I was tired.
I couldn't go on anymore.
I had dark thoughts.
Like I wanted to hurt myself.
I knew…
I had to do something.
I decided to ask for help.
I was convinced that was the right thing to do.
First, I thought about a friend.
To open up to him.
But immediately, the questions came.
What if he judges me?
What if he doesn't understand?
What if he tells others?
No…
I can't handle that.
Still…
I tried.
I started opening up slowly.
Just a little.
But he…
it felt like he wasn't even listening.
"It's nothing… you should see the problems I have…"
And then he started talking about himself.
Like he was just waiting
for me to stop…
so he could talk.
That's when I realized…
I'm alone in this.
I decided:
I'll seek professional help.
I went.
I reached out.
I made an appointment.
But when the day came…
Shame.
How am I supposed to tell him everything?
He won't understand.
He'll judge me.
I'm a disgrace.
And now I'm supposed to say all of that…
to a stranger?
I can't.
I gave up.
"I'll fix it myself."
I took a book.
To study.
To prepare for exams.
But…
I couldn't.
The whole day…
one definition.
Nothing would stay in my head.
Like someone was whispering to me:
"You're too late."
"You can't do this."
"You've embarrassed your family."
"Aren't you ashamed to stand in front of a professor?"
"You've been studying for 10 years…"
That voice…
was destroying me.
It wouldn't stop.
I ran out of the study room.
Anxiety hit me.
"You sell your own body…
and now you're going to pretend you're a student?"
"Study? Pass exams?"
People say:
you should love yourself.
But how?
How can I love myself…
when I'm the worst version of myself?
The truth is…
I hate myself.
They say you should love yourself…
but no one tells you what to do
when you hate the person you've become.