To start, I am not suicidal or having thoughts of suicide, more having constant thoughts of “I hate it here! What is there to be happy about?”.

I noticed, ever since I was around 8, I always had this sense of… sadness within me. Despite what my parents thought, I always felt sad on the inside, and I can never remember a single time when I felt legitimately happy, rather than being forced by my parents and two brothers to act happy just to fit in with social cues.

Again, ever since I was 8, up to today, at 24, I still don’t know what it feels like to be happy. And any of the supposed positives in life are completely invisible to me, and any of the negatives are as visible as a bright light at night. I also often felt more “numb” on the inside than sad, although the former isn’t a huge improvement.

Most days, I struggle to get out of bed and wake up on time, and fall asleep on time.

I could never relate to any of my peers, who seemed to be able to express happiness that I always felt incapable of feeling. I also always had a sense of “Why are they happy?”. Thus, I grew up with no friends, and never had friends until last year. Even then, they are online friends, and are often too busy to talk.

As a final clue, I have always had seasonal depression… On all 4 seasons of the year. I told my mom about this last year, over the phone… And she laughed in my face over the phone, saying that “It was funny I claimed something so ridiculous”. Ever since, the main reason I take care of myself at all is out of spite for my mom always doubting the existence of depression.