Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 63

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and to be honest, I’m a bit confused. I’m a 28-year-old guy who identifies as bisexual, but I keep hearing people talking about pansexuality and it’s making me question what I really know about my own identity. I mean, I’ve always thought of bisexuality as being attracted to two or more genders, while pansexuality seems to be more about being attracted to people regardless of gender. But does that mean pansexuals are more open, or am I just overthinking this? Like, can you even clearly define the difference between the two, or are they just different labels people use to describe similar feelings? I’ve had friends tell me that it really comes down to personal choice and how someone relates to their own attractions, but I don’t want to assume that my experience as bisexual is the same as someone else’s experience as pansexual. It’s honestly exhausting, and maybe I need to just chill out a bit, but these identities feel so fluid and I just want to understand them better.

I remember talking to this girl I met at a party who identified as pansexual, and it was kind of an enlightening experience. She talked about how she feels attracted to people based on their personality over their gender. It made me think about my own preferences and if I truly limit myself, or if I'm just as open as she is but with a different label. Sometimes I catch myself questioning if there’s a right way to identify, like should I be more fluid or should I stick to how I’ve identified for years? It’s frustrating because I certainly don’t want to misrepresent myself, but it also feels like there’s this constant pressure to define myself in a way that makes sense to others. Are these labels helping us connect, or are we just complicating things? If you’re reading this, what do you all think? Is there really a significant difference between being bisexual and pansexual, or is it just a matter of semantics? What’s your experience with these identities?

I feel a lot of affection toward one of the doctors who treated me. In fact, I feel a sense of care that neither my father nor my mother had ever given me. I feel affectionate, loving, and for the first time, I don't feel like speaking ill of parental figures as I always have, and that makes me happy. I confess that I never liked speaking ill of my parents because I felt it was denigrating my past, my person, that part of me that was made up of them, but I couldn't help it.

In fact, I confess, I'm sorry to be writing about them like this because I feel it's distancing me from them, and I don't want to do that. I don't want to distance myself from other parental figures again; I'm not interested in doing that. I feel like I want to be with them, not cause them any inconvenience, no fights, just follow them blindly. Yes, that's exactly it.

I feel like I've put all my critical tools to work distancing myself from my parents, which was my greatest wish. I didn't want that to happen again. In fact, that's why I feel like these doctors are like paternal figures, and I feel like they've adapted me in some way. It fulfills me in part because I feel like they're replacing my parents, but I can't help it.

How can I not give them credit for being paternal figures if they've earned it? Even with their example. They're inclusive of me. I even feel like I'm part of the family, where I'm taken into account, where I'm a priority, where I'm taken seriously and with care. I feel like this made me feel completely cut off from the family. My parents were always willing to make me feel marginalized, but these doctors, on the other hand, make me feel like I'm part of something, that there's a system that loves me, that appreciates me, that wants me alive. With my parents, I felt like that was impossible because I was born among them, which didn't seem fair at all.

I never felt like part of the family. They never allowed me to. No matter how hard I tried to get inside, they kept me defensive about my parents. I simply had to keep quiet because it was them, as if they were the perpetrators of a massacre to which I was condemned without any salvation. Even with my family, they closed the door on me and left me in a dead end. I can't ask the doctors to play my parents, however, I see an interest in them in making me their son, given that, for some reason, I see that they have lacked that possibility, mainly due to their spirit of justice, commitment, and friendliness, which precisely constitutes a burden that is very difficult to compensate.

In fact, with another of the doctors, I feel a relationship, also familiar, in terms of a courtship, but it goes beyond that; it's even familial. The group of doctors who treated me feel like a kind of family that somehow adapted me, that opened their doors to me. I don't understand why. It's as if, despite the treatment having been completed, they had adapted me given the conditions I expressed regarding my parents, as if they weren't acting as caregivers, as if their job served as an excuse to fulfill that position from the perspective they can offer. Their pain over my situation, even though they didn't express it, was harsh, and this time, unlike what they could do with their friends or with someone other than the patient, they couldn't distance themselves from it, given that their duty was to care for me, and it remains that way. It's as if the grieving process they had to endure regarding me in order to transition to other patients had never ended.

It's strange. So, I have a new family, but the question is: How is this? Why did it happen to me? Why did I have to transition to a new family? This happened without anyone's permission; no one wanted this to happen. We're all giving in to our impulses just like that. We all turned our backs on the issue because there was no excuse to escape, but this time it's not possible. How could this have happened to me? Isn't it easier to walk around without family? I don't even see these doctors; they're distant. I vaguely know them, because of life's circumstances, on the same level of appreciation with which I view my parents. Why is it that I value them as family? I feel that the same distance I maintain with my family, I maintain with them. In fact, this doctor, who I didn't specify as my father but rather as my sister, was so distant, uncommunicative, she was my sister. What surprises me is that I experience this simple pattern of interaction as a substitute and satisfying family. I mean, I can't believe my family is so easy to replace. In fact, beyond them, I don't know anything, a question I experience with my blood family itself.

Is it that in my family, we are so empty? The doctors have given me vague interaction. Exactly what I've felt with my parents regarding working together. Is there so little in my family that unites us? The family relationship between us has been practical Especially that of us being in a work environment where my sister and I are the clients. How could this union have happened just like that? I can't believe my family is so simple and vague. I can't believe it. I can't believe I can replace it so easily. In fact, I feel more confident with these vague details.

I can't believe what I'm experiencing. And just like that, this emerged out of nowhere, just like that. With barely any planning. Furthermore, with selected personnel, I'm talking about doctors, for their work skills. What the heck was my family back then? I swore we were much more complex. Not one you could easily get anywhere. It makes me feel like my family, what we had between us, was just anything. Frankly, I can't believe it.

I feel like there was really nothing between my family and me. Not even with my sister and my parents, just a sad pity that camouflaged it. I never thought I'd discover this. Furthermore, the same frequency with which I see my parents is the same frequency with which I see the doctors I consider my parents. In fact, I trust the female one more, and she's the one who is open and concrete, a bit of a leader, just like my mother, and the male one is rude, drastic, but with a certain measure of restraint, and also authoritarian at times. I can't believe, I insist, that the same core group has formed as when I was at home, which for me was unstable and unstable, just as I experienced at the place where these doctors treated me. Furthermore, with the doctor I feel like my sister, equally distant, eccentric, lonely, and forced to do what she was doing to survive. I can't believe, I insist, that I've encountered the same core group of people.

What is my family then? A group of random people? What the heck did we have at home? Parents who propped up the situation as best they could, trying to get by without any success beyond support, and a sister who did whatever it took to look good with them and everyone else, while I was simply at the mercy of observation and finger-pointing. I insist, I can't believe the same modus operandi developed that existed at home; having, in other words, an emotional and rebellious inclination between my sister and me toward the world. I insist: What the hell did we have at home? Why did we have this at home? How could we have had such a simple, vague, and dysfunctional way of living together? Dysfunctional given that there was no review of the family's destiny despite the elements against it. What did we have at home? Simply, everyone pulling for themselves. The doctor I consider a father was distant from the case and didn't express it, like my mother. What did we have at home? It was everyone for themselves, after all, a sad attempt for each of us to survive. How could we have been so simple-minded? In this family, as a nucleus, there was no depth whatsoever. My parents, besides wanting to look good to those in authority, as always, and being clever at making one look bad, and acting as an inclusion.

It all started with a simple text message. You know the kind – a little too casual, maybe a hint of hesitance. Andrew and I had been together for over two years, and though I had felt it was a solid relationship, that day felt different. As I read the words “We need to talk,” a wave of dread washed over me. Have you ever felt that sinking feeling in your stomach, where your mind spirals down a rabbit hole of questions? That's where I was. The ensuing conversation was difficult; he told me he needed space to figure things out, but what I heard was that he didn’t want to be with me anymore. The breakup hit me like a freight train, leaving me stunned and shocked. I remember sitting on my bed, staring at the wall while tears streamed down my face, wondering if I could ever get over this.

Friends said it would get better; they all said it. But the truth is, the days that followed felt like I was trapped in a slow-motion movie. I scrolled through every happy photo we had together, replaying every memory in my mind. How could he say he *needed* space? Didn’t he know that my heart was breaking with every word? I became a master at avoiding his social media, though my curiosity clawed at me, demanding to know what he was up to. Have you ever been in that position? When every fiber of your being tells you not to look, but you can’t fight the urge? I stumbled through days that turned into weeks, each one feeling heavier than the last, as the hole in my chest grew bigger with each passing moment.

As the initial shock faded, I began to realize that wallowing in sadness was not getting me anywhere. I reached a point where I started to question what I was truly feeling. Was I heartbroken or just bored with my life? I had spent so much time focused on our relationship that I had lost sight of who I was. So, I decided to make a drastic change: I would go out and *live*. I threw myself into new activities. I took up painting, something I had always been passionate about. I started running, discovering a newfound love for the wind in my hair and the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement. Each mile started to cleanse my mind, allowing me to find clarity. Does anyone reading this relate? When you start finding joy in yourself versus relying on someone else for happiness? It truly felt like I was shedding layers that Andrew’s presence had encapsulated me in.

Weeks turned into months, and surprisingly, I began to feel like I was moving on. I sought out the support of friends who reminded me of the strength I had within me. I surrounded myself with laughter, which eventually drowned out the echo of his voice saying goodbye. But there were still tough days. Moments when I would see a couple holding hands and feel a flash of anger or sadness. I slowly learned to embrace those feelings without letting them crush me. Instead, I’d take a deep breath, let the emotions flow through me, and remind myself that it was okay to grieve, but it was also important to celebrate the small victories. Isn’t it funny how sometimes pain can lead to growth? I've come to understand that sometimes, endings are merely beginnings​ of something even better. That is what I held on to as I took each step forward, no longer just existing but *living*.

Each new encounter, each laugh shared with friends solidified the notion I was learning — love can be beautiful, but the most vital kind of love is the one for yourself. I had become my own best friend and found solace in solitude rather than sadness. I discovered what it was like to smile authentically, unrestrained by the fear of loneliness. Have you ever taken that leap, embraced the unknown, and found a hidden strength? If you’re in a similar place, struggling to get over a breakup, I can't impress upon you enough how worth it is to explore who you are outside of a relationship. It may feel impossible now, but trust me when I say, there’s a whole world out there waiting to be explored. Sometimes, you just have to let go of what’s weighing you down to make room for the beautiful things that life has to offer!

Have you ever sat in your room, staring at the blank wall while the world outside continues its relentless pace, and wondered why you even bother to wake up each day? I mean, seriously, I'm nineteen and still asking myself this elementary question: What’s the point? Life, as I see it, feels like one stacked disappointment after another. Sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I’m just a ghost wandering through a living nightmare. Friends? Yeah, apparently I have a couple, but how many of them actually care? It’s like playing a game of pretend where everyone’s wearing masks, and I’m trapped inside my own. We laugh; we talk about pointless things that mean absolutely nothing. But deep down, I know that beneath the surface of those smiles is a sea of apathy, drifting quietly past as time ticks on. Like, do you ever get the sense that everyone is as lost as you are, but we’re just too scared to admit it? Days bleed into nights, and what do I have to show for it? A collection of half-finished projects and dreams that crumble every time I actually muster the courage to pursue them. Take school, for instance. I’m pushing through it, but I honestly can’t fathom why it matters. The grades, the pressure, the endless cycle of studies and exams—it all feels so trivial when you think about it. Not to mention the regrets that linger like smoke in the air, taunting me over lost opportunities and things I wanted to say but never did. How did I let it get this far? This overwhelming feeling of inadequacy weighs on me like an anchor, making it hard to even get out of bed some days. I mean, am I the only one who feels like I’m screaming in a crowded room and no one hears me? Sometimes the silence feels deafening. The moments between the chaotic noise of everyday life are filled with self-doubt, pulling me down into thoughts that spiral like a roller coaster out of control. Relationships are complicated, aren’t they? I see my friends dating, laughing, living lives full of passion, and I can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I find that spark, that fire that lights up the mundane? I scroll through social media, each post a reminder of what I lack. Life looks perfect through a screen, but in reality, it’s just a highlight reel, right? Are we all just actors in our own stories? I keep waiting for the moment when I finally feel alive, yet every time I think it might happen, it slips through my fingers like sand. What if all I am is a name on a list, an afterthought in someone else’s tale? I try to fill my days, consuming content, watching movies, playing videos games—it’s like I’m escaping into different universes where my real life feels even more distant. The thrilling escapades and heroic quests completely contrast the mediocrity of my existence. Yet, when the screen fades to black, I’m left alone again, confronting the echoing reality of my confusion and despair. Do you feel this way too? Like a spectator, just watching your life go by? I thought adulthood came with the promise of freedom and adventure, but here I am trapped in an existence I didn’t sign up for. At times, I think about the possible paths I could take—the ones I didn’t choose, the risks I was too scared to take. So many “what ifs” floating in my head. What if I had gone after that girl I liked in high school? What if I had taken a year off to travel? What if I actually pursued what I loved instead of what everyone else expected? We live our lives pretending to follow a script, but what’s written doesn’t reflect who we are inside. And here’s the kicker; despite all that feeling, I still wake up every day. I won’t lie and say that the night doesn’t sometimes stretch endlessly and leave me feeling hopeless, but a part of me clings to the thought that maybe, just maybe, it could get better. There’s still a glimmer of hope buried somewhere under all this confusion that tells me there has to be a reason for my existence, but for now, I’m just lost in the chaos. Who knows if I’ll ever find my way? Do you ever feel the same, or am I just rambling into the void? Why are we here? It’s a question I’m still struggling to answer.

In a relationship that seems perfect from the outside, it's funny how there can be an undercurrent of secrets just beneath the surface. My boyfriend, Jake, is everything I thought I'd ever wanted: charming, funny, and incredibly attentive. He knows how to make me laugh, how to listen when I need to vent, and he seems to genuinely care about my feelings. But there’s a layer of my life that he knows nothing about, and I question whether I should ever reveal it to him. Have you ever felt trapped by your own secrets, teetering on the edge of wanting to share but terrified of the fallout?

For the past year, I’ve been living with a burden that’s becoming increasingly heavy. Before I met Jake, I had a different life filled with reckless choices and a wild side that is almost entirely hidden from him. When I think about those times, I can't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. I was carefree but also naïve, often putting myself in precarious situations that could have gone horribly wrong. It was the kind of life that seemed exciting at the time but ultimately lacked substance. As I delve into this side of myself, I realize how juxtaposed it is with the woman I’ve become since being with him. Would he still love me if he discovered what I had done, or would he see me in a completely different light, one that I can’t control?

The catalysts for my decision to hide this side of me were many. My past includes nights out that ended in chaos, relationships that were toxic, and moments where I put myself at risk, all in the name of fun and adventure. But I want to be seen as a responsible adult, someone who has their life on track. I carefully crafted a narrative to present to Jake; one where I’m a woman who’s made some mistakes but has learned from them, rather than a wild child who danced on the edge of danger. I often wonder if I'm betraying his trust by not being transparent about my history. Is holding back information simply an act of self-preservation, or is it a deceitful act in itself?

Moreover, I often find myself questioning the future we might have together. Will this secret haunt me, or at some point, will I feel compelled to share the truth? When we talk about our dreams and plans for the future, I can see us building a life together filled with happiness and love. But will I always carry the fear of him finding out on my shoulders? Would his perspective on ‘us’ change if he knew the entirety of my past? I can't help but to think: how would you respond if you found out your partner had a side they kept hidden? Would you view them through a lens of judgment or understanding, or would it make you question their integrity?

The thing is, I love Jake and appreciate the stability he brings to my life, but the shadows of my past loom over me, whispering that I am not the person he thinks I am. There’s a nagging sense of hypocrisy in presenting myself as someone who’s grown past that old life when parts of me still feel that urge for freedom and recklessness. Still, I choose to remain silent, at least for now. The thought of losing him terrifies me more than my own memories. Yet I am left wondering: is it fair to keep this piece of myself hidden, or is a relationship built on half-truths worth having at all?

Dear mummy,

words can't even begin to describe the kind of pain it is to be your daughter. I've known you my whole life yet I've completely failed to understand you and why you choose to be the way you are. I've failed to understand your refusal to take accountability for the problems you continue to create within our family.

I understand that you were born in a different time where abuse was a style of parenting, and where children were seen but not heard. I understand that you were raised to think that these sort of things were okay. but in your 50 years of living how have you failed to see that this behaviour you continue to do is exactly what's affecting your relationship with your children. A relationship you so desperately want yet refuse to fight for. I don't understand why you're afraid of your children leaving you when you're older, but you refuse to care and nourish them while they're still here with you. aren't you contradicting yourself mummy? why do you make it your life's mission to create division between the children in this family and the turn around and ask us to be united and love one another. are you not being a hypocrite mummy? why do you continue to coddle the boys in the family and forbid them from lifting a finger, and then turn around and blame us girls when they behave like selfish, inconsiderate bastards. Was it me who raised them mummy? I don't think you understand the kind of environment you created for us mummy.

I was raised in a house where I wasn't allowed to make mistakes. a place where my opinions didn't matter. a home where facts were void because you're the only one who could ever be right. I can't even count the amount of times where you made me feel so ashamed for existing in the body I do. If it wasn't my weight that was the issue, it was my gender, and if it wasn't that then it was the fact that I was unfortunate enough to look like my father. You quite literally raised me to hate myself! but on the few occasions you take an interest interest in what I have to say, you act surprised when I tell you that I don't really like the way I look. One time you actually had the audacity to ask me why I wasn't confident in myself like the other kids. I even specifically remember you asking me why we're not close, and why I don't tell you things. You expect me to behave like a child who was raised in a home where her voice mattered, a place where her questions weren't dismissed as disrespect. but honestly mummy your like a sculptor who never touched the clay but demands a masterpiece. And for that I will never forgive you, no matter how much I love you.

I used to believe you'd change, but time and time again you proved me wrong. I hope you know that all those times we argued and disagreed on what you were doing, I was trying to mend to our relationship. I hope you understand that all those times I was being a "disrespectful child" who "talked back to her elders", I was hoping you'd understand that I fought because I wanted a relationship with you. But now I understand that you are simply too proud to change. Too proud to even consider that maybe you went about motherhood the wrong way. But it's ok. Knowing this has honestly freed me. I'm no longer the girl who's filled with jealousy when I see my friends have fulfilling relationships with their mothers. I'm no longer the girl whose eyes fill with tears when I see someone on TV who reminds me of you. Because at least now I know where we stand.

Sincerely your daughter

No I'm not the Joker. I had an unnecessary argument with some trolls online. It made me realize that I hate how everyone's an asshole and no one wants to have conversations or be civil. Even is always in the right even if they're wrong, especially influencers, they can't take accountability for their actions at all. I hate how billionaires get a free pass on taxes while some people in my country are debating between rent and food. I wanna go back to pre-iPhone era or go back to when we had trains. To be honest, I'd rather not exist at all.

My parents are very religious like extremely and they just found out I vape. They were really mad and tried to take it away from me so I told them no and kept it. We haven’t really been talking since then she keeps telling me I need to confess to god and that I’m a sinner but I don’t want to quit vaping it helps with my anxiety so

What do I do?

Too exhausted and drained of energy from a relationship filled with deep affection and forbidden love. It often feels like all the effort in this relationship is one-sided. I always give, but never receive anything in return. The love bombing phase has ended. There was a time when I felt genuinely loved and cared for wholeheartedly. We both already have partners and children. We only meet in person at work, in the office. The relationship began when we started sharing stories about our lives, which eventually developed into something more intimate. The love bombing phase was the most beautiful period—it felt like being young again, like a first love. The relationship was full of excitement, with a constant desire to meet and be together. Every effort was made just to stay close, no matter what. It felt like I couldn’t live without them.

But lately, what I feared has started to happen. Their true nature is beginning to show. They lie often and look for reasons to start fights—just so they can spend time with others, which they never used to do before. They’ve also been interacting frequently with their ex, claiming it’s purely professional. However, they were once caught alone together in a car in a parking lot. I don’t know what they were doing—they claimed they were just going to grab a meal together. They’re increasingly working together on the same projects. They seem very enthusiastic when talking about this ex, who holds a high position in the company. They seem to admire them a lot. But they always get extremely angry when I bring it up, which only makes me more suspicious.

The more I express my doubts, the more they lash out—yelling and twisting the facts. They bring up my past mistakes but refuse to acknowledge their own. I love them deeply, so I’ve often ignored their faults and let things slide. But over time, it’s become too frequent and too much to handle. It's started affecting my mental health, making me lose motivation in both work and daily life.

What’s most disturbing is that they don’t let me interact with others. They don’t allow me to go out with friends, yet they often socialize with other men. I don’t know what to do anymore. Right now, I’m in a very sad place and don’t feel like doing anything at all.

Something I've started to notice over the years that some (well) most of my friends parents hate/dislike me. don't know why. sometimes its nothing sometimes its old stuff. Like am I that bad? I feel like I cant hang out with anyone anymore because of their parents, its sad and makes me lonely like I'm just a kid (teen) I'm still learning about life and I just want to hang out with friends but I cant even do that. like one of my friends their mom hates me over some drama that happened last month or so (its whatever we are chill) but their mom blames me but like its off and on, plus I'm just a child like u don't even know me. Me and my friend both have older sisters and they are besties. my friend and her sisters parents don't have a problem with my sister so why hate me? its like everyone loves my older sister and shes sooo perfect so she can do anything and I'm just the crappy hated "(Name)_____ sister" I cant even enjoy life cuz of this. the only good thing about school is that I can see my friends and hang and talk with them. cant do it at home. there is 9 days of school left and I'm going into highschool next year! I wont even see some friends at school so what if I want to hang with them but their parents don't like me? IDK what to do but I'm over it. just cant let a teen be a teen..

(friend list follows: Katy, Amy, Barley, Harley, Ella, Will, JJ, Tasha, Mindy)

So more friendgroup stuff.

I sit at a table with Amy, JJ, Mindy, Will, Katy, and one of Mindy's friends. Tasha, Harley, and Barley all sit at their own table. I'm still technically friends with Barley, we still talk and vibe yk, but I don't talk to Tasha and Harley as much as I used to. Tasha, Amy, and Mindy are all dating eachother.

In the mornings, we have morning holding. Everyone who doesn't go to breakfast goes to the gym and we sit with our grade levels and socialize until we go to class. When I get to the gym, usually Barley's there already. (Amy, Tasha, JJ, and Mindy all go to breakfast.) Ella arrives later as does Harley. Katy enters the gym at the same time I do.

If Barley's already there, we talk yk, we vibe just like normal. But then, when Harley arrives, and I've become used to this, I become invisible. If I was sitting next to Barley, I move up and sit next to Katy, or sometimes Ella if Katy's not there that day, or I just move and sit alone if neither of them are there. Even though I'm used to disappearing, it still feels not too good.

At lunch, you know the seating arrangement. The seats aren't the same two weeks in a row usually. But Amy always, and I mean ALWAYS sits between JJ and Mindy. I sit next to Katy. Will's new-ish (he was homeschooled, then came back to actual school), so he doesn't really have a set place. I vibe with JJ, Amy, Katy, and Will. I don't talk to Mindy's friend. And I feel like Mindy hates my guts for whatever reason. She doesn't even ever glance my way during lunch, not once the whole lunch period.

JJ and Amy are OBSESSED with Genshin Impact. Once they start talking about it, everyone around it is gone in a puff of smoke. And by everyone, usually just me. They still talk with Will and Mindy, just about Genshin. Me and Katy, who don't play Genshin, are left on the outside. Yeah, we all have common interests, like K-pop and Alien Stage, but Genshin tends to take over sometimes.

Ella's pretty chill. We vibe. We have our inside jokes. "CaN i PeT tHaT dAaAwWwG??" "diD You WaSH yO AsS ToDAY??" but she sits at her lunch table with her friend group.

Harley sometimes will turn and talk to Amy. Then they'll turn back to her own table and start talking to Tasha and Barley again. (they use she/they pronouns so I'm tryna use a mix of them lol). Tasha and I don't talk. Not much, anyway.

Me, Barley, and Tasha are all in band together, but Barley's not continuing next year and Tasha is changing schools.

Sometimes, Amy and JJ forget that I exist at all. I wait for them at class change so we can walk together, but still they sometimes don't talk to me. And they usually never wait for me when I get out of class after they do. Amy waits for Mindy and that's all.

More on Mindy: I HAVE NO IDEA WHY SHE HATES ME. No idea! At all. She doesn't look at me, doesn't talk to me, doesn't associate with me.

I'm just getting very sick of my friend group. I'm done with being invisible, done with Mindy hating me for no reason, done with the people who stop talking to me when one specific friend is around. I'm done. And idk what to do because I don't want to ditch them all and be alone, because we're literally a friend group of the outcasts of our grade. But what do you do when you're an outsider in a group of outsiders?

I messed up my exams and I don’t wanna study anymore. I’m really scared about my parents. I feel like they are gonna hate me…

I fucked up my maths exams today. It’s finals I can’t believe I made so made fucking small mistakes and it’s literally decreasing my marks. I EVEN TOLD MY PARENTS IT WAS WELL. I’m the only one who messed up my exams like this. I just wanna kill my self. I really wanna cry. I’m so scared to show my face to my parents.

I grew up in a very religious family and currently a teens rn.(forgive me if my English or grammar is wrong)

My family would always bring me and my brother to church every sabbath. Tbh I've never missed a sabbath. And they say that gay people are an abomination. And I read bl (boys love) and the reason I read it was probably just to run away from my own problems. I know it's really not a good thing to do but I can't stop reading it. it's becoming an obsession. I just feel really guilty for doing this but I really can't stop it's the only reason I can keep a smile. It was my source of happiness. It was always there for me. But i feel like im betraying my parents by doing this. I really feel guilty. I feel like I'll get disowned if I get discovered. But I just really don't know what to do. I really need to quit doing this. Please someone share some advice In which way i should go.

so I'm in band rn, and we're about to go to a theme park. when I said I didn't get a permission form from her, she started going off on me about how I couldn't keep track of anything, how I don't use my brain, etc. I hear this from my mom a lot, so it didn't faze me, until she said I was gonna end up a high school dropout and never succeed with how I'm going. the thing is I'm at my best mentally, so this really hurt. brought me down a few notches. I dunno, I may be stupid, but its just painful hearing that from a teacher that was so nice to me last night during our concert.