Why was I abused as a child? Why was my dad violent towards my mom? Why did they have to divorce? Why were we poor? Why was I such an awkward child? Why was I bullied? Why didn’t anyone help me? Why was I really weird and stupid and just….silly? Why did I get anorexia? Why was I bulimic? Why did I never make friends? Why do I lie in life? Why can I not fucking decide what I want to do for my career?

Why am I not good at the things that I wish I was good at?

Why do I suck at everything I try to do?

Why am I depressed and anxious?

Why is it always me? Why do accidents happen to me, why do I break bones or fall over or get sick or end up in hospital?

Why was I raped? Why have men treated me the way they have? Is it me? Do I deserve all this?

Why was I born in Finland? Why am I in England? Why can’t I leave? Why am I here anyway??

Why haven’t I ever been able to kill myself? Why have people abandoned me? Why do people hate me so much?

Why do I suck at everything I do? Like, WHY?????? Why can’t I be prettier, skinnier, happier, better at…things?

Why am I getting older in body but younger in spirit?

Why can I not be happy to have a roof over my head and food to eat? Why do I not realize that half of this world is suffering and that I really actually am okay?

Why am I so fucking jealous of everyone and their looks, money, success, happiness? Why can’t I just be me? Who is me, by the way?

Why do I bitch all the fucking time? Can I just never ever just be happy for what I have? But what do I have? I want to ask.

Why oh why am I so unhappy and confused and anxious and sad and depressed and moody and low and bitchy all the time?

Why can I not just be someone else?


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