Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 2

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?

My friend is married and has a wife and a kid. I love him platonically and I've often worried that us being close can be perceived as anything other than pure friendship. I'm a girl for context. We're both in our 20s. I've never been in a relationship, but all my friends including him are aware i'm not interested in dating. I'm also on the asexuality spectrum. Our friendshio has always been pure but things have been getting weird. I wonder if it's my fault. I'm heavily engaged in fandom things whereas he isn't. Anyway he'sknown since forever that I read fanfiction, even messed up kinds. Smut fic makes me fall asleep. Recently, he asked if there was any tropes i liked and I told him. But Idk why despite telling him im on the ace spectrum he kept relating it to me in a sexual way? It made me uncomfortable because i never imagine myself when I'm reading those. They've always been abstract to me. He's also recently been giving out hypothetical if i were single scenarios and I want to run away because it sounds like theres something more to it and I dont want any of that. I cant help but feel mad that he's being like this. I dont want to label but he's been dumping things on me emotionally that he won't dump on his wife, even though I've told him repeatedly he should.

My friend keeps telling me worrying things like sometimes he just wants to kill humself but what's the point and how he's numb and depressed. and same thing I tell him to talk to his wife or go to a therapist. It's been so draining and I'm getting so anxious. Like why are you being like this 😭

I love him dearly as a friend but how he's acting makes him seem like such a sleaze right now (i told him about things i like reading in fiction and he keep relating it to me sexually) and it's frustrating because he doesnt feel safe anymore :(

so here's the thing, I'm just trying to find a way to make some decent money while I'm still stuck in this endless cycle of textbooks, exams, and the overwhelming stress that comes with being a 22-year-old college student. you know the drill; trying to juggle studies, a social life that’s barely alive, and the never-ending pressure of student loans and bills sneaking up on me like a damn ninja in the dark. we're all just trying to get by, right? but damn, it's like a twisted game of survival out here and lately, I've stumbled upon something that's got me seriously scratching my head.

apparently, there's this whole gig where you can get paid to talk to lonely guys online. sounds sketchy as hell, doesn't it? i mean, is it really just talking, or does it quickly take a turn into a steaming pile of regret? i'm sitting here wondering if this is some kind of smooth-talking nightmare or if it's genuinely something I could do without losing my damn mind. the idea of talking to random dudes might not sound too bad at first glance. hell, i could earn some cash and maybe even forget that mountain of student loan debt breathing down my neck, but is it worth the potential weirdness? and honestly, what’s stopping some creepos from crossing the boundaries? i mean, let's get real for a second. remember that episode of 'black mirror' with the wholly unintended consequences? it doesn’t take a genius to foresee how things can go south in a heartbeat with people hidden behind screens, safe in their anonymity while i'm just trying to break free from my broke-ass situation. i'm definitely not about to turn into a digital therapist for some dudes who can't seem to function in society without playing therapist myself afterwards. no thanks. have any of you brave souls tried this? any horror stories that could save my naive ass from taking a misstep here? also, wasn't there a time when people paid for other more substantial, face-to-face things instead of just cheap talk on the internet? seems like we're living in some bizarre-ass timeline.

the whole "get-paid-to-chat" thing makes me wonder if i've somehow walked into the twilight zone, while also making me panic just a tad about the ease of virtual manipulation. sure, this could be harmless and maybe even hilariously entertaining, but i can't shake off the feeling that it could be slippery as hell. is this just a slightly more sanitized version of the classic 'sugar daddy' scenario minus the sugar? can't help but think about stories you hear in the news about people getting doxxed and dragged through the mud because they thought they could make a few bucks chatting away online. and do these guys really get anything out of it besides emptying their wallets for the promise of a meaningful connection? makes me think of Taylor Swift's "Blank Space" with its themes of failed illusions. i find it mind-numbingly bizarre that there’s a market for this at all, though i guess loneliness itself is an equally intense, bizarre thing. just seems like there should be about a thousand exclamatory signs warning people off from it. if you’ve done this gig, how the hell did it play out for you? no bs, give me the raw truth. because that's honestly what I'm craving right now. should i take the leap, or just continue to silently freak out about my impending financial doom? what's the worst that could happen, right? or does trying to justify it only mean risking what's left of my sanity and three shredded strands of dignity? and this low-key ruminating is not even out of desperation—just sheer curiosity, because a girl needs options in this financially unstable world of ours. let's not sugarcoat it, we’re all looking for that side hustle that doesn’t make us hate waking up in the morning more than we already do. if you've managed to survive or thrive in this, spill the beans.

I am 41. I am a woman. I have been married to an alcoholic for more than 15 years. I am sure he doesnt love me, and I am pretty sure it is becuase he is an alcoholic. This is not poetry. This is just facts from my kitchen table at 2 a.m. while he sleeps it off again. People like to say “love is patient” or “marriage is work.” Fine. But there is a difference between work and emotional starvation. I have done alot of waiting. Waiting for him to come home sober. Waiting for him to notice I cut my hair. Waiting for him to ask how my day was and actually listen. He can be generous, polite, even charming when he wants. He can also disappear into a bottle and leave nothing behind but noise and resentment. Therapists say, “don’t take it personally.” AA slogans say, “one day at a time.” Friends say, “he loves you in his own way.” I call bullshit. Love, real love, requires presence. He is never present. When he drinks, I am furniture. When he is sober, he is tired, ashamed, defensive. There is no room left for me. I remember once being sick with the flu, shaking, asking him to stay home. He said he would. He didn’t. He came back drunk and annoyed that I was “still miserable.” That memory sticks. It always will.

I am not saying alcoholics are monsters. I am saying alcoholism eats love first. It eats empathy, patience, and accountability. There is days when he looks at me like he is trying to remember who I am. That is the part no one wants to admit. Addiction turns relationships into transactions. I provide stability. He provides chaos. We orbit the same house but live seperate lives. I stopped expecting affection years ago. I stopped asking questions, becuase answers require honesty and sobriety. When I confronted him last year, he said, “I never asked you to stay.” That sentence was clean and brutal. He was right. I stayed. I also learned. Love cannot survive where alcohol is the priority. It will always come second, third, or not at all. I am balanced enough to admit my own role. I enabled. I hoped. I believed promises I knew were weak. But I am also honest enough to say this: love needs intention. Addiction has none. So tell me, reader, if someone chooses a substance over you every day, what word would you use for that? Is it love, or is it just habit dressed up as marriage? I am tired of pretending those are the same.

hey, so i'm sitting here going out of my mind with all these worries. i'm a mum with two boys, 13 and 15, and i can't stop thinking about what kind of world they're gonna be facing in the future. like, how the hell are they gonna find a job when AI is taking over everything? am i alone in this? i mean, everywhere i look, it's robots this, automation that, and it's got me wondering what kind of job market's gonna be left for my boys. maybe you've read articles or seen those doomsday predictions about robots turning us humans obsolete? it's not a peaceful thought. schools don't seem to prepare them for a future where creativity and humanity are the only things machines can't replicate. 🤔 and let's not even talk about the pressure these kids face, like, how can they compete with an algorithm that never sleeps, never gets tired? it just feels like a losing battle, and i don't know if i'm supposed to tell them to shovel coal or learn coding at this point.

plus, it's not just the job market, right? everything just feels like it's spiraling out of control. we're dealing with all this climate change craziness, and who knows what kind of world they'll inherit. i sometimes wonder if i should just be teaching them wilderness survival skills instead of algebra. it's hard not to feel like, what's the point? even my parents and their endless wisdom have no clue what's coming next—they're baffled by smartphones, so imagine trying to explain AI threats to them. 🤦‍♀️ you ever feel like you're in an episode of 'black mirror,' but there's no fast-forward button, just gotta wait it out? and the school systems? don't even get me started! schools are still teaching stuff that's been outdated since i was a kid. honestly, who needs cursive writing now? it's just like, come on, shouldn't we be focusing on skills that'll actually help them survive in the future?

man, it would be fantastic if i could just flip a switch and not worry. but seriously, how can you not worry about the future when every headline, every news article just screams apocalypse? i mean, even podcasts, which were my go-to escape, have turned into these doom and gloom fest about the tech-dystopia we're supposedly heading into. 😩 and social media? forget it, it's like living in a constant state of anxiety with everyone just adding more fuel to the fire. maybe i need to start dosing myself on some ignorance is bliss, but then again, can you really afford to be ignorant in a world that changes so damn fast? so if you're out here thinking it's just you—nah, mate, we're all riding this storm out together, just trying to figure out how not to lose our marbles in the process.

lately after valentines day, a month after my bf broke up with me, i've been feeling more suicidal. i already relapsed on cutting myself 2 times. just 2. i used to be addicted to cutting myself. that burning sensation i get on my skin, that feeling of satisfaction of im getting what i deserve, or that weird feeling of comfort i get out of cutting myself. its like a sick twisted way of me re-assuring everything is real. Whether i like it or not. For context of my breakup, i helped my friend with his past relationship, whre his ex cheated on him. i started to like, i confessed. we agreed to date, then he broke up with me 3 days later cause hes scared and lost feelings for me already. he also said he only agreed to date me bc he thought i would be depressed if irejected him but to be honest, him breaking up with me and getting my hopes up like that got me more depressed. i would have been ok with rejection. its fine. but him getting my hopes up like that? it hurts more than anything. i kinda hate myself for being stupid enough to confess. hes also still not over his toxic ex. it hurts. alot. it makes me wanna cry so bad.