I finally confessed to my family about my depression and suicidal attempts. I always try to pretend to be okay around them and for five years I did my best trying to strengthen our bonds. I always did my best to keep planning activities together, slending more time, helping them with their troubles. I expected to have built up a little bit of good will. But they expresed apathy towards my depresion. They could no believe nor understand what I was talking about. Is like everything until now was a lie. Is painful. My confesion just destroyed my connection to them. I will never be confortable being around them anymore. Tonight, I feel more inclined than ever to end my worthless life.