Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Tuesday 4:48-4:57 February 4th.

I’m 14 and was volunteering at a musical. Devon asked for me the first time asking me to bring el to him and that I can’t tell anyone and to make sure she’s alone (she’s in tech) she said she had beef with him and didn’t wanna go alone so she brought leelind (10th grader also in tech) el said that he looked like he wanted to say something then leelind walked in and she asked about a student. Then he asked Tristan (in tech) to bring me (Kiera) to him. I walked in and said “what do you need” and he responded with “I don’t know how to ask you this but, I can’t get bricked. I’ve been sitting here trying to and I can’t get bricked.” And I said “ok? What am I supposed to do about your problem.” And he changed the subject by saying “has anyone uhh you know, hit a home run? (Basically asking me if I have had sex.) you know what mean right?” Then my friend Asten walked in and he completely changed the subject and then I paused to think about what I should do. I wanted to get out of the situation so I said “oh my mom’s calling me.” Then I left the room to call my mom and have her pick me up, but when. I called her Devon was waiting around the Corner for me to be done. I went into the back room where Eli was and told him what was happening and Ashton came in so I also told her. Eli then starting following me around to make sure Devon would stop following me. My mom was on her way and as I picked up my backpack he asked “do you wanna have sex” I told him no and that I had a boyfriend then he started asking who and followed me out. Luckily Eli Humphrey (in tech) followed me out to make sure Devon didn’t, luckily Devon stopped following me and then Eli made a comment saying “freaking pervert” acknowledging that Devon was being weird and harassing me. I then sprinted out of the school to my dad

I just want to clarify that I love my friends. I've actually talked to them about this. This is just one thing that has been bothering me about them, and I know they just want me around. But I think I've had my patience run thin this week ever since a new game came out. My friends all complain when someone else does this to them, but THEY'VE BEEN DOING IT THEMSELVES. It's been grating me, like my brain is perpetually hearing nails on chalkboard and I just want to let it out.

I know hanging out in silence or parallel playing is a thing in group calls, I do it too. But don't fucking call me or ask me to join a group voice call, only for you to do something else entirely to the point of ignoring me. One example is my friend always asking me to join a call, then just out of the blue decides "OH I need to go on a bit of a walk, brb!" one fucking minute after calling me. They don't even hang up and call later, they just fucking leave me in the call for 30 minutes to an hour to wait for them (I know because one time I stayed to see how long they're gone for, I hang up on them now when they do this).

Another example is one friend asking me to hang out with them, but when I come in, they're all playing a game together. They'd ask me about my day, but when I do tell them but then they're too fucking busy playing that they don't even respond to me. It's one thing if I came in, fully knowing you guys are playing and I just want to see you play a game. It's another to outright ask me to make time for you guys, and just flat out not even acknowledge me. What was the point of calling me here in the first place?

It takes a lot out of me, too, since I get easily tired with social interactions (I love socializing, my energy level is just very low). It's even more exhausting when they specifically ask for my attention, and they just outright fucking ignore me even though THEY asked me to join them.

I don't know, I know it's not that serious. But sometimes, it just feels like they're not respecting my time at all when they do this, and it gets so exhausting.

My wife, Sarah, and I have been happily married for about a year. We generally get along great, but there’s one problem: Sarah can’t cook. At all. Since the beginning of our marriage, I've always been the one taking care of preparing our meals. Initially, I didn't mind because I actually like to cook. However, as time passed, this task began to exhaust me, particularly after long days at work when I’d have to start cooking dinner while Sarah relaxed. Despite my attempts to encourage her to learn, she insists that being unable to cook is not an issue, which has been a recurring source of tension between us.

Recently, the situation came to a head when my mother visited us for dinner. That evening, I was busy in the kitchen, as usual, getting everything ready. Sarah was chatting with my mom in the dining area. At one point, my mom came into the kitchen to help and asked me if she should take care of the gravy or chop some fruit. My wife happened to be by my side then, so my mom handed her a knife and asked her to help with the fruit while she dealt with the gravy. Sarah struggled with the knife and couldn't even cut the fruit properly, making quite a mess. My mom couldn't help but watch this and blurted out, "It’s honestly kind of pathetic that you don’t even know how to cut a piece of fruit at your age." She then showed Sarah how to cut properly, like you would show a kid.

The whole evening, after that incident, I could tell Sarah was upset. Once my mom had left, Sarah confronted me, upset that I hadn’t defended her. She felt embarrassed that I allowed such a scene to unfold. We argued fiercely, and I ended up pointing out that it indeed was embarrassing for someone her age not to know how to handle basic kitchen tasks. She argued that wasn’t the point, insisting that I should have supported her regardless.

The dispute left us both wondering about the state of our relationship. She thinks I am a huge jerk for not defending her... maybe she’s right?

Imagine if our dilemma was a segment on a reality-TV show. The drama certainly fits the bill—tension, family dynamics, a heated dispute. Reality audiences likely would have strong opinions, picking sides, and debating whether my frustration is justified or if Sarah’s indignation over the incident is more warranted. On TV, our kitchen catastrophe could have sparked a wave of viewer reactions and perhaps even led to some kind of audience vote on our behavior. The whole idea makes me wonder how our dispute would play out in the pubic eye of a television drama.

Would the viewers sympathize more with me or with Sarah? Would they think Sarah should take cooking lessons, or argue that I need to be more patient?

My husband has always had custody of his son. I came in the picture when he was 1 years old. Bio mom shows her face a few times a year. Normally on holidays when she likes to throw a fuss that she IS the mother and deserves to see/have him for holidays but otherwise doesn't bother with him any other time. Just for back story she has never worked, never provided for the child in any way, has never bought clothing or furniture or anything of the sort for my son. She also has another kid about 9 months younger than my son. And amongst a plethora of other issues, she will occasionally DEMAND hand-me-downs from my son because her other child "deserves them"/"deserves to feel close to his brother." To the point of questioning me when i list up things on Facebook market place as to why I am doing that and not just giving her the things. Or when I list them on freecycle again throwing a tantrum that they were not offered to her first . When he does outgrow toys that were given to him by her (which doesn't happen often because they are usually cheap and break before that can happen) they are offered back to her. But seeing as how my husband, his family, my family or myself solely support my son's every want and need i feel it is within my right to do whatever I want with what is ours and think it is ridiculous she thinks she has a right to them in any way.

Whenever I get depressed I want to cry but if I do I find myself wanting to drown in my tears all my life I've told to stop crying and toughen up. Is this fair to you? I can't help that I'm sensitive. I once didn't smile for a little while and I went pale to my friends bc I always would smile and be happy but how am I supposed to be when everything is after me

I'm quite a sensitive person, I saw this video where this guy with his family, spread his mom's ashes into the lake and it spelled out "love" idk why but I started crying, even now, I'm tearing up. I think that's how my sadness started today. I feel ugly but not super ugly, I don't have a boyfriend, I have one online friend but we don't talk much, I have other online friends but those guys are trying to get with me or just being odd. I think I just need a boyfriend. I think I just need a hug or someone genuine to hang out with. I made a new online friend today but it feels fake. It all feels fake, I only talk to my friends when I'm in a good mood or just try my best to be friendly and all but during my worst moments, I don't have anyone. Who would love me or like me like this? I'm not supposed to burden them with this. I also feel insane. Maybe I'm just undiagnosed or something, idk.

I feel I can't just leave my father like this. He's my doctor, and he doesn't deserve what he's going through, what I'm doing to him, leaving him, being at the mercy of such a huge mess because of me, and having to tolerate it. It's incredible how others want to take my parents' place at all costs. In fact, they don't know how to maintain it either, resorting to confusion worthy of the most serious and justified accusations.

In fact, I feel I can't allow my father to cease being my doctor because neither he nor anyone else has seen what caused my somatization. In fact, no one has been able to pinpoint the cause except for the therapist, who has been the most qualified professional. He, along with the other doctors, have applied desperate measures to resolve the situation, completely ignoring the psychological aspect. This has resulted in a sad, unsettled fishing ground, where everyone has tried to gain ground. In fact, I fear the doctors fueled this, and so did my father, an attitude that is immature from every point of view on both sides.

I don't feel either of them acted well. In fact, I'm open about going with one of them; I would definitely go with my father. If I go with another, the issue would be more complex, in principle, because there isn't the same structured trust that has existed for many years. On top of that, another person won't be willing to listen and sacrifice as my father does. In fact, the ground where everyone has their own life is at the mercy of being exposed. Indeed, the other professionals' fight for me is touching, but if I stay with them, it's detrimental to me in the long run.

The attempt to seize power by any means is impressive, even in the field of medicine. These professionals, including my father, should be ashamed. My body can't be a seizure of power, nor should any patient's. Truly, it's disappointing. Frankly, I don't want to speak to any of these professionals again. They don't measure the impact of their actions. In fact, they should have been even more cautious than my father if they wanted to win me over. I find them all worthy of distrust.

With my father, at least there are some comforts already established, even though the bond is the same as I would have with these professionals. That's why I see myself with this one. But, if I'm honest, I wish I wasn't with either of them because neither of them is committed to being in complete harmony with me. It makes me wonder: When will a mature person come into my life? In this case, I can't take care of myself as a doctor; in fact, I don't even like that question. That's why I say there must be someone who can at least adequately assist me in this. I don't know if I'm asking for some kind of guardian angel or something like that.

Why the hell should I depend on a third party? Why me? Why can't I depend on myself? Frankly, I don't understand. I wish things were different. I wish it all depended on emotions, but that would be like living in a daze and closing the door to that person if they came along. Why can't I trust any professional to help me?

In fact, I have to confess, I feel like the psychiatrist isn't helping me. She's not doing anything. I feel like therapy is just serving as a show for the professional. I hate that I'm serving that purpose. I would like a serious professional to treat me. When will that professional arrive, for God's sake? With which professional will I ever feel truly safe?

With which professional will I ever feel truly welcomed? With which professional will I feel they are leading me in the right direction? I feel in some way that I'm searching for my father in some professional, for someone outside who resembles him, given that I no longer seek him. However, that doesn't mean I've stopped searching for his personality in another person, just as it happens with my mother, and I hadn't realized it.

I have to say it: Where will I find the model of father I want? Where will I find the model of mother I'm looking for? Does it exist? Could it be that I'm there somewhere? I have to say it: Where will I find a substitute family model for mine? Whatever it is I want? Where will I be able to live in that family I so wanted? It was always my dream to live those years that I couldn't live and that I feel I deserve to live, that I feel that life owes me no matter what, because I feel that under no circumstances was it fair to have had a family so uprooted to the point of questioning whether there really was a family and not some kind of apartment with people who were living there by pure coincidence and by the grace of fate, which is how I felt at home, with no chance for anyone to leave.

Where is that house I love so much? Where is that home I long for so much? Where will there be that place where I feel I can live my childhood again? With whom will this be possible? With whom? Who will be able to make me fulfill that dream? Will the answer exist? Will it be worth it? Is it something I could regret? Damn.

I'm tired of searching outside for that childhood I couldn't experience with others around me. Although I confess, I feel I've achieved it, and that's precisely what my submission to my father was, the debt he considered he owed me, and I can understand why he pays it today, precisely for bringing me life and for having me live all these things when the conditions weren't favorable under any circumstances because, in the beginning, there wasn't anyone stable enough to help him with his, and that was exactly what he needed. I understand the financial support, the unchecked freedom, and the heightened restraint of my feelings; These were precisely the three missing elements he always wanted to give me, but for fear of the consequences of his environment, he never succeeded. These were devastating consequences that attacked him as the family's financial supporter. These extremes weren't something he should take into account.

I have to say it. After this text, I feel like I now understand my life as it is.

Ive been with him for 4 years we have a 2 year old , in the relationship its he who controls and decides, since im 5-6 years younger he said i dont know about life, when we fight its always me fault, if im hurt by his actions i get screamed at for stressing him with stupid stuff. If i buy something i have to run it by him but if i dont but something i new we needed i get screamed at as well, when we fight he make me sit in front of him while he insults be and has me crying for hours , im not allowed to leave that spot or i get kicked out of our apt , sometimes he will just go off and as soon as he is done he eats or sleep then apologizes but it had gotten better since i got a better paying job , and i just go let go 2 weeks before Christmas, the first day he was supportive but buy day 4-5 he been horrible saying i ruined Christmas, he has ignored me for the last week and Christmas Eve, he just gives me nasty looks , and today Christmas, he says i should be gone that i ruined his life , i know what everyone is gonna say , Leave but i have no where , i have no family no dad no mom , i have no friends, my last friends my boyfriend said they weren’t gonna amount to anything and i had to leave him and in my jobs he tell me there not friends that there coworkers and to not share anything about our relationship even tho he come home telling his coworkers tell him to leave me . He is very money oriented , me im not i just try to push hoping money will ease his hate towards me . Any intimacy stoped when my daughter was born cause he gained so much weight that his back give out and will be bed ridden for day , also this weight gained is my fault come if we have any type of snack or bad food he will eat it cause he has no self control and is something i should already know, so here i am Christmas Day crying alone with my 2 year old while he sleeps , i dont even want to eat or sleep cause with no money comming in from my side i feel no lt entitled to anything. Also he would let me get just any job he want it something in the field i studied and geting a job in that field is really hard took me 4 months to land a for the first time.

Last Sunday, I arranged a date with a girl named Mandy, whom I had become acquainted with through my friend's girlfriend, Sara. Mandy had always struck me as an amiable and engaging person during our brief interactions at football gatherings at my friend's place. Confident that she shared my interest in football, I invited her out to watch a game at a local sports bar, planning to also enjoy dinner and possibly play some pool.

After picking Mandy up, we arrived at the bar where she spotted a friend of hers sitting with a group. After a quick hello, we initially grabbed seats at the bar to eat. Shortly thereafter, Mandy suggested joining her friend's group. Reluctantly, I agreed. Post introductions, I felt quite out of place as Mandy immersed herself with her friends. Attempts at engaging others in conversation about football or other topics didn't pan out well, leaving me sidelined.

As the game neared its end, I informed Mandy of my plans to leave soon, to which she persuaded me to stay for one more drink. What followed were rounds of shots for her group, while I stuck to my soda due to driving responsibilities. Realizing she wasn't wrapping up as indicated, I reiterated my need to leave due to an early morning. Mandy seemed absorbed with her friends, almost oblivious to my departure, and after multiple attempts to gain her attention failed, I eventually left alone.

The fallout came the next day when Sara berated me over the phone for abandoning Mandy at the bar. Despite explaining the situation, Sara dismissed my feelings, suggesting I should have just joined in. Though Mandy was never truly alone, the ordeal has left me questioning if walking out made me a bad person.

Imagine if this scenario played out on a reality show, the drama would certainly be heightened with cameras rolling, capturing every awkward silence and disappointed glance. Viewers would probably be divided, some sympathizing with my feelings of exclusion, others criticizing my decision to leave without Mandy. It's funny how much more intense every reaction and decision can seem when you're under the public's eye.

Did I do the right thing by leaving the bar?

Recently, my partner, Tom and I enjoyed a night out and when it was time to head back, I proposed that we grab a taxi. The fare was about £20, which seemed reasonable to me for a quick and safe return within 20 minutes. Surprisingly, Tom disagreed, suggesting that it was extravagant and insisted that we opt for public transportation instead. The bus or train would not only take over an hour but traveling so late could also expose us to unnecessary risks. This sparked a bit of a row between us as I accused him of being overly frugal. His stance felt a bit overly cautious about spending, but am I being too dismissive of his concerns? Isn't it reasonable to prioritize quick and safe travel especially late at night?

Adding to this, imagine if our little disagreement was featured on a reality show, where every move and decision faces public scrutiny. How might viewers react? Would they side with Tom, praising his thriftiness as a virtue, or might they support my point of view, seeing my insistence on taking a cab as a reasonable concern for safety and convenience? The additional pressure and possibly judgmental eyes of an audience could have intensified our discussion, making it an even larger spectacle. Reality shows thrive on these everyday dilemmas, blowing them up for dramatic effect. But beyond the cameras, these are the real discussions that many couples face.

I am really curious to see what others think about this common dispute between practicality and security. Is not wanting to navigate the late-night public transit system making me too demanding, or is my concern valid? Would love some input on this!

I've been spending quite a bit of time at my girlfriend Caroline's place, and her younger sister, Emily, who is 12, seems to have taken a peculiar interest in my belongings. She has repeatedly taken items like my phone, keys, and watch, only to hide them and leave me hints to their whereabouts. Caroline's family finds Emily's antics rather charming and funny; however, I'm left feeling quite frustrated, especially when I'm crawling behind furniture to retrieve my phone.

Emily excuses her actions by claiming she deserves my belongings more than I do, and that I should play along to win them back. It's odd to me that her parents haven’t intervened more decisively.

I brought this up with Caroline, expressing that I found her sister's behavior irritating and disrespectful, rather than amusing. I also mentioned my discomfort with how her parents were handling the situation.

Caroline was quick to defend her sister, suggesting that she’s just being a typical kid and couldn't be faulted for it. She argued that kids often act out and shouldn't be held to adult standards of behavior.

This is hard for me to accept, since I was raised in a strict Asian household where respect for others' belongings was emphasized, particularly in the presence of guests. In my family, such behavior would have been corrected immediately.

Despite this, I reiterated to Caroline that this issue isn’t about her sister’s age but about respect for other people's property. Caroline claimed it was unreasonable for me to expect her sister to behave like an adult, but agreed to discuss it with her parents, albeit reluctantly.

The entire situation is making me wonder if I’m being too harsh, or if my expectations are indeed justified. Imagine if this were playing out on a reality TV show, capturing every hidden cellphone and whispered argument. How would viewers react to seeing someone’s personal items repeatedly hidden for laughs? It could potentially swing public opinion, painting me either as a villain intolerant of a child’s play or as a victim of unchecked mischief.

What do you think, would this kind of family drama fly on a reality show?

Look I don’t or didn’t know what to put as the topic. However; day by day, hour by hour, year by year, month by month I’m less ok. If your anything like me it’s hard to tell someone or even talk to a trusted adult about what your going through. I may not know you but welcome to whatever this fuckin thing is… life is mysterious yet hurts because you never know what will happen. My parents want what’s best for me yet I don’t know what’s best for me, I don’t have a path. I don’t have a journey to follow, I’m going with the flow going day by day not knowing where I’ll end up or how I’ll feel by the end of the day. I mean fuck, I skipped work and got so drunk I just needed to feel something, I needed to feel like I could feel things again. Yet it didn’t matter it didn’t help, getting drunk or high won’t help.. sadly… I’m terrible with talking to people I’m awkward I’m socially awkward I’m anxious and scared and anything possible. I know I need to find what I’m good at but it’s like everyone around me isn’t rooting for me, but is pushing me to do things I can’t do or I don’t want to do. Don’t let that happen to you. Because you need to follow your heart, your head, and follow your own path not one someone forges for you, not one someone is forcing you to do. Follow whatever you want to do. Never feel pressured to do anything, take your time and soon enough you will end up ok. Maybe not today, or tomorrow or a week from now fuck maybe not even a year from now but we were all brought onto this earth to do smth we just need to find out what.

So guys, this is about some stuff where I need your guidance and experience with this. I'm a young teen, and I have some stuff which bums me out like some chronic illnesses. I suffer eczema, and have been since I was 2 years old. As much as I have the creams, I hate putting them. I hate feeling that I can't ever be a girl who can wear makeup or dress up like a regular girl my age, I can only put on creams and Vaseline with lip balm. I feel like a stone with eczema, not a girl. I even developed a new set of allergies from cat fur, so now I can't even pet my cousins's three pet cats without sneezing and swelling up, and I discovered this while being at their place and one time in Malaysia, in a cat cafe when I petted a chonky cat, rubbed my eyes and it swelled. Now my orthodontist saw that my adenoids and tonsils are more sensitive than usual, hence why I cough more easily when eating cold ice cream or drinking cold stuff. Maybe I have asthma because my maternal grandma has for many decades now, and while hers has gotten better (she doesn't use an inhaler much and stays with the three cats), but she's 64 now. Now with a lot of these health concerns, I wanna give up so badly.

I don't wanna meet up with an allergist or ENT or dermatologist because it's too expensive for my parents and besides, my paternal grandpa used to be a dermatologist, and he was kinda brash. He would yell at everyone, like, EVERYONE, at work, patients, his family and he's now quite jaded with many things, binging all sorts of carbs and foods and not going out much. He's 75 now. I just wanna give up, I already don't feel like a girl and I hate my eczema, my tonsils, my allergies, and my fear of developing asthma because they're part of the atopic triad. I just wanna doomscroll, not do anything, binge all the snacks and sweets to become like my grandpa, and isolate from people because they are all more normal than me. I feel so hopeless, and I wanna know, if anyone is like me. Anyone who's a teen, or anyone with asthma, eczema, or allergies, I wanna know.

Last year, during the Thanksgiving season, my mom announced that the holiday would also serve as a reunion for her extensive family. She's one of many siblings, and the guest count hit 53 confirmed attendees.

The gathering was set at my mom's place. Luckily, her brother lives right next door, giving us the advantage of using two kitchens. She tasked me with devising the menu, a challenge I accepted but soon realized the complexity of. Considering the dietary restrictions alone was daunting. Our family is Jewish with varying degrees of kosher observance, half are vegetarian or vegan, some have allergies, three suffer from Celiac's disease, and a handful adhere to a keto diet. Plus, there's always a mix of picky children and adventurous adults.

After substantial planning, I shared the proposed menu in our family group chat, and the reaction was generally positive, except for a few minor adjustments like the need for a keto-friendly cheesecake and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets for the finicky younger ones. However, my brother-in-law did not share the enthusiasm. He was notably upset over the absence of turkey from the menu. My suggestion was either to bring a turkey himself or settle for the alternatives provided. He wasn't pleased about the prospect of cooking after a long drive.

This led to a series of complaints via text from him, supported by further encouragement from my sister pushing me to take matters into my own hands and prepare the turkey. In response to continuous pestering, I made a cheeky post in the group chat declaring that he had volunteered to cook the turkey. This only fueled the fire, drawing my mother into the fray, chiding me for not handling the situation more gracefully.

Reflecting on these events, I believe he failed to appreciate the effort it took to plan such a complex menu. Admittedly, my response could have been more tactful. Now, imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show. The drama would undoubtedly be amplified for entertainment, featuring tense music and close-ups of our frustrated texts. Would the audience see my actions as justified or deem them an overreaction? It’s an intriguing thought as the line between personal grievance and public spectacle blurs in the realm of reality television.

How would viewers react if this were a reality show segment?

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

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