This is going to be a big one. It’s okay if you don’t want to read it.
I’m a 21-year-old male with a degree in BMS (Human Resources).
I’ve seen so many voices being heard on this platform, and I’m just a tiny bit hopeful that mine will be one of them today.

This is my first time speaking out loud about my problems — my first time asking anyone for help.
At this point in my life, I feel hopeless, helpless, shattered into a thousand pieces — and my heart into a million.

From the early days of my life, a lot has happened around me — mostly negative, mostly depressing.
Since UKG or 1st–2nd standard, I was sexually harassed by someone within my own house.
I was exposed to such things so early that I know it affected me deeply, even to this day.

Then, from 5th standard onwards, I faced severe bullying in school — and not the normal kind.
These were older boys involved with local gangs, the kind of people known for violence, sometimes even assaulting minors. They forced their decisions on me — beating me up, making me fight other classmates, forcing me to smoke cigarettes and vapes, running their errands.

I love my family — my brother, sister, mom, and dad — despite whatever disagreements I may have with them.
Even when I was 6 or 7, I used to cry if I saw them sick or sad. I’m saying this because those bullies constantly threatened me — saying if I ever told anyone at home, they would harm my brother or even my father. They claimed they had political contacts with local authorities, and I believed them.

So, it never even crossed my mind to tell anyone.
I wasn’t the only one bullied; others in my class were harassed too — some had their bicycles stolen, some were beaten up.
I used to help them escape because they lived nearby — but since I stayed 3 km away, I had no way out. So I used to help them run, and then I would pay for it.

That’s how I became silent — hiding everything inside my head, pretending to be fine at home while suffering in silence at school.

Fast-forward to more recent years — about 3.5 years ago, I suddenly became severely sick.
Every joint in my body started paining. I couldn’t place my feet on the floor; I couldn’t walk or run like before.
I started having anxiety and suffocation.

And since I had trained myself not to talk about my problems, I hid everything for two months — until it got much worse.
When I finally told my parents, they dismissed it, thinking it was nothing — all in my head.
Especially my father, who said things like:

Hearing this broke me completely.
That’s the image he had of me — weak, unreliable — and I had no idea why.

It took seven months for them to finally ask if I wanted to go to a doctor.
When I said, “Whatever you think is fine,” their response was,

Again, I was disheartened.
I didn’t say anything, but in my mind, I thought:

We eventually went to a physician, who dismissed it as stress — again proving my father’s point that it was a mental issue.
But I knew that wasn’t true. I’ve faced stress all my life, but I’ve never let it destroy me.

After two months, the physician referred me to a psychiatrist — again proving my father right, at least in his eyes.

During this time, my health got even worse.
I couldn’t even move my hands to write or hold a glass.
I started getting involuntary jerking movements throughout my body and insomnia at night.

After one year, nothing had improved.
I didn’t want my parents to feel financially burdened, so I stopped visiting doctors.
But my condition kept worsening.

Two years later, when I was at my lowest point, my family finally asked my brother-in-law (a doctor) to get specialists to examine me.
I was referred to a rheumatologist — a good one in Punjab — who diagnosed me with:

• Severe flat feet,
• Central Sensitization,
• Fibromyalgia, and
• Anxiety Disorder.

That was the first time my family truly believed that my health problems were real.

But even today, the pain remains — constant, like needles piercing every inch of my body.
I can’t walk properly or hold my hands up for long.
And there’s this emptiness inside me that never goes away.

My father is angry with me for no clear reason.
They only seem to care about their work getting done:

I wouldn’t mind helping — but it would mean so much if they were at least considerate toward what’s happening inside me.

After graduation, I took a one-year break. Now, I’m in the first year of my MBA and currently not working.
My family doesn’t say it outright, but I can feel the pressure — they want me to start earning, to be “normal.”

My brother lives in Bangalore, and whenever he visits home, I feel invisible.
My father talks to him like a friend, but to me, like I’m an enemy.
Even, they celebrate / enjoy/ talk about/ support his relationship (nth girlfriend), but my relationship, the 1st and last of my life is a topic that everyone is asked to not talk about, as if frowned upon.

I realized that I haven’t yet established my worth in this house — and I can’t argue or demand respect. I have to create it.

The truth is, there’s chaos everywhere — both outside and inside.
My family, maybe unintentionally, is only making it worse.
I’m hurt, I’m in pain, and no one seems to truly understand me.

Sometimes, I feel like I want to leave home — not impulsively, not out of anger, but because I am tired and i want to start over quietly.
I dream of living peacefully, managing my health, working , and building a small, meaningful life at my own pace.

But then guilt hits me — the thought of my parents crying, of people judging, and of being completely alone.
Staying feels like slow emotional suffocation; leaving feels like breaking hearts.
I’m caught between pain and guilt, both unbearable.

I don’t know how people do it — how they start over, or find a community that understands them when family doesn’t.
If anyone here has ever left a difficult home situation, or rebuilt life from scratch while dealing with chronic illness, or just knows what it’s like to feel trapped — I’d really appreciate hearing how you planned it, and where you began.

Right now, I just want peace — not luxury, not escape — just peace, stability, and a reason to wake up without fear or guilt.

I’ve been thinking about starting a new life.
If anyone has any suggestion, opinion, advice, reference, or idea that could help me — I hope you share it with me.

It was really hard to open up and speak about what I need — but I had to try.
Thank you for reading this.