Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I'm taking care of a 4-month-old puppy for a week, and I want to know some advice for it.

Thanks.

I'm almost 18 and I lost my dad during January, 2024. He apparently died overnight due to a complication of diabetes. I don't remember what day it was, I just know it was the day we all went back to school after winter break. Our relationship was never good. I was his only daughter and he was raised with unhealthy viewpoints on women and their roles in society. Not a great combo. I was ridiculed by him often for my shortcomings, or just for nothing at all to be honest. Everyday was a constant battle with him and the other members of our family living in the house. I mostly took care of everything leading up to his death. My mother was a recovering drug addict, so she did not have custody of me or my brother. The only mother figure I had was my grandmother, who would endorse my father's negative behavior and scratch it off to him being stressed or unhealthy, which was true but not justifiable. Custody was given to my aunt.

My aunt and I were close, and I always dreamed of living with her. But now that I am, I'm indescribably lonely and I don't know how to deal with this. It's like I'm stuck in some weird out of pocket void that no one knows or acknowledges, because they're too busy revolving within their own lives. That sounded cringey but you get the point. My friends have moved on and I'm witnessing my aunt interact with her own biological children and it just makes me so...angry. I know thats wrong but I honestly just feel so frustrated. I wanted this love. This love that can only come from a mother or father. But I was cheated out of it by both parents. My aunt claims she loves me as one of her own kids but I know thats not true. I should just be grateful that she loves me, shouldn't I? Why isn't that enough for me? Why do I want to go and be jealous of everyone around me and make myself miserable in the process? But that parental love I want just can't be mimicked or replicated. There will always be differences between the love for ones own children and a relative. And I can't explain the pain that eats at my chest whenever I witness these imbalances. It's suffocating but its no ones fault. I think thats the worst part for me, that there's no one I can blame for this.

That's why I came on here for the first time. I need advice or just someone who can relate to me. How do you deal with this loneliness? How do you deal with the absence of a true parental love? Will this feeling ever go away?

I appreciate anyone who sees and reads this post, especially those who take the time to offer me some insight. May you all have a good day/night.

hello , i want my identity to be anonymous and don't want to tell more about myself i am a 20year old female and i am a student. recently i asked a question to my boyfriend what is it if you ask i asked hi m about thier parents approval in this relationship where he is a muslim and i am a christian it was a very happy and healthy relationship of 1 year we were about to celebrate our 1 year aniversary and i asked this question at 18th of january 2025 i asked him what if your parents does not accept our relationship what would you do and he told that he wants both of us and i told him what if there is a situation arrives where you need to choose between me and your family what would you do ?? as a curious girlfriend i asked him this question and what he said stunned me within an hour or so he came to a conclusion that we should end it here and lets not go long way and get hurt and tells that he is doing this for me and told that he is doing this for me and he does not want to hurt you and keeps silent these all happened in call when i went to talk in real with him he ran away currently im in holidays and im in excruciating pain i dont know what to do but i think if we talk in real there might be a chance that he will realize what he is doing now should i do it ???

Hi my name is Zariah but I’d rather be called Luna..please I might be too young for this app at 11 years old but please don’t block me I have no one else to vent tok being to scared…I have loving parents and a loving grandmother who I live with..I have many friends and a trans partner but sadly they want to do suicide because of their abusive mother who tried to make them overdose…I know it’s selfish wanting to die when I have everything I need in life..but I just don’t want to live..I’m insecure about my skin..my personality…my selfishness…my body..I’m so hypersexual…I hate it..I hate everything about me..I want to die but I don’t…I just want a different life…I get judged a lot..I act crazy…I threaten people when I’m mad even tho I never mean it…I have almost 10 siblings 4 on my mothers side and 7 on my dads side I don’t want to leave my family but I don’t want to be with them neither…I want attention but I don’t want to be looked at…I want to be around people but I want to be alone…I feel pretty but I feel ugly…I feel touched and disgusting…I hate my body…I hate everything and everyone…but I still let everyone step on top of me just to satisfy them…I hate being beat up..but I love the pain…I did self harm too myself thinking it would help my grandmother understand how I feel..but she just made it worst by telling my dad and beating me up…calling me stupid and even trying to put me in a mental hospital…and honestly I want to be in a mental hospital…I want to be around people like me…crazy, insecure, weird, and stupid I want to jump but I’m too scared…I want to run away but where will I go? I feel like everyone hates me even tho they give me everything…I’m scared god is real so when I actually end up killing myself I got to hell…I want to cry but for some reason nothing will come out…I hate myself…but I love everyone else..?

I’ve noticed that people these days, including myself, are glued to their phones. Most of the time, I use my phone unnecessarily—scrolling or watching things even when there’s nothing important to text about or nothing meaningful I want to learn. I understand that people have FOMO and don’t want to feel cut off from society, but for that, I don’t think it’s necessary to stay updated on every single trend on Instagram or social media in general. Knowing all the latest trends doesn’t really improve the quality of my life.

Yes, some people might make fun of me for not being aware of “obvious” trends, but I don’t see the need to follow them. At the same time, I don’t want to completely isolate myself either. For that reason, I’ve decided to limit myself to using Instagram for just 15 minutes a day, or using Pinterest occasionally for inspiration.

The internet feels overwhelming at times—it’s endless. There’s always new content to consume, and you can never really “finish” it. In contrast, I only truly felt alive during the days when phones existed without internet. Back then, the phone itself was an incredible gadget: it had a camera, photos, videos, offline games, songs, and maybe a few downloaded YouTube videos. Once I finished watching those videos, I had to rewatch the same ones, and eventually the phone felt boring. I would play the same simple offline games until I got tired of them.

Even the old Nokia phones were better in some ways. They were extremely simple—sometimes boring—but memorable. I remember playing Snake on them. At the time it felt boring, but when I look back now, those days feel good. When I was outside waiting for someone, I didn’t feel the urge to look at my phone because it didn’t have much to offer. Instead, I started noticing my environment, and those moments stayed in my memory.

On the other hand, if you showed me a reel I watched just a month ago, I probably wouldn’t even recognize it. It would feel like something completely new. That’s the difference: the older experiences stuck, while today’s constant scrolling doesn’t.

What I really want is to go back to that earlier feeling—the simplicity, the boredom, the presence—that made life feel more real.

Apologies if the category doesn’t fit. I couldn’t find a better one.

I just want to be liked. I don’t know if it’s just me being too in my head, but it feels like people only talk to me because I’m useful, entertaining, or they’re literally paid to do it.

I can’t have a conversation with my girlfriend without her venting her frustrations to me. I understand that she needs catharsis, and I want to be there for her, but I’m tired of doing it every conversation. I also can’t bring it up, though, because what if I’m just an asshole for thinking this?

And with my friends, I can’t talk about anything beyond surface level jokes. I don’t know if that’s just how friendships are, but I feel like it’s not actual friendship.

Beyond that, everyone in my life is literally paid to talk to me. I won’t go into detail for anonymity, but my family is out of the picture.

I just want to be seen. Genuinely. With no string attached. Which is probably why I’m here, lol. Thanks for reading.

Hey... this is gonna be tough to say.

TW // talk about rape

so... my partner, K, has been raped a few times in her life. I understand it to a degree, having been sa'd multiple times and raped once myself, but I can't seem to silence my thoughts. Whenever I am alone thinking, I for some reason start to think about the fact that she was raped, and I get urges to ask for descriptive details about them, things like who it was, what their relation was to her, where it happened, how it happened, what they did, basically things that should never be asked. I am not necessarily afraid that I am going to slip up and end up asking them, but I'm worried where they come from, because it feels almost like i want to know the details so i can imagine myself in that situation. Almost like I want to have lived her life and experienced all the good and bad she's been through and its kind of eating me up. I can't seem to understand why i want to be her so badly.

i can hardly believe that I’m sitting here at 30 years old, feeling like the biggest loser on the planet. for years, I was under the impression that pouring my heart and soul into my career would eventually lead to some degree of success and fulfillment; yet, yesterday I received the delightful news that I was laid off from a job I devoted a decade to. there I was, the quintessential “successful career woman,” or at least I thought I was — no husband, no kids, nothing but a fancy job title that seems to have vanished into thin air. 👍🏽 it’s almost laughable how I’ve spent my entire adult life chasing this elusive idea of success while neglecting the more important realities of life.

what now? I sit here sipping my cold coffee, staring out the window, contemplating if I’m supposed to stick to my meticulously planned life goals. the irony is not lost on me; I envisioned a prestigious title and a plush desk, perhaps even a partner by my side, but instead I have a cat who looks equally disillusioned when I try to explain my unemployment, as if it understands my shattered dreams. my colleagues are posting job updates and accomplishments on LinkedIn, while I scroll through my feed, salty as hell, feeling like I’m living some bad joke. am I destined to be that one woman everyone remembers fondly but wonders why she never settled down? 😔

it’s truly incredible how quickly everything unravels, isn’t it? even amidst this chaos, I find myself reflecting on recent conversations with friends who often remind me that life is not merely about titles and accolades; it’s about experiences and connections. sure, it’s easier said than done when your mind is a swirling mess of doubt, but I think back to my last vacation, chilling on the beach with friends, laughing at ridiculous comparisons of our lives. I have traveled the world, but each journey was mostly solo, a grim reminder that I have yet to share these moments with someone special. still, my heart tells me there’s a silver lining; perhaps this is the universe’s way of saying, “Girl, it’s time to reinvent yourself!”; when was the last time I took a real risk, anyway?

in short, I’m determined not to let this layoff define me or my future. I’ve got a list of ideas for side hustles and things I’ve always wanted to try but shoved aside for the glorified 9-to-5 lifestyle. I’ve been meaning to explore photography again, or even consider going back to school for something totally out of the box. the possibilities are endless, or at least they seem more appealing than wallowing in self-pity. so here’s my question for you, fellow venters: how do you bounce back when life hits you hard? is there really a light at the end of this tunnel, or am I just deluding myself with false hopes? I’d love to know; it’s just me and my cat, and she isn’t much for advice. 🐱

It all started with a simple text message. You know the kind – a little too casual, maybe a hint of hesitance. Andrew and I had been together for over two years, and though I had felt it was a solid relationship, that day felt different. As I read the words “We need to talk,” a wave of dread washed over me. Have you ever felt that sinking feeling in your stomach, where your mind spirals down a rabbit hole of questions? That's where I was. The ensuing conversation was difficult; he told me he needed space to figure things out, but what I heard was that he didn’t want to be with me anymore. The breakup hit me like a freight train, leaving me stunned and shocked. I remember sitting on my bed, staring at the wall while tears streamed down my face, wondering if I could ever get over this.

Friends said it would get better; they all said it. But the truth is, the days that followed felt like I was trapped in a slow-motion movie. I scrolled through every happy photo we had together, replaying every memory in my mind. How could he say he *needed* space? Didn’t he know that my heart was breaking with every word? I became a master at avoiding his social media, though my curiosity clawed at me, demanding to know what he was up to. Have you ever been in that position? When every fiber of your being tells you not to look, but you can’t fight the urge? I stumbled through days that turned into weeks, each one feeling heavier than the last, as the hole in my chest grew bigger with each passing moment.

As the initial shock faded, I began to realize that wallowing in sadness was not getting me anywhere. I reached a point where I started to question what I was truly feeling. Was I heartbroken or just bored with my life? I had spent so much time focused on our relationship that I had lost sight of who I was. So, I decided to make a drastic change: I would go out and *live*. I threw myself into new activities. I took up painting, something I had always been passionate about. I started running, discovering a newfound love for the wind in my hair and the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement. Each mile started to cleanse my mind, allowing me to find clarity. Does anyone reading this relate? When you start finding joy in yourself versus relying on someone else for happiness? It truly felt like I was shedding layers that Andrew’s presence had encapsulated me in.

Weeks turned into months, and surprisingly, I began to feel like I was moving on. I sought out the support of friends who reminded me of the strength I had within me. I surrounded myself with laughter, which eventually drowned out the echo of his voice saying goodbye. But there were still tough days. Moments when I would see a couple holding hands and feel a flash of anger or sadness. I slowly learned to embrace those feelings without letting them crush me. Instead, I’d take a deep breath, let the emotions flow through me, and remind myself that it was okay to grieve, but it was also important to celebrate the small victories. Isn’t it funny how sometimes pain can lead to growth? I've come to understand that sometimes, endings are merely beginnings​ of something even better. That is what I held on to as I took each step forward, no longer just existing but *living*.

Each new encounter, each laugh shared with friends solidified the notion I was learning — love can be beautiful, but the most vital kind of love is the one for yourself. I had become my own best friend and found solace in solitude rather than sadness. I discovered what it was like to smile authentically, unrestrained by the fear of loneliness. Have you ever taken that leap, embraced the unknown, and found a hidden strength? If you’re in a similar place, struggling to get over a breakup, I can't impress upon you enough how worth it is to explore who you are outside of a relationship. It may feel impossible now, but trust me when I say, there’s a whole world out there waiting to be explored. Sometimes, you just have to let go of what’s weighing you down to make room for the beautiful things that life has to offer!

Apologies for the dramatic title. I feel this doesn't even sound too big for all this and I think a lot of people here might think the same. I talked to my friends, family, and even AI in hopes it would feel lighter on my chest, but I don't see any improvement. I've sent this on reddit, and I'll send it here

I'm currently in the summer course of my second year. I spent these 2 years relatively shut off, only friending select people and keeping a respectable distance from everyone else. My main fear was getting attached to someone and letting it affect me and my studies. I kept telling myself that my objective was finishing my degree and getting out of here. And for a while, it worked, until we had our science expo.

The girl in question was someone I shared a class with in our first year. We interacted barely, and I didn't think of her at all previously. Not because she was bad, but I felt we were both on completely different wavelengths, you know? In the spring of the second year, we shared a class again. I don't know what happened, but this time, it felt different. But I tried to ignore it. I told myself this was an infatuation that'll pass. At the end of the semester, we both had a project to show off at the science expo. I was going around the booths to genuinely support the people participating, like I'd want someone to do for my project. And then I came to her.

She was lit up. So energetic. It was the first time I saw her that way. She showed me all about her project, and I even asked her some questions as engagement. We even joked around when the experiment had a mishap. Then, unprompted, she asked me about my booth. I showed her where mine was since it was relatively far, and she told me, apparently, that she was looking for me, and thought I was at a certain place which had most of my friend group in there, and said she'd visit. She came with her friend, both waited in line while one of the professors was seeing my booth. It took a while, and I noticed she had to come back to her booth for visitors. After we were both done, I noticed she was constantly glancing at my booth and back to her phone. I felt awkward, so I did this weird gesture of invitation with my hand, signaling that it's all ready for her. In retrospect, I felt this gesture could've made things awkward. But it wasn't, which caught me off guard. She laughed, rocking her head back and forth and doing the thing where she covers her mouth while laughing. Then she instantly came, telling me to "show her all I got" and that she'll "rate me honestly". We talked a lot at that time.

Now, due to how long this is, I've thought it's best to describe this one in detail since I feel this was a pivot moment. And after the expo? We talked. A lot. We helped each other during finals week, laughed, and joked. I got to meet her mom accidentally, which was another story in itself. Before I knew it, I was talking with her late at night. But now, since we finished spring and she's not taking summer, I feel both of us drifting apart. At first, I was strictly talking to her like anyone else, not putting her in any kind of place. But then I noticed myself thinking about her, waiting for her reply, looking forward to talking with her again. And now that we barely talk, I honestly feel like shit. And for some reason, I feel ashamed of the way I feel toward her. And what I feared the most is starting to happen. So far, my studies haven't been affected, but I feel sad. And it's not her fault. I keep telling myself, "She's not why you're here," "People come and go," and "You care about her way more than you should," but none of them help. I tried to do hobbies, and they all felt duller. I talked to my family, my friends, and GPTs, and they all say I'm brave and all, and there's no shame in feeling this way. And don't get me wrong; they're right. But no matter how much I'm told, no matter how much I know, no matter how much I say, I still feel like shit.

There's a lot of stuff I haven't said to not make this longer than it already is. Sorry again for the length of what seems to boil down to "a kid that fell in love with his classmate," but I figured there's not much else to try anymore. Thank you for reading

Some years ago I got into a long-distance (me 14, him 16) and obviously it was a relationship that turned out to be really unhealthy. He was rude to me and others, made disgusting comments, dragged me into a weird situation with one of his friends, used me for things I was too young to understand, denied to make calls and hid me completely from his life. I tried to contact him a month after we broke up, and he told me he'd "see if we could continue together." He ignored my messages and was a bit rude, so I decided to tell him that "if he didn't think we could stay together he should just tell me"; next day he told me everything was my fault.

Four months after we ended, he got a new girlfriend and suddenly she was everywhere. Meanwhile, I ended up struggling with psychosis and even now dealing with loss of sensation on one side of my body.

Now I'm around my 20's, I live alone abroad, I have a stable job, I've managed to keep my health in order and I've found a stable partner. A few weeks ago, as a joke, we looked up my ex’s account. He’s still with the girl he once told me was just his “best friend,” they live together and are planning to get married. In her videos he looks like the perfect partner and I bet he changed; but there's one that was posted months after the breakup, they meet in person and she referred to him as a healthy person.

A few days later I ended up in the hospital after a crisis at work, and they told me I showed symptoms of a possible stroke.

I’m starting therapy again soon because I don't want to lose the battle so young, but holding all of this in until then feels impossible. Any opinion would be accepted and really loved by my heart!

It's incredible. I don't want to be surrounded by these ineffective people anymore—could it be that my other two posts were published? The notifications aren't showing up. Why are they wasting so much of my time? I'm getting to the point of exposing my privacy in all its splendor. In fact, I'm tired of writing about it, acting in silence. I want to express myself no matter what, say what I feel, without any filter. I now understand how someone I knew, an older woman, felt.

Why can't I be calm? Why is it that everyone interrupts my routine? Why do I have to silently stop them so they'll leave me alone? Why can't I say things upfront? Why the hell do I have to keep everything to myself? Besides, I always have to go around giving hypocritical hugs, lying affection, all to look good and avoid problems. My life can't continue like this. I want everything to change once and for all. I want to throw everything away because I can't stand it.

I can't stand my job. They've only made things worse for me. I can't stand my parents; they've only served to stress me out. I hate my aunt, everything I have to change for her. I want to leave these people, go far away, never to return. The pressure I'm under here is too much. I have to do it.

I have to start surrounding myself with projects that contribute, with people who contribute, with people who aren't just for a short while but who truly want to stay in my life, in a context, to provide support—it doesn't help, they're different things—and we all help each other grow. I no longer want to be surrounded by individuals who are out of place with me, and those who are most in place are abusive. This is over.

After the so-called treatment, all I saw were many disasters with my family. Nothing turned out well because of them. It can't be that they're all so useless! It makes me want to never see them again! I don't understand how a family can achieve that! I want everyone to go away, for all the misfits to go away. I want people who are in tune with me. It can't be that the psychiatrist isn't one of those people. To this day, I can't believe it.

I can't believe she feels that my therapy space is a useless, good-for-nothing place, that contributes nothing, that actually wastes my time. It can't be, although I also recognize that I'm under the fierce influence of my relatives, who didn't even know how to support me. How can an aunt tell me that my mother can't make me react intensely?! Has such a thing ever been heard?! That woman seems like she's never had a mother in her life, for God's sake! No wonder everyone thinks she's so mad!

I hope I don't find a hell like this with the girl I like. I don't have a way to call it, and I don't think I'm being rude. I don't want to find someone who has problems, really, who has difficulties with their family. I want someone who's outgrown that, so we can be together and free from the past. That would be good for me. I want a break from problematic people, for the love of God. I also feel annoyed because a man is going to take a book from a library I always use, and I won't have it available. That bothers me, and he knows it, and I'm uncertain; on top of that, I don't know if the boys will be able to find the copy in that library.

I feel very annoyed. I think the last thing I said between the lines got me all that. I think so, I couldn't stand it anymore. And I think that's good, reaching points where one can't tolerate lower thresholds, that are low thresholds, not excessive, and that allow for contextualized action, which I feel is what this text allows. I needed to say these things.

Struggling with a difficult phase, I'm sitting down to share something that's been troubling me lately. Over the past several months, I've found myself grappling with an increasingly negative outlook towards my romantic life, particularly around my challenges in finding a girlfriend. Initially, I chalked up my lack of success to bad luck or just being in a slump. But as time passed, the rejections piled up, and I had to fight harder against some toxic thoughts creeping into my mind.

The tipping point for me was when someone I had grown close to over about nine months rejected my romantic advances just because of my hair color. Her exact words were something akin to, "You're a great friend, but I'm just not attracted to your hair." This rejection based on something so superficial was a new kind of pain, especially since she and I shared a deep connection otherwise.

Seeing other men, who didn’t treat women well, face no repercussions in social settings like clubs further messed with my head. This observation seemed to validate the unjust world view I was trying to resist, which some call the 'chad' mindset - where seemingly unkind or arrogant men appear to succeed effortlessly with women.

This struggle came to a head recently when a friend’s girlfriend organized a group trip that included me and one of her single friends. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to meet someone new in a less pressured setting. However, inconsistencies in her availability – being free one day and not the next – left me feeling frustrated and jilted yet again.

I am actively trying to better myself – hitting the gym, focusing on advancing my career, and reconnecting with sports to regain my old form. Despite these efforts, my confidence is shaky, and the fear of spiraling into an 'incel' mindset – where one blames women for their romantic failures – haunts me.

Imagining myself in a reality show discussing these issues, I wonder how it would be perceived. Would the audience empathize with my struggle, or would they judge me for these creeping negative thoughts? It’s a risky exposure that could either garner support or backlash, reflecting the polarized views of society on such matters.

If anyone out there has overcome similar hurdles or can offer perspective, your guidance would be invaluable right now.

Growing up, my biological family often left much to be desired, leading my sister and I to form a deep bond with our friend, Hannah, and her welcoming family. Over time, they came to be more like parents to us, offering emotional support and even assisting us through college—something I am eternally grateful for. However, a rift began to form earlier this year following a tragic event.

Hannah's father passed away, a man who was much a father to us as well. His passing brought immense sorrow, intensified by the importance his family placed on funeral attendances. In their eyes, missing the funeral was akin to a profound disrespect to both the deceased and the family. Unfortunately, my sister harbors a deep-seated phobia of death and funerals, leading her to decide against attending. Despite my attempts to persuade her, she remained resolute, and the day came and went without her presence.

This decision did not sit well with Hannah's family, especially her mother, who felt personally betrayed. She accused my sister of ingratitude, saying that by not showing up, she had dishonored a man who had done so much for her. Consequently, the family's warmth towards my sister cooled significantly, culminating in her being ostracized. They have since not invited her to their home, and even removed her when she attempted to visit.

Each July, the family hosts a large reunion, which my sister and I have consistently attended in the past. However, this year, only I received an invite. Upon learning this, my sister implored me to skip the gathering in solidarity with her. I found myself torn but ultimately decided to attend, which led to a heated exchange between us. She accused me of being insensitive, while I argued that it was predictable the family would react negatively to her absence at the funeral.

Adding to this, imagine if our situation were part of a reality TV show. Such formats thrive on conflict and emotional drama, and our story provides plenty of both. The cameras would likely zoom in on the family dynamics, perhaps portraying me in a complex light—supportive yet divided between my sister and my adopted family. Viewers would be invited to analyze and debate my decision to attend the reunion, potentially polarizing opinions and sparking widespread discussion regarding loyalty and familial obligations.

How would viewers react if I attended the family reunion on TV?

My wife constantly lets her depression rule over her more often than not. And I know that she has zero control over any of that, but that's not what bothers me. What does is when she spirals, suddenly everything I've done for her, all the good and happy memories we've shared, the adventures we've gone on, doesn't mean anything and she'll say things such as "My whole year has been wasted and fucking pointless" and it just makes me feel so fucking small... Like no matter what I do, it's not enough to make her see the light in the dark even when the dark isn't that dark....