Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I've been strugglately and school is making it even worse

This is really dumb. I played a game before covid and throughout it and it helped me a lot. I’m on ft rn with my boyfriend (who is very supportive and sweet) but is playing a new game which is just like the old one (you probably can guess) and I mentioned it and he basically said it sucked. I said it was a game I loved and he just kinda tore it down which was new. Idk maybe I’m just reading in to much and I’ve been very emotional due to birth control lmao

hey, im tj and i would like to vent.

my life sucks and i feel as if i dont matter.

my sister is constantly rude to me, my mom is busy and doesnt have time to talk and my dad would belittle me if i tell him aboutt my struggles.

the only people keeping me alive are my friends.

I'm at the point in life where I don't really know what I want in my life anymore. I'm still in highschool, a senior to be in fact, I should have had my plan already ready by now but it's not.

I honestly didn't think I made it this far but here I am I guess.

Anyway, yeah. I don't know what I want in life anymore. I want to become a doctor or an engineer yet my family doesn't have enough money for either, plus they would have preferred if I had just focused on preaching. So my dream jobs are clearly out of the way.

I'd be an artist but that doesn't really get you anywhere does it? Especially with the rise of ai 'art' and so many better and more talented artists- it'll be nearly impossible to make a name and a living.

Writer? No. I used to love writting but now I have no passion for it as much as I used to. Plus my writting is mediocre, boring and plaid even.

Maybe a family women? No. I'm not exactly good enough to be a trophy wife or a housewife.

Religion? Well I don't know. I do love God. I really try to but the thing is that religion kinds destroyed my relationship with God. Does that make sense? I love God, I just don't like what some (or most) of his people had done to his name.

Suicide? I don't know. My religion has only ever taught me that death is death. Nothing happens. You don't go to an afterlife, or hell or heaven not you don't get reincarnated. You just go to a deep slumber.

And as much as that sounds good to me, it scares me.

So yes. There doesn't seem to be a path for me anymore. I guess to put it simply; I'm lost. Very very lost.

It isn't helping that graduation is coming up soon, that means my time to make a choice is limited.

To be honest, I really do just want to best for me and others. So I hope to whoever is up there to lead me to it

2021. Everyone's locked up inside. Online classes and texts the only way i could spend any sort of time with my friends. So our social studies teacher decided to give us some homework. A group project. yuck.

I got assigned to a group of ppl i hadn't ever spoken to. Except for this one guy. He was this kid who'd joined our school in 5th grade and we'd spoken a couple of times. So we were talking about the project and soon drifted off to other things. We started texting each other every other day and things were fine. Then our school decided it was time to get kids back in their classrooms.

So after nearly half a year of texting i finally got to talk to him in person. Every now and then I'd look over to see what he was doing and well um. Turns out he was already looking at me. He tried to cover up for the fact that he was staring (and failed miserably) and somehow, it gave me butterflies .

That went on for a few weeks and he asked me if I liked anyone. And me being the idiot i am decided i was too scared to tell him bc i was so sure he didnt like me back and told him i liked his best friend (kmn). But thankfully he wasn't that stupid <3.

So just like that, we started dating. Just to give you a picture, he was tall, really cute, played basket ball and loved math (such a nerd). Our love language was basically staring at each other from across the classroom, and drawing infinities on our wrists (those meant more to me than hearts).

Our school was very conservative so holding hands under the desk was the craziest thing we could do. We never got to hug let alone kiss but holding his hand made me feel like i was flying. With most Indian parents, the only high school romance you could have was with your text books so we had to keep it a secret from them too.

Fast forward to valentine's day. Typical day except before leaving he told me to check my bag. I got home to find a pack of Hershey's kisses.

We used to lend each other books to read and slip letters between the pages. It was really cute :'>.

We were happy. I was thoroughly in love with this guy. It felt too good to be true.

And suddenly something broke. He became cold and distant. We didn't speak as much as we used to. I was worried sick and i didn't know how to help. When we finally sat down to have a talk he said it was family stuff that he couldn't talk to me about just yet, and i felt really guilty for not being understanding about his silence. But it had hurt a lot...

Few weeks later. It's sports day at school. He's talking to who i thought was my best friend ( more on that another time). He said he needed to talk so we went to a corner and he was nearly in tears. He started apologizing frantically. I assumed he was apologizing for not talking to me for so long...but it was something much worse.

He said he needed to breakup with me. NEEDED to.

In that moment, everything inside me went numb. I tried to say something but i choked on my own words. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry but there were too many people around. So i walked away.

I swore i wouldn't let myself cry there because i knew if i started i wouldn't stop. So i smiled and smiled and smiled. But I couldn't just leave like that now, could I?

It took everything in me to go back to him on the stairs. He asked me sit. So i asked him why he needed to break up with me and he said he wasn't able to focus on his studies. I was so naive I took his word for it. Only to find out 3 whole years later that the real reason was that it was too much for him. I'd been overwhelming this guy and hadn't even realized. I still don't know what I'd done to make him feel so pressurized....

Even after the break up I did the stupidest things. I hit a rebound with his friend and lied about it. He found out and of course he couldn't forgive me, I carried that guilt around for a year and a half only to realize that it didn't matter anymore. He was happy now. What more could i ask for? (sorry for making it so cheese but it is what it is...<3)

My partner (17M) and I (17F) began our relationship four months ago and initially, everything seemed perfect. However, recently, I’ve been questioning our dynamic.

He was initially so enthusiastic to spend time with me. Now, whenever I propose catching a meal together, he declines, stating his mom has restricted him from going out. While I understand, it frustrates me when he's out with his pals the very next day enjoying a movie. This pattern has occurred a couple of times. He even became upset when I lightly mentioned his frequent outings without me, and I ended up apologizing.

My birthday is around the corner, and I dread spending it alone as it often brings a wave of loneliness. For his birthday, I went the extra mile which moved him to tears. When I hinted at discussing my birthday plans, he abruptly said I shouldn't involve him because he’s had poor experiences with his own birthdays. I apologized once again for coming off as passive-aggressive, which wasn’t my intent.

I’m beginning to feel like my needs for emotional support aren’t being met. As a student of psychology, it stung when I was ridiculed for expressing how much I value my field of study, eventually apologizing for making it an issue. Moreover, I’ve had disturbing experiences with unwanted physical advances in the past, which makes physical intimacy a sensitive matter for me. Despite this, he pressured me into physical actions I wasn't comfortable with, which I eventually gave in to out of exhaustion.

He continues to ask for suggestive photos even though I’ve expressed my discomfort. I relented a few times but reinforced my boundaries. Regrettably, he doesn’t seem to honor this anymore, though I've stopped sending any pictures now.

Whenever I try to address these issues, it ends up in arguments with him painting me as the antagonist. A recent dispute over this threatened to end our relationship, and once again, I found myself apologizing excessively.

Just imagine if this behavior was showcased in a reality show, the public scrutiny and potentially explosive reactions on social media could be immense! Viewers often have strong opinions about relationship dynamics displayed on reality TV, and this situation might evoke a lot of sympathy for me while potentially generating negative feedback toward him.

What do you think?

i hate my body right now. i don't know if there's any way out besides starving myself. it's the way I was able to lose fat in the past. working out or eating healthy takes too long and too much discipline. i hate hating my body. i want to love my body. i have before. i used to be in love with it, but suddenly I get a little bit bigger on literally JUST MY WAIST AND I HAT E IT> how is that possible. how is it possible that I only grow in one spot. it's making me so upset. it's not fair. nothing else growns. my hips don't grow, my arms don't grow, my legs don't grow JUSt my waist. it's so upsetting. it's so upsetting. it's so upsetting. i just wish I could personify my torso and then hurt it. i don't want to hate any part of myself. i want to love myself as I am .

i've been wondering why tears flow when I'm boiling with anger. it seems counterproductive, right? you’d expect steam, not water, when someone’s fuming. emotions like anger and sadness seem poles apart, yet they intertwine in the strangest way. is it the autonomic nervous system playing tricks, or a spillover from some emotional reservoir? ever screamed into a pillow and ended up sobbing?

think about cortisol—the stress hormone. when you’re angry, cortisol levels spike, and adrenaline kicks in. your heart races and your muscles tense. but then the tears come, almost as if your body’s betraying you. perhaps it’s a mechanism to signal distress. some experts suggest crying during anger can be a "safety valve" to prevent an emotional explosion. makes sense, doesn’t it? but why must it involve the humiliation of public tears?

i remember a situation at work, where a colleague's dismissiveness lit the fuse of my temper. suddenly, tears welled up against my will, in front of everyone! i felt mortified. one might argue it's part of "emotional intelligence," our body’s way of soliciting support by displaying vulnerability. yet, in that boardroom, did i really want vulnerability over asserting my point? and what about you? have you been caught in a swirl of emotions, with your tear ducts betraying your steely exterior?

there's a notion that crying serves as a cathartic release, purging pent-up emotions. it’s akin to rebooting a system overloaded by a whirlwind of feelings. so maybe, just maybe, those tears during a fury aren't enemies but allies pushing towards equilibrium. despite this understanding, it still feels like a betrayal in moments needing strength over softness. would it be different if society viewed emotional tears as strength rather than weakness? maybe the real question is not just why we cry when mad, but how do we learn to accept it?

I feel like shit. I just took my first exam of this semester and I don't feel like I did well. For some background I am currently in the highest level accounting course in my school and opted to take a 7 week course while also working full time. The class started 10 days ago and I ended up getting a 76% on this exam. I am beating myself up and berating myself because I feel like I should have done better and I want some chocolate or something to bring my mood up but I feel like I can't let myself try to feel better because I'm subconsciously telling myself that it's okay to get Cs on exams. And I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself. I work 40 hours a week and accounting courses can be hard and 10 days isn't a lot of time to learn a bunch of material. But this isn't a STEM major (I'm an accounting major) and I didn't use my time well. I should have reviewed more of the material and gone over the reading more before taking the exam. I just can't justify letting myself be comforted about my performance on this exam. I don't know what to do. I can't just give up, this is my last accounting course. How do I move past this feeling?

So over the last couple of months me and an ex friend have had a falling out, we were friends for a couple of years in work and we fell out over something very silly and small and not worth falling out over but my ex friend made it in to the biggest thing and since then she has made my life miserable in work. Yesterday I tried to hold out a lifeline and make up to her because yesterday was the last straw and I decided to tell her that the way she talked to me wasn't on. Well she has blamed me over the friendship breaking down, that she has covered for me over things that I don't even know that I have done wrong, that I have argued with her even though she has argued back and the thing I 'argued' over was something that I wasn't going to agree with her anyway cause I like to keep my routine as it is. And other things that she has put it on me. Don't get me wrong I know I am not perfect and I do things that annoy others but to me they aren't things to fall out over. And she has done a lot of things as well so it's definitely not all one way. But basically she doesn't want to be my friend anymore and today she literally couldn't be in the same area as me not matter the same room.

My university buddy recently got hitched, and I was supposed to stand by her side as a bridesmaid. We last met at her engagement celebration about a year ago. Regrettably, since then, she's been a pretty terrible companion, fully engrossed in her wedding plans and consistently neglecting our friendship. Even though initially we chatted about her wedding, she soon started ignoring my messages. Whenever I tried opening up about my own struggles, she responded cruelly and was overwhelmingly obsessed with her role as the bride. As a result of her behavior and me facing ongoing health issues, I grew distant and decided against maintaining the friendship after the wedding festivities concluded.

When our interactions resumed, it was purely for bridesmaid duties. Still dealing with health troubles, I hadn't yet bought my dress due to potential changes in my weight from new medications. Her reply was blunt, stressing the necessity to have it altered by June. Close to the wedding date, she suddenly demanded $200 for hair and makeup costs—expenses she hadn't previously discussed nor sought agreement on from any of us bridesmaids.

Feeling cornered and reconsidering the strained relationship, I decided against attending the wedding, blaming it on my health complications. She reacted selfishly, making the issue about herself and showing no concern for my well-being. Later, she demanded I pay the $200 for the services she booked without my consent. After a heated exchange, I agreed to settle the amount, even including an extra $150 for the venue costs she mentioned, hoping to end all communication thereafter.

Following five weeks of silence, she messaged me to inquire about my health. But soon, her tone shifted to expressing how hurt she was that I hadn't reached out during or after her wedding. I was stunned by her audacity. My grandmother advised ignoring her message, aligning with my intention to dissolve the friendship altogether.

Imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show, the dramatic tension would be palpable! With cameras rolling, viewers would likely be split—some sympathizing with my health struggles and recognizing the bride's self-centered nature, while others might view my withdrawal from the wedding as a betrayal, sparking controversy and debates across social media platforms.

Am I wrong for wanting to end this friendship?

I never thought I’d be the woman who got divorced in her fifties. When we got married, I truly believed it was forever. We built a life together, raised kids, went through struggles, celebrated milestones. But somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t happy anymore—not in the way that could be fixed by a weekend away or a new routine. It was the kind of unhappiness that settled deep into my bones, the kind that made me feel like I was disappearing inside my own life. I stayed for years, telling myself it was just a rough patch, that love looks different after decades together, that comfort is its own kind of happiness. But the truth is, comfort became suffocation. And when I finally gathered the strength to say it out loud—to say I can’t do this anymore—his reaction was exactly what I feared. He didn’t yell, he didn’t fight, but he refused to accept it. As if, by sheer will alone, he could undo what I had already decided. And now, months later, after papers have been signed and our lives have been legally separated, he still looks at me with this quiet disbelief, as if I’ll wake up one day and say, You were right, let’s go back to the way things were. But I won’t.

Every conversation we have now ends the same way, with him saying "I don’t understand how you could do this," and me responding with the only truth I have left to give: "I’m sorry you feel that way." I say it because I don’t have the energy to fight anymore, because I know nothing I say will make him understand, and because, in some ways, it’s easier than admitting I don’t care if he understands or not. I didn’t leave to hurt him, but I also didn’t leave to spend the rest of my life apologizing for saving myself. And that’s what I did—I saved myself. From a life that felt stagnant, from a marriage that felt more like an obligation than a choice. It’s not that I don’t feel anything for him anymore. I do. I will probably always love him in some way, but love and happiness are not the same thing. And I chose happiness. That choice was mine to make, even if he never forgives me for it. So now, whenever he tries to guilt me, to make me second-guess, to make me feel responsible for his sadness, I take a deep breath and remind myself: I gave him years. I gave him chances. I gave him everything I had to give. And now, I choose me. I’m sorry he feels the way he does, but I am not sorry for leaving.

At 25 years old, and working as a waitress in a fairly upscale restaurant in the city, I've had my share of peculiar experiences, but nothing quite as jarring as my encounter last night. A young couple was seated in my area, and from the get-go, the atmosphere felt uneasy. The woman shot me sharp glares, while her companion was more focused on my appearance, giving me uncomfortable smiles.

While taking their drink orders, the man engaged flirtatiously, inquiring about my favorite drinks and complimenting my taste. His girlfriend, however, seemed dismissive and rudely snapped her order at me. Things escalated when I returned with their drinks; the man made inappropriate contact by brushing his hand against my thigh under the guise of an accident. As I reacted in shock, the woman accused me of behaving provocatively.

I was appalled and told them sternly they needed to settle their bill for the drinks and leave. I firmly believe that the mantra "the customer is always right" has its limits, especially when respect is compromised. My manager, on hearing the commotion came over. I explained the situation, only for the couple to claim they were merely acting out a jealousy role-play they thought I would be complicit in – which was bewildering and unacceptable.

Expecting support from my manager, I was instead taken aside and told it was a 'misunderstanding' and not to cause a scene. Feeling undervalued and harassed, I realized my manager was reluctant to take action, a pattern I had noticed before. Driven by frustration, I left the premises and even decided not to show up the following night.

This morning, my manager expressed his disappointment over a text, critiquing my leaving the team understaffed and failing to close my section properly. While some co-workers are sympathetic, others, shockingly, think I should be flattered by such attention, conflating harassment with desirability.

Had this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show, I wonder how it would have been perceived by the public. Reality shows often amplify personal interactions for dramatic effect, so perhaps my confrontation might have been edited to either vilify or vindicate me depending on the storyline they wished to push. It’s curious how different the public reaction might be under those circumstances, with some viewers possibly siding with the couple or the manager, while others might support my stance on harassment and professionalism.

Am I wrong in my reaction to this situation?

I'm a sophomore in high school, and I'd consider myself an artist. I have endless ideas for all sorts of things to draw, paint, sculpt, sew, build, you name it. I admit I'm better at drawing and all that than a good amount of people since I've always been interested in art and have been improving my skills and learning for my whole life. Although, I can't feel good about any of my work. I always criticize myself and compare myself to other people and I can't stop. It started around 7th or 8th grade, when things were first starting to get rough for me as I grew older and realized things my parents hid from me and I never thought about before. My ideas got more complex and I started pressuring myself to do better. People around me are good at drawing, and I hate it. I can't stand people being better than me at the only thing I'm relatively good at. I have anger issues and I get mad quickly and say and do things to my friends out of spite for them being better than me and I later regret it deeply because I love them and I'd never want to hurt them. It drives me absolutely crazy. No matter how much people say they love my drawings or how talented I am I just can't accept it. I even tried prioritizing my art over school work, last and this year I draw in my notebooks almost every class period for the entire duration. My grades are bad and I have to leave my current school because of it, which is driving the stake deeper. Whenever I have an idea and try to act on it through my art, it always turns out horrible and far from what I wanted. I can't do anything right. People say I'm talented but it's not talent, I wasn't born good at anything, I've just been drawing for so long I happen to be better than some others. Currently I feel as if I haven't improved in years. I try all the tactics and tips I see online but nothing sticks, nothing helps. I wanna quit but I can't. Drawing is my thing, I'm supposed to be good at it. I'm horrible at the one thing I'm supposed to be good at and it's tearing me apart. I'm not smart, I don't play sports or instruments, this is all I have. I can't improve and I can't do anything. I've stepped away and came back to projects but I end up hating them all over again. Everything has to be perfect, everything has to be the best, but it's not.

The coworkers I work with in this outpatient lab grind on my nerves. maybe it's a me thing but they complain about literally every. single. thing. they complain about the fact that I get one day off every week (I work 4 10s they work 5 8s) completely ignoring the fact that we both work the same number of hours each week. They get annoyed the I use my vacation time. (fun fact that's part of my benefits. why would I not use the benefits I have) they get annoyed that sometimes when they come back from lunch there are 3 people in the lobby but ignore the fact that when they leave for lunch they will leave 8-10 patients in the lobby. And I'm pretty sure that if i was to register the patients in the lobby and put them under them to be drawn they would be annoyed they have to draw blood after coming back from lunch. But hey when they leave for the day that's okay if they leave with a lobby full of patients because god forbid they stay one minute past their scheduled shift . They feel like they are above the standards that they hold everyone else to like hypocrites.