Health and Wellness Failures Stories - page 4

i've always been told i'm too skinny; like, what does that even mean? i mean, can a person ever be too skinny? it's not like i'm starving myself or anything. i'm just seventeen. so let me set the scene: i stare into my closet and think about all the clothes that look weird because they hang off my frame like i'm some sort of hanger; everything meant to fit snug and cute, instead, it looks like a cheap mannequin display. i'm a girl who loves fashion magazines, but every article about the size zero models makes me feel inadequate and yet too adequate at the same time. it's crazy, isn't it? instead of being happy with my body, i'm constantly criticized by strangers, "eat a cheeseburger" they say with a laugh that tastes as sour as unwarranted judgment. i roll my eyes at those ignorant remarks, but deep down, it leaves a mark, like a permanent tattoo of self-doubt. even my doctor, who's supposed to be reassuring, goes on about my body mass index, like "girl, i know it's below average, but i eat". it's not like i want to be this way, trust me if i could add a few pounds in a blink, i totally would. have you seen how people treat those with curves? like they’ve discovered the holy grail of acceptance; what a world we live in. in gym class, i'm that girl who avoids the scales and cringes at the sight of a tape measure. the reaction from others is usually a mix of concern and envy, both equally unsettling. ever tried sitting at a dinner table with someone who scrutinizes your plate? "is that all you're eating?" – gosh, yes Karen, that’s all i’m eating today, move on! i can't help but feel like "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" where nothing is just right. why is it acceptable to comment on someone being thin but taboo to mention excess weight? what sort of double standard is this society serving us? casually people assume my life is perfect, just because i'm a size that can squeeze into whatever's on the sale rack. my friends talk about thigh gaps and diet fads, but i’d kill just to fill out a pair of jeans properly. dude, ever heard of "skinny shaming"? it's real, and it sucks. the body positivity movement is powerful, and i believe in it, but hey, it’s selective sometimes. everyone rallies for "all shapes and sizes", until it’s a shape and size they think doesn't fit into their narrative. i get it though – i'm not complaining about my health or anything, i know i'm lucky, but can we talk about how i feel for a moment? once, during a biology lecture about metabolism rates, i flinched at the professor’s words, imagining the class thinking i’m some anomaly. when did this competitive, comparative analysis become our new norm? no one seems to grasp that metabolism isn't just another word for magic tricks, it's basic biology, yet i feel judged by my own cellular processes. how insane is that? magazine covers might say "thin is in," but try being seventeen and "in" feels like living under a microscope where every move is critiqued, not celebrated. everyone wants me to meet their subjective ideal instead of accepting the fluctuating, unpredictable human form i house. sometimes i wonder if it’ll ever change, or if i’ll just become more desensitized to the pokes and jabs over time. maybe i've been quoting too much Sartre, who knows, i’m just trying to navigate this minefield called adolescence with a sense of humor and a thick skin thinner than i’d like it to be. at least i know i’m not alone in this, the internet forums prove that – lots of underweight teens encouraging and sharing tips and stories to empower one another. we need more of that solidarity, don't you think? so, what's the verdict, internet stranger? any revolutionary tips for a girl who's frustrated, tired of being quantified by caloric intake and body fat percentage when really, she just wants enough room to be herself? after all, life’s complicated enough without having to wage a war with the scale every morning. 🥺

sometimes i just wake up feeling like the weight of the whole world is pressing down on me, and it feels like i can’t catch a break from it all. i’m 28, and i guess i’ve reached that point where everything in life seems heavy; the bills, the job that never gives me peace of mind, and the constant pressure to be more, to do better. even though i try to keep my head up and push through, it feels like every step forward pulls me two steps back. i look at myself and wonder if i’m really doing what i was meant to do, if this struggle is supposed to be my reality. i mean, why should i keep going, right? but then, there’s this tiny spark inside me that whispers maybe it’s worth seeing where it leads, maybe there’s something ahead i haven’t seen yet. sometimes it’s not about the big achievements, but the small wins, like making a stranger smile or finishing a book that lifts me up just a little bit. i wonder if that’s enough to hold onto.

there are days when i sit quietly, sipping my coffee, and the silence feels louder than a crowd, but i still choose to show up for the day; it’s not easy. there are moments where i feel like i’m stuck in an endless loop of trying and failing, trying and failing, and it’s exhausting. but when i look around, when i see the sun peeking through the blinds or hear my neighbor’s dog barking like he’s calling out to me, i remember that there are little things that make life less unbearable. it’s funny how those tiny, seemingly insignificant details can pull me back from the edge of giving up completely. have you ever thought about that? how the smallest thing can spark a feeling of connection, even if just for a second? i’m not saying it fixes everything, but it’s enough to keep me from falling too deep. i try to remind myself that feelings, even the overwhelming ones, come and go; maybe that’s what makes them bearable in the long run.

i guess the real question is, am i willing to keep trying despite it all? it’s easy to think about quitting when the weight feels too heavy, but then i remind myself of the people who care about me, even if i don’t always see it. i think about the future, the chance that maybe one day i’ll look back and realize this was just a rough chapter and not the whole story. do you ever think about that? that maybe the bad days don’t define everything? i know it’s hard to hold onto that idea when everything feels like it’s falling apart, but i’m trying. i’m trying because deep down i believe that tomorrow could be different, that there might be a reason to smile, a reason to breathe deeply and say, “i made it through this day.” maybe that’s why i should keep living, because there’s still a chance for things to change, and i’m curious to see what’s on the other side.

ever wondered if you might not be your biggest fan? let's dive into some signs, because self-awareness is legit. there's people who say you gotta love yourself first, but what if you just can't??? ugh!!!

first off, your self-talk is trash. like, why you gotta be your own worst critic? 😒 constantly pointing out flaws, judging every move you make. who needs haters when you've got your own brain doing the job 24/7?? it's exhausting. do you find it normal to tear yourself apart, like you're watching some kind of twisted reality show where you're both the star and the judge? if you do, girl, we need to chat. because that's messed up. overanalyzing every single decision, like it even matters in the grand scheme????

then there's the mirror thing. let's be real, spending ridiculous amounts of time in front of a mirror, only to find NEW insecurities every day??! what's up with that? it's like some evil ritual, trying to find something, anything, to critique. 🙄 look, nobody's flawless, but constantly nitpicking just doesn't make sense, right? everyone knows those bad hair days, or days where you feel like you’re wearing a potato sack instead of an outfit. what's bizarre is, even when you look fine, you can convince yourself otherwise!!! how does that even happen? you've gotta stop treating reflections like they're going to change something.

social media... don't even get me started. comparisons, comparisons, comparisons. how many times do you scroll, see a pic of someone else, and immediately, like clockwork, feel like trash?? better bodies, better lives, bla bla bla. the comparison trap is real and it sucks. instead of thinking, "hey, looks cool," it's all jealousy and envy??? why do we do that to ourselves? it's not like these people have it all together, right? celebrities are just good at faking it, but it sure messes with our perception. comparison is the thief of joy, and somehow we invite that thief right into our day, every day.

another sign, and it's kinda dark, is self-sabotage. 😬 you're given a good opportunity, and you trash it. why? because deep down, you feel like you don't deserve it. come showtime, suddenly there's doubt. doesn't matter if teachers, friends, family lift you up, you find excuses to stay down. please tell me I'm not the only one? isn't it bizarre how opportunities seem like burdens instead of blessings? it's almost like a subconscious trap we've set for ourselves, setting ourselves up to fail. why make things hard when they can be, like, normal??? it’s unrealistic and honestly, unnecessary effort for self-sabotage.

can we talk about avoiding self-care? everyone yaps on and on about treating yourself, but how often do you really follow through?? feeling tired is not normal, people!!!!! it goes beyond the physical too; mental health days become binging disaster marathons instead of actual rest, and before you know it, you're buried under a mountain of unfinished tasks! how does this madness happen???? convenience takes precedence over health, and we act shocked when it doesn’t feel good? ironic, isn't it? 🤔 like, do you find it confusing why putting in little effort for self-care feels like too much?? it really shouldn’t be rocket science, but here we are, making things unnecessarily complex.

so there it is. if these feel a bit too close to home, maybe it's time to pause and reflect??? no need for melodrama, just acknowledging reality. recognizing how you treat yourself is a step, right? lashing out ain’t a vibe, so let's stop doing it to ourselves. 🤷‍♀️ maybe take a moment, let it sink in, and start treating yourself the way you deserve—it's about time.

My whole life I've had people there to guide me, moreso control me in retrospect. I've never been independent and it's actively ruining my life. When I was young my (adoptive) family often bullied me, and I would get bullied at school. I never made friends, through elementary and all of 6th grade my friends treated me like I was a nuisance and not a single one of the people I considered my friends had liked me in the slightest. All of this has led to me being so insecure and terrified of making mistakes that I can barely leave the house. My (biological) little sister is getting a job for the summer and she's still in school (I dropped out after moving away) and I feel horrible. On the outside I'm trying to encourage her and give her support, but on the inside I feel terrible, I'm not getting any younger and I'm still just sitting here letting everyone down, including myself.

My anxiety stems more from insecurity, I sometimes spend hours before doing something as simple as going to the store with my family just trying to look nice, how pathetic is that? I don't do it for people to compliment me, but I think I just have such high standards for myself that if I don't reach them I'm uncomfortable and it ruins my whole day. I never feel good about myself and never have, whether it be my weight or how boyish I look even as a woman, I don't think I've ever caught a break. This isn't to say I haven't received compliments, but every time i have its been thanks to makeup or just unique camera angles that hide all of the bad parts of me.

I'm unable to make friends in real life due to my insecurity, I feel like I'm worthless and undeserving of love, friendship, or attention in general. I don't know what I'm asking at this point, I don't know if I need reassurance, or advice, or to be told to get the fuck over it and grow up, I don't know what, if anything, can help me, or how to live even though I'm already an adult.

So here's the thing, you ever find yourself spiraling into this never-ending whirlwind of thoughts, wondering if there's some magical trick to escape your own overactive brain? It's like, how do you actually get out of your own head without losing it entirely? We all know those moments when every little thing starts blowing up into some colossal issue that doesn't even exist, but you're just sitting there overanalyzing; it feels like a tornado of mental chaos. I'm talking about when you're chilling at two in the morning, staring blankly at the ceiling, and your mind decides it's the perfect time to dissect every single embarrassing memory from the past decade. Seriously, what’s up with our brains behaving like this, right? Maybe you’re in the middle of something casual, like scrolling through your phone, and suddenly, wham! A wave of existential dread just crashes down on you. Like, can I binge-watch one episode without my brain short-circuiting from overthinking? It's exhausting. 🙄 You start wondering if you're the only one who experiences this, and honestly, it makes you question your sanity a bit. Are other people strolling through life effortlessly while I'm here battling these relentless, nagging thoughts? You might've even tried some self-help books; but let's be real, most of them are just full of fancy words and empty promises. There's one I read that basically just felt like some guy yelling "relax" over and over again, which doesn't exactly work, you know? People say meditate—okay, sure, but sitting in silence only invites more annoying brain chatter, making you feel like you're stuck in a noisy echo chamber filled with your own silly thoughts. Talking to friends? Yeah, been there, done that. But sometimes it seems like they just don’t get it or are secretly judging your rant. You try distractions, maybe picking up a hobby like painting or cooking. Just for a fleeting moment, you think you've cracked the code to inner peace, then bam! Your mind goes rogue again. Ever thought of professional help? Geez, typing that out makes it feel extreme, right? But sometimes it's what you gotta do, because, honestly, you can't rely on venting about it somewhere online forever, can you? How about just straight-up running, exercising like you're being chased by demons from your own psyche? Could be a temporary fix, who knows? Nevertheless, wouldn't it be sweet if we could just flip a switch and shut our brains down, even if just for a little bit? Maybe then we wouldn't be perpetually tired from battling with our own annoying inner voices. At the end of the day, it feels like you're stumbling through some intricate labyrinth with no map. So, how does anyone genuinely manage to quiet this endless mind chatter? You'd think life would come with instructions to navigate your own complicated thoughts easily. But, I guess we're left figuring out our messy psyches on the fly. The question remains: is there an actual escape route out of your swirling, tumultuous thoughts, or are we all just destined to remain trapped in this mental maze forever?

There are moments in life when one feels the overwhelming urge to let tears flow, but inexplicably, the tears refuse to come. This paradox is driving me to madness. Why is it that when I most need the release and comfort of tears, they betray me? It feels as though my entire being is locked in a struggle between an intense yearning for emotional catharsis and an unyielding stoicism. “They say crying cleanses the soul,” I once read in a novel; right now, that sentiment feels out of reach. It's a bitter irony—wanting to cry to ease the aching heart, yet remaining stoic as a statue.

The complexities of human emotions are intensely baffling. One moment, you feel utterly alone in a sea of people; the next, you're surrounded by warmth and love; yet, the tears are stubbornly elusive. Have you ever been in a situation where your emotions are all tangled up, but they refuse to unravel, leaving you trapped in an internal quagmire? It's like when you have an itch you can't scratch—aggravating in its persistence. There is some twisted frustration in needing an emotional outlet that remains tantalizingly out of reach. Isn't it funny how emotions have a mind of their own?

There was a time in college when I experienced a similar emotional gridlock. I remember walking down the bustling hallways, my mind a whirlwind of stress and anxiety, yet nothing on the outside showed it. My friend, noticing my pensive demeanor, quoted Shakespeare: "Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break." If only it were that easy! But how does one articulate sorrow when the words won’t form? I wonder if everyone experiences these bouts of emotional constipation, or is it just me?

This brings me to ponder whether societal pressures contribute to our emotional suppression. We're so conditioned to put on a brave face, to maintain a facade of composed demeanor, and to carry on as though nothing is amiss. This is perhaps why our emotional outlets sometimes become blocked; we forget how to feel openly, caught in a web of expectations and obligations. It is a bewildering conundrum—being so in tune with one's emotions, yet utterly adrift; does anyone else feel this duality?

In conclusion, the inability to cry when one needs to the most is both a mystery and a torment. There's clearly no manual on how to navigate the intricacies of human emotions flawlessly. Each of us is an intricate tapestry of thoughts, feelings, and experiences, with crying being just one expression of our complex emotional spectrum. The dissonance between needing and being unable to cry might just be nature's way of reminding us of our vulnerability and humanity. Perhaps in time, I'll understand the purpose behind this emotional stalemate; perhaps not. Until then, I am left to ponder these musings and continue the awkward dance with my wayward emotions. Are emotions truly our ally or our nemesis?

Isn't it strange how life takes unexpected twists and turns??!!! Here I am at 31, feeling like I should have everything figured out by now, but deep inside, I keep asking myself, "Why do I hate myself so much?" You know that feeling when you wake up in the morning and the first thing that pops into your head is, “How did I mess that up again?” That's me, every single day. 😅 I mean, how unfair is it to feel so inadequate despite achieving a decent amount in life??! It's like there's this invisible rain cloud following me around, pouring down self-doubt whenever I least expect it. There's just this sadness that I can't seem to shake off.

Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror and think, "You're such a loser." And then I remember, I have friends who care, a job that pays the bills, and maybe even a little sparkle of potential hidden somewhere deeper. 🤞 So why?? Why do these thoughts even exist?? After all, it's said you're supposed to love yourself, right? And there's this inner voice whispering louder and louder, "You're your own worst critic, buddy!" It's frustrating, but also oddly motivating because I refuse to let doubt rule my world indefinitely!! Perhaps it's time to channel this energy into something good, to actually believe in myself for once. You've got to love the irony; here I am, dwelling on negative perceptions, yet clinging onto the hope that one day I might just wake up and feel “enough” for real. Is that too much to ask?? 🤔

so for context, I am an alter in a DID system, an introject of Tommy from a fan fiction called end of the world everyday. I miss them so fucking much. I feel so alone here without them, I've been stuck in this body for two fucking years without them. Why did I have to split from such a rare source? I'm fucking Moros, the god of impending doom, and I'm stuck in the body of a nineteen year old girl. I just want my brothers and my dad, and my mum, and all my friends. It's not fair that I'm the only one.

you know that saying "this too shall pass"? yeah, I see it everywhere and honestly, I’m kinda over it. I mean, do we really need a reminder that tough times won’t last forever? like, it’s kinda obvious, right? last week, I had one of those days where nothing goes right. I spilled coffee all over my favorite shirt, got stuck in traffic, and then my boss dropped a ton of work on me out of nowhere. it was just one of those moments where I wanted to scream. I remember sitting at my desk, feeling totally overwhelmed, and hearing my coworker say, "remember, this too shall pass." I smiled, but inside I was rolling my eyes, like seriously? you think I don’t know that? I know life is a rollercoaster, ups and downs and all that jazz, but it doesn’t make it easier when you’re in the middle of a low point. sometimes, you just want to vent without the pep talk. I get that people mean well, but it feels like such a cliché, ya know? just last month, I had a really rough breakup. like, it turned my world upside down. I was crying at all the random places, even in my car at red lights. one of my friends kept saying, “this too shall pass,” and I wanted to yell, “yes, but right now I’m just holding on to the box of ice cream and my sad playlist!” it’s frustrating when you just need someone to listen instead of throwing out some generic phrase. have you felt that way? sometimes it’s hard to see the light when you’re deep in the mud. I totally understand and appreciate the sentiment behind those words, but sometimes, I just want to wallow a little bit, you know? life feels like it’s throwing all sorts of curveballs, and every time I hear that phrase, it feels like yet another reminder that I'm stuck in this moment. so what if I want to sit in it for a while? sometimes I think it’d be nice to just let it all out and not have to hear someone telling me it’ll be okay. why can’t we just be real about how we feel sometimes? the world isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. it’s messy. you feel hurt, frustrated, and sometimes downright exhausted. that’s totally normal, right? my sister always tells me that life’s a marathon, not a sprint, and while I get that, dang, sometimes I just want to hurl my running shoes out the window and take a break on the couch with chips and a good show. it’s like we have this pressure to carry on and act like everything’s fine when really, it’s just not. I remember last year when I was stuck in a rut and couldn’t figure out what the heck to do with my life. friends would say, “hang in there; this too shall pass!” and I’d just nod, thinking to myself, "like, can you see I’m not actually hanging in there?" I wanted someone to recognize that my struggle was valid. we all deal with stuff differently. crying it out doesn’t mean we’re weak, and feeling frustrated doesn’t mean we’re not handling things. everyone has their moments, and I really think it’s okay to feel bad sometimes, without someone reminding us it’ll get better. like, when will it get better? I guess we just have to ride the waves and deal with it together. even when I see those words pop up again, in a post or a text, I’ll probably roll my eyes again. but I’ll also try to remember that everyone's just trying to support each other, even if it feels a little off sometimes. does that make sense? it’s tough, but I guess we just take it step by step, right?

it seems that most people don’t understand the silent struggles many face, particularly when it comes to mental health. for some, panic attacks occur without the familiar outward signs; instead, they’re discreet episodes that manifest internally. often, these silent panic attacks creep up when least expected, leaving the individual in a whirlwind of confusion and unease. has anyone else ever found themselves in a similar predicament? 😕 the reality for many is one of isolation, as the outside world continues its pace while the individual grapples with an unseen storm.

one may find themselves at a social gathering, surrounded by laughter and conversation, yet feeling inexplicably detached. the heart races, palms sweat, and a feeling of impending doom looms overhead. friends may speak, but their voices are drowned out by the cacophony of racing thoughts and rising anxiety. such instances challenge the individual to maintain an outward appearance of composure while their mind engages in a frantic battle. it begs the question: how does one articulate a silent struggle when the world expects a smile? 🎭

situations arise when the tension becomes so palpable that breath feels scarce. a sudden wave of panic might wash over, leaving one feeling trapped in their own skin. the claustrophobic sensation of being surrounded, yet utterly alone, creates a profound disconnect. the mental fog thickens, causing concentration to falter. it is during these moments of solitude that one ponders the magnitude of perception versus reality. does anyone else experience that moment when everything seems amplified, yet others remain blissfully unaware of your turmoil? 😰

throughout these silent moments, a multitude of coping mechanisms may emerge. whether it’s grounding techniques, deep breathing, or simply stepping outside for a breath of fresh air, the response to such events is deeply individualized. however, the lingering feeling of wanting to express one’s fears can often lead to a sense of frustration. the question persists: is there a way to bridge the gap between personal experiences and external acknowledgment? contextually, how does one convey the urgency of their silent battles without appearing overly dramatic? combating these internal demons requires not only resilience but also a sense of connection with others, even if that connection is predicated on shared, silent understanding. 🌈

amid the chaos of daily life, one often seeks solace and rejuvenation. recently, I found myself exploring various methods of healing meditation. this journey began as a necessity, a response to the overwhelming stress I had been experiencing. each evening, I would carve out time to disconnect from technology and immerse myself in the soothing environment of my living room. I would sit comfortably on a plush meditation cushion, dim the lights, and create a serene atmosphere by lighting a calming lavender candle. these small rituals became anchors amidst the storm of my thoughts. during meditation, I found myself focusing on my breath, allowing the rhythm of inhalation and exhalation to ground me. it is fascinating how such a simple act can bring clarity. those moments in stillness revealed patterns of anxiety that I had not fully acknowledged. 🌿 so, would it not be beneficial to embrace such practices, even if just for a few minutes each day, to promote mental well-being?

over time, I discovered that healing meditation is not merely an escape; it is an exploration of one's inner landscape. I would gently guide my mind to embrace thoughts without judgment. this process, though at times challenging, cultivated a sense of acceptance. I began to realize that healing goes beyond just relaxing. it involves confronting emotions that linger beneath the surface, allowing oneself to experience them fully. during these sessions, I would visualize vibrant colors washing over me, nurturing each lingering worry and transforming it into something more positive.✨ I ponder how many individuals bypass this opportunity for introspection. is the fear of vulnerability holding us back from true healing? while the journey may not offer immediate results, there lies the potential for profound transformation with consistent practice. embracing this path has not only enhanced my emotional resilience but also instilled a newfound appreciation for life’s simplest moments.

sometimes I seriously wonder if I’m the only one who dreads traveling with my family. like, don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and our three kids, but holy crap, the anxiety that comes with planning these long-distance trips is unreal. my husband, bless his soul, is all about hitting the road—“Let’s go explore the world!” he says, with that unrealistic enthusiasm that makes me want to roll my eyes. I get it; I really do. But the logistical nightmare that revolves around it? It's like I'm drowning in a sea of suitcases, snacks, and “Are we there yet?” coming from the back seat.

don’t even get me started on the packing. like, how do you even begin to decide what to take? I’ll have a mini panic attack just looking at the clothing options for a week-long trip. I mean, why are there so many categories of “travel wear”? Casual, active, beach, smart casual? At this point, I feel like I need a full-on schematic to figure out what my kids will need for a simple road trip. And of course, let’s not forget the inevitable last-minute chaos where I find half the kids' belongings scattered throughout the house, from their favorite toys to those socks that my daughter claims are “magically lost.” who has the time?

and it’s not just about the packing. there’s this overwhelming fear of the actual travel day. what if the car breaks down? what if the kids start fighting in the back seat? or worse, what if we stop at some terrible roadside diner? it’s like a mental game of “What could go wrong?” and I always manage to come up with the most outrageous scenarios. I mean, am I alone in thinking that travel is just a perfect storm of potential disasters? one minute you're excited about visiting the Grand Canyon, and the next you're dealing with a flat tire, three kids screaming for snacks, and a husband who's somehow oblivious to all the chaos around him. "It's an adventure!" he says, while I'm plotting my escape route home.

despite all the stress, I do think there's a silver lining in this craziness. maybe it’s the collective eye rolls or the sighs of exasperation that bring our family together in the end. those moments where we can bond over shared calamity and laugh about the flat tire that turned into a spontaneous picnic—who knew getting stranded could lead to such memorable family moments? and you know what? it might be chaos, but it's our chaos, right? there’s something unbelievably beautiful about navigating the mess of a family trip, knowing it’ll lead to stories that we’ll be telling for years to come. "Remember that time Mom lost her mind because Dad wanted to stop for coffee?" Yeah, I have a feeling that’ll be a classic.

so as much as I might dread packing our bags and enduring travel day madness, I hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, once we pull away from our driveway, all the stress will fade away. it’s a journey not just on the road, but also through our family’s antics. that little flicker of positivity keeps me going when my anxiety threatens to overtake the excitement I should feel. if you relate to any of this—seriously, let me know! are we all just a bunch of travel-anxious parents trying to survive family road trips, or is there a secret group out there that has figured this out? I need some tips, people!!!

So, like, here I am at 29 years old, and I keep finding myself tangled in this weird little internal debate: is it okay to provide yourself some self pleasure? I mean, let’s be real here. Growing up, I was always fed a bunch of moralistic nonsense about how it's a sin or whatever, which kinda makes you feel like you’re engaging in something super dirty when you think about it. On the flip side, everyone talks about self care and how important it is to know your body. It’s confusing! Like, are we supposed to feel guilty about this, or is it totally normal? Sometimes I just want to scream “HELLO, it’s 2025! Can we talk about this?!”

I’ll admit, I’ve dabbled in self pleasure a few times, and initially, it felt like I was doing something wrong. Guilt struck harder than the time I "accidentally" ate my roommate's leftover pizza. You know how everyone says, "You gotta love yourself before you can love someone else"? Well, I always thought that was just some cute line to put on mugs and tote bags. But honestly, there's a part of me that's starting to think they might be onto something. Like, if I never explore my own body, how am I supposed to know what I like when I'm with someone else? It's just logical, right? But then, it creeps in again—the feeling that, in some way, I’m “less than” because I’m alone while I do it.

I also have friends who share their own journeys with it, and their experiences are always eye-opening. One of my friends, let’s call her Sarah, swears by it. She told me how much it has boosted her confidence in her body and her sexuality. It’s hard not to feel a bit jealous because she seems so liberated and carefree; I often wonder what it would feel like to just let go of those thoughts that constantly run through my mind. On one hand, it’s like she’s so in touch with herself that it’s inspiring, but on the other, it makes me feel kinda pressured to be as comfortable as she is. So, am I supposed to just jump in and “get my groove on”? Do people even use that expression anymore? 😂 Sometimes I feel old-fashioned when thinking about something that's so modern!

Still, I find myself hesitating every time I think about giving it another go. What if I’m just doing it “wrong”? I mean, how do you even know if you’ve done it right? There’s so much information online about techniques, toys, and all that jazz. Part of me is super curious, while the other part is just doubting if this is something I should be delving into. Do I really need that, or can I just figure stuff out with a partner later on? I read this article that argued, “Self-pleasure is like exploring a new city by yourself before taking someone else along for the ride,” which sounded really poetic, but come on; does anyone actually take that to heart?

In the end, I'm left wondering if I should explore self pleasure to gain that confidence and comfort with my own body or just leave it as a taboo subject. I’m sitting at this crossroads of curiosity and doubt, and I can’t help but ask: Is it truly just a natural part of being human, or is it more complicated than it should be? Should I embrace it like my friend Sarah, or shy away and stick to what I know? The thoughts are cluttering my mind, and I really think I need to talk to someone about it—anyone out there relate? I guess what I'm trying to say is; how do you work through this weird mix of feelings regarding self pleasure?

You know what's super wild? Having these little anxiety tics that just pop up whenever I'm feeling even a little off. I mean, I’m 21, and it still catches me off guard how my body reacts to stress. Like, one minute, I’m fine, chatting with my friends or whatever, and the next, I'm biting my nails until they bleed or tapping my foot so fast it feels like I’m in some kind of weird race against time. It’s like a switch flips, and suddenly I’m a mess. Ever had that feeling? It's such a buzzkill, especially when everyone else seems chill around me, and I'm there like a human metronome, just going off!

Last week was a prime example. I was getting ready for this big presentation in class, and I thought I was totally prepared. I mean, I studied, I practiced, I even did that classic thing where you imagine the audience in their underwear—okay, maybe that didn’t help! But as the day approached, my hands started to shake, and I couldn’t stop fidgeting. At one point, I caught myself pulling at my hair, which is probably the worst habit ever. Then I paused and realized, wow, this isn’t just me being nervous; it’s like my body’s way of screaming “HELP!” without actually yelling. And of course, I didn't mention it to anyone because, you know, who wants to sound like a total drama queen? But then again, it made me think about how many people deal with this sorta thing, right?

In my head, I was just trying to convince myself that it was normal, that everyone gets anxious about presentations, but man, when those tics take over, it feels like I'm a puppet on strings, moving uncontrollably. Some days I feel like I need to put my foot down and say, "Listen, body, you can chill," but then it’s like reality hits and I’m just another 21-year-old trying to figure out life. It’s honestly exhausting! Some people might suggest breathing exercises or meditation, and I’ve tried those, but it’s like my brain is this buzzy little hamster on a wheel, just going and going with no signs of stopping. Plus, who has the time to sit in silence when there are notifications going off every five seconds? It’s like the more I try to relax, the more on edge I feel. Ever been in that spot where you're so wound up that you can't even think straight?

I guess I should be thankful that I at least recognize these tics for what they are; it could be worse, I know. But, sometimes, I can't help but doubt if I’m even managing it right. Like, each time I notice myself scratching my wrist or tapping my pencil to the point where it’s practically splintering, it’s this annoying reminder that I still have a long way to go. I mean, who doesn’t want to feel like they're in control, am I right?! It’s frustrating to think about how these little behaviors can throw me off my game, especially when I'm out with friends. Like they'll be laughing and having a good time, and I’m sitting there, trying to hide the fact that I'm about to burst into a ball of anxiety. It's tough trying to blend in when you feel like you’re standing out for all the wrong reasons. So, yeah, if you’ve got any tricks to calm those nerves or manage those sneaky little anxiety tics, I’m all ears;

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about my situation, and I need to get this off my chest. I’m 17 years old and, for as long as I can remember, anxiety has been a part of my life. I constantly feel on edge; it's like there’s this invisible weight sitting on my chest, squeezing harder with every passing day. Sometimes, I wonder, "can you get disability for anxiety?" I’ve heard stories about other people getting help, but I’m really not sure how it works. The idea of living with this kind of anxiety forever terrifies me, and I worry that if I don’t get help soon, my situation could go from bad to worse. It’s like I’m hanging on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if I’ll fall or find some sort of solid ground.

in school, I often find myself staring blankly at my desk, too overwhelmed to focus on the lesson. I try to distract myself with thoughts of what I’ll do once I graduate or how I want to travel, but the anxiety creeps back in like an uninvited guest. A few weeks ago, I had a panic attack during a test and, honestly, it was one of the worst feelings ever. I felt embarrassed; everyone was looking at me, and I just wanted to disappear. I heard from a friend that they got accommodations for their anxiety, and it got me really thinking: is it possible for me to get something similar? Would going through the process of applying for disability be worth it? And what happens if I get turned down? It’s a lot to think about…

I did some research and found out that, according to the SSA, to qualify for disability benefits, you generally need to demonstrate that your condition severely limits your ability to work. But that’s where things get tricky. Anxiety isn’t always visible like a physical injury, and I often feel like I need to prove I'm suffering. My reflection is like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands; it’s there, but I can’t hold onto it. I keep hearing, “You need a diagnosis,” but I’ve been hesitant to speak to a professional. Talking about my feelings is really tough for me; I think about going to a therapist or counselor, but then I question if they'll really understand what I'm going through. Is it worth the risk of being vulnerable? Should I be gathering evidence of my anxiety so I can substantiate my claim if it comes to that? So many questions and uncertainties…

eventually, I guess I’ll have to make a decision, but for now, I feel stuck in a rut. I keep telling myself I should take that first step either way—whether that means reaching out to a therapist for advice or starting the application process for disability benefits. Part of me thinks about what others might say if they find out; will they judge me? Will they say I’m just trying to take the easy way out? This whole situation feels like a never-ending maze; it’s disorienting, and I don’t really know which way to turn. there’s this constant whirlwind of thoughts swirling around my mind, and I just wish for a bit of clarity!! I wonder what other people have done in similar situations? It’s like, am I the only one trying to figure this all out? I guess I’m reaching out to you, random readers, hoping for some kind of insight or advice on how you’ve managed your own experiences. Thanks for listening rather than judging; it means a lot when all I seem to do is worry!