I feel incredibly nervous writing this, I'm afraid that someone will either be unsympathetic towards me or try to tell me that their life story is far worse than mine. I can't take living like this anymore, where the media becomes this twisted creature that completely destroys our perception of what it feels like to be empty and we are given the expectation that we should automatically recover from something, but that day of solace and recovery never came for me. I remember walking home from school each and every day, being bullied, beaten up and crying, while my mother giving me encouragement to keep moving and going forward. I started having suicidal thoughts when I was 9 and I felt this immense anxiety when talking to other people, like everything was pointless, no matter what I did. I grew up as an only child, without very many friends at all. The only two people I considered fairly close to me was my best friend, who I don't even speak to anymore and my cousin, who lives very far away from me. It still hurts to have to be forced to remember all of the things that have happened to me, trying to make friends as time passed, only to have one's life taken from being eaten away after an amoebic infection. I thought that things would look up for me after I got into a relationship with someone, but that didn't even improve my emotional state one bit. I only remembered that we broke up and what horrible things were said to me. I don't quite remember it very well, but it reminded me of when my mother would be very nice and encouraging, but then switch to intense anger and rage at me, whenever she was abused by my father. My father loved me very much, but he saw my mother only as an object, his trophy that served only to bring me into the world. This thought only gave my mother mixed emotions and this created her feelings of love/hate towards me. Even as time passes, I still remember how damaged I felt back then and how damaged I feel now. I don't know whether it's my past that's making me feel like this, or my clinical depression, but I only feel numb and deadened on the inside, without a single thought in my head. Thus, I continue to live, I cannot commit suicide, or else that would bring even more sadness into the world and I don't want anyone else to feel the way that I did. But I cannot stand the very thought of living like this either, I don't want to be forced to be happy or angry or sad, I only want to be free.