😽🔞🤮

My ask → #askboot

Anyway, right now I'm in so much pain.

I want to hurt myself, but I'm too afraid to cut myself, and I'm too afraid to make myself throw up. I'm scared of the scars. I'm disgusted by vomit. That's the kind of pathetic person I am. Sometimes I even envy people who can cut themselves or throw up. I tell myself that if I can't even do those things, then I must not really be suffering. I'm just weak. Just spoiled. A miserable person pretending to be in pain.

Since yesterday, I've been hitting myself with a belt over and over because I don't know where else to put these feelings.

I just want to die.

I've carried this feeling—that I never should have been born—for more than ten years, and I want it to end.

The person I truly wanted to talk to barely talks to me anymore. Now my entire mood rises and falls over comments and direct messages. If someone says something negative, I become negative too.

Lately, everything feels frighteningly similar to the time, years ago, when my depression became so severe that it wrecked my nervous system.

I just want these feelings to stop.

Everywhere I look, people are happily posting about Cats. Beautiful artwork, beautiful performances, beautiful memories. Hundreds of likes. Countless reblogs. Endless replies.

I have none of that.

I can't even draw anymore. No matter how much I practice, I never improve.

There was a time when I won national art competitions in Japan. I even received a silver prize at an international competition. I won so many awards for essays and writing that teachers joked there wasn't enough room to list them all on my report card.

I used to be the gifted child.

Then I entered high school and grew to hate studying. My grades collapsed, and now I attend a university that people look down on. Lately I've been skipping classes more and more. Even when I go, I just sit in the corner staring at my phone.

I don't even feel like talking to my friends anymore. I know I'm only causing them trouble.

My father even took on a part-time job in addition to his regular work just to pay my tuition.

All I've ever done is burden my family.

How many times have I made them cry?

When I cried because I hated wearing my school skirt?

When I hit my head, overreacted to the pain, and ended up in an ambulance?

When I gave up and didn't even show up for the second-round entrance exam for a national university?

On my mother's side, both of my cousins are intelligent, attractive, and kind. On my father's side, one cousin became a police officer, and another served in the Self-Defense Forces before going to university.

They don't need me.

The family's bloodline will continue without me.

In fact, maybe someone like me shouldn't pass on their genes at all.

I'm the only defective one.

I just want to disappear.

I don't even want to attend family gatherings anymore. I feel so unbearably ashamed.

From the bottom of my heart, I wish I'd never been born.

Sometimes I even curse the part of myself that fell in love with Cats.

It's all my fault.

I hate myself.

Some people would probably laugh if they read something like this.

That's fine.

I'm exhausted from comparing myself to everyone else. I can't believe anyone when they tell me kind things anymore. Every message I receive changes how I feel, and I'm so tired of being controlled by other people's words.