Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

Basically at my high school we all have majors, I am a tech major. We have this project that’s due nearing the end of the year. The project being creating a mechanical or electrical work of your own. The issue is, I’ve never managed to do anything good at all for this project. It’s my senior year and know they’re asking me to do 2 of them and I just can’t. I feel so ashamed and like such a failure of a person because I can’t do what everyone else can. In my freshman year they just stuck me with another group because I couldnt fucking do anything right. They always act like I’m supposed to be this genius and I’m just an idiot. And since now I’m a senior they won’t accept anything that isn’t “senior quality” and it’ll be a zero. I fucking hate my life and this school I don’t why I haven’t given up yet. I’m tired of not being good enough.

my boyfriend asked to give us some time and space, that he’s really stressed right now. I don’t know if that’s just gonna lead to a breakup or what that means for our relationship. He said a week but I’m still feeling anxious about it.

Both of my parents have decided not to attend my upcoming wedding in September, leaving me completely devastated. I am about to marry an incredible woman, yet my mother has abruptly refused to participate due to personal grievances, and my father, estranged for nearly a decade and from a culture that does not accept lesbian marriages, is hesitant about attending due to potential discomfort.

My mother's reservation stems from having to share the space with my uncle who, in the past, reported her to Child Protective Services when my stepfather was abusing myself and my brother—a situation she had been hiding. Although the intervention was justified, my mother has harbored resentment towards my uncle ever since, and she accused me of betrayal for confiding in him. She insists on maintaining her boundaries, even if it means missing her own daughter's wedding. To me, it feels like she could set aside her grievances for just one day, but she views my upset as an overreaction.

The situation has left me both angry and powerless. I wonder if my expectations are unreasonable or if my feelings are validly profound.

Imagine if this personal turmoil were unfolded on a reality TV show—cameras rolling as each family drama layer revealed itself in front of a national audience. The viewers would likely be split, some empathizing deeply with emotional struggles and familial rifts, while others might view the conflicts as overly dramatic or fabricated for ratings. The episode would likely stir up significant discussions on family dynamics, personal boundaries, and the importance of support during significant life events.

im 16, and i have never felt worse about myself than i do right now and these last few weeks.

since i was a little kid, ive been in bad homes. No matter who i was living with, it has always been filthy and disfunctional. right this instant im living in probably the 2nd or 3rd worst home ive ever lived in. its filthy and miserable. i have a decently severe weed addiction that i adopted in november 2023 after smoking for the first time in august of that same year. my dad got me started (and still supplies me with it) and i dont really hate him for that? i might have killed myself a long time ago if it wasnt for the emotional suppression that weed does to me. Im probably high more than im sober. the weed addiction isnt that bad to be honest but i thought its relevant.

Covid fucked my one good relationship with my old best friend connor. barely talk to him anymore and the majority of my friends are online. I do online school right now, because going to school makes me want to kill myself.

but the thing is, i dont have many real life friends. and that fucking sucks. i dont do anything at all most days other than fuck around on games or fl studio. i have a job too but that doesnt help too much.

im fat. 248lbs at the moment and losing. its alot better than what i was (around 330-350 i dont fully remember). i feel like no one could stand looking at me in a romantic way because of my weight, which realistically i know thats not entirely true. my face isnt much better, i dont consider myself ugly, but i visibly look like my mother, and it fucks me up. i have a very bad relationship with her that i would need a seperate post to go into. tldr for that one is i havent seen her in person in 2 years almost, and she never calls me because shes a heavy drug addict, basically addicted to anything you could think of.

When i was 14 my life (which was already pretty shitty) went to hell. we got evicted due to our disgusting house. thats mostly because of my sisters and my dumb as fuck family who thought we could handle 2 extra drug babies who are not right mentally. after we got evicted, we moved in with my extended family for like 2 months. Thats 12 people in a 3 bedroom house. i hated it. but i got my first experience with my own room. because up until then i was always given the living room to sleep in because i was the oldest. when i lived with the extended family, they gave me a room to myself for some reason. something about genders shouldnt mix? theyre pretty conservative. after 2 months of living with them, we had to leave. we moved into an extremely shitty hotel, one room for everybody, 2 beds. then we moved into a much worse hotel that had 2 rooms. but super infested with roaches. i got so depressed i was getting physically sick. i stayed home from school for a week. after a while, i couldnt take it anymore. i moved in with my dad and here we are now. im writing this while its 5 am so this is gonna be hard to read, sorry its all fucked up and disjointed. honestly theres like 9 other things i wanted to include but maybe another time.

TL;DR

shitty house, shitty family, loneliness, and the want to kill myself

i really need someone to talk to

i’m a 16 year old girl, laying in my bed, and something is genuinely fucked in my head- people say that for attention and people say that like they want it but this isn’t that- for the past 6 years i’ve had extreme antisocial tendencies as proclaimed by my psychiatrist, and i just don’t know what to do. i feel stuck. i don’t know how to change in an environment that insists that i cannot and never will. i really just need someone to talk to; i told a real life friend, they thought i was insane. i need the anonymity.

A couple of years ago, I had a fight with my dad over getting my device taken away from me. While I was leaving the argument, I slammed the door behind me due to how pissed I was. My dad proceeded to open the door, grab my wrists and give me a huge smack and yell at me. My sister and mum were away at this moment so I went to cry on the couch without an apology.

A few years later, we go to this cat cafe one day to shoot the breeze. He tells me he booked an appointment but going up to the receptionist, she says the appointment didn't register. He starts yelling and complaining while I'm just standing there awkwardly. I look over to the only customer in the waiting room and he looks awkward too. I remember while walking out of the building I heard him say something about leaving a negative review on the business' google page and I'm just over it. It was only half an hour later at a shopping centre where on top of that embarrassing moment he kept on yelling at me that I own barely any clothes that I broke down where he continue badgering me about why I was crying (read the room, dipshit).

Tonight I was eating dinner with my dad and sister, I put in yoghurt into my food and said to my dad "you put out yoghurt instead of sour cream" which we typically put on this meal instead. I give him sort of a joking-annoyed face and he suddenly goes ballistic about my attitude (the pot calls the kettle black...) and basically throws the sour cream and a spoon onto the table. I continued eating my dinner in silence and then went to my room. An hour later he comes in and apologises, which would have been fine but he gets anger at these small things so frequently that I'm having a hard time accepting it but basically says that its my fault for having an attitude.

These are only a few instances of shitty things he's done because if I listed them all, this post would be a novel. I'm just so sick of him. He's such a miserable sod and so damn hypocritical that I'm surprised my parents are still together when its obvious my mum is afraid of him too (for instance, after another 'yelling at employee' incident, my sister starts to complain and mum basically responds with "let's just see how he goes" instead of doing anything about it). I like to think I'm a forgiving person and I try to give the benefit of the doubt but he makes it so damn difficult. It feels like I'm walking on eggshells every time I do something remotely mean-spirited. I honestly might just dump him in a retirement village when I'm older if this continues.

As a Muslim woman who chooses to wear the hijab, I strictly adhere to the conviction of covering my hair and most of my body as a gesture of faith and modesty. My choice in this regard is personal and based on my religious beliefs; I respect the choices of others who may be different from my own while not imposing my values on them.

Recently, I attended the bachelorette party of my longtime friend, Layla, just before her wedding. Layla, who isn’t particularly religious, has always respected my customs – she even selected a modest-style abaya for me to wear as her maid of honor. Our understanding always made me comfortable in our friendship, believing that she appreciated the significance of my hijab.

At the all-women gathering, I felt relaxed enough to remove my hijab since we were amidst close friends and planned an overnight stay. The fun evening included watching movies and taking pictures and videos – memories captured among friends, meant to stay private. I assumed these images were confined to our chat groups.

However, after driving home the next day, I saw that Layly had tagged me in a public Instagram post where my hair was visible. I immediately contacted her to kindly remove the image or at least cover my hair in the photo. Surprisingly, Layla objected, citing that there were no better photos and that I was overreacting. Troubled by her response, I suggested cropping me out or modifying the image, but she was adamant that it wouldn’t look right.

Feeling upset, I expressed my concerns in our group chat, hoping for support. Opinions were divided; some friends sided with me, understanding my request for privacy, while others, led by one who often opposes me, disregarded my feelings. Layla defended her position by saying the wedding stress was overwhelming her, although I don't see how this issue relates to her wedding preparations.

Amidst this, I couldn’t help but wonder, if my situation were part of a reality TV show, would the audience perceive my reaction as an overreaction or see it as a justified call for personal respect and privacy? The nature of reality TV often skews true intentions for dramatic effect, potentially magnifying my distress or trivializing it to entertain an audience.

Am I unreasonable in wanting respect for my privacy and religious practices, or is it too much to expect friends to understand and honor my personal choices?

i’m a high school senior and i’m dating a guy younger than me. he’s had one other girlfriend and people have told me they hooked up but we’ve never talked about it. ive had other boyfriends but i never had sex with them, though i have been assaulted outside of a relationship. i alluded to this when he asked if i was a virgin - prior to this event happening. we were talking for around two months and basically dating already when he was over at my house for the second time. we were watching a movie and making out, it was going fine. we had kissed before but not much more than that. he whispered in my ear “would it be so bad?” and i didn’t know what to say. i asked him what he meant but i knew, i told him it was too soon and gave the excuse that he’s too young (im a year and a half older). he told me no one would know and said he was consenting, but i just told him i didn’t know if it was a good idea. his hands made it into my pants and i asked if he was a virgin but then he paused and made an odd face before shaking his head. i went back to watching the movie but he asked a few more times. i just went silent because i didn’t know what to do. i kissed him and turned back around, the first time he came to my house he did the same thing to the point i took him home because i was upset. when he asked if the kiss meant a yes i didn’t say anything but then he pulled my pants down. i didn’t say anything because i just froze up and my heart was racing and i was scared but idk. he put it in and asked if it hurt and i didn’t respond even though it did. at one point i must have been so freaked out that he got scared too and pulled out, i think i was reliving something but this was a while ago. i felt a lot of emotions but i couldn’t or wouldn’t i guess say anything. i forgot what happened but he went to the bathroom and came back and i felt very conflicted. he noticed something was up and kept asking me what was wrong until i hugged him because i didn’t know what was wrong. i drove him home but after dropping him off i cried all the way home and sat in my driveway. i thought a lot about it for the next few days and i felt extremely conflicted, i cant even put a name to the emotions i was feeling. i told my best friend a week later thinking it would be fun gossip or something but i also felt like i needed to tell someone and she was disgusted. i started crying and she told me that it wasn’t okay but i wasn’t mad at him. he’s been through a lot so i feel very bad for him sometimes and he’s younger so he doesn’t know a lot and i couldn’t bring myself to agree with her about him assaulting me. the next few times he was over he kept asking and i said no, i texted him about a month later explaining how i was assaulted and i didn’t like that he was pressuring me when i already said no. he apologized a lot and it hasn’t happened since. we’ve been officially dating a couple months now and we’ve hooked up more, but i kind of feel like it hasn’t happened again because i haven’t said no again. i’ve talked to a few more of my friends about it and they all look sad and tell me it’s not okay. i just love him a lot and he’s very very sweet to me so it just doesn’t feel like assault. i don’t feel any kind of way about it right now but a while ago my best friend brought it up again and i had a meltdown so maybe im just blocking it out. she hates him and refuses to be around him over this. i haven’t considered breaking up with him over it and i haven’t voiced any of this to him, i just wanted to see what people thought.

I don't feel like writing much, because it will be problematic later, very unstable. When I leave, I don't know if I'll be able to carry this sense of coherence there, wherever I am, to manage myself as if I were here, calm, relaxed, at the mercy of all the available services, as I should have outside. Outside, there's nothing that allows me to recharge with confidence. I don't even feel the possibility of having the same space, of anything. I have no stability outside; there's nothing that allows me to feel settled, that allows me to feel calm, relaxed. Right now, I'm going through all that stress, the feeling that I can't create the same environments with apps as I do here, with this calm. I feel my calm is conditional, bitter, meaningless, as if the future will be worse. I feel like I have to pretend nothing's wrong, like nothing's happening, just like when I go to the office. While I'm experiencing one thing on the outside, I'm experiencing something else entirely there, and I always try to make everything an extension of myself. Somehow, I can't keep fighting to hold on; it's not in my nature. It's feeling like I'm not living my life in harmony with the present circumstances, to gain control, to be able to dominate them. It's feeling like life is abandoning me in this holistic way, that the people aren't giving me the tools to deal with the problems.

Wow, I'm also exhausted from talking, talking, and talking. My boss is such a defensive person; he sees everything as a threat. Anything that deviates from his norms, anything that exposes him, he attacks. He goes against everyone, acting in the hope that people won't do anything, perpetuating the battle until the very end, hoping for some light that will pull him out of it, but it's not like that. I didn't allow it in the final moments. He tries to operate through omissions, so that no one can say anything, and that's not being with others. He acts as if nothing is wrong, as if everything is a fit of anxiety. Sure, people leave him, betray him—it's incredible the world that guy lives in. Always checking, always verifying. With such insecurity, perhaps it would be better for him to go to a cave or his house, because he feels he has to impose his will on everyone. Well, that's how I've felt I've had to operate with the apps, when I write and write, trying to control the space, to spread ideas, possible movements. Indeed, after the incidents with him, where people initially saw me as the stranger, and then they saw him, definitively, because it was indeed happening.

The guy's a scoundrel, he takes things for what he wants, that's why he's always in that state of panic and intense stress, and you ask him to understand. Frankly, I'm tired of giving him excuses to come back. I've already built a wall with him; I wasn't going to let him return. I was going to make him regret coming back, to make him realize that returning to me would come with consequences, which is exactly what he didn't want—something that would affect him and be reversible. If I don't treat him severely, the guy won't leave. Well, that's how I had to treat my father to put him in his place. It's exhausting writing. I feel that pressure from when I left, when I felt like I was writing under pressure, not writing for fear of losing the data on the device. I felt that thing that made me unable to write, but rather cling to it, let myself go because there would be no risk, because there would be nothing to motivate me to move quickly to achieve my goal. I feel like it's self-sabotage in some way. I can't work with my boss, it's impossible. The guy is too unstable for me. He's always getting involved in shady dealings, he doesn't take care of himself at all, he's always covering up problems instead of solving them, he acts impulsively and recklessly. I can't be with him, it's impossible, and believe me, I tried to mediate all of that, but he didn't take advantage of it. He thinks he knows everything, and he doesn't. I don't want to think what it would have been like if this had happened to me, precisely because I acted according to my own words and not according to the collective's. He got to the other extreme and then just detached himself, ignoring all the evidence. At least I have the benefit of the ethics of evidence.

It's so annoying to write under stress, knowing that I have limitations. I wish I weren't focused on limitations, but rather on feeling that something that leads to the infinite, without problems. My boss always wanted everything to be at his mercy, no matter what, regardless of anything, so he could be at ease and move forward, without worrying about whether I could do anything unless it suited him. Everything was for him, by him, and without having asked permission. I felt like I was being held captive by him, and if I said anything, he would accuse me of wrongdoing, with that authoritarian attitude he adopted, and then say, "Well, I agreed." It was an abuse of power, that way he didn't control me.

Frankly, I'm not in the mood for my boss. He started to back down when he saw his own actions leading him to ruin, to fall for nothing. That's why he isolated himself from me more and more, to avoid problems. But things reached a breaking point because he was neglecting his work; he wasn't facing the staff in front of him. He was avoiding them in a way. He only wanted what was under his control, what he chose, what he could dominate. The guy was that awful with his employees and thought we didn't notice. Frankly, I'm not interested in his life; I'm only interested in doing my job. How unpleasant! The guy always acts like everything's fine, like he treats me well so he doesn't seem bad, and believe me, I've made him stick his tongue out at me several times. His faces and gestures didn't work this time to cover up his dirty tricks. I told myself he wasn't going to get away with this, no matter what games he played. I wasn't going to put up with his drama. Frankly, it's time that guy realized he's at a job, not some place where he thinks he can do whatever he pleases. There are responsibilities, there are relationships, and this time, using the office as a shield is isolating himself from everyone else, from the hierarchy, from his duties. It's the worst thing he could have done, and yet he thinks he's a god because of it, the best, the absolute best, and that's not how it works. I'm not going to be with him, and it infuriates me to say that. I had to tell him in the worst way possible because after the tragedies in my country, when he came looking for me, after everything he did to me, to help him in the office, I shut him down. I didn't even ask how he was. The guy had to understand once and for all.

The guy thinks you're only with him as long as he sees some hope of coming back, of giving in. He considers the physical abuse temporary, thinking that ignoring him because it doesn't last forever means it's just a passing thing, but it's not. When the top management in the office told me about a pending task, he assumed it was a favor, as if I were out of the office or something. But no, he's not in charge there; those higher-ups are, and I made that clear to him. I honestly didn't care how he felt or how nervous he was. I was going to make him respect me as an employee, and I was fed up with him being so clueless, with him seeing everything as his personal domain, his personal kingdom in the office, which it isn't. Because of that mindset, I hurt my friend. I resolved, even before the authorities got involved, to eradicate it. But with the authorities' involvement, it turned out to be an invasive tactic, a way for them to establish themselves in those spaces, for all the other reasons. The guy was trying to provoke me into conflict on all sides, but I wouldn't let him. He tried to doubt me, my abilities, to extract information from me, but I wouldn't allow it. I had no reason to. I don't have to give him information about what should be done; it's time he got his bearings.

Three years into our marriage, my husband Mark and I, along with our young son, decided to relocate from Canada to Germany due to economic issues at home. We settled in Hannover, close to where Mark grew up. The move was exciting, and initially, everything felt like a fresh start.

The day after our arrival, we visited Mark’s family—it was only my second time meeting them since our wedding. They welcomed us warmly, making quite a fuss over my son, which was endearing at first. However, in the subsequent months, things took a turn. During our visits, I noticed they would often switch to German when discussing me—commenting on my appearance, my style, and even my pregnancy, which I was already sensitive about.

Disturbed by these revelations, I confided in Mark about the hurtful remarks I overheard. He assured me he’d speak to them about their behavior. It seemed to work because their offensive remarks stopped, at least for a short while.

When our daughter Lilith was born—a name deeply rooted in my family's tradition despite its evocative meanings like “night” or “ghost”—his family couldn’t hide their disapproval. This criticism was tough, leading me to distance myself from them for a while.

Recently at a family gathering for my mother-in-law's birthday, the rudeness reached a new height. As guests fawned over baby Lilith, my mother-in-law grew visibly irate due to the diverted attention. I was already struggling with postpartum depression and was not comfortable with people handling my newborn. During dinner, I overheard my sister-in-law bitterly criticizing me to my mother-in-law in German, calling me derogatory names.

Fed up, I confronted them in fluent German, expressing that I’ve understood their jibes all this time, but insulting me directly was unacceptable. The table erupted in chaos—everyone blaming me for the outburst. Overwhelmed, Mark and I left, and we’ve not engaged with them since.

Thinking about the outcome makes me wonder, if my story was part of a reality show, how might audience reactions be shaped? Reality TV thrives on conflict and dramatic reactions, and no doubt, this unsettling family dinner would make a compelling episode. Viewers might side with me for standing up to the harsh treatment or perhaps criticize me for my response to the family’s behavior. It's fascinating and a bit alarming to think of personal strife as a public spectacle, but it could also be a platform to discuss genuine issues like postpartum depression and family dynamics.

Am I bad here???

So, I've been rather lonely for the past couple of years. About 6 years, in fact. Physically speaking I am not lonely,I've always had caring family and friends around me. But emotionally, I've felt detached and disorientated for the past few years. I've been mentally unstable,have attempted to kill myself about 3 times, and also self harmed a lot (I've been clean of self harm for a few months, though, fortunately.)

Anyways.For me, nothing beats feeling lonely than playing truth or dare with yourself and postinsetting up questions asking about my own day in a fake chat to try and cheer myself up.I don't understand a few things,to be honest. Why do i feel lonely even though there's so many people keeping me company? What did I do to deserve all these wonderful and caring human beings? Unlike them, I'm nothing good. I'm practically just a worthless parasite, and yet they all put up with me. My family, friends, and practically everyone I know. I don't understand how someone can like something like me. I'm just worthless anyways. But yet I want to be loved. My minds been a conflicting and overwhelming mess for years now, and I still don't know how to manage it. Somedays I find myself getting better. Somedays I find myself back in this loop of confusion and frustration. I don't want to continue being like this. I want to be happy with everyone else. So I guess I'll try again. I've failed, sure, multiple times. But I'll try again. And I'll keep trying. I'm going to die anyways. We all are. So since it's inevitable,might as well give life a small chance.

Here comes another sleepless night because all I can do is cry and think. Think about what normal people would call nonsense, but in this case it just… all adds up. So… I’ve been with my bf for more than a year. Since the beginning things were difficult. We would argue often, he wanted to break up multiple times, and I ended up turning my life upside town and changing 90% of me, mostly to „become myself again” and escape the influence of people I called friends, but I know that some things I did were all and only for him to stay. Now this part is almost „stable”, even tho there are still things that are wrong about me and I am aware of that and the cause of all of this (family issues, the fucked up way I was raised). But… ever since I can remember my bf used to mention his ex often. Always in a good way, recalling good memories etc. He told me A LOT about their relationship, how their mother liked him, how they liked to spend time together, damn he even sent me multiple pictures of them together MULTIPLE TIMES… I remember one time I said something bad about his ex, out of jealousy when he was talking about them again, and he got all protective, and almost aggressive like I just insulted someone important to him. He’s been never intimate with his ex, but he is with me every fucking time we see each other and this also makes me sick. Makes me feel like I’m his little cum bucket, walking piece of meat (mostly tits, ass and thighs) even tho he said he never saw me only in this way. I just can’t… when I recall the things he told me about his relationship with his ex, and when I compare it to what we have, I’m starting to fucking cry, because I feel like I’m never gonna be such an amazing partner like his ex was, I feel like he’s with me just to have anybody by his side. I can’t take the fact that I had to change so, so much only for him to not want to leave me, but his ex just came to his life and he was obsessed with them. They never annoyed him, but he told me multiple times how annoying can I get. Damn, he even told me how his ex would get him out of toxic activities, and how they would help him with his mental health etc, BUT I KNOW DAMN WELL I CANT DO SHIT LIKE THEM CUZ MY MOTHER NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO SHOW LOVE. I… I feel like I’m not even his real partner. Like I’m just there to fill the empty space. They broke up almost 2 years ago but still I can feel he misses them, but he’s never gonna admit it. He’s just comfortable with me. With chunks of meat to grab and sexualize. I wanna tear my fucking skin and replace it with his exes because maybe if I became them he would be finally happy and would not want to leave… I’m such a fuck up. I think I’m gonna cry again. Idk how this site works, I have no friends because I was kind of forced to cut ties with them, and I don’t have the strength to talk to anyone.

And wish it'd been an actual bicycle instead. I'm a bisexual man living in an authoritarian homophobic country. A few years ago I experienced a heart-shattering breakup, as my only soulmate and only physical relationship I've had (a girl) left me over something stupid I did (got expelled from university and hid it from her; it was more the broken trust aspect of it to her than anything). I hadn't been a very happy man before that either. All my life I've felt isolated and alienated, being bisexual, overly sensitive, overweight, nerdy, introverted, and teetotal. I grew a thick shell around me to silence my inner child/core being and reduce the sensitiveness, and it worked. But it turned out that love brings it all back out, the good and the bad.

My soulmate was the only person I've ever felt a deep connection to, who felt like someone who really understood me or at least parts of me better than anyone could. With her gone, and most of my immediate family dead to cancer, Alzheimer's, heart attacks and whatnot, I was at a complete loss. I retreated back into my shell, and it was all extinguished again, the good and the bad. My capacity for tender, genuine love - which she'd been surprised greatly by, only knowing me as the sarcastic jester - and my oversensitivity, which sometimes caused me to read too much into some poorly communicated words or actions. I was in great pain for a few months and slept a lot, until the death throes ceased, and I went back to this bland apathetic existence of a dead inside sarcastic cynic.

Until a few days ago, when it felt like some kind of other person took control of my body. I'd been noticing it for a while, the ever-increasing buildup inside of me towards homosexual attraction. While normally I was more interested in women, I'd been noticing more and more attraction to men these last years. It lasted longer than usual and felt much stronger. And finally, something within broke and gave in to the urges. I found the two biggest underground resources for gay dating that still remained in my country and posted a profile there. I knew it was stupid, with every ounce of my rationality remaining, but I couldn't help but watch from the sidelines as the other me was overtaken by the fantasy of someone replying to my profile, and me getting to kiss a boy for the first time in my life...

But of course, nothing happened. I know, I know, it's even dumber to expect results in just a few days. However, there are a few things you can't escape from. A few people left comments like "well damn" and "pfft, good luck with that". I also met a guy online who is, unlike me, young and thin and feminine, and using those same resources, he struggled to find love for years, because apparently most people just want an ONS or FWB. If he didn't have a chance, what could I possibly hope for? Look at them, so young and pretty, most of them attracted to each other. Even if some of them want genuine love, what do I bring to the table? An unemployed overweight loser with a crappy apartment, approaching 30. I felt creepy, and sick, and like an abomination. Who cares that you want to kiss a boy and hold him forever and tell him how precious and sweet he is. Who do you think you are to deserve that?

I spent the entirety of yesterday in feverish, sleepy anxiety, so reminiscent of the worst days of my depression, and eventually went to sleep early and slept for 12 hours. I felt better the next day, sleep does help, but some fear, anxiety, and disgust was still there. People who hear my story always tell me how strong I am that I carry on despite everything. Bullshit. I've never felt strong. I just have extreme thanatophobia and anhedonia, not to mention being teetotal, so it looks like I'm strong from the outside. Still alive, and not drunk in a ditch, what more could you ask for. So don't worry, dear reader. I'm not gonna go and off myself after this - Death does not deserve such a gift, and never has, especially after all it's taken from me. But I do feel a part of myself dying again. Love and desire and the desperate scream of a child who didn't get to grow up properly and who's more touch starved than a pharaoh's mummy slowly evaporating and drowning out. Come tomorrow, I will be a functioning adult again. A husk of a man in reality.

Despite this, I will continue to do what I can to improve myself, of course. I will try to shut up my anxiety attacks, clean up the most used areas of my apartment to the best of my ability, and even eat less and go at it on my newly bought exercise bike - a poor man's Ozempic called willpower, that I'd always been sorely lacking, but anhedonia makes it much easier. Maybe, just maybe, years later, when I'm yet older, I'll have a chance to try again. Maybe I'll have a better body and financial situation. I don't know if I'll want to try. I'm so fucking scared to end up like Stephen Fry and start dating again when I'm already 57 or something. And I feel sick to the bone at the cruelty of this world, for putting me in a body full of desires that can't be fulfilled and fears that can't be avoided. Whatever. Life is unfair. Come nightfall, and take it all away. Shed a tear for me, dear reader - mine have dried up a long time ago.

My parents began their journey as foster care providers when I was just 6 years old, with my younger brother being only 3. It was a normal part of my life; many of the kids who stayed with us got along well with me and my family. That is until we met a girl named Amber when I was in the second grade.

Amber was the new kid in my class, and for some reason, we rubbed each other the wrong way from the start. I heard from classmates that she was upset with me, despite us knowing each other for only a few days. I figured if she could be mad at me for no reason, then I had every right to be mad at her. As time went on, our relationship only worsened. By the third grade, she was bullying me—heaving my lunch to the ground, fabricating stories that I had gas issues to embarrass me, and even declaring to our teacher that she refused to sit next to "freaky eye," in reference to a scar I have near my left eye. This only fueled further taunts, comparing me to Scar from The Lion King, making me increasingly self-conscious about the scar.

Aware of these issues, my parents were often called into school meetings to address her bullying behavior. In one surprising twist, I discovered that Amber was a foster child. And then, when we were both 10, my parents made the decision to adopt her. Friends and family asked if I was okay with this decision. My parents told them I was on board and eager to assist Amber in settling in. This was far from the truth. I was devastated and opposed the idea vehemently, but my objections fell on deaf ears.

My brother was not fond of Amber either, particularly because she had manipulated him against me a number of times at school. My parents, however, saw my resistance as the reason Amber and my brother weren't close, placing the blame squarely on me. The situation escalated when I was 15, culminating in a fierce argument where I expressed my refusal to ever see Amber as a true sibling, no matter the legal ties. I accused my parents of choosing her needs over my well-being and expressed regret that anyone ever cared for her, given her continuous torment toward me. Following yet another conflict a year after, I moved in with my grandparents. My attempts to maintain a relationship with my parents dwindled, and I openly criticized them for falsely claiming that I supported the adoption of Amber. This led to others viewing them differently, which they confronted me about recently. Their visit resulted in a heated exchange about the past, with them labeling my views as selfish, and me remaining firm that they had indeed chosen Amber over me.

Imagine if this family debacle unfolded on a reality TV show, where every argument and harsh word was broadcasted for entertainment. Would viewers be sympathetic to my plight, or would they side with my parents in their decision to adopt Amber despite our rocky past? Such a setting might amplify the drama and the complex emotions involved.

My boyfriend’s severely suicidal. He’s on the spectrum and so am I and idek it’s scaring me so bad. It’s gotten to a point where I genuinely don’t even know if he’s here anymore. He lives right down the street for me, he sits next to me on the school bus (both juniors) and is practically over every day. Genuinely around me at every point of time ever in my life. And I love it I really do. He’s so amazing when he’s not down. Except, now he’s down every day. We started dating almost a year ago and it started out great with the occasional off week or down moment with him. He’s been getting more and more and more depressed as the days go on. He’s the most perfect person I’ve ever seen and I don’t understand how he could possibly not see that. He’s had multiple attempts in the last few weeks along with going on 20 mg of lexipro and in an extensive treatment program 4/5 days out of the school week with constant monitoring. Nothings working and it’s only making him worse. He’s violent and he’s punching things and not eating and he’s barely alive I do not know what to do. I am constantly here for him and it’s not enough I suppose I will do anything pleaeebpleasepleaspelwlapdlwlase I want him to live but I don’t think he’ll make it alive to graduate, I don’t even know if he’ll make it past the summer. When I tell you he maybe the love of my life I truly mean it. It’s not a burden even if it’s killing me badly I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care he’s beautiful and I wouldn’t want it anyway else I just want him. I want him to be ok I want him to let me love him. He’s so amazing and perfect I really do not understand what I can do to save him. I’ve done everything. I’ve talked to guidnece counslers, both his and mine, I’ve talked to his mom, my mom, his friends, my friends, doctors teachers therapists about it and nothings working. What can I do? What ccan I do to save him from death??? What am I doing wrong????????