"It took me twenty-two years to let others understand me; but it took me a lifetime to learn to let myself be truly seen."
This is my autobiography, a book full of dark thoughts and gentle struggles.
I was born into an ordinary family in the countryside. I was born with speech and articulation disorder, which has caused me to have a small problem of "not being able to speak clearly" since I can remember. In primary school class, I was panicked when I repeated my name countless times but still wasn't understood; when my classmates imitated my words, my palms turned white; my family said lightly, "I'll be fine when I grow up," but didn't see me practicing my pronunciation secretly at night until my throat hurt... These small grievances, like spring rain, wetted my childhood little by little.
I tried desperately to integrate into the world: I tried to find warmth in a quarreling family, but I only learned to be silent; I tried to open my arms in a strange campus, but was isolated and hurt again and again; I was deceived in adolescence, my sexual orientation was not accepted, and the emptiness of relatives leaving one after another... When the wind of fate blew, I was like a weak grass. I could only curl up in inferiority and anxiety. I even secretly thought that if I disappeared, I would not be so tired.
Fortunately, text caught me. I wrote all the unspeakable grievances, the softness hidden in my heart, and the longings I dared not express in my diary one stroke at a time - the words would not be too vague for me to speak, nor would they interrupt my talk. It was like a gentle tree hole, containing all my brokenness and expectations.
I write this not to complain about the difficulties of life, nor to gain sympathy from anyone. Just like Ye Zang in Osamu Dazai's novel, I just want to spread myself out in front of you: no matter how cowardly and timid I am, how much I long to be understood; how much darkness I have experienced, how much I hope that people who come after me will take less detours and be treated more gently by the world.
If you have ever had "unspeakable" worries, and have been licking your wounds alone one night, you may be able to see in these clumsy words the self who is hiding in the corner and who is as eager to be embraced as tenderly as you are.
My dear Please try your best before that.
The meaning of writing it is either rebirth or destruction
I seem a little tired
Intention: Incomplete life and broken heart