My older brother and I were raised by a single mother. Grew up "mature for my age," which mostly meant I wasn't allowed to be child. I translated for my mom since the age of 6, I helped her pay bills, sign checks, read contracts, etc. Never made trouble because she was constantly working and I didn't want to add more to her stress. Unfortunately, this also meant that I didn't want to burden anyone with my feelings. I developed childhood depressed, started self harming, isolated myself, but kept it all under the guise of being "serious" and "mature."
We were poor af, so a large portion of my childhood consisted of dumpster diving for recyclables with my brother, going to food pantries, and doing any side hustle possible (selling candies and snacks at school which I consistently got in trouble for). I also made a promise to myself that I would get us out of that mess and so I constructed my master plan to dominate the world (wrote this when I was about 11, still carry it in my wallet).
In high school, I was crazy active in every club imaginable and top of my class. People never asked why I wore long sleeves and jackets in the summer (I was cutting) or why my family was never present at award ceremonies (they were busy working). During weekends and in the summer I worked as a farm laborer with my mom, that shit was TOUGH. Then in the evenings I volunteered at a hospital. Then I'd do school work and things for clubs (stupid shit like plan prom). Some girls tried bullying me but honestly I had too much work on my plate to care. High school was mostly just one panic attack after the other, massive stress, and depression.
Then I got into the college of my dreams (an Ivy League) and won multiple scholarships. Unfortunately, the depression was at it's worse my sophomore year. I starved myself for days at a time, until I starved myself for a week and was hospitalized. I kept planning ways to kill myself, but couldn't go through with it because I knew funeral costs would be hard for my family. I eventually broke down and opened up to my mom about my depression. Telling her how I felt lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders and was the first step towards recovery.
My aunt (who was like a second mother to me) died which caused me to reevaluate my life. I decided to start living the way I wanted rather than the way I was expected to. My life satisfaction skyrocketed from there. Now I'm about to graduate in the spring with honors and no debt. I feel like I barely finished the prologue of my life story and about to enter the main story. I'm excited.