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The struggle with mental health feels like a skibidi toilet ride through a goon-infested realm. My family, with their sigma mentality, never discussed feelings, just toughen up. My dad's past in the Marines left scars that went unspoken, while I battled anxiety since age nine, not even knowing the name for it. The day my dad passed, it was like a ship sank slowly in murky waters. Therapy was a lowkey detour I took twice before drifting back into darkness. Self-harm became my edge, while suicidal thoughts crept in daily. I became a ghost, sleeping through life, hoping to find a ship that would float again.