In February of this year, I lost my mother. Throughout my life, we had a pretty rough time. She was an alcoholic, and while at first I had tried to be there for her, to listen and support her, eventually I ran away (meaning I gave up). She kept letting me down every time I started to hope that she might be turning things around. About twelve years ago I moved to Japan and I have lived here ever since. I never could afford to visit the States and this is where my life is, so there was no moving back. My father and I have a...distant relationship. I'm a part of the LGBTQ community, and he's never really made his peace with it. He will tell me that he loves me, but any time I talk to him it feels pretty one sided. How are things? Good. How's life? Okay. I'm having a rough time. Okay, well, do your best. My brother and his family live with him so...well, I guess he has that going for him. I used to be able to talk to my sister-in-law when things were rough and I needed someone to talk to, but with her father suffering from stage 4 cancer, as well as her having a terrible year herself, I can't really lean on her. My brother loves me, I know he does, but he's not super communicative either so I'm out of luck there. My wife of seven years is amazing, but we don't fully speak each other's language and she's quite a bit younger than me, meaning that she's not really able to process and understand what I'm going through. She is sympathetic and she loves me, but I can't really talk things through to her. When my mother finally recovered from her addiction, I spent the last five years starting to talk to her more. She and I got along swimmingly ,and I knew I didn't want to have any regrets when she passed so I would talk to her somewhere around three to four times a week. No matter how shitty my day was, I knew I could call her and talk. She was my support. I could talk to her for hours and I always felt better afterwards. Then she was gone. She just died in the middle of the day during a nap. I got a day off from work, but I was expected to report to work the next day. So I shoved it all down and tried to go about my life. I couldn't and still can't talk about her without crying. I'm crying now. My eating habits are going to shit as I know my depression levels are building and building. I keep ignoring it and hoping it will go away, or that I will get to the acceptance point, but it still hurts. I have recordings of the two of us talking, and I can't listen to a single one of them without losing it. I can barely get a few minutes into one before I have to turn it off. I can feel the depression building up in me. My lack of control when it comes to eating, a lack of motivation and a deep sadness that just won't leave. In some ways, I feel like I'm getting worse, not better. Money is tight, right now, or I'd go and see a therapist. I'm not in danger of starving or anything, but I don't have the hundreds of dollars it would take to go see one. Today, I hit a wall, and sought out my options. I guess I just wanted to have someone to talk to. I try to show the world that I'm okay, but I'm not.