Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I feel like I don't want people's pity or their complaints anymore—I don't know if a previous post of mine is online—I don't want her. I don't want any more rescues. This is what my mother was getting at. That woman only lived to point out what was wrong with me, going to extremes for God's sake, and supported by others. All her life, that woman has lived to pressure and thus intervene with me. What's the point of having someone as a slave? That's why she had her mother and me. Until when? It bothers me because I feel like I can't say bad things here, otherwise, I feel like I'd be breaking the rules.

I hate my mother. I never want to see her again. Since my treatment, she's turned out to be the person I hate the most, even more than my aunt. Manipulative, cynical, and also someone who deceives people by using people who don't share what she claims. That's what deception is all about. My mother is a criminal, a person who simply thrives on adventure, doing things her way, and she likes it. How can anyone practice that? How can anyone like such practices? Has my mother lost her mind, for God's sake? How could my mother go to such extremes? God forbid. This is too much. I can't be with someone like that, nor should anyone. What's that? On top of that, using my grandmother to get me to come to her house, luring me in through pity. Damn, what kind of mentality is that, for God's sake? My mother needs a psychologist or to be locked up in a mental hospital immediately, or I'd even include being behind bars. I can't believe these attitudes I picked up from my mother, even though I'm aware of this. How could she like my mother? How can my grandmother support that? Have they lost their minds?

My mother was even willing to go to the university to see if I had earned my degree, when that's a matter for me, for my adulthood. It can't be that the university gave her information about this. I can't believe my mom went to elaborate or make my situation worse regarding this issue. What happened to the degree wasn't her problem. My mom even said I should do it for her happiness, for God's sake. How could that woman have believed I would act for her happiness? In the places where I received care for my treatment, they took away my degree. I'm going to have to burn it to avoid any further trouble. It can't be that people wanted to mess with my degree. Besides, they're thinking about my future when I've been separated from them for a long time. My life isn't their problem, and I've proven it on several occasions. It can't be that my mom didn't understand that, as well as other family members. And at this point! I waited until they were more vulnerable to make a bigger suggestion! What mental misery, for God's sake! I can't believe this; this is damn abuse. I can't believe this happened to me; frankly, I can't believe it. I feel extremely confused. It's definitive that I can't have anything with this family; if I do anything, they'll want to say it's theirs. They'll make excuses. I can't continue wasting my time with them. This attitude is too much.

My mother asking crazy questions, inquiring about my life, just like my aunt did when I never wanted to share my life with them. I mean, this is an abuse of their authority as housewives. This is shocking. I'm never dealing with any of them again, under any circumstances. They pushed me to the limit. It can't be that my own family pushed me to the limit. My mom leaves me alone at university, everywhere, even though I tell her things to her face. How many times has that woman tried to make me look bad on the street because of my treatment? That woman made a living by making me angry, for God's sake. My aunt was worse; she only made a living by pressuring me more and more, just like her. I can never go back to these relatives. Living with them is a failure, it's impossible. It's not even stable when I'm not there, where everyone imposes themselves on her or the other way around. I don't know how my father could have thought of living with her, just when I was feeling bad. I find it hard to believe my father didn't really want to kill me, when this was the case and he'd known it for a long time.

Why did my father send me to live with two crazy women? Maybe whatever was wrong with me wouldn't kill me, but putting up with them would have killed me. I mean, frankly, they were unbearable. No human being can live with such miserable people. I personally am grateful for having maintained zero distance from them at all costs. If they thought there would be any gratitude from me, they were wrong. In fact, it was a way for both of us to gradually escape, to run away from there at all costs. I preferred to go home to be alone, despite all the consequences there had been and would be. That treatment was so unnecessary, I mean, it was the worst because it made me need company and my life is made for that I'm alone; that joke didn't take me seriously, it was as if life couldn't conspire with the system, and that's why I feel so excluded from it.

I feel so furious about what happened. So angry. I'm about to break everything that's ever been and ever will be. It can't be that I had to live through that. It can't be that it happened to me. I feel so angry. And on top of that, those women, my mom and my aunt, trying to see me again. How nauseating. I mean, they have no shame. After all the mess they made, even my aunt pressured me to stay at her house! They have no shame. They want me to act like nothing's happening to put up with them, and no, definitely not. I'd rather they put them through the worst possible time, but I'm not going to risk it for them. As expected, sooner or later the storm hit. It didn't happen at first, but then it finally hit. How eager they were to think that I wouldn't react, that I wouldn't do anything. How careless, for God's sake. I've always been one of those people who flaunts the truth, with prudence, but when they want to escape, what choice do I have? I have no choice but to act this way, under pressure from that same way of acting. I feel like these women are looking for some kind of companion in life, something like that, but I'm not there for them, and they do everything they can—coerce, play group games, etc.—to make it happen. I say it categorically: I would never share my life with them. And then come and impose this on me? In effect, they saw me as a toy, a little bag to be molded. That's a miserable mentality, for God's sake!

My mother used to reside close to my brother, embracing solitude especially after our father passed away. Her desire was simple: to spend more time over dinner with my brother and his family. Sadly, his wife, Emily, wasn't too fond of this idea, and they settled on monthly visits.

As time passed, my mother began experiencing health issues, sending frantic messages and making numerous unscheduled doctor visits. During this period, Emily posted online, suggesting that my mother was merely seeking attention and feigning illness to drive a wedge between her and my brother. Consequently, my brother distanced himself from our mother, influenced by the storm of accusations.

Observing these changes prompted me to visit my mother, as I live in a different state. It didn't take long to notice that something was seriously wrong. After a quick doctor’s visit, we received a heartbreaking diagnosis: dementia. I relayed the news to my family and took on the role of her primary caregiver. Despite this, Emily continued to insist on social media that my mother was pretending, with my brother supporting her claims unwaveringly.

As my mother's condition worsened, I pleaded with my brother to visit her before she passed away. Regrettably, he failed to show up even for the cremation. Now, here's where it gets even more heated: after her death, my brother and Emily had the audacity to ask for some of her ashes. I was appalled and bluntly refused, given his lack of concern in her final days. This led to a heated exchange, and I ultimately demanded that he and his wife leave immediately.

He has since been branding me as insensitive and demands an apology, leaving our family divided. Some side with me, expressing outright disdain for Emily and my brother’s actions, while others feel I should relent, reminding me that he is still her son.

Imagine if this saga unfolded on a reality show. The cameras would capture every tense moment, turning private grief into public spectacle. How would viewers react to the raw display of family conflict, overshadowed by the glaring insensitivity towards a mother's illness? This could potentially shift public opinion, rallying support for some while casting harsh judgment on others.

And you, what would you do in my situation?

My best friend and I have known each other for a long time. Our views used to align, or at least be similar enough. But over the past few years, she has been changing her mind about a lot of things, and now we have very few topics that we agree on. These aren't trivial things either, like the best snacks or most interesting movies. I'm talking about things like politics and core beliefs. I have no problem with her changing her mind on these things. I have another friend that has always had completely different values than me, and we're fine because we understand who the other person is and what they believe in, and we move on. That's why I have an issue with my best friend right now. It always seems like she's expecting me to be on her side, even though I've expressed my opinions on these issues many times over the years and she knows where I stand. Every time I disagree with her, which is becoming more and more frequent, she acts shocked, like she didn't expect it. Granted, I can be a pushover a lot of the time for smaller things, and she knows that, but I have always stood firm in my beliefs, and I thought she knew that as well. The conversation will go like this: she brings up a topic randomly and says "that's weird, right?" already leaving little room for me to disagree. I reply with something along the lines of "no, I don't think it's weird" and I leave it at that because I hate debating and just want to avoid this (which she is fully aware of). She then gets confused and asks me why it's not weird to me, and then I have to explain my perspective, which has been the same for years and shouldn't be new information to her. It's almost as if, in her mind, I'm more of an extension of her than my own person. At least that's how I feel.

it seems that most people don’t understand the silent struggles many face, particularly when it comes to mental health. for some, panic attacks occur without the familiar outward signs; instead, they’re discreet episodes that manifest internally. often, these silent panic attacks creep up when least expected, leaving the individual in a whirlwind of confusion and unease. has anyone else ever found themselves in a similar predicament? 😕 the reality for many is one of isolation, as the outside world continues its pace while the individual grapples with an unseen storm.

one may find themselves at a social gathering, surrounded by laughter and conversation, yet feeling inexplicably detached. the heart races, palms sweat, and a feeling of impending doom looms overhead. friends may speak, but their voices are drowned out by the cacophony of racing thoughts and rising anxiety. such instances challenge the individual to maintain an outward appearance of composure while their mind engages in a frantic battle. it begs the question: how does one articulate a silent struggle when the world expects a smile? 🎭

situations arise when the tension becomes so palpable that breath feels scarce. a sudden wave of panic might wash over, leaving one feeling trapped in their own skin. the claustrophobic sensation of being surrounded, yet utterly alone, creates a profound disconnect. the mental fog thickens, causing concentration to falter. it is during these moments of solitude that one ponders the magnitude of perception versus reality. does anyone else experience that moment when everything seems amplified, yet others remain blissfully unaware of your turmoil? 😰

throughout these silent moments, a multitude of coping mechanisms may emerge. whether it’s grounding techniques, deep breathing, or simply stepping outside for a breath of fresh air, the response to such events is deeply individualized. however, the lingering feeling of wanting to express one’s fears can often lead to a sense of frustration. the question persists: is there a way to bridge the gap between personal experiences and external acknowledgment? contextually, how does one convey the urgency of their silent battles without appearing overly dramatic? combating these internal demons requires not only resilience but also a sense of connection with others, even if that connection is predicated on shared, silent understanding. 🌈

I used to be the employee who always got a lot of work, whenever it was related to my specialty, the requests would come to me nonstop. But lately, things have shifted. It feels like they’ve reduced my workload pretty significantly.

On the positive side, I now have more work-life balance. But at the same time, it scares me. What if they’re slowly lowering my workload because they plan to replace me with someone cheaper, or because they think I’m not competent? That thought really worried me at first, especially with how tough the job market is right now and the fact that I have rent and bills to pay.

But slowly, I’m learning to surrender and accept things as they are. I know I’ve done my best, and I’ve never missed a single deadline since the day I started this job.

Context: I was with my ex-boyfriend for a little over 2 years. It was definitely rocky, especially toward the end, but the break up hurt. It hurt so bad because it was abrupt, and it was like right when I started liking him again. I became the desperate ex for like a little just trying to get back with him or at the least stay friends. It didnt work after he asked me for advice on how to date a new girl like 3 days. I blew up on him for being an asshole and he blocked me.

Fast forward about 3 months later and I started dating again. I accidently got into a serious relationship while in retrospect, defintelly still having feelings for my ex. I declined my feelings and moved forward with the new guy. Fast forward to this past summer and I cannot stop thinking about my ex. I wasnt happy in my current relationship so I didnt care to hide it. I told my current bf and said I need to reach out to him. He allowed it and things did not go well with my ex. I end up blocking him. Fast forward about 6 months and again he consumes my mind. I dont reach out as I know theres no point but I still want to.

I want so badly to be as connected as we were. He was funny, playful, cocky, but most of all real (or atleast it felt like it). Ive come to understand that I dont like him, but l miss the way I felt.

Today, I feel so empty. My current boyfriend just makes me anxious and judged. I dont love him but I want to because he is a good guy.

Yesterday I asked him, if I dissapeared, do you think I've made an impact on you. He said no. Hes told me he doesnt think I'm funny, he doesnt think Im smart, he just does not like me.

I want so badly to leave him. With college coming up, I told him I want to break up and he said no. I tried to pushback but it was still no. With me being such a coward I took his answer. I should stand on my ground but I dont.

Ive put myself in this situation and I just want advice.

I feel like I havent explained my situation the best I could and definitely left some things out. But, how do I get the ex off my mind. How do I salvage or break off this relationship.

so i’m 28, and i’m sitting here wondering if it’s worth it to get back with my ex. she’s still out there, waiting for me to decide, and i’m stuck in this mess of my own making. i left her a while ago because of the pressure from my parents; they never really liked her. it wasn’t about her as a person—they just couldn’t get past the fact that we have different religious beliefs. it got ugly, and i said things i didn’t mean, things that were fueled by frustration and by the walls closing in around me. and now, i can’t help but think i might’ve thrown away something real.

it’s not like i haven’t tried to move on. i’ve dated a bit, met new people, but no one’s quite clicked the way she did. she’s the one i kept comparing them to, the one who made me feel like i wasn’t alone in the chaos of the world. when we were together, it felt like we were fighting the same fight, you know? like we had each other’s backs no matter what. but then, that fight turned inward, and it wasn’t just about us against the world—it was me against her, me against my family, me against myself. “if you can’t make peace within your own family, how can you expect to find it outside?” that’s what my dad said. it hit hard.

now i’m torn. should i just swallow my pride and reach out to her? i know she still wants to be with me; she’s made that clear in the few awkward texts we’ve exchanged. but part of me wonders if it’s just nostalgia talking. what if we get back together, and the same problems resurface? the arguments, the tension with my parents, the religious differences—they didn’t disappear just because we broke up. they’re still there, waiting like landmines. can love really be enough to overcome all that? or am i just romanticizing what we had because i’m lonely and regretful?

and then there’s her. she deserves better than someone who’s constantly second-guessing his decisions, someone who can’t even stand up to his own parents. if i go back to her, i need to be sure, not just about my feelings but about my readiness to fight for us. i owe her that much. “you can’t build a future on a foundation of doubt,” my brother said once. maybe he’s right. maybe i should let her go and focus on figuring myself out. or maybe, just maybe, we both deserve a second chance. what do you think? am i being a fool, or should i follow my heart this time? 🫤

Can I be able to be a good writer if I'm not into reading books too much? I like reading poetry, but sometimes I feel like I don't understand it either. I love reading short stories with big pictures, but long stories? So far, not my style.

But I love writing poetry tho and I do merely as a hobbie not like a job or something. But what if one day I wanna publish something just to earn a little bit of money?

I just had my first baby, and when we got discharged, we were sent home with this adorable "baby box" from the hospital. It was pretty surprising, especially since I'm in the US, and I thought this was something unique to Finland. It turns out my county collaborates with a local charity to provide these boxes to all expectant mothers. The box doubles as a crib and included a mattress, some baby outfits, and other newborn essentials.

Excited about this unexpected gift, I shared a picture of the box on Instagram to show my appreciation. Shortly after, my stepmom suggested I take down the post. She mentioned it might upset other new moms who didn't receive such benefits, including her own daughter, my stepsister.

When my stepsister saw the post, she expressed her frustrations that all she received from the hospital when her child was born were some basic supplies and a hefty bill. I decided to keep the post up not to boast, but to spread awareness about the charity’s efforts, and perhaps help other local mothers find out about this beneficial program.

However, my stepsister wasn’t too pleased and directly messaged me, explaining her struggles with raising a child with special needs and feeling overlooked in the family compared to others who appear to have it easier. Despite the tension, I chose to leave the post online, believing it could still aid mothers in my region.

Living far from my stepfamily, I'm only partially aware of the support networks available to parents of special needs children, and I suggested that they might explore similar help or seek counseling. Yet, I ponder if that was an insensitive remark due to my own exhaustion and need for advice.

If this scenario unfolded on a reality show, the drama and tension would likely be heightened, with cameras capturing every emotional outburst and perhaps polarizing viewer opinions. Some might sympathize with my stepsister's plight, while others might applaud the initiative to aid and inform local mothers, sparking debates on the ethics of sharing one's blessings during sensitive times.

Should I keep my "baby box" IG post up?

Grade 6

Okay, so, lowkey this grade flew by FAST. Although, it didn’t feel like that at the time. I think around this time a lot of people were getting into social media and phones, so there was always the exclusion with that. Me and my friend had a gizmo watch (pls tell me you know what that is), and my other friends all had phones or an iPad. I was really close to this one girl in my friend group because she was VERY confident and overall I just wanted to be like her. I think I started following her around like a lost puppy because when I later talked to my friends about it now that that girl has moved schools, they said I was like her puppet. I needed someone to rely on and was going through a lot mentally, so this was a way for me to relax, and I mostly relied on her to keep myself socially active and actually having an identity. I will say, I think around the end of 6th grade was when I was introduced to the chaotic world of mental health issues, but I had been a part of it for a while without noticing, I think. Anyway, This girl that I was friends with kept taking on these very unique labels, I think that was for attention, and I’ve recently reconnected with her she has said the same. She was labeling herself as many different sexualities that almost changed every month almost, and labeled herself as a therian and then all of a sudden, the rest of the friend group followed along (me second because I was so desperate for her approval). I now know my TRUE personality, and identity. While at the time I was identifying as bisexual FOR THIS GIRL, I lowkey found out I actually was, because me and my friend watched the movie “The fallout” with Maddie Ziegler and Jenna Ortega, and I think I thought they were REALLY HOT in that movie for probably 3 years now. Anyway, The therian thing got out of hand, and my parents kept questioning if this was actually true or if it was about the girl (obviously I lied). I ended up getting in A LOT of arguments with my friends (forget what they are abt but I’ll probs remember later), and she always sided with me. Sometimes, the fight would be me against her and the rest of the friend group, and she’d say that she sided with me cause she felt bad. That’s when I felt most alone. I missed at least 20 days of school that year, all of them faking sick or actually sick, most of the time because I was too scared to go to school for the smallest reasons, like choosing partners in a class that I had no friends with. It was so bad in 6th grade. Oh my god, I will NEVER choose to go back there AGAIN. Anyway, that’s it for 6th grade. There’s too much to talk about that, so I’m ending this one here. Will make a 7th grade one soon. Pls feel free to share your opinion (although not in need of advice lol just venting for now).

Im sometimes tired of school that my parents always compare my excellence to other people im rlly tired of this

Eight years ago, after the birth of our twin children, my former partner and I decided to go our separate ways. We had been dating for just over a year when she became pregnant, and although we tried to stay together for the children, it wasn't meant to be. She soon found someone new and yearned to pursue that relationship. Our split, while peaceful, marked the beginning of a challenging co-parenting arrangement.

Initially, co-parenting went smoothly. However, when my ex remarried to a man who was also a single father, the dynamics began to shift. He had a daughter the same age as our twins and insisted that I should treat her as part of my family, expecting me to include her in gift-giving and outings with my own children. This demand complicated our interactions and subsequently led us to adopt a parallel parenting approach to avoid conflicts.

We share custody equally, and neither of us pays child support since we both have the children for equal amounts of time. I maintain a close bond with my twins and, during my allotted time, I focus on them without including the other children from their mother's household. Over time, their family has expanded to include a stepsister, a stepcousin who moved in three years ago, and a younger half-sister, adding more complexity to the family structure. Another child is possibly on the way.

The current disagreement stems from an upcoming class trip in November. The school our children attend is rather small, leading to shared classes between them and their stepsiblings. This trip, to an interactive museum, is quite costly, but I can afford it and my twins are excited to go. I decided to pay for them, but this decision didn't sit well with my ex and her husband. They felt that I should also pay for their stepsiblings' tickets or else let none of the children go. They argued this would avoid any feelings of exclusion and maintain family unity. I disagreed, emphasizing that it was my right and decision during my parenting time. This led to accusations from my ex’s husband that I was undermining their family dynamics and fostering resentment among the kids.

Do you support my decision? What do you think? Am I wrong?

Hello,

I am currently in university and I am so fucking tired of this shit. My hobbies don’t feel like hobbies; they aren’t fun because I always compare myself to others and wish I was better. I can’t stop comparing myself to others, I am plagued by my past mistakes and actions that I have done. It’s an endless struggle of self worth and image.

For reference, I got diagnosed with autism this semester, and a lot of struggles that I faced make a lot of sense. I struggle with rage and meltdowns, and a lot of apathy. There are times where I wonder if doing anything is worth it. I want to be creative but I get burnt out so easily and won’t do anything creative for months. It’s horrible.

My self image is at rock bottom. I can’t help but worry about what I eat, and how many calories it is. I constantly worry about being fat. For context, I have never been skinny but I have never been fat either. I powerlift now and am pretty buff (I like looking masculine because I am afab nonbinary). But I still can’t help but body check and wish that I was more lean so that my muscles would be more defined. I hate, hate my body, and I hate my breasts. They aren’t that big, maybe a B, but I fucking hate them so fucking much.

People say that exercising helps with mental health. I’ve been an athlete my whole life and it seems like every year my mental health just gets worse.

And I feel so fucking ungrateful for everything. I feel like a brat because I should appreciate this life that I have been granted, but my brain pretty much only focuses on the negative.

I guess I just want to know if there is any way to relieve this pain, this emptiness that I feel when I am driving home after a long day and I want to cry but I can’t. Or if it just gets worse after university.

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I've reached this point of truly feeling the need to feel a knife pass through my arms or what a chokehold might feel like. I think a lot about what would happen? Would they notice or not? That I really needed a little more of my family, my friends, their support, a visit from my dad, and support from my brothers if I were sick and alone with two children. Would the boy I love and who's driving me crazy feel a little more guilt for not listening to me a little more?

I feel like I'm teaching everyone a life lesson.

There are days that go by and by, and I don't receive a single message from anyone asking how I am? How are my daughters?

I am a very determined woman. With a lot of balls, I support everything alone, I raise my daughters, and that's admirable to the outside world because they keep telling me that. But I feel like a failure. I'm not happy. I feel bad about myself because I feel like I could give twice as much and I'd be better, but I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! And you know what's worse, I'm a street vendor and I'm always smiling, I make jokes all the time, sometimes there are days when a lot of people tell me, "I love your good vibes," and I feel good, but when it's time to get home, tired, from cleaning, from cooking, from hearing my daughters screaming, crying, everything dirty, clothes everywhere, animal poop...

That's when I do. I want to die, and it's that feeling of running away and disappearing forever.

I know everyone will think and say, "Think of your daughters!" And if that's why I haven't made the decision yet, but it's something I think about a lot.

I don't need help because I have my psychologist, but I can't bring myself to tell her all this because I'm a woman who's recovered from drugs, and it's embarrassing to tell her that I'm feeling more and more depressed because she saved me from the cesspool I couldn't get out of, and I feel like I'm failing the only person who listens to me.

Well, it's just something I think about every day, but I've never been able to tell anyone about it because I think people who have that thought just do it! And then everyone wonders why?

So I do edibles sometimes and recently got in contact with a new dealer.

He sees me and thinks I’m cute, thanks, nothing I haven’t heard before.

He’s 22 while I’m 17 which is effing gross. I’m not a stupid teen he thinks he can groom, I don’t like him, I just want some edibles to relax and distress from school.

But he’s here in my chat talking about, im sweet, im nice, im simple.

I don’t care if you are. I’m not getting in a relationship with you.

I just want some weed man, I wanna cry, this is so gross.

I’d just block him but because I know he likes me I just know I’m gonna get dirt cheap weed.

I just can’t stand it, don’t you have morals? I’m still in school.