I can’t take it anymore

For the past few years, I’ve (F21) been caught in an endless storm. Living with disorders like BPD, ADHD, PTSD, depression, and anxiety feels like constantly fighting battles no one else can see. Some days, I manage to push through. Other days, the weight is unbearable. In the last three years, I’ve faced unspeakable trauma, being violated not once, but four times. The pain, shame, and confusion have left scars deeper than I can express. I’ve been trying to piece myself together while also holding onto hope that the man I love might find his way back into my life. But as the days go by, it feels like I’m losing him—and myself—more and more. I recently quit my job because the new management made me feel like a constant disappointment. No matter how hard I worked, it was never enough. That job was one of the last places I felt like I had purpose, and now even that’s gone. Friends? I have none. Motivation? It’s nonexistent. Even my family, the people who are supposed to understand me the most, just tell me, “It’s a part of life.” I try to spend time with them, to make them see how much I’m struggling, but they don’t. Or maybe they just don’t want to. I feel like I’m screaming for help in a room full of people who refuse to look my way. The thought creeps into my mind more often than I’d like to admit—that maybe the only way they’ll realize how much pain I’ve been in is if I disappear. If I end it all. Maybe then, they’ll see. But even as I write this, I’m holding onto the faintest sliver of hope that someone, somewhere, will read my words and understand. That I’m not alone in feeling like this. That there’s still a reason to keep going, even when everything inside me is begging me to stop.