(Just in case, English is not my first language, so sorry if I make any grammar mistake)Ok, this is something I've been struggling with for a while now, but I have never been able to speak about it properly as it's kind of a difficult topic for me (even if it feels kind of stupid somehow) but I want to let this out. For around 4 or 5 years now, from time to time and mostly when I feel isolated for a long period of time/I feel extremely lonely and mad, I start feeling the urge to hurt myself. I keep thinking about how could it be or how I could hurt myself all day when it happens. When it gets too bad I can barely think about anything else and I feel numb, I can't feel happy even if everything is good and it's almost as if the people around me just disappeared, I just feel tense. It feels like I'm not real, if that makes sense. Because of this, quarantine hasn't been good for me as you might've guessed. It's like a feeling that tells me that nothing else matters, and that it won't matter if I get hurt or die, because what happens to me or this body isn't important anyway, because I'm not real. Sometimes it's like I hate myself so much that I can't stand being with me for too long, even to the point of wanting to disappear or feeling like I should be punished just for the fact that I exist and for being me. I even keep having really weird dreams that involve other people or usually just me hurting or killing myself, too. I've also dreamt that I ask for help or try to warn people about it, but no one hears me or they tell my that I should go away or that I probably deserve it. In many (most) occasions I dream that I just lose my mind and hurt myself really badly to the point of no return. Having these kind of thoughts makes me feel like I'm a horrible person since I don't consider that I have a bad life at all; I have a family that loves me deeply and I love them back, I have some great friends, I have the opportunity to do things that I love, too. My life is good, really good!, but there are times in which this feeling is just... There. It lingers and crawls all over my skin. And I hate it, because I don't want to hurt the ones that I love; that's actually the reason I haven't told my family, because I don't want them to blame themselves, they have done nothing wrong. I actually don't understand where this comes from. And I feel incredibly selfish and stupid for not being able to brush it off, because I know there are people out there with bigger problems than me. I feel like I'm not trying hard enough.I also have a hard time telling my friends or other people because I know they don't want to hear that kind of stuff because it can be painful or uncomfortable. I know people don't want to be around someone that feels sad half of the time. I know I'm making things uncomfortable half of the time. And I'm sorry for that. I know this might seem like I'm just being overdramatic, but it's something that's been really hard for me over these years and I needed to let it out somewhere. I've been keeping this to myself for years. On a brighter note, at least I guess that I can control myself better now, it also doesn't happen too often. The last time that I couldn't control it and hurted myself was around 2 years ago, I think, so it's been a while. Plus I started going to therapy recently, so hopefully that will help me more too. So... Wish me luck, I guess!