A short vent story

Dysphoria

I gripped onto the rim of the porcelain sink. Tears flooded down my eyes, streaming down my face and falling onto the floor into small puddles. I looked into the mirror. Seeing myself made me cringe, an ugly looking scowl went across my face, and slowly my eyes lowered, looking at the ace bandages that were wrapped around my chest tightly. I felt disgusting, and everything hurt. Another day. Another day of this fucking torturous world. I was sick and tired of everything, of every single problem I had to face. "Why.." I muttered to myself and sobbed. "Why!?" I repeated, this time I spoke harshly, almost sounding as if I was angry. I cried more after that, soon collapsing onto the floor and weeping there. My hands were shaky, and I trembled. My legs felt as if they were jello, making me almost unable to stand up.
I couldn't stand this anymore. I couldn't stand the hurt I faced. I couldn't stand having to be something I wasn't.