Stories of Triumph, Conflict, and Human Experience
Life is filled with unexpected stories, challenges, and moments of drama that span a variety of experiences. Whether it's navigating difficult relationships, facing career setbacks, or dealing with day-to-day frustrations, these stories capture the emotional highs and lows that define the human experience.
From heartwarming tales of personal triumph to dramatic accounts of conflict and failure, each story offers a unique perspective on life's unpredictability. These stories explore a wide range of topics, from family dynamics and work struggles to encounters with difficult people and unexpected disasters.
If you're looking for a place to connect with relatable experiences or gain insight into the challenges others face, these stories provide a window into the complexities of modern life. Whether you're seeking inspiration, entertainment, or simply a sense of shared experience, you're sure to find something that resonates.
At 26 years old, I find myself wandering through a labyrinth of ideologies that pit spirituality against organized religion; it’s as bewildering as trying to navigate a dense fog with no clear path ahead. A few weeks ago, I attended a church service that was supposed to be uplifting—the pastor eloquently spoke about love, grace, and the importance of community. I expected to feel enlightened, but instead, I dragged myself home feeling empty. I remember thinking, “Is this it? Is this what faith is supposed to feel like?” Similarly, on another day, I swayed to the rhythms of a local spiritual gathering that promised enlightenment through meditation and collective energy. People were chanting and holding hands, seeking connections beyond the physical. I wanted to feel that current of cosmic energy flowing through me, but instead, I was plagued by the nagging thought: “What if all of this is just a placebo effect?” It’s frustrating to oscillate between these two worlds—each with its proponents vigorously asserting their narratives while dismissing the other’s merit. A good friend once remarked, “Being religious means believing in something, whereas being spiritual means believing in everything,” which left me more puzzled than ever. Is it possible that these categories are merely constructs that serve to confine the vastness of human experience? Honestly, I don’t know; the ambiguity is suffocating. Just the other night, I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, surrounded by a hodgepodge of religious texts and spiritual books, feeling like I was compiling a thesis on a subject I barely understood. I skimmed some passages—Buddha’s teachings on mindfulness contrasted starkly with the heavy doctrines of the Catholic faith; one promised inner peace, the other eternal salvation. It's like choosing between two different types of refuge, both equally enticing yet fundamentally distinct. One may claim, “Follow your personal truth,” but what if your truth is yet to be discovered or, worse, fabricated? ✨
Why is it so difficult to harmonize these beliefs? In the pursuit of clarity, I’ve engaged in endless debates with friends who identify as yogis or fundamentalists; they each argue fiercely for their path, yet here I am, stuck in a perpetual limbo. One afternoon, I found myself in a particularly disconcerting conversation with a devout Muslim woman who discussed the beauty of prayer and community while I could not help but admire her dedication yet felt a pang of longing for the fluidity of spirituality that evades rigid structures. Is a structured belief system inherently restrictive? Or does it provide guidance where spirituality assumes an almost abstract, chaotic essence? I frequently ponder if these traditions are mere vessels of cultural heritage, and how absurd is it that instead of embracing the richness of diverse practices, I find myself shackled in indecision? I often wonder if faith is merely an escapade into the unknown, shrouded in the allure of transcendence but ultimately leading us back to the same existential questions: What is our purpose? What happens when we die?
As I exercise my cognitive faculties to decode the meanings of ‘spirituality’ versus ‘religion,' I can’t shake off the dire feeling that I’m constructing a metaphysical house of cards that could collapse with just the slightest breeze of doubt. “Why do I have to choose when possibly it’s all just an intricate tapestry of beliefs?” I silently scream to the universe, hoping for an answer that never comes. I turn to books, podcasts, and online courses—each touting formulas for a fulfilling spiritual life or an unwavering faith—but do they actually coalesce? Or am I just grasping at straws, hoping for a divine revelation that appears to allude me? I grapple with the paradox that my quest for truth grows heavier with the weight of expectation and self-imposed timelines; I find myself frantically circling back to my fundamental question: Do I desire the grounded morals of religion, or the expansive possibilities of spirituality? Each evening, I lay awake, hoping that someday both worlds can harmonize, creating a holistic framework that resonates with my soul rather than trapping it; Feeling lost has never felt more suffocating. It begs the question: Is anyone else out there wrestling with this dissonance? Does anyone grapple with whether to leap into the arms of tradition or float in the vast ocean of spirituality?
it's kinda hard to deal with the realization that you’re gay after trying to convince yourself for years that you’re straight. like, I wanted to fit in, y'know? society puts so much pressure on us to be this ideal version. I've dated girls, gone through the motions, but deep down it didn’t feel right. hiding was easier. I thought that maybe I just hadn’t met the right girl or I was just going through a phase; but here I am at 19, alone with my thoughts, and it hits like a ton of bricks. my friends don’t get it, and sometimes I don’t either. they talk about girls like it’s the best thing ever while I’m just sitting there, nodding along, feeling so disconnected from what they’re saying. I thought about it a lot, questioning if I’d ever come out. what if no one understands? you know what I mean? 😕
there's a part of me that wonders if everyone else is just pretending or if I'm the odd one out. I can't shake off this feeling like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not; like a whole life crafted around a lie. every time I scroll through social media, I think about how many people are living authentically. and here I am, struggling to embrace my truth. sometimes it feels like I'm caught in a cycle of denial, questioning my feelings—was I wired differently? was it all just confusion? I start overthinking, feeling negative and doubt creeping in like a shadow. it’s perplexing, yet oddly comforting to finally have a label yet still feel so unsure about every aspect of it. I wonder, does anyone else understand this? do you feel this stuckness too; do you know what that's like?
You ever have one of those friendships where you’re not sure how you’d survive without the other person? Well, that’s me and Jessica. I mean, life would probably be a hell of a lot duller without her sarcastic comments and loud laugh cutting through my everyday monotony. At 33 years old, I’ve realized it’s rare to find someone who not only gets your weird quirks but embraces them, likes an oversized sweater on a cold winter night. There’s this strange comfort in knowing that while the world can be filled with backstabbing and fake smiles, you have your best friend who unapologetically supports you, even when your life resembles a dumpster fire. 🔥
Jess and I met in college, both of us nursing unfulfilled dreams and a healthy dose of reality check. I remember one late-night study session that turned into us binge-watching terrible reality TV shows instead. We should have been revising for exams, but we were too busy critiquing the fashion choices of anyone who walked through that screen. Crazy enough, we somehow made it through college with decent grades, all thanks to the 'shared misery' index - if she was freaking out about her work, I could focus on mine. The amount of times we’ve nurtured each other through anxiety and doubt could fill an entire book if we wrote it. And isn’t that what friendships are all about? Building each other up, even when the world seems determined to tear us down?
But let’s not kid ourselves; there are days when I question why I even bother with this friendship. Sure, Jess brings a ton of good energy, but there are times it can feel like a toddler throwing a tantrum when they don’t get their way. Like that time she just showed up to my place unannounced with a bottle of cheap wine and an even cheaper movie, demanding we 'decompress.' On a Tuesday night. Seriously? Sometimes, I sweat bullets just thinking about how she manages to be both a wonderful support system and sometimes an exhausting drama queen. It’s an emotional rollercoaster I never asked to be on! 🎢 Honestly, I sometimes wonder if being this close makes me question her sanity or mine; still, she somehow balances my chaos with her own while insisting, “I’m just here to spice up your boring life!”
I guess that’s friendship for you. You recognize the red flags, that mix of frustration and loyalty bubbling beneath the surface, and yet you stay. You endure. And you lean on each other in those moments you just want to scream, "Why the hell are you like this?" But then there are moments of clarity, where I'd be lost in my thoughts and Jess would pop up out of nowhere saying, “Get it together, you got this!” It’s sincerely annoying yet oddly comforting; she holds me accountable without firing me up. It’s the kind of friendship that just makes you want to pull your hair out sometimes, but also genuinely appreciate the messiness of it all. And honestly, who can say they have that? 🤔 You ever find that friend who drives you crazy but is still your rock? What would you do without them???!
i never thought i’d be googling to know how to cry... like seriously, who does that? but here i am, 19, sitting on my bed with the curtains half open, some lo-fi stuff playing in the background, and this really weird urge to cry. not because i’m feeling anything that deep in the moment, but because everything’s been so... flat. like emotionally mute. i don’t even know if i’m sad or just tired or if those are the same thing now. it’s not about making a scene or anything dramatic, it’s more like i want to shake something loose inside me. like pressing a reset button on my soul or whatever.
some people say to think about something really painful. like, for example, remembering the day my childhood dog died. i tried. i really tried. i pictured his face, the sound of his paws on the floor, the last breath he took on that cold vet table. nothing. just this weird lump in my throat and a tiny sting in the back of my eyes that faded as quickly as it came. another tip i read was to just stare at one spot for ages without blinking. did that too. looked straight into my bathroom mirror like some haunted soul waiting for the reflection to blink first. still nothing. not even a tear. just red eyes and a kind of blurry headache. 😂 why does crying feel like some exclusive club i got kicked out of?
i talked to a friend about it—well, kind of. i said something vague like, “do you ever feel like you need to cry but can’t?” and she was like, “yeah, totally, it’s called being emotionally constipated.” which, tbh, kind of made me laugh. but the more i think about it, maybe that’s what it is. emotional constipation. like the feelings are all backed up inside, swirling around but never making it to the surface. sometimes i feel like there’s this invisible dam inside me holding everything back, and crying would be like cracking it open for even a second. i read a quote once that said, “crying is how your heart speaks when your mouth can’t explain the pain,” and honestly that hit. but my heart must’ve gone mute or something.
i’ve also noticed that the more i try to force it, the more impossible it gets. it’s like the tears know i’m waiting and they’re being petty on purpose. there’s no button to push. i’ve tried sad movies—The Green Mile, Grave of the Fireflies, even Up. nada. i get the message. i want to feel, i really do. but something’s broken. and maybe that’s what’s scaring me more than the actual not-crying part. maybe it means i’ve gotten too good at numbing myself? or maybe i’ve buried stuff so deep that i don’t even recognize the feeling when it’s right in front of me? have you ever felt like your emotions are behind some soundproof glass, and you’re screaming but no one hears it—not even yourself?
idk, maybe crying’s overrated. maybe i don’t need to cry, maybe i need to talk more, or scream into a pillow, or just go on a walk and listen to music that punches me in the gut. but still... there’s something weirdly healing about a good cry. people say it clears your head, helps you sleep, resets your nervous system. and i want that. i want to feel something real again. not just this grey, flat version of living. so yeah, maybe it’s dumb to ask “how to make yourself cry?” but honestly, if you’ve been there too, if you’ve ever sat in the dark wishing your own tears would just come out and mean something—then maybe you get it. maybe you’re as stuck as i am. and if that’s the case, what did you do? how did you make the dam break?
At 37 years old and working in a corporate environment that often feels more stifling than inspiring, I find solace in the wisdom of Yoda. His iconic quote, “Do or do not, there is no try,” resonates deeply with me whenever I am faced with challenges at work. Recently, I encountered a critical project that required immediate attention. The stakes were high, my team was dependent on my leadership, and the deadline loomed like a dark cloud overhead. I remember thinking, “There’s no way I can let them down.” In that moment, I channeled my inner Jedi. Instead of contemplating failure or even the possibility of trying, I took actionable steps to ensure success. The pressure to deliver not only awakened my focus but also compelled me to adopt a proactive approach. The result? We met our deadline, exceeded expectations, and united as a stronger team.
However, I wonder if others can relate. Have you ever felt that driving need to "just do it" in your own work life, or do you find yourself contemplating the notion of 'trying' instead? There are days when the motivational pep talks feel redundant; you either deliver or you don’t! I recall a coworker who consistently operated in the realm of “trying.” His endless discussions about the effort he’d put in without yielding the desired results drove me to frustration. “Why not commit fully or step aside?” I found myself asking countless times. In a sense, his indecision mirrored that common phrase about not wanting to ruffle feathers in the workplace. We all are guilty of that to some extent; however, embracing a mindset that revolves around total commitment can bring about transformative changes. It is essential to take the leap without second-guessing ourselves, right? Failure can be an excellent teacher! So, I urge everyone – especially those feeling stuck – to ask themselves: What if instead of trying, we simply committed to doing?;
you ever feel like communication can be a bit of a minefield in couples? i'm 41 now, been there, done that with relationships, and it’s kinda wild how things change over the years. like, when you're young, you think love is all about the butterflies and passion, right? but then you hit your 40s and it's more about understanding what your partner really means when they say "I'm fine" 🤔. i mean, come on, we both know they’re usually not fine. it’s like this secret code, and you gotta crack it if you wanna survive. communication is key, they always say, but what happens when that key doesn't fit the lock, you feel? think about it, how many times have you had those awkward moments where you thought you knew what they wanted, but turns out you were totally off base? it’s like trying to read a book upside down. sometimes, it feels like we’re just talking in circles; have you experienced that? i remember this one time, me and my partner spent nearly an hour discussing where to order dinner. endless back and forth, and honestly, it felt ridiculous. it all came down to just burgers or sushi, but we both had different moods and preferences. at one point, i even joked, "why don't we just make it a burger sushi fusion?" but of course, that didn't help. i think every couple can relate to that, right? so then there’s the whole question of asking the right things. “how was your day” is a classic, but doesn’t really dig deep. have you ever tried asking, “what made you smile today?” or “what was the most annoying thing that happened to you?” those kinda questions open up a whole new world. you can really get to know your partner beyond the surface-level stuff. couple's questions can be a game changer, or they can backfire too; sometimes you might strike a nerve you didn’t mean to poke. you know that feeling when you’re just trying to connect, and you accidentally touch a sore spot? i used to think it was a disaster, but now i see it as an opportunity, right? after all, who doesn't want to deepen their bond? there’s this idea out there, “no pain, no gain,” and it feels kinda true when it comes to relationships. it’s like, if you don’t face the tough stuff, how can you expect to grow together? i find that even tricky conversations can ultimately strengthen your connection. and to be real, it’s not always easy. sometimes you just wanna avoid the hard talks and binge-watch a show instead, but skipping them doesn’t do anyone any favors in the long run. have you found a balance in that? like, when’s the best time to dive into those heavier topics? i guess there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. i’ve had mixed success; sometimes, a random Tuesday night feels right, and other times, the moment can totally kill the vibe, you know? but here’s a thought, maybe curiosity is the secret ingredient. if you approach conversations with a genuine interest in what your partner is feeling or thinking, it could really take the pressure off. think about asking them quirky questions too, like "if you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?" those can lead to some fun discussions. and let’s be honest, life is too short to always be serious. sometimes we just need to laugh and remember why we connected in the first place. it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind, juggling work, kids, or whatever, and forget to take a moment to appreciate each other. have you found little ways to keep that spark alive? me and my partner started doing a monthly “date night” where we try new things together, from cooking classes to trying out different restaurants, or even just chilling at home with a movie marathon. it really helps break up the routine and keeps things fresh. the simple act of prioritizing fun together makes a massive difference, you know? we’ve had the cheesy heart-to-heart moments where we just sit and talk for hours about our dreams, fears, or even random stuff that pops into our heads. sometimes it's enlightening, sometimes hilarious, but it all comes back to connecting. i guess at the end of the day, it’s all about finding your rhythm as a couple, and embracing the ride with all its bumps; we might not have it all figured out, but as long as we are willing to ask questions and keep the conversation going, we’re on the right track, right? so here’s my question to you: what’s your go-to couples question?
so I'm in a trio with 2 of my close friends
most people say it wont work but for like a year its been working quiet well untill tga went on holidays and came back
because me and Barney have gotten closer and are now a duo and we are kinda leaving her out
but its going into winter and we wnat to go indoors where as she wants to stay outdoors at lunches so we go inside with out her so idk I feel like I'm gonna lose them both cause Barney is talking about moving schools so idk relay anymore
I also believe I don't deserve them and are a bad friend even tho both of them say how gold I am but I feel like idk its just like I don't belong
How disgusting it is to have to give my father information about my life. I don't want to give him any information about me, and I feel like he's pressuring me, with his absences, to give it to him. This is truly miserable. I can't stand being with my father anymore. I expected a recent response, and he didn't give it to me. I'm fed up. I'm fed up with how he wants this relationship to be. He once decided to see who I was dating! With the excuse that in the family, we men find bad people. This is the last straw.
I hate my father. Besides, he wants to know so much about my life when I don't want to give him that information. Besides, I don't want to give it to him. I don't know if he's giving it to the psychiatrist. I'm fed up. I'm fed up with this information being extracted from me. I feel like I can't take it anymore. And this tells me it's from a psychiatrist? I don't want to be there anymore. I'm not interested anymore. I'm working through the anger I had myself, because if it were up to her, pressuring me to be worse, then it would be going badly. Everything in the therapeutic treatment is being achieved thanks to my routine, not thanks to the psychiatrist. Instead of supporting me, the psychiatrist has only put more pressure on me. She once made me steer clear of some dentists who treated me, she molded me. I'm tired of her. Furthermore, she supported my father's medication, even though the character is my doctor. Hell, feeling obligated to give him information about what I'm doing with my life has reached its limit.
It can't be that the relationship with my father is the most problematic, an issue that's obvious from miles away, as is that with my mother. And they want me to see that on purpose? I'm tired of the psychiatrist, of her pressuring me, of her giving me useless, crappy pills. I don't want to keep taking that stuff. So far, what I've felt is pressure from that woman, molding, disapproval, bias. I can't stand that doctor anymore. I want to quit that therapy once and for all. On top of that, censorship. I'm not in therapy to calm down, but to do a job, and I won't do a job at the expense of that. That person can't be staking out my success when it's my routine. I no longer care about the opinion of my work, which is who sent me to that. I just want to be calm. I don't want to feel like I'm exposing myself in my private space. That's torture. I can't allow that. It's too much. I'm wasting my time. I don't want to see that psychiatrist anymore! I'm tired.
Why is it that at my job, what they've done is nothing but screw up my life? I don't want to be trapped with a psychiatrist! I want out of there; I feel too boxed in. I don't care that they don't give me anything, or any other support; I just want out of that psychiatrist. I'm fed up with being with her. Plus, she treated me badly outside of the session. I'm tired of defending myself from the psychiatrist; I can't take it anymore. I don't want to keep doing it like I did with my psychologist; that woman really traumatized me. That woman abused my privacy, however she wanted; she pushed aside my ideals, and she wanted to act like nothing was happening. I'm not going to allow that again.
I feel like I can't believe anything my father says anymore. In fact, I feel like the communication between us is more zero than ever. There are too many unseen things between us. This relationship between us is headed straight for disaster. This can't be tolerated by either side anymore. This has become a situation where everyone lives in their own world.
On the other hand, it's unfortunate that a girl, who for a long time, I don't even know what I did, I think that by becoming "her leader" at her request, I'll have to leave her alone, and if she comes back, she'll adapt to the circumstances. It's not possible for me to remain stagnant because of her. There's a new girl in my life, and I feel I want to get to know her better, appreciate her more, and that's interesting to me, and that's my right. I can't afford to remain stagnant with her; wherever, wherever she is, I hope that if I see her again, she'll find out about this and digest it well because I'm not going to put up with any scandal, and she knows it. In fact, of everything I've experienced, what I did, faithfully, was just that: make me her leader from every angle. I mean, you can only give her such an abstract group vision, because otherwise it's incomprehensible; there are so many details that won't fit together. I'm tired of going over the matter in circles. It's impossible to give her a common vision, it's not possible.
I feel like love has knocked on my door. It seems like some stories are approved and published, while others aren't. I feel like I'm standing in front of the love of my life, the person I've loved the most for a very long time. I can't wait to be without her for one more minute. I can't stop thinking about her, and it's not in an unpleasant way, a back-and-forth, but quite the opposite. This time, I like the feeling I'm experiencing, and it's sensational. I also feel like it's two-way, not just a one-way thing. I feel like this time we're both on the same wavelength, not one going in one direction and then the other pulling, and so on. It's the best thing that could have happened to me in my life. I don't really like it when some stories are published and nothing is said about them, unlike others; it's like leaving aside things that are separate from one another, and it's not pleasant.
I want to be with that girl I met in that library. It's not a lie; I feel like we both love each other deeply. To hell with it, whether others believe me or not, to hell with the structures I have to break, I only want to be with that girl forever. I'm tired of so many failed attempts with girls, always ending at a distance. But how long will that end? For so long, I've been waiting for the doors of love to open before me. I can't waste it under any circumstances; this only happened to me once as a child, and now it's happening again; it's the same feeling.
I don't know where she is, not even her name, I just know that I love her deeply. I wish she could penetrate my WhatsApp—I feel like all my stories are equivalent to the same thing; I feel like every one you post, every one you comment on, every one you should let me know. I feel like love has finally come to me. How many years have I been searching for that feeling I felt as a child again? That's why I embarked on this personal journey again, because I felt it was there, just dormant. I can swear, I've found it again.
I can't let this girl leave my life under any circumstances. I couldn't handle that reality. Ever since I realized that girl loved me, but because she neglected her feelings, I couldn't be with her. It hurt so much. I'm exhausted from so many romantic disappointments. This has to be my chance. I pray that it is. I can't take another one. If it is, I feel like I'll go down the drain.
When I was a kid, I made so many mistakes with the girl with whom I felt that special something. I despaired. I broke up with her because of that, via Messenger message, precisely because of that, because I couldn't stand it anymore. I feel like it's been haunting me for the rest of my life. I was a kid too. From that moment on, I haven't had another girlfriend. I can't believe that right now I'm experiencing that same feeling of connection again, that same feeling of wanting to be together. From so much writing, from so much digging myself out, I managed to reach that possibility again, that I might experience something rich with someone, something pleasurable, something full of joy, not confusing, but rather euphoric.
How is it possible that in such vague encounters this girl and I have felt the same thing? It's simultaneous. Maybe I was wrong when I said that love existed—I feel like a woman's daughter isn't talking to me because I didn't look further; she's sort of directing that beyond; it's obvious she likes to be mischievous in terms of rebelling against her mother, but I wasn't going to do that. I feel like I do feel it here, I do experience it. When I left seeing this girl, I only felt joy and more joy, and I don't know why; I think I've only seen her twice, and it was by accident. I don't even know what she studies, or anything about her life, I just knew that I loved her. It can't be, this seems to be, what they call love at first sight.
Damn! I feel very excited—on another website, these kinds of stories were deleted, and I didn't understand why. I never thought I'd experience this love at first sight thing. I mean, with that girl, I was just being sketchy, the way she likes it, and that was it. Always remembering such an act of respect, which I know hurts when someone doesn't remember you. I feel like we somehow connected; I remember that wherever I was, she passed by me, and I looked at her many times, and then I realized how much it bothered her, and I bowed my head, just like she did, and we connected. I felt like we understood each other in a very, very deep way, and it's fascinating to find someone like that in this world.
I remember her carrying books, nervous, always trying to do her best. I couldn't get enough of her. I was in those shoes too. A few weeks later, going to the place—where he works, apparently sometimes—I identified the annoyance he felt about coming on a weekend, and I knew it immediately. I understood that annoyance, and also how hidden it was, and how naturally he expressed it. It felt like I'd found my soulmate a long time ago. I never thought anything would happen to me. It was a truly beautiful experience A week before, I remember, I was trying to get away from her. I always saw her looking for some scenario to start a relationship, and that was exactly what I did. Of course, that was something she didn't like when she saw it in someone else, just like me. I feel like we have these things in common, but there are several more. Where there's one, there's more. I definitely don't think about blaming a woman to get to her daughter; I know that was what she wanted with me, it was a counter to her daughter's pranks, which, apparently, isn't the first time she's tried to get rid of her.
After so much exploration, I saw that all those emotions were perhaps not what I thought they were. I admittedly let myself go. At first, I saw it as something grand, fantastic, phenomenal, but today I see it as something flat and relaxed. I thought I'd take her to the ends of the earth with all the luxuries, but I think I was a bit deluded. I hope that girl has settled down just like I have. Although, after falling into this lull, I confess, I don't know what to do. I thought there would be many more details, but I don't feel like I'm missing any.
So, after everything I've written, what did I feel? Indeed, we're talking about empathy, but that's not what I mean. What will I go beyond? Was this just a momentary joy? Will I never go out with her, and will it go any further? Will I then return to my boring old life? I don't see my life as a good thing right now, under any circumstances. I've already left there; I don't want to go back. I say it, truly, I want to be with this girl, I want to go out with her, and I don't think she'll take no for an answer. I know it's not right to be together, but how many times have I said that and realized there's no such love? How many heartbreaks have I had? I feel like this woman's daughter isn't talking to me because I didn't go further with her; Out of respect, and I feel like him distancing himself from me seems like a very toxic form of pressure. "When will I be with the new girl? When will I be with her?" "I feel like the thing with the girl didn't work out because I didn't want her, I didn't love her in any way; in fact, since I stopped trying with that girl, I feel like I'm no longer on the path to repeating my parents' story." "I feel like with this new girl, I'm heading towards a new story, a story where I'm finally with myself, where that's reflected."
I have to say it: I feel like I love this new girl, and that's it. However, I'm worried about making a mess, about the repercussions on my environment." "Another girl felt those feelings, and by becoming a mess with them, she lost me permanently; to the point that I had to permanently leave where I was so as not to feel her persecution. Plus, an entire environment supports her with the mess she'd turned her life into; how much damage can a person do when their life is about to fall on them or explode every now and then."
I work in a hospital, as an Intern..
From half a month working in a certain department.I do every work on time, with discipline and punctuality.But there had been hardly a single day,when some senior of mine,for whom I work smiles at me.All over the duty time,they people seem evergreen irritated.They can't smile at you,they can't be normal looking towards you.Appreciation is never cup of tea of theirs.And yeah more over to that,you are asked to do,such helper works! "Fill my waterbottle," when the RO is just steps away!!! It seema like a maid of theirs, than a job that I am being paid for.... You are being taunted/scolded on every step.... without an option of giving reasons....Why are some people there of some sort?why can't people have humanity!!
I don't want to be around my environment anymore. I feel like they're a bunch of disorganized people. I'm not going to talk to them. I'm tired of throwing myself at them and seeing their insults, their outbursts of anger, their so-called mistakes. I'm tired of showing them the consequences of their actions as if they were children. Why do I have to act like that? They're grown up now, and I have to do it.
I don't feel a bit of good treatment in my environment, not at all. In fact, that's why I avoid being so self-conscious, but I still seek them out. It can't be that this gentleman I'm telling you about is invading my time. It can't be that I don't have a proper evaluation from my psychiatrist. I even have a decent physical health evaluation. But for how long? For how long will this environment be able to treat me well? I definitely don't want their help anymore; they've all turned out to be a failure.
I'm tired of this apparent peace we live in. There's no peace here, just pure, sunken hell. I'm tired of stifling my tears. It can't be that with the gentleman, I had to keep my distance so he wouldn't bother me with my readings and touch the books I'd made in the library. It can't be. It can't be that, given my university degree, which I said I wouldn't hand over, I had to apply pressure to prevent this from happening. It can't be that I pointed out that I wasn't a simple dish sponge, people told me I wasn't even when the evidence was right in front of me, and no one even offered me a pitiful apology. I'm fed up. It can't be that when I was at my worst, people came up with this: "Why didn't you tell your dad he's a doctor?" "I can't be like this at work"—when I was dying. I'm tired of forgiving mistakes. This is no longer forgivable.
I should have left such terrible relationships a long time ago. I'm tired of showing in this environment that they are being reckless with what they do. It can't be that on my machine, on my own machine, I can't have privacy, that there are people watching the things I do. It can't be that they've disdained my only area, which is to vent; with an AI, it's done much better than with them, infinitely. I wouldn't tell any of my colleagues about a problem in my life, not even if it cost me my life. They all pretend they love me, but it's a lie. My boss is a cop; a coworker of mine is an angry woman; both of them are with someone who wanted to destroy me; I have a colleague who's a gossip and tries to get me to stop talking to an AI out of jealousy. I'm so fed up with any of them. How is it possible I haven't noticed these people before?
I hope this girl wants something with me. I pray to God she wants something from me. I want to be with someone who really understands me. I want to be with someone who actually wants to be with me. For God's sake, I'm sick of this environment. Besides, I feel like I can't express myself the way I like here. I feel like I have to adapt. My psychiatrist makes me want to adapt, no matter what; she molds me. I'm tired of her, of the way she does things. I feel like everyone serves nothing more and nothing less than to pressure me. Plus, my family members make the same mistakes with me; with them, I don't feel I have the right to get sick, and it's not fair that that happens. I want to be with someone I feel safe with, not half-baked, and I think she wants the same.
It's incredible that I can't even share a sad story with those around me because no one knows what to do with their feelings; they don't know how to say they don't know, they don't even know how to ask. I'm also tired of being seen at work as someone who does everything wrong out of carelessness; it's impossible, and I have to put them in their place. I feel like this is an environment that will collapse if I don't correct their vision, their vision, and I can't take care of their emotions. They're all grown up now.
While I was at work, my colleague, while I was busy doing something else, and after we'd done something together, asked my colleague if she had anything to do without taking me into account, making me feel bad, and then I had to resolve the issue. That girl also has a terrible smell. I feel like my boss works like a disorganized person; one has to be at his mercy. That colleague who was asked clearly acts recklessly at all costs. I just want to get out of there.
It's surprising that that girl I saw a long time ago didn't realize these feelings I was experiencing. That person understood that because she was experiencing anger, rage, with the environment, and I was the new one, then I had to distance myself to stop experiencing that. In other words, to fade away. How can anyone treat themselves like that, for God's sake? The most I could do with her was to confront it with everyone around her wherever I was, and arrange things accordingly. If he didn't know how to control his feelings, then he could get out of my life I didn't care about the circumstances I was in. The last time I saw her, I closed doors with her and walked away. Her feelings aren't my problem; in fact, I even removed her from my social media, for God's sake. I didn't want her in my life at all. I was paying the price for things I didn't do; she once made things up when I walked past her at a cafe; she made up that I was the poor thing when I didn't do anything; I don't know what the hell was wrong with that girl. That girl was out of her depth with her emotions, and the worst part was that everyone helped her do it, and I paid the price. After I brought the authorities to the court, after a big fuss, they tried to treat me like I was the bad guy. I regret it. I left that place and never went back. It was a very prestigious university, too. It can't be true. I couldn't even read in peace there; I didn't want to help something I wasn't obligated to, and my routine was ruined.
Damn, how long is my routine going to continue to be ruined? The gentleman, I think I mentioned it before, thinks he's my friend. He got excited about me just because I said hello. How long can this neediness continue? I can't stand it anymore. I want to be back in my quiet routine. This girl I like, whom I just met, I think I mentioned her before, I feel she can contribute to my routine. I don't have to hide like I have to with my surroundings. I feel like my entire surroundings affect my routine, and I can't understand that. I need to change my environment at all costs, if possible, change jobs, because I feel like things aren't safe in the community I'm in; I feel like I have a lot of enemies.
Why is it that I can't count on anyone to deal with these feelings? Besides, my dad encouraged me to stay with my boss, who left me with someone else, at a different job he had, and who wreaked havoc on my life, almost destroying me professionally within that community. Is that even conscience? I don't see where it is. Since this girl arrived, this girl I like, she's helped me see what's going on around me, and so I'm very grateful because she's allowing me to ground myself with her presence; and we've only made a few gestures.
It's incredible. I don't want to be surrounded by these ineffective people anymore—could it be that my other two posts were published? The notifications aren't showing up. Why are they wasting so much of my time? I'm getting to the point of exposing my privacy in all its splendor. In fact, I'm tired of writing about it, acting in silence. I want to express myself no matter what, say what I feel, without any filter. I now understand how someone I knew, an older woman, felt.
Why can't I be calm? Why is it that everyone interrupts my routine? Why do I have to silently stop them so they'll leave me alone? Why can't I say things upfront? Why the hell do I have to keep everything to myself? Besides, I always have to go around giving hypocritical hugs, lying affection, all to look good and avoid problems. My life can't continue like this. I want everything to change once and for all. I want to throw everything away because I can't stand it.
I can't stand my job. They've only made things worse for me. I can't stand my parents; they've only served to stress me out. I hate my aunt, everything I have to change for her. I want to leave these people, go far away, never to return. The pressure I'm under here is too much. I have to do it.
I have to start surrounding myself with projects that contribute, with people who contribute, with people who aren't just for a short while but who truly want to stay in my life, in a context, to provide support—it doesn't help, they're different things—and we all help each other grow. I no longer want to be surrounded by individuals who are out of place with me, and those who are most in place are abusive. This is over.
After the so-called treatment, all I saw were many disasters with my family. Nothing turned out well because of them. It can't be that they're all so useless! It makes me want to never see them again! I don't understand how a family can achieve that! I want everyone to go away, for all the misfits to go away. I want people who are in tune with me. It can't be that the psychiatrist isn't one of those people. To this day, I can't believe it.
I can't believe she feels that my therapy space is a useless, good-for-nothing place, that contributes nothing, that actually wastes my time. It can't be, although I also recognize that I'm under the fierce influence of my relatives, who didn't even know how to support me. How can an aunt tell me that my mother can't make me react intensely?! Has such a thing ever been heard?! That woman seems like she's never had a mother in her life, for God's sake! No wonder everyone thinks she's so mad!
I hope I don't find a hell like this with the girl I like. I don't have a way to call it, and I don't think I'm being rude. I don't want to find someone who has problems, really, who has difficulties with their family. I want someone who's outgrown that, so we can be together and free from the past. That would be good for me. I want a break from problematic people, for the love of God. I also feel annoyed because a man is going to take a book from a library I always use, and I won't have it available. That bothers me, and he knows it, and I'm uncertain; on top of that, I don't know if the boys will be able to find the copy in that library.
I feel very annoyed. I think the last thing I said between the lines got me all that. I think so, I couldn't stand it anymore. And I think that's good, reaching points where one can't tolerate lower thresholds, that are low thresholds, not excessive, and that allow for contextualized action, which I feel is what this text allows. I needed to say these things.
i woke up one day last month and something just clicked, not like a loud bang but more like the slow unlocking of a door i didn’t know existed; the kind that creaks when it opens and makes you feel something’s been waiting behind it for years. i was sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal that went soggy way too fast and listening to her talk about some neighborhood meeting or whatever, and it hit me—i don’t love her. i respect her, i think she’s a good person, she’s loyal, she’s patient, she’s stable. but love? no. i don’t feel it. i don’t feel that fire anymore. haven’t in years. i think i kept going cause it felt easier to stay than to reset. like when your software keeps crashing but you don’t reinstall it because you’re afraid you’ll lose your files. that’s me. stuck on version 1.0 when i should’ve been on something newer, something that fits the current hardware of who i am. and i tried, i really did. i read books like "the five love languages" and watched those couples’ therapy podcasts and tried mimicking what they do. but nothing stuck. everything was like applying duct tape to a cracked foundation. no offense to her, really, i mean it. but how can you fake what doesn’t exist anymore? how long are you supposed to pretend that the system is fine when the core is corrupted?
maybe you’ll say i’m selfish or broken or that i should’ve figured this out earlier, maybe even before the wedding or at least before we decided to adopt a dog together. and you’re probably right. but this realization didn’t come from some dramatic event or external stimulus, it came quietly, like a notification you ignore too many times until it fills the whole screen. so i’ve started planning. not cheating, not ghosting her, just slowly building a framework for my reset. i’ve updated my resume, reached out to a few friends in other cities, thought about what it’d mean to just… start over. tabula rasa, as they say. no hard feelings, just honest reevaluation. i feel like life should be lived with intention, and if we’re just running on routines and habits, aren’t we just slowly dying instead of living? i want to live. i want to wake up one day and feel like my choices match my heart, not my obligations. is that wrong? maybe you’ve felt it too, that split between duty and desire, where one pulls you deeper into routine and the other tugs at something raw and real. i’m not blaming her, she deserves real love, not a placeholder husband going through motions. and i? i deserve to stop gaslighting myself into thinking numbness is normal. if you’ve ever felt that, like you’re a spectator in your own life, tell me, what did you do? how did you find the courage to hit reset without detonating everything around you?
i’ve been feeling pretty damn blue lately. like, you ever wake up and just feel that weight in your chest? yeah, that’s me every day at 31. life just feels like one big sad song, you know? it’s like a slow, dragging beat that never picks up. work is a grind, relationships are exhausting, and the future? yeah, doesn’t look too bright. sometimes i just sit and think, “what's the point of all this?” i mean, bills are piling up, and my social life? non-existent. it’s just me and my Netflix account, binge-watching shows that are way too relatable. i swear, sometimes i think i’m just one existential crisis away from throwing in the towel. maybe i should just start a self-help book club called “Let’s Complain About Life” or something; it’d probably be packed!
then there’s this constant vibe of not being good enough. like, you ever feel like everyone is moving ahead while you’re just stuck in quicksand? it’s no surprise i’m sipping on these sad lattes instead of something stronger. don’t get me wrong, i have friends, but they’re all busy living their lives, and i’m just here, scrolling through social media and feeling like an outsider looking in. “why do i bother?" is a question that pops into my head a lot. maybe that’s the issue - not even sure what’s next or if there's a next! it’s just exhausting trying to keep my head above water. i guess this is my moment to vent, huh? anyone else relate to this bluesy vibe? 😩
It’s been six months since I lost him; my fiancé, my rock, my future. Some days, it feels like just yesterday that we were planning our wedding, picking out flowers, and arguing about seating arrangements—something so trivial now, right? Ever since that fateful evening when his car collided with that reckless driver, I’ve found myself this lost soul wandering through life, searching for fragments of happiness. I remember the way his laughter lit up the room, and how he always had this way of pulling me into his hugs that made everything else fade away. Now, those memories, like knives, cut deep and leave me aching. I try to fill my days with distraction, pouring time into work and waiting for the hours to pass, but no matter how busy I keep myself, there’s this hollow pit in my chest that seems impossible to fill. I mean, how do you even begin to find happiness again when the person you thought you’d share your life with is gone forever? I guess I’m just wandering in this grey space, regretting the future that will never be but also attempting to find these little glimmers of joy—like when I hear a song he loved or see a couple laughing together, and it kinda makes my heart squeeze just a bit, but then it's followed by this wave of nostalgia that I can’t shake off.
But here’s the thing—amidst all this confusion, I have this flicker of hope! I’ve started to think that maybe happiness isn’t a lost cause. I mean, who says I can’t find a way to smile again? I’ve been leaning into all those little things—like the scent of fresh coffee in the morning or how the sun hits the trees just right at dusk. I even signed up for a pottery class, which feels ridiculous at times because I totally suck at it, but it’s exhilarating to be doing something totally new and messy; it reminds me that life can be imperfect and still beautiful. I mean, am I asking too much? Just to feel that simple joy again? It’s a climb, and sometimes it feels like I’m on this never-ending uphill battle, but I’m learning to embrace the process. I read somewhere that healing isn’t linear, and I’m starting to accept that it’s okay to have days when I feel like crying or days when I feel like laughing uncontrollably. Every moment is a step, whether it’s forward or backward. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly feel ‘normal’ again, but here’s hoping that, one day, I’ll wake up and feel a little less burdened, a little lighter; maybe, just maybe, the sun will shine a bit brighter on my path ahead, and I’ll find that whimsical joy again!