Hello, I have barely posted because in the past because my thoughts and actions are what I would call dissociated. I might think of getting help, or doing this or doing that but in the end I end up doing not even half of what I intend to and it always takes me a few months to do something new, like writing this post. I intend to write this to try to make sense of myself and why things have gone the way they have and to see what other people thinks When I was in school, I was bullied. Not a lot and nothing extreme but enough to leave a mark I believe. Other kids would gang up and ridcule me and sooner or later I would end up in a fight with one or many of them. This pretty much ended in Highschool but as I remember it, I wasn't the most social guy. during the half an hour break we had in school I had always preferred to take a walk while talking with someone than play football. After school I would go straight home most of the time. Retreating inside me became a habit. In the last years of High school is when I can now identifiy as being depressed even if then I didn't thought of it like that. I would feel alienated and apathetic with everything and everyone and I soon developed a taste for videogames, which I would play for whole days at a time. Another habit I picked up while in Highschool would be to listen to music for a few hours while walking up and down my room inmersed in my thoughts which a lot of times were escapist fantasies. I have to note that I wasn't feeling depressed all the time but I now think I didn't have a normal and healty social life during my childhood and teenage years. At some point I developed an aversion to simply go out and be seen around town. I could but I needed a good reason for it and I wouldn't spend more time than the necessary out. I think it was mostly some form of shame for seeing myself as so out of place and unable to fit in. After one or two years of university, I had made at least one good friend out of my flatmate who had issues of his own as well as lost contact with most people in my town. One summer after uni I went out around it to take a walk and see how people where doing just to find some of my old classmates, all of them changed and a lot more laidback due to the use of drugs. That sort of scared me and I decided I didn't want to get close to them. My depressive moods came and went. I spent a New Year's Eve alone. I never got really close to anyone in my class. I went through uni in a robotic manner. I could get tangled up reading stuff I had to read but for the most part I ended up feeling that my studies were more like a chore. When I finished uni after six years I felt directionless and without motivation and ended up spending at the very least six months pretty much locked up at my parents house. Eventually I decided to move abroad for six months since I felt that I lacked experience in life and moving to anohter country might provide it. I knew I couldn't run away from my problems or my feelings but that a little adventure could help me sort things out. Little did I know that after four years I would end up feeling way worse than I could have ever imagined. I got involved in doing things and decided to stay longer wanting to go back home at some undefined point. I did shitjobs for about a year and a half and I had good moments and bad moments until I got to a point where I was unemployed and stressed. My motivation dropped suddenly and I spent the days in front of the computer, unable to concentrate in doing anything to improve my situation. All the friendships I had made up to that point were of dubious character and in this state I let them talk me into things I now regret. This period triggered a severe depression in me. I was having suicidal thoughts daily. At different times, I was stressed, I experienced anxiety and burn out as well as memory loss. My back became stiff as a single contracture, I couldn't sleep and sometimes I had nightmares. I couldn't concentrate. For a couple of months I was waking up sleep drunk, feeling nausea. I lost appetite. I started smoking again. I didn't get to harm myself seriously because when I saw that this would happen, I left my flat and went back to the youth hostel I initially stayed for my first ten months to limit my isolation. With less privacy and more people around I have so far prevented self harm. One week I switched my phone into silence and didn't talk to anyone. By the time Friday rolled in I wasn't eating anymore and I would not pick up the phone even if it was from my job. I got more or less back on track the next Monday and decided that I had to go see my GP. I also told my exgirlfirend that I was depressed just to be met with an utter lack of empathy if not outright contempt as I expected, since that had been her reaction on other ocasions. For some reason, complaining about my state made her really angry. My GP redirected me to a local free counselling service from which I never heard back and never contacted since I couldn't find the will to do it. Time has passed and after a few months everything has sort of faded away. I still have suicidal ideatons, although not as often. I still feel depressed, but I am not waking up and going to bed wishing I ceased to exist. I find hard to take control of my life and have social activity, let alone build relationships. My feeling is that I have never been able to have normal life and that I have fucked myself irreparably. I am the only one to blame as I come from a decent family. I have kept to myself and distanced from everyone close to me and now I don't feel they should bear the burden of my problems. And I fear falling again into depression as hard as this last time. This is my story as best as I can express it at the moment. It is not a full picture but I feel I have written enough for one day.