Needing to vent about guilt, identity, family, and feeling stuck (This is going to be long)

​First off, sorry in advance for the long post. I’m also using AI to clean up the language, as English isn't my first or second language.

​I grew up in a fairly big family. I live in a comfortable house, always have food in the fridge, have loving siblings, and a (hopefully) bright future as I near the end of my bachelor's degree. The opportunities I have are far more than most people on this earth could ever dream of. That’s why I feel so much guilt writing this down.

​I’m a 27-year-old woman living in Europe with a migration background. Even though my family has been here since the 1960s, I still don’t always feel like I fully fit in, even though this is my country. My main language is the language of the country I live in. We mostly speak that with my father, while we speak Arabic with my mother.

​I won’t explicitly name the country I live in or where my family is originally from, though you can probably guess by the end of this.

​I feel almost silly talking about this because people will likely point out how privileged I am. But I can’t pretend that I’m doing okay.

​I won’t go deep into my upbringing, but as the eldest daughter among 10 children (I have one older brother, and the rest are younger), I carried a heavy burden. Even though my older brother helped out a lot, I still bore the typical "eldest daughter" responsibility.

​Despite everything I did, I always felt like my parents never appreciated any of it. My father once even admitted to me that he knew he treated me the worst out of all my siblings. My mother, on the other hand, never owned up to it. She denies it and tells me I’m dramatic, even though my siblings agree with me. But hey, that’s the classic mother-eldest daughter dynamic, right?

​It caused me a lot of pain. I think I was depressed for most of my youth and struggled with dark thoughts around the age of 16.

​Things improved as I got older, mostly thanks to my friends. I love those girls more than words can say—they honestly saved me. They’ll never read this because I’d never share this post with them. I don't want to burden them any more than I already have over the past 15 years, which is why I’m venting here instead.

​On paper, I should be proud of what I’ve achieved. I went to top-track schools, got my A-levels (Abitur), and went on to study a subject I genuinely love. That’s a privilege not everyone gets. But lately, I wonder if it was the right choice.

​I study political science, so I’ve been very politically engaged throughout my 20s. That’s grown even heavier as the far-right movement has gained power here over the last few years. At the same time, my family's home country is facing devastation. Parts of my family are still there, refusing to leave because they love their land too much. It breaks my heart to watch my people suffer while I live safely. The guilt is immense and hard to put into words.

​Simultaneously, the current political climate in the country I grew up in makes me feel unwanted because of my background. I never wanted to leave, but after years of shifting politics, I don't know if I have a future here. But where else would I go? My origin country is in ruins, and the country where my whole life, family, friends, past, and present are doesn't fully accept me. I feel like I'm in the middle of a full-blown existential crisis.

​Then there’s my relationship with faith. I grew up Muslim and still identify with the core values of Islam. But I struggle with genuine belief. I read a lot of philosophy when I was younger, and Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus had a profound effect on me. Ever since, I’ve felt the weight of absurdism. I find myself not truly believing, yet desperately hoping it’s true. The idea of dying into pure nothingness feels darker to me than the concept of hell for blasphemy—as ridiculous as that might sound.

​My parents started picking up on my doubts. I rarely spoke about religion, never voiced opinions, and kept my prayers private (doing them on and off). My mother eventually confronted me. We had a massive fight that ended with her telling me she wished I was more like my siblings, and predicting I would go to hell.

​I stayed quiet because I’ve gone completely mute with her over the years. I stopped reacting to her criticism a long time ago. Growing up, she called me names and told me she didn't enjoy having me around because I was "too loud, too manly, and too independent." The argument was also sparked by me mentioning I don't want children, which she viewed as deeply unreligious.

​I know I need therapy. I know I’m not in a good headspace right now. The world around me feels like it’s crumbling, and here I am crying about how hard my life is in one of the richest, safest countries in the world, finishing a degree without debt. The guilt for feeling this way is overwhelming.

​I think I’ll stop here before I keep going on about how ridiculous I feel.

​Just for clarity: I am safe and won't harm myself. I just know that if I don't talk about this or get help, things will keep spiraling down.

​If you made it this far, thank you for reading. I'm grateful this subreddit exists as a safe space to get this off my chest.

​Hope you all have a good day