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Simply, Why?

Life. What an interesting concept. And yet, few people really stop to think about the fragility of it.

Sure, we all have questions. Big questions, small questions, questions about where we come from, or where we are going when we die. Sometimes, we ask the same things over and over. And even though many people have questions about life, very few want to pursue them. Life is just a series of questions spanning out over the course of time.


Why do I feel this way? Why can’t I be normal? Why do I mess up all the time? Why is this happening? Why does life even exist?

Many people deal with issues like anxiety or depression, drifting through life, just trying to get by day after day after day. And they ask themselves “why?” Why can’t they beat their demons? Why can’t the turmoil of existence fade away and produce inner peace among the souls? Why is life so difficult? Why do they feel like they can never change?


Question upon questions. And all have a deep value to the one asking them. No matter how small the question may be, it is asked in order to receive an answer. But how many questions really have answers? Some questions remain unanswered for years, or decades, or even centuries. People have searched for answers to their questions for a long time. Why aren’t they finding them?

Each individual has their own set of values. Their own experiences, morals, and struggles. That is what shapes the questions they ask. Three hundred people could all have the “same” question, but need entirely different answers because of the connotation connected to that question based on how each person goes through life.


No matter how hard you try, or how much you might want to walk in someone else’s shoes, you can’t. You will never be able to step into someone’s shoes and experience the same exact things they have. In order to do that, you would need to be born into that person’s family, be raised how they were raised, meet the same people they have met, feel the same feelings in the exact same place, or time, or moment. You would need to ask the same questions and be looking for the same answers.

Why does my anxiety cripple me? Why can’t I just “stop feeling sad” when I’m depressed? Why do people expect things of me that I will never be able to achieve? Why did my dad leave my family? Why is my mom hooked on drugs? Why can’t I be loved? Why isn’t my grandfather beating cancer? Why did my sister have to die?

Each question is riddled with confusion, and each question expects an answer that no one can give. So many questions. And all the deeper questions seem to be started with one word.

Simply, why?

Credit: Hailey Woerner

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