Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

omg can't believe i'm writing this but ya here we go: why's it so hard to stop loving someone who just doesnt care? like dude's not even nice. all my friends are telling me he's such an asshole and sometimes when I really think 'bout it, i kinda see what they're saying. but then i'll be out somewhere and see a dog doing something cute or some random thing that reminds me of him and it's like boom, i'm back to square one, missing him like crazy 🤦‍♀️ so what's the deal with love anyhow?

am i broken lol?! i dunno if its cause im 19 or just dumb but it's like my brain gets it (he doesnt give af) and my heart's sitting there going la la la happily brain checkmate. do any of u ever feel like that? being torn between what everyone around you says is no good for u and what ur own stupid feelings keep nagging you about? help 😰 honestly tho, how on earth do you stop loving someone before your whole life starts to revolve around them by default, ugh.

Sometimes I wish I could cry. Sometimes I think that would make me feel better. Sometimes I feel like I numbed my emotions too much to the point where I don’t feel much. I grew up neglected and manipulated and isolated. When I was 11 my parents had gotten divorced and my mom took us away from my dad. She had left because she couldn’t take his shit anymore. I came back after a week because he promised a life of luxury and stuff I’ve always wanted. As a kid I went and stayed but all he did was work. Which as a kid I understood he had to do. But what I didn’t understand was how that messed me up later down the road. Grew up estranged from extended family and barely any friends. I shutdown for three years in middle school and no one knew what was happening at home . I just survived and went to school. High school I was barely coming out of my shell. As an adult I’m slowly getting better but there was a lot I didn’t learn. So much I missed out on. All these expectations from people I look up to. I’m a hyper self aware person. I struggle to retain helpful information. I have to hear something ten thousand times or experience something painful before I understand. I didn’t know until 10 years later that he was a manipulator, liar, cheater, and self centered.

so, i just broke up with my girlfriend like an hour ago and wow, it sucks. we were together for almost two years; it's such a weird feeling to be without her now. the thing is, she cheated on me and that's why I had to end it without a shred of doubt in my mind. it's not like i didn't see some signs but finding out the truth hit harder than i ever imagined. you know how people always say 'trust your gut?' well, they’re onto something there.

i thought we'd built something solid and meaningful, yet here I am questioning everything about our relationship and what’s next for me. we shared so much, the good times were really good but man, this betrayal feels heavy. It’s like having cold water thrown over you. every memory seems tainted and i feel lost right now; who knew something could sting this bad? funny thing is she'll probably move on like nothing happened, while i'm here trying to piece things together one thought at a time.

i just made this account to rant about how i cannot seem to stop thinking about this guy. we will call him alan.

i am a 25 y/o f. i have been in the most amazing relationship with my fiancee for the past year and a half. he is perfect you guys, and he treats me like a queen. i love everything about him.

since i was 18, there has been this guy who i met when i was in high school. we would talk occasionally and i eventually developed feelings.. was it lust? maybe. i was 18, fresh out of high school, naive, and i thought talking to an older man was the sexiest thing ever. so i was over the moon. i was naughty.

and then i find out he's married. we cut communication there. he even has KIDS. after i found out, we both decided to stop. we were just friends on social media where we would like each others' posts eventually. alan and i did not speak. i got into a very serious relationship, which ended in the worst way possible, and i was single for about two years. alan and i STILL did not talk.

i eventually fall in love one more time, with my now fiancee. guys, i need you to understand how serious i am when i say this: he is everything i ever wanted in a man. he lets my sister live with us (my family situation isnt the best right now) and supports me in every single decision. i have never been loved this strongly. i feel like people would kill to have the love i have. and i am not saying that to show off, i just want to make people understand that this love is STRONG.

well, alan recently got a divorce and decided to message me. he knows i'm with somebody else. i am just so frustrated because this has gone on for almost 8 years. and i know i should be stronger and put an end to it but how and WHAT exactly am i putting an end to? i have never dated, kissed, had sex, or anything with alan.

timing is so funny and it is never, ever right. and i am such a strong believer that if the timing is not right, it is just not meant to be.

i have decided to completely block and remove alan from my life i feel like this is coming across completely differently than i want it to, but it is a very bittersweet feeling. he is part of my book, a chapter in my life even if it was small and not significant AT ALL. but that is still a part of me and of my history. my fiancee deserves this. i deserve this. hell, maybe alan deserves it too.

i am feeling nostalgic today! it is time to turn the page. i will look forward with anticipation and excitement to my future, my wedding, my family.. i just needed to get this off my chest, because i did not want to hold it in anymore!!!!

My wife is currently a teaching assistant for 7th grade while she's in college, aiming to become a full-time teacher. During summer, she enjoys volunteering at a camp for special needs students, which has never been an issue as our schedules matched. However, with COVID, I'm now working from home on different hours, and the camp is short on counselors. Lately, she's been asking me to help out in the mornings before my work starts, but I've been saying no because I prefer to relax before my job as a web designer.

This morning, after she asked again, we ended up in a heated argument. I told her that her volunteer "work" doesn't count as real work since she's not getting paid, and I'm the one bringing in money. I don't want to waste my energy on something that doesn't benefit us financially, especially when we have bills to pay.

She texted me saying she's disgusted with my behavior and plans to stay with another counselor at the camp for a few nights to think things over. Am I wrong here?

Imagine if this whole thing was on a reality show, how do you think people would react? Would they see my point or side with her?

this is my experiences

4 am in the bathroom

The door locked

Don't let anyone in

Banging your head against the wall

Tears streaming down your face

The red river dripping from the wrist to floor

The pain intoxicating, pulling you in

Until you feel numb

Each mark deeper and deeper

No one must know

You feel the shame and guilt wash over you

You hide away

Long sleeves in the summer

"Come on take off your hoodie it's warm"

Then they find out

The screaming, the fighting

The arguing

The cycle repeats itself

4 am in the bathroom

The door locked

Don't let anyone in

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

I feel like no one is there for me—to listen, to read me, to write to me, or even to be open to talking with me. I feel like, in my environment, I’m just an extra burden. And if that’s the case, then I feel completely pushed aside by everyone. How could I not want to look for another place? I have to face it: I don’t belong here. That’s it. I need to find somewhere else. Period.

I’m tired of my environment refusing to admit it. We’re not compatible—and we never will be. We’ve only lived causing each other headaches, acting out power struggles to avoid admitting it, but all that’s brought is war after war. It’s time for me to leave. Maybe not physically, but mentally, emotionally. I can’t take these useless conflicts anymore—they’re destroying our ability to coexist. My presence here, their acknowledgment of me, has only made life more fearful.

It’s time to go, once and for all. I feel like I have the chance, and I’m going to take it. We’ll all be safer this way. Maybe there will be a time of imbalance, but it’s either that or keep living in fear. Those who manage to get through it will be okay—and those who don’t, well... at least everyone will have searched for peace. That’s what matters most to me now—finding peace, no matter what.

There are things we have to leave behind, and ironically, that includes the place we were born. I have nothing left here—absolutely nothing. All I see is destruction and more destruction. Why keep denying it? I don’t want to be part of this anymore. I feel like I’m encouraging my relatives to become something like criminals—just as they do to each other. Luckily, we haven’t crossed the line that would get anyone arrested or reported, but we’re getting close. And that’s not the goal. I have to face it: my presence here—someone not suited to this environment—is just harmful. I can’t deny that anymore.

There’s nothing more painful for me than realizing I’ve been a source of harm and pain. And the worst part is, I couldn’t do anything before—but now I feel like I can. And I’m proud of that. I can give everyone a calmer life. Yes, let’s admit it—they’ll be better off without me here. I’ll be better off leaving, because in doing so, I’ll have truly supported them. I’ll be repaying everything they’ve done for me. It’s the greatest thank-you I can offer—the most meaningful one. What good are gifts or fake kindness? They don’t help anymore. People feel it, even if they don’t realize it.

I feel like I’m fulfilling a moral obligation, in the end. A civic duty, even—one that supports a healthier society, whether that means staying or stepping away. It’s what I have to do.

What hurts, though, is realizing that the solution to my problems with this environment isn’t in the environment itself—it’s somewhere else. I wish it were here, so I could embrace that resolution and feel proud of it. But the truth is, it never was. Trying to force that belief only led to disaster. It’s what brought us to this point—where we hate each other, deeply. All because we tried to stay. We have to face it: this environment is filled with disconnected people who pretend to bond just to deny the truth. There’s nothing between us. There never was—barely even between parents and children.

I wish it had been different. I always believed that teamwork was the answer. But the problem is... there’s no team. You can’t count on something that doesn’t exist.

Why did this life have to be mine? Why couldn’t this have happened to someone else? Why live with this discouragement? Why does this transition have to be like this? Why do I have to leave this environment just like that? And yet—it feels like inertia. My mind just goes there... because there’s more calm. That’s it. I think deep down, that’s what we’re all searching for—peace and calm. And in a way, my own environment has pushed me toward it. It’s something that’s just out of everyone’s hands.

Then come the questions:

What will I live in that new environment? Will they try to change me? Will I become someone else? Will I forget the place I came from? What will happen to them once I’m gone?

There’s so much I can’t control. I just know this: I’m in transition—and I never thought it would be like this.

It's actually so stupid how low I've actually stooped to. Just very recently all of the school stress and fear of criticism from friends (plus their hurtful jokes) has made me reach a new low. I was really trying not to ever do this, but I did. I just one day decided to find that one box cutter in my pencil case and try it out on my arm. The reason I even did it was to actually take away attention from another wound I had in the moment. Though somehow I would've thought I'd feel bad, but i didn't. Instead I just felt weird and dazed. The plan was to just do it that once, yet it somehow turned into more. I let the ones on my arm heal, since they weren't even that deep, and I moved on to one of my thighs. At first it was just only a small spot, and somehow with little time in just a week, it grew to both of my upper thighs, even a try on the inside of my ankles. Though the wounds may not be deep, there's many new with each day, that sting in a way that feels unfamiliar yet familiar. It's hard to stop doing it now. Even more with upcoming important stuff like exams, events and applying for schools, which all stress me out so much. I mean I'm 15, and I feel like such a loser for doing this as a way to get some sort of relief. It feels like I don't even qualify to do this, since I have a pretty normal life, except for a father, who is absent most times for work. It feels as if I'm mocking others who do it, even if I might not be, especially with one of my friends having done this sort of stuff for so long with family problems and all. It doesn't help that I feel more guilty when thinking of this friend actually having struggles and like almost a reason to do it, though that feels rude and offensive to say.

I feel so stupid for this to the point I had to get this out to somewhere. Even worse is that the trunks I was planning on using on top of my swimsuit for summer, are in fact, too short to cover the evidence up well. I dread the day I have to get exposed to this friend or anyone close to me. I should now probably go and prepare more for my math exam then.

Yes very random i have wanted a tablet since 2022!! My parents say they can get it for me but I don’t think that’s happening. Rn I can’t afford the regular $800+ iPads so is temu an option? So I just want to use the tablet for drawing!(and animating!) drawing on my laptop and phone hasn’t been very comfortable..

lately ive realized that i avoid opening up to the people around me about my mental state and it has been damaging my relationships (duh). ive been dealing with trauma from an SA that happened a long time ago that i just recently came to terms with and in doing so, i relapsed in smoking. (i had been smoke free for a year and a half)

i feel like my friendships lack depth.

i just recently opened up to my mom about the SA and the smoking and was pleasantly surprised with how loving and understanding she was and how i no longer felt like a stranger to my own mother, so im wondering if maybe i should open up to my friends more.

my dad passed away one year ago and a half and i realized that if my friends hadnt seen that on my mom's facebook, i would have probably never even told them that my dad passed.

i used to struggle with SH in the past and when coming to terms with the SA, i relapsed but only once (since i chose smoking over SH because i thought it would harm me less). i have visible scars on my thighs and left wrist. (the ones on my wrist are 2 years old but they were deep so theyre visible) they're not wounds anymore, they're quite literally scars. my skin is very pale and the scars are noticeable. thats why im often dressed in baggy, oversized clothes even in summer. now that i think of it, i dont think my friends every saw my arms, or any other part of my body other than my head and my hands.

im just so closed off to anyone around me and it pisses me off, but im so scared of being perceived as vulnerable or weak. all i do is smoke cigarettes and (p rarely i will admit) weed and shut up about my problems.

i was just reflecting on why i feel so isolated from everyone and why all my friendships lack depth and i think this is it.

*i just want to note that i didn't say hate, this sister of mine would always say she hated me and my parents so i avoid using the word as it can be kinda triggering*

I feel like a bad person because i dont like my sister (A). A is 2 years younger than me and has a twin sister (B).

A has always caused many issues in my life. When we were younger she would hit me and B, and sometimes even my parents. It got better for a while but just over a year ago it got bad again. She would get mad at me, B, and my parents for the tiniest things. There have been several instances where she was throwing a fit in the car while my mom was driving and she GRABBED THE STEERING WHEEL, thankfully we never got in a car crash.

A has been very sensitive from a young age, and when she get angry she normally goes through a few phases.

1. Yell at the person who made her mad (this usual goes on for a good 10 minutes)

2. My mom threatens to take away something from A (usually her phone)

3. A pleas with my mom to give her back said item (she will scream "please i'll do anything" for 5 straight minutes and when my mom finally tells her what she can do to make it up she will scream "ill do anything else" 😒)

4. A storms off to her room

5. A lays down on the ground in her bedroom and screams bloody murder while kicking her bedroom door.

6. A gets hurt from kicking the door

7. A screams for my dad to come and help her because she is "hurt"

8. My dad ignores her for a good 5 minutes until the screaming gets too annoying

9. My dad goes to As bedroom and tries to open the door (she locked herself in her room)

10. My dad opens the door with a butter knife and proceeds to have a conversation with A

A also has a lesser maturity than me and B so it tends to be more difficult to hang out. Because of all this anxiety and stress caused by A it isn't uncommon for me and B to huddle in my bedroom with a bunch of snacks and vent to each other about A. Me and B also do other things when we hang out but that is what brought us closer together (B also used to hit me, but she's chill now).

A has continually reminded us to tell her if me and B are hanging out.

(I want to mention that me and B hang out with A a lot, so it's not like we are icing her out of anything)

But if me and B have a secret convo in my bedroom without A and she finds out suddenly she is screaming at us about how she hates us and doesn't even want to hang out with us. This also makes it particularly unappealing to hang out with A.

A is a loner, she has friends but she rarely hangs out with any of them outside of school. A is also very fond of "chilling". A's definition of chilling is not letting me or B invite friends over, no chores or cleaning up her room, and no family plans. This weekend i had previously planned to have a sleepover with a friend at my house but because A wanted a "chill" weekend, i had to cancel. I know this doesn't seem like a big deal but this has happened before and i feel that it is taking a time on some of my friendships.

Recently i have been feeling really bad about my feelings toward A. I keep imagining her alone in her room, sad, because she can hear my and B laughing in my room. I'm literally crying thinking about it rn. It's just so hard to look past all the hardships she's out me and my family through.

Thanks for reading this, there is prob a couple spelling errors but you'll get over it. If you could give me some suggestions to improve my relationship with A that would be amazing.

Hope you have a good morning/afternoon/evening/night💕

It’s weird to even say this out loud, but I got a tattoo to cover my self-harm scars. And honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. The whole idea started off as something empowering, like reclaiming my body, right? You know the line, “Your skin is your story”—some therapist threw that out years ago during one of my low points. It stuck. I thought maybe, just maybe, putting something beautiful over something so painful would help change the narrative. So I chose a design I’d doodled in a journal years ago—something abstract but meaningful, sort of a fractured mandala, each line connecting past and present. The artist was kind and didn't ask too many questions, just looked me in the eye and said, “We’ll make this a transformation piece.” That sounded nice. Better than what it really was: me trying to hide from myself in ink and pain management creams.

Now that it’s been a few weeks, I stare at it and feel conflicted. The tattoo is well done—technically clean, good contrast, smart shading—but the scars are still visible beneath it. Not physically, not if you’re just glancing. But I know they’re there. That skin holds memory like film holds shadows, and even the pigment can’t overwrite the fact that I hurt myself deliberately, over and over, for years. Sometimes I catch my reflection and wonder who I’m trying to fool. Is this ink for healing, or just another form of concealment? It’s a question I keep circling, like a moth around a porchlight. I'm 38 now. Not a kid experimenting with identity. Not a teenager struggling with trauma she couldn’t name. A grown adult who still can't quite figure out what to do with all this leftover pain.

The part I didn’t expect was how other people would respond. Friends said things like “Wow, that’s powerful” or “It’s so meaningful,” like they were in on some secret spiritual moment. I smiled and nodded and said things like “Yeah, it represents growth,” but I never corrected them when they assumed it was just art for art’s sake. One coworker even said, “That’s dope, did it hurt?” and I just laughed and said “Not more than the stuff it’s covering.” He didn’t get it. And maybe I didn’t want him to. The truth is, there's a whole subculture around tattooing over scars, and it's not always about covering things up—sometimes it's about honoring survival. But I’m not sure if I survived something, or if I just stalled it.

I know this might come across as ungrateful or overly cynical, especially since not everyone gets a second chance to rewrite their skin. But what if rewriting isn't enough? What if healing isn't about erasing the past but learning to live with it in broad daylight? Some days I think I did the right thing—turned something painful into something beautiful, like alchemy. Other days, I feel like I’ve just added another mask, one that requires constant touch-ups and explanation. I'm not embarrassed by the scars anymore, but I am tired of what they represent: all those years spent pretending I was fine, when I was really just holding myself together with caffeine and denial.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is—if you’re thinking about getting a self-harm tattoo, ask yourself why. Like really, why. Is it closure? Is it expression? Is it shame in disguise? Maybe it’s a mix of all those. I can’t tell you the right answer because I still don’t know mine. All I know is that ink fades slower than memory, and covering something up doesn’t always mean it’s healed. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe healing isn’t linear. But I do wish someone had told me that before I sat down in that studio, gripping the chair like it was gonna save me.

TW : Talk of Overdosing, Self Harm, SA, and Family Violance.

so im 14 and my live with my aunt, ive been struggling with my mental health since I was five and since then ive been told to kms by my older sister and people around school starting all the way back at primary school, when I was around 6 or 7 I had hurt myself for the very first time and some people say thats impossible for a 6 year old to know what that is or how to do anything to hurt myself purposly but if you grew up in my house you would understand. I grew up with a lot of family violence from my step dad and my mum, and my dad was out of the picture since I was 3 and obviously as a 3 year old I thought it was my fault and my mum had told me it was my fault. then when I was maybe 7 or 8 my mum met her best friend at the times boyfriend and he started SAing me and I thought rhat was normal but it got too much so at the age of 9 I made the decision that no 9 year old should ever make, I made the decision to try take my life repeatedly since this first time. picking up SH habits of cutting, but the only reason I am sharing this is because no one seems to be listening to how I feel, to this day I am still struggling with my mental health and my aunty or mum or dad do not gaf and I need someone that would listen.

Tonight, I ordered food from a local pizzeria through Grubhub. The place is only a 10-minute drive from my home. Grubhub estimated the delivery time to be 45-50 minutes.

After waiting for 1.5 hours, my food still hadn't arrived. I called the pizzeria to check if the order had left. I was worried I might have missed the driver since my doorbell is broken and he might not have a phone. The guy who answered said the driver was on his way.

Another half hour went by (2 hours after ordering), and I called again. This time, a woman answered. She mentioned they were very busy and that the driver had left with three orders, but she didn't apologize.

I waited another half hour (2.5 hours after ordering) and called again. By now, the pizzeria was closing in 20 minutes. I called 16 times with no answer. At one point, someone picked up and immediately hung up, probably because the phone was ringing nonstop and there was no answering machine. Eventually, they must have taken the phone off the hook because I got a busy signal until 11 p.m. when they closed.

I felt they owed me an explanation. If you know there's a late order still undelivered, you shouldn't close up shop. They should have at least reassured me that my food was coming, maybe by having the driver call me.

Finally, I gave up hope and canceled my order through Grubhub. I ordered food from another place.

Three hours after I placed the original order, and after I had already canceled and ordered elsewhere, the driver called to say he was outside. I told him I didn't want it because it was late and probably cold (plus, I had already ordered elsewhere and canceled this order).

I'm really mad at this pizzeria and won't go there again. I get they might have been busy because of the holiday, but 3 hours is just ridiculous (especially when they said the driver had left after 1.5 hours). Are they wrong, or am I?

Imagine if this happened on a reality show! How do you think people would react to such a situation? Would they side with me, or would they think I was overreacting? Reality shows always bring out strong opinions, and I wonder what the audience would say about this ordeal.

In our family gatherings, it's almost a given that I, an 18-year-old female, will end up supervising my nieces and nephews. It’s become an unspoken rule because my older siblings took care of me when I was younger, and now I'm supposed to return the favor.

I actually enjoy spending time with them—they’re a bunch of well-mannered kids when they're with me, mostly because I made it clear early on that I wasn't someone to be trifled with. When it comes to laying down the law, I'm pretty straightforward.

As far as babysitting rules go, I’m pretty lax. Some might say too lax, but my philosophy is simple: I ensure they're safe and happy, but I'm not about to enforce a mile-long list of do's and don'ts. For instance, if a parent insists on a vegan diet, they need to provide the food because otherwise, it’s going to be pizza or something equally non-vegan. And as for screen time, unless specific media is provided, my go-to might be anything from mainstream animated movies to popular kids’ shows.

My parents have tried to impress upon me the importance of sticking to the guidelines they or my siblings set, but my stance remains firm: why should I? What’s really at stake for me? If they decide to withhold babysitting privileges, that’d be a relief rather than a punishment!

We’re currently enjoying time in Jasper, where the weather's been scorching. To cool off, I took the kids cliff jumping at Horseshoe Lake, which they absolutely loved, despite returning home soaking wet and covered in dirt. This led to a chorus of complaints about my babysitting methods, to which I humorously offered a "full refund" of my free services before heading out to grab a beer with some new friends from the lake.

Financially, I’m set up pretty well. I earned a full scholarship for college and I received a small inheritance when I turned 18. It’s grown significantly over the years thanks to compound interest since it started accumulating when I was just three. Unlike my siblings, who received similar inheritances but haven’t seen the same growth, I don’t need to rely on financial support from my family. This independence also means their leverage over me is pretty limited.

My family views my attitude as entitlement, but I see it as self-respect, especially since I’m not being compensated for my time. I’m more than happy to respect any rule, as long as I’m paid appropriately to do so.

I sometimes wonder what it would be like if my family dynamics were broadcast on a reality TV show. Would the audience side with me for asserting my independence and standing my ground, or would they view me as the rebellious, ungrateful youngster refusing to respect my elders’ and parents’ wishes?