I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing in my life. I grew up isolating myself from family and any friends I could make. I never talked much at all. Always quiet. I don’t know why either.

Growing up in my teens, I went through the scene or emo phase. I just assumed I was depressed and kept it to myself for years. I told some friends I talked to if they asked why I was so quiet all the time. Maybe I still am, but I don’t know. I’m in my 20’s now and still am quiet, bad at making friends, bad memory, and lost.

I had both my parents, but they never really talked to me much either. They were there for the most part however they could, but I was their first child, so they weren’t sure on how to be parents yet, or so I assume.

My mom was either working or watching her soap operas. She would talk and get me to talk but it would never last long because I would go to my room and just play video games or play guitar. My dad was either working, out with his friends drinking, or just watching TV.

He’s quite like me but he at least had confidence and could talk to people. He never really shared much at all about himself. I only know a few things about him by observing or listening to him. I have 3 other siblings.

A half older brother blooded younger sister, and blooded younger brother. But I’m the outcast to them. I was always mean to my younger sister, but I don’t know why. Maybe that’s just siblings are. We are better now at talking and stuff but that’s only when I visit my family really. I was sort of close to my younger brother. We would play video games sometimes, or wrestle. But now, we don’t talk much. He also doesn’t talk much. (Maybe it’s a guy thing in my family?)

My mother and sister are the talkative ones. I always wanted to be close to my older half-brother. He didn’t live with us when I was growing up. He lived with our grandma. I always wanted to visit and did sometimes, but he never really had time for me. Or at least, seemed like he didn’t want to spend time with me. I would come over and isolate myself in his room playing on the computer, but he would either leave to his friends or his gf.

He was very popular guy, even more than my sister, I think. But when I would go over, he would be drunk or high. He probably thought I never noticed. One time I spent the night and heard him snorting stuff. I knew it was drugs but ignored it.

Then one day. He promised me he would take me out to eat to get some hamburgers. (I was quite a chubby kid growing up and loved junk food.) But he got sent to jail the next day. Turns out it was for robbery. I’m sure that didn’t help my depression I had it. I couldn’t bring myself to cry at home because my father would get upset that I was crying. I always cried a lot about stuff.

Don’t know why. I was always afraid of showing my emotions around him. Him and my mother were separated for a while when I was young. Lived with my mom in an apartment and visited dad sometimes (at least I think I did, bad memory). Growing up, my dad was also in and out of jail for drinking and driving. But for after a while, I didn’t care. I cared for him but was just too used to it. It’s as if, I was starting to not feel emotions.

The only times my dad would show emotions was when he was really drunk. He would always come to my room crying and telling me he loves me. Telling me not to become like my older half-brother. Took me years to realize that my dad does care about me, he just sucks at talking about his feelings or expressing them. My older half-brother if out of jail now. But we’re not really close at all. I’ll see him sometimes and try to make small talk. But I’m still very bad at it.

During my teenage years, I began to drink and smoke pot. Had a friend who did it. My first ‘best friend’ you could say. After some years, I moved out of my parents. Isolated myself from them. Had no friends. Told my parents not to tell anyone where I lived because I just wanted to be alone. I don’t know why. I think, I secretly wanted a place to live where no one could find me if I ever killed myself. I will admit, I had thought about it. Still do sometimes. But can never bring myself to do it. I don’t know why though. I was just always sad. Maybe I was depressed. It seems I never know anything.

I’m seeing a pattern here as I write this. Don’t know anything. I’ve been wanting to see a psychologist for CBT but can’t afford it. I think I grew up isolating myself too much. Was it from depression? Were my parents not involving me enough? I think I was lonely but never talked about it. My parents were always out partying every weekend when I was growing up. I ended taking care of my siblings sometimes. To this day, I still feel like I don’t know anything. I’ve been working on it but it’s hard when I don’t know I’m doing it right or making any progress.