Why me?
Do I not deserve to be happy? Everyone I see seems so much better than me. Even if I tried, I could never compare. Was I born to suffer so that others could succeed? What did my 11-year-old self do to deserve being diagnosed with depression and OCPD? Why did I deserve to be bullied?
They said it gets better—that if life begins with pain, it ends with joy. But why am I still the same? Why am I still suffering from things I can't even fully remember? I tried so hard to forget, but the pain remains. Every hit I take, I feel myself breaking further. Is it making me stronger? It feels more like it's stripping away my faith in God.
But if not God, who can I call out to? I have no one who truly wants to listen to me. I'm left needing an imaginary, magical figure to give me hope. Am I even living, or am I just making excuses? I desperately want a better life, but I don't have the strength to get up this time. I just want everything to be okay—magically, effortlessly.
It's not that I'm not trying, but every effort I make seems to backfire. Everything I want or try to achieve leaves me with something worse. I feel trapped in an endless loop. Is death really the only way to escape it? Trying feels like part of the loop, and I don't know why I don't deserve to live like others—content with what they have, happy with their lives.
I wish some magical force could save me. My past was unbearable, my present feels empty, and I see no future ahead of me. I want to believe in something, but I've lost faith in hope itself.
Do I not deserve to be happy? Everyone I see seems so much better than me. Even if I tried, I could never compare. Was I born to suffer so that others could succeed? What did my 11-year-old self do to deserve being diagnosed with depression and OCPD? Why did I deserve to be bullied?
They said it gets better—that if life begins with pain, it ends with joy. But why am I still the same? Why am I still suffering from things I can't even fully remember? I tried so hard to forget, but the pain remains. Every hit I take, I feel myself breaking further. Is it making me stronger? It feels more like it's stripping away my faith in God.
But if not God, who can I call out to? I have no one who truly wants to listen to me. I'm left needing an imaginary, magical figure to give me hope. Am I even living, or am I just making excuses? I desperately want a better life, but I don't have the strength to get up this time. I just want everything to be okay—magically, effortlessly.
It's not that I'm not trying, but every effort I make seems to backfire. Everything I want or try to achieve leaves me with something worse. I feel trapped in an endless loop. Is death really the only way to escape it? Trying feels like part of the loop, and I don't know why I don't deserve to live like others—content with what they have, happy with their lives.
I wish some magical force could save me. My past was unbearable, my present feels empty, and I see no future ahead of me. I want to believe in something, but I've lost faith in hope itself.
