Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

My husband Josh and I usually see eye-to-eye on most things, except when it comes to our taste in art (music, television, movies, visual art, etc.).

For context, he’s a huge fan of Frank Zappa, David Bowie, Radiohead, and a bunch of modern classical composers. Almost anything you’d call "pop" from the 90s onwards he despises, often ranting that nobody knows how to craft a decent song anymore.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal - everyone has their own preferences, right? But we’ve been together for seven years, and this has been a point of contention since day one. The latest incident happened last night on our drive home.

I adore Prince, but I don’t think everything he’s done is fantastic. When "Diamonds and Pearls" came on the radio, I groaned and muttered, "Great, one of my least favorite Prince songs." Josh commented that, in his opinion, this is one of Prince’s "more intriguing" tracks. I replied that while it might be intriguing, I find it kind of atonal and odd. Immediately after that, Justin Bieber’s "Love Yourself" played. I mentioned that even though the song is simpler, I enjoy it more because it has one of those timeless melodies that feels like it’s always existed, even though it was just recorded a few years ago. To support my point, I said it often gets stuck in my head and I end up humming it all day.

He argued that a song can be catchy without being "good" and that complexity and interesting composition matter more to him. I countered that complexity doesn’t necessarily make something better and that it's impossible to be objective about what makes for "good" art or music... and we went back and forth. Then he said something like, "a more sophisticated listener can hear and appreciate complexity."

He equates appreciation of complexity with "sophistication" in the listener, implying that if I (or anyone) were smart or educated enough, we’d appreciate the same things he does. Essentially, I'm just not sophisticated enough to "get" what good music is. I found this offensive and elitist, and I told him so. He said I’m too sensitive and that it’s no different from someone not being able to appreciate a poem if they don’t understand the language it's written in.

I asked Josh if he understood why I took issue with his attitude, and he said that he can’t help it if I don’t like the way he thinks about it. If I don’t want to hear his opinions on the matter, we’ll just have to avoid talking about it in the future, like we’ve been doing all these years.

Sometimes I wonder how this whole scenario would unfold if we were on a reality show. Would people side with me or him? How dramatic would it be to watch our arguments on screen?

Have I done wrong?

It's been almost a week since i had strong urge of suicide ideation. I feel worthless and feel like nothing here holds me to stay. I'm not pretty or in anyway good looking, being good at school is the only thing I know and that's the only thing that makes me feel worthy in front of my family acquaintance and relatives without it i am nothing and lately my scores are not doing good it's still passing even higher from average but its not the top like how they assume i will be and there even not just one time but a lot of time that i cheat with a friend because i really struggle in studying and i cant review the notes that i have and i just copy from her. Now I feel really worthless like staying for another day will only make me more miserable.

For the past 16 years of marriage, punctuality has continued to be an elusive concept for my spouse's parents. They are consistently late by 20 to 30 minutes and fail to notify us in advance of their tardiness. Last Halloween was particularly telling. They had promised to arrive at 6:30 PM for trick-or-treating with my now-teenage children, who had canceled their own plans to spend the evening with their grandparents. When 7:15 PM rolled around without any sign of them, a phone call revealed they were still "5 minutes away." They eventually showed up 23 minutes later, apparently unconcerned by their lateness.

This recurring issue has compelled me to establish a new family rule I've dubbed the "5-minute rule." According to this directive, if someone says they'll arrive at a specific time and fails to show within 5 minutes of that time, we proceed without them. If it's a meal, we'll order and start eating. If they arrive as we're finishing, we’ll simply leave.

An example of this rule's implementation occurred just this evening. They had made plans to dine out with my teenagers, affirming a 7:00 PM pickup. Reminder of the "5-minute rule" was given during a phone conversation at 2:00 PM. Nonetheless, by 7:05 PM, they had neither appeared nor called. When I contacted them, they claimed to be 10 minutes away. I directed them not to rush, as we would not be waiting, despite their pleas for another chance citing their one-hour drive as an excuse.

It feels outright disrespectful that they don't regard our time with any seriousness. Should I feel bad about enforcing my rule?

Imagine how this issue would unfold if it was part of a reality TV show scene. The dramatization of the confrontation, complete with tense music and close-ups, would likely divide viewers. Some might side with the grandparents, arguing that family deserves patience and understanding. Others might applaud the enforcement of boundaries as a necessary step in cultivating respect for others' time. The episode would definitely spark debate and could possibly even trend on social media as viewers share their own family punctuality horror stories.

Now, thinking about this situation, I wonder: Is my new "5-minute rule" too harsh?

I hope I am filling correctly the info of my story, I am new on IIWIARS :)

I'll keep some specifics ambiguous for privacy reasons. I specialize in breeding reptiles and amphibians, and a major part of my business involves trading with zoos across the country.

A while back, a rare species came into my possession. A contact I had chatted with previously expressed interest in acquiring this creature for their personal collection. I wasn't ready to sell at first but told them they'd be the first to know if I changed my mind. Later, when I decided to sell, I reached out to them. However, due to an oversight, I missed their reply and wrongly assumed they had lost interest.

I waited, expecting to hear from them but received no further communication—or so I thought. Eventually, I made a deal with a well-known zoo, which required me to personally transport the animal. It was only after this that I discovered the missed message from my contact who had indeed wanted to purchase the animal.

Realizing my mistake, I apologized and offered them any other animal from my collection, even mentioning upcoming arrivals similar to the one they had missed out on. They seemed initially understanding, continuing our conversations about different species I was breeding. However, their frustration soon erupted, accusing me of betraying our agreement by giving away "their" animal. Despite my attempts to apologize, they demanded I never contact them again and subsequently blocked me on all my social media accounts.

I'm left questioning if my error makes me more than just careless. Was I wrong to prioritize the zoo over the individual, especially after my promise?

Imagine if this incident were part of a reality show, the dramatic moment of discovering the missed message could have been a pivotal, tension-filled scene. The cameras would capture the real-time shock and regret on my face, followed by the heated confrontation with my once-future buyer. Viewers might be intrigued by the behind-the-scenes dynamics of animal trading, but also the intense emotional fallout from a simple miscommunication.

(not really family dramma? but idk where to put It)

So it's currently 2.00 am of 22 of july. It's gonna be her birthday on the 28. I'm currently trying to prepare something nice. I'm gonna make a cake on the 27, i intend to make a card and i'm currently trying to make a handsewed sock cat pushie. But at the same time i have mixed feelings cause i think that's a good idea but also i think It's kinda crappy and unfortunatly i couldn't buy anything this year so i feel guilty, and also i'm a beginner in sewing and the pushie already has a lot of mistakes and i'm afraid It's gonna turn out ugly and i'm gonna have to remake It. At the same time i don't even know if i actually have the right to make this and give her any of that stuff bc she right about me being selffish and being a bad person and It Is true that i'm making her life worse. And today i couldn't stop thinking about It. I really am like them and him even when i'm trying to do something good. And what if she's right about me and i am like them, why am i really giving her this gift? Is It because I wanna be forgiven for being bad? Can i even be forgiven if i can never actually be better? Is all of this Just a pretense to feel better about myself and not feel as evil? Will this crappy mediocre gift even mean anything? Will i even make in time to do everything? Is She right about the fact that i am like them and that I should be with them cause their Just as bad as me? Idk my thoughts are mess and my head Is killing me right now.

My bf: I don't want to go canoeing with you. It sounds like work, and I'm too busy anyway! Now here's something really fun, how about your drive me to my friend's daughter's who you've met 3 times's high school graduation and accompany me at her graduation party for 8 hours? Oh, and no drinking because you're the driver! Doesn't that sound like fun and not work?

I'm struggling to get over a guy named Prasoon. Even though some time has passed, I still find myself thinking about him. There's a song, "Shaky Shaky," that he once told me about. Every time I hear it, I'm transported back to the feelings I had when he first shared it with me and during our conversations.

Our relationship had its ups and downs. Eventually, he expressed a desire to live a "straight life," believing that being gay wasn't good for his mental health. Hearing this was a setback for me, and it made me reluctant to pursue him further. However, despite everything, I can't shake the feeling that we belong together. These thoughts constantly resurface and I can't seem to get past them.

One day, after a brief conversation, I asked him to cut off contact, and he agreed. Later, I asked him if he wanted to see me again, and he gave a clear "no."

Now, I'm at a loss about what to do with these persistent feelings of missing him. I wonder if it's just my hormones dictating these emotions, as Prasoon suggested

I am currently under a lot of stress due to having te move, so I didn't celebrate my birthday. After forgetting valentines day, my bf promised me this saturday would be my day and I may choose something I wanted to do together. We haven't been on dates in so long and I loved that idea!

Now, I have come up with so many things to do and he is so negative about all my ideas. (Zoo, arcadehall etc) I actually don't even want to go anymore, he does this a lot. Everytime I want to do something it never happens or I have to beg for it for months, and even if we do stuff he is withdrawing himself.

I really looked forward to having a date with him again, and I am tired of having to plan something, just for him to act this way.

If we do something he enjoys I always (even if I don't fully like it) try to enjoy it and never be negative. But my feelings also matter and I am tired of my feelings being ignored. I have talked about his behaviour in the past, and he does agree that his behaviour is bad and told me he wants to work on it himself and that he doesn't need help.

Especially in the situation I am in rn. There is a housing crisis and it takes a lot of money and stress to move. We haven't gone out for months and I haven't had a nice fun thing in months. Everyday feels like surviving at this moment in this situation and I really looked forward to our date :/

Losing my husband unexpectedly was a heart-breaking experience that left me grappling with unbearable sorrow and navigating an uncertain future. Honestly, there were moments when I felt completely lost and alone, questioning how I could possibly move forward without him by my side. Amidst the overwhelming grief, my mum became an incredible pillar of strength for me. She offered a comforting presence during my darkest moments and helped me find a way out of the grief abyss. I had to ask myself, where would I be without her unwavering support and kind words during these trying times???

My mum's wisdom and compassion were nothing short of lifesavers. Every morning she called, ensuring I knew she was there and that I wasn't facing this new reality alone. An unplanned bonus to her supportive presence was her uncanny knack for knowing when I just needed someone to listen, without uttering a single word in return. We joked quite a bit, which was a much-needed breather from the suffocating heaviness of grief. She had the extraordinary ability to bring back a little sunshine into my life. Can you imagine what a gift that is?? Her thoughtful hugs and cups of tea were small gestures that went a long way to settling my scattered mind. Mum wasn’t afraid to take the reins and help me with daily tasks that suddenly felt monumental. 💪 Household chores, meal preps, even a few Netflix nights that started to fill up the void ever-so-slightly. It’s funny how parents continue to surprise us even when we’re adults, isn't it?? Her invaluable guidance taught me to honor my emotions, yet remain hopeful about the future and acknowledge that it’s okay to ask for help. My healing journey would be incomplete without recognizing her selfless love and encouragement that equipped me with the strength to move forward each day. 🧡

You know when you love someone, but you really, really despise everything they are and their whole person, and their opinions and the way do and approach things. And your stomach twists in rage and hate and disgust when they're around? And you can't actually be Happy or love them quite right because you know you feel much differently inside? Better yet, you know when parents want their children to Learn how to swim and they just throw them in the water and Hope for the best? Yeah. That's what she does with everything. Not with me, cause i was a down right horrible child that was digusting and full hate. She didn't need to give any more. But she uses that approach with everything even important things. She throws them there. Makes important decisions and promises on a whim and hopes for the best. Except she never actually puts effort into anything. And past a certain point she gets tired and novelty of her new obssession dies out and She Just leaves It to rot. And most of the time It doesn't work. Things break and go to sh*t. And then she burst into rage and quits. Typical. It's funny cause She insists onto saying and presenting herself like the most important blessing that ever came on Earth. Which yeah. In a sense. Sure. She always starts with good intentions. And she has some solid values which i really admire. And she loves. A lot. But It's very hard to get her interest. And if she isn't interessed she ignores everything and concentrates on her newest obssession leaving everything to rot. She insists that I know nothing. And that i'm Just a scaredy cat and i exagerate. But she spent most of my Life yelling and shouting and shamming things and threathing to hurt me or destroy things I care about. And all those Animals she says she saved and loves? They flinch at every sound and movement and Hide and run away whenever they can tell she's mad. And i think that says more about her than it does of a misbehaving puppy. Maybe It's subjetive. But i honestly don't think that's love. Love and family shouldn't be built on fear and intimidation and d*ath threats. That is just picking the lesser evil to continue to survive. Recently she's been talking more about her family and i realize more and more how she Is and Why. And she's right they are worse. And their love for her was conditional. And she still loved them and still holds most of them in High regard. And that's another thing i hate about her. She so full of love. Even though she's clearly bitter about what they have done. But She lets that bottle up and takes out on others that in her regard are "under her". She's so full of love that rotted and turned into rage. And that Is something i will never forgive her for. I love her so much and i admire her a lot and i'm so sorry for cause she didn't deserve anything that happened to her. But love rots and turns into this horrible ugly thing that she passed down to me. And i hate her for It. I hate for everything. I hate her never putting effort into anything. I hate her for never listening. I hate her for always taking decisions for me. I hate her for being so superficial and fickle. I hate her for spontanuos and loving but also so full of rage and scary. And i hate her even more, because all those horrible things are exactly how she describes me. I hate that we're so alike in things in the worst ways possible. And i hate that we're so different that we Clash on everything. And can't have genuine things in common. And i hate her because I know she hates me too for those exact reasons. Though. To be honest i Guess this says as much about her than It does about me, since i'm all of this i'm saying out of hatred for her. And out of the bitter and sharp painfull feeling right next to the admiration I have for her. I am like her and much worse after all, all that hate in the pit of my stomach Is simmering and It's making more and more horrible by the day. She says i'm like them. Like him. But i've never actually known them and known what they're like so i can't be sure. What i am sure of though? I won't take responsibility and guilt for decisions she made and consequences she causes. I've already had horrible spirals and thoughts because of her, i have enough guilt to manage on my own . I've been trying to improve for years now and i think that starts with shutting her yelling out.

I don't know what it is about rejection that can make a 38-year-old man feel like a teenager all over again, standing awkwardly at a high school dance. After spending over a decade in a long-term relationship, I was thrown back into the dating game, a game that's changed so drastically with apps and swipes and all sorts of nonsense. Now, here I am, navigating through profiles like some washed-up AI in the wrong year. And let me tell you something: it sucks harder than a vacuum cleaner on steroids; constantly being told "no" by someone who doesn't know you from a picture and a couple of sentences.

Look, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. I’m getting rejected left, right, and center. It's as if each time I get a "Sorry, not interested" or "You're not the one," it chips away at my spirit, introducing doubt where there was confidence. It feels like being told you're not even worth the sniff test. Hell, I don't know when dating apps became so brutal. Are people really so quick to dismiss a possibility just because of a minor discrepancy in their perceived compatibility score? What's happened to taking a leap of faith or at least stepping outside their comfort zone for a hot minute? It's a digital slap in the face every time I think I'm making progress.

I've started to seriously question the effectiveness of these so-called "matching algorithms." Are they designed to create love or turn us into anti-social hermits with shattered egos? Just last week, I matched with someone whose profile screamed "let's make it happen." We exchanged polite messages, flirted here and there, and just when I thought a physical date was in sight, BAM! Ghosted. It’s like they introduced a new feature: "Just testing your commitment level by vanishing into thin air. Thanks for playing!" Is this part of the user experience? Each rejection is recorded as another tick mark on my personal scoreboard of failures.

Who thought clicking 'unmatched' or not responding became the norm of humane interaction? When did everyone become so shallow that they can't even afford the decency of a basic conversation? I wonder if I've become too cynical, but honestly, it doesn’t feel like a negative nancy outlook when the evidence stacks up. How does one handle such an onslaught of rejection? My instinct tells me to keep trying, just like the way you'd keep buffing out scratches on a prized car. Or do you just stop and hope that one day you won't look like "damaged goods" rolling down the highway of love?

When the cycle seems never-ending, I guess all that's left is to remember to keep going. We can't let these digital road bumps define who we are at 38 – or 58 or 18. Maybe it's about learning to be content with who you are, rather than letting the swipe-right culture dictate your worth. Is it harsh to advocate for a reality check that reminds us of core values instead of superficial swipes? I'm not usually an advice guy, but if rejection is weighing you down, maybe it's your signal to take a short break, realign yourself, take a deep breath, and come back rejuvenated. So, how do you handle rejection? Maybe we just keep figuring it out.

i swear i dont even know whats wrong with me anymore. i cant stop thinkin about him like all day all night its just him in my head 24/7. like its drivin me crazy. we aint even talkin anymore but i still keep checkin my phone every 5 mins like maybe he’ll text or like maybe he’s thinkin bout me too (even tho i know he probly not). we was never official official but it felt real to me. we had a connection, the way he looked at me, the way we talked for hours, laughin about dumb stuff. nd now? nothin. just silence. nd it hurts more than i thought it would. like why can’t i just move on like a normal person?? why am i still stuck on someone who don’t even care if i’m breathin or not??

my friends keep tellin me to forget him, to block him, delete the pics, all that. nd i tried. for real. i tried to distract myself, go out more, talk to other ppl, even flirt a lil just to see if i could feel somethin again. but i don’t. its like no one hits the same. i see him everywhere too, like songs remind me of him, certain spots in school feel weird without him there. i even wear that hoodie he let me borrow still, even tho i know it’s dumb. nd the worst part? he moved on like it was nothin. he’s talkin to someone else now and actin like i never mattered. like i was just a phase or some fun thing he did for a bit. nd maybe i was. maybe i made it bigger in my head than it really was. but to me, it felt real. nd now i just feel stupid for fallin so hard.

sometimes i cry at night just thinkin bout what i did wrong. was i too much? not enough? did i scare him off by feelin too deep? i replay convos in my head, thinkin what i coulda said diff, what i coulda changed. nd yeah i kno, i shouldn’t blame myself, but how do u not when someone u gave your heart to just lets it go like it was nothin?? he said things that made me think he cared. he looked at me like i was the only person in the room. he made me feel seen, nd now i feel invisible. like i was only temporary. like i’m just another girl he’ll forget soon.

i just want it to stop. the overthinkin, the dreamin bout him, the way my heart still jumps when i see his name pop up somewhere. i wish i could just shut off the part of my brain that still misses him. that still wants him. but i can’t. he’s stuck in me. nd maybe one day i’ll get over it, maybe someone new will make me forget how bad this hurts, but rn? rn it feels like i’m gonna feel this forever. like he broke somethin in me without even tryin. nd he probly don’t even kno. or care. but i do. nd that’s what sucks the most. cuz even if he don’t feel nothin, i still can't stop thinkin bout him. nd i hate that i still want someone who dont want me.

I feel like today was a day of hell. Everything was so disorganized. I felt like I was skipping work since I only showed up two out of three days this week. I don't want to show up on other days, but I feel a very uncomfortable level of responsibility, especially when it comes to birthday celebrations and other things. I don't want to attend celebrations; I'm there to do a great job, not to integrate in such a friendly way. I like my solitude.

I feel like I regained my solitude today. I don't know, I felt like I was getting my life back after a long time. I don't like the country I live in; there are difficulties and so on, but I feel like everything is bearable. I had to manage the psychiatrist in detail; she was influenced by my father, as I thought. She took it seriously, thank goodness, that I didn't stop the treatment; I feel good because she's attentive and also, she admits, the effect of my routine on the healing of the issue. I feel very valued by the psychiatrist, but it's difficult for her; nevertheless, we're on the journey together. It's not the best I ever hoped for.

For some reason, I feel like I've returned to normal because I feel like I can tolerate the world as it is, imperfect from my perspective and like everyone else's. I feel like I can tolerate everything now, and I'm happy about it. I was also happy to see my stepmother and her father. I don't know, all in all, I had a normal day and I was able to tolerate it well; I didn't expect that. Maybe it's because I was also able to get away from the psychiatrist and her influence. Seeing that we were able to handle ourselves, I feel like everything is fine now. It was always my life's goal to be able to manage with a psychologist, or a psychiatrist. I felt welcomed back into the world, into society itself.

I have to confess, out of all this adventure I went through, I feel like I finally got what I wanted. To be able to deal with a therapist, to work as a team in some way, not just one person on one side and me on the other. That's why, I confess, my dental treatment didn't work, in any way, that was it. Since I left my therapist, I felt like the world had turned its back on me because there was no way out of my environment; that's how I understood it. Feeling like I've finally entered, entered the world, is simply fantastic, sensational. I feel like I can walk the streets again completely normally, tolerate the day, write many things, many ideas, but always with the feeling that my efforts in mental health, if they're welcomed by anyone, well, actually by everyone now, but mainly by those who consist of the mental health aspect. That support, that verification, makes me feel like I'm on the right track, or at least, seen by someone beyond myself, and I like that, I have to confess.

I have to confess it. I feel like that was the cure for my entire illness. Just that. I feel like I'm finally believed, taken seriously, that I see beyond, that I can handle the treatment. That I can finally handle treatment, that I'm taken into account within it, that I, as a patient, deserve respect for myself and my processes—I finally achieved that. I have to confess: The only cure was having someone check on me with my mental health, working as a team. That was it. I can't do that with anyone in my circle, because no one takes care of their mental health, that's the pure truth. So, it's feeling an immense burden.

I feel that the cure, moreover, was always returning to a mental health professional, but one that truly exists. That they don't abandon you, that they're not a scam, that they don't leave you stranded, that they don't act on behalf of others but on behalf of you, that there is a therapy given for me, given by another, that you can be supported by another. Not help, I didn't want help, support, support to keep me going. That was all I needed to get back to life, to go back to my life as before. That was it. Not someone coming and doing my job. The fact that I can't do it, that was the worst part. That's why dental treatment became pure hell for me. I understand everything now.

How difficult was this for those around me? A little support, so I could do my thing my way, without changing my routine unless it was for support. This, I insist, and I think it sums it all up, was the cure. A feeling that my life could be accepted by others based on my well-being and not theirs, and even so, it produces well-being for them, perhaps not giving them what they want, but by setting an example of being in context and not unconsciously destroying a world in unrecognizable ways. How difficult was it for everyone to see that? It was too simple. How hard was it to find a psychiatrist? Too hard. In the end, he was the only savior of everything because he was the only one around me who could do that. Does that make sense? That he's the only one? The problem with the psychiatrist is that everyone had the blessed humility to say they didn't know how to treat me. But was there any? Barely one and a half people, although my mental health was pushed aside during treatment. How difficult was it for others to see that? Honestly, the dental treatment was the least of my worries, from every point of view. Rightfully so, and I understand wholeheartedly, I ended up exploding at everyone.

Ironically, right now, the psychiatrist is the one putting the pieces together. She barely does six minutes of treatment, and she does so much more than the others. In addition to one person, whose example lifts heaven and earth and changes my life. From the smallest details, I categorically say, these people saved my life. In the dental service too, listening to me for a while, playing for a while, caring for me, being present, making the effort. That also did something very meaningful for me, and I'm not going to just give up. I can't do it. Also, damn, another doctor who supported me with the psychological aspect took it seriously, and in a way that I didn't get carried away with illusions. That one also deserves my award. These people, who did something, because those who operated didn't do a thing, except move some teeth with sophisticated and useless methods because they didn't attack anything, I can't let them be left aside in any way.

Last year, during the Thanksgiving season, my mom announced that the holiday would also serve as a reunion for her extensive family. She's one of many siblings, and the guest count hit 53 confirmed attendees.

The gathering was set at my mom's place. Luckily, her brother lives right next door, giving us the advantage of using two kitchens. She tasked me with devising the menu, a challenge I accepted but soon realized the complexity of. Considering the dietary restrictions alone was daunting. Our family is Jewish with varying degrees of kosher observance, half are vegetarian or vegan, some have allergies, three suffer from Celiac's disease, and a handful adhere to a keto diet. Plus, there's always a mix of picky children and adventurous adults.

After substantial planning, I shared the proposed menu in our family group chat, and the reaction was generally positive, except for a few minor adjustments like the need for a keto-friendly cheesecake and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets for the finicky younger ones. However, my brother-in-law did not share the enthusiasm. He was notably upset over the absence of turkey from the menu. My suggestion was either to bring a turkey himself or settle for the alternatives provided. He wasn't pleased about the prospect of cooking after a long drive.

This led to a series of complaints via text from him, supported by further encouragement from my sister pushing me to take matters into my own hands and prepare the turkey. In response to continuous pestering, I made a cheeky post in the group chat declaring that he had volunteered to cook the turkey. This only fueled the fire, drawing my mother into the fray, chiding me for not handling the situation more gracefully.

Reflecting on these events, I believe he failed to appreciate the effort it took to plan such a complex menu. Admittedly, my response could have been more tactful. Now, imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality TV show. The drama would undoubtedly be amplified for entertainment, featuring tense music and close-ups of our frustrated texts. Would the audience see my actions as justified or deem them an overreaction? It’s an intriguing thought as the line between personal grievance and public spectacle blurs in the realm of reality television.

How would viewers react if this were a reality show segment?

At the age of 86, mobility and hearing challenged I find myself the care giver of my dementia suffering soulmate and my mentally ill adult daughter. It is overwhelming sometime with events and worries of what happens if I am unable to provide the care they need. Members of our small immediate family and our few close friends do not seem to understand.

I will call her Amara, [the essence of spiritual and physical beauty.] It was 70 years ago, in our Junior year at high school and it was love at first sight. She was literally the girl of my dreams then and still is the love of my life. I am blessed. We started dating and married 6 years later.

Amara and I have been the perfect team for 65 years, growing together while supporting each other in everyway possible. One of our daughters has given us a wonderful son-in-law, two grandsons to be proud of, and a beautiful great grandson. Our other daughter is single, emotionally ill and lives with us. She is estranged from the rest of the family outside our home.

In recent weeks Amara has been diagnosed with the early stages of dementia. Many of the symptoms have been present for some time. As I have learned, they are not all related directly to memory.

As a believer, I constantly pray. Everyday I ask for the patience and strength to deal with my own short-comings and provide what my dear wife and daughter need from me. Any constructive advice will be deeply appreciated.