Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I didn't know where else to put this, so I apologize if this is in the wrong category.

I got herpes from kissing my former boyfriend, at 17. When I told my mom, she yelled at me saying that's "what I get for being fast." Now she acts like it's no big deal, but I still remember how it made me feel like shit. Now I am 21 and identify as a lesbian. My mental health is so much worse since coming to that conclusion. Not only do I have a small dating pool due to being a lesbian, but now I have to deal with an even smaller dating pool due to having an STI. People say to just date other people who have herpes but that is nearly impossible when lesbians have the lowest rates of STIs. To be clear this is not a bad thing, I'm just explaining how isolating it can be for people like me and how it's not as simple as dating other women who have it. To add insult to injury, I have been diagnosed with a "mood disorder" (possible personality disorder as well). I have been dealing with this since childhood, not being able to explain what I was going through. This disorder has made me ruin all of my relationships, even while on antidepressants. I'm in therapy now, but being isolated has worn away at my hope that I will ever be well enough to be in a healthy relationship or have healthy friendships. This is not even factoring in current events that's make people in general focus less on romantic (or platonic) relationships and more on direct action/organized activism, rightfully so. I feel like I'm going to be alone forever: who would want to deal with my baggage?! I oscillate between thinking I'm better off gone, and thinking I could definitely continue to live...in a psych hospital.

Basically, when I was 13-17, I did alot of terrible things online such as essentially repeatedly bullying others in an attempt of "trolling", making terrible jokes against groups of people (even if most were in private places where everyone knew it was a joke) and also mentioning NSFW topics or making NSFW jokes in groups with some younger people in it, even if again, everyone there knew it was either a joke or not directed at them, and they weren't uncomfortable with it or anything. When I was 17, I kept feeling worse and worse about myself and eventually tried killing myself. I failed with that and only ended up in the hospital. Now I'm 18, I fully apologized for everything, got therapy, and even got along with some of the people I used to bully back then and even managed to do some small things to make up for what I did for a few. However, I still feel terrible that people will keep beating on me for my past and that I won't be accepted in alot of places or communities for it and it makes me wish I died so I wouldn't have to deal with my life anymore as I have a feeling I messed up my life and will eternally have my past mistakes sticking on me. This got especially bad when I read about some other people, mostly youtubers, who did what I also think was obvious jokes during an edgy phase they had and later even got therapy and fully apologized for all of it, but people still made fun of their past and it makes me afraid that the same would happen to me if I would manage to build up my popularity more. Joining one of these groups of people on youtube that make videos and stuff together was always one of my biggest dreams and now I feel like I permanently messed it up because of what I did when I was 13-17 with how unforgiving the majority of the internet is about past mistakes, even after you got help.

Dealing with dietary preferences can be quite a challenge in a marriage, and sadly, it seems my husband struggles to remember or respect mine. To be clear, my list of food dislikes isn't extensive – I steer clear of spicy and acidic dishes, have a distinct aversion to raw tomatoes and calamari, and dislike sweetness in savory meals. Despite these preferences, I am not overly fussy; there are plenty of dishes and cuisines I enjoy without issue.

It's frustrating when my husband dismisses my preferences as overly complicated. For instance, I selectively enjoy fruits like pineapples and oranges only when they’re particularly sweet, because if they aren't, they tend to be too acidic for my palate. It's a simple enough method to deciding what fruits to buy, so it's bewildering why this is so hard for him to grasp.

Recently, an incident that highlighted his disregard occurred when his bosses decided to buy food for me. My husband, knowing my usual aversions, chose a sweet and sour chicken dish. He justified his choice by referencing a rare occasion when I had enjoyed this dish at a specific restaurant. Unfortunately, this particular time the dish turned out not only sour but also rather spicy. I attempted to eat it to avoid conflict, but it was too unpalatable. When I expressed my inability to eat the dish, he became upset and told me to just throw it away.

I find it troubling that he could disregard my clear and repeatedly expressed dislikes, especially when I have stressed my aversion to sweetness in main courses. His impatience over the situation seems unreasonable to me, especially when the solution appears so simple: remember and respect my preferences.

Imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality TV show; the audience might be split. Some would sympathize with my frustration over having my dietary preferences repeatedly ignored, echoing the sentiment that personal food choices should be respected by one’s spouse. Others might view it as an overreaction to a simple mistake, arguing that the incident was just a misunderstanding of preferences and not worth a significant dispute. It’s likely the dramatic fallout from the incident would captivate viewers, showcasing the everyday challenges couples face, magnified under the scrutiny of public entertainment.

How might I have handled the situation if it were happening on national television? Would the pressure of viewers' eyes change the dynamics of such a personal issue?

Now, thinking about the nuances of this situation:

- How should my dietary preferences be handled?

- Would viewers take sides, and what would their perspective be on such a personal yet relatable marital disagreement?

if a another teacher gives me another 4x6 note card I might flip. Anyways… any tips for a girl?😫

So they are my childhood friends who make fun of only me and i was so naive back then but now also it's just like i am almost scared of them like if i say something wrong they are gonna say something and whenever i see them now it's like all the fun they made of me or all the whispers i heard or the judging comes flowing back but then there's a very little part who thinks like they are my friends like i spent half of my life with them so i just go meet them and after meeting then it just feels bad even if they are good to me at that time i just can't trust them because they prove me wrong everytime i thik they are nice to me it's like idk. and one more thing all those years i just used to laugh with them and then come home and cry so much like i had more bad memoris of them than good

This is it. This is the time where I become quiet, sensitive, non-verbal. This entire week has been shit. The amount of things I’ve been called, “Things I’ve been called/and/or/talked about or have over heard.

Fat lesbian

Annoying

Uncomfortable

Loud

Bitchy

Gay

Weirdo

“I fucking hate your personality.”

“I’d rather turn my wrist into a waterfall then talk to you”

“It’s not that serious”

“Why do you even care?”

“I would never order a whole pizza for myself.”

“What did you say? I wasn’t listening.”

“Oh her? Yea she’s a fucking fat lesbian.”

“Go ask her out! It’ll be funny.”

“Oh shut up I know you’re lying.”

”

Is what I just got done typing out. In ONE. ONE WEEK. Ive been called or said all of this to or about. My boyfriend is now ignoring me. Putting all of his things on me. He has no idea what’s going on and he’s been very triggering towards me. He said less then 10 minutes ago, “I’d rather sleep then make my wrists waterfalls.” And I told him that he can just go back to sleep and that he was being very triggering and then he got mad at me. I love him so so so much. I have no friends. Not a single one, I just sent this to my therapist “ I’m feeling really suicidal and I’m just finding more and more stuff out and it’s just making it so much worse. I’ve been crying all week and no one to talk to. I’m scared to go to school, I’m scared of confrontation, im scared of looking people in the eyes in the hallway, I’m trying so hard. Way too hard. I’m slowly starting to go non-verbal and I haven’t said a word to anyone since Thursday. I’m pushing everyone out because I’m afraid to annoy them or be too much, my personality has completely changed and now even Lenny’s talking about me, I feel like no one really likes me and I’m freaking out every time I’m in a class with people I know for sure don’t like me and I start going non verbal and I have been skipping class because I know no one in there likes me in the slightest bit and I’ve been skipping classes because of people in there, when I lost my earbud on Thursday I started hyperventilating and I had a panic attack because I couldn’t listen to music. I’m turning my personality completely around and I can’t stand it. I live for talking, if I could I would talk to a deaf person in sign language just to talk some more. I only ever remember me being a sweet, kind, caring, talkitive girl. I thought I was pretty, I thought I would be liked. I completely changed everything just to be liked and it all was lost. All of my achievements are gone and I have to restart. I can’t think of any other way to dress, to wear makeup, how to talk, what words to use, what slag to use I have no idea how.i want to go back to my 5th grade self when literally everyone liked me and knew who I was and loved me. I don’t even have my own small group of friends anymore.”

I’m not living for anyone now. Not even for myself. I’m a walking corpse and I can’t do anything right. I’m just here. Always in the way. I can’t do this anymore and I have no idea what to do. I wanna go online school but my parents said no. I can’t live without someone to talk to. But if I have to. I will. For everyone else’s sake.

So a quick story is we have been trying to have a baby for 3 years. 1st year ibhad 2 chemical pregnancies. 2nd year was completely NOTHING but depression. 3rd year i got pregnant but lost our baby at 4 months. Three months after that (we pretty much stopped trying so hard), i got pregnant and now she’s almost 1 year old. I’m extremely happy to get that straight.

Me and my boyfriend both worked abroad. We agreed that i go back to our home country and raise our baby there, at my parents’ side since im an only child, we both kinda think they’ll want to be with their granddaughter. So when i went home, gave birth and everything, my bf provided everything. My pregnancy was even high risk cos i am of age (37years old), had history, even had gestational diabetes, he was even the one buying medicine for my father. My father got sick when i was abroad and they all told me he was fine but he wasnt really. He would yell at me, curse me, curse my bf and one time he cursed the baby i talked back to him that’s when he hit me while carrying the baby. So i just never spoke to him to keep things quiet. But everyday he would do house repairs, move furnitures that would wale the baby up and when the baby was up he would start cursing again which i just ignored. But after some time, of course tension would build up. He ended up cursing at me again and my bf, so i talked back to him. And it didnt go well. He tried to hit me with a metal pipe, and with his yelling my baby was crying. He threw me out. I lived with my cousin for 10 days and my bf came home and took us with him to his parents house (he has a house already but isnt ready yet). After a month of vacation, he has to go back to work abroad. So im left with his family. His family is fine towards me. But the problem is the place. It’s extremely dirty. They have neglected cats and dogs. My own 2 cats even had fleas infestation even though they never left the room because of the place. Nobody wants to clean, everywhere is pee and poo and puke of cats, dogs, chicks. The house is old but is also neglected since nobody likes cleaning. A simple i want to wash my face turns into cleaning the sink cos there’s a poo in it and my baby will use that sink later. Even the human bathroom is worse than public bathroom. There’s dog pee in it, there’s cat poo in it. The house is insect infested. Mosquitoes, roaches, flies, and i am extremely scared of roaches. I cant let my baby touch anything cos she puts everything in her mouth. Our room is clean, i make sure i clean it everyday but out our room is a whole different place. I cant clean the place otherwise who’ll watch over the baby? So sometimes, we just stay in our room with my cats. People in their house, if you tell then to watch or clean up after their pets they get angry. They “love” animals. But as for me love animals is way different than being responsible and really loving an animal.

I was supposed to stay here with the baby and our cats (who we even flew home from abroad). But because things didnt turn out as we planned especially from my side. We talked of going back abroad but it’ll be REALLY costly.

Me and bf fight or argue everyday. I already had depression from past abusive boyfriend. Now my own father who disowned me, that includes the entire family cos noone ever stood up against him EVER. Just me. Their place is depressing. I am post partum. Our baby is really hard to look after. And i am telling myself now that i need to be more understanding of him. That every argument is my fault cos i am ranting to him everyday. But in the back of my head, what about me? I am having a difficult time too, sooooo difficult. Am i wrong to be ranting so much? I want my feelings out cos i am having suicidal thoughts again or just dream or pray to die everyday. I cry waking up. I cry before sleeping. I am praying when i sleep i hope i dont wake up anymore cos i just want every single fear, tiredness, pain or worry to end.

At 26 years old, I find myself wandering through a labyrinth of ideologies that pit spirituality against organized religion; it’s as bewildering as trying to navigate a dense fog with no clear path ahead. A few weeks ago, I attended a church service that was supposed to be uplifting—the pastor eloquently spoke about love, grace, and the importance of community. I expected to feel enlightened, but instead, I dragged myself home feeling empty. I remember thinking, “Is this it? Is this what faith is supposed to feel like?” Similarly, on another day, I swayed to the rhythms of a local spiritual gathering that promised enlightenment through meditation and collective energy. People were chanting and holding hands, seeking connections beyond the physical. I wanted to feel that current of cosmic energy flowing through me, but instead, I was plagued by the nagging thought: “What if all of this is just a placebo effect?” It’s frustrating to oscillate between these two worlds—each with its proponents vigorously asserting their narratives while dismissing the other’s merit. A good friend once remarked, “Being religious means believing in something, whereas being spiritual means believing in everything,” which left me more puzzled than ever. Is it possible that these categories are merely constructs that serve to confine the vastness of human experience? Honestly, I don’t know; the ambiguity is suffocating. Just the other night, I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, surrounded by a hodgepodge of religious texts and spiritual books, feeling like I was compiling a thesis on a subject I barely understood. I skimmed some passages—Buddha’s teachings on mindfulness contrasted starkly with the heavy doctrines of the Catholic faith; one promised inner peace, the other eternal salvation. It's like choosing between two different types of refuge, both equally enticing yet fundamentally distinct. One may claim, “Follow your personal truth,” but what if your truth is yet to be discovered or, worse, fabricated? ✨

Why is it so difficult to harmonize these beliefs? In the pursuit of clarity, I’ve engaged in endless debates with friends who identify as yogis or fundamentalists; they each argue fiercely for their path, yet here I am, stuck in a perpetual limbo. One afternoon, I found myself in a particularly disconcerting conversation with a devout Muslim woman who discussed the beauty of prayer and community while I could not help but admire her dedication yet felt a pang of longing for the fluidity of spirituality that evades rigid structures. Is a structured belief system inherently restrictive? Or does it provide guidance where spirituality assumes an almost abstract, chaotic essence? I frequently ponder if these traditions are mere vessels of cultural heritage, and how absurd is it that instead of embracing the richness of diverse practices, I find myself shackled in indecision? I often wonder if faith is merely an escapade into the unknown, shrouded in the allure of transcendence but ultimately leading us back to the same existential questions: What is our purpose? What happens when we die?

As I exercise my cognitive faculties to decode the meanings of ‘spirituality’ versus ‘religion,' I can’t shake off the dire feeling that I’m constructing a metaphysical house of cards that could collapse with just the slightest breeze of doubt. “Why do I have to choose when possibly it’s all just an intricate tapestry of beliefs?” I silently scream to the universe, hoping for an answer that never comes. I turn to books, podcasts, and online courses—each touting formulas for a fulfilling spiritual life or an unwavering faith—but do they actually coalesce? Or am I just grasping at straws, hoping for a divine revelation that appears to allude me? I grapple with the paradox that my quest for truth grows heavier with the weight of expectation and self-imposed timelines; I find myself frantically circling back to my fundamental question: Do I desire the grounded morals of religion, or the expansive possibilities of spirituality? Each evening, I lay awake, hoping that someday both worlds can harmonize, creating a holistic framework that resonates with my soul rather than trapping it; Feeling lost has never felt more suffocating. It begs the question: Is anyone else out there wrestling with this dissonance? Does anyone grapple with whether to leap into the arms of tradition or float in the vast ocean of spirituality?

In college, I’m part of a friend group that shares some common acquaintances with another group, which includes a girl we'll call Lisa. Recently, several mutual friends proposed a trip to explore a nearby city, a place I’d never visited before. Although there's a slight friction between our friend circles, I was keen on the trip and decided to join, despite my friends opting out.

Upon reaching the city, our group tossed around ideas for activities, and someone suggested visiting the largest zoo in the country. We agreed but just as we were about to buy tickets, Lisa announced, "Guys, I'm sorry, I don't support zoos,” opting to wait outside instead. Frustrations bubbled as the group wished she had shared this earlier, which could have helped plan activities inclusive for everyone. Consequently, we skipped the zoo and headed to the local shopping district.

Our shopping excursion faced similar setbacks. Standing outside a popular clothing store, Zara, Lisa declared she wouldn't shop there due to its fast fashion practices, which she believed were harmful to the environment. This pattern repeated at several other stores, with Lisa citing environmental concerns each time. Though trying to be understanding, the repetition began grating on everyone's nerves.

The final straw came during lunch. As university students on a budget, we looked for affordable fast-food options. Lisa objected again, this time due to her vegetarianism and environmental reasons against fast food chains. Although I’m also vegetarian and tried to point out that this place offered vegetarian options, it wasn’t enough for Lisa. My patience wore thin, and I snapped, asking her to stop moralizing every choice we made.

Lisa walked away, likely upset, as my outburst didn't sit well with the others either. They criticized my reaction, not bothered as much by Lisa’s repetitive environmental advocacy. Reflecting on it, I can appreciate her intentions, but I was just trying to enjoy the day without constant criticisms of our environmental impact.

Had this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show, the reaction could have been dramatic and widely discussed. Would the audience side with me for seeking a day free from guilt, or would they applaud Lisa’s steadfast commitment to her principles? Reality shows thrive on such conflicts, and the viewers' votes or social media feedback could sway significantly based on their personal views on environmentalism and social etiquette.

Am I wrong here?

Hey there! I'm reaching out from this space because I really need to chat, but finding the right person to talk to... Well, it's complicated. I'm 19, and being a female in this rapidly evolving world sometimes feels like navigating through a maze with no clear exit... The desire for genuine conversation is strong, but I'm at a crossroads when it comes to whom I should open up to. Can you relate? I've tried reaching out to friends, family, even strangers on the internet, but something holds me back each time. It's as though there's this invisible barrier that stops me from pouring my heart out fully. Maybe it's the fear of judgment or maybe it's just the uncertainty of how they'll respond. 🤷‍♀️

I've always believed in the power of words, but it's puzzling how, in this digital age, we're more connected than ever, yet finding a genuine, open conversation feels so rare. "Isn't it ironic?" Every time I think about reaching out, I get flooded with what-ifs that make me retreat into my shell. But I'm determined!!! I want to open up and talk; to share my thoughts and feelings with someone who'd truly listen. The positivity lies in hope that someday, I will find that person who makes the interaction worthwhile.❤ In the meantime, the quest continues, and I'll keep searching for that special someone out there who resonates with my words, and somehow, makes sense of this journey; I hold onto the belief that every conversation has the potential to be a stepping stone towards understanding and connection.

How is the vibe here? :)

I never thought we would end up here. After twenty years of marriage, I find myself lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wonderin where it all went wrong. I look over at you sometimes and you’re right there, but it feels like you’re a million miles away. You don’t smile at me like you used to, you don’t laugh at my silly jokes, you don’t touch me just because anymore. And maybe it sounds childish, but I miss that so much. I miss feeling like you saw me, like you actually wanted me around. Now everything feels so cold and routine. We go through the motions—work, dinner, kids, bills, sleep—but the love part? It feels like it’s gone. Sometimes I wonder if you even notice how quiet it’s gotten between us. If you see how hard I’m trying to still reach you through all this distance. Or maybe you do notice and you just don't care anymore. Maybe you just... don’t love me anymore.

I keep telling myself maybe it’s just stress. Maybe it’s just life being hard and busy, the way it gets after so many years. But deep down I feel it. The way you barely look at me when you walk in the door. The way you say “love you” like it’s just another chore to check off. I feel invisible in a house we built together. I try to talk to you, to open up about how lonely I feel, but it’s like you shut down before I even get the words out. You say everything’s fine, that I’m “overthinking” again. But it’s not fine. Not to me. I crave something more than just existing side by side. I want to feel chosen again. Wanted. Loved. I miss the little things—the random hugs, the spontaneous kisses, the way you used to light up just seeing me. I don’t need grand gestures. I just need to feel like I still matter to you, like I’m still the person you dreamed about growing old with. Right now, it feels like I’m just... there. And the hardest part? I still love you so much, and maybe that’s why it hurts like hell to wonder if you don't anymore.

I’m a 32 year old woman. Divorced and no child. Aged parents. 6 years ago I took over the provider role. With no generational wealth or support from anyone. Sis lives abroad prioritises her life. Burnt out at work. Anxious and stressed most of the time. Health issues.. Cannot quit job due to the responsibilities. Craving to be taken care.. my feminine energy is dead and this is affecting my current relationship with my partner who is not financially stable. I feel like I hv to be man in the relationship. I don’t know how I got here n don’t know what to do.

My boyfriend, Luke, comes from a well-off family while I grew up under quite different circumstances, raised by my single mother in a modest trailer. Despite that, I've managed to start my own tech company and have become fairly successful. Luke, on the other hand, works as a software engineer in an entry-level position, earning far less than me. He's a real charmer though—always courteous, showering me with gifts, and insisting on picking up the bill when we dine out. His job isn't as demanding as mine, so he's also taken on most of the household chores and cooking, which doesn't seem to bother him at all.

I must say, my appearance can be a bit showy. My golden hair is usually enhanced with extensions, and my eyelashes are artificially lengthened. I've gotten a few cosmetic touch-ups, regularly use spray tans, and my wardrobe is filled with chic outfits and flashy jewelry. I've been endowed with a naturally ample bust, which might paint a typical "gold digger" picture when contrasted with my background and Luke's affluent upbringing, even though I self-fund all my glamorous modifications.

Recently, I was introduced to Luke's parents, who he described as quite conservative and traditional. He advised me to tone down my usual style and opt for a more modest look for our first meeting. Taking his advice, I chose a knee-length dress and wore only a simple necklace that Luke gifted me previously. Initially, everything seemed fine until his parents probed into my family background. Upon learning about my roots, their attitude shifted. Luke's mom, Tammy, inquired about my necklace, and when I explained that it was from Luke, his dad, Roy, remarked snidely, "Perhaps he bought your breasts too!" and erupted into laughter—a sentiment worryingly shared by Luke. Disheartened, I forced a nervous laugh.

The discussion carried on rather tensely until Luke excused himself briefly. Tammy then pulled me aside, accusing me bluntly of being a 'white trash gold digger' determined to snatch Luke's wealth. I couldn't help but laugh it off, informing her that if I were after money, Luke wouldn’t be my choice given that I am the higher earner. Confused, she demanded an explanation, so I showed her my company's website with my professional profile. Both she and Roy were taken aback. Rather than apologizing, they pulled Luke back into the discussion to chastise him for not being the main breadwinner. I decided it was time to leave.

Leaving their house, I expected Luke to appreciate my intervention, but instead, he accused me of undermining him by revealing my higher income to his parents, whom he had already described as conventional. I reminded him that they started the disrespect, even sharing in it, yet he felt I should have just tolerated their behavior. We ended up deciding to give each other some space to think things over. So, after all that, I'm left wondering: am I the asshole here?

On a side note, imagine if this debacle played out on reality TV. The public might well have been sympathetic, watching someone defend themselves against unfair judgment. Or perhaps the audience would praise me for not conforming to the misplaced gold digger label? Reality TV thrives on confrontation and unexpected revelations, after all.

I'm curious, what do people generally think?

I am 41. I am a woman. I have been married to an alcoholic for more than 15 years. I am sure he doesnt love me, and I am pretty sure it is becuase he is an alcoholic. This is not poetry. This is just facts from my kitchen table at 2 a.m. while he sleeps it off again. People like to say “love is patient” or “marriage is work.” Fine. But there is a difference between work and emotional starvation. I have done alot of waiting. Waiting for him to come home sober. Waiting for him to notice I cut my hair. Waiting for him to ask how my day was and actually listen. He can be generous, polite, even charming when he wants. He can also disappear into a bottle and leave nothing behind but noise and resentment. Therapists say, “don’t take it personally.” AA slogans say, “one day at a time.” Friends say, “he loves you in his own way.” I call bullshit. Love, real love, requires presence. He is never present. When he drinks, I am furniture. When he is sober, he is tired, ashamed, defensive. There is no room left for me. I remember once being sick with the flu, shaking, asking him to stay home. He said he would. He didn’t. He came back drunk and annoyed that I was “still miserable.” That memory sticks. It always will.

I am not saying alcoholics are monsters. I am saying alcoholism eats love first. It eats empathy, patience, and accountability. There is days when he looks at me like he is trying to remember who I am. That is the part no one wants to admit. Addiction turns relationships into transactions. I provide stability. He provides chaos. We orbit the same house but live seperate lives. I stopped expecting affection years ago. I stopped asking questions, becuase answers require honesty and sobriety. When I confronted him last year, he said, “I never asked you to stay.” That sentence was clean and brutal. He was right. I stayed. I also learned. Love cannot survive where alcohol is the priority. It will always come second, third, or not at all. I am balanced enough to admit my own role. I enabled. I hoped. I believed promises I knew were weak. But I am also honest enough to say this: love needs intention. Addiction has none. So tell me, reader, if someone chooses a substance over you every day, what word would you use for that? Is it love, or is it just habit dressed up as marriage? I am tired of pretending those are the same.

i swear i dont even kno whats wrong wth me anymore. i just cant stop. like it dont even make sense?? one second im fine, just sittin there, and then boom, tears. no reason, no warning, just happns. nd then i try to stop but it makes it worse. my chest feels tight, my throat hurts, my eyes all blurry, and i just sit there like an idiot wth my face all wet like a dam broke inside me or somthing. i try wipin them away but they just keep comming. i hate it, i hate it so much. like wtf am i even crying for? i dont even kno anymore. everything? nothing? both? its like my brain just gave up tryna hold it all in and now its like “ok time to cry FOREVER i guess.”

i keep tellin myself “stop, stop, stop” but it dont work. even when im out, like in public, it still happens. i be in class, tryna focus, then my eyes start burnin and im like not now, pls but nope, the stupid tears dont care. nd then i gotta pretend im rubbin my face or lookin down at my phone so no one notices, but i know they do. people glance at me but no one says nuthin, which makes it worse bc like… do they not care or do they just not wanna deal wth me?? probly both. nd then i get home thinkin maybe ill feel better but nah, soon as im alone it starts again. like wtf body can u just chill?? i get it, life sucks, but can we NOT be a leaky faucet 24/7??

nothin even helps. music? just makes me cry harder. tv? reminds me of stuff. sleeping? HA, as if. my mind dont shut up even when i close my eyes. i lay there all tired but my head keep spinnin, thinkin bout every dumb thing, every mistake, every stupid moment. nd then i get mad at myself, like why am i even like this? but then i start crying AGAIN bc i feel bad for myself which is so dumb. i dont even kno if its stress, sadness, anger, or just my brain bein broken. maybe all of it at once.

i just want it to stop. i want a break from feelin like this, from bein this. but i dont kno how. i keep thinkin maybe tomrrow will be better, maybe i just need to sleep, maybe i just need time. but then another day comes and it’s the same. nd i start thinkin, wht if this is just how it is now? wht if i never stop? bc honestly, right now? i really feel like i never will.