Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Many years ago, when I was just 18, my life took an unexpected turn. Following the tragic death of our parents in a car accident, my elder sister Lily decided to cut all ties with me. At such a critical time when support was paramount, she chose to leave, citing my immaturity and her desire to explore life without burdens. Left alone, I was forced to juggle multiple jobs while attending college, all without any assistance from her.

Recently, however, fortune smiled on me in an unexpected way. I received a significant inheritance from our maternal grandfather. This windfall has truly been a game changer for me in many ways. However, it also marked the return of Lily into my life. It didn’t take long before she began discussing her financial hardships, subtly suggesting how tough things have been for her.

The newfound interest in rekindling our relationship seemed directly tied to my financial status, which did not sit well with me. I confronted her, making it clear that I had no intention of sharing the inheritance. Her reaction was bitter; she called me selfish and ungrateful, emphasizing the importance of family during such exchanges.

Despite the pressures, I’ve remained firm on my decision. Friends have supported me, understanding the complexity and the hurt from past experiences. However, some relatives argue that forgiveness should lead my actions, which has left me questioning the balance between forgiveness and self-respect.

Imagine this scenario being part of a reality show—the dynamics and decisions around familial bonds and financial clashes broadcasted for all to see. How would the audience react to a confrontation where past abandonment is juxtaposed with sudden claims of familial rights driven by monetary gain? Would they rally in support of standing firm against manipulative reconnections, or would they encourage reconciliation regardless of past grievances?

Regardless, the challenge of navigating such waters is extensive. It prompts a broader conversation about the meaning of family and support, especially when tested by circumstances that involve financial gain or loss.

man it's been like 2 months and i still think about her every single day. like not even just once or twice, but all day long, like a song stuck in my head that won’t shut up. we broke up, yeah, and i know she’s gone and probly already movin on but i can't. i keep thinkin about the way she used to laugh at my dumb jokes, or how she’d hold my arm when we walked down the hall at school. i miss the lil things the most, like how she’d say "you're dumb" when i’d say somethin stupid but then smile right after. it’s dumb, i know, but even when i'm playin games or chillin with the boys, she just pops into my head like she still got space in there. nd it sucks man. feels like i'm stuck in this loop of memories and i can’t find the off switch.

i thought maybe after a few weeks i’d be fine, like i’d stop feelin all this crap. but nah, it’s still here. it hits hardest at night, like when i’m just layin in bed lookin at my phone, scrollin old messages like a loser. i kno i should delete them, fr, but i can’t bring myself to do it yet. even her name still pinned in my chat list, even tho we haven’t talked since the day she ended it. i don’t even kno what i did wrong exactly, she just said she "needed space" and that was it. like how do u go from talkin every day to nothin?? i keep thinkin maybe if i said somethin different or was less clingy or more chill, maybe she’d still be here. i’m not sayin i was the perfect bf or nothin, but i really liked her. maybe too much. maybe that’s the problem.

some of my friends say “bro, just move on, there’s other girls” but they don’t get it. it wasn’t just about havin a gf, it was her. she was the first girl i really opened up to, like really told stuff i don’t even tell my fam. and now she’s gone and i feel like a piece of me is gone too. school’s harder, i don’t even care about it anymore. food don’t taste the same. i stopped writin in my notebook, which i used to love doin. even music don’t hit the same now, every love song just makes me feel worse. nd it ain’t like i can talk to anyone for real about this. if i say too much, i get clowned. if i say nothin, i just sit with it alone. i wish she knew how much she still means to me. but i can’t tell her that, cuz i don’t wanna sound desperate. and maybe she don’t care anyway. maybe she’s happy now and i’m just here being stuck.

i dunno what to do. like i wanna move on but i also don’t wanna forget her. she was a big part of my life, even if it was short. nd maybe one day i’ll look back and laugh or feel nothin but right now it hurts like hell. i wish someone would just tell me how to stop thinkin about her. how do u stop missin someone who used to feel like your whole world? i try to distract myself, i try to be cool, but it don’t help. i just hope this feeling goes away eventually. i hope i get to the point where i think of her and it don’t make my chest hurt. cuz right now? it hurts. it really does. and it’s crazy how someone can leave and still be everywhere in your head.

not my typical post this is a horror but no option for horror

this is chapwr one lmk what u guys think

Chapter One — The Hollow Tree

I ran but she caught me when the moon slipped behind the clouds and the world went silent.

Her grip closed around my ankle with a strength that belonged to graves and forgotten things. I fell hard, the breath knocked from my lungs, my palms sinking into the cold mulch of the forest floor. Dead leaves clung to my skin like the hands of the unburied, and for one hopeless moment I imagined that I, too, was sinking—downward—into the dark earth they all returned to.

A low hum trembled through the soil. A voice without words. A summons.

I twisted to look behind me.

I should not have.

She emerged from the dark like a memory that should have died centuries ago—long limbs bending in wrong directions, bones clicking against each other like rosary beads in restless hands. Her hair, long and dripping, veiled most of her face, though the smallest sliver of a grin stretched beneath it, white as moonlit marble and sharp as split stone.

The forest held its breath.

Even the wind dared not speak.

“Please,” I whispered, though my voice felt like it belonged to someone already fading.

Her head tilted. Not with mercy—no creature of mercy would be found in this place—but with recognition. As though she had been waiting, patient and starving, for the moment I would return.

The stories had warned me. My grandmother’s voice echoed, faint and trembling, from the deepest corners of childhood: Do not run from the Hollow Woman. She will come faster. Do not speak to her. She will hear you for a century. Do not look back. She is always closer than you think.

Yet I had done all three.

Her fingers tightened, cold as river stones, and she dragged me across the earth toward the hollow tree ahead—a towering corpse of a once-mighty oak, its trunk split open by some ancient and merciless storm. The gap gaped like a mouth, the inside impossibly dark, impossibly deep, as though it tunneled straight into the underworld.

The closer we drew, the more the forest changed. The trees bowed inward, crooked like mourners at a funeral. A smell seeped from the hollow—wet soil, rotting bark, and beneath it something sweet, like overripe fruit left too long in the sun.

“No,” I gasped, clawing at the ground. My nails scraped through moss and root, catching on stones slick with dew. My body obeyed terror’s instinct, but my mind was trapped in the slow, creeping dread that had haunted me since I first heard her voice two nights ago.

It had come with the storm.

I had been lying in my grandmother’s abandoned house—our ancestral ruin—when the lightning split the sky and the walls groaned like a living thing. A whisper curled through the cracks in the floorboards, thin as winter breath: Come back to me.

I thought it was grief. Or loneliness. Or the house settling around its last inhabitant.

But then the whisper came again.

And again.

And last night, when the moon was whole and bright, I saw her standing beneath the oak tree at the edge of the forest, her shadow stretching longer than her body should allow.

She had been waiting.

“Not yet,” I murmured, desperate, choking on soil as I fought against her grasp. “Please—not yet.”

For the first time, she paused.

Her grip, though unyielding, stilled. Slowly, achingly slowly, her face lifted, and beneath the curtain of her tangled hair I saw the hollow where her eyes should have been—deep, shadowed pits that seemed to draw in the light around them.

When she spoke, it was not with a voice but with a sound like roots cracking beneath frozen ground.

“You left me.”

My heart stuttered. A coldness spread through my chest, not the fear she inflicted but something older, deeper, something that knew her.

Because I had left her.

I didn’t understand why or how—but the moment she spoke, the truth whispered beneath my memory like something long buried scratching at the coffin lid.

“I don’t remember,” I whispered, and my own words tasted wrong, as if they were stolen from someone else’s mouth.

She dragged me another inch toward the hollow tree.

The moon finally slipped from behind the clouds then, its pale, shivering light spilling across us. For a moment—just a moment—she stopped moving. Her body stiffened. Her smile dropped into a grim line carved of stone.

The moonlight touched her skin, and she recoiled as though burned.

I felt her grip loosen.

Only a little.

Only enough.

With a cry torn raw from my throat, I twisted sharply, kicking with all the panic of a creature half-dead and unwilling to finish the job. My heel struck something soft—her face, perhaps—and her grip faltered.

I scrambled backward, breath ragged, legs shaking so violently they barely obeyed me. She hissed, a sound like a dying wind through hollow places.

But she did not lunge.

She watched.

The moonlight kept her rooted.

I staggered to my feet. Pain lanced up my knee. Blood soaked into my sock. Yet I ran—not with hope, but with the terror of someone who knows the night is far from over.

Behind me, her voice seeped through the trees like mist:

“When the moon dies, you are mine again.”

And above the forest canopy, the clouds thickened—slowly smothering the light that protected me.

I have major mental health and anger issues! I’ve tried to seek help online and people always try to patronise me and fix me until things get difficult and negative or “toxic”. It honestly just pisses me off! Suck people should be in no position to help me

idk if im gay or bi or straight or just confused. like i see this one boy in my school and he smile at me and my brain went all like fuzzy?? not like when i look at girls sometimes idk it just feel different. not better or worse just weird. i dont like hate myself or nothing but i feel like i wanna know what this is. i try look at girls the same way but it not same feeling even tho i still think they look pretty. my friends always talk about girls like oh she's hot or whatever and i laugh along but i feel kinda fake. like why i dont feel that strong? but then again maybe i do just not same time or same way. my brain go all confuse when i try think hard. i seen some gay stuff online too and some of it make me feel things, like not bad things just kinda like oh that’s nice, and i dont know if that mean something or if it just a normal thing like people curious. i read that some people just need time to figure and that you not gonna have all answers at once so maybe that’s me too;

i talk to my cousin once, he gay and he said it took him years to know. he said don’t rush and just feel what you feel, don’t push it away but don’t force nothing either. he nice and i trust him but still i scared to even say to friends or anything. they not bad people just always making jokes like calling stuff gay like it’s dumb or weak or something and that make me not wanna say stuff even if i maybe gay. i don’t feel ashamed or like i’m doing wrong but i also don’t wanna be laughed at or treated weird. i think about future too and if i wanna have a boyfriend or girlfriend and it feel like both could maybe happen?? but also neither maybe?? is that even a thing? like not choosing or just feeling okay with both and letting it go where it go. i wish school teach this stuff better instead of just making us read poems from old dead guys. we got feelings too and not everyone feel same and that okay. sometimes i just wanna talk and say all this out loud but my throat close up like i scared of my own voice.

i still don’t have answer. maybe i never will get a big moment where i’m like “oh now i know”. maybe it gonna be little stuff adding up and one day i’ll just feel okay with whatever i am. for now i think it's fine to wonder and not know for sure. maybe you reading this feel same and that okay too. i’m just trying my best to be honest with myself and not hate anything i feel. i wanna like who i like and be okay with that. life already hard enough without me hating my own heart. so i gonna keep thinking and living and hoping that things get clearer. and maybe one day i’ll smile at someone and they smile back and it just make sense. 😊

I'm at the point in life where I don't really know what I want in my life anymore. I'm still in highschool, a senior to be in fact, I should have had my plan already ready by now but it's not.

I honestly didn't think I made it this far but here I am I guess.

Anyway, yeah. I don't know what I want in life anymore. I want to become a doctor or an engineer yet my family doesn't have enough money for either, plus they would have preferred if I had just focused on preaching. So my dream jobs are clearly out of the way.

I'd be an artist but that doesn't really get you anywhere does it? Especially with the rise of ai 'art' and so many better and more talented artists- it'll be nearly impossible to make a name and a living.

Writer? No. I used to love writting but now I have no passion for it as much as I used to. Plus my writting is mediocre, boring and plaid even.

Maybe a family women? No. I'm not exactly good enough to be a trophy wife or a housewife.

Religion? Well I don't know. I do love God. I really try to but the thing is that religion kinds destroyed my relationship with God. Does that make sense? I love God, I just don't like what some (or most) of his people had done to his name.

Suicide? I don't know. My religion has only ever taught me that death is death. Nothing happens. You don't go to an afterlife, or hell or heaven not you don't get reincarnated. You just go to a deep slumber.

And as much as that sounds good to me, it scares me.

So yes. There doesn't seem to be a path for me anymore. I guess to put it simply; I'm lost. Very very lost.

It isn't helping that graduation is coming up soon, that means my time to make a choice is limited.

To be honest, I really do just want to best for me and others. So I hope to whoever is up there to lead me to it

Today, after days and years of unknowingly dealing with the worst yet the most trusted people in my life, I've decided once again to just let go of my attachments towards them. I don't know, I wouldn't want to call them my parents anymore but I guess this is almost a small letter to them. I will not say sorry, because everything happened, not because of me but because of them carelessly making me. I may have grown into a "bad" person but I belive I've had enough. Because of this, I don't know how I'll ever get to go to college. Eitherway, I will try to learn making a business, maybe through digital products. If all else fails, I'll just either become a nun or convert to Buddhism and become a monk. I may not be heavily religious but I do believe in spirituality..does that make sense? To me, a God does exist, but it all jsut depends on us on how we view them, whether they be many or just 1. Sorry for yapping but these are my thoughts right now in living. Seriously. My dream for getting a "great" and "amazing" education is over. It was never my first dream so I guess it's been short lived. Instead, I can finally have chances to actually try other risky jobs..like journalism..the arts.. Film..all expensive if I had to take courses in uni for them but if all I can definitely jsut into any of these fields and still survive. Wow.. Life can take you anywhere, and I'm afraid I might even become dirt poor if I'm not too careful.

My fiancé and I are thrilled about our upcoming nuptials this October. The venue is actually my future mother-in-law's property, which is a horticultural haven, featuring elegant cobblestone walkways, enchanting fountains, and meticulously sculpted shrubbery. It even boasts stunning willow and cherry blossom trees.

The ceremony will take place in a delightful meadow nestled in the heart of their estate—it promises to be breathtaking. Meanwhile, my brother Peter, who has been with his fiancée Emily for six years now, recently came to me with some concerns. They've just gotten engaged as well, but we haven't grown very close since they live quite a distance away and usually only visit during major holidays.

Emily uses a prosthetic leg, and it seems that recently she's found it more comfortable to use a wheelchair. Peter texted me to inquire if the wedding venue was accessible for wheelchair users. I honestly wasn't sure, so I promised to find out. The place has varying terrain including sections of grass, cobblestone, gravel, and dirt, which I'm unfamiliar with in terms of wheelchair accessibility.

We visited my in-laws recently to sort out ceremony details and examine how accessible the space would be for Emily. Afterward, I updated Peter, explaining the variety of surfaces she’d encounter. When he realized we were setting up the reception outdoors on the grass under a tent, and not using additional flooring, he was concerned, pointing out it might be difficult for Emily to navigate without a hard surface.

When I mentioned the budget constraints prevented us from installing special flooring, Peter was upset, telling me we were effectively excluding Emily. He argued that if we didn’t make the wedding accessible for her, they might not attend. I was taken aback when he accused me of discrimination. My disappointment was compounded when my mother also chimed in, criticizing my decision and suggesting we should easily cover the cost since we had saved money elsewhere in our wedding plans.

I tried to explain my stance, but frustration ensued when my mom threatened to withdraw their financial gift to our wedding--even though they had already paid for our attire. My explanation that Emily and Peter could consider funding the specific flooring didn't resolve the issue, as Peter had his own wedding expenses to manage.

I feel torn—I don’t want to exclude anyone, especially not out of carelessness or indifference. But the logistical and financial challenges are genuine for us too. I'm just not sure how I can manage all expectations and needs.

Imagine if this whole situation played out on some reality show, the tension it would generate! Viewers might be polarized. Some would likely criticize me for not accommodating Emily, possibly without considering budget limitations. Others might empathize with the tough choices involved in wedding planning, knowing that no decision pleases everyone. The scenario would make a juicy, conflict-driven storyline, perfect for sparking debates and discussions across viewing audiences.

If I were faced with debating this on a reality show, how would people react?

Should I re-estimate my wedding budget to make room for wheelchair-accessible flooring?

Hey guys, I’m 21M and something has been bothering me. It’s stressing me out to the point where I feel like I’m losing myself, even though I seem okay to people. I’m stressing about my future and life. I’m still dependent on my family, and I’ll be graduating next year (2018). That thought is making me depressed.

I wouldn’t say I’m bad at academics, but I never give it my all, and even though I manage okay, or some I know I could do better. I always tell myself that one day, at some moment or event, I’ll start giving my best(not only for academics but for my life) but while waiting for that moment, I feel like I’ve been drowning. Zoning out has become normal for me I can’t even fall asleep or walk without zoning out. If I start thinking about my life, I just get stressed.

What’s made this even worse is that I used to be religious I’d go to church, read the Bible... but now I don’t do any of that.

Am just clueless right now and had no reason that I pursue.I’m just here to ask you, what’s something that kept you working hard? What was the moment or reason that made you want to change or to want more in life?

I’ve always had a habit of joking about myself, but lately, I’m starting to think it’s getting out of control. Self deprecating humor was kinda my thing—it made people laugh, made me seem approachable, and honestly, it helped me cover up any awkwardness. At work, it felt like the easiest way to fit in. Like, if I made fun of myself first, no one else could. “Oh yeah, I totally butchered that presentation,” or “Classic me, messing up again.” At first, it was just harmless banter, but now? It’s like I can’t say anything about myself without adding a joke at my own expense.... It's like if self deprecating at work has ruined my confidence... And the worst part? I think people have started to believe it. At first, they laughed along, but now, I catch these looks—like they’re wondering if I actually am bad at my job. Maybe they don’t trust me to handle big projects. Maybe I’ve been so good at making myself the office joke that they actually see me that way now.

The other day, I overheard two coworkers talking about me—nothing mean, but one of them said something like, “Yeah, he’s funny, but you can’t really take him seriously. He even says so himself.” That hit me way harder than it should have. I realized that all these little jokes, all the ways I downplayed myself, were actually making people see me as... less. Less competent. Less reliable. Less professional. I’d been so busy making sure no one saw me as arrogant that I accidentally convinced them I wasn’t worth much at all. And honestly, now I don’t even know if I believe in myself anymore. It’s one thing to use humor to connect with people, but it’s another thing to make yourself look incapable. And now? I feel like I’ve spent the last year making myself sound like a joke, and everyone—including me—started believing it. The weird thing is, I never even felt that insecure before. But now? Now I hear my own words playing back in my head, and they don’t feel like jokes anymore.

Now I’m stuck trying to figure out how to undo it. I wanna be taken seriously at work, but how do I suddenly stop making jokes about myself without looking like I’m trying too hard? It feels weird to just start acting confident when I’ve spent so much time making it clear I wasn’t. And the worst part? Even when I try to stop, those thoughts are still there. Like, what if I really am just average? What if they’re right? It’s like I tricked myself into seeing myself the same way I made everyone else see me. And the truth is, I don’t wanna be seen that way anymore. I know I need to change this before it completely wrecks my career, but I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I need to fake confidence until it becomes real. Maybe I need to just stop talking so much and let my work speak for itself. Or maybe, I just need to figure out how to stop believing every joke I ever made about myself.

(This story does mention dark things Just wanted to let everyone know before they read)

Boy or Girl... I don't know anymore?

Let's start from the beggining I have never felt like I have really fit in I moved from California(wont say where) in the 4th grade and in the 6th grade I was suicidal my Step Dad made me apologize to my mom for hurting her by saying I wanted to die. Then I went to the mental hospital twice in the 9th grade but also in the 9th grade. I found something out that changed me forever.

I have always been facinated with boy clothing and hair cuts I have always liked the way they looked and cologne I have always loved cologne. Then I had this feeling in my chest like deep down in my soul that something wasn't right. Then I figurd out I wanted to be a boy not like a tomboy or stuff I wanted to be a man I did so badly. It was really hard coming out to other people I told my sister first she was so understanding which I will be forever greatful for. When I told my mom it was a little diffrent though she was like understanding yeah but it didnt feel right. My step dad tried to understand but in the end when I said I wanted a boy hair cut he yelled at me and stuff and I ran away. But when I said I was nonbinary my mother was so happy she was like I knew you would come around and find out who you really were. Which really hurt because I thought she had expeted me. But then the feeling I thought went away but no it was really always there just waiting for the right time I guess.

There was one person I really admired his name was skylar and he was trans and he was a boy and he was the coolest. He had the coolest hair and the most awesome personality and I wished so badly I could be like him he was so out and happy with himself. I wish I could be that way. I don't want to have the man parts no offense but I want to be a boy if that makes sense.

Sorry this is so long. Also the guy I like if I told him I don't think he would like me if I told him that. Also is it werid that when I get married I stil want to wear a beautiful wedding dress. Also when I was talking to this lady on this christian site she told me I shouldn't be a boy just cause I said I was unsure and she said it could be because of my time of the month I'm feeling this. I litterally have felt this way for a long time she litterally said these exact words "You to help her understand her identity as she is having these questions and thoughts, I ask that You show her why you created her female." Yes I understand that for people in god's eyes I am perfect but I don't now anymore like I said "Boy or Girl... I don't know anymore?"

When I was around 11-13 I was badly suicidal. I ended up attempting 4 times. Then the 5th time, it almost worked. I was in the hospital getting 52 stitches on both my arms and 8 on my left leg, I didn’t leave because I was terribly under fed (I was starving myself for almost 2 weeks surviving on water, gum, and if I didn’t feel horrible, crackers.) so they had to force feed me for 3 days. Then I got put in a mental hospital (mind you I was 12) for almost 3 weeks until I got attacked by a person there. Thinking it couldn’t get any worse, right? Wrong. My mom then started abusing me and verbally abusing me. She then threw me down a staircase. Choked me, and then threw me down outside our house, when I had the chance I called 911. When they got there, I started crying, bruised in my neck, my knees bleeding, a huge bruise on my forehead. They only talked to my mom, not me the victim. When the paramedics arrived I only got to tell them. The officers asked to see my neck, and they then asked me. “Are you dating someone that’s in college?” I had no idea what they ment at ALL. when I told them I had no idea what w

They ment. My mom told them that she was punishing me for talking to an older guy (she found a hat one of my friends dad gave me from his college year which had the logo and name, year everything and I told her and she didn’t believe me.) so I told them I didn’t know and they just shut me up in the paramedics van. To THIS DAY. no one believes me. Not one bit. When I move out, should I cut contact with my family? My dad backed her up even though when my mom threw a tv at me he did nothing. Not a single thing.vmind you SHES been abusing me for years on end, one point she locked me a room. No food, no water, no blanket, no bathroom, I wasn’t aloud to leave till she said I could. I don’t feel safe around her and I don’t think I’d trust my kids around her when I have some.

i’m 34 and honestly, i’ve put up with way too much crap at this job. harassment, gossip, constant side-eyes, and let’s not even talk about the disgusting comments from mark in accounting. my boss knows all of it. i told him straight up. twice. and what did he say? “oh, he’s just like that, don’t take it personally.” excuse me? the hell does that even mean? so now i’m done. i’m out. but here’s the kicker: i don’t even know how to say it. i want to walk in there, look him dead in the eye and say, “you failed.” because that’s what he did. he failed me. but how do you quit a job where the management doesn’t care about the people and just watches them drown? i keep drafting this email in my head and it always ends with “go to hell,” which is probably not HR-friendly, right?

anyway, i’ve been thinking back to all the little things. like the time i was working late and heard one of the guys say “she’s only here late to flirt with the boss.” what the actual hell. or how i wore a dress one day and someone asked if i was “trying to get promoted the old-fashioned way.” it’s been months of this garbage and not once did anyone step in. i even documented it. emails. screenshots. dates. times. nothing changed. my therapist told me, “you teach people how to treat you.” well, i guess i taught them i’m easy to ignore. not anymore. i’m not gonna play nice. but still, how do i tell him without flipping a desk? “dear boss, i’m leaving because you’re a coward and a spineless fraud who lets his team rot”? too much? maybe. but am i wrong?

maybe the right move is to just slide a letter across the table and bounce. no goodbye cake, no fake hugs, no pretending we’ll keep in touch on linkedin. just done. but there’s this tiny part of me that wants him to feel it, you know? to see that someone who gave their all decided it wasn’t worth it because he refused to grow a pair. if you know a better way to quit when you’re fuming and disgusted and exhausted, let me know; otherwise, i’ll just do it the way they deserve: quick, cold, and with zero explanation. maybe just one line: “you knew. you did nothing. i’m gone.”

So it's the 26 of September. The past few days have a bit of mess. I've some better than others but i was a bit low energy and tired. On some days i only did the bare minimun and even less. On others i got a bit ahead of my work even if not by much. Yesterday my dog died. It's a weird way so Say It ig but honestly the way i'm feeling Is a bit weird right now too. It was a very fast thing. Didn't even have time to get her to the vet. It was all so sudden. In the morning she was alright. Eating playing. And then when i came back from school She wasn't eating or drinking and didn't have much strenght. And by the evening she wasn't with us anymore. She had been a bit weird the past few days. More cuddly out of nowhere She had always been a little weird. Attached to us by the hip a moment, completly out of our sight the next. I hadn't thought anything of It. But now i realized she was saying goodbye. It's kinda of sureal. My chest hurts. I haven't really cried about It yet. I've come close. I don't even know if i want to. It's so weird. Everything Is weird recently. None of the moments i'm living feel real. Idk what's going. Everything feels too normal and too different all at the same time. It happened, i was there to see her leave. And then she was gone and everything Just.. continued. I didn't really sleep last night. I was scared and anxious. I was scared of having nightmares. And then i crashed in the early morning. And then i woke up just like normal. And everything Is Just moving on. Even though It feels like It shouldn't.

Maybe It's Just the shock. I'm having trouble processing It honestly. My room Is a bit of mess. I have things to do. Lists and work to do. But I don't feel like doing anything. Idk. Maybe i'm exagerating? It's been very long since i've been in simirliar situation. I was much younger then and i was very sheltered from It ig and i think i was too young and stupid to really get It. This time. I was there everything moment since day One and untill the last moment. And i've seen her say goodbye i've seen her leave us. Out of no where. I've seen the look into her eyes when It happened. Maybe i should've looked away. Idk. idk how to feel. I've Just had this weird feeling in my chest since.

I think that this is less of a question and more of a vent. I was at a festival recently and for the first time in a while I felt genuinely happy and optimistic about my life and my future, it was 100% one of the best days of my life. Though afterwards, my dad sent me all of the videos and photos that he took and I’m in nearly all of them. I’m so ugly in each one and it’s not subjective or me being insecure, I am truly ugly and there’s no redeeming me. It makes me feel really sick and I got so angry at my dad for ruining my memories by reminding me how I looked, and how even when I was my happiest and smiling I still looked dreadful. It makes me embarrassed to go outside because I know that people are seeing my face and judging me. Even if they’re not judging me, they’re feeling sorry for me or are disgusted. I struggled to sit with my family for dinner tonight and nearly cried because I was aware that they could all see my face, and that’s mainly what made me write this. This sounds silly but I wish that we were all nothing but our souls, and had no physical bodies to worry about. I regularly struggle with suicidal thoughts anyway and I feel hopeless because every time I start to feel better I gain something else that makes me want to die. I suppose I’m just looking for validation on here so does anyone else relate? Or has anyone else also accepted that they’re ugly and have learnt to live with it? I’m 15 so perhaps my face will change overtime, but for now I can just see myself getting fatter and uglier by the day because of my horrible thoughts, so no hope.