My life has been a fairly odd journey thus far, and I'm having trouble getting along recently.
I'm currently 24, and am attending a community college for Network Administration. I work part time to make ends meet as a cashier, and I am ashamed to admit I live with my father still. I'm having a really hard time communicating with him. I'll try to explain how this all started, though.
When I was 14, I moved away from Moncton, where I had lived all my life, to Cincinnati. I lived a fairly typical life there. Life was tough, but fair, and I didn't really get along with my mother very well. My favorite story to tell when describing my relationship with my mother is the story where she asked me if I was gay for about 2 months straight, several times a week, almost daily. I denied it on every single occasion, but she reassured me that she loved me and would accept me regardless, and that I could trust her. Eventually, she caved and admitted that she likely would have kicked me out had I said "yes", since she "Didn't raise a fag". There wasn't a lot of trust or love in our relationship.
Fast forward to college. I met this girl, and fell in love. It was startling how immediate the attraction was; like a "Love at first sight" kinda thing, if you'll forgive how cheesy it is. I swiftly fell in love, and dated her for two and a half years. I even moved in with her, and my mother moved back to Ontario. I was happy, for a bit. However, something tragic happened in her life which kind of shattered her perceptions of things. I was ignorant; I was working 30 hours a week while going to school full time for my Bachelor of Science in biology, so I wasn't as attentive as I should have been. She barely even mentioned it at the time. About a month later, she left suddenly, and without explanation. I had to move back to my mother's in Niagara Falls, a region I had never lived in before. I enrolled in a local university and tried to start things back on the right track. I failed. Miserably.
Going back to University was a struggle for me. I barely attended class, I skipped assignments, I practically only ever showed up for tests. In the first quarter of my fourth year, my last year, I failed. I failed hard. I passed one course the whole quarter. I began to spiral out of control, but couldn't turn to anyone. In my grief from having lost the only woman I'd ever really loved, I'd lashed out and pushed away all my old friends; my parents were of little use, since I didn't trust them. I had to internalize this. From December until October of the next year, I lied about my life to my mother at home. I told her I was still attending school, that everything was fine. I mostly wandered around the town, on foot, aimlessly when I should have been going to school. I even said I'd graduated when I hadn't. I spent about six hours a day aimlessly wandering around town for six months living a lie. I had frequent panic attacks wondering when I would be found out. It took almost a year of this before I decided I had to come clean or just end it already. I decided to confess to my father, living in my hometown of Moncton. He was shocked, but agreed to let me live with him. I hopped on a plane to Moncton without so much as saying a word to my mother.
I began attending courses at a community college here, working part time to make things work. I live at my father's house to save money. I eventually confessed to Mother what had happened, too. My father has been... Understanding, I suppose, of things thus far, but I have a hard time living with him. He's the type to let sleeping dogs lie. He'll pretend nothing is wrong in order to maintain the status quo. This is really hard to get along with for me, since I require change to happen, difficult though it may be, but am too despondent to actually put forth the effort to change things much myself. Problem is, I cannot directly open up to him, and he constantly deflects my signs of stress or recurring depression and shuts them out. I have gone by weeks without so much as speaking to him, yet he does nothing, never asks if I am OK or anything.
I am a week away from graduating, but honestly, I don't feel accomplished at all. My birthday is on Father's day this year, and what really triggered this depressed episode tonight was that I didn't work that day. I had it off. I really hoped I'd work that day.
Being in Moncton, logically, was my only real option. I couldn't live anywhere else and go to school, but coming back here has been an awful experience. I hadn't seen my father's family since I left, including his new wife (my step mother) and her children. They were around my age, maybe a tad older. Since it's father's day and my birthday, I'll be expected to be nice and courteous to them, and they to me. But I hate seeing them, because they knew me when I was 14; they can see what a failure I turned out to be, and it burns me up that they're all thinking it all the time but never say it. I wish I never came back here, where I have to explain to people I knew from back when I was 14 why a 24 year old me is working as a cashier at a grocery store. I feel such intense shame, considering I was a straight-A student. I prided myself on being a genius, but I've failed to achieve anything in all my life.
Having read all that, do you hate me? Because I sure do. Typing this has been a struggle. I cant go back and proofread or correct because it has been so hard to type in the first place. I hate what I did. I hate that I was so weak I feel despondent when she left. I hate that I let my life become this. I hate that I abandoned my mother without a word. I hate that I still have no friends. I hate that I have to look in the mirror every day and realize that nothing is getting better; I'm still the failure I always was. I hate that I have been working so hard to graduate this stupid community college course, only to realize, a week from having it done, that it means NOTHING! It changes NOTHING. I can't stand it. I hate it that my father prefers to pretend nothing is wrong with me despite all the evidence to the contrary. I hate everything.
How do I pick up the pieces from here? What can I do? I can't believe that Canada, a country that prides itself on having free Medicare for it's citizens, has so few mental health options for those who need it. I feel helpless. Medication for depression is not covered, I can't get to a psychologist or therapist since I can't afford it, and it's 130$ a month for meds to make my emotions feel "balanced".
If you've read this far, I commend you for tolerating my horrible grammar and sentence structure as I attempt to vent at 4:00AM while at one of the lowest emotional points I have been in the past two years. You must be a saint, or derive some kind of pleasure from seeing it.
tl;dr: I'm a shut-in who is about to graduate, frustrated that my degree means nothing and upset because I am so introverted now that I cannot relate to people, and my father is well-meaning but inconsiderate which makes him hard to live with since he does not actively strive for change on my part.
Ask me anything if you need clarification on this mess of garbled text.