Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

How do you cope with a hard week? I'm fine but I'm kinda worry because my pet's not ok, she's going to the vet this friday and I'm feeling a little bit sad for it. She's been dealing with some issues with her health state for a while but it's not that serious... I hope she'll be fine after all... But still sometimes the doubt and worries remain...

A guy fell in love with her. Totally, unaware how he will gonna express his feeling. One day, girl showed up a light .Then boy totally lost in his imagination. After talikng more than half year he got to know she had a boyfriend and he witnessed one day messaging , totally lost his mind, cant even show his anger to her cause she is the one whom he loved more than himself.

Life can feel impossibly heavy sometimes. I am 46 years old, and while I can’t claim to know exactly what you're going through, I do know the shape of pain. I’ve carried it, too. I’ve sat alone in the dark hours wondering if things would ever get better, or if this—this version of life filled with loss, fear, or doubt—was all there would be. But I’m still here, and so are you. That’s not nothing. In fact, it’s the first and most important thing. You’re still here. That means hope still lives within you, even if it’s quiet and hiding.

What you are facing today may feel endless. You might be reading this because everything hurts more than you expected. And maybe you're wondering if it ever stops, if people really come out the other side. I won’t lie to you and say it’s easy or that it ends quickly. Some pain leaves slowly; some parts of us change along the way. But what I can promise is that healing is not a myth. It’s not reserved for the lucky. It’s real, and it finds its way into lives even when it seems impossible. Sometimes, we don’t even notice the moment things begin to shift—until one day, we wake up and the weight is just a little lighter.

I read many stories here. Stories of heartbreak, of confusion, of people feeling forgotten. I want to say something very simple to each of you: it’s going to be okay. Not perfect, not always clear—but okay. Life doesn’t always tie itself into neat conclusions, but it does offer us new chapters. You have to stay long enough to see them. Please, hang in there. Do not let a temporary moment convince you that things are permanently broken. I’ve seen change in my own life—when I had no job, no partner, no direction—and I found a path again, slowly. You can too; I truly believe that.

So if you are in that dark place right now, please ask yourself: what would happen if I gave tomorrow one more chance? Maybe that’s all you need to do today—just make the decision to continue. Take rest when you need it. Let your heart mend at its own pace. You don’t have to be strong every minute. You just have to keep showing up for yourself. And if no one has told you today, let me be the one to say: you matter. Your pain matters. Your story is not over ❤️

hello , i want my identity to be anonymous and don't want to tell more about myself i am a 20year old female and i am a student. recently i asked a question to my boyfriend what is it if you ask i asked hi m about thier parents approval in this relationship where he is a muslim and i am a christian it was a very happy and healthy relationship of 1 year we were about to celebrate our 1 year aniversary and i asked this question at 18th of january 2025 i asked him what if your parents does not accept our relationship what would you do and he told that he wants both of us and i told him what if there is a situation arrives where you need to choose between me and your family what would you do ?? as a curious girlfriend i asked him this question and what he said stunned me within an hour or so he came to a conclusion that we should end it here and lets not go long way and get hurt and tells that he is doing this for me and told that he is doing this for me and he does not want to hurt you and keeps silent these all happened in call when i went to talk in real with him he ran away currently im in holidays and im in excruciating pain i dont know what to do but i think if we talk in real there might be a chance that he will realize what he is doing now should i do it ???

My friend is married and has a wife and a kid. I love him platonically and I've often worried that us being close can be perceived as anything other than pure friendship. I'm a girl for context. We're both in our 20s. I've never been in a relationship, but all my friends including him are aware i'm not interested in dating. I'm also on the asexuality spectrum. Our friendshio has always been pure but things have been getting weird. I wonder if it's my fault. I'm heavily engaged in fandom things whereas he isn't. Anyway he'sknown since forever that I read fanfiction, even messed up kinds. Smut fic makes me fall asleep. Recently, he asked if there was any tropes i liked and I told him. But Idk why despite telling him im on the ace spectrum he kept relating it to me in a sexual way? It made me uncomfortable because i never imagine myself when I'm reading those. They've always been abstract to me. He's also recently been giving out hypothetical if i were single scenarios and I want to run away because it sounds like theres something more to it and I dont want any of that. I cant help but feel mad that he's being like this. I dont want to label but he's been dumping things on me emotionally that he won't dump on his wife, even though I've told him repeatedly he should.

My friend keeps telling me worrying things like sometimes he just wants to kill humself but what's the point and how he's numb and depressed. and same thing I tell him to talk to his wife or go to a therapist. It's been so draining and I'm getting so anxious. Like why are you being like this 😭

I love him dearly as a friend but how he's acting makes him seem like such a sleaze right now (i told him about things i like reading in fiction and he keep relating it to me sexually) and it's frustrating because he doesnt feel safe anymore :(

Long vent.

I feel like a failure. I keep messing up on stuff other don't have any problems with. I want to do things but i can never meet my goals or reach what i want because i'm just so stupid and irresponsible. I keep procrastinating because I always feel so tired and in the end I can't do the things I have to nor the things I want to, because half the time i'm either hooked on my phone just scrolling and not really seeing things, bedrotting and hiding in my bed struggling to get up, or pacing around my house because I know I messed up, i don't know what to do first or how to do it and I just want to hide and start crying. I tried to set up routines or habits and then something happens and i mess It up and can't fix It anymore. And i hate when people go "OMG NO BUT YOU'RE SO GOOD. YOU DID REALLY GREAT." Because no? No i did not. I don't deserve that. I did that completly last minute because i'm an irresponsible child that says yes to everything automatically but can't be trusted anything and the only thing i want right now Is to hide under the covers for so long that people forget i I exist so i don't have to be ashamed anymore. "IT'S NOT THAT DEEP I'M SURE YOU'LL DO BETTER NEXT TIME" ok? Well i'm not. Because this Is Just the comfermation that i messed up again and all the work i put in to try to fix myself was for nothing and i can never do better because i'll always be stuck in the same circle for every single thing i do. And It's only a matter of time before you're just as dissapointed in me as i am. And yeah, maybe It's not that deep, but It's deep enough to make me realize i can never be better no matter how much i try.

Anywayyy that was too long, thanks for coming to my pep talk, (always wanted to say that), have a great day stranger ❤️

My fiancé and I are thrilled about our upcoming nuptials this October. The venue is actually my future mother-in-law's property, which is a horticultural haven, featuring elegant cobblestone walkways, enchanting fountains, and meticulously sculpted shrubbery. It even boasts stunning willow and cherry blossom trees.

The ceremony will take place in a delightful meadow nestled in the heart of their estate—it promises to be breathtaking. Meanwhile, my brother Peter, who has been with his fiancée Emily for six years now, recently came to me with some concerns. They've just gotten engaged as well, but we haven't grown very close since they live quite a distance away and usually only visit during major holidays.

Emily uses a prosthetic leg, and it seems that recently she's found it more comfortable to use a wheelchair. Peter texted me to inquire if the wedding venue was accessible for wheelchair users. I honestly wasn't sure, so I promised to find out. The place has varying terrain including sections of grass, cobblestone, gravel, and dirt, which I'm unfamiliar with in terms of wheelchair accessibility.

We visited my in-laws recently to sort out ceremony details and examine how accessible the space would be for Emily. Afterward, I updated Peter, explaining the variety of surfaces she’d encounter. When he realized we were setting up the reception outdoors on the grass under a tent, and not using additional flooring, he was concerned, pointing out it might be difficult for Emily to navigate without a hard surface.

When I mentioned the budget constraints prevented us from installing special flooring, Peter was upset, telling me we were effectively excluding Emily. He argued that if we didn’t make the wedding accessible for her, they might not attend. I was taken aback when he accused me of discrimination. My disappointment was compounded when my mother also chimed in, criticizing my decision and suggesting we should easily cover the cost since we had saved money elsewhere in our wedding plans.

I tried to explain my stance, but frustration ensued when my mom threatened to withdraw their financial gift to our wedding--even though they had already paid for our attire. My explanation that Emily and Peter could consider funding the specific flooring didn't resolve the issue, as Peter had his own wedding expenses to manage.

I feel torn—I don’t want to exclude anyone, especially not out of carelessness or indifference. But the logistical and financial challenges are genuine for us too. I'm just not sure how I can manage all expectations and needs.

Imagine if this whole situation played out on some reality show, the tension it would generate! Viewers might be polarized. Some would likely criticize me for not accommodating Emily, possibly without considering budget limitations. Others might empathize with the tough choices involved in wedding planning, knowing that no decision pleases everyone. The scenario would make a juicy, conflict-driven storyline, perfect for sparking debates and discussions across viewing audiences.

If I were faced with debating this on a reality show, how would people react?

Should I re-estimate my wedding budget to make room for wheelchair-accessible flooring?

My fiancé and I met at church seven years ago and began seeing each other three years ago. We were both previously married and quietly separated from and divorced our previous spouses. Our separations began before we started dating and our divorces were finalized after we got together.

Due to the timing of the start of our relationship and lack of broadcasting our separations, there was a lot of that judgey church gossip surrounding us being adulterers and homewreckers.

Okay fine, we were not divorced yet and that was not a great thing for us to do. We rushed God's timing and plan and that didn't need to be.

But now that our relationship has gotten more serious (IE visible), it feels like our congregation has shadowbanned us, so to speak. We were both quite active in numerous ministries and elected positions. (You know how 80% of church work is done by 20% of the congregation? We are both in that 20%. Or at least, we'd like to be.)

Over the last year as our relationship has taken off, we have been removed from most of our committees by ways of not being elected to serve another term. With one exception, no one was elected in our places. On an informal/adhoc basis, we are not selected to participate in the worship service ahead of time. If a worship participant does not show up and there is a sudden need for someone to fill in, we are not asked and when we volunteer, we are told no that's okay, someone else will do it. Or no one does it and the service goes on without.

I am finding these actions to be punitive in nature, especially since we are in a small aging congregation where there aren't a lot of people who are able to help out. So to be informally told that no one doing this task is better than one of us doing this task is weird.

The only tasks we have held onto are the major tasks that no one has shown interest in managing instead. The food pantry is a one woman show and the online media streaming is a one man show.

It hurts me that this place we've called our religious home can take our money and our physical labor, but will not allow us to serve our church in a visible capacity anymore. He is content with having less to do, so he isn't bothered the same way I am, but he has noticed the pattern.

I would like to speak to someone at the church about this, but who? I feel like I would just be gaslit. Oh no, that isn't what's happening. We just want other people to have the chance to contribute. But the liturgist pool is 2 people less. Communion takes longer because there are fewer assistants. We use online music when we can't locate an organist or pianist in the community.

It's just. Weird. And I don't know much what to do. I am contemplating church searching after the new year and seeing if a clean slate would do us good.

Am I tripping? Am I not? Is it worth having a conversation with the pastor about? Who knows? Not me.

Hello, right now i’m in a very difficult period of my life. There’s a lot going on and if you’re willing to listen, i want to thank you for your time. Please note: I will talk about mental illness, sexual assault, divorce and

I’m a woman, turning 25 next month.

In 2015 my mother cheated on my father, I was 14 at the time. To this day, I regret telling my father what happened, but I thought and still think he deserved to know.

They wanted to divorce but stayed together, my father begged my mother to stay because I was depressed and he didn’t want to make it worse. That is why I regret my decision back in the day. But honestly, I think that was just an excuse, because when they tried again. I was left alone most of the time while they went clubbing, dinner, anything really. I’m an only child so it gets really lonely. Luckily my attempts failed because I’m still alive.

After that in 2023 my father cheated on my mother. They’ve been fighting a lot lately and I’ve been their “love therapist” they are fighting constantly and honestly, I don’t think it will ever work out now. They both fumbled.

At my previous job, I’ve been sexually assaulted. Unfortunately this is not the first time—that happened when I was 20.

So at my previous job I’ve been sexually assaulted twice. I’ve been called racial slurs which is also not okay, definitely not okay, but for me it’s bearable. But after being sexually assaulted, I’ve been afraid. At that time I had a boyfriend, and I felt really guilty because I couldn’t be intimate with him anymore and I knew it bothered him.

Since then I’ve been unemployed, I’ve been actively searching for jobs, yet I keep getting rejected. I know I should keep going and don’t lose hope, but getting rejected over and over really did something to my self esteem. Even jobs I’ve done before and have 3+ experience of, didn’t want me. I’ve applied for almost anything from restaurants to warehouse to office jobs to opticians and more. Right now I’m at that point where my social anxiety is really bad, picking up the phone has been very tough after I applied to jobs—resulting in me sabotaging my opportunities.

The worst thing is, I know what I have to do, yet I can’t make myself do it. I’ve been trying really hard.

My grandma has breast cancer, my aunt has two tumors in her head, and my now ex boyfriend was an alcoholic. My other ex cheated and used my money to gamble and the one before gaslighted me telling he would kill himself if I would break up with him.

I’ve been thinking of ending it, but I won’t. Because I can’t bring my parents more sadness than they’re already going through.

Just now, my recent ex and I had a fight. He was drunk and said a lot of things that hurt me. And since I’ve had a bad day already, that really pushed me over the edge—I relapsed. I feel guilty towards myself for giving in. I feel guilty by thinking of suicide. But I won’t give up yet, I want my last memories to be happy, before it’s time for me to leave.

Thank you for listening about what happened, these were moments that have scarred me the most and I struggle with the most. I wish I could go to therapy to work on myself, but it’s too expensive since I’m still unemployed.

Please don’t be mean to me, because I’m really not that strong. Thank you.

—S

I study international relations at university, and every day I feel like I'm not smart enough, I feel stupid. It's hard for me to read and understand the material, it's hard for me to learn English (and after all these years of studying it, I still don't fully understand how to use different tenses, etc.), it's hard for me to gain the knowledge that I will need in the future. I can't read and memorize material, I have some kind of concentration problem I don't know, and any noise distracts me. I read the material, but it doesn't stick in my head. I don't know how to write reports properly, I use artificial intelligence and hate myself for it, I want to stop, but I don't know how, I was never taught this, and I don't know how to learn to write them myself. I don't have time for anything. The last time I allowed myself to really relax was in the summer, almost two months ago, because since September I've been completely immersed in my studies. I spend all my time studying, and even so, I get minimal results. I have a group of friends, and for the second year (because I've been studying here for two years), I feel like the dumbest one in our group. I always get lower grades. They have more knowledge, and they study for free because they scored high on the national test, while I failed it, and now my mom has to pay for my education, and I feel guilty about it because I let her down, since she is the only one who earns money. Today we had to pass a document (we had to translate excerpts from the UNESCO Constitution from English into our native language and vice versa). I prepared for this as best I could, considering the amount of other homework I had. I tried very hard, and I was so exhausted that for the last few days I started crying over anything, especially because of fatigue. I thought that I would pass this test today and be able to relax with peace of mind over the weekend, finally letting go a little. But I failed. 7/10, although I really hoped that the teacher would give me an 8,( I don't think I translated that badly). What also upset me was that he said in front of my classmates that he wouldn't give me an 8 because, frankly, I did much worse than Vika (my classmate who doesn't like me very much and we are like rivals). I was so ashamed, I begged him, humiliated myself, asking to retake the exam, take another test and translate, anything, just for an 8. But he said to try my luck next week, on Thursday, with the other part of my group. I left so upset because this had already happened in my first year — I got a 7 and had to retake the exam (I could have stayed with that grade, but I have a perfectionist syndrome kinda, partly because of my family, so I also spent my time then in hysterics over that grade). Then I saw that my friend had written in our friends' chat that she had gotten a 9/10. That broke me. I'm happy for her, really, I just don't understand why I can't be the same. I don't understand why I couldn't get the same satisfactory grade, why I'm doing something wrong, why I'm never good enough, why I always come across as stupid. And I'm sick of how they (my friends) try to convince me otherwise. When they always get everything right. Never once did they needed to retake the exam. And then they tell me that the grade doesn't describe me. I would say the same thing if I had such knowledge, such grades. I don't want to talk to them now, I start crying when I go into the chat and read how great my friend feels now after the exam and how good she feels, how everyone congratulates her on her good grade, when I spent the day crying and thinking why I couldn't do the same. Did I not study enough? I don't get enough sleep because of my studies, I'm not hanging out with my friends (on the internet, we usually got together to watch a movie) because I'm busy studying all day long. And now I not only have to be ashamed next Thursday and retake the exam, but also do piles of homework. There is really a lot of it, every single day, and even several pieces, and now I can't take the burden of this document off my shoulders. I am very tired, in fact, I want to rest, I want to sleep well, I want to enjoy my life, but I can't. I no longer believe that I can achieve anything in life, that this is for me and that I will be successful, I no longer believe in anything. And I don't want anything. I pray to God every day that he would just take me while I'm sleeping, or even not necessarily while I'm sleeping. I just can't take it anymore, and I don't understand how others do it, how they manage. And now, even now, I can't relax, I'm doing my homework, and on the weekend I'll be doing work for the institute. And we don't have vacation until January. I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle this.

It’s been six months since I lost him; my fiancé, my rock, my future. Some days, it feels like just yesterday that we were planning our wedding, picking out flowers, and arguing about seating arrangements—something so trivial now, right? Ever since that fateful evening when his car collided with that reckless driver, I’ve found myself this lost soul wandering through life, searching for fragments of happiness. I remember the way his laughter lit up the room, and how he always had this way of pulling me into his hugs that made everything else fade away. Now, those memories, like knives, cut deep and leave me aching. I try to fill my days with distraction, pouring time into work and waiting for the hours to pass, but no matter how busy I keep myself, there’s this hollow pit in my chest that seems impossible to fill. I mean, how do you even begin to find happiness again when the person you thought you’d share your life with is gone forever? I guess I’m just wandering in this grey space, regretting the future that will never be but also attempting to find these little glimmers of joy—like when I hear a song he loved or see a couple laughing together, and it kinda makes my heart squeeze just a bit, but then it's followed by this wave of nostalgia that I can’t shake off.

But here’s the thing—amidst all this confusion, I have this flicker of hope! I’ve started to think that maybe happiness isn’t a lost cause. I mean, who says I can’t find a way to smile again? I’ve been leaning into all those little things—like the scent of fresh coffee in the morning or how the sun hits the trees just right at dusk. I even signed up for a pottery class, which feels ridiculous at times because I totally suck at it, but it’s exhilarating to be doing something totally new and messy; it reminds me that life can be imperfect and still beautiful. I mean, am I asking too much? Just to feel that simple joy again? It’s a climb, and sometimes it feels like I’m on this never-ending uphill battle, but I’m learning to embrace the process. I read somewhere that healing isn’t linear, and I’m starting to accept that it’s okay to have days when I feel like crying or days when I feel like laughing uncontrollably. Every moment is a step, whether it’s forward or backward. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly feel ‘normal’ again, but here’s hoping that, one day, I’ll wake up and feel a little less burdened, a little lighter; maybe, just maybe, the sun will shine a bit brighter on my path ahead, and I’ll find that whimsical joy again!

So I had a surgery 2 weeks ago and since then I keep struggling with complications such as choking and hiccuping specially hiccuping it doesn't stop 24/7 which is ruining my life

TW, RELIGIOUS PSYCHOSIS,F*RCE FEEDING, AB*SE, MENTAL ILLNESS

[Present time] right now it feels horrid in my house, been eating like sh*t, feeling like sh*t, and my parents keep acting like everything is okay. I assume my mother hasn't told him that she wants a divorce(look at my other story for context) But honestly I'm scared sh*tless if he does, I'm scared. I'm scared that he'll go crazy again and hurt me or my mother.

[Past time, when was about 8-10 around then] so this was when I was coming home from school after taking the bus, my father recently stopped picking me up at my bustop but honestly I was glad I'm really ashamed of him. So I walk into my house and up my stairs (apartment) and I pause as I heard slaps and crying of my mom...? So I immediately speed up and run to the top of the stairs. There it was, my own "dad" hitting my mom, with her on the floor on her knees crying. I'm 8-10 so I stop and stand still, because what else am I supposed to do??? Yell? Stop him? She looked at me mid slap. "Oh my God! (Name), go upstairs!" is what she said, didn't want to see her get hurt so I listened. I dropped my bag on the floor and quickly ran away to my room and shut my door and sat on my bed. Sitting there. Doing nothing. Hearing her muffled cries and begs. [Time skip slightly, 20 minutes later] she comes up and opens my door as I was crying from guilt and worry, I immediately try to stop and stare at her in fear and worry because I thought she would've d*ed. But she just walks in and hugs me tightly, muttering it's okay. So I start crying more because this is my mom crying as well? And that's all I really remember from that.

[I think a couple days after the last story thingy] so it was morning in my bedroom and my "dad" brought me some pancakes(microwave type). So he sits me down and gives me my food and sits down with me on my bed, start eating them and I said that I didn't want them all. So this mother f*cker moves closer and takes the pancakes in his hand, shoves it in my mouth, forces me to chew it for a bit. So I'm crying. I'm 8-10 then. So he then says "None of this matters, it doesn't f*cking matter!! Because we all are dying and going to heaven!!" so now he puts his hand in my mouth and takes out the chewed up food and throws it at my bathroom door. He has a crazy, big pupiled, crazy smile on his face. So I scream for my mom. She comes running and screams as well, pulls him off me and takes me away from him to her room. And hugs me as I sobbed. And I remember her asking me what happened but I don't remember anything else.

[Around the time of the last timeskip] My dad was in this weird religious psychosis?? He wasn't even Christian for sake!! But whatever... So it was mid evening and I hear yelling as I was doing homework at the dining table. It was yelling about car keys and where were they? Mind you these keys belonged to my grandfather/ my REAL FATHER FIGURE. So obviously I needed to know because it was someone I cared about. So my father says "I threw them in the trail in the woods when I walked the dogs, god told me to." what the actual f*ck???? So my mom goes "what?" in disbelief because really we needed that car. So my mom soon starts yelling at them and they start fighting. Next thing I know I'm being pulling upstairs to pack bags to leave withmy grandpa outside yelling and arguing with my father about keys and how crazy my "dad" was. So obviously I'm scared. I'm 8 or 10??? So I cry and do as I'm told and soon we are running down the stairs and I see my "dad" with crazy eyes yelling "You can't take (my name) away!! That's my daughter!" I'm scared. SCARED. I'm sobbing and trying to get to the car my grandma was in with my bags. So now I look up at the yelling coming from my house window, it's my dad screaming, "I'll find you (name)! I'll f*cking get you back!!" uhm!!! I'm sobbing because I'm scared of my "dad" right now. So my grandma starts driving to leave, the path circles around the house. So I see my "dad" leaning out the window arguing with my grandpa where the keys were in the woods, my grandpa was mad so he started going to find them in the woods. And then I felt my grandma's hand holding mine so I broke, her pink nail polish and her clamy hands felt so good right then. And thats all i remember and the car keys got remade as they couldn't find them. Then I also stayed at my grandparents place for a bit as they put my "dad" in the hospfital for a while.

[Around when I was 9?] so my mom comes down stairs and accidently drops a mug and yells about leaving stuff everywhere and how useless my father was. So my mom starts grabbing mugs from the cup cabinet and throws them on the floor so my "dad" rushes to stop her and yells at her to stop and she does and starts crying. That's all I remember and I remember ending up at my grandparents place for a bit when she went to the hospital for a bit.

Thx for getting this far lol, I'd love any comments or opinions!!!

Well, let me start by saying that I have a pretty small family. It's just me, my mom, my grandpa, and my aunt. I hate her, you know. She's 36, but she acts like a child. She lashes out at all of us, she gets jealous when we get something new, and she thinks we should buy her the same thing. Once she even wished (in front of my mom, her sister) that I would die of cancer (because I have a tumor) just because we upset her somehow, I don't even remember why she was unhappy. She had a boyfriend, but now they've broken up.

And here's the problem — New Year's. For several months, I begged my mom not to celebrate with my aunt, saying that I didn't want to because it wouldn't be a celebration, but just a nightmare. She would be jealous that I got presents, she would be unhappy about everything, she would get drunk, and I just don't want that. But the day before yesterday, when we were celebrating Christmas, she showed up, and my mom is too much of a people pleaser to say no. And now she thinks we're going to celebrate New Year's together. But I DON'T WANT that, and thinking about it makes me want to cry. And I'm telling my mom to do something about it while there's still a chance. Am I a terrible person for this? For not wanting to celebrate with her? I know it will lead to a scandal, but I'm tired of everyone worrying only about her feelings when, I remind you, she is a 36-year-old woman and the fact that she has no one to spend New Year's Eve with is entirely her fault. We shouldn't have to suffer because of it.

So, my question is, do I have the right to demand this? I don't want to compromise, I just want to celebrate with my mom. And at the same time (I know it's just my mental problems, blah blah blah), I feel guilty for not wanting to celebrate, I know. But I know that it will be a 100% ruined holiday.

T.L.D.R. Hallucinations, inability to control certain parts of myself, extreme mood swings, SI/HI, and noone around me that would believe me or that I can trust to help me

I’m starting to get genuinely scared. My hallucinations (auditory+tactile) have been getting worse and clearer each day, and I can’t tell anyone about it. I have tried to set up appointments with a psychiatrist but I can’t set it up by myself. I can’t get my parents to help because they think I’m faking or over exaggerating or making excuses any time I try to talk about my mental health. Granted I can’t entirely know unless I actually tell them, but every time I bring up things that have been active road blocks, I get invalidated. Last time I told my dad it felt like he was invalidating me, he said he acknowledged I was struggling then just told me to suck it up again rather than, idk, actually caring ab it I guess? I try to tell him I can’t do certain things and he always, ALWAYS says I am victimizing myself and to stop saying I can’t, he doesn’t listen to me when I try to tell him. I use wording like “I can’t” for things to convey that it is not an active decision I am making, and all attempts to not be taken along for the ride have failed. I try and try to do things like keep up with basic hygiene, I set reminders, put it in my way, try to follow a schedule, and without fail after a couple of days everything falls apart. I’ve tried to explain that I lack a certain level of control over myself and body, I’ve literally talked about the meltdowns and full on crying I have had due to my inability to do certain things that I want to. My parents don’t know this and I don’t have the heart to tell them, but I have sometimes had such a strong mental block stopping me from getting out of bed that I have SH’ed due to it. I have such a lack of self esteem and such a large hatred for myself because I can’t fix my life and the people closest to me won’t listen when I try to convey that, and instead just think I’m not putting enough effort in. The craziest part is that my dad has been able to relate to me with things before, yet doesn’t seem to understand the extent of my problems, or can’t accept that I could have it worse. Plus there’s him just brushing my mood swings off as hormones. I know that hormones are a thing that can cause mood swings but for one, I’m almost 19 and I also don’t think hormones cause such extreme mood swings that I bounce from full on euphoria to complete depression with SI. I just don’t feel like I’m ever taken seriously by the people that I really want to. I wonder if it is because I’ve been able to hold a job since I graduated? Then there’s my issue with social anxiety, which I tried for the longest time as a kid to tell my parents that I had and instead what I heard wad that I didn’t and then was told of how bad my step mom had it and yet again invalidated. Another thing is that I genuinely feel like the only difference between me and someone that people would consider “insane” is that I haven’t acted out on anything. I have very frequent intrusive thoughts and HI, and while I would like to say that I know I won’t go through with anything, it’s another part of why I’m scared, because I’m not sure. I think about killing certain people and play through different scenarios in my head and I’ve realised that yes I would feel guilty because I took another person’s life away, but I wouldn’t feel remorseful or “care” necessarily. I genuinely need help but don’t really have anyone around me I can trust to talk about this stuff and actually get me the help I so desperately need.