Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

so, here I am, wondering if you can just, you know, wake up one day outta the blue and suddenly have OCD??! i'm no expert, but honestly, it kinda feels like it. i mean, i've always been a bit of a neat freak, but lately, it's like another level, folks. ever been caught up in something so intense that it almost feels like it just snuck up on you and smacked you in the face? that's what i'm dealing with right now.

it's like, now i can't even leave the freakin' house without checking everything, like, a thousand times. door locked? check. stove off? check. sanity intact? eh, who knows at this point. 😅 it’s wild, and honestly, it makes me think: can this really just happen later in life, or am i just losing my marbles? like, isn't OCD something you're either born with or not? why is my brain suddenly acting like it's under a microscope?

but, here's the thing: i'm not about to let this get me down. not a chance in hell. in a way, it's kinda fascinating how my mind's shifting gears, and yeah, maybe it's annoying as hell, but it also feels like a journey of self-discovery. and let's be real, who isn't down for a bit of a challenge now and then? i mean, my life's not falling apart or anything; it's just kinda evolving, if that makes any sense.

anyways, i'm figuring if it is actually OCD creeping in, then there's gotta be some way to handle this without losing my cool. ain't nobody got time to be stuck in their own head all day, right? 😆 so maybe it's time to cut myself some slack, try to lighten up, and see where this rabbit hole ends. you ever find yourself caught up in a similar loop? it's like swimming upstream, but, hey, one of us might as well find a way to laugh about it;

bottom line, i'm not letting this whole suspected-OCD-rabbit-hole thing dictate my life. sure, it feels like my brain’s playing tricks on me, but it's also kinda pushing me to grow a bit more. so to anyone else out there who’s suddenly questioning why their world’s started spinning in new directions— maybe it's not just a pain in the ass, maybe it's an opportunity to embrace what makes us tick. a twist in the plot that keeps things uh, 'scintillating' and kinda interesting, if you will. here's to rolling with the punches and feeling a bit less crazy in the process.

“you’re happiest when you make me sadder” — JADE, “Natural at Disaster”

slop, slop, slop. sounds like a poem doesn’t it? but really, it’s a word i constantly hear for ai-generated content. i always think to myself that there is good slop and bad slop, but now, i guess ai slop is just…slop.

ai slop is all over the internet, and people just shit all over it like it’s their problem. news headlines use it, twitter users use it, the comments section uses it. merriam-webster declares it as word of the year. i’m so sick of hearing that term from whoever uses it, be it an anti or a news outlet.

along my 99 problems as a synthographer, this is one of them. i generate beautiful anime stuff with ai, write character descriptions for them, make posters with it, all that stuff. yet they’ll simply dismiss it as “slop”, even if i just generate a guy or girl with cat ears.

i can’t even shake off that comment who told me to “go fuck yourself ai slop trash.” that was few months ago, yet why is it still lingering here with me?

slop, slop, slop…the more i hear it, the more i see it, the more i feel sick, tired, and angry. i guess my friend was right. all these comments let’s me offend me. maybe that’s why i can’t move on from them. have i been online too much? do i have to say “i’m supposed to be an adult, but fuck it, i need a minute” again? are they even happy when they make me sad? when will things get better again?

Last evening, a group of us decided to check out a recently recommended eatery by one of our pals, Charlie. Honestly, I wasn't all that thrilled since I hadn't heard much about the place, but I figured at least I'd be spending time with my friends.

Upon arrival, I skimmed through the menu but nothing really caught my eye. Reluctantly, I settled for a small starter and a milkshake, while the others opted for heartier main courses. When our orders arrived, my choice turned out to be less than satisfying, but I went ahead and ate it since I was quite famished. On top of that, I found the pricing overly steep; the milkshake was tagged at $8 and the starter at $6, making my simple meal a whopping $14.

The ordeal began when it was time to pay the check, which was considerably high due to the lavish orders by the rest of the group. One buddy suggested we split the bill evenly, but that didn’t seem fair to me seeing that I had ordered significantly less. I voiced that I’d rather just pay for my order. While some friends were understanding, a few, including Charlie, thought I was complicating things. They argued an even split was simpler, whereas I felt it unjust to overpay for what I had consumed, especially given my discontent with the meal and choice of venue.

The discussion caused a bit of a holdup—about an additional 15 minutes as we figured out the bill since I needed to pay by card at the counter, and the place was bustling which further delayed the process. Some remarked that splitting evenly would have saved time, but in the end, I only paid my $14. This whole scenario left me questioning if I had acted selfishly. It might have been quicker to just divide the bill, but I didn’t see why I should cough up an extra $10 for essentially no reason. Does standing my ground make me unreasonable?

Imagining this scenario unfolding on a reality show adds an interesting layer. The tension and drama over the bill could have been amplified, displaying varied reactions under the pressure of cameras and an audience. It’s possible I would be portrayed as the antagonist for stirring conflict, or maybe as a sympathetic figure standing up for fairness in social settings. Reality shows thrive on these interpersonal dynamics, and the scene might have made for a compelling segment, sparking debates among viewers about social etiquette and fairness.

Was I wrong for wanting to only pay for what I ordered?

I was visiting my family for the weekend, and my great aunt was there too. It's been a while since I was last home, so everyone came to see me.

Aunt Molly said she had a special spiritual dream where a guardian angel told her about an old neighbor from her childhood. She checked with a few people and found out there really was such a neighbor back in the day. She claimed this was some sort of miracle.

I was smiling the whole time. She asked why I seemed skeptical. I told her I believed she dreamed it, but it was probably because the old memory was in her subconscious and resurfaced in her dream. It wasn't a supernatural miracle, just her brain doing its thing.

She got mad and told me I needed to repent and find God in my heart again. I didn’t respond to that. Later, my mother said I caused a stir in the family and that my comment hurt Aunt Molly. Now everyone is upset with me. Did I do something wrong?

Imagine if this happened on a reality show. The drama would be off the charts! People would be taking sides, and there'd be endless discussions about faith, dreams, and subconscious memories. How do you think the viewers would react to my comment?

I worked as a pharmacy technician from 2018 to 2025, and for the first couple of years, I had to navigate a pretty toxic environment with two older women, whom I’ll call Gloria and Haven. Gloria was notorious for her drinking problem, and the only reason she kept her job was because she was the ex-daughter-in-law of the owner. Haven, on the other hand, was dealing with hormonal issues, which made her quite difficult to work with. I tried to keep my head down during this chaotic time, especially with COVID hitting and our pharmacy getting hacked. Gloria's constant absences and messy personal life created a lot of tension, and while some wanted to support her, I felt it was unfair that she was expected to be the glue holding everything together. Eventually, she got fired in 2022, but by then, I had already been dealing with the stress of Haven's constant criticism. She often apologized for her behavior, but it still took a toll on my mental health. I remember one instance where I was trying to split an oblong pill, and no matter how I explained that it wouldn’t break evenly, she kept insisting I was doing it wrong. It was exhausting. I showed her my pills, and she reacted strongly, saying it was disgusting and questioning how I would feel if I had to take something that looked like that. Her loud and dramatic nature made me feel even worse, and when she demonstrated how to break the pills, it turned out to be the same method I was using. I was terrified, feeling like I could never do anything perfectly. Afterward, I decided to talk to my manager about quitting and possibly going back to school. He offered to handle the situation and said we’d discuss it later, but I left early that day, overwhelmed and in tears. I still haven't fully recovered from that experience. The woman who confronted me has since changed after getting her thyroid checked and even apologized, but the embarrassment stuck with me. Then there was Danny, another technician who, despite being a gay man, had a knack for making people uncomfortable. He often boasted about his sexual exploits in a room full of older women, which felt completely out of place. I tried to ignore him, but it became increasingly difficult to deal with his inappropriate comments.

He started off by playfully teasing people about their mustaches, which seemed cute at first, but quickly turned into a brutal and uncomfortable vibe. It was like he was trying to assert dominance in a really awkward way, making everyone around him feel uneasy. Thankfully, he eventually left, but not before taking frequent smoke breaks during busy hours, only to return insisting he needed to control everything. Now that he's gone, there's another technician, let's call her Linda, who's always complaining about not being able to sit down, despite it being a stand-up job. She’s in her fifties and constantly talks about her miserable life, including her abusive marriage, which she seems to think is her only option. I’ve tried to encourage her to consider a life without that relationship, especially since her kids are grown, but she seems too scared to be alone. Meanwhile, I ended up becoming the pharmacy technician supervisor, not because I wanted to, but because I was too much of a people pleaser to say no. It turned out to be a huge mistake; the added responsibility and constant issues made every day feel overwhelming. She kept playing with the same old stuff and constantly complained about wanting to retire. I already knew her backstory—her husband had been abusive, and she believed marriage was her only option for survival. I suggested that there’s a whole world out there beyond marriage and maybe she should consider leaving him since their kids were grown and he had no hold over her anymore. I sensed her fear of being alone, but I didn’t want to dig too deep into that. I was busy dealing with too many mentally ill people myself, just trying to get through my workday. Eventually, I became a pharmacy technician supervisor because I was a people pleaser and didn’t stand up for myself. They figured since I didn’t push back, they’d promote me and give me a raise, which turned out to be a huge mistake. I hated that role; it came with so much responsibility and endless problems, making every day feel like a repeat of the last. It was like living in a hellish version of Purgatory. Unlike the show "Severance," where the characters have a clear divide between their work and personal lives, my memories from work haunted me constantly. I despised my job and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Thankfully, I managed to find a work-from-home position in the worst job market imaginable, but I still carry the weight of my pharmacy experience with me every day. Since I started working from home, I've been grappling with some serious PTSD. I’m not full-time at my old job anymore, just working every sixth weekend, which isn’t too bad. However, my manager keeps piling on more facilities and sites for us to handle, and while my colleagues are managing, I’m overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. I’ve had chances to return to my old job or even explore new opportunities in pharmacy, but I feel like a shell of my former self and struggle to function in that environment. On the weekends I do work, I actually enjoy it; I loved the job and the pay, but the toxic atmosphere really took a toll on me. It’s wild to think that three people who made my work life miserable are gone now, yet I’m still haunted by the verbal abuse I endured. Gloria was outright racist, Haven was emotionally unstable, and Danny was just a miserable guy who thrived on making others unhappy. When I left, Danny expressed jealousy over my new job, but he’s not happy where he is now either. Looking back, I should have left that job much sooner. I spent six years there, always thinking I needed to quit, but the pay kept me stuck. Now that I’ve been working from home for four months, I’m grateful, but I still haven’t healed and instead find myself dealing with PTSD. Thanks for letting me vent; it helps a bit. I have a few friends to lean on and I’m in therapy, but I still can’t shake this feeling, so I appreciate the chance to share my thoughts with others.

I am 45, a man who spent more than two decades building a life around one company, and this week I became one of the 30,000 people laid off at Oracle. Even writing that feels unreal. My whole routine was tied to work: morning status checks, backlog grooming, release calls, escalations, quarterly planning, the usual cycle that made every week feel structured, even when it was exhausting. I worked in enterprise systems long enough that I started measuring my own value in uptime, deliverables, and how well I could handle a production incident without showing stress. That is maybe the part that is hardest now. The laptop is gone, the access is gone, the meetings are gone, but my brain is still running like there is an active sev-1 ticket somewhere with my name on it. I wake up early and think I forgot to answer an email. I sit down with coffee and mentally start building a task list, then remember there is no sprint, no roadmap, no manager asking for an update. It was not just a job to me, it was the frame around my whole adult life, and now the frame is missing. I am trying to stay balanced about it, because I understand companies make restructuring decisions based on margin pressure, headcount efficiency, and all the words people use in leadership calls. I am not saying every person there was cruel, because many were not. Some were decent people doing their own version of damage control. Still, when you give your best years to something and it ends in one controlled conversation, it does something ugly to your sense of self, and I do not think people speak plainly enough about that.

What gets me is not only fear about money, though that is obviously there, it is the silence that comes after a life of constant operational noise. My wife asked me yesterday what I wanted to do with the afternoon, and I honestly did not know how to answer. For years the answer was already decided by calendar invites, dependency mapping, cross-functional reviews, performance targets, and one more urgent thing dropping into the queue. I used to complain that work followed me home, but now home feels like work is haunting it. I went to the grocery store and caught myself thinking in project terms, like I was optimizing a workflow. I stood in the cereal aisle doing capacity planning in my head about bills for the next six months. Last night I opened my notebook, not because I had to, but because I wanted to document next steps like I was preparing for an architecture review. How do you stop doing that when work trained your brain for years to see everything as a process, a metric, a risk register? I am asking seriously. Did any of you lose a job that had become your identity and then find a way to come back to yourself, because right now I feel like an employee account that was deprovisioned before the human being attached to it was warned proper. I keep replaying little memories too. The late nights before migrations. The pride after a stable release. The dumb jokes in team chats. Even the annoying people feel important now because they were part of the system I belonged to. Maybe that sounds pathetic, I do not know. I just know I am grieving something bigger than a paycheck, and grief is a strange process when the thing that died was mostly made of routine, pressure, and habit.

I am trying to be fair with myself and fair with reality. At 45, I am not ancient, and I know there are still roles out there where my experience in enterprise software, stakeholder management, incident response, and large-scale platform operations can mean something. I know the market still needs people who can translate technical mess into plain decisions. But confidence is not a switch, and I cannot toggle it on because logic says I should. Today I updated my resume and for one full hour I just stared at the section listing accomplishments, wondering if any of it matters outside the building I attached it to. I wrote things like service reliability, migration support, customer impact reduction, and delivery execution, and it all read so clean on the page, while I felt completely messy in real life. Maybe that is what I hate most, the disconnect. Professionally, I can make a coherent narrative. Personally, I feel scrambled and honestly a bit ashamed, even though I know layoffs are not a moral failure. I walked around the block this evening and tried to think about anything else, the weather, dinner, the neighbor fixing his fence, but my mind went back to org charts and what I should have done different, even if maybe nothing would have changed. So I am here asking a simple question that does not feel simple at all: how do you stop thinking about work when work was the main thing that organized your mind, your days, your pride, and your future? Do you replace the structure first, or do you wait for the thoughts to slow down on their own. I do not need perfect advice. I think I just need to hear from someone who understands that when a career ends suddenly, the body leaves the office before the mind does.

last night I was out with some friends and I don’t really know how to put this into words because maybe I’m just overthinking things but I’m also not sure if I did something wrong. I’m 28, a man, and honestly money is tighter for me than for some of my friends, I don’t complain because life is what it is, and we all have our situations. they suggested this restaurant and I went along, thinking “okay just enjoy it, don’t stress.” everyone started ordering these fancy meals, steaks, seafood, bottles of wine that looked very expensive, and I just felt a bit out of place. I didn’t want to be a killjoy, but I also knew if I joined in I’d end up with a credit card balance I couldn’t really manage. so I ordered one of the cheapest meals on the menu and a diet coke, I was happy with it, it filled me up and it was good enough for me. 😅 I didn’t think it was a big deal, but when the bill came everyone started saying “let’s just split it evenly, makes it easier.” I stayed quiet for a second because I didn’t want to make it awkward, but then I said politely, “actually if it’s alright I’ll just pay for my part, I only had this and that.” nobody yelled at me or anything, but the vibe shifted a little. it was like they weren’t expecting that, and I could feel eyes on me, like maybe I was being selfish or cheap. am I selfish for that? or am I just being realistic? I don’t even know anymore, because I felt like I did the fair thing.

to be clear, I didn’t refuse rudely, I just explained nicely and tried to keep a smile. I even offered to add a little bit extra for tip to make sure the waiter was treated well, because in my mind that’s the respectful part of eating out. one friend made a half joke, like “come on man, don’t be calculating, it’s just easier this way.” I laughed it off, but in my head I was thinking of the line “don’t spend money you don’t have to impress people you don’t like,” though I do like my friends, I just think the quote fits the idea. I never said that to them of course, I stayed polite. the funny part is that later one of them privately said, “yeah I get it, I should probably do the same sometimes.” so maybe I’m not alone in this feeling. I kept wondering if being honest about my finances makes me selfish, or if it’s actually more selfish to expect someone to cover an expensive share of something they didn’t eat or drink. 🤔 isn’t that an okay question? I’m not angry, I just want to see different perspectives.

in the end I don’t think it ruined the night. we still laughed, talked, and walked out together like normal friends do. I don’t hold grudges, I don’t think they do either, but there is a small part of me that wonders if next time I should just go with the flow and split evenly to avoid that moment, or if I should stick with what feels fair and honest. I like to stay hopeful that real friends will understand, that money doesn’t define connection, and maybe even that this could open small conversations about how not everyone has the same wallet. life is strange, sometimes I think it’s testing how we balance being kind to ourselves and kind to others. if you were in my shoes, would you have done the same? or would you think it’s better to pay the extra for the “group harmony”? thank you for reading, I mean that sincerely. I hope one day I won’t even worry about this stuff, but for now it’s where I am, and I want to stay positive and just keep learning.

so... am I selfish here?

It’s been 7 months since we broke up and I still miss him. Like really miss him. And it’s not just at night when everything’s quiet and the world slows down, it’s in the randomest moments too. Like when I’m walking home and pass that pizza place we used to go to, or when a song we both loved comes on shuffle, or when I hear someone laugh that sounds like him. I swear I’ve tried everything. I deleted our pictures, muted him on socials (I couldn’t bring myself to block him yet), threw away the hoodie he left at my place… but still, he’s in my head like a ghost. I don’t wanna be that girl who’s stuck in the past, who talks about her ex like she doesn’t have anything else going on. But no matter what I do, he keeps comin back in my thoughts.

We were together for two years. And I know, that might not sound like forever, but when you're in it, it feels like forever. He wasn’t just a boyfriend—he was my best friend. The person I texted about everything, the one I wanted to see first when something good happened, or when my world was crashing down. We had inside jokes and stupid routines and all the things that make you feel like this is it, this is the person. And then suddenly, it wasn’t. We broke up because we wanted different things, or at least that’s what we told ourselves. But I think deep down it was just that he stopped trying, and I got tired of begging for effort. It wasn’t one big fight. It was a slow death.

Even though I know the relationship wasn’t healthy near the end, I still miss the good parts. The way he held me when I cried, how he remembered how I took my coffee, the little drawings he’d leave in my notebook when I wasn’t looking. And yeah, I miss the physical stuff too—his arms, his smell, the way he’d kiss my forehead when he thought I was asleep. It’s like I’m grieving someone who’s still alive, just not mine anymore. And that sucks more than anything. Cuz he’s out there, probably fine, probably moved on. And I’m still here wondering if he ever thinks about me like I think about him.

I’ve gone on a few dates since, tried to put myself back out there, but it all feels... flat. Like I’m comparing them to him without meaning to. I don’t want to do that, it’s not fair to them or to me. But my heart still has his fingerprints on it, and I don’t know how to wash them off. People keep telling me time heals, and maybe they’re right, but no one talks about what to do during the time. The hours that drag. The nights you wake up hoping it was all a dream. The urge to text him “I miss you” even though you know it’ll only make things worse. I’ve typed that message more times than I can count and deleted it every time.

So if you’re askin how to stop missing your ex, I don’t really have a perfect answer. I’m still learning. Still tryna unlearn the love I gave so freely. What I can say is… let yourself feel it. Don’t rush to fill the space with distractions or someone new. Sit with the ache, ugly cry if you need to, write letters you’ll never send. Talk about it. Get it out. But also, don’t let it define you. You’re still whole, even without them. You existed before them, and you’ll exist after. I’m starting to remember who I was before we met, and even though that girl feels far away, I’m trying to reach her again.

Some days are better than others. I still miss him, but I also miss me. The version of me that wasn’t waiting for a text, wasn’t second guessing her worth. So maybe the trick to stop missing your ex isn’t really about them. Maybe it’s about finding yourself again, piece by piece. And maybe one day, I’ll look back and smile, not because it didn’t hurt, but because I healed anyway.

so, life took an unexpected turn recently. i'm a 54-year-old guy, and you'd think by now i've seen it all, right? but nope, life still surprises. my wife, the woman i thought was my partner through thick and thin, cheated on me. not just with anyone, but with my best friend. talk about a double whammy. i don't even know what hurts more, the betrayal or the fact that it came from someone so close. betrayal sucks, man. it really does. it's like having someone drive a stake through your heart and then just twisting it for good measure. ever been there?

i'm trying to figure out how to bounce back from this mess. you'd think at my age, i'd have the wisdom of experience to guide me, but every day feels like navigating a minefield. how do you rebuild trust when it's been obliterated? "time heals all wounds," they say. but let's be real, time can also make you dwell on stuff you wish you could forget. for now, i'm just taking it one step at a time. i leaned on some classic tunes dubbed "heartbreak anthems" and found a shred of solace in them. funny how music can sometimes be the only thing that understands you. oh well, i digress.

it’s a wild ride. i'm not sure where i'll end up, but isn't that part of the journey? i've read countless self-help articles, and some talk about forgiveness and moving on. i'm not sure i'm there yet. what does forgiveness even look like in this scenario? does it mean being okay with what happened, or is it more about finding peace in your own head? i've made a point of not letting bitterness consume me, though. staying hopeful, you know? it’s like that quote i once saw: "holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." ain't that the truth?

going through this ordeal with a positive lens is a conscious choice; after all, life's too short to wallow in negativity. i've decided to focus on what i can control. i started picking up old hobbies, keeping busy. there's something therapeutic about diving into activities that remind you who you are beyond the hurt. maybe someone reading this can relate. does getting back to a personal hobby ring a bell for anyone? hope it does. having little wins each day gives you something to look forward to. also, talking to a therapist has been a game-changer for me. it's nice to have someone just listen.

so, that's where i'm at right now. i'm trying to piece it all together. sure, it's not easy, but nothing worth having ever is, right? the affair recovery is more about healing than anything else. my story ain't unique, and i know there's a bunch of people out there in the same boat. if you're one of them, hang in there. life's a rollercoaster packed with ups and downs, but the ride's worth it. stay strong and keep moving forward; tomorrow's got to be better. and hey, if you feel like sharing your story too, drop a line. sometimes, it's easier to heal together...

I’ve moved all my life never in one house for long due to one parent. So I’ve never made relationships, either friend or love. Every time I do a few week later I move again. This parent always asked, “No girlfriend yet”, “Why don’t you go out with friends” and other of the sort. My answers were always “No” and “They are online”. I started online school a year or two before Covid as I was going to help take care of a family member but they never moved in, and with my constant move I decided to stay online, Covid didn’t help and I never had a high school life, prom or any of that. I did college for a year online as well but that’s because of something else in a bit.

This parent suggested maybe I join the military, so I did, I enlisted in the Army. I spent a year and some change months clearing my medical and prepping. A few months before I was cleared I met my first and only girlfriend through a milsim we were part of. That’s again, for later. But I signed my life away as a 68W Combat Medical Specialist with a 4k bonus and was extremely lucky to choose a first duty station. South Korea, I never made it but woulda been great. So I ship to FT Sill OK for BCT and train. I made it a few weeks before my legs gave and I couldn’t stand. I went to the medical center and doctors and after a battery of tests and imaging, I stress fractured nearly every bone from my hips (inside and outer) to my feet, grade 1-4, I also ripped many of my muscles in my legs, and had something called Rhabdo-Myolosis. On top of that I was diagnosed with Osteoporosis and told I was of no use to the Army. I was placed on confinement to quarters for 72 hours twice while they were doing all the testing spanning to weeks. Terrible, I couldn’t lay on the bed so I sat on the concrete floor, cold, for hours and hours only able to go outside for meals. Watching my battle buddy’s come in for brief time trying to get info from them. What are you doing? It’s it tough? How are you? But it was in vein. White walls hum of the ac, occasional drill coming into to check lockers and throw something. Before I was discharged I was placed in a medical hold unit, C95 Adj Battalion. Basically for people really hurt and can’t stay at their training battery. I would say this was the start of my decent into depression and honestly lunacy. It was only 50 days in there but they were ever long. White brick walls, no windows, in crutches and medical boots like my 72 hour holds, A tv that was always off because of punishment. It was a prison, insane asylum and hospital in one room. Phone maybe 2 times a week but never enough to tell my family what’s happening. On call of hey I’m doing great I’m feeling strong, then I basically shattered my legs and I don’t know what’s happening, to finally, I’m useless and I will never be the same again. I went mad there, I’m not okay now either, I can’t be closed in, I need to see outside, and the bricks, ohh the bricks. If I ever see them I absolutely lose it inside. That was it, from I’m going to be a soldier and prove I’m worthy and have amazing dad lore for her and our future kids to, dang, I’ve lost my dream job. But I was going home to my partner.

My partner and I, met on a milsim for a game. We were extreme long distance being across the ocean but we made it work. It started 3 months before I shipped to BCT. And she stayed all through my training. I thought a few times I’d get Dear John’d but I was lucky. Nope. 2 weeks after I got home she got shallow, and we never played a game together even though that’s literally how we met and played daily before I left. So on the end of week 3 I said I k ow you want this to end. Just tell me so I hear it from you. She admitted she wanted it to end and in short I agreed to her leaving. She said she will stay till I get my help from the VA. I said no, I don’t want to force you to stay, and it would take years. That was it. 7 months gone. I really felt I lost it all then. My core dreams. I had my dream career, health and woman. Then in 3 months all was gone.

A few months later the same week I had plans to visit her country and her, I had to put my dog down. I was done at that point. Everything I had.

I continued seeing mental health services at the VA and long story short I was put in an inpatient psychiatric hospital. I met someone there and decided to give each other a chance. I had my first date ever, and had my first kiss ever. Finally feeling the human connection I had craved for years. But I shoulda known better. Nothing works for me. That night I cried tears of joy, someone cares about me again, the physicality of humanity is perfect, she cried to, but cause she still loved her ex. Told me a few days later. And after many talks, I found, she used me, the pictures we took, the date, everything was to get him to talk to her again. I said I can’t continue talking to you after that. I may crave that connection more now but not at the cost of fighting another guy for someone and being used to get to him. Just. No.

So now I’m back at square one. Alone. I don’t have a job because my health limits work and no one will hire with my conditions. Back to being online and trying to make it through the day.

You ever have one of those friendships where you’re not sure how you’d survive without the other person? Well, that’s me and Jessica. I mean, life would probably be a hell of a lot duller without her sarcastic comments and loud laugh cutting through my everyday monotony. At 33 years old, I’ve realized it’s rare to find someone who not only gets your weird quirks but embraces them, likes an oversized sweater on a cold winter night. There’s this strange comfort in knowing that while the world can be filled with backstabbing and fake smiles, you have your best friend who unapologetically supports you, even when your life resembles a dumpster fire. 🔥

Jess and I met in college, both of us nursing unfulfilled dreams and a healthy dose of reality check. I remember one late-night study session that turned into us binge-watching terrible reality TV shows instead. We should have been revising for exams, but we were too busy critiquing the fashion choices of anyone who walked through that screen. Crazy enough, we somehow made it through college with decent grades, all thanks to the 'shared misery' index - if she was freaking out about her work, I could focus on mine. The amount of times we’ve nurtured each other through anxiety and doubt could fill an entire book if we wrote it. And isn’t that what friendships are all about? Building each other up, even when the world seems determined to tear us down?

But let’s not kid ourselves; there are days when I question why I even bother with this friendship. Sure, Jess brings a ton of good energy, but there are times it can feel like a toddler throwing a tantrum when they don’t get their way. Like that time she just showed up to my place unannounced with a bottle of cheap wine and an even cheaper movie, demanding we 'decompress.' On a Tuesday night. Seriously? Sometimes, I sweat bullets just thinking about how she manages to be both a wonderful support system and sometimes an exhausting drama queen. It’s an emotional rollercoaster I never asked to be on! 🎢 Honestly, I sometimes wonder if being this close makes me question her sanity or mine; still, she somehow balances my chaos with her own while insisting, “I’m just here to spice up your boring life!”

I guess that’s friendship for you. You recognize the red flags, that mix of frustration and loyalty bubbling beneath the surface, and yet you stay. You endure. And you lean on each other in those moments you just want to scream, "Why the hell are you like this?" But then there are moments of clarity, where I'd be lost in my thoughts and Jess would pop up out of nowhere saying, “Get it together, you got this!” It’s sincerely annoying yet oddly comforting; she holds me accountable without firing me up. It’s the kind of friendship that just makes you want to pull your hair out sometimes, but also genuinely appreciate the messiness of it all. And honestly, who can say they have that? 🤔 You ever find that friend who drives you crazy but is still your rock? What would you do without them???!

I'm in culinary school.

First semester still, but already sidelined during group projects because my inability to catch-up or get along with my classmates. We're girls in dorms. Call me a pick-me, but the boys are easier to deal with because a) I don't live with them and b) they actually do kinda listen more? I guess that's just the perk of pretty much having the same personality as some of them. I wouldn't say this is strictly a girl issue - but my GOD, do they get rowdy at night (the girls) and I'm suffering from lack of sleep. Should I even be telling them to quit, because it should be common sense not to cackle and disturb others at night? I live in one room with only one roommate. I've had psychotic episodes and I've had to pull out of class early today because they were making offhanded comments about me, which I get that they make about each other - but I'm not okay with it.

Imagine having to live with this for pretty much all semester, it just gets worse because they just swipe by the boundaries. And being hyper-sensitive to change of atmosphere and situation due to trauma, it makes me feel even more stressed and alone and I was seriously considering SUICIDE and self-harm. I feel like due to my anger, I view it as the best "TAKE THAT" option. See how much I hated them and how much they were the cause of my stress that I'd kill myself because of them. Let the memory of my bloodied body haunt them forever.

I don't wanna hurt anyone. I don't wanna be an inconvenience. My brain hurts. I don't think I can keep going.

I’m only 15 going on 16 and I’m already so stressed about life.

I have agoraphobia and selective mutism. My grandma is already talking about me getting a job and I feel like they’re gonna have me help pay bills since her and my mom have been struggling with bills for some time now.

My mom is never home and with her it’s a whole situation but I feel so alone.. I feel like I never got to be a kid and responsibilities just pile on responsibilities and soon I have to take regents exams.

I try to talk to my family about my issues but it gets dismissed because it’s just “bad energy” “nothings wrong with you” “unless you get brain scanned you don’t have anxiety disorders.”

I don’t even have my dad to rely on because I don’t talk to him and I hate being a burden.

I wish I had someone to help me and guide e through life I feel like I’m expected to do things my own when I’m terrified and honestly so damn tired of life. I don’t know how much more I can take before I just stop trying.

And there’s so much more but I have no friends to go to because they all just gave me trust issues by talking behind my back and saying “I’m sad all the time” when in reality I’m just vulnerable and scared. I’m scared to grow up, I’m scared of what life holds for me, I’m scared of my own future. I just wish I had more guidance instead of emotionally absent parents and a mother who cares more about her boyfriend than me.

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.

Little pick up after last vent or what not i wanted to vent to a friend and then well because she said if i was feeling like shit to talk to her or her/ our mutual friend and then when i ask doesn’t respond but responds to other i just feel useless i thought we were friends and then i i just get betrayed and you know whats worse i knew this was gonna happen at some point to like it always does theres only so much pattern recognition i can do and to be always right is fucking irritating like why cant i be wrong why do i have to be right every time meet someone new connect and then they leave like bruh at this its just a seehow many times i can be right game whats the point of friends whats the point of relationships if at the end of the day when they need help i help but when i need it i never get right fuck my life theres a reason why i just do it solo and bottle up my emotions man i wish i just never had them whats the point of it if i never had emotions then i can truly just be fine with being alone and not here voices and have shitty self esteem issue god i hate people