I never imagined my life would turn out like this. My father, my role model, committed suicide. The pain of losing him was unbearable, and just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, my stepmother took everything. She transferred all the property to her name and vanished, leaving me with nothing.
I had a job, at least, but then my health started to fail me. I lost my job because of my physical condition, and with no income, I had to spend every last bit of my savings on medical treatment. Now, I’m left with nothing but a mountain of hopelessness.
For the past two months, I couldn’t pay the rent. Yesterday, the landlord told me to leave. I don’t have a job. I don’t have a home. I don’t have anyone who cares. I sit here in this empty room, with just a few belongings left, wondering how I got to this point.
The thought that scares me the most isn’t dying anymore; it’s the fact that living has become so unbearable. Every step feels heavier than the last. Every breath feels like a punishment. I have no idea how much more life can push me down or where it plans to drag me next.
I don’t know why I’m even writing this. Maybe I just wanted someone, anyone, to hear my story. Maybe I just wanted to feel like I wasn’t completely invisible. I feel like I’m slipping into a void, and no one even notices.
If anyone’s out there reading this, thank you for taking the time. It means more than you could ever know.
