It's sad to see the death, pain and hunger in our world.  
It's hard to accept the number of people who suffer for various reasons.  
It's unacceptable to continue to allow the number of children who are abused.  
These things burden me in a profound way.  
My soul is darkened, my spirit is shaked, I get angry.  
Why is everything in this life that is supposed to be good is not?  
Why are frustrations, fear and anger a part of my life on almost a daily basis?  
Why do I feel guilty talking about my problems after seeing all the other problems in this world?  
Why can't I be whole, happy and content for once? I think I could help others if I were whole.  
Should I just shut up and go away?  
Is it possible that my pains and frustrations in life are so deep and intense that one cannot begin to understand?  
Is it possible for one to be cursed?  
Why is it that no matter how many people or organizations I contact I still get no answers?  
Why is my therapists telling me that she was almost speachless once she heard my whole story, almost in disbelif? She has never dealt with anyone who has had so many hardships in her life.  
Why is my psychiatrist telling me there's nothing else he can do for me?  
Why do I feel distant from people I should feel close to?  
Why is it such a terrible thing for one to chose to change the course of his or her own life?  
If there are answers, I have not found them.  
If there is real hope, I can't seem to see it.  
If there is a light at the end of the tunnel, then I must be blind.  
If life is happiness, then I must not be living.  
It's not like I started looking for answers yesterday. For more than fifteen years I have been pondering these thoughts. I keep hoping for change, for a miracle that's just around the corner, but it seems that every corner I have turned, I meet with yet another tragedy.  
I don't understand. The older I get the more confused I am.  
All of the efforts I put forth on a daily basis seem to have no rewards.  
I have always tried to help others, and put others first, especially my family.  
I sat on the roof of a house about 27 feet off the ground and pondered the way down for a long period of time on more than one occasion.  
I pondered parking my car going down the highway many times in a fashion that would require no breaks.  
I can't sleep because of certain frustrations. This is not new.  
I can't remember the last time I woke up and felt good, without pain, without frustrations, without fatigue. 
I can't remeber what true happiness feels like. 
I can't remember what hope is. 
I can't remember a day that I didn't feel ill in one way or another. 
We all come into this world in the same fashion. 
But we are NOT all created equally. 
People have mentioned that I should read certain books, I have serious problems reading; I can't focus. 
All's well that ends well. All will end.