Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I want to start this off by saying that my dad isn't too bad most of the time. most of what he does, he does because he thinks it is the best thing for us. and a lot of the issues that I have with him are caused by the way that he was raised. I do love my dad, but sometimes he does things that hurt me a lot emotionally, even if it is unintentional.

the thing that I am really upset about right now is that he just threatened to shoot my dogs. I have a couple dogs that live inside the house. one of them has some issues with going potty inside the house. this is largely in part due to the fact that the lady who owned my dog before me never took her dogs outside, and trained them to use a litter box i side the house. now my dog never wants to go outside, but we do the best we can to make sure that she spends enough time out there. that being said, she still makes a mess I side every now and then. it is certainly not ideal, but i clean it up and move on with the day. well, today, she had another one of those accidents and my dad found it. he got all pissed off and threatened to unlike both of my dogs. I doubt he would even actually do this, but it still really hurts to have to picture my life without them in it. I love them so much, and I can't understand why he would threaten to take that away. he saw how hurt I was when our past dog passed. I could barely function, and I still miss her every day. I know that he thinks that saying that is just tough love and will make the problem better, but all that it does is cause unnecessary hurt and resentment. I wish I could talk to him about this, but he is the kind of person who doesn't want to listen to his teenage daughter once he gets an idea in his head because he wants to be the man of the house. I have tried talking to him about these issues, but he never listens. so I have just given up. I know he doesn't mean anything by it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. especially since he knows how hurt I would be if anything happened to them.

the second big issue that I need to talk about is the church that he makes us go to. it is a Christian church, but it is horrible. it uses heavy fear mongering tactics, while preaching about love. the church is also quite sexist. they talk about love all the time, yet anytime anyone stops going to church or believes something different, they will turn their backs on them. I have grown up seeing my cousins stop going to church, and then hearing my family talk about how they are going down the wrong path and how terrible it is. they act like the worst thing a person could do is stop going to church. then when someone tries to ask a question and understand what is going on, they aren't met with love. they are met with yelling and anger because they are questioning the church. this to me seems the opposite of love and understanding. then, people preach about how we are worthless and there is no other good church out there. they also have extremely strict rules that if you don't follow, will keep you out of heaven. and of course, those rules are more strict for women. we are judged for not dressing a certain way, or for even being outgoing and vocal about your opinions. I can't wait to leave the stupid church, but i know that my dad is going to be upset with me. and then I am going to have to explain why I left, which is going to be terrifying. so unfortunately, I am stuck until I move out. I don't think he would disown me or anything for leaving, but he would definitely be upset. and I already know exactly how they are going to gossip about me. and don't get me wrong, religion has done a lot of good for a lot of people. but it has also been used as a tool to hurt and control a lot of people. I was brainwashed for the longest time to believe that I had such a wonderful family, and that I was so lucky that I was born into this church. then I started to realize how messed up everything was, and how messed up my extended family is that goes there. I don't have time to get into all the details right now, but just know that it is really bad. now, I can't stand anything to do with religion. it has been shoved down my throat so much all my life, that I can't have anything to do with it. which is tough because I would love to be part of a good, loving church community, but I just can't do that right now, and probably won't be able to for a long time. anyway, thanks for reading all of this, I hope you have a great day

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and to be honest, I’m a bit confused. I’m a 28-year-old guy who identifies as bisexual, but I keep hearing people talking about pansexuality and it’s making me question what I really know about my own identity. I mean, I’ve always thought of bisexuality as being attracted to two or more genders, while pansexuality seems to be more about being attracted to people regardless of gender. But does that mean pansexuals are more open, or am I just overthinking this? Like, can you even clearly define the difference between the two, or are they just different labels people use to describe similar feelings? I’ve had friends tell me that it really comes down to personal choice and how someone relates to their own attractions, but I don’t want to assume that my experience as bisexual is the same as someone else’s experience as pansexual. It’s honestly exhausting, and maybe I need to just chill out a bit, but these identities feel so fluid and I just want to understand them better.

I remember talking to this girl I met at a party who identified as pansexual, and it was kind of an enlightening experience. She talked about how she feels attracted to people based on their personality over their gender. It made me think about my own preferences and if I truly limit myself, or if I'm just as open as she is but with a different label. Sometimes I catch myself questioning if there’s a right way to identify, like should I be more fluid or should I stick to how I’ve identified for years? It’s frustrating because I certainly don’t want to misrepresent myself, but it also feels like there’s this constant pressure to define myself in a way that makes sense to others. Are these labels helping us connect, or are we just complicating things? If you’re reading this, what do you all think? Is there really a significant difference between being bisexual and pansexual, or is it just a matter of semantics? What’s your experience with these identities?

Im sometimes tired of school that my parents always compare my excellence to other people im rlly tired of this

WARNING: It can be triggering for people with ED, I am not sure tho, sorry this is my first time venting to someone.

I am a 17yo and ever since I remember I hated myself and wanted to lose weight, I was one of the largest girls in class and all my friends were skinny and beautiful. Nobody has ever loved me, called me beautiful etc.. I have been trying to lose weigh since I was 10 I thinks, but I can't, idk why. I hate myself so much, I hate the feeling of my body, I want to cry when I feel my stomach while lying on the bed. I want to feel beautiful but I can't until I lose weight, but I can't lose weight and it's makes me so depressed everyday.

hey there, just wanted to spill my heart a bit, if that's alright. i'm 51, lost my husband and my son in a car crash. life's just feeling empty and pointless right now. ever felt like that? it's like every day is a struggle to get out of bed. they were everything, my love, my life, my rock. i feel like i'm just floating through the days, you know? trying to keep it together, but it's tough, really tough. it's like i'm watching my life from the sidelines and not really living it. i'm trying to hang in there, but sometimes, i just don't want to live anymore. do you ever feel like you're screaming inside and no one's hearing you? it's like a big hole inside my heart and no matter what i do, i can't fill it.

i try to be strong, but i'm honestly just really tired. tired of crying alone, tired of pretending i'm okay. i miss them so much it physically hurts. ever feel that way? folks say it gets better with time, but it's hard to believe right now. can't even honestly remember what happiness feels like. i just keep asking, what's the point of all this? i'm not bitter, just numb. i do try to focus on small things, like a cup of coffee in the morning or a good book, trying to find a spark of joy. anyway, thanks for reading this. i know folks have it tougher, and i'm trying to keep my chin up. just felt like sharing, maybe you can relate or share a kind word...

My parents have a big heart for all of us, but it seems like they always give my brother, who isn't exactly the most successful, more breaks than the rest of us. He's nearly 30 and hasn't managed to stick to a stable career path; instead, he floats from one temporary gig to another, often in positions that require minimal skill and pay just as little.

Whenever I upgrade to a new car, I pass my old vehicles down to my parents instead of selling them. I’m fortunate enough to be in a financial position where I don't have to worry about the resale value. Typically, these cars are about six years old with around 30,000 miles on them as I don’t drive them much.

A while back, I gave my parents a fully-equipped Jeep Patriot that I could have sold for $9,000. Instead, I let my father have it for just $1. Six months later, he handed it over to my brother, who then sold it for $12,000. My intention was for my parents to benefit from a reliable car without the burden of upkeep, not for my brother to make a profit.

Recently, I purchased a new Broninus and decided to set a different rule for transferring my Ram to my parents. I proposed a contractual agreement stating that if they sold the car within five years, they would need to sell it back to me for $1. They reacted badly, accusing me of treating them like children and insisting they should be able to do whatever they wanted once it was theirs.

Seeing their point, I sold the Ram privately for $27,000 and used that to help pay for the Broninus. When my dad inquired about when I'd be delivering the truck, I informed him I had already sold it. Now, my parents are disappointed and stuck with their old, less reliable Kia. They feel like I've reneged on a promise, even though I never actually promised them the truck—just proposed a possible arrangement.

Honestly, it’s tough trying to help when it feels unappreciated or taken advantage of. It's frustrating when efforts to assist are twisted into expectations.

Imagine if this drama unfolded on a reality TV show; the dynamics and disputes would surely captivate an audience. Viewers might be split, with some sympathizing with my attempts to manage family expectations and others perhaps seeing me as overly controlling or stingy. The family deliberations, confrontations over the vehicles, and negotiations around the contracts would make for emotionally charged episodes, drawing viewers deeper into the familial tensions and ethical dilemmas.

ok so if your that one guy who knows me irl YOU BETTER NOT FREAKING TELL ANYONE IF YOU SEE THIS I WILL SLAP YOU well not really but if tell anyone I swear-

so I like someone (we'll call her Imogen)

my feelings for her have been on/off since like sixth grade but at the beginning of this year, our 8th grade year, they came back and stayed.

for a while I ignored them, because in 7th she got a girlfriend (Jaron) (YES I AM USING NAMES FROM A BOOK SERIES-)

but then my feelings got a bit stronger but I continued to ignore them

but then she and Jaron started dating Amarinda (it's polyamorous) and it stung when I found out and I couldn't explain why.

but now it's gotten so much worse because Imogen and Amarinda look so happy together and it makes my heart ache for two reasons, because I like Imogen and because I'm lonely.

but i know imogen will never feel the same about me and it's tearing me up inside even though I know it's true.

and all this hurts for another reason: because I have a strong suspicion that my best friend, Trea, has a crush on me, and today basically confirmed it even though she hasn't said it.

Honestly though, Imogen probably has already guessed that I like her since I've liked her on/off since I met her, but if she doesn't know then idk what to do.

There's literally nobody I can talk to about this, not Trea definitely, not our other friend Mott, and not my friend (who's on this site) Roden. I can't tell Trea because, well, if she likes me I don't want to hurt her. I can't tell Mott because I can't trust that he won't tell Amarinda or Jaron (idrc if Imogen knows, she has a right to know how I feel). and I can't tell Roden because I just feel like he wouldn't understand.

I really just don't know what to do. Do I tell Imogen how I feel, and just deal with the inevitable disappointment that comes with unrequited love, or do I suffer in silence and just assume she's already guessed it? or could I trust Mott or Roden to let her know how I feel?

And Roden, you're on this site, so if you read this, don't tell ANYONE unless I tell you you can, ok? please.

Lately I feel like I live with someone who has already decided I’m the villain before I even open my mouth. My daughter is fifteen, and I know, I know, people love to say, “Teen girls are hard,” like that sentence is supposed to cover everything, but some days the way she talks to me honestly feels personal. I’ll ask something normal like, “Hey, did you finish your homework?” or “Can you put your plate in the sink?” and she’ll hit me with this exhausted eye roll and that sarcastic little “Oh my God, can you not?” like I just ruined her entire life by existing in the kitchen at the same time as her. It sounds small when I type it out, but when it happens over and over, morning to night, it wears you down. Last week I reminded her to bring a jacket because it was cold, and she snapped, “I’m not five, stop acting like you own me.” I wasn’t even trying to control her, I was literally just being a mom. Then later that same day, she texted me asking if I could drop off the charger she forgot, and of course I did, because that’s what I do, but she barely looked at me when I showed up. She just grabbed it, muttered “thanks,” and ran back inside. I sat in the parking lot after that and thought, wow, when did basic kindness become too much to ask for? The messed up part is that she’s not like this with everyone. Her friends think she’s hilarious. Teachers say she’s “spirited” and “smart,” and family members still call her sweet because she can turn it on when she wants to. So then I start wondering if this is just what she saves for me because I’m the safe person, or if she actually resents me in some deeper way and I’m too clueless to see it. People say, “She’ll grow out of it,” and maybe they’re right, but that doesn’t really help in the moment when your own kid is talking to you like you’re some annoying coworker she hates. And yes, before anyone jumps in, I have tried being softer, stricter, more patient, less naggy, more understanding, giving space, having heart-to-hearts, all of it. I even told her once, very calmly, “You don’t have to like me every second, but you do have to speak to me with respect,” and she laughed, which somehow felt worse than yelling. Maybe some of you have been here too;

What makes it harder is that I’m not pretending I’m some perfect parent who has never messed up. I have lost my temper. I have repeated myself too much. I have probably asked too many questions when she clearly wanted to be left alone, and I know teenagers hear concern as criticism half the time. When I was her age, I thought my own mom was “doing the most” over everything, and I definitely said a few nasty things I wish I could take back, so part of me tries to remember that and stay fair. Still, there’s a difference between normal teenage attitude and feeling like your child has contempt for you. A few nights ago we were in the car and I asked how school was, just trying to connect, and she said, “Why do you always act fake interested?” That one really got me, because I am interested. I know the names of her friends, the teacher she can’t stand, the singer she has on repeat, the fact that she likes her toast barely toasted, the way she gets quiet when something is really wrong even if she says she’s “fine.” I carry all these tiny details because I love her, and yet somehow I’m the person she talks to the worst. Her dad says not to take it so personally and that she’s pushing boundaries, testing independence, all the classic parenting-book stuff, and maybe he’s right, but he also doesn’t get the full blast of it like I do. There are these random good moments that keep me from going completely bitter, like when she fell asleep on the couch last month and still looked like my little kid for a second, or when she showed me a dumb meme and laughed so hard she snorted, or when she had a rough day and let me rub her back without shrugging me off. Those moments make me think the real her is still in there, and maybe this is just a brutal phase neither of us knows how to handle. But I wont lie, it hurts. It hurts to be the person making the meals, buying the shampoo, remembering the dentist appointment, staying up until she gets home, and then getting treated like I’m this huge problem. Has anyone else had a daughter act like this and then eventually come back around, or is there something I’m missing here? I’m trying really hard to stay balanced and not turn this into a “kids these days” rant, because I do think being a teenager right now looks exhausting in ways my generation didn’t deal with. But I’m also a human being, and some nights after she goes to her room, I just sit there thinking, why is my teenage daughter so mean to me?

I’ve been married for five years, and for most of that time, it truly felt like I was living in a dream. We rarely fought, shared the same values, and were building a life together that felt stable, even joyful. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her.

But everything changed last year when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It was aggressive. We tried everything — surgery, chemo, second opinions — but none of it helped. Now we’ve moved into palliative care. The focus is no longer on saving her, just on easing the pain.

A few weeks ago, she sat me down and told me something I wasn’t expecting. She said she had reconnected with her ex-boyfriend after her diagnosis. That at first, it was just talking — reminiscing, catching up — but over time, she realized she still had feelings for him. She told me she still loved me, but that she also loved him. And now, in what may be the final months of her life, she wanted to explore that connection again — not instead of me, but alongside me. She asked me to support her in it.

I asked if she had cheated, and she swore she hadn’t. She said it’s just been emotional, not physical. But I couldn’t shake what it meant. I tried to understand. I told her she was free to do what she wanted — I wouldn't make this any harder by talking about separation or divorce — but I also told her that I couldn’t keep pretending we were still the same couple. I couldn’t hold onto the version of us I thought was real, not with this hanging between us. Something had broken.

She was hurt, and I get why. She ended up going to stay with her parents. Since then, most of the people around me have turned cold. They see me as the one who walked away, the one who abandoned her when she needed support most. And maybe that’s true. Maybe I should’ve found a way to just accept it — to be there, unconditionally, knowing this is the end. But I couldn’t. I still can’t.

It's all coming apart, and it is my fault.

So about 3 weeks ago me and my friend and I decided to go to a pool hall well I was already in my pajama pants and a jacket (what I usually wear at night time) the pajama pants are like a extremly plush fuzzy material and the jacket was a super soft fleece I just simply enjoy being comfortable when im at home lol reason im going into detail about what I was wearing is because when we got too the pool hall everything was cool for a couple hours until my friend started talking smack to some guy well the guy pushes my friend and when he did I jumped between them and when I did my pool stick fell out of my hands and was laying on the ground. Well when I stepped between them I just so happened to be standing over the pool stick and 2 guys picked the pool stick up at the same time and racked yanked up hitting me dead in the middle of my balls I remember feeling the stick literally splitting my balls in half I remember looking down and seeing the fuzzy pants and the outline of my balls around the stick and the guy that was behind me rubbed my shoulder and said "you got a nice soft jacket on oh and your pants look soft too" and when he said that he reached down and twisted my dick while the pool stick was still between my legs i remember moaning extremly loud and grunting while he twisted and squeezed also at the same time yanking the pool stick up higher into my balls he finally let go and I dropped too my knees instantly I was extremly sore for about 3 days and my girl friend is extremly sexual and is still asking why I didnt wanna have sex for that week and she loves my pants and jacket i really dont know how too explain this to her

I'm more than sure that I wasn't born for this

Whatever it means

I can do better

I don't know how

But I know deep down that I can do better

I'm tired

First time doing this so bare with me.

I have a hard time forming connections with people, and when I do, I keep them at arms length. At first I thought I was just socially anxious I am but. The more I think about it and trauma around my past. I feel like if I form any deep connections with other people, I feel like if I expose my past (that's filled with abuse from family members) I believe they will take advantage of me or they'll view me as something that I know I'm not. But, feels confirming and believable, I feel like I am used and broken, and no one wants to hang out with a broken person like me so I just keep it in until it burst out and everyone stops and looks. "Like wow a stable guy in my life turns out to be a emotional loser." I don't vent to anyone and if I do it's just simple things in life to be negative about. But my trauma is borderline some kids edgy character backstory on deviantart. So in turn it's too much to handle. I feel too much to handle. I feel like I need to prove my worth over and over, like I am worth loving and given attention. But, some days I feel like an annoying abused dog, I get happy and I get excited when I see someone but if something triggers me I bark and bite. I feel too much and trying to get help, but with me always pushing away people I have no support group and just professionals that are just there to be professionals. I pushed away my recent ex because she hurt me but I feel like I ruined everything for getting hurt. I don't know, everything feels confusing but I know I will eventually get better but it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, you know?

I don't know where else to vent, I feel like I've unloaded enough on a friend of mine and don't want to burden him any longer so...

My Grandma passed away not too long ago and there's some drama going on about the will. Apparently, some aunts and uncles have been manipulating Grandma to give them more things or be given things that other people have taken better care of. Like my cousin wanted to buy Grandma's house after she was moved out of it and she was willing to sell. But then some aunts got in her ear and made her make my cousin pay more for the house. One of the aunts said I would be named in the inheritance, my Mom thinks it's because Dad died and his portion would be split with his kids. She told me not to sign off on anything.

Then again I've heard her non-stop complaining about everything about Dad's side of the family which increased after he died. Pretty much have been discouraged from talking to anyone other than a select few she likes. Part of me understands considering some drama but also feel like she doesn't have the best judgement. She tends to talk down to me even though I'm an adult now and constantly calls me wet behind the ears even when I express interest in going outside my comfort zone and doing new experiences to be not so wet. But of course, she's the Mom and I'm the child so in her opinion she seems to know everything and she's always right, and I'm always wrong. When she asked for my credit card password and I said no she was all "Thank you for trusting me." But who in their right mind would share their credit card password with anyone? Who knows where that info will end up? Then there was the time in high school when I started having a tough time and asked if I could go to the doctor's to see if I had depression. But of course, she said no, I didn't have depression because I didn't act like she did when she had depression. Later I would get so nervous about school that I would get physically ill and I eventually called the doctor myself. And what do you know, I was prescribed anti-depressants. Recently, I was diagnosed with blood clots in my lungs but before that, I had a really bad cold that even took away my voice for a bit. But one night it got so bad I couldn't sleep and my chest was in serious pain. I had a bad feeling so I called 811, they suggested I get Mom to take me to a hospital. I tried to get her to but she refused, insisting it wasn't that serious. But it didn't get better and after half an hour I called a cab to take me to the hospital. There I was diagnosed with pneumonia and stayed there for just over a week, even spent two days in the ICU. When Mom finally came she was all apologetic but when I was checked out I learned she told relatives and friends the reason she didn't take me was because I wasn't clear enough. Even though both the 811 operator and cab driver saw it was urgent and that I was having trouble breathing. It was clear enough for them but not for her?

I believe she thinks I'm a goddamn idiot and so naive I need to have my hand held for every goddamn thing. If I could move out and cut out most people from the family I could but apparently I was hit with anti-employer spray because I can't get a job in my field to save my life. I feel useless but also feel like I could snap at any second. When I tell Mom how I feel, she turns it around and says it's my own fault for feeling that way. When I tell my siblings they either go on about how both sides are to blame or take Mom's side. The same Mom that screamed at them for other things, including one where she threatened to disinherit one of them from Dad's will for not doing what she wants. Granted it involved staying with a not-so-great romantic partner but her having a fucking meltdown only pushed that sibling further into the arms of the fucking creep so it took longer for my sibling to finally break it off with that jerk.

I do have a therapist that I talk to but he's not cheap and I leave still feeling furious. He does give good advice but I never feel myself in the right headspace to act on said advice.

It feels like I'm in a fucking soap opera only the people around me seem to think I'm oblivious to the whole shitshow. It feels like I'm one bad day away from exploding and I don't know how to defuse this timebomb.

I've been married to my husband for 20 years. That's a whopping two decades of sharing life, love, and endless bickering over the remote control. People often talk about empathy in relationships: being attuned to each other's emotions, understanding their partner's unspoken needs, and just generally being all-around mind-readers and soul-soothers. But here's the kicker—I sometimes wonder if I'm even capable of being a good partner, let alone some sort of empathic wizard.

What kind of empath am I, if at all?!?! I mean, sure, empathy isn't just about shedding a tear during a sappy movie or patting someone’s back when they're upset. It's deeper, more subtle, and hey, pretty demanding. The truth is, I’ve spent ages trying to wrap my head around it. Am I supposed to have a PhD in psychic vibes, or what??? My husband, bless his soul, always says I’ve got a knack for tuning into his feelings.

But here's the rub—I don't feel it. It's like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that refuse to fit. I don't always get when he’s mad until he’s loud enough to startle the cat. Does this mean I’m emotionally tone-deaf? I read somewhere that "true empathy involves standing in someone else's shoes." What if I'm over here wandering around barefoot because I can't find the damn shoes???

So, I'm throwing this out there—am I alone in this empathy-challenged boat? Who else is grasping for straws in the feelings department? Please tell me I’m not the worst wife on the planet. After all, we've made it this far, and that counts for something, right??? Maybe being an "empath" is overrated, or maybe I just need more hands-on training. But hey, they say awareness is the first step, right? Maybe there's hope for me yet. Stay tuned.

I feel that privacy is a fundamental point in everyone's life, and not everyone values ​​it because it is precisely in this space where the free development of ideas can occur. Privacy is ours when there is a set of circumstances that are constant over time, and whose alteration in the future is impossible from the present, unless there is an external circumstance that prevents it, and of course, it is exceptional in nature.

I remember an aunt who didn't value privacy because she initially based her way of being on judging, of course in part, my way of being based on conversations she had with third parties. Without a doubt, I wondered why she held these opinions if she wasn't part of them. She, along with my relatives, always liked family to be a certain way, and for another, the principles they held dear to them to be maintained outside of their control, as when interacting with them. Ironically, for the former, it was one thing, and for the latter, another.

I'm very expressive, since lately I've been constantly expressing my emotions, and that has given my life an interesting twist. It's impressive how much an event can lead me to develop, to the point where I've longed, I confess, to distance myself from anything that impacts my way of life. That is, I seek to be as constant as possible under certain circumstances, leading me to the point of not seeking out relationships that lead me to new experiences. I recognize that this is why, for some time now, I've been single: the fact that I'm a person who generates numerous ideas.

I like to be in constant circumstances, and although they also generate ideas, they turn into a constant deepening of them, leading me to see things more holistically, that is, interconnecting parts of one thing and interconnecting these things with another. When an eventuality arises that disrupts my routine, that is, such constant circumstances, they lead me to break with those ties, or at least with that structuring, temporarily, of course. Indeed, I know that issues outside of routine are fruitful, however, the point is that one was aiming for a certain path and it was derailed, that's what bothers me.

I have to admit it too, I feel that everything affects me. I'm not like other people, at least within their perceptions of themselves, and of course I'm talking about the group around me. I feel things with an intensity that is overwhelming to me. It's like feeling like those individuals, within the notion I have of them, who call themselves highly sensitive people. However, on this point I prefer not to argue. Although I have to admit that perhaps this lifestyle, where I always express everything I feel, is ultimately a mechanism of pressure on myself, simply for the sake of doing this exercise, to observe every detail and take action, something my family members engaged in.

My family members were simply perfectionists. They observed everything I did and retaliated accordingly. Any deviation was worthy of reproach. For me, it stems from their high anxiety about unforeseen consequences in their environment. This is the issue that drives me to constantly express myself precisely because the events of my life have led me to encounter surprises, just when I thought I was headed in a different direction. I recognize that such an effort to stay within the same routine satisfies this need. Furthermore, since it results in a form of interaction with others given my absence, it is an achievement for me with my environment. That is, I have achieved a certain path with it, which is that they do not interfere with it. Opening up has allowed me to focus on my feelings, on what I feel, and to feel, in some way, even in the midst of this type of interaction, safe with others. It makes me forget their actions, just as they also forget the interaction they had with me. In fact, this is what has caused me, even if it doesn't happen, to avoid the spaces they frequent.

I had never before faced this reality: the reason for my loneliness. By opening up, by staying within this safety zone, I have also managed to sustain it at all costs, because with the delicacy involved in social relationships, it is easy to be left alone. That is precisely what I have sought social security because I have felt it is the only thing I can achieve with others. Indeed, the events will be varied and there will be lowered expectations, but that leads me to shelter in my isolation and protect it. That is, I carry out processes that lead me to places I know I'm going to reach, something that didn't happen before. I repeat, it's my only successful social interaction...