Hi Y'all. I've never been diagnosed with PTSD or even told anybody the entire honest truth about what I think has probably traumatized me. For one, it's hard to talk about. Also, at times I wanted and could talk, the words wouldn't come out because I felt like I could never put all my bad feelings on another person and make them feel how I do. When I was about 14 years old, I ended up living in an apartment by myself for a couple of months. I had no friends, family, or any other type of guardian who even lived in the same state I was in. At first, I went grocery shopping, cleaned, and lived my life. But I became very lonely very quickly. Suddenly, there was no one to say hello or goodbye to. No one to laugh with or talk about the day with. And if I wanted to see another person, I could only look out the window. I still remember looking out the window and watching people walk by with their families. I'd watch mothers and children and think about how far away I was from anyone who loved me and who I loved. I realized that after I moved into this apartment and stopped going to school and communicating, nobody had called and asked where I went. I realized I had no effect on the world at all. After that, I stopped taking care of myself and would either sleep, look out the window, and listen to music, or try and relive old happiness through past memories with friends who I thought had cared for me. I lived like this for months. One day, I just felt my mental tether snap and I couldn't take being so sad anymore. I didn't feel like I deserved it, but I decided to buy myself some chocolate to try and cheer myself up. As I was checking out, a man who seemed very angry and upset came up to me and told me I'd skipped the line to checkout and needed to go back. Someone working at the store came and told him that he was wrong about where the line started and that I was fine. When I got back to my apartment, I looked in the mirror and saw the face of someone who just tried to go out and do one thing for myself for the first time in months and I couldn't even make myself enjoy it at all. A couple of weeks later, the pandemic happened and I moved back in with my parents. I turned 15 years old soon after moving back in and hoped that this big life change would fix things. However, the sadness and loneliness stuck with me. Now that I'm in college, I still feel the same. I've tried talk therapy with little success. This isn't everything that happened (just can't bring myself to even write it out)...and I know that humans are social creatures and being literally physically alone for so long is bad. But it's been like four years...and I'm not alone anymore. What I really can't understand is why I still feel like I'm just looking out that window at what I can't have, if it's PTSD, or if it's just the way that I feel forever.