Lonely

When I was 17 years old, my grandmother told me one night that as long as she was alive, I would never have to be lonely again.
I think the night before she told me that is the last time I've felt this lonely. 
I am a single parent who doesn't fit in among single parents because one, I'm a guy and two, I don't have stories about divorce - my marriage was happy until she died. But above all I'm damaged - I don't have stories about how my parents brought me up. Not ones they would want to hear anyway. Who wants to hear about rape and violence?
I am an former drug addict who doesn't fit in among other former addicts because I don't have long, soppy stories to tell about how AA saved my life. AA nearly killed me. 
I am a sexual abuse survivor who doesn't fit in among other survivors because I'm not an innocent victim like them - I have blood on my hands and they don't want me to pollute their nice, orderly community with it.
I could carry on and on but the fact is that I don't fit into any particular group. And the only two people who got me are dead. 
The only person I have left to talk to is my brother, who gets triggered when I talk about abuse so... yeah. So much for that. 
Welcome to the rest of my life.
How the fuck am I supposed to live like this?