriously. There’s a white one, a red one, a blue one and an orange-yellow one. They look like they should be on a kids’ TV programme. I expect one of them to burst into a song about counting to five.

Return of the creep

Remember a few weeks ago I wrote about that weird guy who called me at A’s party? He called again, once on my house phone and once on my mobile. I didn’t answer (I was in ballet class) and thankfully he left no message.

I thought if the guy was just a crank he would just have left it when he realised I wasn’t going to play his game, but the fact he called again on both phones makes me think he might be a real weirdo.

What should I do? Wait til he calls back and pretend to be someone else? Say “I’m sorry Suzy is dead”? Or I could call the phone company and pay for call screening. I don’t know how much it costs though. And I don’t know if it’s possible to get the number blocked on my mobile as well. I’ll investigate tomorrow. That will be my weekend mission.

Freak, weirdo, oddball, strange dude

I was at A’s house in Glasgow today. She was having a cheese and wine party. As I didn’t have time to go back to Edinburgh between work and the party, she said I could come to hers and hang out, get ready etc.

We’d set the flat up with streamers, glittery stuff and masses of cheese biscuits when I got a phonecall from some mobile number; it was the DHL man delivering the iPhone 3GS boyfriend and I bought. He said he was a bit lost so I gave him directions. He said he thought he knew where I meant so he’d try again and would call if he couldn’t find it.

We had just sat down with a bottle of wine when my phone rang again: a mobile number. I assumed it was the DHL man so I answered it, but the conversation didn’t go as I expected.

Hi, is that Suzy? (let’s pretend my name is Suzy)

Yeah.

Hi it’s me. How are you?

[confused: DHL man wasn't that friendly before] Um, ok.

So how have you been in the ten years since I’ve seen you?

[this definitely isn't the DHL man. But who is it instead? Am baffled] Uh, fine I guess….

I phoned your house and you weren’t in so I got your mobile number.

[alarm bells - only my parents, Boyfriend's parents and my bank have my house number] Oh. So hang on, who gave you my number?

Just the person there.

[I mouth to A that I have no idea who this is. She gestures HANG THE F*** UP!!!!!] Oh.

So what have you been up to? How’s things?

[utterly confused and a bit alarmed] I’m actually out for dinner now, I have to go.

Oh ok well I’ll give you a text sometime. Enjoy your dinner.

Um, bye.

And I hung up. I recalled the conversation to A and then called Boyfriend.

Did you give my mobile number out to some stranger?

Yeah but I thought he knew you, he called the house, asked for you, said his name was Mark and could he get your mobile number. I didn’t think anything of it.

Fair enough. Just take a message in future, ok?

I got back to my wine and tried to ignore it, but more inconsistencies kept popping into my head:

• I have only ever known one Mark and he’s German, and lives in Germany; the caller was definitely Scottish and the number was a UK number
• Ten years ago I was still living in England; I didn’t move to that flat (thus phone number) or even to Edinburgh until 2005
• Even worse, ten years ago I was still at high school

Discussing it with A made me even more sure that this guy was a weirdo. But how he got my name and number I have no idea. My number isn’t listed: ok he could have dialled randomly, but how did he know my name?

I explained the creepiness to Boyfriend who promised to “go deck the freak” but I assured him he could redeem himself by calling the phone company and reporting the number as prank caller.

I feel weirdly invaded. But I didn’t want to insult the guy by saying “I’m sorry I don’t know who you are” so I endured 30 seconds more conversation than I needed. I wonder if it was a sociology/ psychology student doing research on people who have too many manners?

Whatever, it was really creepy and I’m suitably freaked out now. Definitely putting the mortice lock on tonight when I go to bed. And Boyfriend called the phone company so hopefully the weirdo won’t call back.

Creepy creepy creepy.