I never went through any big traumatic event. I never saw anybody die, got beaten by my parents, or had a tough life out on the streets. Worst that ever happened to me was that I got bullied in middle school. But it's because my life was never so shitty that I never really felt like I had a right to complain about anything that happened to me. If anything, it just makes me feel worse, that I supposedly have things so easy and don't deserve to feel the way I do.

I feel like everyone's gone and grown up without me, and while I've been trying to hide it, I haven't actually matured since I first thought of killing myself at age 13. It's like I'm a fish stuck in a tiny bowl with nowhere else to go. Even if I hate my current situation, even if I desperately want to change myself and my environment, I can't. I don't know how to function without my parents, no matter how independent I want to be. I don't know all the procedures and norms that everyone takes for granted and would rather just shut up and hide. I've never been that close to anyone before, even as friends. As much as I'd like to have a romantic relationship, I know that nobody would want me the way I am now and it wouldn't be nearly as great as whatever idealized fantasies I have in my head anyways. I have no idea what I want to do with my life because nothing I'm good at or enjoy doing is anything that actually matters. Everything I worry about feels so childish and trivial in comparison to what other people are dealing with.

Lately, I've been writing stories. They probably suck and I'll look back on them in a few years and just cringe. All of the protagonists struggle with many of the same things as me, no matter how different they may be in other aspects. But they also have what I call an "escape route", some way of fishing them out of the spiral of depression and allowing them to improve themselves. Maybe they're missing one of my flaws despite suffering from all the others. Maybe they have a friend or family member that they can confide in while I never had anyone I could trust like that. Maybe they discover there's something that they're good at, something they enjoy, a boost of confidence that I never got. Maybe some fantastic call to adventure pushes them to meet and become close to somebody that they would have never spoken to otherwise. Maybe they're just reasonably attractive. Meanwhile, all I can do is keep fantasizing and write it all down while knowing that I will never have such a convenient way out.