Health and Wellness Failures Stories - page 2

What the hell is happening in my own house?? I used to think I had it together—career, family, routine. But lately, I wake up already exhausted, and it’s not because of work or age. It’s these damn teenage kids!!! Every day is a damn psychological battle!!! Mood swings, slammed doors, sarcastic answers, zero respect for boundaries!!! And don’t get me started on screen time—why the hell am I always the bad guy for setting limits??? I try to keep calm, but my voice always ends up shaking, like my whole system’s on overload. Hormones?? Sure. But what about mine?? Am I supposed to just keep absorbing the chaos until I crack?? Is that the plan?? Because it sure feels like it.

Even basic things like dinner or chores turn into full-blown negotiations!!! I’m not their damn project manager!!! I ask for plates to be cleared, and somehow I’m triggering a “mental health episode”??? I didn’t sign up for emotional hostage situations every evening!!! And don’t give me that “gentle parenting” crap—I’m not trying to be their friend, I’m trying to keep the household running without going clinically insane!!! Do they see what they’re doing??? Or am I the only one who’s drowning in this mess??? I walk into their rooms and it smells like puberty and rebellion had a baby. I’m not even trying to fix them anymore. I’m just trying not to lose myself in the process.

So yeah, I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll snap and not come back from it. I have intrusive thoughts I don’t want. I hear my own voice and don’t recognize it. Ever feel that?? Like you’re watching yourself spiral but still expected to drive carpool and make dentist appointments??? I go through the motions like a damn automaton, but inside, I’m questioning my own stability every five minutes!!! Is this what it looks like before you lose your mind??? Or am I already halfway there??!! I don’t need a diagnosis or sympathy. I just needed to write this out before I scream at a wall or throw my phone at something. Maybe someone out there gets it. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter.

I am unsure how to begin but I guess it’s something that has been staying inside for a while now and I need to let it out??? I am 32 years old, male, and in a situation where things are not as I would prefer them to be; not terrible or tragic or chaotic — just not what I expected, not fulfilling, not truly aligned with what I believed life would look like at this point. I go to work, I come home, I eat, I sleep, and then I repeat, and while the routine itself is not harmful or unhealthy or anything, it lacks warmth, it lacks color, it lacks anything that feels meaningful!!! Is that what growing up is about??? Being stable but entirely emotionally neutral??? Because if it is, I’m not happy!!!

My days feel long but the weeks fly by — isn’t that odd??? I sit at my desk, handle all my responsibilities, stay polite with coworkers, I answer calls, I go to meetings, I complete my tasks in time, and then I go home, and when I get there, it’s not like anything is waiting for me. It’s not depressing, it’s just flat. I don’t hate my life, but I certainly don’t love it either. There is no one waiting at home to talk to me, and I do not have the energy to reach out to others — not because I don’t care, but because I just don’t know what I would even say. “Hi, how are you?” seems fake. “Can we talk?” seems too much. I cook dinner, or I order something when I’m too tired, and I sit alone while I eat and scroll on my phone, but I don't even care what I’m looking at??? Why do we do this???

Weekends are the strangest part of it all. People look forward to them, don’t they??? Two days to do what you want — but what is it I even want anymore??? I used to go on hikes or meet with friends, but now everyone is busy or married or away or just not in that headspace. I clean my apartment, I do laundry, I water my plants — yes, I have plants, and they’re still alive somehow, which makes me feel like I’m doing okay, at least at the bare minimum. Sometimes I try new recipes or reorganize my shelves just to make the hours pass faster. It’s like I’m filling time with filler tasks, not because I want to but because I don’t want to sit still and think too much. But is that living??? Or just not dying???

I understand this all probably sounds dramatic but I assure you I am just being honest. I’m not sad. I’m not angry. I’m not even really anxious, which surprises me. I just... feel muted. And I think there must be other people out there who feel the same and maybe they also don’t talk about it much??? Maybe they’re sitting in their living rooms wondering what the point is, and wondering if they should be grateful for the peace or resentful for the emptiness. I’m not asking for sympathy — just wondering out loud, typing it here, hoping someone might read this and nod and say “yeah, same.” That would be enough for me!!! Just knowing someone out there understands, without needing to fix it or change it or judge it.

Still, I try to look ahead. I make lists of things to do that I might enjoy. I signed up for a language course — maybe learning something new will help, maybe meeting people through that will shift something. I even started jogging again last week, and my legs hated it but I kind of liked the effort, the movement, the sweat. It reminded me I’m still in there somewhere, still alive. I think hope doesn’t always come from big dreams or sudden joy, sometimes it’s just the choice to keep trying, even when it feels pointless; I’ll keep showing up, doing small things, adjusting when I can, and maybe eventually, things will feel lighter. Maybe that’s the point??? Not to feel amazing all the time, but just to keep moving until something clicks. Are you also not happy??? Maybe we’re not alone in this.

not gonna lie, 37 doesn't feel anything like what i thought it would. sure, i'm older and theoretically wiser, but when it comes to self-worth? it's like i'm stuck back in high school, constantly questioning if i'm enough. i mean, you’d think by now i'd have it figured out, right? maybe it's just me, but society keeps pushing this insane idea that by a certain age, we should have it all together. yet here i am, feeling like a complete failure in various aspects of my life.

sometimes i wonder if it's society setting the bar so damn high, or if i'm just incompetent. ever feel like you're just going through the motions, ticking boxes but not actually moving forward? that's been my reality for a while. career-wise, i’m stuck in a job that's more soul-sucking than rewarding. my friends joke about their "real" jobs while i'm over here hustling in something that pays the bills but kills the spirit. who knew following passions could lead to this much existential dread? 🙃 how many others are out there, grappling with the same silent despair because they haven't “made it” yet?

and don't even get me started on relationships. it's not that i'm desperate for companionship, but sometimes the societal pressure feels like a chokehold. those phrases like "biological clock" and "settle down" aren't just words, they start to feel like accusations. even my family, who mean well, toss in their two cents every goddamn time we talk. as if i haven't considered it all before, as if i'm oblivious to the endless cycle of tantrums at family dinners. can they not see i’d figure it out if i could? the audacity! i swear, if i hear another "when are you going to settle down?" again, i might scream. am i really the only one who feels this exhausted by it all?

the worst part? social media. it's a double-edged sword that's mostly torture. scrolling through endless posts of other people’s curated versions of success just fuels the sense of inadequacy. everyone looks like they’re winning at life, and it’s hard not to compare yourself to yet another “inspirational” story. it’s as if speaking about feeling worthless online is the last taboo. why pretend to be perfect when nobody actually has their shit together? it's baffling. can we just agree that being in your late thirties is a confusing mess, and maybe it's okay to admit it sometimes?

so here i am, 37, female, feeling lost and stuck, but still trudging forward. does it ever get better, or are we all just faking it until we make it? who knows. i've accepted that maybe there's no one-size-fits-all answer and that maybe, just maybe, the key is to stop giving a damn about what everyone else thinks. a person can only handle so much “constructive criticism” before it just becomes noise. until i figure it all out, i’ll keep venting here. thanks for reading, whoever you are.

I’m a reallyyyy shallow person I feel like my feelings are fake and I know on some level that’s impossible but I always have no idea what is foing on with me and I’m scared to say anything about it aloud. Not because I think I have to deal with it alone but because it’s fickle and it’s gross I don’t like it I really don’t understand it.

I swear I can feel my forehead. and my head gets stuck in these hell spells where there is a thought that physically weighs on my brain it hurts and it won’t stop till it drills me into accepting or complying to its will even if I don’t agree with it. there is something swimming in my head it drives me crazy . As much as I joke about my forgetfulness forgetting so much is fucking awful bc, again, you know this, I know this, but it keeps happening anyway with any problem I have, I’ll lose my train of thought or I’ll forget details of how a situation played out in about a day. I’ll know on a surface level what happened but it’s like killll meee I can’t even be miserable without my dumbass intervening somehow

Dude I cant see anything that happens to me as bad afterwards it’s like ‘wow… that’s an event.’ but when people confirm so its like holy whiplash I wanna take back anything I said so fast because everything’s fine, it genuinely is sometimes but it’s not at the same time

Because if i stop thinking about it it’s gone and if i wear someone else’s skin, even just for a while, i won’t have that problem in the first place

I’m in this cycle where I hate living like this I hate me I hate everything, then it’s all perfect and I wonder why I had ever thought this way until it comes right back again. I cant do this anymore I swear it hurts too much this is killing me it is going to kill me one day

I wrote this slop sometime last night im fine again. it’s not explained well but I know it will only keep coming back (this is happening so often in the span of a week), any opinion appreciated im just lost. does anybody feel the same? does anybody know what is happening? does anybody know how to make it stop?

Man, I've hit my forties, and you'd think by now I'd have life all figured out. But nah, I'm still struggling with this one thing: sleep. I'm just here wondering why on earth I can't sleep even though I'm dead tired. It's like, come on body, work with me here! Like, ever had those nights where you're so freaking exhausted, you just want to crash, but your brain's like, “Nope, not today, buddy!” Seriously, what gives???

I mean, I've tried all those tips and tricks, you know? Warm milk, counting sheep, no caffeine after lunch. Heck, I've even tried listening to those soothing ocean sounds, but nah, my brain's like a hyper monkey jumping branches. Why is it always 3 AM when your mind wants to revisit that embarrassing thing you did in third grade? Anyone else relate to this?? Sometimes I wonder if it's just my age catching up with me or if there's some other cosmic joke playing out. My doctor says it's stress or, maybe, it's my diet. But let me tell you, even when I've had a chill day, this brain isn't ready to hit the snooze button.

Here's a funny story: Back in the day, in my twenties, I could party all night, sleep like a baby, and be up and running the very next day! Those were the days, huh? Now, if I stay up past 10 PM, I pay for it with full-on sleepless nights. Oh, the irony! It's like my body's saying, "Remember all those late nights? Payback time!" Anyway, I guess it happens to the best of us. Maybe it's all part of life's grand plan. Are we all just sleepless zombies muddling through??

Honestly, it's not all doom and gloom. I've started embracing this extra "me time" at night. Sometimes, I get up, grab a cup of herbal tea, and just enjoy the quiet of the house. I've started keeping a journal by my bed—more like scribbles than actual writing, but hey, it helps. Random thoughts, ideas, things I want to do the next day. It’s become this weirdly soothing ritual, and dare I say, it gives me hope! Maybe you guys should try it too if you’re in the same boat. You never know, it might just click!!!

And who knows? Perhaps this sleepless journey is taking me somewhere. Like, maybe there's a reason behind all of this night-time contemplation. Could be I'm destined to have some great epiphany. Maybe I'm chasing something bigger than just sleep. They say the darkest hour is just before dawn, right? So, I'm keeping my chin up, hoping for that dawn to come. After all, isn't life about finding balance? It's all about rolling with the punches, despite the midnight madness, or lack thereof!

(T.w.: Mentions of Self Harm)

Alright! I had a history of self harm when I was younger, but stopped after a couple of years, but then a couple of months ago I was feeling upset with myself and insane guilt especially when it came to my studying, so I thought of ways I could " punish" myself when i didnt study so that I relieve myself of the intense guilt, like basically consequences for my actions, and my brain was like why not self harm? So I went back to it. It felt so good?,after I finish and sit with the pain I would be reminded that I paid of my dues and thus there is no reason to feel guilty, then I would go study and the pain would be a very nice reminder.

I was always careful, just cutting enough to bleed but not a huge scar, i didnt want anyone to know and think im asking for attention..

BUT one day, same thing happened, I didn't study so I went to self harm then planned to start studying immediately, but I dont know what I did differently that time? I cut myself and suddenly I'm seeing the pink of the dermis and a pretty long cut with lots of blood.. long story short, I needed stitches, had to tell my parents a very odd story of me somehow falling on glass? and went to the doctor.. I didnt even end up getting stitches, because I waited for 3 days before I fessed up and it was too late, but it was infected and so I was put on antibiotics. Very likely I'll scar for life. It felt like I was being branded for my mistakes and the control was taken away from me. I didn't allow myself to think about it for the next 2 weeks... and I couldnt for the life of me get myself to study eventhough I had a very large exam. I hated how it was gapping, how it opened when I moved, I didn't want to see it or feel it. If I try to get myself to get over it I would get these intrusive thoughts of putting a knife into it till I reached the bone. ( I would never ever do that) I didn't care about the wound itself, infact if I got it by an accident or so I wouldnt have been that bothered by it, but the fact that I caused harm, even to my own body this way was so ? Jarring ?? I know its pretty late in the story to mention this, but I am a medical student. It felt like... I didn't deserve to be a doctor, that I can't possibly be.. Eventhough I put so much effort to get in. Anyway back to the story, even when I procrastinated in the past I never lost control as much as I felt this time, and despite the exam looming close I never could get myself to study properly.. so I sorta didn't. Eventhough I wouldve never studied this way in the past, no matter where I was I would always put in enough effort atleast. The worst exam ive ever given in my life. And I can't even get myself to think about it. I don't know how will I ever forgive myself for all this, it just feels like the self hatred is building and I dont know where I stand. Marks are very important where I am in life right now, imagining that I would ruin my future because of this mistake is like?

Eventhough deep down i dont believe in this, I completely believe everything happens for a reason and for a good one, but I just can't for the life of me stomach the haterd, guilt and blaming I feel for myself.

How do I forgive myself for all this? Can I ever be a good doctor the way i am? How will I ever regain control? I lost it, over my body, over my studying... i have no trust in myself anymore.

Life can feel impossibly heavy sometimes. I am 46 years old, and while I can’t claim to know exactly what you're going through, I do know the shape of pain. I’ve carried it, too. I’ve sat alone in the dark hours wondering if things would ever get better, or if this—this version of life filled with loss, fear, or doubt—was all there would be. But I’m still here, and so are you. That’s not nothing. In fact, it’s the first and most important thing. You’re still here. That means hope still lives within you, even if it’s quiet and hiding.

What you are facing today may feel endless. You might be reading this because everything hurts more than you expected. And maybe you're wondering if it ever stops, if people really come out the other side. I won’t lie to you and say it’s easy or that it ends quickly. Some pain leaves slowly; some parts of us change along the way. But what I can promise is that healing is not a myth. It’s not reserved for the lucky. It’s real, and it finds its way into lives even when it seems impossible. Sometimes, we don’t even notice the moment things begin to shift—until one day, we wake up and the weight is just a little lighter.

I read many stories here. Stories of heartbreak, of confusion, of people feeling forgotten. I want to say something very simple to each of you: it’s going to be okay. Not perfect, not always clear—but okay. Life doesn’t always tie itself into neat conclusions, but it does offer us new chapters. You have to stay long enough to see them. Please, hang in there. Do not let a temporary moment convince you that things are permanently broken. I’ve seen change in my own life—when I had no job, no partner, no direction—and I found a path again, slowly. You can too; I truly believe that.

So if you are in that dark place right now, please ask yourself: what would happen if I gave tomorrow one more chance? Maybe that’s all you need to do today—just make the decision to continue. Take rest when you need it. Let your heart mend at its own pace. You don’t have to be strong every minute. You just have to keep showing up for yourself. And if no one has told you today, let me be the one to say: you matter. Your pain matters. Your story is not over ❤️

ever had that feeling when you're just so anxious, like the world’s closing in, and then suddenly you're burning up with fever? so, i was just wondering if anxiety can actually cause a fever or if it’s all in my head. i'm 17 and honestly, the thought's been bugging me for a while now. whenever i have a big test coming up, or something stressful happens, i start feeling really hot. maybe it’s the nerves? i always thought fever was more about being sick, but it’s hard to ignore when you’re sweating buckets, right? it’s not like i’m shivering or anything, but i get so warm and it's all downhill from there; really messes with my focus and everything.

i asked some friends but they kinda just shrugged it off, saying everyone gets stressed sometimes. but like, isn’t there a point where your body's just like, "hey, take a chill pill"? i mean, isn’t it kind of ridiculous that my body reacts this way over school stuff? my mom thinks i’m just being dramatic, and maybe i am, but hey, a fever’s a fever, isn’t it? i’ve tried to keep cool, literally, like staying in air-conditioned rooms and stuff, but it doesn't always help. hmu if anyone else feels like their anxiety’s got a thermostat of its own, because i'd love to know if this is just a “me” problem or if it’s something more common. does anyone else get those anxiety sweats, or am i just out here dealing with my body on extreme mode? anyway, if i figure it out, i’ll definitely share what’s up. peace out!

Ever wonder if anyone, and who would come looking, if you disappeared? I think no one would come looking for me.

I honestly hate myself so much. What I’m not changing I’m choosing right? And I hate even that too. I hate that I’m fat, my tooth is chipped. I’m not pretty. I’m unattractive in every aspect possible of a human. Even my personality is ugly. I haven’t dated in 7 years. No one found me good enough because I’m not good enough for anything. Even now nearing my 30s I’m still lost in life. It just seems like every day is a drag. Dragging along in life just hating everything and myself. I have no friends. I eat too much I drink too much. Everything just sucks. I’ve been getting a lot of rejection to the point where I feel like I’ll eventually just end up with someone below my league due to me being this hideous inside and out. I won’t be happy. Will I ever be happy? It seems I’ll end up alone at this rate. I try to tell myself there’s nothing wrong with that.. but will I be content with myself in the end of it all? Or will I crave for connections?

it’s been a quiet kind of question growing louder in my head: am I transgender? I’m 25, biologically female, and for a long time, I didn’t really question that. I did what was expected — grew my hair long, wore dresses when the occasion called for it, and played the part of a girl just fine. but over time, small thoughts started piling up. I’d avoid mirrors some days, or feel oddly disconnected from my reflection. I don’t hate my body — it’s more like... indifference? like I’m occupying something that isn’t mine but also not foreign enough to fully reject. I hear people use “she” and it doesn’t sting, but it also doesn’t fit. when someone once referred to me as “they” by mistake, I felt seen in a way I didn’t even realize I craved. how weird is that?! is that enough to question everything?

I’ve been reading and listening to people’s stories — memoirs like Detransition, Baby and YouTube creators like Ty Turner and Jamie Raines — and honestly, their feelings mirror mine more than any cis woman I know. it’s not about hating femininity; it’s about not feeling entirely rooted in it. sometimes I think maybe I’m nonbinary, other days I wonder if I’d feel more like myself with a flat chest and a lower voice. it’s not dysphoria that screams — it’s more like a whisper that never shuts up. I’ve even tried visualizing a future where I transition, and surprisingly, it doesn’t feel scary or wrong. it feels calm. like breathing easier. but then I second guess myself — what if I’m just making this up? what if I’m confusing admiration with identity? ugh, does everyone go through this kind of mental gymnastics??

I haven’t talked to anyone in my real life about it yet. it feels too abstract, like I need more “proof” or clarity before bringing others in. but I know questioning is valid. I know that not being sure doesn’t make my thoughts any less real. a quote I read recently stuck with me: “You don’t have to have dysphoria to be trans. You just have to know who you are.” and I guess I’m in the middle of figuring that out. maybe this is a journey without a destination — just learning, adjusting, exploring. and for now, that feels okay 🙂 if you’ve gone through this too, how did you know? did it hit you all at once, or did it sneak up like it did for me??

hi. I don't really want to vent to a friend nor family like my parents and my siblings(they're the closest family to me if I ever refer to family again just know I'm only referring to them) so I'm venting on here. I don't really want to vent to them because I don't want to burden them and I just don't want their advice or reassurance. I just want someone to understand what I'm feeling which I know my friends will but still.

here's why I feel like a horrible person

The thing about me is that I ALWAYS procrastinate until the last minute. It doesn't matter what it is. It's not like I think procrastinatig is cool, anything but that actually. I rather be a hardworking person but everything around me just feel so hard to resist. I feel like I SEEK dopamine 24/7. I barely study like I only study last minute and it feels horrible because I actually gets good grade. I feel like I don't deserve this good of a grade when I clearly see that others that get lower grade than me worked even harder. I know the grade thing will probably change soon and I will mess up one day and finally get something that matches my efforts. I actually happened to get to be a monitress which honestly I don't think people really think it's that big of a deal anymore but I really don't think I deserve it. At first, there was only me but then my class teacher convinced someone else to join. I think I got it because people felt pity for me, I'd definitely vote for the other girl if I wasn't one of the choices. She was hardworking, charismatic and very positive. Loud, cheerful and responsible, that's what a good monitress should be. I feel like the opposite to be honest, I volunteered just because I got a rush of confidence that I'm competent for it and I can improve myself if I were one but I was wrong. I'm such a irresponsible person. I've been late to school many times not because of medical issues but because I woke up late. Sometimes, when I accidentally do something wrong, I'd blame my family members (I mean not really blaming but like for example, "oh, because of 'smth', this happened") I just feel like nobody can rely on me because I'll always mess something up.

Also, I have super random mood swings. I feel like I get mood swings even more lately, and it's not like I want them. I mean who would want to be miserable. I get mad at the smallest shit ever like I'd be pissed if I knew somebody like me. For friends, I don't really act mad IN FRONT of them when they did something that piss me off because I don't want to seem like a horrible person so I just try to brush it off and not talk to them that much since I don't want to accidentally show that I'm mad. For family, I feel a bit more comfortable to express my frustration to because they can't just dump me one day you know. So most of the time, I'll just be acting like an asshole, acting frustrated with a high pitched voice telling them to stop annoying me or like just anything. I love my family so I want to treat them properly but I can't. Fyi, I have good moments with my family I just act like this sometimes.

One more thing, I'm like super shy. I've experienced countless interactions that just felt super embarrassing for me to even think off because they were just horrible. Yesterday, I had a french speaking exam(finals). I tried to convince myself everything would be fine but it was absolutely horrible. I couldn't understand some of the questions and I had the dumbest grammar mistake I could've ever made. After I finished, the teacher told me to call the other person so I did. I didn't want the teachers to notice my tears so I lowered my head then walked out. Unexpectedly, one of the teacher walked into the room and noticed me crying so she comforted me which was nice but didn't really help much.(or did it I'm not sure myself) One thing that really pissed me off was that one of the teacher had a high expectation for me. He even said he'll count on me. The only thing I can think of him right now is that he had an unrealistic expectation for me because I don't only suck at french speaking. I suck at everything related to speaking in general. Some of my friends texted me if I was fine and honestly I don't know. After I went home, I immediately got online and asked an online best friend to game. We talked and stuff. I did feel better afterwards.

I'll be connecting that accident to another quality I have. I CAN'T THINK CRITICISM AT ALL. I mean I knew I did something wrong but then I'll just say ok in a natural tone then crash out(be mad and cry ugly) by myself later. I actually appreciate comments about improving myself but I just cringe every time I read them. My English teacher would always put comments for writings and honestly I can't read them at all but I need to do I just silently cringe while looking at the comments. A part of me probably thinks I'm better than everyone which I don't think so. (this is so contradictory) Like I'm just so overly sensitive. It's even annoying me.

Probably the last point I'll mention here today, I honestly can't see why anyone would want to be friends with me. When I ask my friends why do they want to be friends with me, they often reply with a you're kind. I don't see it at all after all that points I've made do you, yes you the reader actually think I'm kind?. Sure, I've done many things for my friends but that's just basic courtesy compared to things they've done for me. I even reply to my friends text late sometimes just because I don't have the energy to text them.

By the way, I don't know why I do these or feel like this because I don't think I grew up with a abusive household or anything. I didn't grow up with the best parents ever but I think they're good compared to others. I didn't get bullied. I have supportive friends. but honestly I don't really think I have a lot of friends I mean like my friends would help but I'm probably not their no.1 choice if you know what I mean. It's like I'm left alone. I don't know why I'm SUPER shy. I've never asked to be shy, I want to be confident. I don't think I have social anxiety or anything because I can interact with my friends just fine. I don't want to exaggerate anything because I know they are billions of people suffering more than I'll ever be so yeah. This is the end of my rant, pretty long but I got it off my chest.

It’s weird to even say this out loud, but I got a tattoo to cover my self-harm scars. And honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. The whole idea started off as something empowering, like reclaiming my body, right? You know the line, “Your skin is your story”—some therapist threw that out years ago during one of my low points. It stuck. I thought maybe, just maybe, putting something beautiful over something so painful would help change the narrative. So I chose a design I’d doodled in a journal years ago—something abstract but meaningful, sort of a fractured mandala, each line connecting past and present. The artist was kind and didn't ask too many questions, just looked me in the eye and said, “We’ll make this a transformation piece.” That sounded nice. Better than what it really was: me trying to hide from myself in ink and pain management creams.

Now that it’s been a few weeks, I stare at it and feel conflicted. The tattoo is well done—technically clean, good contrast, smart shading—but the scars are still visible beneath it. Not physically, not if you’re just glancing. But I know they’re there. That skin holds memory like film holds shadows, and even the pigment can’t overwrite the fact that I hurt myself deliberately, over and over, for years. Sometimes I catch my reflection and wonder who I’m trying to fool. Is this ink for healing, or just another form of concealment? It’s a question I keep circling, like a moth around a porchlight. I'm 38 now. Not a kid experimenting with identity. Not a teenager struggling with trauma she couldn’t name. A grown adult who still can't quite figure out what to do with all this leftover pain.

The part I didn’t expect was how other people would respond. Friends said things like “Wow, that’s powerful” or “It’s so meaningful,” like they were in on some secret spiritual moment. I smiled and nodded and said things like “Yeah, it represents growth,” but I never corrected them when they assumed it was just art for art’s sake. One coworker even said, “That’s dope, did it hurt?” and I just laughed and said “Not more than the stuff it’s covering.” He didn’t get it. And maybe I didn’t want him to. The truth is, there's a whole subculture around tattooing over scars, and it's not always about covering things up—sometimes it's about honoring survival. But I’m not sure if I survived something, or if I just stalled it.

I know this might come across as ungrateful or overly cynical, especially since not everyone gets a second chance to rewrite their skin. But what if rewriting isn't enough? What if healing isn't about erasing the past but learning to live with it in broad daylight? Some days I think I did the right thing—turned something painful into something beautiful, like alchemy. Other days, I feel like I’ve just added another mask, one that requires constant touch-ups and explanation. I'm not embarrassed by the scars anymore, but I am tired of what they represent: all those years spent pretending I was fine, when I was really just holding myself together with caffeine and denial.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is—if you’re thinking about getting a self-harm tattoo, ask yourself why. Like really, why. Is it closure? Is it expression? Is it shame in disguise? Maybe it’s a mix of all those. I can’t tell you the right answer because I still don’t know mine. All I know is that ink fades slower than memory, and covering something up doesn’t always mean it’s healed. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe healing isn’t linear. But I do wish someone had told me that before I sat down in that studio, gripping the chair like it was gonna save me.

Literally whenever i try to comfort anybody they never respond or they just say something totally unrelated, which i dont mind but i wanna see someone happy, i wanna save someone, not for any selfish reasons, because it makes me happy when others are happy. (A picture of Kanade fades in/j)

I LITERALLY HAVE NO HOBBIES, I FEEL LIKE MY FRIENDS HATE ME, IM BAD AT ART, WHEN IM IN FANDOM SPACES IM SCARED TO TALK TO ANYONE CUZ OF MY SEVERE AHH SOCIAL ANXIETY BRO💔 also my family is broken apart ahahahhelpme