Hi, I don't really know how to start this, but I think I genuinely need some advice and support—or at least one person who's been through something similar and would actually get it. I'm 19 right now, and in two weeks I'll be starting my second year of university. And on paper, everything's fine—I have three best friends, but... I don't know. Every time I try to open up to someone about what's going on, no one understands, and I can't blame them, because thank God they've never had to go through this, but I really need to know I'm not the only one, and I really need someone to help me.
I don't feel anything. Actually, I feel everything, because I'm a really sensitive person, but those feelings don't feel real. I think I'm dealing with derealization and depersonalization, because for the last five years I've just been existing, going through the motions without actually thinking. I mean, I live my life like everyone else, but on the inside I feel absolutely nothing. My body feels foreign to me. I haven't recognized myself in the mirror for five years. I feel like I'm someone else, and that at some point I'll wake up and forget all of this like a nightmare. I miss my old self so much—the one who actually lived. Because I'm not living.
When I was six, I had a stepfather who struggled with alcoholism. He'd get drunk and come home wasted, sometimes break down our door, choke my mom and my older brother, while I was in the next room trying to distract my little sister from all that horror. In 2020, my mom finally divorced him. God, I'm shaking again. It always happens when I talk about this—I start trembling. I've never tried alcohol and I never will.
And you'd think I just moved on with my life, but in the fall of 2020, I started having panic attacks. I was so nauseous all the time that I was scared to go outside, and no one understood what was happening to me.
In 2021, I found a group of friends online. We had great conversations, and I even started dating a guy from there. But it wasn't a healthy relationship, even though I loved him and I suffered through it. That's not really the point. In the fall of 2021, we all started fighting a lot, and it went on until the end of the year. Starting in August, I had this underlying anxiety that kept getting worse every day. Then I had a depressive episode—I was in a really bad place, and what made it worse was that I was only 14 and had never dealt with anything like that before. I cut my legs and arms.
On New Year's Eve, December 31, 2021, I decided to leave all my internet friends behind because I realized I couldn't go on like that. Throughout 2022, I acted like I'd beaten it, convincing myself I had, because what I feared most was falling into another depressive episode. The thing was, I'd cry periodically, and there was always this huge cloud hanging over me—this deep ache inside—and a voice in my head that kept repeating, "This isn't how it was supposed to be. This shouldn't have happened. I wasn't supposed to become this person. My life wasn't supposed to turn out this way."
Then came more painful years of overthinking and other struggles—I'd swing between depressive and anxious episodes. I saw a psychiatrist when I was 17, but it didn't help.
I managed to write my important exams, which got me into university, but I did terribly on them—I only got in by some miracle. Because I couldn't study. I tried, but I don't even know how to learn anymore. It was unbearably hard.
Whenever I look back on 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025, I feel this intense anxiety. When I hear certain songs or run into any other triggers, I feel awful. I'm so tired. I'm exhausted from fighting and trying to figure myself out. All these years, I haven't actually felt this life—it's like I'm watching someone else's, or like I'm sitting through a really long movie.
God, I hope someone out there understands me. It's still with me, I can't keep living like this, it's so heavy. I feel broken. I don't feel like myself—I lost myself five years ago. I miss my old self so desperately, I think about her all the time. Sometimes I feel like she left me, and other times I feel like she's still somewhere inside me, and that she hates me for the life I'm living now.
In March this year, I went back to a psychiatrist because I had acute anxiety. The meds took the edge off, but my depressive symptoms got worse. The psychiatrist diagnosed me with "Other mixed depressive disorders" and cyclothymia. I can't study because it's too hard, I can't work out, it's draining to talk to anyone because it takes so much energy. I'm in a terrible place—I think about death constantly, but clearly something is still keeping me here, since I'm still alive. I just don't see the point in living on autopilot, mechanically doing the things I'm supposed to do, while feeling absolutely nothing. Everyone around me is living their best years, while I'm stuck at home, trying—for the sixth year now—to get my life together.
my girl, i’m really sorry. i don’t really know if you could forgive me.
I don't feel anything. Actually, I feel everything, because I'm a really sensitive person, but those feelings don't feel real. I think I'm dealing with derealization and depersonalization, because for the last five years I've just been existing, going through the motions without actually thinking. I mean, I live my life like everyone else, but on the inside I feel absolutely nothing. My body feels foreign to me. I haven't recognized myself in the mirror for five years. I feel like I'm someone else, and that at some point I'll wake up and forget all of this like a nightmare. I miss my old self so much—the one who actually lived. Because I'm not living.
When I was six, I had a stepfather who struggled with alcoholism. He'd get drunk and come home wasted, sometimes break down our door, choke my mom and my older brother, while I was in the next room trying to distract my little sister from all that horror. In 2020, my mom finally divorced him. God, I'm shaking again. It always happens when I talk about this—I start trembling. I've never tried alcohol and I never will.
And you'd think I just moved on with my life, but in the fall of 2020, I started having panic attacks. I was so nauseous all the time that I was scared to go outside, and no one understood what was happening to me.
In 2021, I found a group of friends online. We had great conversations, and I even started dating a guy from there. But it wasn't a healthy relationship, even though I loved him and I suffered through it. That's not really the point. In the fall of 2021, we all started fighting a lot, and it went on until the end of the year. Starting in August, I had this underlying anxiety that kept getting worse every day. Then I had a depressive episode—I was in a really bad place, and what made it worse was that I was only 14 and had never dealt with anything like that before. I cut my legs and arms.
On New Year's Eve, December 31, 2021, I decided to leave all my internet friends behind because I realized I couldn't go on like that. Throughout 2022, I acted like I'd beaten it, convincing myself I had, because what I feared most was falling into another depressive episode. The thing was, I'd cry periodically, and there was always this huge cloud hanging over me—this deep ache inside—and a voice in my head that kept repeating, "This isn't how it was supposed to be. This shouldn't have happened. I wasn't supposed to become this person. My life wasn't supposed to turn out this way."
Then came more painful years of overthinking and other struggles—I'd swing between depressive and anxious episodes. I saw a psychiatrist when I was 17, but it didn't help.
I managed to write my important exams, which got me into university, but I did terribly on them—I only got in by some miracle. Because I couldn't study. I tried, but I don't even know how to learn anymore. It was unbearably hard.
Whenever I look back on 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025, I feel this intense anxiety. When I hear certain songs or run into any other triggers, I feel awful. I'm so tired. I'm exhausted from fighting and trying to figure myself out. All these years, I haven't actually felt this life—it's like I'm watching someone else's, or like I'm sitting through a really long movie.
God, I hope someone out there understands me. It's still with me, I can't keep living like this, it's so heavy. I feel broken. I don't feel like myself—I lost myself five years ago. I miss my old self so desperately, I think about her all the time. Sometimes I feel like she left me, and other times I feel like she's still somewhere inside me, and that she hates me for the life I'm living now.
In March this year, I went back to a psychiatrist because I had acute anxiety. The meds took the edge off, but my depressive symptoms got worse. The psychiatrist diagnosed me with "Other mixed depressive disorders" and cyclothymia. I can't study because it's too hard, I can't work out, it's draining to talk to anyone because it takes so much energy. I'm in a terrible place—I think about death constantly, but clearly something is still keeping me here, since I'm still alive. I just don't see the point in living on autopilot, mechanically doing the things I'm supposed to do, while feeling absolutely nothing. Everyone around me is living their best years, while I'm stuck at home, trying—for the sixth year now—to get my life together.
my girl, i’m really sorry. i don’t really know if you could forgive me.
