I've been depressed and anxious all my life- I know this, because even when *I* didn't realize it, the people around me supported me and sought help for me. I blew them off, because as stated, I never realized how bad I was. I spent pretty much all my teen years in a dissociative fog, living like my body didn't exist and there was no future for me outside of my creative endeavors.

Cut to now- I'm 30, and I've been completely unable to accomplish anything with my life. I have no money, no degrees of any kind (not even a GED, it's a long story), I'm stranded outside of my home country without much documentation, and I've been spiraling mentally the past 5 years with no sign of recovery. I have a supportive family(who is unfortunately all very far away), a loving husband, good friends who want to help me, and a relatively healthy body that I could probably forge into something strong and capable if I had the energy.

Of course, I don't have the energy, and I never have. The only reason I'm no longer obese has been the lack of regular meals the past few years. And as much as I want help for my mental state, it always seems out of my reach. I have no access to actual healthcare, and my husband has PTSD and his own mental health problems he is working on with (thankfully) therapy. However, he needs my constant attention and help just to keep himself going. He won't eat meals if I don't remind him, he won't bathe without help, he can't support himself. I have to be able to buck up and carry the weight here, no matter the cost.

The problem is the only self-help resources I've ever been able to find rely on me dealing with my childhood trauma/abuse... and I have none. I had a happy childhood, I have great parents, I was always very self aware and they never lied to me or betrayed my trust. Things weren't perfect, but there is no central thing for me to go back and pinpoint, no event or person. I was bullied, but I always let it roll off me. I had massive confidence when I was younger, and at some point it just all evaporated through my fingers. I always had huge faith and put effort into my art and creative ideas, but I've never been able to develop actual skills or practice- my focus has never been good enough.

Now that I'm 30 I can't help feeling hopeless. I'm too old to start as fresh as I have to, but I'm too young to 'give up'. I fight suicidal thoughts every day, but I know I will never kill myself because of how much I care for my family and how much I fear being dead.  I just can't get past stage one of this- I can't stop hating myself, for absolutely everything. This is the first time I've reached out to anyone because I feel guilty taking up space- I mean obviously, I have no trauma and most of the people here are half my age and have a lot more room to grow and recover. 

I don't want to let the people I care about down. Even if I could just force myself to become productive, keep the house clean and forge some sort of career with all this art I wasted my life doing, I wouldn't care too much about being happy. I think I *would* be happy if I could do those things. At least I'd hate myself less. I'm worried my only option will ever be medication, and that I will never see a doctor again in my lifetime without already having picked up the pieces so it's completely out of my reach.