My story (need to get some stuff off my chest (very long))

I've known that I was gay since around 7th grade. My attractions and thoughts... it was very obvious. But I denied it. I remember crying about it and telling my parents, and they dismissed it saying it was a phase and that I was too young to know for sure. I acknowledge that 7th grade may be a bit young, but it never really changed. I never felt that I could fit in. Whenever all the guys talked about girls, I always tried to shift topics or did my best to lie about what I found attractive. I had a close male friend from 6th grade that I started developing feels of attachment for. I was scared and disgusted by these feelings, and I pretty much cut all contacts with him.Some background info. I'm from an Indian family (2nd gen immigrant) in rural Kansas. My dad is a little bit more liberal than my mom, but I thought that if either of them knew the truth, they would hate me. I thought my teachers and friends would hate me. I hate to admit this, but I've always been a "show monkey." I would try to excel in academics to hide the weird lonely self that defined my life after middle school. Those academic awards and accolades were distractions from my true problems. I did well in school and got a full academic ride to college, but in hindsight, none of those things truly made me happy. What does any of that stuff matter if you're tormented about who you are on the inside.In my senior year, there is one episode of high school that stands out. I was on my way back from a volunteering event where everybody decided to talk about relationships and girls. My suppressed feelings flared up. I felt lonely and anxious, hopeless and desperate, broken and deviant. My "phase" in 7th grade was not a phase. I parked by a bridge and wanted to jump off. I thought it would be easy. No more problems, no more self hatred, no more feelings of desperation and loneliness. Then my brother's face flashed in my head. I couldn't do it. I felt ashamed of what I had almost done, and added another level of suppression to myself.In my freshman year of college, I maintained the "straight" act. I hate lying. I hate being disingenuous, but my fear of rejection and some internalized self hatred allowed me to lie. I made two key friends through a preprofessional engineering organization. We will call them "P" and "W." P is a wonderfully creative and kind person. I was an awkward kid in this second level engineering course, and I was especially awkward since I was one year younger than everyone else. There was an empty seat to the left and right of me. I swear, P, seems to know everyone at my school, but she sat two seats to the left of me. One day, she told me to scoot over and become friends. And today, we are the best of friends.There was another program I was part of that tried to integrate unique ways of learning science into freshman curriculum. As part of this program, we had to attend these outside real life "science" events. I went to a "glacier event" hosted by a geologist. It was an outdoors event, and I also decided to sit by myself on the grass. W walked over and recognized me because we had both just been inducted into the preprofessional engineering organization. He initiated the friendship, and to this day, he is still my best friend.Freshman year passed by, and so did sophomore year. W asked to be my roommate for junior year. I was excited. For the first time, I felt like I had a close friend. Someone I could disclose anything to. I did not realize it then, but I was confusing friendship with something else. After sophomore year, I spent the summer on campus working in a lab and taking some classes. I was extremely lonely, and that's when I started having my anxiety attacks. I did not quite understand what was going on. I chalked it up to loneliness. I did not have a roommate, and the only personal interaction I had was in the lab. W was visiting family, and we kept in touch by messaging each other. He would always talk about the girls he was with in China, and I started experiencing those feelings of being "left out." I decided to find my own girl. This decision was the first stupid one in a long line of stupid decisions. I decided to go after P because in my mind, she was the closest female in my life after my mom, so it made sense. I did not actually experience any attraction or romantic feelings. I did do a decent job of lying to myself and creating artificial feelings.Junior year starts, and I become much closer to W. In hindsight, too close. I attributed my feelings of attachment to "strong brotherly friendship," and relative lack of feelings of attachment to P to "typical boyish nervousness." My preprofessional organization decided to host a formal dance as part of its initiation later in the school year. I decided to ask P to the dance (around 3-4 months in advance). Then my goal was to ask her out after that dance. As the semester went by, the sheer proximity that W and I had started taking its toll. I didn't understand why I had certain emotional feelings. Why did I freak out when he talked about living in a house with his dodgeball teammates? Why did I feel nervous when he went to a party? Why did I get angry when he was acting "aloof?" I deep down knew the truth. But I refused to acknowledge it. I wanted to be a "normal" person that my family and community could be proud of.The night of formal arrives. W and I had been elected officers of this organization. After our initiation, the dance began. Around P, I developed an unusual amount of confidence. I don't know where it came from, but I started dancing like crazy (crazy is a good adjective because there was no sensibility to whatever my legs were doing haha). P decided to leave, and I follow her out. I stammered a bunch with my words, but I finally asked her out. She initially said no. Deep down, I was somewhat relieved, but then I was also hurt? In reality, the true rejection came not from P but from myself. The self torment and hatred was from self rejection.After two days is when things started to blow up. I was studying for a 3rd level engineering course when P asked me to walk outside with her. I was rambling about one of my teaching jobs when out of nowhere, she kissed me. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was mortified. Even though I knew I was attracted to pictures of males, I was comforted by the ambiguity that since I never tried anything with any person, I might actually be straight. I was not. I had to force myself to return the kiss. My anxiety skyrocketed, and I could barely stand on my legs. I told P that it was "first time nerves." That was a lie. I knew why I felt awful. I felt awful because I could not return the feelings that P showed me. That night, I told her that I was not ready for a relationship, and my fear and hatred almost led me to cutting off all my ties with her.In my mental turmoil, I gave myself temporary relief by telling my dad that I was bisexual. Bisexual people are real, and I feel awful for trying to exploit that identity as a platform to "transition" into my true identity. I told my dad that because I was not ready myself to admit who I truly was. Surprisingly, my dad instantly accepted. He said he loved me, and nothing could change that. I then told W, who seemed to be put off, but said it was okay as long as I did not have any attractions to him...I still was not ready to tell the whole truth. I then communicated the "half lie" to P. She was a little taken aback, but deep down, I think she could see the real truth. She is very smart. Then winter break started.Winter break consisted of me studying and preparing for my role as an officer of the engineering organization. I started feeling awful. W snapped at me for asking him to do something for the engineering organization, and he had an offer from another one of his friends to live in a house (the invitation was also extended to me). I was angry and frustrated, to an unusually high degree...an irrational degree. I felt betrayed even though I was not. My anger was unusually sustained, and I needed to tell the truth. My dad and younger brother had gone to visit some family in Florida. I had to stay home because I had some work that needed to be done. My mom stayed with me, and I told her the truth. She cried, but she accepted me. To my incredible surprise, she said she was okay if I chose to "live up North with a special friend." It was an unusual way of putting it, but it's not easy on her. She did not know gay people existed until she left India. Gay people do exist in India, but they are heavily marginalized, and homosexual activity is considered criminal. I felt like a disappointment. I could not have children, and likely my younger brother cannot either. He has some deficits and may require adult assistance when he is an adult (which I will 100% be there for). When my dad got back, I disclosed the whole truth. I have never seen him cry before, but he assured me his love. My mom scheduled an appointment with a local counselor, and I divulged everything. For the first time, I told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. There was no going back. I called W and told him the truth...the entire painful, awkward truth. I also told him for that reason I could not room with him next year.School started back, and things became awkward and distant. W did not really talk to me like he used to, and I felt awful. I felt abandoned and hopeless. I disclosed to P the whole truth as well. She accepted it, and we fully mended our friendship. It turns out, W had a likely closeted friend back in high school who asked to do some "awkward activity" with him. I reminded him of that friend. That made me feel even worse. On top of the self hatred and loathing, I felt guilty. I felt like I lost a friend. I felt like I used W. I don't know that any of these feelings are rational, but I certainly felt them. That night, I took the can opener from my drawers and cut myself. I placed scars on my upper right arm, chest, and legs. I then took a hot shower to inflict a burning sensation on myself. We ended up having a snow day the next day. I was tormented, and W didn't really sleep that well. My feelings of guilt were still extremely strong. I started behaving very irrationally. I snapped at W. I told him things that I knew would hurt him. I asked him to hit me to fight me. A very damaged version of myself took control. W contacted my dad, and he drove over to campus. After the blow up, we both became calm. He promised to patch things up and restore everything to normal. My dad stayed the night and comforted me.About a week or two afterward, he started acting aloof and distant again. I'm really not sure why. He still is not disclosing anything to me. On top of that, I have been hanging out with another officer and his friend group, and the same feelings of self loathing triggered by the talk of relationships made me feel bad.I've gone to counseling, and it feels like nothing is working. After every "resolution," my feelings of hopelessness and self loathing always flare back up. I lose my sleep and sense of peace. They always say that it gets better, and I'm holding on to that hope. I acknowledge that I'm gay, but I don't think I've come to fully loving and accepting myself. I've inflicted so much unnecessary damage onto myself. My parents showed me unconditional love, which makes me luckier than many. Yet, I still feel bad. So many gay people seem to be so proud and self accepting despite rejection from others. I find that amazing, but it's something that I have no idea how to even approach. I want a future where I can truly love who I am. I really want to be happy and at peace. That's really the only personal goal I have at this point.I apologize for the wall of text. I just wanted to get this out. If you read or skimmed over this, I appreciate your attention. I wish you guys all the best!