Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

in today's day and age, establishing boundaries in a dating relationship has become quite the tightrope walk. amidst all the love and affection, it is crucial to carve out one's personal space and respect the boundaries of a partner. this is where the art of communication and negotiation skills come into play. it is no secret that digital communication, often through text messages and social media, tends to create a murky territory where intentions and emotions can be misunderstood. have you ever found yourself wondering if you're texting too much or sharing too little on social media? on one hand, there is a desire to be transparent and open with one's significant other, and on the other, maintain one's individuality and not become too enmeshed. the perfect balance, it would seem, is elusive.

balancing the demands of a relationship alongside personal autonomy becomes a delicate feat, perhaps comparable to walking a tightrope. couples often find themselves walking on thin ice when deciphering what's acceptable in their dynamic and what isn't. the tricky part is that every couple's boundaries are unique and ever-evolving. is there a "one-size-fits-all" guideline for establishing boundaries without sounding like a control freak? probably not. folks sometimes err on the side of being overly permissive or, alternately, excessively restrictive. it's a challenging scenario where neither choice seems optimal, and each pair must engage in frank discussions to devise their own boundaries. one might ponder if this incessant negotiation can wear a relationship thin, leaving partners feeling weary and disconnected if mishandled.

so, do boundaries make or break the authenticity of a relationship? it's a thought that resonates with many people out there navigating through the minefield called dating. every relationship, distinguished by its unique dynamic, defines its parameters of engagement. how often can one text their partner without coming off as clingy? when should they meet in person without imposing? these questions linger in the minds of those embroiled in a search for love or companionship. are we guilty of overanalyzing every interaction and turning relationship etiquettes into a strategic game? perhaps. however, the outcome is simple: mutual understanding and respect lie at the heart of lasting relationships. but how one goes about establishing these boundaries, free from excessive scrutiny or judgment, is the real art.

When you have a lot to say but the people you call closest to you do not try to understand you, your soul and body give you some warnings. I've never been a "I can't live without music, I can't do anything without music" person.I always felt strange because there were so many people like this around me, but I realized that I also have a different connection with music.I have a long-standing relationship with someone who I am certain will be my future wife.(a whole 3 years) Maybe I deceived myself, maybe I ignored all of this just because I loved him so much.He doesn't trust me. Yes, I can't believe it either and I don't want to accept this fact, but he doesn't trust me.He repeatedly questions my every action, does not want me to have any contact with the opposite sex, and demands screenshots of all my conversations with my girlfriend. So what does this have to do with music?

"Come on, let's give up without forcing anything. You are the sane man, I am the tired man.

.

.

We're aiming high again

Life is passing us by, step by step

I've had enough, let me be

Let's find a place, far from the world"

I realized I was saying these words to myself even though I hadn't listened to this song for a very long time.Those words that came to my mind out of the blue after I noticed my boyfriend's behavior..We've certainly gone through some tough times in our relationship, but we've never experienced any insecurity. While I trusted him with my whole body and soul, I also believed he trusted me with his whole body and soul. I'm so confused. If you've read this far, thank you, but no one will likely respond to my post. At least I've poured out my heart.

Alright, so here's the deal: I'm 19, NEVER dated a girl, and now that I'm trying to get my feet wet in the dating pool, I'm hitting this wall. Dating apps are scary, man. Everyone's out there already got their game going while I don't even know where to start. Do you just slide into a girl's inbox with lame jokes? Sounds risky as hell.

I'm wrecking my brain thinking about icebreaker questions. What's too personal? What's boring? Like hey, sure I could ask her favorite color but then what? My friend told me it's all about memorable first impressions; she's supposed to instantly remember you're different from ten others asking dumb stuff.

Last week I tried being funny and asked about pineapple on pizza... she didn’t reply back... 😶 Now I’m replaying everything trying not to come across clingy, which I know ain't attractive. But seriously why do people assume every guy knows how this goes without ever having practiced?

When my buddy first went out with his now-girlfriend he said confidence was key because girls read into that like hawks spotting juicy prey miles away. Makes sense until you're standing there actually croaking 'cause nerves hit hard! What works though is genuine curiosity; someone mentioned quirky random things like 'worst job ever' or 'celebrity crush growing up.' Nerdy yes awkward much maybe depends how it lands!

Anyway feel free send those savior tips my way peeps really need some wizardry here breaking the ice ✌️ Thanks!

Yesterday, I ventured out to a Vietnamese eatery and decided to order a bowl of the traditional noodle dish “Pho”. I made a point to ask the staff to skip the spring onions since I really can't stand them - it’s not an allergy, I just dislike their flavor intensely. When I was younger, around the age of 10, my mother made numerous attempts to get me accustomed to eating spring onions because she didn't want me to be fussy with food. Unfortunately, each attempt ended with me feeling sick.

However, despite my specific request, my dish arrived dotted with spring onions. This was not the first time this issue occurred at this restaurant; last time I ended up picking the onions out by myself. After that experience, the noodles were too soggy from soaking up the broth and the overall flavor was compromised. This time around, I opted to not repeat the ordeal. I politely called over the server, explained the situation and handed back my bowl to have it corrected. The server was understanding and took it back to the kitchen, asking me to patiently wait for a corrected bowl.

In contrast, my sister immediately voiced her frustration, pointing out my fussiness especially since the restaurant was quite busy. She argued that I should have just dealt with the unwanted onions rather than causing additional trouble and potentially wasting food. Her comments certainly made the remainder of the meal uncomfortable.

Reflecting on the situation, I can't help but wonder if maybe I did overreact slightly, especially since I had been having a really tough week and might not have been in the best state of mind. However, I'd genuinely appreciate others' thoughts on this. Was I really being unreasonable?

Imagine if this incident had taken place on a reality TV show, with cameras capturing every moment and audiences tuning in from their homes. The tension and drama would certainly be heightened. Viewers might sympathize with my aversion to onions or they might align with my sister, viewing me as overly particular or disruptive. It's interesting to ponder whether public opinion would sway in my favor or if I'd be criticized for my insistence on removing a simple ingredient.

so here's the thing, i'm 34 and just found out my partner cheated on me, which, as you can imagine, is kind of like being hit by a psychological freight train...

one moment you're cruising along, thinking your relationship's snug and secure, and the next, boom, everything you thought you knew is flipped on its head. now, i'm trying to figure out how to stop overthinking all of this. is that even possible? i mean, how do you shut off your brain when it's on a mental hamster wheel of betrayal and doubt? the byproducts of this whole ordeal are the constant reruns of past interactions, analyzing every look, word, and action, wondering if things were ever real or just some cruel joke. it sneaks into your thought patterns like malware, disrupting your everyday operations, making simple tasks feel like defusing a bomb. questions like, was it something i did? was there a sign i missed? keep me glued to this self-analysis, where i'm both the therapist and the patient. efficiently unpacking these instances seems rational, yet it feels emotionally exhausting. this brings me to strategies, like cognitive reframing or maybe just trying to distract myself with hobbies, but is that enough? maintaining emotional equilibrium feels like trying to balance on a tightrope with your eyes closed. it’s vital to test emotional boundaries, acknowledge the feelings, but decide not to let what transpired dominate every thought or decision. letting go is something people throw around like confetti, decorating conversations as if it's an easy step, but those who've been there know it's no picnic. trust is a delicate ecosystem and once disrupted, rebuilding feels daunting. but can this process of navigating post-betrayal emotions ultimately lead to personal growth? or does it just leave you with emotional scar tissue? strategizing how to restore or even redefine psychological self-reliance amidst this emotional upheaval is essential. sometimes i catch myself thinking if forgiveness happens naturally, or should it be a deliberate choice, like signing a mental peace treaty? this journey is a personal labyrinth, unique to each individual, yet relatable on a universal level. what's the protocol? allow some grief, sprinkle in a dash of self-care, and perhaps a generous dollop of patience, right? navigating through this emotional multi-layer shouldn’t be a solo expedition. it hit me that seeking seasoned guides like therapists can dissect complex post-cheating neurology into manageable parts. having a non-judgmental space to unload cognitive debris may not erase the past, but it might clarify the present. it's incredible how interconnected emotions and intertwined experiences are; yet there's hope in slowly disentangling them without making them the defining narrative. maybe resilience can sprout from this ordeal, or maybe not. what do you think? through it all, maintaining a nuanced view on relationships, understanding their imperfections, enterprises, and sometimes failures, might just be the grounding element needed in this intricate chaos. is there a shortfall in just living and letting each day unravel? 🍀

One of my dearest lifelong friends, Julia, is scheduled to tie the knot next week. At 30 years old, Julia is quite reserved and struggles with ADHD, which has made her quite reliant on external opinions from her mom, future mother-in-law, and her sisters for wedding-related decisions. Despite this, she has occasionally sought my advice, and I've been more than willing to share my thoughts when asked.

Life on my end has been tremendously challenging over the past six months. My father had a lengthy hospitalization, my mother is recuperating from a stroke, my husband's mother experienced a heart attack, and my father-in-law’s house was seized by the bank. On top of all that, my job has been extremely demanding, I’m managing life with a toddler, and I recently received a cancer diagnosis. Julia has been kept in the loop about these developments, so none of this would come as a surprise to her.

A couple of months back, Julia asked for my help in planning her honeymoon. I invested a great deal of time, preparing a budget-friendly, tailored itinerary and even researched flight deals for her. However, with barely a word of appreciation, she followed her mom’s recommendation instead and booked a much pricier package through Costco. Additionally, she chose an expensive hair salon for our styling and unilaterally decided that we would bear the costs. For her out-of-town bachelorette party at the family cabin, although the lodging was covered, the expenses for food, travel, and drinks quickly added up. She also informed me I would be staying with her in a hotel the night before the wedding without asking if it was convenient for me, considering my husband’s difficulty in juggling work and childcare.

Moreover, interactions such as requesting her future sister-in-law's contact information for the bridal shower invites, or providing input on her nail choices, have been met with snippiness. Throughout this, she hasn’t once expressed her gratitude.

During the bachelorette party, I confided my frustrations to her sister, a mutual friend, who unintentionally passed the information along to their mother, and eventually, it got back to Julia. I acknowledged it was wrong of me to not discuss it directly with her. When confronted, Julia retorted, highlighting the pressure of wedding planning—most of which is financially covered by her parents. She criticized me for being ungrateful, ignoring the multitude of critical issues I am contending with simultaneously. I replied that while I do appreciate her, she must recognize that my life doesn’t revolve solely around her wedding. Her response was to label me the ungrateful one.

Is it wrong to speak up about these feelings? According to her, it seems so.

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show. The heightened emotions and frank confrontations typical in such settings could dramatically amplify the tension. Viewers might find themselves split; some might empathize deeply with the pressures of friendship against personal hardships, while others might criticize the airing of personal grievances amid what’s expected to be a celebratory time. The drama would certainly be palpable, possibly sparking lively debates among viewers about the boundaries of friendship and personal struggles.

Was I Too Harsh on Bride Regarding Wedding Costs?

I wanna try embroidery🧵🪡. It looks like a very beautiful and delicate art form🤩!! But... I work better via in-person lessons. And Las Vegas doesn't seem to have any classes😭!! I've looked through Michaels... Local websites... And even asked my cousin, "The Hobbies Queen" for help. No luck🥲! I'm not giving up... But with the way things are going... I might just have to rely on buying the materials and watching a You Tube video about it😮‍💨. Nothing wrong with that in general. It's just easier for me to learn in-person. Wish me luck trying to find an embroidery class in Las Vegas☺️🙏🏻✨🍀!

So, like, here I am at 29 years old, and I keep finding myself tangled in this weird little internal debate: is it okay to provide yourself some self pleasure? I mean, let’s be real here. Growing up, I was always fed a bunch of moralistic nonsense about how it's a sin or whatever, which kinda makes you feel like you’re engaging in something super dirty when you think about it. On the flip side, everyone talks about self care and how important it is to know your body. It’s confusing! Like, are we supposed to feel guilty about this, or is it totally normal? Sometimes I just want to scream “HELLO, it’s 2025! Can we talk about this?!”

I’ll admit, I’ve dabbled in self pleasure a few times, and initially, it felt like I was doing something wrong. Guilt struck harder than the time I "accidentally" ate my roommate's leftover pizza. You know how everyone says, "You gotta love yourself before you can love someone else"? Well, I always thought that was just some cute line to put on mugs and tote bags. But honestly, there's a part of me that's starting to think they might be onto something. Like, if I never explore my own body, how am I supposed to know what I like when I'm with someone else? It's just logical, right? But then, it creeps in again—the feeling that, in some way, I’m “less than” because I’m alone while I do it.

I also have friends who share their own journeys with it, and their experiences are always eye-opening. One of my friends, let’s call her Sarah, swears by it. She told me how much it has boosted her confidence in her body and her sexuality. It’s hard not to feel a bit jealous because she seems so liberated and carefree; I often wonder what it would feel like to just let go of those thoughts that constantly run through my mind. On one hand, it’s like she’s so in touch with herself that it’s inspiring, but on the other, it makes me feel kinda pressured to be as comfortable as she is. So, am I supposed to just jump in and “get my groove on”? Do people even use that expression anymore? 😂 Sometimes I feel old-fashioned when thinking about something that's so modern!

Still, I find myself hesitating every time I think about giving it another go. What if I’m just doing it “wrong”? I mean, how do you even know if you’ve done it right? There’s so much information online about techniques, toys, and all that jazz. Part of me is super curious, while the other part is just doubting if this is something I should be delving into. Do I really need that, or can I just figure stuff out with a partner later on? I read this article that argued, “Self-pleasure is like exploring a new city by yourself before taking someone else along for the ride,” which sounded really poetic, but come on; does anyone actually take that to heart?

In the end, I'm left wondering if I should explore self pleasure to gain that confidence and comfort with my own body or just leave it as a taboo subject. I’m sitting at this crossroads of curiosity and doubt, and I can’t help but ask: Is it truly just a natural part of being human, or is it more complicated than it should be? Should I embrace it like my friend Sarah, or shy away and stick to what I know? The thoughts are cluttering my mind, and I really think I need to talk to someone about it—anyone out there relate? I guess what I'm trying to say is; how do you work through this weird mix of feelings regarding self pleasure?

My sister recently had a baby, and I’m genuinely excited for her. However, she decided to name her new baby boy Bark. Yes, Bark, like the sound a dog makes. Initially, I thought it was a playful joke and couldn’t help but burst out laughing. It turns out, she was completely serious.

When she noticed my reaction, she asked what was so funny. I explained that the name resembled a canine’s bark, a bit like "Bark bark?" I expected her to laugh it off, too, but to my surprise, she became upset. Apparently, I had touched a nerve.

She explained that the name was significant to both her and her husband. They had chosen the name Bark because it's the name of a beloved character from a rather niche video game they both adore. I did my best to be understanding and clarified that they should choose whatever name they feel is right, but I couldn’t help but express my concern about how others might perceive it, especially as he grows and starts school.

Since our conversation, she has stopped responding to my messages and calls. Even my mom thinks I should have just kept my thoughts to myself. Is it really just me who sees potential issues with the name Bark?

I certainly didn’t intend to upset anyone, especially not about something as important as a child’s name. However, the name "Bark"? It’s hard not to imagine some challenging scenarios he might face because of it. I wonder if my sister is perhaps being slightly overreactive, or if I’m truly the one at fault here.

Imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show—cameras capturing every grimace and uncomfortable silence. The viewers would probably be split; some might applaud my frankness while others could see me as insensitive. Reality TV thrives on these clashes, but experiencing it firsthand really makes you ponder about the weight of words and the complexities of family dynamics.

Ultimately, is maintaining family harmony more important than voicing concerns about potential teasing a child might endure? It’s a tough call to make, even if it made for engaging television.

What would be your reaction if someone named their child Bark?

I'm with this girl. I love her, she loves me, no doubt. We're both girls, btw. But sometimes, I feel a little desperate. I do my best to please her. Making the best choices for her, making her happy.

Doing her kinks, notably. I don't force myself, but that's mainly because she likes that and make her happy. But I don't know why, I'm always under the impression that something goes wrong when I want something, want to do something my way. It doesn't work, or doesn't happen. Must be my fault, I guess. And yet... yesterday we did something that should've lead to a big climax for me. That was something like sexting, online. There is some times when I can write her long wall of texts to make her happy. And at this moment, I realized she was doing something else, was playing to something while writing to me, with long pauses between our messages, while I was waiting for her, while I was thinking we were sharing an intimate moment. It made me so sad. She swore to pay more attention to my self-wellness. I'm ashamed to say I don't fully believe it.

There's so many times when I don't feel considerate enough... But i'm certain she loves me as much as I love her, that she does her best, and she has a lot of things to do. It's not always easy to be with me. But... can't help but being sad, not confident. Not self confident. I'm afraid. I don't know what to do. We don't want to leave each other.

Wish you the best everyone, have a nice day, thanks for reading, it helps letting out some steam.

Bye !

I’ve moved all my life never in one house for long due to one parent. So I’ve never made relationships, either friend or love. Every time I do a few week later I move again. This parent always asked, “No girlfriend yet”, “Why don’t you go out with friends” and other of the sort. My answers were always “No” and “They are online”. I started online school a year or two before Covid as I was going to help take care of a family member but they never moved in, and with my constant move I decided to stay online, Covid didn’t help and I never had a high school life, prom or any of that. I did college for a year online as well but that’s because of something else in a bit.

This parent suggested maybe I join the military, so I did, I enlisted in the Army. I spent a year and some change months clearing my medical and prepping. A few months before I was cleared I met my first and only girlfriend through a milsim we were part of. That’s again, for later. But I signed my life away as a 68W Combat Medical Specialist with a 4k bonus and was extremely lucky to choose a first duty station. South Korea, I never made it but woulda been great. So I ship to FT Sill OK for BCT and train. I made it a few weeks before my legs gave and I couldn’t stand. I went to the medical center and doctors and after a battery of tests and imaging, I stress fractured nearly every bone from my hips (inside and outer) to my feet, grade 1-4, I also ripped many of my muscles in my legs, and had something called Rhabdo-Myolosis. On top of that I was diagnosed with Osteoporosis and told I was of no use to the Army. I was placed on confinement to quarters for 72 hours twice while they were doing all the testing spanning to weeks. Terrible, I couldn’t lay on the bed so I sat on the concrete floor, cold, for hours and hours only able to go outside for meals. Watching my battle buddy’s come in for brief time trying to get info from them. What are you doing? It’s it tough? How are you? But it was in vein. White walls hum of the ac, occasional drill coming into to check lockers and throw something. Before I was discharged I was placed in a medical hold unit, C95 Adj Battalion. Basically for people really hurt and can’t stay at their training battery. I would say this was the start of my decent into depression and honestly lunacy. It was only 50 days in there but they were ever long. White brick walls, no windows, in crutches and medical boots like my 72 hour holds, A tv that was always off because of punishment. It was a prison, insane asylum and hospital in one room. Phone maybe 2 times a week but never enough to tell my family what’s happening. On call of hey I’m doing great I’m feeling strong, then I basically shattered my legs and I don’t know what’s happening, to finally, I’m useless and I will never be the same again. I went mad there, I’m not okay now either, I can’t be closed in, I need to see outside, and the bricks, ohh the bricks. If I ever see them I absolutely lose it inside. That was it, from I’m going to be a soldier and prove I’m worthy and have amazing dad lore for her and our future kids to, dang, I’ve lost my dream job. But I was going home to my partner.

My partner and I, met on a milsim for a game. We were extreme long distance being across the ocean but we made it work. It started 3 months before I shipped to BCT. And she stayed all through my training. I thought a few times I’d get Dear John’d but I was lucky. Nope. 2 weeks after I got home she got shallow, and we never played a game together even though that’s literally how we met and played daily before I left. So on the end of week 3 I said I k ow you want this to end. Just tell me so I hear it from you. She admitted she wanted it to end and in short I agreed to her leaving. She said she will stay till I get my help from the VA. I said no, I don’t want to force you to stay, and it would take years. That was it. 7 months gone. I really felt I lost it all then. My core dreams. I had my dream career, health and woman. Then in 3 months all was gone.

A few months later the same week I had plans to visit her country and her, I had to put my dog down. I was done at that point. Everything I had.

I continued seeing mental health services at the VA and long story short I was put in an inpatient psychiatric hospital. I met someone there and decided to give each other a chance. I had my first date ever, and had my first kiss ever. Finally feeling the human connection I had craved for years. But I shoulda known better. Nothing works for me. That night I cried tears of joy, someone cares about me again, the physicality of humanity is perfect, she cried to, but cause she still loved her ex. Told me a few days later. And after many talks, I found, she used me, the pictures we took, the date, everything was to get him to talk to her again. I said I can’t continue talking to you after that. I may crave that connection more now but not at the cost of fighting another guy for someone and being used to get to him. Just. No.

So now I’m back at square one. Alone. I don’t have a job because my health limits work and no one will hire with my conditions. Back to being online and trying to make it through the day.

I've been struggling with my mental health for a long time and despite this I've always tried to keep the most positive outlook I could, but recently I've felt as if that wasn't possible. I've always been weird and avoidant of people due to paranoia, anxiety, OCD, autism symptoms and emotional inconsistency which has made it difficult to maintain relationships. Suffice to say, I've gotten along with people to the point that I could show them an empty side of myself that didn't care whether he was hurt or not, but I feel like now that's the only part of me who can function with others. I like that part of me, and I feel like I'm okay as long as I trust him to take care of things, but I don't know how I'm supposed to live my own life.

I've always had a lot of things that I'd been passionate about but those things like drawing, watching anime, learning languages, learning history and pretty much everything except for math doesn't really have a place in my life anymore since I've started college. I can still enjoy my hobbies but I feel like as a 19 year old male, watching trashy shoujo anime and liking moe stuff is kinda weird. Having obsessions feels like something to be ashamed of as well and every time I get into something I feel like I'm always going to be stereotyped for it. Apart from that, my fascinations with dark things like gore and pain are obviously things I'll have to keep hidden. I've basically abandoned the notion of someone who'd be able to save me or be there for me because I know I just get too attached and mess things up in relationships like that.

I always had the notion that everyone else was in the wrong for making me feel like I had to hide, but now I think I'm at the point where I'm accepting that I don't belong anywhere. I don't want to change and I don't want to die but I can't live in society the way it is being the way I am. I used to want to change the world, but now I feel like someone like me, with all my issues would just make it worse.

Living like this, I feel like I'm slowly disappearing and like I'm giving in. In some ways it feels like losing the parts of myself that make me who I am is just a matter of course, it doesn't matter to me anymore because it's something I should have accepted a long time ago, but if I could I wish I didn't have to change to live.

I met him when I was 11, and he was too. We had a little childhood romance and started "dating" when we were 13. He helped me get through my parents’ divorce, and I helped him with his own family issues... we really liked each other. We were each other’s first love, it was sweet, it was innocent. I felt at home with him. When we hit six months together, things were already falling apart, and I broke up with him because I was going to move to another city mid-year. He seemed to take it well, or at least that’s what I thought. We talked bad about each other afterwards, like teenagers do, of course.On my last day in that city, we were leaving school when he saw me from a distance, gave me a small wave… and cried. I cried too. But neither of us said anything or walked up to each other.After I moved, I sent him a text message saying EVERYTHING I felt. He responded and said he felt the same, but that it wouldn’t work because of the distance and because our story had ended. We still talked sometimes...Then in November, he came to my new city for a karate tournament. Our moms were very close, so he stayed at my house. When I saw him again, it felt like we were still together. I knew I was still crazy about him. At first, we were super shy around each other, but we eventually opened up. He had changed a lot, and so had I. That night, we sat on a couch downstairs in my building and talked for hours. We kissed and made promises we couldn’t keep. He slept in my room, and I slept in my mom’s. But we kept messaging each other all night. It was strange to think that he was here, in my house, in my room. At around 2 a.m., I went into my room and sat by the bed. We talked, laughed, and remembered everything. I took so many pictures of us. At 6 a.m., he left, and I cried so much in the lobby of my building. My love was leaving. From that moment on, the song "The Only Exception" became ours.We tried to keep in touch, but eventually he told me to move on with my life.In January, I went back to my hometown and we went to the mall, just as friends. I really liked it… I had written him a letter, but never gave it to him. I went to his house, and we ended up making out. I didn’t want to leave. The next day, I was already going back to my city.So we spent the whole afternoon watching series and just enjoying each other’s company. I left, and this time ,didn’t cry.We tried a long-distance thing again, but it ended when I found out he was dating a girl from his class, one of his friends told me. It felt like my world collapsed.He was different, you know? He could even understand my silence. I really loved him.Now, I just know that he’s doing some questionable things and that he’s dating another girl.Of course, I’ve had other crushes… but I always compared them to that sweet boy who once existed.I read the letter I had written to him today and realized how naive I was…I miss the boy I was once madly in love with.I really want to send a message, but sometimes not sending is better than being rejected.I just wish he knew… that once, it was him.

I don’t know why, but everything I do is wrong for some reason. If i unintentionally do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, move wrong, I get yelled at.

Only a few days ago, I had a few things lying around. I didn’t have to time to clean yet, I’ve been busy with school and work. Ofcourse, I got hit. It doesn’t hurt but it’s scary. Everytime I hear them yelling, I’m scared that they’ll come up to me and hit me, even if I did nothing wrong. I just can’t help but freeze or even flinch when they raise their hand at me yet they still wonder why I refuse to hug them anymore, like to be near anyone or for others to be in my space.

I often prefer to be at school rather than at home. I dread going home, I like it at school. I’ve recently gotten a really good review on my behavior. They told me I was an outstanding student. I liked it. My parents don’t ever tell me that because im not good enough to them and i know it.

Sometimes, i wonder if the reason why i hate personal touch within my family is something that I struggle with mentally, but don’t know about yet. I’m just really conflicted. I honestly can’t wait for the day I turn eighteen. Only a year to go. I really want to move out as soon as I can.

Why can't I cry anymore? It's weird, you know? I'm 23, and I remember a time when tears came so easily. Watching a sad movie or hearing someone's heartbreak used to make me tear up like a fountain. But now? Nada. Zero. Zilch. It's like my tear ducts closed up shop and went on permanent vacation. "What's the deal?" I keep asking myself. I mean, letting it all out with a good cry used to feel so liberating. Now, it feels like there's this emotional block keeping everything bottled up. Can anyone else relate to this weird sensation?

It's not like I'm super tough or have had some life-changing epiphany. I'm still the same old me, navigating through the ups and downs of life. So why the emotional drought? 😕 I'm starting to wonder if it's just this weird phase or maybe stress-related. Everyone's always like, "Be tough, be strong," and I guess I've taken it to heart a bit too much. But when I think about it, aren't tears part of what makes us human? Crying shouldn't be seen as a sign of weakness; it's a natural response; and I've kind of forgotten that. I remember someone saying that sometimes holding it together means falling apart; I guess maybe there's some truth to that?

It's not like life's a drag or anything, trust me! I still have plenty of good vibes and moments, but without the tears, it's like losing a part of expressing myself. I'm hopeful that this is just a temporary thing. Maybe one day soon, I'll watch a sappy rom-com, and the emotions will flood back, and I'll be ready with a box of tissues, crying my heart out at every plot twist. So, if anyone else has gone through this "tearless" phase, how'd you get your emotional faucet running again? Because seriously, it's about time to let those tears flow again, right?