Life. It sucks.

So, I've pretty much given up on life. I'm done really fighting. I'm done striving for a better life. I'm done fighting for transition. I'm just ready to die. I just want relief. Life's never going to get better. Let's say somehow I'm able to escape my parents. I'm going to either end up in some shithole to live in on the bad end of town because that's all I can afford or end up sleeping in my car, which is most likely as I'm not responsible at all. Then, I know I should cut off my parents completely, but if I do, there's no support base I have at all. I have no friends. No one in real life likes me. I'm annoying, immature, cynical, really loud, etc. Seriously, I have a horrible reputation. It's obvious that I never grew up. I'm stuck as a child. I try to grow up and act like an adult, but when I do it only makes things worse because I have no idea what I'm doing. When someone tries to befriend me or help me out I just end up scaring them away. Either I get too clingy, or I push them away, or they realize I'm so screwed up that I'm dragging them down. So, now I've decided it's time that I just learn to keep everything to myself again. I mean, I already pretty much do anyway, outside of surface level stuff and vague references to what I'm dealing with. Super unhealthy, but everytime I open up I get punished for it. So, yeah. I got no friends or anyone who really cares about me. No one who I can rely upon when I genuinely need help. Don't get me wrong, my parents don't really help or support me, but at least they give me some help. I got no one else who gives me any help. So, I kind of have to keep with my parents, so I might as well still live with them. All of that means, I can't transition. I mean, I'm going to be depressed and suicidal due to my trauma anyway, so why not? Hopefully I get so suicidal I end up killing myself and put an end to all this pain and suffering. It's gotten bad enough that my mental pain has turned into physical headaches that don't seem to go away with medicine, because I've tried. I've even started harming myself, something I never even had the urge to do before, until like a week ago. It's scary but delightful at the same time. I love the rush of emotion when I'm doing it. I actually feel something for once. I'm scared of doing it before I do it, but love it when I get myself to do it, and then afterwards, I don't feel anything, outside of some mild horror that quickly goes away. It's my only coping mechanism outside of screaming and panic attacks. Panic attacks that almost kill me due to weak lungs, but I hope they do. I was supposed to die as a baby and boy I wish I had. I know I shouldn't be ungrateful for life, but how can I be grateful? What is there to be grateful for? I'm tired of just being thankful for having a roof over my head, especially knowing how conditional it is. I'm tired of just being thankful for the small things. Especially as they flee from me so often, like food, I'm often not hungry whatsoever. I have a horrible family, a horrible church, horrible everything. I'll never have a "real" family because I'm unlikeable. I'm incapable of having a healthy relationship with anyone. I'm going to be lonely. I'm going to celebrate next Thanksgiving and Christmas alone. I'll be completely alone, well, I'll have my suicidal thoughts to keep me company. Yay. See how wonderful my life is going to be? Sure, I'll be completely miserable on the holidays and birthday if I stay with my parents, but at least I won't be alone. So, it's a little less miserable. There's nothing to look forward to. Me moving out and transitioning will only bring more pain. Why do I keep fighting for a more miserable future? Why can't I just accept my horrible life now as the best option I have? Why can't I just grow a spine and kill myself? Why can't I just accept that I'll never be happy? It's my lot in life to suffer and be depressed. When I die, no one will care. They will weep for a week or so and then move on. Boy, that knowledge does wonders in keeping me from killing myself (yes, that was heavy sarcasm). No one cares about my existence. If any one cares at all about my death, it will be because they're celebrating. I hate myself so much. I'm unlikeable, unloveable, and unable to ever be happy. I'm not worth anything. I present a fake, happier, more hopeful, joyful version online just because I want some validation. It's not me. Anyone in real life if they saw me online wouldn't even be able to recognize me, and anyone who knows me online only wouldn't be able to recognize me in real life. I'm a phony. I'm a fake. I just act hopeful on social media and Discord to be liked. This main blog is the only place on the internet where I'm not fake. Even on my Tumblr blog I'm fake. I keep thoughts to myself and act different just to not lose followers. It hurts me when I lose followers or I don't get any interaction etc. All I seek is validation, and thus, when I don't get it, I sink into a deep depression. All I want is to feel cared about, even if it's fake. Heck, that's why I'm considering trying to suck up to my parents again like in the past, stupidly trust them and try to pretend that they care about me, just so I can feel better for a little bit, until they inevitably break my heart again. I'm done fighting for a worse life. Do you know what's the worst thing though? I'll keep doing the things I claim I'm not going to do, and keep making my life worse because of that. I'm addicted to pain. I hate myself so much.