I find myself alone now. Most of my family’s dead, the ones who’re alive are not the kind of people with whom I’d associate, my friends have turned out to be fool’s gold, so all I have are my thoughts.
And I’ve realised that everyone I’ve ever met, except for two therapists, has tried to change me.
My family did their best to raise me as a soulless tool, existing solely for performance and to bolster my family’s public image - I have been their greatest failure.
My friends have tried to shape me into what they wanted me to be, either a heartless dick, a thoughtless prick, or just a door mat. To them, I either feel too much, think too much, or just hold the wrong beliefs.
My exes have never tried to get to know the real me, not a single one. My latest ex started trying to change how I dress and see the world not even three months into dating.
And now I just can’t bring myself to trust anyone. Every attempt at being open and vulnerable with people has ended up with them dragging mud all across my soul. I am terrified of people. I am terrified of even trying. And I’m terrified of this deep yearning for connection which has become a constant ache in my chest, because I’ve been around for thirty fucking years and I’m as alone as I’ve ever been.
Why are you friends with people you don’t like? Why are you dating people who don’t actually know you? This seems like a problem of your own making.
Believe me when I say every interaction was started with the belief that they were people who could understand me. I liked them. The problems started showing up later on, usually slowly, gradually, and every time they became obvious I ceased the interactions.
I broke it off with my best friend after over a decade because our political and social views started diverging majorly during the past couple of years.
I stopped dating my latest ex a couple of months after the pattern started popping up, once it became clear that she didn’t want me as I was. I stuck around those extra months because I had to make sure I wasn’t just exaggerating.
Maybe I just have bad luck. Maybe I have a subconscious sense for future disappointment and I gravitate toward it. I don’t know. All I know is I don’t intentionally pick the people who are wrong for me. Quite the contrary, I am possibly too selective in my interactions precisely because my parents and extended family have burnt me. I’ve even tried deep-diving into this aspect during therapy, but we concluded that I did not seek out the toxicity intentionally - with two separate therapists, the ones I’ve mentioned were the exceptions.