Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Not exactly a bridezilla story, but close :)

Recently, I got invited to a relatively small wedding, about a two-hour drive from where I live, requiring overnight stays which meant booking a hotel room. Considering the size of the wedding, about 60 people including the bridal party, I wasn't provided a plus-one option, which was totally fine by me given the circumstances.

When it came time to book my hotel room, I realized the available rooms were quite large — designed for families or couples with either multiple beds or a king-sized option. Given these circumstances, I thought it would make sense to bring my boyfriend, Tom, along. This way, we could share the driving and the cost of the room. We planned it so we'd arrive the day before the wedding, enjoy a dinner out in a new place, and he would spend the day of the wedding relaxing at the hotel while I attended the ceremony and reception.

The wedding itself was a beautiful event and went off without a hitch. After the festivities, as I was heading back to my hotel room with Sarah, the maid of honor and someone I'm much closer to than the bride, I simply knocked on the door which Tom opened. Sarah greeted him briefly and then continued on her way.

However, a few days after the event, Sarah contacted me expressing how awkward and uncomfortable my decision to bring Tom had made everyone feel. She said that having him there made it seem like he was just waiting around for the wedding to end, which was not the case. We were genuinely surprised by this feedback as it was intended to be a practical arrangement, nothing more.

Furthermore, Tom was never around the wedding venue and only met the bride and groom on a few occasions, so he neither expected nor desired to attend the wedding itself. I hadn't thought to clear bringing him since he wouldn't be participating in or attending any of the wedding events.

Looking back, I wonder how this whole situation would have played out if it were part of a reality show. Would the viewers take my side, seeing the practicality of my decision, or would they sympathize with the bridal party's perspective, viewing my actions as a faux pas? Reality shows thrive on drama, and this misunderstanding could have been blown into a major conflict, potentially putting me in the hot seat with audiences picking sides.

I haven't spoken to the bride about this as she is on her honeymoon and I prefer not to stir any potential drama. Was bringing him along such a big deal?

Sorry if I sounded too blunt or rude. Anyways, this is a bit of an extension, but I have some questions. Do you guys hate neurotypicals? Do you guys hate all weird sounds or touch or smells? If I say something rude to you on accident in the moment will you leave me and be forever angry? Do you take everything very personally? Is it okay for me to focus on your needs more than mine and always be what you want? Does your mental disability excuse what wrong things you do, because I feel that as a NT, I should tolerate such behaviors I find annoying or uncomfortable because in the end, I'm a dumb neurotypical next to a person who is from a group who's been heavily stigmatized and abused for years, so maybe me getting hurt is alright. Do you guys always hate NT people's interests? Should I mask myself for you because if autistic people mask it's not good but if neurotypicals mask it's okay because they're not mentally ill? Should I feel like I'm walking on eggshells and inflating myself from anxiety I may hurt you in horrible ways? Should I change myself so you can feel comfortable, because if you change it's bad because autistic folks masking is bad, but if I do it it's good? Do you guys hate physical touch? When you have a meltdown, do you guys want everyone out of the room, and during meltdowns do you have every right to say mean things to me? Trust me, at 13, sometimes I feel like a rude jerk, and maybe that's why I don't have friends. During meltdowns, can you guys hit or yell at me? During meltdowns can you throw objects around? During meltdowns, should I stay quiet and leave the room? And when we're together, should I always choose to stay quiet? Because I heard that selective mutism can help in these cases? I feel if an NT person gets hurt or bruised, it doesn't count as bad because we're not disabled, we're very much okay and healthy and maybe just stronger, but if it's you maybe it hurts a lot. Maybe this full question is dumb, like me.

My spouse, Michael, and I cherish a petite yet profoundly significant ritual that blooms each year since we exchanged vows. The essence of this tradition isn't elaborate but holds immense significance in my heart. Each November, specifically on the weekend preceding Thanksgiving, we embark on a serene journey to a quaint town nestled by a lake, merely an hour's drive away. This tranquil outing involves leisurely strolls, heartfelt conversations, and the selection of a unique Christmas ornament. This ornament, tenderly chosen, symbolizes the essence of our year together. It’s a modest day out, yet it profoundly enriches our festive season.

Michael recently befriended a man at his gym named Jake. Their friendship flourished quickly which I think is wonderful, as Michael often shies from forming new friendships. Jake, a hiking and gaming enthusiast, shares numerous interests with Michael, making their bond even more special.

However, a predicament arose when Jake invited Michael for a weekend getaway, coincidentally planned for the same weekend as our cherished tradition. Michael approached me somewhat reluctantly about possibly rescheduling our annual trip so he could join his friend. I was taken aback at first; the thought that he would consider altering our plans wounded me slightly. Michael argued, perhaps sensibly, that changing the date wouldn’t impose any logistical issues.

Despite understanding his point, I couldn’t mask my dismay. This tradition is our sacred communion—a token of our shared life that perhaps holds more esteem in my heart than his. On expressing this, Michael seemed both taken aback and slightly agitated, insinuating that I was making a mountain out of a molehill.

After a brief discussion, Michael agreed to maintain our planned tradition, although I could sense his disappointment, which inadvertently filled me with guilt. Now, wracked with doubt, I ponder if my insistence on maintaining our ritual, pivotal as it may seem to me, is an overindulgence on my part.

Suppose this scenario played out in a reality show setting, the audience might revel in the drama, eagerly awaiting my reaction or criticizing my insistence on tradition. The appealing appeal of reality TV often lies in observing how individuals navigate personal conflicts under the public's scrutinizing gaze. Would viewers champion my dedication to tradition, or would they perceive me as overly rigid and unsupportive of Michael’s new friendship?

Am I unreasonable for wanting our tradition to take precedence over his new friend?

man, i woke up this morning and I just definitively don't feel good.... i'm 28 for crying out loud, you'd think I'd have my shit together by now. i'm not even sure what's wrong, like, there's nothing specifically happening to cause this funk. is this just adulthood, or am i missing something crucial? seriously, how do other people keep it together so seamlessly while I'm over here struggling to get out of bed most days?

all week i've been stuck in a vicious cycle; i'm tired, but can't sleep; i'm hungry, but can't eat; and don't even get me started on working. sometimes i think to myself, "is there something bigger at play here?" maybe there's some universal energy or something screwing with me. you know that old quote, "sometimes we need a little darkness to see the stars"? it's kind of comforting, but what if it's total BS? like, aren't there stars in the daytime too? 🤔

so my attempts to remedy this have been textbook: i've tried meditating but the silence only made me more anxious. hit the gym, thinking some exercise would help; instead, I felt more exhausted than ever. someone suggested "retail therapy"—what a load of crap. spending all that money I don't even have just stressed me out more. basically, i've run out of options, and I’m starting to think my only salvation might be an alien abduction or something equally drastic. maybe a fresh start on a different planet might do the trick.

despite all this, i'm trying to stay hopeful. i mean, people always say "this too shall pass," right? but what they don't tell you is how slow the passing can be. life does suck sometimes but I guess that's part of "the journey". and if life throws me any more curveballs, I’ll just swing for the fences or whatever—because what’s the alternative? sulking in misery? nah, not my style. i'm clinging to any shred of optimism left like a lifeline—because seriously, what else can one do?

so here I am, spilling my guts online like that’s gonna fix anything. but maybe, just maybe, someone out there can relate or offer a piece of advice that's not straight out of a self-help book. have you faced similar BS and come out on the other side? don't hold out on me, share the secret—what's the meaning of life, or at least the key to feeling like a functional human being again?

I'm a teenager. When It was quarantine, I've slowly gotten depression, anxiety, and all that stuff. One day, my mother didn't come home that night with my father since they both work 8 to 5. I was worried and asked where she was. My dad said she was staying somewhere else for the night, but my worries didn't die down. I later texted my mother asking where she was and she said that she was in the sidewalk and that she was going to sleep there. I was shocked and continued to text her until 12 AM. She told me to go to sleep, so I deleted out convo with her and cried to sleep. Later on that following week, I found out she was staying over her friend's house and slept over there, because she and my father got into an argument. Fast forward a couple weeks, our pitbull named Luna got out of her cage and got loose all over the outside of our house. We had gates so she couldn't leave easily. As my parents got home from work, we found out that she chewed on my mother's slippers that were outside. My father was irritated and when I was in my room, possibly playing my games or watching tiktok, I hear the throws of slippers my dad threw to Luna. Abusing her, I heard her pained howls but i turned a blind eye. I didnt wanna end up like her. That night, I also cried to sleep. One day, my mom was suspecting she had cancer. So she went on a checkup with my father. After a couple days, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was laying in my bed when my father came up to my bed and told me 'youre always on your phone. Decrease your screen time and at least care for your mother. Your mother had cancer now and she needs all the love and care." I interpreted this on how I understood what he said. When I heard that, I was horrible. I was helpless. I wanted to help my mother but didn't know how. Right when my father left the room, I burst into tears. Slowly breaking down. (My mom is fine and healthy now. She got her chemotherapy treatment done already, and does regular check ups.). In quarantine, I'm sure it was normal that some people like me got fat and all that. I was insecure of my fat body back then, and wanted to get skinny. But then one day, my father told me something before me and my mom we're about to go out. "You look pregnant" he says with a grin. If that were a joke, why didn't I laugh? After that day, I started to starve myself and started only eating 1 meal a day. It was a couple months, after my mom found out since I was throwing up due to not eating properly. I'm well off now, at least better than before. Back to quarantine, I had this trio I was part of since elementary. But when it was quarantine, things started to change. One day we started to fight all afternoon, and let's call one of them Anna, and the other Rachel. Rachel avoided the arguments, usually the peace maker or just agreeing to some statements one did to another. Anna and I were the ones fighting. She was always with her other friends, and I was thinking that she was replacing me and rachel with her new trio. Every argument was over text because it was quarantine of course, but I mostly ended with sobbing to my plushies on my bed in the afternoon. Time passes, it's 2022. We went back to school with just me and rachel as friends. We broke ties with Anna after finding out the toxic friendship. In the first year of my freshman year of highschool, I was doing well. Enjoying being with the new classmates. I loved how joyful they were. Until one day, in second quarter. Our car's battery broke and my father was irritated and frustrated with all the money he had to spend. (We're well off also.) He was angry as well that we didn't seem to care and only cared about our own efficiency on the car. We didn't. My mother, the wife she is. She tries to help. Offering to contact the car brand company so they'll fix it. My father then broke out and said "if you thought of it, you pay for it! It's easy." I can hear the anger even if it was in text. I was in school while that happened. I was reading the texts in out family gc, holding back my tears. Afraid anyone will see. After my father sent a few more messages, my mother then broke as well. "Fix yourself, (father's name.)! We aren't the cause that car broke down, so don't blame us!' I can feel her frustration through the phone. After my father sent a few more text messages, my mother left. I thought they were going to go through a divorce. After two hours or so, my mom was added back by my big sister. My parents then deleted their messages, and my father texted me, "sorry about earlier, okay?" I ignored his message. After all this, I now have eczema, because of genes and possibly stress. I am now acidic, I cannot eat too much food that contains acids. Such as apples. I have mental problems, and I can barely understand myself. (I have not seeked a therapist for all this, as I have been hiding this from everyone. I am a minor and most probably need an adult to consult to a therapist.)

We have been married almost 30 years

I feel like I took too much too long

I have worked full time as my husband did, we raised a daughter, I did most of it, he barely changed her diaper, never woke up at night when she was little

I deal with all BS by his mother, and I was a selfish DILwhen I tried to set a boundary w her.

He has full on ADHD, when I come home after working 7 am to 5:30 pm, the house is a mess, I run like a crazy woman to tidy up the house to the level that is barely acceptable as a living environment. I obviously contribute our house purchase 50% from out joint bank account, but I can not enjoy the house because it is so cluttered, looks like a dump inside-out all the time. The yard was beautiful when we purchased the house, now it looks like a junk yard. Things are placed so randomly, if I mention about it, he would say something like he is trying to don't look at them. But he refuses to get a house keeper because “I don't want a stranger in our house” or “I don't trust those people.”

I deal with his MIL living in our backyard house, and I am 100% sure she has bipolar personality disorder but my husband try to satisfy her like a little boy try to please mother who never satisfy. She acts like a princess while she is 88yo. Just hard to watch. He sacrifices everything including his job, his health, sanity, and his family. The relationships between him, I, and our daughter are non-existing because he devote his everything to take care of his parents. We have not had family time for years.

How is this ok, I am taking way too much, feels like I am done with being a good person because everybody is taking an advantage over me

So, just to give some context I'm the same person from this one: https://iiwiars.com/family-drama/i-hate-myself-and-nothing-that-is-happening-to-me-is-helping

Things aren't going better, I try to concentrate more on the good things than the bad ones but shit still happens way too much. My dad keeps getting angry at my brother, my brother doesn't care about anything and he keeps having these outbursts if things don't go how he plans and he just says he won't do that thing anymore, my mom's tired and I still hate this place.

Some years ago I honestly thought about escaping (tiktok at that time played a part in it too), right now though I don't think that anymore, it's not because I don't want to get the hell out of here but because I just because I can't do it. If I had an option to just teleport to a better family and better place I would right now.

My dad, well from the last post I already said he's not the best, but I feel like now he's getting worse. All he does is get home from work and slouch on the couch using his phone, then saying we are the ones addicted to it when he won't even get up and get off his phone to grab the charger in the other room and instead order us to do it. because yeah, I can't say no, if I do I'll have my phone, tablet and computer blocked because at 15 I still have parental control on all of them (they can see my position, what apps I download, what sites I visit and some things are age restricted or blocked directly). I don't like it and I've tried multiple times to ask them to change it since they say they use it only to look at my position and I give them another app only for that and he says it's not my choice and that as long as they like it then there's no need to change it, he says that if I had nothing to hide then I wouldn't need to change the app. Me or my brother don't eat at dinner or eat little? it's because we had a lot of snacks, even when we haven't had any, and sometimes we're forced to still eat more even though we don't want to, otherwise everything gets blocked. For a period I had my bedroom door taken away because whenever he called me I wouldn't hear because I kept it closed and so he took it off and I didn't know how to put it back on, which is an incredible shitty thing because where's my privacy? well he said "what privacy? it's just your bedroom". this all in the span of some years, like middle school until now. I can't wear some clothes because they're 'only for carnival' (it's alright fashion, goth type of things, nothing that shows ass or boobs, just specific type of jewelry that maybe has bats and spiders or was 'Halloween -like').

Another things that makes me really uncomfortable is the hypocrisy of him. My brother (who's 13) has a female friend that he's close to, they all praise him because he could be having a girlfriend. I have a close male friend and he says he would beat up any boyfriend I'll have. that makes me super uncomfortable because, why can't I have the freedom to get a partner, why can't I just be romantically involved with someone without the fear of being found out? (I never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend and tbh sometimes I think what stops me is in a little part also because of this).

then once I went out with my best friend and her boyfriend and we went around the town in his car, he's responsible and he's had his driving licence for enough to be trusted. but when I told my dad he said to not go in the car again and if I do it again he's gonna go to him and beat him till he bleeds (obviously him still going in his car with my friend and him, just not telling my dad and when I get dropped off, always away from my house).

I cannot swear, I don't mean I can't say incredibly bad swear words, I mean that if I only say 'f*ck' and he hears it he'll get angry. I don't get why? I'm not hurting anyone, I'm not saying it to anyone, I'm not insulting anyone. but he can swear against God (I'm not religious but it's still a swear word, even worse than that) and we cannot say anything about that, he can be racist and homophobic and we can't say shit about that. the only time my brother confronted him about it (I'm way too scared to do it myself that one day he'll just snap and get real angry or get violent, especially because sometimes he threatens to beat us if we don't act good) he answered that he wasn't racist but some (words I'm not going to say) are just all criminals.

I hate this place and sometimes I want them to just get a divorce, but I get scared: what if end up with my dad? what if instead of my mom getting better, she gets worse? what will happen to us?

I just hate it.

so like I've been questioning the possibility of being trans!!! but also not. because I feel like I want to be a guy, but I feel like if I transitioned, I'd end up wanting to go back, and then go back again and again and I just don't know. And if I were biologically a guy it would be the same; want to be a girl, transition, want to go back, go back, want to transition again over and over. it's so weird and I don't understand it. It's not like being gender fluid, where it changes; it's like being both but also one or the other and also neither ALL AT THE SAME TIME ALWAYS. It's so weird and I don't have a label to stick on myself or pronouns or anything

BUT also good thing my mom said I can go to the Renaissance Faire in three weeks so maybe that'll take my mind off of my whole gender thing

imagine this scenario:

a teenager, he is a student, isolated from the world around him. he longs to connect with people, but circumstances have built walls he cannot climb. his school is far away, his family rarely interacts with neighbors, and his parents, being reserved and socially withdrawn, have little connection with society. he is not allowed to leave home without permission, nor to use social media. layer upon layer, these restrictions have shaped his solitude, turning what once felt like temporary boundaries into a permanent way of life.

deep down, he wants friends. he wants to belong. but fear holds him back, fear of choosing the wrong people, of being hurt, of not fitting in. he overthinks every possible interaction until the courage to act fades away. so, despite his longing, he rarely tries. instead, he watches life from the sidelines, silently hoping someone might notice him first.

there is, however, one thing that makes him feel less alone, zubeen garg. he has known zubeen’s voice since childhood, growing up with his songs woven into the background of his days, until that voice became something deeply familiar, almost like the sound of home. to him, zubeen isn’t just a distant celebrity but someone who feels close, his voice feels familiar, comforting, almost like part of his own family. when he listens to those songs, a quiet warmth rises within him, reminding him that he is assamese, part of a culture and a crowd that come alive together in zubeen’s music. watching people sing in unison at concerts makes him feel, even from afar, that he too belongs somewhere. and it isn’t a forced attachment, he genuinely loves the music, its emotion, honesty, and life. in a world where everything else feels cold and unreachable, zubeen garg’s voice is the one familiar sound that still makes him feel at home.

he had once had a girlfriend who seemed like she had stepped right out of his imagination. shy yet confident, cute, tall, caring, honest, loyal, and genuinely in love with him without a trace of resentment or immaturity. she was everything he thought he deserved, yet he rejected himself. how could someone like him, so flawed and insecure, ever be worthy of her? in his mind, she was perfect, and he was far from it. part of him felt blessed to have had her in his life, a glimpse of what happiness could look like, and yet the same thought made him feel unbearably unlucky. he didn’t want to make her life harder or bring his own imperfections into hers, so he quietly stepped back, no messages, no calls, no meets, but it wasn’t a breakup. he told her he would meet her again someday, when he had become the person he believed she deserved. until then, he stepped away from her life, carrying both gratitude and regret. if he becomes better, he might return; if not, he will watch from afar, silently wishing her the best.

physically, he believes himself weak, and to some extent, he’s right. he always wanted to be the kind of person who’s strong, fit, and good at sports, the version of himself he wishes he could become. but every school sports day reminds him how far he is from that image. each time he falls behind, it’s not the loss that hurts most, but the feeling of failing himself. he looks at others and wonders why he can’t be like them, fast, confident, effortless. every time he comes up short, the gap between who he is and who he wants to be feels wider, and that disappointment slowly turns into self-criticism.

no one validates him. he has no one to confide in, no one to truly understand what he feels. during social events, his insecurities rise to the surface. surrounded by others, he feels invisible, as if his presence makes no difference. even laughter and conversation around him seem to happen on a frequency he can’t tune into. in those moments, he doesn’t just feel left out; he feels erased.

he often finds himself questioning his own emotions. Are they real, or just the product of overthinking? is he being foolish, or is this the long-suppressed voice of his inner child, quietly crying for attention after years of being ignored? sometimes he wonders if the pain he feels is even valid, or if he’s imagining it all. he’s trapped in a loop of doubt, because no one has ever truly listened, and he’s never been given a chance to make sense of himself in the eyes of another.

he tells himself he deserves a normal life, as if the one he lives doesn’t count as one. constant worry consumes him: what will his future look like? he knows his current habits aren’t leading him toward his goals, becoming a doctor, earning respect, finding belonging, yet he feels powerless to change them.

he sees his dreams as distant fantasies, not possibilities. that thought terrifies him. he feels unlucky, unlucky to be so isolated, unlucky to have grown up in such circumstances, with these parents, this family, this school. and yet, beneath all that hopelessness, a faint spark remains, a small, stubborn belief that maybe, one day, life could still be different.

in his quiet moments, he isn’t just lonely, he feels forgotten by the world, as though he exists on the edges of everyone else’s story.

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hello everyone, i wanted to share a part of my life with you. i’ve tried my best to express it clearly and honestly. thank you for taking the time to read, i would truly appreciate any thoughts or comments. and if any part of this story feels relatable to you, i’d love for you to share your own story too.

I recently celebrated my high school graduation, which should have been an incredible milestone. My mother, keen on commemorating the occasion, organized a party in June. However, my mom's side of the family, particularly her relationship with her sister, is quite strained. This tension has repeatedly placed me in the awkward position of being my mom's main source of emotional support during family gatherings.

At my party, instead of enjoying the event with friends and relishing the moment, I found myself embroiled in family drama. My mom constantly pulled me aside to comment on my aunt's demeanor, alleging she seemed "jealous" or "disinterested." This not only dampened the festive spirit for me but also kept me from fully engaging with friends and other guests. The joy of my graduation was overshadowed by an air of unease that my mom projected as she fretted over possible confrontations or remarks from her sister.

Looking ahead, another family function is on the horizon, and my mom has already set the expectation for me to be her emotional pillar once more. She reminded me, "You know how these things go, I need you there." This time, however, I decided to stand my ground. I expressed my unwillingness to partake in the ongoing drama between her and her sister, emphasizing my desire to enjoy such events without being caught in their longstanding feud. This did not sit well with her, and she accused me of being selfish and ungrateful, especially after the graduation party she hosted—which, ironically, she spoiled with her behavior.

Now, we're not really speaking, and to complicate matters, my aunt texted to advise me to be more lenient with my mom due to her emotional struggles. While I understand the complexities of their relationship and my mom's feelings, I am frustrated and exhausted from being placed consistently in the middle of their issues.

If my life were part of a reality show, viewers might be divided. Some might sympathize with my plight of being thrust into adult conflicts, while others might argue that familial loyalty should prevail, compelling me to support my mom despite the personal toll it could take. It's curious to consider where public opinion would lean and whether the heightened visibility would amplify the family drama or encourage quicker resolutions.

Am I wrong for refusing to serve as my mom's support in these family dynamics, despite her feeling abandoned by me, or is it reasonable to protect my own emotional well-being during such gatherings?

I’ve been more “sad” recently, to the point people are noticing and calling me out for it.

Honestly it’s super fucking embarrassing hearing your extra help teacher asking, “Is everything alright? You look like something bad happened??”. And then your friends tell you you’re a “weird kid” and “your other friends think you’re weird” and those are the same people you’ve helped get real mental help…?

I don’t believe im a bad person..? I’m nice- I try to be positive in the worst of the times, but now I’m just free falling. And nobody’s here to catch me, like how I did for others. No one truly cares for me,..? And honestly it’s… fucking awful. It’s little things piling on top of each other. “You got 2 points off your quiz, maybe you should study more.” Okay that’s fair. “You got 85/100 what a joke.” It’s not even bad,..? I’m sorry you’re spoiled rotten, all those fancy fucking tutors and teachers outside of school, the way you go out to eat every week while I’m stuck eating the scraps. It’s not even that I’m fully mad about grades, it’s something deeper, NOT BEING GOOD ENOUGH.

But one thing I’m so fucking mad and upset with myself with is that I ruined my school poem, I have such deep feelings I can’t get them out. I’ll attach it next.

Trees zipped by,

And rocks flung off the tracks

An unmistakable rhythm of a heart in my grasp,

With torn leather beneath me,

Shrieking breaks,

And murmurs.

My stomach was churning with anticipation,

And my heart stuck in my throat.

I crinkled the wrapper between my thumb and forefinger,

Soothing my frayed nerves,

Waiting to leave for the aquarium for the first time.

Excitement.

Excitement,

This is my excitement.

And it’s paranoia,

I overthink every little thing.

“What if I hate the fish? What if I get off at the wrong stop? What if-”

My thoughts were swirling together like debris in a tornado.

“This is supposed to be relaxing-”, I thought to myself,

The conductor cut off my thoughts with

his booming voice,

“Next stop, (blank) Station.”

I know I could’ve done better. I could’ve fucking made it perfect, but I would’ve crumbled if I did. And this isn’t just about fish, it’s about whether or not I’ll be able to be good. Good enough to be chosen. God this is so stupid.. this was really pointless but what I mean is that I’m so frustrated and sick of everything, the repeated failure.

(Context im a 13 y/o girl in 8th grade if it does anything.)

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 fucking give up bro, everyday im called ugly, when i moved away from a shit country i lived in where ig ot choked and heavily physically bullied and r@ped i thought i escaped, i didn't. verbal bullying, i hate myself. got myself a ED cause of thos fuckers. i even stopped doing SH n now its started again, i got r@ped again of course. fuck this fucking bullshit. i know im ugly, i know im dumb. those fucking narcissists. i genuilny give up. im failing everything, my dads sick, my moms depressed and hates me, same w my dad, my friends hate me and i try to be what they want me to be, and i do that but still they hate me. im brown, im the odd one out, imt he ugliest. god i hate ts. what i've been through. i thought if ucking escaped but no god just hates me doesnt he. whatever. bye. i havent slept i nfucking days. iahte insomnia. i hate people.

man, life can really throw you a curveball sometimes. i'm 41, a guy who's been through a lot, but this? this takes the cake. just found out my wife’s been playing the field. yep, she had the ol’ side dish while i was none the wiser. and now? now she’s saying it was a mistake, that she wants to cut it out and make things right with me. she says she loves me and wants to spend forever with me. like, what am I supposed to do with that?! it’s hard to swallow, you know?

she claims she’s all ready to ditch her little joyride and focus on us, make things all sunshine and rainbows again. 🤷‍♂️ but, like, do I just go along with it? is it really as easy as forgive and forget or am i just fooling myself here? i'm over here like, yeah, it’s great you wanna do right by me, but does that mean i’m supposed to just forget the whole shebang? i mean, are we just gonna snap our fingers and poof, history’s rewritten? seems too good to be true, doesn’t it? like, who’s got the magic wand in this scenario? not me, that’s for sure. 🙄

let’s be real, trusting someone after they’ve done the dirty isn’t just an automatic function. no magic switch to flip. 🕵️‍♂️ it’s like i’m caught in this cycle of disbelief, anger, and just plain confusion. and, honestly, i'm a little torn on whether to think she’s genuinely sorry or if she's just scared of being alone. this whole thing's bonkers, right? and if i decide to roll with the punches, what happens next? is there some secret sauce i’m missing out on? i’m 41, not 21, i've pit stops in life, know what i mean?

someone tell me, is forgiving the same as forgetting? can you really split them apart like some happy divorce, leaving one behind while the other seamlessly takes over? ❤️ someone over here probably just thinks i’m overthinking it, but isn’t that part of the gig when you get burned? it’s not like you accidentally spill coffee on your shirt and brush it off. it's deeper than that. but here we are, with her wanting a reset and me caught between two minds. what would you do? what’s the next move when the love of your life drops a bomb this big?

so, there it is. the million-dollar question. do i forgive and forget, slap a bandaid on it and move on? or am i setting myself up for a rerun of heartache? does loyalty outweigh mistakes? it’s not a black-and-white scenario, folks. 😤 there’s a lotta gray zones up in here, and i’m just trying to find my way without turning into an emotional wreck. her words are nice and all, but where’s the guarantee? i mean, do guarantees even exist here or is this all just a gamble? i guess time will tell, huh? but in the meantime, i'm just here, weighing my options, trying not to lose my mind.

Originally from the Midwest and now residing in the heart of Georgia, my demeanor starkly contrasts with the genteel mannerisms usually found in the South. While I hail from a region where forthrightness is common, it’s not the cordial type often seen in those with Canadian heritage—it’s more of a blunt, straightforward attitude that doesn’t always prioritize politeness. Since relocating, though, I've learned to adjust somewhat and can often manage a stern yet non-hostile smile in situations that call for it.

I recall a day when my friend and I decided to dine at a local eatery, which was experiencing an unusually slow afternoon. Being one of just four occupied tables with a full team of staff on hand, it seemed unreasonable when our simple order of two sandwiches took an agonizing 45 minutes. When the food arrived, it was cold, soggy, and bland, a clear sign of underwhelming effort in the kitchen. Despite our disappointment, I wasn’t inclined to send the food back as it seemed futile. I merely wished to settle the bill for our unsatisfactory meal and leave.

Soon, our waitress checked in to ask if everything was satisfactory with our meal. With my firm but polite grin, I confessed, "No, it really kind of sucked. Could I get the check, please?" She appeared slightly disconcerted and scurried off to fetch the manager despite my protests. My friend, meanwhile, was mortified by the unfolding events, seemingly embarrassed by my forwardness.

When the manager approached us to inquire further, I reiterated my concerns about the meal, maintaining composure and civility throughout the interaction. He dismissively offered to waive the charges, but I declined, aiming not to sour our relationship with a restaurant we frequented. My friend later questioned why I voiced my dissatisfaction if I didn’t want compensation, to which I responded, "Because they asked." He often reminds me not to stir trouble anecdotally referring to me as 'Karen.'

Another incident that might shed more light on my character involved a situation at a party where a guest had blocked my car. Rather than apologise for requesting he move it, I simply asked straightforwardly. This too, didn’t sit well with my friend, who felt it was necessary to cite as further proof of my supposed 'Karenness.'

Would the dynamics be different if this happened on a reality television show? With cameras rolling, my forthrightness could either be portrayed as refreshing honesty or as unnecessarily harsh, depending on the viewer's perspective. Would the audience applaud the candidness or criticize the lack of softening typical Southern charm? Reality shows thrive on conflict and character, and personalities like mine are often polarizing, sparking debates amongst viewers on social decency versus authenticity.

Am I truly the antagonist for embracing bluntness in a culture that veils its criticisms in sweet tea and smiles? Am I a "Karen" in this story?