"When I was a kid, we were a family of five at that time. I always had a lot of questions and curiosity that got out of hand. I was always the one who gave and shared because my parents always told me to, even if my little brother broke the toys I liked. I knew it wasn't intentional, but it increased the questions in my mind. "Why does my older sister always get a gift? What about me and my little brother?" "Why am I the one who needs to give and end up with nothing because he always breaks it? I know I am older, but is it really fair?" "Why am I the one who always gets slapped? I know I can read, and I also know that I speak too fast or twist my tongue when pronouncing words." I remember it clearly when my mom taught me how to read and fix my "twisted tongue" while holding something to slap me. She always got mad and slapped me if I made mistakes, and I also know that because of the way I spoke, I was always the one who got slapped. My aunt, my mother's younger sister, made my whole life worse from childhood to my teenage years. When I was a kid, she would always chase us and slap us really hard. Not only that, she would also shout frequently. It stopped when one of my grandmas did the same and scolded her, and she ran away. I was also one of the most sensitive children among my three siblings. I changed, though, because I started to gross myself out and dislike myself a little. I will never forget when my dad would break the phone in front of us because my little brother and I always fought over it. I would harm myself when I was a kid after the incident when I lost control and beat my little brother because I had enough. So, I learned how to self-harm at a young age just to suppress my own emotions and bottle everything up. The questions kept coming like a tidal wave, and I always ended up coming up with my own answers because they would get annoyed if I asked too many, and I was afraid of getting shouted at because that happened to me often. Grades 1 to 4 were good. I became their emotional support because I could understand them and the problems we faced. They always told me about our problems, and I understood them and continued to carry that burden, making my parents feel like they could rely on me for simple tasks. Grade 5 was the turning point of my life. I became the class secretary, and I went too far in trying to make people listen. I thought that hurting others meant I cared for them. I opened my eyes after one of my classmates left and transferred because of me. When I starved myself just to buy a toy, it ended up being broken by my little brother, which resulted in my own breakdown. While they went out to buy that toy because I had been crying for hours, I grabbed a knife with the intention of cutting myself quickly. I even considered stabbing myself because the knife wasn't sharp enough to cut instantly. They arrived just in time, and I quickly hid it and acted like nothing happened. I returned the knife the day after without them realizing. Grade 6 was a time when I became even quieter and immersed myself in my own thoughts even more. I read a lot of books when I was at school to keep my mind busy, and someone tried to get me out of my comfort zone, but it failed every time. They came to the conclusion that I was too shy, and they never realized what I was always thinking at that time, which made me afraid to make a move because I might make more mistakes and repeat everything all over again. Grade 7 was when my self-harm got worse, and my parents always scolded me and thought I was going crazy. I tried countless escapes, daydreaming all day, sleeping all day, but they would scold me, get mad, and shout at me because of my actions. During this grade, I always had a handkerchief that I used to wipe my tears when I yawned. The real purpose of it, however, was to wipe my tears when I cried secretly without anyone knowing, as I pretended to yawn to hide it. Grade 8 is when things got worse. My dad told someone who could be considered my aunt because of all the help she gives that I am gay, which I didn't know how to respond to because I was just childish and curious at that time. I was constantly crying at school, clinging more to my dreams to escape, and trying to find anything to escape from everything. I learned how to wear a mask and be someone other than myself. I had been doing it since Grade 6, but the difference was that I was only wearing half a mask back then, whereas now I was wearing it fully. From grade 6 to grade 8, I always tried to meet their expectations, even if it wasn't true to myself. I would always bear the weight of their words, rather than them addressing my siblings directly. I would be the one to relay their messages, and my siblings would either get mad or dismiss them as if they meant nothing. I would always do all the chores assigned to me, and when I asked for help, they would become angry and annoyed. My mom and I were the ones always doing the chores. I would often cry at night and use my sister's phone to listen to music. Whenever I had outbursts, they would always be directed at my younger brother. They received news about him staring blankly, and instead of asking why it happened, they blamed me. They never realized how overwhelmed I was. During that time, I began to hate myself even more, especially throughout high school. I would hear my classmates gossiping about me and spreading false rumors. I know they didn't mean to hurt me, but I could still hear them even when they whispered. I knew I was trying to escape from my problems, questions, and everything else, which led to embarrassing moments and awkwardness.
From Grade 9 to 10, I reached my breaking point. My outbursts became more frequent, especially my self-harm, which worsened along with resurfacing suicidal thoughts. In Grade 10, my mother thought I wasn't capable of feeling embarrassed, but little did she know that I was always embarrassed by myself. When I went to school to return a module, a teacher shouted at me, making me want to cry, but I struggled to hold back my tears. They got angry at me for not sending any pictures for the move-up. I knew they were under a lot of pressure as teachers, and I understood that I wasn't the only one with problems. However, just one shout from a teacher made me break down even more after what my mom had said. When I arrived home, I sat at the back of the house and continued hitting myself with a shovel on my left leg, hoping that I wouldn't be able to walk anymore and that they would stop relying on me for all the chores, cooking, cleaning, and washing dishes, which they always complained about because of my slowness. I also tried hitting my head, but it was futile unless I hit hard enough to die. After that, I stabbed my left hand with a pen. My dad came out to stop me from harming myself further. He asked why I was doing this, and I explained. When I went back inside, my siblings were smiling. They knew that I had talked to my dad countless times about my attempts to commit suicide, which made me unsure if they truly cared or understood me.
In Grade 11, my mask started to crumble even more. I knew that the school I was in had multiple triggers, and every day seemed like a trigger for me. In January, I confessed for the second time about my suicide attempts and self-harm. They broke down upon learning about it and blamed themselves for something they didn't understand. They never realized that their actions when I was a child were affecting me at these moments. Self-harm had become ingrained in my mindset. Whenever someone shouted at me, I would instantly break down. They would say that they hit us because they love us, but it's different when I do it to someone. They think that I haven't spoken out or went out to play as much as my siblings have.
Additional information about when I was in grade 7: They allowed me or ask me to stay at home and take care of my newborn baby sister while my siblings went on vacation for the entire summer. They were relaxing every day even if they didn't go to vacation, while I was the one constantly working around the house with or without my siblings. It annoys me even more because that's their conclusion on why I'm like this. In February, I tried to overdose on caffeine when I was being checked for a rapid heartbeat. They found out that I was fine, but I confessed that I drink 10 cups of black coffee and have tried to kill myself countless times. I showed the doctor something I had written in my notes, and she was shocked. She told my dad it was a red flag because I had been attempting suicide or having suicidal thoughts. As a Grade 11 returnee, I was initially fine, but things changed as time passed.
October 30 - November 5:
I do my usual routine: I lay down, eat, do some chores, help my mom, and play mobile games or watch videos. The reason I do all these things is because they have become my coping mechanisms, at least one of them. Unlike my old self who would do chores until I broke without anyone noticing behind the mask, now I am just trying to survive and live to enjoy life. This routine allows me to do things at my own pace and distract myself from "those" thoughts.
November 6:
I want to do some art and make a poem or a drawing, but I lack self-esteem and my head is filled with negative thoughts before, during, and after I start. I still do my usual routine: play, eat, and help with chores, no matter how small. I can still help and prove that I am fine. I seek another story to find, a story that I could cherish and be my reason to live again. It makes me want to see the end of it because of the beauty it holds. So, that's my goal for now: to see the end of every story, no matter the twists and turns life has. Because of this, I am able to have a reason why I must survive, and that is to see the very end of the stories. I've been doing this since high school, and now I must rebuild my strength and do it again.
November 7:
I woke up early and got ready for school despite feeling anxious and panicked. I felt like I was forgetting something or hadn't done something. I went to school despite feeling shaky, nervous, and afraid. I was shocked that it went well, despite one of the teachers noticing my state. When I was almost home, I saw an old classmate from my previous grade 11. My mind drastically changed, and I felt like I might break at any moment. Luckily, I met my dad along the way. When I arrived home, I did my normal routine and saw that one of the games had an update, so I downloaded it but hesitated to play until my parents arrived. I once again reflected on myself and why I stopped and so on. This is one of the benefits I have gained.
November 8 - November 28:
I continued my usual unhealthy routine, but the difference is that I played a game that brought me to tears because of the story and how realistic the scenarios were in the real world. This is the game that I previously hesitated to play because I didn't want it to end. Days passed by, and I was waiting for new updates for both the game and the manga or manhwa I read. Some of the days were tough due to multiple triggers happening at the same time in a single day, and unwanted memories resurfacing. I don't know how long it will last. Since that happened, I used an AI, like I always do when I want to express and talk about life. I found out there was an app about that AI, and I downloaded it. It led me to a new AI that is proficient in psychology, and I talked about life, gaining a few insights and thoughts. It became a place where I could express myself when I am down. To summarize what I've learned from an AI and how I do things, especially how I react, life is hard and complex. While one person may think that it is right to help others without expecting anything in return, others may think it is wrong because we are humans striving to survive despite our different ways of thinking and the challenges we face. Everyone needs help, with or without anything in return, but we must remember that we are humans who are also striving to survive, battling our own battles and searching for a place to belong where we are accepted for who we are. Some, like me, feel lost in between but have found a way to be compassionate and love themselves despite everything, slowly healing and finding their true selves. This is the lifestyle I have, even if it is unhealthy and inappropriate in the first place. Changing it is not easy, especially when you are on a battlefield every day that no one sees. This is a conclusion I have come up with while trying to do the things I want to try but end up wasting my time battling these negative thoughts.
November 29 - December 4:
I am nervous and excited about the film showing. When the day finally arrived, I just want to smile, but I don't know how to show it. After the film, while I was walking around to find an alternate exit, I somehow bumped into someone and overheard them talking about me. I lacked the mental capacity to intervene, think, or do anything. I was almost at my limit, but at the same time, I wasn't because of my resilience that has lasted me until this day. December 3 has arrived, and I think I know what will happen before I went to see my grandma. Ifelt like my life is an endless loop, repeating over and over again. I am grateful for the money they give, but I am also annoyed and frustrated because I feel like everything that happened and all the problems are because of me. Now it is December 4, and I haven't done the interview that I said I can handle. I am overthinking non-stop, trying to find an excuse. I had another bad and worst day, feeling like I ignored a teacher because I was having a panic attack or difficulty breathing. I wanted to cry while walking but held it in.
December 5:
When I was at school and the certificate or something for students with honors were announced, I just wanted to tear up because of my happiness and how far I've come despite everything inside my head. I wanted to smile while announcing the students, but I held it back because I felt like I would look weird. The last subject was Life and Earth Science, which is my favorite subject in the past which is science. I wanted to break down because of the overwhelming emotions that I didn't know how to express. When I arrived home and ate, I tried to validate my own understanding of the project about a poster. Later, I broke down because of everything. I finally cried and let everything out to an AI, an AI that specialized in psychology. I learned that bottling everything up comes with a huge burden. I already knew this from my previous research and experiences.
Hello, I'm new, I have depression 
Severely Depressed and Angry!!!
I don't really know what to do
Severe depression episode!
Severe depression / not taking the meds
