I stumbled across your website. After years, I am 54, I realized what has caused me so much grief and agony throughout my life: rejection trauma. I was not physically or sexually abused. My mom was selfless and always there. So why do I feel sad? My circumstance entails feelings that were generated with the notion that I was never good enough, that I did not meet the expectations of my dad. That although I was a good and caring person, I was not the type of man he thought I should be. After I left home, he let it go. However, I have struggled ever since. Stupidly, I never put the two concepts together.

This may be an overlooked antecedent for men suffering from rejection trauma: I was not abused or physically neglected. However, I was never enough. Whatever I was, wasn’t acceptable or failed to meet the litmus test.

The seeds were planted. They were nurtured by mean comments from kids at school. I am almost positive my wife cheated on me and continues to be “friends” with the person with whom I suspect had the affair. I have pleaded with her to end the relationship, but she won’t. My feelings aren’t enough. I have never been invited to a party, had a close friend. To look at me, I am a totally “normal” looking person. Not one person would look at as an individual who otherwise looks like I have it all together and know the pain I have.

I enjoy watching team sports. I could never understand why I would become so emotional when a team came together after a big win, or a player did something great to be celebrated by the team. I now think that it opens those wounds: Why has there been nobody to celebrate with me when I do something noteworthy?

I am pretty much a recluse now. If I encounter somebody and I risk saying “hi” and they don’t respond, I am devastated. If someone doesn’t answer an e-mail, I become very angry. I check all the boxes for feeling slighted for everyday occurrences that trigger me. I would love to walk in a local charity event for suicide awareness, but with 1,000 attendees, I cannot run the risk of there being a situation where I may encounter not feeling like I am good enough. I avoid people at my job by arriving at 4 am and I work on Sundays. I eat alone and spend time contemplating how to get out of situations that may make me vulnerable even before they happen. I won’t talk during meetings. During presentations, I practice for hours so that I will be perfect when I must perform. Today, I reached out to someone with an idea that I thought was really good, but they responded only half-heartedly. I was embarrassed and then mad at myself for even trying. As you know, people like us are constantly walking on eggshells– not for fear of upsetting other people, but for the risk of being anything other than invisible.

Why do I write you today? I am not sure. At 54, I have reached a point that I feel like throwing in the towel. No, I won’t hurt myself. But I am nearly ready to give up on everybody. My bedroom is where I tend to live.

My kids are starting to leave the home to pursue college and careers. Will they even call or text me other than my birthday and holidays? My wife is satisfied with keeping me at arm’s length. We work at the same place but we are never seen together. I know she is embarrassed of me.

At this point, I am not sure I even want to change.

I don’t necessarily want help. You don’t have to respond. Maybe this isn’t the right forum. I don’t want a friend and I am not looking for sympathy.

I needed to get this in writing. At least there will be one other person who understands. To you, I just came out of the closet as a rejection trauma victim. You are the only one- a complete stranger because I have no one else.

I know you understand the importance of your work. This type of affliction haunts so many people under the radar. I want to encourage you to keep advocating. I hope there is a young person out there who can be saved.

Anyway, thank you for listening.

My best–

Jim