Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I’m 17, and I keep telling myself maybe this is just what “young love” is supose to feel like, confusing and one sided and kinda humiliating, but honestly it just feels bad all the time. Like, why do I gotta beg for basic care from somebody who said “I love you” first? He used to text me goodmorning, used to ask if I ate, used to send dumb songs and say “this made me think of you,” and now I’m lucky if I get a dry “lol” after waiting 4 hours. I know people are gonna say, “maybe he’s just busy,” yeah okay, everybody says that, but nobody is busy every second of every day unless they just dont wanna talk to you. That’s the part that hurts, the not knowing mixed with knowing. Last week at school I seen him laughing with his friends, being all loud and normal, then when I walked up he got all weird and acted like I was bothering him. I said, “did I do something?” and he just shrugged. A SHRUG. Like I’m some random girl from math class and not the girl who sat on facetime with him till 2 a.m. when he was crying about his parents fighting. I remember missing the bus one morning cause I stayed outside before class just to hand him the energy drink he likes, and he forgot it in my hand and walked off. I stood there like a idiot. My friend told me, “girl, if he wanted to, he would,” and I hate that quote cause it sounds so fake deep from TikTok or whatever, but maybe it’s true. Maybe if a boy loves you, you dont spend half your time decoding one word texts like it’s some detective show. Maybe you dont feel ugly everytime he looks at his phone and smiles at something that obviously isn’t you. And before anybody says “just leave then,” do you know how hard that is when this is the same person who held your hand when you had a panic attack behind the gym and whispered, “I got you”? How do people switch up that fast? 😕 It’s like he borrowed my heart just to return it all dented and gross.

What makes me feel even more pathetic is I keep making excuses for him even while I’m crying over him. Like yesterday I stared at our old chats for over a hour, reading the parts where he called me “pretty girl” and said I was “different in a good way,” and I actually started wondering if maybe I imagined the whole thing. Isn’t that messed up? To be treated so weird that you start distrusting your own memory. I asked him straight up a few days ago, “do you even still want me?” and he said, “idk, stop making everything so serious.” Stop making everything serious??? Sorry I thought being your girlfriend meant I was allowed to care when you act like I’m annoying for breathing. I’m so tired of pretending I’m chill. I’m not chill. I overthink everything, I reread messages, I notice when his voice is different, I notice when he says “gn” instead of “goodnight <3”, I notice when he posts and ignores me at the same time. It makes me feel crazy, and maybe I am a little, but can you blame me?? My mom says highschool relationships are “practice,” like wow thanks, cool, so I’m practice for being unwanted? 😭 Sometimes I think maybe he doesnt love me because there’s just something wrong with me specifically. Maybe I talk to much, maybe I’m too emotional, maybe I’m not pretty enough, maybe I care in this huge messy way that scares people off. Or maybe, and this is the worst part, maybe he just liked being loved and didn’t actually love me back. That thought keeps me up forreal. Cause I gave him everything I could at 17, all my time, all my softness, all my dumb little notes and support and loyalty, and he treats it like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing. And I know somebody in the comments is probly gonna say “you deserve better” 🙃 but why does “better” never show up when you need it? Why is it always the girl who loves hard that gets made to feel like she asked for to much? Has anyone else felt this stupid, this small, this easy to drop? I just wanna know why he doesnt love me, and why I still love him enough for it to ruin my whole day.

When i tell you that every single one of my friends is talking to a guy, i am not kidding. I have not had a single boyfriend my entire life, no situationships, not even a talking stage.

I have this one friend, lets call her jenna, she is in a month long relationship with this guy that another one of our friends, madison, used to date. Madison has had almost 3 boyfriends since her and this guy, the one that Jenna is now dating, broke up. My other friend, layla, is talking to this guy on snap and gets asked for her number like every other day. Even my really introverted friend, ashley, has secretly been texting this guy sense the begining of the school year.

And its not like im some random person that just lurks in the corner at my school, I sit with a pretty popular group of people, though i am the most quiet in that group. And its not like im super unattractive either, i mean i definitely am not pretty pretty, but i like to think i am average. i mean every now and then a couple girls from school will just walk up to me to tell me i have really pretty eyes, so that must count toward smt, right?

Not to mention, i see guys looking at me when they dont think i see them. BUT NOBODY ASKS ME OUT.

And whenever i do like a guy that i think likes me back, because they are lit always looking at me (im prob just delulu), they always end up liking someone else. One of them was the guy that was texting with ashley 😭 (but i didnt like him, he isn't my type).

I mean for the first couple years of school since i moved to this new state i was the stereotypical nerdy girl, so that might have smt to do with it.

Honestly, im probably just overreacting, it just kinda upsets me that nobody wants to date me.

Thx for reading this, hope u have a good morning/afternoon/night!💕

So, this all started a couple months back when school was just out for the summer. With nothing to do, I turned to my friend who, I'll just call squib. For context, squib has been depressed for years and had attempted a couple weeks before school was over. Causing her to go the mental hospital for about a week. She has another group of friends that I don't get along with too well. After her attempt, her parents put her on an extremely tight schedule, allowing only an hour or two at a time for devices. So, the story starts while on a call with her. We were playing some random Roblox game when her parents had to take her somewhere. She told me that she'd be back in around two hours and so I agreed and waited patiently for her. I was pretty bored during the time so I was just playing random games. It was 2 hours later and she still hadn't texted me. I just thought she was still out. Another hour. I'm confused. I then log back into Roblox and see her playing with her other group of friends. Oh... I text her in discord and she gives short- and somewhat incomprehensible answers saying "I'm distracting. Cali " alluding to her playing dandy's world with her other friends. I brush it off as being forgetful. But then this started happening multiple times. And Everytime it happened, I could feel a piece of trust being broken. I talked to her later and she said she would try to be better. And she did! She's gotten better about it... Or so I thought. Recently, she has cancelled last minute on me FOUR TIMES IN A ROW. And Everytime she's always busy. I know that her

Excuses are probably true because of her tight schedule but the fact that it happened 4 times is just crazy to me. I told her the 3rd time she cancelled that I was going to make a last ditch effort for her to come over and spend time and that she had the ENTIRE week to get her stuff done. But, in the end, she didn't make it. I would understand if it were some really long important thing that she worked on the entire time. But it was just planning for a roadtrip. She took breaks in the middle to game, read, and do other things (yes, I know, it's good for her mental health and all :c ) but she promised to hurry it up so she should come! I just... Don't know how to feel. She's broken my trust so many times and it hurts. But she has so many good explanations that just make me feel selfish. If you guys can help that would be very much appreciated 😞.

Man, I gotta spill something. Like, I ran into my ex-wife just the other week, and it seriously messed with my head. You know how it is...went for a quick coffee and ended up in this weird emotional rollercoaster. Not that I didn't know she was still around, but spotting her after all this time was like seeing a ghost that still haunts the edges of your life. She seemed good and all, but that's not my thing anymore. Honestly, I was a bit all over the place for a day or two after. 🙄 Anyway, now I’m kind of hung up on this whole rebound relationship idea. You ever thought about it? They say jumping into something new after a breakup can help, but who's "they" anyway? Like, part of me says, "Yeah, go for it, bro!" but the other side is like, "Nah, maybe you're just trying to fill a hole and it’s not even gonna work out." You get me?

Been thinking about diming it back and not rushing into crap that doesn't even belong to me. Just cos my ex is doing alright doesn't mean I need to force myself into some setup with the next person who smiles at me. You ever feel like you’re in a race, but you’re not even sure it’s a race you wanna run? It's tricky. I mean, I’ve had times where I rebounded and times when I didn't bother, and looking back, well, I guess each had its pros and cons. Maybe some things just roll different for different people, you know? You'd think by now I'd have a concrete answer, but nah. Life's never that simple. Has anyone actually found their person on a rebound? Or do people just apply that idea like a Band-Aid, hoping it'll stick and do the trick?

And the truth is, when you're connected like I was with my ex for years, it doesn't just go away in a snap just because you meet someone new. But who am I kidding, right? People only see the surface and think you're all good. Soon as you’re not wrecked on the outside, everyone assumes you're ready to ride the dating train again. Reality check: it ain't that easy, at least not for everyone. For some, maybe it’s fine. Are rebounds basically like a relationship placebo or what? Fake it till you make it, or something like that?

I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want is to drag some poor girl into my half-baked healing process and end up making more of a mess. Just makes me wonder if it's worth it at all. I mean, does curing a broken heart with a temporary fix ever turn into something lasting? Like, damn, I don’t need to learn the hard way again. Trying to keep things chill and not dive head first into anything until I’m sure. That's just me being cautious or chicken??? pick your choice, whatever fits. ..

Bottom line, are rebounds the real deal, or are they just a lame Sunday afternoon hangover cure that never sticks 'cause it’s not addressing the real problem... just asking for a buddy, haha

I never really thought about this before, but now that I’m reflecting on a lot of my behaviors and what triggers a shopping spree, I noticed I never really feel an urge to shop in person. It’s almost like the instant gratification is something I avoid, because the waiting/tracking makes it more satisfying. I think I’m addicted to the process, really. You see “the” item, it’s perfect, it’s the last thing you’ll need in a while. Actually, it’s the whole outfit you’re iso, I mean the top might not look as good if it wasn’t styled the same way right? This way you can be sure you stop for a while. You scroll for hours and hours finding the perfect item. The hunt has your heart beating just a little faster, you feel good. Along the way you see a couple more items you like, you add it to the bag. You need the perfect top for that event next weekend right? After all, it’s the only thing that would go with what you plan to wear. The total keeps racking up. Unbeknownst to you, because you’re too excited to check or think about exactly how much you’re spending. At this point, you’re beginning to feel a little guilty because you spent a little more than you could afford earlier this week. But that’s okay, because you need more long sleeves for winter right? You’ll get good use out of that extra top. You go to check out, you begin to feel nervous and paranoid about spending the money. This is will be the last time. You hit “checkout”. You’re entering your card information but you’re not really thinking clearly, it hasn’t truly set in. The part of you that wants these items so badly tells you you can’t live without them.

It’s been a couple days, and by now you’ve received your items. You’ve opened them up (or not). Your excitement has kind of fizzled out at this point. You’re happy, but you’re nowhere near as elated as you were when you were checking that tracking number every couple hours.

A day or two goes by, or maybe it was just an hour. you’re scrolling endlessly through social media again, and that’s when you see it. You’ve finally found “The item”.

Then the process repeats itself, and the funny thing is that you’re still convinced you’re going to “quit for good this time”. It’s really an awful cycle!!

I sometimes wonder, what if I was on a reality show about shopping addiction? How would people react to my habits being broadcasted? Would they understand or judge me harshly? It's scary to think about, but maybe it would help me break free from this cycle.

After completing my master’s degree and securing a promising career, I’ve come to a challenging crossroad involving my family. Throughout my educational journey, my parents didn't offer financial support. Despite living a lifestyle filled with vacations, new vehicles, and home upgrades, they insisted if I wanted higher education, the financial responsibility was entirely mine. This stance forced me to balance part-time work with student loans to afford my studies.

Years have passed, and now as retirement looms, my parents expect financial support from me due to their inadequate savings. Recently, my patience wore thin, and during a heated conversation, I expressed my frustration. I reminded them of their financial decisions during my struggles with education and told them they should have planned better for their retirement instead of indulging in luxuries. I made it clear that I am not their financial backup plan and that they need to sort out their retirement issues as I had to with my education.

My confrontation left my mom in tears; she claimed they had sacrificed a lot during my childhood, and now it seemed like I was abandoning them. My dad labeled me ungrateful and selfish, throwing in the guilt-laden reminder of their 18 years of upbringing. My siblings have joined the fray, labeling me heartless for not aiding our parents, pointing out that I am better off financially compared to them. Regardless, I feel that they need to face the consequences of their choices.

The situation escalated further when I declared I wouldn’t provide care for them in their old age, regardless of their financial or health status in the future. This stance has shocked my siblings, with some arguing that it’s too harsh, but I am resolved to maintain my decision.

Considering if my story were to unfold on a reality TV show, the viewer's reaction could be intensely polarized. Some might view me as cold and unforgiving, while others could see me as a symbol of tough love and personal boundaries. Reality TV thrives on conflict and dramatic emotional exchanges, so such a storyline might draw a considerable amount of attention and debate among viewers, potentially making it a central theme of the show.

Am I wrong for denying my parents financial support for their retirement?

So, yeah, I have eczema. I'm 13 and I've had it since I was 3, so, it's been a decade. Mine can be red, flaky and swollen if I don't apply creams, but when I drink some antihistamines, put some steroid creams, and when it's only flaky I put moisturizer, I have minimal scarring, more like minor pigmentation. And no flakes, weirdly enough. Only side effect is acne similar to rosacea since they don't look yellow with pus, but maybe that's cus I'm 13. I got a blood test, and my mom told me the doc said I have an allergy to dust and cat fur, which happened a year ago, in Malaysia at Christmas, in one cafe, they had one fat cat, and when I was petting and rubbing, my eye swelled up in the hotel and I started feeling bad. That allergy came out of nowhere! And because I'm somehow way more analytical than my age (I wish I had the same amount as anyone else), I realized the atopic triad exists, and it's all lining up. I've had eczema since I was 3, and now I got cat allergy since last December. Only a mere year back! Asthma's next! It all makes sense because of the triad, and since my grandma (maternal) has asthma herself. So far my tonsils are apparently sensitive according to my orthodontist, and I often get tonsil stones every month. They're small, and appear less than last year, but I have huge crypts.

My doctor actually suggested biologics, because she noticed I use creams, before my mom declined and she suggested oral stuff, so I drank the fake-medicinal-cherry Predo and some other antihistamine, and I don't feel anything weird, besides them tasting gross. But I was panicking when I realized biologics meant NEEDLES IN THE STOMACH, because one lady put it in her belly like it was nothing, and months before, her skin was like an elephant's with scabs (no offense to her, but it looked really painful)! And I'm here like, "Great, now I'm gonna soon have my eczema-equivalent of insulin shots? What else is next, an inhaler!?" Great, I'm fragile. I have acne which my dad thinks is from dirt, eczema, allergies with swelling, and what else is next? Anaphylactic reactions? Asthma!? Man, I'm a china doll! I was even panicking about the asthma for a month. I even cried a few times, because I know of no one besides my grandma with asthma, and I've heard once you get it, it's lifelong, it can be bad, you can't do normal human stuff like wear wooly sweaters, or own fluffy animals, or go out and run without feeling horrible. And the inhaler felt like a CPAP, meant for people with bad illnesses. It just felt like a sign of weakness. I even came up with a full plan to eat so much sugary food, like think animal-style fries with jug chocolate milkshakes with ice cream sundaes, strawberry vape, and just give up! I'm fine now, but I thought about it then! Now I'm like, "Why? Why did I think that?"

It's just, it seems scary. Just, it may do it. It may have skipped a generation for mom, and 2 generations for dad (his grandma had eczema), but it may get me soon. I already got eczema. Asthma may come next, and I may live for about 70 years. My grandma being alive at 64 is somehow there. I may get it. I didn't get symptoms for cat allergies until December, and it's been happening ever since! Most recently, I pet a cat near a college, and my eye got swollen, my rash got worse, and I started sneezing. Just, even with the pet bit, I wanna have a cat, but now about the fur, I feel bad. And with lizards or reptiles, they don't have that sort of love hormone in them, so they're just seeing you in infrared and only see you as "Feed me, human". But hey, people make sacrifices, maybe this is one of them. Like, if you can't get a villa, get an apartment. But yeah, I'm doing better now, mentally, so please, don't panic about that bit. When I saw a Dupixent ad, it felt...interesting. They said the usual, Dupixent helps clear severe eczema in a few months with long-lasting effects, yada yada, but it also showed stuff like a girl playing some football, and a couple together, and they said stuff like, "Touch can show teamwork, touch can show love. We wanna make sure that touch feels like you and true." Welp, they are right that people will worry if I'm okay if I flare up. Who wouldn't? Last time I got rash on my eyelids, one dude in the pool asked me why they're red. He didn't inquire further, but still.

Like, one girl has perioral eczema, but she manages it well enough where I can't see it, but her lips are kinda dark with pink spots. One girl gets really bad reactions during peak summer. Meanwhile if I don't put cream, I get flaky-ah rash, if I put cream, I get acne on my cheeks, like small pustules, some are the red ones, some are blackheads. The doc suggested I take Dupixent, or actually biologics, but my mom doesn't trust her for some reason. Dupixent is a cure as much as Accutane is a cure. It's trendy, it's new, it's great. So why is mom saying we need to verify this with more doctors and not just one? It's not like vaccines where I could die, right? Why is she telling me to check with more doctors? Everyone with eczema uses it, right? I mean, come on, that lady had a huge glow-up! I bet she was able to sleep easier at night because she's not itching like heck at bed! So why is she asking for a second opinion? It's meant to be a long-term help for years, not a few months. While my eczema may not be as bad, it'll be cured by the needle. So please, whoever has eczema here, is mom being stupid or is she being smart? And tell me your experiences with finding treatment and living with it, I really wanna know. I feel isolated anyways with inherited atopic dermatitis.

I met him when I was 11, and he was too. We had a little childhood romance and started "dating" when we were 13. He helped me get through my parents’ divorce, and I helped him with his own family issues... we really liked each other. We were each other’s first love, it was sweet, it was innocent. I felt at home with him. When we hit six months together, things were already falling apart, and I broke up with him because I was going to move to another city mid-year. He seemed to take it well, or at least that’s what I thought. We talked bad about each other afterwards, like teenagers do, of course.On my last day in that city, we were leaving school when he saw me from a distance, gave me a small wave… and cried. I cried too. But neither of us said anything or walked up to each other.After I moved, I sent him a text message saying EVERYTHING I felt. He responded and said he felt the same, but that it wouldn’t work because of the distance and because our story had ended. We still talked sometimes...Then in November, he came to my new city for a karate tournament. Our moms were very close, so he stayed at my house. When I saw him again, it felt like we were still together. I knew I was still crazy about him. At first, we were super shy around each other, but we eventually opened up. He had changed a lot, and so had I. That night, we sat on a couch downstairs in my building and talked for hours. We kissed and made promises we couldn’t keep. He slept in my room, and I slept in my mom’s. But we kept messaging each other all night. It was strange to think that he was here, in my house, in my room. At around 2 a.m., I went into my room and sat by the bed. We talked, laughed, and remembered everything. I took so many pictures of us. At 6 a.m., he left, and I cried so much in the lobby of my building. My love was leaving. From that moment on, the song "The Only Exception" became ours.We tried to keep in touch, but eventually he told me to move on with my life.In January, I went back to my hometown and we went to the mall, just as friends. I really liked it… I had written him a letter, but never gave it to him. I went to his house, and we ended up making out. I didn’t want to leave. The next day, I was already going back to my city.So we spent the whole afternoon watching series and just enjoying each other’s company. I left, and this time ,didn’t cry.We tried a long-distance thing again, but it ended when I found out he was dating a girl from his class, one of his friends told me. It felt like my world collapsed.He was different, you know? He could even understand my silence. I really loved him.Now, I just know that he’s doing some questionable things and that he’s dating another girl.Of course, I’ve had other crushes… but I always compared them to that sweet boy who once existed.I read the letter I had written to him today and realized how naive I was…I miss the boy I was once madly in love with.I really want to send a message, but sometimes not sending is better than being rejected.I just wish he knew… that once, it was him.

I’m genuinely seeking some advice on a situation that persists at home, and I need an outsider’s perspective. My wife makes less money than I do, which is fine, but her default is to handcraft gifts for people. It’s a noble gesture for sure, but it becomes problematic when the recipient, like myself, would prefer something specific that isn't handmade.

Here's an illustration from my own experiences. Over the last few years, every gift from her has been something she made. Regardless of what I explicitly ask for, whether it's inexpensive or not, I end up receiving a handmade present. Take last Christmas, for instance. I had my eye on a few gadgets, but I unwrapped a hand-knitted scarf instead. Don't get me wrong, her gifts are thoughtful, but it’s been the same every time. For her part, I always make sure I buy things that she lists.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was my recent birthday. I didn’t ask for much, just a single book worth about $25 and even sent her the direct link to buy it. Instead, I opened my gift to find homemade bookmarks. Not only were they not the kind of bookmarks I prefer (I like wooden ones and these were cloth), but it also felt like my requests were ignored.

I guess my disappointment was visible because she immediately asked what’s wrong. I confronted her directly this time, explaining how these weren't what I wanted at all—reminding her of our numerous discussions on this topic. I returned the bookmarks to her, a bit abruptly, perhaps, and went out to get the book myself.

Upon returning, we ended up in a big argument with her accusing me of being ungrateful and calling me names. I understand that she puts effort into these gifts, but I feel like my wishes aren’t being respected either.

Imagine such a scenario playing out in a reality show! Likely, the situation would be magnified. Viewers would be picking sides, with some sympathizing with the wife’s heartfelt creations while others might side with the husband’s desire for gifts that actually meet his tastes. Comments and debates would light up social media, maybe even spark a trending hashtag or two, as people chimed in on whether it’s the thought or the gift itself that counts more.

How do you think this would play out on a reality TV show?? Would people see me as demanding or would they understand where I’m coming from?

When my daughter, Emily, celebrated her 20th birthday, she had already been battling significant health challenges for nearly eight years. From major depressive disorder to social anxiety, and even grappling with anorexia and body dysmorphic disorder amidst two autoimmune conditions, her path had not been smooth. As her parent, I have been deeply involved in her care, and when her therapist suggested that an Emotional Support Animal (ESA) might benefit her, I agreed. Though I'm not a fan of animals personally, I saw the potential benefits for Emily's mental and emotional health.

For her 16th birthday, we welcomed a dog into our home named Juniper. It might sound dramatic, but Juniper transformed Emily’s life. She became more independent, her self-esteem flourished, and she visibly brightened. Now, four years later, she's not only juggling her college studies with impressive grades, but she also works as a part-time tutor and volunteers with the elderly—achievements that fill me with immense pride.

However, an unfortunate incident occurred recently that has thrown our peaceful life into chaos. Juniper escaped from our home and was tragically hit by a car in front of our house. After rushing her to the vet, we faced the grim reality that her recovery would require surgery costing around $2,000. Despite my comfortable salary, spending such a sum on what I considered a fading investment seemed unjustifiable, especially considering Juniper's age and potential for lifelong disability post-surgery.

In what I thought was a considered and humane decision, I opted for euthanasia. But when I informed Emily of this decision, she was devastated. She pleaded, offering her savings and promising to work more to cover the costs, but I refused. The potential impact on her mental health—and the possibility that she would have to sacrifice her volunteering, which had significantly aided her recovery—weighed heavily on me. My decision was final, even if Emily couldn't see the reasoning behind it. We went through with the euthanasia, making sure Juniper was surrounded by love till the end.

Upon our return, we found an inconsolable Emily. I tried to impart some hard-earned wisdom about the harsh realities of life, but communication broke down, and now she isn’t speaking to me. I can’t help but wonder if I should have involved her more in the decision or at least allowed her to say goodbye. While I remain conflicted, I also feel that Juniper had fulfilled her role in improving Emily’s quality of life, considering the relatively short time they spent together.

Imagine if this situation were unfolding on a reality TV show. The cameras would capture every tear and tense conversation, providing a raw, unfiltered look at our family's crisis. Viewers might be split, with some sympathizing with my protectiveness over Emily’s mental health and others vilifying me for my seemingly cold decision-making. The drama would certainly draw attention, but the real challenge would be maintaining our dignity and privacy in the inevitable backlash.

So today was the day before my science exam, and I wasn’t ready at all. I did a mock test and apparently after I got out of shower, my mother didn’t look so glad. She had that look of disgust in her eyes— trouble.

She scolded me for getting 50% on my mock exam, it wasn’t even the real exam anyway :/, and guess what? She told me to die— like what type of parent does that? The exact line was “you’re lucky this is just a mock test, if it was real, then I would’ve killed you already” or smt I can’t really recall it;;

On the other day, she even got the house keys out and like— made me scared if? I forgot the word for it but i guess whoever is reading this gets it :(

I’ve been venting on my bed for the past few years, it started in 2023 when she grabbed my collar for going for a walk, and since then I would frequently write stuff on my bed— it’s double decked;; like in the corner that only shadows exist— hey my address is ********* you wanna see what I wrote? Nah jk… I’m lucky I grew up this bright right…

Think about it, there's more benefits to it. You're less surprised by tragedy, you are alive because everyone are liars in your eyes, and when you get hurt, you already knew this was gonna happen.

Really? So far I've had no friends and my family hates that I'm negative. I'm not negative, I'm honest. They hate the fact when I tell them there's no hope in this planet, and that everything is pathetic, and how I won't even be rich and alive to see 20.

People already struggle in this era, so what else is next than to give up and be on the unemployment train? Or vouch for communism over capitalism? I even became negative and I'm happier that zone. It's my comfort zone.

The moment my friends moved on and had their own groups without me, I became the cynic, the dark, the grim. I soon realized at 13 to live in the world, you have to trust no one, not even your family or your home country.

You must hate everyone, and distrust everyone. You must live in fear and disgust of humans, because they try to force-swallow their nasty happy pills down my throat and "be positive".

My family doesn't love me, I'm just a resource, a toy given to them because they wanted to fill out a norm. Have a tall husband, short wife, and 2 kids, one girl and boy.

Benefits of being pessimistic (which even the adults on the room can’t see for some reason):

1) Has a lesser painful impact when being betrayed by something or someone because you low-key suspected the thing with you was a fake

2) Are actually more smarter some you are able to see the messy sides without being too surprised

3) Have enough permission to tell someone, “I told you so!”

4) Able to feel smart and actually be confident because you have enough evidence and gut feeling to prove your point that everything is hopeless

5) Able to understand the world is a mess because everything is too expensive, too less, people can be evil or bigoted, able to see and grasp the flaws of populist people (and people in general) more easily

6) Can rot and feel hopeless without feeling drained or physically affected because already predicted the (crappy) future, in fact can actually thrive in such mental states

7) Able to handle bleak honesty better (like being told “I don’t like you” or “You’re worthless and ugly”) because the pessimism tells you it’s true

8) Great personality trait to have because it meetings and in jobs you can be flat you “ruined” (correct word: told the truth) to your dumb, optimistic puppy employees

9) Can handle isolation and loneliness better (I lasted 7 years with no friends or contact to any classmates, and I’m 13!) because you know everyone, even the adults, around you are idiots to never understand

10) Can grasp the fact the adults are stupid and uncultured without crying because it was already predicted

I can do all that without feeling bad! I can fail and berate myself, and I'll be fine because I'm in my comfort zone. Isn't everyone happy in their zone?

I even felt embarrassed after I got excited because we went to a park we never went to and saw hoopoes, ring-neck parrots, mynas and it had some interesting empty restaurants and 2 colleges nearby, and then I petted a cat on a bench, until I started feeling more itchy, my eye swelled up red, and I realized the doctor was right when she said I have an allergy to dust and cat hair.

So see? I should've just sat, even though I liked walking, seeing the birds, the place itself, and having a nice bubble tea with my mom and brother. I should've argued with mom about my ideology that pessimism is the way to go, rather than let her read her book and me walk around.

That would've ended than us being peaceful and mom not yelling. That cat ruined it!

Sure it didn't bite or scratch me (I would've berated myself for rabies risk), it was oddly quiet and it was weirdly so comfortable to the point it sat on my lap and it didn't even try to attack me when I picked it and lightly threw it on the ground (it's a cat so it can land on its feet, and cat didn't even meow), and when I scratch and petted it, it seemed fine, it sat another time before I picked its belly and put it on the bench, and his eye also looked kinda swollen, until I started itching and my eye also got swollen, and mom in a kinda disappointed tone said, "Oh, why did you do that?"

Before we got bubble tea and I put the drink on my eye to cool it, then at home (after we picked my brother in the same park from his piano exam. You see, in one area there was an auditorium hub, and he did it there, we were just nearby) I put the ice pack on my rash, eye and mom put eye drops.

It's better now, but I shouldn't have done it! Still, I shouldn't have trusted my gut, and I should've never sat near that thing.

Hell, I should've argued with mom about my philosophy, instead of excitedly telling her about the hoopoes and ring-necks like an 8 y/o! I'm 13!

Isn't it just stupid I got excited over a dumb bird, and a bit confused why an Indian parrot was in UAE, and there was 6 of them near the college (it was Middlesex University in Dubai)?

I should've argued and be cynical, that's more grown up! I may have been happy while roaming around, but not everything happy is good!

And why was I even looking around the place and drinking that with my family? I should've asked for a coffee, like adults!

I'm not pretending it never happened, I'm admitting it did, and admitting how much of an avoidable situation it was!

It's a stupid stray cat, it's not like it's gonna cry if you leave it!

And I was even dumber for thinking it was a calm cat, it was, it didn't react much at all (I know it's not dead, his eye just looked weird, and I hope he was alright, showed no signs of sneezing, coughing or snot, his left eye was just swollen), even when I picked it up and put on the ground first, and then the chair, I shouldn't have trusted that fiend!

And why did my left eye also get swollen? Again, I was being stupid! People with allergies don't go anywhere near things they have reactions to, even if it's not anaphylactic!

Again, what allergic person goes near their allergies? Lord knows I was being stupid. I shouldn't have trusted it. It may have been gentle, maybe kinda old, but I shouldn't have even thought about going there.

This is one of the memories where being calmer and hopeful hurts you. This is the other chapter in my book of that.

Stupid cat fur. Can't even be a normal person.

But my benefits! Oh, don't tell me, "Be positive!" Again, it's happy pills institutions feed us to keep us controlled. That's like saying surgery is bad because people die from it. More people have lived!

If I apply the same with everyone, family, friends, teachers, strangers, I'll be alive. I won't be on the ground betrayed by a fraud.

More people have been hurt by surprises. So, the more I expect down, I can never be hurt. Better to never be hurt ever than get hurt once, right?

Come on, if I don't trust anyone, I'll be fine! It's how we work, right? People wall up all the time. Don't they?

I mean, army men don't trust EACH OTHER, so? I can wall up forever, or at least decades and be okay! It's how I managed without friends! Hermits did it! I can have that life!

Another thing, how does looking or doing things you like supposed to make you feel better when you failed at something?

Again, I didn't draw for months, and then during that time, I made mood boards and just sat at home doing nothing. Then, when I failed 2 of my exams, I turned to watch what I liked, created more boards, got back to making my doll, and eating, and wanting to go out to malls to cure my misery.

Yeah, useless. This is fleeting joy. This isn't the joy where you are happy for life. It still means I'm a failure to my family, even if my mom says I'm not a failure.

Exams will define my college selection, my grade promotion, and life! Says the woman who got 70/100, thinking she failed when she's top 5 scorers in school for getting 85-95!

Again, I always think she's lying. What's the catch? What's the hidden meaning behind, "We may argue but I won't leave you and stop loving you."

People leave when they have a big argument after many microaggressions, or maybe one big thing happened and they all hate each other! They fight and leave, it's the big thing that holed their relationship!

Movies show it, and they're praised as realistic, so explain this. My brain's a soldier in armor for knowing this and suspecting this.

Guess what? Okay, maybe my arguments are the micro-aggressions, until we have that BIG FIGHT, and she sends me elsewhere!

Don't tell me, mom, that you won't send me anywhere or deport me back no matter how angry you are, you will soon.

I have maturity in pessimism than my family, so at least I'm good at that and nothing else.

I'm smart. I'm confident because of it.

My mom spews trash when she says, "Don't talk about your miseries all the time or any bad thing all the time, we just did something good yesterday."

We may have binged a show we liked, had good food, went out to a new park we've never been to, and had bubble tea, but to keep myself not too happy, I have to remember the bad things.

Isn't it how we keep ourselves in check and not too...joyful?

Joy can make people do stupid things, and when you distrustful of everything, you'll have all the things trying to hurt you not hurt you.

Isn't numbness good?

And so what if it's a cage? Better than to fly in a forest where you could get eaten by an animal.

Flying's bad in that case. It's a cage that keeps me safe, with food, shelter, confidence, security, and my thoughts.

I'm fine here! In fact, I'm happier here than being positive. I'm happier here, it's how I've managed for years, I only got more emotional when I started listening to my heart.

It shouldn't be there! I should grow out of it. It may be screaming me to not be this "hard", but it's being stupid.

It's like a kid telling me not to watch TV today or I'll go blind today and need a walking stick.

See? I can be happy being alone when thinking negative, because how can anyone hurt me or leave me?

Bad things only teach you they're bad.

You break up with someone when you both couldn't control it, it was worthless.

If you studied and still failed an exam, it was worthless.

You had a friend who moved from you, that friend was worthless.

If this is "living", I reject living. I accept survival.

Seeing pain as bad, and emotions as bad, it's how I've coped for years now. I managed since I was 12, for some stuff, but it's increased now at 13.

I was okay until I listened once to my heart. That made me feel bad, and it made my mom be a "friend".

Who has their mom as a friend?!

I've been vulnerable to a teacher, and she took me too literally! She got me out of school for 3 days, when I felt perfectly fine to go!

And even I feel guilty, and now mom's all like, "You should now speak to me, because only I know you better than them."

Hag, you're my mom. Who has their moms as confidants!?

I'm supposed to have many friends at this age, not be alone with mom.

I can even fake with a few people to look cool! I'll figure it out!

Everybody else has friends. I don't. I'm 1 of the 2 kids in the class with no friend. There's only one girl, but if I spoke to her, it'll be awkward. She's very quiet, very soft-spoken.

If girls can fake boyfriends and then fall in love like in movies, I can do it with friends!

If I DARE get awkward, it's bad. Means I'm weak, shameful even.

I must fake it. I can forget it exists if the sky has smog in it. I'd rather breathe in my own breath than that in my cage.

Everything uncontrolled is bad! I'm allowed to be a hermit!

You may say hermits were missing human connection but they convinced themselves it was fine. Why can't I do that?

I'm a martyr for that. I'm a martyr for isolation.

So please, people here, what happened when you were pessimistic for a long while? I bet it benefited you more than gave you issues.

But be honest, tell everything...

My daughter Sarah is about to turn eight in just under a week, and she's been pleading to have her ears pierced. I've told her that I'd prefer she waits until she's at least twelve, the same age I was when I got my ears pierced. Her father, from whom I'm divorced, and I had a rather heated discussion about this. Our differing approaches to parenting, compounded by our conflicting political opinions, often lead to clashes. I believe he often engages in these discussions simply because the custody arrangement mandates it. Honestly, there are times I wish I had children with someone whose values align more closely with mine, and I know he feels similarly about me.

Returning to the matter at hand, I argued that younger children are more prone to complications from piercings like migration and rejection, problems my sister experienced firsthand. I see piercing as a form of body modification that carries a weight similar to other types, a sentiment he seems to dismiss. He mentioned that many of her friends and cousins already have pierced ears and reminded me that she has been asking since she was three. My stance hasn't changed since then.

The conversation escalated when I reiterated my belief in delaying such modifications. He became visibly frustrated, especially when I compared it to gender identity issues, given that I have two younger siblings who are transgender. I tried to explain that I support delaying any major body modifications until a person is closer to adulthood, in line with general medical opinion on gender affirmation procedures. The discussion became personal and heated, devolving to a point where insults were exchanged, and I ended up hanging up on him after a particularly nasty exchange.

Indeed, it wasn't my finest moment, and I can admit perhaps my actions might have been a bit much, but does that make me completely unreasonable for wanting her to wait on the ear piercing?

I also insist that when the time comes for her to get her ears pierced, it should be done by a trained professional and not at some mall kiosk. I've yet to discuss this aspect with her father, but given our last conversation, I'm not sure how cooperative he’ll be. My sibling also reminded me that proper aftercare is crucial, something that needs to be considered as well.

Imagine if this was all unfolding on a reality TV show. Viewers would likely be split, with some siding with the idea of parental caution and others viewing the refusal as overly strict. The dramatized encounters would certainly boost ratings, drawing viewers into the ongoing debate of parental rights versus children's autonomy and societal influences on family decisions.

i am ussaily a kind person. i take care of my family whether it be my adoptive parents and siblings or my biological family. i have always wondered though why doesnt anyone wanna take care of me? you know love me they way i love them. Now i am fine by myself most of the time but sometimes i need love too. i wanna be taken care of i wanna be asked how my day was or how am i today. but its like no one is really worried about me or what am i doing. so for me to be able to feel some kind of love i get into relationships. i was with this one boy who loved me endlessly but there were things in the relatioship i did not like. he didnt want me to be me. he didnt aprrove of my friendships or that i went to parties to drink or nothing. he just wanted me to stay home locked in my room because thats what he liked to do but i personly did not want to because of the fact that its hard for me to keep friends if i dont go out people wont nessacrily care about what i do and he knows that. and maybe he was just trying to protect me but i just couldnt do it there were so many things that differ from us. and so it fissed out after a while. and now i am single and i hear the rumors about me being spread that i cheated on him or that he cheated on me but idk imk confused but i was so desperate for love somewhere i didnt even care if he did cheat on me or not it didnt seem tht big of a deal to me. i just wanted someone to be with me through it all. now i am talking to this boy and i am asking him questions that i didnt ask my ex in the begingg because i am scared this new boy will be the same as my ex. i just want to be loved like truly loved by someone. and i dont know what to do because i do love myself but i am ready to be with someone who loves me to.

So here I am, 23 years old, sitting on my couch at 6 AM, scrolling through my phone like the rest of the world, and I can’t help but wonder if doing some morning yoga could actually help me chill out a bit, you know? Work has been an absolute circus lately—endless deadlines, demanding bosses, and that annoying coworker who “just loves to chat” while I’m trying to concentrate! Ugh! On top of that, my home life isn't exactly a zen garden either. It’s like a tornado of chores, family drama, and oh, let’s not forget the never-ending battle with my own mental health; I don’t need to tell you how exhausting that can be. Someone once said, “When you find peace within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others.” Is that true? Because at this point, I’d just like to be at peace without screaming at the top of my lungs. I keep hearing about how morning yoga is supposed to be this miracle cure-all for stress, but honestly, I can’t get over my own skepticism. I mean, sure, there’s something appealing about stretching out my tight muscles, especially when I’ve been hunched over my laptop for way too long—but will it really help? Every time I think about it, I picture myself in a yoga class, all zen and serene, looking like a complete novice! Have you seen how those yoga influencers contort themselves? Like, what even is that? And let’s not forget the smell of essential oils—it’s either heavenly or a total headache! I can just imagine showing up with my “I do yoga” sweatpants and completely whiffing a pose. People in the room would probably roll their eyes at me. “Girl, just breathe,” they’d probably whisper while I’m over there struggling to keep my balance. Yet, I feel like I should give it a try. Couldn’t I use a bit of that whole “namaste” vibe in my chaotic life? But then I wonder: could I actually commit to doing it regularly? I’m already 10 minutes late to everything, and adding a morning yoga routine to my schedule seems like a tall order, doesn’t it? I could see it now: me, madly trying to fit in downward dog before I rush out the door, only to be late again because I lost track of time trying to “find my center.” Lo and behold, my chaotic mornings would just get more chaotic! Would it really set a positive tone for the rest of my day, or just make me more irritable when I can’t get everything done in time? So many questions! I could just start with simple stretches at home—maybe throw on a YouTube video and pretend I know what I'm doing, right? They say even a few minutes of mindfulness can lead to better stress management; just breathe and focus, they say. But I find it hard to relax when my mind races with a thousand thoughts about what I didn’t do and what I still need to do. Like, why is life such a juggling act? Is it too much to ask for a little bit of balance? Probably, because let’s face it: my life has been more of a tightrope walk than a yoga class! I can't even tell you how often I've tried to squeeze in self-care, and yet, here I am, still feeling wound up like a string on a bow. But, as I delve more into this whole yoga idea, there's this nagging voice in my head pushing me to try something new, you know? "Step out of your comfort zone," it whispers. Maybe I really could use some calm in my mornings, even if I end up looking ridiculous and flailing about as my cat watches on, probably judging me, has anyone ever felt that? For some weird reason, I feel like I owe it to myself to at least give morning yoga a shot; who knows, it might even make me a better person at work and home. Plus, wouldn't it be awesome to actually have a chill start to the day instead of bursting out the door like a caffeinated squirrel? I'm still on the fence about it—do I really want to give it a go, or just keep watching random memes on my phone until the last second? Maybe if I push myself to get up a lil' early? I mean, the thought of being able to say I do yoga does sound kind of badass. And hey, I’m all about trying to make my chaotic life feel a little less chaotic; is it crazy to think that morning yoga might just hold the answer I've been looking for? Anyone out there make it work in their routine? I need help deciding here; should I take the plunge and roll out a mat, or keep dreaming of that blissful morning peace while I slip back into the chaos that is my reality?