Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I recently had an uncomfortable experience at a local bank in California, where I currently live, although I'm originally from a Latin American country. I use my foreign passport as ID since I don't have a local driver's license yet. Today, needing a cashier’s check for $3,200 for an apartment, I forgot my passport at home and tried to use my foreign ID card, which the bank teller rejected.

After retrieving my passport, I returned to the bank and dealt with a different teller, a man this time, who oddly started flipping through my passport pages after I handed it to him opened to the photo page while I was entering my PIN. He then began questioning me about having an ID and my time in the US, which felt like an interrogation and made me quite uncomfortable.

Reflecting on his behavior and the whole ordeal just frustrates me further. If this scenario unfolded on a reality show, imagine the drama and the attention it would receive! Viewers would probably be on edge, commenting on how such behavior is unacceptable, possibly rallying for my cause or sympathizing with the headache of unnecessary scrutiny.

It's bizarre and upsetting to think that someone in customer service could make you feel like you're at an immigration interview out of nowhere. My cousins think he might have been checking for a visa or something in my passport. It's just very off-putting and uncalled for. Do you think I'd be too sensitive if I made a formal complaint? Despite working in customer service myself and rarely complaining, this situation felt over the line for me.

If this happened on a reality show, I wonder how the viewer's reactions might sway. Would they see it as undue harassment or just a normal procedure? It certainly would have made for an intense, controversial moment.

Imagine actually being really sick, and your mom doesn't believe you, always undermines it, and forces you to do things and you can't say no because you can't seem to say it, and you give up on seeking any sort of comfort from your family but then it starts to break you and the mask you always have on starts to crack so you start to get moody and isolate yourself in your room and then hope is reignited in your heart that maybe just maybe your family could notice and strive to atleast try to understand whats happening but then that hope is extinguished after all they do is get annoyed and threaten you to take the one thing that helps you handle life, your source of reading away, if you don't start "sitting with them," "smiling," "only sit in your room if you're sleeping," and "laughing and returning to normal." So you mend the mask and put it back on again. And then you really feel like you're all alone and you hate that feeling. Then the mask that you put in school also cracks, but you don't have any more hope so you don't even try to mend it. You leave it as it is and just try to survive. Because you don't have the strength to do it anymore. But miraculously, some people start asking if you're okay. But you're already too numb and don't want to believe that someone may actually want to understand again, and you don't wanna burden anyone with your problems so you don't tell any of your friends. And the people that keep asking if there's a problem you tell them just the surface. Just so they can know and stop asking questions because every time someone does, it crushes your already broken heart a little. And every time you tell someone the surface level, you are met with two things, either indifference or pity. And you don't need any of those. You don't need anything at all right now. Well, you used to need someone to just listen in the past, but that need is broken by how your attempts ended. So you start hiding behind your mask at home. And just ignoring what people think and what's happening in school. And then teachers start to notice. And they like the idiots thay are. They basically announce it to the whole class multiple times. And now all your classmates are looking at you with pity or indifference. And you hate that. Because you don't need their pity. But even though you don't care, it doesn't mean that you want the whole class to know. So you brush it off every time and ignore all the stares and questions. And now you hate going to school when you're lying in your bed sleeping, and you hate going home when you're in school, and you don't have to put that stupid mask back on. You start escaping to the nady next to your house, taking the guise that you're going to the gym. But actually, you just want to spend time alone without anyone bothering you or asking questions. You just want to just stare at the ceiling and think about your life or read and escape from your life. But then when you're there, time flies by, and you don't realise each time. And you start spending hours there. And your parents are starting to get suspicious. And you really don't want them to know because you don't know where else you can go. And you worry about how your future is gonna be like. And how your parents will react when they see your grades when they see the missings when they see that you did close to none of the hws or projects or anything this quarter. All of this because you can't seem to concentrate enough to do these tasks no matter how simple as just turning something in. All because of how you feel. And then you consider wearing the mask back on at school also. To return when it was easy for the people around you. Because clearly no one cares enough to listen and understand and even if they do, you can't bring yourself to tell them anything. Huh, maybe you even developed trust issues now. You try to do that today. You try to put the maks back on. To hide behind it again. But it's too shattered. And your true self is already close to shattering as well. And now you feel pathetic, and you feel like life has no meaning now. You miss how it was before all that. Before the pain. Before the running. Before the isolating. Before everything. And you wish will all that remains of you that you can go back to how it was. And then you see a message saying "imagine lying to your mom abt being sick," and you sit and think you wish something like that happens again. You wish you could return to the time when you told your mom you were sick just so you don't go to school and she believes you. Maybe that's payback to all the lying. Like the boy who cried wolf. You lied about being sick too many times, and now when you are sick and you feel like you're being shredded to pieces each second of each day, no one believes you anymore. And then you try to make a joke by replying to the message. But then your fingers don't stop, and you keep writing and writing until you don't know even how you gut there and don't know whether you should press send. You think you shouldn't. That's the logical part of you. But the remains of your heart, the thing you once thought destroyed, stop you whispers in your ears saying "maybe just maybe," but then you fight it back, saying it's already too late. What can they possibly do. Your shattered heart argues back by saying that you won't lose anything if you just tried. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. But you argue back by saying that they'll think you're overreacting they'll think you're pathetic, and they'll think that you're just looking for attention. And you look back at the message and laugh to yourself. You really want to cry, but you don't even remember how. You see that the message you wrote is corny and stupid. You think that you should just delete it and never think about it again. Use it to reconstruct the mask again. Hide your shattered pieces behind it. You remember the times you almost did it. You almost got freed. But you got scared. You got scared about what would happen after. And now all you wish for is that killing yourself wouldn't get you to hell.

Recently, my best pal and I embarked on an adventure to the UK. Holding a UK passport due to my British father, I faced no issues with entry, unlike my friend who required a visa. Our travel plan included a layover in France, followed by a connecting flight to the UK.

Unfortunately, our onward journey hit a snag when the connecting flight got canceled. The next available flying option was scheduled for 2 PM the following day, resulting in an unexpected 17-hour wait. While the airline arranged complimentary hotel accommodations for stranded passengers, this privilege was not extended to my friend. Her visa restrictions meant she couldn't leave the airport and had to stay in a designated area brightly lit round the clock, accompanied by the constant din of nearby construction work. Seating was scarce, forcing her to resort to sleeping on the floor. To top it off, a mishap earlier had rendered our phone chargers useless after a water spill, and her phone battery was dwindling at 40%.

Faced with a choice, I opted to take advantage of the hotel stay, leaving my friend at the airport. This decision of mine didn't sit well with her; she accused me of abandoning her in her time of need. She expressed her fear and discomfort about staying alone in an unfamiliar and intimidating environment, and how much she had hoped for my company to ease her anxiety. Despite her protests and calling me self-centered, I justified my action by my exhaustion, having not slept for over a day. I felt staying together in discomfort was unnecessary when I had an alternative. However, this led her to question our friendship altogether.

Imagine this scenario like being on a reality show. The cameras capturing every moment of emotional upheaval and the public judging each decision. Viewers would likely be split; some might sympathize with my need for rest in the comfort of a hotel, while others might criticize me for not showing solidarity with my friend in a tough situation.

If this story was pitched in a reality setting, I wonder, would the audience have been more forgiving, or harsher in their judgment on me abandoning a friend in distress?

I wonder if people might think I did the right thing by choosing to rest in a hotel?

What's a good advice when it comes to work?

Plz 8gnore typos

Dumping my feelings here so I do t tell someone I know smth I'll regret

R

I feel so tired and stil like idk I feel like absolute shit each day, my mind feels foggy and I think I have adhd but I can't get it diagnosed and it's wrecking my school life. I love been friend with one girl for like a year and a half and we were so close but she horridly impacted my health mentally or maybe I was always gonna be like this. I feel like in not actually close to any of my friend and I'm not very well liked. My friendships keep falling apart on my end and I feel like shit. Every friendship I enter in already thinking Aby when it's gonna end bc I've lost almost all my friendships

I'm constantly stressed abt my money for no reason and I feel bitter when I see my friend being able to spend money without feeling crippling guilt and even eating feels like a waste I don't wanna be a burden to .y family especially my mom and I think I can be a bad sister or daughter By grades keep slipping and I can pull myself together to fix it

I to8ght I was getting g better but I've started slipping again and I've been considering cat scratches ifykyk and I dunno why I'm doing g this anymore I wanna be in phycaitry bit I'm not smart enough to get into mrd school. Other than that people keep asking me to decide what I wanna do jn the future but I'm a ducking kid and I don't god damm know what I wanna do if the future Some of my friends ds (the 1year frie d) vents to me about her issues but I can't help but think that she's kinda got it goof and why can she vent but u can't without changing how people see me? I wanna help her but it took so much out of me. I care about her vut I find myself hating g her sometime I I hate myself for it and lots other sikt that I can't write anymore

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.

I feel a lot of affection toward one of the doctors who treated me. In fact, I feel a sense of care that neither my father nor my mother had ever given me. I feel affectionate, loving, and for the first time, I don't feel like speaking ill of parental figures as I always have, and that makes me happy. I confess that I never liked speaking ill of my parents because I felt it was denigrating my past, my person, that part of me that was made up of them, but I couldn't help it.

In fact, I confess, I'm sorry to be writing about them like this because I feel it's distancing me from them, and I don't want to do that. I don't want to distance myself from other parental figures again; I'm not interested in doing that. I feel like I want to be with them, not cause them any inconvenience, no fights, just follow them blindly. Yes, that's exactly it.

I feel like I've put all my critical tools to work distancing myself from my parents, which was my greatest wish. I didn't want that to happen again. In fact, that's why I feel like these doctors are like paternal figures, and I feel like they've adapted me in some way. It fulfills me in part because I feel like they're replacing my parents, but I can't help it.

How can I not give them credit for being paternal figures if they've earned it? Even with their example. They're inclusive of me. I even feel like I'm part of the family, where I'm taken into account, where I'm a priority, where I'm taken seriously and with care. I feel like this made me feel completely cut off from the family. My parents were always willing to make me feel marginalized, but these doctors, on the other hand, make me feel like I'm part of something, that there's a system that loves me, that appreciates me, that wants me alive. With my parents, I felt like that was impossible because I was born among them, which didn't seem fair at all.

I never felt like part of the family. They never allowed me to. No matter how hard I tried to get inside, they kept me defensive about my parents. I simply had to keep quiet because it was them, as if they were the perpetrators of a massacre to which I was condemned without any salvation. Even with my family, they closed the door on me and left me in a dead end. I can't ask the doctors to play my parents, however, I see an interest in them in making me their son, given that, for some reason, I see that they have lacked that possibility, mainly due to their spirit of justice, commitment, and friendliness, which precisely constitutes a burden that is very difficult to compensate.

In fact, with another of the doctors, I feel a relationship, also familiar, in terms of a courtship, but it goes beyond that; it's even familial. The group of doctors who treated me feel like a kind of family that somehow adapted me, that opened their doors to me. I don't understand why. It's as if, despite the treatment having been completed, they had adapted me given the conditions I expressed regarding my parents, as if they weren't acting as caregivers, as if their job served as an excuse to fulfill that position from the perspective they can offer. Their pain over my situation, even though they didn't express it, was harsh, and this time, unlike what they could do with their friends or with someone other than the patient, they couldn't distance themselves from it, given that their duty was to care for me, and it remains that way. It's as if the grieving process they had to endure regarding me in order to transition to other patients had never ended.

It's strange. So, I have a new family, but the question is: How is this? Why did it happen to me? Why did I have to transition to a new family? This happened without anyone's permission; no one wanted this to happen. We're all giving in to our impulses just like that. We all turned our backs on the issue because there was no excuse to escape, but this time it's not possible. How could this have happened to me? Isn't it easier to walk around without family? I don't even see these doctors; they're distant. I vaguely know them, because of life's circumstances, on the same level of appreciation with which I view my parents. Why is it that I value them as family? I feel that the same distance I maintain with my family, I maintain with them. In fact, this doctor, who I didn't specify as my father but rather as my sister, was so distant, uncommunicative, she was my sister. What surprises me is that I experience this simple pattern of interaction as a substitute and satisfying family. I mean, I can't believe my family is so easy to replace. In fact, beyond them, I don't know anything, a question I experience with my blood family itself.

Is it that in my family, we are so empty? The doctors have given me vague interaction. Exactly what I've felt with my parents regarding working together. Is there so little in my family that unites us? The family relationship between us has been practical Especially that of us being in a work environment where my sister and I are the clients. How could this union have happened just like that? I can't believe my family is so simple and vague. I can't believe it. I can't believe I can replace it so easily. In fact, I feel more confident with these vague details.

I can't believe what I'm experiencing. And just like that, this emerged out of nowhere, just like that. With barely any planning. Furthermore, with selected personnel, I'm talking about doctors, for their work skills. What the heck was my family back then? I swore we were much more complex. Not one you could easily get anywhere. It makes me feel like my family, what we had between us, was just anything. Frankly, I can't believe it.

I feel like there was really nothing between my family and me. Not even with my sister and my parents, just a sad pity that camouflaged it. I never thought I'd discover this. Furthermore, the same frequency with which I see my parents is the same frequency with which I see the doctors I consider my parents. In fact, I trust the female one more, and she's the one who is open and concrete, a bit of a leader, just like my mother, and the male one is rude, drastic, but with a certain measure of restraint, and also authoritarian at times. I can't believe, I insist, that the same core group has formed as when I was at home, which for me was unstable and unstable, just as I experienced at the place where these doctors treated me. Furthermore, with the doctor I feel like my sister, equally distant, eccentric, lonely, and forced to do what she was doing to survive. I can't believe, I insist, that I've encountered the same core group of people.

What is my family then? A group of random people? What the heck did we have at home? Parents who propped up the situation as best they could, trying to get by without any success beyond support, and a sister who did whatever it took to look good with them and everyone else, while I was simply at the mercy of observation and finger-pointing. I insist, I can't believe the same modus operandi developed that existed at home; having, in other words, an emotional and rebellious inclination between my sister and me toward the world. I insist: What the hell did we have at home? Why did we have this at home? How could we have had such a simple, vague, and dysfunctional way of living together? Dysfunctional given that there was no review of the family's destiny despite the elements against it. What did we have at home? Simply, everyone pulling for themselves. The doctor I consider a father was distant from the case and didn't express it, like my mother. What did we have at home? It was everyone for themselves, after all, a sad attempt for each of us to survive. How could we have been so simple-minded? In this family, as a nucleus, there was no depth whatsoever. My parents, besides wanting to look good to those in authority, as always, and being clever at making one look bad, and acting as an inclusion.

You know, today has genuinely felt unreal. From waking up in the morning scrolling constantly without a signle muscle to pull me out until 10, to searching for job applications in hopes of eating away at my time in other ways, I felt like I have been aimlessly floating in this world without a single care. I currently have a girlfriend, and think about what could've been with my ex no mattter how much time passes. I feel like i'm going crazy, and I feel so dead. I don't know where to aim myself, and constantly strive to look for ways to become a better person, but the same feeling still exists deep inside of me. I also want to share that, me and my ex talked for months, and I felt like the way things ended were so quick that I was unable to gain closure, and no matter what I do, every girl for the rest of my life will be a rebound. does anyone know ways of being constantly productive. I want to live a life I can look back on, and smile at.

Things at work are getting down and dirty. My boss and his secretary have become monsters, constantly attacking the company's top authority. It's happened once already, and it will happen again. They have no regard for others; they're only there for their own selfish interests, preying on everyone in the company. My boss's job involves organizing things, but he's taken advantage of it to go too far with me, completely violating my privacy, something I've had to protect myself from.

It's regrettable, but I used to consider that man my friend. However, for him, being a friend meant being there for me through thick and thin, even though we should be equals in the thick of things. Such behavior, total control. I feel completely at ease attending events with them soon. I would prefer a different situation, not out of fear, but because I don't feel they are worthy as people. In principle, there is no value placed on the homeland, only simple and blatant destruction, all at the expense of appearances and not evidence. This leads to the abuse of the limits of shame, and we know that these limits are often insufficient to establish the facts with certainty. Even when they are established, the limit is what prevails, for no other reason than to prevent future problems.

I believe it is necessary to tell these stories again and again, with no other aim than to encourage reflection on the limits within which we are embedded, the culture itself, and which define our mobility within our environment. Many people don't understand these limits and simply adopt passivity as a pause, when calmness regarding something is a state that is constructed and stems precisely from the distance from it. And all distance from something is constructed; when it comes to experience, it is not given. This isn't about geometric distance, which I think we confuse with other concepts, just as we do with many things related to emotions, where we confuse clusters with binary functions of the biological system that allows us to exist in the universe.

I'd like to be able to discuss these things with someone, but even I have to admit that they have limits to what they can tolerate. In principle, my approach is based on engaging with what I gain from experience, and of course, the way I access it is particular, according to the experience that connects me to that achievement, which is the reflection within it—those lines that allow me to see other perspectives starting from principles through which I viewed another. It's also necessary, I believe, to define these notions, which I think I'm achieving. It's essential, by any means necessary, to begin being critical of everything we use, precisely to use it judiciously and, moreover, to establish additions. It's about establishing more actions for life.

I've undoubtedly strayed from the topic I started with, but indeed, I'm discovering a way to access these achievements, these reflections. I feel proud, but what saddens me is not having anyone to share this journey with. Through these networks, I manage to share certain situations, but I don't start from a pre-existing premise, but rather from how I react to what I'm about to write. All my writing stems from this; it's about reacting to the ease of publishing online, in terms of the future it guarantees me, which is its publication. I would like, I must say, for the young woman with whom I've now found peace, thanks to this experience, to be here by my side so I could talk to her about these things, but it would be an inconvenience because she doesn't do these things. It would be bringing her into a conversation where she'd be completely out of touch.

It pains me to say it, but we're better off this way, through these chance encounters and the few words we can exchange. Although we share principles, she's more limited in the more developed aspects of mine, and more developed in the less developed ones. There's little we can do, and doing more would only hinder the relationship. And let's face it, the stage we're at right now is quite limited, precisely because of this lack of response. It's better to focus on what we can do effectively.

It's worth mentioning that, indeed, we have unique moments, just like in other relationships where I have the same limited scope. These moments are truly extraordinary. Of course, what we have in common is our shared principles, which allows for conversations and other activities that stimulate our growth. I feel the need to understand how we function, because indeed these relationships are not usual, but indeed, the issue still works and to say that they are not relationships, that they are nothing, is nothing more than failing to give a vision to that which moves my life, because indeed I take conditions into account.

I feel comfortable after all. After my boss's downfall, I feel I'm doing well, which also involved his secretary. I'm not comfortable with having to see their faces, because I believe that people like that, with that kind of attitude, will end up wreaking havoc on the company, not through me, but through others. For management, this duo represents a factor of instability, and even more so now, because they've been like this for a long time.

It's a shame that digital platforms for venting are so closed these days, to the point of not even being clear about their rules. Just yesterday, I finished venting and the platform limited me to writing until after a certain time. As I understand it, I wrote too much, of course, perhaps because I sent many messages in a short period of time and it ended up being marked as spam by the system. I didn't understand it until now.

I don't feel capable of going any further with these friendships; the way we are, the way we guide each other in safeguarding our interactions within a culture that prioritizes egalitarianism as the basis for social relations, is more than enough. I fear that these people don't enjoy the same lifestyle as me, where they spend their time writing and, consequently, developing a wide range of responses. Their responses are based essentially on gestures, on essences where there is no dialogue, in effect, a product of the lack of a constant exercise in constructing language. They are situated in a specific environment, and I can't expect to make drastic changes. In principle, there would be resistance, given that it would confront what their absence from that environment would imply. It is an exercise in empathy, undoubtedly, defined as the contemplation of the conditions in which the other is in relation to a certain situation and which makes their modus operandi decisive: Hence we say that this exercise results in an act of caution, why not say it, by inertia.

I’m so so frustrated, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I had this childhood best friend ( friends since age 3 ) who I dearly loved but as days went by she kept getting so toxic. For example she started hiding stuff from me while she told those same things to our other friends ( we are in the same friend group ). She went abroad for university while I stayed back and I was at peace for a while but recently I kept seeing that she becomes online whenever I am online. On my birthday she randomly posted a story where she posted pictures of our other friends and wrote “ Family “ . I mean obviously she can put pictures of our friends but why on my birthday????. Am I overthinking this?

What’s worse is that I keep dreaming about her, that we are normal, that she apologized, that we talk about what went wrong and it’s messing with my head. I know it was toxic and I know we are better off like this but I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I miss her so much?

I keep thinking that it’s my fault that everything turned out like this.

I know it's bad to compare myself but sometimes I can't help it, it's not online people much as I stray away; instead, it's my own sister, her hair is amazing, getting compliments, called a diva by a gay guy, that one hurt, knowing I'm apart of that community, it was so embarrassing that it's hard for me to call myself a trans gay man knowing I'm just a loser, she many online friends as we're both homeschool, friends with anyone, and talks to the family, longer eyelashes. She's on her phone, probably texting her friends all the time. I have two normal sisters and then there's me, it's like everybody can see that I'm the weird one for my hobbies and how I look. I don't like being cynical so I've been working on that but now I just feel bad, comparing myself.

It's hard, investing in my looks by buying skincare, wigs, clothes, and even trying makeup even tho I'm shit at it, I'll never be as cute as those girls or boys online in my own eyes. I see people I relate to online, mainly girls but they're also pretty, I just wish I was at least pretty even tho I'm depressed and mentally ill.

My suicidal thoughts come randomly, "omg I'm 18 rn but I'll be 30 in 12 years and my life has amount to nothing! I should die rn." "Omg my sister is better than me and everyone can tell, she doesn't talk to me as much anymore, maybe I'm better off dead." "Omg my life is terrible and will stay that way, need to die before it gets worse."

My cousins, even the adults ones and their partners and my sis all have a group chat without me, it's like even my family thinks I'm weird or something. I just don't talk much so they probably assume I hate them or something.

That being said... should I try and make friends again? Even e-date around?

I feel like there are a mixture of ai responses and human responses on here, don't tell me to join a support group, I've been looking and trying. There's not many free ones and I have to keep waiting for the right day of the week to even join. Cant even get a therapist becuz I don't even have a doctor becuz my mom wants me to wait and do it with her. It's annoying. I feel like I'm in "learned helplessness", am I?

Anything is appreciated.

My wife, Jessica, 38, and I, Michael, 40, have been happily married for over a decade now, sharing life and raising our three children aged 9, 7, and 4. Jessica has devoted her life to being a stay-at-home mom since the birth of our first child, while I've continued in a full-time job that thankfully covers our family’s needs comfortably. We're cautious with our finances, avoiding living beyond our means which means skipping on luxuries like annual vacations or high-end brands, and utilizing hand-me-downs whenever possible.

This summer has been particularly taxing on Jessica with all the children at home. Typically, she manages quite well when it's just our youngest during the school term. To alleviate her stress, I’ve recently tweaked my work hours to be more present at home, engaging the kids in various outdoor activities like biking and fishing, which they absolutely love. Meanwhile, Jessica carves out time for her craftwork, which she is very passionate about and has dedicated a whole room in our home for this purpose. She occasionally sells her creations or gets commissioned by friends, family, or online acquaintances.

However, I've noticed that her expenditures on craft supplies seem to outweigh her earnings from the sales. This issue came to a head last week when work demands prevented me from being as available at home as I usually am. Jessica expressed her frustration, suggesting I needed to contribute more at home because her craft projects were supposedly offset. She argued that her crafting was practically a part-time job financially contributing to our household.

Skeptical, I asked her to quantify her recent sales which I compared against our latest credit card statement displaying her expenses on crafting materials. The numbers clearly showed a deficit, with spending far exceeding the income from her sales. Jessica justified this by stating the materials purchased weren't solely for sold items but also for future projects.

In response, I gently reminded her that her crafting, though valuable for her well-being and enjoyable, wasn't justifying as a financial contributor to our expenses but was rather a personal hobby. I pointed out that while I support and cherish her artistic pursuits, using that as a leverage to claim I wasn’t doing enough wasn't fair, especially seeing as I had increased my childcare participation significantly.

This led to an argument where she accused me of undermining her efforts in our family, to which I responded that she had overlooked my contributions first, although mine ensured our financial stability. She remains upset, feeling I should further increase my support at home.

Imagine if this family dilemma were to unfold on a reality TV show. Cameras capturing every heated debate and tender reconciliation could sway public opinion dramatically. Viewers might side with Jessica, empathizing with her need for support and creative expression or they might applaud Michael for his practical approach to family finances and efforts to balance work with family life. The added pressure of public scrutiny could intensify their conflict or perhaps push them towards a quicker resolution.

There is a cosplay event I wanna go to, and I'm excited because I've never cosplayed. But mydad may be in Qatar soon, so when mom says "I don't know", I'm the smart one for saying "It can't happen". She says he could come back earlier, but for the moment, I give up. Actually, for the next 3 months, I'll quit before I try. It's best anyways. Mom can't drive to Abu Dhabi on her own, she's too scared. It's pointless, anyways. I've failed far too many times, in a few years only, I'll reach 0. there may be creeps or someone who could do bad stuff to me, and Abu Dhabi is 1 hr away from my house, she's scared of driving that far, and who knows, maybe Joseph's hair is too tough even with hairspray and styling, and even then, I don't think I can go anyways because a disaster may happen. It's okay. I've failed exams, I've failed 2 art competitions already, I lack friends even though it's been many years to even have one, I look bad anyways, I'm stupid, so the best thing is to just wake up, brush my teeth, watch YouTube, and call it a day. I'll not even watch JoJo with mom, it's a dumb anime anyways.

I'll do what other kids do on weekends, wake up, brush teeth, watch videos for hours, eat food, watch some more videos, sleep, walk around in the house, watch some more, eat snacks, watch more. I did it for 2 months of summer break, and even though I hated it, I'm used to it. There's no use wishing for a unicorn, especially when a horse feels impossible too. Johnny Joestar became below 0, he was in the negative, he hated it, but he's used to it. It's impossible to even have a cow, that's how stupid this shit is. It's okay, I'm a failure anyways. I thought life would be more humble because I wasn't very successful, just decent, so it's fine. Failure becomes painless, and painlessness increases when you don't hope and you don't even try. My Johnny doll will probably suck in the future when I finish him, so I won't finish. Johnny at least had Gyro. I've never had anyone my age for 7 years, so why bother trying to dress up, trying to succeed in exams this time, finish Johnny, or even try anything new? It's pointless, anyways. Life becomes so unpredictable, doing nothing feels like a nice change. I don't even have 1 Gyro, 1 friend who tries to care.

If I'm worth nothing, I'm in peace. The acceptance of nothing is peace

I mean, one book said people are allowed to think low of you, so I can do it as well. I have no idea why mom cares so much. Her daughter failed her exams, can't go to IGCSE for that reason, failed 2 art competitions, looks hideous, has no friends, has no outstanding achievements not even one, I spend her money on figures and books, with dumb comics or dumb art instead of successful business books for the future, so why does she still care? Now living is the only dumb thing I'm good at. DIO was right about "Heaven", if I knew my fate, I'd have accepted my fate to the negative numbers more easily.

I haven't changed. I'm convinced I'll never change. That's fine. Change is meant to be scary anyways. Stagnancy is sometimes the best outcome.

I’m done and convinced nothing will change. I'll still fail miserable until I decide my life is pointless, therefore I'll die somehow.

Why do you still care? I’m worth as much as fucking dog-shit, anyways.

Dad will leave, “I don’t know” will become “we can’t go”, and I’ll never succeed in anything. Mom should accept the fact she has a daughter who’s gonna be a failure in the future. They say failure helps you learn, instead, I feel as if I'm going from 0 to -1. I feel more useless than ever. Why try again if all I get is just bad outcomes. It hurts, it hurts too much and it's a pain I'd rather die than live with it. How does my family even live with this...leech? The fact that all their kid does now is fail, fail, fail. They should give me away. They should honestly, HONESTLY, tell me I'm a disappointment to them, and wish I died. Life would be better if I did. Failure has hurt me too much, and the only way to stop this pain forever is to sit down, scroll, eat, sleep, and so on until I'm 30, which is my death date. What's the point of trying to help a useless person, what's the point of being nice to yourself when you know you could've done better in LIVING? Fucking cunts.

there’s not a category that fits this so i just chose randomly sorry, I don’t know how to word this plus it’s a vent I just don’t feel like living anymore i feel like a burden to everyone in my life, i stay at home constantly i feel ugly and i don’t want people to look at me i don’t even think my mom loves me it just feels like she’s saying it out of pity anytime i vent to someone they just reply with “oh but how would ___ feel?” That just makes me feel worse about myself i sometimes harm myself (scratching, cvtting, hitting) just do i dont lash out on my loved ones there’s nothing and no one stopping me from attempting and im scared im gonna do it soon, im a failure to everyone i even have a not incase i do attempt

In this world, we cannot deign to speak about the family as we see fit; instead, we must use a pre-established discourse regarding it, as it is precisely a terrain where experience is entirely personal. It is a joy to establish a normality through which to generalize all the experiences of all individuals within their families for their maintenance within society.

Such normality often proves completely detached, suffocating, and rather leads to viewing our family in a blind way and being permissive with its ways of operating. This normalization is proving to be a game of exclusion for those who fail to fit in, which translates into the absence of relationships based on maintaining this profile. In itself, it is encouraging the creation of criminals or suicides. There are authorities for these, however, the key is not to fall into such traps.

The society in which we operate creates extremely precise profiles, which leads to redefining the version of family members. An environment where illegal acts become routine encourages members, thanks to their surroundings, encouraging them to reflect on more complex practices, which society and the authorities face with greater difficulty, leading to imposed solutions that appear feasible at first. This spirit itself is leading to the creation of micro-states, isolated groups eager to dominate society, clearly seeking acceptance of their characteristics beyond their usual borders. In other words, this normalization is leading to discreet reactionary actions. It is a form of self-destruction, using, of course, its elements to simulate the absence of change, even when it is perceived. This leads to constant tension within society, achieving discourses of comfort or sophisticated domination, slowing the production of critical essence, and resulting in an approximate lack of development of individuals.

This development leads precisely to a society that is even more maladaptive in the face of its circumstances, such as illness or other events that deviate from the norm. In other words, it becomes disrupted into a maladaptive one, all in the name of maintaining a normal discourse that omits those elements that cause it to deviate from that format. Without a doubt, we can speak of a possible path toward the expansion of this group.

This fixation on the family as the axis to which one must adhere under all circumstances is, in turn, a desperate measure to maintain the structures that prepare the individual for the structures beyond it, to which we all succumb in some way. Its support for its hegemony, without examining relationships, can lead to the continuation of inappropriate behavior, which is precisely what is not desired. This defense seems unconscious and rather careless toward society, so we can speak of a clearly naive effort. The intention is for everyone to be well; however, the consequences are not produced by these, but by what the action does within the context.

Many people are starting from a defensive position, fearing their own family system, that it is promoting something alien to well-being. It has always been said that the family actually works for this reason; however, we know that the notion responds to the fulfillment of ideals and that it is specific to each group. There is a tendency to protect oneself within it for no other reason than its productiveness of stability, which in turn has shaped one's life's path in pursuit of it. The detachment from the idea of ​​maintaining the family results in a deep disillusionment that concretizes precisely the defensiveness of this notion of well-being within the praxis it represents. Change beyond this is not visualized, given that life was based on that conception; that is, the loss of it would be visualized.

In my case, it was necessary to do so because the well-being provided by my family was becoming detached from the social normality in which I subscribed, acting on those elements that only served as a means of gain, those that served to homogenize the feeling of detachment from others from a victimist behavior and a vision of life based on domination for the sake of survival. What my family was proposing was my isolation from society, consisting of seeking what was indispensable to it and sharing the feeling of marginalization encapsulated in a supremacy. It resulted in a driving force for me to enter into detachment with the idea because I did not want to remain under that condition, nor did the groups that supported it. I wanted a life consisting of consciousness, sustainable sociability, and bringer of calm, and of profitable subsistence, starting from any element that was not carried by my relatives, in order to diminish their tools to make me return to my previous situation thanks to their need to homogenize all individuals, with a view to safeguarding the idea that one is well and not bad for the fact of not being able to be inserted and in tune with the world beyond us.