Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Uh yeah. So my best friend, we'll call her Katy. She like's physical touch, but she seems to only like it when it's from me. She's always asking for hugs, but if anyone besides me so much as headpats her, she's like "MRRRRR" and yesterday, she sent me an email (we email back and forth yk) and the email had four questions from her, and one of them was "would u ever date me~" and so I just answered with "uh maybe possibly hypothetically theoretically alphabetically historically rhetorically numerically" (cuz why not? it's funny) and she hasn't said anything else about it so... but she also often just takes my hand and holds it in hers, and sometimes kisses it, but I mean that could just be her liking the touch... idk. I'm kinda confused. My other friend, we'll call her Rose, says Katy totally likes me, but I'm not really sure.

I'm scared of dying in my sleep, knowing that it can happen at any time. And you wouldn't even know because you won't wake up if it happens,

you lay in bed and close your eyes, ready to go to bed and wake up the next morning but the fear sometimes lingers with me. Which sounds stupid when you say it out loud because it would be the most peaceful way to go right?

but at the same time, i feel like to me it's the hardest way. Not the aftermath of it, but just knowing it could happen and what others would think. You don't get to say goodbye, you can't give a last message. What would my online friends think? that i ghosted them but in reality i died?

It's the being afraid of dying before living life to my fullest. What if i die before getting to live as a guy? before i come out. If the last thing they know me as is a girl when all i want to be seen as is a guy. Is that just part of the fear? the fear of dying, but also the fear of leaving things unfinished. Like there’s still so much you haven’t gotten to do yet? I know i will die someday but it's always a feeling that stays because what if i don’t get the chance to be me before that happens?

It’s just one of those thoughts that makes everything feel a little more real than i want it to feel. Sometimes i'm stuck staring at the ceiling trying to distract myself with the thought that i will wake up. But my brain just circles back like it’s looking for an answer that doesn’t exist. Because you won't know if you don't wake up.

Am i just afraid of dying young? and is there a way to ease this feeling a little?

Hey there, folks. So, I'm a 31-year-old guy, and I got a little thing going on that's starting to bug me. I can't stop laughing at everything. Literally, everything. Just last week, I received a not-so-good appraisal at work. Imagine sitting there with your manager who’s all serious and in-the-zone, saying, "Steve, you just don't seem to take anything seriously," and all I can think about is whether he too smirks when he sees funny cat videos 🐱. But really, it's becoming an issue. The corporate world wants commitment and focus, and here I am, laughing my head off at the smallest things like a sitcom on a constant loop.

This wasn't always a problem. Before this job, I worked in a startup where humor was almost part of the job description. We had ping-pong tables, bean bags, and a boss who laughed louder than any comedy club crowd. But now, things are... different. 😅🫤

I'm in a structured environment where meetings use terms like "KPIs," "cross-functional synergy," and "enterprise risk management." It feels like my inclination to laugh doesn't fit the bill. My manager's talking about the fiscal year-end, and I'm biting my lip trying to suppress a chuckle thinking, "Where did my carefree emoji moment go?"

So here's my question: How can one dial down the humor radar? Some might say maturity, but does growing older mean shedding away that joyous laughter; that isn't the solution I'm looking for. I'd miss the light-hearted me. Luckily, I think there's still hope. I remember reading on some blog once, "Laughter is the best medicine, but it's about the dosage." Maybe that's the trick? Moderation. Learn to redirect when it's time to listen and laugh later.

And still, I ponder over whether I can do it. Would mediation help to calm down spontaneous giggles? Could immersing myself more in serious articles, like the economics section of the newspaper, create balance? Some say it's about training the mind, and I bet they're right. But I’m hopeful that with practice, I'll learn to contain it when necessary and still keep that lively side of me intact. After all, if we don't occasionally laugh at a good ol' meme, are we even living life to its fullest?

I feel really just numb today. I keep forcing a smile onto my face because it's my birthday, but whenever I'm alone I zone out completely and allow myself to feel nothing. This morning was really difficult. I almost missed the bus because I couldn't find a reason to get out of bed. But hey, I didn't miss the bus. Now I'm here at school, being ignored by people I now see to be my ex-friends. So why did I get out of bed this morning? I have no idea. I'm in band class as I type this, supposed to be practicing for Solo and Ensemble but listening to Paralysed by NF on loop while playing BitLife and ignoring the fact that my two ex-friends are sitting so close and not even glancing in my direction. Nobody at school knows today's my birthday except for Angel, my bestie. So woo-hoo, happy birthday to me I guess. Angel made a little birthday song for me: "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, let the gayness run through you, happy birthday to you" and yeah, when she sang it, I forced a laugh and a smile, but I didn't really feel much. I just thought, "Perhaps that was meant to be funny. Guess I'll laugh now." so yeah. Guess depression got the best of me or something. I dunno.

You know what's super wild? Having these little anxiety tics that just pop up whenever I'm feeling even a little off. I mean, I’m 21, and it still catches me off guard how my body reacts to stress. Like, one minute, I’m fine, chatting with my friends or whatever, and the next, I'm biting my nails until they bleed or tapping my foot so fast it feels like I’m in some kind of weird race against time. It’s like a switch flips, and suddenly I’m a mess. Ever had that feeling? It's such a buzzkill, especially when everyone else seems chill around me, and I'm there like a human metronome, just going off!

Last week was a prime example. I was getting ready for this big presentation in class, and I thought I was totally prepared. I mean, I studied, I practiced, I even did that classic thing where you imagine the audience in their underwear—okay, maybe that didn’t help! But as the day approached, my hands started to shake, and I couldn’t stop fidgeting. At one point, I caught myself pulling at my hair, which is probably the worst habit ever. Then I paused and realized, wow, this isn’t just me being nervous; it’s like my body’s way of screaming “HELP!” without actually yelling. And of course, I didn't mention it to anyone because, you know, who wants to sound like a total drama queen? But then again, it made me think about how many people deal with this sorta thing, right?

In my head, I was just trying to convince myself that it was normal, that everyone gets anxious about presentations, but man, when those tics take over, it feels like I'm a puppet on strings, moving uncontrollably. Some days I feel like I need to put my foot down and say, "Listen, body, you can chill," but then it’s like reality hits and I’m just another 21-year-old trying to figure out life. It’s honestly exhausting! Some people might suggest breathing exercises or meditation, and I’ve tried those, but it’s like my brain is this buzzy little hamster on a wheel, just going and going with no signs of stopping. Plus, who has the time to sit in silence when there are notifications going off every five seconds? It’s like the more I try to relax, the more on edge I feel. Ever been in that spot where you're so wound up that you can't even think straight?

I guess I should be thankful that I at least recognize these tics for what they are; it could be worse, I know. But, sometimes, I can't help but doubt if I’m even managing it right. Like, each time I notice myself scratching my wrist or tapping my pencil to the point where it’s practically splintering, it’s this annoying reminder that I still have a long way to go. I mean, who doesn’t want to feel like they're in control, am I right?! It’s frustrating to think about how these little behaviors can throw me off my game, especially when I'm out with friends. Like they'll be laughing and having a good time, and I’m sitting there, trying to hide the fact that I'm about to burst into a ball of anxiety. It's tough trying to blend in when you feel like you’re standing out for all the wrong reasons. So, yeah, if you’ve got any tricks to calm those nerves or manage those sneaky little anxiety tics, I’m all ears;

In my early twenties, I started working with a life coach named Lydia, who built her philosophy around achieving everything one desires despite feeling unfulfilled with her privileged background. Lydia, who was affluent with an upscale job, lived alone in a plush city apartment. She preached about manifesting one's dreams into reality, which resonated with me deeply.

I was drawn to her because she claimed that by manifesting our desires, we could attain perfection in all areas of life. Now, five years later, I realize I haven't achieved everything I envisioned, leaving me frustrated and skeptical. This experience has highlighted a recurring pattern in many promising messages from life coaches and inspirational books that claim one can 'have it all.'

Is it really feasible to achieve everything you desire, or is the concept far-fetched, especially coming from those who may not have experienced significant hardships or the trials of genuine struggle?

Imagine if I shared my frustrations on a reality show. The audience might resonate with my struggles or criticize me for following such idealistic advice. Would they empathize with the disillusionment, or judge the impracticality of chasing such a perfect life?

Do you actually believe you can 'have it all'?

I'm in a bit of a bind here, fellas. My wife has just entered the whirlwind stage of menopause, and I'm standing like a deer caught in headlights. I mean, we've been through life's ups and downs together, but this one caught me off guard. It's like a roller coaster, and I’ve come to the stark realization that I don’t have a clue about how to be of any real help. I want to be there for her, but all I seem to do is put my foot in my mouth. I read somewhere that patience is key, but how much patience is enough? Is there some kind of magical guidebook for husbands out there? Trust me, I’m all ears if anyone cares to share it. This said, the mood swings are no joke. It feels like one minute we're reminiscing about old times, and the next, I'm in the doghouse for God knows what. Not to be insensitive, but even dogs need a break. I just want to wave a flag that says, "I'm trying, okay?" It's frustrating to be stuck in this losing battle where you’re trying to help, but everything you do just seems to miss the mark. “Persistance is key,” they say, but what does that even mean when you’re walking on eggshells?

In my humble opinion, someone should really write a “Menopause for Dummies” book with a special section just for us poor husbands trapped in this new reality. I keep hearing suggestions like "be understanding" and "just listen," but sometimes I wonder, are those just words thrown around, or do they actually mean something deeper? After all, you can’t exactly listen when the house feels like it's under siege. It's like I’m halfway through a Netflix series called "Midlife Chaos," and there’s no option to skip the episodes. Am I being overly dramatic? Perhaps. But surely, others in my shoes are feeling a similar kind of, let's say, discomfort. At 53, I thought I'd encountered most of life's surprises, but menopause is a whole new beast. If there’s a cheat code out there, I would be forever grateful. And hey, what does “be the rock” even mean when I’m feeling like a pebble myself? Maybe I’m just ranting into the void here, or perhaps someone out there can offer a lifeline. So, to my fellow clueless husbands: how are you holding up, and what’s working (if anything)? 🤔

People should stop judging people based on what they post on social media , messages sent to their friends and family or what insults and jokes they sent to their loved ones specially if it was done illegally without prior consent. They've only seen a 3 second conversation yet they haven't reflected to themselves they have gotten the messages illegally snooping into network and illegally obtaining them yet they want to be called " perfect". Oh and doxxing is also illegal add that to your "perfect" nature. Lol

i care for one of my friends greatly, and i really do love being friends with them, but i also feel a deep-rooted hatred toward them.

i've realized their actions toward me are negative, and i hate how ive been treated, but i still feel a close connection. this hatred with how ive been treated has turned into hatred for them in general, and i feel very guilty for it.

how can i get past this, or explain it to them, without sounding like a bad person?

I am an Indian. I know to keep it anonymous but revealing my nationality brings me no harm.

A day ago, I was writing my in-progress novel. It was nearing 11 PM. I went to get my night dress from the room in which I sleep (it's not mine, I don't exactly have my own room in this house, but that's no worry), and went to the washroom to change. My brother was watching TV. I told him to turn it off by the time I return. He always dismisses everything I say, because I'm the useless sort in the house. So of course he dismissed this.

I returned from the bathroom and pushed against the door to the room in which my brother was, and it didn't open. I went to the balcony to try the other spare entrance, but that door was locked too. My uncle and grandmother were asleep. They heard me bang the door, and my uncle appeared out of his room. I told him what was wrong and he tried several bizarre methods of unlocking a door, calling out my brother's name, turning the door handle over and over.

Truth was that my brother had fallen asleep while watching TV. It was late night, wasn't it? The fucker locked the door from the inside for a reason even I don't know. He was in a deep slumber, that my uncle's or my voice didn't reach him loudly enough to wake him.

My grandmother can't walk without her cane. She has fat legs, and lung problems, so she kept saying how him (brother) locking the door rattled her and how her body was shaking. I tried to calm her down.

Mother and father had gone to dinner, so grandmother phoned them to return home ASAP, because father keeps a bunch of keys with him, one of which would fit the door's lock and unlock it. We just had to wait. I waited patiently and calmly through the tension, because panic would have been fuel to the fire.

Even amidst all this, grandmother and uncle kept saying how I was the one who went to the washroom, I was the one who left him alone, and henceforth I'm the irresponsible one. I tried to tell them I am no prophet, I wouldn't have in any case known that the idiot would lock the door while I'm away, much less fall asleep. It wasn't my fault, no matter how one saw it.

Father returned with mother in a few more moments, grabbed the keys and unlocked the room's door. Brother lay sleeping. I slapped him awake (literally) and then uncle and mother entered the room. Uncle didn't say much to him, since he is a little better than controlling his anger than the other two.

Father hit him and slapped him and kept asking him to why he locked the damn door, and mother stopped him by saying that he was still groggy and shit and hugged him. Father kept shouting. All was going well for me until...

Petty grandmother mentioned how I went to the washroom and left the little fucker alone for 15 MINUTES. Hear that? 15 MINUTES. Not even 20. I sometimes sing or think out some plots for my books in the bathroom, so I sometimes lose track of time, but that night I was more than a 100% certain I was gone for only and only 15 minutes.

I had tried all the ways and techniques I could to convince the old woman otherwise but noooo, I'm the one at fault. Always.

I shouted in frustration, that IT WASN'T ME. And guess what? Father got mad. Grabbed me. Slapped me once. Shouted in my ears. Gripped me by the arm and told me not to "look that way at him" because I wasn't meeting his eyes. My mother just stood there. My uncle told him to not hurt me. So he just yelled. Grandmother said nothing.

And then the next day my mother, the woman I despise for so many reasons, comes to "talk" with me (translation: scold and control me). I have not spoken to father since that night, it's been only one day. I wanted him to apologize. He had no reason to hit me. Why can't adults just hit their heads somewhere and understand that they are NOT the wise owls they think they are, that they glorify themselves as?

The woman told me that it was wrong of me to treat father that way, and because the two humans gave birth to me, they "have every right to hit me". NO YOU FUCKING DON'T. I AM NOT YOUR PROPERTY. Child or not, I am my own person who believes that hitting does nothing but give a child trauma for life, make them fear adults, FEAR THE MERE SENSE OF TOUCH, feel like they are at the adult's mercy, or worse, teach them hitting = making the child realize what's right.

That's where the title comes in. Ego and self-respect. Often....Most of the time,... okay nevermind, always, these two words are confused and used synonymously in this blasted Indian parenting universe. ..Fuck I hate this country (ps: I am not patriotic at all).

Mother told me to "lower my ego", as she put it. What I have isn't ego. I simply respect myself enough to know that I don't stand with the wrong. I don't care who does it. Wrong stays wrong. And I feel sorry for those who have no idea of self-respect. I feel sorry for their self-esteem.

Mother told me that children must apologize, that adults never do so because.... they're adults. Okay. I get that they are older than me. They have been on this planet longer than I have. They have seen things I haven't. BUT SIMILARLY, I have seen things they haven't. We're equal. We're also equal on the fact that at the end, we're all humans with a load of emotions.

Mother justified father hitting me because he was terrified for my brother and did it in a fit of rage. So if I yell in a fit of rage, that is not justified? Then you will hit me for raising my voice? He's lucky I'm not 18 yet, and that I don't have any malicious intent. Hitting a woman is assault, ain't it?

Mother told me that father works and wonders day and night for me and my education... But have they ever thought for my inner well-being? NO. BECAUSE THAT IS JUST A HALLUCINATION. IT'S NOT EVEN THERE. I get to hear that money buys no happiness, and no they contradict their own statement, implying that technically, money DOES buy happiness.

I'm not happy. I'm depressed, angry, broken, neglected, sad, hurt and hopeless. And if I tell them this, I'll get hit by the "you're only 17" reply. Because apparently they are stuck in their own angsty life to help me with mine.

They tell me I'm rude. Well, sent me to a fucking therapist then! I want help but can't they get the hint that I'm not able to express it to them because they are all daft shitheads? Why can't I express? They've given me no reason to bestow them with my trust. I trust my friends more. For me, water is thicker than blood. I don't even know who wrote the stupid saying anyways.

Mother told me to make him a sorry card and buy him a chocolate. Okay, I'll do it. Not because I want to, but because I'm genuinely tired of this woman's idiocy. First she neglects me and constantly fawns over brother ("he's younger than you) and now she tries to give me lessons in lowering my "ego"? I have ego, I won't deny. But this, this isn't ego. It's a strong sense of respect for my own being. Every time I try to cultivate it, they kill it in one way or another.

Please treat your children better. They don't deserve this. They are not your puppets. Not your property. They are yours to take care of, so stop doing things that make them grow distant.

It's amazing to know that a 17-yo has a better sense of parenting than two parents combined.

I felt lonely and unsafe growing in my own home because of problems with my dad might be aggressive and not enough attention from my mom. Trust felt impossible in there. I use videos and AI for comfort, but what I feel empty still, like i need someone real to be close to and turn to for anything. It feels like that might never happen and its just fantasy, and maybe I don’t deserve love, but I’m sharing this anyway because I need my question answered, do i deserve love, do consider im a mess and i maybe too sensitive which made me betrayal my dad, yet reconnect is hopeless, having tried it, and im lazy and always tired to do anything, cuz those arent good traits, and no one would want to try change me anyway, also that i might be seen as too much, sorry if this sound like attention grab

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.”

Honestly, there is more than just my school that i wanted to talk about, so ill put it in also right after school, first thing is that in school, im always told by my friends that most of our classmates or people in the school hate me, only cause they say im over dramatic, a main character, and more, i guess its cause im the only one who tells them to be quiet of fix the chairs when its required…

But its not like i dont know about this before my friends told me, i know people hate me, i always hear them whispering my name, mimicking my voice or even hearing my friends tell me they heard them say fat jokes about me, like that i only came to the certain event for the food..

I would tell a teacher, but i worry ill get hated even more… and its hard already considering most of the people there hate me, and i wont be able to tell my family either, cause last time i did they keep cutting me off and get mad when i snapped at them or tried stopping them from spreading their version of my story, where it would seem like im the one at fault…

But it might be true though, what if im the cause of such things?, what if even if i try doing it cause its good, ill only be seen as annoying?… what if im not soft hearted and in fact im just the over dramatic freak they say that cries or gets mad too easily?

What if when i tried venting to my friends, they were correct when they told me im the reason for such things and that im the cause of family drama, and that it is all in my head?…..

Its easier to tell these through a message than to speak them, after all, i have no one left to talk this to, and if i tried getting therapy, my family would call me crazy… what could i possibly do?….. and am i too young and just misunderstanding everything even though i have felt this way for years now?….

So my brother is apparently 'sick' but my mom doesnt believe him, so she told him that he was going to school instead of staying home. my brother kept on saying that he wasn't. me and my brother share a room btw. i was getting in some extra sleep while my mom and my brother were arguing, since I was ready by 7:10 am so I still had a good 30 minutes to sleep. when I woke up my mom called me down for breakfast. when I went downstairs I saw cereal witb honey on it, but there was a really small amount of milk. I genuinely cant eat foods if I dont like the look of it and I told my mom that I didnt want to eat it. my mom started yelling at me to start eating it. then my dad came in and started yelling at me. I told my mom that im sorry but I still dont wanna eat it. after that my mom threw the bowl of cereal at the table (it didnt break). she was just screaming at me about how much of a brat I was and then she threw the bowl of cereal into the sink. I just ran upstairs and started crying. then she told me to come down because I still need to eat. when I came downstairs and she saw that I was crying she just started acting like she wasnt the one screaming at me. she was hugging me and saying "dont cry sweetie". when I kept crying she started yelling again and then went back to comforting me. she gave me some leftover banana bread, but I was only able to eat an ⅛ of it since I was crying so much that I lost my appetite. after my mom dropped me off at school I went up to my friends. I was trying not to cry, but I just started crying infront of my friends. they were very confused and just stood there silently. after my classes it was time for lunch break and I told my friends why I was crying in the morning. they never gave their opinion on the situation, so do I have a right to be mad at my mom?

Hello everyone, I don't vent usually but I need to share my feelings. I have been in a relationship for 8 years. Lets call him A, we have been on and off, because we fell out for a few years but this is a new story. He reached out to me to reconnect and start dating after a long period of no contact. We were going strong happy we would work it out if we had conflicts. I believed that love can be worked out and he did too we both agreed on most things but we did have a conversation about having kids. I didn't mind if they're adopted, ivf surrogate or even biological. I am a trans man so at first I had to think about it but I wanted kids with him I wanted our future together. He knows I'm trans but I wanted to let him know what if I couldn't have them? I don't think I couldn't but I just wanted to see his reaction well he just went to you don't want kids then. That wasn't true but we seemed to figure it out ever since then I felt like he didn't feel the same way before but he assured me everything is fine I'm just over thinking. Fast forward to now, were long distance we live 8000 plus miles apart we both are focused on visiting each other, he was going to see me but he said something happened where his work won't let him get PTO. I've met him multiple times younger so I made the choice to visit him in his country although its not the most supportive of trans people anyways I tell him hey I'm going to come then he buys a house. A house there lol to visit me. In return that made him tell me to wait I got really upset because it felt like he made plans to stay there for now even though I've been trying to work for a future with him. He hits me with, do you really want kids? I said yeah I do and then he says even to breast feed? I'm like wait no what I'm trying to get top surgery. Its my body and I feel like bottle feeding is better. Anyway that was so shocking to him he almost crashed his car. This made him feel like he lost the fire and it was so important that he said its not going to work. I told him I'm okay I'll compromise but he said he will never see a future with me and he's afraid of me being in the future “my kid my choice” to him a kid is a final thing and he's scared of what I might do. I feel offended but sad I wanted to reconcile he said he loves me so much, but I changed the whole core of our relationship. He says I pushed him to making it forever cause I said well if you see no future that means we can't be in each others life and he said that's fine but he loves me anyway. He wishes that I'd be forever there but no future :(.