Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

ok so like i don’t even kno what happened. one day he was all sweet n talkin to me in class, laughin at my dumb jokes, sayin good morning on snap, just bein cute n stuff... and now? it’s like i don’t even exist. he don’t look at me, don’t reply, don’t even open my messages sometimes. i keep re-readin our convos like, did i say somethin wrong?? was i weird?? was i too much?? i swear i been thinkin about it nonstop and it’s makin me feel like i’m goin crazy. we used to talk every day and now it's just silence. and it hurts way more than i thought it would. i didn’t even realize how much i liked him until he started actin like i was invisible. like bruh what changed???

he was the first boy who made me feel kinda special, u kno? not like those fake boys who just wanna mess around. he actually listened to me, asked me about my day, remembered the lil things i said. he used to sit by me at lunch, even helped me with math one time (even tho he lowkey sucks at math lol). i thought it meant something, fr. like we had a thing, even if it wasn’t official or whatever. nd now it’s like he flipped a switch. i saw him talkin to some other girl the other day and he smiled at her in that same way he used to smile at me and ngl, it felt like a punch in the stomach. i told myself i wouldn’t catch feelings but i did and now here i am, listenin to sad songs like a dummy n tryna not to cry in front of ppl.

i asked my friends what i should do n they all said stuff like “forget him” or “he’s not worth it” but that don’t help. i don’t wanna just forget him. i wanna understand what i did wrong. like, was i too boring? too clingy? not pretty enough? it’s messin with my head. every time my phone lights up i hope it’s him but it never is. i be dreamin about him textin me like “hey sorry i was busy” or “i miss u” but it never happens. just more silence. and the worst part? i still like him. i still wanna talk to him. and i hate that. why do i care so much about someone who clearly don’t care about me anymore?

i keep tryna tell myself that if someone can just stop talkin to u like that, they were never really yours in the first place. but it don’t make it hurt any less. i miss how it felt when we were vibin, when i thought maybe, just maybe, this boy actually liked me for me. now i feel dumb. like i made it all up in my head or somethin. maybe he got bored. maybe he found someone better. maybe he never liked me at all. i dunno. but what i do kno is that bein ignored like this sucks. it makes u feel small. invisible. like u don’t even matter. and i’m tryna move on, i swear i am. but it’s hard when the only person u wanna hear from is the one who won’t even look at u. so yeah... why is he ignoring me? i wish i knew. i really do.

Today, my daughter, who is 7 §yes, seven!), was wearing a sleeveless top to school, which is perfectly within the dress code guidelines, and she's dressed similarly on many occasions without any issues. However, a substitute teacher took offense, claiming the attire was inappropriate, and urged me to bring another shirt for her. Coincidentally, I was already heading out to a hockey game, where I play as the goalie for a local team, and you know, goalies are quite essential – we really can't afford to be late or miss a game last minute.

I found the substitute’s call quite infuriating as it insinuated my daughter’s outfit was indecent. I explained to her that the top was perfectly acceptable and highlighted my inability to assist given my commitment to the game. I definitely did not appreciate her stepping over the line.

The substitute teacher threatened that she would have to send my daughter home and insisted that either my husband or I should come to pick her up. I couldn't help but laugh, explaining the situation: my husband was working from home, and since I had the car for my hockey game, he couldn’t pick her up either. As a solution, the substitute made my daughter wear her blazer for the entire day. Now, she’s gone as far as to complain to the principal about the incident. My husband feels I should have complied by bringing another shirt and perhaps addressed or contested the issue with the school board or the principal later on.

Do you think I mishandled the situation?

Interesting to consider, what would happen if this incident unfolded not in everyday life but on a reality TV show? Surely, the dramatization of the scenario would amplify. Cameras would capture every detail of the tense conversations, and the audience could decide right then whose side they're on – the flustered hockey-playing parent or the steadfast substitute teacher. The resolution might even involve a dramatic public vote or a mediated session on what truly defines 'appropriate' school wear. Reality TV has a knack for turning simple disputes into captivating spectacles, after all!

I’m 41, my wife told me last year that she cheated on me, and I’m still mad as hell about it; it’s been eating at me every single day, and I can’t figure out how to get over it no matter what I do. She sat me down and confessed like it was some noble act of honesty, like I should clap for her bravery because she finally told the truth, but the timing was absolute bullshit—she kept it hidden for over a year, and I was living like a clueless idiot thinking our marriage was solid, meanwhile she carried this secret around like a loaded gun aimed right at me. Now every time I look at her, I see betrayal, every time she touches me, I feel disgust, and every time she says “I’m sorry” I want to scream in her face that sorry doesn’t cut it, not even close. People keep throwing advice at me: “Go to therapy,” “Work on forgiveness,” “If you love her, you’ll get through this.” Do you know how empty that sounds when you’re the one living with the images in your head, the constant mental slideshow of her with someone else? I’m supposed to be calm, rational, mature about it, but all I want to do is smash something every time I remember what she did. I don’t give a damn about psychology terms or self-help mantras, because none of that makes the rage stop, none of that makes me trust her again. I still love her, and I hate that I do, because it makes me feel weak and pathetic, like I’m tolerating something no man should tolerate. I’ve read quotes like “Forgiveness is for yourself, not for them,” but what does that even mean in practice? Forgiveness feels like saying it’s okay, and it’s not okay. Forgiveness feels like lowering my own value just to patch up something that should never have been broken in the first place. Maybe cheating is “a symptom of deeper issues” like people say, maybe she felt disconnected, maybe she was insecure, maybe she was bored, but I honestly don’t care what the excuses are—at the end of the day, she chose it, she decided I wasn’t enough, and that decision lives in my chest like a damn parasite feeding off me every single day. I can’t stop imagining it, I can’t stop asking myself questions I don’t even want the answers to: Did she enjoy it? Did she think about me while it was happening? Did she laugh at me behind my back? Sometimes I catch myself staring at her across the table, wondering how many more lies I don’t know about, wondering if she even respects me or if she just fears losing the comfortable life we’ve built. It makes me sick that she can sleep peacefully next to me while I lie awake at 3 a.m. replaying everything like some endless punishment reel in my brain. Friends tell me time heals, but right now time feels like torture, just dragging the wound open again and again, and I don’t feel closer to healed—I feel stuck, like I’m living in some half-life where nothing feels solid anymore. I look at other couples and wonder how many of them are hiding the same crap, how many smiles are just masks covering betrayal. Do you think it’s possible to ever really get over being cheated on, or do you just learn to live with the scar? Because honestly, I don’t know how to let this go without losing a part of myself, and I’m not sure if that’s worth it. Everyone says marriage takes work, but this isn’t “work,” this is demolition, and I’m being asked to rebuild on a foundation that’s already cracked and rotting. She swears she loves me, she swears it was a mistake, she swears she’ll never do it again—but how do you believe words from a mouth that already lied for so long? Sometimes I think leaving would be easier, just walk away, burn it down, start over, but then I think of the years together, the memories, the stupid little routines we built, and I feel paralyzed. I hate this limbo. I hate that she did this to me. And I hate that no matter what I decide, I’ll never be the same again 🤬

I reside in a rather expansive subdivision, home to around 90 households, which has the reputation of being quite affluent. This status naturally transforms our neighborhood into a magnet for trick-or-treaters each Halloween. In the beginning, the sight of 700 to 1000 children parading up and down our streets was charming to me, especially since my children, now teenagers, no longer partake in the festivities. However, the past four years have seen this charming tradition exacerbate into a nightmare. The number of visitors has surged to thousands, including many unsupervised toddlers. It’s not uncommon to see vehicles packed beyond capacity, hay-laden trailers carrying groups of kids, and an unacceptable amount of litter and destruction.

Two years ago, a personal incident sharply turned my tolerance into action. My daughter, in the mayhem, had a fall and ended up with a suspected broken arm. The shear volume of people and parked vehicles made it impossible for us to drive out and seek medical aid. We were trapped until the streets cleared around 1 am, leaving my daughter in agony for hours. That was the last straw for me.

In response, I rallied our community leadership and we managed to implement a controlled entry system at the neighborhood’s entrance. Now, admission on Halloween is restricted to residents and their close associates. Following this change, the atmosphere became more manageable and safer, with the number of trick-or-treaters dropping to about 300 and litter reducing significantly.

My sister, however, was none too pleased when I shared this development with her. Growing up, we had experienced trick-or-treating in various neighborhoods ourselves due to living in a trailer park with few children. She accused me of spoiling Halloween for countless children. Despite her disapproval, I stand by my decision as it addresses crucial safety concerns which could potentially prevent emergency services from accessing our neighborhood in a crisis. Safety, in my opinion, should always come first.

Now, envisioning this situation playing out on a reality show sparks an interesting thought. Reality TV thrives on conflict and dramatic reactions, so how would audiences react to my stance? Would they see it as a reasonable measure for safety, or would they paint me as the villain, ruining Halloween fun for kids? The controversy alone might make good television, but it would undoubtedly amplify the scrutiny and the polarized opinions on my decision.

Am I right to prioritize safety over tradition?

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.

It's clear to me that climate change is a genuine issue impacting many around the world. However, I must admit I'm not particularly moved to take action myself. Frankly, the concerns closest to home are what matter most to me. It may sound harsh, but I suspect that's the reality for most people. Why should I disrupt my routine for global issues that don’t seem to impact my immediate environment?

Honestly, I've got my plate full already.

The way I see it, each person values their problems higher than others', and calling someone selfish for focusing on their own life seems unjust to me. Those pointing fingers are often no different; it’s natural to prioritize personal challenges over wider societal issues that might not feel as pressing.

Moreover, changing the course of global issues like climate change should be handled by government policies, not just individual efforts. It's unrealistic to expect one person’s actions to make a significant dent in such a massive problem.

Imagine if I were on a reality show spouting these opinions—how would the audience react? I'd probably be branded the villain of the season, the self-centered contestant with a disinterest in pressing global issues. Viewers might criticize my lack of commitment to environmental causes, leading to heated debates about personal responsibility versus government intervention in social media comments and discussion panels.

Last week, I encountered an exceptionally rude sales assistant while hunting for a birthday present, and I wonder if I may have overreacted because of it. There was only one attendant free at the shop, and it was apparent she preferred not to be disturbed. She avoided making eye contact and would walk in the opposite direction whenever I neared. After waiting around for another assistant to become available and realizing none would, it was getting late, so I reluctantly decided to approach her. Regrettably, her response was dismissive and unhelpful, leading me to resume my browsing alone as I awaited my husband's arrival.

Upon his arrival, it was as if a switch had flipped with the saleswoman. She became eager and attentive, quite the opposite of how she had treated me initially. My attention had been caught by a stylish bag earlier, which I might have even bought for myself had it not been for her earlier behavior. My husband noticed and asked if I was interested in purchasing it, but I refused, particularly because it would mean she’d earn a commission from the sale. Despite my earlier experience, she now seemed more than willing to assist.

A few days later, my husband surprised me with that very same bag as a gift. I inquired if he had returned to the same store and interacted with the same assistant, which he confirmed. Knowing this, I felt compelled to return the bag. I explained to him how her initial rudeness had spoiled my view of the purchase, and that I did not want her benefiting from the commission. While the commission seemed trivial to my husband, the principle mattered to me. He was quite upset when I returned his gift, not understanding why a stranger’s actions should influence our decisions.

Am I being unreasonable?

Navigating this situation on a reality show would undoubtedly amplify the drama. Picture the scenario being replayed to a room full of spectators, each weighing in on the ethical dilemma. Would the public side with my decision to stand against poor customer service, or would they perceive my actions as an overreaction detrimental to what was a heartfelt gift from my husband? Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, often escalating them to entertain the audience.

I’m 20. Male. No diagnosis. No meds. Not doing anything dangerous either, just kind of… existing, I guess?? I sleep way too much, but I’m still tired. I eat when I remember. I shower when I absolutely have to. Most days I wake up around noon, stare at the ceiling, then scroll until my phone gets too hot. I used to make plans. Now I cancel everything with the same excuse: "Sorry, not feeling it today." I'm polite about it. Always polite. But it’s a lie, right?? I don’t even know if I’m feeling anything.

I used to think I was just lazy. Like, I’ve always struggled with getting started on things—school projects, job applications, even just laundry. But lately, it’s more than that. I’ll sit down to do something, and my brain just… doesn’t. Like someone unplugged the part that makes me care. My dad says, “You need discipline.” My mom says, “Go outside more.” My friends say, “Just push through it, bro.” Okay, cool. But what if there’s nothing to push with?? What if the battery’s dead and the charger’s missing??

My room’s a mess. Not gross, just... piles of clothes and unopened mail and stuff I keep saying I’ll deal with “tomorrow.” I tell myself it’s fine. I mean, who am I bothering, right?? But every now and then I look around and it hits me—I’m stuck. Not rock bottom, not in crisis, just quietly stuck. Like that quote I saw once: “You’re not drowning. You’re just slowly sinking while smiling at everyone on the shore.” That’s kind of it. I still reply to texts. I still laugh at memes. I still say “I’m good, thanks” when someone asks how I’m doing. But am I?? I don’t know anymore!!!

It’s not all hopeless or dramatic. Some days I get a burst of energy out of nowhere and clean everything and even go for a walk or cook something decent. But it never lasts. It’s like a glitch in the system, not a fix. Then I’m back to lying in bed, scrolling through my camera roll from months ago, wondering why I looked happier in those pictures. Maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I just had better lighting. I’ve thought about therapy but I don’t feel “bad enough” to go. Isn’t that dumb?? Like I’m waiting for things to get worse before I ask for help??

So I guess I’m just wondering… am I lazy or depressed?? Is this what burnout looks like when you don’t even have a job yet?? I’m not trying to be dramatic. I know people have it way worse. I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Or if anything’s wrong at all. Maybe I’m just weak. Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I need to try harder. Or maybe I need to admit that something isn’t right. I honestly don’t know. If you’ve felt like this before, did it get better?? What helped?? I'm open to answers. Just trying to figure this out without breaking anything.

Living next to an Airbnb has become increasingly challenging for me, culminating in numerous unsettling episodes. Without getting into every detail, suffice it to say the experience has been less than pleasant, especially after my house was struck by 20 bullets during a shootout at a raucous party hosted at one of these rentals earlier this year.

Last night brought another aggravating situation. The latest Airbnb guests thoughtlessly blocked our shared driveway. Trying to resolve the matter amicably, I approached them to request politely if they could move their vehicle. Their response was dismissive, a blunt "ain’t got the keys. NO," before they left in a different car leaving me stranded with my problem.

I've attempted to communicate with the owner of the Airbnb property multiple times to no avail; the last conversation we had was in May, after which there was only silence on her end. Considering her usual lack of responsiveness, I didn't hold out much hope this time either. Nonetheless, I sent her a brief text and proceeded to call the non-emergency police line to explain the situation. Contrary to expecting just assistance, the police decided to tow the car.

Now, the Airbnb owner is irate with me. She claims I acted too hastily and didn’t give her guests sufficient time to move the vehicle themselves. However, based on the guests' initial reply and past experiences, waiting around seemed futile.

Imagine if this scenario played out on a reality show. Cameras rolling as tensions rise and conflicts unfold could potentially amplify the drama and reactions. In such a setting, would the public side with me for taking a stand, or would they view my actions as an overreaction? Reality shows tend to dramatize conflicts and could skew perceptions, possibly painting me as the villain in the story for escalating the situation, regardless of my reasonable frustrations.

Am I justified in calling the police over the blocked driveway, or did I overreact by not waiting longer?

So, my best friend just broke up with his girlfriend a few days ago, and honestly, I have no clue how to handle it... Like, what do you even say to someone who’s heartbroken? 😕 He’s been with her for three years, and I could tell he really loved her. They had their ups and downs like any couple, but I always thought they’d make it work somehow. Now he’s just... empty, I guess. He doesn’t talk much, barely eats, and even when I try to joke around, he just gives that half-smile, you know the one? That smile that’s there just to make you stop worrying. It’s hard to see someone you care about going through that kind of pain, especially when you can’t fix it. I’ve been trying to hang out with him more, take him out for walks, grab a drink, or just watch something dumb to distract him, but I can tell it’s not really helping. Maybe I’m trying too hard? Or maybe I’m not doing enough?? I keep wondering what people actually do in these situations, like, do you let them cry it out, or do you keep them busy so they don’t think too much? 🤔

Yesterday, he came over to my place, and we just sat in silence for almost an hour before he started talking. He said, “I don’t even know who I am without her.” That hit me hard, not gonna lie. I wanted to tell him something deep or comforting, but my brain just froze. I didn’t wanna sound like those people who drop clichés like “time heals all wounds” or “you’ll find someone better.” Those lines sound so empty when you’re the one hurting, right? But then again, what else can you say when you don’t know how to take away someone’s pain? I just told him that it’s okay to not be okay, and that he doesn’t need to rush to move on. I also told him that he’s still him, with or without her. I don’t know if that helped, but he nodded, so maybe it did. Still, I keep asking myself, what’s the right balance between giving someone space and showing that you care? Because I don’t wanna smother him, but I also don’t wanna disappear and make him think he’s alone in this;

The funny thing is, I’ve never been through a serious breakup myself, so I can’t even relate to what he’s feeling. I can imagine it’s like losing a part of yourself, like this big void suddenly opens up in your life. You go from having someone to share every little thing with to having silence in moments that used to be full of laughter. I guess that’s why I’m struggling, I’m trying to understand something I’ve never lived. I don’t wanna be the guy who says “you’ll be fine” when I have no idea what fine even means in that context. Sometimes I think the best thing to do is just sit there and listen, without trying to fix anything. But at the same time, it feels weird doing nothing while someone’s clearly hurting. It’s that helpless feeling that messes me up. Maybe you’ve been in my place before? How did you comfort your friend when they were heartbroken? Did you talk it out, or did you let them figure it out on their own? I feel like everyone handles breakups differently, some need to talk, others shut down, and some pretend they’re okay until they actually are. 😔

I guess what I’m really wondering is, what’s the right thing to do for someone who’s not ready to move on yet but also doesn’t want to be alone? I can’t force him to forget her, and I don’t wanna distract him to the point where he’s just ignoring what he feels. Maybe comfort isn’t about finding the right words but just being there, showing up even when you don’t know what to say. I’ve been thinking maybe I could plan a weekend trip somewhere, just us, to get him out of the same routine. Or maybe I should just keep checking in, one day at a time. The hard part is seeing him blame himself for everything when I know it wasn’t just his fault. He keeps saying he should’ve been better, done more, listened more... but relationships end for a reason, and it’s never only one person’s fault. I told him that, and he looked like he wanted to believe me, but his eyes said otherwise. So yeah, here I am, stuck trying to figure out how to comfort someone after a breakup, not just say the right thing, but be the right kind of friend. Maybe that’s what real comfort is: showing up, even when you’re just as lost as they are. 💬

[ this is taken directly from a desktop file I made recently. it was originally supposed to act as a message, but not anymore. take this into account. ]

hello. i won't say your name, you probably don't want me to speak it anyway. i look over all the shitty things you said to strangers about me every day. it reminds me of how you really think of me rather than how you want me to think. and yet you still wonder why i cut myself off. ironic, isn't it? all those things you said about me not understanding you, even if you did the same thing back to me tenfold. how funny must it be to make a big point about leaving me behind only to talk shit about me when i take a break? when i express my own beliefs and opinions rather than yours? when i do anything that you don't like? even if i didn't even know? and yet, i didn't cut you off for myself. ironically, i did it for you. you're making new friends, glorifying them to me as if i'm nothing. as if you're looking at me and saying 'see these people? let me tell you just how much better friends they are'. stop telling me what you think i want to hear. two-faced.

-b

So apparently I don’t really care if this site it safe or not, I listen to way too many people vent in real life, and I couldn’t get a person to rely on myself, and it’s eating me inside. Whenever I feel stressed, I solve math problems, it increases the level of stress but at least it’s all covered up. It makes me forget about my past mistakes

And now here I am, venting here instead because I tried venting to people in my family but ended up in a disaster. My mom always mention that I’m the problem from letting her into peace, if I wasn’t born then she would have flown to Korea. I mean it’s true, it is. I’m blocking her. I just feel bad for others, and I don’t have time to think about myself, but when I mention this problem to others, why do they all just say that I’m too selfish when I’m too selfless? People at school uses me. For money, for food, or because they don’t have friends to sit with on the school bus. I do have a lot of friends, thanks to my personality, but when will be the day that I stop venting online and vent on my classmates on auto pilot mode? I bet they’ll all leave me.

I worked at a startup company in Plano headquarters initials with e.c. e**e c***********s. The bent over backwards for the company as people were fired the culture there became very toxic these m************ I bent over backwards for them bought them breakfast lunch dinner to make a cohesive team but higher ups were just full of s*** but they f***** up how people help each other and actually promoted a culture of toxicity and backstabbing, and encouraged their employees not help each other it was really f***** up. I just want you to know you folks that are still at that company you all are a bunch of m************ makes me sick to ever work side by side with you. I hope you eat s*** die m************

After years of diligent saving since I was 16, I recently achieved a personal milestone—I purchased my first car. It is a used model but incredibly dependable, representing a symbol of my independence which I cherish deeply. The car is essential; I use it daily to commute to my job and university, making my routine significantly easier to manage.

However, a recent incident has upset the balance in my household. My brother, Liam, caused an accident some weeks back by speeding, which led not only to him wrecking his own vehicle but also being left without any means of transport since the incident. Thankfully, he was unharmed. The problem arose when my parents demanded that I lend my newly acquired car to Liam “temporarily,” until he manages to get back on his feet financially and fix his car. Seeing as Liam’s job involves substantial driving, and I typically only travel within our local area, my parents argue this arrangement would be the most logical.

Despite understanding their point, I refused. The effort I put into acquiring my car was monumental, and it serves more than just a means of transportation—it’s my lifeline to both professional responsibilities and personal freedom, significantly impacting my overall well-being. This refusal, however, has not sat well with my family. My parents accused me of being selfish and inconsiderate, stressing the importance of supporting family. Liam hasn’t engaged much in conversation with me since, choosing instead to express his frustration through subtle coldness.

Amidst the turmoil, my parents have continued to escalate the situation, labeling me as immature and not a “team player.” There have even been threats to withdraw their financial support for certain necessities like my car insurance. This has left me torn—I understand my brother’s predicament, but I also feel it’s unjust to be coerced into surrendering something I’ve worked so hard for and need, especially considering the circumstances of how he ended up in this situation.

Considering how entrenched my parents are in their views, I’ve wondered how my stance would be perceived in a more public arena. If this drama were unfolding on a reality show, the audience could likely be divided. Some might sympathize with my need for independence and the efforts I've put into achieving it, while others could critique me for not prioritizing familial obligations over personal assets. Would the court of public opinion deem me unreasonable, or would they applaud my resilience in standing up for my principles?

Am I being unreasonable for not allowing my brother to use my car, given that our parents are so upset? Should I relinquish my car for family peace, or continue to defend my position firmly?

TW: sexual assault

Hi um so I'm posting here because I really don't have anywhere else to talk but I've been having a lot of trouble recently. I've been remembering a lot of the bad things that happened to me when I was a kid and it's a lot and idk what to do because I can't stop remembering it. From the ages of 9-11 my best friend who was the same age and gender as me kind of like molested me? I don't know if it counts because we're both girls and the same age but she would do a lot of things to me. I don't wanna get into a lot of details but it happened at least once a week and it did involve penetration with her fingers. I remember it happening a lot and she'd "experiment" on me, and one time our parents walked in. They were really mad and her parents stopped talking to us for a week but she convinced them it wasn't that bad and we were just "playing doctor" but she never stopped after that and I'd tell her I didn't like it but she would tell me I'm pathetic and if I didn't do this I wouldn't be her best friend, so I did. It went on until she moved to a different state and I honestly forgot about it until like a few months ago and I've been recalling everything she'd done to me and idk what to do because I feel disgusting and I can't stop thinking about it and I know it wasn't a super big deal bcs yk we were both kids but I still can't get it out of my head and it's like scaring me and idk what to do and idk if it even counts because we were both kids and we were both girls but I think I've been spiraling downhill recently and I realize how a lot of the stuff I do like being awkward in convos or having trouble with physical touch is partially due to this and I just hate myself for it because I can't get over it and I can't even hug my own friends without getting weirded out and I'm sorry for ranting I'm just really in a bad place rn with this and I can't stop thinking about it eve though it happened years ago