• Sentient Loom
      link
      fedilink
      English
      3
      edit-2
      1 year ago

      Extremely depressing, socially isolating, psychologically warping. I’m a responsible, intelligent, ambitious person, but I’m not a functioning human. I’m severely and permanently damaged by poverty, even though I grew up in Canada. I’m 40 but I just managed to start a career about two years ago because I’m borderline unemployable and emotionally unbalanced (I worked my ass off at careers for 20 years, and utterly failed, constant burnout and humiliation, social assistance, moving back into a parents’ tiny apartment). I work remotely which is the only way I can ever hope to maintain a steady job. I can’t maintain normal relationships because I was largely denied social interaction growing up, and my brain can’t cope with social things now. I stopped trying to force myself to learn because it was literally decades of torture that didn’t work. People keep telling me I’m autistic but all the doctors say “nope, you’re just fucked up” (actually they use words like “personality disorder” and PTSD and anxiety disorders and ADHD and other stuff. I have a long list of diagnoses for which no treatment was offered except pills which mostly don’t work, although I’ll admit that ADHD meds helped me get a bunch of work done and also straightened out my brain a little bit. I don’t take them anymore but the positive effects are still with me).

      Now, it looks like I’m doing a lot of complaining here. But in truth I’m just describing my “no hope” landscape. Hope sounds like poison. I have things to do, and right now I have a pretty good life.

      • @intensely_human@lemm.ee
        link
        fedilink
        31 year ago

        Yeah that sounds a lot like my current life. I’m 41, broke, can’t keep a job, socializing is painful, country upbringing. Whatever happened in my childhood did something like that to me.

        But I was asking what it was like, not so much what outcomes did it have on your adult life. If it’s too painful to relive it you don’t have to, but I was curious. What was it like, when you were a kid?

        • Sentient Loom
          link
          fedilink
          English
          61 year ago

          We moved around a lot, almost always rural. I had a big family so they were always a close crew, but also always very strained and stressed. We had a Nintendo and bicycles. I usually had friends around until I was 11, but then we literally just moved out into the forest where there was nobody else. For 7 awful years I was like in a prison. I lost the ability to communicate, but not the desire. I dreaded the summers because I knew I wouldn’t see a single person outside my family. My parents were constantly stressed, always on a sour mood. The forest was hard on them too. I would mostly try to entertain my siblings amd read books. Depression became the biggest feature of my life. There was just nobody. Then I would go back to school in the fall and I didn’t know how to communicate anymore, and was constantly sad and lonely. But I denied those feelings because I didn’t want to be a bitch.

          My very young life was awesome. Until I was maybe 7 or 8 we always had tons of family and friends around, including when we lived in rural villages. We were poor but so was everybody else. But we had to keep moving to chase work, and I always lost those relationships. And then as I described above we moved out to the absolute woods and my brain started to rot. I really have no idea what “hope” could even have looked like.

          There were good times too. My siblings and I would explore the forest. We followed a river up a mountain until there was no river anymore (its weird to see it getting smaller and smaller until there’s nothing). We built sledding tracks. We found an abandoned cemetery from the 1700s just in the middle of the forest.

          Mostly I just read books. And that’s still what I do.

          • @QuiteQuickQum@lemmy.world
            link
            fedilink
            41 year ago

            Thank you for talking online. It might not appear to be much, but it is. You’re connecting and communicating your pain. Hopefully we merry chums can take on some of the burden you feel. Keep going; this is your one shot and it doesn’t have to be noteworthy to anyone but yourself.