Sometimes I lie in bed thinking about my sad little life. Then I try to make sense of everything without my head exploding. I try to understand why nobody has ever liked me, why nobody has ever loved me, what I have done wrong.

I was always either too dumb or too smart, too long in elementary school, too short in high school. Was I too good at math or too bad at algebra? I really don't know anymore. Then I realize that it could be worse and that I don't actually have it so bad here. I live in a safe country, I have a roof over my head, I can go to school, and there is plenty of food...

In a war, you experience things that you carry with you for the rest of your life. You lose your home, your belongings, pets, friends that you may never see again. Maybe you lose your father or mother, grandparents, knowing that you will never hear them laugh, talk, or cry again, knowing that you will never see them walk, sleep, or enjoy life.

And you lose yourself in all the madness, you become a completely different person after the war, and you develop trauma and anxiety disorders. IF you even survive the war... Because maybe you don't even survive the war, and you die in a bombing or a shooting.

You see them all go down, one by one, all dead, everyone you ever cared about, and you know that you will be next...

But yeah, compared to my life, a war isn't actually that bad.

Let me sum it up for you:

- Depression

- Loneliness

- Bullied

- Unloved

- Hated

That's how I can make the list even longer, but I don't feel like it; then I would be busy for a few more hours.

My depression, which started when I was ten, grew and grew and consumed my entire life, not leaving any crumbs behind. The only small bits I could salvage were grandma, Noah, and Lexi. But that depression was still a mild version. Now it's much worse. I hate my life even more than my teachers.

I just don't understand what I did wrong, really. And there's no one who can explain it to me...