Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I'm pissed beyond words on how to describe my feelings on Amalya, Sanvi R., and Angelina. I'm mad and feel them inconsiderate, rude, selfish, arrogant, cocky. and I'm masking it. I want to punch a wall to make myself feel pain and not that anymore (not self harm). Damn them. WHY am I like this. A person who can't handle their own emotions and think they're helpful to others. What the fuck is my mindset. It was in gaga ball. I said that Nishank wasn't out and the others said that he was. The girls then just said "You're just mad you got out" like... what the actual literal piece of shit. You're just a bitch, bastard and someone who needs to be humbled. Sanvi R was so shy, and now she's so fucking mean. Where did it come from. OH WAIT! I know... IT WAS THOSE FUCKING GIRLS. Even Deetya doesn't make me feel that anymore. In fact, she never made me feel that deep. And all those fuck ass girls are going to say is "You're overreacting" and when I walk in the hallways, I know they're going to talk shit about me behind my back. I'd rather not deal with this shit, but I can't handle it. I was actually punching a wall just to silence my pain mentally and emotionally. And that smug grin on Sanvi R's face. Damn her. Damn them. And worst, I know later, I'm going to blame myself for it. It'll make me insecure, upset at myself. Question Who I am and what I am. I hope high school never brings me this. Shit... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

In case you don't get it, that's me being pissed, upset, unsure and doubting my life and whether I should live and then I'm masking it because I know that others will just ask "are you okay" and I know I'm not, but no one understands you more than your emotions. Not even yourself—your emotions. You may say you don't feel bad, but your emotions know what you truly mean.

ok. so like. how do I tell them. we're on good terms already, I don't want to ruin it. we joke about it all the time, making fun of it. I feel embarrassed every time we make fun of it, knowing damn well I'm in that position. God I hate this.

if you see this no you don't btw, you know who you are

My dad has been struggling through some mental health issues for a while and we have been doing our best to support him (my mother and my siblings ). However my younger sibling caught my dad cheating yesterday night as he was calling and texting with another lady. My parents have been married for around 30 years. I feel like throwing up. My dad isn’t a bad father, we always looked up to him because of his strong personality but none of us can even look at him now anymore. He keeps apologizing and keeps saying that he did it because of his mental health issues but what kind of an excuse is that? He broke all of our trust, we never expected this from him. How does one even cope with this? All we have been doing is crying and feeling numb the entire day. I feel so bad for my mom, we can’t even leave as we are financially dependent on him.

What a nice father’s day I guess.

I don’t even know why I do it. Like, every time someone actually tries to be my friend, I just… ruin it. It’s not like I want to be alone, but for some reason, I always end up pushing people away. At first, things are fine, we talk, we laugh, they seem cool, and then my brain starts freaking out. What if they don’t actually like me? What if I say something stupid? What if I annoy them and they just pretend to be nice? And then, instead of just going with it like a normal person, I start acting distant, stop replying to texts, avoid them in class, and before I know it, they move on. And I pretend like I don’t care, but deep down, it sucks. It’s like I’m stuck in this loop where I want friends but also push them away the second they get too close.

It’s not even like people are mean to me or anything. I see them hanging out in groups, making plans, posting about it online, and I wonder what that even feels like. To just be able to connect with people without overthinking every little thing. When someone sits next to me in class and actually starts a conversation, I panic. My brain starts screaming say something normal!! don’t be weird!! and then I either go completely silent or just say something so awkward that the conversation dies right there. And then I feel even worse. It’s like, I could be making friends, I should be, but something in me won’t let it happen. Like I don’t deserve it or something.

And then when I actually do let someone in, I mess it up in a different way. I start testing them without even realizing it. Ignoring texts to see if they’ll double text. Cancelling plans just to see if they really wanna hang out. Being all moody and distant to see if they’ll put in the effort to ask what’s wrong. And if they don’t? Then I tell myself see? they don’t actually care. But like, why would they? Why would anyone wanna keep trying with someone who keeps shutting them out? It’s not fair to them. And it’s definitely not fair to me, because in the end, I’m the one who ends up alone.

I keep thinking maybe it’s just safer this way. Like, if I don’t let people in, they can’t hurt me. I don’t have to deal with the drama, the fights, the feeling of someone just getting bored of me and leaving. But then I look around and see everyone else with their inside jokes, their sleepovers, their dumb little traditions, and I realize I’m missing out. Even when I’m in a crowded room, I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. And I hate that feeling. I hate watching from the sidelines, pretending like I don’t care when I really do. But at the same time, I don’t know how to stop being like this.

So yeah, why do I push people away? I wish I knew the answer. Maybe I’m scared of rejection, maybe I just don’t trust people, maybe I’ve just been alone for so long that I don’t even know how to let someone in anymore. But whatever the reason, I’m tired of it. I don’t wanna wake up one day and realize I spent my whole life shutting people out just because I was scared of getting hurt. I wanna be better. I just don’t know where to start.

I feel fake sometimes like life isn't real in short episodes sometimes a few times a day the most. but I don't know why I feel like this. one second I'm fine just living the next I'm convinced nothing is real that I'm not real. it's really scary. but I don't think I'm describing it well so imma cut this short.

sincerely,

melody (13, f)

He should change his name , give me clues and also give me specific clues so I will know it is him hahahaha

Look at this as well “more of my traumatic experiences” for better understanding and I just need to know.

So uh… yeah. I think my father is abusive…? Like not anymore I think..? But he does yell a lot and is quick to anger, even though he wasn’t here for 6 years? Just mentally- he was physically here but… I don’t think sitting in the same place for 6 years counts.

So I’ll paint the picture. 8 year old girl walking home from school, house filled with yelling, door creaking open. So I open the door, I hear yelling..? A bit of crying and pleading..? And a sharp smack. So I immediately run up the stairs in my 8 year old mind. I get to the top of the stairs.

I’m at the top of the stairs, bag sliding off my shoulders. There it fucking lies. This fat piece of shit slapping my mother, MY FUCKING MOTHER. THE WOMAN WHO IS MAKING SURE WE AREN'T HOMELESS. I’m scared, nervous, angry, confused, and I felt an urge. A urge to kill him. A want to see him bleed out there, him gutted stuck in a ditch. I mean.. he used to be a truck driver after all, it’s well deserved. But no, I’m a literal child. But I wasn’t weak. I’m strong. I’m strong enough to keep my mom safe.

I saw my mom’s teary face, hands clasped infront of her chest. My dad’s- no. This fucking spawn of satan hitting her in the face. Her face red, family photos on the wall laughing in my fucking face like a joke. My mom said, “Oh my god! (name)go to your room!” I listen, I’m a fucking 8 year old, I listen to my parents, I wasn’t a bad kid. Right? Just saw something.

My family are big on surprises🥳!! But thanks for Amazons new policy... The private lists when shopping aren't there😱! So, let's say I wanna buy my cousin an F1(race car sport) T-shirt from Amazon as a surprise... He'd see what I bought thanks to Amazon getting rid of the anonymity of who's buy the item and what item is being bought😭!!

This s*cks man🫠!!

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I feel so much anger. Am I really doomed to stay in the groups I’m in? I mean, if I end up in a group I’m already part of—say, a family group—am I condemned to be stuck with them forever? Is there really nothing I can do to break away? Do I just have to get used to it out of inertia? This worries me deeply.

I admit it’s hard for me to write because I come from a social network that censored truly beautiful texts I wrote to let off steam—something I found incredibly unfair. It made me feel completely lost when it comes to using that platform. My intention was to express myself and structure my thoughts—focusing on that structure—without really considering others’ views. The point wasn’t to stay trapped within those external conceptions, but to develop something from what I was expressing. I just wanted to say this in case anyone wanted to offer their perspective.

Anyway, ever since that experience on that social network, I’ve felt trapped. Venting is what helped me break away from my family, to carve out a safer space both within and outside that context. That’s why I say I express and transcend. Venting gives me a holistic view of things without having to exclude any terrain. But I realized something: I think I’m normalizing things about my family. I feel like I’m using my venting to smooth over rough patches caused by behaviors that made me angry. It’s like I’m helping to re-establish those relationships in a “normal” space—a space I try to maintain without digging too deep. I feel like that has consequences, but I don’t quite see what they are yet.

It’s hard to structure my ideas in this environment—it’s different from what I’m used to, just like that other platform was. The fear of censorship is still there. Those posts were removed for no reason, or at least I never got an explanation. I followed the same rules as other posts I saw there. I’m furious about it. In fact, it makes me feel like the outside world somehow wants to push me back into my family setting. And whether it’s about family or not, people always say you have to break away on your own terms, not because someone tells you to. Otherwise, it could turn into a tragedy—it’s such a heavy burden. There’s this girl—I'll admit—who told me she feels trapped in a group and doesn’t know how to get out. In her case, the group is actively trying to make her leave her family, creating a barrier due to past circumstances that now prevents her from reconnecting. That happened a long time ago, and I’ve kept it inside ever since. I just wanted to express it.

I don’t want to meddle in that girl’s life. I feel like I’ve already left my family space behind—I did so a long time ago. And my experience with her only helped confirm it, especially after going through some very intense interactions with my closest relatives. The closeness we had only pushed me to create more distance, and that made our superficial routines of togetherness even more unbearable. So when the time comes for me to leave, it won’t be entirely bitter—there will be something sweet in it too. This is especially relevant if I ever get sick and we have to interact again. I know that kind of interaction will be unpleasant for me, because it creates tension and unwanted closeness with my relatives—those who used to take care of me. So in a way, if I do fall ill, it would trigger a change in their routine. And I think they would, maybe subconsciously, begin to appreciate the idea of me moving on to a place where they can’t or don’t have to interfere. That would open the door to my independence at last.

I feel sorry for this girl. Still, I think I’m ready to defend the principles of helping her—offering her a fishing rod rather than a fish, so she can catch her own. At the time I met her, I think she was open to it because her need was great, though I believe that need was buried deep due to how embedded she was in her group. I had stopped reacting impulsively and disrespectfully, breaking her routines without warning—these were the patterns she used to destabilize people, myself included. Her group absorbed her completely, and she shaped her environment around that. In short, maybe I can support her.

I just needed to say all of this. I don’t feel particularly skilled at writing. I posted eight times. Maybe the way I wrote had something to do with it—perhaps I wasn’t careful enough in how I structured things. But I can’t focus on that right now. I need to express myself freely if I want to sort out my thoughts. I need to release all this mental weight and reshape it through structured writing, so I can, as I said, transcend it—and that helps me find order in my mind. What hurts is that this was already my second attempt to engage with that platform. And once again, it highlighted how hard it is to express oneself freely—which, ironically, reminds me of how much I need to express myself freely. Otherwise, I’m just crawling through a dark tunnel, getting buried alive or hitting a wall I can’t break through.

I also like when a space doesn’t allow too much outside interference—it helps me feel like there are steady receivers out there, even if the way I express myself is different. I know that’s not realistic in the real world, where we talk face-to-face, not through digital platforms. But this goes back to what I said earlier—it’s so hard to break away from the past. If something from the outside knocks me down, I risk being dragged back into my family’s orbit. And I don’t want that. I have to be very careful about where and how I express myself—so I can see where the boundaries are and navigate through whatever life throws at me.

Apologies if this came out a bit disorganized. After all, this is a vent—a need to breathe, to unload what’s suffocating me and leave it somewhere, so I can move on to other thoughts. That’s how forgetting works, as good ol’ Freud would say.

I feel like everything's strange since she's been in my life—well, them. Everything's strange. I feel like I can't write calmly. I'm afraid of straying from the norm they want. When I post things on my social media where they're not present, I feel like they're watching me. Also, when I write, I feel like they're pressuring me to keep me insistent when I write, and so they can accuse me of being pushy, obsessive, or something like that.

I don't feel good around her. Her boyfriend is an arrogant person who likes to make others feel bad, and he's also extremely violent, and about things that connect with his past and aren't really a topic of conversation. With her, I feel like every time she has the chance to criticize me for something, once I'm comfortable, she just does it; first she gives in, and then she leaves, pretending to act in ways that keep me quiet or keep me unaware of the issue.

I don't know why these people wanted to associate with me. I feel the hugs from her boyfriend are absolutely fake. Once, I felt like she pulled me in for a hug, and I felt like she was going to accuse me of being a stalker, a pervert. These people really don't give me a good feeling.

I was with her once and said goodbye, thinking she was going to come with me, but no, it turned out she left with her work group. However, when I said goodbye to them, they displayed a strange, absorbing silence. They gave me the impression they were upset with me because of a possessive spirit. Frankly, I acted like nothing was happening, but it really seemed strange to me. Added to this is the fact that several of them, the women in that work group, seem extremely expressive and confident, leaving it up to you to decide whether they're looking for something or not. More than once, I half-assedly tried to get closer to see what the outcome would be, only to be met with rejection, which I dodged. Of course, this group likes to provoke when something gets out of order, invading the normalcy with which they treat you. That order consisted of everything regarding its members being consensual. For God's sake, it's a work group! How can they pretend to be like that?! They seem like those typical dysfunctional families, who are meddlesome in everything related to their members, and like things the way they like them, so as not to lose profits.

The disorder was palpable. Furthermore, that girl liked to encourage her boyfriend to get into situations that always bordered on the limits, provoking others, while being complacent when it came to coworkers. It seemed that her bosses, somehow, maintained the situation or had gotten used to it.

I also didn't like that girl was insinuating things about her relationship, saying that things were going badly, and at the same time treating her as if he were her husband or something. On top of that, she expressed that her environment put too much pressure on her; I saw her numerous times.

What I found in those people was a complete disaster. A total disaster. I don't want them in my life. They are invasive, they provoke others, they push boundaries, and no one does anything to prevent these situations. What this seems to me is a group of victims, who also like to have order in everything around them, with everything they interact with, typical of victims. Furthermore, this is at a prestigious university. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The overload, due to the excesses, is becoming degrading to me. I have to get away from all these people immediately.

I will definitely leave some things behind, however, I will not be in a place where this behavior is encouraged. Besides, it was the university where I studied. I wondered, how could they have ruined it like this? For me, it was practically a luxury, even though I am Catholic. And it is also one of the best in the country. This had to be a nightmare. I wondered, "Where were the priests?" Besides, if the place where I worked, and where I observed the scenes with her boyfriend, was the library, what were they like in other places that are less important to students? I feel like there's no room for peace there, no way. I wanted to have a good time, to be comfortable, but under these relationships, under these people, it's impossible because I have to move as they please. I understand why they chose to associate with me, with extreme kindness. For me, my beloved university, being that library where I liked to study and it was the best place for that, was completely lost.

I felt each of those employees using their positions purely to socialize, instead of using them to work. She sometimes neglected her responsibilities; I had to remind her of her duties. The most horrible thing is that her boyfriend was a sexist... I honestly wanted to die. I can't believe what I witnessed.

I have been having a hard time recently. I either get along really well with my roommate or we argue. And just know she was talking about doing something irrisponsible, so I told her what I thought about it, and then she said in a somewhat mocking tone 'um respectfully, have you done this for five years, I didn't think so, you don't know what your talking about.' so I said fine then don't talk to me about this stuff then. We are not good roommates, and we never will be, we are complete polar opposites.

But I feel angry, frustrated and upset all at the same time.

How do I keep peace? Cause I can't even politely ask her to do something without her getting mad

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?

Every week, my close-knit circle of friends, which includes eight of us, gathers for our regular Dungeons & Dragons session at our friend Charles's place. He's the Dungeon Master and has a fantastic gaming set-up that makes our adventures seamless. Notably, Charles recently had his fiancée move in with him. She's pretty cool overall; however, she doesn't share our interests and hasn't quite meshed with our group yet. Nonetheless, in an effort to connect with Charles's hobbies, she's started attending our gaming nights, though she doesn't play—she mostly watches and stays occupied with her phone.

Charles owns a specially designed gaming table with a recessed center which lets us keep our gaming paraphernalia out without having to pack up every time. The table's design requires us to lean in or stand to move our characters on the board. Now, I happen to be on the busty side, and leaning over the table can get uncomfortable after a while. As a workaround, I’ve adapted by resting my chest lightly on the edge of the table when managing my character. This doesn't accentuate anything—it merely alleviates discomfort. This has been my solution for months without any comment or issue from anyone.

However, last week, amidst our gaming session, Charles’s fiancée unexpectedly lashed out. She accused me of deliberately displaying myself and commanded rather rudely that I "put away my boobs since no one cares." This comment left me, and everyone else, bewildered initially until she pointed out what she found offensive. Her reaction stifled the evening's fun, and we all decided to conclude the night prematurely. The disagreement escalated, and now she's so upset with me that she doesn't want me visiting their home anymore. I apologized and tried to explain my reasons, even mentioning that I’ve planned a breast reduction soon, but she still called me derogatory names and insisted Charles cut ties with me. This situation puzzles me since this was something done inadvertently and solely for my comfort—something I even do unconsciously at home.

Thinking about whether or not being in a situational reality show might change things, it's curious how this type of misunderstanding could have been perceived. Would the audience see the innocuous nature of my actions or would they sympathize with Charles's fiancée? In the world of reality TV, small dramas can sometimes get blown out of proportion, potentially painting me in a negative light or maybe, making her appear overly sensitive.

So you insult me, don't let me speak, threaten to harm me because you're not able to have a normal conversation and i'm the arrogant one with my head up my butt? Really?

basically my dad passed away almost two years ago (july 18) and the only time i have visited him was when we buried him.

he died of a heart attack cause he was drunk at the beach when it was hot. he had a drinking problem for as long as i can remember but it was particularly bad the year he passed.

i remember that back then i had just started high school. between all the shit he was pulling (i wont list them but it is pretty bad) and puberty i got very hateful and even got into drugs and hanging out with the wrong people. i really hated him back then, because i felt like he was all that was wrong with the family (very untrue).

now that ive matured and healed a little, i wanna visit him. all along, i never really hated him. i love him and i hope he knew that when he passed.

also im sober too, my drugs phase thankfully didnt last long

when he was sober, my dad was a chill guy. although i didnt get to see him sober a lot, it pissed me off how good his potential as a father was.

after a while, i grew to understand the dynamics of my family that led him down this path. he did bear a part of the blame, but ive come to understand that the alcohol was just his way of coping.

when drunk, my dad once said that when he dies, he hopes i will visit his grave because he wants to bear my 'beautiful voice'.

the reason why i have gone yet is because i didnt feel ready to fully accept the fact that hes really gone and isnt coming back. i have so many regrets that i cant even list them all

i really wanna go, but i dont know what i would say.

i love you dad, if you can see me. i miss you more than i thought was possible