However, the event came suddenly.

The kids were playing pranks and made some ridiculous remarks about my efforts.

Normally, I wouldn't have minded so much, but their lack of appreciation and respect for their father made me angry.

I repeatedly told my wife that it was important to be polite to their father when raising them.

At my wife's parents' house, I feel that my father-in-law is treated very lightly.

It is hard for me to forgive my wife's parents for transplanting this style of the family into our home.

However, my children are strongly influenced by that style.

Not being able to ride my road bike or even train on the spin bike must have put a lot of stress on my body and mind.

I felt intense dizziness and ringing in my ears and locked myself in my room.

My younger child put a note in my room saying, "I'm sorry," but I was too agitated to respond.

The older child is insensitive like my wife, so they don't know anything about it.

The reason I endure the three-hour commute to work is for my children.

I want to move out of this unpleasant city right now.

However, I endure it because I know that it is not good for my children to change schools.

My children are growing up without any financial hardship, but that's because I'm living on the edge of my life.

My children's lack of manners may be partly due to my wife's education and partly due to their personalities.

In particular, the older child, like my wife and her mother, is highly active and impulsive.

This impulsiveness is also present in the younger child.

I cannot allow my children to make fun of their father.

I am not going to take good care of such children.

Why doesn't my wife scold the children when they do something rude?

Is that the way it is in my wife's family?

A father is not a customer service receptionist or a comedian.

A father who lives a serious life should be an object of respect.

Anyway, I suppressed my anger, went into my room and decided to go to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, something was wrong.

My body felt heavy, and I could not motivate myself to move.

Perhaps it is because I have hypersensitivity that I can imagine this. Still, I felt as if I had entered a large transparent capsule with a radius of several dozen meters.

I couldn't even bring myself to greet my wife and children.

I got ready and headed for work, but something was still wrong.

I felt like I was losing motivation, and my body was sinking into the ground.

Of course, I couldn't get any work done. I had recently recovered from burnout caused by family troubles and the stress of commuting to work, and I was happy to be able to move my head and body as I expected.

But now it's different.

My head and body feel heavy no matter what I do.

And by the time I got home, the transparent capsule that had been covering me had become even smaller, feeling like it was only a few meters in radius.

I sank ankle-deep into the ground, and the sky seemed awfully small.

This is not good.

When I arrived home, I didn't feel the urge to see my wife and children.

I said "I'm home" to my wife as usual, but I had dinner alone at midnight in silence, and I fell asleep.

As for my older child, who had been rude to me as the father, I set up strict parental settings on the newly purchased smartphone, restricting phone calls and short messages.

With these settings, the older child's smartphone has only the same functions as a Galapagos feature phone.

Of course, LINE and YouTube are banned, and almost all online sites are now unavailable.

That's enough to child.

Children who don't have gratitude and respect for their father don't need charity.

At home, I no longer have any conversations with my wife and children, except for what is necessary.

Moreover, at work, I no longer talk to except for what is necessary.

I think this is a situation where I'm on the verge of a burnout relapse.

My emotions are diminishing, and I'm living on auto-pilot mode, using what I call Avatar to assist my brain.

This is too bad.

I enjoyed Avatar a lot when I was recovering from burnout, but Avatar is my lifeline when I'm heading for burnout.

Perhaps there are many people for whom avatars do not arise.

In that case, people will probably try to die themselves.

Life and death are so close together, but many people are unaware of the distance between them.

Perhaps there is a program in the animal brain to abort one's own survival, to relieve oneself of suffering in a too painful situation.

It is easy to interpret if we think that this program's remnants are still in the human brain.

Simultaneously, there seems to be a program similar to a survival instinct that tries to stop one's own death.

I think the being I call Avatar is probably such a program. Maybe it's because I have hypersensitivity that I'm able to sense its presence.

I wonder why I sacrifice my work for my family, yet they have no appreciation or respect.

It must have something to do with my wife and children's personalities, our family's lifestyle transplanted from my wife's parents, my own stress tolerance, and many other things.

In the first place, I am not cut out to start a family or raise children because I am a father.

Do I really need to support such a family?

Does being a father mean that I have to accept such absurdity?

There are many fathers out there living happily ever after, so how did my life end up like this?

But fortunately, thanks to Avatar in my brain, I have been able to continue my life without rioting at home or to take a leave of absence.

But Avatar is only an avatar, not the real me.

When I continue to work by Avatar, I lose my motivation.

I can maintain the various skills I've finally unlocked after recovery, but I can't do much more than that.

I will no longer desire to learn new things or continue to work harder, and I will be satisfied with the status quo.

Most importantly, if I lose my emotions while remaining hypersensitive, I will suffer as if only my brain was thrown into a tank.

There is nothing to expect from anyone, nothing to expect from me, just living.

Now I am depleted of adoration for my family, and I feel as if I am continuing to marry and raise my children as an institution.

While my Avatar maintains minimal communication with others, the actual me feels like I'm trapped inside a transparent capsule, sinking to the ground.

I'm not making it easy by moving myself remotely with my Avatar.

When my true self completely sinks to the ground, it means that my own emotions are completely depleted, or if the situation is bad, suicide is approaching.

The stress caused by the children's lack of politeness was only a trigger, and by then all sorts of fatigue had accumulated in my brain.

The huge changes in society caused by the pandemic must have taken a toll on my psyche without me realizing it. I've been busy with work.

Cycling was a way to alleviate the damage, but now I couldn't even do that.

Besides, my children were growing up, and while I tried to be a good father, I was exhausted and worn out in reality.

However, when I found out that my children had no appreciation or respect for their father and that my wife had overlooked this situation, the line that had become a limit for me was broken.

I've endured so much and continue to be a father, so why doesn't my family care for me?

Is that the natural state of a father?

After enduring so much pain and suffering, what could be in store for me?

I'm not in a state of homecoming phobia, but I'm afraid I'll have to invoke my avatar and live at home like before.

Now that my children have been born, I will raise them as a father.

However, I don't have any great love for them.

To be precise, my wife and children have destroyed the love I have for them.

There is no way I would want to return home to such a family.

When I come home, I feel bitter, like when I have a hangover.

Will I still have to live with the role of a father?

For now, the only thing I can do is endure the thoughts of death and try to stay alive.