Words for your face

[Adam]

I'm not entirely sure where to post this, so I'm putting it here.

After having a particularly bad weekend that had me feeling left out and without a friend in the world, this came pouring out. In hindsight, the scariest part is that even after all of it hit my screen, I could still go back and add more.

I feel compelled to share it because two people called me brave for posting this on Facebook. I didn't quite agree, but appreciated their sentiments.

I struggle with ADD, anxiety, and surely a few other things. I hope maybe this helps someone out there.
About me:

My parents divorced when I was in kindergarten. It was very contentious. I bounced around between living with my mom and my dad for a bit, and wound up living with my dad.

In 2nd-3rd grade I learned how to play the violin, and had a paper route.

While living with my mom, we went roller skating around the neighborhood one day. She fell on the way home. She landed face first on the sidewalk. I started to panic when she didn’t get right back up. When she lifted her head, I saw blood on her forehead. I skated home as fast as I could and told my step dad where she was. I was inconsolable, convinced it was my fault that it happened.

While married to my brother’s mother, I was forced to leave the house and go downtown during the summer. I was in grade school. I spent my days at the library, at the mall, hanging out at the pet store, or just wandering around.

My dad couldn’t keep a job and couldn’t keep a roof over our heads. We moved at least once a year. I had another paper route that was taken away from me because he took my collection money from me and did not pay the newspaper.

I was “that kid”. The kid that my friends’ parents knew didn’t have a good home.

In 9th grade, we were evicted from our apartment. He used the basement storage area to hold our items, which were removed by the time we came back for them. We lived in local hotels for several weeks or months, and I missed the big 9th grade end of school year party at the local pool. Local churches helped pay for our rooms.

When I was 16, he decided we should move to Florida. We lived in a trailer on the edge of town, and I finished out the school year living with friends of his that moved into the trailer while he moved to Florida to get settled.

I was incredibly depressed my first year in Florida. I knew no one. I had no friends. I overslept and skipped school regularly. I ran up huge long distance bills. I didn’t have a bedroom. I slept in an area of the living room with sheets for walls.

I got my first job working at a local drug store. I was immediately paying rent.

More moves. More rent.

My dad had so many dysfunctional relationships. I learned to just keep away.

At 18 I was working a lot, going to night school to make up credits, and trying to finish high school. It got to be too much. I dropped out and got my G.E.D. College was no longer an option as far as I was concerned.

When I was 22, I had just gotten married, and after visiting my mom in Indiana, decided I wanted to move there. The process did not go smoothly. During my first year, my dad had his heart transplant and eventually moved in with us. This time he slept in the living rom. As time passed, he and my mom renewed their friendship. When I was 23, she died.

About 10 years later, my dad died. I was in my early 30s, and both of my parents were gone.

My grandmother died sometime after that, and my grandfather lived to be 90, I think. I did not get to see him during his final years. When he died, I briefly reconnected with my aunt. These are all on my mom’s side. On my dad’s side, I have had a wonderful adopted family that I never got to spend enough time with as they have lived in New Jersey.

As of now, my aunt lives in California. I have a brother who lives in Illinois, with two kids I’ve never met. And me…. I live alone with 2 dogs and a cat.

I think my original intention was to go somewhere else with these thoughts. I think I was originally going to sum them up and describe how I am now, but I don’t think i will. I think I will just let the words sit.
I was going to express my feelings about friendships and my utter inability to ever feel a part of anything.

I’ve been to a couple of wonderful weddings that both took the opportunity to celebrate the lives of the people getting married. They are such warm and wonderful images, and they are so foreign to me. I see happy families, life long friends who still hang out, and I wonder what that kind of life was like. What was it like to have just one or two homes growing up? What was it like to be able to call that same person you’ve known for 5-10-20 years and hang out? What was it like to have both parents at your wedding? What was it like to do things that made them proud?

My mom was an alcoholic, and my dad had more issues than I am even aware of, I’m sure.

My psychiatrist told me that much of what I dealt with growing up wired me to be the person I am today. In some ways that’s kind of cool. I’m definitely colorful, original, and unique. In other ways, it sucks. I’m smart. I’m talented. I could have done some great things.

Seeing photographs people share on Facebook is both wonderful and sad for me. People are leading these fun and vibrant lives, doing things I wish I could be doing. I certainly could be doing some.

On a recent visit to my psychiatrist, I think I talked about never feeling like I’m a part of something. When I watch a show or a movie that has a scene where people act selflessly to help someone else, I fight off tears. It’s a reminder of how disconnected I am from the rest of the world.

I struggle financially, so I do very little outside the house. I have to pick and choose my events carefully. I am still trying to get my house put back together in a way that I can feel comfortable inviting people over without being embarrassed. I’m still trying to get ME put back together after dealing with some pretty serious emotional trauma the last few years.

I’ve been on my own for a very long time. I was forced to be independent as a child, and that has carried through to adulthood. I don’t ask for help, but I offer it. It’s just what I do.

I’ve been a bad husband. Externally, I think I must seem emotionless quite often. I’ve tried to grow and change, and i have, only to find out there are more ways for me to grow and change.

I’ve almost been a dad twice. I suffered through a still born baby, and a miscarriage. I will never forget either experience.

So I guess that’s part of what makes me me. I guess I did describe a bit of how I am now. It was really inevitable now, wasn’t it?

[IdentityPoltergeist]

As I read this, what jumped out at me first was how very matter-of-fact you speak of these horribly traumatic experiences. Distant, like you're describing something somewhere far off, something you aren't at all emotionally affected by. It is brave of you to start opening up about these experiences, it's a start, but the truly courageous thing will be learning how to emotionally connect to them.

Pushing emotions down was your way of protecting yourself then, of being the adult when you shouldn't have been, but it's so psychologically damaging. And damaging to your relationships now. Learning how to connect your emotions to your experiences and to your life will be excruciatingly difficult, particularly because you've been disconnected for so long, but will have many rewards as well and bring new life to your relationships with others. If you aren't getting help from a therapist for this, for the sake of your mental health and your marriage (and any children you might have!), I really encourage you to do so.

There is so much buried pain here. You didn't deserve this. Poverty is one thing but having to grow up so soon, be the adult, grow up with no sense of trust or security? No child deserves that. I'm so sorry you had to experience that. Keep writing and try to get a sense of empathy for your child self as you put this to paper. I do think writing and writin exercises will be a big help in this process. Maybe even google "writing exercises to reconnect with emotions" or something like that.

[iknewiwascrazy]

Your story touched me. I am sorry for all the loss you have endured. I can so relate to not feeling like a part of anything, I feel that way often even when I am with family and friends. I have to force myself to be social in fear of losing the 1 or 2 friends I have. You said you were a bad husband...relationships are hard, it's even harder when they don't work out. I too find myself crying when I see something on tv or a movie that seems so unattainable and yet I desperately want. Facebook is fake. I have one so I guess that makes me fake too. You matter, your life has value, you don't have to be anything other than who you are. Thank you for sharing your story it was well written and you are awesome.