Life Stories and Everyday Drama

Getting the news that I had cancer felt like a punch in the gut. When the oncologist said those words, it was as if the world paused, and all I could hear was the incessant ringing in my ears. It's funny how moments like that can be so isolating, yet so communal at the same time.🎗️ Everyone knows someone who's battled this beast, yet it's always different when it's you. That feeling of being adrift in a sea of medical jargon—metastasis, chemotherapy, targeted therapy—it's overwhelming. But damn, I never pictured myself in this fight, not at this point in life. But here I am, and I guess the only way is forward; I've got to keep swinging.

Cancer treatment is a whirlwind. One moment you're being scanned head-to-toe, the tech using words like "tumor markers" and "biopsy results," and the next, you're sitting in a too-bright room with fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, getting a rundown of your treatment plan. It's like they're plotting a military operation in your own body. They, of course, mean the well-meaning medical team—the oncologists, nurses, and specialists who keep telling me I need to stay strong. Sometimes, I think to myself, "Am I supposed to be grateful or terrified?" Because right now, I'm exhausted from these pep talks and motivational quotes. Doctors might have all the knowledge in the world, but they don't know what it feels like to sit on the other side of that desk, huh?

Yeah, I get it. Positivity is the mantra. But there are days when I freaking want to scream. I want to tell someone to take their platitudes and shove them. It's not easy managing the side effects of chemo—those surprise bouts of nausea that hit like a wave, the fatigue that feels like a weight is dragging me down. It's like my body is betraying me while we're supposed to be on the same team. Every day, I pop pills with names longer than a CVS receipt, timing them between sparse meals because my appetite is like a see-saw. And let's not forget the ongoing battle with insurance—pre-authorizations and phone calls that feel like a test of endurance.

Still, I've met warriors on this path who are nothing short of inspiring. There's Jane, who lost her hair but came to every session with a smile that could light up a room. She once told me, "This is just a detour, not the end of the road." Then there's Mark, who's in remission, and he swears by his mantra, "Hope is a weapon." These interactions are grounding—they remind me that I'm not alone, even if my journey is uniquely mine. The community is a powerful thing, and sometimes a simple “how are you feeling today?” can mean more than all the medical advice combined. Have you ever experienced that magic of connection that turns strangers into comrades?

In all this chaos, there's a weird, subdued calm that settles in knowing you're doing all you can. Despite the odds and the stats that doctors rattle off, I tell myself to keep fighting; it's both a command and a plea. If life is a series of battles, this is just another one, albeit a brutal one. But it surfaces a profound question—why fight at all? Do we fight to win or out of a sheer refusal to give in? So, while I may have days when every step feels heavy, I'll endure. Not just because I'm told it's the right thing to do, but because it’s who I am—a fighter, a survivor, maybe even a champion someday. So, to anyone else staring down this path, let's keep swinging, together...

Hey its me you might have seen my earlier posts yeah... they kind of fell through so I'm now a girl and lesbian and all that yay! It's not funny but the guy you liked so much now whenever you hear his voice or watch him do something you used to thought was funny you actually feel repulsed... Anyway that's not the point of this I really want to go to a all girls academy I go to school with boys but everything else it is with girls and I sent an email and everything and hopefully they send back. I missed the main deadline but I can still apply so I'm trying...

But I don't know cause I honestly hate the school I'm at now and when I told my best friend of 5 years I wanted to move school he doesn't even care he isn't even worried none of my friends care they can make me laugh but I feel when I need something it doesn't matter to them they don't care. I literally sat at my lunch table talking to no one. No one tried to make conversation my friend said once are you okay I said I guess then I was the one who had to make the conversation. But it's not like they aren't happy there off skipping and yelling and laughing with each other I'm just the one they don't care about anymore. Yeah I guess i'll miss marching band and I wont be a section leader but honestly I will live with other girls with my own phone doing whatever I want I will finally be a cheerleader like I've always wanted to be but I didn't want to join because I hated most of the girls on the cheer team. Not all though some of them are so sweet, but most are judgmental. I will have my own phone which I have never had before I'll be able to die my hair. Have a job, wear what I want during my free time. But the school is a private school so super expensive so I'm trying to get full scholarship. Yeah sometimes I'm sad thinking about moving and everything but like if I don't get accepted I don't know what I'm gonna do. I will not be able to stand another year at this school. I wanna be accepted for who I am.

So many people at my school are homophobic, transphobic, antisemitic, (sorry I don't know if I spelled that its basically hatred and fear of Jewish people). They also make fun of people who are suicidal, they make fun of furies, not even just furies like if you like cosplay they make fun of you for that. Also my school is super poor the school is horrible, food, horrible teachers some of them are okay but... I just don't know anymore should I move schools or should I stay...

Thanks for listening!❤

i keep losing people and i know the common denominator is me. i can’t retain friends, can’t maintain the relationship lifecycle, can’t even pass the basic onboarding phase without screwing up the deliverables. i ghost when things get real. i overshare when it’s casual. i either underperform emotionally or i flood the pipeline with too much data. it’s inefficient and people churn out. that’s not me being dramatic, it’s just pattern recognition. the metrics are obvious. high initial engagement, sharp drop-off, zero retention. i suck at friendship. i don’t nurture it, don’t water it, don’t even check the soil. then i act surprised when it dies. i tell myself i prefer being alone, that independence is some kind of premium subscription, but it’s mostly ego and poor communication skills. i don’t like small talk, i don’t like constant texting, i don’t like pretending to care about things that feel trivial. but that’s part of the social contract, right? reciprocity, mutual validation, shared maintenance. i don’t comply, so the contract expires. people move on. they should. i’m not exactly a value add 😒. i get defensive fast. i interpret neutral feedback as a threat. i treat vulnerability like a security breach. then i wonder why nobody sticks around. it’s not malicious, it’s just how i’m wired. still, intent doesn’t negate impact. do you ever notice how you sabotage connections before they stabilize? or is that just me being fundamentally defective. i watch others build tight circles, group chats buzzing, weekend plans locked in, and i’m here with archived conversations and muted notifications. i can analyze it like a case study. attachment issues, poor conflict resolution, low tolerance for ambiguity. all textbook stuff. but knowing the theory doesn’t fix the execution. i fail the practical every time. and now i actually need someone. not for entertainment. not for optics. for support. real, boring, consistent support. and i have no one to call 🤷‍♂️.

i pushed everyone to the periphery because closeness felt like liability. proximity increases risk exposure. the closer someone gets, the more surface area there is for disappointment, for judgment, for abandonment. so i preemptively detach. i downgrade people from priority to optional. i delay replies. i cancel plans. i make sarcasm my primary interface. it’s not charming, it’s just rude. i know that. i see it happening in real time and still don’t interrupt the process. it’s like watching a system crash and refusing to patch it. then when i finally hit a low point, when stress spikes and the internal bandwidth collapses, i look around and there’s no redundancy, no backup server, no human failover. just me and my stupid pride. i need a friend right now and that feels pathetic to admit. not a crowd. not followers. one person. someone stable. someone who won’t interpret my silence as hostility but also won’t enable it. someone who calls me out without turning it into a performance review. is that too much to ask? or am i the unreasonable variable in every equation. i don’t blame the people who left. they optimized for their own wellbeing. that’s rational. i would’ve done the same in their position. but here’s the part that pisses me off: i actually care. i just don’t express it in a user friendly way. my empathy is clunky. my timing is off. my tone is sharp. i default to critique instead of comfort. and yeah, that makes me hard to keep around. i can admit that without self pity. this isn’t a sob story. it’s a status report. current state: isolated. root cause: poor relational management. desired outcome: one solid friend. i don’t need daily affirmation. i don’t need dramatic loyalty vows. i need consistency. shared silence. mutual respect. basic human presence. and i don’t know how to build that without eventually screwing it up again. maybe the real issue is that i treat friendship like a transaction instead of a process; maybe i expect immediate ROI instead of long term investment. either way, i’m here. blunt. aware. alone. so tell me, how do you keep people close without suffocating them or pushing them away. or do you just accept that some of us aren’t built for connection and move on.

I've been married to my husband for 20 years. That's a whopping two decades of sharing life, love, and endless bickering over the remote control. People often talk about empathy in relationships: being attuned to each other's emotions, understanding their partner's unspoken needs, and just generally being all-around mind-readers and soul-soothers. But here's the kicker—I sometimes wonder if I'm even capable of being a good partner, let alone some sort of empathic wizard.

What kind of empath am I, if at all?!?! I mean, sure, empathy isn't just about shedding a tear during a sappy movie or patting someone’s back when they're upset. It's deeper, more subtle, and hey, pretty demanding. The truth is, I’ve spent ages trying to wrap my head around it. Am I supposed to have a PhD in psychic vibes, or what??? My husband, bless his soul, always says I’ve got a knack for tuning into his feelings.

But here's the rub—I don't feel it. It's like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that refuse to fit. I don't always get when he’s mad until he’s loud enough to startle the cat. Does this mean I’m emotionally tone-deaf? I read somewhere that "true empathy involves standing in someone else's shoes." What if I'm over here wandering around barefoot because I can't find the damn shoes???

So, I'm throwing this out there—am I alone in this empathy-challenged boat? Who else is grasping for straws in the feelings department? Please tell me I’m not the worst wife on the planet. After all, we've made it this far, and that counts for something, right??? Maybe being an "empath" is overrated, or maybe I just need more hands-on training. But hey, they say awareness is the first step, right? Maybe there's hope for me yet. Stay tuned.

Hello to Every beautiful person reading this!

I would like to share the recent event of my life, which is rather disturbing for me and I'm honestly lost at the moment, not able to figure out what to do next. Please tell me what you do from your POV.

So I have a partner who is the love of my life and we have been together for like childhood hehehe, we are childhood sweethearts. Now to keep things short we are about to get married and suddenly the table has turned. My partner had a fight with one of his aunts because she was disrespecting me that she does not like me and doesn't want us to get married instead he should marry someone chosen by his family. During that fight I was obviously not present there but she called out the neighbors and basically destroyed my image, I cant expect better from a drunken divorcee women, anyways but the part that shook me and my partner was both his parents doesn't like me too and they were putting an act in front of me all these years that they like me and they have no problem with our relationship. The aunt is the real problem here because of her I have been misunderstood by everyone multiple times. GOD WHY SHE HATES ME!!! So basically my partner told me not to worry and we will live separately after marriage if they didn't approve our relationship, and now I'm feeling so bad that I don't wanna be a reason that because of me a boy left his parents and home. I seriously don't know what to do please help me and guide me here.

it has been two months since we broke up. i still think about him every day. i wake up and his name is just there in my head. i wonder if he does the same?? does he pause when he hears a song we liked?? does he look at old pictures and feel that small ache too?? i try to stay calm about it. we ended things for real reasons. we both needed space. that is a fact. but feelings do not follow rules. sometimes i replay our last talk. i ask myself if he misses my laugh or the way i made coffee too strong. is it silly to hope he thinks of me at night?? i am not angry. just curious. just human. i keep telling myself that if i still care, maybe he cares a little too;

i cannot forget him yet. that is just the truth. i go out with friends. i work. i smile. life moves. but there is this quiet space where he used to be. do you ever feel that?? like someone left but their shadow stayed?? i do not stalk him. i do not text. i respect the break. that feels mature. still, when my phone lights up, i look fast. maybe it is him!! it never is, but hope is stubborn. i think time will soften this. i believe people who shared something real do not just erase each other. maybe he wonders about me on random days. maybe he smiles at a memory and keeps walking. that idea makes me feel calm. what if he is healing too?? what if we both are growing, even apart?? i choose to see it that way. it hurts a bit, yes. but it also feels warm. like something good existed. and maybe that is enough for now.

so, here's the thing: i'm 31, living what many might consider an enviable life. i have a pretty sweet gig as a project manager at a reputable firm, the kind of job that keeps me moving, challenges my brain, and supports a lifestyle that others might dream of. but here's the kicker – despite all the successes that are supposed to fill my heart with contentment and joy, i can't help but feel like life has lost its sparkle. you know how people toss around "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy"? well, it turns out being the work-focused jack (or jill, in my case) isn't particularly fulfilling when you're coming home to an empty apartment every night. 😕

am i doing something wrong here? i mean, i spent my twenties hustling to build this career, thinking i'd eventually slide into the whole husband and kids scene like it was a given. except... i just haven't found that particular groove. how do people have it all? a fulfilling job, a loving partner who gets them, sunny mornings filled with laughter and weekend adventures with friends who feel like family. some evenings i curl up with a cup of tea, staring out the window at the bustling city below, feeling like i'm watching life happen rather than actually living it. is this some phase i'll grow out of, or is there something i'm fundamentally missing?

maybe i'm being overly dramatic here, but i've seen those aspirational quotes floating around the internet, like "life is not about waiting for the storm to pass but learning to dance in the rain." these thoughts swirl in my head while i ponder whether i'm just a part of the human race's rat race, unable to break free from the seemingly endless cycle of work, eat, sleep, repeat. i'm wrestling with the concept of how all these accomplishments seem purposeless without personal connections that truly matter. and then there's the matter of friendships—or the lack thereof. ever noticed how adult friendships are this fragile dance of juggling schedules and priorities? makes me wonder how others cement those lifelong bonds without sacrificing their aspirations.

i remind myself there's always a sliver of hope, though. i mean, life's got to be more than this, right? maybe it's time to invest some energy into meeting new people, forging authentic connections, and reminding myself that embracing change is part of the journey. perhaps the lesson here is about resilience, about finding that balance between professional success and personal satisfaction. i'm not giving up. far from it. is there a magical formula to balance career and personal life? perhaps i need to remind myself, as c.s. lewis said, "you are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." and who knows? maybe the best is yet to come. here's hoping for a future filled with more than just my career – one that radiates with warmth and genuine human connection.

I don’t know why this bothers me so much but it does. I’ll send her a message at 10:14, something simple like “hey love, how’s your day going? 😊” and I see the two little blue checks almost instantly. She’s online. She read it. And then… nothing. It just sits there. My words floating in space like I’m talking to a wall. Sometimes I scroll back and I see entire blocks of green messages from me, just me, like a full on monologue. “Did you call the plumber?” “Should we book the hotel?” “I was thinking about that thing you said yesterday…” Blue ticks. Silence. It makes me feel kinda stupid, not gonna lie. Like I’m the guy who keeps talking at a party while everyone else walked away 5 minutes ago. And I KNOW she’s busy. She works hard. She gets distracted. But why read it if you’re not going to answer? Why not wait until you can reply? Is it just me or does that feel worse somehow? 😅 I even start overthinking it. Did I say something wrong? Was my tone weird? Is she mad and not telling me? Last week I sent her this long message about how proud I was of her for handling that stressful situation at work, like really heartfelt stuff, and she saw it… and didn’t reply until 5 hours later with “thanks.” Just that. “Thanks.” I stared at that word like it was a riddle. Am I being dramatic? Probably. But when it keeps happening you start to feel invisible. I’ll send her updates about my day too, like “client meeting went well” or “I fixed that leak under the sink finally 💪” and it’s like I’m narrating my life to an audience that doesn’t clap. And yeah, sometimes she answers later, and when she does it’s normal, sweet even. But those gaps, those empty spaces, they mess with my head more than I’d like to admit.

The thing is, I love her. Deeply. She’s not cold, she’s not mean, she’s just… not glued to her phone the way I am. I grew up in this always-online culture where a read receipt feels like a promise of a reply, you know? Like if you open the door, at least say hi. She’s more old-school. She’ll call instead. She’ll talk for an hour and laugh and tell me about everything I texted her about like she stored it somewhere in her brain. And I realize she DID read it. She DID care. She just didn’t type back. Maybe I attach too much meaning to those little blue ticks. Maybe it’s my insecurity speaking. I remember one night I sent her a message saying I was feeling overwhelmed, just mentally drained. She saw it and didn’t reply for a while. I sat there thinking the worst. But when she got home she hugged me so tight and said she wanted to talk about it in person because it mattered. That hit me hard. Maybe silence doesn’t always mean indifference. Maybe sometimes it means “I’ll respond properly later.” I’m trying to change how I see it. Instead of thinking “she doesn’t care,” I’m trying to think “she’s living her life.” And honestly, I don’t want to be the guy who needs constant validation through text bubbles. I want to be secure. I want to trust the bigger picture of our marriage, not panic over one unanswered message. Have you ever felt like this? Like you’re arguing with your own thoughts over something so small but it feels huge in the moment? I’ve started sending fewer rapid-fire messages and instead waiting to talk in the evening. It’s helped. And when she DOES reply quickly, which she sometimes does, it feels like a nice surprise instead of an expectation. I’m not perfect, I still sometimes stare at my phone and think “just type something…” 😅 but I’m learning. Maybe communication isn’t just about speed, maybe it’s about consistency and love over time. And when I look at our life, the way she shows up for me in real ways, not just digital ones, I realize I’m lucky. So yeah, it still stings sometimes when someone sees your message but doesn’t reply… but maybe it’s not the end of the world. Maybe it’s just two different styles trying to meet in the middle. And I’m hopeful we’ll keep figuring it out together ❤️

Friendship problems don’t always come from fights.

Sometimes they come from success.

Or insecurity.

Or unspoken competition.

You notice it in subtle comparisons. In jokes that sting a little. In the way celebration feels slightly uncomfortable.

I used to ignore those signals. Now I don’t. Patterns matter. Whether it’s in people or in logic puzzles, repetition tells you something.

If a friendship constantly leaves you second-guessing yourself, that’s a pattern too. And you don’t have to keep solving the same grid if it keeps erasing you.

Anyway, this whole thought spiral just reminded me I still have two unfinished Sudoku Noir puzzles from Copper Clues waiting on my desk. Might as well complete something that actually wants to be solved.

So over the last couple of months me and an ex friend have had a falling out, we were friends for a couple of years in work and we fell out over something very silly and small and not worth falling out over but my ex friend made it in to the biggest thing and since then she has made my life miserable in work. Yesterday I tried to hold out a lifeline and make up to her because yesterday was the last straw and I decided to tell her that the way she talked to me wasn't on. Well she has blamed me over the friendship breaking down, that she has covered for me over things that I don't even know that I have done wrong, that I have argued with her even though she has argued back and the thing I 'argued' over was something that I wasn't going to agree with her anyway cause I like to keep my routine as it is. And other things that she has put it on me. Don't get me wrong I know I am not perfect and I do things that annoy others but to me they aren't things to fall out over. And she has done a lot of things as well so it's definitely not all one way. But basically she doesn't want to be my friend anymore and today she literally couldn't be in the same area as me not matter the same room.

My survival instincts are good! This "anxiety" is really just me keeping safe. I don't get why others don't act like this. When so many things go wrong or you see so many movies that are "relatable" go wrong, "best case" becomes "best lie". It's what my thoughts tell me. My period cramps now feel worse and I feel more rapid heart-beating, but really, it's not a panic attack, it's just deep focus. No adult would be that nice, especially in events like MEFCC where you expect older people. No way they'd be so nice. They'd all probably politely tell me no for a photo but do it with someone else. It's possible. school, the exams, the marks, the resume, my ranking, my future, my potential husband, my future career, my lack of skills, my dumbness, my ugliness, my friendlessness, the million things that could go super wrong with evidence to support it!? Are they not real?! I'm not capable, I'm stupid. Then one day, I'll wear a bikini showing my belly hair even though I wax my arms and legs every 4 months (my hair grows back kinda slow after waxing) even though I don't feel safe wearing them but I did it anyways because other girls did it in some random pool party I get invited to by the cool girls until they take photos of me and post it on their Instagram group because they secretly despise me. The girls in my class may "accidentally" ignore me and act all nice and sweet and acknowledging, I don't trust people, they can be hiding stuff. I know this from watching "Eighth Grade", that movie was...something. Even though I was 6 in 2018, it doesn't matter. Apparently the 13 experience is real! Every kid thinks like me, they all plan and think about potential life issues. I may get cancer somehow even though nobody in the family struggled, maybe some ancestral gene kicked in to do that. Many people say that movie was relatable, and while I can't remember most of it, it's bound to happen! My parents will be like the ones in movies confused with technology or my hyper-fixations, even though unlike the tropes they know computer and tech well because they're engineers (I never understood that trope growing up) and mom works in a media company and when dad's in the mood, he'll talk about a cool non-fiction book he read about war or murder cases or philosophy or memoirs. "Awkward" becomes "awful" when you know deep down your worth in the grand scheme of things is 0. I only matter to my family because of mammalian instinct, not love. I was wrong about stuff like whales, they don't love, they just raise them. If I score low, if I look so ugly in MEFCC no grown cosplayer would wanna take a photo with me even with permission, where no matter after the next 7 years I'm still alone, I work as an accountant or back-breaking fry cook instead of even a marine biologist because that's actually still a cool job that's more practical, I'll just be a golly joke in the grand scheme of life.

Sometimes people hate people for no reason. My parents are probably doing this because they're like every other parent of nerds, give up and only tolerate it because their kid doesn't listen when they hear "Anime is bad!" or "Read real books!" or "Japanese are weird!" Dad may say a few things like, "Japanese work culture sucks" or "Why don't you read more non-fiction books?" but he doesn't force it, he should. "Kindness" is when someone says yes to make you happy, not because they enjoy it. Dad may have opted out from watching JoJo, but mom continues, claims her favorite of Part 1 is Speedwagon, and she still chooses to watch with me. How weird is that!? Also, since the world is so mean and hostile, I've heard of transgressive art. Since I draw, how about I skip trying to be cool like Araki and do the shocking, disturbing and gory or s-xual stuff to show my anger, like how other people vent. I may regret it in the long run since it isn't me, but apparently according to many movies I watched which are coming-of-age, what is "you" at 13? So, maybe "you" can be super angry, open about your violent ideas and opinions, draw nasty stuff, and I don't know, what do artists who vent draw? I end up drawing my favorite characters or my own characters or crafting, but I don't know, to be truly soothed, should you draw the "art of transgression"? I've seen artists draw p-do art or intense gore or nudity or characters uh...doing IT, and again, I'll regret it very badly because it's in my art book, MY BOOK, but to be fair, many other kids do it, many ADULTS do it and they get sold for millions or talked about, isn't transgressive art true venting?

What even is self-betrayal at 13, when you don't know who you are? What if I'm doing this because my family or the law says no, what if the edgy artists do this because they realized they have free will? What if "I'm uncomfortable with this" is really just "I'm scared of what others think?" Many people draw shocking stuff to show the world how much they hate something, themselves, the President, the global warming, genocide, r-pe, whatever. That's why looking at "negative" stuff like wars, water shortage, death, genocide, r-pe, murder, corruption, is really just waking up, even if you feel like when you live next year, you're just lucky to be alive, and you find it harder everyday to believe you're alive. Who knows? Maybe the donations on McDonald's app or Noon delivery is fake, maybe Red Crescent Society is secretly corrupt and steals money under the guise of "charity"! Maybe the 1-5AED donation is not enough! Who knows! I can't just draw fanart or my characters forever, it contributes nothing! I contribute nothing. What does Joseph Joestar contribute, he's dumb, he's fictional and he's dumb! What does drawing Speedwagon, Joseph, Jotaro, my characters, what do they do to help the dying kids in Gaza? I bet those kids if they saw me, they'd think I'm an insult because I'm out here drawing while they're out here drowning! I'm not depressed or anxious, I'm aware! Those Gaza kids will want ME dead! I DESERVE TO DIE. MY LIFE IS WORTHLESS. I'M FUCKING WORTHLESS. I NEED TO FUCK MYSELF FIRST BY HAVING SEX WITH A CHILD MOLESTER FOR GOOD MEASURE BECAUSE MY PUSSY IS WORTHLESS, TOO! I CAN'T CONTRIBUTE ANYTHING BECAUSE I'M A FUCKING SLUTTY CUNT

As a non-drinker, I find myself continually baffled by the allure that alcohol holds for so many individuals, especially when I observe the impact it has had on my wife. It's bewildering to witness her unwavering fondness for this intoxicating liquid that seemingly grips her consciousness and distorts her perception of reality. It's like watching someone willingly choose to engage in something those unaware of see little logic in. Isn't it strange how some people ardently pursue a substance that, upon closer inspection, often results in more harm than good? My wife partakes in alcohol with a fervent passion that borders on obsession; her consumption levels are, without a shadow of a doubt, excessive. The societal norm of relaxing at the end of a tiresome day with a drink in hand doesn't seem to just relax her but rather amplifies her reliance on this habit, creating a vicious cycle that's worrisome for someone who would prefer to be a bystander. Could it possibly be the taste itself that intrigues people, or is it the transient escape from reality that alcohol promises with its consumption? These are questions I've pondered.

Reflecting on countless discussions, or perhaps one-sided pleadings, it seems clear that alcohol holds a multifaceted appeal—one that stimulates the senses while concurrently clouding judgment. My wife insists that her affinity for alcohol is merely a "social lubricant," a phrase often repeated yet confounding in its implication that engaging normally in social undertakings requires chemical aid. Why the constant need to tread the fine line between composure and chaos? It's astonishing to witness its glorification, how individuals believe in its magical ability to conjure merriment and engagement in conviviality. While society lauds drinking culture, shrouded in artful advertisements painting rosy pictures of leisure, the reality is often starkly different, especially when you live with someone who indiscriminately embraces it. As a mere observer, I've seen academic studies and reports cite the dangerous repercussions alcohol can have—not just physically but also psychologically. Despite having access to such empirical evidence, even my earnest attempts to share these findings often culminate in a dismissive chuckle or an affirmation that it’s merely "blowing off steam." But then again, would someone really change a habit based on another's detached understanding? It's clear that more substantive engagement is often required to precipitate true change. Is it ultimately the camaraderie and shared experiences attributed to drinking that bind people so tightly to this substance, or is there something deeper ingrained in human fabric that draws them to it?

Of course it being my 2nd year old highschool I’m aware of everyone’s clothes. Now idk if this is gonna hit the target audience but I need help with shoes and clothes. I have a good style, sandwich method everyday lol.. but anyways any sites that are good or stores. For shoes I’m stuck, I need shoes that match everything, but I want a cycle of shoes yk? To help, my style is between streetwear, the baggy clothes, 2000s, and Stockholm. A lot. Yeah. But I shop SHEIN, Charlotte Russe and more. A while ago I came across zumiez, it’s cool got some jeans from there. I wish I can add images here for a good example but yeah. I need help 🥲🫩..

Yo! So, I'm 22 and my friend hits me up with this whole "30 day self care challenge" thing. She's like, "Girl, you gotta try this! It's life-changing!" 🙄 And I'm just sitting here thinking, really? Is it all that?? Has anyone else dared to try this? I'm genuinely curious, peeps! Like, do these challenges even work, or is it just another overhyped trend? I mean, sure, taking care of yourself is important, but is doing it for 30 days straight gonna magically change everything? 🤔 Anyone care to share their experiences? Did it help in making life less of a mess? Any tips or hacks from those who've survived it, please??? 😅

You know, I'm kinda hoping this isn’t just an Instagram-worthy illusion. If you’ve done it, what was the best part? Is it more than just bubble baths and face masks? Don't get me wrong, those are awesome, but surely there's more to self-care? 🤷‍♀️ Help a girl out!!! Would love some lowdown on stuff that doesn't just pad calendars but actually works! Like, what do you do when the motivation is in the gutter? Any specific "must try" days? Spill the tea, fam!!! ✨ Looking for those nuggets of hope and positivity. Because, hey, life's too short to play a guessing game with self-care. Am I just overthinking it, or is there something more profound here? Hit me up with all the good stuff – quotes, routines, wisdom – whatever!! Who else is ready to slay and take some quality 'me time' seriously? Let’s make our lives better together, yeah?? 💪❤️

discovering my husband's infidelity has left me in an emotional quagmire. i'm a 51-year-old woman who thought she'd seen it all. yet here i am, blindsided by betrayal. it's like being shocked awake from a pleasant dream into a cold and harsh reality. my heart feels like it's been shattered into a million little pieces, and all logic dictates that tears should be streaming down my face. but nothing happens. why can't i cry when i want to??? i wonder, silently questioning my emotional resilience—or lack thereof. isn't it human to express sorrow this way?

i know that confronting him would be tempestuous and I plan to ask for a divorce. but this sense of numbness is troubling me deeply. does the body go on some kind of emotional strike when it senses too much despair, i wonder??? i don't know whether my mental faculties have succumbed to denial, or if i've simply exhausted my pool of tears over the years. you ever been so overwhelmed that it leaves you emotionally disabled???, because that's exactly my predicament. it's perplexing, yet i'm strangely calm—emotionally marooned, you could say. like, is this self-preservation or am i just disconnected from reality???

i think as years go by, resilience builds like a fortress around one's heart. but what happens when you wish it wouldn't??? paradoxically, this emotional detachment offers a semblance of peace. it's a buffer from the soul-crushing reality of deceit and broken vows. each day, i mechanically go through the motions—answer emails, make dinner, and converse with acquaintances. all the while, this unfelt sorrow hangs over me like a dense fog. somewhere inside, a quiet desperation lurks, wishing to feel an emotional release. isn't it ironic??? maybe i’m subconsciously reprogrammed to withstand intense heartache.

anyways, maybe you think crying would ease the burden. seems logical right??? shedding tears offers solace and, for many, it's a healing way to combat relationship trauma. it's also a pathway to finally be free to walk away from this mess. yet, here i am, staring blankly at an unmoved reflection, asking the mirror why it refuses to break. aren't emotions meant to betray you, exposing your inner turmoil??? when words elude me, i am left pondering and questioning, in search of answers that this stoic heart of mine refuses to give. is it a form of self-punishment or a pitstop on the way to acceptance? only time will unravel the tangled web of emotions that fate has so cruelly woven for me. 🤷