Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

My relationship with my parents has always been rocky, and it's only gotten harder as I've gotten older.

Recently, I found out I was the beneficiary of a substantial inheritance from my late grandfather – about $125,000 intended to cover my college expenses. Thrilled, I hoped to use this gift to attend my dream university. However, my enthusiasm was quickly dampened by my mother.

She believes that as the eldest child, I am obliged to reimburse her for costs she incurred from my early childhood medical procedures. Approaching her to transfer the inherited funds into my college savings account, she staunchly refused, asserting that the money was hers due to her sacrifices for me. Growing up, she frequently took money from me, including winnings from sports events and even once destroyed a safe given to me by my grandfather.

After cooling down for a few days, I prepared to confront her again, this time armed with detailed documentation. Since I was 13, I kept a meticulous record of all my earnings, now combined with my inheritance, totaling about $250,000. I showed her a detailed list of these transactions, hoping to reason with her, but instead, she became irate, insisting she was entitled to the money because of the medical expenses she had covered.

Realizing calm discussion was futile, and recalling past incidents where she destroyed my documentation, I safely duplicated all evidence on my laptop. When she grabbed and tore up my hard copies, I only added these losses to the grand total.

Two days ago, I sent her an email clearly stating my demands for the return of my funds, disregarding interest to keep matters simple. I included a final warning: if she did not comply, I would pursue legal action, factoring in costs for therapy resulting from our ongoing conflicts.

Did I push things too far? Am I wrong to threaten legal action against my own mother?

Imagine this scenario playing out on a reality TV show. Viewers would likely be divided, some sympathizing with the struggle of reclaiming one's rightful assets, while others might view the legal threats against a family member as too extreme. The dramatic showdowns and tearful confrontations could certainly captivate an audience, potentially painting me either as a victim or a villain based on the editing slant.

So basically here’s a short summary

I’m in a relationship with my gf and we’ve been together for about 3 years now and honestly it hasn’t been good. Iv been giving 90% and only ever getting 10% and it’s been like this for the past 3 years almost. Anyways this summer I got a new job and met this new friend and the minute we got together we clicked so fast and idk I kinda started to become physically and emotionally attracted to her. I started to really developed feelings for her and everything. I have to mention this new girl also has a gf. Well the summer ended but they hired me as a staff for another program that this girl is always involved in. So we started this new job again and she was there and we got even closer over the summer. We would text each other and everything and made plans to hang out outside of work and sometimes we would go grocery shopping together. We would text at like 4 am if we couldn’t sleep and just keep each other company. Well 2 weeks ago on Wednesday we had a really heart to heart conversation about life and I basically almost cried and she told me how much she cared about me and everything and then last Friday 2 days later she went cold and just refused to talk to me and it went on for week untill last Friday until I got the courage to speak to her because she’s been ignoring me and when she talks to me she told me how coworkers can’t be friends and how it’s not okay how close we got but I don’t get it I just don’t get it. She’s was friends with all her other coworkers but when it comes to me it’s different. It just hurts so much because I know I’m a shitty person for liking a girl while I’m in a relationship but she meant a lot to me and before she was my friend and I just miss my friend and the person I was able to trust, she told me she called about me and turned on me and I’m just so hurt

When I moved in with my dads parents his mom said that I could bring my 2 cats with me and now she made me put their litter box outside because according to her its making her house stink even though its upstairs in the bathoom in a corner and the bathroom is in my bedroom to which I havent smelt it I only smell it when I need to clean it. Shes also been accusing my cats of spraying because she smells cat spray even though my dad and grandpa have both been upstairs with me and havent smelt cat spray (My dad claims he can smell a sneeze on peoples hands so I believe if he cant smell it then they arent spraying). Thinks they will have more joy outside when I keep telling her yes they were inside outside cats at my previous place but she wont listen and she also wants them to hunt rats/mice for her.

I grew up in a very religious family and currently a teens rn.(forgive me if my English or grammar is wrong)

My family would always bring me and my brother to church every sabbath. Tbh I've never missed a sabbath. And they say that gay people are an abomination. And I read bl (boys love) and the reason I read it was probably just to run away from my own problems. I know it's really not a good thing to do but I can't stop reading it. it's becoming an obsession. I just feel really guilty for doing this but I really can't stop it's the only reason I can keep a smile. It was my source of happiness. It was always there for me. But i feel like im betraying my parents by doing this. I really feel guilty. I feel like I'll get disowned if I get discovered. But I just really don't know what to do. I really need to quit doing this. Please someone share some advice In which way i should go.

Entertaining family and friends has always been a passion of mine, especially for festive occasions and birthdays. I am generally the mastermind behind the lavish Christmas gatherings and often the host for various birthdays at my place. I put a lot of effort into crafting a delectable menu, cooking everything from scratch, and ensuring the space is beautifully decorated. Since embracing the role of host a few years back, I added touches like Secret Santa for Christmas and sometimes organize games or karaoke depending on the event.

Prior to this change, our family gatherings were quite modest—just a simple meal that might include a barbecue, ordering pizzas, or enjoying traditional dishes and a store-bought cake for dessert. These gatherings were very straightforward: come over, eat, and then head home. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with that but having a deep affection for Christmas, about four years ago, I volunteered to host and decided to elevate the entire experience. Everyone was impressed and they showered me with compliments. Over time, my culinary and event planning skills have significantly improved, and I take great pride in the lively and memorable events I create. Soon, my relatives began to request that I host their birthday parties as their gift, which I gladly embraced. It’s worth noting that my immediate family includes around 9 or 10 people, making these gatherings manageable and not overly costly.

Now for the recent problem. During the latest events, such as the previous Christmas, and the birthdays of my mom, uncle, aunt, and my husband, I've noticed an unpleasant change in attitude among the guests.

For instance, I sent out detailed invitations indicating that the parties would start at 3:30 pm. However, some family members would arrive at noon, questioning why I wasn’t prepared. At my husband's birthday, they noticed that I was still setting up decorations and complained about the absence of food (despite being informed that it was an early dinner). They implored me to stop decorating and start cooking as they were hungry, which I found quite rude.

Ultimately, everyone started to meddle, eating snacks and rushing me to adjust everything to suit their preference, which ultimately dismantled my original plan for the event. The party did not unfold as envisioned, and after hastily preparing the food, several guests departed immediately after eating, leaving just six of us to continue the evening.

This pattern was repeated at other celebrations: arriving too early, criticizing my readiness, eating, then leaving.

This brings me to a recent conversation with my mom, who inquired about my plans for this year's Christmas. I responded that I wasn't planning anything due to their last display of ingratitude and my decision to step back, which sparked an argument. She accused me of being unable to "take a joke" and advised that I should "learn to accept help and adapt to our family's way."

The conversation was unresolved but left me questioning whether I was reasonable in my feelings. My husband supports me, but I'm curious about impartial perspectives...

Imagine if my situation were part of a reality show—how dramatic and revealing that episode could be! The cameras capturing every early guest, every complaint, and my frustrated attempts to meet unforeseen demands. It could really offer a unique perspective on boundary setting and familial relationships in high-pressure situations.

Are my expectations for family gatherings unreasonable?

Year 12 is so god damn mentally draining. While I don't have really strict parents they are still brown. I know they say that they just want me to do my best and get what I can achieve I FEEL LIKE IM DROWNING.

bio, i like bio. its something i perform decently well in. my parents never pushed me towarsd the typical be an engenieer or doctor, i still find interest in science and maybe research stuff.

maths however is a different story. maths makes me want to kms. I was an academically gifted student at maths up till grade 9 or 10 but then everything fell. The only thing my parents care "most" about is maths.

after my recent maths test that's quite important i was stressing and they said don't worry about it, you'll do good and even if you don't as long as you tried hard.

that made me feel a bit better. however, a few days later i got my marks back and i did pretty shit. 17/40. for someone who needs to perform quite well. I dont know what happened but evey single day afterschool they WOULD NOT STOP ASKING ME WHEN I WAS GETTING MY MARKS BACK. my dad then says as long as you get 25 plus its fine.

wtf? The problem is that this test I actually fucking tried. i studied for 2 weeks, did the book chapters, past papers? and did worse than last time. my mental health is decreasing. I think im slowly starting to fucking spiral. i cant concentrate anymore, cant focus. i just cant do anything.

I dont what to tell my parents. say i got a 20/40 but i dont know

my reports come out in a few days so they will porbaly see where i sit compared to others i am fucking scared. they wont be mad just 'dissapointed' i want to fucking disappear and never shwo up ever ever again.

i hate school i hate maths. whoever created this system i hope you suffered because i hope it was worth sacrificing millions of kids' lives for somehtign so irrelevant. calculus? trig?

so I'm bisexual and have been for a bit and last year I made friends with people and I really liked them and we got along well kinda I never really talked and was always left out but after a while around January of 2024 I found out they were calling me a F@ggot and a queer and I was forcing them to be my friend and I was weird and it took a toll on my already bad mental health and I stopped talking to them but then they acted like they have never met me and they didn't sh!t talk me

I should start by saying I have kids. I am extremely grateful for that. Tonight I’m just thinking about all the stuff I’ve sat on for 3+ years from my babies because I pictured myself so actively watching other peoples kids and raising them with my own. But no one asks me to babysit or brings their kids here. Just makes me sad. I have a bottle & sippy, snack cups, a high chair, a play chair, a bouncer, a play pen, a changing mattress, a bassinet, an extra car seat even. Literally “just in case” and there’s never an “in case” from the people in my circle. I’ve always been the “lady that’s good with kids” my entire adult life.. I worked with kids for years before changing careers. People used to ask me to babysit constantly before I had my own. It’s just weird being at this point and always picturing myself being the mom with all the kids at her house but all the kids are just mine. I know it’s probably something stupid to be sad about, but I can’t help it when I see the stuff in the back of the cabinet. I know people probably just assume I don't want more kids here on top of my 3. I have twins in preschool and my oldest is less than 2 years older… but I wish they would just ask anyway.

At the age of 45, finding myself entrenched in a troubling situation involving my 25-year-old nephew and the rest of our family, I could certainly use some outside perspectives, as this ordeal has left me feeling extremely distressed.

Last year proved to be challenging for my nephew as he lost his job and could no longer afford his share in a flat with friends. Having been closely involved in his upbringing and nurturing a deep bond with him over the years, I felt compelled to extend my help. I had recently acquired a house specifically for rental purposes, and I allowed him to reside there while he regained financial stability. Alongside this, I provided him with a cash gift of $3,000 to cover immediate living expenses.

A few months into this arrangement, my nephew secured a position at a prestigious tech company. Over the Thanksgiving dinner, he couldn't help but boast about his considerable starting salary, which surprisingly matched what I earn after a decade at my job. Naturally, I was thrilled and proud of his accomplishments.

With the arrival of spring, I felt it was appropriate for him to transition into his own place or start contributing rent for the house he occupied. Despite his apparent financial stability—indicated by his high salary—he vehemently refused, citing convenience and alleged financial constraints as reasons to continue staying rent-free. Confused by his resistance, I proposed a rental agreement priced slightly above my mortgage cost, significantly less than the market rate, which he also declined and subsequently reduced our interactions to a minimal level.

The tension escalated when my family persuaded me to serve him a 30-day eviction notice, legally notarized, which he outright ignored. During a maintenance visit to repaint the house, he reacted aggressively and damaged property. Left with no alternative, I initiated an eviction process. Amidst this turmoil, I discovered through a security camera that he had sold several of my stored valuables, prompting me to involve the police.

Things took a darker turn when he was apprehended coming back home under the influence, resulting in drug-related charges. Now, my family blames me for exacerbating his downfall, accusing me of knowing about his substance issues beforehand, despite his condition being revealed during the police intervention. They argue I should have resolved this privately.

Through this ordeal, I have tried to maintain a balance between support and discipline, yet I find myself overwhelmed by guilt and stress. It’s clear he overstepped many boundaries, but the familial backlash is difficult to bear.

In such a predicament, I often wonder how this would unfold if it were part of a reality TV show. Would the audience empathize with my efforts to help my nephew, or would they view my actions as too harsh, given the dramatic turn of events? It's curious how reality TV can skew perceptions of real-life crises, often highlighting intense family dynamics that resonate deeply with viewers.

Am I wrong for taking such steps?

I'm grappling with a real dilemma here and could use some impartial opinions. I'm 28 years old and soon to be wed. The thorn in my side? My future husband's mother. To put it mildly, she's proven quite difficult over the years. For instance, she recently celebrated my fiancé's 29th birthday by posting an album on social media, pointedly excluding any photos of me, despite our seven-year relationship. This feels like another jab in her ongoing pattern of less-than-welcoming behavior toward me.

Further frustrating is the response I get when I bring these concerns up to my fiancé. He tends to dismiss her actions by saying things like, "That's just how her own mother-in-law treated her," or "That's just her personality." But, does that really excuse the behavior? Just recently, for example, after I brought up the exclusion from the birthday post, she begrudgingly added a photo of us. However, it was an unflattering shot where I'm in a bikini – it's as if she chose the least flattering photo deliberately, despite there being plenty of nicer options.

Her antics don't stop at social media either. Once when she was visiting, we went out to dinner with some mutual friends. She announced to the waitress that she'd be paying for everyone's meal except mine in a very pointed manner. And whenever she's around, she pretty much ignores me in my own home. If I am affectionate with my fiancé around her, she'll escalate her own displays of affection toward him uncomfortably, even using pet names like 'babe,' which makes both of us uneasy.

Given all this, I'm at a crossroads about including her in the morning preparations on my wedding day. It's usually a time reserved for close family and calming nerves, and I can't help but feel her presence might disrupt the peace of that morning. While they live a few hours away, and her direct involvement day-to-day isn’t an issue, wedding days are different, aren’t they?

Additionally, imagine if all these personal conflicts played out on a reality show. The audience would likely be split, with some viewers empathizing with my situation and others possibly viewing me as overreacting to traditional family dynamics. It’s intriguing to think about how the added pressure of public opinion could influence the handling of such familial issues.

If anyone has navigated similar choppy waters, your perspective would be a treasure right now. Am I being unreasonable, or is my desire for a drama-free wedding morning justified?

There's a girl at work I like, but she's not my cup of tea. I sense she's interested in something beyond that, but I'm not. I sense she's somewhat delusional and capable of bursting into tears if her dream isn't fulfilled to the letter, if even the slightest change occurs. I don't want her to be the one directing the relationship, because otherwise, I'll be at the mercy of her dominance, with serious work-related repercussions resulting from the disappointment if I give in. If I were to propose to continue a relationship with her on an ongoing basis, it would be like holding her in that dream, no matter what, taking advantage of it, since she gains power over me: being however she wants in exchange, of course, for not breaking that dream.

I don't see a girl with prodigious mental health as a prerequisite, since her desire is to succumb to disappointment. Without the emotional management that subsequently impacts social situations to maintain relief, there's no possibility of a deep relationship, whether romantic or even dating. I continue to be amazed at how people give up on the illusion of being liked by another person and don't first examine the person they're dealing with. This leads me to a modus operandi that doesn't take responsibility for visualizing where the next step, which they sense they're going to take blindly, given their impulses, will lead.

In these circumstances, my dear friends, I understand the need to take risks, but there's also the need to observe, at least as far as you can see, which in itself is important for making decisions. There are undoubtedly times when the challenge will be worthwhile, but that's only if, based on our vision, we don't see anything that threatens our stability. The point is whether it's just right. Indeed, we can talk about difficulties; however, these seem valid to me when they enter into an axis that results in enrichment, which they all are. However, there are times when they arise and they correspond only to the need to distance oneself, since in our modus operandi there is no such enrichment, but rather an abandonment.

It's painful for me to feel that I cannot succumb with complete peace of mind to this woman because I am also eager for a relationship, even though I adore my solitude. My solitude stems precisely from accepting that I am capable of developing alone rather than in a group, because I haven't found a group that casts doubt on this idea, but rather reinforces it. Which makes me think that perhaps I only visualize those who make me feel that it's better to be alone, referring, of course, to my past, where being under a hegemony and consecrated as a family for my family, I saw solitude as a path to development.

Nowadays, I find it difficult to think of a group that supports my development, although I can't say that being alone isn't the first step toward such an issue. It's first about seeing where we're coming from, a question that speaks to our environment and, at the same time, a distancing from it, and then moving toward where we feel framed in terms of such an exercise in development. We can say they are stages. The relationships I've had before have been more of a way out of such a hegemonic family situation, given the excitement it holds for me. But the very effect of this very situation undermined me. Ultimately, in a hegemonic system, its origin lies in a heightened illusion about oneself, specifically in behavior.

I wish the circumstances with this girl were different, as in other cases, but it must be said that her usefulness to my well-being wasn't in deepening the relationship for a shared destiny, but rather to point out that I wasn't yet ready to leave such an environment, because, in principle, there isn't the distancing that would make it so. Physical distance in this sense was, like courtship, also a very attractive and widely accepted call. However, stability would depend on maintaining the hope with which I would be received. In itself, there was no escape. Furthermore, other interested individuals of different kinds would not be able to contemplate me because, in principle, I would not be able to contemplate them, and neither would they in me because I harbor fear of the environment in the midst of getaways, which implies the production of inconveniences to their stability. By nature, we all seek that which does not provide them, although sometimes this is in such demand that it is very expensive, as can be a blur, as are courtships and physical distances that were sometimes recommended to me, as I was told.

It's clear that family situations can't be resolved with easy solutions, because such complexity permeates the modus operandi and makes such an easy solution a path to another hell, but one that's more comforting thanks to the cessation in the face of deep disappointment, and on top of that, with us there defending that, because we have the feeling, although projected, that the idea of a better place is a lie. Nor can we turn back, because those who have welcomed us feel their support for us after such a situation has been in constant decline inside.

As a father of four kids, you’d think I’d have the patience of a saint by now, but that’s just not the case. The tiniest things set me off, and I hate the way it feels. I love my family more than anything, but there are days when I catch myself snapping over something completely ridiculous and wonder what’s wrong with me.

Take last night, for example. Dinner time at our house is always chaotic. Plates clatter, someone spills their drink, and there’s a constant battle over who gets the last roll. It’s the usual stuff, and I know it’s part of having a big family, but when my youngest accidentally knocked over the salt shaker for the third time in a week, I lost it. I raised my voice, and the look on her face—pure shock—hit me like a punch to the gut. It was just salt. Why couldn’t I just laugh it off like my wife did? Instead, I made her feel bad for a mistake that didn’t matter.

This kind of thing happens all the time. It’s not the big issues that get to me—it’s the little, everyday stuff. Toys left in the hallway, a sock that doesn’t have a match, a crayon mark on the wall... all of it feels like tiny needles poking at me until I can’t hold it in anymore. And when I snap, I immediately regret it. I see the way my kids look at me, the way my wife sighs and shakes her head, and I know I’m the one in the wrong.

I’ve been trying to figure out where this anger is coming from. It’s not like I want to feel this way. I don’t wake up thinking, Gee, I can’t wait to get annoyed at the world today. But by the time the day’s over, I’m worn out. Between work, bills, chores, and keeping up with four kids, it’s like my patience tank runs dry way too fast. It doesn’t take much to set me off after that.

I think part of it is the pressure I put on myself to keep everything together. I want to be a good dad, a good husband, and someone my family can rely on. But when things don’t go the way I expect—when the house is messy, or the kids are fighting, or dinner gets burned—it feels like I’m failing. And instead of dealing with that feeling, I let it boil over into anger.

Another part of it is how I grew up. My dad was the same way. He’d get angry over the smallest things—a shoe left out of place, a door left open, the TV being too loud. Back then, I swore I’d never be like that, but here I am, falling into the same patterns. Maybe it’s something I picked up without realizing it, but that doesn’t make it okay. I don’t want my kids to remember me as the dad who yelled over spilled milk.

I’ve started trying to be more aware of my triggers. Like, when I feel that frustration bubbling up, I try to pause and ask myself, Is this really worth getting upset over? Sometimes it works, but other times, it’s like the anger is faster than my logic. I know I need to find better ways to cope, but it’s hard to break a habit that feels so ingrained.

My wife has been incredibly patient through all of this. She’s the calm one in the family, the one who can laugh off the chaos and remind me to do the same. The other day, after I got upset about a broken remote control, she pulled me aside and said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, you know. It’s okay if things aren’t perfect.” I know she’s right, but letting go of that control is easier said than done.

The hardest part is the guilt. After I’ve calmed down, I think about how my kids must see me in those moments, and it breaks my heart. I don’t want them to feel like they’re walking on eggshells around me. I want them to feel safe, to know that mistakes are okay and that their dad loves them no matter what. But when I let my anger take over, I’m sending the opposite message.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the same way, I want you to know you’re not alone. Being a parent is hard, and we’re all just trying to do the best we can. But I also know that getting angry over little things isn’t fair—to ourselves or to the people we love. It’s something I’m working on every day, and if you’re struggling with it too, maybe we can figure it out together.

I don’t have all the answers yet, but I know this: I don’t want to keep asking myself, why do I get so angry over little things? I want to find a way to let go, to focus on what really matters, and to be the kind of dad my kids can look up to. It’s not going to happen overnight, but I think acknowledging the problem is the first step.

Here’s hoping the next time the salt shaker falls, I can just laugh it off and keep going. Because in the end, it’s not about the salt—it’s about the love and chaos that comes with being part of a big, messy, wonderful family.

Growing up, I was used to being praised by my relatives. My aunts and uncles, and most importantly, my mother and father. I was the younger sibling, have an older and only sister, I was praised because I achieved far more greater things than my sibling had, as they've said really. I grew up having those expectations normalised towards me because I never had trouble keeping up with them. I also won those competitions because my mom wants me to and has me practice hard. With honours, first placer in poster making, the class and even the schools representative when competing with other schools in the district, once in the division level..

I was never the smart kid though, just enough, by fourth grade I entered every single poster and any art related contests and won the gold medal most of the time. I never connected it to the fact that those added points must've been what pulled my grades high.

My older sibling always had lesser grades than me, always berated and compared to my higher grades. I always preened on the compliments yet maybe I should’ve felt bad instead that my sibling was being judged and ridiculed for barely passing. I didn't know then what it felt like.

I never thought I’d experience those things, yet I did. Entering highschool, I never placed high expectations on myself. Why would I when big grades always came naturally to me even without the tiring studying back at elementary?

Yet now, lesson after lesson I fail to comprehend them, I barely understood the materials and repeatedly got less than good scores in activities and tests. I excel in project making yet pretty designs will never get me far. Now I barely hang on to my honour streak.

Then that day came.

Our advisor posted the list of who made it to the honours list in our class gc. And for the first time I didn’t see my name. At most half of us didn't make it to the honour list so I rationalized that Im not an odd one out. I didn’t feel much, I didn’t let myself feel much, not while I was in school in front of my friends. I felt disappointed, sure but I let it go because I knew I couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

Then when I got home, I suddenly felt myself being nervous around my mother, she kept asking me and I relented and told her I failed for the very first time to be in the honour list.

What hurt more was that she didn’t scream at me. She usually does on smaller matters (she'd curse a lot) but now she simply sounded disappointed, berated me and told me how I would tell my hardworking father. What’s worse was that I was now the one being compared to my older sibling who was passing her classes.

I didn't cry, I didn’t feel like needing to cry even by then, I was ashamed but I didn’t cry, I felt numb that I didn’t cry, I kept quiet and took in all her words. She told me she expected better and that honest to god hurts most.

When dinner came around my mother told my father about my failed grades, he sounded disappointed and angry too. I didn’t cry. I expected and deserved it.

Yet. when I was alone, feeding the dog (she's tied outside by the shop where my dad fixes cars, he's a self employed mechanic) I felt my eyes water and tears started falling down, my chest tightened and I wanted to stop yet I couldn't. I hid behind our car that was nearby, ashamed to be seen crying over my failed grades. Now hunched over in the shadows, trying desperately to wipe the onslaught of tears, I took and shaky breaths and composed myself as best as I could. Finishing up with my chore and going to my room as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out.

So, my best friend just broke up with his girlfriend a few days ago, and honestly, I have no clue how to handle it... Like, what do you even say to someone who’s heartbroken? 😕 He’s been with her for three years, and I could tell he really loved her. They had their ups and downs like any couple, but I always thought they’d make it work somehow. Now he’s just... empty, I guess. He doesn’t talk much, barely eats, and even when I try to joke around, he just gives that half-smile, you know the one? That smile that’s there just to make you stop worrying. It’s hard to see someone you care about going through that kind of pain, especially when you can’t fix it. I’ve been trying to hang out with him more, take him out for walks, grab a drink, or just watch something dumb to distract him, but I can tell it’s not really helping. Maybe I’m trying too hard? Or maybe I’m not doing enough?? I keep wondering what people actually do in these situations, like, do you let them cry it out, or do you keep them busy so they don’t think too much? 🤔

Yesterday, he came over to my place, and we just sat in silence for almost an hour before he started talking. He said, “I don’t even know who I am without her.” That hit me hard, not gonna lie. I wanted to tell him something deep or comforting, but my brain just froze. I didn’t wanna sound like those people who drop clichés like “time heals all wounds” or “you’ll find someone better.” Those lines sound so empty when you’re the one hurting, right? But then again, what else can you say when you don’t know how to take away someone’s pain? I just told him that it’s okay to not be okay, and that he doesn’t need to rush to move on. I also told him that he’s still him, with or without her. I don’t know if that helped, but he nodded, so maybe it did. Still, I keep asking myself, what’s the right balance between giving someone space and showing that you care? Because I don’t wanna smother him, but I also don’t wanna disappear and make him think he’s alone in this;

The funny thing is, I’ve never been through a serious breakup myself, so I can’t even relate to what he’s feeling. I can imagine it’s like losing a part of yourself, like this big void suddenly opens up in your life. You go from having someone to share every little thing with to having silence in moments that used to be full of laughter. I guess that’s why I’m struggling, I’m trying to understand something I’ve never lived. I don’t wanna be the guy who says “you’ll be fine” when I have no idea what fine even means in that context. Sometimes I think the best thing to do is just sit there and listen, without trying to fix anything. But at the same time, it feels weird doing nothing while someone’s clearly hurting. It’s that helpless feeling that messes me up. Maybe you’ve been in my place before? How did you comfort your friend when they were heartbroken? Did you talk it out, or did you let them figure it out on their own? I feel like everyone handles breakups differently, some need to talk, others shut down, and some pretend they’re okay until they actually are. 😔

I guess what I’m really wondering is, what’s the right thing to do for someone who’s not ready to move on yet but also doesn’t want to be alone? I can’t force him to forget her, and I don’t wanna distract him to the point where he’s just ignoring what he feels. Maybe comfort isn’t about finding the right words but just being there, showing up even when you don’t know what to say. I’ve been thinking maybe I could plan a weekend trip somewhere, just us, to get him out of the same routine. Or maybe I should just keep checking in, one day at a time. The hard part is seeing him blame himself for everything when I know it wasn’t just his fault. He keeps saying he should’ve been better, done more, listened more... but relationships end for a reason, and it’s never only one person’s fault. I told him that, and he looked like he wanted to believe me, but his eyes said otherwise. So yeah, here I am, stuck trying to figure out how to comfort someone after a breakup, not just say the right thing, but be the right kind of friend. Maybe that’s what real comfort is: showing up, even when you’re just as lost as they are. 💬

It literally cannot just be me but I swear whenever I'm angry I have to refrain from like hurt myself and I don't like cut myself or anything because I don't want the scars but like sometimes I'll bite i bruise and I know that's not good but sometimes I also bang my head against the wall not hard but sometimes enough to get a headache because when I try expressing my feelings or how I feel my parents do this thing with it's like say this or that and they be like well if I could do this and if I could do that blah blah blah blah blah but when I try to do that they say no we can't do that right now or no that's not going to work etc. and stuff like that and and it just feels like so much but I actually just got done crying again and this time I didn't bring my head on the wall and I did bite myself but it was like very softly at least for me it was soft because I didn't have a pretty high pain tolerance but yeah I am really proud of myself for not doing what I normally do and being able to stop myself for a second and calm down I think I'm a post on here a lot though because I don't really have friends because of homeschooled so yep. ( This was typed with voice text sorry if it suck but I feel like I can barely type rn) is this just me???

Sincerely,

Melody