Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Last night, we had a family reunion and I was already kind of in a bad mood since my had taken a nap bc of a hang over she still have from last night (she's a bit of an alchoholic) and overslept which caused us to be late to the dinner. once we reached the place we sat down and she started getting a little drunk agaiin thanks to the alchohol served, she started saying things (as she does when she's drunk) about me; like this waiter who looked a little older than me an make a living while i'm over here always cooped up in my room all the time(huh i wonder why); she also made some unnecessary comments about my dress (i asked her for help prior to the diner but she told me she didn't know and waved me off), i get that this was drunk talk and i shouldn't take it seriously but when it comes from someone who conributed in creating you it kinda hurts a little y'know? and then she started comparing to my cousins(average parent protocol atp)

and then it was time for a family group photo. I don't like to take photos that often so i tend to just scoot to the very edge of the group, and unfortunatley i was next ot her. She grabbed my waist which kinda scared me and i shved her away and then she started pulling me harder andlike digging her nails and screaming at me and i just got really stressed out. she would usually like swing an arm around me and all duirng group ohotos but never grab me which was whwy i kinda reacted that way. I know that i should'nt have acted out (especially in public like that) but i ws just really stressed at the time.

and after that she wasn't done with me yet and continuedscreaming at me saying that "i'm you're mother i should be allowed to touch you" and i told her that she grabbed me and it hurt a lot and she kept on denying that (keep in mind she's still drunk) and then this continues (by then i havd already put my earphones in so i could't here much of her slander) and even after the reunion she's still fighting with me. she gets up all ino my face which pissed me off (by thenim tired and just want he to shut up becasue she's etremely drunk by now).

and she's still fighting with me untilwe get into the car, my dad leaves us for us to settle down while he go finds the other family members to help them find their car and she starts hitting me, and my little brother is caught in between and i just wanted to pull him outta there because he was clearly stressed from the noise and trying to settle it down and my mom was grabbing him and isolating him from me it really hurt. she slapped me and made me hit my head a lot but at that point i was kinda numb for physical pain. i gave my little brother my earphones so he would have something to at least dronw out the noise.

and the things that when we were fighting i would say smt like "why do you hit me so much?" and she would say "you hate me! you don't love me!", and when i was rrying to explain she was making me uncomfortable whenn she grabbed me and i dont know what kinda mental gymnastics did she have to do to get from that to "i'm a danger to you!" "cal the police and arrest me!" "I'm a horrible mother!" "you're not a part of this family if i'm dangerous to you!"

i apologised for acting out in public when i probably shoulve' just sucked it up as she said and what not since everytime we take a rgoup photo she slings her arm around me (thats probably th eonly time we touchaso yeah that probably just gave me a headachre worse than when she shoved me into the car window. the way she grabbed my brother probably hurt the most tbh, i vowed to myself that i'd protect him and keep him safe from my parents but i just made things os much worse for him. and even after when my dad came bac did she stop saying anything, but once we got back she only continued. she strated hitting me more and screaming and repeating everything and she tore down the rack filled of things i genuinely care about. by then my dad came up and told her to stop and brought her away. i huddled up in the corner i think and started idk, becoming two people, i needed to clean up the mess she made but i also just wanted to sit there and rest, but i cleaned anyways while my parents fought outside. i heard something along the lines of "just go to sleep" (it was 2am) and that was it for then. after i finished cleaning my mom came back and started to scream at me again and getting me up agaiinst the wall and blocking my way when i was trying to do things, she pulled the "im a terrible mother" card and shoved her phone in my face trying ot get me to cal the police, it made me sick tbh, i apolohised again for the same thing just in case she forgot but also asked for my own since she kinda did hit me and onvade my personal space but she just huffed and she went back to her room (this actually made her look kinda like a kid which was a little unsettling per say)

and in the next 15 minutes she came back again to contonue screaming. she kept on grabbing and clawwing at my shoulder and wasit and generally just taunting me to "call the police" as she kept on saying. it honesty just gavenme the headache.

i know that during all that i was being as calm as i could possibly, letting her scream at me and what not. i was prettys sure she was drunk so i started making light of the sitautions like singing random meme audious or just making my own jokes to myself like if she was sticking her finger into my face i would go "wait, they dont loveme like i love you" (keep in mind it was 3am at that point and i cant say i was thinking straight either)

and eventually it got so bad because she wouldn't let me walk or have my own personal spcae (that i really like) that i went down, with my laptop to study for a test i have where my dad was watching tv thinking my mom wqas asleep. he asked me why i was still awake and coming down and at that point i just kinda broke down, and he went up and told her to stop repeated and harrasing me and all that. i couldn't sleep but i didn't feel like thinking at all, i just wanted to lay on the floor and breathe. my parents were fighting till maybe 4? im not toos ure sincei put on my headphones so silence it out. so yeah thats pretty much it but theres a few things that i wanna say about this:

- wheneve i tried to say something she would interrupt or she wouldn't take a single thing i said to consideration and pull out her own version of what i said and reply to that instead (probably bc of the alchohol)

- she would follow me around and grab me and taunt me and putting her face/finger/phone in my face which i think has just given me major claustrophobia

- she pulled the "i fought with your dad for you to go to a good school" card a lot but whenever it was just me or my dad, he woul always make sure i had the things i needed for school and always wanted to know i was happy or not, she's been pulling this card since i was idk, 5? and now that i think about it, someone who was againts giivng me a good education wouldn't want to further contribute to that no? she also said that she had to fight for me to have my own room which was also weird, idk who to trust anymore because it's not llike i can jyst ask my dad. but if she's lying then i think that she probabl had some delirious dream that was so vivid she belived it was true or maybe my dad actually didn't want me to have a good education but that would be really weird, but then again maybe he still doesn't believe in it but has no choice since he's already given in.

someone please tell me if this is normal and that i'm just being dramatic and that my teenager hormones are acting up

Two years ago, I received my degree, a milestone made possible by a dedicated savings effort from my parents starting when I was very young. I'm profoundly grateful for this and have striven to honor their efforts by excelling academically and graduating on time. Comparatively, my younger cousin Lara faced some challenges and ended up leaving college last year after not passing several classes. She's now ready to re-enroll, but there's a hitch — she's already depleted much of her college fund.

Just recently, her parents, my aunt and uncle, approached me with a request. They hoped I might consider transferring the remaining balance of my college fund to help Lara with her tuition. While it's true that I have some funds left — thanks primarily to a scholarship I received in my senior year — I told them I couldn't comply with their wish. I've earmarked these funds for my graduate studies or potentially a future home purchase, and it doesn't seem fair to sacrifice these plans, especially considering the circumstances of Lara's academic struggles.

This decision didn't sit well with them. Lara insists she "needs it more" and accuses me of being selfish, pointing out that my own education was fully covered. Her parents echoed this sentiment, arguing that the money would serve Lara better than it does sitting in my account and expressed a desire to avoid student loans for her. While I empathize with the difficulties student loans can present, I feel it's important to note that I diligently worked through my college years, both academically and in planning my finances for the future. It seems unreasonable to expect me to forgo my financial security due to her earlier academic failures.

Am I in the wrong for wanting to keep what I’ve saved for myself? Imagine if this were played out on a reality show — how dramatically opinions would clash in front of cameras! Viewers would likely be split, with some criticizing my decision as selfish and others praising my foresight and financial prudence. The scenario could definitely turn into a heated debate reflecting the differing values on family support versus personal responsibility.

Overall, it's a tricky situation loaded with family expectations and the weighing of financial vs emotional investment...

My wife, Emily, and I tied the knot two years back after dating for five years. She brought her two amazing sons into our marriage and recently, we were overjoyed to welcome our new daughter into the world. When planning for our daughter, Emily made it clear that she wanted to dedicate the first year to exclusive breastfeeding, and stepping away from the workforce to do so, to which I gladly agreed given our stable financial state at the time.

However, things took a drastic turn when my brother illicitly withdrew $25,000 from our joint account, shaking our finances to the core. With only $3,000 left and a rent of $2800, I found myself in a position where I had to ask Emily to reconsider working, despite our initial agreement. Her response was heartbreaking as she exclaimed her disappointment and retreated, locking herself away in despair. Later, she confessed her deep resentment towards the situation, expressing fear that she might have reconsidered having our daughter had she known about the potential change in plans. She strongly felt it was my responsibility to resolve the mess created by my own family member and threatened separation if pushed to work.

It feels like we're stuck in a dire financial situation here, and without her additional support, I'm not sure how to navigate through. This has left our relationship strained to the point where communication has become minimal and filled with sadness.

I can’t help but wonder how this scenario would be received if we were part of a reality show. Would people empathize with the pressure we’re under, or would they judge the emotional outbursts and my desperate request for her to work? The volatile dynamics and intense confrontations might draw sympathy or criticism, turning our personal crisis into a public spectacle evoking strong reactions from viewers.

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to cut off contact with your own parents. it’s not a decision you make lightly, it’s not something you wake up one morning and decide “oh, i’m done with them now,” and it’s definitely not a thing you can explain to people without sounding like the villain. but the truth is, it wasn’t just one big fight, or a betrayal that led me here. it was more like a million little paper cuts that eventually made me bleed out. each conversation, each snide comment, each cold shoulder... they stacked up like bricks around my chest until breathing became a chore. and now, i’m at a point where silence feels safer than words ever did.

there’s this misconception that going no contact is an impulsive act, a dramatic outburst, but let me tell you – it’s calculated, it’s weighed, and it’s born from years of exhaustion. for me, it wasn’t about punishing them; it was about protecting myself. there’s a sort of peace in not waiting for a call that won’t come, in not bracing for the disappointment that hits you when you realize the people who were supposed to love you unconditionally... just didn’t know how. i still remember the last time i tried to explain my feelings to them, how i said, “i just need space,” and they responded with guilt-tripping and accusations like i was betraying the family code. maybe you’ve felt that too, the subtle manipulation, the expectation that no matter what, you’ll bend because “they’re your parents” – but at what cost?

cutting ties isn’t about hate, it’s about survival. sometimes you’ve got to ask yourself, “how much more of myself do i have to lose before i finally put up a boundary?” i used to sit in my room after those long, draining phone calls, wondering if i was being too sensitive, too dramatic, too harsh. but with time, i realized i was just human, and there’s only so much hurt you can endure before you have to step away for your own sanity. and yes, the guilt still gnaws at me, especially on holidays or when i hear from relatives asking why i’ve become so distant. but i remind myself that self-preservation isn’t selfishness; it’s necessary.

so, i sit here now, scrolling through old photos, thinking about what could have been if they had just tried a little harder, listened a little closer, or loved a little better. but i can’t change them, and i can’t keep sacrificing my peace to maintain a relationship that only drains me. i’m learning to accept that some doors are meant to stay closed, that not every story gets a happy ending, and that’s okay. sure, there’s a lingering sadness, an ache for what i wish i had, but there’s also relief in knowing i’ve chosen myself, finally. and maybe that’s the real takeaway here – that sometimes the healthiest love is the one you give yourself, even when it means walking away from those who were supposed to give it to you first.

does it ever get easier? i don’t know. maybe it’s just one of those things you learn to live with, like a scar that reminds you of a wound that’s healed but still aches when it rains. and when people ask me if i’ll ever reconnect, i just shrug and say, “maybe one day,” because who really knows? but for now, i’m okay with the quiet, with the space i’ve carved out for myself, and with the understanding that no contact doesn’t mean no love – it just means love from a distance. and maybe that’s enough; maybe that’s all i can give.

I don’t really have companions because, truthfully, I never tried much to make them. It seems I’ve lived isolated for the most of my life. I do have a family—my parents are around—but beyond that, I’m on my own. As a kid, I was the shy one, and over the years, that shyness turned into a preference for solitude. It’s as if I constructed my own quiet little world and, oddly enough, I don’t seem to crave the company of friends as much as one might think.

However, there's something I crave far more than friendship – and that's affection. I don't harbor any ill will towards people. I’m certainly not a misanthrope. Yet, there’s a longing in me to experience simple human affection, like holding hands with a girl, or perhaps even sharing a gentle kiss. These are the modest desires I pine for, the chance to build an intimate connection from such tender beginnings.

Despite painting myself as somewhat righteous in these matters, I worry that my lack of a social circle might turn off potential romantic interests. Maybe it won't be an outright rejection, but there could be a hint of suspicion, a wariness that might eventually push her away. The thought lingers that this might lead to me spending my final years alone, without ever having known intimacy.

How would this scenario play out if I were thrown into the dramatic world of a reality show? Cameras recording every moment of my solitude, the audience witnessing my awkward attempts at human connection—could the added pressure provoke sympathy or ridicule? Would they see my loneliness as a peculiar quirk or a relatable struggle?

If the public were to step into my shoes through the lens of reality TV, I wonder if it could change their perception. Maybe they would cheer for my small victories or feel the sting of my setbacks. Either scenario is daunting yet strangely alluring.

Trigger warning: Loss and suicidal thoughts.

Being a 29 year old male, I fucked up my life so far.

I had depression and aniexty from my adolescent years that's been with me to this day. My mental issues has stopped me from finishing my college education, dating and working for most of my adult life. At age 19 I dropped out of college and threw away my close friends to become a gaming recluse. My parents worried for my future but I just just wasted my days away, planning to end my life at age 25.

At 20 I started taking care of my grandma who watched me in my younger years. She was the only reason I stayed alive. I was paid by the state to care for her, so I spent the next 9 years of my life caring for her as I became a hermit. I was with her for 5 days of the week; taking her to appointments, bathing, cleaning, and just checking up with her often. She cared for me back by feeding me, hanging out watching movies, talked, and gave me a grandparents' love.

At age 25 I fought the urge to kill myself. I contemplated a long time if I should still carry out my plan. In the end, I decided not to because of my grandmother. Without me, she wouldn't have help to live her own life. Around this time I reconnected with my friends and life seemed better.

At age 26 I needed better Healthcare insurance, so I started working another job. I was prepared to fail, become a social outcast, and be judged for being a depressed mess. I was wrong. I was more capable than I though; I excelled at my tasks and spoke to both colleagues and clients reasonably well. Sure, I had awkward first interactions and conversations.. But it wasn't all the time.

At 27 I got into a car accident that gave me a concussion. I still suffer side effects from this injury to this day. I'm not as mentally fast, more forgetful, and can't intake information nor speech from others well. My life is still spiraling down from this; with some of the aforementioned effects worsening some days.

At 29 my grandma moved away to live with other family; my dad wanted his siblings to do their part as her kids and care for her too. She passed 3 months after moving away. 4 months after she passed I resigned from my job. My work stress, depression, and aniexty was at a all time high. I was unable to sleep, suffered from chest pains/eratic heartbeats from stress, couldn't socialize with others well, and was not getting any work done.

I regret this decision.

Sure, I feel mentally clear now, but having no income and not able to find a job is worsening my mental again. I tried trading futures recentl6 but I only lost money due to my impatience.

Nowadays, I don't want to wake up. I spend my days lazing around in bed as I apply for jobs, attempt trading but to only lose my meager savings, and try to think of reasons to live. My current reasons are for my family and friends.. I can't imagine what they'll go through if I ever commit.

I hope to find a job by January; that's when my funds will be dried up. Until then, I'll try to start back a routine and care for my physical health again. Maybe I'll try running again.

Thank you for reading.. Oh, and if this story was on TV, would you watch it? Do you think the main character will enjoy life again and find a job? I hope he does, I don't want this story to end soon.

I'm a fairly short guy, standing somewhere between 5'4" and 5'5", and currently in my thirties. My buddy Mike towers over me at 6'1". We first crossed paths at a gathering some years ago, and although he's quite the head-turner, Mike is currently working as a waiter at a local café. I, on the other hand, am doing quite well financially, to put it modestly.

Mike has been dating a girl named Emily. Just the other day, we were all chilling at his apartment, along with a few more of his friends. Unlike them, I don't drink alcohol at all and I absolutely detest it, yet everyone else was indulging and getting pretty tipsary. As the evening wore on, they started throwing around what they considered "banter". One remark targeted my height, ridiculing my single status as well.

Out of the blue, Mike remarked, "Honestly man, it's no shock you're still flying solo—you're seriously on the shorter side, and most ladies would take a pass at first glance." Laughter erupted around the room, Emily included.

Caught off guard, I retorted sharply, "Well, at least I'm not scraping by on a minimum-wage paycheck." I shot back further, "By the way, many women wouldn’t exactly see you as husband material in your current job."

That set off a firestorm. Mike was livid, and the rest of them joined the fray. A fiery verbal exchange erupted. Eventually, I told them to bugger off and stormed out.

Had this been captured on a reality show, the reaction might have been explosively mixed. Reality TV thrives on conflict and dramatic confrontations, so it's likely the audience would have been hooked, eagerly taking sides. Viewers might debate whether my response was justified or if I should have kept my cool. Social media would buzz with opinions, some calling me out for my comments about Mike’s job, while others might sympathize with my reaction to the personal digs about my height.

Am I the bad guy here, or what? He started...

brooo my mom keeps hitting me with a cord and I'm so sick of it, shes genuinely insane. When she chases me to hit my I usually run out and hide in the neighborhood, and my mom is psycho that she calls the police on me, what devastated me is that when I told my story to the police they didn't believe me over my mother and asked irrelevant questions about substance abuse and gangs and stuff, and just believed everything my mom twisted even though I said to them that she twists words and lies often. I think its funny bcz later my mom panicked and was all quiet like "idk what to do" then an hour later she completely switched up and saying stuff literally like "I have I right to hit my child!!"

"This little brat can't do shit to me or my job!!"

and thankfully I hid well enough in the closet (behind the long hanging dresses) that she couldn't find me because I was afraid she would beat tf out of me just for being angry again.

The fact that I actually believed the police would do anything is so pathetic

If there's one thing I learned from this whole experience is that police don't give a shit about their duties and will always believe the parent over the child. wanna know why? this happened before too!

The last time I ran out the house from her chasing me and I brought her home key (forgot to mention that when I run out, she locks the door so I cant come back in until the morning)

and she called the police on me for that.

I explained to the police that I took the key so that I wouldn't have to be stuck out there when most days was like 20 degrees and/or windy and cold. and even though I told him all that, they seriously made me give back the house key (there are three, so it's not like she needs all of them), AND give away my hiding spots for the key to my mother.

I fucking hate these people.

I told them the truth but why would they believe me?

I'm just another spoiled kid who has bad behaviors

except I'm not. I have straight a's in dual credit classes and honor classes planning to get associates by high school graduation and my English teacher even said I could be valedictorian if I attended any clubs or extra curriculars, except little do they know, their English special education teacher/coworker is a lot more fucking neglectful and insane than they think and love to say that "she simply doesn't want to go", bitch I asked and you say yes and then switch up last second every single time, I ask every possible chance, it gets so bad when I give some club advisors false answers, and I have to make up some dumb excuse like "My mom said she cant afford the gas". It gets so fucking annoying.

Not only that, but yesterday she literally threw my shoes away. YES, MY SHOES. Because she didn't like that I kept "leaving the house at night" (what she tells the police and everyone else, just straight lie) in reality, I'm literally being chased by you in that moment, when you are screaming with a cord, and sometimes some random object. Sorry, but I'm not staying in the house with a psycho like you that literally BROKE MY NOSE BEFORE?!?!?! fuck nah get me out of this crazy household T-T.

It gets so tiring.

You might be wondering, where's the father? Long story short, my mom kicked him out for being "lazy" (he did all the chores and I'm just now realizing how much he was working for all of us) and divorced him. making up bullcrap and acting all scared as if he's some kind of villain, "he's gonna take our house and leave us on the street" like omg stfu, ur not no victim. And I recently realized that shes been lying and msging that I hate him and want to keep living with my mother. I can't even text my dad and have to rely on my moms texts because my mom took away all my electronics and I don't know my dads email even If I had access to gmail during school. We moved like 40 minutes (driving) away, so even if I knew his address, I couldn't walk for 5-6 hours without getting lost.

OK that's it for this rant, just needed to get this off my chest ;-;

so i wanted to try and portray a character going through SA in one of my stories that will never see the light of day, so i asked people on reddit (bad idea ik) how to handle it and write it well. basically, i was told that i shouldn't write it if ive never experienced it and what gives me the right to 'educate' people about it. i feel really bad, because i that was never my intention and i never meant to trigger or hurt people and yeah. i just feel really guillty.

(also i wasn't sure what category to put it in so i just put workplace drama)

i’ve been asking my boyfriend to watch a specific horror movie with me for a couple years now and he has always declined because he hates horror movies. but for the last few months one of his friends (who is struggling) does movie nights every week with their whole friend group and this week he wanted to do a movie marathon with a horror movie every day of the week for halloween. today they plan on watching the movie i had been asking my bf to watch with me. he did not even hesitate to agree to go (he skipped the movie yesterday but is going today). i sometimes go to movie nights but i cant this week because i work late every night. when i brought up that him unhesitatingly going to this movie with his friends that i’ve been begging him to watch with me was kind of hurtful he said that it’s different because he just wanted to hang out with his friends and check in on his friend who is struggling, and because we live together he’ll just get to spend time with me whenever anyways. he went, he came home, i expressed i was still upset because i told him i would be, and he feels bad but has not apologized or doesn’t think it’s a big deal. i feel like i’m going crazy over this??? am i being dramatic?? in general he is very sweet and loving so i’m thrown for a loop here

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

In my country there are different kinds of curriculum that you study at school, so I studied the full English syllabus. One of my professors got to know about this a few days ago and from that day he started to act weird. He randomly asked me in a mocking tone if I knew about a specific topic ( our syllabus literally covered more than whatever he is teaching ) then at lab he lashed out on me by saying “didn’t you study english curriculum, then why the hell is your english like this”, basically I’m new to the whole lab report thing so I’m still figuring it out by myself as there was no guidance so I mistakenly wrote it in present tense instead of past tense.

He said this in front of the entire class, in front of everyone. Obviously I’m going to give my all and improve but there were many other people who did similar mistakes or got lower marks but he didn’t say anything to them.

I don’t know, like scold me for my mistakes I’ll understand but continuously mocking me/insulting me because I studied a different curriculum is just…….. bad. I am probably overreacting and overthinking about this.

Ever since I was younger, my ears have been... weird. I'll hear someone call my name out of nowhere, and it won't be someone I recognize. In the middle of the quiet, like at night or in the middle of class, my ear will start ringing. It only lasts a second or two but I can definitely hear it. Once I was facing a tough decision, and I had a podcast playing, and I wasn't paying too much attention to it. Then, randomly, as I was agonising over this decision, my ears focused on the podcast at the perfect time, and I got the perfect solution. Once I was down in the woods, just chilling, when a voice whispered in my ear, "Go home." I ignored it, but it came again and the third time it came I went home, and that's when I found out that there had been coyote sightings in the area if the woods I was in.

These memories are, yes, a bit fuzzy because that's the way my memory is, but I clearly remember the voices. The one that told me to go home was definitely female, and I think I actually recognised it: My great grandma, who had died a few years before. That specific voice hasn't come back, but I remember it with such clarity.

When I meditate, sometimes, and it's rare, the ringing will come back in the quiet. I'll hear the voices saying my name. But as soon as I stop meditating, it's back to almost normal, with the occasional ringing and maybe a whisper of my name every now and then.

I'm not a medium, so I don't know if I'm being haunted or what...

nothing helps it doesn't matter how much I talk about it how much I journel how much I distract myself how much I treat myself how much rest I give myself how healthy i eat how much water i drink how much exercise I get how much I surround myself with people I love or how many times I call the hotlines. everyone gives the same advice "take small steps" "healing takes time" "just take a quick break or try a breathing exercise when it feels like too much" a breathing break isn't gonna help me maybe it wouldve three years ago but idk what I have but its not just what's happening around me its something fudemently wrong with me. no matter how good I have it I'll find I way to ruin it or make myself feel bad. it takes so much effort just to make myself function semi properly, to just exist. i cant tell what's wrong with me and at the same time I know. maybe its too many things and I'm just not sure which one, or maybe its none of them. I mean this cant be because of what's happening around me bc only one baddish thing has ever happened and it was basically my fault anyways. I just cant accept the fact people might acc like me and I know everything I'm scared of and hate about myself and do is irrational but it doesnt matter. this isn't somthing I can fix and its harder and harder every day to deal with it. I'm realizing I should've gotten help a long time ago, because now when people tell me to deal with it maybe I used to be Able to but I just cant anymore. every day I'm waiting and waiting every day even good days I'm dealing with it. I cant tell what I'm missing and if my problems are serious or not but if I don't get help that actually helps soon I'm just gonna end it. I'm tired of waiting for something that isn't coming. its never coming.

Around three years ago today, I started questioning my sexuality. Thinking at first I might've just been confused, being that I was 14 at the time. One year passes, and I'm starting to have those thoughts again and realizing I seriously might've been BI. I tested out the waters a little with being able to tell my friends about me maybe being BI, and them actually supporting me. Although over the two years since then I've started to lean towards being gay, and now I'm seriously confused, scared, and worried. I've got no idea what to do, my parents are christens and they had no Idea about me being BI before.