This probably will end up being a vent (and a wall of text...sorry), and my train of thought will most likely shift from one thing to another within this body of text for which I apologize in advance. I recently turned 21. To be frank, I didn't think I'd make it past 16, but here we are. I suppose once I passed the 16 y.o line, i started to overcompensate for that thought of not making it past 16 by always having a plan. Not just one plan, but plan B, C, D and even more. Maybe that is how I distracted myself from whatever the hell always lurks in the back of my mind. The parasitical desire to cease to exist that I've had since 13 for sure. If i think of it, I can't really remember what lead to me becoming like this at 13. It's just blank in my mind whenever I try to pinpoint why it all started. I know that it stems from the environment I grew up in, my family. Don't get me wrong, I know for a fact that my parents love me a lot, I just never felt the love myself, though my rational side knows for a FACT that I was loved. This also haunts my own love life and my relationships with others. Whenever a guy expresses romantic interest in me, ngl I always get very defensive, it's almost like I surround myself with a citadel and refute any romantic advances. For some time I even thought I might be aromantic. I was proved wrong by life's surprises. Though that guy I likewise liked for 3 years got scared and disappeared for months, and that we never actually were in an official situation, that experience made me realize that I am maybe unfortunately able to love. After that my perception of relationships with others, even platonic ones, suffered a lot. Perhaps because that whole ghosting thing happened simultaneously with me drifting apart with my close friends of more than 11 years, as well as living abroad with a feeling that none of my friends there actually care about me beyond their convenience. Actually, I think I might've lied. I didn't not want to live consecutively from 13 to 21. I might be blinded by nostalgia, but 2023 was probably the only year where I actually felt happy to be alive. It was my senior year, the guy I mentioned previously and I were at the peak of our interactions, my beloved friends were with me almost everyday. And then it all stopped; end of 2023, pretty much everyone left for universities abroad, I stayed back for a gap year before leaving myself. Start of 2024 was the decline in my mental health, though it wasn't even that bad. Middle to end of 2024 though...that is another story. I moved and naturally I'd experience stress, but it just felt so bad. The hole of depression I seemingly have dragged myself out of suddenly yanked me back. It felt horrible, all the effort it took me to get better suddenly came crashing down as if someone blew at a house of cards. I figured out about myself that I'm a cyclic type of a person that despite feeling like quitting would still drag myself to whatever goal I have. So seeing all the progress disappear was a hard blow. For the first time in 4 years I had a very bad urge to relapse. I remember having to physically pull away sharp objects away from me so I wouldn't go back to that stupidity again. I felt so alone, my only highlight to move forward was the fact that I'll get to see my family again after a year even if I'd be home for less than 2 months. It's so ironic because when I was younger I always wanted to get away from home and thought that once I will, everything with me might get better. I do want to preface that the root cause of what shaped my house to lead me to what I currently struggle with was my horrendous grandmother that lives with us (a very common practice in Central Asian countries). That woman is genuinely so evil, I'd equate her to religious depictions of hypocrisy, greed, gluttony and pride. I kid you not, I am actually seriously grandmaphobic no matter how funny it might sound. Whenever I see grandmas in public, I find them so repulsing, they all look like they're pretending to be all withering. I do always try to brush this off and not judge people based on my own experiences. This will come handy in what I'll say later. Next year abroad was easier as the time I spent there was less during my first year, it wasn't that much easier on my mental health. The last few months before I left were hard due to my close friend there going through a rough patch. There have been multiple instances where she'd get upset at me even though I didn't do anything. Knowing that she isn't exactly doing well mentally either, I brushed past my own feelings and would take the first step in mending things myself. There have been multiple instances where she'd cry in my shoulder, in private and in public. I'd spend a night comforting while she's hysterically crying in my arms. I'd run from the other side of the campus past 12am to stop her from ending things, run into her room and throw knives out in the hallway and comfort her for hours while treating her wounds. I never expected anything in return, I am ready to do that to any stranger without a shadow of doubt. But I will also be a liar if I didn't say that her turbulent behavior didn't affect me. I was going through hard times just as I was helping her out, her outbursts would get very tiring because she'd depend on me comforting her whenever she's having an outburst. She even slightly hurt my hand while I was trying to calm her down while she was smashing stuff in a uni restroom. That happened after she was upset when she saw me with her former friend that recently broke off her friendship with her and she was so upset given the fact that she's unstable that she told she was on the verge of beating her boyfriend again. Either way, I already said I never expect help from anyone in regards to my metal health, however, she did know that I was doing very bad during that same time. That alongside me constantly monitoring her emotional state, drained me a lot. So I told our other friends that have seen her outbursts previously that her emotional dependence on me worsened my mental state by a lot. The pedestal she put me on after doing what any caring friend would do weighed heavily on me. If it was anyone else, I'd have no issues telling them that their behavior is damaging to me, but given just how unstable she was and how she blew up when she saw me with that former friend of hers, I concluded that it wasn't in both of our best interests to discuss something like this right before exams. So I thought of waiting it out or talking it through when I'll be in my home country. She did find out that I told my friends that I was feeling drained when I was back home, Not through me. Another mutual friend of ours told her about that when he was defending that previously mentioned former friend of hers when she was shit talking her on her private stories. After she found out about that, she publicly called me a very insulting word (if translated into english it'd be something like a pimp/prostitute, just MUUUCH more harsher), and said that I'm a two faced person etc. Exactly why I didn't tell her that I was feeling drained by her at that moment. It just felt so depreciating. I've done so much expecting exactly 0 in return, because I genuinely cared for that person, even though I was on the verge of relapsing, and now I'm the bad person. We had a confrontation where I explained my stance from A to Z while I was already home. That worsened my perception of others yet again. I saw everyone near me as someone who just wants me for some time to gain something and doesn't actually care for me at all. Alongside this, a very big fight broke at my house. That crazy grandmother of mine put out a choice to my dad—either her or our cat...Our cat that has been living with us for more than 4 years, the same cat that is probably the most quiet cat ever, the same cat that doesn't cause trouble, the same cat that is one of the constant joys in my and my family's life. Especially my mom's life, who that POS was actively trying to ruin ever since she married my dad. So naturally my mom got very upset when my dad asked her and us to live at my mom's parent's for 2 weeks so that crazed woman could calm down. I was woken up with the words that I need to pack my stuff cuz we're leaving. I came home after 9 months of being alone, and this is the shit I have to deal with. I admit, I might be a bit traumatized because when I was younger, whenever we'd go to my grandparent's house, that meant that mom and dad fought big time. I started having a major mental meltdown, I was so lonely and homesick for all these months just for the peace I was longing for so bad to be destroyed by that woman. I genuinely wished I could just end her there. All the demise she has brought to this family, zero fucking self reflection. While I was breaking down in front of my parents, I didn't realize it before my mom called it out, but I was scratching my arms and face very badly. After I realized that i wanted to cry even more. Almost 6 years of not harming myself just to be led to do it again and in front of my parents nonetheless. I wasn't mad at my mom for wanting to leave for some time to her parent's, it's just that everything I've been holding in for so long was let out at once. All the loneliness, all those thoughts that no one ever gives two thoughts about me. That I can't have peace even at home. Ever since that happened, I've been very emotional. The usual me that would cry maybe 1-2 times a year has been crying at least once a week. I just feel so unwanted, no matter what I do, no matter how much empathy I have for other, no matter how much I understand others, no one ever even listens to me. I'm always just alone at the end of the day. The only reason why I'm still here is because of God. You might not be religious yourself, but can you really blame me for loving God so much when He was the only one I could cry to all these years? Others say that suicide is a major sin that will put you in hellfire, but I don't agree with that. My God calls Himself the Most Merciful, how can he not forgive me for doing that? He surely forgave all my attempts, He knows just how hollowing it is to live for me. How can the Most Merciful really not forgive someone who was so tired of everything that the only seeming escape is to return back to Him? Especially when mental issues are recognized in my theology. I'm just so tired. I feel like shit after my parents found out that i have been feeling this way since 13. I love them so much, I simply don't believe it's morally right to let a parent know that their own flesh and blood is feeling this way, especially when they cannot relate or even understand why.
P.S. I'm not officially diagnosed with anything, though i think it is pretty obvious at this point that I have at least some type of depression. I do want to eventually go to a therapist, I just don't want to be medicated. I already have so much struggles expressing emotions, I don't want that to be numbed even more. Moreover, I just dislike people in psychological/psychiatric practice. Long story short, I was locked up in a room with 4 more girls by my school's stationed psychologist and wasn't let out of there until I shared what mental hardships I was having against my will. I know that there are a lot of wonderful people in those professions, i just do not feel comfortable yet going to them even though that has happened when I was 14.