Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 49

i’ve been asking myself that question for a while now and i don't want to talk about that with my friends. like, i don’t do the stuff you see on tv or in movies, i’m not cutting or bleeding or anything like that. but sometimes when i get really anxious or angry or just... overwhelmed, i scratch at my arms or the back of my neck or even my legs, usually when no one’s around. i tell myself it's nothing, that it’s not serious. but then i look at my skin and it's red and sometimes raw, and i start wonderin if it does count. maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m scared to admit that something's not okay with me. cause if i admit that, then what? do i tell someone? what if they think i’m just looking for attention? what if they don’t take me seriously cause i’m not “hurting myself the right way,” if that even makes sense.

i started doing it more during exams last year. the pressure just got to me and i felt like i was gonna explode. i didn’t even think about it at first — it was just a way to deal with the stress. dig my nails in, press hard, breathe, repeat. sometimes it helped me feel like i was in control, like i could focus my brain on that instead of everything else spinning around. but then one of my friends saw a mark on my wrist and was like “dude what happened there?” and i panicked. made up a story about my cat scratching me. i don’t even have a cat. i laughed it off, and he didn’t push, but afterward i felt so ashamed. like what the hell am i doing to myself? why can’t i just deal with life like a normal person?

it’s not like my life is that bad. i mean, i got a roof over my head, food, i’m doing ok in school, my parents are around even if we don’t talk much. but i just feel... numb half the time. and then randomly i’ll feel too much, like someone plugged my brain into an amp and cranked the volume up to 100. that’s when i start scratching. i guess it’s my way of trying to feel something real, or maybe it’s just a distraction. i don’t even know anymore. sometimes i do it and then sit there staring at the red marks, thinking “wtf is wrong with me.” other times i do it and just move on like nothing happened. like it’s normal. but it’s not, right? this can’t be normal.

i googled it one night and found people asking the same question. “is scratching yourself a form of self-harm?” and the answers weren’t super clear but most said yeah, it can be. self-harm isn’t always about blood. it’s about intention. and that kinda hit me. cause even if i’m not trying to “hurt” myself, i am trying to punish myself in a way. or escape something. or maybe both. i don’t know how to talk about it tho. i don’t even know if i want help or just someone to sit with me and say “i get it.” not fix me, not judge me, just get it. cause honestly the silence in my own head is sometimes the scariest part. i keep wondering if anyone else around me is going through this and just hiding it like i am.

so yeah, maybe scratching is a form of sh. maybe it’s not about what you’re using to hurt yourself but why you're doing it. i don’t want to keep doing this forever. i want to find a better way to cope. but for now, writing this is a start, i guess. if you're reading this and you’ve done the same thing — if you’ve ever sat in your room scratching at yourself and feeling like a freak — just know you’re not alone. i’m out here too, still figuring it out. still asking the same questions. and maybe, just maybe, that means we’re not as broken as we think.

I don't feel good about what I've achieved. At the cost of scandals and failure, I've made friends, my father succumbed to giving me money, to having everyone under my thumb, and it's very unpleasant. I don't like being on top of the world. How can people find that funny? I don't find it funny at all.

They always make up any excuse to accept the fact. I mean, they do everything, they knock down expectations for whatever reason, and as a result, they fall flat. However, if it's someone who respects them, then no. They kick the guy, they do everything to him, they demean him. I was in this guy's shoes. Why? The world seems upside down.

I don't like the way things are. I went crazy with a girl, and now she's accepted me on Instagram. I was rude to a girl, and she reacted unconditionally. These are just some examples. I called my father shit, and now he's opened up. All of them in an effort to do things right, to avoid disappointing me.

Why should I make a fuss to gain respect? I don't think this is in any way a measure of self-respect; I don't like it this way. I feel like everything should have been carried out calmly, but I'm already worried that things aren't going to happen this way. On both sides, it's detrimental to my health, except that if I make a fuss, I get social approval. In other words, what I'm doing to myself becomes more unconscious.

I don't feel right. Frankly, I wasn't taught to put this into words. I was always taught to boast about it. I feel like I'm on a kind of throne from which I want to step down. I don't know how some people can tolerate being at such heights. Why do we fight to be there? It doesn't feel good at all. I feel like I'm a kind of tyrant, and justified, too. I don't know; it's a feeling that I'm being led to my own death.

When they were bad, at least they gave me the chance to escape from what was affecting my health. In this case, when they are good, the chance is smaller; I feel restrained, forced to comply, and to continue harming myself. I feel I was better off in the first case, where I saw how people, under their freedom, appreciated my respect. In this moment, when they are no longer under the same deception, I only see a downright lie, an even more selfish desire to please me. In the previous case, this is not the case.

How ironic the way things are. I, who deep down so much wanted to be one of those who had others at their feet, a whole world supporting me, find that no, that in the end, such a world is nothing more than a lie. And now that I think about it, I think it's crazy to think that there will be many who are good to you and few who aren't. I think this is a bad sign, but the opposite is true, when we act in the name of respect, justice, and also peace, which I believe not everyone knows how to navigate in such a terrain.

In short, if everyone likes us, then they're not seeing us because, in principle, not everyone has the time to see us in detail. It seems like those exceptions are miraculous because if they see us, even if it's in a detached way, in contrast to the others, it just allows them to visualize things. When a few people like us, then they do look at us, but at least they do so in profound detail, while the majority, it seems to me, usually don't see us and therefore act with a certain indifference. However, all of this is within limits; that is, I'm speaking of a good case, a case with details, of a majority that isn't violent and of a few who are so little fanatic; it can't be the other way around either. I feel that when we reach extremes, there's only so much trouble in our lives, regardless of the modus operandi of the majority and the minority.

I don't feel it's right—I'm thinking of some kids who remain distant when I greet them, and when I say goodbye, too, and I don't like that; I feel like I'm adapting to something I don't like. I feel like I'm abandoning that kid who felt others treated me unfairly. However, it seems to me to be the right thing to do because I rightly saw others' treatment as unfair when in fact it was the opposite. What else are people going to do? How many have had the opportunity to appreciate what respect is? I prefer to wander through life and find someone who, in fact, sowed such a question and reaped the same rewards. I think I should give myself the opportunity to find tremendous treasures and also give hope that it can be done to those who have been in my shoes.

I don't know why I feel like I'm thinking in a haphazard way. I can't really organize my thoughts. It just happens that I feel like there can't be a precise rule or something like that. Maybe I'm looking for ways, references, to get to know people. I feel a bit confused. I was never taught to understand how to understand Including people in my life. It was all about working with what I'd already done, with what was already there, but never forging new relationships. My parents didn't have the capacity; they scared them away. In fact, they managed to scare me away. I think my parents succeeded, or the best they could do, was to distance themselves from me, as was the case with my family in general, because I felt they wouldn't appreciate me. I don't know, I don't feel healthy, or entirely sane with these words, but well, speaking at length is a start.

I insist, everything feels confusing. I feel like maybe I'm using those filters my parents taught me to have people by my side. I feel like everything I've said, as funny as it may seem, I don't like it, I don't feel it's appropriate, but maybe it is. I don't know how to go out into the world. The successful things I have as a reference for going out into the world are people who were like a kind of wolves, perfectly selfish people who achieved great success among the masses. I feel like maybe some of that has rubbed off on me, or maybe not. I don't know, but I don't feel like I know who I am, specifically, because I feel like I haven't fulfilled my role, either with my family or with those people, but with myself.

I'm noticing that when I don't fulfill my creative goals, I don't like it; people reject it fiercely. But when I do, I feel like I don't know who I am. I don't find myself in others, and I was taught to find myself through others. By the way, I don't know when to go to a psychiatric emergency room. The thing is, there are no emergency numbers in my country, and I think that's the first thing I want to discuss with my therapist. I can't always be perfect, and I feel like I sometimes fall apart. I don't have their number and no one else to turn to. I also don't know how to manage my current situation with what I have. I know what I have is useful, but I don't know how or what things. I feel like I'm really fading precisely because of this belief that I find myself through others. Also, I don't want to create a personality, an imposed concept, because I feel it's limiting, it doesn't allow me to broaden my horizons, or well, at least not in terms of what could describe a process, a continuity.

I don't know what's happening to me, honestly. I feel like I'm more processing who I am right now, ceasing to see myself in the past.

i hate my body right now. i don't know if there's any way out besides starving myself. it's the way I was able to lose fat in the past. working out or eating healthy takes too long and too much discipline. i hate hating my body. i want to love my body. i have before. i used to be in love with it, but suddenly I get a little bit bigger on literally JUST MY WAIST AND I HAT E IT> how is that possible. how is it possible that I only grow in one spot. it's making me so upset. it's not fair. nothing else growns. my hips don't grow, my arms don't grow, my legs don't grow JUSt my waist. it's so upsetting. it's so upsetting. it's so upsetting. i just wish I could personify my torso and then hurt it. i don't want to hate any part of myself. i want to love myself as I am .

Where do I look? I don't know where to look. I confess that I have a hard time looking at myself much. I have so many things scattered throughout my life that I don't know. I confess, and I must be clear, that I've completely abandoned my life. It's true; I feel like I know nothing about myself, absolutely nothing. I don't know what conditions I live in. I feel like I'm constantly carrying all that weight. I have a hard time looking at myself. I feel like it's strange for me.

In principle, what does it mean to look at myself? I don't know. I haven't asked myself how I am for a while. I just follow a vague routine and that's it. I don't know about my life. I've never asked myself how I am with my relationships. I feel like I've neglected that because I don't nurture them; I think that's why I don't possess them, unless they really catch my attention. What is it like to look at yourself? How is everything structured? Where do I start? What does it mean to be with yourself?

I have a hard time looking inside myself because, even though I don't know, I don't know why there are so many things. I feel a sovereign distaste for such a depth. It bothers me that I can't tap into it immediately. What questions do I ask myself first? Am I good? Am I bad? Am I this or that? I have no reference to refer to myself. It's scarce. I've always been concerned with measuring myself through others, so that their comments, due to their very content, don't affect me, and that's precisely why I maintain a limiting dependence on them.

I feel like I've never reached myself. I have depth in my words, but I feel like I've never penetrated myself. I feel that, to begin with, it must be said, I'm disgusted by my life because I don't take care of my hygiene. I tend to be lazy with it because of the tiredness it causes me to go through the motions of maintaining it. I dislike it, but at the same time I like it because it allows me to live far from how I lived at home.

I feel like my life is precisely a radical escape from the life I had with my mother and father, especially during my upbringing. I had a very heavy life, and now I try to make it as light as possible, unfortunately, going to extremes, apparently. In fact, I don't even want to have clean clothes. I only live for the sake of no one noticing what's going on. Now that I think about it, the mere idea of ​​living with myself makes me hide.

Also, I feel like I wouldn't live with myself because I feel like I'd point out things about myself, highlight strange things that I don't want anyone else to see, including, apparently, me. I just let myself go and I'm not aware of what I'm doing. Deep down, I feel like I'm bathing in a deep sadness and I play with it. In a way, I feel like I'm overcoming it, challenging it, even though it's there. It's an attitude that wasn't allowed either.

I live to do what my system of rules, with which I was raised, breaks down completely. In fact, I feel like I'm still a teenager, I confess. I dislike it partly because I'm getting bored of being in constant conflict with it. I feel it's time to stop fighting that upbringing. I don't feel like it's doing me any good, and in fact, I feel like it's causing a lot of noise right now.

That is to say, I feel like I have a life, or I've reached a structure, with which I like and dislike. Again, on the terrain of rebellion. I feel like I don't know, I must say, what I really want with my life. I've reached a deep stagnation. When will I get out? I don't know, in principle, what my tastes are. I feel like I haven't fully emerged.

Nothing has come out of that struggle with my belief system yet. It used to be that it brought me tremendous benefit, however, I've reached a point where it's no longer necessary. In fact, in the environments I frequent, it's no longer necessary; rather, it's superfluous. It's become dispensable. I need to know what can emerge from this struggle, a dialectic, as they would say in philosophy.

I've reached the point of reflecting on: Who am I? I swore I had that answer a long time ago, however, I've only explored what I had to say about the things I experience, which has given me the ability to be at this point where I ask myself that question: Who am I? What do I do in this world? What purpose can I serve society? Why do I exist? Why do I spend time with the people I spend time with? Why am I alone and not accompanied? Would I be better off being accompanied than alone? Why is it worth continuing to live? I feel like I have so many questions to answer; I'd never asked myself them, and during my upbringing, they were truly unthinkable.

The one that stands out most to me now is: Why don't I pursue what I love? Right now, I see myself in the worst voices, but they come from voices that aren't mine, but rather my parents', so they aren't guiding. Why do I do what I do? I feel that, essentially, I don't have a reason for what I do, something that gives it meaning. I feel like I live without knowing why I act, what drives me, and I confess, I'm totally unaware of that. I see myself acting, simply, based on maintaining the organic relationship between things without actually going anywhere beyond that.

I think the question that plagues me right now is, and I think it encompasses everything: Where do I have to go? What is that place? What do I have to follow? I find myself without that reference. Why have I allowed myself to go so long without that reference? I don't understand. How have I been able to live without one? Now the question is: Is it a reference? Or is it admitting that no such reference exists? Personally, I think the most important thing is to unburden this area, which, in effect, I think we can talk about as an existential crisis.

Work was a little bit better today, yet I can’t see how some people think I can do everything when I’m trying to do one at a time. I know they say you can’t be in two places at once but it feels like they think I can. I know my coworkers are trying to bass especially the last few months but with summer coming in everyone’s going crazy I don’t know how I can last. Plus I don’t know if my coworkers are thinking right I’m doing what they want me to do but at the same time They are not doing much either. I’m not saying they’re their work clothes too much for them but when you have people thinking you can do everything for you it does not help. I might be whining a bit, but that’s how I feel right now.

i dont even know what i did wrong to make people hate me this much, like fr i wake up every morning already feelin sick cause i know what’s waiting for me at school, it’s like a warzone where i never get to win, i walk in and people already lookin at me like i’m some kind of freak or like i don’t belong there, nd maybe i don’t idk, maybe i’m just weird or my face looks dumb or i wear the wrong shoes or whatever stupid reason they decide is enough to mess with me every day, they say stuff under their breath when i pass by, throw little pieces of paper at me in class, call me names like loser, creep, sometimes worse and the teachers don’t even do anything about it, they just say “ignore them” like that’s gonna make it stop, like i haven’t tried that a thousand times already, and the worst part is that it’s not just random kids, some of them i used to be friends with in middle school and now they act like i’m trash, like they’d rather die than be seen talkin to me, nd it hurts so bad cause i didn’t change, they did, or maybe i changed and i just didn’t realize it, i try not to cry but sometimes i do when i get home, and even then i hide it cause my parents don’t get it either, they just say stuff like “it builds character” or “they’re jealous” but jealous of what??? i got no friends, no style, no confidence, i eat lunch alone in the corner of the cafeteria hoping no one notices me cause the last time someone did they dumped ketchup on my backpack and laughed like it was the funniest thing ever, nd i had to pretend it didn’t matter even though it totally did, like everything they do chips away at me little by little and i’m tired of pretending it’s fine, cause it’s not, and the worst part is when i try to act normal or be nice people just laugh harder, like they can smell the desperation or somethin, and i just wanna scream why are people so mean to me, what did i ever do to deserve this, i try to keep my head down, i don’t start stuff, i just wanna survive school without feeling like garbage every day, but apparently that’s too much to ask, nd sometimes i think about just disappearing, like not dying or anything extreme just… not existing for a while, like vanishing until people forget i was ever there cause at least then i wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore, like maybe in another school or another life i’d be normal and ppl wouldn’t hate me for no reason, but right now i just feel broken, like everything i do is wrong and no one wants me around, and idk how long i can keep acting like i’m ok when i’m clearly not.

It started off with a small crush—an innocent one. We started talking; she started flirting with me, and I went along with it. She saw me as an object. We fucked, looked at each other in the eyes, laughed together, laughed at each other. We call every day. She watches me eat because I have an eating disorder. We fucked again—maybe it was lust and her emotions taking over her, but it was a genuine connection to me. She started controlling what I wear and who I talk to. She’s always mad and cold towards me. She started texting me less. Her replies were always dull and distant. She hurt me. She would tell me to do things that aren’t appropriate, but whenever I say no, she guilt-trips me. She’s always the one who makes decisions for me. She started pushing me away; I tried making her stay. I was truly the happiest when I was with her. She saw me as something temporary. I thought we could’ve been something more. After fucking me, she got distant.

My mom recently told me to “save myself” and get out of my relationship — essentially, to run. Ever since, I can’t stop thinking about it.

My partner and I have been together for just over 4 years. He proposed about a year ago. We’ve had highs and lows, but now I’m wondering if the bad outweighs the good.

He has long-standing mental health struggles: specifically, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Complex PTSD, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. He’s been slowly learning to manage them better. And to be clear, I don’t think mental illness excuses poor behavior, but I do believe it adds context.

I also have my own issues — I have an anxious attachment style, and while I’ve never been formally diagnosed with anything else, I know I carry some of my own trauma.

My mom knows about some of the incidents we’ve gone through. Sometimes, when he’s triggered or overwhelmed, he shifts into a cold, mean, and distant version of himself. He feels like a different person — which makes sense, given the DID. I try my best to support him and stay patient, but when these episodes last for days, it really affects me. I stop feeling loved or even seen.

He also sometimes talks to new people — sometimes romantically, sometimes not. We’ve had an open relationship on and off because his personality changes have made consistent boundaries complicated. But it’s hard not to feel insecure or like I’m being replaced, even though he says he loves me deeply and always will.

When he shuts down, he leaves. He won’t respond to texts or calls for hours or whole evenings. During the worst of these, I’ve called my mom in tears. Once, I asked him about someone he was messaging, and he exploded. He called me stupid, said I wasn’t “evolved enough” for him, and that he needed someone who trusts and motivates him. That crushed me — I was only asking for reassurance.

After these moments, he usually comes back, apologizes, and says he’s working on changing. He’s loving again, and we go back to “normal.” But it’s a cycle. The dark side always returns.

My mom thinks this is manipulation. She says he’s using me — I pay for most of our life right now, since he’s in school. She believes he apologizes just enough to keep me around because I support him financially and emotionally. She hasn’t seen the best parts of him… but she also hasn’t seen the worst. And if she knew everything, I think she’d try to physically get me out of here.

So now I’m left wondering:

• Is he being emotionally manipulative and possibly abusive?

• Or is this just a deeply broken person doing his best and deserving patience?

• Is my mom being overprotective, or is she seeing something I’ve been too close to recognize?

I’m stuck between wanting to support the person I love and wondering if staying means abandoning myself. What would you do?

It’s been 7 months since we broke up and I still miss him. Like really miss him. And it’s not just at night when everything’s quiet and the world slows down, it’s in the randomest moments too. Like when I’m walking home and pass that pizza place we used to go to, or when a song we both loved comes on shuffle, or when I hear someone laugh that sounds like him. I swear I’ve tried everything. I deleted our pictures, muted him on socials (I couldn’t bring myself to block him yet), threw away the hoodie he left at my place… but still, he’s in my head like a ghost. I don’t wanna be that girl who’s stuck in the past, who talks about her ex like she doesn’t have anything else going on. But no matter what I do, he keeps comin back in my thoughts.

We were together for two years. And I know, that might not sound like forever, but when you're in it, it feels like forever. He wasn’t just a boyfriend—he was my best friend. The person I texted about everything, the one I wanted to see first when something good happened, or when my world was crashing down. We had inside jokes and stupid routines and all the things that make you feel like this is it, this is the person. And then suddenly, it wasn’t. We broke up because we wanted different things, or at least that’s what we told ourselves. But I think deep down it was just that he stopped trying, and I got tired of begging for effort. It wasn’t one big fight. It was a slow death.

Even though I know the relationship wasn’t healthy near the end, I still miss the good parts. The way he held me when I cried, how he remembered how I took my coffee, the little drawings he’d leave in my notebook when I wasn’t looking. And yeah, I miss the physical stuff too—his arms, his smell, the way he’d kiss my forehead when he thought I was asleep. It’s like I’m grieving someone who’s still alive, just not mine anymore. And that sucks more than anything. Cuz he’s out there, probably fine, probably moved on. And I’m still here wondering if he ever thinks about me like I think about him.

I’ve gone on a few dates since, tried to put myself back out there, but it all feels... flat. Like I’m comparing them to him without meaning to. I don’t want to do that, it’s not fair to them or to me. But my heart still has his fingerprints on it, and I don’t know how to wash them off. People keep telling me time heals, and maybe they’re right, but no one talks about what to do during the time. The hours that drag. The nights you wake up hoping it was all a dream. The urge to text him “I miss you” even though you know it’ll only make things worse. I’ve typed that message more times than I can count and deleted it every time.

So if you’re askin how to stop missing your ex, I don’t really have a perfect answer. I’m still learning. Still tryna unlearn the love I gave so freely. What I can say is… let yourself feel it. Don’t rush to fill the space with distractions or someone new. Sit with the ache, ugly cry if you need to, write letters you’ll never send. Talk about it. Get it out. But also, don’t let it define you. You’re still whole, even without them. You existed before them, and you’ll exist after. I’m starting to remember who I was before we met, and even though that girl feels far away, I’m trying to reach her again.

Some days are better than others. I still miss him, but I also miss me. The version of me that wasn’t waiting for a text, wasn’t second guessing her worth. So maybe the trick to stop missing your ex isn’t really about them. Maybe it’s about finding yourself again, piece by piece. And maybe one day, I’ll look back and smile, not because it didn’t hurt, but because I healed anyway.

Let me start with a little background. I used to live in a small town, this is where I met my best friend- let’s call her Purple cause her favorite color is purple. I’ve known her practically my whole life. Her family moved pretty far away in my 8th grade. I have since moved from this town as well in my 9th grade. But we still live really far apart. So a lot of our relationship has been over the phone. We made an effort to visit one another once a year. And we’ve been pretty good about it. In college, we became busy and not able to talk as much, but we were still besties. We have both graduated college, and while I’m working to go to grad school, she went on a mission( Mormon). And I’m proud of her for following her heart, but I have long since left the religion. It’s never been a problem in the past. And it wasn’t a problem until a few weeks ago. Cause even though we aren’t directly related, she would still call me occasionally on their P-day. This is technically against the rules. She said I was basically her sister and family and that it was fine! That made me feel really special. And so we would chat on Monday! But then one day she sent me a voice note saying we couldn’t call anymore because she felt she wasn’t progressing as a missionary and that the spirit told her she was breaking the rules. So we could only send voice notes. And I know it’s not personal- but it really hurt my feelings. I have since told her it hurt my feelings and that I’m scared we’ll grow distant if we can’t call for a year. She says it’s just as hard on her but there’s nothing she can do about it and that she still loves me and is there for me. But I can’t help but still feel like she made an ultimatum that was unnecessary between me and religion. And that I wasn’t as special anymore. I’m not sure what to do with these feelings. I know she’s not going to change her mind and I’m kinda angry at her for even doing this, but I don’t want anything to change between us. Any advice?

so I have a lil crush on my friend Katy (I swear I've vented about her too much)

today she emailed me

and...

she asked if I would want to kiss her.

I do like her, but not THAT much, like I'd be fine with a kiss on the cheek but anything else is just a no for me

I'm just not ready for that

but Idk how to say it bc I don't want to upset her...

what do I do?

So on Saturday I went to Solo and Ensemble (music event) (I GOT SUPERIOR) and when I went into the high school's gym to practice my friend W was in there. We started goofing off, and he connected his phone to my speaker I was using for my piano accompaniment and started playing a song called "Brain Implosion Energy".

I added the shortened version to my playlist and have been listening to it on loop.

BIG mistake.

It's stuck in my head.

Just imagine, talking to your friends, but your head is playing over and over: "brain implosion energy ten thousand grams of pure caffeine cuz you cant overthink if your heart stops brain implosion energy ten thousand grams of pure caffeine just drink and drink and drink until you drop I love my brain implosion juice it makes my brain go RRRRRRR" For all eternity. Just playing over and over in that high-pitched bubbly vocaloid voice.

IT'S DRIVING ME INSANE.

I've been workin at the same company for over four years now, and honestly, it still feels like I'm the odd one out. I’ve done my job, stayed late when needed, never caused any trouble, but still… something feels off. Like, when I walk into a room, conversations pause for a sec. When there’s a group lunch or afterwork drink thing, I’m always the last to hear about it—if I even hear at all. I try to tell myself it’s just in my head, but man, it keeps happening. It’s not that they’re openly rude or hostile, but there’s a vibe, you kno? Like I’m not really part of the team, just someone they have to tolerate. And the worst part is, I don’t even know what I did wrong.

I’ve tried to be nice. I smile, I say good morning, I ask people how their weekend went. Some just nod, others give half replies and walk off. Meanwhile I see them having inside jokes, sending memes in the group chat I’m barely part of, planning lunch together while I sit alone at my desk pretending not to notice. It’s draining. I’ve wondered a million times if it’s something about my face, my voice, the way I talk. Am I too quiet? Too weird? Maybe I came off as stuck-up when I first joined and now they just kept that opinion. But I swear I didn’t do anything to deserve this cold shoulder treatment. It’s like being invisible and watched at the same time.

Meetings are even worse. I’ll share an idea, and it’s like no one hears it—until someone else repeats the same thing five minutes later and suddenly it’s brilliant. I’ll send a message in the team chat, and no one replies, but the same question from someone else gets five thumbs-up and a laughing emoji. I keep my head down, keep doing the work, and still feel like I don’t belong. When there’s group work, I get picked last, like school all over again. It’s not even subtle. I once walked into the break room and heard my name—then silence. I smiled and said hey anyway, and they just mumbled and walked out. I felt so dumb standing there, pretending I didn’t feel that.

I’ve thought about leaving. So many times. But I’ve built things here. I’ve worked on good projects, had moments where I felt proud. And starting over somewhere else? Scary. What if the same thing happens there? What if it's not them—what if it’s me? That thought haunts me more than anything. Like maybe I’m just not likable. Maybe there’s something wrong with me that I can’t see but everyone else can. I try to fix things. I joined their stupid fantasy football league even though I hate it. I brought donuts on a Friday. No one even said thanks. I keep tryin and tryin, but nothing changes. It’s exhausting.

Sometimes I just wish someone would tell me the truth. Even if it hurt. Just say, “Hey, you’re too blunt” or “You don’t listen enough” or something. At least then I’d know what to work on. But this silence, this fake politeness? It’s worse. It’s like death by a thousand cuts. I don’t want to be the guy everyone avoids. I don’t want to feel like this. I’m just trying to work, to have a few decent connections, maybe a friend or two. But here I am, four years in, and I still eat lunch alone most days. So yeah, maybe people don’t like me. I wish I knew why. I really do.

Yo everyone, so I’m 21, and I’ve been with my girlfriend, Sarah, for like a year now. She’s awesome—funny, cute, and we vibe so well. But there’s this thing that’s been bugging me, and I feel kinda weird even typing it out. Sometimes, when we’re, y’know, getting intimate, she feels… loose? Like, not all the time, but enough that I’ve noticed. I ain’t trying to be a jerk or anything, I love her to death, but it’s got me wondering what’s up. Is it me? Her? Something else? I’ve been too embarassed to bring it up with her, so I figured I’d write it out here to make sense of it. Maybe someone’s got answers.

First off, I did some research—yeah, I Googled it, don’t judge. Turns out, there’s a ton of reasons this could happen. Like, women’s bodies are mad complex, and stuff like arousal, hormones, or even just where she’s at in her cycle can change how things feel down there. I read that when a girl’s super turned on, her muscles relax more, which can make things feel less tight. Sarah and I have a great time together, and she seems into it, so maybe that’s it? But then I also saw some stuff about pelvic floor muscles. Like, if they’re weak or something, it can affect tightness. I don’t know if that’s her deal, but she’s pretty active—yoga, running, all that—so I’m kinda skeptical. Still, it’s got me thinking maybe it’s just natural variation or whatever.

Then there’s the awkward part where I gotta look at myself. I ain’t no expert in the bedroom, but I’m not clueless either. Still, I wonder if I’m doing something wrong. Like, maybe I’m not getting her as excited as I think? Or maybe it’s my size or technique or whatever. I hate even thinking that, ‘cause it makes me feel like I’m not enough. Sarah’s never complained, and she seems happy, but my brain’s over here spiraling. I saw some posts online from other dudes saying they noticed the same thing, and a lot of ‘em said it’s normal, just depends on the day or the mood. But then you got those sketchy forums where guys start blaming their girls, and I’m like, nah, that ain’t it. Sarah’s amazing, and I’m not about to make this her fault.

Another thing I stumbled on was how stress or health stuff can play a role. Sarah’s in college, same as me, and she’s always juggling classes, her part-time job, and family drama. Sometimes she’s so stressed she barely sleeps. I read that stress can mess with your body in all kinda ways, including how your muscles work. Plus, she’s on birth control, and I saw that can affect lubrication or even muscle tone for some girls. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s got me wondering if it’s not about “loose” but just her body reacting to life. I feel bad even stressing about this, ‘cause she’s got so much on her plate, and here I am overthinking something that might not even be a big deal. Maybe I just need to chill and focus on making sure she’s feeling good, y’know?

At the end of the day, I love Sarah, and this ain’t gonna change that. I’m probably making it a bigger deal than it is. I mean, every time’s not gonna feel the same, right? Bodies are weird, and I’m learning that’s just how it goes. I’m thinking about talking to her about it—not like accusing her or anything, but just being real, like, “Hey, I noticed this, you ever feel different too?” I don’t wanna make her self-conscious, so I gotta figure out how to say it right. For now, I’m gonna keep being supportive and stop tripping over stuff I can’t control. If anyone’s got advice on how to bring this up without being a total idiot, I’m all ears. Love’s worth figuring this out for.

the girl i liked... said I'm like a "little sister" to her.

I don't know how to feel... i mean, this means she holds affection for me in a way, right? but it's not the way i wished it was... but i am heartbroken, how will i look at her again knowing im a "little sister"? how weird would it be for a "little sister" to tell her she's in love with her? I don't want it to be creepy, but damn!

maybe it's because im autistic? because i like to jump around, play games, collect toys and make silly little noises? i am an adult, working and paying stuff, but I'm still so childish in a way. people have told me I'm cute like this, and i thought this was a good thing... but now, i see that it might be the reason the woman i loved sees me as nothing more than a "funny little sister".

i feel so stupid. i will have to get over this, somehow, but for now i just feel stupid...