Life Stories and Everyday Drama

I've been struggling with my mental health for a long time and despite this I've always tried to keep the most positive outlook I could, but recently I've felt as if that wasn't possible. I've always been weird and avoidant of people due to paranoia, anxiety, OCD, autism symptoms and emotional inconsistency which has made it difficult to maintain relationships. Suffice to say, I've gotten along with people to the point that I could show them an empty side of myself that didn't care whether he was hurt or not, but I feel like now that's the only part of me who can function with others. I like that part of me, and I feel like I'm okay as long as I trust him to take care of things, but I don't know how I'm supposed to live my own life.

I've always had a lot of things that I'd been passionate about but those things like drawing, watching anime, learning languages, learning history and pretty much everything except for math doesn't really have a place in my life anymore since I've started college. I can still enjoy my hobbies but I feel like as a 19 year old male, watching trashy shoujo anime and liking moe stuff is kinda weird. Having obsessions feels like something to be ashamed of as well and every time I get into something I feel like I'm always going to be stereotyped for it. Apart from that, my fascinations with dark things like gore and pain are obviously things I'll have to keep hidden. I've basically abandoned the notion of someone who'd be able to save me or be there for me because I know I just get too attached and mess things up in relationships like that.

I always had the notion that everyone else was in the wrong for making me feel like I had to hide, but now I think I'm at the point where I'm accepting that I don't belong anywhere. I don't want to change and I don't want to die but I can't live in society the way it is being the way I am. I used to want to change the world, but now I feel like someone like me, with all my issues would just make it worse.

Living like this, I feel like I'm slowly disappearing and like I'm giving in. In some ways it feels like losing the parts of myself that make me who I am is just a matter of course, it doesn't matter to me anymore because it's something I should have accepted a long time ago, but if I could I wish I didn't have to change to live.

so I'm stuck in this weird thing where I'm like "OMG UR PROBABLY JUST CONFUSED ABT BEING BI UR NOT ACC" and "OMG IM BI I DONT WANT TO BE" and I keep going back and forth so I'm not even sure if this is about weather I am or not its me accepting it. I'm only 15 so if it doesn't matter and its not that important, but I think maybe focusing on this is like a coping stratagey bc obviously like every other teen I'm deppressed. I'm on anti depressants but we have to keep upping the doses so whenever they sorta get lower I just don't do... anything. I don't care about eating or anything. I just scroll on my phone till the day is over and hope tomorrow is better. anyways I've kinda gone of topic but ehhhh ig it doesn't matter. so if I'm gonna explain why I think I'm bi. Im like a super agreeable person, so when I was like in sixth grade and I started to get a crush on a girl in my grade, (and I didn't even know gay people existed) I just ignored it bc I was like "wth this isn't even a real thing boys date girls and girls date boys" but then I learned that u could date whoever u want to and I was like "ok cool" and at the time I didn't like connect the dots in my head. late 6th grade I remember the girl I was sorta crushing on was like going around saying to all the girls "ur pretty ur pretty" I forget why but when she got to me she said "ur super pretty"(I'm not but it was sweet of her lol) and I got butterflies and stuff. like I lit remember it still and I'm in highschool now DX. and so after that I started like exploring more Abt who I was and stuff I was probably too young to be doing that and I might still be but Idc. eventually I settled on me most likely being pan/bi (but I don't think pan anymore plus ppl make fun of u and I don't find the specific label too important I just need to know if I'm tricking myself in liking girls) and so I told my family and friends and OMG IT WAS SO BAD so one of my friends sent me barfing emojis for like three days, the other had no comment(I'm honestly thankful for just that), and the other other didn't even hear it from me she heard it like a week later and just agreed with the one who sent the barfing emojis bc she was low-key maipulative and just said it to get barf girl to feel like good idk. she later came out as bi herself but ofc everyone got over their homophobia by then......... so in middle school me and that girl (M) started like fake dating? like she called in a platonic marriage and we exchanged rings and all that middle school stuff💀. I remember we held hands in the hallway, kissed each other on the head and hand, and called each other pet names and at some point she told me that she acc sorta liked me but we never acc dated. I honestly felt like we were dating in my mind even if I pretended it was just friends. oh also M was bi. so I eventually told my parents that I was bi and um I'm living in a Christian household and I'm a Christian even though I'm bi bc if I'm honest I think the verses talking about homosexuality are mistranslated and don't apply to today. plus, there wasn't even a word for homosexual in that time (I don't think correct me if I'm wrong this is from a few quick Google searches lol) so my parents were like not kicking me out mad or even mad, they just got, uncomfortable. they said stuff like "we would never hate someone for something like that, but we don't exactly agree with it..." and I just hated feeling so awkward with them. we have always been close and after time had passed and my style had changed and I told my friends I wasn't bi anymore ig things got back to normal and now I'm terrified of messing everything up again. whenever my deppression lifts slightly and I start feeling normal again, I start to think Abt dating and I think of kissing a girl and all those videos I watch of christians say "OH NONO NO HOMO" come back and so I kinda shove it down. I'm pretty almost 1000000% sure I'm not a lesbian, but I feel like I'm not straight either. uhg and I keep going back and forth from beleiveing I'm bi to just being like "am I???? what if I'm faking?" but that might just be in my head.... anywaysssss idrk what else to say if u got this far thx for reading and pls let me know ur opinion Abt anything like weather or not u think I'm bi or smthnnn

Pls read this.

It's now 2026. I'm gonna be 14 in February. I fucking hate this. The future, it's too unpredictable! Like, I can survive. I’m weird if I do my own thing. Who notices the cleaners or waitresses or maids? I’m gonna be okay because no one can hurt me, because they don’t notice me. Best thing I can also do is not go to college either, most successful people dropped out and went their own paths. I’m going my own path, just a slower one, of giving up the risky waters. No one swims in Mangalore seas, those who do are idiots, just wanting to play with their own life. Who even wants to learn about marine life, or history? Seriously, only history you learn from is this kind and how likable you are. I should care what others think, my dad’s wrong to say no to that. Who’d wanna learn about Vietnam or Thailand or India, most them are anyways mean, rude and like polluting the ground. Those who do doctorates for literal fish, to others, it’d be weird. I won’t be word nor trendy, just nothing. It’s easier than being both lanes, anyways. Most kids after realizing they can never be a cool kid from a weird kid soon chose the beige route, at least that’s still a color. You said I’m allowed to be a nobody, I can live with that forever, considering I already ate up 7 years. It’s not judgement, it’s grace on my part, just like giving up. I’m allowed to just be a no one. I can endure, people can sit with that. They don’t sing, “I’m a survivor, I’m not gonna give up” for no reason! I can manage. It ain’t even that bad. Humans are resistible. I can live with being nothing to others, be in routine. Unshakable but predictable routine. Many people live like that. You may say I’m 13, but trust me, I can be smart like that. I just need to remove my curiosity, that intrusive aspect of me to come out of my safe space and be hurt. Don’t go to college, wake up, pass school, form no friendships, eat, sleep, bathe, relieve myself, work in some small job till I finish whatever mortgage and rent I have until I’m 64, so it all over again from 18-64, assuming my work life lasts that long.

See! People are a liability! I can be me to me only! People can live long fulfilling less without these burdens. People really are hell, Sartre was right. I can be rigid, have my own fun life and be with no one, they’re worthless anyways. They all judge, so why bother looking even for one person if it doesn’t exist? You literally said, “Humans don’t need applause, but we do need some meaning. Meaning doesn’t have to come from people, but it has to come from somewhere. Fish, oceans, history, art, dolls, stories. Those are not liabilities. They are anchors.” I’ve had them all my life. I can live with them, make them my friends, since people are a waste. I may be able to survive this year, but I can thrive the rest by this routine! You said people are optional, so why bother with any kind of relationship? Most successful people don’t even have sustainable relationships with people! I can make with next year! I’m 13, I can deal with it. How am I even wrong to say people are hell? You said I’m allowed to not like people, so that means I can handle no one. They all suck anyways. If I want someone as a friend, it won’t matter because it won’t last. I just know it. It’ll be that way. I won’t be surprised by good person who stays because they don’t exist. That’s in movies only where someone is cool like that. Again, pure fiction. No matter how I act, nice or mean or quiet, I’m a nobody to them. It won’t last and it won’t matter. I hate seeing friend groups because they feel stupid. I’m a proud incel girl. I can be a fucking incel, I'm 13.5, it's a good fucking title for me.

See? People are a risk. I can live like an introvert. Work, eat, sleep 7 hours, watch some favorite stuff, draw, repeat. It’s a life many adults do anyways for a while. Look what traveling did to me, it made me sick. Only bad thing now is I’m going to a new home in a few months, which I have to convince my parents somehow I should stay here, my original home. If some real kids can convince their parents not to divorce, I can convince them to not leave and just have them you know, stay and enjoy their investment of the house, even though they spent money on it. I’m smart for saying moving is bad. The kids there will look at me weird, and even if I’m in the same school, I don’t care. New big neighborhood men’ means it’s a social death sentence for me. I’m allowed to stay at home. My original home is safe. You said I CAN not make any friends, so that means I CAN not seek out anyone unless it’s a doctor or anything, but driving, work people, friends, restaurant workers, nope. I’m not gonna drive, I’m not gonna go to college, or pursue any of my interests. Just be a cashier, it’s low stakes and nobody cares for me. Good. Good life. Then I can go home, draw, bathe, pay rent, eat dinner, and sleep. Be Yoshikage Kira, minus the murder aspect. Just have a quiet life and be the background guy forever. It’s easier. That’s my quest for stillness. I may want friends, but since life hasn’t given me any despite me changing, I just simply can’t get them, I’ll give that up and just study, just pass exams, somehow manage 9th grade in IGCSE from CBSE, somehow manage without my original tuition teacher, and just draw and watch stuff and walk in my house because it’s a villa, and even though it’s a big neighborhood, no. I don’t deserve to exist as myself, so I’ll just be the nobody’s of the world. I was nice, my classmates didn’t notice, I was mean, still. Quiet, still didn’t notice. I’d rather just leave at this point. Not life, but just being a person in society, just a person in outskirt city. I hate it when I see people smiling with friends because I know the truth, it’s not gonna last. Since nothing lasts, nothing matters. I’m 13 going to 9th in a bit, so this matters. The last thing to actually matter. Everything matters because we as humans have such short lives, despite everything being temporary. I’m 13, and in the next 10 years, I’ll live in the outskirts. I’ve already lived in the outskirts of school long enough, I’m used to it.

I don’t matter. No one liked me no matter how I acted. I just concluded I can be a wallflower forever. I’ve lived as one anyways long enough to get used to it being permanent. I’m a crazy diamond like Syd Barrett, eventually his reassignment was the reason his band succeeded. Only thing is at least they remembered Syd, who’d remember me and me where I was? My family won’t matter because when you’re an adult, you leave them behind. It’s what everyone does, no matter what dad says about “leaving if your job is also far away, but otherwise you can stay with them”. No. Just let me be still. Forever. I’ve died inside before I even got to see anything good, because it doesn’t exist. Now that we’re moving in a few months, it’s not a new leaf, it’s a new wasteland. A new bad land unless I stay behind in my home, which is 35 minutes away from the new place. Imagine the new kids there who are also disgusting monsters. They’ll only reject me because I know the truth, change is bad. Even before a child says hi to me, I need to role with an iron fist and fight them back with poisonous words, or push them if I have to. I don’t know, I’m scared of these freaks. My subconscious may want some peace, but we got to think logically about this. I’ve survived 7 years, I can survive the next of life. I’m not gonna stack now because I’m on a trip and I don’t see much kids unless they’re coming from school, which even then it disgusts me seeing them laughing together because they think it’s a good time that lasts for only 3 days.

My stupid subconscious may crave hope for one friend now that it’s a neighborhood, but I don’t like it. It’s proven wrong many times with horrid “SMALL TALK”, so I don’t believe it. I wish I had one person who would just leave me alone in this thought, and they’d agree. Too bad they’re not real. The Saya to me, the Fuminori. I wish I had a person who’d share this vision with me, and love me for thinking the same. They’d love me for hating this pathetic world, because they do too. I don’t care if it’s not healthy, if it isn’t, what’s the point of “health”? Humans are shits anyways. Why should I care if I want something better if it doesn’t exist? It’s like wanting a unicorn, it’s not real. Why search someone so fucking fake? My stupid self is that, stupid for wanting better, for believing they exist, for wanting to have another go and thinking that maybe moving a good idea. I’m tougher for saying it isn’t and being rigid. It’s immature of me to maybe look out for more, when there isn’t.

Too bad now in a few days I'm gonna go to a dumb dance class I only said yes to from mom is to please her. I don't believe I'm a good dancer, even fi the teacher said to mom I did an "advanced dance lesson" better than beginners. That's a fucking lie! I don't believe you because I don't believe myself! Those kids didn't laugh to seem respectful, they aren't being honest, they're trying to fake niceness. Just like fucking life. Where the pros treat the new guy with pity, I don't need fucking pity, I want people to berate me because that's honesty to me! And when someone hates the world and wants to burn it as much as I do, I'd be more than friends, because we share the same true vision of the "Earth". Too bad school itself is gonna start day after tomorrow, because guess what, there's the fucking rigged system! The ruler, the principal, may claim we are a united body, but we're all divided into cliques and crews, fuck her. I hope she suffers a painful death with HIV. Fuck the future, fuck the adults, and fuck anyone who isn't a Saya! Fuck!

I'm 21 and i lived a reverently hard life with an alcoholic father and drug addict mother, life wasn't easy but my older sister made it work. When I was 12 my oldest sister hung herself and my best friend shot herself 2 months later. i know death, and death knows me too. I've done all stages and moved past my emotions. but a few months ago, an 17 year old girl who i knew, lived with, helped her father raise her and love her was hit by a car at 5 in the morning because she rode her bike with no lights or reflectors. for a while i told her to use a light. i couldn't get her off the streets. i tried so so so fucking hard but i couldn't. so i showed her how to survive the streets. who to trust, who too watch for, what to watch for, how to watch your back without looking suspicious. she loved boxing, so me and her would practice for hours in the driveway leaving bruises on each other and laughing. right before she died i moved away 2 hours away from my home, my people, my village, everything i knew to move in with my boyfriend as i wanted out from under my father and in a life of my own. but she died. that 2 hour drive felt like 2000 years. everyone says i spoke a beautiful speech at her funeral but i barely remember it. i just remember her being so cold, telling her ill see her again one day and crying into her fathers chest [he's my uncle just not blood uncle] i came back with my boyfriend and helped move his family into a new home, i started a new job and have been struggling so so much. me and my boyfriend went through a period where we were fighting a lot. the moment things were getting better i found out he was on a fetish app talking to multiple girls and sending dick picks. he lied to my face and act like he didn't know i knew. things have finally started moving past that. but I'm stuck. i want my riley back, my fighter, my smoke buddy, my soul snatcher, my hot headed, spicy beautiful little girl back... i was only 4 years older then her but i felt like her mother. i loved her like i was her mother. i showered her when she was depressed and couldn't. i hand feed her right after and brushed her hair, dressed her and took her out. i want those days. id take seeing her severely depressed then in that casket because at least with one she's alive even if its barely. I almost got fired and on the edge of being fired. i feel like I'm not enough. i wasn't enough for my sister and best friend. i wasn't enough to keep her alive and smarter with her decisions, i wasn't enough to have him not cheat on me. I'm not enough to do good at work. I'm not enough. I'm never enough. I'm always too much or never enough. how can i move past something that turned my whole world upside down and across the galaxy. I'm so tired. and not in a "i wanna go to sleep" way but in a "see them all once again for eternity" kind of way. what do i do.......

I hate my life so fucking much.

For the last 4 months I have been feeling so depressed, numb and alone and every night I sittl in my bed thinking to myself what has my life come to and I in the last 3-4 months I have had at least 2 mental breakdown a week ( that isn't me trying to flex in any way ) and cryed multiple times some times to the point I can't breathe or I fall asleep. This has oveousley been since I started college last September and my mental health just went down hill as I wasn't and still am not going the right support at college for my mental health and just over all my other needs That are clearly stated in my EHCP . The only thing I actually asked for and got was a laptop which I have load till June and the only sort of help I get is on a Thursday and Friday form an member of staff . when I should have someone on a Wednesday which again I did. But sadly it only lasted till the October half term as they gave that person to someone else and lefft me with no one and the worst thing about this hole situation is the or staff members of the support system at the college have been lieing to the support person I have on a Thursday and Friday by saying that I have had help in my lesson when that particular starf members wasn't with me and that is all day every Wednesday. I know it's not there fault or mine but surely they know what students need help. I must admit that every Wednesday when I get home from college I end up helping my mum with jobs then I go up to my room and sit on my phone untill it's time for dinner then I do other jobs around the house then got back up to my room and sit on my phone until it's time for me to go to bed. But I don't full asleep straight away or at all as I'm normally up until about 1-2:00in the morning as I end up having more than one panic attack or a meltdown because I'm so overwhelmed or I will cry myself to sleep..

side note the reason I have an EHCP is because I have Adhd.

and as some of you may know 5days before Christmas I got the devastating news that my nan that live in Weymouth sadly passed away and it didn't hit me hard at first but it sertenly has now and I'm feeling so incredibly numb, depressed and lost. and I just can't amagen how I will get through this year and the coming day as we all find out when her funeral is going to be and how I will cope when I'm at her funeral or when I'm back at college.

not my typical post this is a horror but no option for horror

this is chapwr one lmk what u guys think

Chapter One — The Hollow Tree

I ran but she caught me when the moon slipped behind the clouds and the world went silent.

Her grip closed around my ankle with a strength that belonged to graves and forgotten things. I fell hard, the breath knocked from my lungs, my palms sinking into the cold mulch of the forest floor. Dead leaves clung to my skin like the hands of the unburied, and for one hopeless moment I imagined that I, too, was sinking—downward—into the dark earth they all returned to.

A low hum trembled through the soil. A voice without words. A summons.

I twisted to look behind me.

I should not have.

She emerged from the dark like a memory that should have died centuries ago—long limbs bending in wrong directions, bones clicking against each other like rosary beads in restless hands. Her hair, long and dripping, veiled most of her face, though the smallest sliver of a grin stretched beneath it, white as moonlit marble and sharp as split stone.

The forest held its breath.

Even the wind dared not speak.

“Please,” I whispered, though my voice felt like it belonged to someone already fading.

Her head tilted. Not with mercy—no creature of mercy would be found in this place—but with recognition. As though she had been waiting, patient and starving, for the moment I would return.

The stories had warned me. My grandmother’s voice echoed, faint and trembling, from the deepest corners of childhood: Do not run from the Hollow Woman. She will come faster. Do not speak to her. She will hear you for a century. Do not look back. She is always closer than you think.

Yet I had done all three.

Her fingers tightened, cold as river stones, and she dragged me across the earth toward the hollow tree ahead—a towering corpse of a once-mighty oak, its trunk split open by some ancient and merciless storm. The gap gaped like a mouth, the inside impossibly dark, impossibly deep, as though it tunneled straight into the underworld.

The closer we drew, the more the forest changed. The trees bowed inward, crooked like mourners at a funeral. A smell seeped from the hollow—wet soil, rotting bark, and beneath it something sweet, like overripe fruit left too long in the sun.

“No,” I gasped, clawing at the ground. My nails scraped through moss and root, catching on stones slick with dew. My body obeyed terror’s instinct, but my mind was trapped in the slow, creeping dread that had haunted me since I first heard her voice two nights ago.

It had come with the storm.

I had been lying in my grandmother’s abandoned house—our ancestral ruin—when the lightning split the sky and the walls groaned like a living thing. A whisper curled through the cracks in the floorboards, thin as winter breath: Come back to me.

I thought it was grief. Or loneliness. Or the house settling around its last inhabitant.

But then the whisper came again.

And again.

And last night, when the moon was whole and bright, I saw her standing beneath the oak tree at the edge of the forest, her shadow stretching longer than her body should allow.

She had been waiting.

“Not yet,” I murmured, desperate, choking on soil as I fought against her grasp. “Please—not yet.”

For the first time, she paused.

Her grip, though unyielding, stilled. Slowly, achingly slowly, her face lifted, and beneath the curtain of her tangled hair I saw the hollow where her eyes should have been—deep, shadowed pits that seemed to draw in the light around them.

When she spoke, it was not with a voice but with a sound like roots cracking beneath frozen ground.

“You left me.”

My heart stuttered. A coldness spread through my chest, not the fear she inflicted but something older, deeper, something that knew her.

Because I had left her.

I didn’t understand why or how—but the moment she spoke, the truth whispered beneath my memory like something long buried scratching at the coffin lid.

“I don’t remember,” I whispered, and my own words tasted wrong, as if they were stolen from someone else’s mouth.

She dragged me another inch toward the hollow tree.

The moon finally slipped from behind the clouds then, its pale, shivering light spilling across us. For a moment—just a moment—she stopped moving. Her body stiffened. Her smile dropped into a grim line carved of stone.

The moonlight touched her skin, and she recoiled as though burned.

I felt her grip loosen.

Only a little.

Only enough.

With a cry torn raw from my throat, I twisted sharply, kicking with all the panic of a creature half-dead and unwilling to finish the job. My heel struck something soft—her face, perhaps—and her grip faltered.

I scrambled backward, breath ragged, legs shaking so violently they barely obeyed me. She hissed, a sound like a dying wind through hollow places.

But she did not lunge.

She watched.

The moonlight kept her rooted.

I staggered to my feet. Pain lanced up my knee. Blood soaked into my sock. Yet I ran—not with hope, but with the terror of someone who knows the night is far from over.

Behind me, her voice seeped through the trees like mist:

“When the moon dies, you are mine again.”

And above the forest canopy, the clouds thickened—slowly smothering the light that protected me.

Well, here I am again. This time I will talk about what happened to me a few years ago. I have three daughters, 17-year-old triplets. They are somewhat rebellious and rough, but they are also very well-mannered, respectful, and kind girls. Those who read my previous story already know what happened with the mother of my daughters.

But for those who haven’t read it, I kindly invite you to read the previous story so you can have context about my situation.

What happened is that after my daughters learned about my past and what happened between their mother and me, they noticed my loneliness, since I have always lived to raise them with affection and love, educating them and guiding them to always be better. Honestly, I was fine with how things were, but my daughters decided to sign me up on a dating site, and then they sent me on several blind dates. The truth is, it didn’t go very well… because I was still dealing with the trauma from my ex-partner, Ana.

The first date was with a woman around 32 years old, about my age. At first, we talked nicely; she was polite and everything. But the problem came up when the topic of women arose, because she was extremely sexist and very attached to that mindset. I became serious, because my daughters are actually taller and stronger than me. They go to the gym: the oldest does boxing, the middle one practices archery, and the youngest practices kung fu. When this woman asked me about my daughters, I told her everything without shame, because I am proud of them. She became aggressive and started yelling at me, asking how someone like me could allow my daughters to practice “men’s sports.” I got angry, because they can throw hate at me and curse me if they want, but if they mess with my daughters, I will never allow it. So I politely stood up, told her about her flaws and her lack of respect for others, paid for my meal, and left the place.

After that, my daughters sent me on another blind date. This time it was with a divorced woman who, from the very first second, seemed kind, respectful, and sincere. But at one point she asked me if I drank alcohol or smoked. I honestly have never drunk even a drop of alcohol, nor have I ever smoked, because I don’t like it. Even my daughters don’t drink or smoke. I kindly told the woman that I didn’t, and she looked at me seriously and started drinking and smoking. After a while, she stopped talking to me because she considered me boring and not adventurous.

Honestly, I have been the father of three girls since I was 15 years old. I raised them completely on my own; I worked alone and never had the support of my family or my parents. I kindly told her, “Excuse me, miss, I am a father of three. I dedicate my life to raising them, educating them, spending time with them, and helping them with everything. If you are a party-loving woman who enjoys parties, alcohol, and smoking… and you have also made it clear that you don’t like children, I’m sorry, but I’m leaving. I will pay my part of the dinner. Have a nice night, miss.” I paid the waiter and left.

My daughters were always excited, waiting to know whether the date worked or not. Every time I said no, they got a little frustrated, but it passed, because I always told them what had happened. So they decided to keep sending me on blind dates, but it was terrible.

None of the women were my type, and many things happened. Once, a woman threw dessert in my face because she didn’t like me for being a dedicated father. Another time, a single mother slapped me because she didn’t like my hair color. Another was a feminist, but one of those who are very violent, and I am extremely respectful, since I have three daughters and even act as a homemaker. And so night after night of blind dates passed, and I never found a partner.

My daughters gave up for now, but I always cheer them up, because I am passionate about cooking and I always cook and prepare the food they like. That is life to me, and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, because seeing that smile of joy on my daughters’ faces gives me the strength to always keep moving forward.

i can't believe another year has come and gone, and here i am, 54 years old, sitting back and reflecting on the events of the past year. it's been a ride full of ups and downs, hasn't it? sometimes it feels like time just slips through my fingers, like sand in an hourglass. but guess what? i survived another one, and I have my health, my family, and somehow the world feels new again. seriously though, how good is it to be surrounded by your loved ones on new year's eve, right? we were all huddled up in the living room, telling stories and laughing like a pack of hyenas. you know those moments when you're just so happy you could burst? that's what it was like. everyone was in high spirits, and looking around, i couldn't help but feel incredibly blessed. and all of them were healthy, thank God! if i'm being honest, it's challenging at times not to worry about the future. there seems to be so much uncertainty, especially with everything happening around the world. you watch the news, and it's hard not to digest all the negativity that gets thrown at you. how many times have you caught yourself thinking, "what's next?" but then i remember the quote from that one song, "life's what you make it," and i think, if i focus on the positive, maybe, just maybe, things will turn out alright. 🙂 i'm sure you can relate. sure, i've got my fair share of regrets and wish i could hit rewind on a few decisions, but that's life, isn't it? you live and you learn. i remember my parents always saying, "don't sweat the small stuff," and i'm really starting to get that now. it's like, what's the point in stressing over things you can’t change? honestly, it's been eye-opening for me to just let things be and, as the classic beatles song goes, "let it be." there's a comfort in knowing that i'm not alone in my worries and thoughts. we’re all just trying to navigate this crazy world we live in, doing our best to put one foot in front of the other. and when you take a moment to step back and look at the bigger picture, you see the beauty in the chaos. speaking of beauty, i can’t help but gush about nature and how it's been my saving grace through all of this. you ever just go outside, take a deep breath, and remind yourself of all the things you're thankful for? i try to do it as often as possible. maybe i'm just getting sappy with age, but every time i hear the birds chirping or feel the breeze against my face, i can't help but thank the earth for its never-ending wonder. there's something so grounding about connecting with nature. it puts everything into perspective for me. you ever notice how everything just feels right when you're sitting under a starlit sky, lost in your thoughts? it’s like the universe is telling you, "hey, don’t worry too much." i guess what i'm trying to say is that, through all the uncertainties, I’m grateful for what I have. i’ve been blessed with a supportive family who lights up even my darkest days and friends who are like family, who always have my back. you can't buy that kind of love, you know? it’s priceless. when you strip away everything else, isn't that what life’s about? creating memories with the people who matter the most is what makes it all worthwhile. sure, i might not have all the riches in the world, and my bank account is nothing to brag about, but feeling this deep sense of gratitude is richer than any treasure could ever make me. the question now is, as we move forward, how do we keep this mindset? how do we keep reminding ourselves of what's truly important when life throws us a curveball? i know i’ll try my best, even if it means slipping up here and there. so, yeah, thank you, earth, for everything you've given me – more than I could ever ask for. here's to another year of figuring things out, loving the people close to us, and appreciating the small joys day by day. let's keep reminding ourselves to breathe and take life as it comes because it's the only way we’re truly going to make the most of what we have. what are your thoughts? looking forward to hearing your take!

I’ve been doing pretty well lately I was going though a hard time back in 2022 it started with my breasts being uneven and I noticed it but became very hyper fixated to the point I had to look in the mirror just to convince myself they were fine and not that big of a difference. I went to go see a therapist and a psychiatrist and got put on medication. At first it was still bad but now I barely think about my boobs but this morning I just woke up with this anxiety that I needed to look and I stared at them and now I’m having this worry about them being very uneven and drastic looking..

I have asked my husband and he has told me that you can barely notice but I just don’t know how to accept it and stop worrying about this kind of thing..

I’m 39, a mom of four, and today feels like every other day lately, heavy and slow, like walking through mud in sneakers!! I wake up before the alarm becuase my brain never really shuts off, thinking about lunches, laundry, and who needs what before school!! I work full time, same basic hours as my husband, and yet I’m the one packing bags, finding socks, and calming kids down when the milk spills!! I try to be polite about it, I really do, but im so tired of pretending this is just a phase or that it’ll magically balance out!! He leaves for work, comes home, and that’s kind of it, and I’m left wondering if this is normal or if I’m just bad at asking for help?? I remember when our first kid was born, I thought we were a team, and now it feels like I’m running a small company by myself, with no vacation days and no sick leave 😔

The hardest part isn’t even the physical stuff, it’s the quiet resentment that sneaks in while I’m folding clothes at midnight!! My husband has never changed a diaper, never cooked a meal, never handled bedtime on his own, and I keep asking myself how that even happened?? We both work the same hours, nothing extreme on either side, but somehow all the home stuff became mine without a real conversation!! I tell myself he’s tired too, that work is stressful for him, and that’s true, but so is mine, and then there’s everything after work that never seems to count!! Last week, our third kid threw up all over the couch at 2am, and I cleaned it alone while he slept through it, and the next day he asked why I looked so worn out, like it was a mystery!! I’m not angry all the time, just sad, and a little confused about how thier idea of partnership drifted so far apart

Sometimes I replay old moments in my head, like when I went back to work after maternity leave and cried in the car for ten minutes before walking into the office!! I remember thinking it would get easier once the kids were older, but now there’s homework, activities, attitudes, and so much noise all the time!! I do alot of small things that no one notices, like remembering dentist appointments or knowing which kid hates which cereal, and it adds up fast!! I’ve tried talking about it, gently, firmly, calmly, and it usually ends with him saying he didn’t realize, and then nothing really changes; I dont want a medal, I just want a partner who sees the mess and helps without being asked!! Do other tired moms feel this weird mix of love for their family and loneliness inside their own house??

I still care about my husband, and I know he’s not a villain, just stuck in habits that started years ago and never got challenged properly!! I wonder if I enabled it by trying to be capable and strong all the time, thinking I could handle it, thinking it was temporary!! Now I’m here, 39 years old, feeling older than I should, and questioning if this is just how life is supposed to feel for moms like me?? It feels polite to keep the peace, to not rock the boat, but it also feels unfair, and that thought sits heavy in my chest on long evenings!! I don’t hate him, and I don’t want sympathy, I just want honesty, even if it’s wierd and uncomfortable, and I want my kids to see something healthier than quiet exhaustion!! If you’re reading this and nodding along, please tell me, how do you fix this without breaking everything, or is that just something we tell ourselves to survive, becuase I’m definately running out of energy to pretend I’m fine!!!

Its been awhile, yeah it is. I learned knew things and overcame many problems, i broke up with my now ex boyfriend along time ago

yeah. i took a little break since then, now im dating one off my close friend. Yes i regret it? or do i?....he and i were together before my late ex, and he was obsessive, ...and creepy,...he hurted me 2 times before?...and he said he change but idek....i gave him a chance?, he loves me alot, and idk ....he is a hoe tho...like ...posting girls up on his insta, saying bae...and wanting to fuck his friends?...i dunno whats with my love life..an i dunno what to do.

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I have almost never spoken about this. I always hid it from everyone, especially from my daughters, but not long ago I had to tell them the truth.

I was 14 years old when it happened. I was young, very kind, respectful, and always smiling. I was the classic kid with a thousand problems at home: family fights, beatings from my family, sleepless nights, things like that. I always looked for refuge in others. I was shy and had a stutter, and even so I never had friends… until she arrived, the girl who changed everything.

I’ll refer to her as Ana to protect her privacy. Ana was older than me; she was in her last year of high school. We met because I was being bullied at school and she was always the one leading it. One day she made me her boyfriend. How and when it happened, I still don’t know, but it happened out of nowhere without me realizing it. I guess the lack of affection and love I never had from my family didn’t let me walk away. Ana was 19, and even so we kept our relationship secret. I couldn’t do much—I was small, and even now I’m still only about five feet tall. Ana was tall, strong, dominant. She was about six foot two. She was mean to me and very strict. She always yelled at me and hit me, but because of my fear of being abandoned and being alone, I endured it.

Until one day she forced me to do it with her. It was… painful, but at that moment I saw it as affection and love. I was in a very bad place, and I know that now.

After that, Ana disappeared. A few months later she came back, and that’s when I saw her belly—six months pregnant. We did the tests and yes, I was the father. We hid everything. I ran away from home and moved in with Ana to a very cheap, run-down apartment. She always threatened to have an abortion if I didn’t obey her, and so I did, enduring everything because deep down I needed to protect that baby.

The day the birth came, I was already 15. Endless minutes passed until they finally let me in… and there they were. The doctor handed me my three daughters—yes, beautiful triplets with their mother’s features. Ana pretended to be happy but never held them. She refused to do so and always showed her contempt for them. And then it happened, once we got back home. Ana hit me, but I never let her touch the babies.

One day Ana came home from work. I stayed home taking care of the babies, feeding them with what little we had. That day she didn’t complain or say anything, and I wasn’t prepared for that infernal night.

Ana got up and took a knife. I didn’t sleep all night. I pretended to, and then I saw her, lifting the knife and pointing it with a psychopathic look at the babies. I reacted on instinct and blocked the strike—it hit my face. She cut me from my chin to my forehead. The cut went over my right eye but, by a miracle, it didn’t damage it. There was blood—too much blood. I screamed at her to stop, but she didn’t listen. She tried to stab me, but I pushed her and knocked her down. I reacted fast, moved the wardrobe, and it fell on top of her.

I didn’t stop there. I grabbed my daughters in my arms however I could and went out through the open window.

I ran like I never had in my life. I didn’t stop or look back. The cold hurt; it was snowing, and I couldn’t see out of my right side because of the blood. My daughters cried nonstop. I kept running without stopping. My feet hurt, and after hours of running, I collapsed.

I fell to the ground, covering my daughters so they wouldn’t get hurt. My chest burned with pain and I couldn’t feel half my face. I walked, limping, in the middle of the night until some police officers found me. I told them what had happened, and at least they were discreet—they didn’t force me to go back to my family or to Ana. They were kind enough to take me to the hospital, and when the doctor wanted to treat me, I ignored my own pain and insisted that he take care of the babies first. He did, because I wouldn’t stop insisting.

When we were discharged, I spent a few days on the streets with my daughters… We spent about three months homeless. I gave them what little I had to make food so they could eat, and I went hungry, but for them I would do anything, no matter the cost.

After that, I got a job as a personal secretary to a woman who was a CEO of a company. Then I was able to start paying for things and buying what we needed, always making sure my daughters were comfortable. I raised and educated them with the love and affection I never had.

Years passed, and now my daughters are 17—rebellious teenagers, but good girls. And the only thing I am grateful for from that horrible night is the honor of being a great father.

I used to date this girl, but we broke up cause she didn't really like me, but we stayed best friends. I've only had one person i've ever had a crush on like me back and that's my current partner. I first got a crush on one of my guy friends, but never told him. Then one day, he told me he had a crush on her and I acted normal about it, but I actually wanted to cry. Then, I knew one of my other guy best friends liked her. but I couldn't help. but catch feelings for him. I feel like I should be angry, but i'm not. I can't help how I feel, but everyone else has told me I should be mad at her, but I'm only mad at myself.

is it true when someone tells you life gets "better." as for a while now I have been struggling with my mental health and especially now I'm in college and fighting to get the help I need with my learning and with my mental health.

As at this very moment in time I feel so lost and depressed and alone. I've also had issues with sh in the past and these issues have come up again and I sh 2 nights ago . And I've also struggled with suicidal thoughts in the past as well. they were really bad whilst I was still at school as I was getting bullied and I also have really bad anxiety and that was making school harder for me as I would have to take time outside of the classroom to calm down and I also would disappear to the toilets to run my hands and wrists under cold water.

I then started couslorling and that helped as at that point I was no just struggling to stay in class I was also struggling to get into class as I was having really bad panick attacks.

And throughout my counselorling setting I learnt new way to help myself get through the panic attacks.

That was untill one day where I was out of class because I was struggling with my anxiety and was in fact having a panic attack and my form tutor saw me and she said you look stressed and then she also said to me about trying some ways to calm down and I'd all ready tried 2 and they didn't work and then she said to me about her taking me to sit I'm her classroom as she wasn't teaching and at this point I had my head phones on listening to music to try and calm myself down and come out of the panic attack as I know that worked for me and she had my try one other way to come out of the panic attack which did sort of help it wa the s deep breathing trick nixed with listening to music and the 5.4.3.2.1 track that got me out of the panic attack then it was lunch time so I spent it with my helper and tryes to explain to her what happened but I couldn't so I just started to talk about something else.

hello I'm just here to rant honestly, lately I've been feeling like I wasn't as loved as my siblings...? maybe its only a matter of POV but after hearing things of their childhoods and witnessing my younger sibling's it feels like I was never treated like that, I'm a middle middle child if that helps.

All of them has at least one picture up on our wall and I don't have one that was really specifically just me apparently they lost all my childhood photos but still has my older sibling's?? I know it's stupid im already in my late teens and jealousy is eating me up, they're all talented and smart at whatever they do too, I have multiple hobbies but I wasn't exactly that great at all of them and it just made me feel even worse.

I used to be able to hold in my feelings and emotions but as I grew older I just became more sensitive and everyone noticed, I feel like im just wasting their time and all, they've always been disinterested in me anyways.

I've always found my gifts for them (flowers i found, drawings, origami) in the trash, and it really confused me to see that they still have my sibling's art even if it's just one, was i really that bad? I used to wish i got hit by a car or get sick so they can actually pay attention to me i believe the earliest was by age 6, I can't even communicate with them properly now, I just want myself to be acknowledged not just the lazy, moody, sensitive kid they have including everything I do, I've always pushed myself to atleast have a talent im good at, I've joined many clubs and activities but that's not enough I guess. I've sacrificed sleep for tests to get scores they'd be proud of, nothing.

i think I'm just stupid at this point.

My sibling's felt similarly to what I've felt but it really didn't look that way honestly :( maybe it's just me I'm not sure.

I've been compared to my siblings ever since i grew up by alot of people. i only realized now how lonely i felt as a kid, I never had anyone that close back then and I was just the annoying noisy younger sibling towards my family and distant relatives that are close in age.

I hate whenever they tell me I'm talentless compared to my siblings, they sugarcoat it but I know. They love me, but sometimes I feel like I don't know them and they don't know me.

Sometimes I wish I can have a long deep sleep and forget about everything.