2014-15: My family moves again. I am living at home for the third time over and struggling to do my part to help my family. My mother is constantly pressuring me to give her more and more money (for bills, I guess... she has never been up- front with me about how much is owed and to whom) and to find a better job. My problem with self- medication comes to light and I am told I am a drug addict by a mother who has taken up a rigorous drinking regimen and a brother who self- medicates with food (so we ALL have a problem, not JUST me). I am judged for it but nothing is done to help me with it. I have gained back all the weight I lost, and then some. I feel like a failure, and one of my brothers informs me that I have wasted so much of my mother's money by gaining the weight back (he is rail- thin, by the way). 2015: My family moves again. I am still living at home, struggling to find work and being constantly pressured to start bringing in money by my mother, even though she is fully aware that I am trying. I spend most of my time sitting in my bedroom, self- medicating and cutting, and just wishing that I was gone. My mother has informed me that her husband will be coming home (let's just say he's been... away) within five months and that she expects me and my brothers to be gone by then, but that she doesn't think we will make it on our own. My baby brother constantly talks down to me and treats me like a child, mainly because I cannot drive, though I am expected to care for him and his fragile ego despite the fact that he makes me feel worthless. That's pretty much where we are. This isn't everything, but they're really the key events in my life which have made me feel like I am just absolutely nothing. I have no one, no one to talk to about this, which is probably another reason why this post is so long. Any time I have tried to talk to my mother about how I feel, I am told that I don't "get" to be depressed or tired, because my life hasn't been as difficult as hers has been. But my mental life has been an endless nightmare and YES, I'm tired. I'm SO tired. And I'm alone. That's the worst part. And you know what? I'm going to be alone for a very long time. Past experiences (and the mirror) have made it CLEAR that I'm never going to find anyone to share so much as a conversation with, let alone my life. I have tried and tried to remain hopeful, but I've just been setting myself up for disappointment in doing so. So I don't even entertain the idea that my solitude might end. I have had to cultivate the idea that I'm happy being single to my family so that they don't see what I really am: an ugly, fat girl who cries by herself because she's invisible to everyone else in the world. It's not so much that I even want a relationship as someone to talk to or even give me a hug when I'm feeling like this. I'm not one to make unrealistic demands on others. But that's only a small part of why I hate myself. I hate myself as deeply as anyone can hate a person. I still think about self- mutilation, and feel fully justified in thinking that I deserve it. And actually, I lied. I don't cry by myself anymore. I don't let myself cry at all. Ever. I feel like I deserve every bit of this hell, and crying would absolutely let it out. Can't let that happen. I need to feel it all, every day. It's just that I don't know how much longer I can do this. That's why I'm trying to reach out, now. Even though another part of my brain is telling me that it won't matter, trying to tell anyone how I feel. That in letting myself live, I'm just prolonging the inevitable, that nothing has gotten better yet and so why the hell would it get better tomorrow? That my family will probably only lament the financial strain of having to bury me if I were to go through with it. Let me be clear. I'm not in danger of doing anything right now. First, I want to understand. No one here is a psychiatrist, I assume, so I'm not asking anyone to fix me, naturally. But I want to know why the hell I'm such a waste. I want to know why the HELL my mother didn't just go ahead and let my father do what he needed to do and get rid of me before I ever took a breath. I want to know why she blew it, especially since I'm such a disappointment to her now. And I want to know why my dad even bothered to adopt me if he was just going to end up throwing me away. I want to know WHY every male I've ever liked has reacted with disdain... why I have had to nurse SO MANY broken hearts and why I'm so easily thrown aside and overlooked. What is wrong with me? I have to know so I can fix it, right? I have to know that I CAN fix it, because if I can't, then I'll know for sure that I really, truly am wasting my time waking up another day and breathing the air someone else could be breathing. I just want it to stop. I just want it to be quiet in my head, finally. I need help.