I’ve always felt different. I’ve been diagnosed with several conditions over the years, earliest at 15. Am an adult now, thinking I would have surpassed my moral crisis by now. My family has done what they can over the years, but I cannot let them help me anymore. I do things myself only asking for help when absolutely necessary. I feel like I should have been cured by now. The other day my mom actually asked me if she caused my mental illness - I felt so hurt, so sad, tried to respond the most textbook way I could which was no, it’s not in her control. Treatment is not fun in the slightest, the abuse I’ve endured (obviously trying to hide it from my family best I can) makes wanting to trust people again a daunting task. On top of it all, my dad killed himself a few years ago while him and my mom were separating. 

My existence has felt like a joke and accepting myself feels pretty much impossible most days - almost selfish at this point. But if I don’t have something to live for that genuinely makes me happy, I’m not gonna want to stick around much longer.