Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 2

My friendship is really complicated my friends are nice don't get me wrong but I don't know it always seem like something is missing and that sometime I feel trap and empty with them and I get bored and annoyed and that's not how friendship works it's supposed to make us better and never want to live them. And I miss my best friend so badly but we rarely talks it just make me so sad and I feel really lonely sometime. However I am grateful for what I have because I know that some people don't have friends and that was me some time ago so yeah... Please tell me if you can relate to me please it will mean the world.

I can't stand my mom anymore I am living in her emotions and I just can't take it anymore. I don't even know where too start. It's like when she's in good mood I need to be like her too and she will buy me things I didn't even ask for and be super nice too me and all and then on the days that she's in bad mood everything is my fault she start too yell at me for nothing like this one time when she was coughing and I didn't ask her if she was ok and she started to crash out on me and then bring out every thing that she did when she was in good mood and say that she does so much thing for me and that I never do anything and sometime almost always she hits me, insult me and make me feel so bad. I just can't live in her emotions. I am lost and on the verge of depression I don't know what to do and I'm lost. Please give me advice it will mean the world to me

It's actually so stupid how low I've actually stooped to. Just very recently all of the school stress and fear of criticism from friends (plus their hurtful jokes) has made me reach a new low. I was really trying not to ever do this, but I did. I just one day decided to find that one box cutter in my pencil case and try it out on my arm. The reason I even did it was to actually take away attention from another wound I had in the moment. Though somehow I would've thought I'd feel bad, but i didn't. Instead I just felt weird and dazed. The plan was to just do it that once, yet it somehow turned into more. I let the ones on my arm heal, since they weren't even that deep, and I moved on to one of my thighs. At first it was just only a small spot, and somehow with little time in just a week, it grew to both of my upper thighs, even a try on the inside of my ankles. Though the wounds may not be deep, there's many new with each day, that sting in a way that feels unfamiliar yet familiar. It's hard to stop doing it now. Even more with upcoming important stuff like exams, events and applying for schools, which all stress me out so much. I mean I'm 15, and I feel like such a loser for doing this as a way to get some sort of relief. It feels like I don't even qualify to do this, since I have a pretty normal life, except for a father, who is absent most times for work. It feels as if I'm mocking others who do it, even if I might not be, especially with one of my friends having done this sort of stuff for so long with family problems and all. It doesn't help that I feel more guilty when thinking of this friend actually having struggles and like almost a reason to do it, though that feels rude and offensive to say.

I feel so stupid for this to the point I had to get this out to somewhere. Even worse is that the trunks I was planning on using on top of my swimsuit for summer, are in fact, too short to cover the evidence up well. I dread the day I have to get exposed to this friend or anyone close to me. I should now probably go and prepare more for my math exam then.

I don’t even know how to feel about my feelings. I’ve been through so much, both now and in the past, that I can’t even understand how I feel anymore. I can’t express my feelings to anyone because when I try to express them to my mother, she sounds like she doesn’t care. So what do I do when I can’t even talk to my mom?

I keep everything inside, and when it becomes too much, I cry it out where no one will know, where no one will hear, where no one will see.

Pathetic, isn’t it? Well, that’s how I feel most of the time—pathetic.

I sit and wonder why I feel this way, why I have these feelings. A feeling where I feel empty, lost, and confused.

I don’t want to feel this way, but when I think about it, I prefer feeling numb because it protects me from disappointment. My whole life, I’ve felt like a disappointment—especially to someone I thought I could tell everything to. But now my heart aches because I can’t even talk to that person about what’s on my mind. My heart aches that whenever something is bothering me, I can’t express it because that one person I trusted thinks I’m just looking for attention.

“Attention.” You know, I never once thought about doing all of this just for attention. Well, what can I say?

Most of the time, I feel like I’m suffocating myself, as if I’m underwater and can’t breathe or get up. I can’t ask for help. Just like when my friend asks me what’s wrong, I can’t even form a word or sentence. It’s like I’m saying “what’s wrong,” but my lips aren’t moving.

You know what’s sad? Everyone I talk to about my problems says, “Talk to me” or “I’m always here.” But then they say they can relate to my trauma, even though I’ve been experiencing it for years.

If I told my mother everything I’ve been going through, she wouldn’t think twice before shouting at me, saying I’m looking for attention and pity. She is the reason I keep everything to myself, why I’m sad—no, not sad—numb. Numb is how she makes me feel most of the time, every second, every minute, every hour.

She makes me feel like I’m a burden to her. What I don’t understand is: if I’m such a burden, then why keep me? Why make me feel this way all the time?

Every time I think about all the pain she has caused me, I don’t even feel like crying. I just feel numb. I can’t even express my feelings to anybody anymore. I can’t even shed tears because I’m so numb.

“I used to float, but now I just fall down. I used to know, but now I’m not sure now...”

I don’t like this feeling I’ve been experiencing lately. I feel distant from my family and friends. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even exist in this world. I feel isolated from everyone.

Just a simple “Are you okay?” or “How are you?” can break the wall I’ve built to protect myself from crying, from looking weak, from showing that I’m in pain and suffering. So I build my wall again, brick by brick, over and over again. And there is no “until”—I will always have to build the wall.

What do I do now? How do I move on when the memories of my trauma still exist in my head, in my brain? It’s locked in a cage, like monsters waiting to come out and attack me, to make me fall back down, to make me give up.

This is why I keep everything to myself. Because once those monsters are free, and I talk about them, who will be there in the night when I’m alone with them? Who will support me? My friends say I should talk to them, but there’s only so much I can do.

Who will comfort me if I have another anxiety attack? That’s how I feel.

I feel like I use to be such a creative writer my imagination was on 100 then adult life happened and just like they say math if I don’t keep up with it you will end up loosing your mojo I feel like lost my imagination groove If that makes sense. I was more into fantasy fiction. Now I’m like stuck like unable to get a short story out I’m a teacher schools out I was figuring getting a part time giving myself some short story pts to r get back into writing everyday but now that I’m sitting in front of the computer drawing blanks . And if something does come out it sounds like every other Netflix movie I do occasionally write thrillers but it’s just not working. Not having any fresh ideas how do I break this cycle maybe some exercises. Anyone else dealt with writers block

hi! I'm Cara.

So for background, I have diagnosed minor depression and major anxiety, I have grades A's and B's, I have a 'good' relationship with my parents, but talking to them feels like a chore, I don't like any of the hobbies i used to adore, I barely have the motivation to do my makeup and i used to be such a girlie on that stuff. i'm an atheist, very pessimistic, and bisexual.

here's where my issue starts. when i communicated my suicidal tendencies to my parents, my mom just said it was a 'rough patch' and had the therapist/psychiatrist increase my Lexapro dosage(antidepressant). i think the root of my suicidal tendencies come from one of these few things. First, I feel in the middle about thinking i'm suicidal because i have an 'ok' life knowing damn well other people have it worse. Second, knowing i have many friends but i'm never the first pick. they aren't intentionally leaving me out, it's just i know im not their priority. it makes me feel so guilty knowing i have no reason to be mad they have their own life. Third, talking and texting people feels like a chore. When I talk to people, it feels like i'm just waiting for them to shut up so i can go back on my phone. even if im genuinely interested in what they're saying, i get bored so fast. i feel like such an asshole. thing is, people perceive me as a bright, loud, sometimes annoying person. but sometimes i wish i knew how'd they'd feel if i just.. stopped showing up.

if you made it this far, my heart goes out to all of you, and if you're lazy asf like me, just vote in the poll. Goodnight!(or good morning.) btw im going to translate the whole thing to spanish for the bilingual people.

¡Hola! Soy Cara.

Para ponerlos en contexto: tengo un diagnóstico de depresión leve y ansiedad severa; saco calificaciones de A y B; tengo una relación "buena" con mis padres, pero hablar con ellos se siente como una obligación; ya no disfruto ninguno de los pasatiempos que antes adoraba; y apenas tengo la motivación para maquillarme, a pesar de que solía ser muy coqueta y femenina con esas cosas. Soy atea, muy pesimista y bisexual.

Aquí es donde comienza mi problema. Cuando les comuniqué a mis padres mis tendencias suicidas, mi mamá simplemente dijo que era una "mala racha" e hizo que el terapeuta o psiquiatra me aumentara la dosis de Lexapro (un antidepresivo). Creo que la raíz de mis tendencias suicidas proviene de una de estas pocas cosas. Primero, me siento ambivalente respecto a mis pensamientos suicidas, ya que tengo una vida "decente" y sé perfectamente que hay otras personas que lo pasan mucho peor. Segundo, saber que tengo muchos amigos, pero que nunca soy su primera opción. No es que me excluyan intencionalmente; simplemente sé que no soy su prioridad. Me hace sentir muy culpable saber que no tengo motivos para enojarme, pues ellos tienen su propia vida. Tercero, hablar con la gente —ya sea en persona o por mensajes de texto— se siente como una carga. Cuando hablo con alguien, siento como si solo estuviera esperando a que se callen para poder volver a mirar mi teléfono. Incluso si estoy genuinamente interesada en lo que dicen, me aburro rapidísimo. Me siento como una auténtica imbécil. La cuestión es que la gente me percibe como una persona alegre, extrovertida y, a veces, un poco molesta. Pero, en ocasiones, desearía saber qué sentirían ellos si yo simplemente... dejara de aparecer.

It’s not love, nor a situationship, nor even friendship. It’s just two strangers who met one night. He started to open up to her comfortably, like he never had before. They are also neighbors, but on different floors.

The issue here is that he opened up to a woman who barely knows herself. She has zero self-confidence, overthinks everything, feels numb, and what’s worse, she is an attention seeker.

They almost had the same childhood trauma. She felt bad that he went through all that at such a young age. Exactly two weeks passed, filled with the best memories together, until he asked her for the third time to come to his room just for coffee. She accepted only because he asked in a way that made her feel like she was being questioned: “Why don’t you trust me?”

In his room, he kept assuring her that she was comfortable by asking and offering tea and snacks. It started with her crying when he told her why he has a missing finger and that he had tried to kill himself, but thankfully only lost his finger. Here, she started to tear up, trying to hide it, but when he saw it, he tried to calm her down and hugged her. She didn’t push away; she hugged him too.

When she was fully calm, she said, “We shouldn’t touch.” Then he replied, “I didn’t know what to do when I saw you like that.”

On other nights, she showed him her gloves and jokingly said, “We can hold hands with gloves on.” Then they were playing with the wheelchair like kids. He hugged her, and she didn’t pull away but hugged him more. He asked her, “Do you want to take off your gloves?” She said okay. On other nights, he asked how her hair looked and said he wanted to see it. She said she wanted to show him her hair but couldn’t (she is hijabi), but she did take it off.

On other nights, they started to hug in silence for hours and sleep together (clothed). All of that happened within one month.

Then one night, at the end of the month, she said, “Could we go back to being friends?” She wanted to argue, but he just said okay. Then he offered her to sit while he went aside. She said, “I want to leave,” and she left.

Here is what she told him exactly that night:

“I want to be friends like we used to be before. I know you like to talk comfortably alone, but we could meet in any garden outside and talk. I just don’t like where our friendship is going, and I know it’s against my religion. You know that was never me.”

He said, “I understand, and you are right. Actually, I am sorry that I hurt you. I know you are a good girl, and I pushed you to come here. And by the way, I spread Islam. See the Quran you gave me; I gave it to a friend. As you know, I don’t read English; I read it in my language.”

Then he walked to the edge of his bed (beside the window) to smoke and moved the chair toward her. “Sit,” he said. She replied, “I’m going to leave.” “Okay,” he replied.

Two days passed in silence. She asked him what was going on with their friendship.

He said, “You wanted that.”

She replied, “I said friends, not strangers.”

He said, “This is better for you. I don’t want to hurt you again, and I actually changed because every word you said was right. You are going to be okay.”

She said, “I didn’t mean to break the friendship. How can we fix it?”

He kept repeating his words, and she kept asking. In the end, he said, “Do you really want it to be fixed?”

She said yes.

He said, “Come.”

She came. They repeated the same conversation. Then he asked her, “Can we hug for the last time?” She said yes without hesitation. Then they slept together like before. He said, “This is going to be our last night.”

Then she left.

Two weeks of silence passed, then they met by coincidence. “How are you?” he asked.

“I’m okay. I missed how we were before,” she said.

“I know, I missed it too, but that’s good for you. You will be fine, don’t worry,” he said.

A week later, she texted him “hello” but deleted the chat, not realizing the message itself wasn’t deleted. The next night, he replied “hello.” She forgot she had even texted him, so the conversation went: hi, hi, hi. Then she said, “Man, say something other than hi.”

“Wanna come?” he asked.

She replied, “Really or a joke?”

“For only one hour,” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

They met, but that night was different from any other night.

She told him she started vaping. He told her not to, that it’s bad. He said he started to have chest cramps from vaping and advised her to stop. Then they started hugging. For the first time, they had sex. He kept asking if she was comfortable. They finished, and she left.

During those two weeks, she started to look for a therapist so she could understand herself and learn how to express her emotions, but that needed time. She went for a faster solution and vaped for the first time, although she knew she wasn’t allowed to, but she bought one anyway.

As time passed, her body started to give her warning signs due to the vape. She has anemia, so she simply threw the vape away.

A week passed. He texted her, “Are you asleep?”

“Trying to,” she said.

He asked her to come, but she said they could meet outside (she knew he would say no). He replied, “You know I just came back home, it’s okay, just forget it.”

“Okay, night then,” she replied.

The next day, she texted him, and they met. That night was short; they just kept staring at each other, then hugged. She told him she was on her period and that’s why she looked tired. They kept hugging until he fell asleep on her shoulder. She woke him up, told him to go to bed, and said she would leave. She left.

A couple of hours later, he posted a story of a depressed man. She commented, “Man, this photo says a lot.”

He replied, “I am okay.”

She replied, “You know I’m around whenever you need, even if it’s just sitting in silence.”

She feels bad for him, as she keeps telling herself that he is using her, but she isn’t sure yet whether he is honest with her or playing.

They both aren’t ready for marriage, and they don’t want to be a couple. Also, neither has feelings for the other.

I have a skin picking disorder where I generally tend to pick on my lips often till they’re bloody and raw. It’s an habit I have since I can remember. It must’ve started when I was around two to three years old. I am now 17. With that it’s deeply ingrained within me and I am quite used to it. I often do it when I am bored, sitting still, stressed, need to concentrate or nervous. I have ADHD and with that it’s often also a way to stimulate myself, especially during school. I try to break the habit but it’s quite difficult with me either not noticing it when I do or the compulsion to do it being too strong.

Well now to what happened. On the weekend I was on a trip with my father. Apparently in the evening when we came back my lips looked pretty bloody and my mother asked why I picked on them so much again. I told her it’s mostly because I was bored in the car. It was because of that and I also studied, meaning I didn’t really noticed it while I was concentrating on my work. My father now told me that my mother gave him on Monday an entire speech about how it’s bad and that it was during the trip I was with him on. But generally it isn’t his fault. I know it’s mine. It’s my habit. It’s also a daily habit meaning he didn’t make me fall back into it or anything. He now asked me to try and stop but the problem is it isn’t that easy for me. I do want to but it’s difficult. I am not sure what do. I am also not sure whether I should ask my mother about why she decided to complain to my father about it when he didn’t actually have to do anything with it.

So life has been going pretty well actually. I've been getting my grades up so I'll be able to graduate real soon, finally booking an appointment with a doctor so I can talk about therapy and hrt trans stuff. Already getting my glasses soon and I'll definitely look cool with them. I've been making jokes and my sister and mom laugh at them again, idk why I'm good at jokes again, nothing really changed except for like just doing more positive affirmations and manifestation stuff. I'm glad that part of me is back tho.

Ngl I need to change my hair but my sister wants me to wait it out, I've just been wearing a bandana thing which looks cool but like it's hot asf outside. I still haven't tried to make friends or a boyfriend, it's easy to do online but like idk, maybe I'm lazy. I low-key wouldn't mind going to appointments on my own, my mom kinda let me and I was fine, but I felt...idk like overdressed, didn't feel like an npc. The doctors didn't really speak too much directly too me or seem to take me too seriously, I think it's because I look childish and still have a kid voice, my mom points it out and also my style. It's nothing wild, I like alternative baggy clothes and I still like them. I wished I sounded more mature, I've been trying pronounce things differently or change my voice, making it deeper... doesn't really help. The reason I got insecure about my voice is because I recorded for a school project and I sounded nerdy or like something was wrong with me like I have some kind of vocal problem. I told my sister about it and she was like "you don't need to change it, you just need to accept it for the rest of your life" she's low-key wise.

I do wonder if I should take hrt, that would make me love life but my parents are homophobic and transphobic so like I'm scared. Idk when or how to come out, my plan was just to transition and then come home but...that seems like a bad idea as my parents are very much in my life so I feel like we would need to address the elephant in the room. I'm going from girl to guy so it would be noticable. If I have the opportunity to take hrt, should I?

My parents would have a bit of a crazy reaction but idk how crazy. My mom would just think it's because of trauma and be sweet or try to change me but my dad? That's some scary stuff, he's like low-key crazy, anger issues, hulk smashing everything, and would be very angry. When a queer family member lived here, he referred to her as the devil in his house. I'm lowkey already getting that tho because I said I have different beliefs plus being into rock/metal music and horror games so I have dark posters and stuff that he thinks is demonic. My room is pretty colorful tho.

Any advice is appreciated and I really hope you have a good day 🖤🩷 always be gentle to yourself, what's the point in hating yourself during the journey if you're going to the same destination regardless. <3

So basically my mom tells literally every single person in my family (literally all) everything about me as ones mom does.

It always bothered me especially when it's someone private that I trusted to tell her and only her

Right now I am applying to different colleges and I told her (begged her) not to tell anyone about what I am applying to or whatever because the whole family pesters me about it and they get their hopes up really high and I am scared of disappointing them.

The first time I applied to a college she told everyone so I talked with her and explained why I didn't want her telling anybody and she apologized and said she wouldn't do it again.

This cycle happened about 3 times again until I finally broke down and started crying and telling to please not tell anyone and that it stresses me out, that time when I cried she ignored it like nothing even happened and it made me more upset but I kept it to myself.

Fast forward to now she did it again, I got really mad and upset I didn't say anything and just went to the bathroom to cry and collect myself.

now SHE is upset with me saying that the way I acted was disrespectful and dad took her side.

I feel so upset rn and have no one to talk to about this.

I really love my mom but this has always been an issue between us as I am a very private person and when she does this it makes me lose trust in her.

I don't know why her telling people about me upsets me SO MUCH but it does and I just wish she respected that

I'll try and make it up to her later because I can't sleep if she's upset with me

Sorry if this didn't make much sense English isn't my first language :/

So, I've been doing a lot of introspection lately and have come to question what my current relationship situation is all about. I mean, am I really in a polyamorous relationship, or is it just some sort of undefined connection, morphing into something I can't quite put my finger on?! There’s this sense of freedom I had anticipated when I first thought about it, dealing with multiple partners who all know about each other, yet I often find myself puzzled about how to manage everything without letting my emotions get the best of me. Ironically, the relationship dynamics are supposed to offer choices without the need for secretive affairs or guilt-coated whispers typical in monogamy, right?! Yet here I am, floundering a bit in understanding whether everyone involved shares the same understanding of what it means to navigate such a bond. It sometimes becomes a question of emotional regulation... how do I balance attention and affection for multiple partners harmoniously while setting boundaries and ensuring everyone feels secure and acknowledged?

And honestly, adding the layer of being pansexual makes things no less intricate!!! Does that mean having a wider array of attractions complicates things or makes them more enlightening? In trying to embrace the freedom to love beyond traditional societal constraints, I still find myself questioning if I'm capable of managing the emotional complexity that comes with these labels. I’ve always prided myself on being open-minded when it comes to love!... allowing feelings to develop naturally. However, I can’t help but feel a bit like a juggler who's unsure how many pins they can keep in the air before chaos ensues!!! Has anyone else experienced this duality of yearning for a connection that accepts love in its diverse forms, yet grappling with the reality of how to sustainably nurture each one without falling into a tangled web of miscommunication or unintentional negligence? Maybe it is about transparent communication, trust, and mutual respect, but what if all parties speak different love languages?! Regardless, I’m on a quest to figure this puzzle out... one interaction, one emotion, one day at a time.

So yes ive been falling in the rabbit hole and I’ve come to realize that there’s a lot more there than that meets the eye. For example let’s just take a simple theory like the P. Diddy situation how they found tunnels to Michael Jackson’s house tunnels to TI‘s house tunnels to God knows where all these underground tunnels then they found cages and all this Bill Clinton and Hillary Clinton having so many connections to you know, orphanages, and children that have been taken from their families that haven’t been fed well refugees and then you see orders of like 60,000 pizzas ordered to the White House from Obama through email messages that were leaked and you know how Pizza is like the pedophiles sign for boys or I don’t know if it’s a pedophiles sign for girls but I know like there’s signs and stuff then there’s that whole Pizza gate thing and stuff like that there’s pizza gate and they tortured these kids for adrenichrome and all of that I wanna hear you guys theories about all of this like is this like really something we’re living in like REPTILIANS? They’re talking about these ancient reptile aliens that have been among us for eons and then you get these tablets that come out the admiral tablets like they’re normalizing all of this so that if out of nowhere, these things were to just show up it would be normalized like it’s weird what’s going on and it’s kind of scary like all of this stuff has to add up to something you know and I don’t want. I know this sounds crazy. I don’t want any of you guys to think I’m crazy like this is just you know midnight thought but like is there anyone else on here that can like? Tell me like what the fuck they’re thinking about all this

celebrities wearing masks like I was watching some 80s 70s 90s movies like some of these actresses are not aging and I don’t know if they’re cloning them but there’s something going on y’all and I want to hear what you guys have to say

I've been feeling this way for months, more or less since i entered this new phase of my life (high school), and to be honest, I thought it would be pretty much the same as previous years. For the past year or two, ive felt lonely. I have friends and some classmates to talk to, but friends i can talk to about this? i don't have any, and my best friend is going through a tough time right now so im not one of her priorities.

Let's get to the point. I've taken these classes after regular school hours as part of a volunteer program—sometimes in class and sometimes outside of school—but that's pretty rare, so it's usually just at school. I’ve had these friends—I’m going to use different names that are almost the same: Amy and Mila. Amy has been my friend since I was 12, and we were paired up for middle school. I met Mila in 7th grade, and at that time I was going through a lot: stress, changes, the end of important friendships, and I was starting to feel lonely.

I started relying heavily on Amy and Mila; they were the only refuge I had, so when I had a little problem with my friend (I’ll change her name too) Sarah, I leaned on Amy way too much. I knew Amy had this friend I personally didn’t get along with—we were just classmates, but we couldn’t find anything in common to get along as friends the way she and Amy did.

I made up with Sarah when we moved up to 8th grade, but by then I was already pretty dependent on Amy. I couldn’t go anywhere she wasn’t, and when we were in groups or paired up, I’d get really anxious because I didn’t know if Amy would pick me or her other friends. It was awkward being in a group with her friends because, aside from not getting along with Amy’s best friend, I also had to be with (again, name changed) Nicholas, who had liked me and was my best friend, but because of a silly message, we drifted apart.

Sarah wanted me as her friend, and I felt the same way; we were close when Amy wasn't around. All that changed when we moved up to 9th grade (which is where I am now), and things changed drastically.

I was still me, and I think that’s the problem: I don’t have the same tastes as most of my classmates. I isolated myself quite a bit after I stopped hanging out with my old group of friends, and I had almost nothing in common with the people around me, so when they switched us up, I saw it in a way I didn’t want to see it.

In this class, after school, I ended up with Amy and Mila. Amy was still pretty much herself, a little change in her hair and all that, and Mila was still Mila. I thought I’d feel comfortable, but it was the exact opposite, and I immediately noticed how the two of them, having been together since the start of 9th grade, had become even closer. I wanted to be indifferent about it, but I can’t anymore because I feel alone in my class, and feeling like they’re leaving me out is even worse. They used to be my refuge from everything that was happening to me, and now I can’t be with them without feeling like an intruder, it’s horrible and awful. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this, and neither of them picks me when they form groups. I know it’s not their fault, but I feel terrible.

so a little update. I just found out that the best friend works only a few minutes away from me and he got this job after I moved out and he has to drive probably 30 minutes to work from where he lives. and another weird thing about it is that he has to drive directly past my neighborhood to get to work and I'm wondering if he did this on purpose or it's just some really weird coincidence beings as he had a bunch of other places he could have worked at closer to his house. this is probably the farthest Dollar tree he can work at compared to the many that are directly next to his house and so I'm wondering what I should do to prevent him from coming to the house. I'm scared that he's going to come to the house and do something once I report him and I don't know if he got this job as a way to get to me or what. what is your guys's best advice on what to do? I do have cameras outside and I'm going to check them to see if he's driven past my house because he does know where I live

just been wondering, why do i feel like my boyfriend doesn't love me???? i mean, he used to be so into everything we did together, y'know? now, it's like, all he does is zone out or scroll through his phone whenever we hang. 🤔 i might be overthinking, but this sudden distance is really messing with my head. was it something i said or did?? or is he just into someone else????

sometimes i think back to when we first started dating. those were the days!!! we'd talk for hours!!! laugh at the dumbest things!!! and just vibe like crazy!!!!! but now it seems like there's this invisible wall between us, and it's thick as hell. 🤷‍♀️ he used to be so attentive, but these days, trying to get him to open up is like pulling teeth. do guys just naturally go through this weird phase, or is it more serious than that????

and what's with the mixed signals??? one minute he's showering me with affection, and the next he's a ghost. makes me wonder if he's really that into me, or if he's just playing games to keep things interesting. 😒 can't help but think that maybe i'm just not enough for him. am i just being paranoid or does anyone else feel the vibe shift as intense as i do???? can't be the only one, right??

anyway, i've tried talking to him about it, but it always ends the same way. he brushes it off like i'm just seeing things, or worse, he gets defensive. is it wrong to want some reassurance every now and then???? it's not like i'm asking for the world, just a little bit of effort, you know?? feels like i'm the only one trying to make this work, and that's just, ugh, frustrating. 😤 i'm really at a loss here, like, what should i even do next????

who knows, maybe i'm overanalyzing the whole thing. maybe this is just a phase or something. but if he's really not feeling it anymore, then what's the point???? just want things back to how they were before all this crap started!!!! things should be simple, like, why complicate them?? bottom line is, if it doesn't improve, we might just be over. and that's just brutal to think about. so, what do you reckon??? am i being dramatic???? or is it time to face the music and move on???? 😕