Where do I go from here?

Hey,
I wanted to share my story and explain how I've come to this point. It's nothing I've not said before on here, but I wrote it and might as well share it. So yeah, my life story in brief... or long, depending on how you want to look at it.

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Around the age of fifteen something ****ed up in my brain. I developed some sort of mental disorder and went off the rails. I did some bad **** and got kicked out of school, felt ****ing awful all the time, couldn't cope with my thoughts, etc. I had a few appointments with the doctor, but they didn't really pin down what the problem was and as a result I didn't get any treatment or help of any kind. I was basically shoved into the word a mental case, with no support, no qualifications, and no idea what to do next.

I was a loner for quite a few years, until sometime in my early 20s, I met a guy who became my best friend. I was travelling to score some weed and had to go to the next town over. I ended up sat next to some guy who also happened to be going to the same place. It was about a two hour ride each way, so we got to know each other quite well. I started hanging around with this guy a lot and was introduced to the people he knew. They all lived in the next town over, so to hang around with them I generally had to stop over. For around a year I basically couch surfed. I had a large group of friends back then, many of which were in the same boat as me, so it generally wasn't too hard to find somewhere to crash. Occasionally I'd be forced to wander the streets at night. A bag of crisps, or some toast, was a meal back then. What little money I did have got spent on booze, pills or weed.

With my mental illness, I was playing with fire living like that. When most of the people I knew started to move into the rave scene, I couldn't hack it any more. Psychosis set in and reality became frightening. I ended up leaving it all behind and moved back to my hometown. My best friend (the guy I met on the bus), came with me and we ended up living together in a flat in some crummy estate on the edge of town. I weened myself off drugs, but the two of us became locals at a rocker-pub in the centre of town. It was the sort of place where everyone had names like Psycho Joe and Bomber. I ended up meeting this young punk girl there and we fell for each other. My mate didn't like that we were spending so much time together and became jealous and destructive. We ended up arguing a lot and in the end he moved out and the girl moved in.

I think those next few years were the only time that I've ever been happy and life was "normal". We had a house full of animals. She found work as a butcher and I worked in construction while putting myself through collage to make up for missing out on school. We ended up being pillars of the community in a sense. Not in the "village green" way, but because everyone in the neighbourhood knew each other through us. It went on that way for six years, then, out of nowhere, I found out that she had been cheating on me with one of the local chavs. She'd got herself pregnant, and out of fear, or shame, or god knows what, she bolted out the house, never to speak to me again and set her new chav friends on me. They kicked in my door in the middle of the night and beat me senseless with baseball bats and box cutters.

And that was the end of that. All the people I knew splintered off into their own groups, or moved away. I ended up alone, trying to deal with the heartache, betrayal and depression. The chavs continued to target me for a long time until I learned to never leave the house without carrying a steel pipe. I never used it in anger, but it deterred them from trying anything more than name calling from afar.

I ended up making some new friends, though it was a much more private circle than I'd had before. Just three guys who were like the brothers I'd never had. I met a new girl after about a year, although I wasn't really in love with her like I was with the last one. The new girl was kind of nuts, and constantly cheated on me, but I didn't care much. I basically shut myself away from the world through this period of my life. Going through what I had done with the ex, had made me cynical. It might sound funny to say, since I'd had quite a hard life up to that point, but I had always found a way to laugh at the world until then. I did manage to complete a degree in IT during that period. It was a complete waste of time as I never got so much as a response from any job I applied for. Even offering to work for free with charity organisations only got me rejections. Now, I can't even remember how to program it's been so long.

The regular routine of life changed again after five or so years. Not as abruptly as before, but it was still rather sudden. One of my bros moved to Spain, another went to take care of his mother, the third lost his mind and ended up in a nut house, all in quick succession. That just left me and my balmy girlfriend. Things were looking grim and we were stuck in a rut for a while until I got some news. My Nan had died and left me her house in her will. My girlfriend and I moved there; back to where I had grown up as a kid, and just down the road from the rest of my family. Since my sister lived nearby and had a group of friends my age, I started to hang around with her. They were a group of hippies and had a real "Manson Family" vibe going on. They were very condescending and elitist. They tolerated me, to an extent, but wanted nothing to do with my girlfriend. Eventually, my girlfriend cheated on me for the last time and never came back, leaving me to deal with the smug hippies on my own. It didn't last long. Eventually I had enough of their talking-down, bullying and exclusion and snapped at one of them. They instantly ostracised me, my sister included.

For the fist time since leaving school, I was completely on my own and had no idea how to make new friends. I had always known someone, who knew someone, who I hadn't really talked to much before. This was different. I had no contacts at all. So I did what most people would do. I started to explore my hobbies and hoped to meet people through shared interests. It failed. I would meet people, socialise and as soon as the hour or so was up, that was it, they were gone. They weren't what I'd consider real friends. When that felt like it was going nowhere I thought I'd try a different approach. I began teaching night classes and organising community art projects. My biggest achievement in this regard was building a series of giant wooden statues, burning man style, for a night club. But again, it didn't work as a way for making new friends, just more acquaintances who may as well not exist once the day is done. Looking for work was a bust as well. Despite sending out hundreds of applications I only ever got two interviews. One which went badly and one that was for some pyramid scheme sales job. I did a bit of work off the books for a couple of people, but it was always temporary and for peanuts.

Years of this crushed the spirit out of me until I didn't have the energy to carry on trying. I sank further into depression until I felt my only recourse was to seek outside help. I'd never had any luck with the NHS, so I looked to the private sector. I attended therapy for two years, but it barely helped, and in the end I was exploited and abused by my therapist. Nothing sexual, but she groomed me and fed me lies and confidence tricks in order to manipulate and extort me. When I finally wised up to what was happening and reported her to the Department of Fitness to Practice, the only witnesses that were called were her employers, who were more like her business partners, and who stood to loose their own jobs in the process. As you can imagine, it didn't go as I'd hoped.

After that there really didn't seem to be anything more I could do. I'd explored every avenue to a dead end. Something inside me broke then. All the negitivity, hurt an loneliness manifested as... something. Call them what you want. Demons. Tulpa. Disociative identities. Whatever. But since then I've been haunted by these two entities. One a man in a golden mask who wants me to die for him. The other's a black owl who wants me to become him. I'm not going to talk about them since that'll make them more... real?
It's been six years since I've had a friend, and two years since I've even spoken to another person, with just these two things as my only company. The only time I can get away from them is by driving my motorbike out into the middle of nowhere, away from everything. And that's what my life is now, and as far as I can tell, it's the way it's going to remain. I don't feel sad. I don't feel desperate. I don't feel anything much anymore. Just this dull heartache like an old toothache that fires up every now and again. I look at people when I'm out and I feel so distanced and alien to them, like they're another species.

If anyone has any ideas how I can get out of this situation, I would really like to hear it. But I don't know what good it will do. Positive results come from positive action, and I just don't believe anymore. I feel too persecuted and broken and hopeless to affect positive change in my life. So what do I do? How do I move this story forward?

I really don't have much advice, but I feel for you. How old are you? Have you tried any spiritual avenues? Do you take any medications? I have BP and also trying to find some relief from the pain. I hope you find a reason to keep fighting (hugs).

I'm 35.

Spiritual avenues would be the domain of one of my demons. Only bad things come out of indulging in that sort of thing.

No meds. I've never gotten any help from doctors. Not for lack of trying, mind. They just don't want any part of me.

They didn't help when this all started at 15 and life was one suicide attempt after another. They just prescribed me some drugs, then stopped the prescription after I tried to OD on them.

They scoffed at me in my 20s when my mind snapped from drugs and poor living.

They made a feeble attempt to help during the year of the chavs by sending a worker to check on me once every few weeks, but that stopped after just a couple of visits. I also briefly saw a therapist for cognitive therapy around then, but she left for maternity leave after three sessions and no one replaced her. I was also directed to attend a local help group, but the guy running it actually pulled me aside and told me that I wasn't welcome and to leave. I have no idea why - I didn't do anything wrong or out of place while I was there.

I tried again just before looking into private help, but that time they just sent me from one center to the next, always telling me that they were the wrong place until they ran out of places to send me.

And then there's the private practice which I've mentioned above. A greedy, dehumanising, manipulative, tyrant, sociopath.

I hear you and sympathize. I'm sorry you've had such a tough road.