Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

i am an autistic, agender sapphic, and i have huge struggles with trust issues and lack of confidence in relationships. for info, im 19, never ever dated in my life, not even kissed, and for the longest time i didn't care about it at all. but recently, I've been craving some sort of intimate affection. i want someone to cuddle, kiss, share kind words and feel safe with...

but i am also extremely scared of relationships. whenever i think of connecting with someone, my mind wanders to the worst. what if my autism,(lv2) is too much for my partner to deal with, and makes her feel like she's with a "grown child"? what if my lack of expressing feelings makes the relationship underwhelming, potentially making her leave or even cheat w someone better, more "normal"? what if, because my gender identity is so confusing, i end up being replaced by someone who's either more manly or more feminine than me?

my trust issues make connecting to people even harder. it's easier for me to start disliking someone than liking, bcs I'm too aware of everything. i wanna be more open, less scared of people, but doing this might make me vulnerable, and the thought of having my vulnerability weaponized against me for whatever reason is TERRIFYING.

so, that's basically it. if anyone else feels like this, or has advice, I'd really love it! i know therapy is the ideal way but the waiting line is really big, so there's little i can do now... anyway, have a wonderful day!

I wil ltry to be short and clear :)

Is it wrong that I'm thinking of skipping my family's upcoming trip to Europe? Originally, I was on board when the idea came up, but after giving it some thought, I'm leaning towards not going. I prefer traveling with my fiancee, especially since we've discussed taking a significant trip together. Although I grew up traveling with my family almost every year until I was about 22, those experiences were mostly within the United States or North America, featuring low-key vacations with a few adventurous activities thrown in. Since everyone in my family is working full-time, our trips together have become quite infrequent.

The issue is, one of my parents is likely to take my refusal pretty hard. It could become a lingering topic of conversation and might even cause ongoing tension. While I cherish the bond I share with my family, I feel that at this point in my life, I’d rather explore new places with my fiancee. Am I being unreasonable?

Imagine if this scenario were to unfold on a reality TV show. How would the viewers react? Likely, there’d be a mix of support for my desire to travel with my fiancee, and sympathy for my family, particularly the parent who feels hurt by my decision. The dramatic element of family discord might even become a focal point of an episode, bringing its own twists and viewer engagement.

I never imagined I’d find myself even thinking this, let alone writing it down—but lately, I’ve been wondering if my son truly loves me anymore. We used to be so close when he was younger. He’d run to me after school, tell me about his day, ask me for advice. Now, at 26, he barely picks up the phone. Messages go unread for days. If we do talk, it’s short, clipped, and he sounds like he’d rather be anywhere else. I know children grow up, I know they build their own lives—but this feels different. It doesn’t feel like distance, it feels like rejection. Like he resents me, or worse, doesn't care at all.

It’s in the little things that the pain creeps in. Holidays, for example—he’ll visit, but only because I ask, and he never stays long. He doesn’t initiate hugs anymore. There’s no warmth in his voice. Last Christmas, he showed up late, didn’t bring a gift or even a card, and spent most of the evening on his phone. When I tried to talk to him about his job, he just mumbled one-word answers. I used to know everything going on in his life. Now I learn about major updates from social media—after he’s told everyone else. When I mention feeling left out, he tells me I’m being too emotional or dramatic. That word—dramatic—burns every time.

I’ve tried to reflect on where I might have gone wrong. I wasn’t perfect. I yelled sometimes. I had rules, like any parent. I worked long hours when he was young, trying to provide. But I loved him with everything I had. I sat at his bedside when he was sick. I helped him with homework late into the night. I gave up so much so he could have opportunities I never had. So when he acts like I’m just some obligation now, it breaks something in me. I don’t need constant praise or attention—but I do need to feel like I matter in his life, like I’m still his mom and not some figure he’s trying to avoid.

The hardest part is that I can’t talk to anyone about it without sounding bitter. Friends will say, “He’s just busy,” or “It’s a phase.” But when that “phase” stretches into years, you start to ask yourself deeper questions. Like, what if he really doesn’t love me anymore? What if all the love I poured into raising him just... faded on his end? There are signs I can’t ignore anymore. No “I love you” at the end of calls. No interest in my life—he never asks how I’m doing. Birthdays are forgotten. He cancels plans without apology. It’s not just neglect; it’s indifference. And indifference hurts more than anger, because at least anger means they feel something.

What makes this worse is watching him with other people. I’ve seen him be so kind to his girlfriend’s family—bringing flowers, planning trips, sending thoughtful texts. I’m happy he’s found love, but it stings to know I don’t get that version of him anymore. Maybe he’s giving his best to others now, and there’s nothing left for me. I wonder if he sees me as just a reminder of his childhood or a source of guilt. I don’t want his pity, I just want a little of that love back. A phone call where he’s not distracted. A visit he actually wants to make. A moment where he looks at me like I still mean something.

I know I can’t force love. I know that adult children don’t owe their parents constant attention. But love shows up in effort, in presence, in the small gestures that say “you still matter.” And right now, all the signs point to something I never thought I’d face—a son who’s moved on from loving his mother. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just feeling lonley, reading too much into things. But if you’ve ever felt this ache too, then you know it’s not easy to ignore. I just hope one day he remembers the woman who raised him, who loved him even when he pulled away, and decides to come back—not out of guilt, but because he wants to. Until then, I wait, and wonder if the silence is my answer.

Alright, so I'm 39 and trying not to freak out, but it's hard not to feel like something ominous is scribbled across my life's blueprint. could it be the algorithm of stress, or maybe just the faulty wiring in my overthinking brain? the days scrape by and I've got this stupid itch, like a ticker tape in my head whispering "tick-tock, hun, something's coming." you ever stand in the shower and just watch the water swirl down the drain while wondering if you're circling right down with it??? bizarre, right? but seriously, what the hell is this gut-churning sense of doom that just lounges in my living room like it pays rent?

i blame it on the 'midlife crisis' stigma, which surely must be some twisted rite of passage. but i don't own a convertible or an absurdly-priced leather jacket, just a morbid fascination with my own mortality. is there an existential influencer somewhere saying, "and now you'll dread your birthday cake candles"? at this age, you'd think I'd have unlocked some dispassionate wisdom from life's inventory, but nah, feels like i'm playing a video game with a walkthrough written in pencil!!! like howdy, could someone patch this glitch, please? no cheat codes here, just wish I could delete this morose save file, you know?

but here's the thing, if i dust off my therapist's favorite cliches, it's like hitting pause and rebooting with optimism... "change is good!" or that irritating serene vibe of "you've got this." tedious but they might be onto something!!! i mean, statistically, with all the variables, I could live to garden with my grandkids, dodging any hardware bug life throws my way. don't you think it's hilarious how we can be both the protagonist and the heckler in our life’s script? maybe we're all just late-night telethon hosts, presenting dramatic predictions about the apocalypse of our souls. pfft, if i can troubleshoot systems as complicated as my own, enjoying that last cookie guilt-free seems doable enough. maybe, just maybe, this isn't some final destination trailer after all, but just a low-budget pilot for figuring out what it means to really live!

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...

I never thought I’d be the kind of person to say this, but here I am, typing the words I’ve been too ashamed to admit out loud: I hate my wife. Even writing it feels wrong, like I’m betraying the vows we made on our wedding day. But the truth is, I don’t even recognize the person I married anymore—and maybe, I don’t recognize myself either.

We’ve been married for five years, and somewhere along the way, everything changed. It wasn’t always like this. In the beginning, she was my best friend. We laughed at the same jokes, stayed up late talking about everything, and I couldn’t imagine a life without her. But now? Now it feels like we’re just two strangers living under the same roof.

The little things started piling up first. She’s always criticizing me—what I wear, how I do chores, even the way I talk to people. It’s like nothing I do is ever good enough for her. Last week, I came home after a long day at work, and instead of a simple “hi,” she just started yelling about how I didn’t take the trash out the night before. It’s always something. And yeah, I get it, I’m not perfect. But does she have to make me feel like a failure every single day?

It’s not just the nagging, though. It’s how cold she’s become. We barely talk anymore unless it’s about bills or what’s for dinner. She spends most of her time scrolling on her phone or watching TV. I’ve tried to suggest date nights or even just going for a walk together, but she always has an excuse—too tired, too busy, or just flat-out not interested. It’s like she doesn’t even care about us anymore. And honestly? I’ve stopped trying because rejection hurts too much.

I hate how I feel around her now. It’s like walking on eggshells all the time, trying to avoid another argument. But even when I keep my mouth shut, she still finds something to be mad about. I’m starting to dread coming home because I know it’s just going to be more of the same. I feel trapped, like no matter what I do, I’ll never make her happy.

I’ve tried talking to her about it, but it’s like hitting a brick wall. Whenever I bring up how I’m feeling, she either gets defensive or turns it around on me. “You’re just overreacting,” she’ll say, or, “Maybe if you actually listened to me, things wouldn’t be so bad.” It’s like my feelings don’t matter to her at all. How are we supposed to fix this if she won’t even admit there’s a problem?

The thing is, I don’t want to hate her. I want to fix this. I want to go back to the way things were when we actually liked each other. But I don’t even know where to start. Sometimes I wonder if she hates me too, and we’re just both too scared to admit it. Is this what marriage is supposed to be like? Because if it is, I don’t know if I can do this for the rest of my life.

I’ve thought about leaving, but the idea terrifies me. What if I regret it? What if this is just a rough patch and we could’ve worked through it? Plus, there’s the guilt. I made a promise to her, to stay through better or worse. But how much worse am I supposed to endure before it’s okay to say enough is enough?

And then there’s the practical stuff. We’ve built a life together—shared bills, shared friends, and even a shared dog. Untangling all of that feels impossible. I don’t want to be the bad guy, the one who gave up on our marriage. But at the same time, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way.

If this was a reality show, I wonder what people would say about me. Would they see me as the villain, the ungrateful husband who can’t appreciate his wife? Or would they understand that I’m just a guy who’s trying to figure out where things went wrong? Honestly, I don’t even know what to think anymore.

If anyone’s been through something like this, how did you deal with it? Did you stay and try to fix things, or did you walk away? Right now, I just feel stuck, like no matter what I do, I’m going to hurt someone—her or myself. All I know is, I can’t keep living like this. Something has to change, but I don’t know if we can make it work.

Man, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I swear, I try so hard, I put in the hours, I do the work, but somehow it’s never enough. I thought I was smart, or at least average, but ever since I started my engineering studies, it’s like I’m constantly the dumbest guy in the room. I sit in class, listen to the professor explain something, and literally nothing clicks. Then I look around and see everyone nodding like they get it, asking these super technical questions that I don’t even understand enough to know what they’re talking about. I go home, rewatch the lectures, read the textbook, even look up YouTube videos that break it down in a way a 5-year-old could understand. Still nothing. It’s like my brain just refuses to process anything beyond basic math and physics. And don’t even get me started on exams. I walk in hoping for at least a decent grade, and every time, it’s like my mind goes blank. Half the questions look like they were written in another language, and even when I think I know the answer, I second guess myself so much that I end up changing it to the wrong one. I see other people finishing early, walking out looking all confident, and I’m still sitting there, staring at my paper like it’s gonna start answering itself. I try telling myself I just need to study harder, but I do study. Hours and hours, every single day. So if I’m putting in the effort and still failing, then... why am I stupid?

It’s not even like I’m lazy. I’ve seen people who barely study, who just skim through the materiall the night before and somehow pull off good grades. Meanwhile, I’m grinding like my life depends on it, and I still barely scrape by. My friends try to be nice about it. They say stuff like, "Bro, engineering is just hard for everyone, you’ll get there," but then they turn around and ace every assignment while I’m still stuck on step one. I don’t wanna be the guy who holds the group project back, but I can feel it happening. The way they explain things to me, the way they “help” but end up just doing the work themselves because I’m taking too long. It’s humiliating. I used to think I was good at problem-solving, but now every problem just feels like a dead end. I see my classmates who are actually passionate about this stuff, who spend their free time building things, programming just for fun, and I can’t relate at all. I don’t enjoy this. It’s just constant stress, constant failure, and I don’t even know why I’m still here. If I’m struggling this much now, how the hell am I supposed to survive the next few years? And then after that, actually work as an engineer? No company’s gonna wanna hire the guy who barely made it through college.

I keep wonderingg if I should just quit. Maybe this isn’t for me. Maybe I’m just not smart enough to do this kind of work, and I should accept that before I waste even more time and money. But then what? It’s not like I have some other passion waiting for me. Engineering was supposed to be the plan, the safe choice, the thing that would guarantee a good job. If I walk away from this, then what do I even do? My parents would be disappointed, I’d have to start over with something new, and I have no clue what that would even be. I don’t wanna be a dropout. I don’t wanna be a failure. But I also don’t wanna keep feeling like this, like I’m just too dumb to be here. I keep hoping one day it’ll just “click,” that suddenly things will start making sense, but I’m starting to think that’s never gonna happen. Maybe some people are just not meant for this kind of stuff, and I’m one of them. And honestly, if that’s true, then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next...

I can feel my bestie pulling away from me. he's been cold and unresponsive to alot of things and he left on read in a recent text I sent him about wanting to talk to him and sort things out

I just feel so burnt out. I'm on winter break but doesn't feel like a break because my mind can't seem to stop. there is constantly something going on and I'm just so tired of this

my friend and I got really close during the summer, but this semester we made some new friends who always joke about us "getting together" I can laugh the topic off but my friend seemed to take it too personally and that's what he started to pull away for real

we recently made a club in college and that brought a new side to our relationship because we had to be professional at times and I feel like he couldn't handle the balance and sort of cracked under that

it's just that he is an important figure in my life. he helped me grow into a more confident version of myself. he helped me speak up to people and to battle demons I never knew I had.

it hurts to know that, at the end of the day, I won't mean to him as much as he means to me

and I can't help but wonder what if the problem really is the relationship thing? what if we do get together and suddenly all this tension goes away?

So around last December, me and a friend were sitting around a fire and the fire wouldn't stay lit so we decided to go to a bar. Well, I didn't feel like changing clothes bc I was comfortable, and it was cold asf. So I went out wearing my plush pajama pants and a Columbia fleece jacket which probably wasnt the best idea😂 well we got too the bar and we were playing pool and my buddy bumped into this dude behind us, and when he did it made the guy miss his shot. So the dude was not happy at all he turned around and pushed my buddy. So being the friend that I am I walked up and pushed this guy too the ground, and when I did one of his buddies came up behind me and uppercutted and grabbed and was squeezing tff out of my balls all at the same time. Until I went to my knees and when I got down to his level I remember him saying in my ear while still squeezing and twisting my balls "oh your boys are nice and fuzzy".Which i mean the pants are soft asff but there were so many people around. Including girls lol that heard that, and it was humiliating. I couldn't do anything but hold my inner thigh and hoped he let go. Well, it went on for about 30 more seconds. That's when i felt something pop and he let go. I instantly got to my feet, limping but walking. My buddy helped me walk out of the bar. I remember being sore and not being able to close my legs for a week. My gf still doesn't know about anything when she asked me what was wrong. I just told her I rolled my ankle bc she kept asking why I was limping. What would be a good way to tell her about this embarrassing situation?

[Translated from Spanish. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I feel so much anger. Am I really doomed to stay in the groups I’m in? I mean, if I end up in a group I’m already part of—say, a family group—am I condemned to be stuck with them forever? Is there really nothing I can do to break away? Do I just have to get used to it out of inertia? This worries me deeply.

I admit it’s hard for me to write because I come from a social network that censored truly beautiful texts I wrote to let off steam—something I found incredibly unfair. It made me feel completely lost when it comes to using that platform. My intention was to express myself and structure my thoughts—focusing on that structure—without really considering others’ views. The point wasn’t to stay trapped within those external conceptions, but to develop something from what I was expressing. I just wanted to say this in case anyone wanted to offer their perspective.

Anyway, ever since that experience on that social network, I’ve felt trapped. Venting is what helped me break away from my family, to carve out a safer space both within and outside that context. That’s why I say I express and transcend. Venting gives me a holistic view of things without having to exclude any terrain. But I realized something: I think I’m normalizing things about my family. I feel like I’m using my venting to smooth over rough patches caused by behaviors that made me angry. It’s like I’m helping to re-establish those relationships in a “normal” space—a space I try to maintain without digging too deep. I feel like that has consequences, but I don’t quite see what they are yet.

It’s hard to structure my ideas in this environment—it’s different from what I’m used to, just like that other platform was. The fear of censorship is still there. Those posts were removed for no reason, or at least I never got an explanation. I followed the same rules as other posts I saw there. I’m furious about it. In fact, it makes me feel like the outside world somehow wants to push me back into my family setting. And whether it’s about family or not, people always say you have to break away on your own terms, not because someone tells you to. Otherwise, it could turn into a tragedy—it’s such a heavy burden. There’s this girl—I'll admit—who told me she feels trapped in a group and doesn’t know how to get out. In her case, the group is actively trying to make her leave her family, creating a barrier due to past circumstances that now prevents her from reconnecting. That happened a long time ago, and I’ve kept it inside ever since. I just wanted to express it.

I don’t want to meddle in that girl’s life. I feel like I’ve already left my family space behind—I did so a long time ago. And my experience with her only helped confirm it, especially after going through some very intense interactions with my closest relatives. The closeness we had only pushed me to create more distance, and that made our superficial routines of togetherness even more unbearable. So when the time comes for me to leave, it won’t be entirely bitter—there will be something sweet in it too. This is especially relevant if I ever get sick and we have to interact again. I know that kind of interaction will be unpleasant for me, because it creates tension and unwanted closeness with my relatives—those who used to take care of me. So in a way, if I do fall ill, it would trigger a change in their routine. And I think they would, maybe subconsciously, begin to appreciate the idea of me moving on to a place where they can’t or don’t have to interfere. That would open the door to my independence at last.

I feel sorry for this girl. Still, I think I’m ready to defend the principles of helping her—offering her a fishing rod rather than a fish, so she can catch her own. At the time I met her, I think she was open to it because her need was great, though I believe that need was buried deep due to how embedded she was in her group. I had stopped reacting impulsively and disrespectfully, breaking her routines without warning—these were the patterns she used to destabilize people, myself included. Her group absorbed her completely, and she shaped her environment around that. In short, maybe I can support her.

I just needed to say all of this. I don’t feel particularly skilled at writing. I posted eight times. Maybe the way I wrote had something to do with it—perhaps I wasn’t careful enough in how I structured things. But I can’t focus on that right now. I need to express myself freely if I want to sort out my thoughts. I need to release all this mental weight and reshape it through structured writing, so I can, as I said, transcend it—and that helps me find order in my mind. What hurts is that this was already my second attempt to engage with that platform. And once again, it highlighted how hard it is to express oneself freely—which, ironically, reminds me of how much I need to express myself freely. Otherwise, I’m just crawling through a dark tunnel, getting buried alive or hitting a wall I can’t break through.

I also like when a space doesn’t allow too much outside interference—it helps me feel like there are steady receivers out there, even if the way I express myself is different. I know that’s not realistic in the real world, where we talk face-to-face, not through digital platforms. But this goes back to what I said earlier—it’s so hard to break away from the past. If something from the outside knocks me down, I risk being dragged back into my family’s orbit. And I don’t want that. I have to be very careful about where and how I express myself—so I can see where the boundaries are and navigate through whatever life throws at me.

Apologies if this came out a bit disorganized. After all, this is a vent—a need to breathe, to unload what’s suffocating me and leave it somewhere, so I can move on to other thoughts. That’s how forgetting works, as good ol’ Freud would say.

I’m 23M and I finished my IT studies last year thinking I was at least stepping onto a road, even if it wasnt a perfect one. I actually did get one decent thing right after, a paid internship for 2 months, doing small dev tasks, fixing bugs, cleaning messy code, sitting in standups acting like I knew what “velocity” really meant. It was not glamorous but it felt real, like finally I was inside the system instead of just training for it. Then it ended, they said nice things, “you did well,” “we’ll keep your CV,” the usual polite exit lines, and after that it was just silence. Since then I’ve been applying everywhere for junior developer jobs, trainee jobs, “entry level” jobs that somehow still ask for 2 years of experience in three frameworks and cloud certs like they’re handing out pilot licenses. I’m not saying companies are evil for wanting good candidates, because I kind of get it, nobody wants to spend money training someone who might leave, and the market seems bad for everybody right now, not just me. But at the same time it’s hard not to take it personal when rejection emails stack up or, more common, when there is no reply at all. “We have decided to move forward with other candidates” starts to sound like background noise after a while. And the weird part is I can still explain the logic of it, I can still be rational, but that doesn’t stop the mood from sinking. Unemployment depression sounds dramatic when you say it out loud, maybe even too online, but what else do you call it when every day looks the same and your confidence gets slowly sanded down by job boards, fake motivation, and waiting?

What makes it worse for me, honestly, is AI. I know some people love it, some people say “adapt or die,” some say it’s just another tool like Google or Stack Overflow, and maybe for some jobs that’s true. I’m not trying to do the old man yelling at clouds thing at 23 😅. But I hate how it entered the conversation right when I was trying to begin. It already felt hard enough to get taken seriously as a junior dev, and now every article, podcast clip, LinkedIn post, and random recruiter comment sounds like, “junior coding will change,” “companies need fewer entry-level devs,” “AI can boost one senior into doing the work of three people.” Maybe some of that is hype, maybe alot of it is marketing, maybe companies are just using it as the newest excuse to freeze hiring, I honestly don’t know. I’m trying to stay fair about it. I know AI can help with boring tasks, documentation, debugging, whatever. I even used some of it during school and during the internship because not using it at all would be kind of fake. But I still resent it, because I spent years hearing that tech was safe, practical, future-proof, and now the same people are acting like the ladder got pulled up just when my turn came. It feels like someone changed the rules after the exam. And before anyone says “build projects,” yes, I did that, small web apps, GitHub commits, portfolio, CV rewrites, leetcode a bit, networking a bit, messages to old classmates, all of it. None of it turned into actual work. After months of this, even personal projects start to feel fake, like I’m making pretend products for no users just so I can maybe impress someone who will never answer the application anyway;

The hardest part is probably how ordinary it all looks from the outside. I live at home right now, I wake up, search listings, send applications, tweak cover letters, maybe study, maybe stare at the screen pretending I’m still “being productive,” then the day ends and technically nothing exploded. No big tragedy, no dramatic downfall, just a slow, dull shrinking. Friends from school are mixed too, some found jobs, some didn’t, some moved into support or data stuff or just gave up and took whatever paid rent. I don’t judge them, and I try not to judge myself either, because the economy is messy and the tech market is clearly not what we were promised. Still, there’s this embarassing feeling when someone asks, “So what are you doing now?” and the true answer is basically waiting. Waiting while trying to look active. Waiting while telling yourself you’re not lazy, not broken, not useless, just stuck. I don’t think unemployment automatically equals depression for every person, and I don’t want to throw that word around carelessly, but when your plans stop moving, your brain can stop moving too. You start thinking in smaller and smaller circles. You compare yourself to strangers. You read posts where people say “just keep grinding” or “the market will recover” like those phrases are food. Maybe they mean well. Maybe they’re right. But being told to stay positive when nothing changes can start to feel insulting, even if the advice isn’t wrong. So I’m asking, especially to anyone reading this who has been through something similar, how do you keep your head normal when your career hasn’t even started and already feels over? I’m still applying, still trying, still being realistic, but I’d be lying if I said this hasn’t changed how I see myself.

Anxiety is why we're alive. We survived mammoths, saber-tooth tigers, big lizards probably, deadly insects, and all that. It's why I'm not drowning in the ocean, just swimming in the pool, which I quit as well because I didn't enjoy swimming as a sport. It's why no shark has eaten me thinking I'm a fish. Yes I know why they accidentally eat humans sometimes, they think we're food, they're kinda dumb at times, not evil. Dolphins, though... Still, my grandpa's family only got lucky, being fishermen and all. How did my grandpa even live near the shores of Kerala, fishing and living in a hut before he grew up to be a doctor in Mangalore with a big house? Dad said the tides of the Arabian Sea are deadly, so how did grandpa live? How did my older cousin casually swim on the shore, when the tides looked huge? The ocean isn't safe. How am I even alive? On one hand, I was born with a cleft palate, because LiFe DeCiDeD BeCaUsE I wAs A gIrL (apparently it's more common in girls with isolated cleft palates), yet I got it fixed and I didn't require a speech therapist, I got eczema at 3 and newfound cat and dust allergies at 12, yet I didn't die. I ate salmon and all sorts of fish, except for the very niche ones (shark, stingray, all that), yet I didn't get any swollen throat stuff or anaphylactic reactions. Maybe I'll get a lobster allergy as a new one because my mom has one where her throat gets super itchy if she eats a lot, otherwise, no anaphylaxis.

I can confidently say that about my brother, bro got the very early stages of pneumonia, he got hospitalized with an IV drip for 2 days. Even before that, he'd had to use the nebulizer so many times during winter especially. He's fine now, and he rarely uses it at 11.5, but me? Nah, my body decided, "Let's give you more allergies!" I love cats, but I have to force myself to enjoy the marine life only because of allergies. My grandma's asthma lasted until she's 65 now, and NOW she can only walk with cats. Back then, even when I was a baby, nah. This is it, I'll end up like my grandma and ancestors. My great-granny even had eczema. I can't even pet cats now! I can't bury my face in it and be like normal people, I'd have to wear a mask and woolen gloves. I went to a park and a cat got so comfortable with me, it went on my lap and lied down, and when I wanted to move, it didn't scratch or bite me, he just jumped off, eyes still sleepy. I rubbed his face, and then I started sneezing and my eyes got red. My mom got me bubble tea later on in the park, it was good, but still, I can't be normal. I'd have to move towards fish because well, they can't produce Fel d 1, they just look at you like you're their food god. Still, they don't love me, they just exist and move in schools. And I obviously can't own a dolphin because I hate them and whales are...bruh. They're loving, but they're HUMONGOUS.

I've LOOKED at cats far too long, but it's fine. Most hate humans anyways. Dogs to me are kinda scary. How do people even have cats with allergies? Heck, Mayo Clinic says this, "If you don't have a pet but are considering adopting or buying one, make sure you don't have pet allergies before making the commitment." WebMD says, "If you or a family member has cat allergies, you shouldn't have a cat in the home...Protect yourself. When around cats, wear a mask with an N95 respirator, and wash your hands with soap and water if you touch them (where am I even gonna get that?)..." And then they say this, "Cat allergy symptoms happen due to proteins in a cat's saliva, urine, and dander, affecting around 10% of people in the U.S. Even if you're not allergic to cats, they can bring in other allergens from outside. While some breeds are "hypoallergenic," any cat has the potential to cause issues. Symptoms of a cat allergy include coughing, wheezing, itchy eyes, and skin irritation, often showing up quickly after contact. To confirm an allergy, consult a doctor for tests, and consider avoiding cats altogether if you or a family member is allergic. Treatment options include antihistamines, decongestants, nasal steroid sprays, and allergy shots, though prevention remains the best approach." The more I tell myself I shouldn't own a cat, the more I'll get used to the lack of affection from pretty but essentially emotionally unintelligent fish. That park cat just somehow trusted me more, which stray-wise, big mistake, it should've tried to scratch me like normal cats when I wanted it to get off. Again, cats hate humans anyways, why else would most pet cats not care about you and demand you serve them? I'll stick to fish, at least it's more predictable when they ask you for food, nice water and nice rocks. I've learnt to wish less for what I want.

What's wrong with what I did? Accept that you'll get less, the more you'll accept that you are less. There's one cosplay event I wanna go, and even though it's in April, I'm scared of failing exams the month before and it not feeling worth it, even if my parents will try to support. They're weird for not yelling at me for scoring low marks last exam. They yelled at me more when I said, "I'm stupid, that's why I failed." I don't even know cosplaying, so what's the point, I'm gonna mock myself in the future for even trying and looking ugly. I'm new at dancing as well, so in the class after I had to do it solo, the students clapped without the teacher telling them, and I asked one of them if they're just clapping because they had to and I know I'm not good, then she looked at me, baffled, told the teacher, and he said I "did alright, good enough", and she said she did worse than me early on. No way. They usually say that to appear humble, I've seen enough movies to figure out that they're lying. My brother even told me I shouldn't have asked her, especially if they clapped without the teacher saying anything. But the more I accept I'm stupid, I'm ugly, I'm worthless, I'm weak-bodied, and I don't deserve what I get, I'm real, grown up. I don't deserve the relief I got after the exams, it just means I'm stupid. In fact, why don't mom and dad act like normal, Indian parents? Tell me my worth is the exams, because if I don't pass, at 8th, I won't go into 9th, I won't have a job opportunity, I won't go to a new grade, I'll be humiliated and held back for being stupid, and that I am stupid. They get more mad when I tell them I'm stupid, because that's the truth, I'm stupid. What's relief, what is "good" and all when their own child is a failure? I can't handle pressure, which means I can't do any jobs which gives me big bucks!

I remember pointless things. What good will marine biology do if anyways most deep sea creatures are harmless to us? Anyways most people grow up not doing what they like. They love space and even when they wanna be an astronomer, not even an astronaut, an ASTRONOMER, they end up accounting money, like everyone else. Like every normal human. Accepting worthlessness is peace. You matter to no one. You don't. If I die, it makes no difference to the 153,000 per day deaths. I really don't matter, and when you accept your worth as much as turd, you live life accepting you're never good enough instead of trying to fly with wings as a human.

I am walking. It cannot be otherwise

man, i seriously screwed up this time. like what the hell was i even thinking? I'm 19, supposed to have my head on straight, but obviously, that's too much to ask for. so yeah, i cheated on my girlfriend, and now I'm sitting here feeling like the dumbest idiot to ever walk this earth. it ain't rocket science to be faithful, right? yet somehow, in my twisted brain, i found the loophole to mess it all up. it's not like i meant for this to happen, it wasn't even a planned thing, just a random, spur-of-the-moment stupid decision.

i mean, she's such a great girl; always there for me, supporting my crazy dreams when nobody else does. and what does she get in return? a boyfriend who likes to muck things up royally! like, how cool is that, folks? sometimes, i just wanna slap my past self and yell, “what the heck is wrong with you, man?” did my conscience take a vacation when this happened, or was i just not using the brain cells I'm supposed to have at 19? god, can things be messed up any more than this?

i remember that night vividly, you know? a few of us were chilling, one drink led to another, and before i know it, I'm making decisions dumber than a headless chicken. imagine realizing that one moment of stupidity can dismantle trust you took months, even years to build. honestly, i thought i was mature, handling life better than a lot of my friends drowning in drama. guess what? drama: 1, me: 0. anyone else been in that pit where you dig and dig but never seem to hit bottom?

but seriously, how do you even begin to fix something like this? first step: stop feeling sorry for myself, maybe. acknowledge that i was a total prick and try to make amends. but can you mend something that's totally shattered? do i even deserve another chance, or is it time to face the music and admit that i blew it? guess I'll find out soon enough. lesson learned? maybe, and you bet your *$! I’ll be wary next time my stupid brain decides to take a vacation again. isn't growing up a mess, though? 🤷‍♂️

There are moments in life when one feels the overwhelming urge to let tears flow, but inexplicably, the tears refuse to come. This paradox is driving me to madness. Why is it that when I most need the release and comfort of tears, they betray me? It feels as though my entire being is locked in a struggle between an intense yearning for emotional catharsis and an unyielding stoicism. “They say crying cleanses the soul,” I once read in a novel; right now, that sentiment feels out of reach. It's a bitter irony—wanting to cry to ease the aching heart, yet remaining stoic as a statue.

The complexities of human emotions are intensely baffling. One moment, you feel utterly alone in a sea of people; the next, you're surrounded by warmth and love; yet, the tears are stubbornly elusive. Have you ever been in a situation where your emotions are all tangled up, but they refuse to unravel, leaving you trapped in an internal quagmire? It's like when you have an itch you can't scratch—aggravating in its persistence. There is some twisted frustration in needing an emotional outlet that remains tantalizingly out of reach. Isn't it funny how emotions have a mind of their own?

There was a time in college when I experienced a similar emotional gridlock. I remember walking down the bustling hallways, my mind a whirlwind of stress and anxiety, yet nothing on the outside showed it. My friend, noticing my pensive demeanor, quoted Shakespeare: "Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break." If only it were that easy! But how does one articulate sorrow when the words won’t form? I wonder if everyone experiences these bouts of emotional constipation, or is it just me?

This brings me to ponder whether societal pressures contribute to our emotional suppression. We're so conditioned to put on a brave face, to maintain a facade of composed demeanor, and to carry on as though nothing is amiss. This is perhaps why our emotional outlets sometimes become blocked; we forget how to feel openly, caught in a web of expectations and obligations. It is a bewildering conundrum—being so in tune with one's emotions, yet utterly adrift; does anyone else feel this duality?

In conclusion, the inability to cry when one needs to the most is both a mystery and a torment. There's clearly no manual on how to navigate the intricacies of human emotions flawlessly. Each of us is an intricate tapestry of thoughts, feelings, and experiences, with crying being just one expression of our complex emotional spectrum. The dissonance between needing and being unable to cry might just be nature's way of reminding us of our vulnerability and humanity. Perhaps in time, I'll understand the purpose behind this emotional stalemate; perhaps not. Until then, I am left to ponder these musings and continue the awkward dance with my wayward emotions. Are emotions truly our ally or our nemesis?