Moving back home

Relating to where you come from isn’t always the easiest thing in the world, as a child I always had a problem dealing with being a middle eastern girl from a small town in Jordan, Rebeling was on top of my list, I just wanted to save myself and get out of there.

Moving to Berlin, Germany as young as 17 was one of the bravest decisions that I have ever took, and if I regret it or not well that I’m still not sure off.

Now almost two years after that decision here I am lying in my small room in Jordan and stuggeling to get along with my family, having stopped all contacts with my old friends, back when I moved. I have never felt so alone, everyone I’m writing is thousands of miles away and I’m not sure if I’ll ever see them again, my family seems to have developed this wonderful habit of annoying me and angering me so fast, I don’t tend to be the type that gets angry that often but it’s like they have a talent. 

After a heartbreak I was hoping they will be understanding and cheer me up, I wanted nothing but to see my mother but here she is making me feel worse than I ever have, and I can’t help but wonder how have I ever been able to do it and cope with them ?

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