Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 24

It's hard to know where to begin, so I'm just going to start talking. I was dating a guy for over an hour and a half when he suddenly broke up with me out of the blue (OVER TEXt!!) Then, he ghosted me. I tried getting him to talk to me. I texted and I called, but no response. Until finally a week later he asked if I would be willing to meet. In short, we talked it through and decided to try again.

We were good again for a few weeks, and then we got into a fight. He lied to me but didn't think he did, and he got mad at me for being upset. (He was always getting upset with me for being upset, which was really crappy.) We talked this through, and before I went home that night, he said we were good. I really thought we were. It was just a rough moment, and I thought we had worked through it. Apparently, I was wrong.

He wouldn't respond to my texts for days, and when I called him a couple of days later after a bad day at work, he ignored the call, then a while later texted to say "I'm not ready to talk yet". I didn't even know that we weren't talking or that he needed space. He didn't tell me, and in hindsight, his lack of communication was always a sore spot for us. Probably another week went by before I finally got him to talk to me. I had a family emergency where my sister ended up in the hospital, and I texted him twice practically begging him to be there for me before he finally called. He came to the hospital, and he was reluctant to talk to me about what was going on, but he finally did. He finally said that he didn't want to be with me. He said that we could take a break and some time apart to try to work this out. He even suggested that we could still talk and even hang out every once in a while but that this would take some time.

I agreed to this because I didn't want to lose him. But he didn't keep to any of this.

I gave him space, rarely texted him, which all went unanswered. Every once in a while (like every couple of weeks) he would answer a phone call, and we would talk for hours about how we've been and it would go really well. Each time we made plans to meet up, but he also ended up canceling each time. This happened three separate times over the past 3 months.... and I fell for it every time.

He kept stringing me along, and I let him. He hasn't responded to any of my texts or attempted phone calls since the last attempt to get together. And I stopped trying. It's been nearly a month since the last time I attempted to reach out to him, and it still hurts so much more than I would like to admit. I know it's over between us, but I think the hardest part is that there was never an official breakup. We never got an official ending, so I think there is still a part of me that hopes he will eventually reach out to me, and we'll find a way to work through this.

I don't even really want to get back with him anymore, but I still miss him dearly. It's hard, and I feel so alone.

I hate that he did this. I hate that he treated me like this and that I let him. I hate that I still miss him.

There is so much more that I could write, but I'm not sure if anyone will actually read this.

I just hope to hear people's thoughts about this. I don't have anyone I can talk to about the breakup, so I have nowhere else to turn to and really want to get to the point where I can move on. Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

My anxiety is out of control because people and people I'm friendly with just suddenly don't turn up on schedule to the point I'm afraid I've done something wrong when I know I haven't done anything inheritably bad or said anything to harm them. I'm so lonely are try my best to make them but it's so much harder with anxiety.

I have major mental health and anger issues! I’ve tried to seek help online and people always try to patronise me and fix me until things get difficult and negative or “toxic”. It honestly just pisses me off! Suck people should be in no position to help me

All I want is your presence, not your presents.

Very rarely am I good with words, and this time may be no different, but I wanted to share my feelings from tonight. As I pack my apartment again, I think about the next steps and what is coming. I am moving to a larger space in a new area. Thankfully, I will still have friends and family nearby, but I feel so empty about the situation. I think about all the times I have moved in the past 10 years and how each time has been essentially me moving myself, alone, with no help (at least not from friends or family). I think about the move from New England to the South—wow, that was a big move, right? Why wasn’t anyone here to help me? When I moved from the South to New England, at least Dad went with me; he experienced the drive with me. So why didn’t anyone welcome me back? Was everyone happy I was going so far away? Why has no one come to visit? Why am I the only one trying? Is this what love looks like?

Now I am moving again, and my brother is coming to help. My brother and I have had a rocky relationship for years, but we have both matured immensely, and I am grateful for his friendship. I never thought we would be close. I am thankful that he has offered to help me move. I didn’t have to ask, but I made sure to tell everyone in the family. He’s the only one who offered.

Still, no one has visited. No one else offered. Why don’t my parents see how much it hurts that I have been back in the South for 9 months and not once have they reached out and driven to me? Why do they tell me they were coincidentally going to visit when I tell them I have plans for a weekend? Why didn’t they offer to help me move?

I have driven over 10,000 miles to see my family and set up the business, yet no one has even driven 10 miles to see me. My dad came all the way to Wichita (4 blocks from my new apartment) to pick up a friend’s child, but he can’t do that for me? Nana says that if anything were wrong and I needed help, he’d be here immediately, but why do I need to wait until I need help? I asked for help paying for a resume service, yet he made me feel like he wasn’t willing to help, only willing to “pay me back” for the driveway. Seriously?

Do they not know how it feels to call my brother and hear my mother in the background because she has visited? Are they closer? Yes. Do they have kids? Yes. But there is no excuse for not visiting a child over 9 months when they are only a few hours away. Hell, they didn’t visit for 7 years in Maine except when my brother and I FORCED them to get on a plane to visit me. We paid for the entire trip; Mom and Dad had to do nothing. Always citing money and time, they were able to buy all this fancy quilting equipment and build another building to expand out of their own pocket, yet they didn’t have time or money for me.

Why am I so much less important? Why did no one ask if they could attend my graduation for my Master’s degree? What do I have to do to make my parents happy or proud of me? Why do I care anymore?

Do they resent me for being gay? Lord knows I have learned not to bring anyone around, as I feel like it’s always a shit show. And then my mother sits me down to talk about how “she feels they have done a good job of accepting me being gay.” Why do my tears sting my skin every time I cry? What have I done to receive such treatment? What do I have to do just for them to try and meet me halfway?

I guess I really won’t get anywhere from this, but I wanted to type it out. I cry, it hurts, and I don’t know what to do to change it. I can’t have a healthy relationship with anyone because I don’t know what that looks like. I am broken. I have always been broken. Who am I?

All I want is your presence, not your presents.

my name is miriam and im almost 12. my parents are divorced and they can't agree on anything. im Jewish and my mom wants me to have a bat mitzvah at 13 and my dad wants me to have a bat mitzvah at 12. and none of them are willing to be flexible so now i'll have to study twice as hard. like this is supposed to be my breaking point, the end of my childhood, but what's the point if you have to do it all over again? and lately I've been struggling with suicidal thoughts because of family problems (ill go into that another time) so i don't really know what to do atp

Hi, it's me again, X, here with another vent.

I've been boggled by the news lately about this universal Comprehensive Sexuality Education (CSE) that's becoming a worldwide standard. In the Philippines, the Senate is now discussing the Anti-Teenage Pregnancy Bill, which suggests that CSE would be taught to students. What's more concerning is the claim that they're considering teaching masturbation to children as young as 0-4 years old.

I mean, maybe it's just me, but I grew up preserving traditions and religion, and for me, isn't this just so wrong to do? I understand the importance of educating the youth, but introducing such topics at such a tender age feels inappropriate.

Moreover, I believe that to prevent children from engaging in sexual activities at a very young age, we should limit their exposure to such topics in the first place. Teaching them about masturbation and the pleasures of sex seems counterproductive. Instead of reducing teenage pregnancies, this might encourage them to experiment more.

Why not implement laws that hold parents accountable for their children's actions? Providing explicit knowledge and exposure to children seems like we're tolerating, if not encouraging, them to engage in such activities. If they were more aware of the consequences, perhaps they would think twice before acting.

Again, this is just me. I'm not into politics; I'm just thinking of humane ways to deal with these kinds of topics.

There’s a heaviness in living a life that no longer feels like your own, a script I keep reading aloud, even as the words crumble in my mouth. We’re together, not for love, but for convenience—a fragile, lifeless thread binding us to a home that feels more like a stage.

If I were to leave, the company would fall apart. If he were to leave, the foundation of this house we’ve built would vanish. And so, we stay—partners in duty, strangers in love.

This home is not a sanctuary for my heart. My tears fall unnoticed, my sadness stirs no concern. It doesn’t matter if I cry, if I ache, or if I feel invisible. Here, respect is fleeting, care is transactional, and love appears only when it serves him. I am the pillar holding this family aloft—the financial support, the stepping stone. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t show just how much he resents me.

And yet, the thought of leaving terrifies me. In the culture I come from, divorce is a scarlet letter, a brand that whispers “failure,” “outcast,” “whore.” Here, it feels as though it’s always the woman who must keep the peace, who must sacrifice herself at the altar of family, no matter how much it hurts. That burden sits heavy on my shoulders, pressing me into silence.

Then there’s our child—our beautiful, innocent child who looks at us and sees something I can no longer feel. He sees “loving parents.” What are we teaching him? That love doesn’t matter as long as you stay? That a hollow home is better than a broken one? One day, he’ll grow up. One day, he’ll understand. And I dread the moment he looks at us and thinks, Mom and Dad stayed together because of me, but there was no love. The thought of that realization shatters me.

Am I raising him in a home that is whole, or a home that is empty? What lessons about love, about self-worth, are we leaving him with? And yet, I can’t bring myself to drag his tiny heart through the chaos of courtrooms, through the wreckage of a family torn apart.

So here I am, trapped in this endless limbo—afraid to stay, afraid to leave. Afraid of what the world will say, of what my child will feel. This fear, this sadness, this weight—it’s my constant companion.

I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know if there’s a way out, or if this is simply my fate. But I carry this story every day, and I needed to release it, even if just into the void.

To anyone walking this same fragile, uncertain path—know that you’re not alone.

Hi, just call me X. This is my first time venting. I found this online space in my desperation to find somewhere I could just shout everything out. At least, even if it’s virtual, it feels like a release. I’ll also be honest—I’m using ChatGPT to refine my sentences so they’re clearer for anyone who might read this and find it relatable. I might be posting more, who knows?

Have you ever felt like no matter how hard you try to change, no one around you notices or cares? It’s exhausting to keep adjusting yourself, hoping to meet their expectations, only to have them keep seeing you as the same person you were before. Even the people you trust the most—the ones who should understand—seem stuck on who they think you are. It’s like they’ve decided they know you too well, so every action you take gets misinterpreted through that lens. You’re out here making all this effort to grow and meet their needs, but it feels like no one even acknowledges how much you're trying. It’s draining, and honestly, it makes you wonder if it’s even worth it.

Ok so I’m 15 and my grandmother makes me take a bunch of alternative medicines and vitamins and mainly stuff with ashwagandha in it and since she’s been making me take these things with ashwagandha I’ve had absolutely horrible emotional numbness so much to the point were my childhood cat passed away and the very next day we got another cat I only felt a very small amount of sadness and it was very confusing I thought I was a bad person for not feeling incredibly sad and I just it is so bad I genuinely don’t feel sad or happy or just anything now and I’ve been having very frequent headaches and it sucks but literally just tonight when I saw that my stuff to help me sleep has ashwagandha in it I decided to look it up and wow for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like I’m insane I feel like I’ve lost a couple years of my life but tomorrow I’m going to show my grandma the research I’ve done and tell her I won’t be taking anything with ashwagandha in it anymore. Wish me luck .

Growing up, I thought that I had ambition to pursue whatever it is that I wanted. I bought into the illusion that if I evolved into an educated person, I could succeed in whatever I do. That was when I thought all else was equal.

As I grew older, the more I learned about my place in the world. After I reached for my family's tax returns to file for college financial aid, I became almost obsessively aware of poor we were and how much I was so much different my peers at school. I did a good job of hiding it, but I was deeply insecure of how my background compared to other people. This shame carried onto my time in college, where I became reclusive because of my own comparison of myself with the people I met.

My family has never really went on a vacation; we own a house so small that my brother has to set his bed in the living room; our house freezes in the winter because of window drafts and high heating costs; I purposely stay on campus longer than I need to so that I don't have to feel cold at home; my dad has a gambling addiction. In elementary school, I stole books because books were too expensive to purchase; we don't celebrate my family members' birthdays or any major holidays because of the expenses.

Themore and more time goes by, I feel my self-confidence slipping as I compare myself with other people. It feels like my starting line is below sea level, and I'm drowning.

so today my brother asked my dad if it was fine for him to go to the beach with my mom instead of going to the gathering with my dad. my dad for some reason flipped out and got so angry. he called my mom and screamed at her for 1-2 hours. my mom was already at the beach but didn’t have time to enjoy anything whatsoever. later on the dinner table my dad was telling my siblings and i about how his dad (my grandfather) threw a hammer at him for disrespecting him. my dad explained saying “i never once regretted what my father did to me because it made me a real “man””. he went to the nearby table where my brother placed his electronics, picked his nintendo up and slammed it into the ground. everything shattered and my siblings and i were so shocked and scared. my mom as well. some of my sisters started crying and yelling at my dad which caused me to cry aswell. my dad took my brothers phone and slammed it on the floor aswell. my dad acted shocked that we were crying. he said we are over reacting and whatever. they explained to him that these aren’t normal things that he is doing. and that we have been suffering from him ever since we were kids. he told us to say what was in our hearts. what we have been holding for our entire life. when it came to me? i just couldn’t say anything. i told him that. that i have nothing to say. but in reality i wanted to tell him i much i hated him and how much i wanted him to die. but based on what he did to my sisters. i know if i say something he will just keep going and trying to make me the wrong one. when it came to my youngest sister to speak she said that what he is doing is so childish. my dad looked like he wanted to kill her. talking about how “rude” she is. mind you we were all crying at this point. after everything that happened he took the rest of my brothers electronics and went down to his office. we started bursting into tears next to our mother and then we heard a slam, then another. he actually broke my brothers ipad and playstation. we went to my oldest sister’s room and stayed there while my mother went to talk to my dad. we sat for about 40 minutes when he came up to the room and sat down acting like he did nothing wrong. talked to us calmly. about how he wont changed. and this is our luck that we got a dad like him. before he left he told my brother that he will take my brother’s tv and break it as well. he also said that what happened and what we did to stand up for my brother is “wrong” and that we should repent. my mom later went down to the living room to go away from all the disasters but my dad followed her there and started fighting again. this is when i’m writing this. it’s currently 3am and all i hear is screaming. tbh i’m kind of relieved to hear my mom scream. i’m always scared that one day it will stop. and i would come down with her laying on the floor with blood everywhere. i just feel like my dad would do something like that.

in my dad’s defense he said that my brother is not a “man” because he can’t “talk/speak” well like the other kids. but then he told my sister that she should stop comparing him to other dads because it will only bring her pain. and i’ve had a habit of recording anytime my dad screams. so as soon as he started i hid my phone under the table and recorded everything. as you can tell it’s not his first time doing something like this. not to this extent ofc but once when my brother was 9-10 my dad wanted to teach him how to ride a bicycle. after a while of my brother failing my dad hit him over and over until my brother peed himself.

i’m so tired. so tired. i’m still i minor and so are my siblings except my oldest sister. my dad claims that what he is doing is the right way of teaching us. he sees us as a disappointment. i don’t know what to do. my mother tried divorcing so many times but she couldn’t. i’m dying inside. i want to die and end it all. but then again. i would bring shame to this family for killing myself. because in my dad’s eyes, he did mothing wrong.

so tell me is my dad wrong? is he abusive? if so what kind? am i being brainwashed washed into thinking this is the only right way? what can i do to stop this? i’m so tired and i son’t know what to do.

My partner and I are in our mid-20s and just everything is going wrong. We've been arguing for the last three days. They haven't let me near them since then. And now they say because I did nothing to "fix" it, they are done with the relationship. I did do things, I offered so many things as well, but none of it mattered. They didn't want any of it, it didn't mean anything to them. They don't feel loved and it's all my fault.

I've been with my partner for over 6 years. 4 years ago we moved into his mother's home with a promise from her that she would move out in a few months and that her house would be ours. It's now been almost 4 years and she's still here. Worst part is that she has a partner that is so disgusting. Like goes through the trash to find food disgusting. Anyway, in these 4 years she has made my life a living hell. Anything I try to fix or move or make my own she literally destroys or moves in order to make me angry. She tries to make it very clear that she's the one in charge. I honestly really do hate her. I have never in my life hated someone and to be brutally honest with you all I wish she would drop dead. There's so much in between that I could tell you all...but I also struggle with mental health issues and she's very old fashioned. She's very racist and is stuck in her ways. She doesn't even think mental health is real...she's just an ignorant, horrible woman. I cry myself to sleep alot. My relationship with my partner is really just non existent. He doesn't see what his mother has done to us...and unfortunately I am not financially stable enough to go be on my own. I'm struggling so much. Trying to be faithful to someone who in my eyes doesn't appreciate me and doesn't hear me out...I'm just so tired and sitting here now crying as I write this makes me realize that I deserve better. All I ever wanted was someone to love and to love in return. All I ever wanted was privacy and space in my own home. This house is not a home. This house is a prison.

so I'm bisexual and have been for a bit and last year I made friends with people and I really liked them and we got along well kinda I never really talked and was always left out but after a while around January of 2024 I found out they were calling me a F@ggot and a queer and I was forcing them to be my friend and I was weird and it took a toll on my already bad mental health and I stopped talking to them but then they acted like they have never met me and they didn't sh!t talk me

I am not a good person. At all. That's all i can't think about. I can't move i can't do anything all i can't think about Is that i ruined so much for so many people. I can't stop imagining just how much better things would be If i wasn't here. I ruin everything no matter how much i try. Everytime i mess up and ruin everything for everybody. I'm too scared to get out of this bathroom, i'm too scared of everything that Is going to happen. Everything Is so overwhelming. There's so much work and so many tests. I don't have the capabilities for this. I can't make It. I don't even know how i made It here. Three years ago i had promised myself it would be different. I promised myself that these years would be different, that this school would be different, that i would be different. And i tried i really tryed to keep that promise but i failed. I fell back into the same spiral. I broke my promise. I dissapointed everyone including myself. My grades a crashing. Everyone hates me. And i'm ruining the relationship ship i had with the one friend i had after i gave my all to be friend her for two years and a half. Right now i Just want to stay in this bathroom and stare at wall. And just never get out. I Just want to hide. Dissapear. It would be better for everyone If i wasn't here.