Why always on my birthday?

Why do I always make someone cry?
Why am I the disappointment?
Old scars, already revealed, meet new ones.
New solutions?
Whether by the hour,
psychiatric clinic...
I don't know if I'm the problem,
the problem that troubles my parents,
the problem that keeps my mom awake at night.
An answer I don't know.
They ask me questions,
but there are no answers.
What I want to say,
doesn't come out of my mouth,
it just fades away like a pure exhale.
I know, I know it's my fault,
that my stupidity, naivety, or kindness...
I wish I could give my parents an answer,
but only tears wash my face,
and the wounds on my hands hurt again.
It's not their fault,
it's mine,
they blame themselves, but they don't see the point.