Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 4

hey, so I wanted to share something that's been keeping me up at night; it's about these dreams I’ve been having, all stemming from that carjacking I somehow survived. it's not the typical nightmares people talk about; these are vivid, relentless, and they cling to me long after I've woken up. you know how they say dreams are manifestations of our subconscious processing trauma? well, mine are like a non-stop highlight reel of that day’s terrifying events, played on a loop, with every punch, kick, and tug echoing in excruciating detail. imagine being trapped in a film you can’t pause, one where you're not in control, every scene as clear and vibrant as reality, and you're forced to relive it each night! it all started right after the incident; occasionally, the setting changes, but the core theme remains the same. is it normal to feel the physical impact of dream events upon waking? my psyche seems to be stuck in a feedback loop, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos; the slightest sound jolts me awake, my heart pounding as if the entire attack were happening all over again.

sometimes I ask myself, why does my mind replicate such suffering rather than letting it fade into obscurity? it's like my brain has switched to disaster mode! I read somewhere that this is my amygdala going into hyperdrive, but knowing that doesn’t exacty bring comfort when the flashbacks hit harder than a sledgehammer to the chest… and here's the thing, everything is intensified in those moments; street lights turn glaring and blinding, voices around me warp and distort as if trying to mock me, taunting me with fragments of past conversations that twist and churn my anxiety like a blender on high speed; emotional regulation goes out the window, and the normalcy I crave remains tantalizingly out of reach! funny, isn't it, how during daylight I can rationalize and compartmentalize, but as soon as the lights go out, I'm triggered by any sound or shift? have you ever felt your mind betray you like that, caught in a battle it keeps losing nightly? it's a solitary fight, when the darkness turns friend to foe, and I find myself awake, heart racing, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. seriously, what’s with the hypervigilance? am I forever destined to navigate the world whilst walking on eggshells, second-guessing even the neighbor’s dog barking?”

no, I haven’t tried group therapy yet; honestly, the idea of reliving the trauma in front of others doesn't sit well with me, not when even privately, the memory looms larger than life! yet something's got to give, right? because even the smallest things might set off a chain reaction leading me straight back to those horrific moments. but understanding and dissecting it cognitively is only half the battle! have you ever tried to catalogue experiences only to have your mind slip into overdrive trying to make sense of it all? because that’s precisely what I've been tackling. even sleeping pills feel like cheats, granting oblivion but never resolution, a band-aid on a gaping wound; the experts talk about reconsolidation therapy, exposure therapy, but where do you even start when every night's a battlefield?! you have to wonder if resolving such deep-seated trauma requires accepting that vulnerability first; dialing down the hyperarousal one step at a time; retraining a mind that's gone rogue and wild in survival mode.

there's something fundamentally unsettling about being unable to trust your own mind and the manner in which it processes past terror… the dichotomy's stark: a life of logical intelligence clashing against primal instinct! so, where's the balance, and is resolution even possible when you're eternally questioning if your defenses will crumble again under pressure? at the end of the day, the essence of these dreams feels not just like a punishment, but a reminder bestowed against my will, and confronting that without letting it drown me remains the hardest endeavor. so if you have any suggestions, maybe you've been through similar? I’d genuinely be open to hearing how others tackle such pervasive, all-consuming tension that manages to infiltrate the most sacred space of rest! just want a semblance of tranquility where each night doesn't have to mean revisiting hell, and isn’t that something we all deserve?

I left my toxic 9-5 jobs to look after my mental and physical health. I was able to lose 10 kgs weight and reverse my PCOS too. However sitting at home i have isolated myself and feel none of my entrepreneur ideas will work. I see other flourishing in life. Can i do that too?

Its of course, a stupid problem. Which makes everything even worse. Like many people, I'm in the first week of my semester. And I swear EVERY teacher has to have an opinion on how I take notes and how I structure papers. And a grade on it.

I hate annotating. So of course I got a teacher who makes us annotate everything. I am actually excited for when she starts adding more requirements than "annotations present", because at least that's some structure.

On the other hand, I have a teacher who went overboard with structure and gave us a god damn style guide of how he wants the outlines for our reading formatted. He wants headings. He wants full sentences. He wants us to separate out the thesis statement and write a conclusion. Not that the chapter HAS a thesis statement. It jumps directly into its first point. It doesn't help that the book is nearly 20 years out of date.

I'm so angry I can barely see straight. I can't focus. I'm tired. I want to go to bed. But I need to get this done now or I wont get it done and these god forsaken outlines are a major part of our grade. Like, I get penalized twice if I don't do well on this first one, because he will CAP A LATER OUTLINE AT A B-. The man can't explain anything to save his life either: I had to google how to do an outline, and I still have zero idea how to take the broad topic assigned for my final paper (Due in October. But at least I wasn't part of the third of the class who has to turn it in at the end of September!) and condense it down into something I can actually research.

Hey guys, I’m 21M and something has been bothering me. It’s stressing me out to the point where I feel like I’m losing myself, even though I seem okay to people. I’m stressing about my future and life. I’m still dependent on my family, and I’ll be graduating next year (2018). That thought is making me depressed.

I wouldn’t say I’m bad at academics, but I never give it my all, and even though I manage okay, or some I know I could do better. I always tell myself that one day, at some moment or event, I’ll start giving my best(not only for academics but for my life) but while waiting for that moment, I feel like I’ve been drowning. Zoning out has become normal for me I can’t even fall asleep or walk without zoning out. If I start thinking about my life, I just get stressed.

What’s made this even worse is that I used to be religious I’d go to church, read the Bible... but now I don’t do any of that.

Am just clueless right now and had no reason that I pursue.I’m just here to ask you, what’s something that kept you working hard? What was the moment or reason that made you want to change or to want more in life?

I feel like everything's in my hands again. According to studies I've done that explain how a girl and I operate, we've formed a group, thanks to previous groups. We collude based on these. Without going into too much scientific detail, I observe that the therapists or anyone around me has the ability to help me express the issue and thus discern details. I have to do everything on my own and through means that said environment includes us.

They come across as extremely obtuse people, based on prejudices. It's clear that when faced with new topics that also require their development, they don't give them any dedication. I don't want to imagine what that girl's environment must be like, or the things she'll say about us, trying to reconcile with it to avoid problems, surely bordering on the fact that this phenomenon that encompasses us is nonexistent or some kind of madness typical of a psychiatric hospital. At least in this situation, I can count on psychotherapists, many of whom dare to be our guide in relationships and, as a result, make us act on them. They, like my circle of friends, and most likely hers, talk about groups based on stereotypes without falling into the abstract realm, simply to fulfill said stereotypes, or profiles. But the fact is that they tend to assume concepts through scenarios associated with them without revising the definition, which could precisely point to other scenarios in which the same definitions apply. This becomes a headache for me because this issue with the girl is something I would like to talk to someone about, consistently and deeply, dedicating the necessary time to it, precisely to be able to discern what it is about between us and be able to act responsibly.

The attitudes people tend to resort to are that, due to their lack of appreciation for the details of the relationship—something that, in fact, only I can do—they simply, going a bit further than therapists, lead me to adopt evasive behaviors, leading to escalating conflicts with this person, and I'm not as fair to them as I am to them. In this sense, it seems that my environment is causing instability in my relationship, rather than guaranteeing its stability. Of course, I observe that they rely on the relationships I have with them to remain where they are, preventing this particular development that I'm experiencing right now. Keeping quiet will only keep this there, and it manifests itself in other ways, and frankly, they prefer to talk about it. I feel completely abandoned by those around me in the midst of these circumstances; I don't know how the girls will experience it, with their surroundings completely absent from the matter. Perhaps they will resort to avoidance, but the idea is not to fall into that same game.

It's exhausting to be alone and under pressure, because the fact that I have to keep quiet about it in my surroundings makes it a burden, a difficulty for me to interact with them thanks to their reactionary nature. It's a self-centered way of thinking; in other words, they're not considering my particular circumstances. All they say is that they can't handle me, and they want to deny it through my time with them and some communications, as is often the case. All under a sad desire to avoid feeling guilty. Furthermore, I feel invisible. How is it possible that no one has stopped to notice my expressions of feeling suffocated? Of not being able to say anything? People will say that the doors are open, but that only underscores this self-centeredness, an evasive approach consisting of only observing those things that favor their status of being okay with me when that's not the case.

The worst part is that all of this, everything I've written, I express to people who are strangers, because for them, it would be impossible, as it would reveal exactly what they don't want to see. This speaks to the fact that they aren't paying attention to my relationship with me in any way. The details they shed light on are ignored; it's like not being in it. I feel like no one has the capacity to support me in this, that they've left me alone and won't do anything to fix it, all because they want to stay in their own life, which they consider good in and of itself and don't have to change it, in their opinion. In fact, no one is interested in being with me through thick and thin, in this environment I've been thrust into.

I don't know how she's taking it; however, I only see difficulties, not for anything else, but for not knowing what to do in an environment that isn't collaborative, beyond perhaps going with the flow. In the midst of it all, I feel like I'm the only one capable of doing something for this relationship, for it to stay afloat, because, unlike many people, I dedicate myself to this, going against the grain of others. For her part, I'm far from such dedication, at least with specialized knowledge, because in her environment, she doesn't need it; she only knows that this is the case It affects her, and I do things that make things work, purely as a result of that dedication. Furthermore, I highly doubt that her environment would encourage her to support that dedication, given the fact that she's deeply embedded in it. For my part, I've managed to isolate myself as much as possible.

It's unpleasant to know that you're the only one who can do something about it and that nothing, absolutely nothing, is in your favor. The environment I'm in doesn't favor an individual modus operandi, but rather one that's simply standard. In fact, in my lifetime, I don't know of an environment that doesn't do this, and that's the one she's in, and it doesn't favor her. Wishing to count on her would be the same as counting on someone who pushes against me to learn; in other words, it would be an added burden. Being at a distance is how she can truly support me, unlike others who aren't and only feel like they're taking time away from my life, because they don't allow me to express myself as I am. I always have to be very measured so as not to trigger prejudices, and they harm me. I feel that's why I'm very reserved, and at the same time, it makes me understand why I tend to be somewhat popular.

I wish I had some kind of magic wand or magic powder, without referring to drugs or anything like that, that would make this whole journey end. It's like feeling a cross on top of me, and with others under social pressure, always supported by my feelings, and being able to reach points where people can take advantage, given that this occupies a busy part of my life. I wish things were easier, even through stories, poems, or some of those texts. I feel able to express myself to her because of the censorship on social media, which also seems completely excessive and without any consideration, constituting simple flaws of the platform. In part, sometimes I wish none of this was happening, or that I had never met her, however, not because of her, but because of the environment that surrounds me. I insist, she's doing well from a distance, since she doesn't carry weight; those who are part of it are very helpful; they can't do anything and therefore keep their distance. I'm talking about being part of it because there's a group among us, and that doesn't just go away.

I’m just so overwhelmed. I’m sick of English, math, civics, stem, Spanish. In every class I’m stuck with work and I’m just so confused all the time. It’s only the second week and I’m already stressed out and just can’t handle this anymore, it honestly is making me suicidal?? I feel myself scratching at myself for longer periods of time and doing it on purpose. Not even that I’m itchy but it just feels good to hurt myself?? I don’t know it’s just I can’t understand math and it’s making me feel like a failure, I’m already in a “special class” but it wasn’t doing jack. And my parents are going to divorce and it’s just small things piling and it’s making me just lose my mind. I’ve already told my mom but she won’t do anything to help me so I’m just.. so over my life at this point I was begging my mom not to go to school and I know damn well it’ll just make things worse. My head hurts so bad. And my throat just keeps tightening..

And I have a big state testing going on soon and I’m having 4 tests and quizzes next week and it’s really making me want to kill myself. I’m just so sensitive that everything puts me off.

At the age of 86, mobility and hearing challenged I find myself the care giver of my dementia suffering soulmate and my mentally ill adult daughter. It is overwhelming sometime with events and worries of what happens if I am unable to provide the care they need. Members of our small immediate family and our few close friends do not seem to understand.

I will call her Amara, [the essence of spiritual and physical beauty.] It was 70 years ago, in our Junior year at high school and it was love at first sight. She was literally the girl of my dreams then and still is the love of my life. I am blessed. We started dating and married 6 years later.

Amara and I have been the perfect team for 65 years, growing together while supporting each other in everyway possible. One of our daughters has given us a wonderful son-in-law, two grandsons to be proud of, and a beautiful great grandson. Our other daughter is single, emotionally ill and lives with us. She is estranged from the rest of the family outside our home.

In recent weeks Amara has been diagnosed with the early stages of dementia. Many of the symptoms have been present for some time. As I have learned, they are not all related directly to memory.

As a believer, I constantly pray. Everyday I ask for the patience and strength to deal with my own short-comings and provide what my dear wife and daughter need from me. Any constructive advice will be deeply appreciated.

I am 17 I'm supposed to be at school right now but my mother is telling me to go to work in foreign country

(I'll be using country 1[ home country] and country 2 [foreign country] for anonymousy)

I'll name myself Pom for anonymousy, before going to country 2.. my mom already started treating us badly, literally a day before the flight my mom pointed a knife at my (little) sister and started hitting her with wood. I went there to shield her as I cried with her, All this because my sister refused to eat something..

In the hotel she acted like nothing happened, even calling us her "baby"

.. Once we stepped foot in country 2 we were greeted by our dad who's smiling. I didn't like it one bit, it gave me chills and those chills were a sign because

After just a few months of being in country 2, there were already shouting and fighting. We don't engage in them they engaged with us. Like the topic was supposed to be my dad's laziness then turned into me and my sisters (2) school expenses.

We got so tired we called the police on them because my father started threatening to break my (middle) sister's bones. Once we got to the police station, their tone changed to something more nice..

Us three looked crazy, fidgeting because we need to have a face to face conversation with them. But when we weren't able to we were asked to go home, because they promised they won't be sleeping in the apartment.

They lied and once we did get to the apartment and the cops were gone they re-entered the apartment and started saying so many bad thing to us.. that's when they said me and my (middle) sister should go back to country 1, like as if we didn't want to but we don't want to leave my (little) sister alone with them when they weren't the ones who would beat her up.

A day after packing, my mom came home and suddenly said "you don't need to go" I thought they would excuse their behavior for being stressed again but no she added "give me 10k" AND I LOOKED AT HER DEADASS. I don't know if I should laugh or not.

Everything died down a little after that, but..

There was a party in the apartment, just a family party one and my father who shouldn't drink started drinking (he was diagnosed with something that prevented him to drink..)

The next day my parents fought and me and my sisters went to a mall with my mom..

Again everything seems fine not until it was 3:20 I woke up from my father's singing. He was drunk again, my mother woke up and told him to shut it off

He didn't listen and said "In a bit I'd get my drugs haha" my mom was furious and asked "What?? Are you gonna grape your children too??" My dad replied "Yes, Mom's name, I will"

I was shaking in my room and texted mom to come inside the room, so he won't come in.. he didn't fortunately

And I asked my mom if we can go away from him just for a few hours and my mom reluctantly agreed. Once the few hours were up though.. and my mom wanted to go home, my father started yelling "Oy!" Repeatedly

Startled me and my sisters rushed outside. We're scared so scared..

After a month the situation has died down, but I feel uneasy.. and scared.

And even more so after my mother kept telling me to just work, because she's tired WELL I AM TOO.

She told me to stop school because im turning 18, well this is their choice.. THEY CHOOSE TO GO TO THIS COUNTRY NOW I GO BACK A GRADE, not because I'm dumb or have low grades I have a 90 on my card. It's because of the school policy.. (part1?)

I feel like everything's strange since she's been in my life—well, them. Everything's strange. I feel like I can't write calmly. I'm afraid of straying from the norm they want. When I post things on my social media where they're not present, I feel like they're watching me. Also, when I write, I feel like they're pressuring me to keep me insistent when I write, and so they can accuse me of being pushy, obsessive, or something like that.

I don't feel good around her. Her boyfriend is an arrogant person who likes to make others feel bad, and he's also extremely violent, and about things that connect with his past and aren't really a topic of conversation. With her, I feel like every time she has the chance to criticize me for something, once I'm comfortable, she just does it; first she gives in, and then she leaves, pretending to act in ways that keep me quiet or keep me unaware of the issue.

I don't know why these people wanted to associate with me. I feel the hugs from her boyfriend are absolutely fake. Once, I felt like she pulled me in for a hug, and I felt like she was going to accuse me of being a stalker, a pervert. These people really don't give me a good feeling.

I was with her once and said goodbye, thinking she was going to come with me, but no, it turned out she left with her work group. However, when I said goodbye to them, they displayed a strange, absorbing silence. They gave me the impression they were upset with me because of a possessive spirit. Frankly, I acted like nothing was happening, but it really seemed strange to me. Added to this is the fact that several of them, the women in that work group, seem extremely expressive and confident, leaving it up to you to decide whether they're looking for something or not. More than once, I half-assedly tried to get closer to see what the outcome would be, only to be met with rejection, which I dodged. Of course, this group likes to provoke when something gets out of order, invading the normalcy with which they treat you. That order consisted of everything regarding its members being consensual. For God's sake, it's a work group! How can they pretend to be like that?! They seem like those typical dysfunctional families, who are meddlesome in everything related to their members, and like things the way they like them, so as not to lose profits.

The disorder was palpable. Furthermore, that girl liked to encourage her boyfriend to get into situations that always bordered on the limits, provoking others, while being complacent when it came to coworkers. It seemed that her bosses, somehow, maintained the situation or had gotten used to it.

I also didn't like that girl was insinuating things about her relationship, saying that things were going badly, and at the same time treating her as if he were her husband or something. On top of that, she expressed that her environment put too much pressure on her; I saw her numerous times.

What I found in those people was a complete disaster. A total disaster. I don't want them in my life. They are invasive, they provoke others, they push boundaries, and no one does anything to prevent these situations. What this seems to me is a group of victims, who also like to have order in everything around them, with everything they interact with, typical of victims. Furthermore, this is at a prestigious university. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The overload, due to the excesses, is becoming degrading to me. I have to get away from all these people immediately.

I will definitely leave some things behind, however, I will not be in a place where this behavior is encouraged. Besides, it was the university where I studied. I wondered, how could they have ruined it like this? For me, it was practically a luxury, even though I am Catholic. And it is also one of the best in the country. This had to be a nightmare. I wondered, "Where were the priests?" Besides, if the place where I worked, and where I observed the scenes with her boyfriend, was the library, what were they like in other places that are less important to students? I feel like there's no room for peace there, no way. I wanted to have a good time, to be comfortable, but under these relationships, under these people, it's impossible because I have to move as they please. I understand why they chose to associate with me, with extreme kindness. For me, my beloved university, being that library where I liked to study and it was the best place for that, was completely lost.

I felt each of those employees using their positions purely to socialize, instead of using them to work. She sometimes neglected her responsibilities; I had to remind her of her duties. The most horrible thing is that her boyfriend was a sexist... I honestly wanted to die. I can't believe what I witnessed.

They hurt you, so you should hurt them back. its funny, I feel like everyone who's felt pain like this has thought that at some point. felt like everyone else should hurt because they are. and its not their fault they were hurt. but your actions are always your own fault. its unfair to say that one person should get away with something because they are struggling, but someone who isn't struggling shouldn't. I know there are certain circumstances. but I mean people who hurt others. it shouldn't matter whether you are going through something, no one has the right to hurt other people. I understand some people struggle because they've been hurt. but if they just hurt someone else, then it'll end up a cycle wont it? now talking about my experience here, I was hurt. badly. by someone I thought I could trust, and when I expressed they hurt me, I was told that since they were struggling its okay. how is that fair? you make a victim feel like the villain? I have every right to blame you for something you did. you should feel bad, and guilty that you've hurt someone. or in the very least apologize. but I didn't get any apologies. no. of course not. why should I?? its not like this has caused my life to fall apart and caused me long lasting pain. I truly do hate when people do that. no one should be punished for getting hurt. no one should hurt someone because they were hurt. no one should feel less than someone else for something they cant control.

I never really thought about how much of our lives bleed through screens until I ended up talking with someone online who felt like they knew me better than people in real life. Isn’t it kind of wild? You log into some random chat, or even just leave a comment under a post, and suddenly there’s this exchange that feels more authentic than what happens at the dinner table. I guess that’s what people mean when they say “we’re not really strangers” online. There’s this paradox: we are technically strangers, but then you share these raw pieces of yourself and, boom, the distance collapses. I told this person about how I used to keep a journal in high school because I didn’t have anyone to vent to. They laughed and said, “You’re still journaling, you’re just doing it here now.” That hit me, like maybe this random human behind a username gets it. Do you think it’s possible to form real friendships this way, friendships that last, or are we just fooling ourselves with illusions of connection? Some people warn about “parasocial relationships,” but honestly, isn’t every relationship a little parasocial at the start until trust builds?

Anyway, I don’t want to romanticize it too much, because there are risks—catfish, ghosting, all that nonsense—but still, there’s a hopeful part of me that thinks maybe we underestimate the value of digital closeness. Once, I was ranting about my job frustrations, how the deadlines piled up and the boss barely acknowledged effort, and this online friend just said, “Take a breath, you’re doing more than enough.” Simple words, but I teared up. That tiny message carried more compassion than the HR department ever did. Maybe the internet, for all its flaws, creates pockets of kindness that we stumble into when we least expect it. And I like to think there’s meaning in that. Even if we never meet, even if I never know their face, isn’t there something powerful in recognizing someone’s humanity through their typed-out words? I hold onto that. And I wonder if you’ve ever felt it too—reading a stranger’s post at 3 a.m. and thinking, “Wow, I’m not alone in this.” That’s why I keep showing up here, because despite the chaos and the anonymity, there’s always that tiny flicker of connection reminding me the world isn’t so cold after all 🙂.

My post about Nigerian guy is satire pls don't take it seriously

In 2019 I met this friend online on a game and sometime in 2020 they cut me off but then came back to me in 2022 and then in 2023 cut me off again but now they are back again and I am so worried that if I say the wrong thing that it will be another repeat year of me getting attached and then hurt when they cut me off. They say they arent as unstable but sometimes they make a comment or two that I have to bite my tongue so I dont upset them it also probably doesnt help that we are both autistic. Im really hoping that this time is the time we keep a friendship so we dont have to go through a big fight and then apologies next year. One last thing am I dumb for being hopeful this time or is it normal to be hopeful after giving someone so many chances?

So, you know how when you're a teenager, your brain is rewiring itself as well? Like, your prefrontal cortex is very slowly maturing, unlike the amygdala with already matures. That means since the amygdala is a very emotional and hyperactive organ, it causes us to do more impulsive things than rational ones. No wonder at 13 I feel so angry, reckless, sad and anxious. Those emotions are shameful, they make me savage and horrid. I wish I had better control of myself. It makes me focus on one thing, usually shallow stuff, and forget the other, like an idiot. That's why I finish certain homework and not some. That's why say something horrible and regret it. I hate my brain, I wish I was more mature and less angry and chaotic. I've heard certain drugs like Xanax work as they reduce amygdala activity and soothe you, make you more relaxed and less anxious. They do that, right? And I heard that cutting my skin works by releasing endorphins, which will also soothe me. I hate my body, I hate how ugly and out of control I am right now. The drugs and cutting will fix me, in theory, they work I just know it. So please, I don't think I'm shameful, I think I'll be smart and lucky and not get addicted.

Facebook is beyond belief. You can't say anything through it. I was just talking about those feelings that are contradictory to advocating for good ideals, and it itself put it up for review. Such an extremely valuable text, it itself put it up for review. It's a question that I found totally offensive.

How could they do that? I feel like with Facebook, you can't write anything, because in principle, no one knows why it puts things up for review. It doesn't mention anything about what I published; it just leaves you at the mercy of uncertainty. I used to vent on Facebook, but over time, I stopped doing that. Frankly, I don't want to post posts like the one I made in WhatsApp groups, after reflecting, because I find it disruptive, and I like to post a lot.

Putting up with Facebook cutting off a post without explanation is harassing. You expect it to remain a post, even more so when it's barely published and doesn't say anything about it being annoying or anything like that. It takes you by surprise. You want to publish in peace, but you don't know what mistakes you made to sustain that. Besides, in such posts, I express my creativity; I'm not attacking anyone or spreading hate speech or anything like that. They're simply creative posts, nothing more, even pleasant stories, for enjoyment, rich reading, and everything is in groups, where that's what they're for. The platform is pulling my hair out; I mean, I need a space to share what I want to publish calmly, and Facebook isn't providing it, even though it gives the false illusion that it is.

I don't know if Facebook or people are worse. What I publish often seems like an attack on prejudice, a search to break molds, to make people think within intimacies that are not socially undermined, and therefore people, at least those around me, feel incapable of being receptive, even though I've heard good comments about it. Facebook is the one I find most receptive, however, despite these surprises, I didn't find it pleasant. I continue to insist that it's the worst not knowing why your post, unexpectedly once again, is being sent for review, especially after someone put so much effort into such texts, because they wanted them to be pleasant, and also exposed to a general audience. I feel it's a way of harming my creativity, I have to say it this way, of making me feel insecure when it comes to publishing.

When I publish myself, I express myself, I vent, I can't go around with fears, or checking to see if my post was deleted or not. This anxiety is exhaustive, and also unfair. I revise my texts very thoroughly, and I also like that what I write is absolutely divine for the reader, and it helps me with my writing. When Facebook sends it for review, it's like feeling like my effort is completely set aside, that such divine art is spit out after having been arduously worked on. It's feeling like the platform treats what you've done in a completely dehumanizing way. Furthermore, in the groups, it appears that the administrator will review it, and they don't agree. This, well, since they and I are strangers, barely through online contact, only triggers problems; saying that Facebook played a trick sounds like an excuse.

Facebook, more than serving as a benefit for publishing and sharing content, is becoming a completely uncomfortable platform. I'd like to discover better platforms, but I also don't want to just go changing because I've already established my life there, virtually. Besides, this isn't happening because of others, but because of the platform itself. I also feel the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it, that the platform can send what I publish back for review in a completely arbitrary way, as I feel it has done with me up until now.

I've seen more than one person complaining about Facebook censorship. At the same time, I feel a sensitivity on the part of the platform that makes readings of the content extremely superficial. However, here I am considering the potential consequences of the platform's actions, but it's a futile effort. It never ceases to appear, naturally, because I am a human being. Before, I felt safe and secure on this platform, but all I feel like doing is moving to another platform, any one, just to avoid these surprises.