Written on 16/02/2026
Real name Lily, I'm a woman born in Brazil.
Ever since I was a kid, I've been obsessed with art, and creating things in general.
I was also born with a love for the world and nature, adoring to learn new things and study complex topics.
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I was born with a condition that in Brazil we call "Superdotação", translated it becomes "Intellectual Giftedness", but the stereotypes and ideas carried by the word "Giftedness" make me dislike using it.
Due to this condition, I developed a mind that was "advanced" for my age, which lead to great detachment from those around me.
I slowly developed a distaste for hanging out with other kids, and started hanging out in "adult spaces" instead...
But as we all know, even "mature" kids dont fit very well in those places, which lead to even greater detachment.
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Eventually, I became what most would call a "nerd", I was very wise and great with maths, I could ace any test that came my way.
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I didn't have many ties, especially friends.
The one friend I had, someone who I became friends with during age 5 though 7, was someone I'd mostly hang out with to play games.
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Something about my condition which is hard to understand for some, is that it makes me "picky" about who I hang out with, and conversations I join.
It's not by choice, I have an inability to connect with people through "small talk" or simple conversations about hobbies, I need to "learn" something with a conversation to be able to enjoy it. It needs to have great depth, beyond what most people are able to talk about in their daily lifes.
At age 9, my mother was called into school, for a standard parent-teacher meeting.
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What she didnt expect, was the concern that came from teachers. I slept a lot, I disengaged, I was distant, silent, my presence was like a ghost.
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My teachers suspected I had depression.
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As any caring parent would do, she took it seriously, and tried to take me to a therapist for examination, and indeed, my behavior was abnormal for my age, but the suspicion my therapist had wasn't of Depression, but of OCD.
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I had repetitive habits, fixations, and very precise necessities. It might sound familiar to some reading this, as my condition is actually very similar to Autism.
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We had some sessions with the therapist, but eventually we stopped due to financial reasons.
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Fast forwards a few years, my ability to exceed with standardized tests, pattern recognition, and great memorization skill were recognized more and more by my teachers and peers. Eventually I ended up competing in the OBMEP test, a test made to test the skills of participating students and assess the school's teaching capability.
It's a country-wide test, so it's rather high stakes, It's very advanced for some, but it was something I personally considered a breeze.
I competed in that test for several years, since it happens frequently, and eventually, I earned a medal for being between the top 100 students nationwide.
My school ended up even having a whole banner in the entrance
"Congratulations (My Full name) for the ranking in the OBMEP test!"
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I ended up becoming rather well known in my school, and that was at about age 11.
And as with any kind of popularity, it had it's issues.
I wasn't a cool kid, someone interesting to my peers, I was just a name everyone was familiar with now, and as such, nobody really "wanted to be my friend" because of that.
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What did come though, was bullying.
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I began being mocked behind my back, people would laugh at me and give me glances.
At that age, I was too naive to notice really, I was so socially awkward I recognized it as just an interaction, I didn't see the malice when it happened in front of me.
Well, I didnt for most of the time, but eventually I did...
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My friend from earlier, he studied in a different school, but eventually he moved to mine.
He was in my class even! I was so happy and excited, its all I would talk about for the first few weeks before he actually joined my class.
And then he joined.
First day, I was so excited I walked with him all the way from the entrance of the school to the class, talking to him. Not that he was listening though.
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I entered my classroom, so excited to talk about him to my class. My teacher presented him and then....
"Be careful of Lily! She's gross"
"You don't want to sit next to her"
These weren't such nasty comments but... he was also my best friend, my ONLY friend. I was scared he'd abandon me, because I was aware that nobody liked hanging out with me at my school.
I cried and yelled "He's already my friend! Stop mocking me!"
He reassured me it was okay, I was fine. I believed him, at least for a few weeks.
Then it began, he would say he wanted to hang out with others, I would invite him to do things and he'd always be busy, and I would feel more and more left out over time, until, eventually, he hardly talked to me unless I chased after.
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I tried to cope with it, and I was somewhat okay, at least I felt that way, but years later I learned it was just masking and detaching myself from my emotions.
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I had another acquaintance at school, I should mention.
He was also a nerd so he didn't really care about the comments, so we would hang out here and there, but it's not like we were that compatible as friends, so we never grew that close, but in hindsight, I think he was the only reason I was still sane.
I graduated Elementary School, ready to move on to High School, I felt nothing but relief, I was disgusted at my past and would rather pretend it didn't exist.
Then, 2020 arrived, COVID happened, and I really was, in almost all senses, socially isolated, I had nobody. Nobody but a friend I made 3 months before, who is today my partner.
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I felt so alone, he lived in another country, spoke another language, I couldn't connect like you can with an irl friend.
I had to resort all my venting to him though, I would cling to him with my life, since he was the only person who I felt cared for me for real. I'm sure he must've been exhausted of it back then.
I finally grew a connection, I felt listened to for the first time in my life, but while it helped, it also made me realize how bad my past had really been for me.
I felt so miserable, alone, abandoned, neglected, betrayed, I felt like I was wrong just for existing, like I didn't deserve to live.
In April 2020, at 14 years old, I had my first attempt, if you can call it that.
I held a knife to my neck, crying, wanting to die.
It was almost it, but I felt so scared as well, that my body gave up.
I collapsed and sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Apathy kicked in, and I became an empty husk again, walking like a zombie to do my daily routine.
I went to bed, slept, woke up the next day like nothing had happened.
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I was struggling with my identity, who I was, why should I be alive.
As a side note, this is also when I first began to draw digitally.
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Eventually, as time passed, I became more at peace with the idea of dying, so one week, I decided enough was enough for me. I began saying goodbye to the things I loved. I said bye to my cats, to my hobbies, and without telling them, I also said goodbye to my family and that online friend. I gave myself a week to get ready.
On the last day, with one last drop of will to live, hours before when my definitive suicide would be, I messaged my doctor, saying goodbye to her. I have Hypothyroidism, and due to it and my "peculiarity", I landed myself into an outpatient unit of medics who'd monitor my health upon other things, that doctor I messaged being the "leader" of said unit.
She urged me to go there, NOW.
It was so late, it was like 8pm, not an usual time for doctors to be attending to patients.
But I wanted to live, deep down, so I went.​
She helped me find a Psychiatry Center, that was free (Free healthcare is the best), and would take care of me until I was 18.
She wouldn't let me go home without my mom, so we called her there and the doctor explained the situation. She cried, she assured me she'd be there for me, and then we went home.
She hid all sharp things from me, and she hid it well, because I would continue looking for them for the next year to come.
And then, since that meeting with my doctor, I began attending to CERSAMI, an unit for teenagers to deal with disorders, drugs, and other mental things extreme.
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I would go there weekly, vent, talk about things, but honestly I don't think there was much growth from therapy. It definitely helped me stay sane though, at least.
I began taking meds, trying out new things, and eventually I got myself stable enough to live regularly.
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You'd think it's over now, I was medicated so I was fine, but thats far from true, I still had several crisis episodes, and it wouldn't go away.
Eventually I was diagnosed with Recurrent Depressive Disorder, which I am not "cured" from to this day, and which I have dealt with since very young.
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After a year, at 15, me and my partner eventually fell in love. The age gap was suspicious though, and my parents were concerned with pedophilic intents, so it was a hell of a fight.
Eventually, my dad, who's divorced from my mom since I was 7 or something, came to my home, when mom was away, to "talk" to me about this partner of mine.
He threatened to take legal action against him, bluffing though, since he didn't even know how. But I was scared, I told him that my partner was the only thread keeping me from losing it. I blatantly told him that if I lost my partner, I WOULD kill myself.
And then he went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, had a breakdown and threatened me saying that "if I want to die so bad, he will do it himself".
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It was a mess of a night, and honestly traumatizing.
I dont even want to talk about it much.
But it made me distance myself from my dad, who honestly, was emotionally abusive my whole life. Eventually, a few years later, only two years ago, wemade peace, somewhat, I don't hang out with him, but he has grown and learned from it.
A few months after that incident though, my mother took time to truly observe me and my partner, I was completely transparent with her and honest about it all.
She realized he was actually a nice person, no bad intentions or anything.
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It was at that point where my life slowly became better.
I still tried to choke myself with my hands several times, and I tried to Overdose, but I took harmless medication, thinking it was threatening.
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After I turned 19, we met for real, we hung out and went on dates, I felt the happiest I've ever been.
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I had a surgery inside my stomach, and he was there for me during it. I'll never forget the way he took care of me.
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And now, as I write this, a few days from becoming 20 years old, I am in a phase I can finally look at my art for real.
I am taking care of myself, trying to improve my creativity, though I'm looking to change my meds due to emotional blunting.
I create this website to register my brand, and make a page where I can express myself without being censored by social media, or risking a ban that could erase everything.
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I want to create a community where I can make sure people like me, who feel like they have been betrayed by the world, or can't find their place in it, can find suport and make friends.
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My mission as Yagasa, as this online Identity of mine, is to become a great artist, and in that process, raise awareness about mental health, and the way different people perceive the world.
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If someone you know, struggles with bullying, suicidalness, depression, anxiety, or any other things which harm their mental health, I ask you to reach out, not forcing them to talk, but with kindness.
Listen to their silence, be there for them even if no words are spoken. Give them a hug.
If that person is you, find someone you can count on, and try to let things out.
If you have nobody, please let that person be me, message me and tell me your struggles, and I'll be there for you.
Yagasa - The Umbrella to Shield the ill, and Protect them from a Hostile World.