I’ve been depressed for pretty much years now and I hate myself. It feels like nothing can make me happy. I know how lucky I am since I live in a family that isn’t poor and whatever, I know that won’t be enough to “cure” my depression and I don’t feel selfish at least for feeling like that. When my mom first found out about my depression, she treated me like complete shit but now my parents always walk on eggshells around me and give me things to try make me happy. I got a new phone for my birthday and when I first saw it, I felt dread. I didn’t feel happy. During the summer, me and my family went to our home country for a few weeks and I had a depressive episode. My mom was like “you know I love you what can I do to make you stop being like this I sent you here so you could stop being like this” and I wanted to tell her that I don’t care that she loves me and nothing that she does can help “cure” me or whatever because it’s true. I used to be religious but I lost my faith. I thought if the love of my family couldn’t make me happy then maybe I just need more materialistic things. Now that I’m able to get those things I don’t think that they will make me happy either. I don’t know what will make me happy. I don’t want anything. My parents just enable me now and I don’t know what to do. I know that continuing on like this will only make me kill myself in the end. I can’t imagine a future for myself. I tried to get back into reading as it used to be one of my favourite hobbies. I tried to be optimistic about reading the book but in the end all I could think about was how badly I just want to shoot myself in the head. It’s not even like my life is super bad or anything. I’m just not cut out for living. I don’t think I can even fall in love, love anyone or have anyone love me romantically. Must be because of how my mom taught me that nobody will ever love me for who I actually am. I don’t really care anyways so it doesn’t really matter. I feel guilty for being unable to be happy but I know I can’t really control that. I’ve done and said a lot of bad things to my parents just as they have done and said a lot of bad things to me too. I just don’t see the point of continuing this anymore. I’m not special. I don’t have any worth so I don’t see the point of continuing this wasteful routine that doesn’t even help anything. I’m better off dead. I remember when I attempted once, my mom cared more about the “stigma” of having a child commit suicide and she said she would rather have me die by covid instead. I’m also a pretty shitty person. When I had another attempt, I smiled when my mom said that I was possibly getting sent to a care home if I attempt again, just to spite her. I really wouldn’t care if my family got depressed from me committing suicide, half of them already are anyways. I’d be dead anyways. It’s also just the fact that I’ve never cared about how my family would feel once I died. I know I’m young and have my whole life ahead of me and stuff but it feels like I’m definitely going to be killing myself in the future no matter what me or anyone else does. I wish there was a way for them to finally stop giving a fuck when they know they’ve already given up on me. I’ve literally heard them say that they apparently know there’s no cure for this type of stuff. I’ve already given up on myself because of them. All they’re doing now is only letting me continue being a piece of shit. What’s the point of me living then?