I grew up in a religious family and community. Suicide is a taboo topic, nobody talk about it. Even if someone does, it was never taken seriously, and some would even mock those who commit suicide as a deviant because they turned their back on God and instead listened to the devil by choosing an 'easy way to end their misery'.

And now in the times of pandemic and crashing economic growth, there was a rising count of suicide attempts in my country, which was very unusual as it doesn't really happened before. The attempts can still be counted with two hands so far, but a couple of them did succeeded in taking their own life. And even after their death, people condemned them in the comment section (the news was uploaded on the local TV Youtube channel). Some would acknowledge that depression is real, but then they would contradicted their own statement with sarcasms and mockeries. 

It was horrifying, they made jokes out of the dead, I cried as I read them.

And after reading them, I grew even more scared of people. How could I possibly dare to talk about this with anyone? Among those people, there could have been my psychiatrist if I ever decided to meet one.

So I wondered if I did the right thing by sharing my story on this site. I even regretted it as soon as the previous blog was uploaded. 

But then, as I was about to delete back the post, a few people replied to me. I was overwhelmed for a while. All the emotions and feelings were mixed, but most of it is gratefulness.

So I write back to say just that. 

I'm grateful.

To those four people ( sleepingprince, draculasdaughter, willscarlet & Katalex_ ) I don't know if you guys would stumble upon my rant again or not, but I'm still gonna say my thanks.

Thank you for taking your time to read my ramblings and even go as far to replied back to me.

Just know that you did saved a bit of my soul that day.

Now, my body is already ruined because of those years of irregular eating habits, I got scared whenever I was crouching with pain. And I regret, yet again.

After some thinking on the advices, you are right... it was not death that I seek, I just wished that those people who did me wrong would apologize or at least show me that they're sorry for what they've done.

But they didn't, so I punished myself because I thought that it was my fault.

It was so upsetting that I only have to realize it now, that even if I really died from this, they still won't come around to acknowledge anything they did wrong. 

My insides are rotting, both physically and mentally. but I am trying to get better, I truly am. 

I know that it will not be easy. But it's okay, because I also know that it's impossible to be better in just over a year or two after I've been torturing myself for almost two decades.

I will just take it easy, and try to heal myself one step at a time.

I'm keeping myself busy with things I like at the moment. Drawing, writing, reading comic and karaoke. Somehow singing "I will survive" by Gloria Gaynor made me feel so powerful. ^ ^

It's now my favourite on the playlist.

And I've also been going online a lot on other sites, reading stories about other people. Some even have a similar experience like me. I remember this one question from a user, "Give me a name of anyone who didn't have a dysfunctional family." Was it even a question? But I couldn't answer it anyway.

Which kinda come as a surprise to me, it made me realized I'm not the only one who's family is screwed up. Of course It's not something to be happy about, but to mope around all day because I feel the least loved and the most wronged is not helping anyone.

If anything, it would only make me missing out a lot more in life.

I'm rambling again at this point, really saying whatever came on my mind at the moment. hahahaa.

I'll stop here.

Thank you again for your encouragement.

My own people could be really nasty, but it does feels good to know that there's someone like you out there who cares. ^ ^