“my Child Is Completely Fine”

I don’t know if i was ever meant to be here; it’s been a debate in my head on a constant if i was intended or not. if i was a loss of judgement or a testament to love before marriage. Either way, i myself, have always felt lost. like a message in a bottle adrift at sea, without purpose, and everything surrounding you clueless as to what is inside you. No one ever wonders about me, believes me when I say I’ve endured trauma and mental struggle more than the average, that i have been exposed to things no innocent should be. But what do i know right? I’m just the person living in someone’s aftermath. In fact, this is true of multiple people. Because I’m not just my parents, but the friends I’ve encountered, the relationships I’ve had and lost, the sufferings they’ve had and the anguish they still endure, I’m forever tethered to it all. Unable to breathe in my own breath without wondering about them, wondering if i could have done something better to make them happy, satiated, perhaps more stable, when in fact i am the one left unhappy, unsatisfied and unstable. I’m left is a state of disrepair i can not mend even myself and everyone is unaware; because i keep chasing their problems and create solutions to everything but to my own trials. There are so many miles i have yet to see and yet i barely have the energy to make it past mere feet, I’m not certain what i will ever be when all I’ve ever been is in misery of those who creating me.

I feel ugly—inside and out. I can’t stand being looked at. I can’t stand looking at myself. I hate how I look. I hate being seen. I hate what I see. I’m not comfortable in my own skin. I avoid mirrors, I avoid people, I avoid myself. Everything about it feels wrong, but I don’t know how to make it right. I’ve tried to change it—my thoughts and my appearance—but nothing works.

— мєяакι

sometimes i want to smash my head on concrete