Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I'm scared of dying in my sleep, knowing that it can happen at any time. And you wouldn't even know because you won't wake up if it happens,

you lay in bed and close your eyes, ready to go to bed and wake up the next morning but the fear sometimes lingers with me. Which sounds stupid when you say it out loud because it would be the most peaceful way to go right?

but at the same time, i feel like to me it's the hardest way. Not the aftermath of it, but just knowing it could happen and what others would think. You don't get to say goodbye, you can't give a last message. What would my online friends think? that i ghosted them but in reality i died?

It's the being afraid of dying before living life to my fullest. What if i die before getting to live as a guy? before i come out. If the last thing they know me as is a girl when all i want to be seen as is a guy. Is that just part of the fear? the fear of dying, but also the fear of leaving things unfinished. Like there’s still so much you haven’t gotten to do yet? I know i will die someday but it's always a feeling that stays because what if i don’t get the chance to be me before that happens?

It’s just one of those thoughts that makes everything feel a little more real than i want it to feel. Sometimes i'm stuck staring at the ceiling trying to distract myself with the thought that i will wake up. But my brain just circles back like it’s looking for an answer that doesn’t exist. Because you won't know if you don't wake up.

Am i just afraid of dying young? and is there a way to ease this feeling a little?

This morning, I had a weird feeling I can't really explain.

It started as how any usual day starts for me: excruciating mental pain. For the first half of the day, I thought I was done for, just like always. I remembered how much I was harassed and how ugly it got, and I thought I was gonna get found by the person who ultimately ruined my entire life in just one day. I'm pretty sure I said parts of what I can actually say in previous posts, but long story short I was completely done with my goals. I gave up, giving AI little of what was left of my creativity just to see if I can get that old spark back (which is a mistake, but I had zero resource and I was in a block).

Today, however, I felt something different after the second half of the day. I was scrolling through channels trying to crunch down another boring samey Sunday, until I landed on a movie about experiencing the joys of life. It ignited something on me; I looked around my living room, no shortage of something I'm good at: collecting Nintendo controllers specifically. In my living room alone, I found a cyan Wii Remote, a golden Classic Controller Pro, and my NSO 2 GameCube Controller. I looked at my trampoline and at all the free space in my house, and I thought about how much I love to run and exercise freely. I thought about my tastes in food and realized how unique they were--I might hate white condiments, but I love well-prepared anchovy pizza and pineapple pizza, I love drinking frozen matcha and eating loaded potato soup. I sat for a little longer and all of a sudden, I saw a vision of a character sitting beside me like if they were alive. Suddenly, I felt like I really wanted to go to the mall and let myself loose--find out what kinds of stores it had, how many stories, what where the anchors, what was at the food court, playing at a Dave & Busters, just overall letting myself loose and seeing the very appealing design that was the inside of a mall. This interest wasn't just an obligation to keep me stimulated; it was an actual call to return to my old self. I saw the similarities between my favorite (drawing) artists, and I stopped feeling anxious, even if some of these still make me go WTF. I acknowledged that despite their damning similarities, they each bring something new to the table and keeping me to innovate and do the same: follow the same footsteps but bring something new to the table. I even felt like coming up with a plan to start over with my art, presumably just in time for next year's ArtFight.

There's one problem though. I've had similar breakthroughs before, and I don't know how to keep the newfound spark. I'm enrolled in some coding classes that really frustrated me and completely broke on me and I'm pretty sure I failed the assignment because it's past the deadline and the whole program was straight up broken in the professor's end. It got me super mad, and it even blocked my creativity. My spark can easily just disappear.

So I have a question: what would you guys do to keep the spark alive? I do indeed have a plan to redefine what my creativity truly means, but what if more frustrating coding assignments ruin everything for this spark and leave me right where I got started once again?

hey there! So lately I've been kinda buggin' about this nagging thought that's been overtaking my brain way more than I'd like. I'm 21, and ever since I was a little girl, my head's been swirling with all sorts of weird rituals and obsessive thoughts. But these days, it feels like they just won't chill out, you know? 🙃 It's like every time I think I got it under control, it just ups the ante. Does anyone else feel like OCD is getting worse with age? Or am I just being dramatic here?

i remember when I was younger, it was all about checking the locks (like 10 freakin’ times) and making sure light switches were perfectly aligned. But now, it's like a whole new level. My brain's got this talent for coming up with new, more complex obsessions. 🙈 I get super jittery if I don't carry out these little rituals perfectly, and it's exhausting. I'm seriously wondering if there's any hope in sight or if it's gonna keep ramping up? like real talk, why is my mental health acting up like an angsty teenager? maybe I just need to give in and accept it, but man, it's tough; 😅 does anyone else feel me on this? or am I just being paranoid about the whole "worse with age" thing?

I hope this doesnt sound too messy because my writing is honestly terrible, but I wanted to share this little story in case anyone reading ever wondered about the signs your family doesnt care about you, or at least seems like they dont. Im 17 and a girl, and Ive kinda grown up watching my parents circle around my brothers like planets around a sun, while Im some tiny moon they forget is even there. They go to every football match my brothers play, even when its freezing outside or when the team always loses. They cheer so loud I swear the field shakes. When one of them gets an A on a test, my mom tells the whole family group chat and my dad claps him on the shoulder like he just won a Nobel Prize. When I get good grades, they say OK and go back to whatever they were doing. I dont think theyre trying to be mean, they just forget me, like that quote from The Perks of Being a Wallflower where it says we accept the love we think we deserve, and sometimes I wonder if I just accepted this whole situation without thinking too much. And maybe thats why Im telling this politely, because staying polite feels like the only way I stay steady;

Anyway I keep trying to stay objective about it, because I know teenagers can exagerate things and I dont want to sound like Im throwing a fit. Its just facts. They barely talk to me unless they need me to do a chore. They never ask me about my intersts, like school clubs or the small art projects I do. I once tried to show my mom a drawing I worked on for two weeks, and she said Mhmm while scrolling on her phone. If one of my brothers had drawn literally anything, even a stick figure, it would of gotten a photo framed in the living room. Still I keep telling myself maybe they dont realize how it feels from my side. Maybe they grew up in familys where girls stayed quiet or maybe they think Im independant and dont need them. I stay polite because whats the point of fighting. Its better to observe everything like Im some researcher taking notes on a family I dont totally belong in. Detatchment feels safer. But even with that detatchment Im hopeful. I think one day someone will care to ask about my life the same way they ask my brothers.

The weird thing is how normal it all feels now, even tho I know deep down it shouldnt. Sometimes I sit in my room and wander, Would anyone notice if I just stopped trying. Not in a dramatic way just a logical question. And I bet you if someone reading this has felt like the shadow sibling youv wondered it too. I remember one time my English teacher complimented an essay I wrote telling me I had clear potential and my first instinct was to laugh because no one at home has ever used the word potential about me. I quoted her in my journal because it felt so strnage yet so nice. Im not saying my parents are villians or anything like that. Theyre polite people themselfs and I know they love us in their own way. They just show it unevenly like someone pouring water into two cups and missing the third. And thats okay. Cups can be refilled someday by someone else or maybe by ourselves. Im trying to beleive that honestly.

So I guess all this is just me asking gently have you ever felt invisible in your own house. And if yes how did you figure out that it wasnt your fault. I try to stay hopeful because Ive read so many storys yes I know sounds cheesy where people grow up and finally meet friends or mentors or partners who see them and cheer for them the way their family never did. Maybe that will be me too. I want to keep a positive tone because life isnt over at 17 not even close and maybe this whole weird upbringing will make me appreciate real attention when it finally comes. Im staying polite staying patient and staying open to the idea that things can still change. And if they dont at least Ill know I tried to understand it instead of letting it crush me. Maybe thats the real sign that I care about myself even if my family sometimes forgets to show that they do.

My sister Laura is set to get married in just three months. She has decided to have a wedding without any children present. I completely understand and respect her choice. However, the situation becomes a bit tricky for my husband, Jake, and me because we have a newborn who is only three months old. When Laura initially informed us about her decision for a child-free event, I thought she might make an exception for immediate family, especially for newborns who need constant care.

I approached Laura to discuss the possibility of bringing our baby to the wedding. I explained that I'm currently breastfeeding and leaving our baby with someone else for an entire day isn't something we're comfortable with. Furthermore, since the wedding is in another city, we would have to rely on a stranger or leave our baby far away at home with someone else. I shared my anxiety about being separated from our newborn for such an extended period, hoping she would understand.

However, Laura was quite firm in her decision. She emphasized that allowing our baby at the wedding would be unfair to other guests who are adhering to the 'no children' rule. I suggested that perhaps we could bring our baby just for the ceremony and leave before the reception, but she refused that too. She wants the entire day to be free of children.

I expressed to her that if our baby can't come, then it would be difficult for us to attend. We considered having only Jake go, but it felt odd and impractical. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving our baby even with Jake and attending alone. Laura became quite upset and mentioned that her wedding should take precedence and implied that I needed to learn to detach from our baby for just a few days. She stressed the importance of her day and seemed to expect us to accommodate her without considering our stance.

Is it really unreasonable for me to prioritize my baby’s needs over attending the wedding? I respect it’s Laura’s day and her rules, but a little empathy from her side would have been appreciated. Now, I almost feel like Laura is being a bit of a bridezilla.

If this situation unfolded on a reality TV show, viewers might be split. Some would likely sympathize with my position as a new mother not wanting to part from her baby, while others might support Laura's steadfast adherence to her child-free wedding policy. The drama and conflict might even boost the show's ratings as audience members debate over family obligations versus respecting the bride's wishes.

I cann't help but wonder, am I realy the asshole for not being willing to attend my sister's wedding because my baby isn't welcomed?

To begin, I firmly believe everyone has a right to their own opinions and views, and that's perfectly fine with me.

Lately, I've been cohabitating with some folks who are really into holistic and alternative healing practices—think along the lines of ayurvedic and spiritual remedies. We're all around our late 20s. Personally, I tend to be skeptical about the efficacy of these approaches and often end up sharing my views on traditional scientific methods during our discussions. For example, I've mentioned how standard medical science would handle things like candida infections with antifungal treatments, noting that it's common yet manageable with the right medication, and that if it ever entered the bloodstream, it could become a severe health threat.

Here's where I might be stepping on toes. Recently, one of my roommates, who's really deep into spiritual practices, pulled me aside. She told me that by sharing my scientific perspectives, I'm inadvertently making others feel invalidated or challenged, even though my intention is merely to enlighten with backed scientific facts. Now, I’ve switched tactics slightly by posing questions about their beliefs, hoping to gently highlight some logical inconsistencies. However, this seems to have agitated them even more, interpreting it as a subtle form of criticism.

Am I in the wrong here? Should I refrain from sharing my insights and let them continue endorsing their skeptical views on science, or should there be another strategy for me to approach this?

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality show. The tension and drama would surely escalate each episode as the viewers would be roped into the conflicts between science and spirituality within the household. There could be heated debates showcased in each episode, with audiences likely split in their support for either side. The dynamic could either make me a villain or a voice of reason, depending on the viewers' biases.

so I've been dating this awesome girl for about three months now and everything is freaking great. Like, honestly, I've never been this happy. But here's the catch - my parents don't have a clue that I'm into girls. Yup, I'm a lesbian, and trust me, coming out to your folks ain't a walk in the park. I'm 19, so I guess it's high time I spill the beans, right? But seriously, how do you even approach this whole "hey mom, dad, I'm lesbian" chat without having a mini heart attack? They're pretty chill folks but still, the fear is real.

I mean, we all know how these conversations usually go down. It's not like I'm gonna bust out guitar and sing "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross. It's more like an intense, awkward movie scene where everyone freaks out. Plus, there's always crap like the possibility of them flipping their lids or, worse, looking at you with that disappointed expression that's scarier than hell. But here's the thing, you gotta own it, right? You're responsible for your happiness and whatnot. And if someone suggests shoving this truth under the rug, eff that noise; this is your life. So, do you wait for the perfect moment, or just rip the bandaid off and let the chips fall where they may?

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?

I finalized my divorce from my husband about a year ago. Right after our split, his girlfriend—who had been his affair partner—moved into the house that we'd once called home. I decided to move abroad, leaving behind most belongings, and told him to keep whatever he wished. Honestly, his cheating hardly impacted me anymore; our relationship had fizzled out long before, and the affair simply pushed us to acknowledge it.

Following the divorce and her moving in, we ceased all communication since there was nothing left to discuss. However, out of the blue, a week ago, I received a cheery message from her complimenting the home's style and inquiring about where certain decorations and furnitures were from. I contemplated her message for a day, then responded somewhat sharply, telling her that since she seemed to have everything perfectly arranged, she should also manage to 'figure out' the décor on her own. She questioned what I meant, and I couldn't help but express that since she now had everything that my ex had wanted—which apparently didn't include me—she didn’t need to replicate my style, too.

She replied, claiming she was just trying to be nice and give me a compliment. Right after, my ex texted me, puzzled by the conflict since he thought we'd remained amicable after our split.

Although it's true that we had both moved on from the marriage emotionally, her attempt at stepping into my aesthetic shoes hit a nerve. My friends and family are split on my reaction. Was I wrong to respond the way I did???

Now, imagine this scenario playing out in a reality TV show. Cameras rolling as dramatic music swells, capturing every nuanced expression of shock, hurt, and defiance. It's easy to imagine how the audience would react—likely split, with some empathizing with my need to sever all ties and establish distinct identities, while others might criticize the sharpness in my response, arguing that a simple acknowledgment of the compliment could have sufficed. The allure of reality TV thrives on such conflicts, and surely this exchange would stir up heated discussions across social media, making it a highlight reel moment of the season.

How should I handle ex's GF copying my style?

Dont know how to start, but last year I told my partner to never ever loan money online because I kept on worrying that he would get scammed in instead of getting what he wanted, later on when we were heading home I noticed that he kept hiding his phone from me whenever I would peek, and obviously I noticed something strange as he usually let's me peek to his phone, moving foward is that he told me that he borrowed some money online to buy something that he really wanted (p.s. things are getting a little bit rough fue to financial problems), I was mad but forgave him later on and told him the second time that he should promise me that he wouldn't borrow or loan some money online. Moving foward things are going great we were having fun, but I dont specifically know how I know again but he borrowed money again through online because his reason is that "he was irritated and out of his mind by the we had an argument to each other" which I was angry and a bit sad because firstly notnonly he broke his promise to me but at the same time it feels like it was my fault that we fought to each other. I didn't argue back but just scolded him because it was also affecting me to, as because the cost kept getting higher and he needed help so I lend him some money. I told him the THIRD TIME that he should promise me again and stop spending and start saving money. At this point I dont know why but im slowly losing trust on him whenever he would do something I just kinda accepted it, never argue about it because it will only make things worst.

Recently he reached out to me again that he needed to pay something, which is for the money he borrowed again online, I didn't argue but yet dissapointed, I told him that this time he should pay me back because heck the money he needed to pay is out of my budget, since I "love him" that much I lend him some cash, later on since I was bored I wanted to play with my partner so I asked him out to play with me, and thinking also that he would be easy on me and even be affectionate towards me since I did him a favor and such, i expected too much and didn't gpt that kind of treatment but it's whatever its just a game, during the game there's this figurine he wanted to buy and even told his dad and such and he agreed (p.s. we are only college students that still needed support from our parents) and he wanted to ask the buyer if its still available on the day of his birthday, which he reached out to me needing help to chat the seller and I told him I would do it later as because we were playing, on our last game which he reminded me again that he needed help I told him I would do it later, but he seems soo desperate to ask the seller and decided to ask it himself in a mad tone, which I got angry and he got angry with me saying "I'll do it myself, all ypu wanted to do just to play" which I got furious so I left the game.

Things aren't good with us recently and kept on thinking the things that I have done to him, providing him financial needs whenever he needed to without asking anything in return and even the love that he needed since everything is going rough with him so as much a possible I tried to become supportive, but in return it feels like the more I provide the lesser i get in return, I've been expecting a lot to him, maybe something more affectionate rather than giving me such sexual activities and such, even though i kept telling myself when he's happy then I'm happy but at the same time I don't feel like that.

I can't even confront him my feelings like before, can't even cry out like this in front of him, knowing nothing will happen, I've been distancing my real feelings with him, should I just leave him if this keeps happening, all the vreak prormises that he told me he would srop doing it to me, the things even the little ones he would get angry about, mybfeelings being invalidated knowing if I opened up he will get angry with me or even being dissapointed with me.

I have been struggling with negative thoughts for a couple of years now due to school trauma and bullying. In 12th grade, I had to stop attending school because I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Since then, it has been difficult for me to keep up with people. My mom doesn’t know how to help me. I was forced to transfer schools and pay for the whole semester, even though I only sometimes attended school for one or two days. My mom thinks I'm not trying, but I badly want to graduate, and it hurts when they call me lazy and say I don’t have the will to get better.

I used to be an honor student, but because of the harmful effects of what others did to me, I no longer recognize myself. I have engaged in self-harm in various ways and had to live alone. My mom thought that by sending me to a city alone, I would feel better, but it only made things worse.

I met my boyfriend, who helped me cope and inspired me to try again. I enrolled in pharmacy for two months and fell in love with it. My classmates were very kind to me, but I realized my struggle was mostly internal. I couldn’t control the thoughts of others or stop wondering if they hated my existence. I would suddenly leave the laboratory and cry at home, feeling weak. Now, I’m forced to study accounting online, which I also struggle with because I was a STEM student and find business courses difficult.

Nevertheless, I want to study pharmacy again if only I were given another chance. That field makes me feel truly fulfilled, and I believe I can thrive in it if given the opportunity.

Regarding therapy, I recently received my psychological evaluation results, and they disappointed me a little. The results were very clear, and I paid a lot for them. Now, I was told I can book a session only once or twice a month. From this schedule, I’m unsure if I can truly get better. Is this how it works?

As of now, I feel like I’m just waiting for an opportunity. I feel not good enough, and I'm dying everyday as I’m turning 20 soon.

amid the chaos of daily life, one often seeks solace and rejuvenation. recently, I found myself exploring various methods of healing meditation. this journey began as a necessity, a response to the overwhelming stress I had been experiencing. each evening, I would carve out time to disconnect from technology and immerse myself in the soothing environment of my living room. I would sit comfortably on a plush meditation cushion, dim the lights, and create a serene atmosphere by lighting a calming lavender candle. these small rituals became anchors amidst the storm of my thoughts. during meditation, I found myself focusing on my breath, allowing the rhythm of inhalation and exhalation to ground me. it is fascinating how such a simple act can bring clarity. those moments in stillness revealed patterns of anxiety that I had not fully acknowledged. 🌿 so, would it not be beneficial to embrace such practices, even if just for a few minutes each day, to promote mental well-being?

over time, I discovered that healing meditation is not merely an escape; it is an exploration of one's inner landscape. I would gently guide my mind to embrace thoughts without judgment. this process, though at times challenging, cultivated a sense of acceptance. I began to realize that healing goes beyond just relaxing. it involves confronting emotions that linger beneath the surface, allowing oneself to experience them fully. during these sessions, I would visualize vibrant colors washing over me, nurturing each lingering worry and transforming it into something more positive.✨ I ponder how many individuals bypass this opportunity for introspection. is the fear of vulnerability holding us back from true healing? while the journey may not offer immediate results, there lies the potential for profound transformation with consistent practice. embracing this path has not only enhanced my emotional resilience but also instilled a newfound appreciation for life’s simplest moments.

so I'm a very easily irritated person. I'm a little insecure about the way my body looks so I usually just take selfies. I don't like taking pictures of my body.

Today, my family and I went to this one place it was very beautiful. I told them I just wanted to take a selfie. Then my sister keeps on asking me why not, why not, I got a little irritated. Then she said that I don't even want to take pictures with my own mother. The way she talks always makes me look bad.

Now my mother is taking her side saying why did I act out. She always makes me ruin the mood. Because everyone knows how I am so they never blame my sister. They blame me because I'm the one that got mad. I never said I didn't want to take pictures I just wanted to take selfies only that's all.

And somehow I'm the problem again.

She always does this. She always pushes me to the edge. I get mad. I'm the problem.

Just because of a single picture, to them I ruined the whole experience

i started drawing again last week after months of avoiding it like the plague, and yeah, it wasn’t some miraculous recovery arc or inspirational movie moment, it was just me sitting there with my shitty pencils and a wrinkled sketchbook trying not to panic over whether the lines were “good enough” or if the proportions matched human anatomy—or whatever. no music, no cozy candles, just raw silence and this constant tightness in my chest that made me want to rip everything apart. drawing used to be easy, like second nature, something automatic; now it’s like diffusing a bomb while blindfolded. every mark feels like a risk. it’s ridiculous. i know it. “don’t overthink it,” people say, as if that ever stopped anyone with anxiety from spiraling. still, i kept going. the first one was garbage. the second looked worse. third was somehow more insulting to the art world than the first two combined. but then the fourth? it was fine. not amazing, not portfolio-worthy, but fine. and something clicked—maybe i don’t have to be amazing at it right now. maybe it’s not about perfection anymore. maybe the point is showing up at all. i kept drawing. shaking hands and all. i’ve accepted i’ll draw like trash some days and maybe, maybe less like trash on others. who cares? who’s watching? it’s my sketchbook. my mess. my battle. and i swear, the anxiety isn’t as loud when i’m focused on shading the folds of a hoodie or aligning the pupils of some weird anime eye. it’s like tricking my brain into shutting the hell up for a second and that second is gold. have you ever tried doing that? finding a task just complicated enough to trap the anxiety behind it?

funny thing is, i showed a piece to my therapist and she said, “there’s tension in your linework but also progress. it’s expressive.” i didn’t even know what the hell that meant but it made me feel less like a failure. one drawing at a time, i feel more in control. not of life, not of anxiety, but of something. and that matters. people talk about exposure therapy all the time, but they never mention that sometimes it looks like sitting in your room sketching a hand over and over until your brain lets you breathe. you want to know what helps more than affirmations and breathing exercises?? mechanical pencils. no joke. the crispness, the control, the lack of sharpening... godsend. i’m not saying art cures anxiety, don’t get it twisted. i’m saying it gives it less space to spread. you ever tried screaming with a pencil in your mouth and both hands smudged in graphite?? me neither, but that’s kinda what it feels like. controlled chaos. beautiful distraction. controlled distraction, even. i still freak out sometimes while drawing—like if the paper gets smudged wrong or if i suddenly hate the nose i’ve spent 30 minutes on—but it passes. like waves. drawing became my anchor. my unintentional mindfulness tool. not because i wanted it to be, but because it just ended up that way; the only thing keeping me grounded when my chest is tight and my mind is screaming “what if?? what if?? what if??” over and over like a broken fire alarm. i know some people use journaling or running or god forbid, talking to others—but for me, it’s this. rough lines. smudges. messy scribbles. maybe ugly, maybe not. i’m not doing this for likes or validation. i’m doing this to breathe. maybe that’s enough. maybe that’s the whole point.

its been a long time since i've realizd but i think i am fully admitting to my myself this just now that i've certainly become a failure. last time i was preparing for my exams with full enthusiasm and now that i am a 11th grader my whole life is fucking turned upside down. i ha dstarted on this ourney of preparing for an entrance exam for engineeering colleges but took the option of staying at my school which usualy doing the same thing as me (preparing for the same exam) dont do. i was confident in proving the people who toold me that staying in school won't get you your college. i was confident. because i had no one to tell me the right thing. no one to explain to me what i was setting myself up for. i was just a person with dreams who'd not thoroughly thought of the path that they'd be taking neither had they researched about this. they just took this path because it seemed cool and many people were doing it and also heard that there father's dream was to get the top college that you could get through this exam. i didnt know anything about it and just followed whatever others around me were doing. i didnt realize the seriousness of this thing. and dint give me best which i am still far from giving. i scores very well in ast year's exam that i told you about however i could do more on that too if i were just a little more serious. os now i have wasted my 2024 not studying in my school. when i look at the more serious kids around me theyre so fucking ahead of me i cant even imagine that id ever be at their level i just think i am done for and now i dont have the fucking motivation to do anything. i cant study. i just cant bring myself to do it i dont know why i just have gotten so good at procastinating and so good at just regretting things after i did the wronng stuff that i seem to not even care right now. i dont fucking know what to do and i just wanna die right now. also i couldnt bring myself to tell this to anyone despite having so many friends and pretty undertsanding parents but i just cant. and i dont know how this websiete works. i just wanna