Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 59

I've been in a constant state of fight or flight, honestly I've been in crisis, since the election. I'm disabled, trans and intersex, other flavors of 'undesirable' in the eyes of the government. I was close to taking my life and writing hotlines pretty much everyday sobbing my eyes out. My psychiatrist said if I refused to be hospitalized (I did) then we were down to Spravato and Electroconvulsive Therapy... Yes, she basically said the only solution was nasal spray ketamine or electroshock. I wish I was joking. I'm allergic to so much that these three things were my only option left. Are my only option, but I'm just done. No. I refuse it all.

There's a decent chance ALL healthcare might be taken away from me soon anyhow.

I decided to give Spravato a try, I was really, really hoping it would work. It didn't. My blood pressure shot up so high I almost had to go to the ER, I couldn't stop panicking and crying, I almost threw up multiple times. I am familiar with dissociation, it's a horrendous feeling I get sadly often, but I can tell the... Cycle of it? I suppose? As in, even when dissociating or having derealization, I can tell when it's at it's worst and when it's staring to wane. With Spravato, not so, it was two hours of being at the worst part of all my dissociative episodes and panic attacks at once with no reprieve. Closing my eyes made it worse, I couldn't even try to sleep to get through it, I had so many nurses coming in and out. A random man who was there also getting Spravato himself came in and tried to talk me and my mother through it and reassure us that sometimes that that even still happened to him. I can remember the talking, but it's more like I'm looking back on a movie I watched, not something I witnessed. All that felt like it was me in that moment was the fear. Nausea. My heart wanting to break through my ribcage, the pain of each heartbeat, rattling in my brain of memories and thoughts both that I couldn't differentiate among other things. It was just too much.

Finally, finally after two hours it started to let up, they took my blood pressure and since it wasn't at a concerning level (it was not normal still but not medically concerning? I think?) I was allowed to come home. I almost threw up multiple times on the ride home.

I was essentially sedated for three or four days after, too tired to tell what I was feeling but knowing I wasn't happy or okay, just too tired to cry or panic anymore. My heart kept beating funny off and on, though, I kept getting chest pain off and on. It's still happening off and on and it's been a few weeks. I'm scared it permanently damaged my heart, I already have so much going on, I can't do it.

All therapeutic effects it had are gone, all the fear and grief and dread and pain are back in full force, my family is trying to convince me to try it again and I refuse. My mother told me, essentially, she liked me better sedated. My pain, my fear for my life under this regime in America with so much being taken away from me (after being attacked just getting groceries two weeks after the election by the way), is an inconvenience so I need to just "be normal."

I can't help but wonder if there's hidden meaning behind "be normal." I could get into the why, I could get into my whole life story leading up to this of medical malpractice, but I won't. It's too much. There's so much I need and want to say but what's even the point?

I suppose I'll end this with something that happened a few days ago that's still hurting me, that was my reason to coming to this site again. I still don't really know how it works, if you can see my other post, but it's pertinent to this if you can. I tried one more time, one more time to reach out to someone to help me, give me help feasible for me with all of my limitations. Admittedly, getting a bit angry, because all the "advice" given even when I explained my situation was things I couldn't do. I tried explaining again, and it was turned back on me. I'm apparently a fascist for saying poor, disabled, non-white and intersex people are being left out of people's consideration when giving queer (especially trans) Americans help or instructions to help themselves. I was apparently posting "fascist bait" and somehow I'm also a Nazi? I don't even know. All I said was that I needed help, I just needed some steps given to me to take to try and get myself safe, to a better place. Then, got frustrated, and said their advice wasn't even advice for me or many others in my situation. It felt like dismissal and a "welp not my problem- figure it out!" and I said so. I said that people need to stop leaving the most vulnerable of the lgbtqia2p community in the dust and this girl got four other people to gang up on me.

I give up. I deleted all social media, I feel hopeless but won't write Trevor or 988, no one wants to help me. No one who can will, because I'm "not valuable" enough. Not to another country, not even to a blue state, nothing at all. I need too much help, have too many targets on my back, and have the nerve to point out that people are pulling the ladder up behind them once they get theirs and seeing certain parts of the community in the dust. Even some trans people are, mainly those of us that are poor and or disabled, intersex and or non-white. Of which I am all of.

And now I sit here alone, sad, thinking about everything and wishing I could close my eyes and wake up anybody else tomorrow. Wake up and find out this was all just a bad dream.

No, I'm not going to do anything to myself, I'm just so tired. If you can see people's past posts on here, again, what I said before sort of gives more context but even with both these two posts it's not everything going on with me.

Goodnight, I guess.

I have no ambition. I like to be with my electronics so no one can bother me no one can tell me what to do because what’s the point. I loose motivation for any new thing that I do. I’m almost 20 years old and still living with my parents. I want to move out but even I don’t feel like I can. I want to talk to a friend but I’m nervous and no matter what I do I can never escape the nervousness. I know this seems out of place but I just need to vent. Because at this point I’m just lost

My husband has always had custody of his son. I came in the picture when he was 1 years old. Bio mom shows her face a few times a year. Normally on holidays when she likes to throw a fuss that she IS the mother and deserves to see/have him for holidays but otherwise doesn't bother with him any other time. Just for back story she has never worked, never provided for the child in any way, has never bought clothing or furniture or anything of the sort for my son. She also has another kid about 9 months younger than my son. And amongst a plethora of other issues, she will occasionally DEMAND hand-me-downs from my son because her other child "deserves them"/"deserves to feel close to his brother." To the point of questioning me when i list up things on Facebook market place as to why I am doing that and not just giving her the things. Or when I list them on freecycle again throwing a tantrum that they were not offered to her first . When he does outgrow toys that were given to him by her (which doesn't happen often because they are usually cheap and break before that can happen) they are offered back to her. But seeing as how my husband, his family, my family or myself solely support my son's every want and need i feel it is within my right to do whatever I want with what is ours and think it is ridiculous she thinks she has a right to them in any way.

(18, job program student)

My horticulture teacher has been sharing emotional things that we don't need to hear about, and it's been pissing me off and making me uncomfortable. It's not directly at us, it's over our heads and to the assistant that she's comfortable with, but she says things like:

"Does a blow to your self-esteem,"

"Nothings keeping me here."

Among other things she'd openly vent about that would give me a weird gut feeling. Catering to an adult's emotions has been emotionally triggering for me (30s or 40s+ specifically). I don't say anything to give advice to her or make her feel better whatsoever, I'm more inclined to tell her to STFU. She wouldn't go out in full paragraphs, just a sentence or a few words.

I've thought about reporting it, but I value the good relationship I have w/ her. And it would make things awkward and I feel like it would heavily embarrass her - but she done something wrong, I don't really need to give a full shit.

I think I might say something directly to her to keep things to herself, like "Can you keep these things to yourself?" I'd see it at something far better and quicker.

I've already had an incident where an assistant (who doesn't cater to me anymore) said that whenever I left early, they don't get paid as much in a day. I had a full-blown, horrible moral OCD panic attack that same night. He got scolded by 3 people (an ex-worker and 2 staff) when the news broke out, possibly even more

I'm not responsible for their feelings. I'm not responsible for their paychecks. I'm not responsible for their consequences that are set against them. I've been doing my best to reassure myself of that.

The best outcome is that she never vents in class again and I don't need to say a thing.

When I come to the U.S., I was only 8 years old. My mom and dad bring me and my little sister from Mexico, saying we gonna have better life, better future. I believe them, I really do. But now, I am 26, and sometimes, I still don’t feel like I belong here. I do everything like American people—I go school here, I work here, I even speak English good (okay, not perfect, but good enough, I think). But still, when people look at me, I know they see different. They ask me, "Where you from?" and when I say, "Oh, I grew up here," they just look at me like they don’t believe me. Like I have to explain more. Sometimes I say, "I’m from Mexico," just to make it easy, but then they ask, "Oh, so you not American?" And I don’t know what to say. What I am? I am both. But also, maybe neither.

Life as first generation immigrant is... weird. I grow up in house where everything is Mexican—food, music, telenovelas, my parents speaking Spanish all the time. But outside, everything is American. I go to school, and kids make fun of my lunch because it smell “weird.” Teachers say my name wrong, so I stop correcting them. I try so hard to fit in, but at home, my mom tell me, "No te olvides de dónde vienes." Don’t forget where you come from. And I try, but sometimes I feel like I am too Mexican for Americans, but too American for Mexicans. I go back to visit family in Mexico, and my cousins laugh at my Spanish. "Hablas como gringo," they say. They right, I guess. But then here, people tell me, "Wow, your English is so good!" like they surprise. So, what am I? Where do I belong? I don’t know. And maybe, I never will.

I'm a 20-year-old woman and im living with my parents while at collage since I can't afford a place to live also i live not that far from it. I love my stepfather a lot, he's been there in my life more that my biological father, which I am forever grateful. But sometimes his anger when i do some wrong, thinking i said something and i said something else or forget things, is too much. When I was younger, living with him, I was crying all the time because of how he screamed at me. Like i think i developed so many insecurity and anxiety of it. Now that I am older and talked to him about it, he always says “That is how i always talk, you should be used to it by now" And i am used to it im so numbed by it i just cry and block out whatever he says really even though i get that hes genuine criticizing me. I think he's frustrated of staying at home and not working and our economic troubles, that's why I try to help with paying stuff.

Sorry for the writing im just exhausted also I've made a routine of doing chores at the house so he doesn't call me out on it again. Then he comes and says, "why you always act like a robot”

Also, English is not my first language so there's might be some inconsistencies there's more i want to say but i have to do some assignments bye <3

Me and my boyfriend have been together soon to be two years now. I oftentimes have had to reprimand him about stupid stuff like him being overly kind to women and allowing it to cut into time that me and him spend together, but today I have found a rather compelling... Well... Discovery. So, he's been struggling with finding and keeping work but he always has money somehow. I did some snooping,(I know, I'm sorry) under suspicion that I'd find out maybe he has an alternative way of making money like OF or something but instead... He's been lying to women and "flirting" with them and making false promises to meet up with them, only to take money from them and end up spending it on me. (Gifts, dates, stuff I ask for or sometimes I post on my story.) The money he gets from working with his family, he spends on himself. I don't know what to say or do. As good as our relationship is, I've never expected some shit like this. I don't know. I am at a loss for words. I had to get it off my chest because I knew it'd eat me up knowing all day and not processing it. What the hell do I even do? Where do I start? It's only ever been women that have ignored the fact he tells them he's with me, or women who've been under my comments calling me ugly or fat or some shit. I can't even come up with the words.

4, I have had a total of 4 friends who have either cut, or cut currently. I dont know why but for some reason i feel as if it is my fault. I feel like if i had just stepped up i could have helped them. At one point i attempted to cut myself, but someone walked in, luckly, they didn't see me. I am the youngest of 4 in my family, and feel as though i have to do something different, as most of my siblings have done/are doing great things. I feel the wieght of all their success on my shoulders, and i can still hear every hurtful thing they have ever said repeating in my head, but it isnt just theirs, but every single hurtful thing i have ever heard. I constantly tell myself that i am not good enough and i have had others say the same to my face and, quite literally, behind my back. I have gone through years of bullying and i cry myself to sleep most nights. I also don't think my trauma is important enough so i dont share to my friends or family. My dad, siblings, and ex made me insecure about talking to much, and a girl named Harlow Curry made me insecure about being fat and ugly. I tell myself they were simply telling the truth, and that it isnt their fault. Everything that has ever happened to me, someone else has a worse story and makes mine sound fine, they say that mental abuse doesn't count as abuse, but i attempted suicide once and people still dont care. I have started to agree with them and now every second of every day there is a voice saying that i am not good enough and that my trauma doesn't matter, and finally, that everything bad is always my fault, yes, even things out of my control. But it also say that everything good i have done doesn't matter.

i am very insecure bout my body and all i can think of is how my bf would prolly be wishing for more or someone else. i might not be the prettiest or hottest to myself but i am sure that my body is uglier. i cant help it but to worry bout it more now that im in a relationship. i feel shit bout myself, i have no good grades, no talents or anything. it makes me wonder is hes staying only cuz i treat him right and im loyal cuz other girls werent. everytime we makeout i cant help it but to think "maybe hes thinking that the random girls he made out with had better tits and ass than me"or maybe thats why he follows girls with their clevage out or tits out in their profile? im so insecure that i could get a bbl done. my bf cant agree that i have big tits either. he doesnt even care to console me and it hurts that he doesnt give two shits, while i console him whole night staying up sacrificing my sleep for him while i have school, all he tells me is "dont worry you are hot" and literally thats it. i dont know who to talk to bout this cuz people will judge or say im overreacting but honestly it hurts at some point.

I don't know how my future will look like, but it was hard in the past, it's hard in the present and I am afraid it will continue being harder in the future and I'm not sure just how much strength I have anymore.

I am 21 years old, I became 21 years old in December 2024. I live in a poor, opportunity-lacking country in Europe but I wasn't born here. I was born in a better country, with better economy and so many more opportunities. I was a dancer as a child, I loved animals and dancing and my dream was either to be a veterinarian or a dancer. My parents were immigrants in the country I was born in and after I did 5th grade there, was in a good dance group and had many friends - they decided they wanted to go back to their home country.

It was hell. They never bothered to teach me the language, I had to learn it WHILE going to school (keep in mind, it's 5th grade so of course every kid knows how to speak and write, I didn't). I was subjected to much bullying and humiliation from both teachers and students alike for not speaking as fluently, not writing as fluently and not knowing the customs like they did. My parents never helped me, not emotionally and financially the bare minimum. Somehow I managed to pass school without failing any years even without the help. I went to highschool, everything was the same. My mental health deteriorated year after year and I felt more overwhelmed, more exhausted, more alone and more depressed.

Whenever I acted on my depression, my parents scolded me, didn't do anything about it and blamed it all on me. I never had anyone to talk about my struggles with, no one to acknowledge how hard I tried to pick up my life and keep up with every other child even though it was ten times harder. I never asked for much of them, they barely gave me anything but the bare minimum. I didn't and still don't have many clothes, my room consists of an old bed gifted by my grandfather, a desk gifted by my neighbor, and a closet gifted from my other grandfather. I never asked them for my allowance. Never even cried about how little I have. Let's not even talk about healthcare, they were forced to take me to the dentist as a child, but after they moved to this worse country that doesn't impose it they stopped and one of my tooth fell, I still don't have an implant.

And God forbid I ask them for something other than the necessities. I never got any presents from them for my birthday, and when I became 18th years old, I asked them for a laptop (a cheap one, anything would do) so I could use it for college. They yelled at me and told me they don't have money to spend on whatever I want (they've bought each other several phones along the years,among other things). Finally, somehow, I got my bachelor degree. So I decided to apply for college, like any other kid after finishing highschool. I applied for two, and got in both of them without tax.

But it was far (the closest college to where I live has very few options, none of which I want to do) and my parents did not want to pay for any expense. They didn't want to pay for even a bathroom for me to have there, or internet. So I had no choice but to give it up and instead join a post-highschool education (assistant pharmacist, it's free so they're not paying for it). I hate it. It's not the life I dreamed of. It's not what the little me told the teacher they wanted to do when they grow up. My classmates are mostly old ladies who just want to do another job aside from the ones they have and I pass by teenagers everyday, seeing them happy and excited to go and see the world the same way I was and knowing their parents will most likely support them unlike mine did with me, and I'm stuck with them while everyone my age is out there doing something with their lives. I know I am missing my young years and wasting them away but I don't know what to do.I gained courage and asked my mom if I could apply for college again, just to see if I get in. She said she'd rather me finish the one I'm doing now, and then she said even if I get in that college again, she will never take me there, her reasoning being that it's too far and she doesn't want to send me food or anything. She then ended the phone and I'm in the bus towards home now trying not to cry, surrounded by annoying highschool teenagers.

I only have one life, and I can't even do something with it.

I used to think hard work and performance actually meant something, but now? I give up. Every day at my job, it’s less about who does the best work and more about who checks the right boxes. It’s gotten to the point where I feel like I’m just showing up, doing my best, and watching people get ahead for reasons that have nothing to do with skill or effort. At first, I tried to ignore it. I thought, Okay, just focus on your own progress, keep your head down, and things will even out. But they don’t. Instead of real career development, all we get is more “woke” initiatives, endless diversity trainings, and company-wide emails patting themselves on the back for promoting people based on identity instead of talent. Don’t get me wrong—I believe in fairness, equal chances, all that. But that’s not what this is. It’s not about fairness; it’s about looking good on paper. I’ve watched coworkers bust their ass for years, only to get passed over for someone less experienced because “we need more representation in leadership.” It’s like performance doesn’t matter anymore—just optics. And it’s exhausting pretending it doesn’t get to me.

I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, but lately, I’m asking myself why? If the promotions, raises, and recognition are going to people based on factors completely outside of their work, then what’s the point? Every meeting feels like another round of performative nonsense. We can’t even talk about improving sales or efficiency without someone throwing in a forced social angle, as if productivity is suddenly a dirty word. And don’t even get me started on the “optional” events that aren’t really optional—if you don’t attend the latest DEI seminar or pride workshop, you’re suddenly not a “team player.” Meanwhile, the actual job we’re here to do keeps getting harder, expectations keep rising, and the only thing that isn’t improving is the people actually running things. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this new version of the workplace, but at this point, I don’t care anymore. I’ve seen what gets rewarded and what doesn’t, and it’s clear that playing fair isn’t the way to win. So yeah—I give up. Not because I can’t keep up, but because I’m tired of pretending this system makes any sense.

I've been in a relationship for 3 years and in like the last year, I've had feelings of regret more often. We have pur good moments and bad like normal relationships. But when we fight or have a disagreement and he's upset, for some topics I just can't understand his perspective. I understand being upset that's perfectly okay but it gets dragged out and I end up feeling dead inside. I can't help but think that I wouldn't have to go through this if I was single. But I can't exactly break up with him because he is a good person and he loves me a lot. I just can't shake off the regret feeling. I don't know if I'm overthinking and I should just ignore the feeling or bury it

I'm just genuinely sick of everything

I'm in love. I'm a queer nonbinary teen and I have been in several relationships but none have felt like this. I'm in a group home currently and so is she. We can't talk anymore because she moved schools and we can't add each other to our call lists. We broke up due to her moving schools and it hurts so bad. I know people say I'm too young to be in love but they're wrong. It hurts so bad.

I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately, but every time the words am I gay cross my mind, I push them away, like if I don’t think about it, it’ll just go away. Except it doesn’t. I’m 32 years old, and I feel like I should have figured this out by now. But here I am, sitting in my apartment after another long day at work, replaying every moment in my life that’s ever made me question myself. I mean, I’ve always liked women—or at least, I thought I did. I’ve had girlfriends, I’ve been in love, and I’ve genuinely been attracted to women. But then why does this other side of me exist? The side that wonders why I sometimes feel something different when I look at a guy. The side that gets this weird flutter in my stomac when a certain type of guy walks by or when I watch a movie and find myself paying way too much attention to the male lead instead of the actress everyone else is drooling over. I tell myself it’s nothing, just admiration, but at some point, admiration starts feeling a lot like attraction.

It’s not like I’ve never questioned it before. There were moments, little things throughout my life that should’ve made me stop and think. Like that time in college when my friend put his arm around me, and it sent this unexpected rush through me. Or the way I felt weirdly nervous around a certain guy I worked with a few years ago, even though I told myself I just thought he was cool. But I never let myself go further than that. I never really explored it because I didn’t need to, right? I was dating women, and I liked them, so that meant I was straight. Case closed. Except, now, after years of ignoring it, it’s like my brain won’t let it go anymore. It’s not just a passing thought that I can laugh off or push aside—it’s sticking with me, making me wonder if I’ve been lying to myself this whole time. What if I never questioned it before because I never gave myself the space to? Wat if I’ve been so caught up in doing what’s expected, in playing the part, that I never stopped to ask myself what I actually want?

The scary part is, I don’t even know where to go from here. How do you figure this out when you’ve already built a life on the assumption that you’re straight? Do I just start dating guys? Do I tell someone? And if I do, what if I’m wrong? What if this is just some passing phase or overthinking spiral, and I make a huge deal out of something that doesn’t even need to be a deal at all? I wish there was some test, some clear-cut answer that would just tell me, yes, you are gay or no, you’re just overanalyzing everything. But there’s not. And that’s what makes this so confusing. Maybe I’m bi, maybe I’m just figuring myself out late, or maybe I’m reading into things too much. All I know is, I can’t keep pushing it away. I don’t want to look back 10 years from now and wonder what would’ve happened if I’d been brave enough to actually face this. Maybe the real question isn’t am I gay, but what happens if I let myself find out?