My Self the Enemy

by Deborah EspectISBN 13: 978 1 84747 016 4 Published: 2006Pages: 200Description This book portrays the emotional and psychological difficulties associated with mental illness. It gives you an insight into her insecurities and troubles. It gives you the feeling that you are not alone. You can relate to her emotional plight. About the Author Deborah Espect was born in France and now lives in London. She has been in an American magazine and is currently working on a screen play and some short stories. This book is a reflection of the emotional difficulties involved with mental illness. Book Extract Why won’t they leave me alone? There’s always something. Always someone. The postman, the neighbours, the colleagues, don’t they understand? I don’t need anyone! Leave me in peace! Maybe I should move away. Find myself a nice house with a big, inaccessible field, or a forest, in the middle of nowhere. I’d grow my own vegetables, have a couple of cows to milk and I’d never need to see people ever again. What do they want from me anyway? It’s not like I have anything to give. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? No one asks how you are, what you’re doing, if you had a nice weekend, out of kindness. They expect you to ask them the same. Attention seekers! But I’m not like them. I don’t go around begging ’Love me!’ No wonder she has no friends, you probably think. Maybe I don’t, but that’s my choice. And I’m not completely alone, I have Naomi. We went to school together. Sometimes I think we only became friends because she didn’t have anyone else to talk to either. Things haven’t changed much since then. She used to be a complete nerd, and she still is. She’s been at university for three years, doing a masters or something; I never went. I was planning to be a vet, but the thought of killing anything, by duty or accident, terrified me. So did the idea of having to deal with the owners of the animals. Sometimes I wish I had gone to university. Now I could be something more interesting than working in a crappy telephone survey company. But I couldn’t handle more years of reading, researching and exams, not knowing whether there would even be a job at the end of it. I got this one out of luck, really. I saw an advert in the papers three years ago, just after I’d finished my A ’Levels, when I was still living at my parents’ in Kent. It said they were looking for people with ’No previous experience necessary’, which came in handy since I’d never worked before; so I called them, and all I had to do was go on a training course, and then I get the job! I’m quite good on the telephone; I don’t have to see anyone I speak to, so I’m much more confident. Obviously, there are people around me in the office, but I don’t talk to them. It’s not the best wage in the world, but at least I’m doing something. Right? I don’t know for how long I’ll be in this job, but to be honest, I’m not sure what else I could do. I’m not good at much. Naomi, my friend, says I should try to set up my own Internet company; apparently she’s ’never seen anyone so IT literate’ as me. I don’t think so. I love computers, but I’m not better than anyone else. My Dad wanted me to take on his business, but I don’t really fancy being an undertaker. I’m even more scared of death than I am of life. That’s technically why I’m still alive. I don’t think anyone would care if I died.

by Deborah Espect ISBN 13: 978 1 84747 016 4
Published: 2006
Pages: 200

Description

This book portrays the emotional and psychological difficulties associated with mental illness. It gives you an insight into her insecurities and troubles. It gives you the feeling that you are not alone. You can relate to her emotional plight.

About the Author

Deborah Espect was born in France and now lives in London. She has been in an American magazine and is currently working on a screen play and some short stories. This book is a reflection of the emotional difficulties involved with mental illness.

Book Extract

Why won't they leave me alone? There's always something. Always someone. The postman, the neighbours, the colleagues, don't they understand? I don't need anyone! Leave me in peace! Maybe I should move away. Find myself a nice house with a big, inaccessible field, or a forest, in the middle of nowhere. I'd grow my own vegetables, have a couple of cows to milk and I'd never need to see people ever again. What do they want from me anyway? It's not like I have anything to give. Because that's the thing, isn't it? No one asks how you are, what you're doing, if you had a nice weekend, out of kindness. They expect you to ask them the same. Attention seekers! But I'm not like them. I don't go around begging 'Love me!' No wonder she has no friends, you probably think. Maybe I don't, but that's my choice. And I'm not completely alone, I have Naomi. We went to school together. Sometimes I think we only became friends because she didn't have anyone else to talk to either. Things haven't changed much since then. She used to be a complete nerd, and she still is. She's been at university for three years, doing a masters or something; I never went. I was planning to be a vet, but the thought of killing anything, by duty or accident, terrified me. So did the idea of having to deal with the owners of the animals.

Sometimes I wish I had gone to university. Now I could be something more interesting than working in a crappy telephone survey company. But I couldn't handle more years of reading, researching and exams, not knowing whether there would even be a job at the end of it. I got this one out of luck, really. I saw an advert in the papers three years ago, just after I'd finished my A 'Levels, when I was still living at my parents' in Kent. It said they were looking for people with 'No previous experience necessary', which came in handy since I'd never worked before; so I called them, and all I had to do was go on a training course, and then I get the job! I'm quite good on the telephone; I don't have to see anyone I speak to, so I'm much more confident. Obviously, there are people around me in the office, but I don't talk to them. It's not the best wage in the world, but at least I'm doing something. Right? I don't know for how long I'll be in this job, but to be honest, I'm not sure what else I could do. I'm not good at much.

Naomi, my friend, says I should try to set up my own Internet company; apparently she's 'never seen anyone so IT literate' as me. I don't think so. I love computers, but I'm not better than anyone else. My Dad wanted me to take on his business, but I don't really fancy being an undertaker. I'm even more scared of death than I am of life. That's technically why I'm still alive. I don't think anyone would care if I died.