Health and Wellness Failures Stories

It's really hard to explain. I walk, I talk, I breathe, I do everything that living human does. But something has always felt off, like I'm *not* a living human. I have a personality. Sometimes. But somewhere inside me, I feel... lost. Like there's a peice out there that's missing from me. For a few days, while my cousin was over with his kids, I felt almost whole, while I was hanging out with the older of the two kids (he's 4). But they left this morning and now I feel... incomplete again. I'm trying my hardest to describe it, and choosing all the wrong words. Imagine if someone took your arm off, or your leg. You'd sometimes try to use the limb, feeling like it's still there, only to find it gone as it always was. That's how I feel sometimes. The part of me that's gone, I forget it's not there, find myself doing things I wouldn't do usually, like talking to someone who's not there. It's just that I don't remember that part of me ever being there. I don't remember having it, don't remember losing it. It's so frustrating. I've been trying to fill this hole, if you can call it that, been trying to feel fully alive again, but it just never goes away. Not fully, anyway. I've tried to fill the hole with friends, material things, family, and love but it just stays empty and I don't know what to fill it with. I've always kinda felt like this, just never understood it, so I never told anyone, just hid it. Please help.

I don't wanna feel a thing. Talking about makes me sick. You've got therapy and I"ve got no regrets. Yesterday I slept till sunset. Woke up on my bedroom floor again. I can't even count on half the people that I call my friends. Rolling through another blackout. I don't gotta act like I'm ok. Everything got better when I realized nothing matters anyway. I don't want your bad advice. Keep that baggage to yourself. I could show the whole world my scars. But that'd probably scare them all away. I would rather take another hit, put on a band-aid. I need help. I NEED HELP. I'm too STUBBORN to ask myself. I'm so tired, I'm unwell. I'm too broken to fix myself...

Don't know how much more I can take

I just know that I need to get better.

I've told everyone otherwise for too long. And when they start to notice, and I say I don't need help despite clearly needing it, they get mad at me.

idk whats wrong with me lately but its like everythin just feels heavy?? like i wake up n my chest is tight nd i dont wanna get outta bed. i just stare at the ceiling n think bout nothin but also everything at once. i used to wake up n feel kinda excited for the day but now its like...idk. empty i guess? my alarm goes off nd i feel this dread inside me like "oh great, here we go again". and i know i shouldnt feel this way cuz like nothin bad rlly happened but still its like my bodys fightin against me or sumthin.

when i go out with friends now, im not even rlly there. i try to laugh and joke but its like im watchin myself from the outside. like im pretendin to have fun when inside i just wanna go home n crawl under my blankets. and sometimes they notice n ask me whats wrong but i dont even know what to say?? cuz if i say "idk i just feel bad" they look at me weird n i feel stupid. so instead i say "im fine just tired" or sumthin but deep down i kno they kno its more than that. nd then i feel worse cuz im lyin to ppl i love but what else am i sposed to do? tell them my brain feels broken??

school feels impossible rn too. i sit in class n all the words the teacher says jus float past me like i cant grab onto em. my grades r slippin nd i kno it but its like i cant even care enough to fix it. ill sit at my desk to study n end up starin at the wall for hours. like time jus stops or sumthin. and then i get rlly mad at myself cuz i kno i should be better but i cant seem to make myself move. i just feel stuck. like theres glue holdin me in place n the harder i try to move the more stuck i get.

my mom tried to talk to me bout it yesterday. she noticed i was bein quiet nd stuff at dinner n asked me if sumthin was wrong. i wanted to tell her everything, how i feel lost nd sad nd tired all the time. but instead i just shrugged n said "nah im fine mom". she gave me that look she always does when she knows im lyin but she didnt push it. i think she wants me to talk but idk how to even start. what if she thinks im bein dramatic? what if she thinks its just some teenage thing n not real? cuz it feels pretty real to me.

idk what im sposed to do anymore. i jus kno that i dont feel good, not at all. like somethings missing from inside me n i cant find it. i jus want to feel normal again. not even happy, just normal. but rn that feels impossible, like im trapped in this fog that wont go away. i jus wanna wake up n breathe easy again, feel the sun without wishin i could stay in bed forever. i jus wanna be me again, but i dunno how to find her.

ALERT: This is probably TW. Don't read this if you think it could in any way negatively affect you.

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I'm having a breakdown. I hate my fucking body. It's disgusting. My BMI is 18, is very very much. I'm really fat. Ugh, I feel like tearing off all the fucking fat. I'm crying

im so sick of feeling this way all the time. like evry day i wake up n theres this tight feelin in my chest like somethings gonna go wrong. i cant even remember the last time i felt calm or normal, its jus anxious anxious anxious all day long. its not jus anxiety either tho, im angry all the time too. like little things set me off, stuff that shouldnt even matter makes me so mad i could scream. n then i feel guilty for bein angry at ppl who probly dont even kno wat they did. its like theres somethin broken in my head n i cant fix it no matter wat i do.

school used to be alright but now its the worst. i cant concentrate in class, i jus sit there worryin bout stuff i cant control. if the teacher calls on me, i panic, like my mind goes totally blank n i feel like everyones starin at me thinkin im stupid. then when class ends i get angry at myself for not tryin harder, for bein weak, for lettin anxiety win again. i kno i need to calm down but tellin myself that jus makes me even more angry. i jus wanna be normal. i jus wanna not feel like im constantly gonna explode or cry or both at the same time.

my friends r startin to notice too i think. like they ask me whats wrong n i dont even kno wat to tell them. how do u say "im jus anxious n angry all the time for no reason" without soundin crazy?? so instead i jus say "im fine" even tho we all kno im not. n sometimes they say stuff like "just chill" or "u gotta relax" n it makes me mad cuz dont they kno if i could jus chill i would?? they dont get it. nobody gets it. its like im alone even when im wit ppl. n then im mad at myself for bein lonely too, like why cant i jus be grateful i even hav friends who care enough to ask.

i kno i probly need help but i dont even kno where to start. talkin to my parents feels impossible cuz they jus say stuff like "its jus a phase" or "stop bein dramatic." but wat if its not jus a phase? wat if im stuck feelin anxious n angry forever? i dunno how much longer i can keep pretendin everythings ok when its rlly not. im jus tired, like rlly tired. tired of feelin this way n tired of fightin wit myself all the time. i jus wish someone could understand how hard it is, how it feels like im losin myself a little bit every single day.

I know the title is silly. It's my attempt to lighten what is bound to be a pretty depressing situation to write out.

So I'm autistic, but autistic in the way where it's almost -ALMOST- not a problem. I can speak well, I can go out in public and not visibly stand out if I try not to (unless I open my mouth), I'm smart and kind and not prone to outbursts. I keep myself and my surroundings clean enough. HOWEVER. I still need help. I can't open cans or use can openers, I can't hold a bag for long or it hurts my stupid oversensitive hands, I never got the hang of folding clothes or tying shoes. I'll forget to eat sometimes, forget to shower sometimes (though never if I have somewhere to be), and I'm totally nocturnal on account of the only friends I have being digital and overseas. People in real life don't stay, or worse, they do and they bully me. My diet is almost entirely beige, I can't use a bus without getting lost if the route is unfamiliar, the list goes on and on. The things I can do are many, and I love my hobbies no matter how unprofitable they are, but the few things I can't outweigh them by societal importance. Jobs reject me because I can't answer the phone or stand up for the whole shift, and I need to do only one or two tasks, not eight.

This is where the title kicks in - I like to joke I have Old Timey Disney Princess Syndrome, in that there is literally no solution for my problems that doesn't involve waiting for someone else to please, please swoop in and fix it for me:

Want my own house? Wait for someone with money to agree to live with me.

Want a job? Wait for someone to say yes to an application AND they have to agree to my limited scope of things I can actually do.

Want to go out somewhere? Wait for someone to be available to take me.

It's crushing me. I'm doing everything I can to try and move along - I want SOMETHING in my life to change, but it's like I'm on a treadmill. It doesn't seem to matter how hard I try, nothing changes. If anything, the situation gets worse year upon year. I've recently turned 24, so my job prospects are now the lowest they've ever been because I'm now competing with fully-able people my age who who finished university, and I couldn't even go because I got bullied so hard everywhere else.

I know a lot of people who will look at this story and go "wow. what a whiny victim, no such thing as 'can't', just get up and DO IT." and to that I say, "don't you think I've tried?"

Every single thing I have listed for you here, every single item, I have attempted to change or struggle through. I have wasted months or years trying to do things I'm simply not built to be able to do. I have worked myself to breakdown and therapy again and again. I have tried every option available, from self-employment to placements to toughing-it-out. I have tried left handed can openers, electric can openers, ring pulls. I have tried pre-bagged veggies in my diet, differently prepared almost every way you can think of. I have been on so many courses that my work coach has run out of courses to send me on. That is how hard I have tried, and still I have no results. I am exactly where I've been for the past six years.

I am still stuck at home with my borderline abusive father, doing all the chores as best as I can with very little praise for the effort while he comes home and passes out, and I have to accept that, because at least he's worked hard to feel so exhausted. I barely do anything except job applications and chores.

I had thought perhaps the answer was my boyfriend, eventually moving out to America to be with him, but uh...not anymore! thanks politics.

So now I just don't know what to do. I've run out of things to try, and I don't want to be another example of an autistic person driven to the Worst Outcome, but I don't know how much longer I can bear being like this without any change.

I'd appreciate any suggestions from anyone who's been where I am and managed to scrabble out of the pit.

Hey... this is gonna be tough to say.

TW // talk about rape

so... my partner, K, has been raped a few times in her life. I understand it to a degree, having been sa'd multiple times and raped once myself, but I can't seem to silence my thoughts. Whenever I am alone thinking, I for some reason start to think about the fact that she was raped, and I get urges to ask for descriptive details about them, things like who it was, what their relation was to her, where it happened, how it happened, what they did, basically things that should never be asked. I am not necessarily afraid that I am going to slip up and end up asking them, but I'm worried where they come from, because it feels almost like i want to know the details so i can imagine myself in that situation. Almost like I want to have lived her life and experienced all the good and bad she's been through and its kind of eating me up. I can't seem to understand why i want to be her so badly.

And wish it'd been an actual bicycle instead. I'm a bisexual man living in an authoritarian homophobic country. A few years ago I experienced a heart-shattering breakup, as my only soulmate and only physical relationship I've had (a girl) left me over something stupid I did (got expelled from university and hid it from her; it was more the broken trust aspect of it to her than anything). I hadn't been a very happy man before that either. All my life I've felt isolated and alienated, being bisexual, overly sensitive, overweight, nerdy, introverted, and teetotal. I grew a thick shell around me to silence my inner child/core being and reduce the sensitiveness, and it worked. But it turned out that love brings it all back out, the good and the bad.

My soulmate was the only person I've ever felt a deep connection to, who felt like someone who really understood me or at least parts of me better than anyone could. With her gone, and most of my immediate family dead to cancer, Alzheimer's, heart attacks and whatnot, I was at a complete loss. I retreated back into my shell, and it was all extinguished again, the good and the bad. My capacity for tender, genuine love - which she'd been surprised greatly by, only knowing me as the sarcastic jester - and my oversensitivity, which sometimes caused me to read too much into some poorly communicated words or actions. I was in great pain for a few months and slept a lot, until the death throes ceased, and I went back to this bland apathetic existence of a dead inside sarcastic cynic.

Until a few days ago, when it felt like some kind of other person took control of my body. I'd been noticing it for a while, the ever-increasing buildup inside of me towards homosexual attraction. While normally I was more interested in women, I'd been noticing more and more attraction to men these last years. It lasted longer than usual and felt much stronger. And finally, something within broke and gave in to the urges. I found the two biggest underground resources for gay dating that still remained in my country and posted a profile there. I knew it was stupid, with every ounce of my rationality remaining, but I couldn't help but watch from the sidelines as the other me was overtaken by the fantasy of someone replying to my profile, and me getting to kiss a boy for the first time in my life...

But of course, nothing happened. I know, I know, it's even dumber to expect results in just a few days. However, there are a few things you can't escape from. A few people left comments like "well damn" and "pfft, good luck with that". I also met a guy online who is, unlike me, young and thin and feminine, and using those same resources, he struggled to find love for years, because apparently most people just want an ONS or FWB. If he didn't have a chance, what could I possibly hope for? Look at them, so young and pretty, most of them attracted to each other. Even if some of them want genuine love, what do I bring to the table? An unemployed overweight loser with a crappy apartment, approaching 30. I felt creepy, and sick, and like an abomination. Who cares that you want to kiss a boy and hold him forever and tell him how precious and sweet he is. Who do you think you are to deserve that?

I spent the entirety of yesterday in feverish, sleepy anxiety, so reminiscent of the worst days of my depression, and eventually went to sleep early and slept for 12 hours. I felt better the next day, sleep does help, but some fear, anxiety, and disgust was still there. People who hear my story always tell me how strong I am that I carry on despite everything. Bullshit. I've never felt strong. I just have extreme thanatophobia and anhedonia, not to mention being teetotal, so it looks like I'm strong from the outside. Still alive, and not drunk in a ditch, what more could you ask for. So don't worry, dear reader. I'm not gonna go and off myself after this - Death does not deserve such a gift, and never has, especially after all it's taken from me. But I do feel a part of myself dying again. Love and desire and the desperate scream of a child who didn't get to grow up properly and who's more touch starved than a pharaoh's mummy slowly evaporating and drowning out. Come tomorrow, I will be a functioning adult again. A husk of a man in reality.

Despite this, I will continue to do what I can to improve myself, of course. I will try to shut up my anxiety attacks, clean up the most used areas of my apartment to the best of my ability, and even eat less and go at it on my newly bought exercise bike - a poor man's Ozempic called willpower, that I'd always been sorely lacking, but anhedonia makes it much easier. Maybe, just maybe, years later, when I'm yet older, I'll have a chance to try again. Maybe I'll have a better body and financial situation. I don't know if I'll want to try. I'm so fucking scared to end up like Stephen Fry and start dating again when I'm already 57 or something. And I feel sick to the bone at the cruelty of this world, for putting me in a body full of desires that can't be fulfilled and fears that can't be avoided. Whatever. Life is unfair. Come nightfall, and take it all away. Shed a tear for me, dear reader - mine have dried up a long time ago.

I'm tired of not being recognized. Nobody pays attention to me nor acknowledges my existence properly.

I tried other sites to vent, but nobody responded or even let me speak. It feels like there’s nothing special about me anymore. I don’t feel unique, and I need someone to make me feel alive, to make me feel like I’m worth something.

It became overwhelming, and I started to feel a profound sense of desperation, crying uncontrollably. I want someone to acknowledge me, but there are no people, no topics to talk about, and nothing about me that seems interesting.

I almost gave into SH again after months of not doing it; but with all my will, I made it into cold water before that happened. It wasn't even enough... Well, whatever. I'm now here

I guess it’s just me and my past regrets. I’ve come to realize that most people either act like it never happened or talk to someone else to share their sorrow, and somehow that works for them. So, I'm probably just another idiot.

I am tired about feeling like a failure.. I have done a mistake and I want to find amends to it.. But all I feel is I am tired I can't anymore..

My boyfriend feels hurt and I know I have hurt him but I don't know how to make amends. I know I am the worst person present.. I have let him down always.. I feel like I am the bad person in his life.. Somehow whatever happens I end up being the bad person.. I get angry I shout.. I don't know how to process anything.. I don't know how to go on.. I have made a decision to end my life right now.. I feel like I have no purpose and no motivation if things will be alright.. I have no hope left.. I can't change the situation nor myself and nothing is getting solved anymore.. So I have decided to die

i dont really kno how to explain it but like most days i feel happy but sad at the same time, like im laughin with my friends and everything seem fine, i go to school, i joke around, i listen to music, i even get excited for stuff like a new movie or some game night or whatever, but deep down theres this weird sadness just sittin there and i dont even kno why, like theres nothin wrong exactly, nothing i can point to and say “this is why im sad” but it’s just there like a quiet shadow followin me everywhere even when the sun’s out, i could be in the middle of a good moment and then boom i just feel kinda empty, and it dont make sense cause my life isn’t bad, i got a roof, i eat every day, my family’s not perfect but they’re not awful either, nd i got a few real friends, not a lot but enough, so why do i feel like this? why do i feel like im broken or like something’s missin? sometimes i’ll be walking home and suddenly i feel like crying for no reason at all, and i dont cry, not really, but like inside it builds up and makes my chest tight, and i try to smile through it cause i don’t wanna be the sad kid or make things awkward for other people, like they expect me to be chill and upbeat cause that’s what i’ve always been but i feel like im fakin it more and more lately, like i don’t even know if the smiles are real or just habit now, nd then when i try to explain it to someone i feel stupid cause i don’t even got a story to tell, it’s just vibes, like this weird heavy cloud that dont go away even when the sky’s blue, nd sometimes i think maybe that’s just life and everyone’s like this and they just hide it better or maybe im just soft or weak for lettin it get to me, but either way it sucks, cause i wanna be happy for real, not fake happy or happy with a side of sad, just happy and done, but it never last, it’s like i reach it for a sec and then sadness taps me on the shoulder again and i cant shake it, nd maybe that’s what scares me the most, that this weird mix of happy and sad is just who i am forever and i’ll never feel one without the other again.

this is my experiences

4 am in the bathroom

The door locked

Don't let anyone in

Banging your head against the wall

Tears streaming down your face

The red river dripping from the wrist to floor

The pain intoxicating, pulling you in

Until you feel numb

Each mark deeper and deeper

No one must know

You feel the shame and guilt wash over you

You hide away

Long sleeves in the summer

"Come on take off your hoodie it's warm"

Then they find out

The screaming, the fighting

The arguing

The cycle repeats itself

4 am in the bathroom

The door locked

Don't let anyone in

WHen did I become so numb? When did I lose myself? All the words that leave my tongue are like they came from someone else... I'm paralysed... Where are my feelings? I no longer feel things, I know I should... I'm paralysed... Where is the real me? I'm lost, and it kills me inside... I'm paralysed... When did I become so cold? When did I become ashamed? WHERE'S THE PERSON THAT I KNOW? THEY MUST'VE LEFT. They must've left with all my strength. I'm paralysed, I'm scared to live, but I'm scared to die. And if life is pain, then I buried mine a long time ago, but it's still alive. And it's taking over me. Where am I? I wanna feel something, I'm numb inside. But I don't feel nothing, I wonder why. I'm in the race of life, and time passed by. Look, I sit back and I watch it, hands in my pockets. Waves come crashing over me, but I just watch them. I just watch 'em. I'm underwater, but I feel like I'm on top of it. I'm at the bottom, but I don't know what the problem is. I'm in a box, but I'm the one who locked me in it. I'm suffocating, I'm running out of oxygen.

Sometimes I just sit in the car in the driveway, engine off, keys still in the ignition, and I stare out through the windshield, not really lookin at anything. Just sitting there. Not because I'm too tired to walk inside, but because I’m too emotionally tired to face the silence that waits for me in that house. I’m 38 years old, married for almost ten years, and every day feels heavier than the last. My job takes every bit of my time and energy. The meetings, the deadlines, the constant emails at midnight—it never stops. And the irony is, I worked sooooo hard to get here, to build a career I could be proud of. But now that I have it, all I can feel is empty. I don’t feel proud, I feel worn out. I feel like I gave everything I had just to be in a place that doesn’t even fulfill me anymore.

And then there’s my marriage. We don’t fight, not really. But we don’t laugh much anymore either. We talk about the groceries, the bills, who’s picking up dinner. But we don’t talk about us. We haven’t in a long time. He’s a good man, dependable, quiet, never cruel—but there’s just no spark left. Maybe there never really was and I convinced myself the stability was love. Maybe we just got older and forgot how to connect. Whatever it is, it’s gone now. He sleeps on his side of the bed, I sleep on mine. We don’t touch. We don’t share dreams. And worst of all, I don’t even feel sad about it anymore. I just feel numb. Like I already mourned it years ago, silently, and now I’m just existing in the after.

There was a time when I wanted kids more than anything. I'd look at mothers pushing strollers at the park and my heart would ache. I tolld myself I’d try “next year,” once things slowed down. But they never did. There was always another promotion to chase, another work trip, another long night at the office. And now? Now I don’t even know if it’s physically possible. And even if it was, I don’t know how I’d manage. Bringing a child into this life would be like dropping them into the middle of chaos. I wouldn’t have time to give them what they deserve. And deep down, I don’t think I’d want to do it with him. Not like this. Not when I already feel like I’m holding myself together with tape.

It’s a weird kind of grief, mourning the life you thought you’d have while still living the one you built. I scroll through social media and see people with their families, their toddlers painting messy art, their husbands kissing their cheeks, and I feel this sharp mix of envy and regret. I want to scream at my younger self, tell her to slow down, to not wait so long. To make different choices. But I can’t change the past, and the future feels like a narrow hallway with no doors. I don’t know what comes next. I can’t even imagine it. All I know is that I’m tired. Not just tired like I need sleep—but tired in my soul. Tired in my bones.

Sometimes people at work say things like “you’re so strong” or “you’ve got it all together” and I wanna laugh. If they only knew. If they knew how many nights I sit on the bathroom floor with the shower running so he won’t hear me cry. How many times I’ve opened my mouth to say “I’m not okay” and swallowed it back down. How often I wonder what it would feel like to just leave. To star t over somewhere new. But I don’t. I stay. Because it’s easier. Because change is scary. Because I tell myself it’s too late, even if some small part of me still hopes it’s not.

So here I am. Thirty-eight, successful on paper, stuck in a quiet marriage, childless not by choice exactly, but by exhaustion. I don’t need anyone to rescue me. I don’t even need anyone to fix it. I just wish someone could sit next to me and say, “I see you. I know you’re tired. And it’s okay.” Because right now, all I’ve got is this weight on my chest and a life that looks fine from the outside but feels so empty inside. I’m not falling apart exactly—I’m just emotionally tired. Too tired to keep pretending everything’s fine. Too tired to know what to do next.