Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

It's been two years since I lost my wife, Lily, in a tragic accident caused by a drunk driver. The pain of losing her has fragmented my life into pieces I'm still struggling to put together. My family, however, seems to remain oblivious to the depth of my grief. In fact, they never entirely embraced my marriage to Lily from the start.

In our family, there’s a tradition concerning a cherished necklace that is handed down to women upon marriage. It’s been in our family for many generations, and when Lily and I married, my grandmother entrusted it to me. This gesture was deeply meaningful as it symbolized some level of acceptance of my marriage to Lily. However, since Lily's death, my sister Emma, who always seemed to be the favored one, has set her sights on this necklace. She’s getting married soon and casually mentioned that since I am "no longer married," it should now be her turn to have it.

A recent family dinner escalated these tensions. During discussions about her upcoming wedding, Emma jokingly suggested that I should date one of her fiancé’s friends, adding insensitively that at least Lily wouldn’t be around to ‘haunt’ me. I was stunned into silence. Afterward, I expressed how hurt I was, and Emma dismissed my feelings, accusing me of being overly sensitive and urging me to "lighten up." She even suggested I entertain a fling with one of her bridesmaids who had shown interest in me during my marriage, completely disregarding my ongoing grief.

I stated plainly that I couldn’t attend her wedding if she persisted in diminishing Lily's memory and my grief. This led to a severe argument where Emma labeled me as "dramatic" and accused me of trying to ruin her wedding over a "small joke." My parents sided with her, reiterating that I should attend the wedding to support Emma and that the necklace should go to her as I was not "using it" anymore.

Since that evening, I've received unrelenting calls and messages from my parents, Emma, and her fiancé Luke, all painting me as selfish and stuck in the past. Luke even implied that I should be thankful the family has accepted me at all, given that I am gay—a remark that hints at their barely veiled tolerance rather than acceptance.

Am I really being unreasonable by considering not attending the wedding? I feel torn between standing up for my late wife's dignity and my grief, or just conforming to keep peace within the family. Sometimes I wonder how all this would be perceived if it were part of a reality show. Would spectators at home understand my pain, or would they too be swayed by the drama and the pressure of societal norms that often dictates moving on quickly from grief?

Sorry for any typos – it's tough to keep it together and typing this out after a few drinks to dull the pain of not just Lily’s absence but the rift within my family. Should I relent to keep the peace, or stand firm in honoring my late wife and my feelings? What would others do?

Work was a little bit better today, yet I can’t see how some people think I can do everything when I’m trying to do one at a time. I know they say you can’t be in two places at once but it feels like they think I can. I know my coworkers are trying to bass especially the last few months but with summer coming in everyone’s going crazy I don’t know how I can last. Plus I don’t know if my coworkers are thinking right I’m doing what they want me to do but at the same time They are not doing much either. I’m not saying they’re their work clothes too much for them but when you have people thinking you can do everything for you it does not help. I might be whining a bit, but that’s how I feel right now.

hey folks, thanks for stopping by this little corner of the internet. so, who else has been in the same boat after a breakup and is like, “what the heck now?” 🤔 because seriously, figuring out how to find peace after it all is like solving a puzzle sometimes. i’ve been there and i know how it feels to be stuck feeling like a broken record with no impressive solutions in sight. but don't stress because finding closure is totally possible.

so, here’s the thing: closure, in my experience, starts with acknowledging your emotions. you might wanna try just sitting with whatever you’re feeling – it might be anger, sadness, relief, or just plain numbness. and let me tell you, it’s all valid. it’s okay not to be okay initially, you know? perhaps think of it like when you’re listening to a song that resonates with your mood – you’re vibing with it, but you know there’s another track waiting after. embracing the moment and recognizing that those feelings are part of your journey can really help set the stage for healing. it’s all about allowing yourself to feel – no judgment, no rush.

once you’ve processed some of those initial emotions, reaching out to friends or family can be a total game-changer. talking things out can provide clarity and even some laughs as you realize you’re not the only one who’s ever experienced a breakup. and don’t forget to dive into things you love doing – it could be as simple as re-watching your favorite series, diving into a good book, or picking up a hobby that you’ve neglected for a while. i've found that focusing on my own interests helped me foster a new sense of normalcy and made things a bit less overwhelming. are you finding time for the things that make you happy lately?

speaking of self-care, this is absolutely your moment to shine and be your own best friend. you know how people say, “treat yo’self?” well, now’s the time to actually do it. indulge in a little pampering, sleep in, or whip up a meal that makes you smile. taking care of yourself physically and mentally is like building a foundation for a healthier future. keep in mind that healing isn’t linear – some days you'll feel on top of the world, and others, maybe not so much. and that’s perfectly okay! remember, closure doesn’t mean forgetting the past; it’s more about accepting it and letting it be part of your story without it defining you.

ultimately, when it all boils down, closure isn’t a checklist but more of an ongoing process. with time, you’ll be able to look back at your relationship and see it not just as an ending but as a part of your overall growth. were there lessons learned? ways you could grow into an even better version of yourself? take these insights and carry them forward with you. embracing this perspective can be incredibly liberating, and trust me, it can offer a sense of peace that’ll make the journey worthwhile. so, what’s one thing you’re taking away from your journey towards finding closure?

My husband and I have two kids, a 5-year-old girl and an 8-year-old boy. After a very traumatic birth with my elder one, I decided I wasn't ready to go through that again. But we still wanted more children, so five years ago we adopted. My mother-in-law cares for our family, but her preference for Malcolm is more than clear. She was furious when she heard I wouldn't be having another biological child and was instantly disapproving. After hearing we were going to adopt, her anger turned into rage. She screamed about how we didn't know the parentage of the child and might end up bringing in someone who would disgrace her lineage. My husband managed to calm her down. Thankfully, when she saw little Julia, it seemed like this was all behind us.

Yesterday, MIL decided to visit us. My husband was away on a trip, so she was just helping around. I was exhausted, so I asked if I could go down for a nap, and she agreed. After a few hours, she woke me up and informed me that she was about to leave. All was good, I was cooking in the kitchen, and suddenly I heard a loud bang followed by Julia crying. When I rushed into the hall, I saw Malcolm towering over her. "You're not real! All of this is mine!" he started screaming. It was incredibly confusing, to say the least.

After calming them down, I asked Malcolm what he meant. He revealed that Grandma Muriel had told him that he was "mommy and daddy's real son." This made me incredibly mad. I asked him what else Grandma had told him, and he shared how she had been telling him that Julia wasn't really his sister and how he should get extra attention for being "extra special." She'd also said he would always be her favorite grandson and more.

Blinded with rage, I blocked Muriel on everything after sending her a text detailing her actions and how this was absolutely unacceptable. I told her she'd never see her grandkids again until they're much older and understand the situation so they wouldn't be swayed by her words. I probably overreacted, to be fair; she is quite an old lady.

After my husband returned, we had quite the argument. To say the least, he disagreed. He adores his mother and told me that stopping her from seeing the kids is inhumane. He said she's simply old-fashioned and didn't know her words would have such a big impact. We will be having a civil discussion about this later.

Honestly, I sometimes wonder what would happen if our family was on a reality show. Can you imagine the drama? Everyone would have an opinion on whether I was too harsh or if my MIL was way out of line. The whole world would be weighing in on our family issues, and the public's reaction would probably be even more intense than what we're dealing with now.

Wow, the office is fertile ground for throwing shade at everyone. Nobody there knows what's going on, it seems to me, and I don't think I'm any different from what a professional would say, what a conversation is like. Everyone's always taking jabs at each other in some way. The girl I'm working with, my friend, my absolute best friend—and now I see she calls me her absolute best friend because, well, I look out for her every need—she's always fighting with everyone, no matter what, because nobody likes her sophisticated social structure. Everyone wants to get rid of her, just like my closest colleagues tried to do to me, for God's sake. The girl is a beautiful woman, I have to say it. She's not particularly striking, she's slim, she exercises, and that's why I find her so attractive, because I'm in the same boat, or rather, I consider myself to have those same attributes, so as not to establish something universal, because what one person considers fat, another might consider thin. I'm not going to use the term "weakness," which I don't think is appropriate and I don't feel like looking it up.

I feel compelled to write and write to be prepared for the coming days, because we're going to have a meeting, amidst the crisis that, as I understand it, has caused each office to operate under regulated formats. All this time I've spent diligently studying who we are, how we got here, how we managed to clash, and who we're dealing with. I feel somewhat horrified by the things I've discovered in the environment, and I don't know what system she's operating under. Frankly, instead of studying, I would have liked her, the girl, to have extended an invitation, perhaps for one of those outings, for a drink, like those extroverted people do. But someone could also say that she would have liked me to bring her to my places, my social spaces, where I thrive no matter what. However, in both our cases, those spaces are already completely taken over, and that's precisely what allows us to connect with each other, which is what makes our group what it is. We don't interact outside the office, in order to make the most of our time there. I feel like I like her a lot, if we're going to talk about it, because we're in the same boat and maybe we could save each other, but the idea isn't to get into that, because that would be ignoring the other person's life, where they are, their ability to get out of there, in terms of being able to see them, which is what creates the distance that makes the whole thing, and that distance arises precisely because we don't meet the expectations of the relationship environment. Rather, if we want to foster being together, saving each other is already a contradiction.

I'd like to tell the girl how I feel, but it would be for something completely futile, something that wouldn't help us, and I do love her, I really do, and that's why I want to stay by her side. Frankly, what I feel I'm doing with this writing is structuring all the ideas I've had for the past few days. In essence, that's what I feel I'm doing, because it also happens that I can't find anything else to do but think. I don't have any distractions other than delving into theoretical discussions, which are, in themselves, topics I find to distract myself from the fact that she's not there. Of course, I don't doubt that she's doing the same, getting involved in situations that allow her to discern what I'm feeling. It's a kind of digging into it, and that's precisely what defines our way of being with each other right now, like in the office, which is where things happen, as I don't know if I've mentioned before. In the office, each of us focuses on digging in our own schematic territory: she from a well-established, totally sociable perspective, I from a well-established, totally professional one, which, nevertheless, we leave aside a little in front of each other to be able to embrace. In other words, we manage to embrace each other by partially abandoning our principles, making use of the remaining portion, so that there is a proposal for mutual action and a direction is established. Of course, the proposals contain elements of each other, and that's why they clash. The fact that our initial principles are opposed and that we partially abandon them allows for flexibility, and at the same time, it allows us to find ways to connect. This is achieved by accepting that what we've done is both disappointing and satisfying; that is, it results in a middle ground to which we commit ourselves. We don't like each other at all, nor do we dislike each other at all, and what keeps us together is being at that midpoint between liking and disliking. The tendency towards extremes leads to the establishment of comfort zones with others, which we try to prevent as much as possible, and which leads us to interactions that go beyond the norm, ultimately contributing to our progress and our efforts to safeguard them.

I like what I'm writing; I feel like I'm establishing our way of being in the world, according to the mechanics that define each of us. It's exciting and guiding, but at the same time, it's exhausting because none of the surrounding groups are addressing these issues; I'm the one doing it. I can't imagine how exhausted she must be, too, from discerning this, and that if we don't, if we don't expose ourselves to a coordinated approach, we would be exposed to acts of control, given that our principles are opposed and the pre-established coordination means that we operate from our own principles, which directly reject those of the other. We can speak of rejection when what is expressed is not part of future discourse, that is, it is not taken into account. However, rejection reaches its extreme when that discourse becomes a deflection for the other, a situation made possible through the visualization of counterparts. Often, the one who wins in such arenas is a matter of exercising argumentation within the environment, since, in essence, both are on the same level in terms of generative actions, so to speak, but what determines limitations is the environment, the collective understanding.

I feel like I'm using the site to create, so to speak, sociological diagrams, and I admit it tires me. I'm having fun, but I feel like I'm no longer getting to anything truly interesting. All this writing stems from the fact that, theoretically, being in a period of crisis and the company only operating in an irregular format, I took my time, but it hasn't been a stable thing because there are still activities going on in the company, in the office, anyway. In this recent context, there was an invitation to a get-together, which was prompted by the change in routine, as I was already on vacation. It also happens that I want to be as prepared as possible for that event, presentable. I can't say that her life, meanwhile, has been easier during this period, because I've already seen evidence that it hasn't. During this crisis, the girl has had a very difficult time regarding the repercussions of a family member's situation; I understand that's part of it. I'd like to be able to talk about what I'm doing, but it's a private matter, and I'm afraid to say what I'm doing, mainly because I don't remember what I'm doing. I don't share it because I do so many things that I simply don't remember any of them. I'm not focused on remembering; they're done for me and only me, just like with her. That's why telling me anything about her or about me is complicated because it means explaining what one does in an entire life, or at least in a certain period of time, which is a lot. That would absorb her from her life, and that's definitely not the idea.

Personally, I feel like I'm stretching my ideas to the limit, as much as possible, because I want to be as prepared as possible. I'm also doing it to forget about this whole thing once and for all. Having an unusual relationship in the middle of a period when socializing is unusual makes everything feel new.

One afternoon, after a long day at work, I returned home to find a message from my neighbor plastered on my door. It read, "Please refrain from parking on this street this Monday from 10am to 12pm due to a filming activity. The NYPD has been informed and parking restrictions will be enforced." This alert seemed a bit off to me, so I decided to check with the local police station. Upon inquiry, they confirmed that while my neighbor had indeed notified them about the filming, they had not authorized any parking enforcement or restrictions for that day.

The next day, another message from my neighbor appeared, this time amending his previous note: "Hello, it appears there was a misunderstanding regarding NYPD's involvement in the ticketing of cars. Nonetheless, I would really appreciate it if you could avoid parking here during the mentioned hours." His change in tone didn't sit well with me, particularly because of his initial threat of ticketing.

Choosing to stand my ground, I made no plans to move my car that Monday. Our neighborhood is generally calm and provides ample parking, which makes it a favorite for driving schools to conduct their lessons due to its tranquility.

On Monday morning, as I was heading out to catch the subway, I encountered the neighbor setting up his filming equipment. He inquired if I knew whose car was parked on the street and if it could be moved. I admitted mine was among them but declined to move it. He pleaded, saying it would help him greatly. I reminded him of his initially deceptive approach which had soured any willingness on my part to assist him. He persisted, but I refused again, leading him to label me as rude and an inconsiderate neighbor. I brushed off his comments and proceeded to the subway.

Imagining this scenario taking place on a reality show adds an intriguing layer. How would viewers react to such a confrontation broadcasted nationally? Reality show audiences often enjoy drama and conflict, so this situation could likely become a pivotal and much-discussed moment of an episode. Viewers might split into camps, some siding with the filmmaker for trying to pursue his project and others with the car owner standing up against what they perceived as initial bullying. The debates on social media platforms could be intense, examining the ethics of neighborhood cooperation versus personal rights.

So, am I just standing up for my rights or making too big a deal out of something small?

i remember reading an article which stated that life is a series of choices, and i found it resonates with my situation. my husband and i have been married for twenty years; we share a home and family but our life isn't as picture-perfect as one might think. his aggressive behavior escalates at times, leading to physical confrontations that leave me emotionally and physically drained. unfortunately, our two children are witnesses to these distressing episodes, and i feel guilty that they must endure it too. i'm weighing whether this relationship can be salvaged or if it's best to separate for everyone's well-being.

i've sought professional assistance from various resources on domestic violence intervention strategies and conflict resolution techniques. while some methods have proven beneficial in mediating disputes temporarily or providing clarity on certain topics, there's still an underlying friction that seems insurmountable. the challenge here lies in evaluating the effectiveness of therapy sessions versus living separately without allowing resentments to fester further.

well-known psychologist once said: 'Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow'; which captures the essence of how deeply intertwined relationships impact personal growth both positively and negatively over time... The uncertainty surrounding whether such complexities should prompt immediate action remains prevalent but simultaneously overwhelms me considering potential ramifications upon everyone involved 🤔 My heart leans towards optimism hoping changes can transpire through continued communication yet realistic understanding necessitates acknowledgment when enough has been tried.

So, I've been rather lonely for the past couple of years. About 6 years, in fact. Physically speaking I am not lonely,I've always had caring family and friends around me. But emotionally, I've felt detached and disorientated for the past few years. I've been mentally unstable,have attempted to kill myself about 3 times, and also self harmed a lot (I've been clean of self harm for a few months, though, fortunately.)

Anyways.For me, nothing beats feeling lonely than playing truth or dare with yourself and postinsetting up questions asking about my own day in a fake chat to try and cheer myself up.I don't understand a few things,to be honest. Why do i feel lonely even though there's so many people keeping me company? What did I do to deserve all these wonderful and caring human beings? Unlike them, I'm nothing good. I'm practically just a worthless parasite, and yet they all put up with me. My family, friends, and practically everyone I know. I don't understand how someone can like something like me. I'm just worthless anyways. But yet I want to be loved. My minds been a conflicting and overwhelming mess for years now, and I still don't know how to manage it. Somedays I find myself getting better. Somedays I find myself back in this loop of confusion and frustration. I don't want to continue being like this. I want to be happy with everyone else. So I guess I'll try again. I've failed, sure, multiple times. But I'll try again. And I'll keep trying. I'm going to die anyways. We all are. So since it's inevitable,might as well give life a small chance.

This morning, my 9-year-old son, Jeremy, underwent an appendectomy. He was quite aware of the procedure but his main concern was about the attire—or the lack thereof. He was not comfortable with the idea of stripping down to just a hospital gown without his socks or underwear. When we arrived at the hospital room to prepare him for surgery, he shyly requested that his mother (my ex-wife) and her sister (his aunt) either turn around or leave the room while he changed, feeling more comfortable with only me there to assist him.

Post-surgery, in the recovery room, were myself, my ex-wife, her sister, her 13-year-old daughter, and my 18-year-old son, all of us anxiously waiting for Jeremy to fully recover from the anaesthesia and to be discharged. As he started regaining consciousness, the first thing Jeremy whispered to me was his discomfort at being in only a gown with three female relatives present.

Just then, a female nurse stepped in to check his vitalysis while conversing with my ex-wife. Sensing my son's discomfort, I gently requested everyone, including the nurse, to step outside so that I could help him dress with the assistance of his older brother. The request seemed to perplex them all. The nurse in particular questioned whether my insistence was serious, emphasizing her extensive experience in nursing. I reaffirmed that it was about my son's comfort and not about her credentials. My pointing out that her dismissal of my son's feelings was insensitive did not sit well with her nor with my ex-wife, who later accused me of creating drama. Eventually, they all agreed to leave, and my older son and I helped Jeremy into his clothes.

Following this, my ex-wife called, arguing that I owed everyone an apology for my actions. I stood my ground, explaining the importance of respecting Jeremy's personal comfort and boundaries, particularly during such a vulnerable time. The conversation eventually touched on future bathing arrangements, where I expressed that if Jeremy wasn't comfortable bathing in front of her, it wasn't up for debate, and I wasn't going to push him.

If this scenario unfolded on a reality show, the reactions could be varied and intense. Viewers might split into camps, some sympathizing with the father's protective stance and others siding with the nurse and mother, perceiving the father's actions as unnecessary and overprotective. It could lead to heated discussions both on-screen and among the audience, potentially escalating into a broader debate about patient rights and family dynamics in sensitive medical situations.

Hi! I'm not sure how to do this but I really have to get this off my chest. I was video calling with my girlfriend and out of nowhere she said "I'm gonna go" and hung up. She's been doing pretty bad lately and I've been doing my best to help but I feel like it's not enough, like I'm not enough. I was terrified she was gonna do something to herself so I asked if she was okay and where did she go- no answer. I waited and then I called and texted. And basically I've been doing that the whole night, haven't gotten any sleep. I'm terrified of losing her, I thought she was the one. At the same time though I saw she was active on snapchat so I calmed down a bit. Still haven't slept. And I hate to say this but I am so mad at her. Like why is she ignoring me? If I did something wrong I'd want her to tell me. I don't want to stay up all night worrying about her. I hate this. What do I do?

Earlier this year, I was confronted with a terminal diagnosis. According to my doctors, my time is limited—possibly just a few years remain for me to address any unresolved issues. With the aid of a dedicated attorney and a social worker specializing in end-of-life care, I've begun laying the groundwork to ensure that my desires are honored smoothly and respectfully when I am no longer able to make decisions.

My family background complicates my situation further. My biological parents were never married and my father passed away from the same ailment I'm battling when I just turned 12. He was unmarried, hence his wealth was secured in a trust, overseen by my grandparents, for my benefit. Later, my mother remarried and I have a half-brother from her second marriage. He faces severe mental challenges—functioning mentally much like a child, despite his adult physique, which places immense stress on my mother and stepfather's already strained finances. They couldn't gain access to my trust funds despite several attempts. At times, I feel more like a backup financial plan to my mother rather than her daughter, leading to a strained relationship filled with passive-aggressiveness from her and my stepfather.

Knowing my days are numbered, I have tried to bridge the gap with my mother, aiming to ease any past grudges while I still can. Since my diagnosis, she has shown genuine concern—possibly sensing the gravity of my condition. In discussing my plans with her, making it clear that I have assigned a relative as my health and financial power of attorney to mitigate her burden, I sensed her relief. However, she hinted at her hopes for my involvement in my half-brother's future care. She expressed desires to allocate any inheritance I leave behind for his continued support, underlining her wish that he recognizes the aid as coming from his big sister.

Despite these conversations, I have chosen not to leave my assets to my mother or half-brother. My life’s joy has been significantly brightened by my best friend’s children, to whom I am an affectionate "auntie." They, along with their parents—who have supported me tirelessly, accompanying me to medical appointments and offering their home when I couldn't be alone—will be the beneficiaries of my estate. My decision is driven by a desire to affect positively the lives that have interwoven so closely with mine, rather than securing a potentially better care arrangement for my half-brother.

Am I being unreasonable in making this choice?

It’s interesting to ponder how this might unfold if my life were part of a reality show. Cameras capturing every nuanced expression as I disclose my decisions to my family. Would the audience sympathize with my wishes, or would they judge me for seeming to neglect my own family in their eyes? The dramatic reveal and the ensuing familial reactions could indeed make for compelling television but might also skew public perception of my choices.

Losing my husband unexpectedly was a heart-breaking experience that left me grappling with unbearable sorrow and navigating an uncertain future. Honestly, there were moments when I felt completely lost and alone, questioning how I could possibly move forward without him by my side. Amidst the overwhelming grief, my mum became an incredible pillar of strength for me. She offered a comforting presence during my darkest moments and helped me find a way out of the grief abyss. I had to ask myself, where would I be without her unwavering support and kind words during these trying times???

My mum's wisdom and compassion were nothing short of lifesavers. Every morning she called, ensuring I knew she was there and that I wasn't facing this new reality alone. An unplanned bonus to her supportive presence was her uncanny knack for knowing when I just needed someone to listen, without uttering a single word in return. We joked quite a bit, which was a much-needed breather from the suffocating heaviness of grief. She had the extraordinary ability to bring back a little sunshine into my life. Can you imagine what a gift that is?? Her thoughtful hugs and cups of tea were small gestures that went a long way to settling my scattered mind. Mum wasn’t afraid to take the reins and help me with daily tasks that suddenly felt monumental. 💪 Household chores, meal preps, even a few Netflix nights that started to fill up the void ever-so-slightly. It’s funny how parents continue to surprise us even when we’re adults, isn't it?? Her invaluable guidance taught me to honor my emotions, yet remain hopeful about the future and acknowledge that it’s okay to ask for help. My healing journey would be incomplete without recognizing her selfless love and encouragement that equipped me with the strength to move forward each day. 🧡

I don't know why I had to endure the treatment I endured. I feel like I lived surrounded by pure monsters, by people who wanted to change my life, who didn't love me. I don't know why I had to live through something like that. What did I do to the world to have to live through something like that? I had to put everyone in their place. It's as if they'd been waiting a long time for the day this would happen. I'd never seen such vengeful intent on the part of my family. I feel like it was the worst, on the part of medicine, on the part of the world.

I didn't understand why the hell the world turned against me. What did I do? I just wanted to be free from everyone. Why this eagerness to grab me? Do they think that because I'm a family member, I'm doomed to receive their punishment? They're all crazy. How many after-effects didn't they leave me with? How much did I have to write to survive the after-effects? So that these things wouldn't affect me in the future. And the psychiatrist ignores this! Why did I have to walk the path alone again? I don't understand. I feel like this is a very real reality for me. I'm having a hard time processing it fully.

It brings tears to my eyes. Why did I have to fight with my family? My departure was supposed to have made them reflect on their principles, but they weren't even capable of that. They only reflected on some brutal things, trying to figure out how to intervene with me. How could I be like this? Why the hell did I encounter such a bunch of macabre people? How long will I have to live putting them in their place? Don't they have the capacity to reflect? To learn? What the hell is wrong with them? Do you have problems there or something?

It can't be that I left for three years and these people only got worse. I can't believe it. They hit me, once, twice, three times, and now a fourth time. Who the hell needs to go to a psychiatrist? Me or them? It's clear they have serious behavioral problems. The same things happen again and again. They lack the ability to learn, they seek to do things secretly, seeking to do more harm. Why do these people only improve, leading them astray? Until when? Is it that a case in them cannot be trusted? Where is the education? I find it hard to believe that this I found is a family of mine. Personally, I say it, I admit it, it can't be that I found it, it's my blood. I can't believe this is my blood. Once again, pushing them aside, to the side, happened again. Until when?

I ask myself: Do these individuals really want family? Do these individuals really want to be with me? Where is the desire that verifies it? Where is the affection? It can't be that they're going back to the same mistakes as before. It can't be. It's clear that they don't want to get out of the same situation they're in with me. They're just making excuses, they don't want to be with me, but I've had enough of them. I've given them plenty of opportunities to change; it's been enough.

I feel totally disappointed in my family members. And not just in them, but in the doctors too, who clearly haven't reflected one bit on what happened, nothing short of a sad act of heroism. Where is a reflective world? It's impossible that no one has shared the cause of this explosion with them, it can't be. And they're healthcare workers! I can't stand these professionals any longer. Do they know how to socialize? If that's the case, it should apply to all cases, not just a select few. It's in diversity that things are seen. But what do I have to do with them? I don't see anything, I don't see effort, I don't see reflection. Where is the brainpower to move the world forward?

I feel deeply outraged. It's impossible that to this day someone suggested I celebrate Mother's Day again, as an adult, and also without knowing the circumstances, and also as someone who cares for children, and not just her, but also another who is a teacher. Why have I surrounded myself with these kinds of people? Where's the capacity for reflection? Are we just going to support the maintenance of a family structure? What if it's a façade, as is often the case, for the perpetuation of crime by one of its thousands of agents? Where's even the conscience of the citizenry? Frankly, I don't understand.

Is this what many people I've grown accustomed to wanted in people? These people are capable of bringing down a country. Am I going to be with them? For that, I'd rather pack my bags and leave forever, or at least, if I were to experience that, have the satisfaction of knowing that it was going to happen, and then formulate a support plan, but only by following the matter closely. That's being preemptive! Why does no one want to see that? Is that why no one wants to know what's going on in the environment, the people there? I mean, do I have to join them in that fall? It's not fair, I don't have to pay for the unconsciousness of others.

Am I the asshole for buying everyone ice cream?

my family seems to think I am.

my grandma's birthday is in a few days but she's been sick and bummed out, not to mention I'm working a lot and my mom has been bothering me about cleaning my room... so I gave my grandma her presents early. which she loved but I suppose it was my fault because this is where this issue starts...

my grandma didn't feel great and wanted me to take her to the store, I went and while she was shopping I got gas. she gave me $10 towards it which was nice. I would tell her to keep it but for people that understand out there ...doing that is more trouble than it's worth. normally I would sneak it back into her purse or a coat pocket so it's a surprise when she finds money around but she wanted to get ice cream so I decided to use some coupons and order it ahead since she wasn't feeling well. however you want to think of it.... I used the $10 either towards my gas or towards her gigantic sundae, I wasn't going to ask for any more money.

I decided to buy my mom and stepdad a little ice cream too, I know what they like... but when I got home they didn't say thank you. my mother called me fat and uncontrollable, especially noticing that their 2 sundaes were a medium instead of a large like mine and my grandma's. my stepdad said he didn't need it and when the time came later for a snack they openly grabbed chips. they do this often so I'm bothered by it but probably not as much as another person would be or I should be.

meanwhile... everyone had gotten a different ice cream. I could tell which one was which by size and toppings. my grandma had her ice cream in her freezer, before she went to bed (8pm) she said she didn't feel good and wasn't eating it tonight, not a problem. I left and around 9 when I went for my ice cream, eating past the toppings I chose for myself I noticed the ice cream place messed up, that ice cream wasn't my ice cream.. I assumed it was switched with my grandma's or they just gave me ice cream with nuts which I do not eat so I put the ice cream back in the freezer to figure out tomorrow when I got up and my grandma was awake so I could dig through her toppings to see if that was actually 'her ice cream' under there and if it really was a mistake then I would just scoop my ice cream out and switch.

I went to sleep. The next morning I got up and asked if she had eaten the ice cream, how she was feeling, etc..

"oh I was so sick last night. I got up in the middle of the night and had 'a little' ice cream blah blah.. why?"

"a little? oh ok good. I was wondering because I was trying to eat mine and when I got past my toppings on the one side I could see that wasn't my ice cream. I ordered everyone butter pecan with extra nuts.. I guess the girl was confused because I got butter pecan but with all my toppings on top"

"but you don't like nuts"

"yea I know. at first I thought maybe she mixed our ice cream up and I was going to check to see if you got my Oreo but since you had 'a little' how was it?"

"don't get me ice cream anymore"

?

"it tasted funny"

??? *walking to the freezer, prepared to get her ice cream to check but stops*

"it was probably my taste buds since I'm sick. yea, I ate the whole thing"

"... I thought you said you had 'a little'?"

"no I ate the whole thing"

"even though 'it tasted funny'?"

"well that was just my taste buds. I pushed through it"

"well.... I ...okaaay.. so.... what color was the ice cream?"

"it was ice cream"

"yes. what color? black? white? gray?"

"yea it was like black"

"that was my ice cream"

"you gave it to me!"

"yea because I thought it was yours. your toppings were on top. we both had different toppings so..."

"ok well then give me my ice cream"

...?

"the ice cream you still have. you didn't eat it right? the yellow butter pecan.. that was mine so give it to me."

"it has all my toppings on it.. you won't like that.."

"I'll pay you for it"

"no no it's ok"

I didn't take her money. I took off my toppings as best I could and gave her the ice cream. she complained to my mother about something because a while later my mother says something like "I can't believe you took her money, it's ice cream! her birthday is next week that could have been her present"

I didn't say anything and idk what was said by who but.... I got my grandmother at least $50 of stuff. sure she gave me $10 'for gas' but I'm paying for her Netflix and with her $10 Starbucks and the $12 ice cream for her... and that's just TODAY. I get people things all the time. PLUS I buy my mother's birthday cake and my grandma's cake every year....

I ignored what my mother and stepdad said again. I asked my grandma how the ice cream was, if it was better than the previous one. she said "it was ok. I still can't taste right but I know that there was no basically no toppings on it and the few things that were there weren't even what I liked. (name) you have to remember I like nuts. lots and lots of nuts, and caramel. this didn't have that"

"yea ..all the nuts and the caramel were on the first one you ate. this one I took the toppings off because I knew you wouldn't like it"

"yeaaa... that first one tasted funny. just don't get me ice cream anymore"

my mother walked by in that moment, overhearing, and decided to tell me that no one needed or wanted ice cream, and I should be more thoughtful since some people are lactose intolerant. my grandma and stepdad basically agreed saying they didn't ask for any of that.

so I guess I'm just some wicked witch pushing my evil lactose on people, talking about my topping agenda.

Piece by piece I try to keep me and Ed’s relationship together it’s so hard we sometimes fight normally we make up immediately after I’m always the one apologizing first though.. his family issues have gotten so bad that he is having thoughts of wanting to kill himself one time he said he wanted his family to die I told him how that scared me and we got into another argument not really an argument he just cursed at me which he never does but still scared me more lunix told me to gave a breather so I did when I came back he was fine I feel so useless I can’t help him I can’t make him feel happy does he even love me or is he trying to find excuses to live it hurts everytime he talks about it the pain everytime I feel like I tell him to stop he’ll never tell me anything so I deal with it hide the pain hide the shame I want it to End I just wanna jump off a fucking Cliff why is this so hard I just wanna talk to someone but Ed’s best friend said it makes Ed really upset when I talk about one of our fights or issues with someone else what do I do I’m so close to fucking ending myself everyday im losing more and more energy to even get out of bed..

(Lunix my sister Ed my boyfriend)