Health and Wellness Failures Stories

I'm not proud of it, but I'm man enough to say it: as someone who's had to struggle for my education, in my social life/interactions as a black woman, and honestly life in general due to my mental health and depression, I get a deep seated irritation for people who are deeply insecure (just like I am) when they're doing so much better in life than I am. And before someone tells me that the grass is greener on the other side, or that I don't know what other people are going through, I already know. It's just that I honestly feel so deeply alone sometimes, especially in my college and sorority. No one else I know around me has had to work 3-4 jobs to pay for their education, no one I know has had their grades dip because they have to juggle working and school. No one else that I interact with on a daily basis has had such awful experiences with men like I've had. Everyone is insecure, yet it seems to me like everyone else just fits in better that I do. The amount of times my friends tell me about their new internship/job/boyfriend and how well it's going is amazing. I'm simultaneously happy and envious of them. Why can't that happen to me? What am I doing wrong? I try and put 110% effort into everything I do, and yet I feel like I have not nearly as much to show for it. On top of that, I feel so terrible for even feeling envious. I want my friends to succeed, I want them to thrive, I just want to be able to do that too. In my social life I feel like I'm always too much or not enough. I may be part of a group, but I don't feel part of it. Most often I just feel like I'm just there to be there. I feel like no one will miss me if I left. The societal and patriarchal pressure to feel cool, to be liked, and to at least be desired makes me both disgusted with myself and sad. As a Christian, the only person I should be seeking approval from is the Lord, and yet the voices, thoughts, and opinions of others never leave my mind. Am I just not interesting? Am I annoying? I feel like the only way I'm seen is by being funny, and it leads to a lot of people looking down on me as less smart, capable and mature. I feel myself more and more wanting to shrink into nothing, to ghost everyone I know and just transfer schools, or stop going to school entirely. I'm exhausted truthfully, all the time. My back hurts and so does my soul. So when my friends vent to me, I can't help but be annoyed because their issues are mostly caused by their own head. They have so much going for them, what could possibly be wrong? And I know my thinking is wrong too, because compared with others I'm incredibly blessed, but life feels so hard right now and I don't see a way out. I try and act confident and assertive and sure of myself, but I don't feel like it works. Most often I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb, and like I don't belong anywhere. I'm a rising senior in college, and I'm just dreading going back after the summer. I feel like not even my friends would get this if I explained it to them.

I’m 20 years old.

I’m a guy, and up to this day I’ve never had sex. Not because I never wanted to, and not because I don’t have desires or feelings. I simply live in a country where people and the government are extremely sensitive about anything related to sex, to the point that a person has to hide their natural needs like they’re committing a crime.

To be honest, I’ve always been attracted to women older than me. Women who are more mature, experienced, and emotionally intelligent. But every time, there’s either fear of being judged, social restrictions, or the feeling that even having these desires is somehow forbidden.

Sometimes the loneliness becomes exhausting. Pretending everything is normal while inside you’re full of desire, curiosity, frustration, and emotional pressure.

I honestly don’t know what the solution is.

I don’t know how someone is supposed to deal with these feelings when there’s neither the possibility of a healthy relationship nor the freedom to even talk openly about it.

If anyone has advice, experiences, or any kind of solution, I’d genuinely appreciate hearing it.

Been smoking weed every day since 2020. Can’t cope with loneliness, depression and anxiety and now I feel stuck. Quit my job on the spot, I have no money and I just don’t know what to do next

I was feeling extremely suicidal and now I feel extremely numb and it’s pissing me off and I have this strong urge to cut myself I don’t know how to regulate it the sound just keeps lingering. I think this happened because I finally realized that I literally have no friends at all and my brain is just not accepting it. It hurts knowing that the people who ruined me are living a stable and healthy life while I just bedrot and binge all day

you know, I've been cruising around on this application a lot, and I've seen tons of folks saying "this too shall pass," but honestly, I don't 100% get it, like, is it some existential thing or just a fancy phrase to throw around when stuff hits the fan? 🤔 I've seen it on different threads, and it's like an invisible hand trying to pat people on the back when they're down, but does it really work that way? it makes me think: is there a magic moment when you know things are finally over, like some official "passing" ceremony? It's a bit funny, isn't it? when stuff is bad, we kind of hold onto this phrase like it's gonna save the day or something. but then again, when things are good, we're all hoping they don't "pass" like the good times should just hang around forever. It's like needing assurances that bad times are temporary while secretly praying the good stuff stays put. 🙃 Then again, I remember someone said "these too shall pass" while quoting that ancient king who wanted a phrase that'd put things into perspective irrespective of a situation; isn't it wild how something from way back then is like, still relevant now? Our great-grandparents probably even used that line, and now here we are, borrowing from their wisdom. So, maybe it's not about timing but how we perceive situations and hold onto hope; or, is it more about prepping ourselves to ride the ups and downs without freaking the heck out?

In a day-to-day setting, it's helpful in giving people assurance and making them feel like there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but with a seemingly perpetual cycle of passing and waiting for new days or events to occur, how do you stay grounded? sometimes I wonder if it's the world's way of saying also "hey, don't get too comfy," like a gentle nudge that life's dynamic and unpredictable, and that maybe no state of being is set in stone. And then, there are those people who casually drop "this too shall pass" as if they've got some golden master-key for all life's locks, and it makes me chuckle 'cause it's like, no one actually has the entire rule book for surviving life's storms, right? It's like we're all kindergartners in the grand school of life. Plus, the word "pass" sounds so passive and laid-back, almost like we're waiting for a magical transformation that requires no active participation, which is kind of comforting yet peculiar at the same time. Perhaps needing a phrase or philosophy that just sits with you on rough days without leaving a mark can be a strong enough testament to its value. "this too shall pass," even if not instantly comprehensible in its entirety, may indeed hold the soothing balm of enduring hope bundled in mere words, like a lifeline extended through time; and, wouldn't it be crazy if understanding its meaning was less about comprehension and more about how it feels? Seriously, stick those words somewhere prominent and let time scribe their meaning onto your soul with experience. just curious though: how do you guys see it? does it resonate like a silent companion during tough times, or does it all just seem overrated and blown out of proportion, in your opinion? 🤔 because sharing these phrases, seeking clarity, and expanding our grasp could be the start of untangling the threads of such enigmatic maxims. anyways, take care and good luck with the unraveling of life's chaos.

In February my hyper mobile joints in my shoulders decided to give out. Just looking at me, you could tell my shoulders were in the wrong positions. I felt them slip in and out of my socket. until about 4 weeks ago I couldn’t bathe, dress, feed, or go to the bathroom with out my husband doing it for me. For most of that time even the most light touch on my skin was like searing pain. I shaved my head so that I could wash my hair by myself, and sleep comfortably with out it being stuck behind me in places I could not reach. Im a woman. It crushed me to have to do that. I look good, but I’m devasted I had to under these conditions.

I have other chronic conditions that are manageable at home, as a SAHW and then a SAHM. I had bad days, but mostly great days. Until this happened.

Ive started having seizures, I’ve been told it’s probably a mental issue. Stress, anxiety. It hospitalized me before I was given that hunch if answer. Because of how shitty the medical system is, I won’t be able to see neurology until July to get a confirmation on what the hell this is. The events have gone down since my mental health medications have been changed drastically.

And the medical system has shit all over me:

-The only ER for 45 miles has given me intense medical trauma. From dismissing me and sending me home with rude, snide comments about not coming in for this situation. To talking over me purposefully to write down incorrect information on my intake paper work (my husband had to intervene because I was having SEIZURES while this man talked down to me). The same man was going to give me a sedative shot with out telling anyone what he was doing. My primary sent me to that ER urgently for potential cerebral meningitis, insisting I need the spinal tap to be tested, I had the symptoms. The ER refused to test me. That visit they gave me something called a “purewick” incorrectly, TWICE. It’s to vacuum suck away your urine quickly and cleanly when you can’t get up to the bathroom. The first time, the male nurse did it quickly, half assed, and incorrectly. I ended up peeing all over myself. Then it was disconnected to take me for a CT scan. When I was brought back to my room, the tech handed me the purewick back to me, urine side into my barehand, so that I could place it back myself. It went even worse than before. I sat in my own urine for hours, while also being talked down to about needing to use the call button when my symptoms got worse.

-when I was having so many seizures in a row that I couldn’t make it to the car to go the hospital from my 3rd story apartment, we had to call 911. My husband asked dispatch if the EMS could take me to any other hospital besides the one who fucked me up. They said yes. EMS came, talked shit about my room in front of me, refused to let my husband in the room with me (I had been laying in the floor to be in the safest position for seizures, I couldn’t walk to him), and refused to take me to any other hospital. I burst into tears and they ripped into me about it. They took me down the stairs in a stair-wheelchair and my husband had to drive me to a different hospital.

We are trying to get a government funded childcare program to pay for daycare for our toddlers, so that my husband can get a job and be able ti support us again. Since I can’t take care of the kids myself, this is the only way to make it work. The program accepted us, then swiftly denied us, claiming they needed a letter from my physician that I can’t take care of my kids at all. Getting the letter was a fight in and of itself, the family medicine office was refusing to write it themselves, even though the program insisted it had to be from them. Eventually I got the letter. The program said the letter was not enough, because it didn’t use the exact words “cannot take care of her children at all”. And now the dr’s office is flat out refusing to write the letter. They insist I need to go to occupational therapy to get them to write it. The original OT office refused to write it. The dr’s office didn’t believe me when I told them. I had to get the OT to call them directly. I was then referred somewhere else. The same hospital that traumatized me above.

I tried to care for my kids yesterday, to test the waters to see if I could potentially do it for a few days until this is sorted. My shoulders have gotten better enough for me to do plenty of things for myself. I was determined to try. My husband was home, it was only an hour and a half. My shoulders continued to quickly pop in and out of place, and it knocked me off my feet quickly. I woke up today in even worse pain than yesterday, weak. I stood up at one point this morning, stumbled, and accidentally knocked over my youngest in the process. She’s fine, this time.

I’m so angry. I’m so angry at my body. Im so angry at the systems and programs meant to help. I’m tired of feeling awful all the time.

Thanks for reading <3

it's been really tough trying to figure out the right words to comfort my best friend when she's having a panic attack and the hardest part is that we're so far away from each other, sometimes I feel like I'm failing at being a good friend because I don't know if my messages actually help, and it's not like there's a universal script for this, you know? I always wonder whether I'm saying the right things, like, is there even such a thing as the "right thing" when it comes to text messaging during a panic attack? I've read somewhere that it's good to remind them to focus on their breathing, but isn't that kind of obvious? like, maybe they're already trying that but it just doesn't work; I've tried saying things like "remember to breathe" or "try to take deep breaths" but I can't help but feel it's too cliche; Is it really that simple? then there's the whole grounding technique thing, you know, the one where you tell them to list things they can see, hear, and touch, but does it make a difference when you're just typing it out and not there in person to guide them through it? I'm always worried about saying something that might make it worse, like what if I suggest that and it just frustrates her more?

so usually I fall back on letting her know I'm there for her, but I wonder if just saying "I'm here for you" really counts when I'm miles away behind a screen; it's just that none of the words seem to carry enough weight through my phone; someone once told me to remind her that it's temporary, but how can I convince her of that when I'm not even sure myself? I wish I knew what really goes on through her mind in those moments so I could be more helpful, I guess in a way I'm venting about my inability to truly help her through a panic attack via text; I want so desperately to be her anchor in those moments and I guess that's why I try to read more about it, like Reddit's subreddit on mental health or even some articles on psychology websites but nothing seems to fill in that gap of actually knowing what to do; it's always just theories and suggestions, and it's frustrating trying to apply generic advice to someone so unique like her; am I overthinking this, or is messaging just inherently a lacking form of comfort? I think about how much I want to be better at this, more equipped, but maybe I'm focusing too much on knowing exactly what to say and not enough on just being a presence, however virtual it may be; the logical part of me says to keep expressing empathy and validation, that at least those are probably neutral if not helpful, but I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy; like, is there anyone else out there who feels the pressure to always find the perfect words in an imperfect situation? the self-doubt is kind of paralyzing in its own right, makes me wonder if she's ever felt like this too during her anxiety; is it the same sort of paralysis that overcomes her? if I'm being totally honest, there are days when I wish I could just call her battles for what they are (complex and unpredictable) rather than trying to mold them into something understandable; does that make me a bad friend for not "doing my best"? I don't want her to feel unseen or unsupported because of my remote presence; I often think back to the groundwork of friendship, like reliability and listening, but does it all lose its importance over text? what do you think, is there a different framework for dealing with this distance, something more tangible that could provide solace? maybe next time, I'll ask her directly what she wants me to say, although that feels a bit like passing the responsibility; does anyone else struggle with these doubts? sometimes I just wish for a little more clarity in this friendship because supporting someone through a screen is so messy and uncertain; all this has been on my mind a lot lately, and maybe it shows just how deeply I care, even if I haven’t found the right method yet; but still, I keep questioning if her panic attacks ever 'get easier' for her.

I just feel stuck, I feel like I'm not taking control of my life and I'm shaming myself for it which doesn't help but I also feel too lazy to even take control of my life. When I mean take control, I mean I need to stop doing whatever for my parents to keep the peace because it doesn't help me at all, feels like I'm just slowly dying and not fulfilling anything lately. I don't have anyone to talk to, I did try to make friends online but I haven't met anyone that I would consider a friend friend. Plus after a day or even days, I have a hard habit of assuming that people secretly hate me and have no interest so I try and end it. I didn't know this still alive until I noticed I did it again.

I was finally able to get a doctor but I didn't get to talk about how I'm feeling and that I need a therapist, that I'm trans. I actually found out a feminist clinic that caters but idk how I didn't find it before with the amount of searching I did before.

I'm just confused about my emotions, I feel fine and happy sometimes but I also have a bunch of stuff, it just lurks, what I mean is parents that don't like queer people, next steps. It's a reason I'm in no rush, when I feel happy or fine then I assume that I am and then feel overdramatic for trying to get ready to get away from my family as quick as possible.

My parents are toxic people yet feel normal sometimes and if you're feeling and having good times with them, then next you involve your feelings then it's gonna hurt you. When I noticed this when I was younger, I detached to all the interactions because I knew they'll be nice but eventually they'll make you cry over something stupid, make you feel unloved. I don't know how to describe what it's like to live in a house where everything feels normal and you start to feel normal and forget that it's actually not because the people inside the home don't know you and if they ever did then they would hate you. When it's been years, you just forget, they'll keep addressing you how they wanna address you and dress you up how they wanna dress you up and then get angry at you for not enjoying it, and the whole time you'll just feel like your dying. You don't notice until it happens again.

I notice I go through that cycle. I watched the film "I saw the TV glow" at 16 and I watched it again recently. It does fill me with dread and it reminds me that I'm not even living and not even as me.

I have things or goals I could do but I don't, I don't even feel any way about them, I just know they'll be helpful. Driving for example. I just wish I could go back to where I was happy and pretty content with life.

I graduate high school next week, family is doing this big thing. I seen that one of my favorite bands is actually going to the place I'll be around the same time, I wish I could go to that instead. I'm in desperate need of the type of music they make.

Anywho, thanks to anyone who read this and have a great thing! 💖 Anything is appreciated.

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