Life Stories and Everyday Drama

just had another panic attack. it feels like my life is just a series of these stupid episodes. i know therapists call them "responses" and whatever but honestly, it just feels like my body is betraying me every single time. i'm so fed up with being exhausted after; seriously, it's like running a marathon mentally and physically.

had one at work today which was embarrassing in itself. there i was, trying to give a presentation on our latest project when bam, heart racing, can't breathe, sweaty palms... the whole nine yards. people think you’re just weak or looking for attention. no one understands unless they've been through it themselves.

i know some might suggest meditation or breathing exercises again but let's be real. those are really just band-aids on a bullet wound. sometimes nothing works no matter how hard you try and that’s just infuriating.

the aftermath is the worst part though: hours of feeling drained and spaced out, unable to focus on anything productive for the rest of the day. who can afford that? i've got deadlines and responsibilities yet these attacks don't care about any schedule.

so tired of hearing people say "just relax" (fuuuuck you people!!!). it's not about relaxing! wish they'd stop giving useless advice and start understanding the reality of what happens during these moments. until then i'll keep pretending everything's fine because apparently that's what society prefers.

Incoherent rant because I need to get it out of my mind, for context TLDR I’m a minor (16 now) and I was groomed online by a woman 5 years older than me and I think she is the only person I’m capable of loving because I think horribly of everyone else I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO

I think I will never be able to love anyone aside from predators, it seems I’m somehow OBSESSED with them. I think there is some part of my brain that is biologically wired toward evil, it’s an outdated belief that mental derangement is caused by demonic possession but I think i might be the first true case of an actual demon. I’m incompatible with people who love me (parents, friends), but most notably romantic relationships with people my age, they fill me with so much indescribable misery and just RAGE. I hate how equality feels. I despise my partner, and I would despise them no matter how beautiful no matter how kind no matter how perfect they might be, I’m eternally contemptful. I blame every bad thing that happens in their dysfunctional life on myself, they usually trust me by dumping all of their problems onto me and I see them as burdens, and I see them as weak because of how I’d love to be in their place and feel misery. I need to be in a constant state of mental distress to feel normal or ‘well’, and if I’m not in mental distress, I don’t feel right and I have to manually trigger the distress somehow to confirm my consciousness. But i swear I’m not abusive, I’m perfect on the outside or at least I try my best to be, I say everything that sounds right (I know it’s right because I’m affirmed for it), I act sympathetic even though internally I think such horrible things, I praise people, and I don’t abandon them because I feel bad. As usually the go-to support system, I would hate to imagine what would happen to them if I left, even though i wish for nothing more than them to go ‘poof’ from my life. This is why I think I actually would be better off alone for the health of everyone. Or better yet I’d be better off with her, my groomer, i find that I always wish my partners were her. I wish the normal adults in my life would behave like she did. I’m NEVER angry with her like I am all these people, I’m incapable of it. she feels so wonderful to me despite the horrors she has seen. Every single day I think about her and I feel such a strange pain inside and I wonder why I couldn’t save the only person I’ve ever actually loved and felt I’d anything for. I’d let her do anything to me (I have). somehow, when I was with her, my anger fizzled out like a light sheen of water on a stove. She was a pedophile yes and she was severely mentally ill snd she coerced me into sexually exploiting myself, but somehow I don’t feel anything about that or what she did because otherwise she made me feel so normal and effortlessly elated. However, whenever I think of the fact she either left me, might be inconsolably depressed and drugged up somewhere, or has overdosed and died while I couldn’t do anything about it ( plus I might not ever see her again), I feel such a painful sucking black hole in my chest that I want to die, scream, thrash, sob, and make it stop through any means necessary. I know if she came back into my life everything would be fixed and the intrusive thoughts would stop, she was perfectly imperfect to me. It’s like I’m filling the void with partners my age. im physically there and doing normal affectionate stuff but mentally, I’m in a perpetual state of chasing her and I’m scared because I know I may always be even when I’m 18, and when I’m 20, provided I don’t find a way to swiftly end my life. I think putting me down is the only god given mercy there is in this comical situation. The only other time I can stop my intrusive thoughts is when I’m trading the sacred parts of my body for the attentions of creepy adults. I don’t even find it hot or interesting, I think it’s so extremely grossly nauseating (I was raised to know better, I denounce this as a practice, i morally disagree with and Id stress the danger of them to others) but it’s a mechanical thing I physically have to do to quiet my brain because I miss her so much. If I resist, I start feeling unlike myself and the resentment builds and the mood swings ensue, and the thoughts of this entire rant consume my attention. it only gets worse with time. I feel like an actual sociopath speaking like this. I know how wrong it is I’m not trying to be edgy, but it’s been like this for years . Whenever I try to talk to a therapist I find my mouth never lets me express the true hideous magnitude of these things because it’s like my brain filters it out until I forget how deplorable it is. I don’t think they’ll understand because the problem is these thoughts and feelings exist at all. It’s unbearable. I don’t care if they don’t represent me, I don’t want to go through the torture of experiencing and resisting them all the time . I wish these people allowed me to die because it’s clearly for the greater good. I promised myself I’d do anything if she stayed. I’d still sell my soul to get her back, I would drop everything and run away, so to me this is the cruelest form of torture of all torture. I don’t understand why I’m so evil or what’s possessed me, or what to do I’ve been fighting since I was very young, I was even hospitalized recently, but it NEVER goes away. 🥹🥹 ohhh what is my life. im so sad that I’m like this at the minuscule age of 16 it makes me feel sick to my stomach

Does anyone know how to heal fearful avoidant attachment? Maybe you think it sounds ridiculous and maybe I sound ridiculous but believe me when I'm saying I've fought this thing tooth and nail. Fearful avoidant attachment is like living in a constant state of dissonance. You're caught waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if nothing indicates it's anywhere near dropping. A part of you wants closeness so bad but the second it's within reach, you're devising elaborate ways to flee from it. Have read therapists call this "protest behavior", illustrating our inner conflict perfectly.

Anyway, here’s what bugs me: mental health experts insist on "proactive intervention" or "self-reflection activities". Translation: daily journaling sounds more fun than tearing off bits of emotional armor? Or they promote consistent therapy practices, but, who's paying these bills? Like oh boy thanks for such practical advice I mean who isn’t excited about therapies that are two times more expensive than your regular cup of coffee! Yet shocker highly individualized approaches seem cheaper (note sarcasm;). How can I possibly consider detaching emotionally from every person that's just out there doing things which pretty much reiterates their own version of disappointing others?

Don’t want to sound blunt however bf of mine said "You should write self-gratitude lists"... Okay buddy guess nobody told him anxious detached gal likes witty humor not butterflies and cookies! Sure coaching suggests we foster bonds weekly with peers prioritizing safe opportunities instead higher actuation downtime alone building pseudo-courses aimed specifically designed getting disconnected sorts wrongs possible, voila quick-fix mindset shifted! The matter is neither physiological genetic driven factor rather suggest mindful individuals critique awareness attach systems deeply internal resolutions engage. That's it guidance worlds burnt incorrectly poll confusing lament without identifying nuances involved journeys navigating interpersonal interactions varying spectrums societal settings. Not assuming altogether nuance clarified either way suggestion count?

There's going to be a party where I'm meeting up with my best friend. Personally, I'm tired of writing about her; that's the point. In fact, I was having more fun doing other things. I wanted to use this time to study because of what happened between us, which I was very uncertain about, but I felt like I came across some really interesting things. I miss her a lot. I can't write to her because she's blocked me, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that we can see each other and talk and have a good connection, even though there's no clear future between us. I don't know her plans, nor does she know mine, and she doesn't ask about my life, whether I'm alive or not, or anything like that. I don't know if she really loves me, I confess. I call her my best friend because at least she lets me influence her somewhat, but it's really nothing, absolutely nothing. There's nothing between us, sorry for the inconsistency.

There's no future between us, no life at all. I don't know what I'm doing for someone like that, or why I fought so hard for her. I realized my struggle was for nothing, and all this time I've spent trying to deny reality, perhaps at her own expense, for pushing her to the point of having to say yes. I don't feel like she's a friend; there's no one there. I didn't show her anything. She's just trying to stay, resisting the urge to leave, and all she needs is some contact from me. Good heavens, I miss her terribly. Seeing her feels like it brings me back to life, but it's a product of all the disappointment I'm carrying, which makes me want to write in the WhatsApp group to end it all once and for all, but I don't want to lose her. I don't know if she's going on a trip, or if I'll even know. Her life is a secret to me. I don't know if she'll leave me if I'm honest. She lives as much in her own world as I do in mine. We both, I confess, are afraid that our progress in life will be cut short because we have opposing principles. Therefore, we fear that the other will take excessive control at all costs. As a result, we feel like we're losing our progress and being with him is the same as having nothing, something that will eventually slip away due to disinterest, or we might rebel and then lose ourselves just the same.

We're not capable of being together like this, and that's why our encounters are occasional, specific. But of course, it's not that we don't enjoy it; quite the contrary. Rather, we make an effort to safeguard our feelings, taking into account our impulses. I'd like to check her Instagram profile, ask her about her life when I think I see her in an ad, but I think I won't. It's a complete distance, but it's to try to maintain our connection. I don't want to leave her, just as she doesn't want to leave me; neither of us wants to. Whenever one of us wants to leave, the other always pulls us back, without exception, without a tantrum, they just manage to catch us. I feel, and I have to say it, that our relationship is dysfunctional; it sounds like it, but it actually works based on the circumstances we've found. I'm tired of writing about it, of trying to figure it out, to the point where I just want to move on to other things in life, like doing math or physics exercises, or reading.

Despite everything, I feel like I've missed her a lot because she's broadened my horizons so much, to the point where I now have a context for how my country works. I can say that I've learned a great deal from the way we interact. Well, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I don't have much to say about it, and I feel like I've completely cleared away that whole tide of thought. As I always say, that thinking is finite, but of course, it's a matter of putting it in the right place. I used to write a lot, and sometimes I even ran out of space. But I don't feel that way anymore. I'm actually forcing myself, and I like it, because I feel like I've really gotten the most out of what I experienced with her, even though I didn't think it would be so little.

In a previous experience, the whole thing took several months, and in fact, it didn't end when I expected. There were other things afterward; the issue was always present. But this is the first time I've noticed that it was all over in such a short time. It's as if that first experience had already become essential, and this one, the current one with my best friend, was more of an applied game, a version of the previous one. The difference is that the previous experience happened with a different girl; she was in a group with its extensions, and I was outside the group. With my best friend, however, it's different because it all happened within the same group. It was many months of study, in fact, I remember that after work, I would dedicate myself to reflecting on the matter, I didn't want to do anything else, because I wanted things to go well with this girl.

I also wanted to explore why I thought the way I did, according to how we were progressing. These are things that amuse me, seeing how my ideas change in that space of writing, of freedom; I did it in a notebook. It feels wonderful to be able to talk about this, to share it, because these are things you don't usually tell anyone. In fact, I don't expect to tell my best friend either, to avoid arguments. That's why our conversations are also brief—another thought!

What happened with my best friend and me happened at the office, with a boss who is the epitome of toxicity. I thought my father had won the prize, but I was completely wrong. My friend is holding him accountable, like she is for everyone. I feel like everyone has to tolerate her now, silently, and that bothers everyone, but they can't do anything about it, and I like that because the world can no longer turn against her. With the party, I feel like it will be possible for her and me to be there, to keep each other company, more than anything. If she rejects me or anything, I won't pay any attention to it. I don't think I should, because I feel like it will be proof of that. Honestly, I don't know what will happen then, and I'm anxious, but I want to do my best for it, because in fact, all this time, I've been preparing for it, to give her my best, to be available, up-to-date, happy, cheerful, so we can continue sharing moments together. I'm not willing to ruin another friendship, not while I have the opportunity to do something, however it may be, that also definitely contributes to my understanding of the world. I feel like she and one other person are my friends at the office, because the rest, I'm afraid, are essentially just acquaintances. I won't deny it, there are times when I cry a lot because she's not with me right now. I also have to say that while I was out on the street, relaxed, every little change reminded me of her, made me contemplate the unique nature of our relationship, mainly because it unfolds within the everyday, yet with particularities that make all the difference. However, despite all the effort I'd put in, I'd expected a kind of marital union; or rather, I was inclined toward it out of inertia, but it wasn't what I'd hoped for.

My journey with her has been one of utter disappointment, in that what we have is unique and always operates within its own particular framework, within its own conditions. There's no room for formality; we can't create it because otherwise we won't feel acknowledged by the other—another important reflection. It's absolutely worth enjoying what we have because, generally, everything ends up in chaos. The last time I ran into her, she was with my boss, and she greeted me with great joy, in her usual bitter way, but undoubtedly receptive to the atmosphere we're in. The fact that she manages to coordinate with me, despite the pressing circumstances—it's the office and she's the one who controls the schedule—is what makes me call her my best friend. She truly considers my needs, and while I can't limit our meetings, she takes responsibility.

I've recently come to a big decision in my life...I mean, it's been on my mind for ages, but only now have I decided to take the plunge! At 25, I'm finally going no contact with my family... and it's not like they made this easy or anything. Sounds dramatic, right? But here's the thing: I've chosen to have a vasectomy. It's something I've thought long and hard about, yet my family just doesn't get it at all. They think I'm throwing away opportunities or whatever....like future ones that might not even happen! Why won't they understand that this is what feels right for me?

It's one of those choices where you weigh everything (pros and cons), yet everyone around you seems hell-bent on weighing in with their own criticisms; It's frustrating as heck. The expectations they pile up on your shoulders can be suffocating sometimes... They've always had a different vision for what they expected from me, which just isn't aligning with who I am anymore. It sucks feeling like an outsider at times... Half of me wants to tell them off and half of me wants to explain more...but arguments lead nowhere helpful here. Anyway, despite all the hassle, I remain hopeful! Maybe time will show them my side someday.

How can I retrieve the pieces of my mind and soul I so fearfully scattered as a boy?

There is a name and a face and a reflection- and somewhere within I'm sure it MUST be me- yes? Of course..and yet, not so sure. It may be fear. Maybe it's my mind protecting itself. But that hasn't worked.. and it won't. Only by facing these demons may I potentially gain.. anything. I've run all my life. When I finally escaped that house, that place of perversions so grotesque that to put them to words here would likely offend any notion of humanity. I ran, and I ran so far. Like many times. But it wasn't far enough. So I went farther, in all directions. My Soul one way, my Will another, and the balance of each lost and forgotten. I cloaked myself in anger, in wrath and fury. I armed myself with a hair trigger temper, rigging bridges to burn and ensuring none could know me, none could touch me. For some time it was fuel. I moved forward with angry, distorted purpose. I was powerful, I felt powerful. I felt that though I'd been so hurt, said pain brought me an anger only a life of tortures and perversions could give, and thus, it made me something else. A little human and a little I'm not sure. I lied to myself, I said it was strength. But how can one find himself buried under an entire mountain, and look to his fellow and say "Because the stone rests atop me, clearly; it is held up."

It didn't last. Eventually anger gave way to sorrow. Sorrow gave way to fear. I started to see a young boy in my mind who was frightened and enraged. He wore my face. At first I cursed him. How weak, how pathetic I must be to even consider empathy to my younger self. All the failed escapes, all the.. everything. The abuses. I was weak, and then, one day, I hit back and I fucking ran. Which must mean that now, I am ten feet tall, no? Ugh.

But the hurt of that young kid- of me- this weird, almost separate(as my conscience would have liked me to believe) 'version' of me, as a kid.. he needed help. He cried. He sobbed. And sometimes if I listened, such cries could almost have been said to come from me. But no one was allowed to know that. I run again. And again. Thousands of kilometers. How many cities, provinces? How many states?? Even countries? Never far enough, never fast enough. And now? I've run again. I've stayed.. longer than ever. I am tired. I am thinking in many ways different than those years. Sometimes kinder. Sometimes defeated. But never without anger.. And what a poison that is. A young man, his hair already graying because of the sins of his progenitors. What madness robbed me of who I am. Why can I not accept? I tell myself I have let things go, but have they let ME go? Never. I just want to find myself again. If I ever existed. I wish I could forgive myself for being powerless. God, I wish I wasn't so broken.

I am surrounded. I see the faces and hear the screams of days long over. I wake up screaming. I hold conversations with others, who carry on such interactions, whilst phantoms of past evils dance before my eyes.

How can I ever tell anyone??? I have tried. I am trying still. I am so afraid. So much violence and death. So much pain, so much pure, unfiltered filth and depravity takes up my childhood. I wear the scars on my face and on my body like little music notes, each one playing the rhythm of my anguish. I try to control the anger. I try to control the fear. And, despite everything, I've made small victories. But they are fleeting. I can't do it alone... but idk if I can do it at all.

I try to tell myself; forgive yourself. You were a boy. You did not choose then, but you must choose now- will you drown, or will you swim? But I don't know the difference. Every time I find footing, I slide down. I've wounded some who've tried only to bring me comfort. I've wounded myself. Inside there is another me, one who failed the tests of abuse, one who is pure Wrath and Vengeance and only the darkest parts of me. He hates everything. He hates me. I, for my part, am so afraid. I shake. I cannot breathe. When I finally try to get help, the Other comes- doubting, damning. Cursing. He tells me- I tell me- that I am weak. That I must be a Man, that I must take Vengeance upon my own blood for the unforgivable evil they have perpetrated. But I can't. All the hurt spills over me... and no matter how truly angry, even if justified, I become.. I can't do it. Where part of me wants to burn everything, where part of me wishes to inflict my pain on those who caused it, I find I do not have the stomach to become that guy. Perhaps that's all that separates me from them.. likely more than that. I know I have a heart it's just broken. I am broken. 26 years old.. I've lived 60, in every other way. What do I do? Will I never beat this??? God help me, God answer me.

life keeps getting worse every day, my wife doesn't even notice how depressed and lonely i am in our marriage. it's ridiculous really. she goes to bed super late, scrolling through her phone like there's nothing better to do. tik tok videos, endless feeds of pointless content. yeah, and then she leaves the bed late too. when she's finally around, she's glued to that screen again! completely checked out from reality. never seems to have time for us or me anymore 🤦‍♂️

what's even the point? i've tried talking but it falls on deaf ears. no changes... just same old story every single day 😤 it's exhausting pretending everything's fine when everything is A MESS🤬 i'm stuck in a room with an emotionally absent ghost who's more interested in a digital world than with our lives 🤷‍♂️ i mean seriously? how did we end up here? used to be close, feel cared about.

now I wonder if she's even listening or cares at all?? everything I try seems useless🙄 i need connection... someone who actually pays attention to what’s happening right in front of them rather being lost in another dimension...

so, i'm 24 now and this year was a bit different for me. i always found birthday wishes kinda overwhelming. so every year my mum used to help me reply to all the family members who send their good thoughts (she's super organized with it). but since moving out last year, it's something i have to manage on my own.

being autistic makes social interactions tough sometimes (it's like trying to follow too many conversations at once). when people send birthday messages, especially those long heartfelt ones, i just don't know how to respond without sounding awkward or ungrateful. it's funny though because these are all people i've known my whole life (you'd think that would make it easier). they've been sending nice wishes since forever!

i tried writing back individually this time. i'm keeping it simple and genuine but every message feels like a huge task. some replies seemed off (or maybe that's just in my head)? anyways, i'm hoping they appreciate the effort even if it's not perfect. communication takes practice i guess.

I’ve got a full life ,good friends, a job I actually like, and way too many houseplants ,but I’m ready to share it with someone special. I miss having a boyfriend: the good morning texts, spontaneous weekend plans, deep talks at 2am, and someone to split desserts with.

I’m affectionate, a little sarcastic, and I love deep conversations as much as silly ones. If you’re kind, funny, emotionally available, and actually interested in building something real… please kindly leave a comment under my story so we can move things up and let’s see what happens.

Bonus points if you’re a dog person, can make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and don’t mind me stealing your hoodies.

Let’s skip the games and go straight to the good part.😭🌸

Today I went to the pharmacy to pick up some antihistamines, and the pharmacist asked if I was feeling better (I’d been unwell for months, mainly because of my shitty family). I wanted to scream: "Yes, for fuck's sake, I *am* better—I haven't spoken a word to my shitty parents in over a month, so you bet I'm better." I left the bag in the car and went to the supermarket; when I got back, I found my mother and sister rummaging through it. "What are these?" they asked, pointing to the antihistamines. For fuck's sake—I get that you’re illiterate and barely finished fifth grade, but "AERIUS ANTIHISTAMINE" is written in huge letters. Are you serious? Unfortunately for me, pharmacies don't sell drugs yet.

I don't know... what a shitty life this is.

25 years old and I haven't done a damn thing with my life.

25 years old and I’m not even free to go out alone to the supermarket ten minutes away.

25 years old and I spend my days in bed with headphones on, blasting music loud enough to shatter my eardrums just to drown out my thoughts.

What’s the point of bringing kids into the world and then raising them like shit?

And as if that weren't enough, they bully us for the state we're in and compare us to other people's kids.

Other people's kids don't have shitty parents.

Other people's kids are free.

Other people's kids didn't grow up forbidden from even stepping outside the front door to play with other children.

The kids my mother envies so much didn't have shitty parents.

What is the point of my life?

There is no point.

The only reason I haven't ended it all yet is the music I listen to otherwise, I’d miss out on new releases from the artists I follow.

And even if I did end it, my family wouldn't think about *me* first; they’d worry about what people would think.

so I’m a 21-year-old guy playing hockey, right? all my teammates are rocking these perfect bodies with visible abs, and there’s me: a little bit on the heavier side. maybe it's not super obvious just how much this messes with my head, but every time I'm in the locker room, I feel uncomfortable like everyone's judging me. it doesn’t help when pictures go up online and friends or family see them... like ugh... just knowing they’re probably noticing i'm not as “fit” as everyone else.

cut to last weekend. we were having team practice, and coach decided to take some photos... great. I definitely felt those eyes on me, even if nobody said anything directly at that moment. then there's all this social media stuff where people keep highlighting others’ achievements or their latest workouts; it feels suffocating! “why haven’t I done as much?” “shouldn't i be trying different dieting stuff?” It keeps dragging down my self-esteem unnecessarily.

look i know what you're thinking: maybe it's about getting healthier in general rather than focusing solely on looks... but tell that to my brain when everyone else around is pretty body-conscious. if you've read books on mental toughness or confidence-boosting techniques (I tried diving into some of those motivational talks) they're nice and all but don't necessarily change the instant fear everytime someone's camera goes click. anyone resonate?

Thank you so much for having the patience to read this, I would really like to hear your opinion on this situation. I have OCD (not sure if this is important, but just to give you some context) it ruined my high-school life. Somehow I was able to graduate high school and got into a college. I suppose it was a month or two after joining the college I got into this stupid misunderstanding with someone and shrieked infront of my classmates and threw my glasses like it was BAD, I know it was a stupid thing for me to do but this started reminding me of high school again and I couldn't handle my emotions. After that, no one really sat next to me, they would put their bags on my bench and would sit behind or infront of me with their friends. I tried talking to them, they were polite enough to say something but it always ended up me being ignored. My OCD anxieties were terrible and during lab sessions experiments was unable to perform or even hold the apparatus on my own, so when our professors would assign us partners, when it came to me everything was quiet. And when someone is assigned to be my partner they made faces of disappointment and their friends mocking them and wishing them good luck. I would do my very best to give assistance for the experiments only to get told that they'll handle everything and I just need to copy theirs. I hated this so much. I tried explaining this to my professors and it was obvious that they didn't want to do anything with it as their lives were not going great in the college. I was told that I didn't make an effort to speak to my classmates, and I thought that was true but every time I would initiate conversations with them I found out that our interests were too different to which I admit yes not all of us have to like the same thing, but I would ask them about the stuff they like and they would talk something and then go back to their friend group. I tried going home together with them, before catching the public transportation we have to take a 3-5 minute ride after that we would get into the public transportation and it always ended up me sitting alone while they would sit together and chat. (I think I might be seeing too much into this but I am so sorry for being such an idiot here.) Group projects always ended up with them doing the work and me doing nothing because there was no work. I tried not focusing on this and did my own thing to keep me engaged. Then I heard that there were rumours spread about me in the college and I think my classmates have painted me as a scary person or someone not mess with. We had a food carnival, I was in my stall giving juice for free while next to me was lemonade stand that was charging money. So when the other students came to check out, no one wanted to do anything with my stall and were buying lemonade from my neighbors. At some point these random girls come to my stall atnd start joking about the juice I was giving away ( IT was a mangosteen drink), suddenly one of my classmates tried warning the girls that who I was...that day was also a shitty day because the people who actually drank the juice from my stall did so out of pity it was very obvious. While I am grateful for those who actually bothered, I couldn't help but feel really hurt about this. I am sorry for this stupid rant, God. Obviously my studies and grades were messed up because I cared too much, but I was told that I didn't seem to care. I obviously tried telling this to my family, they told me that I was just taking things too seriously and that I wasn't really putting any effort to socialise. I told this situation to my therapist who said that I had to sue my college or something (dude, what??). I tried begging my parents to allow me a break but I guess it won't really do anything.....As the second semester has ended I am thinking if I want to continue this college or just suck it up and I'm being a whimp. I am really sorry. Thank you so much for reading this, I would be very grateful to hear your opinion, thank you.

hi everyone i'm kinda feeling anxious these days and would love to share my thoughts hoping for some insights. i've been working at my current job for quite a while now and things were going smoothly until recently the company's financial health has taken a hit apparently. let's just say layoffs are looming around the corner from what i've heard through the grapevine. our team had a secret meeting during lunch (you know one of those hush-hush discussions where we try to piece together whatever info we got) anyways need to vent this before I lose my mind;

you see i'm 41 and have built enough experience in my field but here's the kicker i feel like every company around is either downsizing or not looking for someone with my skill set right now which is a bummer 😅 it's not as easy as it used to be figuring out what comes next when you're faced with redundancy ya know? relocating isn't really an option since we've settled down here wifey doesn't work she's great but she decided to be a homemaker long ago plus there's that mortgage breathing down our necks every month so its kinda hard knowing this might be coming

i try talking about making adjustments planning for potential scenarios but honestly most nights i lay awake wondering how it all happened so fast within months everything shifted pjce of mind no longer exists doing good job turning into merely anxious fingers crossed things change though yet if they dont guess getting ready searching new opportunity should really start thanks for listening i'm open for advice...

So here I am at 21, feeling like I barely know who I am. It's kind of frustrating, honestly. I'm a girl trying to figure out this whole 'self discovery' thing without shelling out for a life coach because, well, I'm broke🤷‍♀️. I've read some articles saying it's important to understand yourself better, but every time I try to dive deep and ask myself questions about what truly matters to me, I just end up more confused than ever!!! Am I the only one? Or does everyone else feel as lost as I do?!!

I've tried journaling, but half the time it feels like I'm just writing nonsense: stuff that doesn't even mean anything! People always say to follow your heart; but how do you even start doing that when you don't know what your heart is telling you?! It's not like there's this magic list of questions that will suddenly reveal everything about myself😩... And while meditation seems cool in theory, sitting still with my thoughts only seems to make things worse.

I guess what really gets to me is seeing others around my age seemingly having their lives together or at least having a clear idea of where they're heading. Meanwhile, I'm stuck with all these scattered thoughts and no clue on which direction to go! It feels like everyone else got a manual on 'how to discover yourself' except me. Ughh! Can someone just hand me the secret formula already??