I don't know what's wrong with me. I am constantly afraid of failure at work, socially and at school, and I have no friends and I've never had a boyfriend, but I feel like I deserve it and asking for sympathy and help is just attention-seeking and me trying to manipulate people. Will therapy make me better or just make me worse? I want to isolate myself from my family and possible friends because I don't want to hurt them and have them think I am an evil person, but I also desperately want friends and family because I am so afraid of being alone. I don't want to be a disappointment. I have very high standards, but I hate myself. I hate my life and what I look like and who I am. I don't want to permanently hurt myself or kill myself, but I fantasise a lot about how to hurt and kill myself. I'll just be walking down the street and see a bicycle blocking the footpath and imagine me walking on the outside of the pavement around it and getting hit by a car and terribly hurt and then I carry on walking down the street repeating hurtful words in my head with every footstep. I don't want to die, I want to live, I just don't want to be me. I don't know if I'm self-destructive. For 13 years I thought I was dying of cancer and did nothing to actually prevent my own death, just waited for my time. The later it got I just assumed it was too late and cancer would spread to a vital organ soon enough and finding out for sure and accepting it would only make me unhappier. Living in Limbo gave me hope, but I resented my family for not know. I don't know if it was selfish or just cowardly. It took me 13 years to actually do anything about it and see a doctor. I had to get a second opinion I was so sure it was cancer that just hadn't reached a vital organ yet. I traded in cancer for a chronic fibrocystic condition with no known cause or cure with no effective treatment for the pain. I feel like 13 years of secluding myself and waiting to die stunted me socially and mentally and I still feel like a child, not an adult. As a middle child, I often act like ana adult one time and a child the next. I have been told by my mother that I have delusional thoughts about arguments we had when I was a teenager. To this day I resent my mother for her telling me I was the reason she smoked cigarettes and that she liked my twin sister better and that I only pretended to be bad at maths to spite her in an argument whilst she was trying to tutor me to pass the grammar school test. She claims she never said those things, but those hurtful memories were very formative in the creation of my self-worth and my identity and it hurts me a lot for her to tell me that she doesn't remember how much she hurt me. I don't know if that is selfish and childish, or valid. I am afraid that when I explain my problems and feelings I am just complaining and inconveniencing other people, after all, they are my own problems, that I made. It's my fault that I never told anyone that thought I was dying, It's my fault that I never told anyone I was groomed by an older man, and it's not my place to complain about them because I did them to myself. The only thing is I don't know why I didn't ask for help and why I fell like asking for help now make me feel like I'm an attention seeker. I am really in a hole.