I feel incredibly lost, and empty.

There's so much about myself that feels like one great big lie. 

I spent so many years struggling with self image, the overwhelming burden of who I was told to be. But now I don't even know who is staring back at me when I look in the mirror. 

Who am I? 

My Mother wanted me to be someone, like her. A woman, wrapped in thorns, screaming out as she's pulled beneath the ocean. A wounded soul, unable to address the pain that was unleashed upon her. 

Dad was just the same, but different. I was wearing a face that wasn't mine. A culture he claimed we held. To be proud, and stand with those he said we were. Ancestors that were not mine. Blood stained my feet. It wasn't my own. It was a lie he shoved into me. 

Who am I? 

None of this fits. I don't know where I belong. 

It all feels...oppressive. Stifling my breath. 

Where do I stand in this world? 

Who am I? Where do I go to from here? 

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't they just stop lying and forcing their ideals upon me? 

I don't know how to fix any of this. I just wanted to have a normal childhood. To exist without pain, with loving parents that knew how to shape me into a whole person. Not this broken creature, struggling to pick up the pieces. 

I've cut my hands on them so many times, my fingers are covered in scars. I want to scream out. Let the world know my rage. To show them how much I've been hurt. But it all comes out as a muffled whimper. 

Why..

Why do I exist?