The first time I felt this way, I was 14. Empty, lonely. The best description I've read so far was “it's the emotional equivalent of watching paint dry“. Because that's what it feels like. I started hurting myself when I was 15 because I wanted to feel differently. I started a therapy when I was 16 and finally told my mum about the self harming. When I was 20, my dad ended his life by committing suicide. Writing this still hurts so much because I realise that it's already 1,5 years ago. It put me into a hole again. But you know what? I will fight. I will kill those demons inside of me someday or at least shut them down. I know that my dad would be so proud of me. I can imagine how he felt when he made his decision. I know that he didn't saw the good things in life anymore. But there are good things. And I know it. And I will fight for this. Always.