The public outburst. The shame and running away. The realisation that there's nothing you can say or do which won't make things worse. That horrible word which burns like a giant neon sign in your mind's eye: Depressed.
Much of it is this terrible feeling of hopelessness which translates into the certainty that nothing what you or others do can improve anything, along with the equally certain notion that nobody cares about you anyway, let alone your problems.
Thus you hide away. Ashamed. Hateful towards oneself. Frustrated with the world. Amidst a growing pile of unfinished household chores, hygiene suffers. Why care about such things? Only through occasional moments of brightness or merely the strength of one's mind does one manage to struggle through daily life.
Part of you wants to believe so badly that there is help out there. That a better existence than this is possible. Yet bitter experience has made it clear that there is no hope, nothing to look forward to.
You're broken. Your mind is broken. You're the problem. Not those who did those horrible things to you. You should have been stronger. Just brighten up. It will be fine. Just don't expect a helping hand. You're on your own.
For what you have is something even worse than leprosy: you're Depressed.