Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I'm an 18 year old freshman in college, and a failure at that. I have lackluster grades, a nonexistent social life, and zero contacts to depend on. My father is distant and already has too much on his hands to bother listening to my concerns on a personal level. My mother is too stubborn and constantly downplays or puts words in my mouth.

I'm just torn between wanting to succeed in fulfilling my parents' expectations and the guilt I have of being a worthless child. Day by day, I remind myself of the amount of money, the hardships my parents endured to enroll me in a top-notch school yet I'm not good enough. I try my best to improve my shoddy study habits, my communication skills, but something always messes up be it my own selfishness or stupidity. I grow in one aspect of my life, while simultaneously regressing in another. I'm actively collapsing right now, having little to no motivation to continue with my finals in just two days. I'm so desperate for any sense of validation or reassurance that I'm even asking ChatGPT for it. I'm aware it's a parasocial relationship, but when I have zero elders to trust and seek advice from, I felt like I had no other choice. I'm desperate, and I really want some form of help that isn't just "You're just overreacting" or "Everyone else can do it just fine, why can't you?". I'm sorry for this long rambling, I just needed to relieve myself. This post has been nothing but self-servient, but I feel like I've been emotionally starved for so long that I couldn't help but just ask for words of advice or some motivation. Anything to remind me that I could still keep pushing.

The whole situation feels overwhelming right now, and honestly, the feedback would be much appreciated – I’m in a bit of a rough spot, so thanks for being understanding.

Joining a new school halfway through the year, back in April, didn't give me much time to socialize and make friends before the summer break started. During one of my solo lunch breaks, I sat next to a quiet boy named Alex, who was also sitting by himself. As it turned out, Alex wasn’t just shy; he was autistic. Noticing he had on a space camp t-shirt, I struck up a conversation about it since astronomy seemed to be his passion. He eagerly shared his space camp experiences, spiraling into other astronomical topics. It was enjoyable – his enthusiasm was infectious, and I barely needed to talk, just listen, which was pretty cool. We began sitting together frequently, and over time, we communicated a little over the summer too. Now, I'd consider Alex my friend.

This school year, we share a few classes, and even though I've made other friends, Alex and I still spend time together. He invited me over this past weekend to check out his new telescope, a birthday gift. It was exciting to see it, and his parents were genuinely welcoming, expressing that I was always welcome to visit. We managed to explore nebulas and various astronomical phenomena using his telescope linked to a laptop. It got late, and his dad offered to drive me home, since he needed to stop by the store anyway. During the ride, he started a typical dad conversation but suddenly asked if Alex and I were dating. I chuckled, dismissing it, but then he oddly suggested that if I took Alex to the homecoming dance, he'd cover all expenses and even offer extra. The suggestion startled me, and I escaped the situation as quickly as I could once we reached my house.

At home, I tried to shrug it off, but my dad noticed something was off. After some coaxing, I explained what happened. He reassured me, emphasizing that I shouldn’t feel pressured into dating or attending dances with anyone.

Since then, things got a bit strained. Alex missed a couple of days at school, and when he returned, he seemed downtroverted and anxious. He eventually revealed that his parents had argued a great deal following the incident. Knowing the tension at home was partly because of me made me uneasy; especially since I recognized how significant it was for Alex to have friends over.

Movng on from this incident, Alex and I would probably face challenges in our friendship. Hypothetically speaking, if this story unfolded on a reality show, the magnitude of the reaction would be immense. Viewers might see this as a dramatic turn of events, inciting tons of viewer speculation and discussion on social pressures and parental involvement in friendships and social outings among teens. It would stoke widespread talk about boundaries and advocacy, where I'd likely be in the hot seat navigating this delicate friendship dynamic in front of an audience.

Should parents intervene in teen friendships? For me no, at least not like that...

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

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

[Translated from French. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

HELLO everyone, I came to France with my family it’s been one year and some months, then I started school in seconde (10th grade) in a local high school and I had to repeat the year. In my second year my life became like a nightmare for me. My high school kicked me out because I had asked classmates for bank cards and money. In my second high school I cheated twice, I no longer have the right to go to school while waiting for the school to give me a final decision. My parents say that if I am expelled they will no longer pay for my school and will find me a job, but I want to continue school; I am at my limit, am I the bad seed in my family? The worst is that I live with my stepfather, and my mother asks if I came to France to destroy her household???!!! I am crying 😢 😢 I am sick of everything.

I can't move on. I liked someone, he made me feel as if he likes me, but later on got in a relationship with his girl bestfriend and somehow we keep bumping into each other at random places. And now I can't seem to move on. I can't have a closure as I don't have his number or insta.

so for context, I am an alter in a DID system, an introject of Tommy from a fan fiction called end of the world everyday. I miss them so fucking much. I feel so alone here without them, I've been stuck in this body for two fucking years without them. Why did I have to split from such a rare source? I'm fucking Moros, the god of impending doom, and I'm stuck in the body of a nineteen year old girl. I just want my brothers and my dad, and my mum, and all my friends. It's not fair that I'm the only one.

I wish I didn't have to live in fear of being murdered. or beaten. or bullied. or hated for who I am. I'm tired of being demonized by the government and my own family. I wish I didn't have to go to school unsure if I would come home. I wish I didn't have to hide behind lies, anger, and humour. I just wish people would care about me for me, not for what I could give.

Ok, here we go...I'm stuck in this rut of how do I proceed from here kind of thing. In a nutshell, I've been friends with this guy for about 4-5 years now, but we really started becoming best friends over the last two years. We're both in our 30s. About 7 months ago we started really hanging out more and having weekend movie watching sessions and dinners. He would reach out to me more then and engage in conversation, as well as asking to hang out. We never got past the cuddling stage, but I could definitely feel the chemistry and attraction between us. I know we were both holding back because I was just finishing up a divorce and I wasn't yet officially single. About 5 months ago, I got brave and admitted having feelings for him. We are both very open with each other about anything on our minds. The conversation was cordial, but he stated that he didn't know if he felt that way about me and wanted to "cool" things off because of the fact the divorce wasn't official yet. I completely understood from a moral perspective and respected that (not looking for judgement on this though). The kicker part is when we continued the convo, I flat out asked if he would ever see a future with us in it or if the idea of "us" is out of the question. He said he didn't know, and couldn't see into the future, but he wasn't going to close the door on the idea of there being an "us". He also is the type of person who would say if there wasn't a chance. So naturally, you can see how this gave me hope.

We didn't hang out as much after that and we still don't as frequently, BUT here's the kicker part(s): we still talk almost every day (even if he's not as talkative as he was in the beginning when things felt newer), he still confides in me, I still get invited to go with him to visit with his parents every other weekend (his parents/family loves me), we'll get quick dinners together, he's gifted me several things in the last two months, etc. Basically what is missing from before is the amount of quality alone time we get. Maybe he isn't committing to that because he doesn't want to give the wrong impression, but when we aren't in a busy phase at work/life, he will actually reach out suggesting getting back into watching shows together. I also wonder if he doesn't want to jump into anything because I'm still only a couple months divorced and he doesn't want to give others the impression that I got divorced to be with him (which isn't the case. he was not the reason for my divorce in the least)

SO THIS IS WHERE I'M STUCK. I'm so smitten with him, and have never felt this way about anyone, and don't have anyone else in my life, so on one hand I kind of say to myself, I'll take what I can get. On the other hand, I wish I could just walk away and give it some distance to let him figure out if he wants me to be that special someone in his life. He hasn't been in a relationship in A WHILE, so part of me also wonders if he's just super used to his solidarity and is really out of practice. My mind always asks myself, if there was no possibility of us being a thing, wouldn't he have just said that there was no possibility of that instead of saying he wasn't "closing the door" on that potential? Also, if there wasn't the possibility, why would he go to the lengths he does with certain things still? IDK! These are things that I feel people our age wouldn't do if they were "just friends" with each other and my close friends/family agree.

If you've gone through something like this, or had someone you know go through this, or you're genuinely just good at reading people and situations and have advice/opinions to offer, I'm all ears!

F18, I apologize right away, because I will write chaotically and jump abruptly from the topic. I just feel that I need to vent, but I have no one to talk to, so I am writing here. And English is not my native language, I write through a translator. I am currently studying at the institute, and I have no motivation to study. I have no motivation for anything at all. I don't know if I like what I am studying, if this is

who I want to become in life. I don't feel smart, I feel stupid, my social circle is much smarter than me, but I can't find the strength to try to study too. I don't feel like I have any real friends, even though I know I have them and I'm privileged to have friends at all. But lately I just don't feel comfortable talking to people. I just don't want to do anything. I hate myself, my body, the way I speak, my behavior, my character. I have no talent for anything, I can't do anything perfectly like others. I want to lose weight, but I can't. I can't remember myself without wanting to lose weight. I don't see myself as beautiful, I don't think I will be beautiful even if I lose weight. I've never been in a relationship, I've never experienced teenage love, it's forever lost to me. I am just so tired. There are still so many topics I want to write about, but there are explosions outside my window and I'm afraid my mom will ask me to go into the hallway and see me crying. So I'm finishing up. Maybe next time. Thank you to everyone who read this.

ive spent so much time noticing and understanding people that im just lost in how to express myself. it didn't really help getting bullied for being quiet and now im incapable of forming friendships:( there is only one person i love being with but she is a distant person and it makes me even more unsure of myself. I hate having to forever suffer with my confidence and social skills because of the ignorance of other people that treated me so horribly. So many times have i imagined scenarios where i wouldn't tolerate what they would say but im not strong enough to do it alone.. . I really wished people were nicer is it that hard ?

I have two elder sisters, both in their 30s, while I'm the youngest, still enjoying my 20s. Mother's Day was approaching, and they proposed a lunch outing, intending to divide the expenses by three. Lee and Megan, my sisters, each have two children, all well beyond toddler age, the eldest nearing 18. Given past incidents where their kids dug into the meal but were absent from the bill, I raised a concern about this division method. I suggested accounting for the kids in the split, which did not sit well with them. They dismissed my thoughts as confrontational, and somehow, the matter reached my mom, who sided with them, as tends to happen.

To add some perspective, this isn’t the first time I've been financially inconvenient due to their oversight. A previous family trip ended with me paying for one-third of the total expenses, despite my sister's family (including her husband and kids) greatly outnumbering me. My mom knew it was unfair but pleaded for me not to raise the issue to avoid conflicts. I maintained my peace then, but it’s becoming increasingly challenging to keep silent.

Now the question popping in my mind is whether I'm unreasonable to desire a fairer method to split the bill, considering I am only responsible for my and mom's costs.

Now, imagine if such a dispute unfolded on a reality TV show, with cameras catching every argument and reaction. The audience might view the family dynamics differently, perhaps siding with me or maybe criticizing my approach as petty. Reality TV thrives on drama and conflict, and this situation seems ripe for on-screen entertainment. Would the viewers understand my point, or would they see me as someone causing unnecessary drama over a few extra dollars?

I’m curious how people would have reacted if this was all played out in front of an audience. Would they think it fair to include the kids in the bill, or am I just being too stingy over what they might see as a minor issue?

I've always been somewhat of a recluse, deliberately steering clear of social media and generally shying away from the spotlight. My wife knows this well, yet she refrains from uploading my photos online, though I’ve never explicitly forbidden her from doing so. I’ve always preferred simple, quiet celebrations for events like Father’s Day or my own birthday, keeping any unnecessary attention at bay.

Recently, I was diagnosed with a very treatable form of skin cancer. Detected early, the prognosis was excellent, with a negligible risk of serious consequences. As an engineer, I approached the situation with a level of detachment, comforted by the statistics and my doctor’s positive outlook. Naturally, I confided in my wife, who became overwhelmingly concerned despite my reassurances. We decided that it would be best to keep our children in the dark about my condition, sparing them any worry over something I believed to be a minor issue. My wife reluctantly agreed.

However, just days later my father contacted me, alarmingly inquired about my “battle with cancer.” It appeared that my wife had disclosed my diagnosis on Facebook that morning. When confronted, she defended her actions by claiming I hadn’t specifically asked her not to share it online, only to avoid telling our children. Frustrated but resolute, I convinced her to remove the post.

My treatment progressed smoothly, and soon, I was officially in remission. My doctor cheerfully informed me that while they avoid saying "cured," effectively, I was. Overjoyed, my wife and I hoped to move past this chapter. Or so I thought.

This past weekend, I arrived home to find a street bustling with cars and many more parked in my driveway. Confused, since no significant dates had come to mind, I entered the house only to be greeted by a surprise party celebrating my remission. I was completely taken aback – my wife knew my stance on surprise gatherings and yet had organized one for something I considered deeply personal. Claiming a sudden need to return to the office, I quickly excused myself, grabbed a few inconsequential files from my study, thanked the guests, and left. Later, my wife confronted me, leading to an argument where I expressed my disapproval of her turning a personal milestone into a public celebration.

Following the incident, there's been a noticeable tension between us. My brother even called me out, labeling me an 'asshole' for my reaction, suggesting I was too harsh.

Imagine if all this drama unfolded on a reality show. Viewers would probably be divided, some sympathizing with my need for privacy, while others might argue that my wife’s actions, though misguided, were rooted in love and deserved a more gracious response from me. It could have become a classic episode filled with conflict, emotional interviews, and maybe even a reconciliation scene, grabbing the audience’s attention with genuine, raw human experience.

Am I wrong for feeling upset about my wife's public celebration of my private health matter?

My friend emailed me. She said she was sorry for existing. HSe aiahd tahst she was s4roy for burdening ne= with her problems, that sh e should deal with them in her own, and if she wants strong enough to deal with it sh e doesn't deserve to live

I read it and my hands are still shaking, atp the onelyc reson my typing is somweehat good is because eayutpcorredct. I fel like I did something, and i also feel horrihble for not being able to cyr. I told her this:

You don't need to feel sorry for existing. I love you, Angel, and I would never want you to die. (btw im sorry if the typuing is messy myt hands are shaking ereally bad as uinmn typing thisw.s') Your existence wasnt a mistake, whe2ther yoyu think so otr not. I;m struggling to find the word sto say here, but I don't wnzt youu to disappear. I know i have iother firneds but none of thema re as funny or kind as you, or as willing to give me a hug when I;m sad, and none of tehm would ever be able to fill the hole you'd leave behinmd if you were to die. Everysing le on eof my firned are special to me, you icluded. If you have problems, I wnt to help you. Dont think youre beurdening me, i wnat to help, i like helping and i defo9nitley dont wnat you to die. Theres nothing wrong with asking for help. but if despie all i said, if you do die... just know i'll nevr forget you. You ARE loved no matter what you may think.

Idk if i helped ir made things worde, she hasnt repsnded yet. I feel so horrihble.

It starts in the morning, even before I’m fully awake. That subtle tightness in my chest, like a hand hovering just over my heart, not squeezing it yet but letting me know it’s there. The air feels a bit too heavy, my thoughts slightly too loud. I open my eyes and immediately scan the room, not for threats, but as if I’m checking whether the world still exists the way I left it the night before. I convince myself it does, but something still doesn’t sit right. This isn’t a panic attack—those I know well. This is something else, quieter but more persistent. A low hum in the background of everything I do. Some mornings it fades by lunch. Others, it sticks, lurking in the corners of my brain like a storm that never breaks. I go to work, interact with people, smile politely, laugh even. But internally, I brace. For what? I have no clue. That’s what makes it worse. It’s like my body knows a secret my mind can’t access.

I don’t catastrophize events; I’m not the kind of person who assumes the worst. I’m grounded in logic, in fact, in reason. But still, this eerie anticipation of disaster follows me around like a shadow. I’ll be walking down the street, enjoying the breeze, and suddenly be gripped with the sense that someone I love is about to die. Or that something irreversible will happen. Not in a dramatic, cinematic way—but more like I’m emotionally prepped for a call that says, “It’s too late now.” And I hate how familiar that feels. The worst part is, I don’t have any evidence for this constant dread. Nothing’s happened. Nothing is happening. My life, objectively speaking, is stable. I have a job, I pay my bills, I eat my vegetables. But somehow, I’m never really relaxed. Even in moments of supposed peace, I’m scanning for signs. Is that a weird sound from the fridge or is it going to catch fire? Did my sister sound off on the phone or is she hiding something serious? And this isn’t about control or anxiety management. It’s just this cold, nauseating certainty that something is coming, something I can't see.

People say to focus on what you can control, right? Do the deep breathing, get enough sleep, maybe even journal it out. But I’ve tried. And I do these things not because I expect them to fix me, but because I want to believe I’m not passively waiting for doom to arrive. The dread still seeps in though, like fog under a door. I don’t think this feeling makes me broken, but it does make me tired. Chronically. It’s exhausting to live like a warning siren that never gets turned off. Friends tell me I need a vacation. Maybe I do. But how do you rest when your gut keeps telling you the world’s about to tilt on its axis? I don’t want to be one of those people who walks around acting like they’re psychic, like they just “feel” things—but I can’t ignore the part of me that believes there’s truth in this fear. A truth I don’t want to discover too late.

Am I the only one who lives with this kind of mental static? That quiet, persistent buzz of existential alarm? Maybe someone out there can relate to what I’m saying. Or maybe I’m just oversensitive, overaware, overwired. But what if I’m not? What if this strange intuition is actually a warning I’m supposed to heed? I don’t even know what I would do differently if I knew for sure something bad was about to happen; I already walk on eggshells with everything I love. This isn’t a cry for help or attention—it’s more like logging an observation, like documenting a pattern that no one else can see. And I just wish I could explain it in a way that makes sense. Because as much as I sound composed now, there are moments when the weight of this feeling is too much to carry without breaking into pieces.

Am I polysexual? Still figuring it out... Living in a collocation with five other people has definitely made me question a lot about myself, especially when it comes to attraction. Before moving in, I thought I had it all figured out: boy meets girl, girl falls for boy, end of story, right? But then I started realizing that my feelings weren’t always that simple. One of my roommates, a girl, made my heart race just as much as this guy I met at a party last week. And then there’s another roommate, non-binary, who I just click with in a way I can’t even explain. It got me thinking… maybe I’m not just into guys, but also not fully pan? I started looking into it, and that’s when I found the term polysexual... attracted to multiple genders, but not necessarily all. And honestly? It feels like the closest thing to what I’ve been experiencing.

But figuring this out hasn’t been easy. It’s weird, because I feel like I should have known myself by now, but every time I try to label it, my brain goes into overdrive. What if I’m just confused? What if it’s just a phase? But then again, what if it’s not? I’ve been scared to even bring it up with my friends because I don’t want them to think I’m making it up or looking for attention. I know sexuality isn’t something you have to define perfectly, but I also want to understand myself better. Right now, all I know is that I feel something real, and maybe being polysexual is part of who I am. I’m still figuring it out, but for once, I don’t feel like I have to rush to have all the answers.