Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

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.

Hi everyone, so this is my first time venting here and I don't know if anyone will read this but i have to tell someone.

(sorry if there are any typos or if my english is bad)

So basically I have this online friend who I have been friends with since 2024 (Marking 2 years this month), let's just call him E. He actually asked me to be moots on tiktok because he liked my videos and we were in the same fandom, so of course I said yes (which was a rare moment as I usually never befriended strangers) and we would text each other everday. He referred to me as his longest IBF everytime and so did I. But in 2025 in february we joined a discord server, that our mutual friend (let's call him SLT) introduced us to. Everything was fine and we met some new people. E and I were still very close and talked a lot. But then at some point in late August I was absent for a month till september, because i just did not feel well mentally. In that time, I would sometimes be on discord, but just not say anything. In all that time when I was gone, E never asked if I was okay or if I'm even still alive (I told him a lot about me in the past). E got closer to someone else who I will refer to as D (Who is in the same server btw). E and D texted each other everyday and even had a whole ass streak on tiktok, something E never had with me. E even wrote in his social media bios: "D is such a cool person" like he never said that about me. They played together, talked endlessly. It doesn't bother me of course, if my friends have other friends, but what DOES bother me is that he NEVER, not even once checked up on me and then calls himself my "best friend" If he can't even check up on me, while I'm gone, then what does this say about our friendship? So I was pissed, when I returned and we had fight where he unfollowed me everywhere at some point, but we made up because guilt was starting to eat on me fast and it affected my daily life and concentration at school. When we made up, he said that he didn't block me, because he still wanted me as his friend and to be honest: I get it, I love this idiot so much and he is the bestest and longest online friend I had as well. People in the server we're in even shipped our OC's but after my absent suddenly E and D shipped their OC's together. It annoys me how E started talking to me less and less and he was always like: "I just don't know what to say" Oh but you know what to say when you're with D? D and I are friends too but I lowkey hate him and I hate E too but I don't at the same time. I told E multiple times how I feel but he doesn't really understand it or ignores it. I told him: "If you don't want to be friends anymore it's okay, because not all friendship's hold forever" and he was like: "No, I do wanna stay your friend, I value our friendship alot" that made me SO mad and I asked him why he doesn't talk to me, then unless i talk first, which he just replied with: "idk what to say" like bro just shut the hell up. The fact that this bothers me so much is insane, I find myself getting angry and my mood turns bad to the point where i am mad at people in real life and let my anger out on them. I am actually scared to block E nor do I have the balls to leave the Discord server we're in. I have other friends there but the host (Who i am friends with too) is also friends with me and he will for sure ask why I left. So I don't know what to do because I hate E but I also don't, it just hurts because he does NOT value our friendship like he said he does. A simple "Are you okay?" would've been okay but instead I got replaced. Someone else who I call S, checked up on me despite the fact that he and I aren't even that close. I saw it the moment I deciced to return.

I don't know if anyone can help me but at least I got this heavy burden off my chest, it's been bothering me for months and It makes me sick.

sometimes i ge ttired of my drums and sometiems loops but when its time to get more and i dont have cash, ... i cant even put words to describe. looking for free drumkits are dumb, and yes i know someties they want a little bit of work since its free. that still doesnt explain why they take you through 3 websites just for a little extra revenue, for you still not get the kit either because its a old link or even they just left that part out. anyways, yea i had to type a little note in a website to get the link for it no to work so here: {omg, sheesh! to think i would get a simple free drum kit but NO. whatever, this dumb tom-foolery is a good vent anyways.}

I’m 14- I’ll be 15 within the month, and I cant remember hardly anything of my childhood up until 14. I get that this is the time of edgy posting, with puberty and all that, no? But all I ask of you is to keep an open mind while you listen. I hope writing to you helps me recall.

But this has been bothering me in a way I can’t quite explain, an ache within me that tells me something is wrong. I feel like as a person, I only exist on the surface, an outer shell without a solid inner being. Or maybe it’s the other way around, like I’m buried in someone else? I don’t know where I am, but i’m not whole. I don’t know who I am, I do I know that’s still forming- normal at this age, but I feel like I was thrown into this body a year ago to pick up the pieces of someone who left without a trace. It’s so frustrating because WHERE DID THAT PERSON GO and why did they LEAVE me here. They’re not something I can prove, the only evidence I have of them is what people who knew them tell me.

But stay with me. The first time I felt awake or present as the me now was January 12th 2025, a MONTH ago, like I was shook from a daze. This might sound batshit insane to you, but remember what I’ve told you above. when my sibling made jest about part of my mother’s beating of me I didn’t even know took place, he asked, “You don’t remember?” I didn’t, but I *felt* it and was sure, like the flood the damn held crashed into me and swept me from my stagnant state. my heart began to race- head light and breath hard to find, panic, I needed to excuse myself. It took me days, but when I broke down, i finally felt like a breathing human again, for something I hardly think happened to me- like I recovered a piece of an otherwise blank slate (the beatings do not go on to this day, we have a good relationship). I journaled comprehensively about it. That was the first time I’ve felt connected to… something? I remember telling someone that I felt weird after that day, like a different person, that hasn’t gone away. But being able to remember something makes me realize how much I can’t remember, and that drives me insane. I try to remember why I still do things I do, what’s influences it, why I’m so anxious about people finding something out about me (that I don’t even know ?), so conscious about the words I use to formulate my thoughts, why they take so long for me to express, why I care about people, why I was too depressed to get out of bed a few months ago or to even hold friendships with people- and how all that just changed with a snap? That isn’t how it works. That’s what makes it even harder to trust myself as I am now. People ask me questions about myself, about an integral part of me, and I stare into space without finding a single answer. It makes me feel like I’m not real.

I’ve stumbled upon an old video of me today, one I had no recollection of, happily squealing in play with my family in our old apartment- and it sent me into a panic like the one before, it’s what got me to write this to you. There was nothing wrong with the content, but I’ve discovered it might be because I couldn’t identify that person as *me*, or seeing that apartment again paralyzed me with indescribable fear- and in tandem made me feel I was losing hold on myself again.

Enough of me. If you made it this far, I implore your perspective on the matter. How can I find what I’ve lost? Or center myself right again as this foreign person? Please leave your thoughts below if you have any- if you relate, or just wanna comment, I appreciate any of it.

Thank you -Anonymous scourge fan

Always being perceived as something I'm not, and it hurts because it comes from my family : <

i have to admit, i sometimes find myself scrolling through porn sites, looking for something to kill time or just satisfy that curiosity. it’s not like i’m addicted or anything; i could go weeks without hitting that play button. but when i do, it makes me wonder if it’s bad for me? i mean, i can’t be the only one questioning this, right? 🤔 every time i watch something, i feel a bit guilty, like there’s this nagging voice in the back of my head, telling me it's a waste of time. is it lowering my standards for real-life intimacy, or is it just a normal thing to do for a dude my age?

most of what i see is so exaggerated and just plain ridiculous. these people look unreal, and it makes me think if i’m ever going to meet someone who’s got that kind of body or skills. i mean, do i have unrealistic expectations now? who knows? all those perfect angles and lighting make the whole thing seem so fake. yet, here i am, clicking on the thumbnails, falling into that same trap over and over. sometimes, after i’m done, i feel like i’ve wasted a good chunk of my evening, just staring at a screen when i could’ve been hanging out with my friends or playing video games. 🤦‍♂️

the whole industry seems messed up too, like there’s a lot of sketchy stuff happening behind the scenes. consent issues, exploitation, and all that nonsense. it’s kinda hard to enjoy something knowing that there could be some dark underbelly involved. should i be feeling guilty for watching? am i just supporting a system that thrives on all of that? it’s tough to reconcile the enjoyment of something that may have such a questionable ethical side. i guess i sometimes feel like a hypocrite, trying to digest content that could potentially harm someone else. ugh.

and let’s be real, when i compare it with actual physical connections with people, it’s a whole different ballgame. yeah, seeing hot stuff online is fun, but can’t match the thrill of actually being with someone. so, is it really worth it? it’s like, am i trading real experiences for something so artificial? what’s the point? at the end of the day, i think it might just boil down to personal choice. but honestly, i’m curious about what everyone else thinks. is porn bad or what? are we just using it as a coping mechanism or is there something deeper going on? let’s talk about it. 💭

so my ex dumped me a few days ago and the next day turned around and said it wasn't them it was their friends who dumped me (background: we have dated before they were poly i wasn't comfortable with that so I ended things they said they had stopped seeing the other person so we got back together only for me to find out they were still seeing the other person so I ended it again) so basically the day I got dumped i went to go hang out with them at lunch and they said they weren't free so I walked away thinking nothing of it except they couldn't hang out. I was planning on walking into town in the place I live to get a mother's day present. when I approached the bridge into town one of they're friends approached me and said they didn't want to be with me anymore and all I could say was okay bc I was too hurt to anything else. I then text my ex (partner at the time) and ask if it's true they respond with a pic of said friend with their thumbs up. I block them immediately wanting nothing to do with them ever again. the next day my now ex approaches me and says non of it is true they never wanted to break up and that we should get back together.

what should I do

I don't know if this is the right place to talk about something like this but I need to get it off my chest and I don't want to emotioanlly burden my other friends by talking about this - as I've already talked to them about this and I don't know what to do about it.

Since December I've noticed one of my group of friends getting into really bad habits; more specifically with alcohol and marajuana (even more specifically, weed pens/vapes). I'm fully aware that I'm not one to throw too many stones in a glass house (not sure if I'm using that correctly) as I've tackled the same sort of problems they're experiencing, but have reached a place where I am able to do it recreationally and have a healthy relationship with it.

Where I'm from, THC and HHC have been banned, so now smoke shops are selling weed pens with really strange chemicals - I think the one my friends buy are called HHZ or HHX?? And alcohol is, of course, very easily available in most shops. Because of this accessability, my friends are buying weed vapes tri-weekly and drinking on weekdays alone. They seem to have no problem with this.

It also seems to me now, that every time I hang out with this group of friends we always end up drinking and it is exhausting. My house is also used as our main 'drinking spot,' which is putting a strain on me and my father, whomst I live with and does not appreciate the company when he has work the next day. Last week really broke me. We have a groupchat and one of them asked if 2 of them could come over to my house after they had watched a movie in the cinema to drink at 11pm. Are you fucking kidding me? I wasn't even invited to the fucking cinema and now you want to come over to my house just to drink? Am I a fucking dive bar??? Fuck you!

I never really had a problem with the weed pens either until the new HHX/Z shit came about. I myself used to smoke weed pens when they were still HHC/THC, but stopped because I was noticing that I wasn't right mentally and figured I should stop for my wellbeing. I'm worried that this is going to hurt them in the long run, especially since one of them that smokes them is in a difficult major in college and I'm worried about their performance.

Also, this seems relevant enough to throw in here, their humour and perspective on things has 'devolved' for lack of a better word. The way they talk about certain things just seems so childish and I normally wouldn't mind but sometimes it really bugs me, I don't know. And I can never talk about things that I'm interested in, and I fear that I'd get laughed at if I suggested something like "Hey, let's go to an art gallery/exhibition" or "Let's go to a jazz bar" even though that's a completely normal thing to do once in a while that doesn't involve liver damage or whatever. I know this because whenever I try to plan something new for us to try, a recent example being us going to a variety of new upcoming artists in the city, the plans always seem to conventiently fall through. But it's ok! Because there always conventiently time to go to the same fucking bar we always go to instead that have cheap drinks that get you drunk quick because why bother with something new and exciting when you can just get shitfaced!?

I feel guilty for facilitating this, but I don't know what to do. I've always had a hard time saying no but despite that I try my best to set boundaries, telling them 'no' straight-up when they ask to come over just to drink. I fear that if I voice my opinion, it will come off as a sort of 'mightier-than-thou,' since I've made it known that I've cut back on my marajuana and alcohol use over the past year after a particularly nasty bout of substance abuse following a break-up. I've talked to other people about this, but they've never given me any advice to remedy the situation - and I feel bad if I go to them for the hundredth (hyperbole) time with the same issue. I don't know. It's nice to scream into the void here instead of bothering anyone, but maybe that's just me.

So i lost a pet. A horse. A tumor, most likely, took her from us less than two days ago. Realistically i wasn't close to her. I was just a 'treat giver'. I used to ride a few years ago but I stopped a while before we even got her. Horses were HER big dream not mine anyway. SHE'S devasted. SHE'S picked up smoking again. "Only one cig" when It gets dark and SHE starts crying. I watched behind the window when they burried her. I stayed around on her last day when we were trying everything to help her. I haven't cried though. I knew was going to die. You could tell at first glance. She didn't even have the strength to get back up. But i didn't believe it. Does that make sense? To know something for certain and still refuse It? On her last few hours i was too tired and I went to bed. I set an allarm at precisely 4:00 am. Idk why. I like to wake up early I think. But that time felt like It. I thought in the morning the vet would come to help. And idk. She would Just get up and go back to being healthy and everything would be normal again. But when i woke i knew she was gone. It was too silent. The vet never came. She died during night. I knew she would die already. Her condition was too bad

She had been getting skinnier recently. And no matter what we tried she didn't couldn't put on fat. I woke up knowing she was gone. But since SHE told me i couldn't really wrap my head around it. It doesn't feel real. Like a dream. It happened fast. In the early morning she fell and didn't have the strength to get back up. And the next morning she was gone. I was close to her. But She was a normal part of life. Of family. Of routine. It's normal to see her there. A little old. Maybe a Little stupid. But there. Alive, fluffy, breathing and Gluttonous. But now she's not. She under the earth. I watched when they burried, hidden away. Honestly I hoped that it would make me cry for some reason but i didn't. I Just couldn't stop watching. I can't stop watching even now the ground that holds her body. I can't stop thinking that when i look at stable i'm gonna see her inside. She gonna be there. She should be. But She isn't. She's under the ground now. She was scared when she died. She scratched herself in the panic and she bled. Her fur was dirty. I cant stop thinking about it. I don't even know of i have the right to feel this way. I was even her owner not really. SHE was. And yet i can't think without going back to her. To her last day. To her owner's words. My stomach feels naseous. I wanna throw up. I kinda wanna cry. I think that would make feel better. I want to stop thinking. Idk what I want. I'm writing this BC i can't sleep. this Is haunting me.

The relationship between mental and emotional illnesses and the facet of social health is a topic that continues to pervade discussions in many forums. With an alarming rise in cases of such illnesses, it becomes imperative to analyze their impact on social relationships. Various studies have shown that individuals with mental health challenges often struggle with maintaining personal relationships. For instance, a report by the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) highlights that people suffering from depression might find it difficult to socialize, which subsequently leads to isolation. This isolation can aggravate the symptoms of their illness, thereby creating a vicious cycle.

Moreover, emotional illnesses further complicate the matter by affecting one's ability to communicate effectively and form genuine connections with others. People who experience anxiety may avoid certain social situations altogether due to fear and discomfort; this avoidance behavior can significantly diminish one's social circle over time. It's been noted that emotional dysregulation can often result in misunderstandings between friends or family members, causing further strains in relationships. It begs the question: how can society better accommodate individuals navigating these challenges? Despite various interventions aimed at improving societal support systems, there appears to be a gap between what is available and what is truly needed.

While some might argue that raising awareness has improved understanding of these issues, skeptics maintain that there's still much work to be done. The stigma surrounding mental health issues often prevents people from seeking help or opening up about their struggles; consequently perpetuating feelings of loneliness and alienation. A quote from renowned psychologist Dr. Smith suggests that “the societal perception of vulnerability as weakness remains a formidable barrier.” Ultimately, without addressing these underlying stigmas and enhancing support structures, it seems unlikely that significant progress will be made in ameliorating the effects of mental and emotional illnesses on social health.

OKOK SO MY DAD got like REALLY angry at me yesterday and i dont really get y??

also pls take everything i say kinda with a grain of salt cuz idk his POV and even if i try to be fair im going to kinda favour myself so...

But ok so my parents work A LOT. like i see my dad like sometimes once every 3 days a lot. even tho we live in the same house. (i see my mom more cuz she wakes up early). And this week has been extra stressfull cuz theres been kind of a faire?? (idk how to spell it) and basicly everyday theres a new even they need to prep EVERYTHING for considering dietary needs cultural diferences (people from diferent coutries come) etc etc. So theive been really tired. My dad is coming home early cuz hes so exausted some days.

But basicly, this is stressing my mom sm she got kind of a thing on her neck and her face. The doctor dosent know what it is, since it wasent smt she recognised, but its all red and itchy. The doctor thinks its a mix of stress, alergies, maybe fungi (fungus? idk) and the meds shes taking becuz she got really sick last year.

So my mom went to get it checked yesterday while my dad went home early. So my dad told me and my brother that my mom was in the doctor (since she often comes home waay after my dad) and that we were gonna pick her up later. Ofc me and my brother said ok. So we were hanging out watching tv and my dad got the message that my mom was ready. So he told us and he went to leave. So me and my brother just went to grab our jackets and i went to grab my sketchbook too (long story but i subcouciously hu57 myself if i dont have it??? im trying to fix that) and my dad told us to just come and that he would leave without us. So we got kinda angry but went without our stuff.

Idk if it is important to the thing but it is winter here and kindacold. Also my i was wearing a jacketish but it was a pijama kinda comfort jacket i shouldent wear outside my house. But me and my brother were kinda joking like and playing cuz my dad was in a good mood and we were happy but my dad got super angry and he was like yelling at us for a WHILE and he said we always disrespect him and that we treat him like shit and were gonna kill someone becuz well crash the car and i ofc got stressed so my brother said "dont say anything" and my dad said me and my brother and my mom were ploting against him and that he hopes god gives us children that disrespect us 3times more then we do becuz he dosent deserve this and my brother was crying and it was so wierd??

I kinda thought he was like using us as a vsorta explosion thing cuz he was stressed from work but i talked to my mom today and she said he did nothing the whole week and she prepared everything alone?? She wasent even saying it angry she was just saying like im worried about ur dad and stuff so i dont think it was a lie and it seems like smt he would do.

I can see his point that my mom had a rough week and it would be nice for us to be quick but we literally took less then 5 minutes to leave and i dont think it would make much diference if me and my brother grabbed a jacket and a pen in my case (the sketchbook was by the door i leave it there)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am a single mother of two kids (6 months and 5 years). I chose to be a single mother (my kids are donor conceived).

I’m lucky enough to have a good job as a French teacher in a private school, and I have a paid-off house thanks to my parents' life insurance and inheritance.

Before having my kids, I saved a year’s worth of living expenses so I could take a sabbatical to recover from birth and bond with them. While on sabbatical, I still tutor some kids for extra income.

My friend (34F) just had a baby 2 months ago. She is the breadwinner in her household, and her husband has been unemployed since he was laid off during COVID.

It was great to be pregnant at the same time as my friend and have someone with a newborn, but things have turned sour.

She’s been saying how jealous she is of me being able to take a whole year off work, how she wishes she didn’t have to worry about losing their home, and how she doesn’t even have a couple hundred dollars in savings, let alone a year’s worth of living expenses.

I usually ignore it or brush it off because I kind of understand the stress she’s under.

About 10 days ago, she started hinting that she can’t afford daycare, and any mention of her husband taking care of their kid is brushed off. She then started remarking on how much free time I must have, which I deflected by saying truthfully that being a single mom to a baby and a small kid leaves me no free time.

Last night, she finally asked if I could “do her a favor” and watch her kid while she’s at work. I was firm but polite when I said that I couldn’t; I am not capable of watching two kids under 6 months.

She started almost begging me, saying she can’t afford daycare and if she doesn’t go back to work, she’ll lose her job and they’ll end up homeless. I brought up her husband again, and she said he wasn’t good with kids and isn’t capable of taking care of their kid.

I kept saying no, she kept pushing until it escalated to her calling me heartless, and me telling her that it’s not my problem she chose to have a kid with a useless man.

Now she’s blocked me, and I feel very guilty about what I said. I feel like shit.

If this situation happened on a reality show, I wonder how the audience would react. Would they think I was being too harsh, or would they understand my point of view? Would my friend be seen as sympathetic, or would people criticize her for her choices and the position she’s put herself in?

I’ve given everything for my family for as long as I can remember.

We used to live in the countryside, and by the time I was seven, I was already working in neighbors’ orchards and farms. My parents always told me to give my best, even though they were very strict. When my brother was born, I accepted him happily. He got more attention, but honestly… I didn’t mind.

Back then, they were always working, so I was left alone most of the time—with my grandmother or my uncles. Looking back now… I realize I was pretty neglected.

As my brother grew up, my parents noticed he was rebellious, lazy, always complaining. I was about ten when my little sister was born, and I was genuinely excited. I always got along better with girls—there were more girls than boys in my town, and I struggled with severe social anxiety and shyness. But with girls, things felt easier… more natural.

So having a little sister felt perfect. Taking care of her, loving her—it came effortlessly. She grew up taller than me—she’s about 1.80 meters now. I stopped growing at thirteen… I’m only 1.50. Both my siblings are taller than me.

But there was always a problem.

When my sister was born, my father had a stable, well-paying job. Still, my parents would always say they were “busy”… even when they weren’t. So I became the one who raised my younger siblings. Whenever my friends invited me to birthdays or parties, I always said no. I couldn’t go. I had to stay home and take care of them.

At fourteen, my youngest brother was born… and it was the same story all over again.

In high school, I got a scholarship for studying in a public school. And like always, I gave everything to my family—I didn’t keep any money for myself. I kept working too. Since I was twelve, my main job has been working as a night guard in factories and warehouses. That’s where most of my money came from… money I gave to them.

One day, I wanted to tell my parents I wanted to learn how to play the violin. But they spoke first. They said it would be great if I learned guitar. So… I never told them the truth. I learned guitar because they wanted me to.

My real dream was always to become a writer… and an animator. Even though I was the only one in class still using a button phone, and my computer could barely even run.

But my family pushed me to learn modern technology. So I did. I learned programming, web development… I even became a computer technician.

One day, my mother saw me writing in a journal I had made myself—from old papers and thread. She criticized me for wanting to be a writer. I didn’t argue. I just accepted it… and abandoned my novel.

What frustrates me the most… is that they always complain. They treat me like a burden—like I’m some kind of parasite who only asks for things.

Which is ironic.

Because with my scholarship and my job, I pay for the gas, the electricity, the food. I buy clothes and shoes for my siblings… while I still wear shirts from when I was twelve. I only have two pairs of shoes—one broken pair for work, and an older but slightly better pair for important occasions.

And still… they call me spoiled.

They say they don’t have money, yet they buy expensive, branded things for my siblings. On my birthday… I didn’t get anything. Just a message from my friends. My own family didn’t even remember.

I’m twenty now… and I feel weak. I go hungry a lot because of the economic situation in my country. Sometimes, I secretly give my food to my family. When they ask, I just say I’ve already eaten.

Lately, I’ve been getting headaches. One time, my sister saw me almost collapse. But I refused help. I just keep going—working all night, then going to university from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m.

There’s something I never told my family.

I had a girlfriend. She was taller than me… and she used to be one of my babysitters. She was about eight years older than me. We started dating when I was eighteen.

When I turned twenty, I went to her house in secret… but no one was there. Then her mother called me.

She had been hit by a car.

I ran to the hospital—it was about a kilometer and a half away. When I got there… I saw her. Pale. Broken.

She apologized to me.

She said she was sorry she wouldn’t be there for my graduation… like she promised.

That night… I stayed with her.

And she died in my arms.

She was the only person who ever truly supported me… the only one who stayed when I went through moments—crises—that almost destroyed me.

When I got home… I did what I always do.

I wiped my face… and smiled.

I went to a theater school, so pretending comes naturally to me. Acting happy… acting normal.

But my little sister looked at me… and said something that froze me:

“Your eyes… they don’t shine anymore. Are you okay?”

I almost broke right there.

But I just smiled… and told her everything was fine.

And now… I keep working. Keep studying. Trying to be the perfect son my parents want.

Even though they still say I do nothing for this family.

When in reality… I’ve given them everything.

The last time I bought something for myself… I was nine years old.

After that… I stopped living for myself.

I hate being self aware. I already know all the answers to my problems, how to improve it, and what is holding me back. All I want is someone who makes me feel safe to share my problems with. However, my country is a place where mental illness is a taboo and a joke. I wish someone would tell me something I don't know about myself lol.