Hello everyone,
I've been having a really difficult time lately and just wanted to share something, and I've been writing and re-writing this for about two hours, It started as one thing and now it's completely different. But I have no one I can share this with and I think this is the most appropriate place.

I think I am in self-pity mood.
I think I should also add the following, though not what part of what I wanted to post.
I didn't know I suffer from depression until I was diagnosed about 4 years ago, I quickly came to realize I had a lot of anxiety. Shortly after, I started thinking about my childhood and re-evaluating it. This process has been going on a while. I started to suspect I may have been abused, but when such thoughts appear I would usually try to find a way to discard them. I read a lot on different diagnoses, that I thought could fit me, but ultimately did not feel like the right fit for me - such as BPD, ADD, Aspergers and few others. Now I am at a place where I can at least online say - I was emotionally abused and neglected and I believe I suffer from cPTSD. I was controlled and ignored (it sound contradictory I know). My upbringing affected me in a way that made me incapable of loving and receiving love, enjoying many simple things, or even trying to build a life. I feel like my carer stole my heart, motivation and life, and all I have left is the pain. When I was at the age of 10 or 11 I had a calcium deficiency. On the x-ray my bones were transparent. My main carer at the time bored into my head that the deficiency was caused from me growing up too quickly (I was slightly taller than the other girls). And she believed that. And why would I not believe the person that I love the most?
At the end of last year (two decades later, and after many years suppressing my memories) I had a 'light-bulb moment' - I did not have a medical issue due to me growing up too fast - I was simply malnourished.
And I am so so very angry and sad about that! This was just one of the many things I got blamed for instead of her taking responsibility. Apart from that school year where I was stuffed with two eggs each morning to get the calcium I need, I was never given breakfast, and even if I knew breakfast is the norm, my priority in the mornings was to get out of the house without being seen (which meant avoiding the kitchen) as to not cause any outbursts of anger. That meant also no food at school, at best I would have a meal a day at dinner. I was often hungry, though I can't say starved. But in her eyes the reason for this was me growing up (dare I say with the same rate as other kids) that was the reason for my calcium deficiency (and at the time not diagnosed anemia), not the lack of her care for me.
Was this calcium deficiency a bad thing? Was it abusive? No. Apart from the pain in my legs it did not affect me really. I would happily continued to live with it if it mean not having more attention on me. But the cause of it I believe is abusive. This should not have happened. I did not deserve it. Someone should have helped me. There were witnesses. They are guilty too. It's not just the food thing. There is more, but this is all I wanted to share tonight. Even now the doubt creeps in me - did I over react? Did I imagine? Was it as bad? I don't know. I only know how I feel....