Hi.
I'm a guy in my early 30s. Born and raised in good old Cape Town, South Africa. But have move over to not so sunny London. And my entire life has been.... Interesting. That would probably be the best word to describe it. Not fun and definitely not boring. Kind of reminds me of the phrase, "may you live in interesting times." Cause that's me all over.
Here's a brief inside look into who and what I am.
I'm an only child, raised by a single parent. My mother was raped by her uncle when she was very young, and it was witnessed by her own mother. Needless to say, nothing was ever done about it and the subject was swept under the rug.
She had me when she was 28, and her entire family tried to get her to abort me and when that failed they later pushed for me to be put up for adoption. Didn't happen.
When I was 10 she contracted M.E, which coupled with sever depression spelt certain doom for both of us. I was her carer. I bathed her, fed her, helped her in and out of bed, dressed her, you name it. All of that at the age of 10.
As the years passed by her depression became more and more severe. By the time I was 14 she was declared clinically insane and was locked away in a mental asylum. I was left to my own devices.
The way things were working out, I started to suffer myself. I was self harming, taking drugs and school was not an option. I was spiralling out of control and I tried to take my own life at the age of 15, the first of many.
I was eventually taken in by my mother's sister and lived there for several months. Unfortunately that 'family' did not believe my mom, they refused to acknowledge depression as an illness, and had no concept about self mutilation. Needless to say, I did not stay with them for long, and have since shut them out of my life completely.
I eventually made my way back to Cape Town and to my mom. She had been released and was now living with a friend she had met in the loonybin. Lemme tell you living with one crazy person is taxing. Living with two is just.... Crazy. Drugs became more of an issue, I got involved in Satanism and crime. Just about anything really to take my mind off my life and everything in it.
By my 17 birthday I was arrested for breaking and entering. And was promptly placed in rehab. It worked for a while and I was clean for about a year. My mom went off the rails again and attempted suicide again. I've actually lost count how many times she tried to end her life. And unfortunately I was always the Muppet who would find her.
By the age of 19 I suffered a mental breakdown and was put into a crazy house for young people. I went nuts. I really did. And I was there for quite some time. Eventually when I got out, the first thing I did was to deliberately O.D and try to die. And I did. I was clinically dead for 3 min. I should have died, and even now at the age of 33 I sometimes wish I did.
I eventually pulled some of my life together with the help of some very close friends(who incidentally also had shitty lives)and I got a job as an animator in a good company. But my life was still a mess. I suffered from massive mood swings, sever bouts of depression and self harming still played a big part in my life.
When I was 25 I had my first contact with my father, who had moved to he UK when I was about 5. Turns out he had put my inheritance from his mother into an account for me, only to be accessed when I turned 25. I actually had enough money to actually do something with my life.
Now unfortunately at this time, my mom was again out of the asylum and drinking heavily, and I was currently in my first and only serious relationship with a girl who actually shared my own name Needless to say it all turned to honeysuckle. My girl-friend cheated on me, and my mom went mental again. And that was when I realised that the only way to survive was to leave it all behind me. Get out of the country and don't look back. Which is what I did. I got an ancestral visa and moved to London along with my best friend and soul mate(in a totally heterosexual way, mind you)
Fast forward several years and I'm now where I am. I am in a mediocre job as I've never had the opportunity to have a decent and stable education, which I'm fine with. But my best friend is now married. And I'm totally thrilled for him in every way possible. While I shied away from human contact and love, he looked for it in everyday possible. But while I'm stoked for my buddy, I find myself in a dark and lonely place. I yearn to be loved and to love someone, but I can't handle human contact. I know that eventually I will be hurt and I honestly can't take it again. I've had enough hurt and honeysuckle in my life. It's frustrating and infuriating. I can see what the problems are but I'm incapable of dealing with it. The funny thing is that I'm actually good looking(even though stress has turned all my hair snow white), and I get asked a lot by women why I'm still single.
And to top it all off, I'm faced with a catch22. Thinking ahead I know I will end my own life, that much is certain. But if I want love how can I possibly inflict that on someone else. I had it, and it sucked. I couldn't bring myself to put someone else through that.
So now I've come here asking for one simple thing. How do I break out of my bubble and actually deal with human contact. Cause so far, I have no ******* clue. I don't like hugging(and in this day and age, when someone, anyone tries to hug you and you shy away, it makes for weird vibes) and even if I sit next to a friend, ill sit as far away as possible.
/sigh
I apologize for the wall of text, and that's not even half of it. But I needed to get it off my chest, because if I don't...... Well, I don't know.
Thanks for reading.
I'm a guy in my early 30s. Born and raised in good old Cape Town, South Africa. But have move over to not so sunny London. And my entire life has been.... Interesting. That would probably be the best word to describe it. Not fun and definitely not boring. Kind of reminds me of the phrase, "may you live in interesting times." Cause that's me all over.
Here's a brief inside look into who and what I am.
I'm an only child, raised by a single parent. My mother was raped by her uncle when she was very young, and it was witnessed by her own mother. Needless to say, nothing was ever done about it and the subject was swept under the rug.
She had me when she was 28, and her entire family tried to get her to abort me and when that failed they later pushed for me to be put up for adoption. Didn't happen.
When I was 10 she contracted M.E, which coupled with sever depression spelt certain doom for both of us. I was her carer. I bathed her, fed her, helped her in and out of bed, dressed her, you name it. All of that at the age of 10.
As the years passed by her depression became more and more severe. By the time I was 14 she was declared clinically insane and was locked away in a mental asylum. I was left to my own devices.
The way things were working out, I started to suffer myself. I was self harming, taking drugs and school was not an option. I was spiralling out of control and I tried to take my own life at the age of 15, the first of many.
I was eventually taken in by my mother's sister and lived there for several months. Unfortunately that 'family' did not believe my mom, they refused to acknowledge depression as an illness, and had no concept about self mutilation. Needless to say, I did not stay with them for long, and have since shut them out of my life completely.
I eventually made my way back to Cape Town and to my mom. She had been released and was now living with a friend she had met in the loonybin. Lemme tell you living with one crazy person is taxing. Living with two is just.... Crazy. Drugs became more of an issue, I got involved in Satanism and crime. Just about anything really to take my mind off my life and everything in it.
By my 17 birthday I was arrested for breaking and entering. And was promptly placed in rehab. It worked for a while and I was clean for about a year. My mom went off the rails again and attempted suicide again. I've actually lost count how many times she tried to end her life. And unfortunately I was always the Muppet who would find her.
By the age of 19 I suffered a mental breakdown and was put into a crazy house for young people. I went nuts. I really did. And I was there for quite some time. Eventually when I got out, the first thing I did was to deliberately O.D and try to die. And I did. I was clinically dead for 3 min. I should have died, and even now at the age of 33 I sometimes wish I did.
I eventually pulled some of my life together with the help of some very close friends(who incidentally also had shitty lives)and I got a job as an animator in a good company. But my life was still a mess. I suffered from massive mood swings, sever bouts of depression and self harming still played a big part in my life.
When I was 25 I had my first contact with my father, who had moved to he UK when I was about 5. Turns out he had put my inheritance from his mother into an account for me, only to be accessed when I turned 25. I actually had enough money to actually do something with my life.
Now unfortunately at this time, my mom was again out of the asylum and drinking heavily, and I was currently in my first and only serious relationship with a girl who actually shared my own name Needless to say it all turned to honeysuckle. My girl-friend cheated on me, and my mom went mental again. And that was when I realised that the only way to survive was to leave it all behind me. Get out of the country and don't look back. Which is what I did. I got an ancestral visa and moved to London along with my best friend and soul mate(in a totally heterosexual way, mind you)
Fast forward several years and I'm now where I am. I am in a mediocre job as I've never had the opportunity to have a decent and stable education, which I'm fine with. But my best friend is now married. And I'm totally thrilled for him in every way possible. While I shied away from human contact and love, he looked for it in everyday possible. But while I'm stoked for my buddy, I find myself in a dark and lonely place. I yearn to be loved and to love someone, but I can't handle human contact. I know that eventually I will be hurt and I honestly can't take it again. I've had enough hurt and honeysuckle in my life. It's frustrating and infuriating. I can see what the problems are but I'm incapable of dealing with it. The funny thing is that I'm actually good looking(even though stress has turned all my hair snow white), and I get asked a lot by women why I'm still single.
And to top it all off, I'm faced with a catch22. Thinking ahead I know I will end my own life, that much is certain. But if I want love how can I possibly inflict that on someone else. I had it, and it sucked. I couldn't bring myself to put someone else through that.
So now I've come here asking for one simple thing. How do I break out of my bubble and actually deal with human contact. Cause so far, I have no ******* clue. I don't like hugging(and in this day and age, when someone, anyone tries to hug you and you shy away, it makes for weird vibes) and even if I sit next to a friend, ill sit as far away as possible.
/sigh
I apologize for the wall of text, and that's not even half of it. But I needed to get it off my chest, because if I don't...... Well, I don't know.
Thanks for reading.