I feel terribly depressed every day and want to die.

After graduating from high school, I enrolled in the economics department of a prestigious university in Tokyo by taking out student loans because of my financial situation. I was aiming for a career in an IT-related field, where even women can earn a relatively stable income, and wanted to work as an information-processing engineer. Because of unavoidable circumstances, my commute was extremely long. Every day, I went to school on packed trains while carrying more than 5 kg of reference books. Since I was receiving a scholarship, I studied day and night to maintain top grades. To contribute money to my family, I did papa-katsu (compensated dating in Japan) as well as working part-time at a nightclub. Honestly, I had not even the slightest bit of time to have fun. Of course, I had no particular resistance to studying for the future. I simply went through my daily studies without expecting either pleasure or hardship. But whenever I see my former high school classmates who went on to university, or my coworkers from part-time jobs, enjoying the kinds of entertainment appropriate for their age and immersing themselves in romance or the subjects they love, it inevitably hurts. While I was selling my body to survive and building up knowledge, they were gaining the education and culture that enriches life. We were fundamentally living in different worlds. The truth is, I also wanted to study history, philosophy, and economics as academic subjects, even if they might not be directly useful for finding a job. I fully understand that each family’s financial situation is different, and that ultimately it was my own fault for failing to get into a less expensive national university. But it is obvious that people who have lived more comfortably than I have will receive greater social recognition, while I use my diminishing asset—youth—as a weapon, sell my body, and wear myself down physically and emotionally to turn it into money. Even if I build a highly specialized career, I am still just a prostitute. Even if the financial gap is eventually resolved, there will always be irreplaceable differences in education, in how much fun we had when we were young, and in the time and experiences we were able to have. Many of the men who flock to women who market their youth and bodies are, despite being people I receive money from, frankly not very intelligent. I do not mean that they are incapable of studying or working—I mean they lack basic sense as human beings. Honestly, if I were not struggling financially, “papa-katsu uncles” were the kind of people I would have wanted nothing to do with. To be completely honest, about 90% of the men at the dating club tried to communicate with me while making tactless comments and approaching me in geeky-looking, physically off-putting appearances. I was carrying all that stress inside. Even in a place like this, I wanted to experience youth too. Every day, I took care with my makeup and clothes for musty old men, and I felt utterly miserable and pathetic. But even after finding a job, I became an IT engineer. Because of my family circumstances, I still could not quit papa-katsu. When I eventually give up on remaining single, will I be forced to build a family with some disgusting old man? Even though women are making greater strides in society, these are still uncertain times. I am worried about whether I can support myself financially in the future, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to let go of this feeling of misery. So I am approached by men I do not even want, who tell me I am beautiful. I try to keep my appearance and accessories understated while still looking presentable, but could that be exactly what makes it easier for creepy men to approach me? I did not have to be a model student. I wanted to spend money on fashion and walk around town with someone I loved, creating young memories of my own. After seeing the ugly side of men, I can no longer develop romantic feelings toward the opposite sex. The truth is, I wanted a devoted love with a man my own age who would love only me. Why do I have to become an outlet for men who could only marry women who are unattractive, poorly educated, neglectful of sex, food, and their appearance, yet still lounge back and throw their weight around in the living room? How am I supposed to live the rest of my life?