Is it normal i make myself cry on purpose?

I go through different ways of making myself cry.

Sometimes I just re-watch really sad shows or movies just to make myself cry.
I just get so invested that I put myself in the place of some of those characters and it makes me feel so hopeless and worthless. One show in particular is Bojack Horseman (it's on Netflix).
Although at a glance I am nothing like him (drug user, washed up celebrity, horse) I still feel the same way he does sometimes. He does selfish things and is aware that it is selfish, but he looks for validation that he isn't selfish. In one of the episodes he outright states "Diane, I need you to tell me that I'm a good person."
South Park, "You're Getting Old"
Rick and Morty, "Auto Erotic Assimilation"
(Even musicals. I listen to Hamilton's "Burn", "Congratulations" and all other songs related to Alexander Hamilton's affair. I imagine myself as him even though I've never cheated or dated anyone in my life. It makes me want to apologize on his behalf.)

I know that it doesn't make any sense, but sometimes I go out of my way to feel horrible about myself, even if I have to pretend or make stuff up.
I will literally write stories in my head about a fictional life and live it inside my mind.
One I frequently revisit:
I am a young man with a wife as depressing as the weather in our city. Each day I dread waking up in the morning, and each night I get choked up thinking about living another day.
At work everyone is open with how I disappoint them, and they explain my employment as "pity from one of the higher-ups." I know they're right, so I let them verbally abuse me.
At home my wife grows tired of my lack of emotions and unwillingness to change. She sits me down and we have a long discussion about how, when we met, I was different. She expected so much more out of our marriage than what was given. It's alright though, because she has gotten used to my constant failure. Just so long as she gives up on me she can continue to live peacefully. It's even better for her when she berates me.
I continue my downward spiral. I lose my job, my family, my will to live. I start doing drugs and wander the streets looking for someone that will pity me enough to help me.
It works in small dosages, but that isn't enough to move me forward. I have reached a point where I realize I have contributed nothing and have taken to much, so I end it all (usually from jumping off a building.)
I am able to see my funeral, where a moderate amount of people have arrived. The majority praise my final act as the one good thing I've done for the world.
Life goes on and people recover just fine; some people are even better off for it. I see my daughter and wife grow up happy with their new father/husband. He is a kind man and can properly provide for them.
My coworkers are able to get along with each other and connect far better than when I was around.

Finally, there are the murder fantasies. Not of other people, but of myself.
I imagine being locked in an entirely white room with a clone of myself, and the ability to summon any weapon of my choosing. I proceed to brutally beat myself to death (and shooting the body for good measure.)

When I think about it, I feel as though a part of me is desperate to be validated in it's own way. I want people to say "yes, you are a bad person."
Is that normal?