At time of writing, I'm 21 and living with parents mostly due to financial reasons, but also because of mental issues (depression, etc). Throughout the majority of my life, I have been subject to various forms of bullying, from typical places such as school and generally out and about, to places you'd least expect like church. From a young age, people would provoke me to the point of lashing out, in which case I would always, bar no occasion, be portrayed as the overall initiator, and the actual bullies would go unpunished. By the time I had finished primary school/kindergarten (don't know the US equivalent), I was pretty much an emotional wreck.
I started secondary/high school with trust issues about my new colleagues. Not even a month into the first year, I was already reduced to suicidal tendencies because bullies from the previous school were already there and recognised me. This would later serve as an excuse for future bullies to make a laughing stock of me throughout the next five years. Also about this time, I had (ironically) became a Christian and, by default, hung around with two other Christians who went to the same church. By the second year, they too had also decided to pick on me, one of them even carried it over to Sunday service (verbally). I drifted from various friend groups from different years throughout the first three years before finding a group who genuinely accepted me for who I was.
Of course, them being the year above, they left and eventually dropped out of contact. People got on with me by this time, but looking back I wouldn't have considered them "friends" as such, more like people with whom I could enjoy their company when no one else wanted me around. I went from school to college to study media, with the intention of going into screenplay. But where my lack of solid social interaction with other people left me with...'unique' interests that no one else shared or felt comfortable with, I finished college, barely passing the course because the majority of the class didn't want to know me...at least in this case, they had a reason.
Also during college, I got my first job, part-time, at a local in-store restaurant/café. The manageress was pretty mean and very strict, going as far as forcing me to serve bacon which, in its raw state, was dropped on the floor on one occasion. If I didn't hear an instruction, rather than repeating what was asked, I would be met with phrases such as "you've been here long enough to know how to do it." My hours were constantly being reduced and, on my last day, was almost forced to work overtime with no extra pay. The following job was working in a hotel...initially a day-job, I was also roped into bar work in the lobby. The staff were mostly stuck-up and creepy. My day job entailed me to tidy up after the chambermaids in a hotel with over 200 rooms by myself...something which took my FOUR bosses combined about an hour to complete, and thus they expected me ALONE to do it in less time. I ended up literally walking out after my shift without resignation...it took them three days to realise I had left. When they realised, one of the creepy bar managers left me a message over Facebook asking if I had left.
My plan on taking a year out before university to work wasn't going so well, as I was employed by an agency to work in telesales only to be forced to leave because of my hay fever after four months. And another agency, although recruiting me, never actually required me for work. Whilst this is happening, I left my old church to go to one where I had better relationships...at least, I did at the time. After a week at a Christian festival, I had a mental breakdown after being left alone throughout the week, except during meals and, obviously, sleeping in a shared tent. Since then, I found myself not being allowed to join in with most of their trips, sometimes due to age, sometimes due to financial reasons, and sometimes because I was between jobs. That led to me gradually becoming less involved in the overall group and, after another breakdown, decided to give up on church - and religion - altogether.
University didn't last long for me because of my mental health, and lasted one semester. In desperation, I contacted a company about web design, as I was by this time interested in the internet. However, this was only to learn more about the course and, despite my initial answer, I was pressured into accepting the course. I was admitted to a mental institute a month later, and missed the deadline to back out, leaving me with a minimum debt of £5k...maximum being £11k. Some people visited me, but only because I told them I was being admitted...had I not told them, I doubt anyone would have bothered to visit, let alone find out why I've been missing. Sadly, I felt safe at the hospital, knowing that everything I could cope with would be a few metres away.
I'm now stuck in a part-time job which I started same time as university, except there's no chance of earning full-time work either in the same store or elsewhere...everyone apparently wants drivers, qualified people or people with experience in specific roles...if not all three. Because of this, I rarely see any of my 'friends'. I did, however briefly it was, make some friends through the website Youtube, and occasionally attended any gathering that occurred. At first, they seemed exciting and a great way to meet new people. But lately, even the newer people to the site have more social interactions with others than me.
After all this, it leaves me in a position where if I want to talk to someone, I have to to initiate the conversation every time. I did tell someone once that I didn't have constant contact with most people, to which they told me that I need to make more effort...if I "made more effort", I would essentially be carrying out a role-play where I would play myself AND the person I'm trying to talk to.
And to top this all off, just when I thought I had finally found a best friend, I almost jeopardise the friendship when he asked to 'experiment' with me (I'm bi-curious), and afterwards he felt so awkward and ashamed that he threatened to kill himself if anyone knew what had happened...I now feel guilty knowing that I caused him to feel that way. We've been friends for just over a year now, so far.
(PS. Anyone who suggests I see a counsellor will be wasting their time. I've seen four different people. Two of them all asked the same questions: "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Are you studying?" Basically, irrelevant questions that offer no solution to lifting my depression. The third started asking me if I believed I had superpowers, if I could fly or read people's minds, before admitting me into the mental institute. The last one I saw, before I left, did not understand anything I said when I started talking about my worries of being bi-curious, particularly when I started explaining one of my "fantasies" and how I felt uncomfortable knowing I had one. Everyone else just thought I was deliberately attention-seeking.)