if_i_make_it
New Member
- Apr 30, 2026
- 4
I have always been shy and reclusive. But I'm pretty lively when I'm comfortable with people. Puberty and gender dysphoria super exacerbated the distance I created between myself and others. Got to a point I would have panic attacks thinking about making new friends because everything just felt like a lie. (I'm a lot farther on the other side of transition now, though, I have a full beard and I just got top surgery, I just need to change my legal name). I have severe anxiety and severe chronic pain and fatigue. It's made my trajectory in life very different than my peers. I'm 24 and never really been able to work, didn't finish college, no car, can't drive. I can't really do anything. I always feel like I'm watching life from behind 1 way glass.
It starts with my parents. If my siblings were picking on and I asked my mom to make them stop, she'd just throw her hands up and tell me to deal with it myself. Any time I told her about a mental or physical problem I had, she would brush it off, not take it seriously. Around middle school I recognized I had severe anxiety (that I had since I was born) and would see and be told that if I have a problem, I can speak to my parents. So I did. and they just didn't care. Brushed it off, mocked me, ignored me, yelled at me. I tried over and over and over again, working myself up the courage and trying to find the right words that would suddenly make them care and get me help. It didn't work until one night I told them I wanted to die and they needed to take me to the hospital. It wasn't even the first time I'd wanted to. I just needed things to change. In response my dad got angry and threw a knife at the ground in front of me. I got some help, which included therapy, that my mother later stopped rescheduling for me without telling me. The only help I had, the only adult that listened to me, just taken away callously. I mean I really could write a novel on how awfully my parents have treated me. It's very painful and I have nightmares about it all the time, where I'm screaming and wailing and no one cares.
I lost my friends from high school because they didn't really care about me. My siblings are fine fair weather friends, but they have their own lives and don't want to have to help me. I'm about to be homeless, fully on the street with no where to go. I have a severe chronic illness and the social safety nets just aren't here to help me in the timely manner I need. My mother won't take me in. Close family friend won't take me in. Aunt won't take me in. It's the same song and dance every time. People who say they love and care about me turning around when I need their help. Time and time again. I'm not even like, a belligerent and difficult person. I'm so quiet, I keep to myself, I'm terrified of inconveniencing others. I don't do drugs or keep bad company. They just ... don't care. Or don't care in the way I need them to. Just proven wrong about this assumption of unconditional love over and over and over again. I'm tired of it.
I bounce back and forth between feeling comfort that they won't care when I ctb, or anger that they will be saddened and traumatized by it. Maybe it's just a cruel joke I keep falling for to believe anyone feels anything about me.
It starts with my parents. If my siblings were picking on and I asked my mom to make them stop, she'd just throw her hands up and tell me to deal with it myself. Any time I told her about a mental or physical problem I had, she would brush it off, not take it seriously. Around middle school I recognized I had severe anxiety (that I had since I was born) and would see and be told that if I have a problem, I can speak to my parents. So I did. and they just didn't care. Brushed it off, mocked me, ignored me, yelled at me. I tried over and over and over again, working myself up the courage and trying to find the right words that would suddenly make them care and get me help. It didn't work until one night I told them I wanted to die and they needed to take me to the hospital. It wasn't even the first time I'd wanted to. I just needed things to change. In response my dad got angry and threw a knife at the ground in front of me. I got some help, which included therapy, that my mother later stopped rescheduling for me without telling me. The only help I had, the only adult that listened to me, just taken away callously. I mean I really could write a novel on how awfully my parents have treated me. It's very painful and I have nightmares about it all the time, where I'm screaming and wailing and no one cares.
I lost my friends from high school because they didn't really care about me. My siblings are fine fair weather friends, but they have their own lives and don't want to have to help me. I'm about to be homeless, fully on the street with no where to go. I have a severe chronic illness and the social safety nets just aren't here to help me in the timely manner I need. My mother won't take me in. Close family friend won't take me in. Aunt won't take me in. It's the same song and dance every time. People who say they love and care about me turning around when I need their help. Time and time again. I'm not even like, a belligerent and difficult person. I'm so quiet, I keep to myself, I'm terrified of inconveniencing others. I don't do drugs or keep bad company. They just ... don't care. Or don't care in the way I need them to. Just proven wrong about this assumption of unconditional love over and over and over again. I'm tired of it.
I bounce back and forth between feeling comfort that they won't care when I ctb, or anger that they will be saddened and traumatized by it. Maybe it's just a cruel joke I keep falling for to believe anyone feels anything about me.
