Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Robbie (he/him) again! I'm really just rambling.

I've really been struggling with the subject IT lately. Or rather I've always struggled with it. When i started taking the subject last year i was heavily depressed, and remained depressed throughout the year. As a result I didnt learn much in this new subject and the teacher even had issues with me since I had handed in a really bad quality the end of year Practical assignment. I handed in such bad assignments and didnt do the work in class, and couldnt focus in class, nor study for tests due to the depression i had and the like, super traumatising chronic stress inducinng "friendship" i had all year. Like I either didnt care or didnt have the time to study or learn when i did care. And that situation continued until early this year, but after ending that friendship life has been so much better for me. BUt like academically it's hard to catch up on a year of not learning the work. ANd so my marks have been fluctuating heavily in IT ever since, One term it's 80% and 50%, another it's 40% and 50%. Middle of this year my teacher even thought i'd been cheating on a test, because my marks went up with like 20%. The teacher really freaked me out with that whole ordeal and I know it really got me demotivated about the subject for the whole next term.

Like for a subject where I have to code, the code really doesn't stick in my head for long. So I kinda have to study all the time right before a test, so I can achieve 70-80%. And generally speaking I've kinda had a slump recently, A bit of a depressive episode, and I can't find the motivation to do IT work. And over the last few months we've had do our end of year practical assignment, and I genuinely wanted to not at all repeat last year's issues about it where my teacher sent me my PAT back asking me to improve it (nice of him but freaked me out).

So I wanted to work on it from the get go, and as time passed i realised I just never worked on it, but when friends asked and my family asked I'd reverted to lying that I'd done this that and the other recently, or that my PAT included whatever code. So i've had a thorough idea of my project since the get go just never the actual project. ANd like this is better than last year at least since i know what i have to do for the project, I know im capable, and I know i have the time. But time passes, I'm kinda depressed and all of a sudden we have to hand in the written part of the project, and i had nothing, so I wrote something in one day. It wasnt great but it was pretty damn substantial. Like an okay grade, and very much a passing grade. And i felt okay enough about it, nevermind the procrastination. And i resolved to do the code aspect throughout the next week so I could hand it in in time. And no matter how much I thought about it, no matter if i had everything next to me I'd need, no matter if i had the resolve, I just didnt code it, And then didnt hand anything in. And that was the Friday before last. And over this past week Ive been meaning to code it and I've been lying to friends that I couldnt hand it in because my house didnt have internet over the weekend (over said weekend I did actually turn off wifi on all my devices to make that lie believable). And then someone actually broke my phone this last Monday so if I had the project done i couldnt hand it in anyways, because I needed my phone for access to Teams. So eventually on Wednesday, I'd messaged my teacher telling him I'm sorry for the delays in handing in my project and I'd lied to saying the no wifi thing, and id added the truth that I now couldnt hand it in because of the phone breaking, and id added the truth that i emailed the school's techs to help me gain access to Teams again. And then I turned uninstalled the app my teacher would need to contact me again (it's exams now so I didnt actually need to go to school after wednesday this week), and I resolved to code my project on Wednesday. And then I didn't again, ad again and now it's sunday and I havent coded it yet. And I literally have not thought about anything else this last week, and yet i can't bring myself to code this thing i know im capable enough of coding.

I feel so scared of somehow being found out, or the teacher having even more against me, and im scared of the school reprimanding me since i dont know if i could handle my parents knowing I've lied ect ect. And i kinda have just been feeling absolutely terrible about myself this last week because of this. It's not that i dont want to do this, or that i'm doing more fun things instead, or that i dont care, I'm just so scared about this subject in general because of everything regarding how I feel very behind in IT, and I'm scared of my teacher since he thought I was cheating, and I'm scared my parents will know, and I'm scared my friends will know, I'm scared of my loved ones finding out just how much i lie. I've been thinking recently that I might have become a compulsive liar over the last few years where I generally hide my mental health issues from everyone, and then later how i hid was essentially being emotionally abused for a year and a half by my "best friend".

Oh, i dont what to do at all. I even had a nightmare where I was horribly scared the entire time, and i realized the nightmare was because i spent the whole week scared before the nightmare, the emotion went into my dreams even.

Thank you all for reading, I really appreciate it.

Too exhausted and drained of energy from a relationship filled with deep affection and forbidden love. It often feels like all the effort in this relationship is one-sided. I always give, but never receive anything in return. The love bombing phase has ended. There was a time when I felt genuinely loved and cared for wholeheartedly. We both already have partners and children. We only meet in person at work, in the office. The relationship began when we started sharing stories about our lives, which eventually developed into something more intimate. The love bombing phase was the most beautiful period—it felt like being young again, like a first love. The relationship was full of excitement, with a constant desire to meet and be together. Every effort was made just to stay close, no matter what. It felt like I couldn’t live without them.

But lately, what I feared has started to happen. Their true nature is beginning to show. They lie often and look for reasons to start fights—just so they can spend time with others, which they never used to do before. They’ve also been interacting frequently with their ex, claiming it’s purely professional. However, they were once caught alone together in a car in a parking lot. I don’t know what they were doing—they claimed they were just going to grab a meal together. They’re increasingly working together on the same projects. They seem very enthusiastic when talking about this ex, who holds a high position in the company. They seem to admire them a lot. But they always get extremely angry when I bring it up, which only makes me more suspicious.

The more I express my doubts, the more they lash out—yelling and twisting the facts. They bring up my past mistakes but refuse to acknowledge their own. I love them deeply, so I’ve often ignored their faults and let things slide. But over time, it’s become too frequent and too much to handle. It's started affecting my mental health, making me lose motivation in both work and daily life.

What’s most disturbing is that they don’t let me interact with others. They don’t allow me to go out with friends, yet they often socialize with other men. I don’t know what to do anymore. Right now, I’m in a very sad place and don’t feel like doing anything at all.

At 46 years old, I find myself in a pivotal phase of life, contemplating moving in with my partner of five years, a 57-year-old man. As my children from a previous marriage have recently moved out, the practicality of our living situations has become a topic of discussion.

My partner owns his home outright, while I'm still paying off a mortgage on mine. His house is larger, making it a sensible choice for us to move in together. The plan would involve me renting out my property, which should bring in about $600 each week.

However, when we discussed how to handle our finances together, he proposed that in addition to splitting all household bills and the cost of groceries, I should also give him 50% of the income I earn from renting out my home. While I understand and agree with sharing the bills, the idea of handing over half of my rental earnings didn't sit right with me, especially since he doesn't have a mortgage to worry about.

He explained his reasoning by stating that he wanted to prevent any feelings of being taken advantage of should our relationship end. His idea of fairness was a straight 50/50 split in all aspects, including income that I would generate independently from him.

To me, this arrangement feels disproportionally in his favor, almost like an 80/20 split. If I were to agree to his terms, I could be paying roughly $150 a week for rent in addition to covering half of all other living costs. Comparatively, I am only comfortable with contributing a maximum of $150 total per week for rent, bills, and groceries. Given that my income is around $75,000 annually, and his is about $85,000—half of which he earns from another rental property—it seems he is positioned to benefit far more from this arrangement than I am.

Imagining this scenario unfolding on a reality show, the audience might be split. Some viewers could sympathize with my hesitation and sense of unfairness, echoing that love shouldn't be so transactional. Others might side with my partner, advocating for his approach to protect his assets and maintain an equal footing in the relationship. No doubt, it would spark a heated debate among fans and critics alike, especially given the complexities of blending lives and assets in later life.

Am I unreasonable for resisting the idea of giving up half my rental income to him?

I, 14F, live in a household with my dad, 52M, and my little brother, 11M, who suffers from developmental disabilities (one of the types of autism). My sister, 19F, has moved away for university. Both my sister and I agree that getting away from our family by graduating is the best and most pacifistic solution. Growing up, my mom (I don't remember how old she was and is) was both physically and mentally abusive. She left a lot of issues for me to handle. Technically, she is the reason why I hate myself, body and soul, in this day and age. I found myself at 9 years old, begging my dad to divorce my mom, thinking that everything would be over. Guess what? My dad had to see his father dying from COVID-19, and TWO WHOLE MONTHS LATER, after lots of incidents, he filed a restraining order and a divorce. Of course, he had to see his children crying and begging him on their feet to do it. Yeah, of course, I had to see my newly bought clothes by my godmother with scissors because my mom and godmother/aunt were beefing at that time. Of course, my mom had to pull me by the shirt and drag me upstairs because she found me eating at my aunt's when she refused to cook for a whole week. I was just thankful that my mom would go away. Long story short, the court drives weren't amazing. The judges would side with my mom and use false information against us. I was just a kid, and the judge was treating me like a middle-aged criminal. Anyway, people started seeing the truth, and my dad won custody of all three kids. We live in a small village therefore everything is easily shared. Today, my dad is kind of... overprotective. Which eventually becomes unnecessarily annoying and very disturbing. I never actually had a boyfriend until I met Kanye on Instagram. He is three years older than me. I've been rejected twice (to be honest, kind of harshly since the last guy threw my card to someone I hated because they made dirty jokes about me and then said that I'd probably have a chance with the dirty guy instead), and I didn't give much thought because I liked him. We were in a relationship for two and a half months. Until my dad found out and went berserk. He deleted my Instagram accounts and blocked all my apps on my phone through parental control. I eventually broke up with Kanye because my dad threatened to fly to Kanye's home country and file a restraining order against him. I had to break up with the one guy I could talk freely about my situation without being judged and the only guy that loved me for me and not for my talents to brag about. I'm seriously debating life at this point. Kanye kept me alive. Now Kanye has to go. What's left? Nothing. What does my dad do to help? Make everything worse. "I don't have a favorite kid," he says as he suggests that my brother will use MY PHONE to watch YouTube because my brother's phone was out of battery. Yeah, okay, my brother has autism, I respect that. But god damn it. If you're going to use it like that, you're just not cool. I have trouble waking up because even my nightmares are better than this. I can't even pick up my ass to do basic things like shower or eat. But in my dad's mind, I'm just lazy. I don't want to keep living at this point. As my mom once said, "It should have been you instead of my miscarriage the year before your birth". Man, I know, it really should have.

Facebook is beyond belief. You can't say anything through it. I was just talking about those feelings that are contradictory to advocating for good ideals, and it itself put it up for review. Such an extremely valuable text, it itself put it up for review. It's a question that I found totally offensive.

How could they do that? I feel like with Facebook, you can't write anything, because in principle, no one knows why it puts things up for review. It doesn't mention anything about what I published; it just leaves you at the mercy of uncertainty. I used to vent on Facebook, but over time, I stopped doing that. Frankly, I don't want to post posts like the one I made in WhatsApp groups, after reflecting, because I find it disruptive, and I like to post a lot.

Putting up with Facebook cutting off a post without explanation is harassing. You expect it to remain a post, even more so when it's barely published and doesn't say anything about it being annoying or anything like that. It takes you by surprise. You want to publish in peace, but you don't know what mistakes you made to sustain that. Besides, in such posts, I express my creativity; I'm not attacking anyone or spreading hate speech or anything like that. They're simply creative posts, nothing more, even pleasant stories, for enjoyment, rich reading, and everything is in groups, where that's what they're for. The platform is pulling my hair out; I mean, I need a space to share what I want to publish calmly, and Facebook isn't providing it, even though it gives the false illusion that it is.

I don't know if Facebook or people are worse. What I publish often seems like an attack on prejudice, a search to break molds, to make people think within intimacies that are not socially undermined, and therefore people, at least those around me, feel incapable of being receptive, even though I've heard good comments about it. Facebook is the one I find most receptive, however, despite these surprises, I didn't find it pleasant. I continue to insist that it's the worst not knowing why your post, unexpectedly once again, is being sent for review, especially after someone put so much effort into such texts, because they wanted them to be pleasant, and also exposed to a general audience. I feel it's a way of harming my creativity, I have to say it this way, of making me feel insecure when it comes to publishing.

When I publish myself, I express myself, I vent, I can't go around with fears, or checking to see if my post was deleted or not. This anxiety is exhaustive, and also unfair. I revise my texts very thoroughly, and I also like that what I write is absolutely divine for the reader, and it helps me with my writing. When Facebook sends it for review, it's like feeling like my effort is completely set aside, that such divine art is spit out after having been arduously worked on. It's feeling like the platform treats what you've done in a completely dehumanizing way. Furthermore, in the groups, it appears that the administrator will review it, and they don't agree. This, well, since they and I are strangers, barely through online contact, only triggers problems; saying that Facebook played a trick sounds like an excuse.

Facebook, more than serving as a benefit for publishing and sharing content, is becoming a completely uncomfortable platform. I'd like to discover better platforms, but I also don't want to just go changing because I've already established my life there, virtually. Besides, this isn't happening because of others, but because of the platform itself. I also feel the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it, that the platform can send what I publish back for review in a completely arbitrary way, as I feel it has done with me up until now.

I've seen more than one person complaining about Facebook censorship. At the same time, I feel a sensitivity on the part of the platform that makes readings of the content extremely superficial. However, here I am considering the potential consequences of the platform's actions, but it's a futile effort. It never ceases to appear, naturally, because I am a human being. Before, I felt safe and secure on this platform, but all I feel like doing is moving to another platform, any one, just to avoid these surprises.

Before my wife, Evelyn, and I tied the knot, we meticulously discussed crucial aspects such as our living arrangements, handling familial issues, and parenting philosophies. We wanted to ensure that our core values aligned, avoiding potential deal breakers down the line.

Notably, we reached a consensus on one key financial aspect: as long as our children were enrolled as full-time students, they wouldn't need to contribute financially to the household. They would still be required to help out with household chores, of course. Conversely, if they chose not to pursue further education, they would be granted a six-month grace period following their academic or professional pursuits. Post this period, they would need to start paying rent which we decided would equate to a quarter of what they'd earn at a full-time minimum wage job.

This agreement was forged back in 1998 and held firm with our children. Our eldest, Michael, after high school, chose to work, save up, and then travel the globe rather than attend college. Upon his return, he embarked on an apprenticeship and is now successfully established as a welder. Our daughter, Lisa, pursued a degree in nursing and secured her position in a reputable hospital. However, our youngest, Tom, dropped out after his first semester in college and displayed no interest in working thereafter.

When the six-month mark post his academic dropout came around, I informed him of his need to start contributing financially. Distraught, Tom sought empathy from Evelyn, and to my surprise, she waived his financial responsibilities without prior discussion with me. It’s important to note that Evelyn manages our finances, including the household bills which I contribute to from my income, and any surplus she earns goes into her personal expenditure or our joint vacation fund.

Feeling undermined, I decided to reduce my monthly financial contribution by the amount equivalent to Tom’s supposed rent and one-third of our food expenses as a form of protest against the unilateral decision made by Evelyn. This sparked significant tension between us. She confronted me about the sudden decrease in funds, to which I explained my stance on being consistent with our original agreement, highlighting her deviation from it without mutual consent.

Consequently, Evelyn had to dip into our vacation savings to cover the shortfall, also curbing her personal spending significantly, which only added to her frustration. Accusations of financial manipulation were thrown my way, and she ventured to gain the support of Michael and Lisa, both of whom sided with me, insisting on the importance of upholding agreed-upon family rules.

Evelyn's decision and my response could be seen as a critical plot twist if this were to unfold in a reality show setting, likely provoking a polarized response from the audience. Viewers might side with her compassionate approach or might applaud the firm stance on agreed-upon family protocols.

Who do you think is right in this family disagreement?

Growing up, my life was shaped significantly by my parents' decision to become foster parents. At 34, I can recognize the admiration such a path deserves—they sought to provide a lifeline for children who desperately needed support and a stable home. Yet, through their benevolence toward others, I often found myself sidelined. They branded me as self-sufficient, someone who didn't require as much attention, which in reality meant that I often went unnoticed.

This sense of neglect extended to the smaller joys of childhood, such as gifts. Presents meant for me from my grandparents quickly became communal assets within our bustling foster home. However, my grandparents noticed this imbalance and shifted their approach by giving me experiences instead of tangible gifts. I have fond memories of trips to Disneyland with my paternal grandparents and exciting visits to New York City thanks to my maternal grandparents.

When presented with this solution, my parents attempted to redirect the funds set aside for these trips to household expenses, but I pleaded with my grandparents to keep things as they were. This was one of the few areas of my life where I felt I could retain some sense of personal priority.

By the age of 17, I had already moved out. I completed high school early and entered a trade—thanks to some help from my grandfather, a union member. It's been 17 years since then, and I've constructed a stable life for myself.

My parents, on the other hand, continue to struggle. The physical, emotional, and financial toll of caregiving for foster children has left them worn and in dire straits, despite the subsidies they receive. Recently, they reached out to me for financial help. However, I declined, knowing any assistance might likely be funneled towards the foster children still in their care rather than addressing their own needs.

In response, my mom expressed profound disappointment, lamenting that she expected more from me considering how they raised me. I couldn’t help but retort that from an early age, I largely had to fend for myself. Even my grandparents, who have always been supportive, now find themselves financially drained, partly due to loans given to my parents over the years.

My wife sympathizes with my standpoint but believes that my refusal may be too harsh. Meanwhile, my mom accuses me of harboring childhood resentments, and I’ve ceased communication with my dad, presuming he continues his old habits of repurposing my belongings for the foster kids.

In a hypothetical scenario on a reality show, this dynamic would likely stir a range of reactions from the audience. Some might sympathize with my decision to safeguard my financial stability and recognize my need for independence from a family dynamic that often overlooked my needs. Others might view my actions as vindictive or overly harsh, suggesting that family should support one another regardless of past grievances.

I am sick and tired of being the friend who is always left out, forgotten about or pushed to the side. my friends have a tendency to get together and not even send me a text to ask if I can join them. It seems like I am only ever included in plans if I am the one making the plans. and lately I have been offering ideas, and I keep getting shut down by everyone. it seems like they always have excuses, and it makes me wonder how much they even like me. after i have been making repeated suggestions about hanging out or doing something together, a bunch of my friends got together to go to a haunted house, and I didn't get a text from a single one of them. I found out today that they had all gotten together. it hurts a lot to be left out like this, when I try so hard. I really love and care about my friends, but when they do stuff like this all the time it makes me wonder if they even like me, or if they are just always annoyed with me. or if they keep me around to be a punching bag. two of my friends have a tendency to joke about me and make fun of me a lot. now, don't get me wrong, I am completely fine with joking around. I think it can be great in friendships, and bring people closer. however, it starts to hurt when I never hear anything nice from them. some days it seems like any time I do anything they have to pick on me for it. I always just laugh it off, but it makes me start to shut down so they will stop. the other thing is that sometimes the jokes they make are a little too real, or too far. and it seems like they are really taking digs at me disguised as jokes. this has a tendency to really hurt me and get under my skin. but I always just play it off and pretend to be fine because I have no idea how to bring it up to them without being scared that they will say that it's all just jokes and that I am taking it too personally. I like in a tiny tiny town in the middle of nowhere, so finding other people to be friends with just isn't an option. and sometimes my friends are awesome and they make me feel like part of the group, and like they really care about me. other times it feels like they are just annoyed and ticked off at me. so I have just come to the conclusion that I need to start being my own best friend. that way whenever they do stuff without me I don't have to feel left out because I can just do it by myself. and if I want to go do something, I can just go by myself. I live in an extremely tiny town, which makes it quite difficult to find anything to do. but I will figure something out some way. i was just wondering if anyone has any experience with learning to do things by yourself, and any ideas of things for me to do for fun. or if anyone has any tips on dealing with feeling left out. thank you for reading, and I hope you have an amazing day

I'm a 21-year-old girl, and have always had a tight bond with my elder sister, who's 25, despite our frequent disagreements. She's a bit of a perfectionist and tends to lash out when things don't align with her expectations. Recently, she reached out in the middle of the night as she started labor, requesting I care for her puppy. I agreed, and she painstakingly laid out detailed instructions, one of which was to ensure the puppy wore its safety harness while outside.

Complying with her instructions, I later took the puppy outside then back in. However, I didn’t remove his harness immediately upon returning. He dashed into the living room where my mother was engaged in a FaceTime call with my sister’s boyfriend. I finished removing the harness shortly thereafter, but it wasn’t quick enough. My sister, informed by her boyfriend of the slight delay in removing the harness, sent furious texts accusing me of neglecting her dog. Her outrage escalated to a phone call, during which she branded me as lazy and unreliable, and demanded my mother and I vacate her home. Furthermore, she decreed we would not see the newborn until we had regained her trust.

Around 2 AM, we left her place. I attempted to discuss the situation with her boyfriend at his arrival, only to be dismissed with a curt, “We’re having a kid, you don’t get an explanation.” That night, consoling a deeply distressed mother, I pondered over the potential repercussions of my sister's actions—her boyfriend missing crucial moments at the hospital due to her unfounded allegations, the impression my mom’s torment made on her in-laws, and the overall strain on family relationships.

The next morning, my sister called to apologize, attributing her overreaction to stress and hormones, and invited us to meet her baby. Although the visit proceeded without incident, she questioned my subdued demeanor. I expressed how hurtful her actions were, noting how her hostility and the subsequent eviction left a sour memory for all involved. Instead of acknowledging my feelings, she defended her actions, reiterated her offensive remarks, and asked me to leave. Our communication ceased thereafter.

I can’t help but reflect: if this familial drama unfolded on a reality TV show, would the audience be sympathetic to my predicament or view it as an overreaction? The public often relishes dramatic confrontations but also values strong familial bonds and understanding, especially during pivotal moments like childbirth. It's unclear how others might perceive our situation under the heightened scrutiny of a televised platform.

I am 38, male, and this is just a report, not a poem, not a cry, not a lesson, just a dump like on /vent because that is what this site is for. I wake up, I go to work, I fail quietly, I come back, I eat trash, I sleep, repeat, that is the system. I never had a girlfriend, not once, not even the fake high school one people lie about to seem normal. Women never looked at me like a person, more like furniture or a problem to avoid, and yeah I know you will say “it’s your personality” or “work on yourself” because that is the standard script, quoted endlessly like a broken motivational poster. I am not saying I deserve love, I am saying the data shows I never had it, and after 38 years the trend line is pretty clear. No close friends either, no one texting me first, no one asking how I am unless it is HR pretending to care. At work I suck, not in a dramatic way, just enough to always be behind, always be the guy who “tries” but never advances, and you know what happens to guys like that. People say life is about “small joys” and “gratitude” but that sounds like marketing language invented to sell books to losers like me. Objectively speaking, if you remove romance, social validation, and competence, what is left that makes this worth repeating every day.

I am not writing this to shock you, I am writing it because I am tired of pretending this is some deep mystery. Men like me are told to shut up and improve or die quietly, and women are framed as prizes we failed to unlock, which makes everyone worse. I can be rude about it because honesty is rude now. When you go decades without touch, without being chosen, without even being hated passionately, it does something boring to your brain, not tragic, just empty. People quote Nietzsche or Camus about meaning, like “one must imagine Sisyphus happy”, but Sisyphus at least had a story and an audience. I have a cubicle and a login. Therapy is another quote machine, more phrases like “reframe your narrative” and “challenge your assumptions”, as if this is a creative writing class and not a statistical dead end. Women don’t owe me anything, fine, but reality doesn’t owe me hope either, so why is hope mandatory. This is the part where someone says “it gets better” with zero evidence, or links a study, or tells me to lift weights, as if muscle mass fixes being invisible. I am not angry all the time, I am tired, which is different and more permanent; do you really think repeating an unwinnable routine counts as living.

Here is the clean version, stripped of drama and insults, like a lab note. Subject is 38, male, isolated, underperforming, unloved, future probability of change low based on past behavior. External incentives minimal. Internal motivation degraded. That is it. I am not standing on a bridge, I am sitting at a desk typing because typing fills time. People confuse questioning life with wanting to die, but those are not identical, one is philosophical and one is logistical. I can ask “what is the point of living” the same way someone asks “what is the point of this job” without planning to quit today. Still, if you are reading this, answer honestly, not kindly, not with slogans. If you had my stats, my face, my history, my absence of proof that effort pays off, would you continue out of principle alone. Or is life just something we keep doing because stopping would make other people uncomfortable. I read quotes, I read threads, I read success stories, and they all assume a baseline I never had. Maybe the point is just to run the clock until it ends, maybe there is no point and we are supposed to admit that, maybe meaning is a luxury item. I don’t know, and I am not asking for rescue, I am asking for accuracy. If the answer is “there is no point but you do it anyway”, say that. If the answer is “there is a point and you missed it”, say that too. I am detached enough to hear it.

I wanna try embroidery🧵🪡. It looks like a very beautiful and delicate art form🤩!! But... I work better via in-person lessons. And Las Vegas doesn't seem to have any classes😭!! I've looked through Michaels... Local websites... And even asked my cousin, "The Hobbies Queen" for help. No luck🥲! I'm not giving up... But with the way things are going... I might just have to rely on buying the materials and watching a You Tube video about it😮‍💨. Nothing wrong with that in general. It's just easier for me to learn in-person. Wish me luck trying to find an embroidery class in Las Vegas☺️🙏🏻✨🍀!

This is just a vent (tw mentions of sui**de)

I messed up last night. This whole week I've been going through a depressive episode and felt sui***al and I guess yesterday was my breaking point. I rushed to my room cause I wanted to be alone. My dad tried to talk to me and I started to cry so I turned my back cause I didn't want him to see my face, and he called me disrespectful. He told me to never cry cause its a sign of vulnerability and weakness but I can't help it. I rushed to the bathroom crying and locked the door cause I just wanted to be alone for a while, but he kept banging the door and yelling at me to get out. To sum it up, he tried to break the door down, and broke the glass near the door to enter, he yelled at me, I yelled back about how I've felt this way ofr 3 years and wanted to end my life (I just acted on my emotions without think and I regret it) I was called disrespectful, selfish and childish, and other kids have it worse than me (I already know that, which is why I feel even worse for feeling this way) my mom and sister tried to restrain me when I wanted to leave, leaving my arms sore (I literally just wanted to go to my room!!) What hurt the most is that I made them cry, even my dad had tear and I've never seen him shed a tear.

I'm not sui**dal right now and my emotions are in control, but I still feel alot like sh*t. My dad hasn't said a word to me and I'm to scared and ashamed to even look at him. My birthday is literally tomorrow and I've messed everything up. I hate it so much.

Pls read this.

It's now 2026. I'm gonna be 14 in February. I fucking hate this. The future, it's too unpredictable! Like, I can survive. I’m weird if I do my own thing. Who notices the cleaners or waitresses or maids? I’m gonna be okay because no one can hurt me, because they don’t notice me. Best thing I can also do is not go to college either, most successful people dropped out and went their own paths. I’m going my own path, just a slower one, of giving up the risky waters. No one swims in Mangalore seas, those who do are idiots, just wanting to play with their own life. Who even wants to learn about marine life, or history? Seriously, only history you learn from is this kind and how likable you are. I should care what others think, my dad’s wrong to say no to that. Who’d wanna learn about Vietnam or Thailand or India, most them are anyways mean, rude and like polluting the ground. Those who do doctorates for literal fish, to others, it’d be weird. I won’t be word nor trendy, just nothing. It’s easier than being both lanes, anyways. Most kids after realizing they can never be a cool kid from a weird kid soon chose the beige route, at least that’s still a color. You said I’m allowed to be a nobody, I can live with that forever, considering I already ate up 7 years. It’s not judgement, it’s grace on my part, just like giving up. I’m allowed to just be a no one. I can endure, people can sit with that. They don’t sing, “I’m a survivor, I’m not gonna give up” for no reason! I can manage. It ain’t even that bad. Humans are resistible. I can live with being nothing to others, be in routine. Unshakable but predictable routine. Many people live like that. You may say I’m 13, but trust me, I can be smart like that. I just need to remove my curiosity, that intrusive aspect of me to come out of my safe space and be hurt. Don’t go to college, wake up, pass school, form no friendships, eat, sleep, bathe, relieve myself, work in some small job till I finish whatever mortgage and rent I have until I’m 64, so it all over again from 18-64, assuming my work life lasts that long.

See! People are a liability! I can be me to me only! People can live long fulfilling less without these burdens. People really are hell, Sartre was right. I can be rigid, have my own fun life and be with no one, they’re worthless anyways. They all judge, so why bother looking even for one person if it doesn’t exist? You literally said, “Humans don’t need applause, but we do need some meaning. Meaning doesn’t have to come from people, but it has to come from somewhere. Fish, oceans, history, art, dolls, stories. Those are not liabilities. They are anchors.” I’ve had them all my life. I can live with them, make them my friends, since people are a waste. I may be able to survive this year, but I can thrive the rest by this routine! You said people are optional, so why bother with any kind of relationship? Most successful people don’t even have sustainable relationships with people! I can make with next year! I’m 13, I can deal with it. How am I even wrong to say people are hell? You said I’m allowed to not like people, so that means I can handle no one. They all suck anyways. If I want someone as a friend, it won’t matter because it won’t last. I just know it. It’ll be that way. I won’t be surprised by good person who stays because they don’t exist. That’s in movies only where someone is cool like that. Again, pure fiction. No matter how I act, nice or mean or quiet, I’m a nobody to them. It won’t last and it won’t matter. I hate seeing friend groups because they feel stupid. I’m a proud incel girl. I can be a fucking incel, I'm 13.5, it's a good fucking title for me.

See? People are a risk. I can live like an introvert. Work, eat, sleep 7 hours, watch some favorite stuff, draw, repeat. It’s a life many adults do anyways for a while. Look what traveling did to me, it made me sick. Only bad thing now is I’m going to a new home in a few months, which I have to convince my parents somehow I should stay here, my original home. If some real kids can convince their parents not to divorce, I can convince them to not leave and just have them you know, stay and enjoy their investment of the house, even though they spent money on it. I’m smart for saying moving is bad. The kids there will look at me weird, and even if I’m in the same school, I don’t care. New big neighborhood men’ means it’s a social death sentence for me. I’m allowed to stay at home. My original home is safe. You said I CAN not make any friends, so that means I CAN not seek out anyone unless it’s a doctor or anything, but driving, work people, friends, restaurant workers, nope. I’m not gonna drive, I’m not gonna go to college, or pursue any of my interests. Just be a cashier, it’s low stakes and nobody cares for me. Good. Good life. Then I can go home, draw, bathe, pay rent, eat dinner, and sleep. Be Yoshikage Kira, minus the murder aspect. Just have a quiet life and be the background guy forever. It’s easier. That’s my quest for stillness. I may want friends, but since life hasn’t given me any despite me changing, I just simply can’t get them, I’ll give that up and just study, just pass exams, somehow manage 9th grade in IGCSE from CBSE, somehow manage without my original tuition teacher, and just draw and watch stuff and walk in my house because it’s a villa, and even though it’s a big neighborhood, no. I don’t deserve to exist as myself, so I’ll just be the nobody’s of the world. I was nice, my classmates didn’t notice, I was mean, still. Quiet, still didn’t notice. I’d rather just leave at this point. Not life, but just being a person in society, just a person in outskirt city. I hate it when I see people smiling with friends because I know the truth, it’s not gonna last. Since nothing lasts, nothing matters. I’m 13 going to 9th in a bit, so this matters. The last thing to actually matter. Everything matters because we as humans have such short lives, despite everything being temporary. I’m 13, and in the next 10 years, I’ll live in the outskirts. I’ve already lived in the outskirts of school long enough, I’m used to it.

I don’t matter. No one liked me no matter how I acted. I just concluded I can be a wallflower forever. I’ve lived as one anyways long enough to get used to it being permanent. I’m a crazy diamond like Syd Barrett, eventually his reassignment was the reason his band succeeded. Only thing is at least they remembered Syd, who’d remember me and me where I was? My family won’t matter because when you’re an adult, you leave them behind. It’s what everyone does, no matter what dad says about “leaving if your job is also far away, but otherwise you can stay with them”. No. Just let me be still. Forever. I’ve died inside before I even got to see anything good, because it doesn’t exist. Now that we’re moving in a few months, it’s not a new leaf, it’s a new wasteland. A new bad land unless I stay behind in my home, which is 35 minutes away from the new place. Imagine the new kids there who are also disgusting monsters. They’ll only reject me because I know the truth, change is bad. Even before a child says hi to me, I need to role with an iron fist and fight them back with poisonous words, or push them if I have to. I don’t know, I’m scared of these freaks. My subconscious may want some peace, but we got to think logically about this. I’ve survived 7 years, I can survive the next of life. I’m not gonna stack now because I’m on a trip and I don’t see much kids unless they’re coming from school, which even then it disgusts me seeing them laughing together because they think it’s a good time that lasts for only 3 days.

My stupid subconscious may crave hope for one friend now that it’s a neighborhood, but I don’t like it. It’s proven wrong many times with horrid “SMALL TALK”, so I don’t believe it. I wish I had one person who would just leave me alone in this thought, and they’d agree. Too bad they’re not real. The Saya to me, the Fuminori. I wish I had a person who’d share this vision with me, and love me for thinking the same. They’d love me for hating this pathetic world, because they do too. I don’t care if it’s not healthy, if it isn’t, what’s the point of “health”? Humans are shits anyways. Why should I care if I want something better if it doesn’t exist? It’s like wanting a unicorn, it’s not real. Why search someone so fucking fake? My stupid self is that, stupid for wanting better, for believing they exist, for wanting to have another go and thinking that maybe moving a good idea. I’m tougher for saying it isn’t and being rigid. It’s immature of me to maybe look out for more, when there isn’t.

Too bad now in a few days I'm gonna go to a dumb dance class I only said yes to from mom is to please her. I don't believe I'm a good dancer, even fi the teacher said to mom I did an "advanced dance lesson" better than beginners. That's a fucking lie! I don't believe you because I don't believe myself! Those kids didn't laugh to seem respectful, they aren't being honest, they're trying to fake niceness. Just like fucking life. Where the pros treat the new guy with pity, I don't need fucking pity, I want people to berate me because that's honesty to me! And when someone hates the world and wants to burn it as much as I do, I'd be more than friends, because we share the same true vision of the "Earth". Too bad school itself is gonna start day after tomorrow, because guess what, there's the fucking rigged system! The ruler, the principal, may claim we are a united body, but we're all divided into cliques and crews, fuck her. I hope she suffers a painful death with HIV. Fuck the future, fuck the adults, and fuck anyone who isn't a Saya! Fuck!

All I want is your presence, not your presents.

Very rarely am I good with words, and this time may be no different, but I wanted to share my feelings from tonight. As I pack my apartment again, I think about the next steps and what is coming. I am moving to a larger space in a new area. Thankfully, I will still have friends and family nearby, but I feel so empty about the situation. I think about all the times I have moved in the past 10 years and how each time has been essentially me moving myself, alone, with no help (at least not from friends or family). I think about the move from New England to the South—wow, that was a big move, right? Why wasn’t anyone here to help me? When I moved from the South to New England, at least Dad went with me; he experienced the drive with me. So why didn’t anyone welcome me back? Was everyone happy I was going so far away? Why has no one come to visit? Why am I the only one trying? Is this what love looks like?

Now I am moving again, and my brother is coming to help. My brother and I have had a rocky relationship for years, but we have both matured immensely, and I am grateful for his friendship. I never thought we would be close. I am thankful that he has offered to help me move. I didn’t have to ask, but I made sure to tell everyone in the family. He’s the only one who offered.

Still, no one has visited. No one else offered. Why don’t my parents see how much it hurts that I have been back in the South for 9 months and not once have they reached out and driven to me? Why do they tell me they were coincidentally going to visit when I tell them I have plans for a weekend? Why didn’t they offer to help me move?

I have driven over 10,000 miles to see my family and set up the business, yet no one has even driven 10 miles to see me. My dad came all the way to Wichita (4 blocks from my new apartment) to pick up a friend’s child, but he can’t do that for me? Nana says that if anything were wrong and I needed help, he’d be here immediately, but why do I need to wait until I need help? I asked for help paying for a resume service, yet he made me feel like he wasn’t willing to help, only willing to “pay me back” for the driveway. Seriously?

Do they not know how it feels to call my brother and hear my mother in the background because she has visited? Are they closer? Yes. Do they have kids? Yes. But there is no excuse for not visiting a child over 9 months when they are only a few hours away. Hell, they didn’t visit for 7 years in Maine except when my brother and I FORCED them to get on a plane to visit me. We paid for the entire trip; Mom and Dad had to do nothing. Always citing money and time, they were able to buy all this fancy quilting equipment and build another building to expand out of their own pocket, yet they didn’t have time or money for me.

Why am I so much less important? Why did no one ask if they could attend my graduation for my Master’s degree? What do I have to do to make my parents happy or proud of me? Why do I care anymore?

Do they resent me for being gay? Lord knows I have learned not to bring anyone around, as I feel like it’s always a shit show. And then my mother sits me down to talk about how “she feels they have done a good job of accepting me being gay.” Why do my tears sting my skin every time I cry? What have I done to receive such treatment? What do I have to do just for them to try and meet me halfway?

I guess I really won’t get anywhere from this, but I wanted to type it out. I cry, it hurts, and I don’t know what to do to change it. I can’t have a healthy relationship with anyone because I don’t know what that looks like. I am broken. I have always been broken. Who am I?

All I want is your presence, not your presents.

I (F22) have been dating my girlfriend (F21) for 3 years.

🧡 We met 1-2 weeks before starting college, since we were going to be classmates. She was supposed to live in the dorms for free, but after 2 days, she hated it and invited herself to sleep over at my place (we barely knew each other). We hooked up that night - and she basically never left. Classic lesbian stereotype, I know.

🌈 At first, I hid from my parents that she was living with me since they were paying my rent and didn’t know her. After 2 months, we made it official. A few months later, she met my parents (they thought we were just friends) and they adored her. She came home with me every visit. After 2 years, I told them we were together, and surprisingly, they were super supportive - even got over their strong homophobia for her. Now they treat her like their own daughter, and my whole family loves her... even more than they love me, sometimes.

💼 She’s been a super supportive partner and has helped me a lot with my business. I honestly wouldn’t be where I am without her. But she doesn’t have a job, and her abusive parents don’t support her or even know about us. She lives off a small scholarship allowance and feels guilty for not contributing more. I got her a laptop, my dad got her a phone, but she refuses to let me hire her because she wants to earn her own money. I usually cover everything, and I don’t mind since my business does very well. We recently moved to another apt, and my parents still pay the rent for both of us.

💔 The truth is, I don’t think I ever truly loved her romantically. I was probably just scared of being alone in a new city and clung to her because we were both lesbians and colleagues. I mistook her vibe for something more masculine at first, but over time I realized she’s not really my type physically. I do love her personality - she’s emotional, artistic, and sees the world beautifully. I’d often find myself staring at other people, not fantasizing, just feeling a quiet frustration inside. In the first year we were very active se)(ually, but now I am forcing myself to do it. I'm not enjoying it.

🕳️ When I moved away for college, I was excited to live independently, but that never really happened. She moved in almost immediately, and we became co-dependent: always together, doing everything side by side. Now that we just finished college, I feel like I missed out on everything -freedom, partying, self-discovery. While others were out living, I was working nonstop on my business. I am succesful, I've even been on the news, but I feel empty, like I sold my soul for money. Sometimes, I think the only escape is death. I don't want to be in this relationship anymore, but I’m scared to leave. My parents love her and they’d never forgive me. They would never accept another girl, because SHE is the reason they stopped being homophobic.

🏠 I’ve been saving for a house abroad and told her it’s for both of us, but she hasn’t contributed financially because she doesn’t have a job. I’m not upset - most people our age aren’t making this much, but she constantly compares herself to me and feels like a failure. She has breakdowns because she can’t provide, even though most students don’t have it figured out yet. I tried encouraging her to freelance; she got one client and gave up. I have tons of business and investment ideas, but she won’t act on them. I can’t keep pushing her. I’m already exhausted from running my business and dealing with my own mental health issues.

🌍 I’ve always valued freedom, and marriage feels like a cage. I like being alone and dream of traveling the world. I could afford to do it now, but I can’t because she can’t afford it and feels guilty when I pay. I know she’ll get a job eventually and things might balance out, but for now, I’m sad my youth is slipping away. My past relationships were traumatic - one landed me in the hospital, another was a drug addict, one dug up her dead dog’s skull, and another cheated on me while I paid for everything because she was nearly homeless. This time, I chose someone kind and stable, not really my type, but safe. She’s never hurt me, but I’m still unhappy. And even though I know she’s not using me, I’m tired of always being the provider.

📱💬 I know you’ll judge me, and I don’t blame you. Last year, feeling lonely and needing a new friend, I started chatting with a masc lesbian on Bumble BFF. She had a girlfriend, so I saw her as a safe friend. She was adventurous, always traveling and doing extreme sports - basically the life I wanted. She wasn’t the issue... it was what she awakened in me. She was the version of myself I never got to be. We talked nonstop for months, and my girlfriend noticed. I felt happy texting the other girl - not se)(ually, just less lonely. My girlfriend got jealous, and I understood why, but I couldn’t stop. The girl broke up with her partner of 4 years and started dating around. I was interested in her stories because I was frustrated about my own relationship. She invited me to hang out, but my girlfriend asked me to cut contact, saying the other girl was flirting. I didn't tell my gf that that girl broke up with her partner, because I wanted to keep things safe. She eventually removed me from her following list and she unfollowed me, because I stopped replying to her texts, since my gf was mad.

💀 I want to be honest. I hoped we’d become best friends and maybe more. Some of our chats felt like flirting. She complimented me a lot, and we talked nonstop. After we started talking, I had a breakdown and told my girlfriend I didn’t love her and wanted to break up. She was devastated and she thought I was falling for that girl. I couldn’t break up for real because I worried about my parents and that my girlfriend would have nowhere to live. I told another time I wanted to break up, and she begged on her knees for me to stay. We’re stuck together for at least two more years because we’re doing our masters in the same city. I feel trapped and often think about su!cide as the only way out. The pressure from my parents, business, and her situation feels overwhelming.

💔 It’s been 1 year since I stopped talking to that girl, but I’m still frustrated my gf wouldn’t let me meet her. I think I developed an unhealthy obsession, hoping to run into her or reconnect. Now I see it was emotional cheating and wrong. I never even met her in person, so it was just lust stuck in my mind. Since then, my girlfriend lost trust in me and started trying to be more masculine, feeling like she was competing and getting easily triggered.

🚫 I’m stuck. Leaving my girlfriend now would ruin my relationship with my family, and she’d have nowhere to go. But staying makes me more depressed every day. I’m on medication and feel like my youth is slipping away. I regret not exploring more before her. I only slept with 2 women before. When I tried to break up, she begged me to stay and offered that I could sleep around while she waited but I refused because that wouldn’t be fair to her.

🪞I’m still dating her but feel guilty for leading her on. I’ve lost myself in this relationship and put on 10 kg. I hate the way I look. I wanted someone who would push me, but she’s my mirror. We even say the same things and act alike. We often leave the house messy because we’re both struggling mentally and isolated from friends. She had therapy for a while but stopped due to cost. Her therapist once told her that they knew the girl I talked to. It used to be one of their old patients but she was problematic. The fact that the therapist told my gf the confidential info about that other girl made me distrust therapy even more. Although I know people will say I need it.

Please tell me what you think about this situation. You can be harsh, because I know that what I did was not moral at all. I haven’t told any of my friends this, because I am afraid. All of our friends are common and they would think I am a s!lut. I have been keeping this inside for over one year. Thank you!