Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 2

Sooo i've been doing an art project, a video, for a mini movie-contest. For context It's supposed to be about the history of our lands and town. i'm doing almost everything from scratch, but i'm not very good at It tbh. I've been working on It a lot lately, so far i have the first 20 seconds done and other bits and pieces (🥲) but It's kind of crap. I put a lot of effort into It, but I still kind of hate how It looks. And now i have mixed feelings. I'm not sure If i should continue, just BC it matters a lot to me, or If i should just give up. Like idk if It's worth it.

growing up in this neighborhood, I've always seen families yelling at each other. it's like a daily routine here. every morning and evening, their harsh words fill the air. it gets to a point where I just put on my headphones and try to drown them out. have you ever wondered why some people constantly argue? sometimes I think they don't even remember what started the debate. it's just their way of communicating, which baffles me.

life here isn't easy, and living in a poor area of California doesn't offer many opportunities. most families are struggling, working multiple jobs, and trying to make ends meet. but still, the constant bickering seems unnecessary. is all that yelling really helping anyone feel better at the end of the day? 🤷‍♂️ sometimes I feel like I might not understand their situation entirely, but does that really justify turning every conversation into a shouting match?

i have dreams of getting out of here and finding a better life. the yelling gets to me, and I wish to live in a place where people talk to each other with kindness and understanding. wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up to laughter instead of arguments? i'm hopeful that one day, I'll be in a community that cherishes peace and supports one another. it feels like a distant dream now, but I believe it's possible.

for now, I have to learn to cope with my surroundings and stay positive. living here teaches me patience and resilience, although the loud disputes can be discouraging. it's not always easy to stay optimistic when the world around you seems so chaotic; but I'm determined to move forward, stay focused, and someday make my escape to a quieter life. who knows, maybe my story will inspire others to find their peace, too.

So, I've always been pretty sure in myself. I always believed that I knew myself well and I have always been sure in my personality. I don't know if this is just me overthinking, but I am turning 17 soon and I have realized that I don't really know if there is much depth to my personality. I have done a lot of growing in recent years, and I am far different know from the person I used to be. which is to be expected as a kid growing up. the only issue is that know I don't really know who I am. I know what I like, and don't like, but that's about it. sometimes I wonder if I am emulating my personality from certain aesthetics that I like. most of it feels like me, but sometimes I wonder if I am trying to hard to fit into one box, and other times I feel like I need to commit to one group so that I don't feel like an outsider. but my biggest issue is that I really don't know myself. and I am deeply afraid of having a shallow personality. I wonder if thats why I have a tough time making friends, or if thats why some of my friends will forget about me or ignore me. I realize that I am probably thinking into this too much, but I really am afraid of having a weak personality. does anyone have any advice for how to fix this and become a more interesting person? or for how to become more assured in myself? I really don't know why this has been bugging me so much. I think its worse because I used to be so self assured and know that I am getting older I am realizing that there are things about me that people don't like and it is just a lot to take in. anyway, thanks for being here for my rant

I’m so sorry you had to have me. I’m sorry I’m not any better. If I could walk out a door and it would mean that your life would be free of me, I would do it. I’m sorry I’m such a lazy kid. I can’t help it, mommy. Your daughter is so so tired. I’m pretty sure I have depression, but I can never get diagnosed. I’m sorry mommy. I’m such a rebel. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for being a burden. I’m sorry I never follow what you say. Sorry for staring at you in a mean way. Sorry for ever being born and ruining your teenage years. You never deserved that. You deserve your freedom. Now, I’m sorry if one day I ever decide that I want to go and disappear for forever. I don’t see a future for myself, mommy. It’ll just be my siblings with you along the way, and if you ever cry on the day that I die, I’m sorry for breaking your heart.

My whole childhood(until 10 years old) I spent in the biggest room of our little house, alone and surrounded only by plushies and markers. Dad was always away for work. Mom was busy with her own job. I was left alone. No one to talk to, no one to play with, and no one to hug but myself. At first it may seem like they didn't care at all, but no, my parents are amazing people, they were just... busy.

(And yes, I know most people here would much prefer some sort of cheating drama but this is a venting app okay? also sorry if I make any writing mistakes english isn't my first language)

Two years later Im sitting in my room, now living in an apartment, reading smut after smut in an attempt to feel any kind of connection. school is horrible, each day feels like routine and my only way out is doomscrolling and spacing out with music on full volume in my headphones, pretending life is okay. I feel this void inside me, this sickening urge to seek out somebody, anybody who would just hold me for hours on end. I long for an embrace and yet I am too scared to ask for it straight up because I am not used to speaking. That's where the second thing comes in — my speach. J constantly stutter, I struggle with expressing my opinions, I have sudden waves of talking whenever I get the chance, and I will never be able to speak out about the void inside me. That moves on to the next thing:I'm afraid of telling th8s to my parents. Why? Well, dad has his own trauma and he shows it by joking about spanking me with a belt, by saying "growing up strong can only happen if you have been hurt in childhood" and it drives me nuts. Also, my mom is all about being all supportive and modern, but the whole "always calm down first" thing? And worst of all, drum roll please, therapy is shamed in our country! Another thing I want to mention is praise — I never got much praise beyond my drawing skills and my ambition for learning english. So now, whenever I get complimented, I always reask to make sure it's not a joke, that they mean it, and is a desperate attempt to get more praise. Because toys can't tell me of I'm good at something or not.

Alright, I think that's enough. Thank you for being here, and thank you for listening!

(https://youtu.be/bCoMKguyo7w?si=4WpOGA-Err0zJXIF)

Every year on my birthday, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of well-meaning chaos. As an autistic person, fully processing and reacting to family and friends sending me video messages with birthday wishes often feels like trying to walk through a funhouse distortion mirror room. Their genuine affection is clear, and for that, I am perpetually grateful, yet the pressure to deliver an adequate response in return is exceptionally daunting. In receiving a video message or even a traditional card, I often wonder, what’s the best way to thank these wonderful people who took time out of their day to make mine special? Should I simply reply with a text or perhaps even attempt my own video message back? I've tried various methods over the years, but somehow I always feel that my responses fall short in expressing the depth of my gratitude. My family, bless their hearts, are always enthusiastic, and their messages burst with joy and colorful confetti of random anecdotes and jokes, but deciphering these signals and responding with matching enthusiasm proves challenging, like solving a puzzle with a few missing pieces.

Reflecting on my personal anecdotes, I recall the time my cousin orchestrated an entire virtual birthday party, complete with coordinated games and a delightful slideshow of childhood photos. While I was deeply touched, I found myself flustered in the aftermath, unsure of how to respond appropriately. I thanked them, of course, but did my gratitude seem genuine, expressed solely through typed words and a scattering of emojis? In these moments, I consider whether my difficulty in conveying my feelings might be unique, or if others, regardless of circumstance, share this subtle plight. Despite my responses often feeling understated compared to the warmth I receive, I am hopeful that my family feels appreciated. This leads me to believe that genuine gratitude, though complex in expression, need not be extravagant. A heartfelt "thank you" can indeed speak volumes when delivered sincerely. Might there be a perfect balance between expressing gratitude and maintaining my own comfort? I continue to seek it, steering through the maze of social conventions, with each birthday providing another opportunity to refine my approach and, I hope, bring more serenity and authenticity to my expressions of thanks.

I can't f##king sleep as every time I try and sleep I end up having a bad dream ether about my nan or about what it feels like to die or to be dieing myself and the iner exsprances and the external exsprances that happen to you when you are dieing and I wake up from these dreams and end up having a panic attack.

please tell me it gets easier over time because I don't know how much longer I can put up with this for.

when I'm in the dreams it also feels like I'm being strangled by someone and I can't breathe.

I've been mulling over something for quite some time, and I'd love to get some perspective. There's this guy at university, let's call him Alex, who I can't help but feel drawn to. We have several classes together, and over time, I've noticed subtle signs that he might be interested in me too. You know, those fleeting glances across the lecture hall, the lingering smiles, and the undeniable chemistry during group discussions. Yet, despite all these suggestive signals, he hasn't taken the leap to ask me out. And it leaves me in a swirl of confusion and second-guessing.

Maybe I'm reading too much into things, but the way we interact is hard to ignore. For instance, there's this palpable energy when we talk – a kind of intensity that's not usual for just friends or acquaintances. We engage in deep conversations about our courses, dissecting the nuances in the curriculum and sharing our ambitions. It's not uncommon for us to exchange study notes, offering insights and perspectives that strengthen our mutual understanding. He's attentive, remembering small details I mention in passing, which only adds to my contemplation of his intentions. But then I wonder, why hasn't he asked me out if he feels the same?

One possibility that crosses my mind is that maybe he values our academic camaraderie too much to risk it by diving into a romantic relationship. There's always that fear of potentially altering the dynamics if things don't work out, right? It could be that he's prioritizing his studies, perhaps overwhelmed with the workload and conscious of not allowing personal matters to interfere with his progress. University life is demanding, with assignments, exams, and the pressure to maintain grades continually looming. Perhaps he feels that introducing romance would only complicate things.

There’s also the chance that he might be shy or uncertain about my feelings. Could it be that he’s just as insecure as I am? It's easy to misinterpret signals or doubt one's own perceptions, especially when emotions are involved. Social dynamics are complex, often requiring immense courage to navigate, particularly in a setting as public and scrutinizing as a university. I often ask myself if he is hesitant due to previous experiences or even advice he's received from friends, urging caution and patience. It makes me question whether making a move myself might alter his perspective, but societal norms often trap me in the conventional expectation that he should be the one to take the first step.

Of course, there's the possibility that I'm mistaken entirely, that I could be misreading his kindness and genuine nature for something more. This self-doubt seems to simmer beneath the surface, fostering a myriad of restless thoughts. Could it be that he's simply not interested, and I'm clinging to a narrative that isn't there? I've wrestled with this uncertainty for weeks now, hoping for a clear sign or moment that might offer resolution. Yet, the ambiguity remains, leaving me pondering and questioning how to navigate this realm of unspoken emotions. Can anybody relate to this predicament?

I just need to rant because my lovely grandmother decided to take it into her own damn hands clean my room and throw away the shoebox I use to prop up my laptop proceeded to ask me you use that thing and yes I do use a shoebox as a laptop holder because I can not afford a real one and its easy and cheap which she is all about being cheap. Leave my fucking room alone and you wont have to fish through garbage for something you knew I used because whenever she goes up here to my room she sees me using it. I came home from work for context to my whole room being rearranged and things thrown away that she knows I use.

Basically, i liked this guy ever since middle school and he recently asked me out! Good right? NO! I have this problem where when someone likes me back i try to find things that are bad about them, like hes not even that cute nor is he unique. And when we do break up, i end up feeling sad bcz i really liked the person but i also feel relieved?? I DONT KNOW WHATS GOING ON HELP ME PLESS

Now we've had my Nan's funeral I've gone from feeling numb and depressed to feeling

every think all at one and crying and not being able to each any of my favorite TV shows.

dose it ever get better

I'm in a bit of a bind here, fellas. My wife has just entered the whirlwind stage of menopause, and I'm standing like a deer caught in headlights. I mean, we've been through life's ups and downs together, but this one caught me off guard. It's like a roller coaster, and I’ve come to the stark realization that I don’t have a clue about how to be of any real help. I want to be there for her, but all I seem to do is put my foot in my mouth. I read somewhere that patience is key, but how much patience is enough? Is there some kind of magical guidebook for husbands out there? Trust me, I’m all ears if anyone cares to share it. This said, the mood swings are no joke. It feels like one minute we're reminiscing about old times, and the next, I'm in the doghouse for God knows what. Not to be insensitive, but even dogs need a break. I just want to wave a flag that says, "I'm trying, okay?" It's frustrating to be stuck in this losing battle where you’re trying to help, but everything you do just seems to miss the mark. “Persistance is key,” they say, but what does that even mean when you’re walking on eggshells?

In my humble opinion, someone should really write a “Menopause for Dummies” book with a special section just for us poor husbands trapped in this new reality. I keep hearing suggestions like "be understanding" and "just listen," but sometimes I wonder, are those just words thrown around, or do they actually mean something deeper? After all, you can’t exactly listen when the house feels like it's under siege. It's like I’m halfway through a Netflix series called "Midlife Chaos," and there’s no option to skip the episodes. Am I being overly dramatic? Perhaps. But surely, others in my shoes are feeling a similar kind of, let's say, discomfort. At 53, I thought I'd encountered most of life's surprises, but menopause is a whole new beast. If there’s a cheat code out there, I would be forever grateful. And hey, what does “be the rock” even mean when I’m feeling like a pebble myself? Maybe I’m just ranting into the void here, or perhaps someone out there can offer a lifeline. So, to my fellow clueless husbands: how are you holding up, and what’s working (if anything)? 🤔

I never thought i would be the person writing something like this, but here i am, typing late at night because sleep keeps avoiding me!! My wife cheated on me, and saying that sentence still feels unreal!! We have been together for eleven years, married for seven, and most days were normal, boring even, but safe!! I found out by accident, not by snooping like in bad movies, but because she left her email open on our shared laptop!! I wasn’t even looking for anything, just trying to pay a bill, and there it was, a thread that felt like it was screaming at me!! I remember my hands shaking, my chest tight, and this strange calm that followed, like my brain shut off to protect me!! She admitted it when i asked, didn’t deny it, didn’t cry much either, which hurt in a different way!! I keep replaying that moment, wondering if i missed signs, if i was too distant, too quiet, too predictable?? Maybe i was boring, maybe i stopped trying, or maybe it really had nothing to do with me at all?? People say cheating is a choice, and i believe that, but it still doesn’t stop the self doubt!!

Since then, everything feels slightly off, like living in a house where the walls moved an inch overnight!! We are trying to talk, slowly, politely, like two coworkers afraid of saying the wrong thing!! Some days she is kind and patient, other days she seems tired of my sadness, and i don’t fully blame her!! I find myself remembering small moments from our past, dumb jokes, road trips, the way she used to fall asleep during movies, and i wonder which parts were real and which were already broken!! I also think about the other person, not with anger all the time, but with curiosity, which i hate admitting!! What did they have that i didn’t?? Was it just timing?? I try to stay balanced, not painting her as a villain or myself as a saint, because life isn’t that clean!! I wasn’t perfect, i know that, i checked out emotionally sometimes, work drained me, and i stopped sharing my thoughts!! Still, cheating feels like dropping a bomb instead of knocking on the door!!

Now i’m stuck in this loop, deciding whether to stay or leave, and both options scare me!! Staying means rebuilding trust from almost nothing, and leaving means starting over in my late thirties, which feels exhausting!! Friends give advice, but everyone speaks from their own story, not mine!! Some say forgive, some say run, and i just nod because i don’t have answers!! I try to focus on basic things, eating, walking, working, but my mind drifts back every time!! I’m not looking for validation or drama, just understanding, maybe from strangers who won’t judge too fast!! Have you ever loved someone and still felt completely alone next to them?? How do you stop your thoughts from circling the same pain over and over?? If you’ve been here, what helped you breathe again!! I’m listening, even if i don’t reply right away!!

Ever feel like you're just a speck of dust in the universe, unnoticed and unimportant? like, you go through your day, and it's as if no one gives an ounce of thought about you? 🙄 let's start with my family, the people who are supposed to be my ride or die, right? wrong. they act like they care, but when was the last time any of them stopped, took a moment out of their busy lives, and actually reached out? it feels like forever and a day. instead, they're caught up in their own whirlwind of drama and issues, completely neglecting the fact that I might actually need someone to lean on. it's as if checking in on me isn't on their to-do list. and my friends... or whatever you'd call them. relationships feel so transactional these days. it's not like they give a rat's ass about what's going on with me unless there's a benefit for them in the picture.

then I start to wonder, am I the problem here? is there some kind of vibe I'm giving off that screams "keep your distance"? or am I simply expecting too much from people who are just as messed up as everyone else? it baffles me how they can continue living in their bubble, completely oblivious or indifferent to what's happening around them. maybe it's the rise of social media and digital clutter? we're so glued to our screens that meaningful connection is taking the back seat. it makes me question if empathy is becoming extinct 🙄 or am I just surrounded by people devoid of genuine human emotion?

sometimes I think about speaking up, letting them know how I feel like a ghost in my own life, but then I think... what's the point? i hate putting myself out there only to be met with an awkward "oh, i'm so sorry" before the topic changes faster than a bitcoin price. is it even worth it? it shouldn't be this hard to feel like someone actually cares, should it?? in a world where we have the capability to connect with someone on the other side of the globe in seconds, why do the people right next to me seem so far away??? i'm fed up with feeling like an afterthought, a barely-there blip on people's radar. so tell me, have you ever felt like this? do people really care, or are we all just prisoners in our own self-absorbed minds??? 🤔

So yeah, I am here because my head is kind of noisy and I don’t really know where else to put this. I have a new girlfriend now, it has been like two months, which is not super long but not nothing either, you know. She is nice, really kind, and honestly way more patient than I probably deserve. But here is the thing that keeps poking me in the brain at random times, usually late at night when I should be sleeping. I still have photos of my ex on my phone. Not printed or framed or anything dramatic, just old pics sitting there in my camera roll, mixed in with screenshots and food photos and dumb memes. I don’t even look at them on purpose, but sometimes I scroll too far back and boom, there we are, smiling like everything was fine. It makes my stomach drop a little. I am not missing her exactly, I think, but I am also not fully sure. It feels rude to my current girlfriend, even though she has no idea. I keep telling myself they are just memories, like old clothes you forgot in a drawer. But then I think, is that just an excuse to avoid doing something uncomfortable?

I try to be reasonable about it, like a normal adult, but I kind of fail at that a lot. My ex and I were together for years, and deleting those photos feels like erasing a chunk of my life, even if that chunk ended badly and with a lot of awkward silence. Some of the photos are boring, like us on a couch, but others are from trips or random good days where the sun was out and we laughed for real. I know keeping them does not mean I want her back, but it also does not feel super clean either. My new girlfriend talks about honesty a lot, and I nod and agree, and then I feel a bit fake inside. I have not lied, but I have not told the full truth either. I once tried to delete the photos, like actually started selecting them, and my finger froze like I was about to touch a hot stove. I felt silly, like why is this so hard, they are just pixels. Then I stopped and went to make a sandwich instead. Very brave of me. I keep wondering if this makes me a bad boyfriend or just a human one.

I guess what I am really stuck on is whether deleting them is for her, or for me, or just to look like a good guy on paper. I do not want to hurt anyone, I really don’t, and I am trying to be polite to everyone involved, including past me. At the same time, I don’t want to drag old stuff into something new and possibly good. Sometimes I think I should delete them as a sign that I am moving forward, like closing a door gently instead of slamming it. Other times I think it is okay to keep them tucked away, not because I am holding on, but because life happened and it is okay to remember it quietly. I feel unsure most days, and I second guess myself a lot, which is kind of my brand at this point. So I am asking you, random kind reader, what would you do? Would you delete the photos out of respect, or keep them and trust yourself to not live in the past? Is there a right answer here, or am I just overthinking a very normal thing like I always do?