I have been anxious and nervous... (this got really long, I am sorry)

I know that I should not be either of those things, especially here. Everyone is so kind and patient here. So I guess I will go for it and write until I can figure out what the true question is- that is kind of how I handle these kind of things, for future reference. Moving on...

Well, to start, I am 28 years old and will be turning 29 in late November. I have basically been on my own on and off since 2006, the year after I graduated high school. I was freshly 19 that year and things were very rough for me at that time, things have never been not rough in my life, but thankfully I was saved from what could have been an even more treacherous life when I had just turned 3. My aunt and uncle became my legal guardians and to this day I call them mom and dad, still. There is NOTHING in the world they wouldn't do for me. They are patient with MOST things pertaining to my mental illnesses and other things they have to endure. Anyways, I am getting off track, I apologize. 2006 to 2009 were very very intense for me, perhaps I will write about them another time. Late 2009 I was sort of pushed into needing to live on my own in a literal sense in my first apartment. After that a lot of things changed for the better but a lot of things became really hard as well.

As I said, my folks really are very special to me and probably are the nicest, most giving people I know. They live in the sweetest tiny town on 15 acres of land in their log home that they had built and was completed the same year I graduated. Most of their neighbors are Amish and my parents know almost every family in the area. My dad often helps them out with auctions, building, benefits and they have helped build most of the furniture in their house. So yes, great people. Very very involved with their church and helping out lost souls the best that they can! Including two of my uncles, one of my aunts, ...and my biological father. Sometimes. Long story.

For awhile now I have felt very lonely and scared to tell them things that I have gone through over the years. They know maybe 30% and I am positive they hardly have taken some of it in. When I was in the second grade my biological father took a man's life and was sent to prison. He was there until I was 18. When that happened I was thrown into therapy, put on medication almost instantly. You see, I am the youngest of eight children, my my father's only. We all got split up awhile after I was born. My parents have always been my heroes for a long time. After my father was locked away my adolescence was severely changed. Following year my oldest brother took his own life, and I was dragged into a world of sexual abuse by my best friend at the time that lasted well into middle school. (Sorry I keep dragging this out, it really helps me to figure things out by writing everything out.)

My parents always seem to have tossed me into the world of therapy, hospitals, medication, etc. for as long as I can remember rather than take the time to really nurture me. And believe me, I really needed that, because I always felt/feel (though I truly know I never was) unloved, unwanted, uncared for, and just flat out nothing to anyone at all. As a younger Elisha, I never really thought too much of it because I knew my life was different than a lot of people's, that things I went through weren't exactly normal things, and I was relentlessly bullied for having a lot of emotional problems. Lasted for years. If I was still as "social" as I was then (not very much, but I barely am these days) I probably still would get picked on because I am a sensitive little thing. Empathy for others problems definitely takes over me and makes me forget to take care of my own things. I can be such a sponge. Last few years I was in a very intense friendship with a guy from California. Not a day went by, almost, since November of 2012 until just a few weeks ago that we were not not on the phone, on Skype, texting, in eachother's company. Most of the time it was great fun and good comfort. We would watch movies together, go for walks, play games, make snacks, have a few drinks, even sometimes....a lot of times, we would fall asleep on the phone. It was a comfort for us both. Next day, one of us, mostly him, would call me after waking up if our call dropped. Then it would start all over again.

Things were great for awhile until the drinking became heavier for us both. Sometimes we would have really emotional conversations that led to crying and comfort, other times it led to arguments so violent that I can't even begin to explain, except I usually would be the one who came out in tears from those. This guy could be really mean. Time went on and he got a girlfriend who he really loved, and he was super happy, she lived in Canada so they were long distance. Yet, him and I still spent most of our days and night talking. It wasn't jealousy that I had but a fear that we weren't going to be as close...and he was one of the only people could tell anything to...but that is when a lot of really questionable things happened between us. I am beyond insecure and quiet and not very confrontational and he really was. I always felt like I was doing something wrong and I could not help this. Things did get better after awhile, until the two of them broke up. Both him and I were in terrible places. He really was so heartbroken that even I did not know how to help him. My parents and I were falling apart because I was hiding away, hiding the drinking, spending too much on drinking just so that I could be there for my friend and I could feel "better" in general.

2014 in the beginning was horrible. I was having phone problems, parents problems, mental breakdowns all of the time because my parents were finding out my secrets- things they never cared to care about before. My time with my friend became scarce. He was still in pain and as I mentioned, my empathy is so deep for others that while all the stuff was going on in my own world, all I could do was worry about him and how he was feeling. That went on for months while I was trying to make things right with my parents. Eventually I started to notice a change in him. He was starting to become very dependent on liquor, so was I, but something else wad going on and I stayed quiet so we wouldn't argue. After he would be out all night, we were three hours different in time zones, so when it was six or seven a.m. for me he would be just getting home at 3 or 4 his time. I worried so hard that I couldn't sleep until he called. I noticed that he seemed so different than usual when we drank together. And if I said one thing that he took in wrong, oh, how horrifyingly monster-y he became. The amount of threats he made to me that he probably would never remember saying is immense while I remembered everything. I let him say them and took it in like poison I was forced to drink. It was then that I realized that there had to be drugs involved.

And I was right. We had gotten into an argument one morning that led to him admitting it. I was shocked but I wasn't. All I remember is that I cried so hard for so long. For reasons I didn't understand until much later. The abusive words, the crazy phone calls, the intense cries and sadness he would call me about and all of the worry came from all of this. I felt so alone while he was off doing these things- we would really only speak when he called me on his way home, and when he would wake up hours later while I would still br a wreck and awake from the first call. Things got better...for awhile. His parents found out a lot of things and he and I both took a break from things. I thought everything would get better for good. It did not. For either of us. During those few years of being his friend I had cut off everyone, including my biological family. I cut myself off. During that time my oldest nephew, who was in college, attempted suicide. And the niece I am closest to, she was 13 at the time, was diagnosed with a form of liver cancer. And, my biological mother was struggling with emphysema. Just so much and I couldn't face any of it. Because of the constant talking I never made time for myself because I didn't want to leave him alone. My eating habits (which were never great anyway while struggling with an eating disorder for a long time) were awful because I didn't and don't like eating in front of people or on the phone. So, I just wouldn't. Already a gal with insomnia became worse from being there for him always.

I really had to do something. I was breaking, still very hurt, and because I have not a confident bone in my body, I couldn't just tell him I needed space. Oh how I wanted to!!! Instead, I had to fib and tell him that my phone was having issues. That my internet was awful, even though it actually was. I started to see my family again, and oh was that a blessing. Him and I would still chat but mostly through texts for awhile and for some reason that never worked for us... maybe it is because we are both kind of sensitive and take things the wrong way, but it wasn't good. This year, we talked a bit more but still kept our distance at times and it started to feel lonely for us both so we began our old routine. But, we were fighting all the time. Badly. During this time I wad trying to be more honest with my parents and therapist about how I really was doing, aka, HORRIBLE. If only I knew how to explain it to him, but I never could without him belittling me at times. Sometimes I was in the wrong for being so secretive...but I guess thr drug thing was something I never could let go of. To this day I can still remember how those words felt.

End of July, early August of this year I was starting to hang out with another friend I have. She is important to me but a very strange gal who happens to have Aspergers Syndrome. I love her a lot but it is not easy to confide or talk to with someone like that. It is sometimes so impossible that I have to question myself. Either way, while being with her, she was kind of dragging me into things that made me uncomfortable. Things that if she understood the reality of others and feelings, I am sure she would have felt it too. Cameron, my friend, had started to judge me for everything after I would tell him these things. Threw my mental illness in my face as though I was a crazy person. It really hurt my feelings and I know he was angry because I was hanging with a gal who probably doesn't even understand friendship. He told me that it was disrespectful to HIM. I tried to explain a few times but things never felt the same. A good two ish weeks ago he was with some friends and he texted me saying he did a bit of cocaine. I was half asleep but seeing that text message sent me so deep down into my memories of the last time that I could not say a word. I just slept. Later he called me and when I woke up I listened to his message and it felt like last time. Something happened between a friend and him, blah blah, and his friend made him get out of the car. When I didn't question him about that the next day or even speak of the coke incident he became so angry with me. Telling me I must not care about him. That a friend would have asked. Maybe so, but I just couldn't do it. I wanted to, I wanted to yell and tell him how much he hurt me last time. How unfair it was that when I did something crazy I would get beaten down into nothing and its ok for him to do things like this. Because of that day, he decided we cannot be friends anymore. Blocked my number and everything before I could even explain. Maybe it was out of fear or nervousness or addiction that he didn't want to hear it, but ever since this day, I haven't been ok.

Between that, my gal friend doing ridiculous things, and my parents so into other people's lives, trying to make everyone else feel happy and loved, having to still take care of my two uncles, aunt, and dad's bank accounts and keeping them up with bills, rent, and food... I only see them on days we all go grocery shopping or when I get picked up from therapy. I know I am an adult and these things should be done on my own, and they mostly are, but I still need a little structure from them, you know? It helps, especially when my demons keep me from being able to handle work settings and all I do is volunteer work all over, plus courses online. They are proud of me but they don't say it. They don't ask me why I sometimes don't call them for weeks, why I say "its ok, I don't need food this week", or why I have stayed back from every family function for years.

Things are really awful to be honest. Never felt so alone in my world. My identity is shaken from losing my friend. There is so much I cannot do to distract myself because everything reminds me of him, of us. Music, movies, jokes, the internet, places, so many ridiculous things... Weirdly, I still worry so hard for him. I miss him to a debilitating painful degree. Now, I just want to apologize for the novel of a post. I have not been able to talk about this with anyone. I guess I am just wondering if any of you have any comments or advice on moving on from all of this in a healthy way. I am so stuck and scared to be up front about the terrible feelings and thoughts about my life, myself, my sanity, everything. Afraid to tell ny parents because they aren't going to make me feel better, but tell me to take it up with my therapist. I am tired of it. I just feel so misunderstood because my emotions are so hard to handle, I feel too hard. There is honestly nobody left that I can trust with things because I am so embarrassed, so scared, unconfident, and insecure about myself and things.

Am I horrible?