Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I used to think hard work and performance actually meant something, but now? I give up. Every day at my job, it’s less about who does the best work and more about who checks the right boxes. It’s gotten to the point where I feel like I’m just showing up, doing my best, and watching people get ahead for reasons that have nothing to do with skill or effort. At first, I tried to ignore it. I thought, Okay, just focus on your own progress, keep your head down, and things will even out. But they don’t. Instead of real career development, all we get is more “woke” initiatives, endless diversity trainings, and company-wide emails patting themselves on the back for promoting people based on identity instead of talent. Don’t get me wrong—I believe in fairness, equal chances, all that. But that’s not what this is. It’s not about fairness; it’s about looking good on paper. I’ve watched coworkers bust their ass for years, only to get passed over for someone less experienced because “we need more representation in leadership.” It’s like performance doesn’t matter anymore—just optics. And it’s exhausting pretending it doesn’t get to me.

I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, but lately, I’m asking myself why? If the promotions, raises, and recognition are going to people based on factors completely outside of their work, then what’s the point? Every meeting feels like another round of performative nonsense. We can’t even talk about improving sales or efficiency without someone throwing in a forced social angle, as if productivity is suddenly a dirty word. And don’t even get me started on the “optional” events that aren’t really optional—if you don’t attend the latest DEI seminar or pride workshop, you’re suddenly not a “team player.” Meanwhile, the actual job we’re here to do keeps getting harder, expectations keep rising, and the only thing that isn’t improving is the people actually running things. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this new version of the workplace, but at this point, I don’t care anymore. I’ve seen what gets rewarded and what doesn’t, and it’s clear that playing fair isn’t the way to win. So yeah—I give up. Not because I can’t keep up, but because I’m tired of pretending this system makes any sense.

My husband and I have 3 kids: two boys, 9 and 8, and a girl, 3. The boys have been driving us crazy with their constant fighting. We’ve had countless talks with them about respecting each other, but it hasn’t worked. Sibling rivalry is normal, but this is disruptive to us all, every day.

I told my husband last week that maybe the vacation wasn’t a good idea. He shut me down immediately and we went ahead as planned.

First off, the 3.5-hour car ride was (predictably) hell. The boys fought and riled each other up the whole time. Husband and I kept reassuring each other that things would be better once we got there and they’d be too excited to cause trouble.

We were wrong. At the rental house, they immediately did everything they weren’t supposed to.

Shoes on the white furniture? Check. Running in the house? Check. I turned my back for 2 seconds and the 8-year-old threw a box of chalk in the pool to keep his brother from getting it. At lunch, they were out of control. The 9-year-old ran away because he didn’t get his way.

We finally got to the beach, and they were being brats. Refusing sunscreen, fighting over toys, going farther out in the water than we allowed, and cursing.

By the time we got back to the house for dinner, I was fed up. They were ruining it for everyone. I told my husband we needed to go home; they needed to see a real consequence.

My husband insisted it would get better. I put my foot down and said either I was leaving, or we all were. He got super pissed and said it was unfair to our daughter. I agreed but saw no other choice. The kids burst into tears, begging to stay and promising to behave.

My mother, who came with us, was near tears too. She thinks her grandkids do no wrong and begged me to “just let it go,” but I refused. So, we left less than 24 hours into a 4-day vacation.

Half the ride home was spent with them sobbing, and my husband gave me the silent treatment. My mother decided to stay behind and started texting me, saying I had “ruined it for everybody” and “they’re only little once.”

Now, no one likes me except my 3-year-old. Are they right? Am I wrong?

Imagine if we were on a reality show! How do you think the viewers would react to me putting my foot down and cutting the vacation short? Would they see me as the villain or the hero of this story?

I'm 15 and recently became sexually active, I thought it was okay to not use condoms because I'm on the pill but I found out I've been taking my pill incorrectly and I'm now scared I could be pregnant 🤟

TW: Suicide and SA

How do I even start this? My parents screwed me over. I got my mom's anxiety, and my dad's depression and addiction. I didn't learn about any of this until it was too late. I have struggled with anxiety and depression for years, and the addiction gene just feeds of that shit. My parents treat my sister like shit and they fight a lot and vent to me about everyone and everything, so the addiction just moves me to another place in my mind. The first addiction I ever had was to hurting myself, and that nearly put me in the hospital. But I was getting help and had a couple good months, so I thought I was ok. But I didn't focus on the other problem developing. At first it was fine, but now I get blackout or close to blackout drunk every weekend (sometimes during the week), and I just want to stop, but I am surrounded by it all the time. I go to a party school and all my friends like to drink. I don't feel forced to drink, it just gives me an excuse to.

One time when I was out and drinking with friends, I was SA'ed. I had never been more disappointed in myself in my life and I wanted to disappear. Instead of taking the chance to make this a learning lesson, I continued to make horrible decisions. Only a few people know, but they only know parts. I told them that I only remember what he looked like and not his name, which is a lie. During the attack, I sobered up a bit, and I remember almost everything. I look over my shoulder a lot, hoping my past mistake doesn't come back to haunt me.

After a couple months, I hadn't gotten my period since the attack, and I was so fucking scared. I didn't speak or see any of my friends for 4 days, until after I took the test. The worst part of the whole week was the realization that I was not pregnant. At first, I had never been so relieved, but now I just feel like something is missing. I look at myself and I can feel apart of me missing. I don't know if it's the innocence I lost from that night, or what could have been.

I just got back from a trip with friends, and none of them really suspect anything of what I have been feeling. And I feel like a terrible person for feeling like this, because I should be happy and shit, but I'm not. This is not the worst I have ever felt, but it is close. I always thought I would grow up to be someone my past self would admire, but I think now I would just scare her.

I want to be not human for a bit. I want to take away my feelings, just for a time. Would that everything worse, probably. But at this point, I just want God to take away my pain.

Everyone is so mean to me, like really mean!!!! I do not even understand what the hell is going on anymore?? I'm 19 and I go to uni like everyone else, I’m studying communications and marketing which is supposed to be all about people and connection and empathy and whatever, but none of these girls in my program act like they’ve even seen a human being before!!! They literally look at me like I’m dirt on their shoes, and I swear it’s just cause I’m hot. I look older than them, maybe mid-20s or something, I’ve been told that a million times at parties or events, and somehow that’s enough for these girls to start whispering and side-eyeing me??? I walk into a seminar room and it's dead silence. Dead. Like did I say something to them??? No. Never. I'm polite, I say hi, I try to make convo, but no. They just act cold as ice like I'm some alien with a disease. It's so pathetic honestly.

And yes, I have an OnlyFans, so what???? What’s the issue???? I make real money. Like more than enough to cover rent, tuition, food, and still have nice things. My content is nothing extreme, nothing illegal, nothing wild — it’s art, okay?? High-quality photography, consistent brand aesthetic, SEO optimization, smart pricing tiers, premium subscriber rewards — it’s literally textbook content marketing but with my face and body, so of course it works. But these girls act like I committed murder!!! I heard one of them saying "at least I’m not selling myself online" like?? Babe, I’m not selling myself. I’m selling a lifestyle, a vibe, a curated digital persona that pays for my goddamn bills while you’re still begging your dad to Venmo you 20 bucks for takeout. Grow up. Stop acting like I’m some kind of danger to the institution of higher education or whatever. You're just bitter.

It’s been like this since the second week of semester. First week they were fake-nice, you know? Those little “omg we should study together!” type lies. Then they all slowly ghosted me. I had one girl literally leave a group project and switch teams just cause she “didn’t feel comfortable.” Like be real, what part of me is uncomfortable??? Is it the fact I have better makeup? Is it cause I know how to dress well for my body type and don’t show up in wrinkled leggings and knock-off Crocs?? Or is it cause guys on campus actually talk to me, and it bothers you that I don’t even chase them? They come to me. They ask ME for notes. They offer ME rides. Maybe focus on why you hate yourself so much that you think someone else’s success is a personal attack. Like what even is the psychology behind that????

But whatever. I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t hurt — it really freaking does. I go home some days and just cry, cause it’s lonely out here when you’re actually doing well for yourself and no one claps for you. Like damn, I’m 19, I’m running a profitable content platform with solid monthly growth, I ace my presentations, and I still get treated like trash by basic girls who can't even spell "algorithm." 😤 But I’m not gonna stop. No way. I love how I look, I love making money, and I love the future I’m building. If you hate me for that, that says way more about you than it ever will about me. Maybe one day they’ll grow up and realize the world isn’t high school anymore. Until then, I’ll be doing me — and maybe that’s enough. Or maybe not???

it’s been three months since she told me it was over, and I honestly thought I would be better by now. you know, like the typical advice you see everywhere? “time heals all wounds” and “you’ll find someone better”? I guess I've just come to terms with the fact that those phrases are easier said than lived. every day feels like I’m dragging a heavy anchor, and my mind constantly races back to the moments we shared. I can still picture her laughter, her smile, and the way she used to play with her hair while deep in thought. I often wonder if that’s just how life goes, one minute you're on top of the world and the next you’re stuck reminiscing about how things used to be. I’ve tried to distract myself with friends or hobbies, but it’s like there’s this invisible wall that keeps me from truly engaging; some people say that it’s all about perspective while others might argue it's more about acceptance, but I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, caught in a labyrinth of my own emotions.

as I navigate through this post-breakup haze, I’ve read a lot about the psychological phenomena related to breakups—terms like the ‘attachment theory’ and ‘emotional dependency’ come to mind. they make sense in a clinical way, but experiencing them firsthand is a different beast altogether. I mean, how does someone just move on as if nothing happened? it’s as though they possess an emotional GPS that guides them toward greener pastures while I'm still in this perpetual state of searching for a signal. some days, my phone buzzes with messages from friends suggesting new activities or meetups, but I find myself declining more often than not—it's like I'm afraid that any bit of joy I could feel would pale in comparison to the happiness we once had, which is a weird kind of self-sabotage. I often find myself analyzing my past interactions, wondering if it was something I said or did that spiraled us into this situation—was I too clingy, too distant, or did I just not pick up on the subtle signs of her impending discontent?

I’m here questioning the timeline of recovery for breakups, and how long does it actually take to get over someone? I wish I had a definitive answer rather than these endless Google searches leading nowhere. some say it takes the same time as the relationship lasted, while others suggest that it’s all individual; but I have to admit, still feeling heartache after three months feels like I’m lagging behind in a race where everyone else has already crossed the finish line. there are moments I catch myself daydreaming about what could have been, or I find myself scrolling through old pictures of us smiling, but instead of fueling healing, they only deepen my sorrow. maybe I’m just a romantic at heart or maybe I’ve built an idealized version of what we had, but the reality is, I'm struggling. I’ve learned that time does play a critical role in healing, yet it’s also about self-acceptance and allowing yourself to feel all the emotions that come with loss. sometimes I find solace in journaling my thoughts, like I'm laying the baggage down little by little. any tips on how to let go would be appreciated; even a friendly reminder to keep pushing forward would go a long way. 🥺

For the past 6 years I’ve been fighting to be noticed and seen by my family, I have 6 siblings, and that counting the half siblings on my mom AND my dad’s side. So, it was hard to get attention. It was hard to get anything, when my dad came back from prison. I was 7 or 8, and at the time me and my family were living with my grandparents (except for my mom, she left us)

So needless to say I missed him, like any child would. But, he barely payed attention to me. When I had problems he would brush them off, when my older brother was physically abusing he didn’t stop him either. Sure, they “talked” but that didn’t make it stop. Years go by…. I try and try and try to tell him that I’m depressed, that I NEED help. And you know what he does? He sits me down and helps me smoke a joint, I was 13. And when I was high out of my mind, that’s when I realized. He didn’t care, he didn’t care if my brother was hurting me. He didn’t care if I was suicidal, he didn’t give a fuck. So i stopped caring, I stopped talking. I stopped leaving my room and only talked to people online because at least THEY noticed me, I felt invisible. It’s funny, it’s not even my dad. It was EVERYONE in my family, my twin and my older sister were quiet about it all and my two younger brothers were KIDS. They didn’t know what was going on, my stepmom didn’t say much either. But everything changed when we moved to Colorado, you see. My Older brother SA my sister for years (she was 9 when it started) the reason why I know is that my dad told me. Because he thought I would be nicer too her after I heard about it, what it really did is fuck me up for 6 months. That wasn’t the only thing that happened though, he basically blamed me for “not being a good sister”

Ever since then, everything got better. I lived in a apartment with my stepmom and my sister and that was probably the best thing that could happen, my stepmom told me that she was sorry for everything and now tells my dad that it wasn’t JUST my sister who got hurt by him, my sister and I have a good relationship and my brother and I are still chill. My dad still blames me for like 75% of what my older brother did to me… idk anymore, I’m still mad that he didn’t give a fuck until my “darling” of a sister told him what happened to her. I know I’m a bad person for saying this but, I’m envious of my sister. Because she at least gets taken seriously

Ps: sorry for all of the typos I KNOW I’m gonna make

I've been caring for my foster daughter, Sophie, age 13, for over a year now after her parents tragically passed away due to a drug overdose. Meanwhile, my biological daughter, Emma, who is 12 years old, usually gets along well with Sophie, although they sometimes squabble over trivial matters.

The situation took a serious turn a few weeks ago when the police unexpectedly showed up at Emma’s school. An unknown person had sent a tip to the school administration claiming that Emma was carrying drugs. This led to a distressing scene where her phone, locker, and backpack were searched. To everyone's surprise, the alleged 'drugs' were actually just Skittles that had accidentally spilled out in her bag. Emma, being the gentle and reserved girl she is, was absolutely petrified during the ordeal and suffered a panic attack from the sheer fear of the consequences.

Initially, the informant was anonymous, but Emma suspected that it might have been Sophie, as she was the only one who might have seen the candy in her bag. At first, Sophie denied these claims, but as the pressure mounted, she burst out confessing. She claimed it was an honest error, fueled by her deep-seated fears from her past—concerned that Emma might end up like her own parents.

While I understand Sophie has had traumatic experiences related to drugs, it doesn't serve as an excuse for her actions. I’ve always maintained an open door policy at home, urging the girls to come to me with any issues or concerns. Despite this, Sophie chose to bypass talking to me or Emma and directly reported to the school, fully aware of the potential legal consequences her actions could have triggered, potentially jeopardizing the custody arrangements for both of them.

Believing that her motivations weren’t entirely innocent—especially since Skittles are clearly not drugs—I decided to impose consequences on Sophie. This included grounding her, stopping her allowance, adding extra chores, and confiscating her electronics for the entire summer. She protested, claiming my reaction was excessive and that she was being punished for her past trauma and trying to protect her sister. However, I believe I have a responsibility to teach her about the severity of causing unnecessary legal issues based on misunderstandings.

Now imagine if our family dispute were to unfold on a reality show. The audience could have had a mixed reaction, likely split between sympathizing with Sophie’s traumatic past and understanding the protective nature of a parent's response to safeguard both children and prevent legal troubles.

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?

Ok, here we go...I'm stuck in this rut of how do I proceed from here kind of thing. In a nutshell, I've been friends with this guy for about 4-5 years now, but we really started becoming best friends over the last two years. We're both in our 30s. About 7 months ago we started really hanging out more and having weekend movie watching sessions and dinners. He would reach out to me more then and engage in conversation, as well as asking to hang out. We never got past the cuddling stage, but I could definitely feel the chemistry and attraction between us. I know we were both holding back because I was just finishing up a divorce and I wasn't yet officially single. About 5 months ago, I got brave and admitted having feelings for him. We are both very open with each other about anything on our minds. The conversation was cordial, but he stated that he didn't know if he felt that way about me and wanted to "cool" things off because of the fact the divorce wasn't official yet. I completely understood from a moral perspective and respected that (not looking for judgement on this though). The kicker part is when we continued the convo, I flat out asked if he would ever see a future with us in it or if the idea of "us" is out of the question. He said he didn't know, and couldn't see into the future, but he wasn't going to close the door on the idea of there being an "us". He also is the type of person who would say if there wasn't a chance. So naturally, you can see how this gave me hope.

We didn't hang out as much after that and we still don't as frequently, BUT here's the kicker part(s): we still talk almost every day (even if he's not as talkative as he was in the beginning when things felt newer), he still confides in me, I still get invited to go with him to visit with his parents every other weekend (his parents/family loves me), we'll get quick dinners together, he's gifted me several things in the last two months, etc. Basically what is missing from before is the amount of quality alone time we get. Maybe he isn't committing to that because he doesn't want to give the wrong impression, but when we aren't in a busy phase at work/life, he will actually reach out suggesting getting back into watching shows together. I also wonder if he doesn't want to jump into anything because I'm still only a couple months divorced and he doesn't want to give others the impression that I got divorced to be with him (which isn't the case. he was not the reason for my divorce in the least)

SO THIS IS WHERE I'M STUCK. I'm so smitten with him, and have never felt this way about anyone, and don't have anyone else in my life, so on one hand I kind of say to myself, I'll take what I can get. On the other hand, I wish I could just walk away and give it some distance to let him figure out if he wants me to be that special someone in his life. He hasn't been in a relationship in A WHILE, so part of me also wonders if he's just super used to his solidarity and is really out of practice. My mind always asks myself, if there was no possibility of us being a thing, wouldn't he have just said that there was no possibility of that instead of saying he wasn't "closing the door" on that potential? Also, if there wasn't the possibility, why would he go to the lengths he does with certain things still? IDK! These are things that I feel people our age wouldn't do if they were "just friends" with each other and my close friends/family agree.

If you've gone through something like this, or had someone you know go through this, or you're genuinely just good at reading people and situations and have advice/opinions to offer, I'm all ears!

My girlfriend has a wildly diverse taste in music which led to a heated debate last night.

We both share an apartment equipped with a superb sound system in common areas like the kitchen and living room. When I'm in charge of music, I prefer playing a full album to enjoy its continuity.

Contrastingly, my girlfriend loves shuffling through a playlist of her own crafting. Just to give you an idea, last night's sequence was baffling. It kicked off with Garth Brooks' "Friends in Low Places," followed by Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie," then "Pink Rover" by Scene Queen, moving on to "Dangerous" by Cascada, and "Dogma" by KMFDM.

Midway, I suggested maybe sticking to a single playlist or album, or at least something less jarring. She explained it was her custom cleaning playlist, packed with high-energy songs perfect for chores.

I jokingly remarked on the eclectic nature of her choices, which seemed a bit chaotic to me. She defended her selection as personal favorites, energizing and varied. Pressing further for something less intense was met with a reminder that she was cleaning and deserved to choose the music.

I pointed out that it was a tad extreme, but she dismissed my comments, defending her playlist as just her style. The evening went on with another hour of arguably the most bizarre mix of tunes I've ever encountered.

Now I’m thinking, maybe I was harsh? On one hand, the music felt intense for a shared space, but it seems she might have been silently tolerating my musical preferences too without complaint.

Imagine if this was all aired on a reality show, the drama would be quite the highlight, sparking debates and perhaps even comical reactions from the audience. People might take sides or suggest compromise solutions, playing up the tension for entertainment.

I guess I should have been more thoughtful about her music choices?

My son, Alex, recently finished high school and we were funding his upcoming road trip with his pals. The journey was scheduled for Wednesday when unexpectedly, my in-laws met with a severe car accident in another state, turning our plans upside down. We faced a daunting four-hour drive as my wife was deeply distressed, her father was in a critical state, but fortunately, he survived.

We have two younger children aged 11 and 7, and leaving them alone wasn't an option. Unfortunately, we couldn't find any last-minute babysitter; even our neighbors couldn’t help out. Thus, Alex, who is 18, had to step in. He was understandably upset but had no choice. I promised him we would compensate him and tried to get him to reschedule the trip with his friends. However, they couldn’t postpone it.

After my wife and I spent two days away, and with my wife staying behind to be with her parents, I returned alone. When I talked with Alex upon return, trying to sort out how he could still catch up with his friends, he was extremely frustrated, arguing that too much of the trip had already been missed. Despite still having 12 days left from the two-week trip itinerary, he felt disheartened and locked himself in his room after calling me unfair.

He later spoke with his mother and the conversation did not go smoothly either. After yelling at her and blaming her for everything, she broke down, which led her to send him photos of his injured grandparents. Ultimately, Alex decided to skip the trip altogether, as the airplane tickets would not be needed anymore.

During a heated discussion, my wife found herself furious at Alex's attitude - yelling right at the start of their call and accusing her of being selfish. To complicate matters, we learned that although my father-in-law was showing some improvement in feeling in his legs, our son’s friends had advanced further, now closer to their next destination, Mexico.

In the midst of this chaos, I haven't yet broken the latest developments to my wife, waiting for a calmer moment. It's difficult indeed managing such family crises.

If this incident were part of a reality show, the drama and intense emotions would undoubtedly draw viewers in. A camera would capture every strain on Alex’s face as he dealt with the abrupt changing of plans, the tearful breakdowns of my wife, and the high-tension exchanges between family members. Viewers would be glued to their screens, speculating about the outcomes and possibly questioning each family member's reactions and coping mechanisms. The blend of family loyalty, young dreams, and critical health emergencies could provide a potent mix of relatable and voyeuristic entertainment.

It’s curious to ponder - who the audience would sympathize with more? Who would be seen as the antagonist in the whole affair? Such complex family dynamics made public could offer widely varying interpretations from an engaged audience.

Written as a letter to my mom...

Dear Mom,

You promised me that you'd visit China were I was adopted.

You promised me that we'd drive up the coast of California.

You promised me that we'd visit where you grew up in Long Island, New York.

You promised to show me around Europe and the places you went on your college trip.

You promised me that you'd go to Las Vegas for the Chinese New Year decorations for the Year of the Snake.

You promised me that we'd visit Chilé were you spent your younger years.

You promised me that you'd be there for me on all those trips.

But the most important place that I wanted you to visit is walking me down the aisle if I got married.

I'm single again, but I would've wanted you to be there with me to comfort me when things well out between my boyfriend and me.

I know you're in a better place, and we always said, "Fuck Cancer!" But by God, by anyone who would listen, we'd promised that we'd travel the world together!!!

I'm tired, it's late at night when I'm writing this. I'm sleepy.

I love you!!!

Love, you're daughter who loves you to the moon and stars and back!!

so um... for a while I went through this phase where I would take those mental health quizzes for like hours and like google stuff about it for hours(the reason why is for another rant) but I remember I felt like I wasn't sure if I was exageratting or underexagerating my answers, and then I got to this quiz about BPD (borderline personality disorder) and it all sorta fit? if you don't know what it is you can Google btw I never heard of it before my obsessive researching😭.specifically "silent Bpd". ik online quizzes and stuff like that isn't a good idea and not a good diagnosis, and its also pretty rare so I may be don't but it just fits so perfectly. like I'm gonna copy paste some symptoms from Google just bc why not ig? Key characteristics include emotional suppression, self-harm or suicidal ideation, self-blame, and a sense of emptiness, sabotaging friendships, fear of abandonment, and unstable self image, all of which are hidden from others. I'm not suicidal today, but 11 days ago I was LITTERALLY planning my death... when I was severely depressed(lasted for maybe two years was suicdal that time too only two suffocation attemps) I did like tiny sh?? I don't wanna sound like dramattic or overexageratting because I never made myself bleed, but I would push my nails deep into my skin till it broke a little and I would scratch myself as well, and in like a twisted way I was proud of myself for it bc I am super scared and avoidant of pain with a low pain tolrance. the main cause of my big depressive stage was me repressing my emotions and feelings while I was in a super toxic relationship with my friends(I wrote another vent about that either "Self Sabatoge" or "My friend has the emotional intelligence of a thermostat") and that was rlly bad bc the feelings had to come out one time or another and bc I held them in so long I'm still dealing with leftover emotions from that time which makes it super hard to move on. I constantly feel like my friends are better then me and get scared that they don't like me or think im annoying or dont acc care Abt me which acc makes my relationships worse, because I've gotten super defensive about being too nice to people bc last time I was taken advantage of, so instead of acting insecure around my friends I withdraw myself and say I dont care or stuff doesn't bother me (bc I also got made fun of for being sensitive and it just made me more sensative). I acc wonder if I'm still suppressing feelings, just less of them bc I keep like getting upset at my friends for things that shouldn't rlly make me upset? I acc wonder if its not them being insensitive like I thought in "my friend has social intelligence of thermostat" and I just don't think I deserve them or I should just stop bothering them. I am 100% sure tho that I have self image problems.. I don't think its normal to have how I think I look affect my entire mindset or mood for the day, and have how I think I look vary so much. one day I'm confident with no makeup the next a full face and I still look like a rat trying to catfish. I sometimes tell myself I'm ugly and imagin myself super ugly to keep my hopes down so when I next look in the mirror I'm not as ugly as I thought I was. I wish I could just think I was pretty and stay thinking I was pretty instead of thinking I'm pretty and then seeing how ugly I am. I'm not hiding my emotions as much as I used to bc I got tired of babying everyone and pretending it was ok for them to do whatever they wanted and not think before there spoke, but anyways, do you think I do?? maybe I need an outside eye to say weather or not I do.. I honestly don't even know what I want for this, but if it's good to get each part of what's stuck inside me out, and this is something I have been wondering for a while. anyways, thanks for getting this far! could you maybe tell me what you think Abt this?

The celebration of Canadian Thanksgiving is quite a tradition in our home in the United States, owing largely to my stepmom's Canadian heritage. Every year, her mother travels from British Columbia to host a grand Thanksgiving feast for our mostly American family. But, truth be told, my step-grandmother, whom I affectionately refer to as my “step-grandma,” lacks a certain finesse in the kitchen. More so, her personality brims with passive-aggressiveness, especially during our festivities. Each year, without fail, she magnifies her culinary efforts, expecting endless adulation for her rather unsavory dishes.

Every Canadian Thanksgiving, my husband and I find ourselves designated as the dishwashers, a task we’ve reluctantly accepted. While I don’t inherently mind washing dishes, being the sole helpers when we are guests starts to feel more like an imposition. Originally, it seemed logical since we were the youngest adults, but over the last few years, even as my stepmom’s younger relatives joined, they’d quickly retreat to luxuries like the hot tub, leaving us to labor alone. It’s particularly frustrating when I'm interrupted during rare moments spent playing with my nephew I barely see, only to hear my step-grandma's loud hints about needing help in the kitchen, followed by my dad enlisting us yet again.

The previous year marked our move to a different city. When the annual celebration rolled around, they inquired if I would attend. Initially, I hesitated and eventually declined, citing uncertain reasons before outright refusing even their offer to cover our travel costs. Truthfully, it wasn’t about not being able to go; I was simply tired of the unfair expectation that we, alone, should contribute through chores while others socialized or relaxed.

Discussing this with my two older brothers brought mixed reactions. One brother sympathized, understanding my frustration, while the other dismissed it as a trivial issue. This leaves me questioning: am I being unreasonable here?

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality show. Cameras rolling, capturing every whisper and conspicuous glance, the tension and the drama heightened for viewers at home. How would the audience react to seeing one family member consistently laden with tasks, their genuine annoyance veiled under polite compliance? The dynamics of sympathy versus judgment from the public could swing widely, possibly siding with me for feeling singled out or against me for making a 'big deal' out of family help.

Given this context, I wonder if my frustration is justified or if I should just accept these family roles silently.