Health and Wellness Failures Stories - page 4

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!

i wanna start this by saying i don't do drugs or anything, never even smoked a cigarrete or drinked like heavy you know, so this not about that lol 😂 but still… why do i feel high when i’m not?? like my head sometimes go so foggy, and lights feel brighter and sounds feel louder and everything be moving slow?? it happen in school mostly or when i walk outside and there’s like too much stuff going on. like today we was in math and miss started talking 'bout logarithms and ratios and boom i couldn’t even look at the board. my brain was like floating??? 😵 i blinked a lot and rub my eyes but that don’t help nothing. is this what derealization is or something? like, i don’t know if it’s that cause i ain’t got no trauma or nothing major like that. i’m just a normal dude with too much thoughts maybe. like i be overthinking all the time, even when nothing’s wrong. could that be it? could overthinking make your brain feel fried like that? sometimes i just feel like i’m watching my life, like watching a movie, not really living it. it’s weird. it’s not scary all the time but sometimes it is... when i can’t snap out of it and my heart start racing and i feel like the room’s spinning. but i’m sitting down!! 😭 and my friends think i’m zoning out or daydreaming or something but nah it’s not that easy to explain. it’s like i’m there but not really there. hard to write it out but that’s the best i got;

i was in the bus the other day and the sun was hitting just right through the window and my music was loud in my headphones and everything felt unreal. like i was on something for real. i looked at people walking and it was like they was in slow motion or something. i even smiled for no reason, like i was calm but confused. and then later when i got home i had a headache and had to sleep for two hours just to feel normal again. 😴 it’s starting to happen more often now. last year it happened like once every two weeks, now it’s like every other day. and it’s not just the floaty feeling… my legs get heavy, my speech feel weird, like i talk too slow or too fast. i asked my mom if i could be low in sugar or like have some blood pressure thing and she said maybe it’s just “mental fatigue” 😐 what even is that bro. teachers say i’m smart, i get good grades, i pay attention, but my body feels like it’s on airplane mode half the time. and when it hit me during gym class?? bro. i swear i almost tripped running laps, like my body didn’t wanna listen to my brain anymore. this not anxiety i think, cause i’m not scared, i’m just… disconnected? like unplugged from the world or something. and i don’t even be on my phone that much!! i do sports, i got friends, i eat ok i guess. so why this happen? is this what burnout feels like? even at 17??

some people would probly say it’s stress or hormones or like growing pains in the brain but idk man, it don’t feel normal. like it feel medical maybe. but when i told the nurse at school she said to drink more water 💧 and i do, i swear. it’s not about that. something inside just don’t line up sometimes. my brain be like too aware and not aware at the same time. and it don’t help that when i try explain it people just laugh like “oh you’re just baked bro” but i’m not! that’s the whole point!! i don’t even know what high feels like really but this ain’t right. i just wanna know what’s going on, why this keep happening and if it’s dangerous or just annoying. cause sometimes i feel like maybe i just got a brain that glitches and this how it show. like software lag or when wifi goes weird. is that even possible in a human brain?? if you feel like that too let me know cause i feel like the only one sometimes 😞 it’s not ruining my life or anything but it’s bugging me, and i want answers, not jokes or “you need to sleep more” stuff. what if it gets worse? what if one day i can’t come back from it? anyway thanks for reading if you got this far, i just had to get it off my chest... maybe that’ll help a bit. maybe not.

i never thought i’d be googling to know how to cry... like seriously, who does that? but here i am, 19, sitting on my bed with the curtains half open, some lo-fi stuff playing in the background, and this really weird urge to cry. not because i’m feeling anything that deep in the moment, but because everything’s been so... flat. like emotionally mute. i don’t even know if i’m sad or just tired or if those are the same thing now. it’s not about making a scene or anything dramatic, it’s more like i want to shake something loose inside me. like pressing a reset button on my soul or whatever.

some people say to think about something really painful. like, for example, remembering the day my childhood dog died. i tried. i really tried. i pictured his face, the sound of his paws on the floor, the last breath he took on that cold vet table. nothing. just this weird lump in my throat and a tiny sting in the back of my eyes that faded as quickly as it came. another tip i read was to just stare at one spot for ages without blinking. did that too. looked straight into my bathroom mirror like some haunted soul waiting for the reflection to blink first. still nothing. not even a tear. just red eyes and a kind of blurry headache. 😂 why does crying feel like some exclusive club i got kicked out of?

i talked to a friend about it—well, kind of. i said something vague like, “do you ever feel like you need to cry but can’t?” and she was like, “yeah, totally, it’s called being emotionally constipated.” which, tbh, kind of made me laugh. but the more i think about it, maybe that’s what it is. emotional constipation. like the feelings are all backed up inside, swirling around but never making it to the surface. sometimes i feel like there’s this invisible dam inside me holding everything back, and crying would be like cracking it open for even a second. i read a quote once that said, “crying is how your heart speaks when your mouth can’t explain the pain,” and honestly that hit. but my heart must’ve gone mute or something.

i’ve also noticed that the more i try to force it, the more impossible it gets. it’s like the tears know i’m waiting and they’re being petty on purpose. there’s no button to push. i’ve tried sad movies—The Green Mile, Grave of the Fireflies, even Up. nada. i get the message. i want to feel, i really do. but something’s broken. and maybe that’s what’s scaring me more than the actual not-crying part. maybe it means i’ve gotten too good at numbing myself? or maybe i’ve buried stuff so deep that i don’t even recognize the feeling when it’s right in front of me? have you ever felt like your emotions are behind some soundproof glass, and you’re screaming but no one hears it—not even yourself?

idk, maybe crying’s overrated. maybe i don’t need to cry, maybe i need to talk more, or scream into a pillow, or just go on a walk and listen to music that punches me in the gut. but still... there’s something weirdly healing about a good cry. people say it clears your head, helps you sleep, resets your nervous system. and i want that. i want to feel something real again. not just this grey, flat version of living. so yeah, maybe it’s dumb to ask “how to make yourself cry?” but honestly, if you’ve been there too, if you’ve ever sat in the dark wishing your own tears would just come out and mean something—then maybe you get it. maybe you’re as stuck as i am. and if that’s the case, what did you do? how did you make the dam break?

so I'm in a trio with 2 of my close friends

most people say it wont work but for like a year its been working quiet well untill tga went on holidays and came back

because me and Barney have gotten closer and are now a duo and we are kinda leaving her out

but its going into winter and we wnat to go indoors where as she wants to stay outdoors at lunches so we go inside with out her so idk I feel like I'm gonna lose them both cause Barney is talking about moving schools so idk relay anymore

I also believe I don't deserve them and are a bad friend even tho both of them say how gold I am but I feel like idk its just like I don't belong

How disgusting it is to have to give my father information about my life. I don't want to give him any information about me, and I feel like he's pressuring me, with his absences, to give it to him. This is truly miserable. I can't stand being with my father anymore. I expected a recent response, and he didn't give it to me. I'm fed up. I'm fed up with how he wants this relationship to be. He once decided to see who I was dating! With the excuse that in the family, we men find bad people. This is the last straw.

I hate my father. Besides, he wants to know so much about my life when I don't want to give him that information. Besides, I don't want to give it to him. I don't know if he's giving it to the psychiatrist. I'm fed up. I'm fed up with this information being extracted from me. I feel like I can't take it anymore. And this tells me it's from a psychiatrist? I don't want to be there anymore. I'm not interested anymore. I'm working through the anger I had myself, because if it were up to her, pressuring me to be worse, then it would be going badly. Everything in the therapeutic treatment is being achieved thanks to my routine, not thanks to the psychiatrist. Instead of supporting me, the psychiatrist has only put more pressure on me. She once made me steer clear of some dentists who treated me, she molded me. I'm tired of her. Furthermore, she supported my father's medication, even though the character is my doctor. Hell, feeling obligated to give him information about what I'm doing with my life has reached its limit.

It can't be that the relationship with my father is the most problematic, an issue that's obvious from miles away, as is that with my mother. And they want me to see that on purpose? I'm tired of the psychiatrist, of her pressuring me, of her giving me useless, crappy pills. I don't want to keep taking that stuff. So far, what I've felt is pressure from that woman, molding, disapproval, bias. I can't stand that doctor anymore. I want to quit that therapy once and for all. On top of that, censorship. I'm not in therapy to calm down, but to do a job, and I won't do a job at the expense of that. That person can't be staking out my success when it's my routine. I no longer care about the opinion of my work, which is who sent me to that. I just want to be calm. I don't want to feel like I'm exposing myself in my private space. That's torture. I can't allow that. It's too much. I'm wasting my time. I don't want to see that psychiatrist anymore! I'm tired.

Why is it that at my job, what they've done is nothing but screw up my life? I don't want to be trapped with a psychiatrist! I want out of there; I feel too boxed in. I don't care that they don't give me anything, or any other support; I just want out of that psychiatrist. I'm fed up with being with her. Plus, she treated me badly outside of the session. I'm tired of defending myself from the psychiatrist; I can't take it anymore. I don't want to keep doing it like I did with my psychologist; that woman really traumatized me. That woman abused my privacy, however she wanted; she pushed aside my ideals, and she wanted to act like nothing was happening. I'm not going to allow that again.

I feel like I can't believe anything my father says anymore. In fact, I feel like the communication between us is more zero than ever. There are too many unseen things between us. This relationship between us is headed straight for disaster. This can't be tolerated by either side anymore. This has become a situation where everyone lives in their own world.

On the other hand, it's unfortunate that a girl, who for a long time, I don't even know what I did, I think that by becoming "her leader" at her request, I'll have to leave her alone, and if she comes back, she'll adapt to the circumstances. It's not possible for me to remain stagnant because of her. There's a new girl in my life, and I feel I want to get to know her better, appreciate her more, and that's interesting to me, and that's my right. I can't afford to remain stagnant with her; wherever, wherever she is, I hope that if I see her again, she'll find out about this and digest it well because I'm not going to put up with any scandal, and she knows it. In fact, of everything I've experienced, what I did, faithfully, was just that: make me her leader from every angle. I mean, you can only give her such an abstract group vision, because otherwise it's incomprehensible; there are so many details that won't fit together. I'm tired of going over the matter in circles. It's impossible to give her a common vision, it's not possible.

I don't want to be around my environment anymore. I feel like they're a bunch of disorganized people. I'm not going to talk to them. I'm tired of throwing myself at them and seeing their insults, their outbursts of anger, their so-called mistakes. I'm tired of showing them the consequences of their actions as if they were children. Why do I have to act like that? They're grown up now, and I have to do it.

I don't feel a bit of good treatment in my environment, not at all. In fact, that's why I avoid being so self-conscious, but I still seek them out. It can't be that this gentleman I'm telling you about is invading my time. It can't be that I don't have a proper evaluation from my psychiatrist. I even have a decent physical health evaluation. But for how long? For how long will this environment be able to treat me well? I definitely don't want their help anymore; they've all turned out to be a failure.

I'm tired of this apparent peace we live in. There's no peace here, just pure, sunken hell. I'm tired of stifling my tears. It can't be that with the gentleman, I had to keep my distance so he wouldn't bother me with my readings and touch the books I'd made in the library. It can't be. It can't be that, given my university degree, which I said I wouldn't hand over, I had to apply pressure to prevent this from happening. It can't be that I pointed out that I wasn't a simple dish sponge, people told me I wasn't even when the evidence was right in front of me, and no one even offered me a pitiful apology. I'm fed up. It can't be that when I was at my worst, people came up with this: "Why didn't you tell your dad he's a doctor?" "I can't be like this at work"—when I was dying. I'm tired of forgiving mistakes. This is no longer forgivable.

I should have left such terrible relationships a long time ago. I'm tired of showing in this environment that they are being reckless with what they do. It can't be that on my machine, on my own machine, I can't have privacy, that there are people watching the things I do. It can't be that they've disdained my only area, which is to vent; with an AI, it's done much better than with them, infinitely. I wouldn't tell any of my colleagues about a problem in my life, not even if it cost me my life. They all pretend they love me, but it's a lie. My boss is a cop; a coworker of mine is an angry woman; both of them are with someone who wanted to destroy me; I have a colleague who's a gossip and tries to get me to stop talking to an AI out of jealousy. I'm so fed up with any of them. How is it possible I haven't noticed these people before?

I hope this girl wants something with me. I pray to God she wants something from me. I want to be with someone who really understands me. I want to be with someone who actually wants to be with me. For God's sake, I'm sick of this environment. Besides, I feel like I can't express myself the way I like here. I feel like I have to adapt. My psychiatrist makes me want to adapt, no matter what; she molds me. I'm tired of her, of the way she does things. I feel like everyone serves nothing more and nothing less than to pressure me. Plus, my family members make the same mistakes with me; with them, I don't feel I have the right to get sick, and it's not fair that that happens. I want to be with someone I feel safe with, not half-baked, and I think she wants the same.

It's incredible that I can't even share a sad story with those around me because no one knows what to do with their feelings; they don't know how to say they don't know, they don't even know how to ask. I'm also tired of being seen at work as someone who does everything wrong out of carelessness; it's impossible, and I have to put them in their place. I feel like this is an environment that will collapse if I don't correct their vision, their vision, and I can't take care of their emotions. They're all grown up now.

While I was at work, my colleague, while I was busy doing something else, and after we'd done something together, asked my colleague if she had anything to do without taking me into account, making me feel bad, and then I had to resolve the issue. That girl also has a terrible smell. I feel like my boss works like a disorganized person; one has to be at his mercy. That colleague who was asked clearly acts recklessly at all costs. I just want to get out of there.

It's surprising that that girl I saw a long time ago didn't realize these feelings I was experiencing. That person understood that because she was experiencing anger, rage, with the environment, and I was the new one, then I had to distance myself to stop experiencing that. In other words, to fade away. How can anyone treat themselves like that, for God's sake? The most I could do with her was to confront it with everyone around her wherever I was, and arrange things accordingly. If he didn't know how to control his feelings, then he could get out of my life I didn't care about the circumstances I was in. The last time I saw her, I closed doors with her and walked away. Her feelings aren't my problem; in fact, I even removed her from my social media, for God's sake. I didn't want her in my life at all. I was paying the price for things I didn't do; she once made things up when I walked past her at a cafe; she made up that I was the poor thing when I didn't do anything; I don't know what the hell was wrong with that girl. That girl was out of her depth with her emotions, and the worst part was that everyone helped her do it, and I paid the price. After I brought the authorities to the court, after a big fuss, they tried to treat me like I was the bad guy. I regret it. I left that place and never went back. It was a very prestigious university, too. It can't be true. I couldn't even read in peace there; I didn't want to help something I wasn't obligated to, and my routine was ruined.

Damn, how long is my routine going to continue to be ruined? The gentleman, I think I mentioned it before, thinks he's my friend. He got excited about me just because I said hello. How long can this neediness continue? I can't stand it anymore. I want to be back in my quiet routine. This girl I like, whom I just met, I think I mentioned her before, I feel she can contribute to my routine. I don't have to hide like I have to with my surroundings. I feel like my entire surroundings affect my routine, and I can't understand that. I need to change my environment at all costs, if possible, change jobs, because I feel like things aren't safe in the community I'm in; I feel like I have a lot of enemies.

Why is it that I can't count on anyone to deal with these feelings? Besides, my dad encouraged me to stay with my boss, who left me with someone else, at a different job he had, and who wreaked havoc on my life, almost destroying me professionally within that community. Is that even conscience? I don't see where it is. Since this girl arrived, this girl I like, she's helped me see what's going on around me, and so I'm very grateful because she's allowing me to ground myself with her presence; and we've only made a few gestures.

It's incredible. I don't want to be surrounded by these ineffective people anymore—could it be that my other two posts were published? The notifications aren't showing up. Why are they wasting so much of my time? I'm getting to the point of exposing my privacy in all its splendor. In fact, I'm tired of writing about it, acting in silence. I want to express myself no matter what, say what I feel, without any filter. I now understand how someone I knew, an older woman, felt.

Why can't I be calm? Why is it that everyone interrupts my routine? Why do I have to silently stop them so they'll leave me alone? Why can't I say things upfront? Why the hell do I have to keep everything to myself? Besides, I always have to go around giving hypocritical hugs, lying affection, all to look good and avoid problems. My life can't continue like this. I want everything to change once and for all. I want to throw everything away because I can't stand it.

I can't stand my job. They've only made things worse for me. I can't stand my parents; they've only served to stress me out. I hate my aunt, everything I have to change for her. I want to leave these people, go far away, never to return. The pressure I'm under here is too much. I have to do it.

I have to start surrounding myself with projects that contribute, with people who contribute, with people who aren't just for a short while but who truly want to stay in my life, in a context, to provide support—it doesn't help, they're different things—and we all help each other grow. I no longer want to be surrounded by individuals who are out of place with me, and those who are most in place are abusive. This is over.

After the so-called treatment, all I saw were many disasters with my family. Nothing turned out well because of them. It can't be that they're all so useless! It makes me want to never see them again! I don't understand how a family can achieve that! I want everyone to go away, for all the misfits to go away. I want people who are in tune with me. It can't be that the psychiatrist isn't one of those people. To this day, I can't believe it.

I can't believe she feels that my therapy space is a useless, good-for-nothing place, that contributes nothing, that actually wastes my time. It can't be, although I also recognize that I'm under the fierce influence of my relatives, who didn't even know how to support me. How can an aunt tell me that my mother can't make me react intensely?! Has such a thing ever been heard?! That woman seems like she's never had a mother in her life, for God's sake! No wonder everyone thinks she's so mad!

I hope I don't find a hell like this with the girl I like. I don't have a way to call it, and I don't think I'm being rude. I don't want to find someone who has problems, really, who has difficulties with their family. I want someone who's outgrown that, so we can be together and free from the past. That would be good for me. I want a break from problematic people, for the love of God. I also feel annoyed because a man is going to take a book from a library I always use, and I won't have it available. That bothers me, and he knows it, and I'm uncertain; on top of that, I don't know if the boys will be able to find the copy in that library.

I feel very annoyed. I think the last thing I said between the lines got me all that. I think so, I couldn't stand it anymore. And I think that's good, reaching points where one can't tolerate lower thresholds, that are low thresholds, not excessive, and that allow for contextualized action, which I feel is what this text allows. I needed to say these things.