I feel like I completely squandered my youth and wasted my life. I spent my late teens and early twenties doing nothing. I worked, I wasted money, I spent my free time sitting at home, in my mom's basement. I never went to college, so I never had a "wild oats" period of my life. Society seems to dictate that young SWM act a certain way or get involved with certain things. I was never interested in the stereotypical male tropes, I didn't care about sports, I didn't drink, I didn't party, I had no friends. I watched/went to movies, listened to music, and was a socially awkward geek. By 25, I had finally had my first girlfriend and lost my virginity, but I was still living with my mom. I had barely experienced anything in life.

I had my own apartment for roughly a year, before moving back in with friends, random housemates, and eventually my mom and then my dad's. I was almost 30, when I started dating my first wife. She had health issues and I quickly fell into the same role I played with my mom, the caretaker. I never developed a sense of self worth or identity. I was just there to help out at home with my mom, her 2nd husband, and their two kids. I never went anywhere without being asked where I was going or what I was doing. I ultimately felt that trying to go out with friends was pointless. I had no friends and I had nowhere to go. When I was married, I was my wife's husband and was just along for the ride. Once she got over her health issues, she reverted to the person she was before me. I was left behind; bitter, resentful, alone.

I spent my late thirties working, a lot. I was living with my dad again, with no direction in my life, no friends, nothing that identified me. I was never as Conservative as my dad or my brother, which meant I couldn't really talk to them about certain issues. I was still shy, geeky, and increasingly misanthropic. I was beginning to see how fucked up everything is. My depression was taking over. I was always a bit of a sullen kid, even in grade school. I never was good at making friends. I got along with others well enough, but I never really fit in anywhere. I don't keep in touch with anyone from high school, I wouldn't know what to talk about anyway. 

At 40, I finally was living on my own again. It was 2019, just before COVID hit. I decided to try and put myself out there, looking for like minded people, secular, geeky, liberal, etc. I had only been in two relationships with women and I never felt comfortable with the idea of randomly hooking up with people, but part of me wished I could. I just never could figure it out and so, I started going to concerts alone, to movies alone, to coffee shops and bookstores alone. I started trying marijuana and really got into music again. I was still alone, trying to not think about the ongoing shit storm of the political landscape in this country. The news became unbearable. I didn't want to think about anything. I made an attempt to get out there and the world shut down almost immediately. I was angry, but I knew that anger was pointless, so I kept it to myself. 

Somehow, I managed to meet someone and in a whirlwind of a romance, we were engaged within less than a year. A bright spot for sure, but I still have this angst and existential dread that I can't quite explain. Now we're living in a new town, a smaller town where I know no one. A fresh start, but it means facing the reality that I don't know what I want. Nothing has made me happy enough to be sustainable. I don't know. I'm told that isn't an answer and it makes me resentful. I can't explain what I'm feeling and I fantasize about being dead all of the time. I don't want to hurt the one person in my life who actively supports me, but the truth is... I don't know if I want any of this anymore. I am worried I will ruin things with my 2nd marriage like I did with my 1st. I just don't know and I can't figure out what to say or how to explain it. I'm either miserably sad one minute or seething with anger the next and I don't know why. It's been with me for years and I just have accepted it, but it exhausting. 

How do I tell someone this without offending them? It's me, it's always been me. I haven't even felt comfortable telling my therapists this. What's the use? I'll either be locked up for my own good or pumped full of drugs. It's a joke.