My name is Naoki Hoshino.
I am a former office worker living in Tokyo. Today is a small but meaningful milestone for me, because I have chosen to publish this blog as tangible proof of my decision to accept a painful past. At this very moment, I am taking my first step into a new phase of life.
After graduating from university, I spent nearly twenty years working in the chemical industry. I gained experience across several companies, and in each of them I was engaged in business development and marketing.
Like many people, my days were filled with the pressure of targets and endless internal coordination, making them demanding and often exhausting. Even so, the experience of working across both consumer-facing and B2B businesses proved invaluable, broadening my perspective as a professional.
Above all, I felt a quiet, modest pride in working within Japan’s chemical industry—one of the country’s enduring strengths.
Facing a Major Obstacle in Life — Psychiatric Care, Depression, and Sick Leave
A few years ago, I found myself facing a major obstacle in life. I could no longer withstand the stress of work and relationships, and as a result I became unable to regulate the rise and fall of my emotions.
For example, a colleague’s casual remark could leave me despondent for hours, gripped by a tight, painful sensation in my chest. Each time, old bitter memories resurfaced in waves, making it impossible to focus on anything.
At other times, when I encountered situations that ran counter to my beliefs, a surge of defiance rose from deep within me, and my behaviour towards others became unusually sharp. There were moments when I even cried in front of colleagues out of sheer frustration. I felt embarrassed, yet I simply could not contain the emotions that overwhelmed me.
In both cases, it often took several hours before I could regain my composure. All I could do was wait for the emotional waves to settle.
I also became increasingly hesitant to communicate with others, afraid of how violently my emotions might be shaken. One colleague even described me as “a bit of a misanthrope”. From the outside, my reluctance to engage with people must have looked that way.
In this state — visibly different even to those around me — I was eventually encouraged by my partner to seek psychiatric care. I was diagnosed with depression and placed on sick leave
However, at the time, I had not yet realised that what lay deepest in my heart had little to do with work at all.
The Moment My Career Came to an End
At the beginning of my sick leave, I fully expected to return to work after a short period of rest. I had a genuine passion for the work I was responsible for, and even though I felt myself reaching my psychological limit, the idea of resigning had not yet crossed my mind.
But stepping away from work for a short period did nothing to lift the weight pressing on my chest. Only later did I understand that the true cause of my suffering lay not in work, but in long-standing family issues.
During the period of rest that has continued to this day, I attended psychiatric appointments and took the time to reflect carefully on my life. Gradually, the underlying cause — long-standing family issues — finally came into view. The moment I recognised it felt like a sharp blow to the chest, yet at the same time I could not help wondering how I had failed to see it for so long.
Looking back, I had carried a quiet pain rooted in my family environment since childhood. I had kept a lid on those feelings and simply pushed my way through each day. But when I faced a major obstacle in life, it became impossible to suppress that pain any longer.
Without being able to fully understand the source of my struggle, I eventually resigned from the company where I had worked for nearly ten years—just a few months after taking sick leave.
When the time came to leave, I felt lost. Part of me insisted, “You can’t quit. You mustn’t throw away the career you’ve built.” Yet deep down, another voice whispered, “You can’t keep going.”
Even after resigning, the conflict persisted. I felt both guilt for giving up work I valued, and relief as though I had finally been released from a long battle.
Even so, I did not feel any regret. I believe it was because, unconsciously, I had long been preparing myself to face an unavoidable reality.
Inferiority and Responsibility — Two Conflicting Emotions
Since childhood, I had carried two conflicting emotions within me
One was a deep-seated mix of inferiority and anxiety—negative feelings directed towards myself.
The other was an overpowering sense of duty and justice—a belief that I must take responsibility for others.
Even now, these emotions surface almost daily. I long for a lighter, freer way of living, yet these internal constraints hold me back.
Sometimes I feel a vague irritation without knowing whom it is directed at. At other times, the frustration turns inward and I blame myself relentlessly.
For many years, I kept these complicated feelings locked away deep inside me. I simply wouldn’t have been able to cope with daily life otherwise. Now, I understand that these emotions stemmed from the family environment in which I grew up
Psychiatry and Counselling — The Fear of Opening Up
For several years after taking sick leave, I spoke as openly as I could with psychiatrists and counsellors.
Many people, I imagine, hesitate to reveal their inner world to others. I was no exception. I feared that touching the emotions I had sealed away might lead me somewhere I could not return from.
But when I finally found the courage to express my feelings one by one, I noticed that I could observe them from a slight distance.
I continued speaking not only about work, but also about childhood experiences and long-suppressed emotions. Through the feedback I received, I began to examine my difficulties in living from multiple perspectives.
Through repeated self-questioning, I finally came to recognise the root cause of my difficulties — the depth of the problems within my family. That realisation became the moment that prompted me to begin rebuilding my life with a sense of hope.
