Life Stories and Everyday Drama

"It's filthy disgusting

So ugly, I'm sure

I'm ugly, disgusting

And filthy for sure"

this lyrics reminds me of myself lol, like how come did i mastubrate wishing someone would rape me bc of how unloveable i am? im the youngest sibling, the loner, the ugly side character. i felt loved by the slightest affection, i felt chosen when i was sexually assaulted. i just wanted to feel loved. but since im not even half decent, i just know no one would date me, so i touch myself imagine it was someone else's just to feel loved. how pathetic.

So there is this guy in my class that i am friends with. He says he has dated a lot of girls (16 girls to be exact). And i have only dated 1 guy ever before. So while i don't like that he is a so called playboy, Idk why but i still like him.

We used to spend a lot of time together cause he is in my class and we also live in the same building. and one night he got icecream for us so we went on the terrace and sat together eating it.

So he initiated all of this by getting the icecream, eventually we both said we liked each other and then we even kissed (full blown makeout session actually)

All of this meant a lot to me as it is my first time at it. This continued for like a week, he "lovebombed" me. We even went on two movie dates. It was all like too good to be true types. It was very perfect to me, so i started really really liking this guy.

And well he basically stopped talking to me abruptly. And that has left me all heartbroken and clueless. Like why would he himself initiate the spark, tell me that he likes me, do all these nice things for me, and then just leave?

My boyfriend works in management at a private school, and during the holidays the school does a big clean-up. Recently, he brought home bedsheets, pillowcases, blankets, and even the curtains from the nurse’s office so that I could wash them. I don’t mind doing the sheets and bedding, but the curtains are extremely heavy, and on top of our regular house chores and laundry, it feels like a lot to put on me.

When I asked why he didn’t just use the outside service the school mentioned, he said it would cost the school money and that since we have a washing machine and a dryer at home, it made more sense to do it here. I tried explaining that the curtains are heavy and not easy to deal with, and his response was simply, “I bet.” It left me wondering why this task has suddenly become my responsibility in the first place.

Not a day goes by that I don't ask where she might be. I don't know, but I somehow feel like she'll return sooner or later. It's as if the distance we took had been a time for closure.

We became engaged, but she immediately asked me to distance ourselves. We didn't bother maintaining contact through other means. The one we had was simply our face-to-face meetings. She didn't bother with this aspect, and I didn't want to insist. I felt tense.

I don't know why it didn't go further, nor do I know the reason why she cut me off. It's the feeling that I make her tense because we're dating, and also because of the other people's needs. I have to admit, I felt that the other people didn't want our union, and it's a lie that people respect unions; they play a lot of games to destroy them.

Likewise, I left contact between us, despite everything, and I strategically managed to get her to store me among her contacts. I can't communicate with her because she's blocked me, but that already means she's putting me in a holding pattern and she can turn to me. I had to do it discreetly, so she'd have an excuse for blocking me, and not just leave me hanging or reject me, which would make my head spin.

The relationships surrounding her were definitely an issue for me, as well as for her. I was trying to get out of there. It's hard to give in to your personal desires when those around you pressure you to change the subject. I don't think I'm being a panderer or someone who's doing things in vain, but I won't deny that this is tiring. You can't tell anyone, and people, if they're interested in making you give in on something, pressure you to know; they're not interested; it's all at the expense of their own interests.

In fact, when we agreed or started dating, she was in another relationship that she still couldn't get out of. Deep down, I feel like she's looking for motivation through, well, a relationship with me, where she's not worried about what I'm doing or how I'm doing it. Of course, the perfect remedy is this distancing, but it's not routine and therefore isn't supported. Rather, the tension induced by the abnormality of the situation isn't understood by many. The fact that it's new makes it hard for me to share, mainly because it arouses terrible prejudices.

My boss even wanted to intervene in the matter, one I had, but since he wasn't attending the place where I was, and also because he didn't need it for anything other than his own fears, I ended up making up an excuse in front of his superiors, making him and another woman who was pressuring me look like a bunch of exaggerated people.

In short, the strange thing about the situation lies in, first of all, this distancing, which for me, as from what I'm seeing, is resulting in support for her, and at the same time, the persistent belief that sooner or later she'll end this distancing. However, now that I'm reading this, it doesn't surprise me, because I'm allowing her to live her life, maintaining stability regarding my anxieties, something she didn't even remotely have with her boyfriend. In the long run, this situation is a spur of attraction for her.

I feel like I'll never see her again, and it seems unfair because we didn't experience many things. She simply said she didn't want to talk, despite reaching out after I acted a priori regarding my mental health. These are things she supports, however, it seems that when it comes to causing the damage, things change.

I was willing to rebuild us, without further complications. Indeed, I could have caused more damage, but I was willing to face it. She observed that I was afraid of her reactions, precisely because of what I would do with them. Without a doubt, I went to the services of the institution where she worked, but she had no other choice.

The scandal that girl caused was monumental. I can't pretend to be ironclad all the time. I don't know if she is used to submissive treatment in circumstances like these or if her environment is, but I definitely am not. I don't like being at the mercy of the aftermath, drowning in silence.

Such an act as hers ultimately implied a failure to manage her whims, to a certain extent a definitive abandonment. It's feeling that after what she did and provoked in me, she simply ran away from me, though not for any reason of her own. It's watching our relationship fracture precisely because of her, even though she was the one who had caused it.

We can safely say that she left me. Friends, boyfriends, she ultimately remains indifferent. Indeed, I felt it was unfair. I must admit that as time went by, I began to notice that she wanted to make less of a contribution to the efforts our relationship entailed, amidst her other relationships. Without a doubt, she succumbed to these latter, to the point of even relying on them to make herself less responsible for her role in our relationship. They even intervened.

It must be said, for my part, in that relationship, I was at a level of commitment, more so than accepting it as a zone of tranquility. That commitment consisted of ensuring that the relationship maintained agreements by guiding us through it, respecting the freedom with which we arrived and continuing to be in it. I didn't see beyond that because that wasn't my goal, but that doesn't mean I missed something amidst those details I discarded to focus on that goal.

At this moment, I don't know where she is, or even if it's worth searching for her. After all, if she's not willing to do something about her reactions, if she's not willing to surrender to the increasing magnitude of them, then it makes sense to face a beginning that would end in the same fate, another abandonment. It's curious, but the last time we saw each other, she didn't set a date for the end of this phase between us. However, we would fall back into the same cycle.

I'm not even sorry that I should continue waiting for her, as it would be another way of beginning and ending with the same outcome, assuming she still maintains the same relationships that included the one she had with me. Otherwise, we could indeed observe a level of commitment, as she doesn't retain the possibility of escape with others, and is supported by them as well. However, this would consist of the cessation of relationships with her surroundings, which, given this abandonment, must result in a strengthening of cohesion, also given by protection amid the circumstances experienced between the next-to-last and last time I saw her.

I feel no hope of seeing her again, and it's definitive. It would be a highly probable path to frustration to assume that adverse conditions existed. Despite everything, I feel there's something I'm omitting, I have to admit.

so recently i find out my male best friend of 3years has been ignoring me. I mean at first i thought he needs some time like cause he also has friends but every time we leave school I am who tries to find him and talk to him, I always try reach but not him. I am not trying to make this about myself cause even when we just stand next each other I feel like be does not want to talk to me and he knows about my difficulties with friends. And its not he does not talk to girls at all but its specifically me he is not talking to i feel very betrayed I'm not trying to act like a jealous female friend of some sort i just want to talk to me once again like we did in 8th grade. What should I do?

I sometimes feel like I don't know how to communicate with others in a way that isn't complex for them, and it results in rejection, given that it seems unnecessary. For me, it's necessary, but such constant rejection makes me feel that my need to be this way can't be satisfied. I'm left wondering, "Where is there someone who can receive my discourses?"

Indeed, there must be someone who enjoys such discourses, just as there must be someone who enjoys generating them. When it comes to speaking, I enjoy complexity precisely to discern more between the words and thus have more tools to discern my life and my past. Indeed, there is a message for another; however, there is a part that is being used for myself. Although if I see this, we can say that I am falling into a decentering focus on the individual, and that is certainly just what others complain about. Ultimately, what it's about is that when we address another, the message to be conveyed must be configured according to the other; otherwise, we will be acting, in this case, towards something to which there is no openness.

It has been difficult for me to come to these conclusions. I feel extremely hurt that I don't feel I can handle a psychotherapist who can support me in raising awareness in the social sphere. When I tried, it only resulted in my perceptions being suspect and a search for me to somehow submit to the fact on this issue, even though the element itself was evidence that this was the case. In effect, we're talking about pressure to succumb and thus maintain a vision given by the therapist, or at least on the terms the therapist liked. I can understand why I looked for ways to discredit any authority and consequently dismiss the individual.

My current therapist doesn't allow me to develop ideas. Instead, in the areas where I find refuge, he pleasantly seeks to bring me out in a non-progressive way, simply by breaking in and giving direction, rather than me. I always felt he was a closed-off person, and the conditions under which we had psychotherapy were also restrictive for me, precisely because of the short sessions. This was contrary to what he initially recommended, which was to satisfy my need to feel heard.

In this sense, I weep deeply. I weep for not having a psychotherapist who could help me visualize these elements, or at least someone who would allow me to do so, at least in a way that would make me realize and consequently allow me to develop according to my own means. The issue with people who have sought to develop according to their own means has resulted in setting limits on development, or in other words, in a sad framing. Asking for help or support for myself has simply resulted in mistreatment. With the first psychotherapist I mentioned, I felt that my accusations weren't taken seriously, and those that were were only temporary.

In this case, both from ordinary people and from psychotherapists, I've felt that they can't support me, which in itself has resulted in a kind of divine condemnation given the circumstances in which I was raised and they found who I am, which in itself only generated problems in escalating ways, so much so that they alienated everyone. The most horrifying thing for me is that I didn't choose those circumstances, so such condemnation is unfair, and it's also due to simple chance. It's feeling that you're not welcome for reasons beyond your control, and that no one can do anything about it, and those who say they are only result in an exercise of dominance that, although not sought, goes against my individual spirit, which is what counts when it comes to unfolding in the world and, of course, achieving comfort.

My point is that I feel alone on this path of raising awareness, when I observe that many of you have friends who allow accusations—well, at least that's what they've given me. Perhaps what I've observed is that such accusations are nothing more than the deviation of a certain profile in a given circumstance. This reinforces my idea of ​​being alone, given that I can't find any support for myself. I have to admit it: I feel alone on this path of being in the world, amidst my difficulties. On the other hand, it's difficult to draw a specific conclusion, because the fact that I manage to immerse myself in my feelings, allowing a free development of letters, albeit with apparent directions, although not definitive, speaks in itself of accompaniment on my part through this path of darkness.

Of course, the latter is something that isn't usually valued as standard, at least in this culture eager for socialization and anxious escape from loneliness, so such recognition was an effort on my part to achieve Guir, which in this case is just the right thing to accompany me on another adventure to visualize myself as I am. Reaching me is a difficult task along paths that seem quite strange due to the stretches they pass through, which are also unexpected, the driving force being only a simple pressure on the head and the search for its satisfaction. However, the fact that I appreciate these letters and at the same time unfold them speaks of me as an individual within myself and that I am interested in myself. It is precisely this dyad that allows for the journey and, of course, an indisputable consolidation, because all journeys are based on a clear and circumscribed delimitation within a context, and precisely the latter is what connects with other delimitations. This dyad is what allows for surprise, appreciation, and at the same time effort, it being the retreat from these that allows for this consolidation.

I have gone deep, as some would say; however, I feel this allows me to enter into context with the various situations that occur within me and that allow me to anchor myself to this journey. Sensations definitely go beyond being elements that define a particular social situation, given that they are rooted in the elements captured. Rather, they are a signal toward what we need to consolidate and that is in line with the moment because, amidst the circumstances they involve, they result in a satisfaction that makes a difference and, consequently, a change in me, in the way I experience them.

This brings me back to the doctor's experience, where the very thing we're talking about is sensations. Indeed, when communicating them, it is advisable to describe them, but based on categories that can allow the professional to concretely interpret what is happening in our body. Sensations themselves do not follow a universal format; it is advisable to use formats that are consistent with the reference and can be understood by others, because otherwise, we can fall into unconscious dismissals on the part of others and consequently carry out actions that are quite disconnected from the situation to which they refer. However, to actually achieve this, I first had to endure being told that I don't know how to express what I feel, and that the conversation was with a third party. Therefore, the character, besides being a busybody, also had the right words for every sensation, which makes him narcissistic. This is one of the things that makes him feel unwelcome in a home, to the point of abandoning the characters.

I undoubtedly learned a valuable lesson about communicating with doctors and others, but with that character, I also learned that I held back my way of expressing myself, and that because it wasn't understandable to him, it was censored. This led to my not knowing how to express myself when it came to something I didn't know how to put into words, or the fear of being considered as such. In itself, this speaks to an environment that doesn't prevent me from approaching the world beyond what they already know.

What's a good advice when it comes to work?

I am so damn sick of my grandma being a total bitch 24/7 all the time complaining about the things I do when I stay out of her way and just lay low but no matter what its always my fault she can never ever have any blame like tonight I gave the cats a little bit of hot dog so they wouldnt be rushing out the door which also makes her mad and she got mad that I gave them some and my grandpa just sat there even though she buys them for him and I know he doesnt care like she does. Literally can never have a good day in this unwelcoming family like if Im at my parents they also complain about what I do if Im at my grandparents I get complained at here. I remember I had a bad break down ran away from home and that was the first time in like years I heard my grandma say she loved me. Jokes about my depression and says how I will be fine when I was unmedicated last year and had that bad break down. Whatever man shes in her 60s or something so shes probably just feeling old age or whatever. God I just wish my family would communicate properly without sulking/yelling/telling each other they are ungrateful because then I wouldnt feel the need to go online and complain about them and the actions

I’m done with my life. The academic session began in April, and my exams are scheduled for the end of January. Right now, August is already halfway over—it’s the 20th today—and I feel like I’ve fallen far behind. Most of my classmates are ahead of me, while I struggle to understand anything in class. It feels as if I’ve been dropped into a higher grade where I don’t belong. Everything seems beyond my grasp.

It stings to see my peers following along with ease while I just sit there, staring at the blackboard in confusion. I was never like this before. For the first time in my life, I feel lost in class. This is 10th grade, and I feel trapped, unable to move forward, constantly pulled away by distractions.

My laptop, which should be helping me study, has become my biggest enemy. Social media, random motivational YouTube videos, anime content, Instagram scrolling, venting to strangers online for attention, even sleeping after school—these habits are dragging me down. I thought my relationship with a classmate was a distraction too, so I distanced myself from her. But even after cutting off contact, nothing changed. I can’t blame her anymore—this is my own battle.

I barely scraped through the first unit tests with poor grades, cramming the night before exams. If I’m honest, I haven’t properly finished a single chapter to the point where I could confidently answer questions from it. I’m still procrastinating every day. On top of that, I struggle with the habit of watching porn, which only makes me feel weaker and more paralyzed.

I know what’s happening to me, but I don’t act on it. It feels like I’m waiting for some dramatic “rock bottom” moment—like in movies where the main character suddenly rises to the top after hitting their lowest point. But in real life, that moment never comes. Time just keeps slipping away.

Part of me dreams of becoming the top student in class, but right now it feels more like a fantasy than a real possibility. Even if I somehow worked hard, gave my all, and fought through every distraction, I know people wouldn’t see the effort behind it. They’d assume I succeeded easily, because I’ve always been considered a “good student.” That’s why I sometimes feel the need to tell my classmates about my struggles, as if my poor marks in the first unit test are proof of where I really stand.

But the truth is, I’m still waiting for something outside of me to change my situation, even though I know nothing magical is going to happen. My parents keep scolding me and comparing me to others, which only makes me feel worse. I want to rise to the top of the class, but right now, it feels impossible.

Sabotage eh? Was planned all along? Don't complain if my work is wrong what I was taught wrong all along?

I express that I feel tearful. Why is there no efficient psychotherapy service in my country? I feel extremely hurt. Friends, it's impossible that not a single one of the psychotherapists I turned to was able to help me with my problems; instead, I had to do everything on my own. The very symptoms I was carrying kept returning, and no one cared. These enormous individuals, narcissists, con artists, weren't concerned about doing their job. There's nothing more unpleasant than going to a professional and having them come up with a series of inefficiencies, make you believe they're correct, have the good fortune to prolong therapy as long as they want, and on top of that, offer you a return.

It's horrible to feel that none of those therapists were concerned about doing their job, none. In fact, I ended up using one of these individuals to get them to say I'm fine and thus get rid of the people who were on my nerves, insisting that I was unstable or something like that. How is it possible that this therapist didn't realize I was more focused on using it for that than anything else? It was all based on a sad complacency: completing psychotherapy so they'd leave me alone. On top of that, the surrounding psychotherapists were determined to keep me in therapy, which felt, as you can see from my previous words, like a prison I couldn't escape. I had to find excuses to get out of the psychotherapies I was undergoing, which weren't simple, but precise. It's horrible to feel that something that should be healing turns out to be exactly the opposite, in some ways, and not transparent at all. And in this spirit, the psychotherapists, at least in my country, dared to express that I should go to one. This outrages me and made me feel like I was facing a group that only sought to maintain a position of power over me, even at the expense of my health. It's appalling, and it's something that others supported, especially my father, who is a doctor and who sought such status.

It's incredible, in general terms, how the health sector has based its discourse no longer on being a health producer but, quite the opposite, on an entity that simply seeks social dominance. How can we not think that these entities serve an international entity that could very well serve others? My father insisted that I give in to therapy at all costs. In other words, even in this environment I'm in, they cared about the conditions I was in and how well they were leading me to define myself as a patient as something else. It's like feeling the environment pressuring me to go to psychotherapy, and at the same time, the therapist forcing me to go, against my will, inducing changes that don't favor my development. For me, these psychotherapies became simple conversion therapies, simply a way to be submissive to the environment. Perhaps this issue, from what I'm seeing, isn't as unusual as I thought. This makes me understand why cinema is killing off psychotherapists these days, and because it's international in scope, this problem is going beyond the borders of my country.

How disappointing to be told about a service that can help you with your problems, and it's, in fact, urgent, and you find yourself facing this. The worst part of the situation is that psychotherapists and those around you accuse you, for appearing frustrated, of not being cooperative with the process, that is, of not showing yourself as they think you should. So, what's happening to them? Does the patient have to meet expectations of what's expected from the therapeutic work or be a product of the therapeutic work? Frankly, I think it's the latter. It's incredible how far such a delicate process has been taken, such as assessment, perhaps more so than surgery. I'm truly shocked. The most horrible thing is that no one talks about this at all, although I've seen some insights into it, but the problem is that it's not done in my country. This guild is being blindly admired, like many other guilds, which implies or only encourages abuse by professionals, which is in effect an attitude completely unprofessional. I can only say that my country, under these conditions and assuming there is no support, is going to go bankrupt, but by the professionals themselves, the issue no longer even being about political conditions, and it makes me feel fearful of my stay on this earth.

It's incredible, but instead of being scared of the government, I'm scared precisely for those who are not the government. I have often observed that the population uses this entity as an excuse to escape their responsibilities, pointing to their own impulsiveness turned into reality in entities that belong to the government. At this point, it makes one wonder if it's really worthwhile to study the government, when in reality should be about the people themselves. It's said that the government provides insecurity, however, I see that the entities that produce it are the population itself, and in the form of opaque crime, since professional abuse is one form of it. It's impressive how far we've come in my country, as a people, these days. This is definitely not what I expected to find when I left my family. It's practically becoming the same constitution as theirs, that is, a defense of the roles obtained through hard work and the consequent ability to achieve a leading discourse through words specific to the domain. With professionals, this is translating into a simply leading discourse and the use of certain technical terms, and this is what the people are defending, without questioning it, which marks it as inactive.

It's appalling that this has happened to psychotherapists, who are the primary ones who should exercise essential caution with every word dictated, without exception, because every word counts. This, in turn, requires constant review of the work done, given the consequences each practice leaves behind, something I, in fact, never experienced with any of the psychotherapists. My country is becoming a place where, as a result of the great instability that leads to a desperate search for solutions, there are leaders who seek to dominate people within a certain realm, thus achieving, as with my family, an absolute disrespect for the independent spirit, descending into their denigration in such realms regarding what leads to such a modus operandi, always seeking a suggestion. Indeed, in the environment I live in, identity integrity is a superficial element and worthy of being changed by the environment, according to the circumstances. I never imagined things were this serious.

Indeed, if I mention anything like this to those around me, they won't pay attention to a single word I say. They'll pick up on it, but it will be as if I'd never said anything, just like what happened in my family. I can now understand why I've navigated this situation with great astuteness, something that has certainly not been the case for many people in my country. It's ironic, but having ties to a wounded, hegemonic family has its advantages when it comes to experiencing conditions of instability—of course, when you begin to visualize the elements that constituted it.

I had this friend of mine, she was my first friend, we were together all the way from when we were in diapers till high school ended and then after she went abroad for university we drifted apart. Our relationship always felt toxic to me because I always felt like she didn’t place much importance to me, she would tell me that she won’t be able to talk to me before exams but would speak with everyone else, she would not tell me crucial stuffs like when would she leave or where she got admitted but everyone else would know ( I did ask her btw but I didn’t get any answer ). Weirdest thing is after she came back last time she looked for me she was probably confused why I was ignoring her as my other friends told me she asked questions about me to them.

Weirder is that I feel extremely guilty, I feel like what if we could go back to how it was before even though I know it probably won’t be good for me or her. So even though I’m scared out of my mind I am praying hoping that she atleast strikes up a conversation with me for once, she asks me about it, she questions me about what happened.

My other close friends and my family also know and they also say that our relationship wasn’t okay, it was not healthy but I don’t know why I am being like this.

This is more like a health question/vent. This is more on the sickness bit and not my age. Anyways, I suffer eczema and have cat allergies that came recently at 13. I had eczema since I was 2, and it has been bumming me out more at 13. The reason is because I always see folks like models with such glossy and pretty skin, with no acne, and while cutting cashew nuts did get rid of my acne (which is good). This is stuff like, where, I feel bad that I have eczema. I now hate even more how my skin flakes, how it makes me feel old, how it makes my lips look whitish pink than the regular lip pink, and how much it looks bad and spooks my dad even when he's seen it for years, and it sucks. I'm 13, and I know insecurity is what I should be feeling at this age about my appearance, but I just wish I was better than this since most girls in my class have clear skin.

And then I got a random cat allergy when I was in Malaysia when I rubbed a chubby cat, and then I rubbed my eye and it swelled so much. And then at my relative's house the same happened but not as bad. Now I fear I may get asthma because eczema, allergies and asthma are all part of the atopic triad. My maternal grandma has it, she's 64, and somehow I don't see her much with an inhaler and she's more chill with cats but her leg skin is dry af. I fear dermatologists because my paternal grandpa was both a dermatologist and anesthesiologist back in the 70s, and the pressures made him so rude and angry to patients, his family, senior doctors, and his own siblings too.

And I'm scared if I will get judged for my skin, for how gross and flaky and ugly it is. By the doctors. And I'm afraid if I'll never live like a regular human again if I ever get diagnosed with asthma.

I sometimes just wanna desperately eat all the sweet, sugary junk food I can if I ever will, just because if at least I die from asthma, at least it's sugary and sweet, like a cute filter with bears and puppies.

I feel I can never own a fluffy animal like a cat because of allergies and no cat is truly hypoallergenic, and lizards, frogs, fishes and snakes feel so emotionally distant they'll only see me as their food giver and not their parent who wants to love them but can't because they lack that emotional bit

Just, anyone with asthma or eczema wanna tell me what dermatologist visits are like (last time I went I was 2 and I can't remember), how you guys manage, what it was like when you got diagnosed, and I just wanna know if you can ever own a fluffy animal like a cat without wheezing or swelling.

they're actually so horrific. I've been in real ones and have developed PTSD. and then I get made fun of. I cant control it. I cant get out of it. I hate it so bad.