Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

So I'm trans for sure after much confusion, and I know I feel more comfortable as a guy than I do as a woman, but my issue is that I can't get any of the surgeries or even get on T to help how I feel about myself or my body because I am in a very religious family and currently living with Donald Trump supporters. I am actively looking for a job so I can move out, but no place seems to be accepting even if they are hiring, and I am just hating myself more and more because of the things my grandparents say. I'm not even sure if I could come out and not be kicked out. I just really needed to get this out someplace since I have been sitting with it since 2024.

I don’t even know where to start. For as long as I can remember, there’s been this feeling deep inside me, a constant whisper that I’m not good enough. Every day, I ask myself, why do I hate myself so much? And every day, I come up empty. It’s like I’m stuck in this loop, and I can’t figure out how to break free.

The crazy part is, from the outside, you’d probably think my life is fine. I have a decent job, supportive friends, and a family that loves me. But none of that seems to matter when the voice in my head tells me over and over that I’m a failure. It’s not like I choose to feel this way—it’s just there, like a shadow I can’t escape.

For me, the self-hate started small. I’d beat myself up over little things, like saying something awkward in a conversation or getting a bad grade in school. Back then, I thought everyone did that. But over time, those thoughts got louder, and now it feels like they’re all I can hear. No matter what I do, I’m constantly second-guessing myself. Did I handle that situation right? Did I offend someone without realizing it? Am I even worth anyone’s time?

Social situations are the worst. I’ll be in a group, and instead of enjoying the moment, I’m obsessing over whether people actually like me. I’ll replay conversations in my head for days, analyzing every word I said and convincing myself I sounded stupid or needy. The worst part is, even when people tell me I’m fine or that I’m overthinking, I don’t believe them. It’s like my brain won’t let me accept anything positive about myself.

And don’t even get me started on my appearance. Some days, I can barely look in the mirror. I pick apart every flaw, every imperfection, and wonder how anyone could find me attractive. I know it’s unhealthy, but it feels impossible to stop. Social media doesn’t help either. I’ll scroll through Instagram and see all these perfect people with perfect lives, and it just makes me feel worse. I know it’s fake, but it still gets to me.

At work, it’s the same story. I could spend hours on a project, pouring everything I have into it, but as soon as I hand it in, all I can think about are the mistakes I might have made. Even when I get good feedback, it doesn’t stick. Instead, I focus on the one piece of criticism or the one thing I think I could’ve done better. It’s exhausting.

The thing is, I don’t even know where this self-hate comes from. I didn’t have a traumatic childhood. My parents were strict, sure, but they loved me and did their best. So why do I hate myself? Why can’t I shake this feeling that I’m not enough, no matter what I do?

I’ve tried all the usual advice—positive affirmations, journaling, even therapy. And while those things help in the moment, the feeling always comes back. It’s like there’s this wall between me and actually believing anything good about myself. I’ll write down things I’m proud of or things I’ve achieved, but they always feel small compared to the weight of everything I think I’ve failed at.

One of the hardest parts is how isolating it feels. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way—there are forums and articles and videos about it—but in my daily life, it’s hard to imagine anyone else struggling like this. Everyone around me seems so confident, so sure of themselves. Meanwhile, I’m over here just trying to make it through the day without falling apart.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever feel differently. Will there ever be a day where I wake up and don’t feel this weight on my chest? Or is this just who I am—a person who’s destined to hate themselves no matter what? I want to believe that things can change, but honestly, I don’t know how to get there.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the same way, I wish I had answers for you. I wish I could tell you how to stop feeling this way, but I’m still trying to figure it out myself. All I can say is, you’re not alone. And maybe that’s the first step—just admitting that we’re struggling and trying to find a way forward, even if it’s messy and imperfect.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for now, I’m just trying to hold on to the hope that it doesn’t have to be like this forever. Maybe there’s a way to break free from this cycle. Maybe one day, I’ll look in the mirror and see someone worth loving. Until then, I’ll keep asking the question, why do I hate myself?—and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find an answer that helps me heal.

I don't know where else to vent, I feel like I've unloaded enough on a friend of mine and don't want to burden him any longer so...

My Grandma passed away not too long ago and there's some drama going on about the will. Apparently, some aunts and uncles have been manipulating Grandma to give them more things or be given things that other people have taken better care of. Like my cousin wanted to buy Grandma's house after she was moved out of it and she was willing to sell. But then some aunts got in her ear and made her make my cousin pay more for the house. One of the aunts said I would be named in the inheritance, my Mom thinks it's because Dad died and his portion would be split with his kids. She told me not to sign off on anything.

Then again I've heard her non-stop complaining about everything about Dad's side of the family which increased after he died. Pretty much have been discouraged from talking to anyone other than a select few she likes. Part of me understands considering some drama but also feel like she doesn't have the best judgement. She tends to talk down to me even though I'm an adult now and constantly calls me wet behind the ears even when I express interest in going outside my comfort zone and doing new experiences to be not so wet. But of course, she's the Mom and I'm the child so in her opinion she seems to know everything and she's always right, and I'm always wrong. When she asked for my credit card password and I said no she was all "Thank you for trusting me." But who in their right mind would share their credit card password with anyone? Who knows where that info will end up? Then there was the time in high school when I started having a tough time and asked if I could go to the doctor's to see if I had depression. But of course, she said no, I didn't have depression because I didn't act like she did when she had depression. Later I would get so nervous about school that I would get physically ill and I eventually called the doctor myself. And what do you know, I was prescribed anti-depressants. Recently, I was diagnosed with blood clots in my lungs but before that, I had a really bad cold that even took away my voice for a bit. But one night it got so bad I couldn't sleep and my chest was in serious pain. I had a bad feeling so I called 811, they suggested I get Mom to take me to a hospital. I tried to get her to but she refused, insisting it wasn't that serious. But it didn't get better and after half an hour I called a cab to take me to the hospital. There I was diagnosed with pneumonia and stayed there for just over a week, even spent two days in the ICU. When Mom finally came she was all apologetic but when I was checked out I learned she told relatives and friends the reason she didn't take me was because I wasn't clear enough. Even though both the 811 operator and cab driver saw it was urgent and that I was having trouble breathing. It was clear enough for them but not for her?

I believe she thinks I'm a goddamn idiot and so naive I need to have my hand held for every goddamn thing. If I could move out and cut out most people from the family I could but apparently I was hit with anti-employer spray because I can't get a job in my field to save my life. I feel useless but also feel like I could snap at any second. When I tell Mom how I feel, she turns it around and says it's my own fault for feeling that way. When I tell my siblings they either go on about how both sides are to blame or take Mom's side. The same Mom that screamed at them for other things, including one where she threatened to disinherit one of them from Dad's will for not doing what she wants. Granted it involved staying with a not-so-great romantic partner but her having a fucking meltdown only pushed that sibling further into the arms of the fucking creep so it took longer for my sibling to finally break it off with that jerk.

I do have a therapist that I talk to but he's not cheap and I leave still feeling furious. He does give good advice but I never feel myself in the right headspace to act on said advice.

It feels like I'm in a fucking soap opera only the people around me seem to think I'm oblivious to the whole shitshow. It feels like I'm one bad day away from exploding and I don't know how to defuse this timebomb.

My partner Clara and I have been organizing our wedding for August 2024, following a two-year engagement to allow us to gather funds. Coincidentally, my mother got engaged over the recent holidays and has her wedding planned for the end of May 2024. This places our weddings barely two months apart.

Clara was taken aback when she learned about my mother's plans. She questioned if I found it odd, which initially, I didn't. Clara expressed concern that having a parent marry so close to their child's wedding was unusual because the child’s event should ideally remain the focal point. She mentioned that her own parents would never schedule their wedding so close to hers.

My mother, who’s a seasoned wedding planner with a generous budget, has definitely shifted the family’s attention towards her own wedding. Recently, Clara felt slighted at a family gathering. When the topic of her dress fitting came up, someone asked if my mother had seen the dress. Responding in jest, Clara said she wouldn't be taking my mother dress shopping in fear that she might end up trying on gowns herself.

This led to a tensed conversation where my mother confrontationally asked Clara if there was an issue between them, leading to Clara just rolling her eyes. For the rest of the evening, my mother’s fiancé and I had to keep the two apart. Later, in the car, I pointed out to Clara that her comment was unnecessary, which upset her further. I tried to explain that I understood her feelings but also stated that my mother might not prioritize our wedding the same way, which probably wasn't the best thing to add at the time. Clara became noticeably quieter and was reluctant to discuss it further, making me realize I might have been too harsh.

If this scenario unfolded in a reality show, I can only imagine the fans rallying behind Clara, sympathizing with her feelings of neglect and overshadowed preparations. There might even be debates on social media about whether my mom was stealing the spotlight or if Clara was overreacting. It would definitely stir up drama and opinions among viewers, possibly making it a much-discussed episode.

My girlfriend has a wildly diverse taste in music which led to a heated debate last night.

We both share an apartment equipped with a superb sound system in common areas like the kitchen and living room. When I'm in charge of music, I prefer playing a full album to enjoy its continuity.

Contrastingly, my girlfriend loves shuffling through a playlist of her own crafting. Just to give you an idea, last night's sequence was baffling. It kicked off with Garth Brooks' "Friends in Low Places," followed by Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie," then "Pink Rover" by Scene Queen, moving on to "Dangerous" by Cascada, and "Dogma" by KMFDM.

Midway, I suggested maybe sticking to a single playlist or album, or at least something less jarring. She explained it was her custom cleaning playlist, packed with high-energy songs perfect for chores.

I jokingly remarked on the eclectic nature of her choices, which seemed a bit chaotic to me. She defended her selection as personal favorites, energizing and varied. Pressing further for something less intense was met with a reminder that she was cleaning and deserved to choose the music.

I pointed out that it was a tad extreme, but she dismissed my comments, defending her playlist as just her style. The evening went on with another hour of arguably the most bizarre mix of tunes I've ever encountered.

Now I’m thinking, maybe I was harsh? On one hand, the music felt intense for a shared space, but it seems she might have been silently tolerating my musical preferences too without complaint.

Imagine if this was all aired on a reality show, the drama would be quite the highlight, sparking debates and perhaps even comical reactions from the audience. People might take sides or suggest compromise solutions, playing up the tension for entertainment.

I guess I should have been more thoughtful about her music choices?

So I'm continuing a rant I made on here I accidentally posted unfinished (here it is, btw)

So basically, I'm in online class due to having this heart problem that's called VSD (ventricular septal defect), and it makes me lose my breath easily, and I get palpitations every time I run. So there's no hope of actually going to face-to-face schools due to walking long hallways and going up stairs. And there's barely anyone in my online class that I can be friends with. It makes me feel a little lonely, and I'm an introvert. But just because of the sole reason of wanting to be alone, I don't want to be lonely, y'know? And because my class starts from 8am to 4pm, I have to stay home for 8 hours, which makes me feel a little isolated inside my house. And when I go out, I can barely even have fun anymore since I always lose my breath so easily. I can't even swim in cold pools and beaches since I get cold so easily. At family gatherings, I can barely even hang out with my cousins since they go out every night. I can't, though. It's basically because I get cold so easily and I can quickly get sick and have a runny nose. I barely even have any friends to talk to; last time I went to school when my disability wasn't a challenge, I had tons of friends. But now, I've only had one friend from my old school that still keeps in touch with me. And she has regular class, so I can't really chat with her every day. Plus, I barely know anyone that shares the same interests as me. Sometimes during online classes, I use my phone during lessons. And technically, every now and then I use my phone to cope with the fact I barely have any friends to talk to and have fun with because I find it fun to use my phone since it's not reality; it's the opposite. It's getting out of reality.

Now getting to my main point, I feel so lonely. Like even an online class is isolation at this point. It's the reason I'm an introvert. At this point, I was made to be an introvert. I'm always alone; I barely talk to anyone anymore; I barely talk to my only friend because I have no enthusiasm to hold a conversation these days... I feel like something's wrong with me. I feel so bad for ignoring her. But I can't find any joy in continuing to talk to her. I don't know what to do. She's so kind too. She's my best friend. She doesn't even know my disability. I keep it a secret since I feel like she'll judge. But I know she won't. I just don't know why I continue to not tell her. I feel so bad. And I feel like my online class is the reason. I feel so isolated, I can barely have fun anymore. I can't even hang out with people my age in my neighborhood due to my disability. So I just stick to cellular devices. I hate online classes. I skip. And now I regret it. I've already been scolded for doing so. But I still keep doing it. It's causing my academics and grades to crumble. I do bad at school now, even before I skipped online classes. I always used to be a 90+ in my old school. Now I'm an 80-91 student. I hate everything about online classes. The school, my teachers, the isolation I feel, the loneliness, my grades—I feel so insecure. And the only reason I accepted going to this school and taking online classes was because I had no choice. My other school's tuition was something my parent's could barely afford. And the online class thing, it's because of my disease. I turn to God and worship him so I wouldn't get in trouble. I would pray I didn't. Plus, just now, I had a grade of 76, and my mom is asking the teacher's if I'm doing something wrong. I am; I'm still skipping. And I feel like I'll get in trouble today. Plus, I have exams next week. Am I just overdramatic because I'm young? I'm not even a teenager yet, nor older than 12. Am I just overreacting? I actually need help on this topic. I'm too scared to even vent to my mom since I keep every emotion bottled up. I want to cry every day. I feel so bad. I feel so guilty for skipping school now.

i never thought i’d be googling to know how to cry... like seriously, who does that? but here i am, 19, sitting on my bed with the curtains half open, some lo-fi stuff playing in the background, and this really weird urge to cry. not because i’m feeling anything that deep in the moment, but because everything’s been so... flat. like emotionally mute. i don’t even know if i’m sad or just tired or if those are the same thing now. it’s not about making a scene or anything dramatic, it’s more like i want to shake something loose inside me. like pressing a reset button on my soul or whatever.

some people say to think about something really painful. like, for example, remembering the day my childhood dog died. i tried. i really tried. i pictured his face, the sound of his paws on the floor, the last breath he took on that cold vet table. nothing. just this weird lump in my throat and a tiny sting in the back of my eyes that faded as quickly as it came. another tip i read was to just stare at one spot for ages without blinking. did that too. looked straight into my bathroom mirror like some haunted soul waiting for the reflection to blink first. still nothing. not even a tear. just red eyes and a kind of blurry headache. 😂 why does crying feel like some exclusive club i got kicked out of?

i talked to a friend about it—well, kind of. i said something vague like, “do you ever feel like you need to cry but can’t?” and she was like, “yeah, totally, it’s called being emotionally constipated.” which, tbh, kind of made me laugh. but the more i think about it, maybe that’s what it is. emotional constipation. like the feelings are all backed up inside, swirling around but never making it to the surface. sometimes i feel like there’s this invisible dam inside me holding everything back, and crying would be like cracking it open for even a second. i read a quote once that said, “crying is how your heart speaks when your mouth can’t explain the pain,” and honestly that hit. but my heart must’ve gone mute or something.

i’ve also noticed that the more i try to force it, the more impossible it gets. it’s like the tears know i’m waiting and they’re being petty on purpose. there’s no button to push. i’ve tried sad movies—The Green Mile, Grave of the Fireflies, even Up. nada. i get the message. i want to feel, i really do. but something’s broken. and maybe that’s what’s scaring me more than the actual not-crying part. maybe it means i’ve gotten too good at numbing myself? or maybe i’ve buried stuff so deep that i don’t even recognize the feeling when it’s right in front of me? have you ever felt like your emotions are behind some soundproof glass, and you’re screaming but no one hears it—not even yourself?

idk, maybe crying’s overrated. maybe i don’t need to cry, maybe i need to talk more, or scream into a pillow, or just go on a walk and listen to music that punches me in the gut. but still... there’s something weirdly healing about a good cry. people say it clears your head, helps you sleep, resets your nervous system. and i want that. i want to feel something real again. not just this grey, flat version of living. so yeah, maybe it’s dumb to ask “how to make yourself cry?” but honestly, if you’ve been there too, if you’ve ever sat in the dark wishing your own tears would just come out and mean something—then maybe you get it. maybe you’re as stuck as i am. and if that’s the case, what did you do? how did you make the dam break?

Is it normal to just have siblings who you can’t run to? For years, I’ve relived my mom and grandmother’s funerals. It pains me that God took away all the people that truly showed up for me. I don’t know how to get over this loss and my life isn’t getting better. I thought I’d finish school just to get a better job but Surely maybe I was born to not have anything. I can’t seem to get used to a life filled with delay. I hate everything about myself. There’s nothing valuable about me or my life. How does one take away their pain? What’s the easiest way to ease it? I have been trying but no luck. I just want someone to give me a solution to everything

Over the past couple of years, I've been assisting my sister, Emily, with caring for her two young children. This arrangement started during the pandemic when both she and her husband found themselves overwhelmed with managing remote work and looking after their kids. At that time, it felt natural to offer my help without expecting anything in return, considering the circumstances and the family bond we shared.

However, life has since returned to normal, and we're both back to our regular routines with demanding jobs and personal commitments. Despite this change, Emily continues to expect that I would babysit at least once a week, often more. What troubles me is her lack of acknowledgment; there's never any offer of payment, and not even a simple word of appreciation. It seems like she's taken my willingness for granted, assuming I'd always be available.

Last week, I reached my limit and expressed to Emily that I could no longer provide free babysitting services. I explained that if she needed my help, it should be reciprocated either through payment or with gratitude. Her response was far from understanding—she accused me of being selfish and insisted that family should always be ready to help each other without expecting anything back.

I believe in family support, but it feels like I'm being exploited. All I'm asking for is some recognition for my time and effort, or maybe even a break now and then from this commitment. Emily's reaction has been to stop speaking to me, and our parents are pressuring me to apologize just to smooth things over.

Honestly, this whole situation has left me wondering if setting these boundaries makes me unreasonable. It makes me think about how this could play out if it were part of a reality TV show, where family dynamics are on full display. Would viewers sympathize with my need for appreciation, or would they side with Emily, viewing my requests as unnecessary family drama?

I'm curious, what do you think?

A few weeks after an intense Father's Day, my mother, her new husband, and I found ourselves in group therapy. This decision was fueled by their frustrations with my refusal to embrace the family dynamic they envisioned. We initiated our sessions towards the end of July, and by the end of August, tensions had escalated: during one session, my mom, teary-eyed and distressed, labeled me a liar, deeply wounded by what she perceived as my efforts to undermine her marriage.

The accusation infuriated me—I had been truthful throughout our discussions. I detailed my perspective in the subsequent session, highlighting my feelings about being wrongfully called dishonest. My mom interrupted repeatedly, dismissing the therapist's attempts to mediate and doubling down on her accusations against me.

To understand the core of our issue, it's important to consider the backdrop. Three years prior, shortly after my mother’s husband entered our lives and a mere two months before they married, they proposed we become a 'family' again. The notion included him stepping into a fatherly role—filling the void left by my father's passing. During a discussion in February, they outlined a hopeful picture of our future as a unified family, including celebrating Father’s Day altogether. I was clear from the start: I did not want a replacement for my dad, nor did I intend to celebrate Father's Day with him. Despite this, they laughed it off, but when the day came each year, the issue reared its head again. This past year, he lost patience, complaining about my absence on Father's Day and his unfulfilled role.

My mom's claim of deceit stemmed from her belief that I had agreed to forge a closer bond with her husband and to partake in family traditions like Father's Day—promises she insisted I made. Her allegations were baseless; I had been explicit about my feelings and intentions from the beginning.

Throughout therapy, the therapist struggled to maintain a balanced dialogue, often unable to rein in my mom and her husband's dominant presence. Frustrated and feeling unheard, I eventually withdrew, engaging minimally. It was only recently that they noticed my disengagement, which I confirmed, demanding an apology for the false accusations before I would reconsider my participation. This sparked further frustration from them, accusing me of stalling the therapeutic process.

In an environment like a reality show, my stand could potentially evoke mixed reactions from the audience. There could be a strong empathetic response from viewers who appreciate my steadfastness in preserving my father's memory and recognizing the complexities of blended families. On the other hand, some might view my actions as stubborn, perhaps misunderstanding the depth of my emotions connected to my father's absence and the significance of Father's Day.

Would I be justified in demanding an apology?

My good friend Lisa is tying the knot next month. We've been pals for a decade, and I'm looking forward to celebrating her special day. Yet, the lead-up to this joyous occasion has become quite the financial strain.

The wedding is set to take place abroad, requiring a pricey flight and a stay at a high-end, all-inclusive resort. To attend, I requested a week off work, rounding up my total expenses to approximately $2,000. It's a steep price, but Lisa means a lot to me, and I wouldn't want to miss her wedding.

The complication arose a few days back when the maid of honor, who I’m not particularly close with, messaged all the bridesmaids. She proposed we each shell out $500 for a lavish wedding gift, like an exclusive honeymoon package or a bespoke luxury item. This request caught me off guard since the cost of simply attending was already substantial.

I reached out to the maid of honor privately to express my inability to stretch my budget further, offering instead to purchase a meaningful gift within my means. Her reply was disheartening: "Everyone else is contributing. It'll look bad if you don't, especially since Lisa has always wanted this."

Despite the pressure, I remained firm on my decision, unable to justify further financial strain. This stance, however, has led to an uncomfortable rift among the bridesmaids, with some implying that my refusal is a sign of being stingy or unsupportive. It's left me second-guessing myself, though deep down, I know overextending myself financially isn’t wise.

Indeed, if my dilemma were part of a reality show, the drama and tension would certainly boost viewer ratings. Arguments and disagreements are often amplified on-screen, portraying a heightened version of reality. It's possible that cameras and an audience might have influenced the other bridesmaids to pressure me further, pushing for a highly emotional, scripted resolution. Yet, one can only speculate whether this added scrutiny would lead to solidarity among the group or if my stance would be portrayed as the rational voice in an episode filled with fiscal folly.

So, am I wrong for refusing to contribute an additional $500 for a wedding gift considering the significant costs I've already committed to just to be part of Lisa’s day?

My mother has 3 daughters. I am the youngest, with two older sisters. My oldest sister died of a rare form of cancer 2 months ago. She was only 35. Saying that we were close is an understatement. We lived together and worked together. She was my very best friend and understood me on a level I don't think anyone ever will again. My middle sister is also my bestfriend, but the relationship is different. She's a very selfish person. She doesn't know how to be any other way. Before my oldest sister died, they were in an argument and not talking. My middle sister doesn't feel guilty about that at all..saying she knows without a doubt they would have been talking again soon. Well that's not neccesarily the truth. I know so much that she doesn't about how my oldest sister was going to cut her off completely. She still loved her, but just didn't like her anymore..and as mean as it sounds, her reasons were valid. I could never share that with my middle sister of course..but sometimes I wish I could. She has made comments lately that have made me so angry. She has said, "I'm so sorry we lost our sister. She was so much better to you than I can be." And you know what shes freaking right. My oldest sister was better to me, and the family. She cared for me and about me. She was selfless. So if my middle sister wants to sit and talk with me, looking for pity when making those statements... I'm going to come online and say the one thing I would never say aloud. you're right. It should have been you.

I couldn't finish 3 of my exams. I couldn't the last 2 questions of biology, I couldn't finish 1 section in Hindi, and I couldn't finish half the paper in maths. I will fail even all the subjects. Maybe I didn't study enough for all of them. I'm a failure to everyone. I'm a failure in life. I don't have friends, I studied but I didn't have practice, I'm apparently rude to everyone and everything, I can't even draw like my beloved artists, I can't do art in the future because you'll replace me, and I won't pass school next year. It may be the second term and I have one more, but it's not enough. I'm not enough. I've never been. The list should've helped me because I would've been a great human, not the defective fetus my parents were given. That's all I am. Failure. Always will be, unless I figure out a way to just stop. Stop harming others with this mess, because my existence of failing alone is bad.

Nobody wants a failure, nobody wants to fail. Because look where failure got others. People failed to check the reactor core of Chernobyl, many people of Ukraine and other countries died. Someone scored very low in school, he was held back a year and continues like that, even though he's happy now. Someone failed a driving test, so they never drive again because they probably ran over someone. Someone failed an exam, and their parents beat the hell out of them or they get horrible treatment. Someone out there failed to get his family any food in a poor village and they die. See? Failure hurts and it destroys. I hate it when books tell kids in school failure should help you learn. It helped me learn to not fail and resent it. My parents may have been fine, but I don't care. I'm a failure, and I should leave the house because I said so. Dad's right when he says lots of Indian families hate failure, I should too. He's not right when he says it's not good.

Look where it fucking got me. I feel like I failed in everything. How am I gonna make it in this world? I won't. If I fail in one more thing, I'm a useless child. I hate it when they say you can learn and do better from failure. I hate it when dad says not to fear failure. Look where failure got others in the real world! Death! Destruction! Famine! Held back a year! Abuse! More death! This will happen to me. It will. Didn't failure hurt them?

That's why I'm a problem. I may have been born by loving parents, but right now I feel like they secretly hate me, even though they seem fine. I burnt everything I touched, maybe this fail is it. I failed at maintaining 1 friend, at succeeding exams, at being nice and humorous, at being smart, at looking good and being in the trend, many things. I'm pathetic. I'm the worst thing ever to happen. Why even though I studied I couldn't finish the paper? I'm too slow like a snail, that is! I hate it when my mom said not to think on her behalf. Making predictions is what we do. So even if she scored 5th topper IN SCHOOL, why is she telling me she also failed? It's a lie! Farce! She's lying that she failed. She's not showing love, it's a story she cooked out of her ass. If I hate myself, I'll get better. I'm a worthless, useless, piece of shit, vagina candle smelling, stupid, pig-like, hairy, baboon-ish creature who deserves to not live for all her fucking failures.

I don't feel good about what I've achieved. At the cost of scandals and failure, I've made friends, my father succumbed to giving me money, to having everyone under my thumb, and it's very unpleasant. I don't like being on top of the world. How can people find that funny? I don't find it funny at all.

They always make up any excuse to accept the fact. I mean, they do everything, they knock down expectations for whatever reason, and as a result, they fall flat. However, if it's someone who respects them, then no. They kick the guy, they do everything to him, they demean him. I was in this guy's shoes. Why? The world seems upside down.

I don't like the way things are. I went crazy with a girl, and now she's accepted me on Instagram. I was rude to a girl, and she reacted unconditionally. These are just some examples. I called my father shit, and now he's opened up. All of them in an effort to do things right, to avoid disappointing me.

Why should I make a fuss to gain respect? I don't think this is in any way a measure of self-respect; I don't like it this way. I feel like everything should have been carried out calmly, but I'm already worried that things aren't going to happen this way. On both sides, it's detrimental to my health, except that if I make a fuss, I get social approval. In other words, what I'm doing to myself becomes more unconscious.

I don't feel right. Frankly, I wasn't taught to put this into words. I was always taught to boast about it. I feel like I'm on a kind of throne from which I want to step down. I don't know how some people can tolerate being at such heights. Why do we fight to be there? It doesn't feel good at all. I feel like I'm a kind of tyrant, and justified, too. I don't know; it's a feeling that I'm being led to my own death.

When they were bad, at least they gave me the chance to escape from what was affecting my health. In this case, when they are good, the chance is smaller; I feel restrained, forced to comply, and to continue harming myself. I feel I was better off in the first case, where I saw how people, under their freedom, appreciated my respect. In this moment, when they are no longer under the same deception, I only see a downright lie, an even more selfish desire to please me. In the previous case, this is not the case.

How ironic the way things are. I, who deep down so much wanted to be one of those who had others at their feet, a whole world supporting me, find that no, that in the end, such a world is nothing more than a lie. And now that I think about it, I think it's crazy to think that there will be many who are good to you and few who aren't. I think this is a bad sign, but the opposite is true, when we act in the name of respect, justice, and also peace, which I believe not everyone knows how to navigate in such a terrain.

In short, if everyone likes us, then they're not seeing us because, in principle, not everyone has the time to see us in detail. It seems like those exceptions are miraculous because if they see us, even if it's in a detached way, in contrast to the others, it just allows them to visualize things. When a few people like us, then they do look at us, but at least they do so in profound detail, while the majority, it seems to me, usually don't see us and therefore act with a certain indifference. However, all of this is within limits; that is, I'm speaking of a good case, a case with details, of a majority that isn't violent and of a few who are so little fanatic; it can't be the other way around either. I feel that when we reach extremes, there's only so much trouble in our lives, regardless of the modus operandi of the majority and the minority.

I don't feel it's right—I'm thinking of some kids who remain distant when I greet them, and when I say goodbye, too, and I don't like that; I feel like I'm adapting to something I don't like. I feel like I'm abandoning that kid who felt others treated me unfairly. However, it seems to me to be the right thing to do because I rightly saw others' treatment as unfair when in fact it was the opposite. What else are people going to do? How many have had the opportunity to appreciate what respect is? I prefer to wander through life and find someone who, in fact, sowed such a question and reaped the same rewards. I think I should give myself the opportunity to find tremendous treasures and also give hope that it can be done to those who have been in my shoes.

I don't know why I feel like I'm thinking in a haphazard way. I can't really organize my thoughts. It just happens that I feel like there can't be a precise rule or something like that. Maybe I'm looking for ways, references, to get to know people. I feel a bit confused. I was never taught to understand how to understand Including people in my life. It was all about working with what I'd already done, with what was already there, but never forging new relationships. My parents didn't have the capacity; they scared them away. In fact, they managed to scare me away. I think my parents succeeded, or the best they could do, was to distance themselves from me, as was the case with my family in general, because I felt they wouldn't appreciate me. I don't know, I don't feel healthy, or entirely sane with these words, but well, speaking at length is a start.

I insist, everything feels confusing. I feel like maybe I'm using those filters my parents taught me to have people by my side. I feel like everything I've said, as funny as it may seem, I don't like it, I don't feel it's appropriate, but maybe it is. I don't know how to go out into the world. The successful things I have as a reference for going out into the world are people who were like a kind of wolves, perfectly selfish people who achieved great success among the masses. I feel like maybe some of that has rubbed off on me, or maybe not. I don't know, but I don't feel like I know who I am, specifically, because I feel like I haven't fulfilled my role, either with my family or with those people, but with myself.

I'm noticing that when I don't fulfill my creative goals, I don't like it; people reject it fiercely. But when I do, I feel like I don't know who I am. I don't find myself in others, and I was taught to find myself through others. By the way, I don't know when to go to a psychiatric emergency room. The thing is, there are no emergency numbers in my country, and I think that's the first thing I want to discuss with my therapist. I can't always be perfect, and I feel like I sometimes fall apart. I don't have their number and no one else to turn to. I also don't know how to manage my current situation with what I have. I know what I have is useful, but I don't know how or what things. I feel like I'm really fading precisely because of this belief that I find myself through others. Also, I don't want to create a personality, an imposed concept, because I feel it's limiting, it doesn't allow me to broaden my horizons, or well, at least not in terms of what could describe a process, a continuity.

I don't know what's happening to me, honestly. I feel like I'm more processing who I am right now, ceasing to see myself in the past.

I'll try to express my feelings as clear as possible (my mind usually goes blank when I go and try to type stuff), and I'm sorry if I might come of as rude or inconsiderate, it really isn't my intention. Trigger warning of dark thoughts mentioned, if that's appropiate.

I'm particularly a young person, at the end of my teenage years, and I feel that life hasn't been going so well. I do well academically, even have that fame of people expecting good stuff about me, yet it has been a long time I have felt any proud for this. Thing is that I am lonely, and have been this way pretty much since the start of my social life. I am not in the position of being bullied, which I am grateful to be. Actually, people are usually nice to me, but that's the limit. Nobody has been interested in becoming friends with me. I was fine with it before, but it has been hurting more and more as time passes. I have tried many times to make social interactions, which is a huge step for me—it takes a lot of courage for me to go out and expose myself, because I tend to be socially anxious. These just end up as simple, friendly conversations, and sometimes even embarrassing. After I try to keep contact with them, they just seem like they aren't that interested in forming a friendship. I know it IS a process, but it is hard to keep it up if you sense the other person not wanting to get into it.

Life in my school has been very simple, I just try to be a good student and be cool with everyone. However, people only get to acknowledge me when they need something, and sometimes I feel like I'm the last choice for that. Hell, I sometimes even feel like a robot following commands. If I am honest, all my school life just feels like a cycle. I wake up, prepare and go to school, receive classes (that's just it), and head back home to sleep and start a new loop. This cycle has gotten me tired lately, and it is hard to try to break it, since I can't make it any more interesting. Unlike other schools, mine doesn't have any clubs, and I can't really talk to any of my classmates, because they have grown up with this picture of me being quiet and unapproachable, and it hurts to be seen that way.

My life at home isn't that good also. I try to finish my homework rapidly, and then try to see what to do with my free time. Most of my free time has been spent learning about math and coding, which I love, so they have been my main time wasters. There's not much I do after that. I have online friends, but I feel severely disconnected from them. About my family, I love them, but I don't think I can talk to them about this, and I have reasons for that. My father is my closest familiar, but he doesn't like me expressing vulnerability, and let's not even mention my mother. She says she loves me, but I have felt that she just gives me what I need to live, and doesn't teach me about how to do stuff myself, like cooking or washing properly. She is a real angry person when (easily) provoked, and uses everything given to her against others, honestly I have felt like a burden to her.

Sometimes the whole idea of feeling lonely brings me to dark places. I start to question if people would miss me if I was gone. I have no intentions to do anything against myself, but I sometimes do wonder. I feel like a ghost in this world. No matter how hard I try to form bonds, these break apart. There aren't many options for me, either. My parents restrict me doing a lot of stuff that is usually advised in these cases. Sometimes it feels that I have no one in this world, that I am unlovable. I have to keep all my hardships within myself because I don't have anyone. And about the idea that forming connections as an adult is harder, brings less hope for me. It is all just so confusing, and so hurtful. You feel that you cannot connect with anyone, and don't know why. I sometimes wonder if I wasn't supposed to be in this world, that I don't fit here. It feels that you are the odd one out, in an ocean of perfectly aligned pieces of a whole jigsaw puzzle. I just stand here and wish I was "normal."

I sincerely don't know, I feel like it would be nice to have someone who can do stuff and talk with me from time to time, and not by obligation. I just hope someday I get to meet someone, and for it to actually work, for a first time in years. Hopefully my life in college will be better if I place effort on it. It would be nice to hear if someone here can relate to these feelings, and if you want to talk about it, I'm all ears. Even though I am an introvert, being alone all of my time sometimes gets to me. Any advice to my situation is welcomed. I hope you have a nice Christmas Eve, I'll try to have one.