Life Stories and Everyday Drama

I'm 16 now. I forgot all about Kanye and many other situationships. I have a boyfriend now. Nick and I have been together for 9 months now. He kinda gives me a reason to live. We don't argue much, we can't actually start arguments anyway. But when either of us is down or feeling tired of everything, we sort it out. Many times when I fought with my dad and aunt, i would hide in the small living room that's no longer used in my aunt's floor. I'd lock myself up and call him. He always eased me. Sometimes in the past, we had a lot of miscommunication. Mostly because he saw our future while i couldn't see my own. He'd say stuff like "don't say that" or "I won't let you". It never really solved it. He has that habit now too. But I want to believe I've talked him out of it. I still fight with my dad a lot. But now, it's politics too. And religion. Because genuinely, I'm tired of the church he brings us to. It feels like a cult. And all of the words they say contradict each one. Yet some have some ground to them. Like goverment hating us all. The political parties just being a cover up so monsters with no brain can hide under red maga hats. But the all loving God? How is he all loving if he "hates lgtbq", "hates immigrants", "hates different religions", "hates sinners"? I'm pansexual but I've only come out to a few friends and my boyfriend. So, the God I'm supposed to pray and ask for help hates me? Interesting point. Very interesting. Makes me believe that Satan was treated absolutely unfair. What? Not my fault the church is not really God and it's actually men who would rather have me a sex worker than a scientist. Whatever. The point is; Everything still tires me to the bone. I'm tired. Of pretending I like things. I hate the system. I hate the God that men have shown. I hate the goverment. I hate people who think violence is an answer to someone being different, whether it is skin tone, sexual preference or just fashion style. I hate people who think they know it all but aren't trying to see a point from all views. I hate how the victims are getting blamed while the abusers and rapists are walking free and are having good lives. I hate how sensitive I get over things around me. But am I really the sensitive one if nobody has empathy and sympathy in this day and age? How are you expecting me to think of my future and enter a society that hates me and would rather have me killed than see me walking on the street? Guess what, I don't have a future at this point. All I will see and hear is that the work I want to study and do for the rest of my life, which is chemical engineering, is not somethjing for me. Very few teachers believe that I'll actually get that job. Not just because the system won't let me, but also because I'm a woman. And a gifted one too. I ace school tests and exams like I'm playing a game. My teacher who does extra lessons to me for physics and chemistry so i can be ahead of people says he has seen brains like mine once in two decades. Maybe I sound egoistic. But shouldn't I be considering that I know what I can do but won't be able to do because of the damned stereotypes the whole world seems to hold onto for dear life? Anyway, that's mostly it I believe. Suicide still hasn't left my mind, it never did but whatever. My dad still doesn't treat it like I do but that's also never changed. The rest of the other vent is still the same. I just have Nick now being the best boyfriend ever and giving me hope everytime I fall. Love you all and thank you for sharing your points in the last vent. I did read them even though i didn't reply. Thank you all for caring.

Hi everyone! I know this is a long shot, but if anyone is kind enough to help me with $50, I would be incredibly grateful. It would really help me out right now. Thank you so much for your kindness and consideration. ❤️

It's been difficult as of late. So many struggles. Another one of mine, one that sort of brick walls me- is the loss of my Fiancee. We'd met when she was a receptionist at my doctor's office. She was gorgeous, witty, intelligent. A passion for music, and travel. A wandering soul like me. She soothed me, and gave her all to me, and we shared some of the finest and most tender moments of my life.

Things were difficult for her growing up, like myself. And, well, I can attest to what happens when you spend too much time running from old haunts. It's no easy task, especially for certain types of PTSD. We'd both come from violent families. I dealt with it my way, but for her, she drank. She wasn't like that at first. It was a gradual decline. I tried everything. For a year and a bit I worked 3 jobs to support us as she began to withdraw more and more. It broke my heart, and still does. I tried to get her family, the ones who were good and normal, to help me get her into rehab. She wasn't ready, I guess..

Eventually things got to the point she began to get very bad. Sometimes she'd throw stuff at me, yknow, she'd had flashbacks like I would. It's hard to hold it against her. I often wonder what I could have done better. We ended up splitting up for a year, and she began to slowly crawl out of that life. She finally began to get better, and then I lost her. Car accident. She was 23.

That was in 2022. We were together 4 years. She was my precious love. All this time later I haven't even visited her grave.. I can't. I can't do it. Her sister, she's very sweet, often checks on me, and we reminisce of Her. She asked me if I'd be looking into dating again. I confessed, it's difficult. I still think of Her. She understands. And, as time has gone on, my pals or my brother asks: When are you going to try and date again?

Not to rush me, but, I guess they thought by now, I'd try again. I was the best version of me, with Her. I cooked, I cleaned, I was spontaneous and always had a surprise trip, or something. We shared a garden, it was beautiful. We grew tomatoes and berries, cabbage. Fuck, what a woman. Truly special. I think I'd like to try and date again, but I'm nervous. I'm scared of losing someone like that again. I was a complete mess after she died for like, two years, just absolutely fucking destroyed. I've chatted to some gals, but I can't seem to do more. I mean I'm not one to hook up, that's not my style, but even going on dates, I just feel scared to be hurt. Strange no? Maybe? Ahh, what do I know

there's this guy im very attached to and like. But things ended like 2 years ago and i still miss him at times and feel like im going crazy all the time cuz hes in my head 24/7 which is very annoying. I have tried literally everything from no contact to no stalking and everything but after a few months i end up having crash outs from feeling loneliness and just missing him. That guy has zero interest in me. Doesnt want me. I feel like i might move on if i were to date someone else but i dont wanna date right now i just wanna focus on myself and live my life. And maybe look for a partner when i want to settle down or get married. What do i do. This guy that i really really like what do i do about it now. He ghosts me avoids me but i just wished he would block me instead of just ghosting. And kind of everything that happened between us broke me so much i dont think i'll ever even wanna be in a relationship ever again.

It's outrageous that he's working with my former boss. In my opinion, he holds the title, but I no longer see him as a boss because he's doing his own thing. I don't see it as a position that limits my work at the company, but rather as one that only gives directions and sticks to them as far as they can, which is the very definition of a boss, formally speaking. Unlike other bosses, who go beyond that, they maintain their boundaries, but you can see that desire to push beyond them, like everyone else. However, that's not the case with this crook. I feel that I'm the one who should be dealing with him, in support of everyone, so as not to give him the impression that he's being sidelined, or at least give him some leeway so that the rest of us don't become blinded as a team. I have no other choice. At least what I have to do, which is answering emails, isn't exhaustive, but I'm the one who has to keep the group going right now, and otherwise, we'll fall apart. I'm tired of having to shoulder his responsibility, because it's clear he's not focused on work, but on anything else that isn't. I live under the constant pressure to preserve his image, no matter what, because otherwise he wouldn't know how to defend himself. He always needs to be at the mercy of whatever he can defend, because going further, getting involved, is something he couldn't do; it would show he's involved in something outside himself. In this sense, he's a difficult person to deal with, because he chooses an image that relies on being nowhere, and because of this, he ends up dominating everyone, of course, out of fear of privacy, of course, out of fear that it will lead to conflict.

This kind of person isn't someone I like, and I feel like he takes away time from doing my own things, from seeing everything from a more holistic point of view. I feel like it makes it hard to write, that he annoys me in general. In fact, I'm writing right now and I don't feel like it precisely because I feel like this guy is a burden, and I wish it weren't so. I even feel like I'm running out of words and I'm searching everywhere for the strength to keep writing the way I like. With him there, it feels more complicated; I have to think more. I don't feel capable of expressing myself freely, or practicing that freedom, because it drains my energy. I miss my freedom, but despite that, I feel that he's not the obstacle right now; rather, he wasn't the obstacle in the first place.

I've been noticing that as I write, I'm opening doors to a world, one I didn't know before, where danger doesn't reign in any way. I feel like things are going better for me with the girl I'm currently in a group with because I feel like I can go out into the world with complete confidence. I feel like I can say I have a group to start out with, unlike the one at home, which is more of an exclusionary act than anything else—a constant test of whether or not anyone is being abandoned. This makes us very observant of our surroundings and eager to escape them at all costs, because we don't like being constantly tested. We're always prejudiced against falling into the wrong hands or something like that, precisely because our own families shaped us and made us face off against other family members, forming factions. In fact, their way of living with us is based on these tests, which always seem insufficient. I feel that deep down, both this girl and I hate our families because of the deep-seated distrust that's masked by those who do favors and, in my case, abandon me completely. For my part, I had to hold everyone accountable, making them directly responsible, by providing evidence of their wrongdoing towards me, so that I could be free and at peace. At least now I have a relationship with my father where we both feel like equals, as it should always have been, by God, a relationship where each of us has our own life, can excuse the other's mistakes, but without compromising the other's quality of life, thus creating a middle ground.

I've always said, and I was reflecting on this a little while ago, that being with my father somehow made me accept all my other relationships. Before, it was about each of us having the space we wanted from the other; now it's about negotiating space, and that's what I'm discussing with my girlfriend. It's about each of us having our own life, but also being able to coexist with the other because there's something that connects us, whether we like it or not. I could apply these same words to my father, but they make me want other experiences just to achieve absolute solitude, where I wouldn't have to be part of any group.

Despite everything, going it alone seems counterproductive, given that I operate on principles that challenge the culture, confront it head-on, and prevent me from offering clear defenses. Instead, I have to maneuver until I manage to escape, meaning waiting for things to happen, not knowing when to step in, until they do, to prevent my silence from being used against me. This was something this boss abused a lot in the beginning, until I managed to get him to leave. It's striking to see how, the last time I went to the office—it was a meeting, a party—he ended up completely broken, totally detached from the office group, out of place, focused on his own needs and seeking satisfaction through others. That extreme work ethic and his lack of presence, his mind elsewhere, clearly showing that he wasn't there; he was completely shattered.

I'm fed up with writing down everything I think. I don't like it because I'm always thinking, and it makes me afraid of thinking. I feel like I'm not writing in my usual concise way, and I'm relying on digital media to stay in tune with what's happening to me, to at least feel like I'm doing something meaningful with my thoughts, instead of just getting stuck there. This could also be used to be rebellious, which I don't want. For some time now, I've noticed I'm trying to understand my life more deeply. Currently, in my office group, I'm with a group of women who were against my boss. He took me in, even though he'd been trying to get me close for a while. I saw them as a way, I think, to make the group stand out socially, which isn't exactly easy to get in the office for fear of being targeted. With me, tricks are met with reprisals in that environment, given that I'm prone to them if you consider the possible connection between their public image and their own. That's why I represent security to them, and for me, the possibility of giving them affection. Of course, everything had to originate with my friend, who was the most withdrawn of all there, for that to happen. She wanted to show that her group was different, different from her, who was reserved, but that doesn't mean she should be abandoned. It doesn't imply possessiveness; quite the opposite. She fosters empathy so that I don't stray from her own image because she knows what it's like to be in that situation of expressing feelings and stepping outside of who she is. Initially, it's something difficult to maintain because people even resort to lies to survive. She needs it, and I'm not justifying her actions, but I must explain the mechanism because, whether we like it or not, we succumb to the effects of prejudice.

Everyone in that office has a tremendous fear of prejudice. I'm so tired of writing so much; it almost makes me want to stop moving around and just close my eyes forever—not in the sense of committing suicide. I write down everything I experience, and it's getting to me because there will always be things to write about. I feel chained down, I admit it.

why can't I do anything?! i'm 33, a man who's just been completely blindsided by my wife's treacherous act. we recently bought this older house together, thinking we'd fix it up... it was supposed to be our big project, you know? how things change! well, scratch that... it's MY project now because she decided to screw around and leave me high and dry with our daughter!!! instead of the two of us working on getting this place livable, it's just me struggling alone.

so here i am stuck holding DIY catalogs trying to figure out how to install drywall while coping with this emotional dumpster fire. gotta plaster those walls while managing a toddler...just fan-frickin-tastic. sometimes I feel like I'm gonna lose it completely! weekends were supposed to be about planning some backsplash together or laying new tiles: now they’re about me halfheartedly attempting repair jobs I didn't sign up for solo!!! people kept talking about bittersweet stuff when it comes to homeownership... sure never imagined THIS flavor before.

depression hangs over everything like these stupid hanging wires poking out from incomplete wall sockets. how can I focus on sanding floors when all i want is pull into bed forever? friends say 'take a break', but guess what folks: deadlines aren't optional when you've got nowhere else livable... and bills pile faster than dustbunnies without focus too 😩 hearing quotes thrown casually like 'time heals wounds' doesn't help better insulation achieve itself either!

but hey... it isn’t all gloom though (i swear)! whatever monsters lurk inside these four dilapidated walls get an equal measure back again someday: the satisfaction plantin' fresh veggies next springside kitchen window OR seeing neighbors cruise past admiring completed patchwork exterior towers above any temporary chaos easily dwarfed from personal cloud storms (ending deluge) eventually giving way once dark clouds pass proving resilience even through rough patches.

hey, just wanted to vent here for a bit. I've been struggling with this whole tattoo thing lately, and it's kinda driving me nuts. So I got this tattoo a while back, right? It was something super meaningful to me at the time, like a reminder of my own strength or whatever. 😅 But now I'm hearing all these people talking about how tattoos are like scars. Like they think it means you're covering up self-harm. And man, that really bugs me!

I never thought of it that way before. To me, tattoos are art; they're personal stories inked on skin. but now there's this little voice in my head wondering if maybe they're right? Is there something wrong with me for wanting to express myself like this? It's not like I got the tattoo because I'm hiding anything...or am I? It's been making me second guess everything, which is exhausting.

I know everyone sees things differently (which is cool), but it's just so frustrating when you start doubting your choices based on someone else's perspective. My cousin even said 'a tattoo's permanent' as if I didn't already know that! 🙄 Anyway, what do y'all think? Do you ever look at someone's tattoo and immediately jump to conclusions about their mental state? Or is it just a personal preference kind of deal?

So I stopped in at a restaurant to eat and around the corner comes this guy with makeup on, a deep gravely rumbly voice like butter and from the moment we locked eyes, neither one of us could stop smiling. He was even dancing around the restaurant when certain songs came on and pointing at me and winking at times. I was too scared to ask him for any contact info or to be friends because I'm in between jobs at the moment and don't have an active phone right now and didn't want to be too embarrassed. I kinda wish it wouldn't be too creepy to see if I could find him online and ask if he wants to be friends. He was cute as hell and had a style that I definitely loved. I feel like he would be a great friend if anything.

I'm so fed up with the office. I can't stand it anymore, I don't want anything to do with it. Everyone there treats me like an animal, everything is done through gestures and other things. There's no respect for me as a person, I don't feel treated like another human being, but like a freak. I'm angry because a story I wanted published hasn't been published yet, a story where I had something to say and I want it to be brought to light somehow, how tedious. I can't stand my boss, I can't stand any of the people there. I hate being treated like a child, when I'm not a child. Why am I the one who has to have feelings there? In the middle of that cold environment, receiving trivialities, when I should be getting shut down like what happened at home—it happened that in the other story I talked about an encounter where my sister and I acted out one of the sex scenes from movies, because my parents watched it a lot, and because of that I was blamed and then it was established that I was a sexual predator or something like that. I'm fed up. My boss lived for me, expecting me to put up with his ways, his negligence, just like my secretary did. He wanted me to accept his whims and what he couldn't do, and I wasn't going to put up with that. He wanted me to keep quiet about it all, and I wasn't going to be in that position. I hope they publish that story; I needed to say it. I checked again, and it was published, which I'm grateful for.

They blocked me on an app because, according to them, I posted sexual content. I explained the situation to my sister, in such a general way that it was really to prevent that accusation, but she still got blocked, and I don't know if that was the reason. I'm tired of being silent in that office, of never being able to say anything. I hope, for God's sake, that they don't expect me to speak well of everyone outside; that would be the height of their control. I can never even express myself to my father. It can't be that my reflection is confined to websites and not my own town, although it makes some sense: If my town chooses a language of terms they haven't explored at their own pace of life, naturally, the prevailing language will be one where mine can't be received, in any way, because they won't empathize with that use of experience, with what they call venting, because they'll think I'm out of control. In fact, in my town, faced with that, the usual approach is to detach oneself from the circumstances; my mother used to base her actions on that. In my family, there was a tendency to see caring for the family as caring for one's image; in fact, my father operated that way until he reached a point where he himself had to step aside, because it was coming across terribly, and that's not what defines family support.

The country where I am now consists of enforcing social controls. My boss is the kind of guy who thrives on keeping others under control, on keeping them on the right track—that's what he calls groups, for God's sake. It's living with the constant anxiety that the world, for some reason, could collapse, his carefully constructed social circle, which is really just an unstructured effort to build a network that always tends to crumble with time. In fact, life itself becomes the enemy, if we're honest. I needed my sister's story to be made public, no matter what. I needed to say it, to express that the accusation that he was a rapist wasn't true, not at all, and I wanted the world to know. Because at home, when I was scolded after the incident that led to their prejudice, no one asked me anything; they just assumed. And in fact, it all started as gossip. That's why I don't speak to my mother, or at least not very often. However, for her, that doesn't count as a reason, because for her, I only did what she thought was right. In other words, for her, acting according to her own beliefs is enough to forgive me, because, she justifies it, he did the same thing with her mother. What a disastrous family, for God's sake.

I'm eternally grateful that I left the group I was in at the office. My boss was always on the lookout for any way to get in the way of his plans with me, trying to influence even my family, just like he did with his secretary. All in an effort to keep everything under his control, because he couldn't manage his own life; he needed someone else to support him. Hence the "the more the merrier" mentality, hence the idea that anyone who didn't support him should be discarded, or else he'd keep them cornered through gossip and threats of consequences. The truth is, he was a truly macabre type, pretending to be a saint, but I was already prepared for someone like him. I make a living by striving for an independent profile through constant development; hence, my relationships, where I occupy a position of being detached from the other person's life and focused on seeking a pleasant and considerate encounter, given the nuance of the details achieved thanks to our history, are the most formidable for me.

At the same time, these relationships lead to constant reflection, which is almost a form of self-imposed pressure, given that I don't have people in other parts of my life to support me, although I know how to support myself when they are present. Thanks to these relationships, I've learned to navigate socially effectively, since I've delved into the various ways of being alone that society itself offers, and which are precisely what apps provide. However, I can't tell anyone about this because in my country, we live by embracing what we know and what we don't, suspecting it to the extent that there is a difference under some condition that determines a distance, inherent to the nature of the subject. That's how things started at the office with a girl who I thought had autism, without any medical report to that effect, without questioning it; in fact, they accepted it simply because my boss and the secretary said so, just like that. I remember that this girl once told me that I was highly sensitive, without having fully understood me, hence her deduction.

I remember once raising this issue with my boss, as a complaint, and he simply tried to escape by making me look bad, so that he wouldn't be seen as someone who could say whatever he wanted—in other words, so that the focus would be on me and not on him. It's incredible the number of ways this guy has found to keep doing what he likes, no matter what, at my expense, making sure I can't complain, precisely because the consequences of clarifying things are worse due to prejudice. That's his game with others. It's unbelievable that I'm creating these diagrams outside the office, on a website, and expressing them to people I don't know. It seems incredible to me. However, this shows that the office isn't a welcoming place for me, despite its intentions, and it never should be, unless it's by a qualified professional, whom, in my experience, I'm afraid to trust. Even among psychologists, there's a lack of respect for adhering to a specific scientific approach, such as behaviorism, at the expense of prejudice. The game is far too unfortunate.

The game of prejudice in the streets is very harsh, far too radical, because once the issue is set in motion, there are points where it can't go any further, and that's why people pay the price. Truth isn't the priority; suspicion prevails, and events are what cause the issue to shift, without any regard for evidence. There's no discrimination in criminal law. I live in a country where, therefore, mobility must be determined by others, not by my freedom as defined by the law, although there are times when it is, but those are decisions made by individuals, not by the law itself. Instead of the law prevailing in terms of practical application to improve it, the will of the people prevails, turning the law into a smokescreen or a game of impositions.

It's a shame my boss built his entire life on staying where he wanted, doing whatever he pleased, but those days are over because I exposed him.

I'm tired of the office. How is it possible that they have access to the cell phone of the girl I like, and I don't? How is it possible that I, who always helped her, get all the benefits that I don't? Benefits that I so richly deserve... The most unpleasant thing is finding out how everyone, in the middle of an emergency, can do as they please, go to her whenever they want, and even receive congratulations—a total hypocrite, despicable, and even humiliating, for God's sake. Recently, the girl's family member's death was announced in the WhatsApp group chat, and all the authorities called her, and everyone was concerned. After finding out that everyone could contact her, but I couldn't, I have absolutely no desire to wish her well or peace of mind. This whole time, I've felt completely ignored. Everyone is fine with her, but I can't. Everyone is fine with her, but I, even though I was the one who acted in good faith with her at the beginning. The worst part is that I complained once about a similar health issue, and all she did was put on a brave face to pretend she wasn't ignoring me, just like she did with that other situation she posted in the group, by the way. I'm fed up with trying to understand her; I don't want to keep justifying her. In the middle of all this, I'm the one paying the price. She receives everyone's affection, everyone else receives her affection, while I'm barely there with her, half-heartedly, without any recognition, keeping my mouth shut because people don't understand my situation, and on top of that, I've been cut off from my work group, to the point where I don't really have a work group anymore, just a fictitious one, the one created by the bureaucracy. My boss is also being persecuted at every turn. I'm completely alone in this, even though people are supporting me. In these circumstances, no one will do anything about it; I'm totally helpless, on the lookout, all because I let myself be led astray by this girl, chasing after miserable crumbs of bread—though, I must admit, they are quite prominent.

It hasn't been easy for me to act like nothing's wrong, I admit it, to always act as if nothing ever happened between us, as if nothing hurts. It's painful that I have to resort to online platforms to express what I feel. I haven't had any facial expressions in a long time, just vague, almost imperceptible ones. I'm honest, I abide by the law and the rules, but I don't possess any kind of impulsiveness; I feel completely numb. I have relationships that make me feel like I'm not involved in anything because that's precisely my place within them, and I have to let myself be carried along, always mindful of their circumstances while remaining completely open to whatever comes, regardless of what I'm going through. Of course, I follow the same dynamic I experienced with my parents, with the safeguard that I have time to think, to reaffirm myself, and to act within limitations and move around them. Ultimately, at least in these relationships, this unwritten rule is followed no matter what, without exception. This contrasts with other relationships where things aren't like that, where I occupy a place in their lives so deeply that they even consider me an object. I prefer to distance myself from those because they offer me a freedom that, according to them, is inherent. In these other relationships, the freedom of being in the middle of nowhere is precisely what allows me to build myself up in the world, to construct my freedom with discernment.

I can't tell anyone about any of this. I have to go through this alone, completely alone, at my own mercy, with no one else around. Not even my father can be there for me, and I don't trust the psychologists in my town to help me either. They talk about how they'll help me, but it's just a promise they don't even know they'll keep. In fact, the times I've asked for help, I've felt completely trapped, even though I'm in a highly sensitive state. I don't want to know anything more about these relationships, about being in nothing. I can't. It overwhelms me, it's exhausting, I feel like I can't take it anymore. I can't believe they're living off my lack of brutal reaction, even though I haven't made the biggest scenes. I mean, I can't believe I've lived with these relationships all this time pretending nothing affected me when it does. It does affect me. I can't believe I've lived with it all because I couldn't express what I felt to anyone. However, I don't think anyone will notice, not even in the office, because everyone expects me to remain calm and composed. That's my persona, and it always translates into a kind of omnipotence in the face of adversity. Of course, I don't want their support in any way, because all they'll do is control me through manipulation. That's how the psychologists in my town operate, and I'm fed up with it.

I'd be capable of breaking a thousand things, but I can't. It's a disgrace to work in the office with someone I hate.

Something else happened. After how this girl in the office treated me, the bosses came to her aid in the emergency. No one helped me, while I was suffocating under the circumstances, absolutely no one. I had to deal with the girl and my work group, all at the same time and at the expense of everyone else's limitations, all in the name of keeping things under control. No one did anything, and even my department head opposed the situation, as did the girl. Everyone opposed my well-being because, according to them, I could handle it, based on the idea that being alone would cause this problem. I needed as much respite as possible, which is why I chose the girl and her office group, who gave me some breathing room, over my boss, who always kept me cornered. I needed air in my workspace and comfort in my dealings with her, in terms of how she acted as a faithful representative to the outside world.

I'm not going to confide my feelings to them or anyone else, because in my community, it's seen as an object to be manipulated based on frameworks that aren't one's own, frameworks they consider universal, but which aren't. This is all done to tolerate the guidance, to be channeled, because everything is based on how they see me and according to their perspective, without taking me into account. I'm fed up with going over the situation again and again, but I have to admit that it allows me to have a holistic view of everything that has happened and the present, and that's the idea: the more discernment, the better, especially when it comes to these relationships where you're not really involved in anything. These relationships aren't common, at least not in popular understanding, although from my research, it seems they are quite common, but that's not something that comes up in everyday language. I would like to have genuine relationships where I can be involved somewhere and at the same time have that sense of freedom; However, these relationships are completely inconsequential, stagnant, driven by fear of conflict, only dwelling on the same old things.

I don't have relationships where I can share my life and my thoughts, like these websites do, but I recognize that the advantage of websites is that they allow for personal development, within certain rules, of course. I don't feel comfortable even mentioning that I had a sexual encounter with my sister, where I initiated things, thanks to movies my parents showed where sex scenes were readily available. But it turns out that's common; Children often engage in imitation and sexual exploration, out of innocence. Of course, at the time, it was a big deal for me because my mother took it as if I were an adult with my sister, with principles and all, when I was just a child, for God's sake. I'm glad I was able to say it; I really needed to, and I pray she doesn't kick me out for it, because that's not the point. I didn't intend to commit incest, even though it didn't happen, as my parents assumed. My parents assumed I was a monster, based on prejudice and nothing more.

I'm tired of the office. How is it possible that they have access to the cell phone of the girl I like, and I don't? How is it possible that I, who always helped her, get all the benefits that I don't? Benefits that I so richly deserve... The most unpleasant thing is finding out how everyone, in the middle of an emergency, can do as they please, go to her whenever they want, and even receive congratulations—a total hypocrite, despicable, and even humiliating, for God's sake. Recently, the girl's family member's death was announced in the WhatsApp group chat, and all the authorities called her, and everyone was concerned. After finding out that everyone could contact her, but I couldn't, I have absolutely no desire to wish her well or peace of mind. This whole time, I've felt completely ignored. Everyone is fine with her, but I can't. Everyone is fine with her, but I, even though I was the one who acted in good faith with her at the beginning. The worst part is that I complained once about a similar health issue, and all she did was put on a brave face to pretend she wasn't ignoring me, just like she did with that other situation she posted in the group, by the way. I'm fed up with trying to understand her; I don't want to keep justifying her. In the middle of all this, I'm the one paying the price. She receives everyone's affection, everyone else receives her affection, while I'm barely there with her, half-heartedly, without any recognition, keeping my mouth shut because people don't understand my situation, and on top of that, I've been cut off from my work group, to the point where I don't really have a work group anymore, just a fictitious one, the one created by the bureaucracy. My boss is also being persecuted at every turn. I'm completely alone in this, even though people are supporting me. In these circumstances, no one will do anything about it; I'm totally helpless, on the lookout, all because I let myself be led astray by this girl, chasing after miserable crumbs of bread—though, I must admit, they are quite prominent.

It hasn't been easy for me to act like nothing's wrong, I admit it, to always act as if nothing ever happened between us, as if nothing hurts. It's painful that I have to resort to online platforms to express what I feel. I haven't had any facial expressions in a long time, just vague, almost imperceptible ones. I'm honest, I abide by the law and the rules, but I don't possess any kind of impulsiveness; I feel completely numb. I have relationships that make me feel like I'm not involved in anything because that's precisely my place within them, and I have to let myself be carried along, always mindful of their circumstances while remaining completely open to whatever comes, regardless of what I'm going through. Of course, I follow the same dynamic I experienced with my parents, with the safeguard that I have time to think, to reaffirm myself, and to act within limitations and move around them. Ultimately, at least in these relationships, this unwritten rule is followed no matter what, without exception. This contrasts with other relationships where things aren't like that, where I occupy a place in their lives so deeply that they even consider me an object. I prefer to distance myself from those because they offer me a freedom that, according to them, is inherent. In these other relationships, the freedom of being in the middle of nowhere is precisely what allows me to build myself up in the world, to construct my freedom with discernment.

I can't tell anyone about any of this. I have to go through this alone, completely alone, at my own mercy, with no one else around. Not even my father can be there for me, and I don't trust the psychologists in my town to help me either. They talk about how they'll help me, but it's just a promise they don't even know they'll keep. In fact, the times I've asked for help, I've felt completely trapped, even though I'm in a highly sensitive state. I don't want to know anything more about these relationships, about being in nothing. I can't. It overwhelms me, it's exhausting, I feel like I can't take it anymore. I can't believe they're living off my lack of brutal reaction, even though I haven't made the biggest scenes. I mean, I can't believe I've lived with these relationships all this time pretending nothing affected me when it does. It does affect me. I can't believe I've lived with it all because I couldn't express what I felt to anyone. However, I don't think anyone will notice, not even in the office, because everyone expects me to remain calm and composed. That's my persona, and it always translates into a kind of omnipotence in the face of adversity. Of course, I don't want their support in any way, because all they'll do is control me through manipulation. That's how the psychologists in my town operate, and I'm fed up with it.

I'd be capable of breaking a thousand things, but I can't. It's a disgrace to work in the office with someone I hate.

Something else happened. After how this girl in the office treated me, the bosses came to her aid in the emergency. No one helped me, while I was suffocating under the circumstances, absolutely no one. I had to deal with the girl and my work group, all at the same time and at the expense of everyone else's limitations, all in the name of keeping things under control. No one did anything, and even my department head opposed the situation, as did the girl. Everyone opposed my well-being because, according to them, I could handle it, based on the idea that being alone would cause this problem. I needed as much respite as possible, which is why I chose the girl and her office group, who gave me some breathing room, over my boss, who always kept me cornered. I needed air in my workspace and comfort in my dealings with her, in terms of how she acted as a faithful representative to the outside world.

I'm not going to confide my feelings to them or anyone else, because in my community, it's seen as an object to be manipulated based on frameworks that aren't one's own, frameworks they consider universal, but which aren't. This is all done to tolerate the guidance, to be channeled, because everything is based on how they see me and according to their perspective, without taking me into account. I'm fed up with going over the situation again and again, but I have to admit that it allows me to have a holistic view of everything that has happened and the present, and that's the idea: the more discernment, the better, especially when it comes to these relationships where you're not really involved in anything. These relationships aren't common, at least not in popular understanding, although from my research, it seems they are quite common, but that's not something that comes up in everyday language. I would like to have genuine relationships where I can be involved somewhere and at the same time have that sense of freedom; However, these relationships are completely inconsequential, stagnant, driven by fear of conflict, only dwelling on the same old things.

I don't have relationships where I can share my life and my thoughts, like these websites do, but I recognize that the advantage of websites is that they allow for personal development, within certain rules, of course. I don't feel comfortable even mentioning that I had a sexual encounter with my sister, where I initiated things, thanks to movies my parents showed where sex scenes were readily available. But it turns out that's common; Children often engage in imitation and sexual exploration, out of innocence. Of course, at the time, it was a big deal for me because my mother took it as if I were an adult with my sister, with principles and all, when I was just a child, for God's sake. I'm glad I was able to say it; I really needed to, and I pray she doesn't kick me out for it, because that's not the point. I didn't intend to commit incest, even though it didn't happen, as my parents assumed. My parents assumed I was a monster, based on prejudice and nothing more.

This place has helped more than I imagined. The things I have to share are so fucked up and and dark.. but I can't speak them. The words choke me.

I've been assembling a sort of plan with a therapist. As I've forced myself to face my demons I've found a startling truth.

Maybe some of you have read what are.. likely almost unbelievably fucked up things I've experienced, that I've shared. Idk.

You see, my family, we came here from a country destroyed by war. We were no strangers to violence. Depravity. So we came to Canada, years and years before me. At first we began to thrive. It is a welcoming, beautiful country. Hard, determined, friendly people. But the evil of mankind seemed to have followed us, or perhaps the war left its mark on us and we just didn't see.

It began with my mother. She was always an erratic lady, you see. High energy. Fiercely intelligent, strong, capable. A take charge woman. Naturally, she thrived at her first job here- a computer scientist. But it wasn't enough. Something changed. Somehow, no one knows, she got in touch with cartel members, all the way out here. Not really as hard as you may think. movies and shows don't do it justice. The cartel is fuckin organized. If you've not actually seen it, just know this: It's better organized than most companies.

I dont know what she did at first. By that time she was pretty quiet about it. I suspect leaking info, she worked for some big firm you see. Eventually, though, she was hooked on drugs. That was it. Over the years, she became increasingly violent. She beat the entire family, held us all in a grip of fear.

And she became obsessed with me. She began to dabble in the occult, became convinced she controlled curses, demons. Ridiculous.. but imagine yourself, a boy. Just a boy. Your whole world has been spoon fed to you from this lady. She hurts you. She isolates you.

The things she has done, not just to me, but other children- kids from other families, or whatever, who were also involved. There is no hell or pit low enough for her. I have seen men shot, burnt alive, beaten to death, for trivial monetary owing. For drugs. For sport. She became pretty big. One of the largest meth and weapons dealers in the region. But that doesn't come without risks.

For every tens of thousands she made it disappeared into her drug habit. As it got worse, she'd taken me and run off. My father was.. a broken man. The war, yknow. He left me. The other children, my siblings, ran. It was just me, her and my dog. And.. well she didn't let me keep the dog long. let's just say that..

Eventually ofc I ran away. After many attempts. After she literally tore my face open with a claw hammer. I still bear the scars, of course. She even used the claw side... fuck me. I was five, man. How the fuck did she not kill me????

No one came. Years and years went by... I've been.. idek bro. Idk what I am. I'm broken. I know I am. Every day, flashbacks. So vivid I act them out, its embarrassing. I wake up with night terrors, but they're not even just that- it's memories. All memories. I've realized that I'm not even really a person. I've spent so long fighting to hold this inside, fighting to stay alive.. been on my own since 14. No assistance whatsoever. I realize that since I was a kid, I didn't have time to be anyone. I don't.. have hobbies. I don't really have likes or dislikes, yknow, in that regard. All I have is this cringing, crippling pain inside.

I want to change that. But..it's not gonna be easy. In my therapy, they mentioned that I am a victim of thought reform. That we needed to 'deconstruct' the puzzle she's made of me, because I still have the same irrational fears(the supernatural, things like that) that control me. Doesn't matter if I know it's bullshit, it's that fear response. Hardwired.

I also realize she's managed to create an entire person inside me, that isn't me. It's her. I never paid much mind. I've been running my whole life from this. I thought this darker reflection was just my anger, my pain. And it sort of is. But it's worse.

I feel her. She often would ambush me in the dark. I'll skip details. But so.. sometimes I just swear, in a dark hallway.. yknow? Does any of this make sense, prolly not. You can't really get it unless you've lived it, ig, like with anything. I just don't know what to do. I'm just these broken pieces and now I have to just.. figure it out. Yeah, I get it, we're all doing that. But also.. I've literally never met anyone my age, and hardly even older folk, who've seen the shit I have. And, frankly, it's probably because those types of things are buried under the rest of society. When the news is yelling about the other side of the world, I guess it's easy to forget the wars and worse happening in the gutter, right here at home.

The fuck. Anyways. This was about the most put together thing I've written in a while.. Idk what my future holds. Sometimes I.. feel I should.. yk. Leave this place. My way. I'm afraid. I'm afraid to speak these evils to my therapist, I've been writing them down, bit by bit..I'm afraid that when it all comes out, it won't stop. I'm afraid of all that I've suppressed- who fucking knows, what have I been hiding even from me??? God.. but I mean.. fuck, dude. I did everything alone. That has to mean something right?

I had every opportunity to become like her. She even tried for years to make me her enforcer. She said it was her dream, isn't that just fucked? To want, WANT your CHILD to kill families, rivals? What insanity. But I refused. I took more than a few beatings for that, and.. worse. But God saw that shit, I swear. Somehow.. no matter the horror.. no matter how truly fuckin close I've been to hell, to danger, to the worst of humanity, brother I cannot give up. I want to, SO BAD. But I guess I'm made of stern stuff. Man i feel so stupid saying all of this, sometimes, you know, you say something and your brain reminds you how much sense it makes, and i find myself feeling dumb after. Then again, I ah, I'm so fucked up.. I can hardly string a thought this long and organized at all. Why is that?? Why is it now, right now, I'm not a blubbering mess like every other time? Is that what healing feels like? Idfk. I don't trust myself at this time because it's all mixed inside, yknow? It feels easier to generalize. Like, I basically skimmed over my shit. If I get into specifics, like other posts.. oh I'm fucked. Weird.. but maybe not. Okay, rant done

I [21F] am at a massive crossroads and need some outside perspective before I meet my ex-boyfriend [25M] tomorrow.

We live in a traditional Arabic/Muslim country where the timeline moving toward engagement and marriage happens fast. My ex holds very traditional views—specifically, he expects his partner to not have any guy friends. To be fair, in our culture, cutting off friends of the opposite sex is bound to happen eventually as things get serious anyway. My life doesn’t revolve around boys, so cutting them off isn't an impossible ask for me if I knew for a fact I was marrying the right, safe man. But I really struggle with the idea of losing genuinely good people in my life right now for the mere potential of what someone might be.

Our relationship definitely had friction. When he gets angry, he can say hurtful things, and he even brought our private arguments to my family, which really upset and hurt me. That said, he doesn’t have major anger issues overall, and I want to be honest and acknowledge where he was coming from culturally.

After we broke up, we went into total silence. The pain of the cutoff was too much for me to handle. I panicked, missed him deeply, and reached out to ask if we could meet tomorrow. He agreed.

Looking back, I realize I was emotionally unavailable at the start and didn’t put real effort into the relationship. I loved him—maybe not as much as he loved me, but I did care. I know what I want might be unrealistic and selfish because I just wasn’t ready for it to end, and it’s unfair to keep him hanging by a thread if I can't give him what he wants.

But since I’m the one who reached out, I am genuinely wondering if I can find it in myself to change, cut off the guy friends since it’s culturally expected anyway, and give him the real effort and commitment he deserves this time around.

Am I just bargaining because I’m terrified of this being our final goodbye and I'm not ready to let go? Or is it worth giving this another shot now that I recognize my own past emotional unavailability? How do I handle this face-to-face meeting tomorrow without making a mistake?

So I've been distrustful of certain things, which aren't anyone's fault, but I think the universe's.

You see, I have great friends, but for the 2 attempts I've had to hang out with them, it's never worked out. They say their families had other ideas or we simply couldn't do it. My family is anyways paranoid, wondering if their families won't even let them leave, and always say "But there are lots of kids who stay with their families!" Oh yeah? I see them, then they're gonna grow up like me and my aunt who don't socialize with anyone. Do they want me to hermit away? Be responsible for their messes? My friends are great, but you know, we're all just different atoms with different chemicals just interacting after all. And what if, just like the rules of everything that exists, I happened to be one of the people who was born to just not have any good times with FRIENDS?

I can only have fun with family. In my whole life as of now I've hung out with family, been on holidays with family, stayed with family. Family first is great, until you realize that means any friendship, any connection when you grow up, is scrutinized and burnt to ashes. when I'm 20, I won't be able to hang out with them, because guess what, it just burns away! Because the universe aligned itself to do it for me and a bunch of other hermits like my aunt! And like, what's the point? I should try out the NUCLEAR OPTION, just nuke every contact, why would they care? They've got a great gig going on, I'm just the weirdo with them who displaces things for them. Now there's this thing I want to go to with them, but you know what? How about I ditch them in September, flip them off and head out with mom? They're nice, but I can't have it anyways since the universe still thinks I haven't cracked it yet, so screw all of them.

There's this thing I wanna head out with them on that month and due to my 14 year long predicament (my entire life, basically), I have a feeling I can't. I don't know, I just made my mind. Going with them is a bad idea because it means I can't head out with them. Planning with friends so far has never worked out. What shot have I got growing up? I'll just live alone or with mom and dad, they'll need me soon. My aunt anyways stays with my grandparents, even though grandpa's been real exhausting sometimes. She's done it for decades now. That's my future. Taking care of my family. At least I'm not alone in that sense, because family is first, right? Gotta keep it no. 1 priority.

We are all just atoms reacting with one another to create thoughts and metabolism. Those atoms are shaped how everything works. Why we fall back onto Earth instead of fly away, gravity exists. Why we're able to think, it's just atoms reacting together to make us somehow work. I feel like I'm holding on with duct tape, and every time I see a friend group happy, that tape breaks even further and I just keep going at it. I wish they suffer sometimes. I wish they have to live life with the fact outside connection is impossible. To wonder why every time you think positive, when you're at your happiest, life will remind you that you're just atoms and that you have a set of rules given.

Rules such as these which I have so far:

1. I can't ever have an outing w/ friend

2. Can only have good days with family, ONLY FAMILY

3. Your friends are either great people who sometimes can't make it due to the universe's set of rules against me and a bunch of others

4. Or they can hang out with you but they're a-holes

5. That you are nothing more than just atoms so life has no meaning to it.

i just got back from a holiday at an all-inclusive resort with my family, and let me tell you, i can't shake this newfound realization that i genuinely might hate them. every year we plan this trip in the name of 'quality time' but it hardly ever feels like that. two weeks of mandatory happiness: it's exhausting. you're constantly surrounded by people who assume they know you inside out just because they're related to you. it's like being trapped in a sitcom rerun where everyone laughs at the same jokes every time... except no one's clapping.

don't get me wrong, there's something undeniably convenient about those all-you-can-eat buffets and the never-ending supply of piña coladas by the poolside. but when it's coupled with forced conversations and archaic family dynamics, it becomes less of a luxury and more of a scene from george orwell's '1984'. mind-numbing repetition: how's work going? have you thought about settling down yet? questions launched at me with missile-like precision as if my life choices are pinned on a dartboard.

one morning, i sat on the balcony overlooking the most picturesque view imaginable: turquoise waters meeting a flawless horizon. yet there i was texting friends about the monotony of having breakfast with people who barely understand what drives me in life. it's ironic how familial ties, which should feel warm and comforting, can become entangling ropes holding you back from genuine self-expression.

it's not that they're malicious or anything (they mean well, i'll give them that much) but their idea of fostering relationships seems to stop at bloodlines rather than mutual interests or respectful dialogue. you'll find yourself stuck listening to unsolicited advice regarding everything from your career path to your choice of footwear for dinner ("sandals are too informal")... as if i'm being lectured on some unwritten guidebook that has to be followed stringently!

in conclusion (if there is one), i've realized that loving one's family doesn't automatically translate into liking them all the time; perhaps that's what makes these vacations so dishearteningly eye-opening. we return under the guise of rejuvenation only for old grievances to be unearthed alongside the unpacked luggage.