I’m not sure why I’m doing this. I guess I have always had a weird desire to blog about my shitty, embarrassing life, and now seems as good a time as any to do it, as I am contemplating ending it soon. I’m not sure if it’s narcissistic or natural to want to leave a record of your life, but I think that is the basic purpose of this blog. I think some small part of me is also trying to reach out to the world, to see if I am alone in my situation. I am also using this as a way to organize my thoughts and to vent my feelings in times of distress. I have used journaling in the past, but there is something intriguing about sharing all of this with the world, I guess. When I write this down in my journal, I am only sharing it with myself.
I will use this first post as an introduction, as is customary. I am in a state of distress and my thoughts are scattered. I am also brand new to blogging. If I continue to update this, hopefully my writing will improve and be a bit more coherent.
I am a 34 year old man (despite the title of this blog) who lives with his parents, is unemployed, and has been battling mental illness for more than two decades. Obsessive compulsive disorder seems to be at the heart of my issues, but it has been suggested to me by more than one mental health professional that I may be on the autistic spectrum, and I feel there is some merit to that. I feel that at this point in my life, I also have some personality disorder-type issues. My issues began when I was around 13 years old, and I have since seen eight different therapists. In addition to OCD and ASD, I have also been diagnosed, (or misdiagnosed, perhaps) with ADHD, Bipolar disorder, and of course depression and general anxiety. I have been on multiple SSRIs, TCAs, benzos, stimulants, anti-psychotics, anti-convulsants, beta-blockers, and sleep aids. None of them have worked.
When I was being treated for ADHD, I developed an addiction to amphetamines. I used my medication (Vyvanse) as prescribed for over two years. Then, during one particularly bad day at work, I took an extra one to help me get through the day. It was all downhill after that. I spent the next 15 months alternating between abusing my medication and trying to get off of it. I finally stopped taking them for good in August of 2013. After that I experimented with opioids for awhile and briefly abused Benadryl. I am clean now. I don’t even drink alcohol or consume caffeine anymore. I am currently not taking any medications, either.
I am exhausted all the time and there are many days when I can barely function at all. There are no thyroid or metabolic issues, according to blood work. I have recently been evaluated for sleep issues in a formal sleep study and I seem to show the symptoms of Upper Airway Resistance Syndrome. But since it isn’t Obstructive Sleep Apnea, my insurance refuses to pay for it. The sleep doctor gave me a script for Gabapentin to help me sleep, not knowing what else to do. On nights when I do take it, I wake up feeling even more tired than when I don’t take it. It is clearly not the answer.
I have been out of the workforce since 2012. I am now trying to re-enter, but despite the booming economy, I am routinely rejected from even basic customer service and warehouse-type jobs. I have no idea how to explain the gap on my resume, as it is essentially due to drug abuse and mental illness. I have held a volunteer position since 2010, and have done good work for the organization, am well liked there, have supervisors willing to serve as references, etc. But nobody gives a shit. A volunteer job is not steady, gainful employment, and that is what matters.
Most embarrassingly, I did not become sexually active until earlier this year. I managed to go 34 years without having sex, and then I met a woman my age at my volunteer job who, for whatever reason, found me attractive. She was (is) married. We started as friends, then got closer and closer, then slept together, regretted it, and then slept together many more times. Then she got caught. I now think she was using me as a weapon to punish her husband, who she once told me she hated, but now claims to “love very much.” Today she told me she wants to cut me out of her life entirely so she can go back to her husband. I thought we were in love, mostly because she told me she loved me and I told her the same. I was wrong. I think that is why I am writing this blog post right now.
I am at a bizarre, in-between state of mind. I have not fully committed to suicide, but I have completely lost hope. I am in a great deal of pain, but I’m not sure if I want to die. My life has been painful and pointless. I have tried very hard to improve my situation, but to no avail. I have entirely missed out on the very best years of my life. I am looking at a future of jumping from one minimum-wage part-time job to another. I will likely never be financially stable enough to move out of my parent’s house. I will probably live with them until they die, at which point I will inherit the house, sell it, and then live in a little apartment somewhere. I will be in my 50s or 60s when this happens. (I want to point out that I am in no hurry for my parents to die. I love them very much and I greatly appreciate all the support they have given me. I will never be able to repay them. I am just trying to paint a picture of my situation).
I will likely never have sex again. I won’t die a virgin, but I will probably die never knowing what it’s like to experience romantic love. Dating is obviously out of the question right now. Being 34, living with your parents and being unemployed doesn’t look great on Tinder. Being 35, living with your parents and making $8 an hour isn’t much better (my best case scenario for the future). Being mentally ill also doesn’t help. And it’s not like I’m brimming with sexual confidence, having done the deed maybe 20 or 30 times total at the age of 34.
The friends that I grew up with have normal lives. My childhood best friend is a professional scientist. He owns a home and is married, and his wife is pregnant with their first child. Many of my other friends have similar lives. And then there’s me. I was supposed to turn out just like them. I didn’t. And to say that I am impossibly far behind is a little bit of an understatement.
I don’t yet know if I will kill myself or not. But I think I am very close to deciding. I want to spend one more nice Christmas with my family. I will see my old friends, they will be home for the holidays to see their families. I will have a chance to say goodbye to them. And I want to celebrate my sister’s birthday one more time. It is in early February and she is the person who I feel closest to in this world.
After that, I’m not sure that I want to keep on doing this. I will turn 35 in early May. I don’t think that I want to look back on my life on my birthday and see what I see now. I certainly don’t want to look back from my 40th, 50th, or 90th birthday and see this.
I am well aware of the fact that committing suicide would be devastating to my family. I think about that a lot. I don’t want to do that to them. But people who love their families kill themselves all the time. It happens every day. They don’t mean to hurt anyone but they run out of coping resources. And that’s where I find myself right now. I don’t think that I can weather one more bad situation. I am at the end of my rope.
I don’t know if anyone will find this or if anyone will respond. I hope so. I would just like to hear from somebody at this point. I feel so isolated, like I am an alien in this world. Our society isn’t very nice to people who screw up or fall behind or fall through the cracks for whatever reason, and I almost feel like I am not allowed to be a part of the world around me.
That is all for now. We’ll see if I keep updating this. I think on very bad days it could be therapeutic. If you leave a comment I will do my best to respond. I am brand new to blogging, like I said. I look forward to hearing from you and I hope you are having a better day than me.
35 Year Old Loser 