Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

So I have a tight knit friend group and we have known each other for a long time ( say 15-16 years ). So we are currently on a break from class and all of us were supposed to go out on this upcoming Wednesday. However, due to the place being closed we won’t be able to. So my best friend ( let’s call her Z ) told me that we should go today ( just the two of us ) as we don’t get to spend time together that much, the reason why the entire group didn’t go is because one of our friends had class. I asked Z if our other friend ( let’s call her Y ), who has previously said that she wants to go out can join us too but Z was hellbent on spending time together and have a one-one hangout. So I spoke on the phone with Y and she got a bit upset, which is totally understandable.

Later, at night we saw that my friend who has class today went to the movies with another one of our friends today and texted in the group chat that why did Z and I create plans without them ( we didn’t even go ). Today, my friend Y ( who wanted to go with us ) was like why are you even sending me reels you don’t even want to hang out with me…….

Like the thing is I understand why they are upset but everyone goes on a one-one hangout.

I’m honestly so lost about what I should do about this.

BTW I apologized to Y and explained to her why Z wanted to have a one-one hangout right after she asked me.

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.

these days im not in the mood to go anywhere. my friend is getting married this week and she lives farrrr away from me. it took 4 hours from my place to go hers and im scared if i go there, it will not reach my expectation (in a simple words, im scared getting ignored since it has been more than 5 years we didnt meet).

i also have concert on december but im not in the mood to go (thinking to resell the tix) and i feel like the possibilities of me getting disappointed is higher than happy and satisfied. i feel like if i want to get my sparks back, i need to go to the concert but i feel like its not worth it..

does anyone know what am i going through actually? and is there any ways to make me feel contented again? :')

so, here's the thing: i'm 31, living what many might consider an enviable life. i have a pretty sweet gig as a project manager at a reputable firm, the kind of job that keeps me moving, challenges my brain, and supports a lifestyle that others might dream of. but here's the kicker – despite all the successes that are supposed to fill my heart with contentment and joy, i can't help but feel like life has lost its sparkle. you know how people toss around "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy"? well, it turns out being the work-focused jack (or jill, in my case) isn't particularly fulfilling when you're coming home to an empty apartment every night. 😕

am i doing something wrong here? i mean, i spent my twenties hustling to build this career, thinking i'd eventually slide into the whole husband and kids scene like it was a given. except... i just haven't found that particular groove. how do people have it all? a fulfilling job, a loving partner who gets them, sunny mornings filled with laughter and weekend adventures with friends who feel like family. some evenings i curl up with a cup of tea, staring out the window at the bustling city below, feeling like i'm watching life happen rather than actually living it. is this some phase i'll grow out of, or is there something i'm fundamentally missing?

maybe i'm being overly dramatic here, but i've seen those aspirational quotes floating around the internet, like "life is not about waiting for the storm to pass but learning to dance in the rain." these thoughts swirl in my head while i ponder whether i'm just a part of the human race's rat race, unable to break free from the seemingly endless cycle of work, eat, sleep, repeat. i'm wrestling with the concept of how all these accomplishments seem purposeless without personal connections that truly matter. and then there's the matter of friendships—or the lack thereof. ever noticed how adult friendships are this fragile dance of juggling schedules and priorities? makes me wonder how others cement those lifelong bonds without sacrificing their aspirations.

i remind myself there's always a sliver of hope, though. i mean, life's got to be more than this, right? maybe it's time to invest some energy into meeting new people, forging authentic connections, and reminding myself that embracing change is part of the journey. perhaps the lesson here is about resilience, about finding that balance between professional success and personal satisfaction. i'm not giving up. far from it. is there a magical formula to balance career and personal life? perhaps i need to remind myself, as c.s. lewis said, "you are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream." and who knows? maybe the best is yet to come. here's hoping for a future filled with more than just my career – one that radiates with warmth and genuine human connection.

Yo! So, I'm 22 and my friend hits me up with this whole "30 day self care challenge" thing. She's like, "Girl, you gotta try this! It's life-changing!" 🙄 And I'm just sitting here thinking, really? Is it all that?? Has anyone else dared to try this? I'm genuinely curious, peeps! Like, do these challenges even work, or is it just another overhyped trend? I mean, sure, taking care of yourself is important, but is doing it for 30 days straight gonna magically change everything? 🤔 Anyone care to share their experiences? Did it help in making life less of a mess? Any tips or hacks from those who've survived it, please??? 😅

You know, I'm kinda hoping this isn’t just an Instagram-worthy illusion. If you’ve done it, what was the best part? Is it more than just bubble baths and face masks? Don't get me wrong, those are awesome, but surely there's more to self-care? 🤷‍♀️ Help a girl out!!! Would love some lowdown on stuff that doesn't just pad calendars but actually works! Like, what do you do when the motivation is in the gutter? Any specific "must try" days? Spill the tea, fam!!! ✨ Looking for those nuggets of hope and positivity. Because, hey, life's too short to play a guessing game with self-care. Am I just overthinking it, or is there something more profound here? Hit me up with all the good stuff – quotes, routines, wisdom – whatever!! Who else is ready to slay and take some quality 'me time' seriously? Let’s make our lives better together, yeah?? 💪❤️

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 a girl with a problem that feels basic and annoying, and i hate how predictable it makes me look. i have a biiiig crush on my best friend, the kind that leaks into every interaction like a system failure you can’t debug. we talk every day, share meals, share silence, share the boring logistics of life, and my brain keeps running a risk assessment that always ends in the same useless conclusion. i monitor my tone, manage boundaries, and pretend this is just normal friendship maintenance, when really it is emotional labor i never agreed to. the attachment feels asymmetrical, like i am over-invested in an asset with zero guarantees, and i am aware of it in a cold, technical way. i can label the feeling, map the triggers, and still not shut it down. i hate that i replay conversations for signal-to-noise ratio, searching for proof that i am not delusional. i hate that i am this careful, becuase careful people don’t fall this hard, or so i thought.

the worst part is that nothing is actually wrong, which makes it harder to justify my irritation. she is kind, consistent, and emotionally literate, which somehow makes the situation worse. there is no villain, just me quietly failing at self regulation. sometimes i catch myself acting like a product manager of my own feelings, prioritizing features like closeness while postponing the obvious bug fix. i keep thinking i can optimize my behavior, that if i tweak the inputs i will get a different output, but that is not how humans work. i know the standard advice about communication and honesty, and i know the potential fallout, and my brain runs through the scenarios like a compliance checklist. i don’t want to contaminate the friendship pipeline, but i also don’t want to keep investing in something that is draining my bandwidth. i feel stupid for wanting more, and i feel rude for resenting her for not magically knowing, which is unfair and definately on me.

so here i am, venting like this is a controlled environment instead of a mess. i keep things factual, almost clinical, to avoid admitting how much it hurts. i don’t romanticize it, i don’t write poems, i just log the data and feel tired. part of me wants to disclose and accept the consequences, part of me wants to de-escalate and reclaim my autonomy, and both options look bad on paper. i wonder if this is just an attachment style issue or if i am ignoring a clear internal warning. i don’t know how long i can keep pretending that my best friend is not the central variable in my emotional equation, and i am starting to feel a little bitter about it 😐. have you ever stayed silent in a friendship like this and called it maturity, when maybe it was just fear and alot of avoidance dressed up as logic?

hey there.... rn I feel so good lol , uk why .. okay first let me tell you that I'm a 21 years old female...and I am rn at just so calm... I feel nothing inside me... and nothing outside... not in a good or bad way..but idk why i feel like it's a temporary feeling of calm... or u can say I calmed myself through non stop dopamine hits lol ... and that's bcoz ... there's this guy online whom I talk to daily...and I feel like omg I'm so obsessed with him.. with his voice..with his questions...with his banters... with him teasing me indirectly through questions lol...ughhh why it feels so good lol....I'm really obsessed with him...like I continuously check for his texts lol ... like yesterday we talked for about whole night...and slept in the morning lol...I'm really more in comfort talking to him rather than having sleep of 7 hours lol... which I can take later...sorry world I don't wanna hear ur advices for my health...I already know it lol... but I love this feeling lol... no we're not bf gf... but we just love talking to each other so much ...it gives us so much peace in the whole day lol...and today lol he slept at 2 am... so I was like why lol...ik lol that it's wrong to think that...both of our sleeps are imp.....ahhhh but I already miss him so much lol....this feeling god....I feel a new calm inside me.... like I don't feel like talking to anybody else online... I don't feel like watching a movie or any entertaining content....but I do want to so something else lol.... but ngl he's always on my mind lol.. can't do anything...when I get his text or vm ... ahh that dopamine hit lol....

idc what the world says that I'm distracted or anything.... cuz I love this feeling even if it's temporary lol..I already know that ur gonna say I'm distracted.... but this introvert girl got so much open to him lol about her life....that now there's a new confidence inside me lol...I love our talks really...I always miss him... don't judge me lol.... but this is what I feel rn lol

And chill ik the stuff that ur gonna say that focus on urself... don't fall for this temporary dopamine hit... don't get distracted ...

But hey world listen I'm obsessed to him can't do anything rn lol... just love this feeling lol...

I feel like I'm the floating friend yknow? Like in my friend everyone has their own best friend someone who just clicks with them but I feel like I don't have that someone that I confide in. I'm always the first person to chat in the group chat when I want to hang out, most of them only text me when they need help and I feel left out most of the time. I don't know if I'm being irrational or not. I don't think I can talk to them about it tho, I feel like it will cause conflict.

whywhywhywhy

they hurt me but I don't know if its worth it to hold on to the anger. I don't really need to hate them anymore. so what do I do.

The celebration of Canadian Thanksgiving is quite a tradition in our home in the United States, owing largely to my stepmom's Canadian heritage. Every year, her mother travels from British Columbia to host a grand Thanksgiving feast for our mostly American family. But, truth be told, my step-grandmother, whom I affectionately refer to as my “step-grandma,” lacks a certain finesse in the kitchen. More so, her personality brims with passive-aggressiveness, especially during our festivities. Each year, without fail, she magnifies her culinary efforts, expecting endless adulation for her rather unsavory dishes.

Every Canadian Thanksgiving, my husband and I find ourselves designated as the dishwashers, a task we’ve reluctantly accepted. While I don’t inherently mind washing dishes, being the sole helpers when we are guests starts to feel more like an imposition. Originally, it seemed logical since we were the youngest adults, but over the last few years, even as my stepmom’s younger relatives joined, they’d quickly retreat to luxuries like the hot tub, leaving us to labor alone. It’s particularly frustrating when I'm interrupted during rare moments spent playing with my nephew I barely see, only to hear my step-grandma's loud hints about needing help in the kitchen, followed by my dad enlisting us yet again.

The previous year marked our move to a different city. When the annual celebration rolled around, they inquired if I would attend. Initially, I hesitated and eventually declined, citing uncertain reasons before outright refusing even their offer to cover our travel costs. Truthfully, it wasn’t about not being able to go; I was simply tired of the unfair expectation that we, alone, should contribute through chores while others socialized or relaxed.

Discussing this with my two older brothers brought mixed reactions. One brother sympathized, understanding my frustration, while the other dismissed it as a trivial issue. This leaves me questioning: am I being unreasonable here?

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality show. Cameras rolling, capturing every whisper and conspicuous glance, the tension and the drama heightened for viewers at home. How would the audience react to seeing one family member consistently laden with tasks, their genuine annoyance veiled under polite compliance? The dynamics of sympathy versus judgment from the public could swing widely, possibly siding with me for feeling singled out or against me for making a 'big deal' out of family help.

Given this context, I wonder if my frustration is justified or if I should just accept these family roles silently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One of the major problems I've observed while exploring the world, from my new way of life—radical solitude, seeking the greatest possible economic and social independence, to the point where I construct my own reality, which delves into so many diverse realities that I can't possibly agree with the idea of ​​a single, monolithic reality, which I find extremely dangerous—is that many people live by trying to escape their problems quickly, instantaneously, as if their lives, their individual parts, were somehow waste or something like that. I've noticed that this is most prevalent in social problems, while the essential aspects, where there's less reflection, are the market products, where there's greater context. But in the social sphere, this is practically and completely abandoned.

I set out to follow basic principles of socialization, those established by professionals, but I encountered a world that thrives on the very things from which those principles—those mistakes—originated, and I was utterly stunned. Things I had already overcome, some people haven't; instead, to my surprise, they continue to delve into them, by any means necessary, without any restraint, digging deeper and deeper, leading me to wonder, "When, for God's sake, will these people hit rock bottom?" I'm frightened because the social aspect, the very atom of our composition that is society, isn't taken seriously. This is reflected, dramatically, in the lack of consequences for the results people seek within this, and I must say it, capitalism, which is clearly savage because it's about seizing control of the system, the very source from which all modus operandi arises. I'm stunned and don't know what to do, nor who to tell, because everyone is caught up in this situation. So, talking to them is just trying to express that they're mired in a kind of jelly, and since they deny it, they'll find any excuse to deny it. And given my persistence, they'll try to silence me.

My town, where I am, it must be admitted, is a town of silences, where dictatorships reign supreme. Personally, I find it hard not to see others as people who use civilization as a kind of camouflage, discreetly revealing their true situation—the situation they're not actually in—so that it's not obvious. It's all about carrying out a kind of colonization. Everyone is trying to colonize. I've encountered all sorts of monsters, but they're reserved for a certain cultural level, without considering that there are people, like me, who aren't interested in being confined there at all. I need to be civilized, and that's not something you simply are or act like; it's something you build through reflection on experience, which allows you to distance yourself from situations and then act through simplicity, which is precisely why it's complex. They're not opposites in any way; that's what being civilized is all about.

I'd like to express myself in a public forum, but I have a great fear of being lectured. I already tried it on a venting app, and everyone saw venting as a kind of structure one had to follow to express the situation. It's a bureaucratization, for God's sake, of feelings, of that way we conceive of them and that makes us feel expressed, relieved, for God's sake, and that's a fact that is described, again, for God's sake, not a protocol, and that's what many aspire to on the street. My boss aspired to that, and precisely because he didn't know those fundamental principles, that everything should be based on action, and not on provoking it, what led me to do was precisely to displace that force, so that it would be evident and I could denounce it. He hoped that at some point I would become careless due to stress, due to a proportional factor, when in fact that was always being recycled thanks to routines that allowed me to always be in contact with my experience. The factor he aspired to was based on fleeing from experience, something I didn't do; I saw it, I embraced it, I always had time for what I was doing, and that's precisely why trust was built in me, which isn't imposed or anything like that.

Many people don't understand this area because they initially base their modus operandi on a model of proportions, when everything stems from specific circumstances. This model of proportions, based on emotions, applies precisely to those who have remained within a group, and it is precisely this group that determines the existence of extremes, since the group is not about transcendence but about containment, and hence the phenomenon of proportion, due to a difference in normalities.

It's time we all started contributing, at the very least, hypotheses about life, in some way, sketching something out, whatever it may be. Personally, I don't know a single human being who remains stuck with it once they admit the matter is just a hypothesis. It seems to me that this tendency to remain stuck with it, and which, from what I've observed in many speeches, translates precisely into that imposition that leads to amplifying what happens to us, the facts. Many people still live in the desperate need to alter the course of events, by any means necessary, through all sorts of exploits, seeking at all costs to make everything according to their own standards; in other words, it's the very establishment of dictatorships. That's the spirit of my people, which rightly determines that it's not up to the task.

It pains me to make these criticisms, but I need to know who I stand with. I expected a population already under the protection of a constitutional apparatus from which to operate, rather than one that would be dominant behind the scenes. Understandably, my idealistic spirit is met with pity by everyone I know, since depending on it, according to them, is tantamount to accepting that someone could shatter me. Of course, they haven't hesitated to embrace this theory, which is undeniably useful and cyclical, in the sense that its application, through its versatility depending on the situation, does yield results. The constitutional apparatus of my people does not leave them defenseless in any way, but the people have not sought to influence its use according to the principles of nation-building; instead, it has served as a tool for camouflage. This is a topic I have already explored at length, so I don't want to delve further into it. I'm tired of encountering people who live nothing but exploiting appearances, seeking to solidify them in order to use them to their advantage, necessarily contributing to the impossibility of intimacy among those who make up the community. They contribute to a life lived on appearances, a permanent and highly praised theatrical performance, of course, making venturing out into the unknown for many a kind of suicide or a journey into a realm filled with monsters, like the sirens in their tragic form.

Many genuine relationships are being neglected. Survival is prioritized at all costs; in fact, that's what's encouraged: that everyone cope with what they already have, that those who can't cope are embraced, precisely keeping the individual from transcendence, submitting to it when it happens again, making justifications about frequency or things like that. Precisely preventing them from rising to the occasion. However, my question is: Who can I talk to about this in my social circle? No one. Everyone is focused on surviving the status quo, of course, because that's what they consider normal, and trying to do anything beyond that only brings them problems, thus limiting their own identity.

That's why some people are trapped in a living hell and can't escape. It had to be said, I had to say it.

It's currently 7:35 and today i have not 1 but 2 important tests. And i've spent the last 2 days frying my brain trying to study, and kinda failed miserably. For one i'm kinda ok-ish? For the other i'm honestly doomed.

So i'm gonna have to study some more in the hours before because Yesterday i couldn't go on, my brain literally mush. Worse yet? Tomorrow i have 2 more tests that i have to study for this afternoon. This period has been really hard for me cause i'm badly burnt out and really tired and my grades now are kinda bad. I feel like an idiot cause i never had this many problems in school but also i just want to get passing grades and just end this period or this year entirely. I'm so so tired.

Hope you have a nice day stranger ❤️

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.