Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 10

it’s been six months since I moved to New York City, and I can’t shake this feeling of loneliness. being 29 and living in such a bustling city is supposed to be exciting, right? well, I thought so too. As I walk around the streets filled with lively faces and vibrant energy, I find myself feeling disconnected and isolated. the sheer size of the city amplifies my loneliness; it’s ironic how one can feel so alone in a crowd. sometimes, I wonder if others feel the same way; do they also walk around with an invisible barrier between themselves and the world around them?

to combat this loneliness, I decided to engage in some volunteer work. I thought that maybe helping others would not only distract me from my own feelings but also help me connect with new people. I signed up at a local food bank and participated regularly, serving meals and sorting donations. while it was fulfilling to see the smiles on people's faces, I still returned home feeling hollow. the relationships formed during those moments were fleeting and shallow; it’s not like I was building lasting connections. I had hoped for more than just a brief encounter; I wanted to form friendships and find a sense of belonging. instead, I left with the same heavy heart, counting the days since I moved to this city.

during my time volunteering, I made small talk with a few people, sharing brief exchanges and pleasantries. however, I would return to my empty apartment, and the silence would feel deafening. it seems that despite the efforts I had put into trying to engage with others, I still found myself without real friends or a support system. I have considered joining clubs or classes, but the thought of walking into a room full of strangers is daunting, and I often find myself hesitating. does everyone feel this uncertainty when meeting new people? am I the only one struggling to find my place in a city that never sleeps? 🤔

even though the loneliness has been overwhelming, I refuse to let it consume me. I remind myself that I chose to live in New York City for a reason, and I believe that the opportunities for connection are boundless. I have been exploring new hobbies, such as painting and attending community events, and while I have yet to forge lasting friendships, I remain hopeful. each day brings new possibilities; it’s a matter of putting myself out there. perhaps it is just a matter of time; I trust that with patience, I will find my tribe. the journey towards connection can be incredibly challenging, but I strive to remain positive and cultivate a sense of gratitude for the experiences I have had so far.

in conclusion, my loneliness has led me to reflect on myself and what I truly desire from my life in this magnificent city. I acknowledge the pain of feeling disconnected, yet I see it as a stepping stone towards personal growth. while the struggles may feel heavy now, I am motivated to keep moving forward and seek connections that will enrich my life. ultimately, I know I am not alone in my journey. so, if you find yourself feeling lonely too, how do you cope with it? what steps do you take to connect with others? let's find solace in sharing these experiences, for perhaps together we can navigate this vast city and create meaningful connections in the process; you never know what could be just around the corner.

I'm a young teen and the 3rd/youngest child in my family.

My mom has schizophrenia(she hears things rather than hallucinates) and terrible paranoia, and all my life I had to live with this ALONE. My father works abroad though he regularly calls to check up on us, and my older brothers moved to live with my grandma when I was younger. I'm guessing it's to run away from my mom, but I was left with her. Maybe because I was too young to understand things, and they needed to have someone to live with her so she won't be lonely... But because of this, I've been isolated, lonely, drained, and sometimes depressed.

I had to deal with my mom staying at my school and wait until I got dismissed every single day for 4 fucking years. I was a child back then so I didn't understand anything and thought it was normal. I'd have my friends and classmates ask me why she stays at school and I would never know what to say so I'd repeat the same answer, "Because she cares about me." Well, I wasn't exactly wrong because she does care about me but she worries WAY TOO MUCH. I thought it was okay at first until I couldn't even go anywhere in school campus without her following me. I couldn't eat with any of my friends at the cafeteria because I was eating with her. Hell, I couldn't even have fun with the cool kids for the first time because she was there following me. I would tell her, "I wanna be independent and go to school alone!" but she'd never listen. EVEN TILL THIS DAY, I'm currently in high school and will soon go to Senior high, and though she doesn't stay at my school anymore, she still won't listen to me and continues to treat me like I can't take care of myself, like I don't know how to get home, like I'm still 6 years old. I hate it. My father tries to help, especially when he's home over the holidays. He'd argue with my mom to let me be a teenager. But she won't listen and make up excuses.

A year ago, I was at a very depressed point in my life and started self-harming. It got to a point where I wanted to see a guidance counselor because I couldn't take it anymore. She was honestly the only adult I felt comfortable being honest with. After opening up to her, she recommended I go see a psychiatrist and give her the results so she knows what she's dealing with and will know how to help me. She had to call a parent about this but because my father is working abroad, she had to call my mom. But it wasn't a good idea to tell my mom because when she did, my mom thought it was POINTLESS. So my guidance counselor had to call my guardian, my oldest brother. Thankfully, he listened and took me to see a psychiatrist(it took him a few weeks though for him to finally take me to one.) Because I'm young, I needed to have a guardian with me when I go to see my psychiatrist, so I had both of my older brothers. I don't know if the psychiatrist even helped, I mean, she did help a bit with dealing with my mom but I already knew how. I've gotten used to it. I think it was better if I saw a therapist. I haven't been able to give my guidance counselor the results back because I thought I could handle things on my own, which obviously I'm not doing good at if I'm typing my life in an anonymous venting site😭🙏

Since then, I don't know why but I've felt drained from my own family. I looked up to my brothers but they barely talk to me. They barely helped me at all when I lived alone with my mom. I thought they would because they went through similar things as me when they were younger, but they never really did much. My oldest brother would pick me up and drive me to see a date or go to a sleepover so my mom won't follow and my other brother would help me with assignments I have struggles with but honestly that's it. I don't want to sound ungrateful and expect more from my brothers, I know how much they went through but I just wish they treated me like their little sister, someone who's struggling the same way they were.

I'm only ever in contact with them when it comes to something I need, whether it be picking me up or asking them to be my guardian for a school event. Hell, even when we go out for family dinners, with my dad or not, they still barely talk to me. A month ago, me, my mom, and my brothers went out to celebrate my reward for being an outstanding student but even then, they barely talked to me. WE NEVER EVEN WENT ANYWHERE BUT JUST ATE DINNER AT SOME YOGURT PLACE AT THE MALL AND SIT AT SOME MUSICAL SHOW WHILE MY MOM WENT TO DO GROCERIES??? It was supposed to be a dinner celebrating MY achievement yet they barely even acknowledged my existence. I had to cry in the public bathroom and go out there pretending like everything was fine. I don't even know if my brothers even care about me, I know they do but sometimes it feels like they don't.

I don't think they even care to notice I'm barely taking care of myself. Hell, my mom literally called my brother telling him that I haven't been eating anything for the past few days and he didn't think to even message me.

Honestly, the only person in my family who genuinely cares about me and my well-being is my father. Though not here a lot, he calls me asking if I'm okay. When he's home, he makes sure I eat properly and sleep properly. He supports me and wishes the best for me and for my brothers. He's the only person in my family who I can be myself to and feel comfortable with. He's the main reason why I haven't kicked the bucket during covid. It would kill me even more to know how painful it would be for my father if I killed myself.

Other than my father, I don't know how to feel about my family anymore. I told myself that they do care, but I'm finding it hard to believe that anymore.

i can hardly believe that I’m sitting here at 30 years old, feeling like the biggest loser on the planet. for years, I was under the impression that pouring my heart and soul into my career would eventually lead to some degree of success and fulfillment; yet, yesterday I received the delightful news that I was laid off from a job I devoted a decade to. there I was, the quintessential “successful career woman,” or at least I thought I was — no husband, no kids, nothing but a fancy job title that seems to have vanished into thin air. 👍🏽 it’s almost laughable how I’ve spent my entire adult life chasing this elusive idea of success while neglecting the more important realities of life.

what now? I sit here sipping my cold coffee, staring out the window, contemplating if I’m supposed to stick to my meticulously planned life goals. the irony is not lost on me; I envisioned a prestigious title and a plush desk, perhaps even a partner by my side, but instead I have a cat who looks equally disillusioned when I try to explain my unemployment, as if it understands my shattered dreams. my colleagues are posting job updates and accomplishments on LinkedIn, while I scroll through my feed, salty as hell, feeling like I’m living some bad joke. am I destined to be that one woman everyone remembers fondly but wonders why she never settled down? 😔

it’s truly incredible how quickly everything unravels, isn’t it? even amidst this chaos, I find myself reflecting on recent conversations with friends who often remind me that life is not merely about titles and accolades; it’s about experiences and connections. sure, it’s easier said than done when your mind is a swirling mess of doubt, but I think back to my last vacation, chilling on the beach with friends, laughing at ridiculous comparisons of our lives. I have traveled the world, but each journey was mostly solo, a grim reminder that I have yet to share these moments with someone special. still, my heart tells me there’s a silver lining; perhaps this is the universe’s way of saying, “Girl, it’s time to reinvent yourself!”; when was the last time I took a real risk, anyway?

in short, I’m determined not to let this layoff define me or my future. I’ve got a list of ideas for side hustles and things I’ve always wanted to try but shoved aside for the glorified 9-to-5 lifestyle. I’ve been meaning to explore photography again, or even consider going back to school for something totally out of the box. the possibilities are endless, or at least they seem more appealing than wallowing in self-pity. so here’s my question for you, fellow venters: how do you bounce back when life hits you hard? is there really a light at the end of this tunnel, or am I just deluding myself with false hopes? I’d love to know; it’s just me and my cat, and she isn’t much for advice. 🐱

so, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this whole freelancing gig combined with building a SaaS platform, right? it’s honestly a mess. I’m 25, and not a developer at all, but here I am, thinking I can just roll up my sleeves, watch a few YouTube videos on how to build software with AI, and magically make it all happen; my girlfriend? yeah, she's not so supportive anymore. when I first told her I was going to dive into this thing, her eyes kinda lit up, but that faded quickly into this cold hard stare like she’s watching a train wreck in slow motion. she keeps saying things like, “you know, not everyone is cut out for this, and maybe you’re just wasting time and money.” and honestly, those words gnaw at me like a constant background static. it's amazing how someone you love can inspire both motivation and doubt at the same time. after binge-watching videos, you’d think I’d be golden; but no, it turns out that coding is like trying to learn a foreign language while climbing a mountain blindfolded! it’s not simple, it’s not intuitive, and sometimes I feel like the more I learn, the less I actually know. I keep telling myself, “there is no try, only do,” but is that even true? with everything from front-end user interfaces that need to look sleek to back-end architecture that needs to be solid, it feels like I’m trying to juggle flaming swords while blindfolded! the other day, I attempted to code this feature that I thought would be revolutionary, right? I’d been watching some tutorial on how to incorporate machine learning to analyze user behavior but when I finally tried to implement it, my code just crapped out on me; I didn’t just get an error, I got an existential crisis wrapped in a tech failure. I mean, seriously, who am I fooling? I’m sitting here staring at this screen like I’ve lost my mind, and the worst part? the more I dive into this, the more I can feel her doubts creeping in and sinking into my brain! it’s relentless! how do I prove to her—or even myself—that I can really make this work? every time I show her a little bit of progress, it’s like I can hear her inner voice saying, “great, another day wasted on a pipe dream.” but you know what? that’s the struggle of the freelancer, isn't it? constantly battling not just market competition but your inner demons and the opinions of those around you! and don’t even get me started on all the self-proclaimed “entrepreneurs” online spinning tales of their immense success one month after they started their business. do you ever wonder if some of them are just pulling a fast one on us? there has to be a good chunk of them who are just as lost as I am, right? sometimes I feel like I'm just another cog in a giant machine that’s destined to break down. I mean, come on! does anyone actually just pick up coding and have instant success? because if that’s the case, then I might need to re-evaluate my life choices! it’s not all sunshine and rainbows; it’s more like being trapped in a perpetual storm cloud that rains down self-doubt instead of water. while I keep pushing through these coding blocks and trying to keep my head above water, every notification I get seems like a reminder of how much further I am from any type of success. have you ever felt that way, where every step forward is accompanied by a hundred steps backward? do you think it’s just a psychological trick that our minds play on us? like the more you succeed, the more brutally aware you become of the uphill battle ahead? I even signed up for a few forums and groups, thinking I’d find solidarity or a little inspiration, but honestly, it seems like it’s just an echo chamber of complaints and failed projects; sure, there are success stories sprinkled in there, but a lot feel like gimmicks, you know? how do some people garner millions in funding while I’m just out here sweating over a simple AI-driven user interface? am I just a fool chasing after shadows, or can I actually turn this around?! sometimes I think I should just toss in the towel and get a 'real' job that pays the bills instead of this stressful rollercoaster ride of tech dreams and failures. it’s exhausting living on this edge of hope and despair every single day while I try to create something out of nothing. so what do I do? do I listen to my girlfriend and consider this a lost cause or do I forge ahead blindly into the chaos of the unknown, clinging to this idea that if I push hard enough, maybe, just maybe, I’ll find something worthwhile on the other side of all this mess?

so, like, my ex keeps trying to contact me and it’s super annoying!!! I thought we were done when we broke up a few months ago, but he just won’t take a hint. I even blocked him on all social media platforms but somehow he still finds a way to message me??? like, how? I mean, is it really that hard for him to understand that I don’t want to talk to him anymore? I’m 22 and just trying to live my life; I don’t need this drama!!! 😩

the worst part is, he sometimes sends me these really inappropriate texts and, honestly, it makes me feel so uncomfortable. who does that? like, hello, I don’t want to receive those kinds of messages. it’s like he has no respect for me or my boundaries at all!!! I tried responding nicely the first few times, hoping he would get it. I was like, “hey, please stop texting me, I’m not interested,” but he just brushes it off and tries again. it’s exhausting!!! 😒

I even thought about changing my number, but then I realized that wouldn’t solve the problem because if he finds me on Instagram or any other platform, it just repeats itself. I really don’t want to keep playing this game of cat and mouse! I don’t want to have those awkward confrontations where I have to explain why I don’t want to talk to him... it just feels so unnecessary and, to be honest, a little embarrassing. isn’t it sad that it’s reached this point? 😳 I’m trying to think of a way to cut him off for good; I'm considering reporting and blocking but that feels like a whole thing;

I guess my question is, what should I even do next? has anyone been in a similar situation? I just want peace but this keeps dragging on and it’s getting super old! sometimes it feels like he thinks we’re still together or something and it’s confusing!!! I know I need to stand my ground but all this back and forth is just too much. ugh, I wish I could just turn back time and avoid all of this drama! anyone have advice? please help!!! 🙏

I don’t know why but these last few days have felt like weeks.

Everything feels longer slower even.

Like it’s moving by inch by inch.

Like a movie that you’re watching while you trying to keep your eyes open.

You’re trying so hard but when you blink for a long moment it’s still on the same scene.

Everything is just feels pointless.

Like there’s no important end result to any of my actions.

I have the energy to do stuff.

It’s rarely me ever being tired it’s more the lack of motivation.

My body just won’t let me do things I used to.

I’ve learned that energy is like a kids birthday money

you know you have it but yet you will never be able to spend it before it’s gone.

It’s like I’m physically being held back by my brain.

I leave a room and the smile that was there just turns blank.

Everything turns blank so what was the point of all that?

Why is everything watered down?

Things that used to make me giggle hard enough to the point where my stomach would hurt

now makes me give a brief smile if I’m lucky.

I have to force myself to laugh.

I’m not funny anymore.

It’s like my sense of humor expired and now it’s copying the world around it.

I want to be see as funny and outgoing but it never works.

Giving up on that I wanted to be seen as mature and put together

but it just comes off as just stupid dreams of a child

and gets shut down within the first five seconds.

I started to express myself in the page. In the sketchbook.

It looked like a cringe worthy sight but it was how I felt.

So I drew images I saw online and called my own art

because technically that’s what it was.

But deep down it was more. It was how I felt.

A bunch of scribbles that to the normal person would be seen as an image and not a cry for help deep down.

Multiple people saw these dark gore filled pages and didn’t bat an eye.

They complimented it said how good it looked how it was my style not my feelings.

I wish people would see more.

I wish they could see how much I feel trapped.

I wish I could be freed from my brain.

I’ve recently found myself not enjoying most of my old hobbies.

Playing video games feels like chores when I’m alone.

Drawing outside of school hasn’t been done in ages.

I just sit. I sit.

I sit and feel like I want to cry yet my eyes won’t give me the relief of crying.

My chest stays compressed. Having that hurt sad feeling.

I remember joining theatre and thinking acting was easy.

Maybe that’s cause I had always been doing it. I was always able to spot it.

But now I’m seeing it and feeling it in my environment and it’s messing with my head. Just like everything else I’ve done has.

Seventh grade I remember thinking I wasn’t good enough

and hurting myself while I was watching the older better kids.

I had done basketball just as long as the other kids.

Why can’t I do it the same?

Last year it was speech.

I joined expecting greatness but I got last after last after last.

I got our results only to find out I had majority of the problems.

I felt like I was holding you back.

Not allowing you to reach you full potential. Not allowing you to fly.

I remember telling myself I wasn’t good enough.

But this time I didn’t have the experience.

Why was I so hard on myself?

All this happened year after year.

I haven’t yet had my annual burnt out self hatred.

I know it’s coming I can feel it.

I know that my mental health is depleted but yet I know the worst is yet to come.

And I know I’m going to sit there in silence through the whole thing like I’ve done for years.

There used to be so much but then it just went numb

I see things that should hurt me and I know they do

But I just get nothing

It's 6 am now. And can't tell of i can't sleep or Just don't want to. The past two days have been pretty bad. And i messed up. Again. Last two days i managed to get nothing done on my list. I washes my hair after a long time but that's about It. And i feel so stupid and so ashamed. I though i was making progress but i made a step foward and two backwards and wasted all this time and messed up my schedule. School was exhausting, my mom Is obssesed with a diet Plan and trying to drag me along ( i want to be supportive but i honestly can't deal with a diet or her constantly talking about It right now.) I'm behind again. The weather Is shitty. Food doesn't taste right. Clothes feel uncomfortable, and sleep makes me feel more tired and more ashamed.

Everything this I say to this girl she trips. The reason why I am mad now is because she swears she knows me everything, this pisses me off so badd. So basically we’re teens and today I come home after 4 something. I get out at 3:15, the house is supposed to be clean, I come it’s not clean. When I tell her, she swear up and down she’s clean more then me, then my moms gets on my ass about the house. Tbh if they don’t care I don’t either. I may have anger issues but when we’re having an argument she makes it seem like I’m jealous of her of insecure, and I’m like girl what.. and I tried actually talking to her but she’s says dumb stuff that makes me wanna actually wanna slap her. Back on the house thingy, she stayed home the entire day, and did nothing butt rearrange the pillows.. yall😂. But yeah my mom gets on my ass about everything so.. am I wrong? Or being pushy? (Sorry if you’re confused, I’m writing this while mad rn)

I have a friend I'll be calling W.

So I woke up this morning with a huge headache, which ended up being a migraine I'd been expiriancing all week. I could harfly move without immense pain in my skull, and it just got worse throughout the day.

At some point, I had to go to the nurses's office and get my mom to pick me up because of how bad it was getting. My mom took me to the doctor's and the doctor themself said that if the medication she gives us doesn't work then I will probably need to get an IV due to how bad it is. I texted this to my friend (who was still at school at the time) just so they would know why I had to leave.

I have to take days off school a lot because I often get really sick (Mainly during the spring because apparently thats a thing), which W gets kind of mad at me for. They usually play it off as 'your grades will plummit' but a few times they've been downright pissed (theres also quitea few things I don't pick up on because I have autism escpecially with text messages, so there could be something I'm completely missing).

When my friend got back and talked about the whole failing classes thing again, I said I understood but I physically was about to black out. I kind of made a joke about myself not having a strong immune system (because jokes are how I've been coping with stuff for a few years now, and it's nothing new to my friend group because two other people do it too) and thats when they went off. they said I was too busy laughing to care about other people, which kind of confused me because they're usually the one making fun of my weak immune system. I told W I wanted to stay at school but was going to black out, but then they started talking about how it's not their job to 'make me perfect' which honestly confused me even more. They also said how they shouldn't be pointing out my mistakes (as in ones with relationships I think) which just made me even more confused because up until then they'd always talk about how I had to fix those things, which I tried really hard to do. I don't at all understand why it's such a bad thing I had to leave because of the migraines if I was going to pass out, and I don't know what to say to them/if I should say anything, or if I should even go to school tomorrow (a part of me of me secretly kind of hopes that I do have to miss due to the migraines and having to be in the hospital or wherever just so I can prove the migraines aren't just some headache like they think they are).

I have no clue what to do now, I'm scared of loosing this friend, and my head is still killing me.

I don't know why I had to endure the treatment I endured. I feel like I lived surrounded by pure monsters, by people who wanted to change my life, who didn't love me. I don't know why I had to live through something like that. What did I do to the world to have to live through something like that? I had to put everyone in their place. It's as if they'd been waiting a long time for the day this would happen. I'd never seen such vengeful intent on the part of my family. I feel like it was the worst, on the part of medicine, on the part of the world.

I didn't understand why the hell the world turned against me. What did I do? I just wanted to be free from everyone. Why this eagerness to grab me? Do they think that because I'm a family member, I'm doomed to receive their punishment? They're all crazy. How many after-effects didn't they leave me with? How much did I have to write to survive the after-effects? So that these things wouldn't affect me in the future. And the psychiatrist ignores this! Why did I have to walk the path alone again? I don't understand. I feel like this is a very real reality for me. I'm having a hard time processing it fully.

It brings tears to my eyes. Why did I have to fight with my family? My departure was supposed to have made them reflect on their principles, but they weren't even capable of that. They only reflected on some brutal things, trying to figure out how to intervene with me. How could I be like this? Why the hell did I encounter such a bunch of macabre people? How long will I have to live putting them in their place? Don't they have the capacity to reflect? To learn? What the hell is wrong with them? Do you have problems there or something?

It can't be that I left for three years and these people only got worse. I can't believe it. They hit me, once, twice, three times, and now a fourth time. Who the hell needs to go to a psychiatrist? Me or them? It's clear they have serious behavioral problems. The same things happen again and again. They lack the ability to learn, they seek to do things secretly, seeking to do more harm. Why do these people only improve, leading them astray? Until when? Is it that a case in them cannot be trusted? Where is the education? I find it hard to believe that this I found is a family of mine. Personally, I say it, I admit it, it can't be that I found it, it's my blood. I can't believe this is my blood. Once again, pushing them aside, to the side, happened again. Until when?

I ask myself: Do these individuals really want family? Do these individuals really want to be with me? Where is the desire that verifies it? Where is the affection? It can't be that they're going back to the same mistakes as before. It can't be. It's clear that they don't want to get out of the same situation they're in with me. They're just making excuses, they don't want to be with me, but I've had enough of them. I've given them plenty of opportunities to change; it's been enough.

I feel totally disappointed in my family members. And not just in them, but in the doctors too, who clearly haven't reflected one bit on what happened, nothing short of a sad act of heroism. Where is a reflective world? It's impossible that no one has shared the cause of this explosion with them, it can't be. And they're healthcare workers! I can't stand these professionals any longer. Do they know how to socialize? If that's the case, it should apply to all cases, not just a select few. It's in diversity that things are seen. But what do I have to do with them? I don't see anything, I don't see effort, I don't see reflection. Where is the brainpower to move the world forward?

I feel deeply outraged. It's impossible that to this day someone suggested I celebrate Mother's Day again, as an adult, and also without knowing the circumstances, and also as someone who cares for children, and not just her, but also another who is a teacher. Why have I surrounded myself with these kinds of people? Where's the capacity for reflection? Are we just going to support the maintenance of a family structure? What if it's a façade, as is often the case, for the perpetuation of crime by one of its thousands of agents? Where's even the conscience of the citizenry? Frankly, I don't understand.

Is this what many people I've grown accustomed to wanted in people? These people are capable of bringing down a country. Am I going to be with them? For that, I'd rather pack my bags and leave forever, or at least, if I were to experience that, have the satisfaction of knowing that it was going to happen, and then formulate a support plan, but only by following the matter closely. That's being preemptive! Why does no one want to see that? Is that why no one wants to know what's going on in the environment, the people there? I mean, do I have to join them in that fall? It's not fair, I don't have to pay for the unconsciousness of others.

So, here I am, sitting in my messy room, trying to figure out if I’m just some person who’s a little slow on the uptake when it comes to feelings or if I’m actually asexual. To be honest, I really don’t know. I mean, I’m 17, and all my friends are out there exploring their “sexual awakenings” or whatever they call it, but for me, it’s like a big ol’ void. Like, I don’t even know what I’m missing. I get that everyone’s on this wild ride of hormones and romantic entanglements, and there’s me, standing on the sidelines like I’m stuck at a video game level that won’t load. My friends casually toss around terms like “crush” and “hookup” while I'm over here thinking, “why bother?” It’s like I’m reading a manual in a different language that nobody thought to translate for me.

The other day, my buddy was all hyped up about this girl he liked, and he was telling me what he thought would happen. He kept dropping lines about “chemistry” and “sparks,” and I just couldn’t relate. Every time I hear someone say, “you’ll know when it happens,” I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised I don’t see my brain. I mean, what does that even mean? Do I need to sacrifice a goat or something to get this so-called “spark”? I’ve tried to be interested; I’ve flicked through dating apps, swiped here and there, and honestly, it feels like a chore. Like, I’m trying to watch a movie that everyone claims is a masterpiece, but I’m just sitting there wondering when the good part starts. My mind wanders to the definition of asexuality, and I catch myself thinking that maybe I fit that description. But then I wonder—am I just overthinking, or is it real? Am I just taking a little longer to get to the party?

I’ve read enough articles, seen plenty of videos to know that asexuality isn’t just “being picky” or something you grow out of when you hit puberty; it's a legitimate orientation. But it gnaws at me. Am I really asexual or just a late bloomer who’s scared of rejection? I mean, every time the topic of sex comes up, my brain goes into this autopilot mode where I’m nodding along, but inside I’m just screaming, “This isn't for me!” It feels like I’m meant to be a part of this club, but they won’t let me through the door, and I’m honestly starting to think I might not even want to go in. Maybe that’s the crux of it—this nagging feeling that says, “why do I have to be labeled at all?” So, dear reader, I turn this back to you: Am I asexual, just confused, or frankly, who cares? Do you ever feel this disconnect, or is it just me spiraling down this rabbit hole?

It's been five long years since that fateful day when my entire world was turned upside down. I vividly recall sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels, when an unexpected call shattered the fragile sense of calm. My best friend, the one I confided in and celebrated countless milestones with, had crossed the ultimate line—he stole my wife. I was blindsided, left grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—betrayal, anger, and profound sadness. Now, out of the blue, he’s reaching out, claiming he misses our friendship. As I contemplate this peculiar situation, I find myself wrestling with the fundamental question: how does one forgive someone for such a monumental transgression? 🤔

The wounds inflicted by that betrayal run deep, making it difficult for me to even entertain the notion of rekindling any semblance of a relationship. A close friend once told me, “Forgiveness is not about the other person; it’s about you.” This thought lingers in my mind as I resist the urge to react impulsively. Is forgiveness synonymous with condoning his actions? I often wonder if I am ready to welcome that kind of emotional vulnerability back into my life. Perhaps he truly has had a change of heart, and yet that doesn’t erase the pain of lost trust and shattered expectations. I also reflect on the impact this could have on my personal development. After all, holding onto bitterness can be like drinking poison and expecting the other person to suffer. Yet, will I be strong enough to let go?

Admittedly, the idea of forgiveness is a double-edged sword, tantalizing yet terrifying. I can’t help but ponder the concept of second chances. Are we not all human, prone to error? If I were to grant my friend the opportunity to explain himself, would I be unearthing potential for closure or merely reopening old wounds? I sit here, weighing the delicate balance between self-preservation and compassion. Ultimately, I want to be optimistic—perhaps this is a moment to reflect on personal growth. Could this be the pivotal moment that propels me towards healing? Ultimately, I aim to navigate these turbulent waters with an open heart. Have you ever found yourself in a similar situation? How did you manage to forgive someone who caused you immense pain?

Vent. My mom's going on a diet to loose weigh (and She's becoming slightly obsessive and weird about It, but whatever. It's her choice and i'm assuming She made her research) i'm also overweight, probably around her same weight (90/95 kg) and she wanted me to follow her on this diet ( to which i said no. Multiple times.) and to install a calorie tracking app. (She says she didn't but i'm not deaf and i ain't dumb. She often changes her words last minute when She realizes She upsets someone) I didn't really have a way to answer since She was fast about It and i installed It to supporto her. But honestly I want nothing to do with this. I like to cook and i want to eat what i'm in the Mood for. Plus i'm honestly not in a good headspace for this. There's a lot going on right now. I'm overwhelmed and burntout from school. Really tired. Struggling with sleep and Hygiene and workload and productivity. I'm working on building a nice space for myself, forming good habits, taking care of myself and creating a routine to study and have good grades. Plus. It's a fact. I like to eat. I like to cook. And sometimes i'm so low, exhausted and stressed out that my comfort foods are the only thing keeping me together. I don't want to be unsupportive but i'm so tired of hearing her talk about this. She's been talking about non Stop for weeks. And i'm not headspace to try It or even listen to her anymore. I'm so done. But now i feel so evil for snapping at her.

so, the other day, my kids hit me with that classic line again: “dad, you’re overreacting!” honestly, it feels like a universal law in our household now. a simple mishap, like forgetting to take out the trash? suddenly, it's World War III in my living room. I swear, it’s like my reaction is some overblown sitcom scene, where I’m dramatic for no reason. I try to be chill, but something in me just snaps when I see their mess and the trash piling up. I mean, who wants to live in a pigsty, right?

last week, for example, I caught my youngest trying to microwave a sandwich. I’ll be straight-up with you, the thought of him making that decision just got my dad senses tingling. like, isn’t that a recipe for disaster? those moments when I see their creativity with food just make my heart race. I yelled out, “are you trying to give yourself food poisoning?” I heard the groans as soon as I caught that sparkle of enthusiasm in his eyes—"dad, calm down, it’s just a sandwich!" but seriously, what if it gets burnt? or worse, they try to cook one of those fancy burnt cheese things; it’s like playing with fire! I need them to understand that safety first; it’s about survival too.

then there’s the time they thought it was a good idea to ride their bikes down that steep hill at the park. I mean, come on! the thought of them flying into traffic gave me heart palpitations. I yelled something like, “you’ll break a bone or worse!” and they rolled their eyes at me like I’m living in a different era. it’s almost like they think their dad is just an overly cautious, ridiculous figure to bicker with. I just want to protect them, I swear it’s not just me being dramatic. there’s a fine line between adventure and stupidity, right? how does anyone know where that line is when you have kids who think they're invincible?

one evening, we were watching a movie, and there was a jump scare that made me spill my popcorn everywhere. I went off on a mini-rant, like, “why do filmmakers feel the need to jolt us like that?” my kids laughed, of course. “dad, chill out! it’s just a movie!” it’s like I became the punchline in their comedy show. I’ll admit, I can tend to get a little carried away. yet, how can I not when it feels like everyone around me is playing games with my heart rate? still, I sometimes wonder if I really am overreacting; maybe I should loosen up a bit.

truthfully, I think there’s a straight-up imbalance between their carefree nature and my protective instincts. I want them to explore and be free, but man, do I sometimes feel like a sitcom dad on the verge of a nervous breakdown. am I really overreacting, or do I just have an overabundance of caution that keeps shocking them? I thought being a parent would come with a manual or something. every day is this unique challenge, and I really gotta ask myself—what's wrong with them acting like my reactions are just part of their teenage amusement? it’s a real conundrum; should I embrace the chaos or keep pushing back, expecting them to listen?

Myself 35F and my husband 36M have been wanting to start a family for a while now. A things initially put us off such as space and family drama. As well as some conditions 35F has.

We decided this was something we have to try been referred to - specialist for these going through tests and realise that we are told we only have months try before going to possibly do IVF.

We are keeping this private. But some of the family isn’t supportive they have to try or won’t know.

A family member has a big birthday coming up and they want to book something but we have told them that we can’t commit as we also have another big family birthday that weekend and that their night be more people to consider it a little one if possible. Am I over reacting given that the birthday is 10 months away and we have been given less than thst to start a family? What do people always have to book so far in advance and we keep getting pushed for an answer. I really want a baby and to be pregnant but I am wondering if k am putting too much pressure on it and myself. Especially if we do have a baby it will be hard to travel.

Not sure they underpants that or willing to give us space. I feel very on edge about it all. As I want it so much. Thoughts?