Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Being 31 sucks, man. Three months ago, I found myself on the ass-end of a layoff. My company had the nerve to tell me it was all 'cause of AI. Seriously? It's way more convenient to pin it on some sexy-tech revolution to pacify the stakeholders than to admit they just don't give a damn about those who actually bust their chops on the ground. Does anybody else sense this BS?

I've been scouring for jobs, pounding the pavement, and combing through job sites till my eyeballs gave out. Three months have gone by, and voilà—zilch, nada, nothing! Every "We regret to inform you" email slices deeper. Somehow that whole "dream big, you can achieve anything" mantra outran its welcome when all the job openings want people with no life, endless patience, and a unicorn-level of expertise. Are any of these hiring managers in touch with reality?

Nothing makes sense anymore. Each day is like re-living the Groundhog Day loop but without Bill Murray's charm. People say, "You just gotta keep plugging away," but when you've got rent gnawing at your heels and the radio's blurting out how AI's making sectors disappear, you start to think, "Why's this brick wall so damn peaceful?" Alan Watts once said, "The meaning of life is just to be alive." Right now, that's easier said than done. Who even has time to listen to that anymore?

It feels like drowning, frankly. It's not like I'm new to challenges, but fighting for a mere slice of the pie when it's been swiped out by non-human hands feels like some bad plot twist. You'd think there's a magic portal out of this numb-nuts existence, but no. All I want is to stop feeling like a hamster in a wheel, spinning with nowhere to get off. Does anyone out there get it? Or is existential crisis just a Tuesday thing now?

I vent not with malice but out of desperation and a sorta-shaky hope that commiseration might exist beyond my four walls. Maybe it’s time to pivot and think beyond what was once considered job security - maybe I'm just supposed to keep calm and carry on? Whatever dull wisdom that might hold, life sure feels meaningless right now. Staring at these walls makes as much sense as the crap I've been fed about AI. Are we left to merely grit our teeth and shout into the void without getting drowned out?

lately, I find myself crying way more than I should. it's not like there's a specific trigger all the time, but sometimes it just creeps up on me, you know? I'm 27, and it feels like everything is just off track. There's this expectation by now to have it somewhat figured out. Maybe not the entire map, but at least a decent compass. But here I am, lacking a stable relationship, which feels more pressing because I have this deep-seated desire to have kids. It's like a yearning that's there, no matter how hard I try to suppress it. The biological clock is a very real thing, or at least it feels like one. Is that a silly thing to worry about?

my family doesn't seem to get it. They've always had this traditional view of what "success" looks like, and somehow, I've never quite fit the mold. An engineer would have made them proud, but here I am, a woman with creative aspirations that seem to always land me in unstable jobs. Every time I start a job, my anxiety peaks, worrying about whether this one's a keeper or just another gig I'd be dropping soon. Sometimes, I feel like I'm letting them down, which adds another layer to this emotional rollercoaster I'm on. Do you ever feel trapped in other people's expectations?

it's terrifying watching the advancement of AI technologies. There's so much talk about AI reshaping industries, automating jobs, and streamlining processes. While it all sounds incredible, it leaves people like me worried about our place in the workforce. I've read articles about how AI might replace a lot of professional roles, and while this innovation sounds great theoretically, in reality, it feels like a looming shadow. I want a fulfilling office job, one where I feel challenged and valued, but what if AI makes me irrelevant? Is it just fear-mongering, or is this something others are worried about too?

i've also tried talking to friends about it, some empathize, and others give me the same old spiel – that I'm overthinking. There's this quote I've come across multiple times that says something about how crying is an emotional release from the soul. I wish understanding that made it easier to handle. But, honestly, sometimes these tears is more about frustration and uncertainty than any soulful release. Like even though I'm not physically in danger, my emotions are on high alert most times, and letting them out just becomes a way to cope. Is it normal to feel this way in your late twenties?

with everything being as it is, I sometimes wonder if crying is me just having my own coping mechanism, whether it's due to my unsettled expectations or anxiety about the future. It's just that crying doesn't always leave one feeling better; oftentimes, it just makes the sadness more profound once the tears have stopped. Sharing this feels like standing on a virtual street with a cardboard sign screaming for someone to understand. yet, there’s a comfort in anonymity and the hope that maybe someone will nod along, having felt the same weight at some point. Have you ever cried for reasons which seemed unexplainable once you tried to express them? 🤔

So I was hanging out of VR-Chat with a few friends in a military sim and we were doing combat as usual. My sister tells me that dinner is ready, but I cant leave because its FUCKING ONLINE, and I don't want to disrespect my friends by leaving suddenly. This little ASSHOLE TURNED OFF MY SURGE PROTECTOR without me knowing, leading to my headset dying out of nowhere. I spent a few moments trying to figure out WHY my headset is dead, and refuses to charge. I plug it back in, pull the entire cord out of the socket, just to figure out that she turned it off. I can't trust my family anymore because of shit like this. This is the FIFTH WEEK that I had to go black-comms (leave) on promotions day, because nobody in my goddamn household wants me to be happy, or have friends, and then they complain that I never go outside. THEY ARE THE ONES MAKING ME TOO GODDAMN NERVOUS TO LEAVE MY FUCKING BEDROOM! I asked her if she turned off my surge protector, and she denied it like the insolent disgrace that she is. My next suspect is my mom because the constantly ignores my privacy and acts like doors mutes every sound ever, and whenever I shot her a text, asking if she did it; she also denies it and says "Im sorry your headset died", as if that is going to magically charge my headset to 100% and replace the dying batteries in it. One of those two did it, because I KNOW my dad cant take his lazy ass upstairs, he's too much of a drunk to do that. I just want to go through ONE FUCKING PROMOTIONS MEETING without having to leave early before the promotions even happen; is that too much for someone to do? Its EVERY. FUCKING. SATURDAY with these people. NO! I don't want to go eat shitty seafood with a deadbeat, a dumbass, and a spoiled brat. NO! I don't want to go swimming in Florida heat with 1K mosquitoes sucking my blood. JUST LET ME PLAY IN PIECE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES.

(sorry for the amount of cussing, I get heated easily)

Tbh there isn’t much of a story, more needing to take things off my back. If at any moment u feel uncomfortable just stop reading and do or go somewhere else. Well… ig here it is.. I hate myself, Ik it’s a thing that most ppl say or think but for everyone it’s different I think. I hate everything about myself, but I think I mostly hate the fact that I’m gay, masc, and fat. I go against everything. I feel like everything’s been going for the worst but I don’t want to stop, I just act like it so the ppl who care don’t help me as much. But I didn’t lie, I don’t want to not to stop, I like the feeling of anything bad really. Ik it sounds bad but it isn’t I swear. I think for once my dad is right.. maybe being gay is a disease after all, I mean I was happier when I was young and identified as straight, I didn’t worry if anyone thought I was a wannabe boy or if every girl friend I have thinks I immediately like them just because I say I’m gay. I think that’s way I started doing what I am, started to slowly just not eat. It started little, just skipping lunch at school, then not eating anything in the morning or at lunch at school, then after a year of that the pain went away and I didn’t really weight wise, I didn’t have stomach pains anymore. I felt empty. I felt.. feel out of control. Then fast forward this December it went from normal to really good, I didn’t care what my mom felt for me eating less then 100-300 calories for about 3-4 days on end. I remember them, it was a dream and if I had a choice I’d do again, I don’t regret it. I think I lost about 3kgs in that span or maybe more idk. Anyways now im 77kgs still losing. I was about 86kg im mid November or maybe a bit lower. And if I could say anything about how it’s been I’d say it’s addicting. The scale, I mean Idrc anymore if I do or don’t have muscle anymore. Idk what’s so addicting about the scale but it is, I don’t even really care to eat at this point, I just do it because I have to live and so my mom doesn’t call a therapist for me or smth like that. But that isn’t what I wanted to say, what I wanted to say is that these are the few but main reasons why I hate myself and I think it’s the minimum at the very least. So ig my question is, does anyone feel the same? Am I as fucked up as I seen to be?. I wish u all are okay and happy. Good morning, good afternoon, good night

i started drawing again last week after months of avoiding it like the plague, and yeah, it wasn’t some miraculous recovery arc or inspirational movie moment, it was just me sitting there with my shitty pencils and a wrinkled sketchbook trying not to panic over whether the lines were “good enough” or if the proportions matched human anatomy—or whatever. no music, no cozy candles, just raw silence and this constant tightness in my chest that made me want to rip everything apart. drawing used to be easy, like second nature, something automatic; now it’s like diffusing a bomb while blindfolded. every mark feels like a risk. it’s ridiculous. i know it. “don’t overthink it,” people say, as if that ever stopped anyone with anxiety from spiraling. still, i kept going. the first one was garbage. the second looked worse. third was somehow more insulting to the art world than the first two combined. but then the fourth? it was fine. not amazing, not portfolio-worthy, but fine. and something clicked—maybe i don’t have to be amazing at it right now. maybe it’s not about perfection anymore. maybe the point is showing up at all. i kept drawing. shaking hands and all. i’ve accepted i’ll draw like trash some days and maybe, maybe less like trash on others. who cares? who’s watching? it’s my sketchbook. my mess. my battle. and i swear, the anxiety isn’t as loud when i’m focused on shading the folds of a hoodie or aligning the pupils of some weird anime eye. it’s like tricking my brain into shutting the hell up for a second and that second is gold. have you ever tried doing that? finding a task just complicated enough to trap the anxiety behind it?

funny thing is, i showed a piece to my therapist and she said, “there’s tension in your linework but also progress. it’s expressive.” i didn’t even know what the hell that meant but it made me feel less like a failure. one drawing at a time, i feel more in control. not of life, not of anxiety, but of something. and that matters. people talk about exposure therapy all the time, but they never mention that sometimes it looks like sitting in your room sketching a hand over and over until your brain lets you breathe. you want to know what helps more than affirmations and breathing exercises?? mechanical pencils. no joke. the crispness, the control, the lack of sharpening... godsend. i’m not saying art cures anxiety, don’t get it twisted. i’m saying it gives it less space to spread. you ever tried screaming with a pencil in your mouth and both hands smudged in graphite?? me neither, but that’s kinda what it feels like. controlled chaos. beautiful distraction. controlled distraction, even. i still freak out sometimes while drawing—like if the paper gets smudged wrong or if i suddenly hate the nose i’ve spent 30 minutes on—but it passes. like waves. drawing became my anchor. my unintentional mindfulness tool. not because i wanted it to be, but because it just ended up that way; the only thing keeping me grounded when my chest is tight and my mind is screaming “what if?? what if?? what if??” over and over like a broken fire alarm. i know some people use journaling or running or god forbid, talking to others—but for me, it’s this. rough lines. smudges. messy scribbles. maybe ugly, maybe not. i’m not doing this for likes or validation. i’m doing this to breathe. maybe that’s enough. maybe that’s the whole point.

My partner and I are stepping into a new chapter together as we plan our wedding. Initially, we hadn't thought about including a wedding brunch in our schedule, but my soon-to-be mother-in-law, eager to contribute, passionately proposed hosting one. Personally, the idea of hosting a brunch wasn't on my radar, but given her enthusiasm—and her willingness to finance it—I agreed to go along with the plan.

Both my fiancé and I have been committed vegetarians for years, avoiding meat and eggs for ethical reasons, but we are okay with dairy products. Our wedding menu reflects our dietary preferences, featuring indulgent vegetarian dishes absent of eggs like exquisite pasta dishes, bruschetta, salads with mozzarella and ripe tomatoes, as well as delightful desserts like poached pears and grilled peaches. Despite the thoughtful variety, we've heard a few complaints from our families about the lack of meat and eggs.

Unexpectedly, my future mother-in-law began orchestrating the brunch menu without our input and came up with an idea to have an omelette station complemented by sausages and assorted vegetables. We suggested tweaking the menu to something less meat-centric, maybe a selection of fresh bagels, a variety of fruits, and some yogurt options, arguing that more protein-focused options weren't necessary. However, she insisted, saying the guests might react negatively if the menu lacked substantial protein options.

I understand that not all our guests are vegetarians, but it's only for two meals of a major celebration that is deeply personal to us. I truly believe it’s not too much to ask for our wishes to be respected during our special event, particularly by someone who is also gifting us something for this occasion. If she remains inflexible on changing the menu, would I be wrong to either cancel the brunch or firmly request her to halt her plans?

If this scenario were part of a reality TV show, imagine how the audience might react. Cameras capturing every tense discussion and the dramatic climax of either modifying the brunch plans or possibly canceling it altogether could potentially become a focal point of an episode. Viewers might split into camps—some sympathizing with our dedication to vegetarianism, others siding with the mother-in-law trying to please the broader family. The dynamic could bring an unpredictable swirl of support and criticism, heightening the drama all the more.

Would it be unreasonable to request a vegetarian wedding brunch menu?

Ugh, I don’t even know where to start. Honestly, I hate my family right now, and I feel bad even saying that, but it’s true. They just don’t get me at all, and it feels like every single thing I do turns into a huge fight. It’s like they’re just waiting for me to mess up so they can jump all over me.

Take last night, for example. My mom asked me to clean my room, and yeah, it was a bit messy, but it’s my room, right? Why does she care so much if there’s clothes on the floor? I said I’d do it later, but she kept yelling about how I’m lazy and don’t respect her. Then my dad joined in, saying how I’m always on my phone and never help out around the house. Like, okay, sorry I have a life? It’s not like I’m doing nothing all day—I have school, homework, and trying to keep up with my friends.

And my siblings? Don’t even get me started. My younger brother is the golden child who can do no wrong. He gets away with everything. If he leaves his stuff lying around, no one cares. But if I do it? Suddenly it’s the end of the world. My older sister is just as bad. She’s constantly acting like she’s better than me, always pointing out what I’m doing wrong. “Why don’t you get better grades like I did?” or “You’re so dramatic, you just want attention.” Like, yeah, thanks for the support.

It’s not just the little things either. It’s like they don’t even try to understand me. Every time I want to talk about something that’s bothering me, they either brush it off or turn it into a lecture. One time I told my mom how stressed I was about school, and instead of helping, she went on about how I need to stop procrastinating and “take responsibility.” I wasn’t even procrastinating! I just needed someone to listen, but nope, all I got was more pressure.

They also have these ridiculous rules that make no sense. Like, why do I have to be home by 9:00 PM on weekends? All my friends get to stay out later, but if I even ask, they just say, “Our house, our rules.” It’s like they don’t trust me at all. And don’t get me started on my phone—they’re always checking it and asking who I’m texting. It’s so embarrassing. Can’t I have any privacy?

The worst part is that they act like they’re doing all this because they care, but it doesn’t feel like caring. It feels like they just want to control everything I do. And then, when I get upset or try to defend myself, they tell me I’m being “disrespectful” or “ungrateful.” How am I supposed to be grateful when they make me feel like this all the time?

Sometimes, I just want to run away. I know that’s dramatic, but I can’t help thinking about it when things get really bad. Like, what if I could just live on my own, do what I want, and not have to deal with all this? If this was a reality show, I wonder what people would think. Would they see me as the bratty teenager who’s overreacting, or would they realize how impossible my family makes everything? Probably the first one, knowing my luck.

I know deep down that they probably don’t mean to make me feel like this, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I just wish they’d actually listen to me instead of always assuming they’re right. I want to feel like I matter, like my opinions and feelings are worth something, but right now, it just feels like I’m constantly being judged and criticized.

Does anyone else feel this way about their family? Am I the only one who feels like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough? I know people say “family is everything,” but what are you supposed to do when it feels like they’re the ones making your life harder?

My sister Chloe phoned me last week, expressing how much she missed me and suggested staying over since we both had some free time. Being students in different states—she's about to graduate her college while I'm midway through mine—I was excited about the idea and agreed immediately.

Chloe arrived and settled into my small one-bedroom apartment, utilizing the couch as her bed. The first couple of days, Monday and Tuesday, were fantastic. We spent quality time catching up, wandering through malls, and just enjoying each other’s company. But then Wednesday rolled around, and I had to leave for work. I made sure she was comfortable alone at home, and she didn’t seem to mind at all.

During my lunch break that day, panic set in when I couldn’t find my wallet. I always keep my valuables, like my phone, keys, and wallet, in a concealed section of my backpack. I texted Chloe, asking if she had seen it anywhere. She responded no but offered to search for it. Thankfully, I had Apple Pay, so buying lunch wasn't an issue.

When I returned that evening, Chloe claimed she found my wallet atop my sock drawer. However, I was certain it wasn't there when I checked the previous morning, which raised my suspicions. A quick glance at my online banking app confirmed my fears: a total of $1545.32 was missing from my accounts. The realization that Chloe could be responsible for this was heartbreaking. When I confronted her and mentioned involving the police, she broke down and admitted to stealing the money.

I knew Chloe had always been the family favorite, rarely facing consequences for her actions, but this was too much. Despite her tears and protests, and even attempts to physically stop me, I dialed 911. She then locked herself in the bedroom and hysterically called our parents, who immediately flooded my phone with call attempts.

Talking with the dispatcher, I managed to explain everything just before the local officer arrived. During the wait, I saw about 30 missed calls from mom and dad, which I chose to ignore until after the officer had handled the situation. Once he took Chloe into custody and accepted my evidence, it was confirmed she would be charged with a felony for the amount stolen.

The aftermath was just as tough; calling my parents later only led to them scolding me, insisting they could've resolved the money issue quickly and accusing me of ruining Chloe’s life.

Reflecting on the situation, I'm left wondering if standing up for myself was somehow wrong. Especially if this ordeal were part of a reality TV show, imagine the drama that would ensue! Would viewers take my side for enforcing consequences, or would they criticize me for not settling the issue privately within family boundaries?

I fucking hate my life, myself, the people in my life (besides one), the people not in my life anymore.

I feel so bad; this depression is killing me.

It already fucking killed me from the inside.

I feel rotten from the inside,

like i have this parasite in me that just kills my sense of time,

my ability to feel anything.

I just wanna feel. Feel happy, cared for.

I don’t wanna hurt, or be hurt.

I don’t wanna be wronged, left.

I don’t wanna be rotten,

scared of people seeing through the lies and driven away from me.

I hope i just dont wake up tomorrow,

no one text me,

so how will they know if i am alive or not?

They dont care if there is blood running through my veins,

oxygen through my blood,

if my heart is pounding.

No one fucking care in the end.

And the end? I’ve fucking reached it.

Im so done. I feel depressed,

so i reach out to people in the hope for just.. love, comfort, non-judgement.

And what do i get? ‘Space to heal’.

That you can’t heal the soul you didn’t break, doesn’t mean you can just fucking leave?

I literally told you i wasn’t your responsibility, and you take it as a yes for just ghosting me?

I never asked you to fix me,

i just long to be held. You abandoning me,

in the time i need you the most,

cuts deeper than the blade i use to just fucking feel something.

If, in the darkest time in the night,

my body just aches to hurt, bleed, harm.

Am i just supposed to give in?

Does it make you feel better that i have a possibility of bleeding out,

just because u can’t handle, change me?

That i feel unable to open up to you?

That i spend my time writing this?

Because only my fucking notes app listenings?that you are the reason i shed a tear?

Are unable to sleep?

Get bad grades from stress?

Look, i don’t blame you for my pain,

i blame you for ignoring it.

Do you feel better, now you left?

Because i ‘only text you to vent’?

Maybe i do,

BECAUSE YOU NEVER.FUCKING.TEXT.ME.

Do you want me to fucking beg you for a text? Is it that hard,

to just stick around when i need you?

I don’t want your pity, help, advice.

I know i shouldn’t cut myself,

i am aware that food is a live essential.

Do you think I’m that fucking stupid?

Do you see me as retarded?

You fucking do, don’t you?

Well i can’t ask you,

BECAUSE YOU WON’T FUCKING RESPONSE. Didn’t you say you care? Love me? Is this love? Leaving in hard times? Were it all just lies?

I really believed you.

When i told you i love you,

I did with every inch of me.

Why does everyone in the end leave?

Am i that fucking unlovable?

Or did they just got scared away,

by my rotten inside?

Oh well, can’t blame them.

And now you wonder why i don’t talk to you?

If i end up dead,

you’re one of my fucking 13 reasons,

and i hope it haunts you for eternity.

I hope your fucking soul is still lost,

wandering in the dark depths or the universe if you lay in your grave as your corpse rots away in the ground.

Actually, no, i don’t. I still love you.

I still care about you, how your day was,

how you slept, what’s going on in your head, your silence battles.

Even when i am drowning and youre just complaining about too much CO2 in your unlimited oxygen,

i’d still give you some of my air.

See..! It’s.not.that.fucking.hard.

What do you need to just understand it?

Do i need to buy you glasses?

Or will my suicide note be the thing you finally read, and don’t ghost?

Fuck, i am such a fool, ain’t i?

I have toxic family environment so I can't study, they disturb my mental state so I am unable to focus on study and I am stressed if I don't study my future will be spoilt

I am an only child, now 38 years of age, NOT married but has a baby and in good terms with the father of my baby - he is still my boyfriend

All my life my hero was my dad. He’d give me all i ask for. I was spoiled. I was a brat. Though it was like that, I knew he has some negative traits but i ignored. I would question only in the back of my mind but i wouldnt say anything because i wasnt allowed to talk back to elders, it was like an ultimate crime for a child to talk back to parents (even if questioning or defending).

His negative traits are:

HE LOOKS DOWN ON THE LESS FORTUNATE - he thinks highly of himself.

1)When i was young, he told me to slap my female cousin whenever she doesnt follow my command. And i even did one time sadly. I apologozed for it but he never did. He bribed her with stationeries and other things but never said the word sorry.

2)he discriminates my uncle (mom’s brother, so his brother in law) because he is gay. Whenever he passes by, he would talk to someone with him (usually service drivers) and say “if he was my brother, that will not be allowed. I will beat him til he becomes a man” the person he would say that to, doesnt react at all, seen it many times. He was like that since i was young. It’s one of the things i questioned in my head “what’s wrong if he’s gay? He is the one who tutored me, your daughter. He is the one who will drop off and pick up your daughter, ME, from school”

3)he discriminates my cousin (again, mother side) because he has autism. He will say things like “he’s old but he isnt normal, everything about him is just wrong”

HE HURTS ANIMALS

1)there were several times when i was in mu early 20s that i planned to move out and take my cats and dogs with me, my aunt (mom side) will just fix things between me and my dad. He never did say sorry for hurting any of my pets before. He never made initiative to make peace, as mentioned, my aunt would fix things between us

2)my mom slipped. There was a time when we talked on the phone and she told me she gave away her chihuahua because he has become too aggressive. And then when i actually talked to her in person she said that the chihuahua died because my dad my hitting him constantly with a bamboo stick

HE IS A HYPOCRITE

1)he actually said my cousin was like a frustrated sexy star then when things got messy between my dad and i (more of this mess later on), my cousin admitted that he was molesting her before. So she asked her boyfriend to get pregnant because it was her ticket out and she did get out but she said my dad uses to send her messages like “you are more beautiful now that you have your own kids”

2)my boyfriend buys him his maintenance medicine so we barely have money left for us so sometimes we cant immediately buy extra things for our baby, like a pacifier. It’s cheap but it’s not a necessity and i will hear him say “what kind of parent isbthat?! Cant even buy this, or that”. My boyfriend even bought him food for his birthday and he never said thank you to him. And instead he even asked about my ex boyfriend, the ex that hurt me physically, Used and abused me everyday, and my dad knows that.

Those are just some samples to describe him.

Now the family drama…

I worked abroad for 8 years. Came home only once, in the 4th year. And i came back home again because i was pregnant. I didnt want to marry nor have kids. I had a horrible experience with my ex. He would use and abuse me daily, and he even got me pregnant but hotnit aborted. He shoved pills down my throat regularly. But i never bled. There was pain and that’s when our baby got aborted. The midwife said it was better because the baby wouldnt have been normal anymore from the pills. That is just a summary of why i dont want to marry and have a baby. I am scared. But i have changed my mind regarding pregnancy but not marriage and I have been trying to get pregnant for 3 years. I did in the second year but miscarried at 4th month. I set aside trying to get pregnant but i did again after 3 months from the miscarriage. So i went back home thinking things changed well it did but for the worse. I am in a long distance relationship and i live in hell.

During my pregnancy my dad cursed at my boyfriend when he wanted to look for another doctor for second opinion because it was all caesarean caesarean all the way. When i finally gave birth, my boyfriend paid for everything by the way and he is still the one supporting me and our baby and he is still the one buying my father’s meds and he is still the one giving additional financial support to MY family for food etc because im a full time stay at home mom, i dont have my own money.

Newborn. Well my newborn cried nonstop for the first 2/3 weeks. My father will go “sigh” “here we go again” and even one time he cursed at my baby he said “make THAT THING stop crying, because it is so annoying” i never said anything. So when i was left watching over my baby, who was crying, he went and called my mom i can hear him say “THAT will die soon” so when they opened the door i just yelled “dont even get involved because you know nothing of taking care of a baby” i know cos my mom told me, i was cared for mostly by grandma, uncles and aunts during the day. And night it was my other grandma and my mom. My dad even gave me expired milk so HELLO, he doesnt know how to take care of baby. Then we never talked. It was his way. I learned from him so i dont talk to him too. One time after my baby’s vaccinations, so she was all fussy and crying again, my dad cursed at me from the window - i ignored. He went in side the house and to the room where me and my baby was to curse at me again “aon of a bitch! Why dont you give milk?! You devil!” So i said in a flat tone cos i am pissed with what he said but trying to be patient “she doesnt want mlik” then He pointed at my face and said that i was being rude. So as he walked away, I stared at him thinking “what” then he started talking again “how dare you stare at me” “stop staring you bastard” never said anything but i kept staring cos i am confused he kept on cursing at me then came back to hit me in the shoulder when i was carrying my crying baby so i snapped. Really, i cant contain myself anymore. Hit me while carrying my baby? No no! So i just yelled back “yeah keep hitting me” “do it” he put his fist on my cheek and he put his 2 fingers on my eyes and i yelled “you think so high of yourself” then he cursed me and my boyfriend. My mom came and stopped the yelling but me and my dad never talked since then.

I can hear him sometimes talking about me and my boyfriend

“No more dreams and aspirations”

-i chose to be a stay at home mom, and that is bad in his eyes. I should be working.

“They should die. I dont care. They’re the devil”

So what i want to rant about is that everyday my father would have renovations at home. Hammer. Saw. Furnitures moving around. -my baby cant sleep at all. So when she wakes up and cries he’s gonna go look and say lots of things like the way i take care of my baby is wrong.

We’re gonna leave in about a month. My mom asked for one last thing and that is my boyfriend to come pick us up, i want to give her that. But i feel bad for my baby really. No sleep.

Confession

So, I want to start by saying this is 100% a real experience I’m going through. And although it is s*xual in nature it is NOT just some s*xual post by someone trying to get off through the comments. Anyways. 3 years ago my fiancé passed away suddenly after being with each other since we were teenagers. She was 26. We had the most connected and comfortable s*xual relationship that it’s humanly possible. We knew what each other wanted, we were comfortable exploring any and everything DEEP in our minds, no matter how “weird” it got. It was incredible. And not to mention she was BEAUTIFUL. And I know every man says that about their partner but it’s different when they actually are attractive on a level where they could have ANYONE they want. She was mixed. Light skin. 5’5 145 lbs with curves everywhere. Just perfect. Anyways, since her passing. It has been hell for me emotional but also sexually. Just how connected we were with it in general makes me think it’ll never happen again. That I’ll never be as attracted or mentally-s*xual able to explore anyone’s mind like hers again. Moving on, after so long with not only missing her touch, but a females presence or touch at all, it’s been brutal. And I’m a pretty good looking guy. 6’5 230 lbs. Long hair. And I’m not bragging I’m just saying, this isn’t a case of a guy who just can’t attract women. Never had a problem. Moving on. Pleasuring myself has even been difficult do to me thinking of her and even using p*rn is hard to do because we use to watch it together and very shortly after trying to take care of my natural urges, I slowing lose the RISE and ability to finish due to the thoughts. And do to that, its been over 2 years since I have “released”by taking care of it myself. Still I have very sexual dreams. To the point I wake up VERY…uncontrollably throbbing, only to have the same outcome of thinking of her and losing the ability. It’s been torture. I know that a females touch and help would probably fix this over time, but the women I HAVE connected with and hung out with just weren’t the same and it quickly ended due to me just not feeling it. So here’s where it gets kind of “weird” but it’s just truth and I have to get SOMEBODY to hear me even if it’s anonymous. So it’s been 3 years and over 2 years since I’ve had any relief at all. Recently, I’ve been having dreams OF ME DREAMING, waking up hard, and my mom coming in to help me, tells me to close my eyes and just think of it as a mother helping her son. No different than helping her son get dressed or feeding your child as a mother when young. And usually not long after, I wake up and think to myself, OMG how weird and usually my hardness fades away quick and I try and erase it from my mind. But it’s been happening almost EVERY NIGHT now, after increasing more and more. The only difference is, now, I find myself actually thinking about how it would feel, and while it not being anything about actual sex, or being exactly like it was with my fiancé, but maybe it’s just the “being taken care of, and the nurturing part of it, that is making me actually think of acting upon it. And my mom was a cheerleader. Very beautiful even now in her late 40s. She and my dad divorced when I was really young. And I know what you’re thinking. This is probably some fetish post or something but it’s genuinely not. This IS REAL. So, moving on. My last dream, I remembered something my mom said to me some time ago, when I fell asleep on the couch at her house (the one I grew up in) and evidently had a huge bulge in my pants while sleeping. She woke me up to tell me and I was super embarrassed, and she said “it’s fine, hun! Nothing I haven’t seen before. You use to get like that even when you were little you were like that all the time” and while I know she wasn’t talking about touching me. It just made me think. How would I actually go about even coming close to getting on this subject with her and telling her about the hell im going through with all this sexual tension and not just wanting to hire some hooker or something to do it. And I thought to myself. What it, when my mom texts me (usually every day or two) and asks me how I’m doing. What if I tell her the truth about what’s going on with my waking up throbbing and all the tension. Literally bothering my life. Just to see what she would say? Maybe she’d say “well why don’t you take care of that” just being funny or something, which could open the door for me to explain to her how I can’t because of the immediate thought of my late fiancé, and how the thought of doing it myself, and not her helping me, immediately stops my ability to do it. Ya know JUST to see what she would say. This is all new to me and again, I’m not some weirdo that is just having a taboo fantasy. And I’m IN NO WAY insinuating ACTUAL S*X with her. This is just something I’m legitimately dealing with. What should I do? It’s getting EXCRUCIATING and I can’t stop thinking about it. God the relief I would feel if I could just ACTUALLY have this happen and feel nurturing love again, someone genuinely wanting me to have relief, making it happen, for ME, again. Even if it’s like this. Thanks for listening.

so my parents keep asking me to leave the house and start my own life, but honestly, i can barely get out of bed in the morning. i’m not lazy or anything, i just feel stuck, like there’s a weight on me that won’t budge. i wake up, look at my phone, and realize there’s nothing waiting for me except a long list of things i don’t want to do. it’s not depression or anything—at least i don’t think so—but it’s like i’m in this weird limbo where i know what i should be doing but i just can’t bring myself to start. i’m 21 and my parents are right, i can’t just keep lying here, but the thought of job applications or interviews just makes me want to roll over and pull the covers back up. it’s not that i don’t care; it’s more that i don’t know how to care anymore, you know? 😕

some mornings, i set my alarm and i’m determined to get up early, maybe make some breakfast, even go for a run or something. but when that alarm goes off, my brain just shuts it out, like “what’s the point?” i tell myself i’ll get up in five minutes, but then it’s noon and i’m still scrolling on my phone. my parents come in, knock on my door, and start their usual speeches about responsibility and adulthood and how i need to contribute to the world. i nod along because they’re not wrong, but i just can’t seem to find the motivation. it’s like my body’s in bed but my mind’s trapped somewhere else, somewhere far away from all this.

i think the hardest part is feeling like i’ve already failed before i’ve even started. i see my friends posting about new jobs, internships, moving out of their parents’ houses, and i’m just here wondering how they even found the energy to get dressed. it’s not jealousy exactly, more like confusion. how do they do it? how do they make it look so easy to just get up and go? i wish someone would explain the secret, because it feels like i missed the memo or skipped the part of life where you learn how to deal with responsibilities. i don’t want to be the guy who never leaves his parents’ house, but i also don’t know how to change that. 😩

so yeah, how do you get out of bed in the morning when everything feels heavy and pointless? is there some trick i’m missing? i know it’s not just me feeling like this, but it feels like everyone else figured it out except me. i want to start living my own life, get my own place, have something to look forward to, but every morning i wake up and it’s like i’ve hit the snooze button on my own future. maybe tomorrow will be different, but maybe it won’t. i don’t know. do you? 🤔

As a working mom, the need for a reliable childcare provider was paramount, which is why we were thrilled to find a wonderful nanny who bonded beautifully with our son. Initially, to smooth my transition back to work, we decided it would be a good idea for both grandmothers to spend some time with our son alongside the nanny. This plan, however, did not unfold as expected.

My mother-in-law, although she loves her grandson dearly, seems to have a challenging relationship with our nanny. It's become apparent that she's somewhat dismissive of the nanny's expertise, often undermining her by insisting on her own methods of feeding and handling the baby. Despite her good intentions, her approach sometimes compromises the baby's safety, which is unnerving. More importantly, she is prone to taking the baby to other parts of the building without notifying the nanny, adding to the stress. Her visits are also significantly longer than expected, stretching to almost a full day.

Today, upon returning from work while my husband was away, I found our nanny visibly upset, which is entirely out of character for her. She confided in me that she finds the dynamic with my mother-in-law too distressing and it's affecting her ability to work effectively. The nanny admitted that she dreads the days my mother-in-law visits, to the point where she's considering resigning. I was utterly dismayed and assured her that I would address the issue promptly, suggesting a possible adjustment to have my mother-in-law visit only on weekends when we are more available to supervise.

Sharing this situation over the phone with my husband was tough. I emphasized the seriousness of the issue, concerned about the possibility of losing a great nanny. The thought of setting boundaries with my mother-in-law is daunting—she hasn't taken well to suggestions in the past. My husband remains optimistic about his mother adapting her behavior, but past attempts suggest otherwise. It's saddening and challenging to see someone who provides care so integral to our family's functioning this unsettled.

I also sense a disconnect with my husband, who has not witnessed these interactions firsthand, making it harder for him to grasp the severity of the situation. He often asks for specific examples of his mother's behavior, which makes me feel like he might think I’m exaggerating the issue.

If this situation were part of a reality show, I imagine the drama and tension would escalate dramatically. Cameras would capture the raw emotions and perhaps the blunt conversations that need to happen. It could either lead to a swift resolution or more likely, amplify the family strain for the audience's intrigue. How would viewers react to seeing such a personal family conflict unfold on screen? Would they take sides or propose different solutions?

Am I being unreasonable to demand that my husband talks to his mother about limiting her visits to weekends? It feels necessary, but he seems to think I'm overreacting.

I'm currently running on two hours of sleep, and not per night. Literally I have gotten two hours of sleep in the past like four days.

I don't know why. I'm really freaking tired. But no matter what, I just can't sleep.

I can hardly keep my eyes open in class, but I can't go to sleep either; believe me, I've tried.

I just don't know what to do because I'm afraid that if i tell my parents or my doctor, they'll dismiss it as the sleep problems I've had since forever and yes it's probably those sleep problems and if it is they've gotten a LOT worse.