Hello, I am a 22 year old girl, thanks for taking the time to read. I have been diagnosed with depression and anxiety since I was 12, at 15 I developed trichotillomania and at 20 it increased too much. My family reproached me when they found out I had depression, they played the victims and I only pretended to be cured until I was 18 when I tried to kill them. I have been to 5 different psychologists, whenever I got to the psychiatric part my father feigned dementia and played the victim saying that what I have is for wasting time and "doing nothing". I self-harmed a lot in the past, the day my father found out he made it clear how ashamed he felt for me, however at least I went to therapy. But, nothing helped, nothing ever got better. And the only time I felt loved was by a boy I met online, we had a relationship for 3 years when I was 16 until I turned 19, then I found out that he catfished me and he was actually much younger than me, on top of that he was cheating on me with another girl, that tore me apart, I placed all my dreams and hopes in our future, something that never existed from the beginning. I keep going to therapy, I kept trying everything for myself and I have never achieved anything, I forced myself to have dreams because everyone had them, everyone knows where to go and what to do, I just know that no matter how many dreams I will never be enough for nothing and for no one. Sometimes I dream that someone loves me, sometimes I dream that I can be alone, sometimes I dream that my torture is over. And it is that for me living does not make any sense, there is nothing that compensates for existing, nothing is worth it for all the horrible things I feel. And the worst? I have no cure, nothing has a cure, now I've been diagnosed with AD, another disease with no cure and it's fucked up. Because I don't see a case for anything and living is a constant obligation, which I am obliged to follow when I didn't even ask for it. At least I would like to share with someone how I feel, but I know that nobody cares enough to want to read me. I would like someone to love me as I come to love, but I know that I no longer have the capacity to love as I did. I have lost too much in my life path, I have lost trust in others, I have lost the power to dream of even a decent future. No one is going to understand me, and no one is going to live it and I am going to continue swallowing my daily days where I feel that I am better, for later at night, my body and mind attack me until they want to make me vomit, choke on my cough, laughter and tears, of an indescribable pain but that I know.