I remember looking at the appointment letter and seeing that I had to be at the bank today the 20th at 4:30pm. I had serious anxiety about an hour before leaving and the guys I live with kept telling me that the people are nice and everything will be alright. Well, that turned out to be some real baloney. As soon as I walked up to the doors there were people looking at me like I was invading their space or like I didn’t belong there. I walked inside despite it and was a bit confused with the new COVID setup as I haven’t been to the bank for years. Anyway, as I was looking around trying to assess the situation this man looked at me all rude and exclaimed “what? You looking for the ice cream man?” I didn’t think much of the comment and thought perhaps he was a bank guard so I said “I’m sorry, I’m a bit confused how this is all set up, do I sign in right here?” He continued to be a total ass, but I ignored it and signed in and awkwardly stood to the side waiting to be called. Everyone continued to stare at me really weird, there was even this old guy outside holding this chick and he would not stop looking at me. I felt so out of place and uncomfortable, and that was only the beginning of this horrible situation.Turns out that the real bank people could not find me in their system, so they left me standing in the lobby while they figured out if I had made the appointment at a different branch. When a different employee came out a bit later I was told my appointment was not for tomorrow and that he could not take me back to skip past the line. I was confused why my appointment was pushed back a day, perhaps it was an error on their end or I mistook the date. I tried to explain that I was confused but the guy started treating me like I was selfish and impatient or something, so I shut up and pushed on. As I walked out in shame and humiliation I could see everyone staring at me, even people who had just shown up were staring like I was some alien or something. Either they were judging me for my looks or I must have put on a show.I told my boyfriend’s dad what had happened and he tried really hard to cheer me up on the way home explaining that I should be grateful I look so young, but I had this sinking feeling in my chest like anything could make me cry at that moment and the only thing that could get me to feel absolutely nothing at all was to think about slitting my wrists. I don’t want to have everyone get all worried about me if they see the scars so I’m thinking of taking a shower to cry and cut my leg instead. I hate how young I look, I hate having a baby face, I hate being ostracized by society, I hate that I have to do all of these greatly uncomfortable things all on my own, and I fucking resent the dumb bastard that hit my car, I resent my insurance company for barely giving me enough money to afford a new car, and I hate how the guys have been pressuring me to get a car loan I don’t want. If I had it my way I’d kill myself tonight, or never leave the house.Unfortunately, I have to go back there tomorrow to discuss whether I can get an auto loan or not. The whole idea makes me nauseas, like I know deep down this is the last thing I should try to do with the economic state of the world right now. But I need a car, a lot has happened to my Mom and I’m scared that I can’t be there for her. My friend has a birthday party coming up and I don’t know how to get there. I promised my grandparents I would go visit them, but with what car? I’m tucked into this corner with no way out.The really fucked up thing about today is that I woke up in a good mood, I started to overcome my prior depressive state, and I started to feel real content and happiness with my life. Why is it that every single time I leave my depression cocoon that bad things happen? Am I just unable to achieve any slight amount of bliss in my life? Is it really so fucking hard for other human beings to be kind and compassionate? The fact that I’m so easily hurt by the world just proves that I shouldn’t be alive, like I’m some weakling that shouldn’t have survived this far. I would seriously die to have cancer or some incurable disease, I would gladly change places with those who actually want to live in this pile of shit we call Earth. Even worse than that is if I even tried to attempt suicide some dumb corrupted medical people will revive me, force me to “willingly” go to their hospital prisons, and then slap a giant bill in my lap as if I should be grateful for their help.