A letter from May 4th, 2020

I don't understand why my parents find it funny to make fun of me for something I can't control or a mistake I wish to take back. Like, I get it, I'm not the perfect child you thought I would be. I'm sorry I can't be her. I'm sorry my whole life I've felt like I'm worthless and I don't mean anything to anyone and you saying those things don't make it any better. Because I know god **** well you aren't perfect, but I have to be? You don't take my mental stability or health into consideration and anytime I bring it up you shrug it off. I can't help myself with it, I've already tried it didn't work, I still feel so ******* useless. But the minute I ask for help it's like I'm trying to seek attention or it's some joke, I get I joke around a lot but that doesn't mean I'm not hurting and hiding so much. Because while you may have seen me cry, you don't know what goes on in my head. You don't see how I have to keep myself from losing it and just ending it all. You don't see my hugging my stuffed animal while crying myself to sleep because it's the only thing that seems to comfort me anymore. I just want a hug and for someone to show that they care. Do I get that? No. And I know I've been drifting from the family, but that's only because for the past years you've made me feel like the outcast like I was in everything else. Because I can't even fit in with my own family. Because my family just looks at me as a disgrace and even if I do something that I'm proud of, its still not enough for them. I'm just not enough and never will be. So whats the point in trying? Whats the point in continuing to deal with all the ******** in the world? When I can just end it all and never go back? Because right now it seems to be a nice option.