Hi,
I'll try to be short, I've told this story way too many times, it doesn't help.
I was born into a broken family, with a distant mother; when I got of age of having free will and a conscience, my father and mother would start fighting, since my father cheated on my mother, and my father blackmailed my mother into forcing her to stay at the household. Because of that my mother became an alcoholic, she would get very very drunk, and one of the thing I remember the best was having to cary her obese body with by father because she had passed out because she was too drunk, in the middle of the street.
My father was the "nice guy" of the family, to me at least. Apparently he wasn't too nice to my half sister and half brother (since they weren't his). I always was very close to him, he was like a very good friend sometimes, but it changed rapidly since when I was around 11 I learned he had liver cancer.

After that nothing was really the same, my marks started falling, and a year after that I'd get bullied, but not physically, I would get told by people to kill myself, or that I would die alone/didn't deserve to live, that would last for 3 years. I didn't have a lot of friends, at all. After some time my father would get a liver transplant, which was great, until of course something called metastasis happened.

At this point things got pretty bad, because I'd literally get to see my father die away, my mother had to stay to take care of him, even tho she hated him, so the situation was pretty tense. As of my father, his eyes went yellow, then his skin, then he needed a cane to walk, then a wheelchair. At this point I was really depressed, and 3-2 months before my father died, my mother decided that it was "too much" for her, and left, I was alone to take care of my father, screaming because of the pain in the corridors. This mentally scarred me, I don't even remember a lot of it, because I spent some of my time pretending nothing was happened. After a while my half-brother came to get me out of there because I was getting really bad.

Then someday we got a call that he was in trauma center, We buried him, and after that point I became a NEET, for 2 years, I stopped studying. **** happened, I got diagnosed with disorganized schizophrenia, hospitalized many things, etc.
After these 2 years I had a "crisis" where I would just run out of things to do, as I would not go out, I would wake up, go back to bed, and wait, and that lasted a few weeks, after that something happened, and I don't know what, almost like I had lost a part of me. Afterwards, (and that was 2 years ago from now) I started going back to "school", and it was hard but I re-adapted, but I never managed to make durable friendships, or relationships.

This feelings, that I can't quite put my finger on, that has been happening for 1.5 years or very well 2 weeks. A feeling I can't describe, that I don't understand, it doesn't sit well with me. A feeling of distress, it's a mix of Deep hatred and anger, confusion, I feel like crying out, but can't cry, and I haven't cried since my father died, and haven't managed to cry since.
Like I said I never managed to forge durable friendships, I can't care about anyone, I can't love anyone, it's like I hate everyone.

I'm not depressed, or I've been depressed so long it's a part of me now, and that bothers me, It's like I'm broken and unrepairable, no therapist has been able to "fix"/help me, no medication (that I've stopped taking since a month ago, by the way, but before that I was on Xeroquel). I struggle to develop social links, to get close to people, for some strange reason.