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Messages - MakeGandalfGreatAgain

#1
I'm single and haven't been in a relationship or gone on a date in ten years. I haven't had any real friendships either. I have trust issues and feel like it would be difficult to explain to other people why I'm not doing more with my life. Maybe that's just because my family always put expectations on me even after I became mentally/physically sick. Another obstacle was my mother, who I've been living with. Based on past experience, I know that whoever I chose to be around wouldn't be good enough for my mother, so my decision to associate with them would be judged.

I've only ever worked low-paying jobs. Earlier this year, I had to go on non-paid medical leave. I'm not making any money, but I also finally got out of my mother's place. (She kicked me out, but I also wanted to leave; I won't go into detail because I'm trying to keep this post brief.) I thought that things would get better when I got away from my mother, but it seems like little really changed. I find myself being unable to care about my future. The idea of doing job interviews always terrifies me.

The other day, I was reading about a growing trend of younger men dating older women. Among other reasons, it is because older women can provide more financial stability. I never really considered dating someone older than me. (There are so many unofficial "rules" my mother made that still reverberate around in my head.) Anyway, it got me thinking that maybe it's actually my best path forward.

The problem is that, in addition to all the things which prevent me from taking action, I have to wonder if this idea is dangerous. After all, wouldn't I be opening myself up to the same kind of manipulation which got me here in the first place? Is it crazy to think that there could be someone out there who would care to help me with my problems when no one else will?
#2
Please Introduce Yourself Here / Well Here I Am
September 25, 2024, 11:39:22 PM
Well, here I am. I've known I have CPTSD since early 2023, but until recently it never occurred to me to find a support community. It feels like I've been fighting a losing battle against my psychology, and I've come to realize that I'm just never going to win unless I get some help.

I didn't start putting the pieces together until 2022, when I started seeing a therapist again after many years. After my first six therapists didn't seem to help much, I had just given up. After getting my first non-minimum wage job (and I have a college degree, mind you), I eventually decided to find the right therapist and pay out of pocket. Since then, it feels like I have been reliving my life backwards and finding out everything that went wrong. So although it means going out-of-order from this standpoint, I'll start at the beginning for the purpose of narrative.

When I was born, my family was apparently quite poor. My father became unemployed and my mother worked two jobs. I was born the day before my family's health insurance would expire after my father was laid off. They had to induce me. When I was a toddler, my father joined the military and went overseas to Bosnia. That meant I spent most of my time with my grandmother. For all intents and purposes, she was my real mother. When I was five or six, my father got a new job and my family moved almost a thousand miles away. After that, I saw my grandmother about once every year.

I'm going to skip over the rest of my childhood because I'm not here to write a book. I'm guessing that my situation might already sound familiar to some people on the forum, and it probably comes as no surprise that I didn't have much of a relationship with my parents. At least, nothing real.

I will add one detail that is relevant, though: I grew up in a crazy, charismatic evangelical semi-cult. They regarded dating as something close to a sin, like everyone was supposed to wait for some miraculous revelation from God and then get married. I think for this reason my parents (although they didn't 100% agree with everything the church taught and had dated themselves in their twenties and thirties) didn't provide any guidance when it came to romantic relationships. They basically left it to the church, which just taught that sex before marriage is bad and if you avoid that, all will be well.

When I made it to college in 2010, then, I had very little understanding of how to navigate a relationship. Everyone around me had always given me the impression that if a relationship didn't work out, it could be considered a moral failure. What is more, I attended a very conservative college, so I had no suspicions that the people I would meet could have anything other than good intentions.

I didn't figure it out until I got back into therapy, but my first girlfriend was beyond a shadow of a doubt a covert narcissist. She wove an invisible web of lies and intrigue around me, determining what my activities would be and who my friends would be. She was physically and verbally abusive. The whole time, I went along with it because I had no standard of normal and thought that she just needed me to love her.

I'm not sure if I need to include a trigger warning for the rest of this, so skip this paragraph if you need to. We would make out for hours at a time because she wanted my to get addicted to her (and it worked). She actually broke up with me while we were making out. Then, we kept making out in secret. She kept stringing me along for months and months leading me to believe we were so close to finally getting back together. Eventually, I just couldn't take it any longer. I had met a very nice girl and decided to ask her to be my girlfriend. A few days before I asked her, I made out with my ex-girlfriend one more time just so that I could inform her of my next move while we were making out. I thought I was getting some kind of revenge. I had no idea how she would use it against me later. For a while, things seemed to be good. I didn't notice how my ex was always whispering in my friends' ears (my friends were, of course, her friends and she had always done that). Anyway, it came to the middle of junior year and we were looking toward the future. My girlfriend and I both wanted to go to graduate school, but none of the schools we were interested in were geographically close. I already knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but like a selfish idiot I thought that maybe if I held off a little longer, she would agree that my position was more reasonable. (My grades were better.) We were at a crucial moment, but suddenly the friends we relied on for advice and support were conspicuously absent. Despite everything that was going well, I found myself facing depression which I kept hidden. At this point, it had become a common experience to hear from my friends to tell me what a grumpy, antisocial stick-in-the-mud I was. One day, my girlfriend (possibly irritated that I hadn't proposed) joined their bandwagon. I got super depressed and took this to mean that she would be better off without me. I broke up with her. Then I got even more depressed. After about a week, my ex-girlfriend (the first one) made her move. We made out, just like all the other times we made out when we weren't really together. Except this time, she arranged that we would be caught. After that, the girl I loved and all my friends absolutely hated me. I got put on antidepressants, which only made my depression worse. I persevered for more than a year but got more stressed out the closer I got to graduation. Eventually, I lost the ability to concentrate on more than two sentences at a time, so I had to leave school (I eventually graduated with transferred credits).

I was thinking that after returning home, I might finally get the love and support that I needed; but instead, I was met with finger-pointing and skepticism. The church I grew up in viewed the study of psychology as highly questionable and taught that depression was usually the result of some kind of moral failure. My mother's way of trying to cure me was to take me to see our de-facto cult leader (known only as 'Pastor'). They concluded (probably because I was too intellectual) that I had the sin of pride. The other thing my mother did was to constantly remind me that I needed to find a job (which was the best way for her to make sure I did NOT find a job). My father didn't really get involved, which was basically his modus operandi my whole life.

My health suffered from all the trauma. I developed some kind of chronic illness. I thought at the time and do now that I might have Lyme disease. (My father got it a few years before I went to college but received treatment.) When I brought that up to my mother, she told me that I couldn't possibly have Lyme disease.

There's more, but this post has probably gone on long enough. Early this year, my health took a turn for the worse possible due to job-related stress. My symptoms have partly gone away on their own, but I never received adequate medical care despite actually having health insurance for once. This was due partly to the horribly flawed health care system and partly my own inability to advocate for myself. I've had to stop going to therapy until I can afford it. I should be looking for a new job (the old one was terrible anyway), but instead I've just been playing video games nonstop waiting for my money to run out. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get the ball rolling. The one good thing about it (maybe) is that it's made me realize how little power I really have on my own.