TLDR: Childhood a total mindfuck. Taken a long time, perhaps too long, to begin to get a handle on some of it. Feel disposable as a man, and on some level a failure for having let all of the abuse happen and not being able to overcome it myself. Because so much of it was indirect, and the wounds run deep, I’m concerned that I’ll never manage to work it all out. Or perhaps not enough to be loved by someone as I’ve been so broken and have taken so long to get somewhere with it.

I guess I just wanted to type this out and share it somewhere where other men may understand. I feel a key part of this experience has been it’s inherent isolating and dehumanising aspect.

 

I was an only child and was ‘raised’ in a single parent home, my bio father being in the navy and a drunk, leaving early and essentially no contact after about 7. Mum was a career woman and worked a lot. Later, in my teenage years, she’d be diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, and would severely oscillate between various versions of herself, from a child to teenager to various stages of her adult personality, it seemed anyhow. Looking back, it seems like she had aspects of this disorder before the episodes leading to the official diagnosis and seems to help put a piece of the puzzle of those childhood experiences.

 

When I was about 8, she met a man through work who soon became her boyfriend and moved in with us. At first he seemed like a great guy. As a young boy I was excited to finally have a dad like all the other kids. He was charming and handsome and cool, I was proud of my new dad. Soon after he moved in he sat me down and asked me if “I wanted to become smarter. It would be hard but worth it.” or something to that degree, I barely remember most of childhood. I was excited to make my new dad happy so I excitedly agreed.

 

Everything changed then. I was forced to study and was tested regularly and was punished if I failed academic problems. I was also punished for perceived misbehaviour, and it often resulted in being forced to “write lines” over and over, or be alone in my room in general, as I always was. Eventually it became physical abused, being hit with a ruler for having a poorly kept backpack, eating too much or my drawing not being good enough or again, not succeeding academically. Once I pushed back against him and told him to stop it and he started to kick me, I didn’t do it again.

 

For approximately 6 years, everything was fear filled and tense in the house for me. I was always scared for the next thing to cause a problem and to be in trouble. I was always too dumb or too fat. He would even put little pieces of paper on his door handle as a trap of sorts, and would accuse me of entering his room while he was away if he found it disturbed. It was literally a small ball of paper that could be dislodged by the wind of someone walking past it. Didn’t matter, at fault, punished.

 

So it was hard, I was a joke at school, weird and fat and awkward. Alone and cringe, and scared and alone at home. I had always believed that somehow my mum had been a victim of his during this time, but having gone through a lot of therapy and reflection over it, I’ve realised that she was completely complicit in it all. She completely vanished and never once protected me from him, and I think in some way believed I deserved it. I think on some level she resented me because I was a burden for existing when she wanted to date and make money.

 

But I always cared so much for her, she was my only parent, the only person I had in the world. When she was officially diagnosed with DID I always did everything I could to make her happy and never upset her, as I really always had. It seems growing up I’d always internalised that my needs didn’t matter, be quiet and compliant and make everyone else happy and things will go smoothly, or something to that effect.

 

In some ways I feel this is been one of the difficulties of these things, in that it wasn’t so much the physical elements of the abuse from this, ultimately, stranger or person who I’d wanted to be my father (who I’d called dad once and had laughed in my face). Looking back it seems it was being left completely at his mercy for so long, to never have been protected or helped. To never have had anyone in my corner, and to have it being implied that I deserved it because it was allowed to happen.

 

And because so much of it was passive, was masked behind this person who is feminine and sweet and also so fragile with her disorder, it took so long to even see through it to a degree. It feels like my whole life had just been twisted to serve as she needed at the time, and then discarded when no longer needed, like a toy.

 

A year or so after the first guy finally left, she met a new guy. He was, at least on some levels, much better than the last guy. He and mum were, as they described, “like teenagers in love”, and after a couple of years, they moved north to another state to start a business and buy a house, and I stayed behind in the area where my school and friendship group was, as I think on some level it was unconsciously, the closest thing to a stable ‘family’ unit and safe. And looking back, it was fucked up that they were so swept up in their ‘teenage romance’ that they just discarded an actual teenager at such a critical age, after having gone through enough fucked up stuff.

 

Anyhow, they moved away, and I was 16 living in some strangers house renting a room. At this point I guess life had felt like a nonstop whirlwind of fear, pain and loneliness. I just rolled with everything, always just never questioning that the adults had my best interests at heart or that things were the only way they could and had to be. Something like that.

 

Anyhow, this is already too long. I just felt and have always felt so out of sync with everything and everyone. I often described it as feeling ‘sub human’. I never managed to date, I was overweight, nerdy, shame filled and depressed, not exactly a catch. And I think in general my entire view of relationship dynamics, myself, masculinity, and so on, were all so completely warped and fucked I’m concerned I’ll never be able to heal and have a healthy relationship with a woman.

 

I spent a majority of my 20s smoking weed, abusing food and so on, deeply depressed and thinking I’d never make it past 30 as I’d probably kill myself. Looking back it feels like everything had been such a mindfuck I didn’t even know where to begin to process it. And having no siblings, no parent to contrast with her, no family members and no romantic partner, it feels like there was never anything to really get any perspective on it or myself in relation to it and the outside world. I hope that makes sense. I saw myself as worthless, disgusting, shameful, hollow. The world is beautiful but I am a void within it not worth love or joy. I should make others happy because I’m not worth it.

 

I did have my friend group and I loved them, but I think the dynamic was me basically providing a house, drugs, video games, movies, food and so on for everyone to use as a hang out spot, so they would love me. And they could never be that family I needed so badly. I think I was a people pleasing type and many of them were high in somewhat narcissistic traits and I let myself be used for many years but, yet again, people who didn’t really care.

 

I lose a close friend at 25 and blamed myself a lot for it. I really needed someone or somewhere to be safe but again, it didn’t exist. I kinda fell off the deep end a bit here. I was getting out of it at about 30 when my mum suddenly died and that’s led to a lot of changes.

 

I changed most everything about my material conditions, moving, physical health etc. And over that time I finally started getting therapy and so on, and after about 5 years of various things found a guy who I think has helped me make progress. I think her passing also changed the dynamic and ‘broke the spell’ so to speak of having to tip toe around everything because anything that could negatively affect her could be cause for a DID episode and therefore extreme guilt and so on.

 

I’m 36 now and in many ways I’ve come a long way in, I think, overcoming a lot of these things. But I make progress I feel then slide very far back, and it gets exhausting. And, at times I can’t help but be so angry, to feel so betrayed, to be so overcome with grief at a lost youth and childhood. I feel cursed in some ways, to be so deeply implanted with this need and desire for love that was never satisfied as a child, and because of this, to also know deep down you’re not worth this love that you’ve cherished the thought of and longed for so much.

 

I’ve felt so disposable my whole life, especially as a man. In some ways it felt like the attitude was “a real man should be able to raise himself, and if he fails, he isn’t a real man, and therefore he is disposable.” She (and her second bf/husband) would talk to me like I was some stranger they’d only met recently. Like they didn’t have some responsibility and a part to play in my growth and development as a child. I don’t think she and I ever had a real conversation about those years with her first BF, and any time I feel a conversation edged around it, she’d go into a “Woe is me, I was such a bad mother.” routine, but we’d never actually discuss anything of substance.

 

It’s felt like I’ve had to teach myself everything and I’ve lost so much time, and I’m so fucking far behind. I’m trying but some days it feels so futile. I’ve cobbled together a simple little life for myself to try and make myself happy and I’m improving day by day, but I sometimes fear I’ll never be enough, and I’ll never just know some simple joys in life like, having one person who actually gives a shit about you and wants to be around you and maybe give you a hug. I find it so hard to wrap my head around someone caring about me that I think I’ve sabotaged potential connections because it just feels so fake and alien. And I think I’ve gravitated towards dynamics where the person is unavailable/disinterested/etc and then gone into ‘limerance’ mode. It’s all fucked.