Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

My boss is constantly sabotaging my relationship with a young woman. I want peace and quiet, a chance for thoughtful reflection, to embrace what we've shared, but that's not something my boss likes. Because when I come into contact with what happened with the young woman, I also come into contact with what happened with him. Therefore, I see him, and therefore, those feelings resurface, creating that unfortunate distance precisely because it's incongruous with his absence. This man thrives on making contact, to prevent others from reflecting, and thus avoid the situation becoming unpredictable. He did this once before, and now I understand the issue. He makes so many omissions that he needs me to remain unaware. Knowing whether one is alright in the workplace, amidst the emptiness, I believe, is a way to prevent the feelings that lead to these distances, born from brutal actions committed blindly by the authorities due to the lack of consequences—and they certainly want to prevent them.

This young woman and I have worked hard to maintain a peaceful relationship. In fact, she dislikes being contacted during her vacations. Of course, during the work season, her position demands her time at odd hours, simply because it involves work-related communications. She's a very nice young woman, although I must admit, she can be difficult to work with. I also confess that I'm finding it a bit difficult to write right now, as I'm doing it in a rush, because my boss contacted me today, disrupting my routine, where I hadn't anticipated any contact with him beyond the start of our work period. I don't like this approach, because, as I said, it doesn't allow for any real action to address issues. The idea is that the employee can react appropriately to what happened during the work period, to be more assertive, and to rectify the situation. Otherwise, interfering during the vacation period only results in keeping her tied down by comments about any inconsistency, making it easy to accuse her of deviating from expected norms, when the whole point of vacations is for individuals to express themselves fully.

This isn't something that boss understands, nor does it seem to many others. Everyone else embraces full contact, but I don't. In fact, the time I was in contact with the young woman was to establish my responsibility, to show that as a friend I maintained the necessary boundaries. I can even say that the issue was about establishing healthy limits for our relationship within the environment. I need this time for reflection so I can show her, no matter what, that she has made it difficult to compromise her principles. It wasn't that I forced her to do it, but rather that I felt her own principles were being contradicted. In other words, her feelings for life, which had been sidelined for too long, were being prioritized over her own goals. While we can say that her goals are achieved based on her principles, this is only in the preliminary stages. They weren't developed holistically, leading to unforeseen problems. When she tries to resolve these issues, she ends up abruptly denying them, thus necessitating a more immediate solution, as it's something she's struggling to handle, and it's clearly affecting her established objectives.

My concern with her was precisely to safeguard her goals at all costs and ensure they weren't compromised in any way. It wasn't something my boss understood, not at all. His mindset was that of a dictatorship, one that would create chaos among us, thus affecting his life and mine as well. He masked it with his power, and with public humiliation through victimhood. In fact, I had a major falling out with my boss. I'd always wanted to leave, because for a long time he'd been looking for any excuse to get me out of the office, or at least undermine me, to the point where the best course of action would be for me to resign. Undoubtedly, the possibility of my leaving was a powerful motivator this time, to destroy any chance he had of doing this and to get me out of the office, where my plan was precisely to be there for some quiet reflection. I had to protect my plans, and he wasn't helping in any way. The girl also needed to look after her plans, but she did so in an imposed way through the exploitation of trust, whenever she needed it for said plans.

The young woman, in fact, was suffocating everyone with her social insistence, trying to establish that she was comfortable in the office. However, this wasn't a positive outcome; rather, it was causing more friction for everyone else. She would promise to attend company parties and then fail to show up for some reason, if she even gave one, which I doubt. In effect, the young woman was already creating a kind of explosive situation, one that wouldn't tolerate any mercy if she found some significant work-related loophole to exploit. And they were already looking for her, because the young woman didn't do efficient work either; in fact, everything she did was just a quick fix. It was clear she was only in that office to carry out the tasks assigned to her and attend to her own affairs. I confess, this is the case with me, although I must also say that due to the lack of regulations governing how things are done, everything there is completely improvised, which is advantageous for doing things in that casual, almost haphazard way.

She seeks swift resolutions in the office, without much detail, prioritizing strict adherence to instructions, though any insistence is seen as abuse, thanks to her routine, which consists of other things. In a way, she shares my own spirit. I must also confess that the office doesn't inspire any seriousness, as the hours are far from those of a typical company; they're barely twenty percent of what you'd expect, and even then, they're flexible. The pay is vague, typical of a regular company, but under these kinds of schedules, it's a bargain. Unions are everywhere, so any enforcement by the authorities is met with suspicion. Essentially, the worker feels comfortable performing a social act, rather than a purely professional one, contributing to the upkeep, since the minimum elements for a proper work structure are lacking, precisely because everything is improvised, nothing is in writing. This leads to the office behaving, in the long run, as a social center, whether the authorities like it or not, in exchange for collaboration that is also extremely subsidized, making the company so needy that it accepts meager wages just to have people there, for goodness sake.

This very scenario leads to the formation of groups beyond those established by the bureaucracy, creating situations that transcend bureaucratic boundaries. In order to prevent the exposure of the current social reality, they establish themselves under the guise of what is forbidden. This is the case of my boss and his secretary, who maintained an elitist atmosphere in the office, a situation that was shattered when they used their work for personal gain, thanks to a complaint I filed. For my part, the young woman and I subsisted by carrying out our work, under the established conditions, and through occasional contact. We are using as an example a regulated love in the middle of the office, something that my boss and his secretary did not do, but rather sought that of boss and secretary in the face of adversity, that is, the inclusion of someone of their style in power and thus demonstrate that those below are not segregated.

My daughter recently switched to a new private school which organizes an inaugural school trip in August each year. Sadly, she missed this year's trip but she's keen on joining next year's three-day adventure to Philadelphia.

The hitch, however, is the limitation on hotel room occupants: no more than six individuals per room. Right now, there are 37 girls needing accommodation. We discovered a group of four students who normally only participate during the day (three girls and one boy) but actually stay overnight in the same hotel. They too are part of the trip, under the guardianship and funding of their parents due to past bullying issues, especially directed at the boy. Their arrangement includes two rooms — one for the students and one for the supervising parent.

They've kindly offered for my daughter to join them in their arrangement. She's all for it, while I'm hesitant, particularly due to the mixed-gender sleeping arrangement, which I find completely inappropriate.

We've debated this for weeks now. Firm facts are in place: no school-arranged rooms are available, a private room arrangement like the independent group’s is financially out of reach for us, and the notion of a mixed-governight stays a firm no. Consequently, attending the trip isn't feasible.

This has utterly shattered her. She’s blaming me for making her switch schools in her sophomore year and our frequent relocations which she feels have destabilized her social life. She's finally looking forward to settling and making lasting friendships, and now this trip feels crucial to her. However, as much as it troubles me to see her upset, the decision seems final, though my husband is now suggesting we perhaps reconsider, given all the adjustments she's had to endure.

If our family saga were ever turned into a reality show, I suspect the audience would be split. Some viewers might empathize deeply with my daughter's desire for normalcy and friendships. Others might rally behind our parental concern over mixed-gender stays. It'd sure spark some heated debates on parenting forums and social media!

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about my situation, and I need to get this off my chest. I’m 17 years old and, for as long as I can remember, anxiety has been a part of my life. I constantly feel on edge; it's like there’s this invisible weight sitting on my chest, squeezing harder with every passing day. Sometimes, I wonder, "can you get disability for anxiety?" I’ve heard stories about other people getting help, but I’m really not sure how it works. The idea of living with this kind of anxiety forever terrifies me, and I worry that if I don’t get help soon, my situation could go from bad to worse. It’s like I’m hanging on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if I’ll fall or find some sort of solid ground.

in school, I often find myself staring blankly at my desk, too overwhelmed to focus on the lesson. I try to distract myself with thoughts of what I’ll do once I graduate or how I want to travel, but the anxiety creeps back in like an uninvited guest. A few weeks ago, I had a panic attack during a test and, honestly, it was one of the worst feelings ever. I felt embarrassed; everyone was looking at me, and I just wanted to disappear. I heard from a friend that they got accommodations for their anxiety, and it got me really thinking: is it possible for me to get something similar? Would going through the process of applying for disability be worth it? And what happens if I get turned down? It’s a lot to think about…

I did some research and found out that, according to the SSA, to qualify for disability benefits, you generally need to demonstrate that your condition severely limits your ability to work. But that’s where things get tricky. Anxiety isn’t always visible like a physical injury, and I often feel like I need to prove I'm suffering. My reflection is like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands; it’s there, but I can’t hold onto it. I keep hearing, “You need a diagnosis,” but I’ve been hesitant to speak to a professional. Talking about my feelings is really tough for me; I think about going to a therapist or counselor, but then I question if they'll really understand what I'm going through. Is it worth the risk of being vulnerable? Should I be gathering evidence of my anxiety so I can substantiate my claim if it comes to that? So many questions and uncertainties…

eventually, I guess I’ll have to make a decision, but for now, I feel stuck in a rut. I keep telling myself I should take that first step either way—whether that means reaching out to a therapist for advice or starting the application process for disability benefits. Part of me thinks about what others might say if they find out; will they judge me? Will they say I’m just trying to take the easy way out? This whole situation feels like a never-ending maze; it’s disorienting, and I don’t really know which way to turn. there’s this constant whirlwind of thoughts swirling around my mind, and I just wish for a bit of clarity!! I wonder what other people have done in similar situations? It’s like, am I the only one trying to figure this all out? I guess I’m reaching out to you, random readers, hoping for some kind of insight or advice on how you’ve managed your own experiences. Thanks for listening rather than judging; it means a lot when all I seem to do is worry!

TW slight mention of SH and suicidal thoughts

In the past I had some depressive like symptoms. I sh in many different ways and also had some kind of suicidal thoughts. I have gotten better over the last year because some issues I had with other people solved and everything is actually fine. I have been fine. Things have gotten better. However I feel like I am slipping again. I am slipping. The last days or weeks I feel worse and thoughts come back I hoped wouldn’t. I thought it would finally get better because I actually began to see a future for myself. Still the feeling is stronger that there isn’t anything. I suddenly notice that maybe I am the problem. Others care about me and are actually right in many situations but I just tell them off even yell and even am manipulative in some situations. The worst about is that they often then actually believe me and I do want to apologise but the words just don’t come out. I don’t make things better and just wallow in my despair. I try to. But I am not sure. I hurt myself again. It’s stupid. I don’t even know why. I somehow feel like it’s all part of my character, who would I be without my problems? I need that feeling of self-pity. I need to be able to fault others and yet I know that I don’t make it easy for others. I want to have friends and want to be close to others but I can’t share anything about myself. I want to have something genuine and yet I am jealous if they’re better than me or even feel worse than me. I just can’t feel empathy for them. Even while I am writing this I feel like I am reading off a script. That I am not being genuine.

Hubby and I are from different countries/cultures.

We ended up moving to Australia before Covid struck 😒 we eventually settled in and life moved on around the world. My in-laws all live in one area. Hubby and I settled nearby and everything was fine. The kids love their grandparents and they are good to me.

However…

I miss my parents so much. I am an only child and my babies are their only grandbabies. It breaks my heart. But hubby is good to me and supports us well. In-laws are good to me too. Just the culture differences get to me sometimes. In-laws have other grandchildren nearby. They are “well off” so they tend to live their lives separate from their children. That’s fine. I’m used to family in your face everyday lol.

The thing that bothers me is they will pass on spending time with their grandkids just because. They want to shop or go out for dinner on their own. We have invited them over and they will refuse without a reason. I’m aghast because I know my parents would kill to spend everyday with their grandbabies!!

I know I can’t change anything. I hate it’s so expensive to fly to Australia! I hate my parents are not well off and can’t afford to visit! They’ve come once and are saving up to come again. Hubby and I have even told them we can help a bit. My dad has offered to send my mom on her own just to save money. I hate that for them! I want them to be next door and my babies see them everyday and be loved so much by two more people! My parents are one of the best in the world! They are so wonderful and sacrificial! They deserve the world and especially their only grandbabies to be nearby to hug and kiss and love on them all day everyday!!!!

Two years ago, we moved about 300 miles away. It sucked for me because now we are not near family. In-laws have come to visit once. Once! In two years. Again, I can’t believe it. They can afford to travel but choose not to. My parents would give anything to see us once every two years! I’m trying to respect their decisions but can’t help think of my parents. I get so upset with my in-laws in my mind. I guess that’s how they stay “well off”, don’t spend too much money. It just annoys me for the kids. They deserve loving grandparents nearby 💔

Today, Alice (my wife) sent me a text while at work, excited to try a new recipe she found in a magazine the previous week. She planned to grab the ingredients on her way home, which slightly bothered me since I already had our weekly meals planned, and I prefer any changes to be discussed a week prior. Despite this, I agreed to let her go ahead with her cooking adventure.

Upon returning home, Alice wasted no time in the kitchen, enthusiastically preparing the meal. While I worked in my home office, she busied herself with chopping vegetables and boiling pasta. About an hour later, she beckoned me to join her in the kitchen, where she presented the meal with pride. There were candles lit and glasses of red wine, setting a lovely scene. However, as soon as I tasted her chicken and noodle casserole, I knew something was off—it was extremely salty, reminiscent of pickles. I spat it out and asked her, quite perplexed, what had happened. It turned out she mistook a tablespoon of salt for a teaspoon.

I pointed out that her excitement might have clouded her attention to detail, which could have been avoided if she weren’t so carried away. Alice's face turned red, and she quietly said she just wanted to do something nice. Feeling frustrated, I trashed the casserole and opted to order a pizza, abandoning the night’s planned meal.

After ordering, I questioned her on how she intended to prevent such mishaps in the future. Her response was defensive, suggesting I should just “drop it,” which only added to my frustration. I felt disrespected that she didn’t acknowledge the waste of both food and money. Now, she’s giving me the silent treatment. It’s exhausting to deal with her moodiness. She probably expects an apology, but really, wasn’t I the one who ended up saving our dinner?

If this scenario were on a reality show, the dramatic dinner debacle could have easily been a highlight of the episode. Viewers might sympathize with Alice's attempt to do something special or might side with the practical frustrations of sticking to the planned budget and meals. Either way, the tension and subsequent silent treatment could stir up a lot of audience reactions, guessing whether the argument would escalate or resolve with an apology.

I don’t know why but these last few days have felt like weeks.

Everything feels longer slower even.

Like it’s moving by inch by inch.

Like a movie that you’re watching while you trying to keep your eyes open.

You’re trying so hard but when you blink for a long moment it’s still on the same scene.

Everything is just feels pointless.

Like there’s no important end result to any of my actions.

I have the energy to do stuff.

It’s rarely me ever being tired it’s more the lack of motivation.

My body just won’t let me do things I used to.

I’ve learned that energy is like a kids birthday money

you know you have it but yet you will never be able to spend it before it’s gone.

It’s like I’m physically being held back by my brain.

I leave a room and the smile that was there just turns blank.

Everything turns blank so what was the point of all that?

Why is everything watered down?

Things that used to make me giggle hard enough to the point where my stomach would hurt

now makes me give a brief smile if I’m lucky.

I have to force myself to laugh.

I’m not funny anymore.

It’s like my sense of humor expired and now it’s copying the world around it.

I want to be see as funny and outgoing but it never works.

Giving up on that I wanted to be seen as mature and put together

but it just comes off as just stupid dreams of a child

and gets shut down within the first five seconds.

I started to express myself in the page. In the sketchbook.

It looked like a cringe worthy sight but it was how I felt.

So I drew images I saw online and called my own art

because technically that’s what it was.

But deep down it was more. It was how I felt.

A bunch of scribbles that to the normal person would be seen as an image and not a cry for help deep down.

Multiple people saw these dark gore filled pages and didn’t bat an eye.

They complimented it said how good it looked how it was my style not my feelings.

I wish people would see more.

I wish they could see how much I feel trapped.

I wish I could be freed from my brain.

I’ve recently found myself not enjoying most of my old hobbies.

Playing video games feels like chores when I’m alone.

Drawing outside of school hasn’t been done in ages.

I just sit. I sit.

I sit and feel like I want to cry yet my eyes won’t give me the relief of crying.

My chest stays compressed. Having that hurt sad feeling.

I remember joining theatre and thinking acting was easy.

Maybe that’s cause I had always been doing it. I was always able to spot it.

But now I’m seeing it and feeling it in my environment and it’s messing with my head. Just like everything else I’ve done has.

Seventh grade I remember thinking I wasn’t good enough

and hurting myself while I was watching the older better kids.

I had done basketball just as long as the other kids.

Why can’t I do it the same?

Last year it was speech.

I joined expecting greatness but I got last after last after last.

I got our results only to find out I had majority of the problems.

I felt like I was holding you back.

Not allowing you to reach you full potential. Not allowing you to fly.

I remember telling myself I wasn’t good enough.

But this time I didn’t have the experience.

Why was I so hard on myself?

All this happened year after year.

I haven’t yet had my annual burnt out self hatred.

I know it’s coming I can feel it.

I know that my mental health is depleted but yet I know the worst is yet to come.

And I know I’m going to sit there in silence through the whole thing like I’ve done for years.

There used to be so much but then it just went numb

I see things that should hurt me and I know they do

But I just get nothing

I’ve been working at this company for only a few weeks now, and honestly, I’m already exhausted by how much self-control it takes to be kind all the time. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not rude, and I don’t snap at anyone, but internally? I’m fighting a war every day just to keep my mouth shut. Some of these coworkers act like they’ve never heard of basic courtesy or professional boundaries. They overshare, they interrupt, they make assumptions, and it’s like I’m expected to keep smiling through all of it. Clients aren’t much better. You can be polite, patient, even go out of your way to help—and still, they’ll throw some passive-aggressive comment your way or complain that you didn’t “sound friendly enough.” I get it; everyone has their own crap to deal with, and maybe I’m being too sensitive. But seriously, how are you supposed to be kind when people keep pushing your buttons?!! I try to breathe through it, tell myself it’s just a job, it’s just people being people, but it’s tough. And the worst part is—I want to be kind. I want to be seen as someone who’s approachable, easy to work with, someone who makes things better, not worse. But when you’re constantly dealing with entitled attitudes and phony small talk, it becomes less about kindness and more about performance. And that performance wears you out.

The thing is, I don’t think I’m mean. I just think I’m running out of energy to fake warmth all the time. Is kindness supposed to feel this forced? I watch some of my coworkers smile so easily, laugh with clients, crack jokes in meetings—and I wonder, how do they do it?? Are they not tired? Are they not annoyed? Or am I just wired differently? There’s this pressure to keep up the vibe, be the guy who’s always positive, who never rolls his eyes, never says the thing everyone’s thinking but knows they shouldn’t. But suppressing those reactions—it’s messing with my head. It feels dishonest. And yet, saying what you really feel? That gets you labeled difficult or unprofessional. So I sit there, nodding, agreeing, thanking people who make my job harder, pretending not to care when someone takes credit for something I did. I replay conversations in my head on the way home, wondering if I sounded cold, if I should’ve smiled more, if I was too blunt. And it’s not just about how others see me; I don’t want to turn bitter. I’ve seen what that looks like, and it’s ugly. So I try, every day, to show kindness even when it doesn’t feel earned—especially then, actually; because I guess that’s the whole point of kindness, right? But it’s not easy. And some days, I wonder if anyone notices. Or cares. Maybe I’m just overthinking the whole thing. But you ever feel like being kind is more about survival than sincerity? Like, if you stop being kind, everything around you would collapse? What’s the line between being a decent person and being a doormat? 🧠

okay so im an immigrant and i emigrated to Ireland. I have an Irish friend and me and my other friend, who's half Dutch, were talking about the racism that immigrants have to deal with. then my Irish friend comes up to us and starts annoying us while we were in the middle of a deep talk. when we tell her to stop, she says to just continue our conversation, except she will join in. I was already really ticked off and I got really angry so I told her that she wouldnt understand because shes not like me and my other friend (i know that sounds really bad, but we made up after that). after that, she walked away and started writing in her notebook. (she didnt know that we were talking about racism and immigrants dealing with racism btw) so then I went up to her and I told her that it sounded really bad out of context and that I didnt mean it. she wrote 'you did' in her notebook. then she started walking back to where me and my other friend were sitting and I followed her. she started saying about how she did understand bc her mom left her when she was 4. then she sat down with us and I told her that I only said that because me and my other friend were both from different countries, so we would understand the racism that we face in Ireland more than she would. then she went on a rant about her mother leaving her and about how her mom moved to England, so she understands being from a different country, even though she is Irish. after that I changed the subject and then she started saying the different ways that she would kill her mom if she found her and also saying that she would kill her 5 year old half sister if she could. it was just a really uncomfortable conversation. me and my friend still listened to her though, because we didnt want to make her upset.

I think that this is less of a question and more of a vent. I was at a festival recently and for the first time in a while I felt genuinely happy and optimistic about my life and my future, it was 100% one of the best days of my life. Though afterwards, my dad sent me all of the videos and photos that he took and I’m in nearly all of them. I’m so ugly in each one and it’s not subjective or me being insecure, I am truly ugly and there’s no redeeming me. It makes me feel really sick and I got so angry at my dad for ruining my memories by reminding me how I looked, and how even when I was my happiest and smiling I still looked dreadful. It makes me embarrassed to go outside because I know that people are seeing my face and judging me. Even if they’re not judging me, they’re feeling sorry for me or are disgusted. I struggled to sit with my family for dinner tonight and nearly cried because I was aware that they could all see my face, and that’s mainly what made me write this. This sounds silly but I wish that we were all nothing but our souls, and had no physical bodies to worry about. I regularly struggle with suicidal thoughts anyway and I feel hopeless because every time I start to feel better I gain something else that makes me want to die. I suppose I’m just looking for validation on here so does anyone else relate? Or has anyone else also accepted that they’re ugly and have learnt to live with it? I’m 15 so perhaps my face will change overtime, but for now I can just see myself getting fatter and uglier by the day because of my horrible thoughts, so no hope.

so I've been friends with her for about 3 years, and I'm not even over exaggerating when I say she has no concept of things beyond what she has experienced. she literally thought sore teeth didn't exist because she never had them. so anyway she judges me for practically everything I do, and I swear its like she struggles being happy for me, when I literally went on call with her to give her advice while she was talking to a guy, listened and hyped her up for three days straight when the guy was all she ever talked about. so recently when we were volunteering these two guys came up to us and one was tall and kinda cute and the other was not ugly but he looked like REALLY young like out little brothers young, and the tall guy asked for my number and the short one asked for hers. I was already looking at her though because she has pulled all the guys in the past so I didn't even expect one to ask for my number. so afterwards we kinda just went on with what we were doing and she kept calling them chopped chuz when mine wasn't acc chopped... so like I kinda just acclimated to what she was saying and agreed but she literally wouldn't stop calling them chopped like literally doing it nonstop so I started getting deffensive bc he acc wasn't and it was annoying me. so she like reluctantly stopped for a bit. so I've been texting him and stuff and he is actually super sweet, but one time I asked her for advice for what to text because he said something I didn't know how to respond to and she just said "idk just stop talking to him" and switched the conversation to her. so I confronted her about it and literally reminded her about how I listened to her talk about her crush for three days straight, and she literally just disregarded it. she literally gets like upset when I talk about him. and on another tangent, I get tired super easily. like, get 12 hours of sleep and still be yawning in class tired. because of it, I don't always want to hang out after school with her, and recently she has started getting petty about it. whenever I say I don't want to hang out she literally says "ohh is baby too tierdd did she not get her Naptime" like what in the highschool musical bullying... like ik I'm making all of this sound like a joke but it's actually so draining. I don't think she realizes how many little comments she makes but they have gone from not thinking before speaking to passive aggressive and targeted. I'm not compleatly innocent either, I 100% have done things passive aggressively, but I make sure never to do them unprovoked, and always try to at least keep it in check. she has not only just started doing this either, she has not thought about what she says for the three years I've known her. it broke me down a bit, and she knows it. she just doesn't seem to care about what I have to say. she forces me to keep conversation going if I try talking or just interrupts me and brings the topic back to her. I somtimes say stuff like I wish I had more friends, but then she says 'your not gonna get any friends if you just sit around and never talk to anyone" and that's true, but then when I try to talk with new people she dominates the conversation, interupts me, and answers for me. she answers for me A LOT and it's actually so annoying. she is so hypocritical and will tell me not to do something, only to do the exact same thing herself. I just dont know what to do about her anymore. I guess I just want to know if I'm overreacting or not. there's a lot more, but that's way to long to write about.

thanks for getting this far

I feel like my husband no longer finds me sexually attractive. :( We made love for the first time in like 6 days today. He never orgasms to me anymore unless I give him head. He only fucked me for like 3 minutes & wasn’t nearly as hard as he has been when we first met & he didn’t orgasm. Honestly everytime I sleep with him these days I just feel so shitty about myself afterwords. I feel like I am no longer what he wants sexually. There has been times in the past I have caught him sexting with other women. Getting very hard & cumming to PICTURES RANDOM WOMEN ARE SENDING ON SNAPCHAT…. But he can’t cum to his wife while he’s literally inside me? Basically the only foreplay we ever do is me sucking him off. He never returns the favor. He doesn’t really show my body love like I want him to. I don’t even remember the last time he said my body looked beautiful. I’m a big girl and I was recently scrolling through his X (Twitter) likes on his phone & he swears up nd down he loves big girls (which in the past his likes were all big girls, but now all his porn liked on X are small girls.) If he was sexually attracted to me he would get hard & cum…. He would want to make love rather than just putting it in me for 3 mins and calling it good. There was no kissing, no caressing, no dirty talk, no moaning on his side, no orgasm. Nothing. And I am they type person who likes to be very sexually active. If it was lift to me we’d be having sex like twice a day. I just feel really shitty about myself & needed to rant. Any opinions on this?

I'm 41, living in San Francisco, and working in IT—a field I used to love, or at least respect. But lately, it feels like I’m just drifting through loops of Jira tickets and endless Zoom calls, chasing deadlines that don’t mean anything. The money’s fine, the perks are shiny, and yet every morning I wake up with this dull ache in my chest, wondering, Is this really it? 😶 You ever look at your screen and feel like you’re coding your soul into oblivion? I’ve spent nearly two decades optimizing systems and building apps, but for what? At some point, I stopped building anything that felt like it mattered. I find myself googling “farm jobs in Portugal” or “how to start a tiny house Airbnb in the woods.” A part of me wants out, desperately, and not in a dramatic way—just a quiet pivot into something real. Something grounded.

I had a conversation last week with a friend who left his engineering job to become a school counselor. He told me, “I make half as much, but I sleep better and laugh more.” That stuck with me. What’s the point of security if you’re never mentally present to enjoy it? I keep picturing a life with fewer pings and more peace. I want to do work that aligns with my values, where I’m not just another node in a corporate network. Maybe I’ll teach, maybe I’ll run a coffee truck in a mountain town; I don’t know yet, and that uncertainty is actually kind of exciting. Even my therapist said, “Sometimes burnout is just your soul begging you to pay attention.” And I am. I’m listening—finally. I’ve started saving more aggressively, decluttering my place, and having the tough conversations with myself. Do I stay and numb myself with stability, or leap and try to rediscover meaning?

If you’re still reading this, maybe you’ve felt it too—that pull toward something different. Something simpler, more aligned. I’m not naive; I know leaving a career at this stage isn’t easy. But maybe what’s harder is staying in a space that quietly chips away at your spirit. I don’t hate tech, but I do resent what it turned me into—a guy who checks his Slack messages on vacation and calls it “being responsible.” 🤦‍♂️ There’s a whole world out there, and I’m finally curious enough to step into it. One of my favorite quotes lately is from Joseph Campbell: “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” So I guess the question is—what are you afraid to leave behind; and is it truly serving you, or just keeping you comfortably stuck?

I know that there are people suffering more out there, I’m a great listener! But sometimes I need someone to listen to me as well.

I hope I’m just going through a teenage nightmare

I think my parents hate me, especially my mom. She just slammed the door at me

I mean I do love my parents, but why do they dislike me? Well here is the answer: My dad is living in Korea, and my mom is in Hong Kong with me. She wants to go back to Korea but she’s afraid that I’ll be too dumb to catch up on Korea’s harsh teaching environment. I think she wants me dead, I’m just being emotional am I? Well I hope I am, my parents wanted me, that’s why they got me, but now that they have me, I’m starting to feel like I’m ruining things. I wanted to make things easier and better for everyone, why how come things turn out like this? I made it worse for others, and twice as tragic for myself, sometimes I care about others a bit too much. My friends at school uses me, my teachers hate me for being too smart, or sometimes asking questions without evidence when other kids litterally threw a bottle across the classroom which could have hit someone hard. My parents hates me, my teachers hates me, why classmates are fake friends, who do I rely on now? The internet is my only hope I suppose

I grew up in a very religious family where our faith has always guided our lives and choices. The teachings I’ve known my whole life tell me that being gay is wrong, and yet, I feel these undeniable attractions that make me question everything. I’ve tried to push it down, to change, to pray it away, but it’s always there, a part of me I can’t ignore.

I don’t know how to reconcile my beliefs with who I am. It feels like every day, I’m torn between two worlds: the expectations of my family and faith, and the reality of my own heart. Am I wrong for feeling this way? Is this something I can change, or should I even try? I’ve heard so many opinions, but deep down, I just want to know if I can truly be at peace with both my faith and myself.

If anyone has gone through something similar, or if you have advice, I’d really appreciate hearing from you. I feel so lost and alone in this struggle, and I just need someone to help me see a way through this.