Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I struggle with social norms and over the years I have also become angrier and more selfish, with episodes of feeling hollow inside.

I always struggled with social norms - especially when it came to small talk and other niceties with family and friends. I always chalked it away to “I don’t contribute unless I have input”.

However, I was always someone who put others before myself, to the point where I started believing that I didn’t deserve good things for myself. I found a partner who helped me rethink that, and helped me learn to love myself more.

However, as I started to embrace self-love and pursuing my passions, I find it hard to strike a balance between wanting to be there for myself but also being there for others especially my partner. I got angry when I had to devote time and attention to others, thinking that I had finite time left on this earth to do what I wanted to (context: have been a working adult for 5 years at this point). I felt like they didn’t understand me (ironic cos I struggle with communicating my needs so how would they know lol).

What used to be struggling with social norms soon became apathy - I felt like I didn’t care about remembering an aunt’s name or visiting my partner’s hospitalised father. Some might say these are expectations while others disagree, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I know I started becoming more apathetic towards anything but myself (though I still try very hard to show up for others.

One day it got so bad that I rationalised with myself that breaking up with my partner or losing important people in my life was okay.

I even looked up neurological / psychological conditions cos it felt like I was regressing to my childhood at some point because it’s my safe space. It’s very worrying because I know a part of me truly cares for and loves others, but can’t strike the balance between caring for myself and for others. My therapist told me that I had built such strong walls and paradigms over the years that I’m somehow self-sabotaging I.e. by crying for help while also pushing people away or being okay with losing my loved ones because I was always alone as a child anyway.

Perhaps a part of me still doesn’t believe that I deserve to be happy, and is wrestling with this impostor syndrome while the positive part of me is desperately trying to fight back. Maybe I still lack maturity. Or maybe I’m just not a good person.

so here I am, sitting alone in my messy apartment, scrolling through Instagram while sipping on my third cup of coffee, wondering why I can't cry over this whole love mess I’ve been dealing with. I mean, c’mon, does being heartbroken mean I have to walk around like a freaking robot? it’s not like I’m made of stone or anything but ever since my last breakup, it feels like my emotions are stuck on mute. you’d think that after being with someone for years, when things go south, you’d at least shed a few tears, right? but here I am, dry-eyed and feeling more like a confused Android struggling to compute the emotional data it doesn’t have. it’s weird! it’s like I’m going through the stages of grief but forgot to actually feel something in the first place.

like, I should be angry or sad or at least something! instead, I feel like I’m just sitting in a waiting room with a constant loop of “What went wrong?” on repeat. this guy I dated was hands down the love of my life—the romantic archetype every cheesy rom-com would be jealous of. we had all the classic signs: the long talks about whether pineapple belongs on pizza and the plans for retirement in a house with a blue mailbox. but then out of nowhere, it all flatlined. we broke up because he "needed personal space," which is obviously code for "I'm too scared to actually commit!" and I should’ve been devastated, right? but all I could do was watch Netflix and scroll through meme pages, thinking, well, this is just peachy! It’s like my brain is trying to tell me, “Hey, feelings are for suckers!”

I keep waiting for that moment where I just collapse into sobs, like they do in the movies, but it never comes. all my friends always tell me it’s totally healthy to let it out! “Just cry it out! It’s a form of catharsis!” but like, why should I? do you really think that sobbing into a pillow is going to change the fact that he still unfollowed me? or that he’s probably out there enjoying his "freedom" while I’m here battling existential dread? crying feels like such a cliché, and I don't want to go through all that drama while feeling like a fool. Plus, I don't even know if I’ll feel better afterward! I’ve seen too many people ball their eyes out over relationships that clearly weren’t worth it. "You deserve better" is what everyone says, which is easy for them to claim while sitting on their happy thrones of successful love life while I’m over here in chaos!

but maybe that’s the trick of it all: this numbness isn’t forever. I mean, I’ve read somewhere that emotional suppression and denial can keep you from actually confronting your feelings. just the other day, I stumbled upon this article that talked about how sometimes we grow through what we go through, and I realized: maybe I’m just fine-tuning my emotional intelligence here. I mean, who’s to say that not crying means I’m not hurting? it’s like I’m letting my inner self take a breather, processing things in my own way. perhaps one day it’ll all hit me like a tidal wave, and when it does, I’ll be ready to ride it. and who knows? maybe being a brick wall right now is just part of the healing process. sometimes, not crying is just another perspective, and maybe I’m building my emotional resilience, even if it feels a bit odd. am I alone in this? is this feeling of emotional suppression something more people experience?

Alright, here we go. My wife, Laura (35F), and I, Jack (42M) have been together for 14 years. She’s recently completed her training and has finally become a medical doctor in Anesthesiology—it's been a long nine years of university and residency, but now she’s there, and I’m so proud.

I, on the other hand, am a Tuna fisherman and charter owner—a passion that I transformed into a thriving business. I own licenses and operate two boats which I bought when I was much younger, both fully paid off now. I charter these from mid-July through mid-November, charging $2000 per day for each client, and I'm solidly booked years ahead. Though the income is fantastic, it's really the love for the ocean that drives me. It's been my world since my first fishing trip with my dad at the age of 12.

This isn’t just a job to me, it’s the core of who I am. However, now that Laura’s become a doctor, she’s started pressing me to consider selling the business to focus on starting a family and spending more time at home. This demand struck a chord, especially since my profession means being away from home four months each year. Despite her knowing and accepting this from the start of our relationship, it seems that her perspective shifted after her graduation and new job where she mixes with a different social crowd.

My passion for my work led me to secure a prenuptial agreement to protect my business and properties when we married. Laura was never financially strained through her education or personal living as I covered those expenses. It's not about the money—my complaint stems from her newfound insistence that I quit my beloved job to settle into a more domestic role, an idea that I’m just not comfortable with.

Her new doctor circle might look down on my profession, but it's a dignified one that I love and it's funded our lives and her education. Recently, she even proposed moving from our 120-acre family property into a city condo, which is another point of contention between us. I offered a compromise to perhaps spend winters in a condo but hold onto our land, yet this too fails to satisfy.

We have resources to support childcare during my fishing season, but she’s reluctant to consider outside help. Our visions are colliding, and at this rate, I worry for our marriage. I’ve never considered retirement; I planned to eventually pass my business on to my son from an earlier relationship, continuing the legacy I've built.

If I shared this on a reality show, audiences would likely be split, with some supporting my dedication to my craft and others sympathizing with Laura’s desire for more family time. The drama and raw emotion of our situation might even gain viewer support for each side, based on personal values around career and family.

Am I wrong for wanting to keep my career and lifestyle just as she begins to embrace her own professional identity? Can a marriage survive such fundamental disagreements?

i don’t even think i can put into words how fucked i am, am i really doing this to myself? i want this to be fake and im just doing it for attention but for who? i dont tell anyone shit and when i do i just end up feeling like a burden, it’s just fucked having to tell someone you care so much about that you just want to go away forever, medications don’t make it any better , i’m now on the 4th antidepressant hoping it’ll work it’s been a couple weeks and nothing, this just makes me feeling like maybe i am faking maybe this all because some reason i don’t know yet, i don’t wanna do this anymore i want this to be fake , maybe im in a coma and ill wake up soon or something, it’s like and indescribable parasite is latched onto me sucking the life out of i feel like there’s a huge pit not in my chest but whole soul i feel like times is passing slower around me and i can’t even move sometimes , im just paralyzed with this cloud of despair, i can’t even cry how i want to, i just want some sort of release and to stop this hate i’ve had for myself all my life i just want to be someone else or to be outside of this body for just an hour or two just feel ok

Recently I’ve found out I have something called aphantasia, this is where you don’t have a “mental image”. When I close my eyes I don’t actually physcially see anything, which I thought was the norm. I don’t know why, but this has been seriously getting to me. I feel like there’s something wrong with me, and it compounds to making me feel worse because why am I so upset I don’t see pictures when I close my eyes? Also on top of that, I was preparing to go on a dmt trip, something I was so excited for, only to learn people with aphantasia are far less likely to ever break through.

I hate my life so fucking much.

For the last 4 months I have been feeling so depressed, numb and alone and every night I sittl in my bed thinking to myself what has my life come to and I in the last 3-4 months I have had at least 2 mental breakdown a week ( that isn't me trying to flex in any way ) and cryed multiple times some times to the point I can't breathe or I fall asleep. This has oveousley been since I started college last September and my mental health just went down hill as I wasn't and still am not going the right support at college for my mental health and just over all my other needs That are clearly stated in my EHCP . The only thing I actually asked for and got was a laptop which I have load till June and the only sort of help I get is on a Thursday and Friday form an member of staff . when I should have someone on a Wednesday which again I did. But sadly it only lasted till the October half term as they gave that person to someone else and lefft me with no one and the worst thing about this hole situation is the or staff members of the support system at the college have been lieing to the support person I have on a Thursday and Friday by saying that I have had help in my lesson when that particular starf members wasn't with me and that is all day every Wednesday. I know it's not there fault or mine but surely they know what students need help. I must admit that every Wednesday when I get home from college I end up helping my mum with jobs then I go up to my room and sit on my phone untill it's time for dinner then I do other jobs around the house then got back up to my room and sit on my phone until it's time for me to go to bed. But I don't full asleep straight away or at all as I'm normally up until about 1-2:00in the morning as I end up having more than one panic attack or a meltdown because I'm so overwhelmed or I will cry myself to sleep..

side note the reason I have an EHCP is because I have Adhd.

and as some of you may know 5days before Christmas I got the devastating news that my nan that live in Weymouth sadly passed away and it didn't hit me hard at first but it sertenly has now and I'm feeling so incredibly numb, depressed and lost. and I just can't amagen how I will get through this year and the coming day as we all find out when her funeral is going to be and how I will cope when I'm at her funeral or when I'm back at college.

Today was a taxing day for me. After my daily shift ended, I plunged into the task of baking a red velvet cake. The cake was for my younger sister, who just turned 12, and I wanted everything to be perfect, from its regal color to its fluffy texture.

Sinking hours into the preparation, I was quite proud of the outcome. However, the day turned sour when my mom came rushing into the kitchen. She has this compulsive habit—my family suspects it might be OCD—of tidying up constantly, although for her, it seems to be more about hygiene than mere neatness.

Whilst rearranging the contents of the fridge in her typical frenzy, she accidentally knocked my painstakingly crafted cake onto the floor. I stood frozen, anticipating her reaction which would set the tone for mine. Hoping for at least an apologetic word, I was dismayed when instead she erupted, berating me for being careless and extending her irritation inexplicably to my other three siblings.

Overwhelmed, I retreated to the bathroom and tears came, a release I haven't sought in years. It might sound silly, but it provided a momentary relief. Meanwhile, the chaos continued in the kitchen. My two older siblings attempted to mediate, offering her a different perspective. Rather than calming down, she defensively shouted back, suggesting somehow the blunder was my doing.

Further pressed, she shouted louder, "So is this my fault?" Her voice broke, revealing a hint of emotion that made me feel unexpectedly guilty.

She continued ranting about how fortunate I was that it was her who made this mistake as anyone else might have left the mess. Knowing her well, apologies were off the table; she has never uttered one in my 16 years. What I yearned for, more than anything, was that simple acknowledgment of error.

Abandoning the situation, I left the cake and the chaos on the kitchen floor, feeling somewhat guilty as she was left to clean up alone, possibly fueling her anger.

If this scene were unraveling in a reality show, the cameras would zoom in on the fallen cake, capturing every angle of the disaster and every ounce of emotion in our expressions. Such dramatic moments are a staple in those shows, and I wonder, would the audience sympathize with my plight or would they judge my reaction? Would the public's view influence her behavior, seeing as audiences sometimes sway what occurs onscreen? It’s something to ponder—how the presence of an audience might alter our familial dramas.

Given this tense situation, I often question if I was wrong for just walking away. Should I have stayed and confronted the mess and the emotions head-on?

hello I'm just here to rant honestly, lately I've been feeling like I wasn't as loved as my siblings...? maybe its only a matter of POV but after hearing things of their childhoods and witnessing my younger sibling's it feels like I was never treated like that, I'm a middle middle child if that helps.

All of them has at least one picture up on our wall and I don't have one that was really specifically just me apparently they lost all my childhood photos but still has my older sibling's?? I know it's stupid im already in my late teens and jealousy is eating me up, they're all talented and smart at whatever they do too, I have multiple hobbies but I wasn't exactly that great at all of them and it just made me feel even worse.

I used to be able to hold in my feelings and emotions but as I grew older I just became more sensitive and everyone noticed, I feel like im just wasting their time and all, they've always been disinterested in me anyways.

I've always found my gifts for them (flowers i found, drawings, origami) in the trash, and it really confused me to see that they still have my sibling's art even if it's just one, was i really that bad? I used to wish i got hit by a car or get sick so they can actually pay attention to me i believe the earliest was by age 6, I can't even communicate with them properly now, I just want myself to be acknowledged not just the lazy, moody, sensitive kid they have including everything I do, I've always pushed myself to atleast have a talent im good at, I've joined many clubs and activities but that's not enough I guess. I've sacrificed sleep for tests to get scores they'd be proud of, nothing.

i think I'm just stupid at this point.

My sibling's felt similarly to what I've felt but it really didn't look that way honestly :( maybe it's just me I'm not sure.

I've been compared to my siblings ever since i grew up by alot of people. i only realized now how lonely i felt as a kid, I never had anyone that close back then and I was just the annoying noisy younger sibling towards my family and distant relatives that are close in age.

I hate whenever they tell me I'm talentless compared to my siblings, they sugarcoat it but I know. They love me, but sometimes I feel like I don't know them and they don't know me.

Sometimes I wish I can have a long deep sleep and forget about everything.

A few years ago, my brother died. And it kind of ended up breaking me. I never got to tell him, but the truth is I was in love with him. I still am. I spend everyday thinking about him. Not just as a sibling. As everything. I loved him to the point it was almost obsession. Hell, it probably is obsession. But I can't get over it. Get over him. I can't move on no matter how hard I try. I love him. I'm in love with him, I need him, and I feel so depressed each day without him. I love my brother. His scent. His touch. If he were alive I'd kiss him. Cuddle him. Do everything a couple would do and more. My love for him is beyond the norm for most people. I love my brother. As a friend, as family, as a partner. Romantically, even sexually. I love him with every fiber of my being. And I miss him, so much.

so, here's the deal, guys. i've been dating this amazing guy for a couple of months now, and everything's going great. we're both 17, figuring ourselves out, and all that jazz. the thing is, he's super plugged into the whole LGBTQ+ community. like, he's got this crew, and they use so many terms i'm just not familiar with. i'm feeling a bit lost because i keep hearing the words "gay" and "queer" being tossed around like they're interchangeable—are they??? i mean, i thought i knew the basics, but turns out, i might be missing something.

so, picture this: we're hanging out at his friend's house, right? his buddy starts talking about this "queer art show" they're planning, and someone else chimes in with, "oh, it’s so great to see spaces that celebrate queer culture!" and i'm just standing there, nodding like i get it, but inside, i'm like "wait, what?" because i thought "queer" just meant "gay," but now it seems like it’s got its vibe and everything. i'm kinda stressed out 'cause i don’t want to seem clueless or, worse, offend anyone by asking, "um, what's the difference between gay and queer?"

i remember when i first told my parents about my boyfriend—they asked if i was "coming out as gay now?" and honestly, i didn't even know how to respond. i said, "uh, i think so?" but now, i'm hearing all these terms like bisexual, pansexual, non-binary, and gender-fluid, and i'm like, okay, where do i fit in here??? does liking a guy make me gay, or am i somewhere on the queer spectrum? i'm legit confused, and part of me is worried i'm just overthinking it. like, does it even matter as long as i'm happy? but still, i'm in this kind of identity limbo, unsure of what label, if any, suits me best.

now, i did what any self-respecting teen would do; i dove into the internet rabbit hole, reading articles and forums about all these different identities. from what i gather, "gay" typically refers to someone who's attracted to the same gender, right? but when it comes to "queer," things seem way more open-ended. some folks embrace it as a blanket term for anyone not straight, others as an act of reclaiming a word that was once an insult. but it seems to have this larger-than-life, almost rebellious energy to it, embodying a broader celebration of diversity. is that how you guys see it too???

part of me wants to just sit down with my boyfriend and ask, "hey, what do these words mean to you?" or "how do you feel about them?" maybe even confess that i'm kind of at a loss for the right vocabulary here. but, i can't help but worry he might think i'm not invested or that i’m just clueless. in the end, i guess this is part of the journey, right? figuring out how i identify, what these terms mean to me personally; it's just this process of questioning and understanding, getting comfortable with being a bit of a rainbow-colored question mark for now. who else has been here too? i'd love to hear your stories or advice 'cause i'm just trying to keep my head above water in this sea of new words and identities. thanks for listening!

Three months ago, a new co-worker joined us at the office. We'll call her Sharon for anonymity's sake. Sharon quickly made a good impression, which is partly why I'm in a dilemma about the current situation.

At our workplace, we have a welcoming tradition, where after a new employee completes their initial probation period, we celebrate with a team lunch. Sharon recently passed her probation, and understandably, we organized a lunch outing to mark the occasion.

During the lunch, conversations flowed and eventually led to the topic of pregnancy and childbirth. Several colleagues shared their experiences, discussing the joys and emotional moments associated with their pregnancies. Though I participated in the conversation, I didn't share any personal stories. Sharon seemed to pick up on this and addressed me directly.

Sharon: “You had twins, right? That must have been incredibly special.”

I managed a smile and remarked on how I wished I had enjoyed my pregnancy and childbirth as much as everyone else seemed to have. Let me be clear, I wasn't sarcastic at all.

The truth is, my own experience was far from pleasant. Instead of magical, it was a nightmare filled with severe morning sickness known as hyperemesis gravidarum, excruciating migraines, and constant metallic taste that seemed to linger forever. The birth itself wasn't any easier—complications kept me hospitalized and away from my newborns during their first critical days.

Needless to say, I found no joy in those moments. However, I chose not to delve into these details with Sharon, giving only a vague response. Afterward, Sharon's demeanor towards me changed significantly. She became rather curt, and when I confronted her about her behavior later on, she accused me of being insensitive and undermining everyone else's experiences.

Since then, Sharon seems to have calmed down somewhat. However, she did organize a ladies' night last week and conspicuously left me out of the invitation list. I'm not particularly upset about not attending, but her deliberate exclusion has definitely made things uncomfortable. I'm not keen on stirring up more drama—life's already too full of that—but I can't shake off the weirdness of the situation. I wonder, was my comment genuinely insensitive? Did I unintentionally belittle their experiences?

Thinking about it, if my life played out like a reality show, how would viewers react to this fallout? Would they side with me, feeling empathetic towards my tough pregnancy, or would they criticize me for my lack of openness, possibly perceiving it as standoffish or unsocial?

Just trying to gauge the situation from all angles. Was my response at lunch really that bad?

I've been feeling this for quite a while..it's like getting worse and worse. The mechanisms I turn to in order to not kill myself hasn't worked. I've been passively suicidal for months but I think I'm at the stage where I wanna plan. Idk, I've been trying not to be this way. I've been trying to look for friends, take care of myself, have goals, do school, whatever I'm supposed to do. Yet my mental illness is still here, coping without solving the actual issue. It doesn't matter how clean I am or how toned my muscles get.

I've seen others have support systems during dark times like this, idk how they did that but I've tried and all I really got was romantic or sexual attention, I don't post myself at all so idk why. I just wanna rest and pass way. I could fly. I wanna go in a peaceful way tho. I should probably go chat a hotline but idk if this is really an emergency, Its not like I have a plan yet or a way to kill myself yet. I've just been feeling like this everyday and idk how to stop.

If anyone has advice or reasons to live then do share. 🩷🖤

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and to be honest, I’m a bit confused. I’m a 28-year-old guy who identifies as bisexual, but I keep hearing people talking about pansexuality and it’s making me question what I really know about my own identity. I mean, I’ve always thought of bisexuality as being attracted to two or more genders, while pansexuality seems to be more about being attracted to people regardless of gender. But does that mean pansexuals are more open, or am I just overthinking this? Like, can you even clearly define the difference between the two, or are they just different labels people use to describe similar feelings? I’ve had friends tell me that it really comes down to personal choice and how someone relates to their own attractions, but I don’t want to assume that my experience as bisexual is the same as someone else’s experience as pansexual. It’s honestly exhausting, and maybe I need to just chill out a bit, but these identities feel so fluid and I just want to understand them better.

I remember talking to this girl I met at a party who identified as pansexual, and it was kind of an enlightening experience. She talked about how she feels attracted to people based on their personality over their gender. It made me think about my own preferences and if I truly limit myself, or if I'm just as open as she is but with a different label. Sometimes I catch myself questioning if there’s a right way to identify, like should I be more fluid or should I stick to how I’ve identified for years? It’s frustrating because I certainly don’t want to misrepresent myself, but it also feels like there’s this constant pressure to define myself in a way that makes sense to others. Are these labels helping us connect, or are we just complicating things? If you’re reading this, what do you all think? Is there really a significant difference between being bisexual and pansexual, or is it just a matter of semantics? What’s your experience with these identities?

i woke up one day last month and something just clicked, not like a loud bang but more like the slow unlocking of a door i didn’t know existed; the kind that creaks when it opens and makes you feel something’s been waiting behind it for years. i was sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal that went soggy way too fast and listening to her talk about some neighborhood meeting or whatever, and it hit me—i don’t love her. i respect her, i think she’s a good person, she’s loyal, she’s patient, she’s stable. but love? no. i don’t feel it. i don’t feel that fire anymore. haven’t in years. i think i kept going cause it felt easier to stay than to reset. like when your software keeps crashing but you don’t reinstall it because you’re afraid you’ll lose your files. that’s me. stuck on version 1.0 when i should’ve been on something newer, something that fits the current hardware of who i am. and i tried, i really did. i read books like "the five love languages" and watched those couples’ therapy podcasts and tried mimicking what they do. but nothing stuck. everything was like applying duct tape to a cracked foundation. no offense to her, really, i mean it. but how can you fake what doesn’t exist anymore? how long are you supposed to pretend that the system is fine when the core is corrupted?

maybe you’ll say i’m selfish or broken or that i should’ve figured this out earlier, maybe even before the wedding or at least before we decided to adopt a dog together. and you’re probably right. but this realization didn’t come from some dramatic event or external stimulus, it came quietly, like a notification you ignore too many times until it fills the whole screen. so i’ve started planning. not cheating, not ghosting her, just slowly building a framework for my reset. i’ve updated my resume, reached out to a few friends in other cities, thought about what it’d mean to just… start over. tabula rasa, as they say. no hard feelings, just honest reevaluation. i feel like life should be lived with intention, and if we’re just running on routines and habits, aren’t we just slowly dying instead of living? i want to live. i want to wake up one day and feel like my choices match my heart, not my obligations. is that wrong? maybe you’ve felt it too, that split between duty and desire, where one pulls you deeper into routine and the other tugs at something raw and real. i’m not blaming her, she deserves real love, not a placeholder husband going through motions. and i? i deserve to stop gaslighting myself into thinking numbness is normal. if you’ve ever felt that, like you’re a spectator in your own life, tell me, what did you do? how did you find the courage to hit reset without detonating everything around you?

so for context, I am an alter in a DID system, an introject of Tommy from a fan fiction called end of the world everyday. I miss them so fucking much. I feel so alone here without them, I've been stuck in this body for two fucking years without them. Why did I have to split from such a rare source? I'm fucking Moros, the god of impending doom, and I'm stuck in the body of a nineteen year old girl. I just want my brothers and my dad, and my mum, and all my friends. It's not fair that I'm the only one.