I’m M22, and I’m telling you my story because I’m extremely, extremely depressed.
There was a girl I really liked. I told my family that I wanted them to talk to her family. But there was another issue: my cousin also liked her, and his mother fought for her and managed to get her for her son. My parents were scared that their family might get angry with us, so the girl slipped away from me.
Secondly, I’m an ACCA student, and I failed my paper.
Thirdly, I have around 27 marks/scars on my stomach, and it has been a month. I’m really scared about it, but I don’t tell my family because we’re having some financial problems. We do have some money, but if I ask them to take me to a doctor, it will become another expense, and I feel like I won’t be able to ask them for money again in the future. I’m a guy, so I feel like I should save money in case something important comes up.
I’m also alone at home. I don’t have any friends here, and I recently went through a breakup that I still haven’t been able to move on from. I have always wanted to buy a bike, but even that wish isn’t coming true.

My childhood story

You guys don’t know that when I was preparing for school, I was sent to a hostel for two years. I think I was around 6 or 7 years old at the time. After two year leaving the hostel, I lived with my grandparents After living with my grandparents, I became a little mentally disturbed because I was scolded almost every day and was made to do a lot of work. But I want to make one thing clear: my grandparents are good people, I love them, and I’m genuinely grateful that I got the chance to take care of them. I have no hatred towards them at all. I just wish I had received a little more love and affection too. I’m human as well. I also needed someone to understand me, comfort me, hug me, and make me feel loved.
Then I got tired of being at home and moved to Islamabad because I couldn’t find peace there.
I’ve never really felt loved by anyone. I’ve been alone since childhood. My parents used to live abroad, and even now, I talk to my father out of fear and mostly just say “yes” respectfully. Whenever I got sick, there was no one there for me. I used to suffer alone and cry, wishing my mother was there.
I have four sisters and one brother, and they’re all very close to my mother, but I’m not. I’m the third child, and everyone depends on me.
You guys don’t understand how broken I feel. I can’t smoke, I can’t do drugs, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore. I’m in a lot of pain, both physically and emotionally. I feel completely broken. I don’t know what to do.