Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I think I'm such a fool. I'm going through a weird phase in my life. My grades are bad, I'm so insecure about my weight and appearance. My friends are acting weird towards me. My mom fights with me every day. School is so boring. Nothing's fun! In 10 days, I'll be turning a certain age for girls, but I don't feel happy. What's wrong with me? I don't feel like I have the right to feel sad or bad. I should be grateful for the life I have, right? And I also can't stand caring about what other people think. What if I fail physics? I think those are just girl problems. I don't know how to feel better. I think reading would be good. Are there any good books for 15-year-olds? I have to go, but I hope I'm not the only one going through "problems."

My wife and I have been trying to conceive for over a year with no success. Our chances aren't great, so we're looking into costly alternatives.

As a scientist and engineer, I am naturally skeptical of unproven methods. I despise scams, especially in the realm of health, because they exploit vulnerable people. I trust conventional medicine and evidence-based practices, so we're sticking with those.

My wife, desperate to get pregnant, has friends urging her to try alternative medicine like acupuncture and herbal remedies. These options are expensive but still within our budget (though costs can escalate as they hook you in). There's no solid evidence that these methods work beyond the placebo effect. Some even seem like faith-based practices or outright scams.

I can't accept anything that lacks a scientific basis, something that can be proven or disproven. However, I also can't force my wife to think like a scientist. She believes that trying her friends' suggestions might make her feel more hopeful about our efforts.

I've advised her not to spend too much on these alternatives and explained that I think they're exploiting her desperation. She admits she's uncertain about them but feels they might offer hope. I told her that our very expensive fertility specialists provide us with plenty of hope. I said she can do what she wants and spend what she feels is right but asked her to be honest with me about it. I also mentioned I’d be disappointed if she fell victim to a scam.

Now, imagine if we were on a reality show, dealing with all this in front of cameras. How would viewers react to our different approaches to this sensitive issue? Would they sympathize with my rational stance or her emotional struggle?

Compared to most of the problems in my life right now, this feels pretty low on the totem pole. But I don’t feel like anyone I’ve talked to about it can understand, and I’m feeling crazy because I’m the problem!?! Okay. So I have this friend. Sorta… let’s start at the beginning. I have a really good friend in my Geology major, let’s call her Glasses. And this good friend met another girl, let’s call her Hammer. Glasses and Hammer became pretty good friends. And from there we formed a little trio of sorts. That’s the short version at least. Hammer then met another girl, let’s call her Miss Perfect. And we would all hang out and we had a good group going. But, miss perfect and I never really clicked. I liked her as a person, but the gears never really aligned or something cause as soon as it was just us two we never had anything to really say. And I’d call her a friend, but definitely not close. That’s the general background. Anyway, I really pride myself on my acedemics. I’ve always been an A student, someone who’s always got the answer, who puts in the work, has a fun idea, understands the concept. You know. Typical geek. But geology’s my passion you know! I’m gonna really try and put my best foot forward. And I’m good at it. I’m a really good geologist… but Miss Perfext, it always felt like she would do better. Or at least people would praise her for being the best. I honesty feel like we are equals. But somehow, she’s always the one to get the praise or the recognition. For some reason, she’s always the better one. And it’s infuriating in a major where there’s only 20 people, cause why can’t I just beat her?!? And there have been times where I have, but they seem to be outweighed with her getting a better score or picked for a team assignment over me or whatever! And it really wasn’t that big of a problem in school. Because we had a different enough schedule where it wasn’t that big of a deal and it wasn’t in every class and I knew at some point I would not be in school with her and it wouldn’t really matter in the long run. I loved my work and that was good enough for me. But now… ok so I graduated last summer, and Hammer and I got a job at the same place. And it’s a good job. Sorta geology related and such so I feel it’s a good stepping stone before grad school and other jobs moving forward. But this summer..: Miss perfect applied and got the job. And I just don’t want to feel like I need to keep competing with her in my work place! Because what if she gets promoted over me?! What if they think she’s so much better than me and I get lumped with the geotechs where no geology is done at all and she’s out with the real geologists doing the real science?! When I’ve been there longer? Im not hoenslty that passionate about this company but it kinda upsets me! Because Hammer and Miss Perfext are closer together that I am with Hammer. So not only will it feel like I need to prove myself when I shouldn’t need to feel that way, I also don’t want to feel like a third wheel! And they’re moving in together! Ugh! So there. And when I ask my boyfriend, he just says, comparison is the thief of joy, which is a real fuck you if you ask me.

I’ve been an IT engineer for 15 years. That’s not a flex, it’s just context. I used to be good at this job. Efficient, fast, annoying in the way people hate because you fix things before they finish explaining the problem. I liked digging into logs, writing scripts, cleaning up broken pipelines, arguing with stupid tickets, and feeling like I actually understood the machine. Then AI became the big shiny thing, and now I use Claude Code for almost everything. Even the simplier stuff. Rename a variable? Claude. Write a small bash command? Claude. Check a config? Claude. It feels pathetic, becuase I know I can do these things myself. I’ve done them for years. But now my first reflex is not thinking, it’s pasting.

And yeah, I know AI is useful. I’m not pretending it’s all evil. It saves time, catches dumb mistakes, and sometimes gives me a better approach than the one I had. Fine. Great. Wonderful. But it also sucked the fun out of my work like a cheap vacuum cleaner from hell. I don’t feel clever anymore. I feel like a guy supervising a tool that’s slowly making him lazy and useless. My brain waits now. That’s the ugly part. I used to get a problem and feel that little spark, like “okay, let’s beat this thing.” Now I feel tired before I even start. I ask Claude, skim the answer, run some tests, and move on. At standup I have no idea what to say without sounding like a fraud. “Yesterday I prompted a bot until it did the task” is not exactly inspiring. So I dress it up with corporate garbage ands pretend I had a deep technical journey.

The worst part is I don’t know where this leaves my career. Am I still an engineer, or am I just a guy babysitting autocomplete with a salary? Maybe that’s dramatic, but that’s how it feels. I’ve built systems, fixed outages at 3 a.m., had managers breathing down my neck while production was on fire, and somehow this is the thing making me feel useless. Not the stress. Not the meetings. Not the endless Jira bullshit. This weird quiet loss of motivation. Do you ever feel like convenience is ruining your ability to give a damn? I do. I use Claude Code alot, and I hate how much I like it. I dont want to go back to doing everything manually like some caveman, but I also don’t want to become a hollow button-pusher who can’t solve anything without asking permission from a chatbot. I’m biased because this is my job and my identity, but I’m also trying to be fair: maybe the industry is just changing and I’m being stubborn. Maybe I need to adapt instead of whining. Still, I miss being excited by the work. I miss feeling sharp. Right now I just feel bored, replaceable, and pissed off.

In a few weeks it's gonna be my final exams of 8th grade. Let me tell you, don't try to change me. I'm in the firm belief I'm fundamentally stupid. Last unit, which was Unit 2, I scored a 25/60 in maths and 22/60 in Hindi, and somehow my family got more mad at the fact I called myself stupid than the fact I failed. I scored that low, and I'm lucky it wasn't the last exam or else I would've been held back a year, since I also did pathetic in Science at 45.5 in which I should've scored higher since I'm good at science, I got 43/60 in Social Studies, 51/60 in English, but I failed. They got more angry I said I was stupid, I was! I'm dumb for trusting the math teacher to start on the hardest questions like she said. And mom said the weirdest thing, she asked how can I improve if I call myself a failure or stupid. I was, for even when I studied hard I forgot and I took too long to answer, because I'm slow like a slug and stupid. And if I fail this unit now, I'm gonna be held back. The maths teacher keeps threatening the class about it as a real thing. And I will fail because I'm fundamentally stupid. I don't feel like studying, and that's fine, because stupid people don't deserve privilege, just slog. If I succeed this exam, or at least score a decent 60-70% than last time in maths and half in Hindi, I'm cursed. What I'm saying is that means for every Unit 2 exam, I suck the worst. That happened in 7th, it happened in Unit 2 of 8th, and this is the final third one, and if I do slightly better, I'm cursed. I normally score decent in Unite 1, but I'm praying at least in math I score well, because screw Hindi, even my parents gave up the language for me cus they now why I struggle even with tuitions, it's too hard, even for them!

Now, you might say, "Make your own timetable!" or "Maybe practice time management", shut up! Shut up you fucking ugly bitches! I'll fail my own timed 3 hour exam, or even revision sheets timed, I'll fail at math which is one of the main subjects I need to pass to go ahead, and plus, one guy got held back and he's in 7th grade going to 8th when he should be going to 9th now like me. I'll be held back as well. My teacher may say in 9th she can shift Hindi to art, but it's impossible, in CBSE, you just can't. It would make my cosplay event not worth it then. Imagine how many other people failed that I'm not aware of, that got held back with no friends which is why I didn't know, that lost every opportunity to succeed because of this. I'll be one of them if I act too cocky and tell myself, "I can do this". I simply can't. Convince me and I'll find you, kill you, and bury your body in the ocean where nobody can find you. And in CBSE, no way they'd retake exams from 8th-9th. Why would they retake exams? I've not heard of that. You can't do that. You can't do that in CBSE. It's too much coddling, anyways.

To those who know JJBA, I'm dumb enough for someone like Fugo to crash out and go fucking batshit crazy. Seriously, Narancia sucks even worse than me at maths, and Fugo stabs him with a fork in Golden Wind. I'm sorry, what?! I know Golden Wind is freaky or weird as fuck, but nah, I need those high standards to pass. In fact, since I'm planning to dress up as Joseph Joestar for an event a month after my exams in March, Joseph won't look at me and won't call me dumb because he is dumb, but Caesar Zeppeli would and he'd also become an angry Italian like Fugo. Admit it, he hates stupid people! He's a hotheaded man who's strong, what I'm not. I'm stupid, see? I'm no good at cosplaying either, it's my first time. So the best thing is to just give up, maybe leave school, convince my family I can be homeschooled somehow, or just die since I'm too stupid to be alive. They won't give second chances, not anymore. This is my last dance, my final act before promotion, and until then, I won't pick my ass up if I convince myself I can do this. I can't. Impossible stays impossible. Those who believe in change are the retarded fags themselves. Fucking hell, just anyone, give me any 3 GOOD WAYS to just die, if I decide I'm worthless to everyone, my family, my brother, everyone, I won't miss them because they won't miss me. They'll move on. I still fail to understand why they get more mad when I call myself stupid when the truth is is bold letters...

I'M FUCKING STUPID AND AN UGLY BITCH WHORE OF A DAUGHTER YOU LITTLE SHITS

I've never been able to understand myself or truly understand others. I've never managed to form a real attachment to someone without feeling like I'm lying to myself, and it's the same with my parents and friends. On top of that, I feel completely empty all the time. I can't even physically cry anymore—I feel hollow, like there's no solution. Yet, I've been seeing a psychologist for three years, as well as a child psychiatrist. I'm only 15, but honestly, I can't see myself making it to 25.

[Translated from French as IIWIARS is English only]

Over the past couple of years, I've been assisting my sister, Emily, with caring for her two young children. This arrangement started during the pandemic when both she and her husband found themselves overwhelmed with managing remote work and looking after their kids. At that time, it felt natural to offer my help without expecting anything in return, considering the circumstances and the family bond we shared.

However, life has since returned to normal, and we're both back to our regular routines with demanding jobs and personal commitments. Despite this change, Emily continues to expect that I would babysit at least once a week, often more. What troubles me is her lack of acknowledgment; there's never any offer of payment, and not even a simple word of appreciation. It seems like she's taken my willingness for granted, assuming I'd always be available.

Last week, I reached my limit and expressed to Emily that I could no longer provide free babysitting services. I explained that if she needed my help, it should be reciprocated either through payment or with gratitude. Her response was far from understanding—she accused me of being selfish and insisted that family should always be ready to help each other without expecting anything back.

I believe in family support, but it feels like I'm being exploited. All I'm asking for is some recognition for my time and effort, or maybe even a break now and then from this commitment. Emily's reaction has been to stop speaking to me, and our parents are pressuring me to apologize just to smooth things over.

Honestly, this whole situation has left me wondering if setting these boundaries makes me unreasonable. It makes me think about how this could play out if it were part of a reality TV show, where family dynamics are on full display. Would viewers sympathize with my need for appreciation, or would they side with Emily, viewing my requests as unnecessary family drama?

I'm curious, what do you think?

(so I was imagining a scenario in which I accidentally-on purpose overdose on my new antidepressants)

Me: *walking into school, feeling not good at ALL*

Barley: "Inari! ... are you ok?"

Me: *collapses, ded*

everyone: *freaking the fuck out*

and then Clive went, "let me show you how it would really happen."

Me: *walking into school, feeling not good at ALL*

Barley: "Inari! ... you good?"

Me: *collapses, ded*

Barley: *shrugs, indifferent*

Everyone else: *just like, well that happened, oh well"

(another scenario, in which someone shoots me in the head at school)

me and barley: *walking down the hall, minding our own damn business*

*then gunshots and i'm dead*

Barley: *FREAKING out*

(the school gets put on lockdown and ppl are screaming)

and then Clive went, "let me show you how it would really happen."

me and barley: *walking down the hall, minding our own damn business*

*then gunshots and i'm dead*

Barley: *shrugs and keeps walking*

(the school gets put on lockdown and ppl just keep minding their own business bc I was the only victim and nobody knows who I am)

There I was, part of my dear friend Julie's bridal party. Julie has always had a bit of a tough time with money, but despite this, she's in the midst of planning her dream wedding.

Initially, she requested that we, the bridesmaids, cover the cost of our dresses. We agreed without hesitation. However, the financial asks didn't stop there; next was the bouquets. Eager to assist, I didn’t object until I learned they would cost a whopping $130 each! It turned out that Julie had her heart set on the most lavish bouquets available. I even proposed putting together the bouquets myself to cut costs, but she was adamant about getting the ones she had selected.

Among the bridesmaids, I'm the youngest, just stepping into my 20s, and perhaps because of this, I felt the financial pinch more sharply. Although a few others also seemed displeased with the escalating costs, I was the lone voice that addressed our concerns with Julie. I approached her gently, explaining my financial constraints and questioning the rationale behind spending so much on flowers that would only last the day.

To my dismay, my input wasn’t received well. Julie decided to exclude me from the bridal party altogether, relegating me to just the “after party” guest list before eventually withdrawing that invitation too. Now, I'm left bewildered by the turn of events, questioning if I was unreasonable.

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show! The cameras would zoom in on the dramatic split between once-close friends over wedding expenses, capturing every heated exchange and tearful confession. Viewers would likely be split, some sympathizing with my financial caution and others siding with the bride’s vision for her special day. Reality TV thrives on such conflict, and this situation could easily be a pivotal episode, sparking debates and discussions across social media platforms.

I'm left wondering, was I really being unreasonable, or just mindful of my own financial limits?

Sorry but she looks like a bridezilla here...

(i posted a rant before this one called 'long distance sucks' and im here with another related to that)

just for over view- im in a long distance relationship with someone who i was best friends with for a year. hes amazing btw, hes so cool, i learn so much from him, hes smart, tall, handsome, incredible OH GOD I LOVE HIM A LOT! hes just so fucking perfect. he loves me the same, he helps me in anything i need (hes a year older), he tells me how much he loves me everyday, he tries his best to be the best version of him for me (hes already the bestest), he cares for me a lot, he tells me whats wrong and whats right. hes really fun, we have the same type of sense of humour so we joke around a lot of anything and about each other and dont get offended. i love him a lot- hes truly everything i ever need.

im a very sensitive person even though i show myself as strong. he knows how sensitive i am so he takes extra care of him and worries whenever im a little off. he comforts me. he tells me how amazing i am and how strong i am. he handles me like no other. in short he knows how to get me going during my breakdowns.

but idk if im being enough for him. idk if i really provide him the support he needs. i give me all! whenever hes sad or low or down about things i literally give my everything to make him feel good even with his "men are strong" approch. me being the extra sensitive one in this relationship makes me think that im never really enough for him when hes sad. i wrote him 7 pages, 2-3 paragraphs and delivered him my perfume, hair tie and a short letter. i just want him to be happy the way he makes me but i just think im falling less somewhere or maybe im just feeling this way because we are in long distance. i just love him so much that i know no end on letting him go and i fear that im not being a good girlfriend.

It’s weird to even say this out loud, but I got a tattoo to cover my self-harm scars. And honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. The whole idea started off as something empowering, like reclaiming my body, right? You know the line, “Your skin is your story”—some therapist threw that out years ago during one of my low points. It stuck. I thought maybe, just maybe, putting something beautiful over something so painful would help change the narrative. So I chose a design I’d doodled in a journal years ago—something abstract but meaningful, sort of a fractured mandala, each line connecting past and present. The artist was kind and didn't ask too many questions, just looked me in the eye and said, “We’ll make this a transformation piece.” That sounded nice. Better than what it really was: me trying to hide from myself in ink and pain management creams.

Now that it’s been a few weeks, I stare at it and feel conflicted. The tattoo is well done—technically clean, good contrast, smart shading—but the scars are still visible beneath it. Not physically, not if you’re just glancing. But I know they’re there. That skin holds memory like film holds shadows, and even the pigment can’t overwrite the fact that I hurt myself deliberately, over and over, for years. Sometimes I catch my reflection and wonder who I’m trying to fool. Is this ink for healing, or just another form of concealment? It’s a question I keep circling, like a moth around a porchlight. I'm 38 now. Not a kid experimenting with identity. Not a teenager struggling with trauma she couldn’t name. A grown adult who still can't quite figure out what to do with all this leftover pain.

The part I didn’t expect was how other people would respond. Friends said things like “Wow, that’s powerful” or “It’s so meaningful,” like they were in on some secret spiritual moment. I smiled and nodded and said things like “Yeah, it represents growth,” but I never corrected them when they assumed it was just art for art’s sake. One coworker even said, “That’s dope, did it hurt?” and I just laughed and said “Not more than the stuff it’s covering.” He didn’t get it. And maybe I didn’t want him to. The truth is, there's a whole subculture around tattooing over scars, and it's not always about covering things up—sometimes it's about honoring survival. But I’m not sure if I survived something, or if I just stalled it.

I know this might come across as ungrateful or overly cynical, especially since not everyone gets a second chance to rewrite their skin. But what if rewriting isn't enough? What if healing isn't about erasing the past but learning to live with it in broad daylight? Some days I think I did the right thing—turned something painful into something beautiful, like alchemy. Other days, I feel like I’ve just added another mask, one that requires constant touch-ups and explanation. I'm not embarrassed by the scars anymore, but I am tired of what they represent: all those years spent pretending I was fine, when I was really just holding myself together with caffeine and denial.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying is—if you’re thinking about getting a self-harm tattoo, ask yourself why. Like really, why. Is it closure? Is it expression? Is it shame in disguise? Maybe it’s a mix of all those. I can’t tell you the right answer because I still don’t know mine. All I know is that ink fades slower than memory, and covering something up doesn’t always mean it’s healed. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe healing isn’t linear. But I do wish someone had told me that before I sat down in that studio, gripping the chair like it was gonna save me.

I just feel like such a horrible person, I’m almost 40 weeks pregnant, already having some contractions during the day and all. But even with all, I can’t feel much of a connection to my baby, I just feel huge and sick and tired.

I got pregnant due to a one night stand (which was my first and last), I’m still too young and in school, but even with it, I feel so guilty and like such a bad mom for not feeling much for this baby

Like genuinely bro wtf is wrong with me . Today was going great then I binged ☹️ like honestly this happens so much so way tmr I’ll do better and im not better. Like genuinely if I HAD JUST STARTED LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN JAN BROOO MY BODY WOULD HAVE BEEN TEA

I met him when I was 11, and he was too. We had a little childhood romance and started "dating" when we were 13. He helped me get through my parents’ divorce, and I helped him with his own family issues... we really liked each other. We were each other’s first love, it was sweet, it was innocent. I felt at home with him. When we hit six months together, things were already falling apart, and I broke up with him because I was going to move to another city mid-year. He seemed to take it well, or at least that’s what I thought. We talked bad about each other afterwards, like teenagers do, of course.On my last day in that city, we were leaving school when he saw me from a distance, gave me a small wave… and cried. I cried too. But neither of us said anything or walked up to each other.After I moved, I sent him a text message saying EVERYTHING I felt. He responded and said he felt the same, but that it wouldn’t work because of the distance and because our story had ended. We still talked sometimes...Then in November, he came to my new city for a karate tournament. Our moms were very close, so he stayed at my house. When I saw him again, it felt like we were still together. I knew I was still crazy about him. At first, we were super shy around each other, but we eventually opened up. He had changed a lot, and so had I. That night, we sat on a couch downstairs in my building and talked for hours. We kissed and made promises we couldn’t keep. He slept in my room, and I slept in my mom’s. But we kept messaging each other all night. It was strange to think that he was here, in my house, in my room. At around 2 a.m., I went into my room and sat by the bed. We talked, laughed, and remembered everything. I took so many pictures of us. At 6 a.m., he left, and I cried so much in the lobby of my building. My love was leaving. From that moment on, the song "The Only Exception" became ours.We tried to keep in touch, but eventually he told me to move on with my life.In January, I went back to my hometown and we went to the mall, just as friends. I really liked it… I had written him a letter, but never gave it to him. I went to his house, and we ended up making out. I didn’t want to leave. The next day, I was already going back to my city.So we spent the whole afternoon watching series and just enjoying each other’s company. I left, and this time ,didn’t cry.We tried a long-distance thing again, but it ended when I found out he was dating a girl from his class, one of his friends told me. It felt like my world collapsed.He was different, you know? He could even understand my silence. I really loved him.Now, I just know that he’s doing some questionable things and that he’s dating another girl.Of course, I’ve had other crushes… but I always compared them to that sweet boy who once existed.I read the letter I had written to him today and realized how naive I was…I miss the boy I was once madly in love with.I really want to send a message, but sometimes not sending is better than being rejected.I just wish he knew… that once, it was him.

I want friends so badly, it drives me insane. I have 3 friends but I only consider one to be an actual friend, because the others are assholes. I can’t hang out with my friend often because they live about 30 minutes from me and they go to school while I’m homeschooled. I have bad anxiety so I’m not good at talking to people at all unless I know them, It’s so bad that I can’t even talk to people online to try and make friends because I get too scared and worried. I want to make more friends that live close by so I can hang out more often and just have someone to go out with.

I want to go out more and get out of the house, but I don’t go out alone because of my own experiences with creepy men and pedophiles. It’s not that I want some just to have with me, but I want someone who I can connect deeply with bf not have to think about how and when to drive 30 mins to get there or whatever.

I want to make friends in my area, but everyone my age in my area are just assholes, which was one of the reasons I went into homeschool other than anxiety.

I have this deep feeling inside me like I just want to be held and loved, just to be with someone and feel safe and cared about with. I don’t know if I’m ready to get into another relationship yet since I just got out of a year long distance relationship about a month ago. I just crave touch and affection, but also that level of friendship where I’m comfortable enough to be myself.

I always get jealous seeing people out with friend groups and talking about their friend groups, I know how fun it is to be in friendgroups since I used to be in one a few years ago. I want that feeling again. I don’t know how to explain it but I just feel lonely.

Sure, I have my family, but they just make me feel more alone. My grandma always talks about how I barely have friends and need more, when I’m upset bc my friend did something my dad just tells me everyone is assholes and I need to learn that, my little sister makes fun of me for barely having friends. I just can’t handle it anymore. I’ve thought about suicide and running away, but it wouldn’t help.

For years I have just been wanting that feeling that I know I’m safe with someone for who I am and that I’m loved