I may or may not be mentally ill, as my mother did everything she could to bar me from any treatment and convince me that i'm fine, that therapy is a scam.
because of this, i still largely view myself, at the very least, to be not mentally ill, or at the least, not seriously ill.
But ever since i backed out from hanging myself and squealed it to my school, events out of my control made things worse, which over time made me believe that i should've done it when i had the chance; when i had the chance to die young and clean, rather than grow old and dirty.