Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

You know, my friends, I have a hard time feeling comfortable around people. My biggest problem is that they have an extremely limited view of how to treat me, at least with those I've encountered. While I maintain a very sophisticated one with them, due to the fact that I'm always trying to give a response that, first, fits the person and, second, is foreign to their customs and those I'm used to. In itself, it unbalances me when I socialize, and that's what makes me feel the need to be alone.

I'm not interested in maintaining a language specific to a specific group, but rather, I'm interested in a language that allows me to be universal with all groups. I feel it's an interesting challenge because if I stay within a certain language, I'm not aware of what's happening in the group, given that language is there to be embedded and what it entails not distancing oneself in a way that schematizes circumstances. Furthermore, I prejudice what is external and not maintained by a norm among most groups, precisely to protect the stability of my group. Dear all, I feel that solitude precisely allows for openness to all groups, since it allows for observation and the development of responses to the development of boundaries that allow for coexistence between them and oneself. Those who are alone are considered to lack boundaries, and being alone in itself expresses that you lack the tools to socialize for this group, and that they are specifically for this group. For this reason, while there are several groups of this nature, and I haven't encountered any others, there is a diversity of language, and one must respond to it in a way that establishes consequences within the language used for a particular group if it is breached, thereby maintaining the identity of the group for me, as well as for the rest, as well as mine.

There are many people who possess this spirit, given that they insert themselves into such groups and, of course, base their actions on achieving the integration of the individual on an essence of victimhood if they fail, an issue for which one must be prepared. Indeed, then, loneliness itself, as we can see, is problematic for this social instance, and not because of loneliness itself, but because of the consideration of these groups. Loneliness, we can say, explores the thoughts that are generated within the same concrete routes of exploration of the world, precisely to give us ways to continue with this development of ideas, which in itself, I insist, is systematic, given that there is no group that holds ideas that are not such and that are assumed even as dogmas.

I have to say it: Loneliness, in today's world, is undervalued precisely because we have not been taught the ways to manage it. In itself, it has all consisted of remaining at the mercy of a group for the security that this implies, or the prejudice it entails. There is no longer concern for the context, which is what allows for non-violent behavior, and its failure to do so in itself concretizes the oft-discussed distrust among people that we all maintain when we are from different groups. In fact, I've come to view those solitary entities as a simulation of being solitary when in reality they are governed by the rules of a group, which in itself makes them belonging. Indeed, it must be said that we are part of a group when we abide by its rules, not by physical proximity, which doesn't explain those who appear alienated from the group to which they are considered to belong despite joining groups.

I believe that today it is necessary to discuss when we are part of a group, when we are inserted into the dynamics of a group, as well as the awareness of such elements precisely for mobilization among them or precisely their limitation given our ideology, which in itself is difficult, if not impossible, to result in a destructive outcome since it deprives us of support. I do not personally understand this fear conspired in such a way although I believe that it is the result of experiences in which the individual in question and others have not known what to do, which is why they resort to talking about a rough and impossible path to pass when the morphology of said path itself is expressed by the absence of tuned praxis and that precisely determine dark and impassable dimensions, being able to point out, right now that I speak of it, why the journey through such paths represent a terrain of uniqueness for when such characteristics are present in other aspects of life such as nature itself in the absence of human agents as well as certain mythologies, however, this is only to highlight, although I do not seek certainty but the development of ideas, which, its help is always felt, and its denial, it is complicated to help then will always be welcome in any way.

I have 2 accounts which one is fake and bullies ppl and my main account is to protect those ppl is that ok?

During my early years at a university known for its diverse student body, I had the fortune of being assigned a dorm room with a variety of international students. At 25 years old, the experience was eye-opening and educational in more ways than one. In our freshman dorm, the university's apparent pattern was to room one Caucasian, one American person of color, and one international student together in a triple setup. I ended up in such a trio, sharing my space with a girl from Ivory Coast. We weren't initially close, but as time went by, we bonded over common interests and shared courses, eventually deciding to room together until I moved into an apartment in my junior year.

Her beautiful hair and radiant skin always caught my eye. It wasn't just a superficial admiration; I was genuinely curious about her care regimen. She revealed that she primarily used natural ingredients such as aloe vera and shea butter. Intrigued, I took her advice and started incorporating these into my own routine. My hair and skin health improved remarkably, all thanks to her. After college, she returned to Ivory Coast, but we remained in contact, sharing stories and updates about our lives.

With the growth of my YouTube channel, which currently has around 5,000 subscribers, I began receiving numerous comments inquiring about my hair and skin care products. Inspired, I decided to create a video detailing my routines, crediting my friend from Ivory Coast for her invaluable advice. However, when I discussed this plan with my current roommate, who is Afro-Latinx, she accused me of cultural appropriation. She argued that by making the video, I would overshadow numerous beauty channels run by people of color, potentially lead to increased demand and prices for the natural products, making them inaccessible for some communities. Her words, labeling me a "colonizer," strained our relationship significantly.

If this situation unfolded in a reality TV show setting, the dynamics and reactions would likely be amplified. The cameras and audience could potentially skew perceptions, heightening drama around the accusations of cultural appropriation. Viewers might be divided, with some sympathizing with my intention to share helpful beauty tips, while others might side with my roommate, viewing my actions as insensitive to cultural origins and implications.

My husband and I have been married for three years. From our dating days, his mother, Julia, would often sneer at me and our relationship with her son, Daniel. The day we first met, she inquired about my hometown and upon my response, dismissively remarked, "We don't take kindly to people from there." As time progressed, Julia critiqued Daniel for the flowers he bought for me, ridiculed our date nights, and even attempted to sideline me during family gatherings by insisting they were for 'family only.' When Daniel and I went on vacations, she bombarded him with calls and messages, questioning why he hadn't checked on her or fabricating crises. Daniel often downplayed her actions by saying he had become accustomed to her manipulative behavior.

Over our three years of dating, Julia started to soften her approach towards me. It was an unexpected shift, and though skeptical, I was relieved to see less confrontation. When we got engaged, the proposal filled us with joy. However, telling Julia resulted in a scornful glare directed at me, followed by an accusation towards Daniel for not informing her first. Post-engagement, we reduced our interactions with her considerably.

As we began planning our wedding, Julia's attitude took a harsh turn as she sent extensive messages full of scorn and allegations to both Daniel and myself. She accused me of being disliked and Daniel of selfishness for proceeding with a wedding she disapproved of. Pushed to his limit, Daniel confronted her, stating that continuing this behavior would lead to us cutting off all contact. In response, she resorted to spreading falsehoods among her family and even doctored text messages, painting Daniel and me in a negative light. This resulted in his family siding with her and choosing to skip our wedding. The truth about her deception surfaced after our wedding when Daniel’s sister began to question inconsistencies in Julia’s stories. Eventually, the extended family learned about the manipulation and approached Daniel seeking reconciliation, which was challenging due to the depth of their betrayal. Since then, we have completely ceased contact with Julia.

Recently, I encountered her at a store. She approached me, attempting to engage in casual conversation. I sternly told her, "Just so we're clear, you and Daniel have been nonexistent to me for three years. That's not going to change, so stop talking to me." She was visibly upset and left immediately. Following this, Daniel's family has been urging us to forgive her, labeling me harsh and condemning my inability to forgive a mistake that happened three years ago.

Imagine if this drama unfolded on a reality show! The tension would certainly capture the audience's attention, sparking debates among viewers about whether my confrontation with Julia was justified or overly harsh. The intense family dynamics and the pivotal store confrontation would potentially be pivotal episodes that highlight the struggle between personal boundaries and family pressure to reconcile.

Am my being too unforgiving toward Julia?

My boyfriend, Luke, comes from a well-off family while I grew up under quite different circumstances, raised by my single mother in a modest trailer. Despite that, I've managed to start my own tech company and have become fairly successful. Luke, on the other hand, works as a software engineer in an entry-level position, earning far less than me. He's a real charmer though—always courteous, showering me with gifts, and insisting on picking up the bill when we dine out. His job isn't as demanding as mine, so he's also taken on most of the household chores and cooking, which doesn't seem to bother him at all.

I must say, my appearance can be a bit showy. My golden hair is usually enhanced with extensions, and my eyelashes are artificially lengthened. I've gotten a few cosmetic touch-ups, regularly use spray tans, and my wardrobe is filled with chic outfits and flashy jewelry. I've been endowed with a naturally ample bust, which might paint a typical "gold digger" picture when contrasted with my background and Luke's affluent upbringing, even though I self-fund all my glamorous modifications.

Recently, I was introduced to Luke's parents, who he described as quite conservative and traditional. He advised me to tone down my usual style and opt for a more modest look for our first meeting. Taking his advice, I chose a knee-length dress and wore only a simple necklace that Luke gifted me previously. Initially, everything seemed fine until his parents probed into my family background. Upon learning about my roots, their attitude shifted. Luke's mom, Tammy, inquired about my necklace, and when I explained that it was from Luke, his dad, Roy, remarked snidely, "Perhaps he bought your breasts too!" and erupted into laughter—a sentiment worryingly shared by Luke. Disheartened, I forced a nervous laugh.

The discussion carried on rather tensely until Luke excused himself briefly. Tammy then pulled me aside, accusing me bluntly of being a 'white trash gold digger' determined to snatch Luke's wealth. I couldn't help but laugh it off, informing her that if I were after money, Luke wouldn’t be my choice given that I am the higher earner. Confused, she demanded an explanation, so I showed her my company's website with my professional profile. Both she and Roy were taken aback. Rather than apologizing, they pulled Luke back into the discussion to chastise him for not being the main breadwinner. I decided it was time to leave.

Leaving their house, I expected Luke to appreciate my intervention, but instead, he accused me of undermining him by revealing my higher income to his parents, whom he had already described as conventional. I reminded him that they started the disrespect, even sharing in it, yet he felt I should have just tolerated their behavior. We ended up deciding to give each other some space to think things over. So, after all that, I'm left wondering: am I the asshole here?

On a side note, imagine if this debacle played out on reality TV. The public might well have been sympathetic, watching someone defend themselves against unfair judgment. Or perhaps the audience would praise me for not conforming to the misplaced gold digger label? Reality TV thrives on confrontation and unexpected revelations, after all.

I'm curious, what do people generally think?

I’ve had a horrible couple months of being unemployed, procrastinating on school work to the point of failing, and overall going through a rough emotional headspace. I’ve taken this time to get to the root of the problem and really get to know myself and why exactly I feel the way I’ve been feeling for the past few years, it’s all been a cycle of going hard, burning out, and having nothing to show for it while everyone else seems to move along just fine… am I doing something wrong?

I have unmedicated ADHD so perhaps that has been quite an important step in realizing that my mental health and overall mental capacity is different to everyone else’s, and so it makes me feel so lonely and misunderstood especially when it comes to emotional topics, all my friends and family seem to turn away and not really get what I’m really trying to say.

Recently I had a huge fight with my mom about triggers and trauma and she kind of threw it in my face that I’m gay and that long story short; feels ashamed. I thought about it long and hard, and it made me feel even worse. All my friends have something to show for themselves and have a good support circle in their lives, meanwhile I feel like I have to come home alone and find solace in myself whenever I feel pain… I understand no one is coming to save me, but having something to call my own and fall back on would be so great…. I’m slowly but surely getting there, but I can’t help like I have to do it all alone.

I am 38, male, and this is just a report, not a poem, not a cry, not a lesson, just a dump like on /vent because that is what this site is for. I wake up, I go to work, I fail quietly, I come back, I eat trash, I sleep, repeat, that is the system. I never had a girlfriend, not once, not even the fake high school one people lie about to seem normal. Women never looked at me like a person, more like furniture or a problem to avoid, and yeah I know you will say “it’s your personality” or “work on yourself” because that is the standard script, quoted endlessly like a broken motivational poster. I am not saying I deserve love, I am saying the data shows I never had it, and after 38 years the trend line is pretty clear. No close friends either, no one texting me first, no one asking how I am unless it is HR pretending to care. At work I suck, not in a dramatic way, just enough to always be behind, always be the guy who “tries” but never advances, and you know what happens to guys like that. People say life is about “small joys” and “gratitude” but that sounds like marketing language invented to sell books to losers like me. Objectively speaking, if you remove romance, social validation, and competence, what is left that makes this worth repeating every day.

I am not writing this to shock you, I am writing it because I am tired of pretending this is some deep mystery. Men like me are told to shut up and improve or die quietly, and women are framed as prizes we failed to unlock, which makes everyone worse. I can be rude about it because honesty is rude now. When you go decades without touch, without being chosen, without even being hated passionately, it does something boring to your brain, not tragic, just empty. People quote Nietzsche or Camus about meaning, like “one must imagine Sisyphus happy”, but Sisyphus at least had a story and an audience. I have a cubicle and a login. Therapy is another quote machine, more phrases like “reframe your narrative” and “challenge your assumptions”, as if this is a creative writing class and not a statistical dead end. Women don’t owe me anything, fine, but reality doesn’t owe me hope either, so why is hope mandatory. This is the part where someone says “it gets better” with zero evidence, or links a study, or tells me to lift weights, as if muscle mass fixes being invisible. I am not angry all the time, I am tired, which is different and more permanent; do you really think repeating an unwinnable routine counts as living.

Here is the clean version, stripped of drama and insults, like a lab note. Subject is 38, male, isolated, underperforming, unloved, future probability of change low based on past behavior. External incentives minimal. Internal motivation degraded. That is it. I am not standing on a bridge, I am sitting at a desk typing because typing fills time. People confuse questioning life with wanting to die, but those are not identical, one is philosophical and one is logistical. I can ask “what is the point of living” the same way someone asks “what is the point of this job” without planning to quit today. Still, if you are reading this, answer honestly, not kindly, not with slogans. If you had my stats, my face, my history, my absence of proof that effort pays off, would you continue out of principle alone. Or is life just something we keep doing because stopping would make other people uncomfortable. I read quotes, I read threads, I read success stories, and they all assume a baseline I never had. Maybe the point is just to run the clock until it ends, maybe there is no point and we are supposed to admit that, maybe meaning is a luxury item. I don’t know, and I am not asking for rescue, I am asking for accuracy. If the answer is “there is no point but you do it anyway”, say that. If the answer is “there is a point and you missed it”, say that too. I am detached enough to hear it.

I went upstairs because I had been around family all day seeing as its sunday a church day for us as I type this but when I did I hear my grandmother talking behind my back about how she doesnt want to be the bad guy anymore about standing up to my grandpa and how much I ate at dinner when all I had was some gumbo which wasnt my favorite, two mints, and one donut. I know it sounds like a lot but ever since getting on my anti depressant my want to eat has returned but she also goes on and on about me getting a job when they havent taken me to get my permit at all or even made time for me to get it plus I live in a small town thats kind of labeled as a dying town by some of the others living here so finding a job will be a hurdle more then likely unless the local bank or something wants to hire by some miracle. Im also a women however and a lot of the people here that I know of have been arrested for drug use so it wouldnt be smart to work at a gas station but to get out I would do it even with risk just to finally be safe and not have my own family talk about me behind my back granted they probably still will when I move out but at least I dont have to hear it then.

I feel so guilty because my dads mom gave me one of her expenisve dogs like a day or two after my old dog died and I just cant feel a connection like I did with my old dog Im not even sure if I love the new dog or not all I ever do is compare her (The new dog) to my old dog and wish she was my old dog because he was blind, grumpy, and just goofy compared to her whos shy and doesnt do anything besides panic and cling to me which maybe Im just not used to a dog who can see be as clingy as my blind dog I dont know but I feel guilty that I got this free show dog basically and I just dont really love her

I'm a minor who is a trans man. A few months ago I came out to my parents as trans but my dad has acted like nothing happened and my Mom tells me it's a phase and asks me why I would decide this horrid future for myself even though I didn't choose it. I wish I could say she wasn't supporting but she is, she is very open about trans rights but when it comes to me I feel like my identity is just a funny joke to her or me "rebelling". I hate myself. She hates me, not her. I took away her little girl and I wish I hadn't. What do I do?

(this post will be all over the place, I'm so sorry in advance) M17, I'm a failure. Point blank and simple, I can't seem to do anything right. I always forget stuff, simple or not, like hitting the send button sometimes or I leave something at my house whenever I go somewhere. It's so frustrating. And that's not all; My grades are like B's, which isn't that bad, but I am always told that "you're a smart kid" so then why tf am I making straight B/C's? (Anything below a 70 is not accepted in my house btw) I honestly just hate myself, who I am, what I look like, how I act. It's all just, eff me honestly. I'm the class clown, so I'm loud, obnoxious, annoying, and other such. I have a girlfriend, but I am starting to feel like she's drifting away, which makes me so upset, I don't want to lose her, she's been the best thing to happen to me in a long time, but I always try to be supportive, kind, loving and there for her, but I just, idk. I have Narcolepsy and Anxiety, so I'm often tired and stressed about too much. I just want a frickin' break, like seriously, I can't win at anything anymore. I'm so done. I won't k!ll myself because I'm too scared of dieing, but sometimes it's so hard to just exist. Like I just want to escape it all sometimes for like a week or two, that's all I ask, but I know I won't get that. Also college and my career scare me, I have a year left and I still don't know what I want to be, and I feel this pressure that I have to know soon, it's just all so much. If you've made it this far, thank you, I appreciate you wasting your time on me and my emotional prison. I hope you have a good day

for nearly the entire year now, I can't seem to enjoy anything without some annoying little voice in my head going "you're going to die. this wont matter lol." and its all I can think of. if I'm not constantly doing something then it gets in my head and I just think over and over "nothing you do will matter. you're gonna die. everyone dies in the end." and its like, sometimes just because I know Im going to die someday I consider speeding up the process so I don't feel like I've ran out of time and instead I'm willingly giving it up. and I cant think about doing things in the future or things I have done because then It's just reminding mee I'm stepping closer towards the end. i don't know how to stop.

!vent!(it's kinda long, srryy)

Abt 3 years ago, I transferred schools. The first month was fine, I didn't really have any friends, but that was okay with me because I've always been shy and introverted. But the second month is when things took a turn for the worse. This really popular girl, who I never really paid any attention to, started picking on me for no reason. It's not that serious at first because she's just giving me looks and sneering subtle jabs at me... until she starts calling me slurs, pushing me and hitting me, fat-shaming me, and telling her inner circle of friends or whatever to bully me as well. It reached a climax when she and some of her friends ganged up on me and, uh, beat me. I'm a boy (kind of short for my grade, I'm 5'4, so they were able to get an advantage on me), however, so no one really believed me. Even when I showed the teachers the scratches, cuts, bruises, etc., all they did was email her parents. :/ At this point, I'm depressed (still am) and started not eating because her comments about my weight got to me (still do). I can't tell my parents because they have their own issues with themselves, each other, and at their jobs (we're not in a financially stable position, so I can't really change schools easily). About 5 months in(i think) and I'm at my lowest mentally and sometimes even physically as the popular girl would hit me with a variety of items. That's when he entered my life, he was also new and had moved from California, at first he would sit next to me at lunch and just silently eat next to me, then he would ask to partner up with me in school projects, and eventually we became friends. He would share his lunch with me if I forgot to pack mine or couldn't afford any school lunch, he let me come over to his house and tutor me for hours on his own time, always included (at first) me even when he gained new friends, and we had special nicknames for eachother that only we could use. He also defended me whenever the popular girl tried to bully me and her bullying became much less frequent. I love this guy and was scared to admit this to him because I'm also a guy and wasn't sure if he felt the same. This all changed the second year i think? he started becoming more distant, which was unnoticeable at first but then I spotted him with the popular girl. I felt betrayed because they were sitting next to eachother, at a secluded table, laughing and eating as if he hadn't witnessed her call me terrible names, punch me, and text me awful things. I was so freaking confused and confronted him about it. He shrugged it off and they became closer, and closer, and closer. Until, you guessed it, they announced they were dating. It got worst bc when she picked back up bullying me(sometimes i wonder if its even worse now) he's present for most of it and either stays silent or laughs/chuckles. I don't know what I did wrong. This is pretty much my everyday life now and I hate going back to school everyday. He won't even look at me without showing me the middle finger and laughing at me. I sit alone now and cry pretty much everyday bc I love him and I can't figure out what the fuck I did wrong. I've stopped eating again(sometimes for days at a time), I'm going comatose for most of the day, and my grades are dropping. I just want him back.

I'm not even shocked at this point hahahah they've done that to me before years before they gonna do it again right now lol 😂

i know it sound stupid to some ppl, like just another weird fear or whatever, but i swear this thing is real for me. i can’t stop thinkin about it—losing my mind, my memories, my self. dementia, alzheimer’s, all that… it terrifies me. like deep in my bones kind of fear. i’ll be sittin there watchin tv or just layin in bed, and boom, it hits me. “what if i forget who i am one day? what if i forget my mom, or where i live, or how to talk?” nd it ain’t even like i’m old or anything, i’m only 27, but the thought never leaves. it started after my grandma passed. she had alzheimer’s nd near the end she didn’t even remember me, nd that messed me up fr. i’d go visit her, nd she’d smile at me like i was a stranger, callin me names of people long gone. it was like watchin her fade while still breathin. nd now it’s like every little thing i forget makes me panic. forgot where i left my keys? maybe it’s startin. called someone by the wrong name? brain’s probly already slippin.

i keep tryin to tell myself it’s just anxiety, that i’m overthinkin, but it don’t help. i’ve googled the symptoms so many times i basically memorized the whole list. nd now it’s like i’m constantly watchin myself, checkin if i’m rememberin stuff right, testin myself with lil memory games in my head like a freak. sometimes i won’t even enjoy a moment cause i’m too scared i won’t remember it. nd that’s the worst part honestly. the fear is stealin the life i’m tryin to protect. like i’ll be hangin with friends nd instead of laughin, i’m thinkin “ok remember this, what are we talkin about? who’s here? what time is it?” nd if i mess up just once it’s like my whole body goes cold. my chest gets tight, my head spins, i start spiralin like “this is it, it’s happening, i’m losing it.” no one really gets it either. they just be like “bro ur fine” or “you’re too young for that stuff.” nd i know they mean well, but it don’t help. it just makes me feel more alone.

sometimes i feel like i’m already gone a little, like the fear itself is eatin away at me. it’s not even just memory loss i’m scared of—it’s losing me. who i am, what i love, the people i care about. i see older people walkin down the street lookin confused and i can’t help but wonder, “were they like me once?” did they have the same thoughts, the same fears, and then one day it all just slipped? maybe i sound crazy, but it’s real to me. nd i don’t kno how to stop it. therapy helped a bit but i still have bad days. sometimes real bad. nd i just sit there in the dark, tryin to hold onto everything i can remember, like if i think hard enough it’ll all stay. maybe it’s irrational, maybe i got some kinda health anxiety or whatever, but it feels like this shadow followin me everywhere i go. nd no matter how fast i run, it’s always there. this fear of forgettin, of fading, of losin who i am. dementophobia. that’s the word i found online. nd it’s ugly, it’s heavy, and it’s real as hell.