Health and Wellness Failures Stories

I'm not really good at talking and describing my feelings since i don't really talk about so im sorry of this doesnt really make sense

I'm 17 and im in college now, i really like what i do but when im working the loneliness always creeps back a little. I don't have any friends in class even though i so try to talk to them. Everyone in class seemed to do so well, everyone has their little group and when u look around the classroom u can see that im the only one sitting alone. I havw a few online friends but my bsf went mia on me so that also sucked. I don't really know how to let that loneliness die, i just want to make friends too you know?

so hey guys, i just wanted to share something that’s been on my mind for a while. you ever just sit there and wonder about your identity like, all existential and stuff? well, lately, i've been thinking, "am i trans?" 🌈 and let me tell ya, it’s like my brain’s been in overdrive (lol). you get these niggling thoughts and start questioning stuff you’ve never even considered before. it's kind of like when Socrates was all about "knowing thyself" and i'm sitting here trying to figure out, you know, me, myself and i. 😅

so, hear me out. like, growing up, i never really felt out of place or anything, but now and then i’d get these vibes like, “man, this just doesn’t fit”, and i kinda brushed them off, honestly. it’s not like i saw myself in the mirror and thought, hey, that’s not me, but there's always been something simmering beneath the surface. i guess it’s like when you wear an itchy sweater, and you’re just living with it, ‘cause, i dunno, it keeps you warm. 🧥 but then, you start to wonder, "is there a cozier option out there, something that fits just right without the itch?" anyone ever feel that?

and then you hit the internet, start reading about different experiences, stories, and you’re like, “wait, other people felt this way too?” you know those late-night deep dives into the Wikipedia abyss, lol. and suddenly you find yourself knee-deep in blogs, forums, and stories that resonate; like, seriously, people's honesty is just stunning and it’s like having a casual chat with strangers who seem to get what you’re going through. it’s like that Ted Talk moment, where someone articulates exactly what’s been floating around in your head but you never found the words. could that really be me, though? i keep thinking, "should i even be feeling this way?"

i guess what i’m saying is that it’s intimidating but also kinda intriguing, trying to navigate these waters. and i figure this whole self-discovery thing isn’t meant to be rushed, right? maybe it’s a journey where i learn more as i go along, and maybe it's fine to be uncertain and as long as i'm polite and respectful about where i end up, that’s what matters. besides, life’s too short to not question everything, and who knows, maybe there’ll be a point where things become clearer. or maybe not, i dunno. 🤷‍♂️ anyway, have any of you guys been through this kind of thing, or got tips for someone who’s sort of in the same boat? no pressure, i'm open to hearing what you think, just trying to figure this all out; thanks for tuning into my vent!

I am so fucking done living in this body that is tearing itself apart but refuses to die. Most of the time its manageable. Enough to make me believe that maybe im capable of what ive always dreamed. But one bad day. One missed dose. And im reminded of how horribly my body wishes to be rid of me.

It starts at my core spreading like a fungus. Spreading through every part of me and refusing to do the very thing its designed to do. To keep every part alive. To keep me alive. And it just fucking wont. It chips away from the inside. Trying to chip my soul away from my body. Digging my ribs away from the muscle. Feeling like pieces are snapping and stabbing in ways I'll never be able to fix. The blackness, the whiteness, the stars that overtake me if i dare to raise my head. Im fighting with myself to control any part of my body. My arms often being the last thing standing. My legs gave way long ago and my torso was never there to begin with.

I am pulling myself up with every ounce of strength i have  to be back on the ground but not even here am i safe. Everything moves. All of existence moves and spins in a dance that i cannot appreciate. I spin and tilt in a cruel carnival no matter if my eyes are open or shut.

Then for a moment I see with clarity. As if im faking it. Yeah im faking it. Its all in my head theres nothing wrong with me. My vision steady and everything normal. But i know the truth. Im not faking it. I wish that i were. Because people's bodies dont crush in on themselves for a little attention. And I dont what's worse. The problem itself or the little moments of calm in the middle that remind me of what could be. Because just as suddenly as the moment is there. Its gone.

Laying on the floor i know where i am because if i stand up i wont know. I wont know who or what i am. Because no matter how hard i try im forced to the ground in one way or another. By choice or by force.

It might ignorable. I could pretend i really chose to ɓe low as possible. If it werent for the sounds. They never stop. Every hum of electricity, trickle of a tap, the brush of a hand on something. Its amplified. I cant stand it. Every sound this existence offers becomes a cacaphony i cant drown out. It builds and builds while im screaming inside. I try but theres no escape. Not really.

Just to press salt in the wound my body has created in my soul, it adds nausea to the mix. Because what fucking sadistic asshole wouldnt. Wracking my insides. Rarely actually puking. But a dry heaving for hours. Unyielding. My stomach is forced into my lungs if i dont use every fiber of my being to control it.

I wish that any part could be the end of it. But no, my body says. Not allowed to die.

Im dying but not allowed to die.

Its not as if I havent tried before. Or that it hasnt tried before. Tried and failed. Tried and failed. A bathtub, a mask, a gun, a heart attack.... Im not afraid of death. Ive stared into its eyes too many times to be afraid of it. But i am terrified of living. Living just two steps away of my body trying to forcibly split from my soul.

I wonder if all the joy ive felt before is worth it. If I can really build a future continuing to live like this? Will i bring children into this world and if I do how selfish would it be knowing that i may have given them a curse like me? Can I truly keep them safe if just like me their bodies are dying from the inside out? And I wonder selfishly if i'll ever be able to have kids at all. Because thats what i worry about of all things. If my body will ever be capable of doing the one thing i have ever truly wanted more than anything.

I live in india from childhood I had severe anxiety issues , but it worsened from age 8 when I was medically diagnosed with thyroid and other hormonal imbalance meds and other remedies were too much for me as a child but endured as my parents were really concerned from them spends too much on my meds cause my condition sometimes worsens but at age 16 due to my incorporating roomates i was confirmed as OCD and depression it get cooled down at a point but till then I was already 17 and due to my health the result on my academics got bad. I asked my parents for 1 year drop as I can't give my open college entrance exam so somehow I thought I should use that one year to go in an excellent college and become successful and till time I will improve my skills but they didn't agree due to some called society opinion and now stu k on zu h a college whose name is only famous by publicity but not with education and faculty as it was my last option I had to move i thought may be faculty must be good but the here is also a ratta fixation and teachers don't teach properly didn't get our sem syllabus,HOD is a kind of person who doesn't take our studies seriously also this attendence survival game , too much assigments , frequent fest and then exam I am also a practical person who learns and understand by experiments but they only focus on unnecessary theory. Arguments with parents frequently by which this being time pass i truly got mentally sick again also migraines by this baseless study I feel like I can't become upto my parents expectation as an eldest one but I truly want to die or some kind of miracle happens.

It's actually so stupid how low I've actually stooped to. Just very recently all of the school stress and fear of criticism from friends (plus their hurtful jokes) has made me reach a new low. I was really trying not to ever do this, but I did. I just one day decided to find that one box cutter in my pencil case and try it out on my arm. The reason I even did it was to actually take away attention from another wound I had in the moment. Though somehow I would've thought I'd feel bad, but i didn't. Instead I just felt weird and dazed. The plan was to just do it that once, yet it somehow turned into more. I let the ones on my arm heal, since they weren't even that deep, and I moved on to one of my thighs. At first it was just only a small spot, and somehow with little time in just a week, it grew to both of my upper thighs, even a try on the inside of my ankles. Though the wounds may not be deep, there's many new with each day, that sting in a way that feels unfamiliar yet familiar. It's hard to stop doing it now. Even more with upcoming important stuff like exams, events and applying for schools, which all stress me out so much. I mean I'm 15, and I feel like such a loser for doing this as a way to get some sort of relief. It feels like I don't even qualify to do this, since I have a pretty normal life, except for a father, who is absent most times for work. It feels as if I'm mocking others who do it, even if I might not be, especially with one of my friends having done this sort of stuff for so long with family problems and all. It doesn't help that I feel more guilty when thinking of this friend actually having struggles and like almost a reason to do it, though that feels rude and offensive to say.

I feel so stupid for this to the point I had to get this out to somewhere. Even worse is that the trunks I was planning on using on top of my swimsuit for summer, are in fact, too short to cover the evidence up well. I dread the day I have to get exposed to this friend or anyone close to me. I should now probably go and prepare more for my math exam then.

I don’t even know how to feel about my feelings. I’ve been through so much, both now and in the past, that I can’t even understand how I feel anymore. I can’t express my feelings to anyone because when I try to express them to my mother, she sounds like she doesn’t care. So what do I do when I can’t even talk to my mom?

I keep everything inside, and when it becomes too much, I cry it out where no one will know, where no one will hear, where no one will see.

Pathetic, isn’t it? Well, that’s how I feel most of the time—pathetic.

I sit and wonder why I feel this way, why I have these feelings. A feeling where I feel empty, lost, and confused.

I don’t want to feel this way, but when I think about it, I prefer feeling numb because it protects me from disappointment. My whole life, I’ve felt like a disappointment—especially to someone I thought I could tell everything to. But now my heart aches because I can’t even talk to that person about what’s on my mind. My heart aches that whenever something is bothering me, I can’t express it because that one person I trusted thinks I’m just looking for attention.

“Attention.” You know, I never once thought about doing all of this just for attention. Well, what can I say?

Most of the time, I feel like I’m suffocating myself, as if I’m underwater and can’t breathe or get up. I can’t ask for help. Just like when my friend asks me what’s wrong, I can’t even form a word or sentence. It’s like I’m saying “what’s wrong,” but my lips aren’t moving.

You know what’s sad? Everyone I talk to about my problems says, “Talk to me” or “I’m always here.” But then they say they can relate to my trauma, even though I’ve been experiencing it for years.

If I told my mother everything I’ve been going through, she wouldn’t think twice before shouting at me, saying I’m looking for attention and pity. She is the reason I keep everything to myself, why I’m sad—no, not sad—numb. Numb is how she makes me feel most of the time, every second, every minute, every hour.

She makes me feel like I’m a burden to her. What I don’t understand is: if I’m such a burden, then why keep me? Why make me feel this way all the time?

Every time I think about all the pain she has caused me, I don’t even feel like crying. I just feel numb. I can’t even express my feelings to anybody anymore. I can’t even shed tears because I’m so numb.

“I used to float, but now I just fall down. I used to know, but now I’m not sure now...”

I don’t like this feeling I’ve been experiencing lately. I feel distant from my family and friends. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even exist in this world. I feel isolated from everyone.

Just a simple “Are you okay?” or “How are you?” can break the wall I’ve built to protect myself from crying, from looking weak, from showing that I’m in pain and suffering. So I build my wall again, brick by brick, over and over again. And there is no “until”—I will always have to build the wall.

What do I do now? How do I move on when the memories of my trauma still exist in my head, in my brain? It’s locked in a cage, like monsters waiting to come out and attack me, to make me fall back down, to make me give up.

This is why I keep everything to myself. Because once those monsters are free, and I talk about them, who will be there in the night when I’m alone with them? Who will support me? My friends say I should talk to them, but there’s only so much I can do.

Who will comfort me if I have another anxiety attack? That’s how I feel.

What will you do if you're exaust from family and lover. Running your house, taking care of everyone and at the end of the day got insulted by your lover ?

Idk anymore what to do, there's a voice inside telling me to run away from all of this.

I'M EXAUST

there’s not a category that fits this so i just chose randomly sorry, I don’t know how to word this plus it’s a vent I just don’t feel like living anymore i feel like a burden to everyone in my life, i stay at home constantly i feel ugly and i don’t want people to look at me i don’t even think my mom loves me it just feels like she’s saying it out of pity anytime i vent to someone they just reply with “oh but how would ___ feel?” That just makes me feel worse about myself i sometimes harm myself (scratching, cvtting, hitting) just do i dont lash out on my loved ones there’s nothing and no one stopping me from attempting and im scared im gonna do it soon, im a failure to everyone i even have a not incase i do attempt

I am in a very bad period right now and I keep asking the same dumb question, what happens when you cry too much, because I think I am doing some kind of damage and nobody says anything usefull about it. I do not mean one dramatic cry and then sleep. I mean a stupid repeated event, like my body is running a broken program and the output is tears, pain, more tears. My eyes burn all day. The skin under them is red and sore and kind of hot. My nose keeps switching between blocked and leaking and I am honestly sick of this gross fluid circus. My head feels packed with pressure, mostly around the forehead and sinuses, and I cannot tell if that is stress, inflammation, fatigue, dehydration, or just me going to hell in small pieces. Have you ever cried so much your throat hurt after even when you were not even speaking anymore? Because that keeps happening to me and it feels absurd. My chest gets tight. My breathing goees weird. I try to regulate it like some proper adult with self-control and then some tiny useless thing happens and I break again. People keep saying crying is healthy and that is such lazy crap. Too much of anything becomes wear and tear. That is basic logic. The autonomic system goes into overdrive, pulse elevated, muscles rigid, stomach unstable, sleep architecture ruined. Yes I know how that sounds, too clinical maybe, but what else am I supposed to call it when my whole body acts like it is under constant load. I drink water and still feel dry. I close my eyes and they twitch. I sit still and my face feels swollen and wrong, like it belongs to some miserable stranger. Maybe that is normal; maybe I am just weak and making it bigger in my own head, but I do not think so. I think the body can only process so much crying before it starts billing you for it. That is what this feels like. A bill. A penalty. A system notice saying I exceeded tolernce and now every part is irritated.

What makes it worse is that I do not even cry for one clean reason now, which would at least make sense. It used to be one event, one loss, one insult, one actual cause. Now it is procedural and embarassing. I spill coffee, I cry. I answer a message, I cry. I cannot find socks, I cry, which is pathetic and yes I know it sounds stupid as hell. Last week I cried in the shower so long my legs felt weak after and I had to sit on the floor because standing felt too complex for me at that point. Yesterday I cried before eating, during eating, and after, which is disgusting and probably not ideal if we are pretending I am a functioning person. My appetite is unstable. My stomach does this acid thing, then hollow, then nausea, then nothing. Sleep is fragmented and thin. Concentration is bad. I read the same line three times and still do not absorb it. Cognition feels blunted, like every crying episode strips off one more layer of function and leaves me dumber and slower. Maybe I am overstatng it. Maybe I am not. I doubt everything now, including basic symptoms, because being like this makes you feel insane and cheap. But I can still observe facts. I get headaches, facial pain, shaky hands, fatigue, dry mouth, a sore throat, and this ugly emotional hangover that does not clear by morning. I become rude because I am tired and honestly angry. I sound formal because if I say it plain I will probably just start swearing like a complete animal. So here is the direct version. I do not know how my body could react if this keeps going. Maybe nothing dramatic happens. Maybe I just keep degrading in these small, mean, stupid ways until this becomes my standard operating condition. That thought scares me more than one big collapse, actualy. Slow failure is still failure, and I am tired of pretending this is just sadness when it feels more like prolonged physical malfunction.

so, here I am, wondering if you can just, you know, wake up one day outta the blue and suddenly have OCD??! i'm no expert, but honestly, it kinda feels like it. i mean, i've always been a bit of a neat freak, but lately, it's like another level, folks. ever been caught up in something so intense that it almost feels like it just snuck up on you and smacked you in the face? that's what i'm dealing with right now.

it's like, now i can't even leave the freakin' house without checking everything, like, a thousand times. door locked? check. stove off? check. sanity intact? eh, who knows at this point. 😅 it’s wild, and honestly, it makes me think: can this really just happen later in life, or am i just losing my marbles? like, isn't OCD something you're either born with or not? why is my brain suddenly acting like it's under a microscope?

but, here's the thing: i'm not about to let this get me down. not a chance in hell. in a way, it's kinda fascinating how my mind's shifting gears, and yeah, maybe it's annoying as hell, but it also feels like a journey of self-discovery. and let's be real, who isn't down for a bit of a challenge now and then? i mean, my life's not falling apart or anything; it's just kinda evolving, if that makes any sense.

anyways, i'm figuring if it is actually OCD creeping in, then there's gotta be some way to handle this without losing my cool. ain't nobody got time to be stuck in their own head all day, right? 😆 so maybe it's time to cut myself some slack, try to lighten up, and see where this rabbit hole ends. you ever find yourself caught up in a similar loop? it's like swimming upstream, but, hey, one of us might as well find a way to laugh about it;

bottom line, i'm not letting this whole suspected-OCD-rabbit-hole thing dictate my life. sure, it feels like my brain’s playing tricks on me, but it's also kinda pushing me to grow a bit more. so to anyone else out there who’s suddenly questioning why their world’s started spinning in new directions— maybe it's not just a pain in the ass, maybe it's an opportunity to embrace what makes us tick. a twist in the plot that keeps things uh, 'scintillating' and kinda interesting, if you will. here's to rolling with the punches and feeling a bit less crazy in the process.

So I was sexually assaulted, abused and groomed at a very young age by another minor she was my best friend and everything she did to me I struggle with being hypersexual and suicidal + I cannot like myself or be healthy in a friendship with anyone I keep hurting the people around me and I am a very very bad person she made me this version of me and to this day I think it's my fault for being naive enough to let her ruin me I still look at that little girl and think she's so stupid she's getting beaten up on a daily, bullied, humiliated, forced to think she's disgusting, ugly and whatever else you can think of the night I got assaulted it was the only time I was allowed to sleep at her house she was weird the whole day making me change in front of her because girls must show each other everything I made it clear I didn't want to and it led to her taking off my shirt and fondling me this night ruined my sexual drive I have an addiction now and I absolutely feel disgusting and hate myself my body and my life but I want to continue living and to be happy so if anyone is reading this please help me through text (sorry for little to no punctuation and shitty grammar I am not from an English speaking country)

I'm scared of dying in my sleep, knowing that it can happen at any time. And you wouldn't even know because you won't wake up if it happens,

you lay in bed and close your eyes, ready to go to bed and wake up the next morning but the fear sometimes lingers with me. Which sounds stupid when you say it out loud because it would be the most peaceful way to go right?

but at the same time, i feel like to me it's the hardest way. Not the aftermath of it, but just knowing it could happen and what others would think. You don't get to say goodbye, you can't give a last message. What would my online friends think? that i ghosted them but in reality i died?

It's the being afraid of dying before living life to my fullest. What if i die before getting to live as a guy? before i come out. If the last thing they know me as is a girl when all i want to be seen as is a guy. Is that just part of the fear? the fear of dying, but also the fear of leaving things unfinished. Like there’s still so much you haven’t gotten to do yet? I know i will die someday but it's always a feeling that stays because what if i don’t get the chance to be me before that happens?

It’s just one of those thoughts that makes everything feel a little more real than i want it to feel. Sometimes i'm stuck staring at the ceiling trying to distract myself with the thought that i will wake up. But my brain just circles back like it’s looking for an answer that doesn’t exist. Because you won't know if you don't wake up.

Am i just afraid of dying young? and is there a way to ease this feeling a little?

I'm 16 years old ftm and gay.

I've accepted myself ever since i've figured out i was trans, i've always been an ally of the lgbtqia+ community and i always will be.

The thing i struggle with is hearing all the negative comments about the trans community and about the lgbtqia+ community in general. Because no matter where you are there will always be someone who doesn't accept it. I understand people have different views of things, but why do we normalise hatred so much? love is love and trans men are men. And the same goes for trans women they ARE women.

It fills me with rage that people can't let other people be who they are. You don't choose to be trans or gay, it's not a choice and it isin't just something that can be 'fixed'. Hearing people say things like "being gay is just wrong" or "being trans is bullshit" really hurts. I don't judge people for being straight, because love is love right?Why should we bring someone down just because they don't fit the standard?

I personally don't watch the last of us but why would you cast someone who is cis to play the role of someone who is trans? it WILL hurt the trans community, because to someone people it will be seen as "trans men ARE women" when they are NOT. They had the opportunity to cast a trans ftm teen, and to some people it isin't that serious. But it IS that serious. We deserve good representation and i wish that other people could see that we are human too.

We aren't freaks, no it's not just a phase we are going through, just because we don't fit the so called 'norm' doesn't mean we don't deserve to be treated the same way.

Alright, so I'm 39 and trying not to freak out, but it's hard not to feel like something ominous is scribbled across my life's blueprint. could it be the algorithm of stress, or maybe just the faulty wiring in my overthinking brain? the days scrape by and I've got this stupid itch, like a ticker tape in my head whispering "tick-tock, hun, something's coming." you ever stand in the shower and just watch the water swirl down the drain while wondering if you're circling right down with it??? bizarre, right? but seriously, what the hell is this gut-churning sense of doom that just lounges in my living room like it pays rent?

i blame it on the 'midlife crisis' stigma, which surely must be some twisted rite of passage. but i don't own a convertible or an absurdly-priced leather jacket, just a morbid fascination with my own mortality. is there an existential influencer somewhere saying, "and now you'll dread your birthday cake candles"? at this age, you'd think I'd have unlocked some dispassionate wisdom from life's inventory, but nah, feels like i'm playing a video game with a walkthrough written in pencil!!! like howdy, could someone patch this glitch, please? no cheat codes here, just wish I could delete this morose save file, you know?

but here's the thing, if i dust off my therapist's favorite cliches, it's like hitting pause and rebooting with optimism... "change is good!" or that irritating serene vibe of "you've got this." tedious but they might be onto something!!! i mean, statistically, with all the variables, I could live to garden with my grandkids, dodging any hardware bug life throws my way. don't you think it's hilarious how we can be both the protagonist and the heckler in our life’s script? maybe we're all just late-night telethon hosts, presenting dramatic predictions about the apocalypse of our souls. pfft, if i can troubleshoot systems as complicated as my own, enjoying that last cookie guilt-free seems doable enough. maybe, just maybe, this isn't some final destination trailer after all, but just a low-budget pilot for figuring out what it means to really live!

i have been sh free for four years and that ended today. but today i realized almost everyday for the past four years ive thought about sh or wanting to kms but i just convinced myself that the depression diagnoisis is wrong and that im happy and content with my life when everything has been wrong. everyday i wake up and wish i died in my sleep or driving to school in a car crash or maybe something would fall on me or i would just be unlucky and fall through a floor or something. ive never told this to anyone ever. my world has been crashing down on me this year i hate me i hate college apps i hate life and school and everything. i am confused and sad and tired. help