You're just trying to make sense of everything, and you end up making sense of nothing. Trying to sort your thoughts will confuse you more, my dear.
Does anything really matter? Why can't you just accept things the way they are? Does everything need to have a reason? Does everything have to have an explanation?
Just breathe, darling, and feel the oxygen in your lungs, feel your heart beating against your ribs, feel your throat constrict; feel alive. Challenge yourself; push yourself to your limit.
Use your muscles. Feel the thud of every footstep course through your body as you run, run away from all your fears. But it doesn't matter how far you run, Honey; you're scared of what's inside you, and that will never go away.
Feel your muscles burn, feel your skin sting with the cold and your lungs scream with the air they cannot hold. Feel the tears run down your cheeks as you collapse onto the ground, struggling for something you cannot reach.
You know that the answer's behind the next door, but you're in a room with oh-so many doors. Which one to choose; which one to live by? How can you make a decision without being informed of the consequences? How can you know what you want when you don't know who you are?
Get up. Leave. You cannot stay where you are, curled in a ball, until someone comes to rescue you. Get out of here yourself. You're only running in circles, you need to learn how to fly. Believe you can do it, because you can. Imagine that you're out of here, because that's only a bit longer away.
Put down your weapons of self-destruction, because you need to get out of here alive. Now push off the ground and fly into the light.
One,
Two,
Three...