I’ve lurked on this forum for a long time. I never posted before because why would anyone care? I don’t have friends. I don’t have family. There is literally not a single person on this planet I can talk to, so I’m writing this here. I know it’s pathetic. Maybe someone will read it. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if you’re reading this and having a good day. I really don’t mean to ruin it with my depressing b.s. I feel guilty just typing this out, dumping my problems on strangers. I just don't know what else to do. I should probably thank this forum, actually. Reading the posts and comments, even just lurking, has kept me from losing it completely. Doesn’t fix anything, but it’s the only thing that’s made me feel less alone. I’m a 17-year-old guy from a small, dead-end town in Bulgaria. I’ve been homeless for a year now. I’m almost completely out of money. I basically just exist on cheap bread and water. I used to be sort of strong, but now I’ve lost so much weight I scare myself when I catch a reflection in a shop window. I’m just bones. My ribs stick out, my hands shake all the time. I feel dizzy and weak all the time. Just standing up too fast makes me black out. Life has a funny way of working out, right? Never thought this is how it would turn out. I used to have dreams. Stupid kid dreams. Wanted to be a mechanic, fix cars, have my own place. Short version of a stupid life story: My dad died of cancer when I was really little. He was okay. My mother... she didn’t drink or do drugs. She was just evil sober. She had a habit of throwing things at my head if I breathed wrong—heavy glass ashtrays, shoes, sometimes knives. One time she deliberately poured boiling kettle water on my arm because I didn't clean the stove right. Gave me third-degree burns. The scar is nasty. She told me every day that I was a waste of space and I should just die to save her money. So I ran away a year ago, but now I'm struggling without enough food, and my body can't take it anymore. The worst part isn't even the hunger. It's the hiding. I don't sleep on park benches right out in the open. I’m too ashamed. I find hidden corners behind apartment blocks or crawlspaces in abandoned construction sites—places where no one has to look at me. I spend half my day worrying that I smell bad, trying to wash my hair in public toilets just so I can look "normal" enough that people don't call the cops on me. It is so exhausting pretending to be a human being every day. I’ve been wanting to die for so long it feels normal now. Even when I sleep, I don't escape it. I don't dream about having a bed or food. Every night I dream about jumping off the overpass near the station. I dream about the train hitting me. Even my own sleep wants me dead. Again, I really am sorry for writing this here. I know it’s selfish and depressing and nobody wants to read this. I just had to say it out loud one time because I have nobody else. Sorry for wasting your time.
Interesting and well written, used AI? So if you are so poor and down and out, how is it that you have access to a phone or device such as a pc? Doesn't really add up if I'm to be honest.