Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 27

I'm just at the absolute end of myself. Now I believe and follow God, but "giving it to God" feels a lot like sitting here doing nothing. I'm a single mother (1 kid) in my late 20's, working a burned out 9-5, desperate for supporting my roles as a mother, friend, and individual. My job is a blessing in the sense that I can bring my kid to work, attend field trips, all the sorts, but it's always at the expense of my paycheck. And that paycheck is very important because even though I only make ~$20,000/year, I've accomplished homeownership (first generation homeowner), a Christian school for my kid, a paid off hunk of junk car, and only about $3,000 worth of debt (not including the mortgage obviously). Of course I'm on subsidy, but we don't abuse the system nor do we live luxuriously. I made a $175/month grocery allowance work but it's now been cut back to $23/month. I feel successful despite my circumstances, but man.. I'm tired of just "beating the odds", "overcoming the statistics". I want not more, but better. I want to start cleaning houses, but start up for materials is out of reach and I've had 6 surgeries since 2019, my body is wrecked. I'd push through it though if it meant I could afford my bills and still meet friends at the park at 2pm on a Tuesday. I'm very handy, but I'm more Jack of all trades, master of none. I built my own shoe racks and fix my own car, but I can't diagnose or blueprint. I don't have my own tools. I'm washing my hair with dish soap to make sure my kid has their ends met. I have no family where I live, and while I do have friends, why should I expect them to hear the burden of my predicament? For me, venting=asking them to fix the problem. And the problem feels unfixable. And that leaves me clinging to the fact that God is bigger than these problems. He's bigger, but I still feel like I'm being suffocated. I don't want a bigger house or a newer car. I buy almost everything from second hand stores. I just want to be a mother and a friend, and have a job that will leave me confident in my ability to pay bills.

I find myself in a unique position that I can't quite put my finger on. At 23, I feel like I should have a better grasp on what my relationships are supposed to look like, yet here I am, questioning whether I’m in a queerplatonic relationship or something that defies categorization altogether. It’s complicated when the emotional bonds of friendship start feeling very much like partnership, yet the labels we’ve been given don’t seem to fit. You know that feeling when you have a deep connection with someone, where the lines between friendship and romance are so blurred that you’re left wondering if you should just throw caution to the wind and embrace whatever this is or if you need to examine it more critically?

I mean, we spend nearly all of our time together—cooking dinners, binge-watching shows, even having those deep midnight conversations that last for hours. There's a comfort level that’s reminiscent of a long-term romantic relationship, but we never actually call ourselves a couple. We’ve both made it clear that we don’t want to label our relationship in typical terms, but the nature of our bond seems to challenge the boundary between friendship and a queerplatonic relationship. At times, it feels like we’re almost like partners in crime; the way we support each other emotionally feels heavy with significance. But when I look for definitions to cling to, I often question if what we have is actually queerplatonic. Does it have to fit into a convenient box, or can it simply exist outside of labels?

When we’re navigating the world together, I notice how we interact with other people. Friends often ask if we’re a couple because we do share physical affection, like holding hands or hugging, which typically imply romance. They exchange glances that seem to suggest I should either embrace this label or clarify my feelings. In these moments, I can’t help but feel a bit anxious. Are we doing something wrong by not defining ourselves as a couple? Or is there a possibility that this unusual connection is valid just on its own, and it doesn’t need to conform to societal expectations? There's so much unexpected joy in our relationship that questions whether I should just lean into the ambiguity; I often vacillate between wanting to clarify and remaining in this emotionally rich, undefined space.

Navigating these waters becomes even murkier when it comes to communicating about our feelings. We touch upon it sometimes, but genuine discussions about what we’re feeling and whether we want to label our relationship always seem to get sidestepped. I’m left wondering if it’s fear that holds us back, perhaps a fear of disrupting the beautiful rhythm we have established. Or maybe it's the excitement of being in something unique that keeps us from placing a set name on it, feeling that labeling it could somehow dilute what’s special. So, I ask you: when it comes to relationships that are this complicated—where do you draw the line? Are we too hesitant to discuss the nature of our bond, or is there wisdom in letting it float in this undefined space where love, affection, and friendship coexist harmoniously? I’m truly curious to hear what others think about my situation;

I’m 14 and I didn’t really have a good past because of my mother, and the past couple months now I have noticed a lot of changes about myself mentally. If I’m out of the house for too long like at stores or restaurants, I’ll just panic and I don’t understand why, It becomes hard to talk and usually I’ll just say “home”. Last year me and my family went to a huge festival, I panicked and we had to sit down for a while, I would stop panicking but it would start up again randomly and I just couldn’t control it. My grandma and grandpa took me to the car and I calmed down while my dad and my sister were still out for about 15 minutes before we left. They kept bringing it up and said it was an “inconvenience”. Often times if I feel a texture I don’t like, it feels weird like I have to shake it off my hands or I just sit there with my hands out and go like “ah” or “eugh”, my grandma as recognized it and will give me a napkin for my hands or just move us away from where the material was. Sometimes I get in this headspace where I feel like mentally around the ages of 6-10. I never really got to have a childhood, my dad said it was good before him and my mom got divorced but I don’t remember it and I only remember the bad stuff. I want to know what’s wrong with me but when I asked my therapist she said it was just a phase but I cried to her about it months ago (she is no longer my therapist for other reasons). I feel like I’m this way because I was forced to grow up too fast, I mean I was taking care of a baby (my little sister) when I was 5. My mom was selling my toys and Christmas presents for drugs.

When I get really interested in something like a video game, I talk very passionately about it and sometimes I get a little loud when I talk but I don’t notice it. My dad always gets mad at me and I try to stay quieter. I almost always tell my grandma about all my interests and crafts because she is the only one who actually listens. Today I went to talk to her about the craft I wanted to do for my Halloween costume this year. I was in debate between doing a barn owl or a deer kinda cosplay. I was in the middle of saying how I thought the deer one would be harder and how I really wanted to do the owl, but she didn’t let me talk and just kept saying “the owl sounds too hard, you should do the deer”. I kept asking her to let me explain and she was like “well the owl just seems too hard for you”. At that point I just went back upstairs to my room and cried. My dad doesn’t let me tell him about my interests because I talk too much and he wants the short story,now he doesn’t want to hear it at all. My little sister is spoiled rotten by my dad and just doesn’t let me talk, then she gets mad at me when I get mad at her because she keeps interrupting me.

I just want to know what’s wrong with me

As I sit here reflecting on my life, I cannot help but confront the pervasive sensations of existential dread that have accompanied me throughout my existence. Being 31 years old, a male navigating the complexities of adulthood, has brought forth a cavalcade of thoughts that often orbit around philosophical quandaries and abstract concepts that seem to hold me in a vice-like grip, compelling me to analyze every facet of my reality, both past and present. In a world where the mundane often shrouds the profound, I find myself ensnared in an endless loop of ruminations, particularly those that provoke anxiety surrounding my own existence, the nature of reality, and the elusive meaning of life itself. For instance, I was recently walking in the park—a typical Saturday outing to decompress after a taxing week—when I stumbled upon a seemingly innocuous tree, its branches swaying gently in the breeze, yet my thoughts spiraled into an intricate analysis of its existence: Was this tree merely a transient anomaly in the grand scheme of the universe, serving no greater purpose than aesthetic pleasure for the passerby? Or did it embody an essential piece of a larger cosmic puzzle, contributing to the ecological systems that sustain life on Earth? These dilemmas circulate in my mind like a hamster on a wheel, never quite yielding the clarity I so desperately seek. Coupled with these musings are the persistent obsessions that arise from my experience with OCD, a condition that amplifies my tendencies toward overthinking everything that might seem trivial to another—like the cycle of life and death, the inevitability of decay, and, perhaps most dauntingly, the question of whether I am truly living authentically or merely going through the motions dictated by societal expectations. I often wonder whether others grapple with similar sentiments; might they find themselves staring into the abyss of their own thoughts, lost in contemplation about the purpose of their existence? During one particularly trying episode, I recall sitting at a café, attempting to savor my espresso while the cacophony of voices around me morphed into a philosophical dialogue of its own, leading me to ponder the vastness of the universe and my infinitesimal, seemingly inconsequential role within it. Is it possible that I am just another fleeting consciousness amidst an unforgiving cosmos, merely existing rather than truly living? Yet, while these thoughts may initially seem daunting, I have come to realize that acknowledging such existential questions can catalyze growth and introspection. I have learned that challenging oneself to navigate through these labyrinthine thoughts can lead to an enriched understanding of my own beliefs and values, often prompting me to realign my priorities and appreciate the sheer beauty of fleeting moments—like the laughter of a friend or a stunning sunrise illuminating the horizon. Amidst this internal chaos, I find solace in the notion that there is something inherently human about grappling with uncertainty and the quest for meaning; it binds us together as we navigate a shared experience defined by our complexities. As I confront my existential OCD, I recognize the potential beauty in vulnerability, for it carries the promise of connection and growth. Whether through conversations with friends or moments of solitude, I have discovered that vulnerability can engender resilience, allowing us to confront our deepest fears and emerge stronger, even amid uncertainty. Thus, I encourage you, dear reader, to embrace the electromagnetic spectrum of emotions and thoughts that accompany the human experience; perhaps you, too, can take a moment to reflect on what it means to exist in a world that often feels overwhelmingly vast. In doing so, we might find ourselves embarking on a journey toward understanding and acceptance, realizing that even in the face of existential quandaries, there is hope and beauty to be found. In a strange way, is it not this very struggle that lends color and meaning to our lives, offering us the opportunity to define our own significance in this unpredictable adventure we call life?

hey y'all! I'm signing off for the summer! (we have to turn in our computers) so I will see you guys later!!!!!!! cant wait to tell more crazy stories!

So, here I am, 21 years old and navigating the murky waters of relationships. My boyfriend recently proposed the idea of a DDLG relationship. Now, I’m not going to lie—I had no clue what that was. A quick Google search later, and I was hit with a wave of confusion and anxiety. DDLG stands for "Daddy Dom/Little Girl." The concept of engaging in a dynamic where one partner adopts a more parental or authoritative role while the other assumes a more youthful or submissive role just feels... strange to me. I mean, sure, it’s somewhat popular in certain circles, but that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone, right? 😟 It honestly threw me for a loop. All the discussions surrounding restraint, dominance, and playfulness sounded intriguing on the surface, but when I really started to think about the implications, I began to second-guess everything. I’ve always prided myself on being independent and assertive, which made the idea of being “little” feel unnerving. Am I supposed to act like a child or something? That just seems so far removed from who I am.

To make matters even more complicated, I began to wonder about the emotional dynamics at play. Trust is key in any relationship, but does venturing into this territory require a different level of trust? Can I really be vulnerable enough to rely on someone for that kind of care while simultaneously being afraid of crossing boundaries? I am all for intimacy and connection; however, I can't shake the feeling that something might get lost in translation. Plus, there’s a whole lot of stigma surrounding this kink—I mean, what would my friends think if they found out? Would they judge me? Would they perceive me as naïve or foolish? It’s enough to make anyone feel uneasy. And then there’s the concern about consent and negotiation. If I enter this world, how do I even navigate it respectfully? What if I find myself uncomfortable when things get too intense? It leaves me in this sea of doubt, feeling like I’m teetering on the edge of something that could either be freeing or entirely detrimental to my mental health;

so here I am, sitting alone in my messy apartment, scrolling through Instagram while sipping on my third cup of coffee, wondering why I can't cry over this whole love mess I’ve been dealing with. I mean, c’mon, does being heartbroken mean I have to walk around like a freaking robot? it’s not like I’m made of stone or anything but ever since my last breakup, it feels like my emotions are stuck on mute. you’d think that after being with someone for years, when things go south, you’d at least shed a few tears, right? but here I am, dry-eyed and feeling more like a confused Android struggling to compute the emotional data it doesn’t have. it’s weird! it’s like I’m going through the stages of grief but forgot to actually feel something in the first place.

like, I should be angry or sad or at least something! instead, I feel like I’m just sitting in a waiting room with a constant loop of “What went wrong?” on repeat. this guy I dated was hands down the love of my life—the romantic archetype every cheesy rom-com would be jealous of. we had all the classic signs: the long talks about whether pineapple belongs on pizza and the plans for retirement in a house with a blue mailbox. but then out of nowhere, it all flatlined. we broke up because he "needed personal space," which is obviously code for "I'm too scared to actually commit!" and I should’ve been devastated, right? but all I could do was watch Netflix and scroll through meme pages, thinking, well, this is just peachy! It’s like my brain is trying to tell me, “Hey, feelings are for suckers!”

I keep waiting for that moment where I just collapse into sobs, like they do in the movies, but it never comes. all my friends always tell me it’s totally healthy to let it out! “Just cry it out! It’s a form of catharsis!” but like, why should I? do you really think that sobbing into a pillow is going to change the fact that he still unfollowed me? or that he’s probably out there enjoying his "freedom" while I’m here battling existential dread? crying feels like such a cliché, and I don't want to go through all that drama while feeling like a fool. Plus, I don't even know if I’ll feel better afterward! I’ve seen too many people ball their eyes out over relationships that clearly weren’t worth it. "You deserve better" is what everyone says, which is easy for them to claim while sitting on their happy thrones of successful love life while I’m over here in chaos!

but maybe that’s the trick of it all: this numbness isn’t forever. I mean, I’ve read somewhere that emotional suppression and denial can keep you from actually confronting your feelings. just the other day, I stumbled upon this article that talked about how sometimes we grow through what we go through, and I realized: maybe I’m just fine-tuning my emotional intelligence here. I mean, who’s to say that not crying means I’m not hurting? it’s like I’m letting my inner self take a breather, processing things in my own way. perhaps one day it’ll all hit me like a tidal wave, and when it does, I’ll be ready to ride it. and who knows? maybe being a brick wall right now is just part of the healing process. sometimes, not crying is just another perspective, and maybe I’m building my emotional resilience, even if it feels a bit odd. am I alone in this? is this feeling of emotional suppression something more people experience?

Not especially a workplace drama here but a positive story at work!

Starting out in tech wasn't a walk in the park. Fresh from college at 25, I eagerly stepped into a corporate job, thrilled to be diving into the professional world. Quickly, I realized that being the sole woman—and a Black woman at that—in a sea of white male colleagues was not the most comforting experience. It was subtle things, really: conversations abruptly silencing as I walked by, lunch plans I somehow missed, and meetings where my voice felt like white noise. 🙄 Ever been there?

Initially, doubts clouded my optimism, and I frequently pondered if I was genuinely cut out for this industry. Imposter syndrome hit me hard, whispering, "Do I even belong here?" Each evening, I'd retreat home feeling disheartened and unsure, replaying awkward conversations and uncomfortably forced jokes. However, persistence became my best friend; after all, my parents always taught me to "keep my chin up and never let anyone dim my shine."

Gradually, things took a turn for the better. I found my voice in team meetings, confidently pitching my ideas, which surprisingly (to me, anyway) were not only heard but enthusiastically supported. The "bro culture" slowly melted away, replaced by genuine camaraderie and inclusivity. "We should've listened to you sooner," joked one colleague after my suggestion landed us a key project victory. Ironically satisfying, isn't it? 🤔

Nowadays, my workplace vibe has completely flipped the script. My colleagues aren't just co-workers; they're my friends. Lunchtimes are now filled with inside jokes, coffee breaks feel like mini-therapy sessions, and collaboration is effortless. Honestly, I never imagined I'd reach the point where I'd look forward to Monday mornings. Yes, you read that correctly—Monday mornings! The transformation still baffles me at times.

Reflecting on my journey, I'm grateful for the resilience I've cultivated and the bonds I've formed along the way. Sure, it wasn't easy at first—nothing worthwhile ever is—but these struggles taught me invaluable lessons about perseverance, confidence, and self-worth. To anyone currently feeling alienated or doubtful in their professional journey: hang in there. Change does come, even when it feels impossibly slow. And when it finally arrives, trust me, it feels amazing. 🌟

Hi ive just been feeling really shitty lately. My grades are lower than they ever were before and i cant seem to get my life together. Im a sophomore in high school. In the first term of my sophomore year i got 5 Fs. I didnt know where i went wrong but i told myself i’d try harder. Obviously this was the first time i’d gotten such bad grades ever. I went home and i cried to my mom. I wasn’t crying over my grades i was crying about how my father was going to handle it. I could hear him yelling at my mom from his room saying shit like “she never studies” or “shes just lazy”. Truth is ive been asking my mom to pick me up early from school almost everyday and ive been absent so much. Ive been in and out of the hospital. So the stress from that day was a lot, i even passed out in the bathroom for 2 hours until my dad found me (he said i was being dramatic and just wanted attention).

In the second term i tried to show up to school as much as possible. It was hard but i pushed through. I was so scared after what happened in the first term i told myself I’m not going to go out and see friends, even on weekends. So for over 2 months i stayed home and studied. I even got multiple tutors to help me. Even after all that hard work i got 3 Fs and 2 Ds. I was crying harder than i was in the first term. I genuinely cried so much my head was throbbing. My mom told my dad about my grades, he was angrier than before. He kept yelling at me and telling me I’m a failure and that he wanted to hit me but he was holding himself back. I was crying the whole day, i talked to my girlfriend as she tried to reassure me but it really didnt help much. That evening i texted all of my friends ily and spent over 2 hours writing about 14 letters and i tried to end it all. One of my friends and my gf stopped me. I said i wouldnt do anything again but i genuinely dont feel like living anymore. If i dont take myself out then my dad will.

It’s currently the third term. I doubt im passing this year. Ive already repeated 9th grade over 2.5 marks. Now im scared i repeat this one. I swear im trying hard but it seems like all the time and work i put into this isnt paying off. Im in a public school, and where i live our grading system takes 80% of the final exam mark and 20% of the mark from the teachers (all the tests, hw, assignments etc.). My marks are never this low. Every time i get a test paper back something in me dies. I got my math paper back today (which i spent a week studying) and i got an 8/20. I genuinely felt like crying. No matter how hard i work everything just doesn’t work out for me.

I disabled most of my accounts. I blocked most people. I dont wanna talk to anyone. Im open to the idea of getting therapy but if theyre going to tell my parents everything then im not gonna talk to them. I really feel like my mental health is going down. I feel like shit everyday and wish it would all end soon. Im supposed to graduate next year with my gf and my other friends but the fact i had to repeat 9th grade took me a year behind. Now im scared to fail 10th grade. How much stupider can i be

lately, i find myself caught off guard by my reactions to even the smallest events. it's strange how watching a sentimental TikTok or hearing a slightly critical comment from a friend sends my emotions spiraling. some days i feel utterly indifferent to everything, while on others, i’m ridiculously sensitive, crying over trivialities that i wouldn’t usually bat an eyelash at. maybe it’s hormones, or perhaps this is simply what being a teenager entails. still, the inconsistency of my emotional state makes me question whether something more profound might be at play here. do other people my age feel this overwhelmed by basic, everyday situations, or am i just overly dramatic?

it's weird how sometimes emotions just hit differently, right? like yesterday, i was joking around with my bestie when she casually said something about how i take things too seriously. she wasn't even mean about it, just teasing me like usual. yet somehow, that casual remark lingered with me the entire day, making me feel unexpectedly inadequate and overly self-conscious. logically, i understand it was harmless banter, nothing worth dwelling upon, yet emotionally, it felt disproportionately impactful. later, scrolling through my socials, i came across a meme about being overly emotional, and instead of laughing it off, i genuinely related and felt comforted knowing others might feel similarly conflicted. it’s bizarre, isn’t it, how quickly emotions fluctuate from laughter to near tears, leaving you wondering if your reactions are typical teenage turbulence or indicative of deeper insecurities you haven't addressed?

sometimes i try stepping back, analyzing my emotional patterns objectively, hoping to uncover why i'm experiencing these drastic emotional shifts. perhaps i should consider external factors—lack of sleep, academic pressure, or social dynamics—as they undoubtedly influence mental equilibrium. additionally, adolescence inherently entails emotional instability, thus explaining why minor stressors trigger exaggerated reactions. despite acknowledging this logically, the sensation remains intensely personal and often isolating. so, here i am, articulating these thoughts to strangers online, hoping someone else might resonate and reassure me that feeling emotionally overwhelmed occasionally doesn't signify weakness or abnormality; rather, it merely highlights our shared human fragility. do any of you experience this emotional rollercoaster, and if so, how do you typically navigate these confusing, unpredictable feelings?

sometimes, I find myself perplexed by my attraction to men. at 29, one would assume that I have gathered sufficient wisdom to navigate the dating landscape, yet here I am, grappling with a recurring frustration. my experiences with men have ranged from enriching to utterly disheartening. it's as if they oscillate between interesting conversations and exasperating behavior that leaves me questioning my choices. is it merely a matter of societal conditioning? or is there something inherently captivating about the male psyche that draws me in despite the red flags? 🤷‍♀️

more than once, I have encountered individuals who showcase traits that are both appealing and maddening. for instance, I appreciate a good sense of humor and intelligence, yet these attributes often seem to coexist with a lack of emotional maturity. it is frustrating to witness men flaunt their charm, only to retreat into a shell when the conversation turns serious. I wonder if this is a common experience or if I have a knack for attracting the emotionally unavailable. could others share their encounters? it leaves me pondering why I persist in seeking connections that feel so inconsistently rewarding. the highs are exhilarating, but they inevitably lead to lows that feel all too familiar. 😕

while I understand that every individual is unique, the patterns I observe are hard to ignore. the initial thrill of a promising date quickly dissipates into moments of uncertainty; am I asking too much? do they even realize the impact of their actions? trying to navigate this dating scene feels like an uphill battle that I am somewhat reluctant to fight, yet I continue to feel drawn to it. perhaps, I question my own motivations—what is it about men that keeps me returning for more? the search for companionship is universal, but the road to finding it feels uniquely fraught for me. maybe it's time for reflection and a deeper understanding of what I am truly seeking in this complex game of love. 💔

i don't really know why i’m here, but i guess i needed somewhere to unload this without getting torn apart in real life. i cheated on my girlfriend. yes. it happened. once. i wish i could wrap it up in excuses or pretend it meant nothing but that'd be lying again. and i think i’m already full on that. we’ve been together for almost a year, she’s been nothing but decent to me. i met the other girl during a weekend party, things escalated; it wasn’t premeditated. there’s no passion behind it, not even lust really, just a dumb impulsive choice from someone who clearly doesn’t think ahead. i’ve read enough relationship psychology to know that what i did is textbook self-sabotage, yet here i am, acting shocked at the result. i haven’t told her. i don’t think i will. is that selfish? maybe. probably. but if the guilt eats me alive, isn’t that punishment too? am i supposed to hand her pain just because i created it?

my biggest problem is trying to calculate consequences like i’m doing damage control in a lab experiment. i think in probabilities, scenarios, long-term psychological impact, but none of that helps when you look at her and she’s smiling like the world makes sense. i can’t even enjoy time with her now. everything feels off, fake, like i’m in some kind of simulation running on bad code. maybe that’s dramatic but it's the only comparison that fits. she keeps talking about our summer plans, about little things we’ll do together, and i’m nodding along like an actor trapped in a scene i never auditioned for. some people say if you regret it, you’ve learned something. but does it count if you still hide it? if you still protect yourself first? people talk about closure and confession but what if i’m just scared of watching someone i care about fall apart because of me. maybe i already broke this relationship the second it happened and i’m just delaying the expiration date;

i don’t know what kind of man this makes me. i never saw myself as “that guy.” now i wonder if that’s exactly who i’ve always been and just never had the opportunity to find out. character isn’t tested when everything’s fine — it’s tested when you can get away with something and still choose not to. and i failed that test. miserably. if you’re reading this and you’ve ever thought about doing what i did, ask yourself: what do you think happens after? you think you’ll feel better? stronger? validated? because it’s none of that. it’s quiet. heavy. stupid. and it just sits with you. maybe i’ll come clean. maybe i won’t. either way, i don’t think i deserve her anymore, but i also don’t know if she deserves the truth in this way. how do you weigh truth against peace? and if the truth only serves to fracture someone else's sense of safety, is it even moral to reveal it? i’m not looking for sympathy. just had to let it out somewhere. thanks if you read.

Is it messed up that I slightly hope the the girl I’ve been talking to goes to jail so I can stop talking to her because I’m struggling to not to talk to her because I’m so alone, and I know she uses and manipulates me and it’s destroyed me emotionally. She goes to court tomorrow and idk how to feel happy because I can not be used or sad because I’ll be back to completely isolated . For a bit more context I met this girl at a club she right off the bat tells me she’s a felon but she likes me, I get her number and we go on a few what I think are dates but really just me paying for her dinner and I get to join along And she gives me just enough to keep me around and hooked but not enough for anything else and she tried to avoid most all conversation I try to have about anything and then calls me a creep to my face for trying to get to know her even though she has never asked me one question about myself and she’s never sales I don’t think this will work or I’m not interested she has said she is interested but doesn’t act like it

I'm a teen female (younger that 18) I hate it here. I'm so sick of being around people who act like they care about me but don't ever consider my feelings, my parents are so mentally draining, they say they understand how I feel but they genuinely don't. My mom said she had a "gay phase" too. It's not a phase, I've like women, and all genders since the I was young. They think its because I got exposed to things during covid and I hate it. Because it just shows how much they didn't pay attention to me as a kid (well, younger kid.) I literally had an imaginary girlfriend when I was like six and that was WAY BEFORE covid. I hate them. Mostly my dad, my mom is okay because she actually tries to hang out with me, not as much anymore but she asks me to go places with her and it shows she's atleast trying, unlike my dad who only does things for me if it benefits for him. My mom tried to tell me. "But he's picking you up from school everyday!" BARE MINIMUM. I don't want ungrateful, I know there's people who's dad's are worse but still, he doesn't even try. "He takes you to school sometimes!" Only because his physical therapy is on the way and I know he wouldn't do it if it wasn't.

Me and my mom were talking about what high-school I want to go to since it's almost the end of the year (I have 2 and a half weeks of school left) and we might go to this one school but my mom has to be at work 7:50am and we live 20-30 minutes away from her office so she can't drop me off at the bus stop, we'd have to leave way earlier than we already do. I said my dad could just drop me off and she went silent. (knowing damn well he's going to be upset about it.) She said "I'll have to talk to your dad about it." Uhm, why does he have a talk about it?

I don't know. Am I being unreasonable?

I’m a teenager, not older than 17.

My mom and my grandma both vent to me and they both don’t even face each other because of my mom and her boyfriend. It feels like there’s no privacy because my mom is always on face time with her boyfriend, HAS to show her face, HAS to have this camera on in her room even despite being face time, and HAS to show what she’s doing. (For more context her boyfriend put a camera in her room that’s “disguised” as a clock but my mom told me the truth of what it is.) She even uses the bathroom while he’s on face time, drives when he’s on face time, and even when she’s with me. He may not be there physically but he’s always on the phone or on FaceTime with her. It sucks because I feel like I can’t talk to my mom about personal things and I’m still just a kid growing up, learning how to cope with my own emotions. It makes me wish I had someone to go to, I don’t have my father because he’s not emotionally / mentally there for me. With my mom and grandma venting to me and my grandma talking about my mom behind her back to my homeschool teacher it makes me feel overwhelmed and stuck because I found out my grandma is kicking my mom out the house so my mom and her boyfriend can just live together because my my grandma said “your mother brings problems to the house” problems as in my moms boyfriend. It’s a whole situation that I’m not gonna get into. But I’m stressed out, my therapist appointment was canceled because my therapist is sick and I feel like I don’t have anyone to go to because my mom is always on the phone whenever I try to talk to her and I can’t go to my grandma because she’s gonna use my words against my mom or she’s gonna tell her other kids (she constantly gossips which makes me feel like there’s no privacy there either.) I just wish my family was normal and didn’t feel like it’s falling apart.