Life changes. As you know I have the "social" thing, aka a social support contact group who's tied into the socio-mental health-care system. Basically, people who check in on me regularly, make sure I don't vegetate or degenerate into a local amoeba and act as a catalyst to make me do things. It involves knocking on my door, and pushing me into function, making sure I don't just hide from everything and feel crap, and slamming me to eat/shop and so on in case I get into a slump.

Most of the time its trivial things, just the knowledge that someone will knock on your door tomorrow can be enough to look things over, other times its much more practical things. (Hi, you need a new vacuum cleaner. Now, lets go.)

When its about appointments and such, it's about making times, and doing the contacts, things that I just curl up and angst about for days at an end, it helps a lot to just leave it on them and have it sorted. Means the things actually get done, even if it smashes your pride and self-worth a lot.

However, when one of the new contact people turn out to be a teeny-bop, you just feel like a complete and utter failure in the face of society.

Right, suicide lane is which way, again?