I chanced upon these forums today whilst avoiding the mounting pile of revision I have to complete for my exams that start next week. After reading some of your stories however I felt inspired to leave this one post. I suppose, when you are isolated or depressed, but desperate to start anew it’s difficult to ‘see’ a way out. The world you live in is a small one consisting of your family, the few friends you might have and bleak, inhospitable surroundings. Somehow you muddle through life however, god knows how. There are times you speak to that person (or girl!) and are left with a warm, hopeful glow in your heart but slowly you sink back into reality and realise there really isn’t an awful lot there. One thing precious few of my friends know about me is that I spent the formative stages of my life completely and absolutely isolated. If people were to meet me now they wouldn’t suspect it, but I was the kid who frequented the shadowy and forgotten corners of the playground during break times and passed quietly through the gates on a Friday afternoon, if I was to disappear then my absence on Monday morning would have probably only been noted on the register. During this time I sank into a depression, I was absolutely desperate to improve my life and live out an existence that had some semblance of normality but with no friends, confidence or self-esteem I managed to and now, as a twenty year old man I can look back on my past experience. Whilst people’s ‘inspirational’ stories can doubtless be helpful, I can remember drawing hope from similar piece’s on the Internet I do strongly believe that the way people handle and approach their surrounds is highly individualistic so don’t understand this as some arrogant and all assuming self-motivational piece. Rather I want to tell a story, one that even my mother and definitely all of my friends as well as my girlfriend probably don’t know the true extent of. When they have continually had a fulfilling social life it is doubtful whether they’d understand what I write here. Stories have to be told however and the anonymity of this forum appeals to me as well as the sympathetic and understanding audience it might be read by. If you read what will inevitably be an essay-length article than I thank you sincerely, it is time someone else heard “l’historie de ma vie.”
My story starts on the 30th of January 1993 in bleak, post cold war Britain. Born into a London family my childhood was perfectly normal, surrounded by a loving family joined by my sister in 1997. It was around this time that I started primary school and my life took a crucial term. My mother was a brilliant parent and did all she could to ensure that I enjoyed a normal social life, inviting classmates home for play dates and taking me to the local playground after school. Sometime, perhaps during my third or fourth year however my classmates decided to form a group they styled ‘the gang’. Being a somewhat eccentric child I was instantly excluded and became the object of their scorn, this continued for the rest of my time spent in Primary school. Quickly, they turned my few remaining friends against me, the social life that I had enjoyed rapidly stopped and I found myself completely isolated. Writing this, with hindsight, I feel rather pathetic. I have a much younger sister who arrived in 2004 and the social problems little children must contend with are extremely comical to say the least, equally however I can understand the traumatic effect that such circumstances could have on a young child in the early stages of their life. I was most likely deprived of any confidence, the crucial chance I had to learn about friendship building was denied to me whilst I had no experience delegating or handling social groups; complete isolation was what I knew best, it felt safe and comfortable. I left primary school in the summer of 2004, due to start secondary school that September. Even then I can somehow remember being hopeful that a ‘fresh start’ would promise new friends, opportunities and happiness. History would tell that I was wrong.
My first few months at secondary school were easier than my family had feared. I coped with the increased workload and managed to engage in some extra-curricular activities. Lacking adequate social skills however I found it impossible to make any friends. A few years later I watched my younger sister start at the same school I did and was amazed at how quickly she found a group of people to spend time with. What can be said is that I did make an effort; with little experience in the way of making friends, perhaps a tad misguidedly but I spoke to as many people as I could over those first few days. I wouldn’t say I was outright rejected but my efforts certainly fell short. For the rest of my first year I wandered around the cold, tarmac expanses that were my schools playgrounds completely isolated; especially terrible in the grey, biting, bleak cold that is the British winter. It would be extremely unfair on all my peers to say that I was ‘bullied’ during my time at secondary school but I definitely received the worst of people’s treatment in those years, owing in no small part to my eccentricities. I can remember being surrounded by a group of people and called “dirty” as they picked away at my uniform and hair (nonsensical considering I was, and still am, obsessed with my hygiene and shower two times each day) or another time a guy called Liam who I’ve never really liked managed to persuade what seemed an entire playground to shout “NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU’RE SAYING” over my every word, he was only persuaded to stop when, on the verge of breaking completely I went to seek a teacher. There were times I made an effort, organizing trips to the cinema with varying levels of success or hanging out with people during break times, but any attempt I made seemed completely futile and eventually I just gave up. Thus, the following few years were spent completely isolated. I can remember graduating from school in the summer of 2009 after completing my GCSE exams. Most of my peers were excited at the summer that lay ahead; I retreated to my family’s holiday home in the depths of the Scottish countryside to spend three months in perfect isolation.
I returned to my old school that September to start sixth form and for much of the following year my predicament remained. At this point something changed however. For a long time I had passively accepted my isolation, thinking it to be “safe” and “normal” however after I turned 17 I realized that I wasn’t getting younger. I balked at the fact that I’d spent years completely isolated, it occurred to me that within the next year I’d be applying to start at university. Increasingly I realized that if I didn’t do something there and then the isolated and lonely existence that I struggled to contend with then could become the path that the rest of my life took, perhaps I’d miss out on making friends and forming the relationships that characterize many people’s experience at University. At a similar time the ephemerality of human existence dawned upon me, I realized that life was genuinely short and we’d have to make the absolute most of that short but wonderful time we had before dying. You might think my ‘realizations’ to be somewhat cynical but I felt them to be extremely positive and motivation, gently pushing my energies and efforts in the right direction. The abiding question was “where to start?” however. Being so ‘cut off’ from the school community I hardly had in a position to leap into any kind of social life. Then, as luck would have it I was presented with what may have well be my ‘make it or break it chance’. A girl who lived a few doors down my road and I was on reasonable terms with held a 1920s themed party to celebrate her 18th birthday during the June of 2010. I was invited. There was much more deliberation in my choosing to go than I could possibly describe here but eventually I did- in hindsight possibly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
I actually quite enjoyed myself and used the event as a platform to organize or be invited to further gatherings over the ensuing summer holidays. I left London for a long period but upon returning organized a big get together with some friends and we all met up for a meal and drink. The following few months were spent attending every event or party I was invited to. I look back on that year and feel slightly pathetic. I must have appeared to be somewhat desperate but it was very necessary and I know that. In January I held a get together for my birthday which many people attended and there were many more socials that I attended. In march, as the winter cold began to melt away the prospect of my A level examinations presented itself, my university offer dependent upon them I committed myself to months of hard work and the time I had to socialize dropped significantly but everyone else I knew experienced this ‘slump’ in activity too. My mindset had altered yet again by this point; whilst I had enjoyed myself it was becoming increasingly clear that the social life I’d built for myself in a short space of time was rather shallow, owing to previous experience with the same people I’d understandably failed to build sustainable and durable relationships with them. As the end of my time at sixth form loomed it increasingly felt that I was drifting away into a bountiful future, leaving behind an environment in which I’d grown stronger but was no longer as ‘relevant’ as it had once been. The summer that followed was a long one indeed. I saw relatively few people, attending my school’s prom, a friend’s birthday as well as a small get-together at the very end of the holiday. Crucially however, I had time to sit back and think. In the nick of time I’d managed to acquire some half-decent social skills and determined to build myself a set of meaningful relationships during my time at university.
Before I describe the final two years of my life that lead to the present, it’s appropriate to take a step back. When I was 17 and had what best can be described as my ‘awakening’ I decided that I wanted to meet a girlfriend, someone who I could spend quality time and speak to. As you can imagine, having spent the better part of my childhood and youth isolated I barely was a ‘hit’ with the ladies. New Years Eve 2010/11 proved itself something of a turning point I ended up kissing a friend who had recently been dumped by her boyfriend. Via Facebook, the following morning we decided to forget anything that happened and did so for a few months until the half-term holiday in mid February. As her parents had gone away she invited me around to watch a film. We had a few drinks, one thing led to another and we ended up in bed making love with one another. We had sex again, a few weeks later, around my house during an extended lunch break at school. Any chance there was of us getting into a relationship foundered when she reconciled with her boyfriend and told me that we were only ever “close friends”. I wasn’t broken as one might expect. Whilst I was attracted to her I don’t think I ever felt any kind of love and had gained experience that couldn’t be sniffed at. I enjoyed the feeling of being close to someone and determined to meet a girlfriend at university.
The first year, especially the first term was something of a blur. I met as many people as I could, socialized compulsively and had a lot of fun. As the second term dragged on I tired of the University lifestyle, constant drinking and clubbing has never been something that appeals to me overly. By this time however I’d met many people including a small group of close friends. My romantic life had proved rather unfruitful. Through October and November I had seen a girl who, it turned out, had rather severe mental health problems. For some unbeknown reason she cut all contact with me in early December (although she did pop up in the first term of my second year, I subsequently decided that it was better we didn’t revive what was evidently an ill-fated relationship) and after that I went on a few dates with a girl whom ultimately I lost contact with. Thus, much of the first year was limited to the few one-night stands I had and some drunken snogs outside bars. I can’t say that I’m particularly proud of this track record but it happened and I’ll stand by it. By the end of the year I was rather exhausted and looked forward to a long relaxing summer holiday. I left university for the recess with a group of friends, closer and better than any I’d had before and two brilliant flat mates who I was due to live with the following year.
The four Months’ of summer holiday went rather more quickly than expected and by September 2012 I was back at university. I can’t say that I was overwhelmingly obsessed with finding a girlfriend; I’d decided that I’d enjoy this year whatever it threw at me. I went out quite a lot over the first term and met numerous people. One in particular, a red-haired girl stood out- my to-be girlfriend. I can’t say that I was particularly effective in asking her out. We met at our housewarming party and spoke to one another briefly until her drunken flat mate demanded they return home. A few weeks later I went to a birthday party as my flat mate’s plus one. I bumped into her again and we spoke until the clubs closing time. Unable to find her friends she agreed to come back with me, amazingly I didn’t act upon this situation (later she admitted she really liked me then) and in the morning we parted our ways, she went home and I to work, leaving me thinking that we’d never meet again. A few weeks later we passed in one of our collage’s corridors, she smiled at me but as I didn’t see her my non-response made her think that I’d simply pulled a blank. As fate would have it we met at yet another party a few weeks later, after a couple of awkward glances we spoke to one another and all disillusions were dispelled. This time I managed to get her number and arrange to meet with her. After a couple of dates we ‘got together’ on the 21st of December and have spent the following few months completely enamored with one another. The future beholds opportunity too. I have one year left at university after which me and a group of friends are planning to set up a business- we’re drawing up plans now! Life is as good as it gets and I suppose you could truly say the world is my oyster.
There you have it! My life story in 2,604 words! I hardly expect anyone to read this wall of text… if you are perusing these words then well done. As I said before I started, my decision to post this was quite self-centered. Whilst I have told people bits of my story I haven’t yet disclosed it all, perhaps the posting of this article is the first step in a process that will ultimately allow me to do so. For the while however, if someone who reads this finds in it the slightest glimmer of hope or inspiration then I’m a very happy man. What I’d like to conclude with is this. I’m an ordinary human being and I managed to achieve what I did without changing myself- I’m a proud person, like the way I am and wouldn’t alter it for anything. The message I wanted to convey? Anyone can change their lives for the better however difficult things may seem.
Good luck and live well.
My story starts on the 30th of January 1993 in bleak, post cold war Britain. Born into a London family my childhood was perfectly normal, surrounded by a loving family joined by my sister in 1997. It was around this time that I started primary school and my life took a crucial term. My mother was a brilliant parent and did all she could to ensure that I enjoyed a normal social life, inviting classmates home for play dates and taking me to the local playground after school. Sometime, perhaps during my third or fourth year however my classmates decided to form a group they styled ‘the gang’. Being a somewhat eccentric child I was instantly excluded and became the object of their scorn, this continued for the rest of my time spent in Primary school. Quickly, they turned my few remaining friends against me, the social life that I had enjoyed rapidly stopped and I found myself completely isolated. Writing this, with hindsight, I feel rather pathetic. I have a much younger sister who arrived in 2004 and the social problems little children must contend with are extremely comical to say the least, equally however I can understand the traumatic effect that such circumstances could have on a young child in the early stages of their life. I was most likely deprived of any confidence, the crucial chance I had to learn about friendship building was denied to me whilst I had no experience delegating or handling social groups; complete isolation was what I knew best, it felt safe and comfortable. I left primary school in the summer of 2004, due to start secondary school that September. Even then I can somehow remember being hopeful that a ‘fresh start’ would promise new friends, opportunities and happiness. History would tell that I was wrong.
My first few months at secondary school were easier than my family had feared. I coped with the increased workload and managed to engage in some extra-curricular activities. Lacking adequate social skills however I found it impossible to make any friends. A few years later I watched my younger sister start at the same school I did and was amazed at how quickly she found a group of people to spend time with. What can be said is that I did make an effort; with little experience in the way of making friends, perhaps a tad misguidedly but I spoke to as many people as I could over those first few days. I wouldn’t say I was outright rejected but my efforts certainly fell short. For the rest of my first year I wandered around the cold, tarmac expanses that were my schools playgrounds completely isolated; especially terrible in the grey, biting, bleak cold that is the British winter. It would be extremely unfair on all my peers to say that I was ‘bullied’ during my time at secondary school but I definitely received the worst of people’s treatment in those years, owing in no small part to my eccentricities. I can remember being surrounded by a group of people and called “dirty” as they picked away at my uniform and hair (nonsensical considering I was, and still am, obsessed with my hygiene and shower two times each day) or another time a guy called Liam who I’ve never really liked managed to persuade what seemed an entire playground to shout “NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU’RE SAYING” over my every word, he was only persuaded to stop when, on the verge of breaking completely I went to seek a teacher. There were times I made an effort, organizing trips to the cinema with varying levels of success or hanging out with people during break times, but any attempt I made seemed completely futile and eventually I just gave up. Thus, the following few years were spent completely isolated. I can remember graduating from school in the summer of 2009 after completing my GCSE exams. Most of my peers were excited at the summer that lay ahead; I retreated to my family’s holiday home in the depths of the Scottish countryside to spend three months in perfect isolation.
I returned to my old school that September to start sixth form and for much of the following year my predicament remained. At this point something changed however. For a long time I had passively accepted my isolation, thinking it to be “safe” and “normal” however after I turned 17 I realized that I wasn’t getting younger. I balked at the fact that I’d spent years completely isolated, it occurred to me that within the next year I’d be applying to start at university. Increasingly I realized that if I didn’t do something there and then the isolated and lonely existence that I struggled to contend with then could become the path that the rest of my life took, perhaps I’d miss out on making friends and forming the relationships that characterize many people’s experience at University. At a similar time the ephemerality of human existence dawned upon me, I realized that life was genuinely short and we’d have to make the absolute most of that short but wonderful time we had before dying. You might think my ‘realizations’ to be somewhat cynical but I felt them to be extremely positive and motivation, gently pushing my energies and efforts in the right direction. The abiding question was “where to start?” however. Being so ‘cut off’ from the school community I hardly had in a position to leap into any kind of social life. Then, as luck would have it I was presented with what may have well be my ‘make it or break it chance’. A girl who lived a few doors down my road and I was on reasonable terms with held a 1920s themed party to celebrate her 18th birthday during the June of 2010. I was invited. There was much more deliberation in my choosing to go than I could possibly describe here but eventually I did- in hindsight possibly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
I actually quite enjoyed myself and used the event as a platform to organize or be invited to further gatherings over the ensuing summer holidays. I left London for a long period but upon returning organized a big get together with some friends and we all met up for a meal and drink. The following few months were spent attending every event or party I was invited to. I look back on that year and feel slightly pathetic. I must have appeared to be somewhat desperate but it was very necessary and I know that. In January I held a get together for my birthday which many people attended and there were many more socials that I attended. In march, as the winter cold began to melt away the prospect of my A level examinations presented itself, my university offer dependent upon them I committed myself to months of hard work and the time I had to socialize dropped significantly but everyone else I knew experienced this ‘slump’ in activity too. My mindset had altered yet again by this point; whilst I had enjoyed myself it was becoming increasingly clear that the social life I’d built for myself in a short space of time was rather shallow, owing to previous experience with the same people I’d understandably failed to build sustainable and durable relationships with them. As the end of my time at sixth form loomed it increasingly felt that I was drifting away into a bountiful future, leaving behind an environment in which I’d grown stronger but was no longer as ‘relevant’ as it had once been. The summer that followed was a long one indeed. I saw relatively few people, attending my school’s prom, a friend’s birthday as well as a small get-together at the very end of the holiday. Crucially however, I had time to sit back and think. In the nick of time I’d managed to acquire some half-decent social skills and determined to build myself a set of meaningful relationships during my time at university.
Before I describe the final two years of my life that lead to the present, it’s appropriate to take a step back. When I was 17 and had what best can be described as my ‘awakening’ I decided that I wanted to meet a girlfriend, someone who I could spend quality time and speak to. As you can imagine, having spent the better part of my childhood and youth isolated I barely was a ‘hit’ with the ladies. New Years Eve 2010/11 proved itself something of a turning point I ended up kissing a friend who had recently been dumped by her boyfriend. Via Facebook, the following morning we decided to forget anything that happened and did so for a few months until the half-term holiday in mid February. As her parents had gone away she invited me around to watch a film. We had a few drinks, one thing led to another and we ended up in bed making love with one another. We had sex again, a few weeks later, around my house during an extended lunch break at school. Any chance there was of us getting into a relationship foundered when she reconciled with her boyfriend and told me that we were only ever “close friends”. I wasn’t broken as one might expect. Whilst I was attracted to her I don’t think I ever felt any kind of love and had gained experience that couldn’t be sniffed at. I enjoyed the feeling of being close to someone and determined to meet a girlfriend at university.
The first year, especially the first term was something of a blur. I met as many people as I could, socialized compulsively and had a lot of fun. As the second term dragged on I tired of the University lifestyle, constant drinking and clubbing has never been something that appeals to me overly. By this time however I’d met many people including a small group of close friends. My romantic life had proved rather unfruitful. Through October and November I had seen a girl who, it turned out, had rather severe mental health problems. For some unbeknown reason she cut all contact with me in early December (although she did pop up in the first term of my second year, I subsequently decided that it was better we didn’t revive what was evidently an ill-fated relationship) and after that I went on a few dates with a girl whom ultimately I lost contact with. Thus, much of the first year was limited to the few one-night stands I had and some drunken snogs outside bars. I can’t say that I’m particularly proud of this track record but it happened and I’ll stand by it. By the end of the year I was rather exhausted and looked forward to a long relaxing summer holiday. I left university for the recess with a group of friends, closer and better than any I’d had before and two brilliant flat mates who I was due to live with the following year.
The four Months’ of summer holiday went rather more quickly than expected and by September 2012 I was back at university. I can’t say that I was overwhelmingly obsessed with finding a girlfriend; I’d decided that I’d enjoy this year whatever it threw at me. I went out quite a lot over the first term and met numerous people. One in particular, a red-haired girl stood out- my to-be girlfriend. I can’t say that I was particularly effective in asking her out. We met at our housewarming party and spoke to one another briefly until her drunken flat mate demanded they return home. A few weeks later I went to a birthday party as my flat mate’s plus one. I bumped into her again and we spoke until the clubs closing time. Unable to find her friends she agreed to come back with me, amazingly I didn’t act upon this situation (later she admitted she really liked me then) and in the morning we parted our ways, she went home and I to work, leaving me thinking that we’d never meet again. A few weeks later we passed in one of our collage’s corridors, she smiled at me but as I didn’t see her my non-response made her think that I’d simply pulled a blank. As fate would have it we met at yet another party a few weeks later, after a couple of awkward glances we spoke to one another and all disillusions were dispelled. This time I managed to get her number and arrange to meet with her. After a couple of dates we ‘got together’ on the 21st of December and have spent the following few months completely enamored with one another. The future beholds opportunity too. I have one year left at university after which me and a group of friends are planning to set up a business- we’re drawing up plans now! Life is as good as it gets and I suppose you could truly say the world is my oyster.
There you have it! My life story in 2,604 words! I hardly expect anyone to read this wall of text… if you are perusing these words then well done. As I said before I started, my decision to post this was quite self-centered. Whilst I have told people bits of my story I haven’t yet disclosed it all, perhaps the posting of this article is the first step in a process that will ultimately allow me to do so. For the while however, if someone who reads this finds in it the slightest glimmer of hope or inspiration then I’m a very happy man. What I’d like to conclude with is this. I’m an ordinary human being and I managed to achieve what I did without changing myself- I’m a proud person, like the way I am and wouldn’t alter it for anything. The message I wanted to convey? Anyone can change their lives for the better however difficult things may seem.
Good luck and live well.
