Life is rough

My tolerance for hard times is, unfortunately, at the end of the line. I've been dealt too many bad hands for too long, and it's finally taken a toll on my health — physically and mentally. I'm lost. Broken.

Helping others through hard work, blood, sweat, and tears has set me on a worse path than if I had never helped at all. Every penny I saved was flushed away into a sea of lies and broken promises — not once, but twice.

How can I recover? I'd say through perseverance and effort, but unfortunately, I have neither. I'm drained.

When I tell others I'm only 23, they say, "Be optimistic," but the last eight years couldn't have been worse. I've dealt with the heartache of death too many times. I've had all my money taken from me by someone I trusted with my life. My first and only love broke my heart without ever giving a reason. I've dealt with an abusive father and a war-torn brother who now has to start his life over because he was forced to.

And don’t even get me started on my mother. She's the one who raised me and my brother our whole lives — she deserves everything. Unfortunately, she's been dealt a tough hand too. We've lived in Section 8 housing our whole lives, and it's really starting to wear us down. I want to move out, but she would have to stay — it's all she can afford.

I can’t get two jobs because rent is based on income, so I’d end up taking home less money with more work. I keep getting put into situations I don’t want to be in — because I’m forced. They tell me I’m not, but how could I not be? If I found a way out and left everyone behind, the guilt of getting away would kill me. It’s already killing me, and I haven’t even left yet.

I just want to run away. Start over. But that’s not possible.

In the end, I just want opportunity. I need someone to pull me from the mud. Please... I need help.