I should have just died at birth. I actually tried making this stupid life worth living and it's all wasted effort. Nothing improved, as manic episodes don't count as "happiness". I will always be burdensome scum and a waste of flesh and resources. I'm always going to be emotionally, mentally, and physically stunted. I'm always going to be a joke to society. I'm always going to feel like a void trying to blend in with the actual people. Nothing will improve regardless of how much I try. My only choices are being abused for the rest of my life despite everything, and being a burden at work and on society of the actually loved people. I don't enjoy anything anymore. My life peaked at 4. I don't see a point in trying to improve myself anymore.
Updated, clearly people are not ready for tough love here.
I sure hope there is no next life. If I can't sever myself from the past then I give up. There's no point in living if everyone still knows me as an ugly racial slur of a birth name and if I'm still going to suffer from things that happened years ago. I can't move the smallest amount without being drained, literally plugging in my phone makes me out of breath. I can't take this anymore. Parents should be allowed to euthanize their unwanted children.