12 posts shown.
hiddenwalker30 said:Maybe you're the one with the issue here; you can't even stand up for yourself during a roommate dispute, let alone at your job.
And what you’ve listed aren't mental disorders—they're just basic human behaviors. Everyone acts differently.
redbear2 said:First you claim you weren't trying to adapt to anyone, then you admit you were faking it the whole time?
Or are you saying you started acting a certain way only after losing all your friends by refusing to adapt?
redbear2 said:Are you sure about that?
Since you've been through the exact same ringer, maybe there’s a better way to guide him?
redbear2 said:Just because it happened to you doesn't mean it's his destiny. Besides, we gave him some advice; if he actually follows it, he'll be fine.
stormypilot72 said:Greetings, everyone. 🙂
To provide some context, I am seventeen years old and currently navigating high school. I would not characterize myself as overly withdrawn or socially awkward; my interpersonal skills are perfectly functional, and I certainly do not consider myself a loner, but...
Lately, my classmates have begun behaving quite strangely toward me—though, to be fair, this shift isn't limited strictly to my experience, as many others are facing similar treatment. There are individuals I used to be close with—people I stood by when no one else bothered to—who now treat me as if I were some sort of fool. One particular former close friend, who used to speak only to me, has since gravitated toward a different crowd and now treats me with utter indifference. 🙂
I find myself questioning whether the issue lies within my own character or theirs. Interestingly, I maintain an older circle of friends who feel more like family than anything else; because my interactions with them remain perfectly normal, it suggests the friction is likely localized to my school environment. Furthermore, my life outside of these hallways is quite fulfilling; I excel in both athletics and music, which has earned me significant praise from my teachers. Yet, curiously, ever since the faculty began to take notice of my achievements, my peers seem to have lost their respect for me. What is your assessment of this situation? Should I attempt to alter my persona, or is there another course of action worth considering? 😕
Harold Anderson3 said:I suppose I should try to summarize my life, mostly because I’m struggling to make sense of why I feel so profoundly dissatisfied with where I am and who I’ve become.
My parents split up when I was just three years old, largely because my mother battles schizophrenia. I don't have much memory of those early years, but I know what happened through the stories told by others—mostly my paternal grandmother. She once told me that my mother didn't even want to carry me, fearing she would give birth to someone like Hitler; apparently, right after delivery, she was moved from a standard maternity ward to a psychiatric unit, which meant I didn't even see her for three months. Looking back, those might have been my first real traumas—that initial absence of a mother. There was constant fighting between her and my dad, frequent hospital stays, and eventually, by the time I was three, my father pushed for and received a divorce.
For three years following the split, I lived with my grandmother, until my father remarried when I was six. That brought a stepmother and two half-brothers into the picture (one of my stepbrothers was born out of wedlock), and I grew up in that environment until I turned 18. My stepmother was a very cold, high-strung woman; she used to hit all three of us, though her biological son—the one I mentioned—usually took the brunt of it. For me, however, the physical discipline left deeper scars. In school, I was incredibly withdrawn, mostly because I was constantly weighed down by the tension at home, terrified that if I made even the slightest mistake, I'd face more violence. My teachers noticed I was quiet, but they didn't really step in; they were too busy dealing with the more disruptive kids in class, never realizing that the child sitting silently in the corner is often the one carrying the heaviest burden.
As I got older, the punishments at home decreased, but I remained an introverted, somewhat odd kid, bordering on asocial. Academically, I did quite well—I had a real knack for math and later physics—though I suspect I could have done better. During my long study sessions, my mind would frequently drift elsewhere, so I’d say my actual effective learning time was maybe twenty percent. After middle school, I transferred to a specialized math academy in a different city because my local school didn't offer anything that rigorous. Fitting in was a massive struggle; my peers saw me as strange or confused, though they accepted me well enough. I managed to graduate with solid marks, and I even placed second in a regional physics competition.
Later, I decided to move back to my hometown to attend a general high school, which turned out to be a wise choice. The workload was more manageable, and even though I felt a bit less academically driven, I passed every grade with top marks. However, during my sophomore year, I started experiencing intrusive thoughts rooted in homophobia, along with a sudden onset of emotional apathy. This loss of warmth felt like a warning sign, as it's often a precursor to schizophrenia. I felt increasingly lost as time went on, yet somehow, I still managed to finish high school with honors.
College, however, was a different story entirely. I enrolled in the engineering program at a major university in Chicago, but after a disastrous first semester, I ended up hospitalized for depression. That period led to a massive fallout with my father, and since then, I’ve had to support myself entirely. I spent the following year working various odd jobs—construction sites, warehouses (serving food just wasn't my thing)—while preparing to re-apply to school, specifically aiming for MIT. I actually had no trouble getting back in, since the entrance requirements focused mainly on math, physics, and my high school GPA.
After a second unsuccessful first semester, my mental health took a sharp turn for the worse, leading to two consecutive psychotic episodes, diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia.
I have recovered reasonably well since then. I’ve been consistently medicated for over four years now, and while things improved, they only ever stabilized to the level I was at before the psychosis. The depression, the confusion, the slowness, and the social isolation remain. This year, I finally withdrew from my studies at MIT; the curriculum is just too grueling for me—honestly, maybe any intense program would be too much for someone in my position.
Since moving to the city seven years ago, I’ve worked a lot of part-time student jobs, and everywhere I go, the feedback is the same: people describe me as anxious, confused, or antisocial. In some places, I was able to stay on, but in others, I was let go. Once, a coworker actually asked me, "Why are you so quiet? You act like someone everyone just walks all over." Another person was even crueler, asking if I was so socially stunted because of some childhood trauma involving my relatives.
My doctor is involved with a private non-profit, so I’ve been attending free group psychotherapy sessions there. In those sessions, they try to reassure me that I'm normal and that I'm just overthinking things—and granted, compared to people facing much more severe mental crises, I suppose I am. But when I step out into the world and interact with healthy, neurotypical people, I can see clearly that I am not like them, and unfortunately, many people tell me the same thing.
The hardest part for me is feeling like there isn’t any real way to change things down the road. I have this deep desire to just have a normal career and a family of my own, but given my health struggles and just how I am wired, that feels like pure science fiction. These late hours at night are especially tough on me. I find myself looking back at my past with so much negativity, feeling completely unfulfilled with where I am now, and viewing the future through a pretty pessimistic lens. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to specialists and I stay consistent with my medications—things like Risperdal, Zyprexa, Effexor, and Norvasc—and I even dive into self-help books quite often, yet I still can't shake this sense of dissatisfaction with my life. It honestly feels like everyone else is more capable and much happier than I am. Since most of my existence feels like an uphill battle, there are moments when I genuinely wish I had never been born.
I’m just hoping someone here might be able to relate to what I’m going through, and that I’ve managed to convey the weight of my situation even a little bit. Thanks in advance for listening. 🙂
Amy Williams2 said:I’ve struggled with low self-esteem and a lack of confidence my entire life. Because of that, I tend to be emotionally withdrawn. I’ve always viewed others as more valuable, more popular, and just better than me. For the most part, that was true. I usually sat at the bottom of the social ladder, and quite often, I was the one people disliked.
I honestly don't know why. I’m actually a very emotional person; I care deeply about people and think about them constantly. I have immense respect for almost everyone, unless they start attacking or bullying me. In those cases, like anyone else, I stand up for myself and fight back.
The difference is, I can't just shrug off an argument like other people do. I don't just forget it in five minutes. Instead, I’m usually left feeling incredibly guilty, like I failed again. It seems I have a conscience, which clearly doesn't mean much to most people.
I’ve dealt with constant mistreatment from certain people, so I eventually stopped trying with them. It always ends the same way: people try to put me down just to feel smarter, more important, or superior. I’ve had an unbelievable amount of bad experiences with people.
I don't know if anyone else here has dealt with as many negative interactions as I have. Most of them stem from me talking too much or reacting too quickly, even though I never actually mean anything malicious (unlike some people). Now, those "other people" are the ones who are socially valued and doing great, while I get ignored by all sorts of people simply because I talk too much or say things that hit too close to home. It’s not that I think poorly of them—actually, it's the opposite—it's just that my mouth moves faster than my brain. By the time I realize what I've said, the damage is done, and they hold it against me forever.
My most recent bad experience happened on the road. Some guy attacked me because I hesitated a second too long when trying to merge onto a highway, even though there was zero chance I could have pulled out safely with the traffic moving that fast. He lashed out at me. I reacted impulsively and nearly got punched in the face. But after that, the responses I got from people on this forum absolutely floored me. They made me question my own sanity. It feels like there are way too many crazies out there protecting one another, especially when it comes to defending someone who violently attacks a woman. Most of the people in that thread seemed to agree that it’s OK for a man to lash out and beat a woman if she flips him off after he’s been harassing her. It used to be considered normal to slap a man if he was being rude or disrespectful, but apparently now you aren't allowed to react to anything he says?
Frank Lewis3 said:Greetings. I’ve been conducting a sort of personal retrospective since my freshman year of college, primarily because I’ve sensed a persistent misalignment in my interpersonal relationships. I am looking for some perspectives here. Perhaps this falls under the realm of psychology, so feel free to approach it from whatever angle you see fit. It will likely be a lengthy reflection, so read at your own discretion.
I suppose one must start with childhood. Growing up, I was never presented with a positive model of how things should work, and there were certainly traumas involved, which I suspect lies at the heart of my current struggles. It is easy enough to rationalize these things once you reach adulthood, isn't it? But when you are just a kid, nothing makes sense—not the why, nor the how. Because of that environment, I never felt comfortable discussing emotions or anything deeply personal; instead, I spent my energy finding ways to escape that domestic reality and find some semblance of peace. I threw myself into academics and sports—anything to stay active and distracted. Even then, I could tell my anxieties were different from my peers, though I still managed to fit in.
Now, as I approach the end of my degree, I realize I haven't moved much further from that mindset. While people generally accept me, I don't engage in any profound connections. I tend to avoid deep social circles, or rather, I navigate them with a sort of half-professional detachment before retreating back into my own world.
To be honest, I haven't reached a definitive conclusion. Is it that I lack emotions entirely? I don't believe that's the case. Have I simply avoided feeling them for so long that this numbness has become my baseline? Or is it possible that some people are just fundamentally wired this way, and that is simply the end of the matter?
Regarding women, I always held onto the naive idea that "the right one" would eventually arrive. Today, however, I am not even certain if I am searching for anything at all. It isn't that I am actively avoiding it, but rather that I have no idea what I want—or if I even want anything. In an era where everything seems to revolve around superficial drama and who is sleeping with whom, I find I have zero desire to even experiment, especially when I haven't even mastered the fundamentals of my own being. How can I possibly suggest to someone that we "try holding hands" when I am still trying to figure out if I even enjoy the sensation?
I am at a loss for what else to say...
steelharbor942 said:Probably.
Living out a Christian faith isn't easy. It's much simpler to just dismiss it, mock it, or write it off as myth—then cherry-pick whatever parts of modern "spirituality" feel logical or convenient.
Angela Thompson5 said:I don't even know what the core issue is, but I’ve never seen eye-to-eye with my parents. Over the last two years, it’s spiraled into this intense resentment, hatred, and straight-up contempt. And honestly? I feel the exact same way about my relatives. Even with friends—if one tries to get close or wants to know some deep secret of mine, I just start looking down on them. Don't even get me started on guys; I've never had anyone I could actually be real with. I'm 21. Is this just a massive fear of intimacy? Why does it even happen? I'm guessing my parents are at the root of all this, since they were pretty much neglectful and cold most of my life. Raising a kid just wasn't high on their priority list.