The first time I tried to kill myself was back in 2018. I had overdosed on opioid painkillers; 500mg aspirin + 120mg codeine. I think I took 38 pills? Roughly about 3 packs of the stuff. My stomach hurt a lot. It didn't take a while for me to get dizzy and numb. My parents were coming back that day so they picked me up as I was nearly puking and drove me to the ER.

It's 1998. My father started his first business by being a B2B reseller; initially for a hardware store, which focused on MACs. His contractor wanted to expand their inventory beyond just peripherals and PCs. Furniture and other adjacent paperwork materials would be given to my dad, all pre-paid with the store's furniture bought. In turn, they would take a ~30% cut of all income. Or more? I don't remember, it doesn't fucking matter though.

My mother had met my dad a year ago and they were living near where I'd eventually be born. I wasn't really supposed to have come at the time, the pregnancy was sudden and they did not want to terminate. It was amid some serious financial struggles.

My mother tanked my father's business while she was pregnant with me. Literally signing away their entire fucking inventory, all because her friends convinced her through a magic ball session that they were being ripped off... It shouldn't have been possible, but she shouted loud enough at my dad for him to get convinced to pass the business onto her name.

My mother stormed to the contractor's office, and demanded she buy all the furniture(keep in mind, he did own them but they were given to my dad through some legal measures). To which the guy agreed and offered a cheque of 40k euros. I don't exactly know the details but she agreed to it, and they didn't have them. Consequently, they drew out a massive fat fucking loan they haven't paid off till this day.

And then, in 2004, I was born. My father was broke, with a failed business. My mother was deep in debt, and she insisted that my father would live with her and my grandmother. What is also equally horrible, is that my grandma had never really paid her rent and the apartment didn't have running water. Ocassionally, cockroaches would come out from the broken tiles in the bathroom, and no one would do anything for it. They didn't give a shit.

None of them knew how to manage shit. My father would always leave home because my mother would kick him out, he would stay in the weekends. Sometimes going for other mediocre jobs while simultaneously attempting to remedy this whole thing. He was trying to switch from finance to web development. Back then flash and fucking ActionScript were the new cool thing (ugh, he still has some of the books since then). While my dad did try to stay in touch with me, had to go through 3 public prosecutors just to see me. My grandma wouldn't let me see him.

I remember hearing them shout at each other up until I turned ~5. It was okay: I had a PS2 to draw my attention after all. I was sent to a cram school around that age, presumably to start learning English which is the norm in my country. There would be times where I'd have to skip and go to my aunt's place. I have four aunts actually, and only one has been nice (fortunately, I hope she's doing well!). They smoke a lot though and they're dirt poor so I was in a moldy basement whenever I'd be with them.

I had little to eat at times so I'd gobble up everything I could when we were at my relatives and such. Back home, there was no running water so there would be days I couldn't brush my teeth. Sometimes, there would be no electricity either so whatever candles and antique kerosene lamps we had would work as a night light.

I made my first friend in that neighbourhood, unfortunately I'd be bullied in elementary school. It was a delapidated public school and occasionally dealers would be by the bars. Around the same month I believe, a classmate of mine really wanted to piss me off so he tried to twist my adam's apple while we were in class. I somehow broke off and he kicked a basketball ball straight to my face (we had PE but had to stay inside due to the fact it was raining). He broke my nose that day. It's still sort of messed up, I have occasional nose bleeds.

Then we had to move to the countryside, I lost all of my friends. I had to start anew, I didn't know anyone so for the next years I was mostly alone. I was diagnosed around twelve with Hashimoto's, it was pretty bad. I remember losing my eyebrows sometimes cause my hair would be broken and brittle, my eyesight had deteriorated badly too. My family has hereditary myopia. I'm... also pale with dark hair, nothing interesting but I burn quickly. It made me extremely insecure.

I wouldn't talk to others cause I felt lesser, which to some extent I still do today. I would just avoid interactions. I would sit by myself to the point teachers would usually approach me to try and make me feel better. After a certain while, they'd leave too. So I'd just be alone.

Gaming was(and still is) a huge distraction. My family constantly going through shit. They'd accuse each other all the time. About who's fault is it that they lost everything. I'd just be playing Minecraft, I remember I had begged my dad in 2013 for him to purchase the game. I saw my cousin playing b1.7.3 and was immediately hooked.

In middle school and highschool (they were opposite to each other in my town)... everything was a blur. I had no friends, I was bullied horribly still. I made one friend and we're still friends honestly. It all just fucking sucks ever since I was born, and I can't blame anyone but my luck. I failed my uni entrance examinations because I was depressed, I tried again at 19. Nope, failed again.

The next 2 years were spent on jobs I don't remember, on asshole coworkers whose faces I don't remember, on days I can't remember. It all... just passed by. So far, it's all been empty. Not a single girlfriend, not a single new friend. I'm still a fucking kissless virgin. I want to die. I want to reset; start again.