Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 3

A good friend of mine has DID (dissociative identity disorder). We've known eachother for about two months... and we hit it off, with a fight. Even though we've moved past that, it honestly feels like they're better off with nobody, at this point. I don't say this because I wish on their downfall--just that, I'm not any better than their past relations. I might be an improvement, but I'm not what they're looking for. I don't want them to suffer with someone who can't understand them completely, as only another system can fully comprehend what they're saying. No matter how many documents I make, how many terms I know, I won't ever truly be able to soothe their ache without having been in their skin for one day.

I've always kind of been the therapist friend, knowing just what to say to calm down a person from their crisis. I've noticed I can't quite ''handle'' neurodivergent people, and I want to change that. I want to learn, I want to be a person they can trust, a help in their life. I don't want to be a dead weight like most neurotypicals are. It genuinely hurts me every time I mess something up, every time I'm oblivious to their cries of help, every time their doubt doesn't get through my thick skull. I want to understand, to fix things about my behaviour, to stop being so sensitive over every mistake (Not to make this about me, but sometimes I do cry myself to sleep).

I wish I could ask them, but I can't. I genuinely cannot. I've got my own issues--feeling inadequate, emotional, temperamental... but I want to be atleast a little bit better for them. If anyone has any advice, I welcome it with open arms.

Alright, folks, here's the deal. I've been dealing with some heavy stuff and it's apparently confusing to people around me. You ever get to that point where you're like, 'How did we even get here?' Because that's my constant thought recently. I've got friends asking why I'm distancing myself and being all weird but honestly, it's just managing my own mental bandwidth. Like when you've been clocking in too many hours on Zoom meetings filled with endless corporate jargon and then you need some time alone to just detox. Seriously, these virtual meetings are taking a toll on my sanity sometimes with relentless pinging of notifications from work chat apps driving me up the wall. We're all in this tech-driven hamster wheel and I swear half the time I feel like shouting Basta enough already! There's really only so much 'synergy talk' one can listen to before wanting to run for the hills.

But seriously speaking (or writing rather), am I wrong for wanting some peace? For stepping back when it feels like everyone else is running towards chaos at full speed? I swear I'm not trying to be dramatic or pull off some grand gesture of withdrawal from important relationships. It's about getting back in touch with ourselves without corporate emails constantly interrupting our personal space. Just because I'm setting up a Wall of Silence doesn't mean I'm donning armor against everyone and everything forevermore... Gimme a break! 😅 Maybe instead of assuming it's something they said or did wrong I'd appreciate it if folks would consider that sometimes people just need solitude—not as punishment but as preservation. A skilled pianist knows when each note needs silence between things and right now that's what I need… a pause moment in life's noisy symphony.

It's strange, my family. I don't mean just because of the crazy shit either. Remove the gang shit, the drugs, the main plate- and I'm kind of a stranger to them. Weirdest thing.

Recap:

After it all blew over- or up, depending- and my siblings scattered too. Ended up on my own at 14.

Did what I could, when, and how. Time passes. I struggle, yeah. But I'm here. So:

About more than a decade later, very select members of my fam- mostly the distant rels- try to talk, or get in my life a bit. Here's the thing though: Even before, yk, the gang stuff- when we were a sorta normal fam- They treated me and my sister like mistakes. Not just beatings, but like, just rotten behavior. The rest? Watched.

So, naturally, we don't really speak to anyone. At all. My dad, for instance, feels guilty for leaving me in that environment. Took me a while to give him an inch, but I did. And it's been up and down. Same with grandparents: Guilt. But it's not just their conscience here, it's mine.

They come into my life, and yk, they know what they saw back then. But they seem to think they know it all. There are times I've shared some.. yk, fucked up shit. Real dark, things I seen or yk. And they look at me like they've seen a ghost. They say things like, not that they don't believe, but almost as a "Surely I'd have known about that" and its like BRO yall fuckin ran and left us behind. Maybe you SHOULD have known, but ya don't. Y'dig?

But it's not just that. Sometimes they get so..idk. Ig maybe them running off to live normal lives while me and sis got our shit rocked 24/7 sometimes prevents them from understanding that we are self made, self rescued. We didn't have help- and we didn't need it, yk, mostly, turns out.

So they come back into our lives, ask tough questions and when the answer is, circumstantially, horrific- they seem to know it all. They tell me "Ah you can't let that get you down.' Yes, good advice. Only I just told you I saw a man burn to death over 1000 dollars debt. Thats.. like wtf is that response? "Well that's unfortunate." UH??? WHA?

YOU asked ME!

If it ain't that, it's this weird misunderstanding that my struggles are trivial- idk if it's bc I'm young, and like some really stupid folk, they assume age limits your experiences- but they literally cannot understand how I'm traumatized. What's more, they're smothering me- or try to. They give off the "oh shit we really fucked him up, kinda failed, please please forgive us" but laced with a "let's try to make him who we want". And well, I don't take kindly to that. Ain't no one making me anything. Idk, does any of this make any sense?

Another thing I hate, is when they actually want to ask questions or.. talk about bad stuff, especially failures or things they did wrong, they sugar coat it, and I just.. nah. Nah bro. They treat me like this odd thing, a curious thing to look at and wonder about, and then ignore. Strangest thing really. Family is such a foreign concept to me, disgusting almost, I know that's my own experience but fuck, man. I think what's going to happen is imma make my peace and dip. They want control, they want to be nosey so they can judge. They want to ask questions and pick them apart, but shrink when the answer is given. That's like asking a vet if he's killed a man, or a paramedic if they've seen a man die, and getting disturbed when they say yes.

Idk. I guess I just didn't expect my entire bloodline to be a punch of spineless cowards.

Or, if it's not that,

OMG, I can’t believe I'm even writing this... So, we had this huge argument yesterday that was like about nothing. Literally, it was over which TV show to watch. 🤯 My boyfriend just blew up and got really aggressive (again!). He actually hit me: it's the second time now. WTF?! Like seriously, who does that? I'm just sitting there stunned and thinking 'is this really happening??' He's usually so sweet but when things don't go his way he flips out. It's hard because I care about him but man, I’m not gonna accept being treated like this anymore. Ugh, there's all these feelings swirling around but one thing is clear: I've got to do something about it.

Honestly y'all, I'm kinda scared and confused at the same time 😩 Trying to imagine a future without him feels bizarre; yet facing a reality where violence becomes a norm isn't an option either. And yeah my mom would say leave... but it's not straightforward...or maybe it is? Why does love have to be so complicated though? Cuz deep down somewhere in me there’s hope he'll change but also a fierce need for self-respect screaming 'get out while you still can!' 😡 Going between feeling mad at myself for trusting him initially then back to missing the good parts of our relationship... my brain is literally on a rollercoaster here! Seriously though (and most importantly) standing up for myself matters more than anything else; I deserve better ✌️

so, i'm 21 and kinda at a crossroads here? i’m a girl and have been in a relationship with my amazing girlfriend for a while now. we vibe so well together. recently, she brought up the idea of having a fun night with her best friend who happens to be a guy. the thing is that she was super clear about what she meant: it wasn't just going out for drinks! 😊 yeah, that's right, like having us three bringing some extra spark to our... umm adventures?! can you see my predicament?!?!

anyway, i've never ever considered myself interested in guys but when she proposed the idea... didn't hate it; it felt intriguing!!! idek if I would call it curiosity or something deeper but part of me was interested. maybe that makes me bi or maybe it's just situational attraction?! who knows!!! i’ve read so much stuff online like Kinsey scale and labels preaching freedom and acceptance and all but they're only partly relatable?

i chatted briefly about this with one of my closest friends who identifies as pansexual herself; she's always been super supportive no matter what topics we dived into (totally love her for that). although when i tried explaining how his presence might add another layer entirely new and exciting dimension... she's convinced i'm just exploring latent bisexuality or something.

am i overthinking this or could it mean something real about myself? on one hand.. branching out seems thrilling yet daunting; anyone else experience similar conflicting feelings???? because this whole dimension is uncharted territory loaded with possibilities excitement nervous anticipation:)

having a mom who hates you is tough. i'm 17 and a guy, wishing things were different. when she admitted (while drunk) that she wanted a girl instead, it was like a punch in the gut. it's not just words; it affects everything. feeling unwanted sort of messes with your mind, you know? every conversation feels loaded with unspoken resentment, like walking on eggshells all the time. there's no natural ease or warmth which makes being around her hard. as much as i try to change her perception, nothing seems to work. trying to stay polite and respectful but it's exhausting. not gonna lie, there are times when i question my own worth 😂 what's worse is that internal doubt creeps into other areas of life too: school, friends and even future plans all feel tainted by this negativity at home.

I'm 16 now. I forgot all about Kanye and many other situationships. I have a boyfriend now. Nick and I have been together for 9 months now. He kinda gives me a reason to live. We don't argue much, we can't actually start arguments anyway. But when either of us is down or feeling tired of everything, we sort it out. Many times when I fought with my dad and aunt, i would hide in the small living room that's no longer used in my aunt's floor. I'd lock myself up and call him. He always eased me. Sometimes in the past, we had a lot of miscommunication. Mostly because he saw our future while i couldn't see my own. He'd say stuff like "don't say that" or "I won't let you". It never really solved it. He has that habit now too. But I want to believe I've talked him out of it. I still fight with my dad a lot. But now, it's politics too. And religion. Because genuinely, I'm tired of the church he brings us to. It feels like a cult. And all of the words they say contradict each one. Yet some have some ground to them. Like goverment hating us all. The political parties just being a cover up so monsters with no brain can hide under red maga hats. But the all loving God? How is he all loving if he "hates lgtbq", "hates immigrants", "hates different religions", "hates sinners"? I'm pansexual but I've only come out to a few friends and my boyfriend. So, the God I'm supposed to pray and ask for help hates me? Interesting point. Very interesting. Makes me believe that Satan was treated absolutely unfair. What? Not my fault the church is not really God and it's actually men who would rather have me a sex worker than a scientist. Whatever. The point is; Everything still tires me to the bone. I'm tired. Of pretending I like things. I hate the system. I hate the God that men have shown. I hate the goverment. I hate people who think violence is an answer to someone being different, whether it is skin tone, sexual preference or just fashion style. I hate people who think they know it all but aren't trying to see a point from all views. I hate how the victims are getting blamed while the abusers and rapists are walking free and are having good lives. I hate how sensitive I get over things around me. But am I really the sensitive one if nobody has empathy and sympathy in this day and age? How are you expecting me to think of my future and enter a society that hates me and would rather have me killed than see me walking on the street? Guess what, I don't have a future at this point. All I will see and hear is that the work I want to study and do for the rest of my life, which is chemical engineering, is not somethjing for me. Very few teachers believe that I'll actually get that job. Not just because the system won't let me, but also because I'm a woman. And a gifted one too. I ace school tests and exams like I'm playing a game. My teacher who does extra lessons to me for physics and chemistry so i can be ahead of people says he has seen brains like mine once in two decades. Maybe I sound egoistic. But shouldn't I be considering that I know what I can do but won't be able to do because of the damned stereotypes the whole world seems to hold onto for dear life? Anyway, that's mostly it I believe. Suicide still hasn't left my mind, it never did but whatever. My dad still doesn't treat it like I do but that's also never changed. The rest of the other vent is still the same. I just have Nick now being the best boyfriend ever and giving me hope everytime I fall. Love you all and thank you for sharing your points in the last vent. I did read them even though i didn't reply. Thank you all for caring.

Hi everyone! I know this is a long shot, but if anyone is kind enough to help me with $50, I would be incredibly grateful. It would really help me out right now. Thank you so much for your kindness and consideration. ❤️

It's been difficult as of late. So many struggles. Another one of mine, one that sort of brick walls me- is the loss of my Fiancee. We'd met when she was a receptionist at my doctor's office. She was gorgeous, witty, intelligent. A passion for music, and travel. A wandering soul like me. She soothed me, and gave her all to me, and we shared some of the finest and most tender moments of my life.

Things were difficult for her growing up, like myself. And, well, I can attest to what happens when you spend too much time running from old haunts. It's no easy task, especially for certain types of PTSD. We'd both come from violent families. I dealt with it my way, but for her, she drank. She wasn't like that at first. It was a gradual decline. I tried everything. For a year and a bit I worked 3 jobs to support us as she began to withdraw more and more. It broke my heart, and still does. I tried to get her family, the ones who were good and normal, to help me get her into rehab. She wasn't ready, I guess..

Eventually things got to the point she began to get very bad. Sometimes she'd throw stuff at me, yknow, she'd had flashbacks like I would. It's hard to hold it against her. I often wonder what I could have done better. We ended up splitting up for a year, and she began to slowly crawl out of that life. She finally began to get better, and then I lost her. Car accident. She was 23.

That was in 2022. We were together 4 years. She was my precious love. All this time later I haven't even visited her grave.. I can't. I can't do it. Her sister, she's very sweet, often checks on me, and we reminisce of Her. She asked me if I'd be looking into dating again. I confessed, it's difficult. I still think of Her. She understands. And, as time has gone on, my pals or my brother asks: When are you going to try and date again?

Not to rush me, but, I guess they thought by now, I'd try again. I was the best version of me, with Her. I cooked, I cleaned, I was spontaneous and always had a surprise trip, or something. We shared a garden, it was beautiful. We grew tomatoes and berries, cabbage. Fuck, what a woman. Truly special. I think I'd like to try and date again, but I'm nervous. I'm scared of losing someone like that again. I was a complete mess after she died for like, two years, just absolutely fucking destroyed. I've chatted to some gals, but I can't seem to do more. I mean I'm not one to hook up, that's not my style, but even going on dates, I just feel scared to be hurt. Strange no? Maybe? Ahh, what do I know

there's this guy im very attached to and like. But things ended like 2 years ago and i still miss him at times and feel like im going crazy all the time cuz hes in my head 24/7 which is very annoying. I have tried literally everything from no contact to no stalking and everything but after a few months i end up having crash outs from feeling loneliness and just missing him. That guy has zero interest in me. Doesnt want me. I feel like i might move on if i were to date someone else but i dont wanna date right now i just wanna focus on myself and live my life. And maybe look for a partner when i want to settle down or get married. What do i do. This guy that i really really like what do i do about it now. He ghosts me avoids me but i just wished he would block me instead of just ghosting. And kind of everything that happened between us broke me so much i dont think i'll ever even wanna be in a relationship ever again.

It's outrageous that he's working with my former boss. In my opinion, he holds the title, but I no longer see him as a boss because he's doing his own thing. I don't see it as a position that limits my work at the company, but rather as one that only gives directions and sticks to them as far as they can, which is the very definition of a boss, formally speaking. Unlike other bosses, who go beyond that, they maintain their boundaries, but you can see that desire to push beyond them, like everyone else. However, that's not the case with this crook. I feel that I'm the one who should be dealing with him, in support of everyone, so as not to give him the impression that he's being sidelined, or at least give him some leeway so that the rest of us don't become blinded as a team. I have no other choice. At least what I have to do, which is answering emails, isn't exhaustive, but I'm the one who has to keep the group going right now, and otherwise, we'll fall apart. I'm tired of having to shoulder his responsibility, because it's clear he's not focused on work, but on anything else that isn't. I live under the constant pressure to preserve his image, no matter what, because otherwise he wouldn't know how to defend himself. He always needs to be at the mercy of whatever he can defend, because going further, getting involved, is something he couldn't do; it would show he's involved in something outside himself. In this sense, he's a difficult person to deal with, because he chooses an image that relies on being nowhere, and because of this, he ends up dominating everyone, of course, out of fear of privacy, of course, out of fear that it will lead to conflict.

This kind of person isn't someone I like, and I feel like he takes away time from doing my own things, from seeing everything from a more holistic point of view. I feel like it makes it hard to write, that he annoys me in general. In fact, I'm writing right now and I don't feel like it precisely because I feel like this guy is a burden, and I wish it weren't so. I even feel like I'm running out of words and I'm searching everywhere for the strength to keep writing the way I like. With him there, it feels more complicated; I have to think more. I don't feel capable of expressing myself freely, or practicing that freedom, because it drains my energy. I miss my freedom, but despite that, I feel that he's not the obstacle right now; rather, he wasn't the obstacle in the first place.

I've been noticing that as I write, I'm opening doors to a world, one I didn't know before, where danger doesn't reign in any way. I feel like things are going better for me with the girl I'm currently in a group with because I feel like I can go out into the world with complete confidence. I feel like I can say I have a group to start out with, unlike the one at home, which is more of an exclusionary act than anything else—a constant test of whether or not anyone is being abandoned. This makes us very observant of our surroundings and eager to escape them at all costs, because we don't like being constantly tested. We're always prejudiced against falling into the wrong hands or something like that, precisely because our own families shaped us and made us face off against other family members, forming factions. In fact, their way of living with us is based on these tests, which always seem insufficient. I feel that deep down, both this girl and I hate our families because of the deep-seated distrust that's masked by those who do favors and, in my case, abandon me completely. For my part, I had to hold everyone accountable, making them directly responsible, by providing evidence of their wrongdoing towards me, so that I could be free and at peace. At least now I have a relationship with my father where we both feel like equals, as it should always have been, by God, a relationship where each of us has our own life, can excuse the other's mistakes, but without compromising the other's quality of life, thus creating a middle ground.

I've always said, and I was reflecting on this a little while ago, that being with my father somehow made me accept all my other relationships. Before, it was about each of us having the space we wanted from the other; now it's about negotiating space, and that's what I'm discussing with my girlfriend. It's about each of us having our own life, but also being able to coexist with the other because there's something that connects us, whether we like it or not. I could apply these same words to my father, but they make me want other experiences just to achieve absolute solitude, where I wouldn't have to be part of any group.

Despite everything, going it alone seems counterproductive, given that I operate on principles that challenge the culture, confront it head-on, and prevent me from offering clear defenses. Instead, I have to maneuver until I manage to escape, meaning waiting for things to happen, not knowing when to step in, until they do, to prevent my silence from being used against me. This was something this boss abused a lot in the beginning, until I managed to get him to leave. It's striking to see how, the last time I went to the office—it was a meeting, a party—he ended up completely broken, totally detached from the office group, out of place, focused on his own needs and seeking satisfaction through others. That extreme work ethic and his lack of presence, his mind elsewhere, clearly showing that he wasn't there; he was completely shattered.

I'm fed up with writing down everything I think. I don't like it because I'm always thinking, and it makes me afraid of thinking. I feel like I'm not writing in my usual concise way, and I'm relying on digital media to stay in tune with what's happening to me, to at least feel like I'm doing something meaningful with my thoughts, instead of just getting stuck there. This could also be used to be rebellious, which I don't want. For some time now, I've noticed I'm trying to understand my life more deeply. Currently, in my office group, I'm with a group of women who were against my boss. He took me in, even though he'd been trying to get me close for a while. I saw them as a way, I think, to make the group stand out socially, which isn't exactly easy to get in the office for fear of being targeted. With me, tricks are met with reprisals in that environment, given that I'm prone to them if you consider the possible connection between their public image and their own. That's why I represent security to them, and for me, the possibility of giving them affection. Of course, everything had to originate with my friend, who was the most withdrawn of all there, for that to happen. She wanted to show that her group was different, different from her, who was reserved, but that doesn't mean she should be abandoned. It doesn't imply possessiveness; quite the opposite. She fosters empathy so that I don't stray from her own image because she knows what it's like to be in that situation of expressing feelings and stepping outside of who she is. Initially, it's something difficult to maintain because people even resort to lies to survive. She needs it, and I'm not justifying her actions, but I must explain the mechanism because, whether we like it or not, we succumb to the effects of prejudice.

Everyone in that office has a tremendous fear of prejudice. I'm so tired of writing so much; it almost makes me want to stop moving around and just close my eyes forever—not in the sense of committing suicide. I write down everything I experience, and it's getting to me because there will always be things to write about. I feel chained down, I admit it.

why can't I do anything?! i'm 33, a man who's just been completely blindsided by my wife's treacherous act. we recently bought this older house together, thinking we'd fix it up... it was supposed to be our big project, you know? how things change! well, scratch that... it's MY project now because she decided to screw around and leave me high and dry with our daughter!!! instead of the two of us working on getting this place livable, it's just me struggling alone.

so here i am stuck holding DIY catalogs trying to figure out how to install drywall while coping with this emotional dumpster fire. gotta plaster those walls while managing a toddler...just fan-frickin-tastic. sometimes I feel like I'm gonna lose it completely! weekends were supposed to be about planning some backsplash together or laying new tiles: now they’re about me halfheartedly attempting repair jobs I didn't sign up for solo!!! people kept talking about bittersweet stuff when it comes to homeownership... sure never imagined THIS flavor before.

depression hangs over everything like these stupid hanging wires poking out from incomplete wall sockets. how can I focus on sanding floors when all i want is pull into bed forever? friends say 'take a break', but guess what folks: deadlines aren't optional when you've got nowhere else livable... and bills pile faster than dustbunnies without focus too 😩 hearing quotes thrown casually like 'time heals wounds' doesn't help better insulation achieve itself either!

but hey... it isn’t all gloom though (i swear)! whatever monsters lurk inside these four dilapidated walls get an equal measure back again someday: the satisfaction plantin' fresh veggies next springside kitchen window OR seeing neighbors cruise past admiring completed patchwork exterior towers above any temporary chaos easily dwarfed from personal cloud storms (ending deluge) eventually giving way once dark clouds pass proving resilience even through rough patches.

hey, just wanted to vent here for a bit. I've been struggling with this whole tattoo thing lately, and it's kinda driving me nuts. So I got this tattoo a while back, right? It was something super meaningful to me at the time, like a reminder of my own strength or whatever. 😅 But now I'm hearing all these people talking about how tattoos are like scars. Like they think it means you're covering up self-harm. And man, that really bugs me!

I never thought of it that way before. To me, tattoos are art; they're personal stories inked on skin. but now there's this little voice in my head wondering if maybe they're right? Is there something wrong with me for wanting to express myself like this? It's not like I got the tattoo because I'm hiding anything...or am I? It's been making me second guess everything, which is exhausting.

I know everyone sees things differently (which is cool), but it's just so frustrating when you start doubting your choices based on someone else's perspective. My cousin even said 'a tattoo's permanent' as if I didn't already know that! 🙄 Anyway, what do y'all think? Do you ever look at someone's tattoo and immediately jump to conclusions about their mental state? Or is it just a personal preference kind of deal?

So I stopped in at a restaurant to eat and around the corner comes this guy with makeup on, a deep gravely rumbly voice like butter and from the moment we locked eyes, neither one of us could stop smiling. He was even dancing around the restaurant when certain songs came on and pointing at me and winking at times. I was too scared to ask him for any contact info or to be friends because I'm in between jobs at the moment and don't have an active phone right now and didn't want to be too embarrassed. I kinda wish it wouldn't be too creepy to see if I could find him online and ask if he wants to be friends. He was cute as hell and had a style that I definitely loved. I feel like he would be a great friend if anything.

I'm so fed up with the office. I can't stand it anymore, I don't want anything to do with it. Everyone there treats me like an animal, everything is done through gestures and other things. There's no respect for me as a person, I don't feel treated like another human being, but like a freak. I'm angry because a story I wanted published hasn't been published yet, a story where I had something to say and I want it to be brought to light somehow, how tedious. I can't stand my boss, I can't stand any of the people there. I hate being treated like a child, when I'm not a child. Why am I the one who has to have feelings there? In the middle of that cold environment, receiving trivialities, when I should be getting shut down like what happened at home—it happened that in the other story I talked about an encounter where my sister and I acted out one of the sex scenes from movies, because my parents watched it a lot, and because of that I was blamed and then it was established that I was a sexual predator or something like that. I'm fed up. My boss lived for me, expecting me to put up with his ways, his negligence, just like my secretary did. He wanted me to accept his whims and what he couldn't do, and I wasn't going to put up with that. He wanted me to keep quiet about it all, and I wasn't going to be in that position. I hope they publish that story; I needed to say it. I checked again, and it was published, which I'm grateful for.

They blocked me on an app because, according to them, I posted sexual content. I explained the situation to my sister, in such a general way that it was really to prevent that accusation, but she still got blocked, and I don't know if that was the reason. I'm tired of being silent in that office, of never being able to say anything. I hope, for God's sake, that they don't expect me to speak well of everyone outside; that would be the height of their control. I can never even express myself to my father. It can't be that my reflection is confined to websites and not my own town, although it makes some sense: If my town chooses a language of terms they haven't explored at their own pace of life, naturally, the prevailing language will be one where mine can't be received, in any way, because they won't empathize with that use of experience, with what they call venting, because they'll think I'm out of control. In fact, in my town, faced with that, the usual approach is to detach oneself from the circumstances; my mother used to base her actions on that. In my family, there was a tendency to see caring for the family as caring for one's image; in fact, my father operated that way until he reached a point where he himself had to step aside, because it was coming across terribly, and that's not what defines family support.

The country where I am now consists of enforcing social controls. My boss is the kind of guy who thrives on keeping others under control, on keeping them on the right track—that's what he calls groups, for God's sake. It's living with the constant anxiety that the world, for some reason, could collapse, his carefully constructed social circle, which is really just an unstructured effort to build a network that always tends to crumble with time. In fact, life itself becomes the enemy, if we're honest. I needed my sister's story to be made public, no matter what. I needed to say it, to express that the accusation that he was a rapist wasn't true, not at all, and I wanted the world to know. Because at home, when I was scolded after the incident that led to their prejudice, no one asked me anything; they just assumed. And in fact, it all started as gossip. That's why I don't speak to my mother, or at least not very often. However, for her, that doesn't count as a reason, because for her, I only did what she thought was right. In other words, for her, acting according to her own beliefs is enough to forgive me, because, she justifies it, he did the same thing with her mother. What a disastrous family, for God's sake.

I'm eternally grateful that I left the group I was in at the office. My boss was always on the lookout for any way to get in the way of his plans with me, trying to influence even my family, just like he did with his secretary. All in an effort to keep everything under his control, because he couldn't manage his own life; he needed someone else to support him. Hence the "the more the merrier" mentality, hence the idea that anyone who didn't support him should be discarded, or else he'd keep them cornered through gossip and threats of consequences. The truth is, he was a truly macabre type, pretending to be a saint, but I was already prepared for someone like him. I make a living by striving for an independent profile through constant development; hence, my relationships, where I occupy a position of being detached from the other person's life and focused on seeking a pleasant and considerate encounter, given the nuance of the details achieved thanks to our history, are the most formidable for me.

At the same time, these relationships lead to constant reflection, which is almost a form of self-imposed pressure, given that I don't have people in other parts of my life to support me, although I know how to support myself when they are present. Thanks to these relationships, I've learned to navigate socially effectively, since I've delved into the various ways of being alone that society itself offers, and which are precisely what apps provide. However, I can't tell anyone about this because in my country, we live by embracing what we know and what we don't, suspecting it to the extent that there is a difference under some condition that determines a distance, inherent to the nature of the subject. That's how things started at the office with a girl who I thought had autism, without any medical report to that effect, without questioning it; in fact, they accepted it simply because my boss and the secretary said so, just like that. I remember that this girl once told me that I was highly sensitive, without having fully understood me, hence her deduction.

I remember once raising this issue with my boss, as a complaint, and he simply tried to escape by making me look bad, so that he wouldn't be seen as someone who could say whatever he wanted—in other words, so that the focus would be on me and not on him. It's incredible the number of ways this guy has found to keep doing what he likes, no matter what, at my expense, making sure I can't complain, precisely because the consequences of clarifying things are worse due to prejudice. That's his game with others. It's unbelievable that I'm creating these diagrams outside the office, on a website, and expressing them to people I don't know. It seems incredible to me. However, this shows that the office isn't a welcoming place for me, despite its intentions, and it never should be, unless it's by a qualified professional, whom, in my experience, I'm afraid to trust. Even among psychologists, there's a lack of respect for adhering to a specific scientific approach, such as behaviorism, at the expense of prejudice. The game is far too unfortunate.

The game of prejudice in the streets is very harsh, far too radical, because once the issue is set in motion, there are points where it can't go any further, and that's why people pay the price. Truth isn't the priority; suspicion prevails, and events are what cause the issue to shift, without any regard for evidence. There's no discrimination in criminal law. I live in a country where, therefore, mobility must be determined by others, not by my freedom as defined by the law, although there are times when it is, but those are decisions made by individuals, not by the law itself. Instead of the law prevailing in terms of practical application to improve it, the will of the people prevails, turning the law into a smokescreen or a game of impositions.

It's a shame my boss built his entire life on staying where he wanted, doing whatever he pleased, but those days are over because I exposed him.