Hi, I'm new here. I googled for "I'm so lonely" and found this site. I read other people's stories and realized (again) I'm not alone feeling this way.
I'm 27 now, and I live in Oregon. I was adopted as an infant, supposedly. Socializing has always been hard for me, though I had a relatively good reason when I was younger.
I guess I've been through two really toxic relationships. First, my "mom" was a seriously manipulative and abusive person. She used to tell me that no one would ever love me. She told me my dad raped her often, but that she stayed with him "because of me". She was often physically abusive. She ruined a nice relationship I had with a young woman because she was jealous. One day she blamed me for feeling sick. It turns out she had contracted HIV, and it had finally become symptomatic. She told me I was adopted when I was 15. I came to realize just how ****ed up she was, so I locked myself in my room for about four years. Since it was "her house, her rules", and nothing was allowed, I did nothing except hide what my life was really like from everybody.
I chose a college 4,000 miles away. When I got to there, I decided that I would be the kind of person I always wanted to be. And it was okay. I decided to study the hardest subject the college offered. I had friends, women were interested in me, I was respected by my professors and peers. I still found it hard to connect with people, but at least there were plenty of people around to try it with. As scared as I was, it was nothing compared to being in that house. So I did it all.
I visited Florida again during Christmas break during my freshman year, but it was just more of the same. "Do what I say, NOW. Don't expect to do anything but what I say. You're not allowed to feel anything unless I say it's okay." Seriously. She said that I wasn't allowed to be mad at her. It was even worse than being in high school, since I could see my freedom slipping away. I spent about a week in my room, and I told her I would never come back.
So she decided to move to Oregon. She moved into MY apartment -- I didn't have much choice considering that we had always been poor, and there was a recession going on (so there were no summer jobs available) It was okay for a while. I lived a few blocks away from campus, so I could at least get out of the house. She COULDN'T STAND not being able to pull "my house my rules". But then my apartment was burglarized, and she insisted we move. (To be honest, I couldn't help but suspect she had something to do with it. She had done similar things before. It's implausible though, since she couldn't have known any area criminals.) Suddenly, I was a "guest" in HER house again. Worse yet, it was over five miles away from campus. She had promised that she would take me to campus "whenever I wanted", but she broke that promise within a few minutes of making it. It is absurd how far she went to be a pain in the ass. One time, I made plans with her ahead of time to visit some friends. When she dropped me off, she told me she was cutting my visit short, by two hours, because she had nothing to do in the city. So I had to miss out on going swimming with my friends. But of course, she shows up two hours late. She decided to go watch a movie. I sat alone in their living room for two hours. She wouldn't accept that she messed up my plans. She blamed my friends, saying I couldn't have gone swimming because I didn't have a towel. ... My friends felt sorry for me, which is what I had been trying to avoid the most. At least I knew they cared.
Between the time I left for college and then, she met a man and married him. (Actually, the wedding was during that Christmas break I mentioned) I warned the guy that she's messed up, that he didn't know what he was getting himself into. He married her anyway, and moved to Oregon with her. He was actually really nice, and had a very high opinion of me. But he wasn't strong enough to deal with her control. He ended up getting anorexia and died. No joke. A normal 50 year old man with two kids, smothered. After he died, she became physically abusive to me. I talked to a friend, and he offered to let me stay at his place until I got myself on my feet. I ended up couch surfing for a while, but I was pretty happy. I lived with a pair of brothers, and other assorted friends, and eventually moved into the house "officially". It was nice to live with a family-like group.
One day, my mom tracked me down, and showed up at my door. It turns out that she threatened a friend of mine until he gave her my address. She tried to force her way into my house, and claimed that I was "making a scene." (I'M MAKING A SCENE? YOU'RE TRYING TO PUSH YOUR WAY INTO MY HOUSE.) She left a few minutes later, but not before threatening the friend I am about to mention. Then she followed me in her car, slowly, as I walked to the bus stop to go to work.
I met a nice girl, and I fell in love with her. I courted her for quite a while, and she finally told me she loved me, wanted to be with me forever, wanted to start a "real" relationship. I was really happy. A week later, I went on a business trip, and she cheated on me. We talked about it, and she said she wouldn't do it again. But she did, and she rubbed my face in it. She wouldn't even acknowledge what she had said about starting a relationship. She told me she had been using me, and that it was my fault I believed her. She literally spit in my face.
I went home and punched the wall over and over again, until I broke my hand. I was sobbing. I cried for hours, every day, for over a year. After a period in denial, I didn't talk to her for years.
It hasn't all been bad. I met somebody else at one point, and we got along really well. We had a sort-of fling -- it wasn't what either of us wanted, but circumstance got in the way of starting a permanent relationship. I can live with that. We were really happy while it lasted, and we parted ways with smiles on our faces.
I met someone else, and we gave it a go. In the end, she told me to stay away, saying that I was too closed and possibly crazy, like I have a dark secret that scared her. I didn't take that so well. I told her part of this story, in vague terms, and she started feeling sorry for me. Then she understood why I don't share my past with anyone. I was hurt still. The first girl had said things like that too. And my mom always told me no one would ever love me. I started feeling fundamentally unlovable. Eventually, I started drinking to excess and lost my job. I started lying to friends, so that I could be alone.
And now, I've moved to a new city. Women are openly calling me ugly. One asked to be my friend, and in the same breath, asked to borrow money (with a damn rosary as "collateral"). Maybe she'll return my $20. It would be nice if somebody actually kept their promise.
I'm 27 now, and I live in Oregon. I was adopted as an infant, supposedly. Socializing has always been hard for me, though I had a relatively good reason when I was younger.
I guess I've been through two really toxic relationships. First, my "mom" was a seriously manipulative and abusive person. She used to tell me that no one would ever love me. She told me my dad raped her often, but that she stayed with him "because of me". She was often physically abusive. She ruined a nice relationship I had with a young woman because she was jealous. One day she blamed me for feeling sick. It turns out she had contracted HIV, and it had finally become symptomatic. She told me I was adopted when I was 15. I came to realize just how ****ed up she was, so I locked myself in my room for about four years. Since it was "her house, her rules", and nothing was allowed, I did nothing except hide what my life was really like from everybody.
I chose a college 4,000 miles away. When I got to there, I decided that I would be the kind of person I always wanted to be. And it was okay. I decided to study the hardest subject the college offered. I had friends, women were interested in me, I was respected by my professors and peers. I still found it hard to connect with people, but at least there were plenty of people around to try it with. As scared as I was, it was nothing compared to being in that house. So I did it all.
I visited Florida again during Christmas break during my freshman year, but it was just more of the same. "Do what I say, NOW. Don't expect to do anything but what I say. You're not allowed to feel anything unless I say it's okay." Seriously. She said that I wasn't allowed to be mad at her. It was even worse than being in high school, since I could see my freedom slipping away. I spent about a week in my room, and I told her I would never come back.
So she decided to move to Oregon. She moved into MY apartment -- I didn't have much choice considering that we had always been poor, and there was a recession going on (so there were no summer jobs available) It was okay for a while. I lived a few blocks away from campus, so I could at least get out of the house. She COULDN'T STAND not being able to pull "my house my rules". But then my apartment was burglarized, and she insisted we move. (To be honest, I couldn't help but suspect she had something to do with it. She had done similar things before. It's implausible though, since she couldn't have known any area criminals.) Suddenly, I was a "guest" in HER house again. Worse yet, it was over five miles away from campus. She had promised that she would take me to campus "whenever I wanted", but she broke that promise within a few minutes of making it. It is absurd how far she went to be a pain in the ass. One time, I made plans with her ahead of time to visit some friends. When she dropped me off, she told me she was cutting my visit short, by two hours, because she had nothing to do in the city. So I had to miss out on going swimming with my friends. But of course, she shows up two hours late. She decided to go watch a movie. I sat alone in their living room for two hours. She wouldn't accept that she messed up my plans. She blamed my friends, saying I couldn't have gone swimming because I didn't have a towel. ... My friends felt sorry for me, which is what I had been trying to avoid the most. At least I knew they cared.
Between the time I left for college and then, she met a man and married him. (Actually, the wedding was during that Christmas break I mentioned) I warned the guy that she's messed up, that he didn't know what he was getting himself into. He married her anyway, and moved to Oregon with her. He was actually really nice, and had a very high opinion of me. But he wasn't strong enough to deal with her control. He ended up getting anorexia and died. No joke. A normal 50 year old man with two kids, smothered. After he died, she became physically abusive to me. I talked to a friend, and he offered to let me stay at his place until I got myself on my feet. I ended up couch surfing for a while, but I was pretty happy. I lived with a pair of brothers, and other assorted friends, and eventually moved into the house "officially". It was nice to live with a family-like group.
One day, my mom tracked me down, and showed up at my door. It turns out that she threatened a friend of mine until he gave her my address. She tried to force her way into my house, and claimed that I was "making a scene." (I'M MAKING A SCENE? YOU'RE TRYING TO PUSH YOUR WAY INTO MY HOUSE.) She left a few minutes later, but not before threatening the friend I am about to mention. Then she followed me in her car, slowly, as I walked to the bus stop to go to work.
I met a nice girl, and I fell in love with her. I courted her for quite a while, and she finally told me she loved me, wanted to be with me forever, wanted to start a "real" relationship. I was really happy. A week later, I went on a business trip, and she cheated on me. We talked about it, and she said she wouldn't do it again. But she did, and she rubbed my face in it. She wouldn't even acknowledge what she had said about starting a relationship. She told me she had been using me, and that it was my fault I believed her. She literally spit in my face.
I went home and punched the wall over and over again, until I broke my hand. I was sobbing. I cried for hours, every day, for over a year. After a period in denial, I didn't talk to her for years.
It hasn't all been bad. I met somebody else at one point, and we got along really well. We had a sort-of fling -- it wasn't what either of us wanted, but circumstance got in the way of starting a permanent relationship. I can live with that. We were really happy while it lasted, and we parted ways with smiles on our faces.
I met someone else, and we gave it a go. In the end, she told me to stay away, saying that I was too closed and possibly crazy, like I have a dark secret that scared her. I didn't take that so well. I told her part of this story, in vague terms, and she started feeling sorry for me. Then she understood why I don't share my past with anyone. I was hurt still. The first girl had said things like that too. And my mom always told me no one would ever love me. I started feeling fundamentally unlovable. Eventually, I started drinking to excess and lost my job. I started lying to friends, so that I could be alone.
And now, I've moved to a new city. Women are openly calling me ugly. One asked to be my friend, and in the same breath, asked to borrow money (with a damn rosary as "collateral"). Maybe she'll return my $20. It would be nice if somebody actually kept their promise.
