Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Is it me or are some song lyrics more relatable than others. One of the song lyrics I relate to is

"It was never to end like this"

"so go ahead and tell me what I did to deserve this " From Hurtlees by Dean Lewis. 🎵

This can be related to your mental health struggles or friendship that has ended.

No one is this family respects my boundaries like tonight I said I dont want my cat going out in the dark and they let him out anyway! So cool to not respect a simple request that has been said over and over! Ive already lost one cat because of her doing that and if I loose him Im just going to be stuck with a dog I dont connect with and wishing I was just a bit more pushy

I’m a father to a pair of lively 6-year-old twins, and my partner is a dedicated stay-at-home mom who has recently embraced the whole earthy, organic lifestyle. She is deep into everything from essential oils to banning all processed foods. She used cloth diapers when the kids were smaller and is completely against conventional choices. Initially, I supported it because it all seemed in line with promoting a healthier way of living, which obviously I want for our children. However, it’s starting to escalate to points I hadn’t anticipated.

Currently, the biggest struggle we’re facing is about the education of our twins. My wife is adamant they should be homeschooled. She labels the public schooling system as “toxic” and argues our kids will merely become “conformists” if they attend. She’s even found support and camaraderie within her network of like-minded parents who homeschool, which has only fueled her resolve. Despite my concerns about the practicality of homeschooling twins while maintaining a well-rounded education, she dismisses any alternative discussion out of hand.

She’s fearful of bullying in public schools and anxious about losing influence over what they learn. I’m just not sold on the idea that she can maintain an effective homeschooling schedule.

During the summer, I hoped she’d develop a structured plan or routine to test out her homeschool approach. Instead, it’s been a mix of different teaching philosophies and intermittent classes with other homeschooled children, leaving our kids often unengaged and visibly lagging.

Regrettably, I enrolled the twins in public school without her agreement, convinced it was in their best interest. When I informed her, she felt utterly betrayed and lamented that I was undermining her position as their mother. She accused me of lacking trust in her parenting abilities, which isn’t my intention—I just worry she’s underestimated the demands of homeschooling.

The first school week passed with her determined to prove the kids were unhappy, though, from what I could see, they enjoyed their experience, making new friends and taking to their teacher. Yet, she is insistent they’re only pretending, to not disappoint me.

Now, she is considering pulling them out mid-year to take up homeschooling again, but I feel I need to stand firm on this. I believe public school suits them better at this point. Despite her accusations and feeling increasingly like the villain in her story, my priority lies in what I consider best for our children’s future and education.

If this were to unfold in a reality show, I can only imagine the public voting on each decision, probably analyzing our parenting choices and maybe even questioning our relationship dynamics over this schooling debate. Sometimes, that kind of scrutiny might offer new perspectives, or it could just intensify the drama.

Am I wrong for signing up the twins for public school without her agreement? Should I have approached it differently?

I have no one to rant to, my friends invalidate my feelings so I decided to hop on here.

To start, I have no siblings, whenever me and my parents fight, it's either it will end with silence or it will end with more bickering. I usually end the argument by staying quiet to avoid saying disrespectful and hurtful words towards them, but as time progresses, I naturally start realizing how hard it is to understand one another. It's like every time, we argue, I see the vision of me stepping away bit by bit, I love them with my whole heart, I genuinely do. But sometimes, I don't want to tolerate their attitude nor their behavior, I just want to blast myself with music, and slowly cry it all out till I'm drained. I reached my limit once again, when they said that I am just like someone that I don't really like, I was really in disbelief, because I try my best to differentiate myself to them. But it's obvious that it didn't work:) I am angry and hurt, and overall just disappointed. I know I am better than them, I different, but it seems like to them we are just the same. It pains me to even remember the words they said towards me, I don't know what to do nor say, I just want to cry and have a breather.

that feeling of burnout. have you ever felt that? that state wherein you are constantly being pushed and pulled away by sadness and happiness. it’s weighing up on me. i don’t think i can make it in the long run :)

My husband and I have a bustling household with four kids: one from my previous relationship, two from his, and one we share together. We've always aimed to be fair in our treatment towards all our kids, though it can be a challenge with our extended families. For instance, his parents occasionally take his kids on trips, while my child prefers not to go along if I'm not involved. We've never seen this as a significant problem since we ensure any family trips include everyone.

However, a recurring issue is with my stepdaughter, Emily, who quite often opposes anything the other kids or we enjoy. Take our winter trip to Colorado, which she initially was eager about until she realized the other kids were having fun too, then suddenly she wanted to cut the vacation short. This pattern repeats everywhere – zoos, museums, you name it, and if people are already happy about it, Emily quickly soured on the idea.

We thought it might be beneficial to offer her some one-on-one time with each parent. Despite trying that alongside joint activities to show parental harmony, the situation didn't improve. Even female-oriented days with her mom and me haven't gone down well, making it clear that over enthusiasm on our part somehow triggers her discontent.

Her peculiar behavior extends even to meals. If someone expresses liking for a dish, Emily is quick to criticize. She shows a peculiar preference for activities or things that others show no interest in, and this attitude prevails even when she's with her aunt and cousins. We have tried discussing her behavior with her sister, but the only insight we get is a helpless shrug and a blunt descriptor that’s best left unmentioned.

With persistent issues, we let Emily pick day trips, even suggesting she could bring a friend along, but even then, if anyone shows enthusiasm for her choice, she becomes discontent, griping that her ideas shouldn't be enjoyed by others.

This year's major planning involved a trip to Disney, a dream for my nephew who, due to his battle with cancer, has had limited social interactions and family experiences. However, as excitement built among everyone else, Emily immediately dismissed the idea as stupid, dampening the enthusiasm. Her dad, wrapped up in his seasonal workload, backed out, seeing the business necessity. So, I proceeded with the bookings for myself, my sister, my nephew, and our three kids, deciding not to include Emily, as she expressed clear disinterest.

My husband thinks excluding her might be too harsh, but with my nephew's special circumstances, I feared her constant complaints could spoil this potentially once-in-a-lifetime experience for him. So now, I'm left wondering, have I been unjust?

Imagine if this were on a reality show, the public scrutiny could intensify dramatically. Viewers might sympathize with the challenges of blending a family, while others could argue that my approach may encourage feelings of exclusion or resentment in Emily. The court of public opinion in such scenarios can be fiercely divided, with every action and decision magnified under the relentless spotlight of social media and television viewership.

Hello! I'm Caralia.

so I've been in therapy since 2nd grade. like holy shit, we know it's been a while. I have (diagnosed) minor depression and major anxiety. I used to feel refreshed and gleeful. now i just feel overwhelmed and pissed when I vent about my problems. If you check my profile and my other stories, you'd understand why I have a therapist. anyways, back to my current problem. therapy used to make me feel energized and happy, but now I only feel exhausted and aggravated. since i'm a minor, everything I tell to the therapist is like ammo to tell my parents. I fucking hate it. don't get me wrong, i love my therapist. she's a great woman. i think therapy like lost it's benefits so i've been trying this out. I'm naturally a pessimistic person, but i am always smiling and being nice to everyone. i'm outgoing and social, but like sometimes i feel like 25% of me is like... faked?? idk i'm crazy. Love you guys.

I have no idea what to do. Like, I swear, my brain has been looping this same question over and over for weeks, and I still don’t have an answer. Do I break up with him? Or do I stay? I keep going back and forth. One minute I feel so sure that I need to end it, that I can’t do this anymore, that I’m just not happy. But then the second I actually think about saying the words out loud, I freak out. What if I regret it? What if this is a huge mistake? What if I let go of something that I’ll never find again? I feel like no matter what I do, I’m gonna end up hurting—either I stay in a relationship that doesn’t feel right anymore, or I leave and then spend months wondering if I made the worst decision of my life. And yeah, okay, maybe I’m being dramatic, but it feels dramatic. It feels like my whole world is balancing on this one choice and no matter which way I go, I’m gonna mess something up.

It’s not like he’s a bad boyfriend. He’s actually really sweet. He tells me he loves me, he texts me good morning and good night, he’s never done anything to hurt me. So why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like something is missing? I keep thinking that maybe I just got too used to him, that maybe I’m just bored, and that’s a me problem, not a him problem. But at the same time, shouldn’t I be excited to be with my boyfriend? Shouldn’t I want to text him, to spend time with him, to tell him things? Lately, I just… don’t. I see his name pop up on my phone and instead of getting happy, I feel tired. And I hate that. Because he doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve to be with someone who isn’t fully into it. But then I think about actually telling him, about actually breaking up, and it hurts. Like, I can already imagine his face, the way he’ll look at me, like I just shattered his whole world. And the idea of being the reason he’s sad? The reason he’s heartbroken? I don’t think I can handle that.

And then there’s the whole what if I never find someone else? part. I mean, sure, I’m only 15, I know that logically there are gonna be other people in my life. But what if no one else ever treats me as good as he does? What if I’m just being selfish and expecting some unrealistic movie kind of love that doesn’t even exist? What if I leave and then realize I just ruined something that could have lasted forever? And then I think about being single and it terrifies me. Not just the being alone part, but the whole starting over part. The thought of having to meet someone new, go through all the awkward first conversations, figuring out if we even like each other, getting used to a whole different person’s way of texting, of talking, of being… it sounds exhausting. And at least with my boyfriend, I know him. I know how he is, I know how to be around him, I know he loves me. And maybe that’s enough. Maybe I don’t need butterflies or whatever, maybe I just need to appreciate what I have. But what if I’m just forcing myself to stay because I’m scared of leaving? And if that’s the case, isn’t that kinda worse?

I wish someone could just tell me what to do. I wish I could fast forward to a year from now and see if I’m happier if I break up with him or if I’ll just be sitting there, crying over what I lost. But I don’t get to know that. I just have to decide. And I don’t think I can. I don’t think I’m ready. But how long can I keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not?

All I want is your presence, not your presents.

Very rarely am I good with words, and this time may be no different, but I wanted to share my feelings from tonight. As I pack my apartment again, I think about the next steps and what is coming. I am moving to a larger space in a new area. Thankfully, I will still have friends and family nearby, but I feel so empty about the situation. I think about all the times I have moved in the past 10 years and how each time has been essentially me moving myself, alone, with no help (at least not from friends or family). I think about the move from New England to the South—wow, that was a big move, right? Why wasn’t anyone here to help me? When I moved from the South to New England, at least Dad went with me; he experienced the drive with me. So why didn’t anyone welcome me back? Was everyone happy I was going so far away? Why has no one come to visit? Why am I the only one trying? Is this what love looks like?

Now I am moving again, and my brother is coming to help. My brother and I have had a rocky relationship for years, but we have both matured immensely, and I am grateful for his friendship. I never thought we would be close. I am thankful that he has offered to help me move. I didn’t have to ask, but I made sure to tell everyone in the family. He’s the only one who offered.

Still, no one has visited. No one else offered. Why don’t my parents see how much it hurts that I have been back in the South for 9 months and not once have they reached out and driven to me? Why do they tell me they were coincidentally going to visit when I tell them I have plans for a weekend? Why didn’t they offer to help me move?

I have driven over 10,000 miles to see my family and set up the business, yet no one has even driven 10 miles to see me. My dad came all the way to Wichita (4 blocks from my new apartment) to pick up a friend’s child, but he can’t do that for me? Nana says that if anything were wrong and I needed help, he’d be here immediately, but why do I need to wait until I need help? I asked for help paying for a resume service, yet he made me feel like he wasn’t willing to help, only willing to “pay me back” for the driveway. Seriously?

Do they not know how it feels to call my brother and hear my mother in the background because she has visited? Are they closer? Yes. Do they have kids? Yes. But there is no excuse for not visiting a child over 9 months when they are only a few hours away. Hell, they didn’t visit for 7 years in Maine except when my brother and I FORCED them to get on a plane to visit me. We paid for the entire trip; Mom and Dad had to do nothing. Always citing money and time, they were able to buy all this fancy quilting equipment and build another building to expand out of their own pocket, yet they didn’t have time or money for me.

Why am I so much less important? Why did no one ask if they could attend my graduation for my Master’s degree? What do I have to do to make my parents happy or proud of me? Why do I care anymore?

Do they resent me for being gay? Lord knows I have learned not to bring anyone around, as I feel like it’s always a shit show. And then my mother sits me down to talk about how “she feels they have done a good job of accepting me being gay.” Why do my tears sting my skin every time I cry? What have I done to receive such treatment? What do I have to do just for them to try and meet me halfway?

I guess I really won’t get anywhere from this, but I wanted to type it out. I cry, it hurts, and I don’t know what to do to change it. I can’t have a healthy relationship with anyone because I don’t know what that looks like. I am broken. I have always been broken. Who am I?

All I want is your presence, not your presents.

So I’ve been recently spending more time with my family & sleeping over, and I’m loving it! Maybe too much…

This is more of a series of my life so pls check out my other ones lol!!

After I spent two days at my grandparents house I was really relaxed and happy? And I felt sad I was leaving to go home. So when I got home I was immediately left to a loud house. A very different contrast to a quiet, comfortable, clean grandparents house. And I have a lot of sensory issues and verbal delays so I can’t really speak for myself when im overstimulated and upset. So when I walk in I immediately want to go back to my grandparents house so I just go to my room without saying hello or anything since the tv was very loud and I didn’t want to argue with my dad. And I felt very frustrated, annoyed, upset, and somewhat disappointed??

So later that night I came down for dinner, the tv blaring an action movie, the dogs barking, dinner cold on the counter, and stepping on sharp things scattered on the floor. So first of all, I’m overstimulated. I can feel and hear everything at the same time. So I go to get some ice and water and the freezer is packed with frozen crap blocking the ice maker, making there BARELY any ice so I’m annoyed! I haven’t been home for TWO DAYS and I can’t even have ice on a hot day. So I get my ice and go eat dinner alone on at the dinner table because my parents sit on the couch and eat it together not with me. So I’m eating right? The rice is too wet… the chicken is too dry… the tvs too loud.. and my fork isn’t big enough.. I know I may sound picky and just complaining but honestly after dealing with this every day and is back home after a couple days it pisses you off. So I haven’t even been asked how my day was or any plans I have so I feel unappreciated because I want to feel cared about. So honestly I’m pissed and just annoyed so I mutter “I like grandmas house better..” so my mom asks, “Do you not like it here?” What do you think??? I’ve been asking you guys to turn down the tv multiple times a week and just asking for the questions to stop! So I’m just really annoyed and frustrated from her saying that so I say, “No, I just- it’s just so loud here all the time and it’s so quiet at grandmas house.” And I get no response which sets me off because now I feel bad for saying the truth. And now I want to cry and feel her hug but I dont ask and just leave because I felt ungrateful.

Before you say that I’m just ungrateful and a brat, I’m 13. A girl at that too. And I feel that I have complex emotions and can understand when I need to have a break or be serious. And I just want to leave in perspective this is environment had been a constant thing for 5 years now. And all of my issues and idk I’m just still developing and I have a lot of hormones and anxiety and adhd so it’s just very hard, and I have a lot of sensory issues and verbal delays.

Do you ever get that feeling when your just laughing with your friends but then you suddenly remember that there's a never ending void in your body that can never be filled of happiness or any emotion in general since ever since you were born you were taught that showing literally any emotion except happiness is wrong that till this day you still think about it and still believe that the sadness and anger you feel sometimes is just a bother?

I'm a 28-year-old woman currently residing with my mother due to my financial constraints, as I'm still completing my education with a college grant. My upbringing in the Adventist Church left me with some deep-seated emotional issues.

Since my father's death, my mother has entered a relationship with a new partner who practices an Afro-Brazilian faith. While I've expressed my struggles with religious discussions due to my Religious Trauma Syndrome diagnosed by a therapist, he has repeatedly tried to share his spiritual experiences with me. Despite requesting respectfully to refrain from this topic when we're alone, he has ignored my requests multiple times, causing me significant distress.

This repetitive breach of my boundaries led to a confrontation where I was firmer after he once again approached me with the same topic. I believed he understood my point after he became silent, perhaps feeling ashamed. However, he later complained to my mother, claiming I was rude, which resulted in a harsh rebuke from her accusing me of immaturity and intolerance. I explained my side, agreed to apologize for the tone but not for maintaining my boundary.

I personally apologized to him but reiterated my stance on avoiding religious conversations for my mental health's sake. He dismissed my approach, suggesting that adulthood involves tolerating discomfort. This makes me wonder if I'm really in the wrong here.

Imagine the drama this situation would cause if it played out on a reality show! The cameras would zoom in on our heated discussions, and viewers would probably be split. Some might applaud my stance on mental health boundaries, while others might criticize me for not being more accommodating. The producers would eat up the tension and the mixed reactions from the audience would add even more spice.

Am I being unreasonable here?

I have undianosed dyscalculia, and it really just overall sucks a lot. I take a lot longer to get things done in math class, and I've even gone to dislike games that everyone considers fun because I can never contribute as well as my teammates. Ever since I was about six I've kind of known that something was wrong, but every time my parents tried convincing me that I was good at math and just talking down on myself, even though I could hardly understand the concepts. it just kept getting worse as time went on, though, and now I have no idea how to bring something like that up. My math teacher has expectations for where the class should be, and I'm not there at all, if it weren't for two other people in the class then we would have way harder lessons. I've had a friend call me stupid (in a friendly joking kind of way, not at all knowing about any of this because we always joke about me being terrible at math), and even though it used to be a joke now it just hurts. I'm scared for next year because I know it's just going to get harder, and I don't think my parents are going to help get me diagnosed because they genuinely belive theres nothing wrong (I've had to have a doctor tell them I had anxiety way higher than people my age for them to belive me, which makes me think they don't trust me or just listen to me).

It's gotten to the point where I genuinely feel really dumb and stupid, even though I know I can't really help it. it also doesn't help that everything just slips out of my head, so if I do ever figure something out I can never remember and have to start all over.

I am from Philippines and I struggle with depression. I'm currently pregnant now, I'm 23 years old. I have finished my studies, I have now a profession, and a regular job. But my parents are disappointed in me by being pregnant because my boyfriend didn't finished his studies yet, he is a graduating student now. I feel depressed. Even I put up with my parents need of money they always see me as if I have committed the greatest sin on them. I don't want to abort this baby, also here in Philippines abortion is illegal. I can't really sleep because it bothers me a lot, I'm 6months pregnant now (25weeks and 2 days) and I'm depressed for everything my parents have made me feel, they told me things, very hurtful things because I am pregnant now

I don’t even know where to start. For as long as I can remember, there’s been this feeling deep inside me, a constant whisper that I’m not good enough. Every day, I ask myself, why do I hate myself so much? And every day, I come up empty. It’s like I’m stuck in this loop, and I can’t figure out how to break free.

The crazy part is, from the outside, you’d probably think my life is fine. I have a decent job, supportive friends, and a family that loves me. But none of that seems to matter when the voice in my head tells me over and over that I’m a failure. It’s not like I choose to feel this way—it’s just there, like a shadow I can’t escape.

For me, the self-hate started small. I’d beat myself up over little things, like saying something awkward in a conversation or getting a bad grade in school. Back then, I thought everyone did that. But over time, those thoughts got louder, and now it feels like they’re all I can hear. No matter what I do, I’m constantly second-guessing myself. Did I handle that situation right? Did I offend someone without realizing it? Am I even worth anyone’s time?

Social situations are the worst. I’ll be in a group, and instead of enjoying the moment, I’m obsessing over whether people actually like me. I’ll replay conversations in my head for days, analyzing every word I said and convincing myself I sounded stupid or needy. The worst part is, even when people tell me I’m fine or that I’m overthinking, I don’t believe them. It’s like my brain won’t let me accept anything positive about myself.

And don’t even get me started on my appearance. Some days, I can barely look in the mirror. I pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, and wonder how anyone could find me attractive. I know it’s unhealthy, but it feels impossible to stop. Social media doesn’t help either. I’ll scroll through Instagram and see all these perfect people with perfect lives, and it just makes me feel worse. I know it’s fake, but it still gets to me.

At work, it’s the same story. I could spend hours on a project, pouring everything I have into it, but as soon as I hand it in, all I can think about are the mistakes I might have made. Even when I get good feedback, it doesn’t stick. Instead, I focus on the one piece of criticism or the one thing I think I could’ve done better. It’s exhausting.

The thing is, I don’t even know where this self-hate comes from. I didn’t have a traumatic childhood. My parents were strict, sure, but they loved me and did their best. So why do I hate myself? Why can’t I shake this feeling that I’m not enough, no matter what I do?

I’ve tried all the usual advice—positive affirmations, journaling, even therapy. And while those things help in the moment, the feeling always comes back. It’s like there’s this wall between me and actually believing anything good about myself. I’ll write down things I’m proud of or things I’ve achieved, but they always feel small compared to the weight of everything I think I’ve failed at.

One of the hardest parts is how isolating it feels. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way—there are forums and articles and videos about it—but in my daily life, it’s hard to imagine anyone else struggling like this. Everyone around me seems so confident, so sure of themselves. Meanwhile, I’m over here just trying to make it through the day without falling apart.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever feel differently. Will there ever be a day where I wake up and don’t feel this weight on my chest? Or is this just who I am—a person who’s destined to hate themselves no matter what? I want to believe that things can change, but honestly, I don’t know how to get there.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the same way, I wish I had answers for you. I wish I could tell you how to stop feeling this way, but I’m still trying to figure it out myself. All I can say is, you’re not alone. And maybe that’s the first step—just admitting that we’re struggling and trying to find a way forward, even if it’s messy and imperfect.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for now, I’m just trying to hold on to the hope that it doesn’t have to be like this forever. Maybe there’s a way to break free from this cycle. Maybe one day, I’ll look in the mirror and see someone worth loving. Until then, I’ll keep asking the question, why do I hate myself?—and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find an answer that helps me heal.