Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Tw mentions of suicide and grooming

I feel like there are people predisposed to being good, then there are people like me who have to fight with every fiber of their being to go against who nature has clearly destined them to be.

I love my partner and people close to me, at least I should and there’s no reason not to, but god I think I hate them too, it’s recurring the wish that they would just die because it would make my life easier. Everytime they talk to me it’s a chore. Not that this reflects on them, they’re like a perfect person, but it’s just how I am seemingly naturally.

Other times im on the edge of my seat using every ounce of self control not to cut everyone off, run off into the woods and get myself killed because the thought is so tempting and I really wanna do it, or cut off all of my friends so I can get with another groomer because that’s really the only thing that will make me happy.

I know very well these are evil things to think very very evil selfish things that would ruin my relationships and the trust I’ve built with everyone I love , but that doesn’t change how they are the only things that feel rewarding to me like AT ALL. But on the outside I have to consciously remind myself of who I am supposed to be, a kind and perfect person that loves other people, as is the only person worth staying alive. So when they vent about how they deserve to die alone, instead of going with how I want to reply and watch them shatter ‘well yeah, you do deserve to die alone’- I go, ‘I’m sorry :( do you wanna talk about it? Im here for whatever you need.’ Because that is the normal reaction to have and the care I should have hardwired automatically, though it’s so drastically different to how I feel inside because it just????? Does not come naturally to me??? I have to wonder if literally everyone feels this way because it’s absolutely unfathomable to me why anyone would want to be alive if that was the case. People apologize like ‘sorry if im being a burden’. I’ll tell them ‘no way! Nothing can be a burden to me.’ And sometimes that’s true and I feel I can practically understand where anyone is coming from without judging. But on the other hand people having a bad day is a burden to me, people having human emotions is a burden to me, the fact I have to think about bad things happening to anyone but me is a burden to me because I want everything bad to happen to me. This is to the point I genuinely get jealous and frustrated when I see other people being abused (though ofc I know it’s not their fault and I try to help relieve their emotions and get them out of the abusive situation as a way to relieve my own unbearable jealousy. But evidently that’s not pure intent). In short, what im trying to say is everything is a burden to me, I’d rather either them die or I die than sit through another day in this shitty world that does not seem to change, and as of now I’ve lost hope in being fixed because well… my entire person is the problem . Though I proceed to go about my cheerful exterior and try to live kindly. Does anyone else feel like this or have a perspective on it? This is probably some form of derangement or something, having absolutely no selfless care for anybody, I’ll talk to my therapist about it on the 22nd. But jeez does it suck to live like this.

so i just wanna clarify, i'm a minor and i'm not straight. or cis for that matter. i'm a homo in a family of phobics. whatever, my family doesn't support me. and uhh kinda off topic for being gay, but my mom takes all my stuff and goes through all of it, which pisses me the fuck off because if she didn't do that back when i was like 11 i would probably be fine. she went through all of it. messages, school notes, i even found her logged into my school email account. she then confronted me with "why do you say you're a boy? only sa'd people can be queer!" and then that's around the time i got really suicidal and started sh. which is obviously not okay with someone who had just come out of elementary?? and she always says that i learned what being gay was from social media, which is totally bogus because she taught me what that was when i was six! lady wants to blame everything on anything but herself. she also says that when i was little and she used to lock me in the closet it was because i was her first child and she didn't know that was wrong. fuck that shit she was the oldest child in her family and she basically raised my uncle. she never locked him in closets for shit he didn't even do when he was 3. she also thinks my friends are bad influences. sure, some of them have their own issues and addictions and other stuff, but they stopped me from killing myself when my mom didn't even know i wanted to die. she thought i was just a weird kid with weird interests at the time. i dont think it crossed her mind that i was the one who was taking all the pencil sharpeners and stealing the blades. i mean, why else would i have a screwdriver in my room? strange how she wasn't too concerned when i wouldn't go into the pool and wore sweaters all summer. not weird at all. oh! and recently she was telling me how i was pretending to be gay and that i dressed "weird" to impress my friends, and that i wanted to be just like her. first of all, i lost a ton of 'friends' for being gay and for dressing alt. second of all, shes a forty two year old woman. im a teenage loser. i dont wanna be like her at all. i hate her. she always goes to the extreme and expects me to be a little version of her and thinks that im pretending to wanna be a boy. but i DO wanna be boy. i wish i was born a boy. i wanna look like one, sound like one, be treated like i'm a REAL boy. im sick and tired of people treating me like i'm some fragile little creature who's "just confused". it's not a fucking phase i wanna be a boy i hate being called a girl i wish i was born a boy why did i have to be born a girl. and uh yeah. so fun wanting to be a boy and having that struggle of being called a girl on top of shitty classmates and a mom who genuinely makes you wanna relapse every two days.

i want to hit my head against a wall until my brain spills out. i'd bend over, crumpling down to the floor with a newfound lightness. my hands would reach out, towards the lump of misshapen meat on the carpet, grasping at the stem. i'd pull. and pull. and pull and pull. it would unwind in my hands, onto the floor like a spool of red thread. decorated along the pink tissue would be miniscule lines. microscopic letters; descriptions of events and people and places decipherable only by the innermost part of the self -- the heart.

and so, i would dig my fingernails in deep. deep. and deeper. deeper and deeper still. and then, my fingers would grasp the weakly pulsating bloody mass. i'd pull. and pull. and pull and pull. it'd tear out of my ribcage in a satisfying manner, with a sickly sweet squelch. blood would spill out of my concave chest and stain the white carpet. my thumbnails would find purchase in the surface of the organ, peeling it open like one would an orange, splitting open at the aorta and downwards past the purkyne tissue. inside, what is inside? i peer in. i wish i hadn't. there is no answer. none. none at all. none of this matters. i tear and tear and tear into myself for nothing. i drive a blade with practiced precision into the supple flesh of my skin in an attempt to peel it away and gain even a glimpse at the person i am within, naked and bare for none to see. there is no substance. i fall. no one hears. there is nothing to hear. for i am nothing, and everything at once. i have no substance to myself, but i mimic fragments of what others do. fragments. shards. a million glass shards when glued together don't form a mirror. engraved into my subconscious. an effort to please. to be neutral. to be perceived.

and then i receive it. an answer. an answer! at last, at last. i see it. i see it all. so clear. so clear indeed. i am a grotesque, misshapen amalgamation of everything and everyone i hold dear. a summation of everything equalling to nothing of substance. nothing of value. i know what i am.

i smile as i bleed out onto the red carpet.

Recently, my best pal and I embarked on an adventure to the UK. Holding a UK passport due to my British father, I faced no issues with entry, unlike my friend who required a visa. Our travel plan included a layover in France, followed by a connecting flight to the UK.

Unfortunately, our onward journey hit a snag when the connecting flight got canceled. The next available flying option was scheduled for 2 PM the following day, resulting in an unexpected 17-hour wait. While the airline arranged complimentary hotel accommodations for stranded passengers, this privilege was not extended to my friend. Her visa restrictions meant she couldn't leave the airport and had to stay in a designated area brightly lit round the clock, accompanied by the constant din of nearby construction work. Seating was scarce, forcing her to resort to sleeping on the floor. To top it off, a mishap earlier had rendered our phone chargers useless after a water spill, and her phone battery was dwindling at 40%.

Faced with a choice, I opted to take advantage of the hotel stay, leaving my friend at the airport. This decision of mine didn't sit well with her; she accused me of abandoning her in her time of need. She expressed her fear and discomfort about staying alone in an unfamiliar and intimidating environment, and how much she had hoped for my company to ease her anxiety. Despite her protests and calling me self-centered, I justified my action by my exhaustion, having not slept for over a day. I felt staying together in discomfort was unnecessary when I had an alternative. However, this led her to question our friendship altogether.

Imagine this scenario like being on a reality show. The cameras capturing every moment of emotional upheaval and the public judging each decision. Viewers would likely be split; some might sympathize with my need for rest in the comfort of a hotel, while others might criticize me for not showing solidarity with my friend in a tough situation.

If this story was pitched in a reality setting, I wonder, would the audience have been more forgiving, or harsher in their judgment on me abandoning a friend in distress?

I wonder if people might think I did the right thing by choosing to rest in a hotel?

The whole situation feels straight out of a bizarre drama. To set the frame right: I am openly gay, having come out when I was 16. My parents were accepting, yet they insisted I keep this a secret from my older brother, who I’ll call Dean. They mentioned that Dean held some rather harsh views about homosexuals, which put me on guard. We drifted further apart when I moved for university at 18, and honestly, we hardly ever talked.

Fast forward to the present, life’s been pretty good. I landed a respectable job in our hometown and I’m sharing a lovely life with my boyfriend, Max. Our harmony was disrupted abruptly a few days ago by an unexpected call from Dean. Given our distant relationship, I feared it might be an emergency.

Dean started the call gruffly and went straight to the point – he was getting married to his fiancée, Yen, next year. This was news to me, not even knowing he was seeing someone. I kept the conversation light, congratulated him, and discussed trivial wedding details. When he mentioned that the wedding invites would be sent soon and that I could bring a plus-one, I casually mentioned I would bring Max along. This triggered Dean; he lost his temper and bombarded me with offensive slurs, making it crystal clear he didn’t want my boyfriend at his wedding. Shocked and hurt, I ended the call without uttering another word.

I informed Max about the incident, and he was incredibly supportive, distracting me with a cozy evening that helped me unwind. The next day, I texted my parents about the incident, then headed to work. I was oblivious to the chaos that was brewing back home.

By the end of my shift, my phone was inundated with messages and missed calls from puzzled relatives and my parents, demanding an explanation. I recounted the ordeal to my parents later, who shockingly suggested that I should apologize to Dean for “forcing my lifestyle at his wedding.” The absurdity! I defended my stance but ended up receiving a barrage of messages from relatives, pressuring me to make amends with Dean and my parents. Despite all this, Max reassures me that I’ve done nothing wrong, yet I can’t shake off the feeling of unease.

Now, imagine if this scene unfolded on a reality TV show. Cameras rolling as family dynamics and personal beliefs clash dramatically. The element of a divided family grappling with acceptance and the revelation of private issues in such a public format would certainly draw reactions ranging from shock to support. Viewers might be torn between choosing sides or might become emotionally invested in advocating for acceptance and equality. Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, and my story could have easily been a pivotal, teachable moment.

Am I wrong for being upset over the family reaction?

I (F22) have been dating my girlfriend (F21) for 3 years.

🧡 We met 1-2 weeks before starting college, since we were going to be classmates. She was supposed to live in the dorms for free, but after 2 days, she hated it and invited herself to sleep over at my place (we barely knew each other). We hooked up that night - and she basically never left. Classic lesbian stereotype, I know.

🌈 At first, I hid from my parents that she was living with me since they were paying my rent and didn’t know her. After 2 months, we made it official. A few months later, she met my parents (they thought we were just friends) and they adored her. She came home with me every visit. After 2 years, I told them we were together, and surprisingly, they were super supportive - even got over their strong homophobia for her. Now they treat her like their own daughter, and my whole family loves her... even more than they love me, sometimes.

💼 She’s been a super supportive partner and has helped me a lot with my business. I honestly wouldn’t be where I am without her. But she doesn’t have a job, and her abusive parents don’t support her or even know about us. She lives off a small scholarship allowance and feels guilty for not contributing more. I got her a laptop, my dad got her a phone, but she refuses to let me hire her because she wants to earn her own money. I usually cover everything, and I don’t mind since my business does very well. We recently moved to another apt, and my parents still pay the rent for both of us.

💔 The truth is, I don’t think I ever truly loved her romantically. I was probably just scared of being alone in a new city and clung to her because we were both lesbians and colleagues. I mistook her vibe for something more masculine at first, but over time I realized she’s not really my type physically. I do love her personality - she’s emotional, artistic, and sees the world beautifully. I’d often find myself staring at other people, not fantasizing, just feeling a quiet frustration inside. In the first year we were very active se)(ually, but now I am forcing myself to do it. I'm not enjoying it.

🕳️ When I moved away for college, I was excited to live independently, but that never really happened. She moved in almost immediately, and we became co-dependent: always together, doing everything side by side. Now that we just finished college, I feel like I missed out on everything -freedom, partying, self-discovery. While others were out living, I was working nonstop on my business. I am succesful, I've even been on the news, but I feel empty, like I sold my soul for money. Sometimes, I think the only escape is death. I don't want to be in this relationship anymore, but I’m scared to leave. My parents love her and they’d never forgive me. They would never accept another girl, because SHE is the reason they stopped being homophobic.

🏠 I’ve been saving for a house abroad and told her it’s for both of us, but she hasn’t contributed financially because she doesn’t have a job. I’m not upset - most people our age aren’t making this much, but she constantly compares herself to me and feels like a failure. She has breakdowns because she can’t provide, even though most students don’t have it figured out yet. I tried encouraging her to freelance; she got one client and gave up. I have tons of business and investment ideas, but she won’t act on them. I can’t keep pushing her. I’m already exhausted from running my business and dealing with my own mental health issues.

🌍 I’ve always valued freedom, and marriage feels like a cage. I like being alone and dream of traveling the world. I could afford to do it now, but I can’t because she can’t afford it and feels guilty when I pay. I know she’ll get a job eventually and things might balance out, but for now, I’m sad my youth is slipping away. My past relationships were traumatic - one landed me in the hospital, another was a drug addict, one dug up her dead dog’s skull, and another cheated on me while I paid for everything because she was nearly homeless. This time, I chose someone kind and stable, not really my type, but safe. She’s never hurt me, but I’m still unhappy. And even though I know she’s not using me, I’m tired of always being the provider.

📱💬 I know you’ll judge me, and I don’t blame you. Last year, feeling lonely and needing a new friend, I started chatting with a masc lesbian on Bumble BFF. She had a girlfriend, so I saw her as a safe friend. She was adventurous, always traveling and doing extreme sports - basically the life I wanted. She wasn’t the issue... it was what she awakened in me. She was the version of myself I never got to be. We talked nonstop for months, and my girlfriend noticed. I felt happy texting the other girl - not se)(ually, just less lonely. My girlfriend got jealous, and I understood why, but I couldn’t stop. The girl broke up with her partner of 4 years and started dating around. I was interested in her stories because I was frustrated about my own relationship. She invited me to hang out, but my girlfriend asked me to cut contact, saying the other girl was flirting. I didn't tell my gf that that girl broke up with her partner, because I wanted to keep things safe. She eventually removed me from her following list and she unfollowed me, because I stopped replying to her texts, since my gf was mad.

💀 I want to be honest. I hoped we’d become best friends and maybe more. Some of our chats felt like flirting. She complimented me a lot, and we talked nonstop. After we started talking, I had a breakdown and told my girlfriend I didn’t love her and wanted to break up. She was devastated and she thought I was falling for that girl. I couldn’t break up for real because I worried about my parents and that my girlfriend would have nowhere to live. I told another time I wanted to break up, and she begged on her knees for me to stay. We’re stuck together for at least two more years because we’re doing our masters in the same city. I feel trapped and often think about su!cide as the only way out. The pressure from my parents, business, and her situation feels overwhelming.

💔 It’s been 1 year since I stopped talking to that girl, but I’m still frustrated my gf wouldn’t let me meet her. I think I developed an unhealthy obsession, hoping to run into her or reconnect. Now I see it was emotional cheating and wrong. I never even met her in person, so it was just lust stuck in my mind. Since then, my girlfriend lost trust in me and started trying to be more masculine, feeling like she was competing and getting easily triggered.

🚫 I’m stuck. Leaving my girlfriend now would ruin my relationship with my family, and she’d have nowhere to go. But staying makes me more depressed every day. I’m on medication and feel like my youth is slipping away. I regret not exploring more before her. I only slept with 2 women before. When I tried to break up, she begged me to stay and offered that I could sleep around while she waited but I refused because that wouldn’t be fair to her.

🪞I’m still dating her but feel guilty for leading her on. I’ve lost myself in this relationship and put on 10 kg. I hate the way I look. I wanted someone who would push me, but she’s my mirror. We even say the same things and act alike. We often leave the house messy because we’re both struggling mentally and isolated from friends. She had therapy for a while but stopped due to cost. Her therapist once told her that they knew the girl I talked to. It used to be one of their old patients but she was problematic. The fact that the therapist told my gf the confidential info about that other girl made me distrust therapy even more. Although I know people will say I need it.

Please tell me what you think about this situation. You can be harsh, because I know that what I did was not moral at all. I haven’t told any of my friends this, because I am afraid. All of our friends are common and they would think I am a s!lut. I have been keeping this inside for over one year. Thank you!

Growing up, I always sensed a strange tension in my family, but I never quite understood it until I pieced together old memories and stories told by relatives. My mother, who had always dreamed of having a household bustling with daughters, was disheartened at my birth purely because of my gender. I am a 16-year-old male, the unintentional foil to her fantasies. It was evident from day one; she wept in the hospital when she learned I was a boy, even momentarily resisted holding me. All of this was inadvertently recorded and it's painful to watch. During those first crucial days, it was my paternal grandmother who stepped up to nurture me, featured in most of my early baby pictures cradling me in her arms.

My grandmother essentially raised me until she tragically passed away from a brain bleed when I was eight. After that, I was left in the care of a mother who had finally received her wish—a daughter, my younger sister Lily, born two years after me. The difference in treatment between us was like night and day. Lily became the center of my mother's world: the bigger room, elaborate birthday celebrations, and a mountain of Christmas presents exclusively for her—sometimes as many as 25 gifts sourced from my mom alone, while I would receive a solitary, often lackluster, present.

Interaction between my mom and myself dwindled to the bare minimum and often flared into arguments fueled by years of pent-up frustration and neglect. My father, who played the traditional role of the aloof provider, rarely intervened or even noticed the palpable disparity in affection and attention.

During a recent family gathering at my maternal grandparents' home, Mom couldn't stop lauding Lily for a school project and bragging about the new scooter she bought her, along with a custom helmet and a personalized lock. Unable to hold it in any longer, I let my feelings be heard. I openly criticized her for her blatant favoritism, which only led to a scolding from my grandparents. They described my issues with my mom as "little troubles" stemming from her initial gender disappointment and labeled my outburst as a lack of compassion.

Imagine if my situation was played out on a reality show. Cameras capturing my mother's enthusiastic pampering of Lily contrasted sharply with her mechanical interactions with me. Would the audience empathize with my feelings of exclusion and neglect, or would they criticize me for antagonizing a clearly biased mother? How dramatic and telling those episodes would be, highlighting the raw emotions and complex dynamics of our family life.

Would viewers at home understand the strain of being less favored merely because of gender, or would they side with my mother, assuming I should simply get over it and show more understanding?

I have national exam in about few days and I'm so scared. I really don't know anything and I just keep getting distracted. I'm stressing and hyperventilating but I still can't study and foolishly wasting my time in phone. It feels like the world is gonna end for me. I really wanna give. I don't wanna do this anymore. I'm scared about my parents. I'm so scared that I'd rather give up than face them. I hate it, I hate it so much. I'm so dumb, stupid and idiot.

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

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

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

so... am I selfish here?

My parents began their journey as foster care providers when I was just 6 years old, with my younger brother being only 3. It was a normal part of my life; many of the kids who stayed with us got along well with me and my family. That is until we met a girl named Amber when I was in the second grade.

Amber was the new kid in my class, and for some reason, we rubbed each other the wrong way from the start. I heard from classmates that she was upset with me, despite us knowing each other for only a few days. I figured if she could be mad at me for no reason, then I had every right to be mad at her. As time went on, our relationship only worsened. By the third grade, she was bullying me—heaving my lunch to the ground, fabricating stories that I had gas issues to embarrass me, and even declaring to our teacher that she refused to sit next to "freaky eye," in reference to a scar I have near my left eye. This only fueled further taunts, comparing me to Scar from The Lion King, making me increasingly self-conscious about the scar.

Aware of these issues, my parents were often called into school meetings to address her bullying behavior. In one surprising twist, I discovered that Amber was a foster child. And then, when we were both 10, my parents made the decision to adopt her. Friends and family asked if I was okay with this decision. My parents told them I was on board and eager to assist Amber in settling in. This was far from the truth. I was devastated and opposed the idea vehemently, but my objections fell on deaf ears.

My brother was not fond of Amber either, particularly because she had manipulated him against me a number of times at school. My parents, however, saw my resistance as the reason Amber and my brother weren't close, placing the blame squarely on me. The situation escalated when I was 15, culminating in a fierce argument where I expressed my refusal to ever see Amber as a true sibling, no matter the legal ties. I accused my parents of choosing her needs over my well-being and expressed regret that anyone ever cared for her, given her continuous torment toward me. Following yet another conflict a year after, I moved in with my grandparents. My attempts to maintain a relationship with my parents dwindled, and I openly criticized them for falsely claiming that I supported the adoption of Amber. This led to others viewing them differently, which they confronted me about recently. Their visit resulted in a heated exchange about the past, with them labeling my views as selfish, and me remaining firm that they had indeed chosen Amber over me.

Imagine if this family debacle unfolded on a reality TV show, where every argument and harsh word was broadcasted for entertainment. Would viewers be sympathetic to my plight, or would they side with my parents in their decision to adopt Amber despite our rocky past? Such a setting might amplify the drama and the complex emotions involved.

ok this might not be the best place for me to ask but Reddit is too scary 🥹 so I’m lwk thinking of making a series (well a fan series DONT MAKE FUN OF ME LET ME ASPIRE) like yk it has episodes a, character arcs. But I want to be good but I barely see advice on writing tv shows just novels and for screenwriting it’s mostly movies and writing a movie is very different from a tv shows. Here are some stuff I’m questioning, what makes an episode good? I heard stuff like good execution can make up for a bad concept. So how do u ‘execute’ something excellently?? And for the characters which ive seem a lot of vids on YouTube for. But does it change in tv??? And for plot and character arcs too. I have some stuff in mind. Sooo any help?? Or someone can post on Reddit for me ✌️

i have many issues with myself, im jobless and burnout too easily, i betrayed my family and im not getting them back, i dont deserve one anymore, im mentally low capacity, i do fuck up the smallest things, theres no sign of change or progress, idk what to do but shit is wrong with me and it needs fixing, fast, if it can be fixed at all, or else im a lost cause

I feel sad today. I miss my ex and everyone, also sad about not being able to play my genshin on a decent device! and remembered, oh I'm on the last day of my period. Don't mess with me hormones lmao

What do you think!

I don't know if this is the right place to talk about something like this but I need to get it off my chest and I don't want to emotioanlly burden my other friends by talking about this - as I've already talked to them about this and I don't know what to do about it.

Since December I've noticed one of my group of friends getting into really bad habits; more specifically with alcohol and marajuana (even more specifically, weed pens/vapes). I'm fully aware that I'm not one to throw too many stones in a glass house (not sure if I'm using that correctly) as I've tackled the same sort of problems they're experiencing, but have reached a place where I am able to do it recreationally and have a healthy relationship with it.

Where I'm from, THC and HHC have been banned, so now smoke shops are selling weed pens with really strange chemicals - I think the one my friends buy are called HHZ or HHX?? And alcohol is, of course, very easily available in most shops. Because of this accessability, my friends are buying weed vapes tri-weekly and drinking on weekdays alone. They seem to have no problem with this.

It also seems to me now, that every time I hang out with this group of friends we always end up drinking and it is exhausting. My house is also used as our main 'drinking spot,' which is putting a strain on me and my father, whomst I live with and does not appreciate the company when he has work the next day. Last week really broke me. We have a groupchat and one of them asked if 2 of them could come over to my house after they had watched a movie in the cinema to drink at 11pm. Are you fucking kidding me? I wasn't even invited to the fucking cinema and now you want to come over to my house just to drink? Am I a fucking dive bar??? Fuck you!

I never really had a problem with the weed pens either until the new HHX/Z shit came about. I myself used to smoke weed pens when they were still HHC/THC, but stopped because I was noticing that I wasn't right mentally and figured I should stop for my wellbeing. I'm worried that this is going to hurt them in the long run, especially since one of them that smokes them is in a difficult major in college and I'm worried about their performance.

Also, this seems relevant enough to throw in here, their humour and perspective on things has 'devolved' for lack of a better word. The way they talk about certain things just seems so childish and I normally wouldn't mind but sometimes it really bugs me, I don't know. And I can never talk about things that I'm interested in, and I fear that I'd get laughed at if I suggested something like "Hey, let's go to an art gallery/exhibition" or "Let's go to a jazz bar" even though that's a completely normal thing to do once in a while that doesn't involve liver damage or whatever. I know this because whenever I try to plan something new for us to try, a recent example being us going to a variety of new upcoming artists in the city, the plans always seem to conventiently fall through. But it's ok! Because there always conventiently time to go to the same fucking bar we always go to instead that have cheap drinks that get you drunk quick because why bother with something new and exciting when you can just get shitfaced!?

I feel guilty for facilitating this, but I don't know what to do. I've always had a hard time saying no but despite that I try my best to set boundaries, telling them 'no' straight-up when they ask to come over just to drink. I fear that if I voice my opinion, it will come off as a sort of 'mightier-than-thou,' since I've made it known that I've cut back on my marajuana and alcohol use over the past year after a particularly nasty bout of substance abuse following a break-up. I've talked to other people about this, but they've never given me any advice to remedy the situation - and I feel bad if I go to them for the hundredth (hyperbole) time with the same issue. I don't know. It's nice to scream into the void here instead of bothering anyone, but maybe that's just me.