Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

For the people that saw my goodbye post. I didn’t succeed in my attempt. It’s just gotten worse as my family members know and now I will be getting a therapist soon. I just want to go. I don’t want to stay longer.

lately, i find myself caught off guard by my reactions to even the smallest events. it's strange how watching a sentimental TikTok or hearing a slightly critical comment from a friend sends my emotions spiraling. some days i feel utterly indifferent to everything, while on others, i’m ridiculously sensitive, crying over trivialities that i wouldn’t usually bat an eyelash at. maybe it’s hormones, or perhaps this is simply what being a teenager entails. still, the inconsistency of my emotional state makes me question whether something more profound might be at play here. do other people my age feel this overwhelmed by basic, everyday situations, or am i just overly dramatic?

it's weird how sometimes emotions just hit differently, right? like yesterday, i was joking around with my bestie when she casually said something about how i take things too seriously. she wasn't even mean about it, just teasing me like usual. yet somehow, that casual remark lingered with me the entire day, making me feel unexpectedly inadequate and overly self-conscious. logically, i understand it was harmless banter, nothing worth dwelling upon, yet emotionally, it felt disproportionately impactful. later, scrolling through my socials, i came across a meme about being overly emotional, and instead of laughing it off, i genuinely related and felt comforted knowing others might feel similarly conflicted. it’s bizarre, isn’t it, how quickly emotions fluctuate from laughter to near tears, leaving you wondering if your reactions are typical teenage turbulence or indicative of deeper insecurities you haven't addressed?

sometimes i try stepping back, analyzing my emotional patterns objectively, hoping to uncover why i'm experiencing these drastic emotional shifts. perhaps i should consider external factors—lack of sleep, academic pressure, or social dynamics—as they undoubtedly influence mental equilibrium. additionally, adolescence inherently entails emotional instability, thus explaining why minor stressors trigger exaggerated reactions. despite acknowledging this logically, the sensation remains intensely personal and often isolating. so, here i am, articulating these thoughts to strangers online, hoping someone else might resonate and reassure me that feeling emotionally overwhelmed occasionally doesn't signify weakness or abnormality; rather, it merely highlights our shared human fragility. do any of you experience this emotional rollercoaster, and if so, how do you typically navigate these confusing, unpredictable feelings?

In my time as a florist, I've encountered all kinds of hectic situations, but one Saturday morning truly topped the charts. Emily, the bride, and her mother, Helen, arrived at our shop at the crack of dawn, a mere three hours before Emily's wedding was set to begin. Their request was simple yet daunting: a bridal bouquet, a special corsage for the mother of the bride featuring cattleya orchids, a boutonniere for the groom, and six additional ones for his attendants.

The bride eagerly thumbed through a premium floral book, pointing out designs adorned with garden roses, dainty stephanotis, and intricate variegated ivy—all flowers that needed to be ordered well in advance. Both Emily and her mother couldn't grasp why we didn't have these luxurious, perishable items just lying around. The cattleya orchids Helen wanted were nowhere to be found in our inventory either. Caught in a bind, my boss firmly explained the limitation of choosing from available stock and sticking to simpler designs due to the time crunch.

As our discussion heated, Emily alternated between tears and indignantly protesting that we were sabotaging her special day. My boss, who was notoriously short-tempered with last-minute bridal requests, bluntly reminded her that the oversight in flower planning was her own doing. Helen attempted to confront my boss on her supposed poor service, receiving a pointed suggestion to try their luck at a nearby supermarket's floral section instead.

Defiantly, Helen declared they would do just that and reassured Emily that everything would be sorted out in time for the wedding. They left in a huff, leaving us to sigh in relief.

Yet, within minutes, my boss decided we should preemptively prepare something. So, we started crafting six simple boutonnieres from the dendrobium orchids we did have. Meanwhile, my boss put together a basic bouquet using some slightly wilted white roses and more orchids.

As expected, Helen returned not long after, her tone much subdued, pleading for us to assemble the necessary arrangements. We managed to pull everything together on time, but not without imposing a hefty rush fee for their troubles.

Imagine if all this drama unfolded on a reality TV show! The cameras capturing every tear, every argument—our florist shop turning into a stage for bridal meltdowns and frantic last-minute fixes. Viewers would probably be on the edge of their seats, judging between sympathy for the unprepared bride and frustration at her entitlement. It would surely be an episode filled with tension and maybe a few laughs at the absurdity of it all.

I think that this is less of a question and more of a vent. I was at a festival recently and for the first time in a while I felt genuinely happy and optimistic about my life and my future, it was 100% one of the best days of my life. Though afterwards, my dad sent me all of the videos and photos that he took and I’m in nearly all of them. I’m so ugly in each one and it’s not subjective or me being insecure, I am truly ugly and there’s no redeeming me. It makes me feel really sick and I got so angry at my dad for ruining my memories by reminding me how I looked, and how even when I was my happiest and smiling I still looked dreadful. It makes me embarrassed to go outside because I know that people are seeing my face and judging me. Even if they’re not judging me, they’re feeling sorry for me or are disgusted. I struggled to sit with my family for dinner tonight and nearly cried because I was aware that they could all see my face, and that’s mainly what made me write this. This sounds silly but I wish that we were all nothing but our souls, and had no physical bodies to worry about. I regularly struggle with suicidal thoughts anyway and I feel hopeless because every time I start to feel better I gain something else that makes me want to die. I suppose I’m just looking for validation on here so does anyone else relate? Or has anyone else also accepted that they’re ugly and have learnt to live with it? I’m 15 so perhaps my face will change overtime, but for now I can just see myself getting fatter and uglier by the day because of my horrible thoughts, so no hope.

Do I want him, or do I simply just yearn for the feeling of being loved by somebody? Am I simply just bored, suddenly craving the attention of someone else while still having the full attention of him? I am a horrible person. I am undeserving of being loved; I do not have the capacity to be loved for anything but my measly little body. My frail feelings have me running in circles, eager to figure out... what is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I am undeserving of love. I see why nobody ever wishes to have me.

I'm struggling so much I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend of 1.5 years, and I have no idea at all if I still have romantic feelings for him. I always want the best for him, and I truly do want to see him succeed in life, but I just don't know if I love him anymore in that way. I've begged for months on end just for him to listen. to understand how I feel. He doesn't get it. He only wants to change when I'm beginning to slip from his grasp, and it's the worst feeling in the world. Only now that I'm starting to lose my care factor, he wants to fix the issue I've had for a YEAR. It feels so horrible. To add to that, my guy best friend is being really weird .. like oddly affectionate. It has me feeling ... confused? causing my struggle to worsen, even? And not only that, but he has been borderline encouraging me to leave my boyfriend.

I'm so confused .. lost, even. I don't know what to do with myself. It doesn't help I'm struggling with severe depression (5 years, ongoing).

As a father of four kids, you’d think I’d have the patience of a saint by now, but that’s just not the case. The tiniest things set me off, and I hate the way it feels. I love my family more than anything, but there are days when I catch myself snapping over something completely ridiculous and wonder what’s wrong with me.

Take last night, for example. Dinner time at our house is always chaotic. Plates clatter, someone spills their drink, and there’s a constant battle over who gets the last roll. It’s the usual stuff, and I know it’s part of having a big family, but when my youngest accidentally knocked over the salt shaker for the third time in a week, I lost it. I raised my voice, and the look on her face—pure shock—hit me like a punch to the gut. It was just salt. Why couldn’t I just laugh it off like my wife did? Instead, I made her feel bad for a mistake that didn’t matter.

This kind of thing happens all the time. It’s not the big issues that get to me—it’s the little, everyday stuff. Toys left in the hallway, a sock that doesn’t have a match, a crayon mark on the wall... all of it feels like tiny needles poking at me until I can’t hold it in anymore. And when I snap, I immediately regret it. I see the way my kids look at me, the way my wife sighs and shakes her head, and I know I’m the one in the wrong.

I’ve been trying to figure out where this anger is coming from. It’s not like I want to feel this way. I don’t wake up thinking, Gee, I can’t wait to get annoyed at the world today. But by the time the day’s over, I’m worn out. Between work, bills, chores, and keeping up with four kids, it’s like my patience tank runs dry way too fast. It doesn’t take much to set me off after that.

I think part of it is the pressure I put on myself to keep everything together. I want to be a good dad, a good husband, and someone my family can rely on. But when things don’t go the way I expect—when the house is messy, or the kids are fighting, or dinner gets burned—it feels like I’m failing. And instead of dealing with that feeling, I let it boil over into anger.

Another part of it is how I grew up. My dad was the same way. He’d get angry over the smallest things—a shoe left out of place, a door left open, the TV being too loud. Back then, I swore I’d never be like that, but here I am, falling into the same patterns. Maybe it’s something I picked up without realizing it, but that doesn’t make it okay. I don’t want my kids to remember me as the dad who yelled over spilled milk.

I’ve started trying to be more aware of my triggers. Like, when I feel that frustration bubbling up, I try to pause and ask myself, Is this really worth getting upset over? Sometimes it works, but other times, it’s like the anger is faster than my logic. I know I need to find better ways to cope, but it’s hard to break a habit that feels so ingrained.

My wife has been incredibly patient through all of this. She’s the calm one in the family, the one who can laugh off the chaos and remind me to do the same. The other day, after I got upset about a broken remote control, she pulled me aside and said, “You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, you know. It’s okay if things aren’t perfect.” I know she’s right, but letting go of that control is easier said than done.

The hardest part is the guilt. After I’ve calmed down, I think about how my kids must see me in those moments, and it breaks my heart. I don’t want them to feel like they’re walking on eggshells around me. I want them to feel safe, to know that mistakes are okay and that their dad loves them no matter what. But when I let my anger take over, I’m sending the opposite message.

If you’re reading this and you’ve felt the same way, I want you to know you’re not alone. Being a parent is hard, and we’re all just trying to do the best we can. But I also know that getting angry over little things isn’t fair—to ourselves or to the people we love. It’s something I’m working on every day, and if you’re struggling with it too, maybe we can figure it out together.

I don’t have all the answers yet, but I know this: I don’t want to keep asking myself, why do I get so angry over little things? I want to find a way to let go, to focus on what really matters, and to be the kind of dad my kids can look up to. It’s not going to happen overnight, but I think acknowledging the problem is the first step.

Here’s hoping the next time the salt shaker falls, I can just laugh it off and keep going. Because in the end, it’s not about the salt—it’s about the love and chaos that comes with being part of a big, messy, wonderful family.

I and my friend have their own angst yes, but I've always felt so invalidated towards my feelings, I keep comparing our situations.

Like, one time I and my mom got into a fight which ended up with me crying in my room, but then my friend chats me about something negative that happened.

It's more of my fault of why I feel invalidated, I keep saying "my situation isn't that bad, look at them" hahah

My sister is 3 years younger than me, and she's basically getting everything she wants with basically no consequences. when I was younger than her age, I had to be self reliant because our parents were busy working as we had no home and had to stay in a relative's house- we all had to sleep in one room, and I didn't even have many personal belongings- I had to prioritise taking care of myself- ironing my uniform, making my own lunch and breakfast, straightening my own hair, and having to walk 40 minutes everyday to school when we no longer had a car- even when we did, I was often berated by my dad for being slow because I was late and he had to drop me off- but that was because I didn't have any food for school. This was when I was 12- I don't really think it's a big as it's important to be self reliant when you're older, but the thing is, my parent keep coddling my sister to the point where she doesn't want to do anything for herself for her own, honestly selfish, reasons. She doesn't do her own laundry, style her hair, make her own breakfast or lunch because she can't be bothered to- this was by her own admission. She's 15 turning 16. She also doesn't clean up after making a mess. She studies in the living room- which is fine, obviously- but this now means that the entire living room is a mess of papers- even when we clean up, we can't do anything about them because she'll literally get so angry and starts to get aggressive and messes up the room if she can't find anything - which is annoying since I'm the one who has to clean the living room. She can also be very judgemental and rude to me about my interests and has called me cringe if I'm interested in things she doesn't like. She just doesn't feel like a considerate person at all. Honestly, she's the main reason why I'm excited to move out for university because I feel like I'll be able to live my own life- like I won't have to sacrifice my self worth just for her. I'm also hoping that she'll learn to mature and calm down as sometimes her temperament scares our mum off too

At 26 years old, I find myself wandering through a labyrinth of ideologies that pit spirituality against organized religion; it’s as bewildering as trying to navigate a dense fog with no clear path ahead. A few weeks ago, I attended a church service that was supposed to be uplifting—the pastor eloquently spoke about love, grace, and the importance of community. I expected to feel enlightened, but instead, I dragged myself home feeling empty. I remember thinking, “Is this it? Is this what faith is supposed to feel like?” Similarly, on another day, I swayed to the rhythms of a local spiritual gathering that promised enlightenment through meditation and collective energy. People were chanting and holding hands, seeking connections beyond the physical. I wanted to feel that current of cosmic energy flowing through me, but instead, I was plagued by the nagging thought: “What if all of this is just a placebo effect?” It’s frustrating to oscillate between these two worlds—each with its proponents vigorously asserting their narratives while dismissing the other’s merit. A good friend once remarked, “Being religious means believing in something, whereas being spiritual means believing in everything,” which left me more puzzled than ever. Is it possible that these categories are merely constructs that serve to confine the vastness of human experience? Honestly, I don’t know; the ambiguity is suffocating. Just the other night, I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, surrounded by a hodgepodge of religious texts and spiritual books, feeling like I was compiling a thesis on a subject I barely understood. I skimmed some passages—Buddha’s teachings on mindfulness contrasted starkly with the heavy doctrines of the Catholic faith; one promised inner peace, the other eternal salvation. It's like choosing between two different types of refuge, both equally enticing yet fundamentally distinct. One may claim, “Follow your personal truth,” but what if your truth is yet to be discovered or, worse, fabricated? ✨

Why is it so difficult to harmonize these beliefs? In the pursuit of clarity, I’ve engaged in endless debates with friends who identify as yogis or fundamentalists; they each argue fiercely for their path, yet here I am, stuck in a perpetual limbo. One afternoon, I found myself in a particularly disconcerting conversation with a devout Muslim woman who discussed the beauty of prayer and community while I could not help but admire her dedication yet felt a pang of longing for the fluidity of spirituality that evades rigid structures. Is a structured belief system inherently restrictive? Or does it provide guidance where spirituality assumes an almost abstract, chaotic essence? I frequently ponder if these traditions are mere vessels of cultural heritage, and how absurd is it that instead of embracing the richness of diverse practices, I find myself shackled in indecision? I often wonder if faith is merely an escapade into the unknown, shrouded in the allure of transcendence but ultimately leading us back to the same existential questions: What is our purpose? What happens when we die?

As I exercise my cognitive faculties to decode the meanings of ‘spirituality’ versus ‘religion,' I can’t shake off the dire feeling that I’m constructing a metaphysical house of cards that could collapse with just the slightest breeze of doubt. “Why do I have to choose when possibly it’s all just an intricate tapestry of beliefs?” I silently scream to the universe, hoping for an answer that never comes. I turn to books, podcasts, and online courses—each touting formulas for a fulfilling spiritual life or an unwavering faith—but do they actually coalesce? Or am I just grasping at straws, hoping for a divine revelation that appears to allude me? I grapple with the paradox that my quest for truth grows heavier with the weight of expectation and self-imposed timelines; I find myself frantically circling back to my fundamental question: Do I desire the grounded morals of religion, or the expansive possibilities of spirituality? Each evening, I lay awake, hoping that someday both worlds can harmonize, creating a holistic framework that resonates with my soul rather than trapping it; Feeling lost has never felt more suffocating. It begs the question: Is anyone else out there wrestling with this dissonance? Does anyone grapple with whether to leap into the arms of tradition or float in the vast ocean of spirituality?

idk if im gay or bi or straight or just confused. like i see this one boy in my school and he smile at me and my brain went all like fuzzy?? not like when i look at girls sometimes idk it just feel different. not better or worse just weird. i dont like hate myself or nothing but i feel like i wanna know what this is. i try look at girls the same way but it not same feeling even tho i still think they look pretty. my friends always talk about girls like oh she's hot or whatever and i laugh along but i feel kinda fake. like why i dont feel that strong? but then again maybe i do just not same time or same way. my brain go all confuse when i try think hard. i seen some gay stuff online too and some of it make me feel things, like not bad things just kinda like oh that’s nice, and i dont know if that mean something or if it just a normal thing like people curious. i read that some people just need time to figure and that you not gonna have all answers at once so maybe that’s me too;

i talk to my cousin once, he gay and he said it took him years to know. he said don’t rush and just feel what you feel, don’t push it away but don’t force nothing either. he nice and i trust him but still i scared to even say to friends or anything. they not bad people just always making jokes like calling stuff gay like it’s dumb or weak or something and that make me not wanna say stuff even if i maybe gay. i don’t feel ashamed or like i’m doing wrong but i also don’t wanna be laughed at or treated weird. i think about future too and if i wanna have a boyfriend or girlfriend and it feel like both could maybe happen?? but also neither maybe?? is that even a thing? like not choosing or just feeling okay with both and letting it go where it go. i wish school teach this stuff better instead of just making us read poems from old dead guys. we got feelings too and not everyone feel same and that okay. sometimes i just wanna talk and say all this out loud but my throat close up like i scared of my own voice.

i still don’t have answer. maybe i never will get a big moment where i’m like “oh now i know”. maybe it gonna be little stuff adding up and one day i’ll just feel okay with whatever i am. for now i think it's fine to wonder and not know for sure. maybe you reading this feel same and that okay too. i’m just trying my best to be honest with myself and not hate anything i feel. i wanna like who i like and be okay with that. life already hard enough without me hating my own heart. so i gonna keep thinking and living and hoping that things get clearer. and maybe one day i’ll smile at someone and they smile back and it just make sense. 😊

What I've realized from this man is that you don't always need to have what you want. Yes, I wanted to pursue him in anyway I can, but he made it clear that he didn't wanna talk to me, and that's fine. I have been thinking about so many things that would make our friendship hard anyway. Being trans is who I am and when I asked him about how he felt about trans people, he left me on sent and didn't respond. It wouldn't've been beneficial or wise to my mental health to seek camaraderie in someone like that. While I still think about him and what could've been, I think it's for the best that it remains a mystery.

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?

So, I'm part of an online group of friends who play online and chat about common hobbies, passions, etc, nothing too harmful. I'll start by saying that I'm closer to one of them (let's call him R) that I've known for years, but I enjoy talking with all of them. All good, until a few days ago, when there was some sort of private, aka not in the general chat, fight between R and another person (S). Now, R and S have been quite close for years, but there was some disagreements already (personal stuff between them) that blew out of proportion after a comment made by R that S thought it was about him. R says it wasn't, but who knows really. Ever since that the group has been silentish, in a weird tense mood. I know about the fight from R, the others know from S, and it's like inevitably the group split between R and I, on one side, S and the others on the other, even though no public reference has been made to the fight. I don't know how to approach this situation, R thinks we're being quietly shunned out by the others (whom I still can see interacting with each other) and while I initially thought it was crazy, after almost a week of this I feel kind of drained by this whole situation. I never acknowledged what happened between them, never made comments, even in chat with R I tried to keep up a "maybe it's nothing/maybe it's a coincidence/maybe they're just busier this time around" more to try to keep R calm, but I've got to say I'm starting to agree and would like this situation to end, someway. What happened between R and S is not something I have part in and on their "break up" of sorts S said to R that he'd interact normally with him, just less "closer", but it's hard to believe now. Even talking to R is becoming something that keeps draining my energy, even though a friend sticks to a friend and I deny feeling tired by this whole situation when he apologies about it. I don't know, it sounds dumb and childish, but I just want my chill group back.

Your rose is surrounded by the thorns of your strength, I know as much. Yet I hold it in my hand delicately in fear that those petals fall out in the breeze of my passion and regret

I can't help but ask why I keep holding it. Why do I torture myself with the thorns going through my fingers when the rose won't even bloom in my direction? My frustration grows. I hate it. I hate myself. From all the other flowers in the garden, why is it that this rose captures my attention? Why am I always drawn to its scent? I'm not certain the scent is meant for someone else, if any at all, but no doubt it's not meant for me. So why does it call for me? And why do I answer?

I'm only ever growing more sick of that scent. Or maybe it's the image of the delirium that came with the memories of you that urges my stomach to vomit my insides out. The elegance, the style, the dress, the smiles, the soft warm looks you used to give me - I hate them all. I wish I could hate them all. Maybe then I could let go. But no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, the world never looked good in black and white

I'm only ever growing more sick of that scent. Or maybe it's the image of the delirium that came with the memories of you that urges my stomach to vomit my insides out. The elegance, the style, the dress, the smiles, the soft warm looks you used to give me - I hate them all. I wish I could hate them all. Maybe then I could let go. But no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, the world never looked good in black and white

My heart still sinks at the sight of you. And the body rushes in the anticipation of talking to you again. The worst part is that I was fully aware, of my attraction, from beginning to end, but knowledge alone can't help what happens beyond it.

It's painful. Seeing you walk past. Never sure if you hate me for something I've done or for the times I walked past you with no reaction like you weren't there. Perhaps I deserve it. And yet I didn't know what else to do. No matter how painful seeing you is, it never compares to the days when you're not around.

I just can't do this anymore. All my friends are pissed at me for things I don't remember. My parents are disappointed in me for absolutely EVERYTHING: my grades, the people I'm friends with, the fact I'm genderfluid, everything. I don't care if people will miss me or not. I need to get out of here.

(nobody mentioned below is on this website as far as I know, I just need to get this out.)

Sam, I'm so sorry. You told me to stay strong but since I can't talk to you anymore, I got weak. I knew I couldn't survive without you, but I was stupid and didn't try to find a way for us to keep talking. If I can live through this, I will find a way for us to connect.

Bowie, you're welcome. I'll finally be out of your life, just like you wanted. You wanted that, right? Of course you did.

Emma, my love, I'm so, so sorry. But I can't go on like this anymore. I love you, but I gotta go.

To my parents: I was the child you didn't want, right? Well, now you don't have to have me anymore. See ya.