I'm not someone who usually goes online for support (though I did post here shortly after my divorce), but I feel very alone and lost.
I was born and grew up in a pretty strict household in the U.S., though my parents are Asian, so the culture+generation gap has always been a struggle. As a kid, I had the stereotypical coddling mother and over-critical father. Still, life was pretty good as a child.
When I was a teen, something terrible happened to me that has affected me for a long time but I have only recently acknowledged.
Possible trigger:
When I was in 7th grade, there was a boy in my school molesting other boys, including me. He would do it in the locker room during gym. He would pin me to the locker, put his hand on my throat, and fondle front and back of my privates, as I was unclothed. He preyed on skinnier kids like myself. I think a lot of the tougher kids thought it was really weird... They didn't know what to think. I think sometimes they would tell him to shove off... This happened maybe two dozen times to me over the course of two years, maybe more.
I didn't tell my parents for two reasons. For one, I felt weird about the whole thing. The other reason was because there was a lot of fighting at my house; my sister was a rebellious teenager and my parents' marriage had issues. It was a nightmare when I came home. Little did my family know, school was a nightmare for me.
I eventually told at least a couple of the teachers at school, and they did NOTHING. They didn't know what to do. To this day, I feel like they should have known what to do. None of the boys that got molested got any help. I haven't told many people since. More than 15 years later, I've resolved to tell more people. It's just a hard thing to open up about, and the sad thing is I know some people won't take it well, and a lot won't be as supportive as I need them to be.
The kid did get into trouble for molesting at least one girl; as far as I know, he's been in and out of jail to this day, and I don't feel sorry at all.
The result of what happened to me is that I was ashamed of my body for a long time, and it really hurt my early relationships sexually. Still, I was able to shut out what happened pretty well into my 20s.
In my early 20s, I met the love of my life. We connected mentally on so many levels it was utterly insane. It wasn't too long into the relationship when I found out
I didn't think about it until now, but her trauma always trumped my trauma. I could never really open up about what happened to me, because it wasn't big enough. I didn't care, though; I loved her so much. She struggled with working a job (so she stayed unemployed when I was with her) and had a lot of anxiety problems. I took care of her... too much. It became co-dependent, inequitable (from both of our perspectives), enabled her anxieties, and it just didn't work out like we hoped.
Long story short, she ended up leaving me half a year after we got married (she left in early 2017). It was almost out of nowhere, though to be fair, we had our share of problems and I think we were functionally incompatible. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when she was younger, but she didn't believe in treatment, as the doctors she had had before had failed her, which is extremely sad.
To this day, I struggle with the loss. I struggle with how much we loved each other, I struggle with how hurt I feel that she didn't even check up on me after she up and left, and I struggle with not knowing if she'll be okay for the rest of her life.
After I knew it was over, I did everything I could to make myself a better man. I got into great shape, I threw myself into my interests, and I volunteered and generally did good things for the people around me. I felt pretty great, honestly.
A few months later, I met a woman on an online dating site that I got into a relationship with. As much as I denied it to myself at the time, she was a rebound. I really loved how I didn't always have to be the responsible one with her, how I could just let her take care of me once in awhile. I was so burnt out on almost being a parental partner.
I don't want to go into too many details, but she was awful to me. She constantly criticized me, was always angry, and didn't like a lot of the things I did or said. She tried to change me and I LET HER. She pretty much hated everyone, including her family, and I just felt like I was shriveling up. I'm not sure why I stayed so long. I think it's because when I would express my concern, she would tell me that it was just the divorce talking and say I was too sensitive. I believed her. My friends didn't like her... I should have taken a hint.
I got out of the relationship about 6 months later... probably about two months ago. I'm a shell of what I was. I ate up what she said about me; her voice is still in my head, telling me that I'm not funny, that a lot of my endeavors are a waste of time, that my friends are terrible...
I'm trying to pick up the pieces of myself that are scattered all around me. I really do think my friends are good people, but most of them struggle to talk about feelings, so I don't feel like they would even want to know how I feel right now. I also tend to hang out with people that view themselves as very intelligent, so emotional displays are implied a weakness.
I've signed up for some meetup groups that could be good for me... and I've formed my own band which is going really well, but I still feel so empty. I'm trying to soak up all the wonder in the world around me, but a lot of the time my mind just gravitates towards pain. I feel like I have a lot of secrets, and I actually feel like if they get out, it may hurt me more than help me. I am my own secret, and that's a very lonely fact.
I welcome any advice or thoughts you guys might have...