Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I feel a lot of affection toward one of the doctors who treated me. In fact, I feel a sense of care that neither my father nor my mother had ever given me. I feel affectionate, loving, and for the first time, I don't feel like speaking ill of parental figures as I always have, and that makes me happy. I confess that I never liked speaking ill of my parents because I felt it was denigrating my past, my person, that part of me that was made up of them, but I couldn't help it.

In fact, I confess, I'm sorry to be writing about them like this because I feel it's distancing me from them, and I don't want to do that. I don't want to distance myself from other parental figures again; I'm not interested in doing that. I feel like I want to be with them, not cause them any inconvenience, no fights, just follow them blindly. Yes, that's exactly it.

I feel like I've put all my critical tools to work distancing myself from my parents, which was my greatest wish. I didn't want that to happen again. In fact, that's why I feel like these doctors are like paternal figures, and I feel like they've adapted me in some way. It fulfills me in part because I feel like they're replacing my parents, but I can't help it.

How can I not give them credit for being paternal figures if they've earned it? Even with their example. They're inclusive of me. I even feel like I'm part of the family, where I'm taken into account, where I'm a priority, where I'm taken seriously and with care. I feel like this made me feel completely cut off from the family. My parents were always willing to make me feel marginalized, but these doctors, on the other hand, make me feel like I'm part of something, that there's a system that loves me, that appreciates me, that wants me alive. With my parents, I felt like that was impossible because I was born among them, which didn't seem fair at all.

I never felt like part of the family. They never allowed me to. No matter how hard I tried to get inside, they kept me defensive about my parents. I simply had to keep quiet because it was them, as if they were the perpetrators of a massacre to which I was condemned without any salvation. Even with my family, they closed the door on me and left me in a dead end. I can't ask the doctors to play my parents, however, I see an interest in them in making me their son, given that, for some reason, I see that they have lacked that possibility, mainly due to their spirit of justice, commitment, and friendliness, which precisely constitutes a burden that is very difficult to compensate.

In fact, with another of the doctors, I feel a relationship, also familiar, in terms of a courtship, but it goes beyond that; it's even familial. The group of doctors who treated me feel like a kind of family that somehow adapted me, that opened their doors to me. I don't understand why. It's as if, despite the treatment having been completed, they had adapted me given the conditions I expressed regarding my parents, as if they weren't acting as caregivers, as if their job served as an excuse to fulfill that position from the perspective they can offer. Their pain over my situation, even though they didn't express it, was harsh, and this time, unlike what they could do with their friends or with someone other than the patient, they couldn't distance themselves from it, given that their duty was to care for me, and it remains that way. It's as if the grieving process they had to endure regarding me in order to transition to other patients had never ended.

It's strange. So, I have a new family, but the question is: How is this? Why did it happen to me? Why did I have to transition to a new family? This happened without anyone's permission; no one wanted this to happen. We're all giving in to our impulses just like that. We all turned our backs on the issue because there was no excuse to escape, but this time it's not possible. How could this have happened to me? Isn't it easier to walk around without family? I don't even see these doctors; they're distant. I vaguely know them, because of life's circumstances, on the same level of appreciation with which I view my parents. Why is it that I value them as family? I feel that the same distance I maintain with my family, I maintain with them. In fact, this doctor, who I didn't specify as my father but rather as my sister, was so distant, uncommunicative, she was my sister. What surprises me is that I experience this simple pattern of interaction as a substitute and satisfying family. I mean, I can't believe my family is so easy to replace. In fact, beyond them, I don't know anything, a question I experience with my blood family itself.

Is it that in my family, we are so empty? The doctors have given me vague interaction. Exactly what I've felt with my parents regarding working together. Is there so little in my family that unites us? The family relationship between us has been practical Especially that of us being in a work environment where my sister and I are the clients. How could this union have happened just like that? I can't believe my family is so simple and vague. I can't believe it. I can't believe I can replace it so easily. In fact, I feel more confident with these vague details.

I can't believe what I'm experiencing. And just like that, this emerged out of nowhere, just like that. With barely any planning. Furthermore, with selected personnel, I'm talking about doctors, for their work skills. What the heck was my family back then? I swore we were much more complex. Not one you could easily get anywhere. It makes me feel like my family, what we had between us, was just anything. Frankly, I can't believe it.

I feel like there was really nothing between my family and me. Not even with my sister and my parents, just a sad pity that camouflaged it. I never thought I'd discover this. Furthermore, the same frequency with which I see my parents is the same frequency with which I see the doctors I consider my parents. In fact, I trust the female one more, and she's the one who is open and concrete, a bit of a leader, just like my mother, and the male one is rude, drastic, but with a certain measure of restraint, and also authoritarian at times. I can't believe, I insist, that the same core group has formed as when I was at home, which for me was unstable and unstable, just as I experienced at the place where these doctors treated me. Furthermore, with the doctor I feel like my sister, equally distant, eccentric, lonely, and forced to do what she was doing to survive. I can't believe, I insist, that I've encountered the same core group of people.

What is my family then? A group of random people? What the heck did we have at home? Parents who propped up the situation as best they could, trying to get by without any success beyond support, and a sister who did whatever it took to look good with them and everyone else, while I was simply at the mercy of observation and finger-pointing. I insist, I can't believe the same modus operandi developed that existed at home; having, in other words, an emotional and rebellious inclination between my sister and me toward the world. I insist: What the hell did we have at home? Why did we have this at home? How could we have had such a simple, vague, and dysfunctional way of living together? Dysfunctional given that there was no review of the family's destiny despite the elements against it. What did we have at home? Simply, everyone pulling for themselves. The doctor I consider a father was distant from the case and didn't express it, like my mother. What did we have at home? It was everyone for themselves, after all, a sad attempt for each of us to survive. How could we have been so simple-minded? In this family, as a nucleus, there was no depth whatsoever. My parents, besides wanting to look good to those in authority, as always, and being clever at making one look bad, and acting as an inclusion.

Hey guys, so. I'm 13, and I have had eczema since I was 2. And one time with a dermatologist at 12, she did finally confirm I have eczema. I use moisturizers and hydrocortisone creams if it gets bad, and it's great. My new creams don't give me all that much hyperpigmentation, unlike other creams I've had, which is good! SO yeah. But a full-blown analysis, and the cause? Nah, no, it didn't happen. And I'm scared of dermatologists, because of many things. My grandpa used to be a dermatologist, and he used to be angry. Like, ultra-mad, so mad that as both an anesthesiologist and dermatologist, he'd yell at EVERYONE, when he'd have a patient he wouldn't really care, and when my dad (his son) got acne problems, the creams were so bad that if dad immediately stopped, his skin would dry fast and if he put the pimples would go but his skin would darken. And from watching dermatologists in movies and YouTube, they all seem very judgy, very weird, always obsessed with your skin (I know it's their job, but I mean OBSESSED), and would create new insecurities for you. And I've heard from my gut feelings if they're with teens, with any skin issues, they're gonna roast the hell out out of you, make you have more insecurities, and feel even worse about your look! Trust me, I have eczema and acne at the same time, and while cutting cashews has reduced my pimples, I get a teeny tiny amount of pimples right before my periods, but nothing horrible, unless the dermatologist says so and I need birth control. And eczema? How can a girl have it since 2?? I don't know, just how? I'm just weird like that. But yeah, I just feel weird, around any doctors. Like they'll only see me as some sort of sick body, and I already feel bad about my looks and chronic disease, because what if when I grow up, nobody would like me for it? All girlfriends I see online have perfect smooth skin. And I'm the crusty rock.

so like 2 days ago my bf didn't contact me for a little over 24hrs. now, i know he had tons of work to do, but he didn't tell me when he's gonna start and be busy so i got worried a bit after not hearing from him for so long, but then he texted the next morning saying he had so much work to the point he cried and got a headache, and still have more work after that :((, the thing is, we didn't even text for like an hour and hes gone doing work again.. btw im not like saying "oh he should've texted me more" no im saying that, that less then an hour text was the only break he got :(( and now he hasn't been texting since yesterday morning.. im just scared he's overworking himself :(( idk what to do.. i also like send him lots of texts throughout the day, but not like texts begging him to text back, i just text stuff like how im thinking about him, and how i love him and how proud i am of him, and that those texts are the only way i can give him support right now :( im scared i sent too many tho.. but like i care abt him.. i don't want him to come back after tons of work to a partner who doesn't or miss him yk?.. idk im scared idk what's gonna happen there's no signs of him..... i don't want to sleep what if i miss a text message from him

I'm sorry. It was my fault you felt bad. I didn't listen. I didn't think. Last time It went fine and you liked It and didn't felt bad and nothing happened and i felt overconfident. It's my fault and I'm sorry. And honestly? i always thought you were right. I am selfish and horrible and arrogant. I know. But tbh in the case at the very least there was a Little thing that would've spared us both the trouble, It's called Communication. Not that you would know. This morning before i even thought about cooking you said you had to eat something plain and simple for your stomach. When i was about to start cooking YOU SAID you wanted plain pasta and ASKED me to make It. And i did. Even after that I ASKED YOU "ARE YOU GONNA EAT THESE THINGS I'M MAKING TONIGHT OR ARE YOU GONNA EAT PLAIN AGAIN?" and you SAID "No. Do whatever you want. I can't eat them tonight." And i said "ok". ONLY AFTER THAT I PUT SEASONING YOU CAN'T EAT. bc YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GONNA EAT THEM ANYWAY. I WAS PLANNING TO SHARE THEM WITH YOU, I ASKED YOU SAID NO. end of It. Then you asked if i could make you bread with the dough. I knew for a fact the dough wasn't gonna be enough and i told you. "Probably not cause there's a lot. But I can make other dough if you want." Cause that Is kinda how It works. You want bread? You tell me and i make It for you bc you asked. You can't Just leave hints last minute and expect me to figure It out anyway. I tried to make more Dough for you bread you literally forbid me from doing It cause i was a selfish b. All of that, remembering the fact you asked me for something else (the pasta) and i make It for you cause that what you asked. I asked if you wanted share and you SAID no.

All of that when in normal circumstances i always share with you. When i have adapt recipes i always do. But when i don't share with you bc you SAID specifically NO. I'm the Monster. Ok. Sure. Whatever.

i dont even kno what’s wrong with me fr. like i try, i really do. i sit in class, i listen, i take notes, i study sometimes too but it just dont stick. like my brain hears the words but it dont do anything with it. everyone else gets it, the teacher explains stuff and they just nod like yep that makes sense and im sittin there with the same confused face i had from the start. it’s like everyone around me is in on some secret and im the only one who missed it. like the whole world gets how things work except me. and i hate it. i hate sittin there feelin dumb while people answer questions and i dont even kno what page we’re on. sometimes i laugh it off like haha im just stupid lol but inside it makes me feel so small. i see the grades come back and they suck every time, and no matter what anyone says it always feels like a punch in the gut. you just need to work harder, they say. try a different method, they say. like bruh, what do you think i been doing?? its not like i wanna fail. i go home and i got nothin to be proud of. my mom asks how school was and i lie, say it’s fine, but its not. i feel like the dumb one in every room, every group, every conversation. even my friends joke about it sometimes like oh that’s just you being slow again and i laugh cuz i dont want them to see how much it really gets to me.

i see smart kids and i wish i was like them. like how do they make it look so easy?? like they just know stuff. they get the grades, they get the praise, teachers like them, they get picked for things, nd im just… there. i dont even kno what im good at anymore. not school, not sports, not talkin to people, like what is even the point of me?? i feel like a mistake. like i was born broken or something. nd yeah maybe people will say dont be so hard on yourself or everyone learns differently but that don’t help when u the one failing every test. that don’t help when u see ur friends talkin about college and future jobs and im just tryna survive next period without crying. i get scared. like, what if this never changes? what if im always the one that don’t get it? what if im always the one people look at and feel sorry for? i wanna be smart. i wanna make my parents proud. i wanna have a future where i don’t feel useless every day. but right now? i just feel dumb. nd i keep askin myself why. why am i dumb? why cant i be normal? why does my brain feel like it hates me? no one gives answers that make sense. no one gets it. they just say stuff to make me feel better but they don’t know what it’s like. nd honestly, i don’t even kno how much longer i can take feeling like this every single day...

Hey me.

I see you sitting there, blasting Glass Half Empty on loop through your earbuds in the middle of class. I'm doing the same thing, too. Those lyrics are so relatable, aren't they? Anyway. I know Bowie, Trinity, and Harvie are still ignoring you. I know that Johne and Amelia still forget you're there sometimes. I know that Angel is your only friend left that sees and hears you. But hey, things'll get better. I think. You know, let's just reflect on the past four years before we get to high school. How's that sound? and when we're seniors, we'll reflect on our high school years too. Here we go:

Remember 5th grade? when you and Trinity first met? When you dated Livvie? Remember her? I forgot what school she goes to now... Oh well. But remember recess, playing with all of Trinity's little plastic animals? Remember there Kermits? You never did really become part of that... But that's besides the point. 5th grade was fun! I miss it. I bet you do too.

6th grade was when you met Amelia, Harvie, and Maddie. I still remember the exact places we sat at lunch. The third round table, and you always say next to Amelia. And you would give her your cheeseburger (which you got everyday) even though she had a lunchbox. Those were the good days... Ah well. They're gone now. But those days were easy, you never had to worry about whether or not your existence would be remembered the next day. EVeryone was interested in the same things, and we were all one friendgroup, and there was no stress about who liked who. That is, until you started liking Amelia. But you never asked her out, did you? I don't blame you. Stuff like that is really stressful.

And 7th grade! That was when you met Bowie, Angel, and Johne. Remember how you and Bowie started out? kinda awkward, I remember. Emma had been saying for a while that you and Bowie would be best friends. And you became best friends, didn't you! You two had such fun together. Then Trinity and Amelia started dating. Then you and Maddie started dating. Then you broke up with Maddie. And then you and Bowie started dating. 7th grade was ok.

But 8th grade... That's when everything fell apart. You broke up with Bowie, yet you two still stayed best friends. Nothing changed between you two, except maybe that you'd make jokes about when you two dated, things like, "why did I ever date you" whenever one of you did something dumb. But then... people started drifting. The friendgroup split in half. One half even moved tables at lunch. That was your half. And the other half stopped speaking to you and you only. Even Bowie, who was on that half. And then you started turning invisible with your own half. Even on your birthday. At least you still had Angel. But some days, you were invisible to even her. Depression got the best of you, didn't it? It still has me in its holds.

But listen to me now: you can't let yourself disappear. Get new friends. Ones who see you and hear you. Don't let the old ones turn you invisible. They don't define you. Even if things seem hopeless now, you'll get through this. You have to. And if you don't, then at least you tried, right? so try. Don't let go just yet. Don't give up until you can't go any further. It may seem like you can't now, but you can. Trust me. The apathy and depression may be bad, but you'll survive it all. Maybe. Possibly. You've almost made it to high school. Just keep pushing, and you'll get there. I get it, you want to just fizzle out, to just give up. But you can't. Keep going. Do it for Angel. For Sam, too, even though you can't talk to him anymore. But he'd want you to keep going. So keep going.

See you soon,

You.

Some days, I convince myself I’m fine that I’m exaggerating, that I’m seeking attention, that I should just be braver. Other days, the truth slips out quietly: I’m not okay.

Not broken.

Not hopeless.

Just not okay.

I’ve ignored that truth for a long time, hoping it would fade. It didn’t. It waited. And now it shows up in my body, in my sleep, in the days I can’t make myself go.

I don’t want to disappear from my life.

I don’t want anxiety to decide for me.

I just want someone even myself to believe that what I’m feeling is real, even if it doesn’t look dramatic from the outside.

Maybe this chapter isn’t about weakness at all.

Maybe it’s about how long I’ve been strong without being held.

I love my job. After I finished maternity leave I looked for a job that I could turn into career down the line and a place I would be happy at vs switching jobs over and over for years to come. The job is great, the benefits are amazing. They even sent us on a spa day three months into me working there. Now I’ve been there almost 2 years and the employees still barely talk to me, they don’t invite me to hang out outside of work, and they don’t even notify me of changes they make to MY daily schedule.

**Note, I’ve been promoted twice since I started working there because my main focus is to learn, do the job and do it correctly. Other employees, as previously mentioned, my plans to hang out rather than doing the job.

Now we have a new doctor (AKA) boss to which I am the direct assistant to. The office is throwing her a welcome party and it’s not mandatory for me to go but it would look weird for me not to considering my position.

The thing is, this is a casual, after work, off the clock event that they’ve invited the office and their families to. I don’t want to go. I don’t and won’t feel comfortable sitting around for three to five hours with an office full of people that don’t like me. I’m allowed to bring my two year old but I can’t bring a friend or sibling or grandparent to help me watch him while I mingle (which is the purpose of the event). When they said we can bring family, they mean spouse or significant other , neither of which I have.

Am I wrong for not wanting to attend this party??

This is a story about my friend. She was married and then she got divorced from her spouse. They divorced because he cheated. Well, just like most stereotypes, he married the woman he cheated with. It's been several years since the divorce, so now my friend and her ex are on good terms.

My issue (and why I need advice) is about the fact I found out my friend is actually sleeping with her ex husband. He's married still to wife #2. She told me how they're in love and how they try and sneak off any chance they get to hook up.

I don't feel comfortable with that and now knowing all about it. I don't think it should matter that his current wife is the woman he cheated with the first time and now he's cheating on her. Cheating is wrong. Two wrongs don't make a right.

What should I do? Should I do anything at all?

i don’t think i’ve ever truly enjoyed working. sure, i’ve had jobs that were tolerable, coworkers i liked, even the occasional project that gave me a sense of pride. but if i’m being honest, that’s rare. most days, i wake up and feel this dull, heavy feeling in my chest knowing i have to go to work. and it’s not like i’m lazy — i show up, i do what i’m supposed to, i meet deadlines, i get along with people. but deep down, there’s this constant voice whispering, “this isn’t it.” and i know i’m not the only one who feels this way. it’s like we’re all pretending that this is normal — spending 40+ hours a week doing stuff we don’t care about, answering emails no one wants to write, attending meetings that could’ve been a message. 🫠

sometimes i wonder if we just accepted the wrong premise altogether. like, why do we build our lives around work? shouldn't work support our lives instead? i once heard someone say, “we weren’t born just to pay bills and die,” and yeah, it sounds cliché, but it hits. i look around at friends, neighbors, even random people online — everyone’s exhausted. mental health’s in the gutter, burnout is the new baseline, and people still keep grinding like there’s some magical reward at the end of the tunnel. but what is it, really? a promotion? a bigger house? maybe a retirement plan if we’re lucky? the truth is, most of us are stuck in jobs that drain us, just to afford things that numb us enough to keep going. i’m not saying we all quit and live off the grid (although it sounds tempting on bad days 😅), but maybe it’s time we ask ourselves: is this how it’s supposed to be?

i try to stay grateful — i have a job, i have an income, and i know others have it worse. but still, it’s exhausting pretending that everything's fine when it’s not. people say “find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” but that’s a joke, right? even stuff i’m passionate about turns into a chore once it’s tied to a paycheck. monetizing hobbies just sucks the joy out of them. and yeah, maybe this is just a rant, but it feels like we need to stop romanticizing hustle culture and start talking about how unsustainable this whole system is. how are we supposed to live meaningful lives when our best energy is spent on things that barely fulfill us? i don’t have the answers, but maybe asking the right questions is where it starts. so, do you really love what you do — or are you just surviving like the rest of us?

you open yourself up to people and feel doomed for failure.

you've played this tune before.

you've been here before.

but now it's through a screen, now you can't reach them.

its the first time ive allowed myself to make genuine, real online friends. and its great, but i forgot that i make friends with some of the most mentally unstable people on earth. so im dissociated, shaken, petrified because one of our friends just described their dad beating them, then after how they were cutting their own stomach open, playing with their organs, and waiting to bleed out.

and the five minutes they didnt respond felt like hours.

and then they were okay, and didnt do it only because they didnt want us telling their irl friend. then they got mad at me for telling their irl.

they played one of my alltime favorite songs, Army Dreamers by Kate Bush. I saw it on their Discord status, while they were bleeding out. Suddenly I don't like that song anymore.

just last night we also dealt with the owner of the server being sent to a psych ward, then being rejected entry.

i have midterms this week, im dealing with my own fucked up emotions and feelings, and all my friends want to be dead.

i don't easily want to hurt myself, when i do its from extremely bad stress. im gonna see if i can get high tonight on something, anything. im so done with the real world. its not just this, its everything. its politics, its school, its my gender, its anxiety, and its my friends. and still its so much more. everything feels inescapable.

i want to live. im too scared of death for anything drastic. but i wanna find a way where i dont have to think about life so much. a place inbetween.

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?

Suicide is justified

why shouldn’t we choose to exit? Death is inevitable anyway whether I die at 17, 47, or 89, the end is the same. Nothing makes me happy anymore. Helping, studying, relationships don’t fill the void so why keep patching something unfixable? Even if life improves later, that’s still a gamble right now suffering feels endless, and it’s unfair to force someone to endure just because “it might get better.” Life feels like theft, not gift born without consent, condemned to suffering, then robbed by death.

suicide isn’t just “choice,” it’s the end of all choices. If you exit now, you deny your future self the possibility of ever choosing differently. The amount of life experienced is the difference. If meaning is something you can create, then more time = more possibility. the void isn’t eliminated, it’s carried differently. That shift (existential acceptance) changes how much power the void has. Suicide blocks that possibility forever. I agree but I have no motivation to play this game.

you can decide whether to treat life as a burden or a canvas. The injustice of being born doesn’t mean the only justice is exit. Suicide hands victory to those who hurt you; living (even broken, even with void) is resistance. I agree and I don't want victories anymore.

I may never “fix” happiness, but i can still create meaning or peace and that possibility only exists if i stay. Right?? Yes but pain is unbearable and there's no way I can fill this void.

Uncertainty Principle (Heisenberg) Nothing is 100% fixed. Even particles don’t have definite positions/velocities until observed. Exactly: The “permanence” of my void is also uncertain. Just like particles, my inner state isn’t fixed. As we know Quantum Superposition A particle can exist in many states at once until measured.

Science and medicine can’t fill a void; it can change conditions so that the void stops swallowing everything. It can raise the floor (sleep, nutrition, meds), loosen the grip (therapy skills), and make room where meaning-making is possible.

“In quantum mechanics, X (a cause) doesn’t force only one effect (Y). It creates a range of possible outcomes {Y, Z, A…}. Which one becomes real depends on interaction/observation in life, that’s your choices and actions, But Possibility ≠ happiness it is only the chance. The void remains, yet the collapse is yours."

Suicide is a rational solution to suffering. you can't know what comes after death. If it's nothingness, yes, suffering ends. But if it's something (unknown state, spiritual consequence, ripple effect), the assumption breaks. I believe in nothingness. Life has no inherent meaning suicide is neither wrong nor right. Life has no meaning but precisely because of that, we must create our own meaning. Suicide "skips the responsibility" of creating. Yes, life is suffering, but the measure of a human is how they bear suffering and turn it into strength. Ending it early is abandoning your post. Since you didn't choose birth, the only place you do have choice is what you make out of this forced existence. Isn't it cruel to ask someone drowning in despair to wait for an uncertain tomorrow, when their suffering is certain today? void of meaninglessness certainty vs possibility. I Don't ask "what makes me happy?" I Ask "what makes me 2% lighter?" Still nothing works I'm not happy anymore. I used to believe When meaning is present, happiness sneaks back as a by-product. But I'm Wrong. Same with emotional rewiring. Only from stability can happiness grow. But slowly I'm feeling it will not work. Years of disappointment/ trauma condition me to "not expect joy" so even when it's there, i don't trust it. It's not the genuine happiness I feel. My brain doesn't take it. I have seen through the game of "do this be happy." i realize the loop is empty so happiness feels fake. I agree partially, studying 24/7

doesn't give me happiness but it can give me purpose. "Purpose sustains you when happiness can't." I do partially agree.

The unfair part of life is that we didn't choose to be born yet we're expected to carry on as if there's nothing wrong. When we didn't decide to whom or how we're born, why should we continue living a miserable life when there's a way out? There is far too much obsession with "success" and material gain, and not enough empathy. Suicide isn't selfish. What's truly selfish is neglecting someone so badly to the point that they want to kill themselves.

I feel like the only reason that suicide wouldn't be justified in the ultimate sense) is if your life still contains obligations (unfinished responsibilities to others, society, or even to yourself).

I don't feel happy... there's no happiness trust me.

He was my first love. I loved him. But he didn't love me back. I was always there for him, if he needed me. Always there. Always. Yet he abandoned me. It Ruined me. I can't love anyone, the way i loved him.

you know, I've been cruising around on this application a lot, and I've seen tons of folks saying "this too shall pass," but honestly, I don't 100% get it, like, is it some existential thing or just a fancy phrase to throw around when stuff hits the fan? 🤔 I've seen it on different threads, and it's like an invisible hand trying to pat people on the back when they're down, but does it really work that way? it makes me think: is there a magic moment when you know things are finally over, like some official "passing" ceremony? It's a bit funny, isn't it? when stuff is bad, we kind of hold onto this phrase like it's gonna save the day or something. but then again, when things are good, we're all hoping they don't "pass" like the good times should just hang around forever. It's like needing assurances that bad times are temporary while secretly praying the good stuff stays put. 🙃 Then again, I remember someone said "these too shall pass" while quoting that ancient king who wanted a phrase that'd put things into perspective irrespective of a situation; isn't it wild how something from way back then is like, still relevant now? Our great-grandparents probably even used that line, and now here we are, borrowing from their wisdom. So, maybe it's not about timing but how we perceive situations and hold onto hope; or, is it more about prepping ourselves to ride the ups and downs without freaking the heck out?

In a day-to-day setting, it's helpful in giving people assurance and making them feel like there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but with a seemingly perpetual cycle of passing and waiting for new days or events to occur, how do you stay grounded? sometimes I wonder if it's the world's way of saying also "hey, don't get too comfy," like a gentle nudge that life's dynamic and unpredictable, and that maybe no state of being is set in stone. And then, there are those people who casually drop "this too shall pass" as if they've got some golden master-key for all life's locks, and it makes me chuckle 'cause it's like, no one actually has the entire rule book for surviving life's storms, right? It's like we're all kindergartners in the grand school of life. Plus, the word "pass" sounds so passive and laid-back, almost like we're waiting for a magical transformation that requires no active participation, which is kind of comforting yet peculiar at the same time. Perhaps needing a phrase or philosophy that just sits with you on rough days without leaving a mark can be a strong enough testament to its value. "this too shall pass," even if not instantly comprehensible in its entirety, may indeed hold the soothing balm of enduring hope bundled in mere words, like a lifeline extended through time; and, wouldn't it be crazy if understanding its meaning was less about comprehension and more about how it feels? Seriously, stick those words somewhere prominent and let time scribe their meaning onto your soul with experience. just curious though: how do you guys see it? does it resonate like a silent companion during tough times, or does it all just seem overrated and blown out of proportion, in your opinion? 🤔 because sharing these phrases, seeking clarity, and expanding our grasp could be the start of untangling the threads of such enigmatic maxims. anyways, take care and good luck with the unraveling of life's chaos.