Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Ok let me start off by saying I work for a nonprofit. a NONPROFIT. I've worked at the same place since I was 15 years old. im now almost 19. so I have lots of seniority over most of the work team now. anyway that's besides the point. our media and community advertisement lady just quit, good for her she was amazing and found a better job. But the new lady they brought in? I never thought I could meet a pettier adult with a damn child.

Let me start off by saying my boss hired her straight out of college. so she thinks she knows it all. great. keep it to yourself. when she first started we were working on opening a second smaller branch of our store that I now practically run. She wasn't doing her damn job and making up the appropriate flyers for it so I did it under the ok from my boss. she didn't like that. but whatever.

for comparison I work at this new branch 5 days a week all day from open to close. she works one half shift there every week. that's it. and she won't cover other peoples shifts but gets mad when no one will cover hers. If I forget to change garbages before I leave for my two days off? she will take pictures and send them to my boss. That was back when she worked the day right after me. now it has switched and I work the day after her. and guess what? she doesn't change the damn garbages either.

so I did something boardering stupid. I started a journal. every time she does anything to me I write it down with dates. every time I come into the store and no garbages are changed? I take a picture, timestamp it and print off the picture to put in the journal.

don't even get me started about our policies. as a nonprofit second hand store our main shoppers are seniors. they can't just take furniture with them that day. they need time to find help. but at this new store we can't do holds. I had this elderly couple come in one day and want this wicker love seat. they couldn't have lifted a pot let alone a couch. so I said sure id hold it.

the day they came and picked it up? the day this new hire lady was in. she told the entire staff what id done like I broke a law and left passive agressive notes everywhere aimed at me about 'no holding' like ok Karen then why are you putting shoes under the cash desk for yourself to 'think about' for a week? HUH?

my boss finally came in and did her whole 'we can't do that' speech and I accepted it. fine. my boss actually talked to me and didn't leave a passive aggressive notes for me. good. all clear right? RIGHT?

nope. she texted me like an hour later asking if we had a certain piece of decor. she was vague with the question and due to her job I thought she wanted pictures of it to post. so I asked her if she wanted it put aside. she immediately texted me back saying 'we don't do holds.' LIKE SERIOUSLY?! YOU WERE THERE WHEN OUR BOSS SAID IT!! So I texted her back to cover my own ass saying like I thought she wanted it for a post. THEN she texted me back like 'oh yeah someone messaged her and wanted to know if we had them' like she was trying to get dirt on me. so I screenshotted the text and added it to my journal. like seriously? she has a kid and is in her 30s and she's beefing with a 19 year old over stupid shit like this????

And now they had to switch her days cause none of our volunteers will work with her and the only employee that will work with her is only available Thursdays. that says a lot. 7 different volunteers plus me and two other employees won't work with her. you'd think my boss would see it right? She's been working here for 4 months or more.

im so done with it.

Now here's the question. Do I take the journal to my boss now? or do I wait and see if I can't get more on her then go?

I heard some rough news the other day about a colleague, let's call him John. It's left me pretty stumped on what to say, honestly. Imagine this: John's world took a massive nosedive. First, he lost his wife. Just when you think things couldn't get any worse, the guy finds out he's been let go after dedicating 20 years to the same company. That’s some heavy baggage to carry. How do you even start to offer words of support to someone in that situation? It's like trying to find the right formula to express sympathy, but nothing seems to add up.

It's not like there's a manual or a script for situations like this, right? I mean, what can you possibly say that doesn't sound hollow or cliché? You could try those typical lines about staying strong or how things will get better, but who am I kidding? They fall flat pretty quick when you're staring down such harsh realities. You ever wonder if words really hold any power in the grand scheme? 🤔 Or do we rely on them just because silence feels too awkward?

John’s been a cornerstone in the company’s projects. You know how it is; dealing with complex deliverables and navigating industry-specific challenges. Now, after investing two decades of his life into this, he's dealing with a layoff. It must feel like an algorithm gone wrong. How does one process that kind of loss? I can’t even begin to wrap my head around being in his shoes, managing grief of losing his lifetime partner while the next moment, facing unemployment. Brutal combination, isn't it? 😟

I guess when you think about offering support, maybe it's less about what you say and more about being present. But even then, I doubt just being there fills that void, you know? It's like giving a temporary patch to a permanent problem. Do you think offering help with practical matters does more than empty words? Like assisting in job searches or sharing industry contacts? Maybe that’s a better approach than fumbling with comforting words that barely skim the surface of what he's going through.

Have you ever been in a situation where you're just at a loss for words, and it feels like whatever you say is going to miss the mark by miles? I'm wondering if there's a way to navigate through these waters without feeling like you're drowning alongside him. I guess all we can do is try to lend an empathetic ear, be ready when they reach out, and hope that our presence, however silent, offers some comfort. But seriously, what would you say in a situation like this?

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

I stayed silent about this for a long time. A very long time. But, apparently, the time has finally come to tell the truth. Not polished, not “neat,” but real.

These two years of my relationship were not just a difficult period for me. They were two years that broke me morally, emotionally, and psychologically. And I know that many people do not even realize just how deeply.

It all started beautifully. Truly beautifully. It was happiness, joy, teenage passion, the feeling that I was needed, loved, chosen. I believed in him. I believed in us. I believed that if a person looked at you a certain way, said certain words, promised certain things, then it was not for nothing. Back then I really did love, and I gave myself sincerely.

Then I got pregnant. And from that moment, a completely different reality began.

It was not just shock. It was fear, guilt, panic, an inner rupture.

The choice of whether to keep or get rid of the child. And at the same time, his pleading to keep the baby. His words that he would stay by my side. That he would do everything for us. That he would not leave. That he would handle it. That I would not be alone. That he would be a man, a father, a support.

I believed him.

And then reality began to completely destroy me. His broken promises, betrayals, lies, screenshots of messages, unfamiliar girls in our home, while I was in labor, when I was in my most vulnerable state and was texting him about how scared and how much pain I was in. Every new betrayal tore me to pieces, every lie was another blow to my psyche.

Financial dependence was finishing me off in its own way. When you are morally exhausted, with a child who needs constant attention, and you realize that your stability depends on a person who keeps hurting you, it is a trap. You live in constant fear and tension. The fear of his outbursts of aggression, of broken things, haunted me all the time.

Taking care of the child also became a heavy burden. Because of stress, I lost my milk at six months. I felt guilt, confusion, and despair, because I wanted to give my child everything, and I could not. That only added even more inner tension and a sense of helplessness.

My inner world was collapsing. Questions kept spinning in my head: “Why am I alive?” “Maybe it would be better if I were gone?” And these were not just sad thoughts. It was the scream of a psyche that could no longer endure it.

Self-harm became a way to survive. At first it was pulling out my hair, then a failed suicide attempt, then cutting. It was despair, a scream inside myself, an attempt to let out pain that could not find a way out. And it was a real, honest feeling that shows just how deeply broken I was.

And the worst part was that in those moments there was no one who could fully accept me. I wrote to ChatGPT. It was the only way to speak out, to pour out all the brokenness, fear, betrayal, despair, nervous breakdowns, financial dependence, fear of explosions and aggression. I wrote to it when I did not know where to put all this pain, when I wanted to simply stop the whole world and feel nothing.

Every day was a battle. Every minute was a test. I was fighting him, the fear, myself, my own emotions. I was losing peace, health, inner safety. I looked at the world through stress and a constant sense of danger.

Many times I waited, many times I forgave, many times I hoped he would change. But reality was merciless. And it was not because I was “not enough.” It was because not everything can be endured, even if you give a person everything.

Now the situation feels like it is on the verge of ending. I do not know exactly what stage the relationship is in, but I feel that the end is near. And that brings both fear and relief at the same time.

These two years taught me an unbelievable amount: about myself, about pain, about boundaries, about my own strength. I understood that even among fear, betrayals, financial dependence, stress, and self-harm, it is possible to preserve yourself. And I am holding on, because I know: I will be able to live on, even after everything that happened.

P.S.

“Teenage passion” — because it started when I was 15.

I got pregnant at 16.

I gave birth just before turning 17.

I will be 18 soon.

And the scariest thing in this story is that all of this was lived through not by a grown woman.

But by me — a child.

I have undianosed dyscalculia, and it really just overall sucks a lot. I take a lot longer to get things done in math class, and I've even gone to dislike games that everyone considers fun because I can never contribute as well as my teammates. Ever since I was about six I've kind of known that something was wrong, but every time my parents tried convincing me that I was good at math and just talking down on myself, even though I could hardly understand the concepts. it just kept getting worse as time went on, though, and now I have no idea how to bring something like that up. My math teacher has expectations for where the class should be, and I'm not there at all, if it weren't for two other people in the class then we would have way harder lessons. I've had a friend call me stupid (in a friendly joking kind of way, not at all knowing about any of this because we always joke about me being terrible at math), and even though it used to be a joke now it just hurts. I'm scared for next year because I know it's just going to get harder, and I don't think my parents are going to help get me diagnosed because they genuinely belive theres nothing wrong (I've had to have a doctor tell them I had anxiety way higher than people my age for them to belive me, which makes me think they don't trust me or just listen to me).

It's gotten to the point where I genuinely feel really dumb and stupid, even though I know I can't really help it. it also doesn't help that everything just slips out of my head, so if I do ever figure something out I can never remember and have to start all over.

so i usually leave people sentzoned on insta and dont really reply back, i noticed a really cute guy and thought ok lets text him cuz why not. he was a typical playboy and i wasnt looking for anything serious anyways so we started talking and had a thing going on. the first time we met we kinda made out and the next day he called me home and we had sex, and i usually dont do casual sex but he kind of forced me into it, i was upset the first day and prolly should have stopped talking to him but i didnt, the next day we were all fine. this kept going on for few weeks and look hes 16 and im 17 i know its problematic but what im about to tell really matters on the age. so after few weeks he told me he got into trouble and idk what happened but his phone was taken away. when he did get the time to text me he was all normal and one day he chose to come clean and told me about how he and his friend got drunk and went to a spa and his friend fucked the worker and he got hanjob. i had no words, and he was flexing about how she was doing it for 30mins and more and couldnt finish him, and somehow he thought that i would be okay with this. i obviously called him out and he said idk what to say. dude im ngl this whole thing like getting drunk and going to a spa and fucking and being sexual with the 25-30YEAR OLD WOMEN OVER THERE is just WOW. now i just realised he used me for my body hes 16 and has bodycount of bonnie blue. i regret trusting him. funniest part was he was proud of himself which just made him look really stupid infront of me because of his immaturity but he prolly didnt realise that.

Around seven years ago, my relationship with my ex, Jenna, sadly came to an end. We share two teenage children, and since I was more financially secure, Jenna proposed I take full custody following our split. I've been raising them full-time since then, with Jenna having the option of visitation. However, she seldom exercised this right. Shortly after we went our separate ways, Jenna moved on with a wealthy man from abroad, quickly becoming pregnant with his child. The man, however, was not interested in taking care of children who were not his own, leading Jenna to relocate three hours away, distancing herself further from our kids. For nearly two years, she vanished from their lives.

The wealth of Jenna’s partner was contingent on his family’s support, and after discovering her situation, they withdrew their financial backing. Complicating matters, their young child faced developmental challenges. Jenna was expecting another child when her boyfriend decided to return to his home country, leaving her alone, pregnant, jobless, and caring for their special needs son.

Last week, Jenna reached out in desperation, her circumstances dire. She and her son were living in a motel, and their financial resources were dwindling. She asked if they could stay at my lake house nearby, or alternatively, if I could provide some financial support. I declined both requests, leading to heated exchanges where she accused me of neglecting my extended "family" despite having the means to assist her. I maintained that, biologically speaking, her current predicaments do not obligate me to intervene.

In a scenario where my life was part of a reality show, the reaction from the audience could be intensely divided. Viewers might sympathize with the tough stance I’ve taken, arguing that my responsibility is primarily towards my own household and the children we share. Others might harshly critique my decision, seeing it as lacking compassion towards my ex who is clearly struggling and my indirect connection to her current children. The intensity of reality show fans could turn this domestic drama into a broader debate on responsibilities and moral obligations ex-partners owe to each other, especially when children are involved.

Now, reflecting on my story as part of an online community seeking advice or shared experiences, I’m curious to get your points of view...

So yes ive been falling in the rabbit hole and I’ve come to realize that there’s a lot more there than that meets the eye. For example let’s just take a simple theory like the P. Diddy situation how they found tunnels to Michael Jackson’s house tunnels to TI‘s house tunnels to God knows where all these underground tunnels then they found cages and all this Bill Clinton and Hillary Clinton having so many connections to you know, orphanages, and children that have been taken from their families that haven’t been fed well refugees and then you see orders of like 60,000 pizzas ordered to the White House from Obama through email messages that were leaked and you know how Pizza is like the pedophiles sign for boys or I don’t know if it’s a pedophiles sign for girls but I know like there’s signs and stuff then there’s that whole Pizza gate thing and stuff like that there’s pizza gate and they tortured these kids for adrenichrome and all of that I wanna hear you guys theories about all of this like is this like really something we’re living in like REPTILIANS? They’re talking about these ancient reptile aliens that have been among us for eons and then you get these tablets that come out the admiral tablets like they’re normalizing all of this so that if out of nowhere, these things were to just show up it would be normalized like it’s weird what’s going on and it’s kind of scary like all of this stuff has to add up to something you know and I don’t want. I know this sounds crazy. I don’t want any of you guys to think I’m crazy like this is just you know midnight thought but like is there anyone else on here that can like? Tell me like what the fuck they’re thinking about all this

celebrities wearing masks like I was watching some 80s 70s 90s movies like some of these actresses are not aging and I don’t know if they’re cloning them but there’s something going on y’all and I want to hear what you guys have to say

I have this feeling since a longer time. I can’t feel bad for other people or specifically my friends. Especially when they’re feeling down or are in a difficult situation. It’s more like hatred towards them. I hate that they get attention. I would just love for them to shut up about it or make them shut up. But that’s wrong and I know it. I still help because I hope that they get less attention when they feel better.

Why is that?

Ok, first off the religious group I will not mention by name as it is not the point of this post. However, I will say I do believe they are a cult because they recruit people, force them to give the "council" all the money they make, and by around 60 when they are old they throw them out of their housing facilities that they own. They cut people's connections with all family and friends no exceptions. If you can't make money they don't want you. They are not small I'll tell you that much. We were learning about different groups in American history. We were in about 6 small groups all discussing about the groups. When I saw the one about the "religion" that's when I said to my group they were like a cult. This group is still a thing today.

Anyway, in english class my group was discussing about the group and I said, "oh they're like a cult" then the teacher chimed in.

T: "That's a strong word"

Me: "Well that's basically what they are"

T: "how"

Me: "Well they make these cartoons that..."

T: "Well many people make cartoons that doesn't mean they are a cult"

Me: "well the cartoon...."

T: "I'm just telling you you shouldn't call them a cult and it's wrong"

Me: "ok fine"

She kept cutting me off before I could even explain my reasoning. But should I not refer to them as a "cult"? Am I an asshole for referring to a religious group as a cult? If you have any questions about the group I'm talking about I'll try to explain it in a way not to call them out. I do believe they are a cult.

Imagine if I was in a reality show and brought up this topic. Would people side with me or would they think I'm just being rude? How do you think the audience would react if I explained my reasons on camera? Would they understand or think I'm out of line?

So here I am, 23 years old, sitting on my couch at 6 AM, scrolling through my phone like the rest of the world, and I can’t help but wonder if doing some morning yoga could actually help me chill out a bit, you know? Work has been an absolute circus lately—endless deadlines, demanding bosses, and that annoying coworker who “just loves to chat” while I’m trying to concentrate! Ugh! On top of that, my home life isn't exactly a zen garden either. It’s like a tornado of chores, family drama, and oh, let’s not forget the never-ending battle with my own mental health; I don’t need to tell you how exhausting that can be. Someone once said, “When you find peace within yourself, you become the kind of person who can live at peace with others.” Is that true? Because at this point, I’d just like to be at peace without screaming at the top of my lungs. I keep hearing about how morning yoga is supposed to be this miracle cure-all for stress, but honestly, I can’t get over my own skepticism. I mean, sure, there’s something appealing about stretching out my tight muscles, especially when I’ve been hunched over my laptop for way too long—but will it really help? Every time I think about it, I picture myself in a yoga class, all zen and serene, looking like a complete novice! Have you seen how those yoga influencers contort themselves? Like, what even is that? And let’s not forget the smell of essential oils—it’s either heavenly or a total headache! I can just imagine showing up with my “I do yoga” sweatpants and completely whiffing a pose. People in the room would probably roll their eyes at me. “Girl, just breathe,” they’d probably whisper while I’m over there struggling to keep my balance. Yet, I feel like I should give it a try. Couldn’t I use a bit of that whole “namaste” vibe in my chaotic life? But then I wonder: could I actually commit to doing it regularly? I’m already 10 minutes late to everything, and adding a morning yoga routine to my schedule seems like a tall order, doesn’t it? I could see it now: me, madly trying to fit in downward dog before I rush out the door, only to be late again because I lost track of time trying to “find my center.” Lo and behold, my chaotic mornings would just get more chaotic! Would it really set a positive tone for the rest of my day, or just make me more irritable when I can’t get everything done in time? So many questions! I could just start with simple stretches at home—maybe throw on a YouTube video and pretend I know what I'm doing, right? They say even a few minutes of mindfulness can lead to better stress management; just breathe and focus, they say. But I find it hard to relax when my mind races with a thousand thoughts about what I didn’t do and what I still need to do. Like, why is life such a juggling act? Is it too much to ask for a little bit of balance? Probably, because let’s face it: my life has been more of a tightrope walk than a yoga class! I can't even tell you how often I've tried to squeeze in self-care, and yet, here I am, still feeling wound up like a string on a bow. But, as I delve more into this whole yoga idea, there's this nagging voice in my head pushing me to try something new, you know? "Step out of your comfort zone," it whispers. Maybe I really could use some calm in my mornings, even if I end up looking ridiculous and flailing about as my cat watches on, probably judging me, has anyone ever felt that? For some weird reason, I feel like I owe it to myself to at least give morning yoga a shot; who knows, it might even make me a better person at work and home. Plus, wouldn't it be awesome to actually have a chill start to the day instead of bursting out the door like a caffeinated squirrel? I'm still on the fence about it—do I really want to give it a go, or just keep watching random memes on my phone until the last second? Maybe if I push myself to get up a lil' early? I mean, the thought of being able to say I do yoga does sound kind of badass. And hey, I’m all about trying to make my chaotic life feel a little less chaotic; is it crazy to think that morning yoga might just hold the answer I've been looking for? Anyone out there make it work in their routine? I need help deciding here; should I take the plunge and roll out a mat, or keep dreaming of that blissful morning peace while I slip back into the chaos that is my reality?

I'm 21 and i lived a reverently hard life with an alcoholic father and drug addict mother, life wasn't easy but my older sister made it work. When I was 12 my oldest sister hung herself and my best friend shot herself 2 months later. i know death, and death knows me too. I've done all stages and moved past my emotions. but a few months ago, an 17 year old girl who i knew, lived with, helped her father raise her and love her was hit by a car at 5 in the morning because she rode her bike with no lights or reflectors. for a while i told her to use a light. i couldn't get her off the streets. i tried so so so fucking hard but i couldn't. so i showed her how to survive the streets. who to trust, who too watch for, what to watch for, how to watch your back without looking suspicious. she loved boxing, so me and her would practice for hours in the driveway leaving bruises on each other and laughing. right before she died i moved away 2 hours away from my home, my people, my village, everything i knew to move in with my boyfriend as i wanted out from under my father and in a life of my own. but she died. that 2 hour drive felt like 2000 years. everyone says i spoke a beautiful speech at her funeral but i barely remember it. i just remember her being so cold, telling her ill see her again one day and crying into her fathers chest [he's my uncle just not blood uncle] i came back with my boyfriend and helped move his family into a new home, i started a new job and have been struggling so so much. me and my boyfriend went through a period where we were fighting a lot. the moment things were getting better i found out he was on a fetish app talking to multiple girls and sending dick picks. he lied to my face and act like he didn't know i knew. things have finally started moving past that. but I'm stuck. i want my riley back, my fighter, my smoke buddy, my soul snatcher, my hot headed, spicy beautiful little girl back... i was only 4 years older then her but i felt like her mother. i loved her like i was her mother. i showered her when she was depressed and couldn't. i hand feed her right after and brushed her hair, dressed her and took her out. i want those days. id take seeing her severely depressed then in that casket because at least with one she's alive even if its barely. I almost got fired and on the edge of being fired. i feel like I'm not enough. i wasn't enough for my sister and best friend. i wasn't enough to keep her alive and smarter with her decisions, i wasn't enough to have him not cheat on me. I'm not enough to do good at work. I'm not enough. I'm never enough. I'm always too much or never enough. how can i move past something that turned my whole world upside down and across the galaxy. I'm so tired. and not in a "i wanna go to sleep" way but in a "see them all once again for eternity" kind of way. what do i do.......

i couldn't sleep for a year, because he left me. i still miss him sometimes. when i have a beautiful moment or day, and want to share it with him. i miss him like i miss my childhood. i won't be able to reach you, but i will remember. i hope you will be fine, i always mention you in my prayers. forgive me, my love. maybe next time

What the hell is happening in my own house?? I used to think I had it together—career, family, routine. But lately, I wake up already exhausted, and it’s not because of work or age. It’s these damn teenage kids!!! Every day is a damn psychological battle!!! Mood swings, slammed doors, sarcastic answers, zero respect for boundaries!!! And don’t get me started on screen time—why the hell am I always the bad guy for setting limits??? I try to keep calm, but my voice always ends up shaking, like my whole system’s on overload. Hormones?? Sure. But what about mine?? Am I supposed to just keep absorbing the chaos until I crack?? Is that the plan?? Because it sure feels like it.

Even basic things like dinner or chores turn into full-blown negotiations!!! I’m not their damn project manager!!! I ask for plates to be cleared, and somehow I’m triggering a “mental health episode”??? I didn’t sign up for emotional hostage situations every evening!!! And don’t give me that “gentle parenting” crap—I’m not trying to be their friend, I’m trying to keep the household running without going clinically insane!!! Do they see what they’re doing??? Or am I the only one who’s drowning in this mess??? I walk into their rooms and it smells like puberty and rebellion had a baby. I’m not even trying to fix them anymore. I’m just trying not to lose myself in the process.

So yeah, I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll snap and not come back from it. I have intrusive thoughts I don’t want. I hear my own voice and don’t recognize it. Ever feel that?? Like you’re watching yourself spiral but still expected to drive carpool and make dentist appointments??? I go through the motions like a damn automaton, but inside, I’m questioning my own stability every five minutes!!! Is this what it looks like before you lose your mind??? Or am I already halfway there??!! I don’t need a diagnosis or sympathy. I just needed to write this out before I scream at a wall or throw my phone at something. Maybe someone out there gets it. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter.

I was born male and began to transition in 2022, my partner who was also transitioning at the time began to help me after I moved in with them, (hormones and such) but a bit after I started they started to have trouble dealing with the ways I was changing (my body, mind all that good stuff) and we ended up taking a break for a bit.

We came back together but I started to forget about taking my pills and eventually I might has well have detransitioned, I tried to talk to them at one point about thinking about it again (just thinking not even planning on anything) and that came with being told that they dont like women.

My partner never told me to stop taking my pills maybe I just did it myself because of the problems it caused. They stopped theyre transition too but now im left not knowing who I am, I have horrible anxiety and depression, compulsively pick and pull my hair, I get impulsive thoughts im embarrassed to talk about, I just feel messed up.

MY STUPID "FRIEND" IS DEATH STARING ME. HE'S BEEN DEATH STARING ME ALL DAY. IT'S NOT ENOUGH THAT HE WON'T TALK TO ME HE ALSO HAS TO LOOK AT ME LIKE I KILLED HIS DOG OR SOMETHING. WHAT DID I DO. WHY IS HE DEATH STARING ME.