Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 41

i am an autistic, agender sapphic, and i have huge struggles with trust issues and lack of confidence in relationships. for info, im 19, never ever dated in my life, not even kissed, and for the longest time i didn't care about it at all. but recently, I've been craving some sort of intimate affection. i want someone to cuddle, kiss, share kind words and feel safe with...

but i am also extremely scared of relationships. whenever i think of connecting with someone, my mind wanders to the worst. what if my autism,(lv2) is too much for my partner to deal with, and makes her feel like she's with a "grown child"? what if my lack of expressing feelings makes the relationship underwhelming, potentially making her leave or even cheat w someone better, more "normal"? what if, because my gender identity is so confusing, i end up being replaced by someone who's either more manly or more feminine than me?

my trust issues make connecting to people even harder. it's easier for me to start disliking someone than liking, bcs I'm too aware of everything. i wanna be more open, less scared of people, but doing this might make me vulnerable, and the thought of having my vulnerability weaponized against me for whatever reason is TERRIFYING.

so, that's basically it. if anyone else feels like this, or has advice, I'd really love it! i know therapy is the ideal way but the waiting line is really big, so there's little i can do now... anyway, have a wonderful day!

so like 2 days ago my bf didn't contact me for a little over 24hrs. now, i know he had tons of work to do, but he didn't tell me when he's gonna start and be busy so i got worried a bit after not hearing from him for so long, but then he texted the next morning saying he had so much work to the point he cried and got a headache, and still have more work after that :((, the thing is, we didn't even text for like an hour and hes gone doing work again.. btw im not like saying "oh he should've texted me more" no im saying that, that less then an hour text was the only break he got :(( and now he hasn't been texting since yesterday morning.. im just scared he's overworking himself :(( idk what to do.. i also like send him lots of texts throughout the day, but not like texts begging him to text back, i just text stuff like how im thinking about him, and how i love him and how proud i am of him, and that those texts are the only way i can give him support right now :( im scared i sent too many tho.. but like i care abt him.. i don't want him to come back after tons of work to a partner who doesn't or miss him yk?.. idk im scared idk what's gonna happen there's no signs of him..... i don't want to sleep what if i miss a text message from him

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I feel terrified of going outside and being completely judged for it. I don’t like talking, I don’t like expressing myself. I don’t even feel capable of being with a girl. I don’t want to be with one. I feel like I’ve become a mess of ideas—so many ideas. Like I’m shedding layers of myself.

I feel like I’m not okay—but also that I am. I feel like I’ve been in a transformation process for a long time now. Like I’m moving toward my true self, peeling off old layers of experiences. I used to think I had matured, but really, I had just kept layering one cover over another. I don’t know how else to explain it.

It feels like I’ve been unfolding my form. This has been happening for quite some time. I think it’s because I finally feel whole in a new group. Yes, I feel like I belong—with a girl, specifically—and I love that feeling. It’s been going on for a while now, I repeat. She’s not physically present, but the way we are keeps the group alive. I don’t feel the need to be with anyone else. Being distant from her makes me feel her presence even more. I feel like I can be alone—but still in her company—and it’s truly amazing.

My parents didn’t understand this, but personally, I don’t care. The process is happening either way. These are the catharses I’m experiencing. I don’t feel like there’s anyone else out there waiting for me—and I don’t need them. I feel like my life is on track, and I can live the way I like. In this group, I feel that’s respected—and it’s fantastic. I’ve committed to pursuing a career, and I rely only on the approval of the principles this group shares.

Looking back, all that time I supposedly "got sick" or "went through somatic suffering"—I think I was really just trying to re-locate myself within this group and within the system that surrounds us. It’s like saying: I’m done with the old societal structure, with the weight of those layers. Here, in this group, we are free. Again, I don’t feel I need anyone else.

These catharses—what I say—are just to release things. I speak things about myself, but they’re temporary. It’s like I’m passing through them. I think I’m heading toward something, but I realize I only needed to shed that layer—to see that I never really wanted that thing. I don’t know, but I feel like this process I’m going through isn’t something many people experience—maybe no one. It’s about leaving behind all the groups you once belonged to. You feel like you belong to just one now, and all the others are just places you visit occasionally.

I feel like I’ve always been okay. I was never truly unwell. I just needed—without realizing it and even fooling myself—to reposition myself within society. Now I understand all the disappointment I’ve felt. I thought I wanted to be with a girl—and it turns out I don’t. Especially not one outside my group. I feel more distant from her. I don’t know what to do with those feelings I had for her. Whether she’s around or not makes no difference—same goes for her mother.

Life is happening. Nothing feels the same anymore. No one believed me—and I didn’t even need them to. I thought I had forgotten about this group. Maybe I did. But I now realize it was a version of it where she, the girl from my group, was someone who abandoned me and hurt me. And now she’s not. Being in this group makes her devoted and respectful—and I love that. Before, I felt like she was spiraling toward a nightmare that could’ve even ended her life—God forbid—with something as terrible as a knife. I hope I was wrong.

I don’t know what comes next for my life. I’ve never faced something like this. It’s all been about letting myself be carried by the current—and that’s it. Like I entered a kind of crisis only to come out the other side, finally shining. I don’t know if I wish things had been different. Probably not. I feel like I’m in a much better place now, where I’m allowed to bloom on my own terms. I didn’t feel that before. This group is about feelings, not about upholding painful old paradigms—a bitter photo album that, in my opinion, is always ugly.

It’s amazing how that other girl—the different one—has become almost a ghost to me. Hearing her mother’s distant voice, feeling how, as I got closer to them, they faded further away… it was indescribable. Psychologically, despite the distance, I feel closer to the girl in my group. And I think that’s the whole point. Because with her, I sense a real structure—something genuine. Not like in my family, where all they focused on was finding flaws. That was bitter through and through.

I feel like I’m in paradise—even though I’m still in the same house, in the same place. The people around me might be nearby physically, but they can’t really reach me. I’m a stranger to them now. Just like she, the girl in my group, is a stranger to her environment. In fact, she was already acting that way the last time I saw her in person. It’s clear now: her spirit was already with me—expressed in the way I feel so deeply supported by her.

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I feel like no one is there for me—to listen, to read me, to write to me, or even to be open to talking with me. I feel like, in my environment, I’m just an extra burden. And if that’s the case, then I feel completely pushed aside by everyone. How could I not want to look for another place? I have to face it: I don’t belong here. That’s it. I need to find somewhere else. Period.

I’m tired of my environment refusing to admit it. We’re not compatible—and we never will be. We’ve only lived causing each other headaches, acting out power struggles to avoid admitting it, but all that’s brought is war after war. It’s time for me to leave. Maybe not physically, but mentally, emotionally. I can’t take these useless conflicts anymore—they’re destroying our ability to coexist. My presence here, their acknowledgment of me, has only made life more fearful.

It’s time to go, once and for all. I feel like I have the chance, and I’m going to take it. We’ll all be safer this way. Maybe there will be a time of imbalance, but it’s either that or keep living in fear. Those who manage to get through it will be okay—and those who don’t, well... at least everyone will have searched for peace. That’s what matters most to me now—finding peace, no matter what.

There are things we have to leave behind, and ironically, that includes the place we were born. I have nothing left here—absolutely nothing. All I see is destruction and more destruction. Why keep denying it? I don’t want to be part of this anymore. I feel like I’m encouraging my relatives to become something like criminals—just as they do to each other. Luckily, we haven’t crossed the line that would get anyone arrested or reported, but we’re getting close. And that’s not the goal. I have to face it: my presence here—someone not suited to this environment—is just harmful. I can’t deny that anymore.

There’s nothing more painful for me than realizing I’ve been a source of harm and pain. And the worst part is, I couldn’t do anything before—but now I feel like I can. And I’m proud of that. I can give everyone a calmer life. Yes, let’s admit it—they’ll be better off without me here. I’ll be better off leaving, because in doing so, I’ll have truly supported them. I’ll be repaying everything they’ve done for me. It’s the greatest thank-you I can offer—the most meaningful one. What good are gifts or fake kindness? They don’t help anymore. People feel it, even if they don’t realize it.

I feel like I’m fulfilling a moral obligation, in the end. A civic duty, even—one that supports a healthier society, whether that means staying or stepping away. It’s what I have to do.

What hurts, though, is realizing that the solution to my problems with this environment isn’t in the environment itself—it’s somewhere else. I wish it were here, so I could embrace that resolution and feel proud of it. But the truth is, it never was. Trying to force that belief only led to disaster. It’s what brought us to this point—where we hate each other, deeply. All because we tried to stay. We have to face it: this environment is filled with disconnected people who pretend to bond just to deny the truth. There’s nothing between us. There never was—barely even between parents and children.

I wish it had been different. I always believed that teamwork was the answer. But the problem is... there’s no team. You can’t count on something that doesn’t exist.

Why did this life have to be mine? Why couldn’t this have happened to someone else? Why live with this discouragement? Why does this transition have to be like this? Why do I have to leave this environment just like that? And yet—it feels like inertia. My mind just goes there... because there’s more calm. That’s it. I think deep down, that’s what we’re all searching for—peace and calm. And in a way, my own environment has pushed me toward it. It’s something that’s just out of everyone’s hands.

Then come the questions:

What will I live in that new environment? Will they try to change me? Will I become someone else? Will I forget the place I came from? What will happen to them once I’m gone?

There’s so much I can’t control. I just know this: I’m in transition—and I never thought it would be like this.

I always thought the hardest part of my journey was behind me. All those late-night study sessions, the coffee-fueled exams, the internships, the pressure to graduate with honors—I thought once I stepped into the "real world," everything would finally make sense. But here I am, a year into my first real job, and I've never felt more lost or unmotivated in my entire life.

Back in college, I was the person everyone pointed to as the success story. The one professors used as an example, the one my friends admired. I thrived on deadlines, feedback, and clear expectations. Everything was structured, and I knew exactly how to succeed. Now, I sit at my desk, staring blankly at my laptop, wondering if this is really all there is.

When I landed this job, I was over the moon. Everyone congratulated me, told me how proud they were. I believed this would be the beginning of something amazing—a chance to finally prove myself. But the reality has been crushingly different. My work feels meaningless, just endless emails, pointless meetings, and tasks that seem disconnected from any bigger purpose. I spend most days feeling invisible, like just another cog in a machine no one cares about.

I don't think I'm lazy, or at least I never used to be. But lately, it's like all my drive just disappeared overnight. Getting out of bed feels impossible some mornings. I used to wake up excited about the day ahead, ready to tackle challenges and prove myself. Now, I hit snooze repeatedly, dreading the moment I have to log in and pretend to be engaged in work that doesn't excite me at all.

I've tried talking to friends and family about this, but most of them say things like, "Welcome to adult life," or "Everyone hates their first job." But is it really supposed to feel this empty? Is this what I've worked so hard for, just to feel drained and purposless every day?

I keep wondering if maybe I chose the wrong career, or if I was naive to believe I'd find fulfillment right away. The scary part is, I don't even know what else I would do. I've spent my entire life on this path, convinced it was the right one. And now I'm terrified that I'll always feel this way, stuck in a cycle of dread, disappointment, and total lack of motivation.

I wish I knew how to fix this, how to regain the passion and confidence I once had. Maybe it's just a phase, or maybe I need a change. All I know is that this feeling—this heavy, numb sense of "what's the point?"—isn't how I want to spend the rest of my career. I just wish someone would tell me how to get my spark back. Until then, I'm just here, drifting through days, wondering how someone who once felt unstoppable now feels so utterly unmotivated.

So... I can no longer cry.

I used to cry as much as a normal kid, but my parents (my mum specifically) started yelling at me for crying. When my brother and I would argue, she always took his side even if he was arguing that 2+2=8 then yell at me. When i started crying after ~15-30 mins of her straight screaming at me, she would tell me that "crying is going to get you nowhere so be quiet" and that "there is no reason for you to be crying because you're in the wrong. you are going to get in more trouble after this if you keep this up". and so on. those were some of the lighter ones but you get the picture. she would tell me that crying was useless and weak and that it would get me nowhere. i started coming up with little ways to slow it down like holding my breath and blurring my eyes without letting the tears fall, or even running to the bathroom, wiping my eyes and coming back out. BTW, i was 5. then by the time i had learned to control my tears completely (at around 8) i started getting angrier easily as a way of coping. ofc my parents got mad for that even more than crying so now i'm almost emotionless. when my mum yells at me she now gets upset because i don't react. i will remain completely calm as if i dont gaf, then my mum will give up and my dad will get mad at me for not reacting.

this all seems good except for the fact that now when i am deppressed, i can't let it out at all. it is worse than you'd expect. basically, i feel everything worse but don't show it. it just goes into an invisible jar with everything else i've stored over the years. i'm 12 now and i sriously don't know what to do right now. on top of a whole lot of other things i hae going on rn, this is getting too much, even for me. and i don't crack.

is this normal or what bcz all my friends can cry. does anyone have any solution or any ideas? im trying here.

luv you guys and thanks for reading this ik its alot.

Hey... this is gonna be tough to say.

TW // talk about rape

so... my partner, K, has been raped a few times in her life. I understand it to a degree, having been sa'd multiple times and raped once myself, but I can't seem to silence my thoughts. Whenever I am alone thinking, I for some reason start to think about the fact that she was raped, and I get urges to ask for descriptive details about them, things like who it was, what their relation was to her, where it happened, how it happened, what they did, basically things that should never be asked. I am not necessarily afraid that I am going to slip up and end up asking them, but I'm worried where they come from, because it feels almost like i want to know the details so i can imagine myself in that situation. Almost like I want to have lived her life and experienced all the good and bad she's been through and its kind of eating me up. I can't seem to understand why i want to be her so badly.

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I feel like I’m going to lose my mind, friends. I’m not acting normal. I feel like I’m about to interact with a girl, and I’m going crazy. I don’t want to come off like this—with all this anxiety. I live alone, dear friends, and I don’t want to give her or her family a bad impression of people who live this way.

If she’s going to be with me—which I don’t even know why I’m saying that, considering we’ve barely spoken—I don’t want her to think of me like that. I believe people who live alone deserve respect, and often, we don’t get it. That’s been my experience—people have taken advantage of me, played games with me, even tried to invade my space. It’s awful. You feel like the whole world is trying to mess with your life. Like everyone wants to change you. It’s deeply uncomfortable, friends.

I don’t want to go to her house and have her or her family try to change me. I don’t want anyone to try to mold my life to fit theirs—to make things easier for them—or treat me like some kind of servant or tool. People have tried that with me before, and it was horrible. I just want a peaceful life. I want a calm existence where I can be who I truly am.

I’m scared to take a risk with this girl. I’m really afraid. So many people have tried to change me before. I don’t want to alter my habits or give up my solitude. I just want to be left in peace. I feel like I’ve suffered too much, and I’m fed up. I also feel like this girl has reached a breaking point too—that she might have once been very rigid with people like me, but now she’s trying to open up because she’s had enough of that way of being.

As for me, I feel like I’m trying to open up to a girl—with everything I have—while also being precise in how I go about it. I don’t want to lose myself or make her lose herself either. I want to get it right. I’m tired of being alone, of not having a partner. I say it honestly and without shame: I need to be accepted as I am. But I don’t want submission—I want mutual support. I don’t want to be a burden to her.

I don’t know. But I get the feeling we’re all going through this. I feel like her family and mine—and both of us—are all slowly adapting to the idea that we’re different, but we want to be together. We feel like we’re on the right path. We want to be accepted, yes—but not at the cost of losing who we are. We want to support each other while staying ourselves. I think everyone deserves that, friends. We all deserve something that lets us be ourselves in peace—something that helps us grow, something that inspires us to develop the parts the other is missing, to complement each other. Maybe I’m rambling, but I think it makes sense.

I believe—and I don’t know why I’m saying this so directly—but I think that in this family (yes, I’m including myself now), we all want peace and calm. To coexist with what’s different from us, and to have that difference also want to coexist with us. No more fighting, no more closed-mindedness. That’s what we want. And honestly, it’s what’s always drawn us to each other. Why keep denying it? Saying it’s “wrong” just makes you feel like you’re the one who’s wrong. I think in that very difference is where we fit. And we just need to learn how to handle this. Expression—venting—is the key that opens the door.

Also, friends, I want a relationship where—please, God—we can be together, grow together, and talk openly with others about that growth. A relationship that lets us develop ideas, share them with confidence and ease. I’m tired—we’re all tired—of being stuck in situations only we can understand. We want something normal, something that helps us move through society, stay connected, feel supported, and not be cut off by the world’s rejection. Maybe we share common experiences, but now is the time to leave them behind. We’ve had enough. I truly think this experience is good for all of us. It’s a breath of fresh air.

I feel like this girl and I want to be together—and that we deserve to be. Look, there was only one time we sat together and couldn’t talk, didn’t know what to say. We felt distant, and it was awful—unbearable. That can’t happen again. We deserve better. We’re ready to be in a space that supports us, stays close, and wants to understand us as we are. We understand our parents’ needs, but we can’t carry them anymore. It’s too much.

We’ve been carrying far too much for far too long. It’s time for a new beginning—with new people who inspire us to be ourselves. To feel welcomed, and supported, both by ourselves and by others. No more fading into someone else. Enough of that. I have to say it: I feel like this girl and I love each other. And I think both our families are finally ready—and willing—to understand that. Why keep fighting about relationships? No more.

We all just want a peaceful life. Let those who need to walk away do so. It’s time to feel safe—and welcomed. Honestly, I think we’re all going through the same thing. I think her family, her mother, my father, and I—we all feel like the world around us isn’t made for us. I believe this new union is meant to happen.

And wish it'd been an actual bicycle instead. I'm a bisexual man living in an authoritarian homophobic country. A few years ago I experienced a heart-shattering breakup, as my only soulmate and only physical relationship I've had (a girl) left me over something stupid I did (got expelled from university and hid it from her; it was more the broken trust aspect of it to her than anything). I hadn't been a very happy man before that either. All my life I've felt isolated and alienated, being bisexual, overly sensitive, overweight, nerdy, introverted, and teetotal. I grew a thick shell around me to silence my inner child/core being and reduce the sensitiveness, and it worked. But it turned out that love brings it all back out, the good and the bad.

My soulmate was the only person I've ever felt a deep connection to, who felt like someone who really understood me or at least parts of me better than anyone could. With her gone, and most of my immediate family dead to cancer, Alzheimer's, heart attacks and whatnot, I was at a complete loss. I retreated back into my shell, and it was all extinguished again, the good and the bad. My capacity for tender, genuine love - which she'd been surprised greatly by, only knowing me as the sarcastic jester - and my oversensitivity, which sometimes caused me to read too much into some poorly communicated words or actions. I was in great pain for a few months and slept a lot, until the death throes ceased, and I went back to this bland apathetic existence of a dead inside sarcastic cynic.

Until a few days ago, when it felt like some kind of other person took control of my body. I'd been noticing it for a while, the ever-increasing buildup inside of me towards homosexual attraction. While normally I was more interested in women, I'd been noticing more and more attraction to men these last years. It lasted longer than usual and felt much stronger. And finally, something within broke and gave in to the urges. I found the two biggest underground resources for gay dating that still remained in my country and posted a profile there. I knew it was stupid, with every ounce of my rationality remaining, but I couldn't help but watch from the sidelines as the other me was overtaken by the fantasy of someone replying to my profile, and me getting to kiss a boy for the first time in my life...

But of course, nothing happened. I know, I know, it's even dumber to expect results in just a few days. However, there are a few things you can't escape from. A few people left comments like "well damn" and "pfft, good luck with that". I also met a guy online who is, unlike me, young and thin and feminine, and using those same resources, he struggled to find love for years, because apparently most people just want an ONS or FWB. If he didn't have a chance, what could I possibly hope for? Look at them, so young and pretty, most of them attracted to each other. Even if some of them want genuine love, what do I bring to the table? An unemployed overweight loser with a crappy apartment, approaching 30. I felt creepy, and sick, and like an abomination. Who cares that you want to kiss a boy and hold him forever and tell him how precious and sweet he is. Who do you think you are to deserve that?

I spent the entirety of yesterday in feverish, sleepy anxiety, so reminiscent of the worst days of my depression, and eventually went to sleep early and slept for 12 hours. I felt better the next day, sleep does help, but some fear, anxiety, and disgust was still there. People who hear my story always tell me how strong I am that I carry on despite everything. Bullshit. I've never felt strong. I just have extreme thanatophobia and anhedonia, not to mention being teetotal, so it looks like I'm strong from the outside. Still alive, and not drunk in a ditch, what more could you ask for. So don't worry, dear reader. I'm not gonna go and off myself after this - Death does not deserve such a gift, and never has, especially after all it's taken from me. But I do feel a part of myself dying again. Love and desire and the desperate scream of a child who didn't get to grow up properly and who's more touch starved than a pharaoh's mummy slowly evaporating and drowning out. Come tomorrow, I will be a functioning adult again. A husk of a man in reality.

Despite this, I will continue to do what I can to improve myself, of course. I will try to shut up my anxiety attacks, clean up the most used areas of my apartment to the best of my ability, and even eat less and go at it on my newly bought exercise bike - a poor man's Ozempic called willpower, that I'd always been sorely lacking, but anhedonia makes it much easier. Maybe, just maybe, years later, when I'm yet older, I'll have a chance to try again. Maybe I'll have a better body and financial situation. I don't know if I'll want to try. I'm so fucking scared to end up like Stephen Fry and start dating again when I'm already 57 or something. And I feel sick to the bone at the cruelty of this world, for putting me in a body full of desires that can't be fulfilled and fears that can't be avoided. Whatever. Life is unfair. Come nightfall, and take it all away. Shed a tear for me, dear reader - mine have dried up a long time ago.

MY STUPID "FRIEND" IS DEATH STARING ME. HE'S BEEN DEATH STARING ME ALL DAY. IT'S NOT ENOUGH THAT HE WON'T TALK TO ME HE ALSO HAS TO LOOK AT ME LIKE I KILLED HIS DOG OR SOMETHING. WHAT DID I DO. WHY IS HE DEATH STARING ME.

honestly, idk how i even got here. i remember bein little and my parents tellin everyone how great i was gonna be, how i was the future star, how i was totally gonna make it big and get a scholarship for sports. they always said it so proud, u kno? like they just KNEW i was gonna be somebody special. i used to believe em too, cuz like why wouldn't i? theyre my parents, right? they always seemed to know everythin. but now im 17, bout to finish highschool and the truth is i aint good enough. like i tried, i swear i tried so hard, practice every single day, pushin myself, stayin late after practice when everyone else left, but i never got faster, never got stronger, never became the athlete everyone thought id become. now the letters from colleges never came. the scouts stopped comin to the games. and its like i let everyone down so hard that i cant even look em in the eye anymore.

my parents are straight up mean now. its like since they realized im not gonna get that scholarship, im worthless. they barely talk to me anymore, unless its to yell at me or remind me how much time and money they "wasted" on me. i mean, i kno they did sacrifice a lot, im not stupid, i kno that equipment and travel and camps cost money and they spent so much on me, but like… idk man, was that the only reason they cared? did they just want some kinda trophy kid they could brag about to their friends? cuz now its like theyre ashamed of me or sumthin. dinner at our house is silent. if i try talkin, they either ignore me or give me short answers. my dad used to come to every game, now he acts like its a burden to even look at me. my mom cries sometimes but not like she sad for me, more like shes embarrassed of me. its like im not their kid anymore, just some failure that lives under their roof.

the worst part is that i actually started believin them. like when they first started sayin stuff like how im lazy or not tryin hard enough, i fought back, i argued, told em i was doin my best. but now im thinkin maybe theyre right. maybe i didnt push myself as hard as i couldve. maybe if id stayed longer, ran faster, lifted more weights, maybe id actually be worth somethin. the coaches stopped givin me special attention cuz i wasnt improvin like other guys on the team. my teammates still cool to me, but i feel like they pity me or sumthin, like im the guy who almost made it but didnt. i feel like everyone looks at me differently now. im not that guy everyone cheered for, im the guy they feel sorry for, the guy who couldnt deliver. the guy who let everyone down. honestly, it hurts more than anything else cuz i used to be so confident. i used to walk on the field thinkin i was gonna show everyone how great i was. now, i walk on the field wishin i could just disappear.

every day now feels heavy. like i wake up and dread havin to go downstairs and see the disappointment on my parents faces again. i dread goin to school cuz ppl still ask bout college and scholarships and i gotta keep makin up excuses why i didnt get one yet. some days i just wanna quit everythin and hide in my room forever. my grades slipped too cuz i spent all my time tryna be a better athlete instead of studyin, thinkin sports was gonna carry me. now i dont got good grades, i dont got a scholarship, and i feel stuck. like my whole future just vanished and i got nowhere to go. its scary, man. i had it all planned out. everyone else had it planned out for me too. now im just floatin around wonderin what im supposed to do next.

i kno ppl say life aint over at 17, that theres more out there, more opportunities or whatever. but its hard to believe that right now. its hard to feel hopeful when ur own parents look at u like ur their biggest mistake. i never wanted to disappoint anyone, especially not them. they always told me sports was gonna be my ticket to a better life. now i got no ticket, just a bunch of broken dreams. i wanna believe it gets better, i wanna believe someday theyll forgive me for not bein who they wanted me to be, and that ill forgive myself for not bein who i thought id become. but right now, i just feel like a total failure. i guess all i can do is hope someday i stop feelin this way, cuz honestly it sucks, and i wish i knew how to fix it.

My best friend recently just changed out of nowhere and now I think she hates me. I asked her if she was fine when we were walking to class and she just snapped at me. And once I asked her to be in a group with us for a project with some other friends and she said yes so I was surprised that she wasn’t going with her other good friend and she was like “do you not want me in your group?” Am I js overthinking or does she not wanna be friends anymore?

I never thought I'd be someone who would complain about havin too much support from her parents. Honestly, most people would probably envy my situation, havin grandparents so involved and present. But lately, I swear it feels like they're takin over my house and my life. My husband and I just had our first baby—a beautiful little girl—and we thought havin my parents around would be the biggest blessing. But now, I find myself constantly frustrated, anxious, and overwhelmed. My parents have always been loving, but now they've turned into helicopter grandparents, hovering over every little thing we do. From how we hold our baby to the way we wash bottles, every single decision seems to need their approval. At first, I thought it was sweet, them wanting to help and be involved, but it quickly became clear that it's way too much. Like, seriously, do they really need to rearrange my kitchen cabinets because "it makes more sense" their way? Or constantly tell us we're dressing our daughter wrong, feeding her too often, or not enough? I mean, don't get me wrong—I appreciate that they're here for us, but it’s starting to feel like they're forgetting this is our child, our house, and our life.

The biggest issue, though, is that they're always popping over unannounced. I'll be sittin on the couch, exhausted after finally getting my baby down for a nap, and suddenly I hear the front door open and my parents stroll in like they own the place. No call, no text, nothing. They just assume that because we're family, boundaries don't exist. My husband tries to be patient, bless his heart, but I can see it wearing on him, too. The other day, they walked right into our bedroom to "check on the baby," completely ignoring that we were both still asleep. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and honestly disrespectful, even though I know they mean well. Every time I try to gently bring it up, my mom acts hurt, like I'm rejecting her help or saying she's a bad grandmother. My dad just gets defensive, claiming they're only trying to make things easier on us. But how can I tell them that they're actually making things so much harder? I don't wanna hurt their feelings—I love them dearly—but I'm an adult now, and I deserve to have my own space, my own rules, and my own way of doing things.

Setting boundaries with my parents feels harder than I ever imagined. I always pictured us being a big happy family, but this constant invasion of our privacy is straining everything. So how do you even start setting boundaries with parents who don't think they need them? I've realized it's gotta be about clear communication. I know it sounds obvious, but it's honestly terrifying to think of sitting them down and saying, "Look, we need some space." But I also know that if I don't speak up, it's never gonna get better. So, I'm planning to have an honest conversation soon—just me, my husband, and my parents. I need them to understand it's not about rejecting their love or pushing them away, it's about respecting the fact that we're our own little family unit now, with our own routines and preferences. I have to find a gentle way to say that while their intentions are great, their actions sometimes cross the line. Maybe I can suggest specific times they can come over, or ask them to call before they visit. Maybe setting certain tasks aside specifically for them, like babysitting once a week or family dinners every Sunday, will help them feel involved without overstepping. It's not gonna be easy, and I fully expect some hurt feelings and awkwardness at first. But setting boundaries isn't about hurting relationships—it's about protecting them. I believe my parents love us enough to eventually understand, even if it's painful at first. All I know is, if I don't start setting these boundaries now, I might end up resenting the people I love most—and that's something I refuse to let happen.

Growing up, I never really knew there was a name for what my parents were. I just knew that somethin was off. Other kids talked about their moms and dads like they were these safe places, comfort zones, u kno? Mine weren’t. My parents were more like actors on a stage, and I was the audience they needed applause from constantly. Everything revolved around them—their feelings, their needs, their dreams. If they had a bad day, it was my fault. If they fought, somehow that landed on me too. I learned early to keep quiet, to keep my own feelings hidden, cause whenever I tried to express them, I got shut down quick. It was always, “How could u say that after everything we’ve done for u?” Or my personal favorite, “You’re so selfish.” For a long time, I actually believed that. I thought that maybe I really was selfish for wanting my own feelings to matter. And it’s taken years, and a whole lotta therapy to finally realize that wanting to be heard doesn’t make me selfish—it makes me human.

It’s funny tho, lookin back, cause when I was little I just assumed every house was like mine. That every kid walked on eggshells tryin not to upset their parents. I thought every mom was dramatic and cried easily, making you feel guilty for even existin. I thought every dad was overly critical, pickin apart every mistake, remindin you constantly how lucky you were that he even bothered to feed and clothe you. It wasn’t till I started spendin more time at my friends’ houses that I realized something was seriously messed up at mine. Their parents listened to them. Like really listened. When my friends spoke, their parents didn’t just wait for their turn to talk—they actually heard them. And when they messed up, they got hugged, comforted, reassured. Not shamed or belittled. The more I saw that, the more confused and honestly jealous I became. I wondered what it felt like to grow up without fear, without that constant anxiety in your gut tellin u that ur feelings weren’t important, that ur only job was to make sure your parents were happy, even if it meant hiding who you really were.

As I got older, it didn’t get easier. In some ways it got harder. Teen years are supposed to be when you figure out who u are, but that was nearly impossible in a house ruled by narcissists. Any attempt at independence was treated like a personal betrayal. My mom would cry, sayin I didn’t love her anymore. My dad would get cold and distant, like I’d deeply offended him just by having an opinion of my own. I learned to live a double life—one version for home, the other for school and friends. But the exhaustion of it was brutal. I felt like an actor too, just like them, pretendin to be okay, pretendin everything was fine. Even when I left home and went to college, the damage was already done. I struggled to form healthy relationships. I kept waitin for friends or boyfriends to turn on me, to blame me for things, to tell me my feelings weren’t valid. And sometimes they did, cause I guess I subconsciously chose people who were familiar—people who acted like my parents. Breaking that cycle felt almost impossible. I kept wonderin if maybe my parents were right, maybe I really was just impossible to love or deeply flawed somehow.

But here’s the thing: eventually, I found people who showed me different. I found therapy. I found books and podcasts that made me realize I wasn’t alone, that being raised by narcissists wasn’t my fault, and most importantly, that it didn’t have to define me forever. Slowly, I started settin boundaries. Slowly, I learned to say no without feelin guilty. Slowly, I started believin that my feelings mattered just as much as anyone else’s. It's still hard sometimes. There’s still days when the old voices creep back in, tellin me I’m not good enough or that I’m selfish for thinkin of myself. But now I kno those voices are lies. Now I kno my worth isn’t defined by anyone else's approval, especially not theirs. I won’t pretend it’s been easy—cause it hasn’t. Healing from parents like mine is messy, complicated, and takes longer than anyone wants to admit. But it’s possible. It’s happening. And every day I feel a lil bit more free. I might’ve been raised by narcissists, but I don’t have to live the rest of my life under their shadow. I’m finally learnin to step into the light—my own light. And damn, it feels good.

I'm tired of not being recognized. Nobody pays attention to me nor acknowledges my existence properly.

I tried other sites to vent, but nobody responded or even let me speak. It feels like there’s nothing special about me anymore. I don’t feel unique, and I need someone to make me feel alive, to make me feel like I’m worth something.

It became overwhelming, and I started to feel a profound sense of desperation, crying uncontrollably. I want someone to acknowledge me, but there are no people, no topics to talk about, and nothing about me that seems interesting.

I almost gave into SH again after months of not doing it; but with all my will, I made it into cold water before that happened. It wasn't even enough... Well, whatever. I'm now here

I guess it’s just me and my past regrets. I’ve come to realize that most people either act like it never happened or talk to someone else to share their sorrow, and somehow that works for them. So, I'm probably just another idiot.