Hey, I've been lurking this site for years and I've finally decided to make an account. So this is an introduction of sorts. I'm also venting/telling my story. I dunno, really. I'll just jump straight into it.
My life has been nothing but a clusterfuck of mistakes. I'm 21 and I have *no* education (not even high school and barely even grade school), *no* social experience, tons of trauma and mental illness, no family, no friends. You know, the whole shebang. Everything that could ever possibly be wrong, is.
My parents, namely my mother, neglected me from an early age. She had a lot of skeletons in her closet as well and I don't think she meant to; she's endured parental abuse and rejection herself, her husband before my time was so abusive that she has old stab wounds from him, she was hit by a train and had to have all of her teeth removed in her 30s and so on. I think she wanted the best for me and I genuinely believe she thought she could create a new life for the both of us. I may have been an accident, but she thought I was a miracle.
But unfortunately, life doesn't play out like that. She had too many unresolved issues to parent properly and she got together with my stepfather (as my biological dad was a one night stand) who molested me since before I was old enough to tell anyone about it. On top of that, I was cursed with aspergers and my mom was trying to raise me in the countryside, so that I could have a healthier, natural life. Which is great! When your kid is normal...
I didn't have any siblings nor any neighboring kids to socialize with, so my only source of interaction with people who were not adults was at school, which I refused to go to. See, because I didn't regularly deal with other children, I thought they sucked. Even if they were nice, even if I made friends with them, I didn't like how rowdy and loud they were. I didn't like how rude they were, I didn't like how gross they were. I preferred to be by myself, playing with our dogs and observing wildlife, looking at picture books .etc.
Eventually this developed into an actual social phobia somewhere around the time I started to become more aware of my body and its appearance. I felt inadequate and I think it was because I was sexually abused more than anything because not only did it begin at a stupid young age, but other kids didn't think I was ugly. I was never bullied. I just decided one day I was hideous and deformed and I couldn't stand going to school so much that I went to extremes, like jumping out of the car and standing in the hallway & refusing to enter class ALL DAY, to avoid it.
My mom tried to get me to go, she tried to deal with me rationally, but she had her own demons to fight and gave up. She became distant and emotionally neglectful. She pretended to homeschool me and I ran feral. Despite that, I was a smart kid. I always was - what I didn't know in math, spelling .etc., I made up for with common sense and the ability to learn from observations (what adults are doing, animals), media (I loved documentaries, discovery channel, history channel & grownup shows like South Park & I was actually able to extract a lot from them without using the knowledge in inappropriate contexts).
Whenever I was forced to be with other kids, I actually found that *I* was the mature one in a group - I'd "preserve" the innocence of other kids whenever the topics of sex, genitals, where babies come from .etc. came up and it became evident they didn't already know. Sometimes when I was in the hallway, other kids would come out and try to join me because they were being made fun of for something stupid (ex: liking a certain cartoon) and I'd reassure them and tell them to go back to class. Other kids also would come to me with questions about things. I was unintentionally an older sibling, it seems like.
I also knew when to tell teachers things and when not to because I knew on some level that my parents were shitty parents and some of what they did wasn't normal. I regularly impressed adults. They couldn't believe I was supposedly autistic and some of my teachers didn't think I actually had any learning difficulties (I likely actually didn't, but that was the narrative at the time). They seemed to have some idea that something else was going on, but they couldn't put their finger on it and I wasn't willing to tell anyone I was being abused, unfortunately.
Eventually my mom got together with my biological father and ditched my stepfather for unrelated reasons, as she didn't know. I was eleven or twelve at this point and any sense of normalcy soon disappeared because my stepdad WAS my dad as far I was concerned, and this pretty much had the impact of divorce. To top it off, my biological dad was an ex-biker and he was abusive in an entirely different way. He was violent. He was loud. He was easily angered. I couldn't deal with that from a stranger and I retreated to my room.
I became addicted to the internet and learned to read/write as a consequence of using it as an escape. I didn't leave even to eat - food had to be brought to me. I managed to make some online friends, had some good times you know?, but I was miserable. The withdrawal made the anxiety worse and I decided I'd kill myself when I was eighteen. I knew life was gonna suck and I felt even uglier than before.
Fast forward to age fourteen, I attempted suicide for the first time. My mother, who was completely ok with me living in my bedroom and never speaking to her up until this point, suddenly sprung into action. After I left the psych ward, she tried to force me to interact socially with peers again. She tried to get me back into school. When I finally told her about what my stepdad did, she was remorseful and caring. It was like a wake up call for her, so I started to become more optimistic.
But I wasn't able to do the things she wanted me to do so quickly. I couldn't find the motivation to do schoolwork, either. Eventually this led to conflict, more suicide and self harm attempts, and repeated stays in psych wards. I was medicated with all kinds of shit, I was put into therapy, and I resisted all of it because it wasn't helpful. Add to that my mother's attempts to appease me by lying to me about cosmetic surgery and Abilify turning my unfounded fears and insecurities about being fat into reality (went from 102 lbs to 340 lbs within two years and I had no idea it was the Abilify making me so damn hungry, so I thought I was a fucking pig) and, well, she gave up again.
Now I'm an adult, still living with her (I was homeless for awhile, though - fun!) and my biological father left when I was seventeen, which she still blames me for. I've been isolated for years, I have no shared experiences with 99% of the population so I am unable to make conversation, let alone friends, and I've basically spent my entire life waiting on some nonexistent savior to come rescue me. For awhile, I thought it would be my mother. I know, in retrospect, that was stupid.
I know, I know. I hear it all the time.
I know now that in life, you're supposed to just save yourself. You're supposed to figure out shit on your own. And we all know life is unfair, but it's just so upsetting. I'm merely a burden now, the resources that exist for me as an adult are even worse than what was available to me as a child because I'm not cute anymore. I don't matter anymore. I'm expected to have everything together and if I want someone to care about me, I better have something to offer them.
No one cares about your past. They don't care about what you were, they don't care about what you could have been. They don't even care about any potential you might currently have. You're either valuable or you're not. But I learned this too late and so I've come here to spend my days until I CTB.
The maddening thing about all of this is now that I'm older, I have a lot more clarity. I still hate my body, for example, but I've lost a lot of weight and I am more rational in my critique. I feel like I *could* be attractive - I'm not actually straight up ugly. If I were to get breast reduction/breast lift surgery, invest in some good skincare, workout and lose a bit of weight, I think I could actually be pretty. I can even afford it.
But what would being pretty even do for me at this point? I'm so mentally fucked up, it's basically too late. I'm exhausted and incapable of change. I will never be able to have any kind of meaningful relationship, romantic or otherwise, and I would never be able to improve enough to be a good parent. Which, as selfish as that might be, is a big deal to me because that's basically all I want in life unfortunately.
I don't have it in me to be some kind of girl bossing, high achieving businesswoman or whatever normal, well adjusted people consider successful. I literally just want to be a housewife and make babies. Those are my "ambitions", other than the bare minimum of being cared about by some living soul in general. I think it's because of the long term isolation. I've been reduced to the minimum of desires, so all that's left are basic, universal, instinctual ones. That, and I also feel like an outsider looking in at the society I'm not apart of and I genuinely just don't see the value in a lot of things that normal people do, but I digress.
My life has been nothing but a clusterfuck of mistakes. I'm 21 and I have *no* education (not even high school and barely even grade school), *no* social experience, tons of trauma and mental illness, no family, no friends. You know, the whole shebang. Everything that could ever possibly be wrong, is.
My parents, namely my mother, neglected me from an early age. She had a lot of skeletons in her closet as well and I don't think she meant to; she's endured parental abuse and rejection herself, her husband before my time was so abusive that she has old stab wounds from him, she was hit by a train and had to have all of her teeth removed in her 30s and so on. I think she wanted the best for me and I genuinely believe she thought she could create a new life for the both of us. I may have been an accident, but she thought I was a miracle.
But unfortunately, life doesn't play out like that. She had too many unresolved issues to parent properly and she got together with my stepfather (as my biological dad was a one night stand) who molested me since before I was old enough to tell anyone about it. On top of that, I was cursed with aspergers and my mom was trying to raise me in the countryside, so that I could have a healthier, natural life. Which is great! When your kid is normal...
I didn't have any siblings nor any neighboring kids to socialize with, so my only source of interaction with people who were not adults was at school, which I refused to go to. See, because I didn't regularly deal with other children, I thought they sucked. Even if they were nice, even if I made friends with them, I didn't like how rowdy and loud they were. I didn't like how rude they were, I didn't like how gross they were. I preferred to be by myself, playing with our dogs and observing wildlife, looking at picture books .etc.
Eventually this developed into an actual social phobia somewhere around the time I started to become more aware of my body and its appearance. I felt inadequate and I think it was because I was sexually abused more than anything because not only did it begin at a stupid young age, but other kids didn't think I was ugly. I was never bullied. I just decided one day I was hideous and deformed and I couldn't stand going to school so much that I went to extremes, like jumping out of the car and standing in the hallway & refusing to enter class ALL DAY, to avoid it.
My mom tried to get me to go, she tried to deal with me rationally, but she had her own demons to fight and gave up. She became distant and emotionally neglectful. She pretended to homeschool me and I ran feral. Despite that, I was a smart kid. I always was - what I didn't know in math, spelling .etc., I made up for with common sense and the ability to learn from observations (what adults are doing, animals), media (I loved documentaries, discovery channel, history channel & grownup shows like South Park & I was actually able to extract a lot from them without using the knowledge in inappropriate contexts).
Whenever I was forced to be with other kids, I actually found that *I* was the mature one in a group - I'd "preserve" the innocence of other kids whenever the topics of sex, genitals, where babies come from .etc. came up and it became evident they didn't already know. Sometimes when I was in the hallway, other kids would come out and try to join me because they were being made fun of for something stupid (ex: liking a certain cartoon) and I'd reassure them and tell them to go back to class. Other kids also would come to me with questions about things. I was unintentionally an older sibling, it seems like.
I also knew when to tell teachers things and when not to because I knew on some level that my parents were shitty parents and some of what they did wasn't normal. I regularly impressed adults. They couldn't believe I was supposedly autistic and some of my teachers didn't think I actually had any learning difficulties (I likely actually didn't, but that was the narrative at the time). They seemed to have some idea that something else was going on, but they couldn't put their finger on it and I wasn't willing to tell anyone I was being abused, unfortunately.
Eventually my mom got together with my biological father and ditched my stepfather for unrelated reasons, as she didn't know. I was eleven or twelve at this point and any sense of normalcy soon disappeared because my stepdad WAS my dad as far I was concerned, and this pretty much had the impact of divorce. To top it off, my biological dad was an ex-biker and he was abusive in an entirely different way. He was violent. He was loud. He was easily angered. I couldn't deal with that from a stranger and I retreated to my room.
I became addicted to the internet and learned to read/write as a consequence of using it as an escape. I didn't leave even to eat - food had to be brought to me. I managed to make some online friends, had some good times you know?, but I was miserable. The withdrawal made the anxiety worse and I decided I'd kill myself when I was eighteen. I knew life was gonna suck and I felt even uglier than before.
Fast forward to age fourteen, I attempted suicide for the first time. My mother, who was completely ok with me living in my bedroom and never speaking to her up until this point, suddenly sprung into action. After I left the psych ward, she tried to force me to interact socially with peers again. She tried to get me back into school. When I finally told her about what my stepdad did, she was remorseful and caring. It was like a wake up call for her, so I started to become more optimistic.
But I wasn't able to do the things she wanted me to do so quickly. I couldn't find the motivation to do schoolwork, either. Eventually this led to conflict, more suicide and self harm attempts, and repeated stays in psych wards. I was medicated with all kinds of shit, I was put into therapy, and I resisted all of it because it wasn't helpful. Add to that my mother's attempts to appease me by lying to me about cosmetic surgery and Abilify turning my unfounded fears and insecurities about being fat into reality (went from 102 lbs to 340 lbs within two years and I had no idea it was the Abilify making me so damn hungry, so I thought I was a fucking pig) and, well, she gave up again.
Now I'm an adult, still living with her (I was homeless for awhile, though - fun!) and my biological father left when I was seventeen, which she still blames me for. I've been isolated for years, I have no shared experiences with 99% of the population so I am unable to make conversation, let alone friends, and I've basically spent my entire life waiting on some nonexistent savior to come rescue me. For awhile, I thought it would be my mother. I know, in retrospect, that was stupid.
I know, I know. I hear it all the time.
I know now that in life, you're supposed to just save yourself. You're supposed to figure out shit on your own. And we all know life is unfair, but it's just so upsetting. I'm merely a burden now, the resources that exist for me as an adult are even worse than what was available to me as a child because I'm not cute anymore. I don't matter anymore. I'm expected to have everything together and if I want someone to care about me, I better have something to offer them.
No one cares about your past. They don't care about what you were, they don't care about what you could have been. They don't even care about any potential you might currently have. You're either valuable or you're not. But I learned this too late and so I've come here to spend my days until I CTB.
The maddening thing about all of this is now that I'm older, I have a lot more clarity. I still hate my body, for example, but I've lost a lot of weight and I am more rational in my critique. I feel like I *could* be attractive - I'm not actually straight up ugly. If I were to get breast reduction/breast lift surgery, invest in some good skincare, workout and lose a bit of weight, I think I could actually be pretty. I can even afford it.
But what would being pretty even do for me at this point? I'm so mentally fucked up, it's basically too late. I'm exhausted and incapable of change. I will never be able to have any kind of meaningful relationship, romantic or otherwise, and I would never be able to improve enough to be a good parent. Which, as selfish as that might be, is a big deal to me because that's basically all I want in life unfortunately.
I don't have it in me to be some kind of girl bossing, high achieving businesswoman or whatever normal, well adjusted people consider successful. I literally just want to be a housewife and make babies. Those are my "ambitions", other than the bare minimum of being cared about by some living soul in general. I think it's because of the long term isolation. I've been reduced to the minimum of desires, so all that's left are basic, universal, instinctual ones. That, and I also feel like an outsider looking in at the society I'm not apart of and I genuinely just don't see the value in a lot of things that normal people do, but I digress.
Last edited:
