Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Having navigated a love story that could give any romance novel a run for its money, my husband, Jake, and I have certainly had our ups and downs. We first got together when we were just 12, experienced a breakup a decade later, then spent 17 years apart before rekindling our flame three years ago. Now, we've been happily married for over two years. Jake had a significant relationship during our time apart with an ex-girlfriend, whom I'll refer to as Laura. Their relationship ended amicably about a decade ago, and Laura occasionally touches base to wish him well on milestones and holidays.

Just this past weekend, Jake and I bumped into Laura while out at a local bar. As fate would have it, we ended up sharing a table, indulging in drinks, and engaging in conversations as old acquaintances would. After a few rounds, specifically three Jack and Cokes for me, Laura made a remark that threw me off: "Well at least I'll always be your favorite girlfriend." Without missing a beat, I responded laughingly, "Wouldn't I be his favorite since I’m the one he married?" The atmosphere shifted quickly as her smile faded and she soon exited after finishing her drink.

The follow-up was a long message to Jake from Laura the next day. She expressed her shock at my supposed jealousy and immaturity and suggested I should feel more secure both within our marriage and myself. She highlighted how Jake’s regards for her as his favorite girlfriend were meaningful to her and was bewildered why I had to undermine that.

Jake, ever the peacemaker, apologized on my behalf but reiterated that my comment was simply stating the obvious — I was his chosen partner, highlighted by the fact that we're married. Laura responded again, suggesting that I believed myself superior, based solely on Jake’s change of heart about marriage. After reconnecting with me, he had transformed from a staunch bachelor to a devoted husband remarkably quickly.

Jake reassured her that my intention wasn’t to come across as superior and reaffirmed that my comment was innocuous, requesting that she refrain from speaking ill of me in the future. Despite the unwarranted drama, I had no intention of hurting anyone's feelings. After all, it's normal to consider the person you choose to marry as your favorite, isn't it?

Amidst all this, I can't help but imagine how this incident would unfold if it were part of a reality TV show. The dramatic setting in the bar, the sharp exchange of words followed by a severe text debate, would likely be key scenes, perhaps even accompanied by dramatic music and suspenseful cuts! Viewers might analyze every expression and comment, choosing sides and probably blowing the whole thing out of proportion for entertainment’s sake.

I hope I am clear in my story...

I ain't one to air my laundry, but sometimes it's freeing to just lay it all out there. life throws curveballs, and boy, did i get hit by one. my husband, bless his heart, decided to test our vows a couple years ago. cheated on me, he did. now, i ain't saying i'm perfect, but that knock knocked the wind out of me. i'm 47, been around the block, and you'd think i'd seen it all, but nothing prepares you for your partner's betrayal. it ain't easy, letting go of that kind of hurt. easy living is what i wanted, but life had other plans. by the way, how long does it really take to forgive? learned from a wise soul that, "forgiveness ain't about forgetting, but about letting go of the hold that pain has over you." and ain't that the truth? let me tell you, releasing that grip ain't a one-and-done deal.

from that day, things changed. our house felt different, like the walls knew secrets they shouldn't. "once trust is gone, it's hard to earn it back." a cliché, sure, but reality is cliches exist for a reason. tried therapy, tried talking, tried understanding the why's and how's. maybe i could've seen it coming, maybe not. questions like a spinning wheel in my head, asking, did i do enough? was i overlooking the signs? but hey, blaming myself ain't gonna fix a thing. i've learned not to carry that burden. laid it on him, rightly so. he messed up, not me. relationships are tricky business, and cautionary tales abound. but man, it hurts to be the one people wag their tongues about, even if no names are named. staying put, that's my choice, 'cause the heart and mind have minds of their own. ever been in such a dilemma yourself? if so, you'll know it's a matter of picking the pieces, even when some might be missing.

'm figuring out the whole forgive but never forget thing. my puzzle's still got gaps, and that's okay. life's not about having it all figured out, is it? daily, i remind myself of the good times, but the shadows linger. ain't saying i'm a saint, but i'm being kind to myself. "to err is human; to forgive is divine," or so they say. not divine, just human, with all the flaws and sorrows that come with it. hesitations and doubts live rent-free in my head, but that's part of the package deal called moving on. we ain't perfect, not you, not me, not my husband. but i feel you gotta let people learn from mistakes, right? and if second chances are a deal-breaker for some, who am i to judge? life's too short to hold grudges, but it sure as hell ain't too short to forget. what about you? where do you draw the line between forgiving and forgetting?

My parent won't respect me, my privacy, or my boundaries. It's not just me either, they do it with my sibling as well, crossing visible lines, testing us in ways that a parent should never do. Today, I told my parent I was changing and would have my door locked. Just minutes after I told them that, I heard them walk away from my door, then come back and unlock my door. Luckily I wasn't changing, but that's a clear boundary they crossed and privacy violation. This happened in the morning and then at night we were having another argument and then they went searching my room for no reason. I've been battling manic depression for a while and it can get difficult to maintain an organized room. They know this and have repeatedly used my 'messy' room as an excuse to punish me. They are constantly fat-shaming and food-shaming me everytime I eat, I could have eaten only one small thing and when I go to get another, they start yelling at me to stop and that i've already had one and that's enough. I tend to talk to myself a lot because at home I have no one else to talk to, they're constantly calling me crazy for talking to myself and venting to the people I've made up in my head. They ask why I don't find comfort in them or why I don't tell them things that's going on, but everytime I try to they turn it into a lecture or make it about themselves. Am I wrong for keeping my distance?

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?

man, i dont even kno what to say. like seriously, nothing matters anymore. i wake up, i do what i gotta do, i go to sleep, repeat. its all the same, every day. nuthing exciting, nuthing different, just the same boring ass life over and over. people talk about goals n dreams n all that bs but like, what for?? u work ur ass off just to be tired, just to pay bills, just to end up at the same place. so why even bother. i tried to care, i really did. but caring just make things worse bc u get disapointed, u get hurt, u get stress over things that probly dont even matter in the long run. so i stopped. now i just do what i need to do to get thru the day, nothing more, nothing less.

ppl say oh u just need to find somthing u love but what if i dont love anything. like fr, theres nothing that make me wanna get up in the morning. job? boring. school? waste of time. hobbies?? dont even have those anymore. use to try stuff, sports, music, even stupid things like learning to cook or whatever, but i sucked at all of it so whats the point. why keep trying when u kno u gonna fail. and dont even tell me "just work harder," bc working harder dont mean sh*t if u have no talent in the first place. so yeah, i gave up. not like in a dramatic way, just like, i dont put energy into anything anymore.

i see ppl all excited about stuff, making plans, talking about there future like they actually got things figured out. good for them i guess. but i dont see that happening for me. future just seem like a long ass road of more of the same bs. wake up, work, sleep, repeat. its like life is some game i never wanted to play but im stuck here anyway. so now i just stoped pretending. stoped acting like i care when i really dont. maybe one day somthing will change, maybe not. honestly? dont care either way.

I'm not the one who's hurting here—at least, not the one that's hurting the most in this situation.

A good friend of mine has recently told me that they can't keep being around me because they've fallen in love with me. I've had a few instances of suspecting this during the past few years but I always brushed it off as me misconstruing things. No other friendship has compared to what me and this girl have. She's my best friend.

I grew up with very little close friends. Most of the time, I was the floater friend and so when it came to the rare occurrence of me developing really close friendships, I'd hold on to them like they were my lifelines.

Then I met this girl. It was 2022, I believe. We've been through a lot together, confided in each other during the darkest points of 2022-2025. And this year, I felt like our friendship was really developing as we'd see each other more often to hang out. We were initially online friends and circumstance has led us to living in neighboring cities.

She's one of the greatest people I know, genuinely. When I say that there's goodness in this world, she has proven that to me.

Earlier, she texted me earlier saying that our friendship has been weighing on her because she's known for a long time that she's developed feelings.

I told her that I understood if she's taking a break from talking to me or if she's completely cutting me off because clearly, if I keep being friends with her, she'd be operating at an expense. Being friends with her will only hurt her even more. I cannot be more than a friend even if I tried. And I'm feeling like I'm losing someone who's been an integral part of my support system. I don't want to lose her but I know it's selfish of me to want to keep being friends because her needs are clearly not being met in this situation.

She's said that nobody has ever understood her the way I do and that she's struggling to see anyone else who'd reach my level of understanding of her. And objectively, I know someone else is out there that can be just as good a friend as I was to her. But she likes me. And there's nothing I can do about this.

I know that this is something she has to deal with internally, that maybe time will bring us back together. I cannot stop her and I only want her to have peace of mind even if it's at the cost of cutting me off.

But she's my best friend. I'm in a dark spot right now and my support system is literally just 3 people including her and she's the person I'm closest to. Lmao not the best, I know.

I know what will happen when she does reply to my text. I just hope it won't be goodbye.

Let me start by saying I love my wife to death and would do anything for her. Some context my wife is injured and hasn't been able to return to work for almost 3 years now, and is unable to get disability. I work at a minimum wage job full-time but hours are slow during the winter, u also have a medical condition that the doctors can't seem to find the source of or have any idea what to do about it. So money has been tight, p.s I grew up dirt poor, she comes from the middle class.

But this year has been really tough, it started in January we almost lost our house, and in February we got hit by a deer and totaled our car. At this point, things had gotten a little tense between us but we were good and were managing it the best we could. In April we lost a family member and almost lost the house again in May. This is about the time I feel like we started to not be good. We were having more arguments she was saying I don't do enough around the house. So I tried harder to do more like the errands, dishes, yard work, and any projects she wanted done, spending more time with my stepson. But I and I had stopped doing anything together at this point besides watching TV.

Around August my health had started to decline more, I got offered a job as a life insurance agent but I would have to get licensed, so with our situation, I thought this could be great. But life kept throwing us curve

balls, so I got behind on the licensing. I was still trying to do more around the house and with my stepson. This went on till about October.

I started getting depressed at the beginning of the month feeling like a failure and useless. My wife and I had finally had a much-needed talk that turned into a big fight I had brought up that we hadn't done anything together since December and that she stopped coming near me, she said she missed cuddling together and doing things together too, but was also upset that things were always getting done. After our talk things were good or so I thought.

Which brings me to now November, so last Thursday I had a pretty bad health scare, the place I worked at had to call me an ambulance and I was hospitalized, My wife was right there beside me the whole time making sure I got the medical attention I needed, and making sure the doctors were listening. My wife is my best friend and is always striving to better herself and be a good mother, even though this year has sucked.

But tonight we got into another fight this one hurt a lot. Which is why I am on here at 1 am on a work night. It all started because our toilet has not been flushing properly for almost a year. I know absolutely nothing about plumbing. So yesterday her friend came over to try and fix it (he does some plumbing a jack of all trades but master of none) just to find out we need our septic pump and the pipe that connects the toilet to the septic tank replaced. Today I had to get a brain scan and we got home around 3 pm. We had both been quiet all day, but I asked her what was bothering her she said "You don't do anything around here, you didn't even try to fix the toilet!" I replied with I do, do things around here and yes I didn't do anything about the toilet and should have tried to fix it

or take a better look at what was going on. Some other things had been brought up from both of us and she told me she was done talking because nothing changes, I replied with "yeah let's sweep it under the rug cause we seem to be getting good at that" So more things had been brought up. I said "We our partners we need to get through this together" She replied with "We haven't been partners in months " This broke me a bit. Our conversation calmed a bit after that and her best friend had come to take her out because they had plans. She got home around 11 I did a bunch around the house dishes, mopped, some yard work, and laundry. But I feel like a failure and a bit heartbroken, I haven't finished my course, my health isn't getting better, my wife doesn't want to do anything together, and I feel like I'm not good enough. I love her to death and would do anything for her and my stepson but I feel lost and like she may be ready to throw in the towel.....this isn't like us yes we've fought in the past but not this much and we always came back stronger.

if you made it to the end of this and have any advice at all it would be great to hear it

In October, a situation unfolded that has since left my daughter giving me the cold shoulder and barely speaking to me. Here's what happened: My daughter, Emily, has a part-time job she attends after school for five days each week. This Halloween, her high school hosted a costume contest, and she and her buddies decided to participate as a group. After school, they went shopping for costumes together.

I fetched Emily and her friends from the store and saw the costumes they picked out. Emily spent $80 on her costume, which immediately set me off. I felt that it was an extravagant amount to spend on an outfit she'd only wear once, for a few hours at that. I voiced my opinion right there in the car, telling her it was a waste of money. After dropping her friends off, I took Emily back to the store and insisted she return the costume and any accessories she bought.

Consequently, her friends found someone else to fill her spot in their group. They ended up winning the contest and each got a portion of a $100 Visa gift card. On Halloween, Emily returned home from school visibly upset, feeling left out from the festivities and fun her friends had. I tried explaining to her that even after the prize split, she’d have lost more money by buying the costume than she’d have gained, but she couldn't see the logic.

A month on and Emily is still upset, barely interacting with me. Her father, my ex-husband, argues that I deprived her of a memorable experience with her friends, emphasizing that her job already causes her to miss out on plenty. He believes I should've allowed her this indulgence. My intention was only to teach her the value of money and the importance of making sensible financial choices. Could a cheaper costume not have sufficed, especially since it was to be worn briefly?

Imagine if this dilemma were aired on a reality TV show. Viewers might be split, with some applauding the lesson in financial prudence while others sympathize with a teenager wanting to bond with her peers over a special occasion. The discussion might bring various parenting styles to light, each defending what they believe is the right balance between guidance and freedom.

Was I wrong in my decision to make her return the Halloween costume?

I'm a 31-year-old male and lately I've been wondering something that sounds almost counterintuitive… is it actually possible to exercise too much? I know it sounds odd—especially in a world where people are generally advised to move more, not less—but I'm starting to feel like my daily regimen is doing more harm than good. My schedule is rigid: weightlifting five days a week, high-intensity interval training three times, and long runs on the weekends. It sounds healthy, maybe even admirable to some, but my body doesn’t feel proud. It feels wrecked. My sleep is erratic, my resting heart rate is elevated, and sometimes, I wake up more tired than when I went to bed. I follow strict macro tracking and ensure hydration and supplementation are on point, yet recovery seems perpetually just out of reach. Isn't that a red flag???

There’s this constant soreness, not the good kind—the kind that doesn’t scream progress but whispers that something might be off. I’ve read and heard about “overtraining syndrome,” a state of chronic fatigue, declining performance, and increased risk of injury. I’m not saying I’ve hit that wall completely, but I do see the signs. My strength gains have plateaued, and in some cases, regressed. My joints ache. My motivation? Fading. There’s no joy anymore in pushing through sets; just obligation. It’s become less about well-being and more about control—about not missing a session out of fear I’ll lose progress. That doesn’t sound like health to me, yet I keep doing it because stopping feels worse. And the question keeps bouncing around in my head like an echo: how much is too much???

Socially, I’m becoming isolated. My friends stopped inviting me to things because they already know the answer: “I have training.” It’s almost embarrassing, the way I’ve structured my life around a routine that’s supposed to make me feel better, stronger, more resilient—but instead, it’s starting to feel like a form of self-imposed imprisonment. And I still can’t tell if I’m doing the right thing! Every time I consider taking a rest week, anxiety hits. What if I lose strength? What if I fall behind? What if I just become… average? I know that sounds dramatic, but when you invest so much time and energy into one goal, the thought of stepping away, even briefly, feels like failure. Still, I ask myself—am I really getting healthier, or am I chasing a standard that doesn’t even exist???

I’ve tried to talk to a few people about this but it’s hard to articulate without sounding weak or obsessive. Fitness is praised in every corner of life now. People admire discipline and grind and consistency. But what happens when those same things become destructive? Can you tell the difference? I can’t anymore. My life looks optimal on the outside, but it’s brittle on the inside. And maybe that’s what worries me most. I used to feel pride in what I was building. Now I feel trapped by it. Have you ever felt that way—like your own habits have turned on you? Like something you loved has started to betray you? I’m not looking for pity, just maybe a perspective. A reality check. Something to help me understand if I’m just burned out or if I’m genuinely hurting myself long-term; because I really can’t tell anymore.

I been trying to figure out how to even say this without sounding like I’m tripping over my own feet, which honestly is kinda how I write anyway, so maybe that fits. I’m 27, a guy, and for two years I been with this wonderfull dude who is so completely, wholeheartedly, intensly aligned with everything "pride." Like he waves the flag, he quotes activists like “Love is not a crime,” he goes to events, he paints tiny rainbows on plant pots for fun, and he does all that stuff with this sweet energy that should make me feel lifted but instead sometimes it just makes me shrink. Not because I don’t love him, God, I do, but because I don’t assume my gayness. I feel like I’m the opposite of pride, like a walking “don’t look at me” sign, and I wonder if anyone else ever sits in a room full of cheering people and thinks: “Is it okay that I’m scared?” He’ll smile at me in that soft way, and I keep thinking, I wish I could smile back bigger; The thing is, I wasn’t raised to be open about anything. My family doesn’t hate gay people or whatever, but it was this strange “we don’t talk about emotions” house, and I guess I inhaled all that silence like dust. So when my boyfriend says stuff like, “We should go to Pride this summer,” I can’t help panicing a little. But I wanna be polite, I wanna be a good partner, so I try to say yes even if my voice cracks. One time we were holding hands at a bus stop and this kid smiled at us, and he said it was beautifull, but I thought my heart was gonna jump out my mouth like some cartoon. Still, I’m trying, and maybe that’s something. I keep telling myself hope is a slow-growing thing, like those stubbron plants that only bloom once a year. Do you think it’s possible to love someone with your whole chest but still fear the space your love takes up in the world? Because that’s exactly where I’m standing, like on the edge of something I wanna want more confidentley. My boyfriend says I’ll get there "when I’m ready," and maybe he’s right. I’m not proud, but I’m not hopeless eitherr 🙂

Anyway, the second thing I wanted to talk about, and please don’t judge how messy this is because I warned you I’m a terrible writter, is how sometimes the simplest moments make me feel like maybe I’m changing without noticing. Like we were in the kitchen last week, burning pancackes because neither of us knows how to multitask, and he said, “Hey, you know I don’t love you because you’re proud. I love you because you’re you.” And I swear something in me cracked open but in a good way. It reminded me of that line in a book I read once, “Courage is just fear that has said its prayers,” which felt weirdly fitting even though I’m not religous. I told him about how I still feel like hiding sometimes, and he said he does too, which surprised the hell outta me because he always looks so steddy. I’m trying to hold on to that thought: even the proud ones get scared. Maybe being the opposite of pride doesn’t mean being broken, maybe it just means being in proggress. I try to take small steps: letting him kiss me in public when no one’s around, talking about my feelings even if the sentences come out crookedd, trying to breathe through the panic instead of shoving it down. And I wanna be polite to myself too, which I’m learning is harder than being polite to other people. So here I am, asking you, any of you reading, do you think someone like me can someday stand next to someone like him without feeling like I’m a shadow next to a fire? I’m hopeful. I really am. Even if my hope still feels like a begginer...

I don't even know if this counts as a story, but I'm gonna put it here anyways. I've been productive all week in terms of schoolwork! Supposedly good, right? Wrong, cuz apparently I haven't been productive enough, and I still have a ton of stuff to do! Even worse, all the due dates are lining up to be tomorrow at midnight. Not stressful at all. Definitely not. Definitely not paralyzed by it all, and thus driving myself into an even worse hole. Two enthusiastic thumbs up...

I'm up for any tips to help, like legit anything.

And here's the question ig: What would ya'll think if this was in a reality show?

My partner, Dan, has two wonderful little ones, Lily who's 4, and Max who recently turned 2, from a previous relationship. They're always with us since their mother left when Max was merely 4 weeks old, showing little to no interest in keeping in touch.

Recently, being 16 weeks into my own pregnancy, Dan and I decided a brief getaway before our new baby's arrival was essential. My mother agreed to look after Lily, Max, and our dog at our place while we took our weekend escape. Although she's been a reliable sitter for quick date nights or other short bursts when we needed help, this time around things didn’t go as smoothly.

Max is currently in a particularly fussy phase of toddlerhood where his breakfast must consist of semi-frozen berry Eggo waffles — no exceptions. He won't even touch them if they've been heated. Normally, I pull out a waffle from the freezer early in the morning to let it thaw just enough to remain slightly chilled, as he prefers. It’s not the breakfast of champions, but it saves us from a morning meltdown.

Prior to our departure, I detailed our kids’ routines in a note for my mom, highlighting their meal and sleep schedules to ensure consistency. However, on the first morning away, she rang up frustrated that Max was rejecting the scrambled eggs she prepared, not adhering to his current peculiar eating habit. I reiterated that Max would only eat the waffles as they were, but she dismissed it, claiming it wasn’t a healthy enough breakfast and that he needed to adapt to more suitable eating habits.

For the remainder of our trip, she ceased updating me about breakfast, but during a phone call, Lily nonchalantly mentioned that grandma was pretending the waffles were gone—even though Lily herself spotted them earlier. Prying further, I discovered Max was sometimes given just grapes, or skipped breakfast altogether. I immediately had Lily hand the phone over to my mom, instructing her firmly to stop withholding the waffles or risk losing her babysitting privileges. Reluctantly, she complied, but not without asserting that we were spoiling the children and overly indulging their whims.

Moreover, my mom and Lily clashed over her choice of attire; Lily loves picking her own outfits, leading to some quirky combinations like a mismatched pajama ensemble and tiara to daycare. My mom disapproved, wanting her dressed more traditionally for outings.

Back from our trip, amidst ongoing critical comments about our parenting choices from my mother, from waffles to wardrobe, and threats of limiting her time with the kids, I’m left questioning if my stance on the frozen waffles is turning us into overly permissive parents or if it’s just asserting a necessary boundary.

On a side note, I can only imagine the drama and scrutiny if our family dynamics were under the microscope of a reality TV show. Would the public side with my mom’s traditional views, or would they empathize with the challenges of managing toddlers with strong preferences?

(dont mind my terrible spelling)

My inner void

By: Samuel Ison

And then i fall. and fall. and fall. and fall. and fall. death isnt what i thought it would be. my life isnt falshing before my eyes. im not crying. im not angry that this is how it ends. th whole world is burning around me. we fucked up the whole world. for once i dont feel what i used to feel. i dont feel angry at myself. i dont feel gultiy about things i couldnt change. for the first time im not wondering about what death feels like. im not wondering anything. im not wondering why im falling for so long. i dont know what this feeling is. falling. forever. it feels nice. death isnt what i thought it would be. I dont see 'the light'. i dont see all my memories replaying in my head. I dont see my dead loved ones. i dont see a glimpse of heaven. or hell. I cant hear anything. the wind is rushing all around me. and then. nothing. peace. i dont wake up as a new person. i dont see any ghosts or people. i dont see heaven or hell. i dont see god. i dont see jesus. i see fog. all around. i cant see whats behind me or in front of me. except a road. im walking down the road. the road seems to go on forever. i keep walking. its peaceful. its just me, the road, and the fog. who am i? do i really even care? where am i? i dont really care. what is this place? i really dont care. what did i leave behind? choas. i always wake up from this dream right about now. I dont wake up crying or screaming or sweating. i wake up perfectly fine. i think my body makes me wake up befor i truly walk into the unknown. death perhaps. maybe if i keep walking...i wouldnt wake up again. now tell me this. why am i not scared of that?

I want someone to text me everyday 'are you ok?' and if i reply with 'no' then they simply say 'ok'. thats it. i dont want them to have pity on me. i just want somone to know. i want someone to want to know and when i tell them they dont pry. they dont ask anything. they just say 'ok'. is that to much to ask?

you know whats funny? when i cut myself the first time i wasnt crying or having a mental breakdown or at my lowest. i was watching fucking desendents at midnight and i had just thought. 'i wonder what it feels like?' so i grabbed a thumbtack and sratched my skin until it bled. i didnt feel anything. it didnt hurt like it should have. i didnt cry afterwards either. i didnt regret doing it and i still kinda dont. i didnt even flinch as i scraped off my skin until it bled. then i just stared at it. i didnt have any reaction to seeing my blood on that thumbtack or the blood coming from my arm. another time that i cut myself on my thigh i didnt have a reaction then either. i didnt even flinch the tiniest bit. and thats what keeps me up at night because i know that if i did that to anyone else. even a stranger. i would do anything to take it back. i would say im sorry until i couldnt speak. i would cry and scream at myself. i would hate myself forever for doing something like that. but if my best friend held a gun to my head i wouldnt even flinch. i would apoligize for doing something that made her have to go to all the trouble of having to kill me. and then in the end i would probably ask her to hand me the gun so i could shoot myself so that she wouldnt be charged for murder or have the burden of killing me. like the song goes 'you could slit my throat and in my my last gasping breath i would apolgize for bleeding on your shirt- your so last summer by taking sunday back'

its 4:34am right now. im so tired. but sleep isnt an option anymore. im haulcinating. bugs. bugs everywhere. STOP. LET ME SLEEP. and my brain says "no." my brain says "not until the sun is up." stop. let me sleep. and my brain says "no."

its 4:44am right now. im so tired. but sleep isnt an option anymore. im haulcinating. bugs. bugs everywhere. STOP. LET ME SLEEP. and my brain says "no." my brain says "not until the sun is up." stop. let me sleep. and my brain says "no.

All the time i always do my best to reach out and build connections with people. But most of it i just got ignored until one dah i reached the point where i’m so dont with building the connection with people and suddenly people think i am the bad one for not initiating things and reach out first? Like i’m jusy so tired and honestly gave up with interpersonal relationships

so my parents keep asking me to leave the house and start my own life, but honestly, i can barely get out of bed in the morning. i’m not lazy or anything, i just feel stuck, like there’s a weight on me that won’t budge. i wake up, look at my phone, and realize there’s nothing waiting for me except a long list of things i don’t want to do. it’s not depression or anything—at least i don’t think so—but it’s like i’m in this weird limbo where i know what i should be doing but i just can’t bring myself to start. i’m 21 and my parents are right, i can’t just keep lying here, but the thought of job applications or interviews just makes me want to roll over and pull the covers back up. it’s not that i don’t care; it’s more that i don’t know how to care anymore, you know? 😕

some mornings, i set my alarm and i’m determined to get up early, maybe make some breakfast, even go for a run or something. but when that alarm goes off, my brain just shuts it out, like “what’s the point?” i tell myself i’ll get up in five minutes, but then it’s noon and i’m still scrolling on my phone. my parents come in, knock on my door, and start their usual speeches about responsibility and adulthood and how i need to contribute to the world. i nod along because they’re not wrong, but i just can’t seem to find the motivation. it’s like my body’s in bed but my mind’s trapped somewhere else, somewhere far away from all this.

i think the hardest part is feeling like i’ve already failed before i’ve even started. i see my friends posting about new jobs, internships, moving out of their parents’ houses, and i’m just here wondering how they even found the energy to get dressed. it’s not jealousy exactly, more like confusion. how do they do it? how do they make it look so easy to just get up and go? i wish someone would explain the secret, because it feels like i missed the memo or skipped the part of life where you learn how to deal with responsibilities. i don’t want to be the guy who never leaves his parents’ house, but i also don’t know how to change that. 😩

so yeah, how do you get out of bed in the morning when everything feels heavy and pointless? is there some trick i’m missing? i know it’s not just me feeling like this, but it feels like everyone else figured it out except me. i want to start living my own life, get my own place, have something to look forward to, but every morning i wake up and it’s like i’ve hit the snooze button on my own future. maybe tomorrow will be different, but maybe it won’t. i don’t know. do you? 🤔