Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I think I like most music... But I can't really tell. I usually adjusted to the music other people liked. Or I simply was too afraid to stand up for the music that I actually liked.

I remember being in elementary school and I saw my first K-pop video... I can't remember who they were, but this girl who seemed to be nice wanted to share her interest in music... K-pop. I was young and honestly pretty stupid back then... And scoffed at her saying it wasn't real music... She then said, if you don't like the music, at least look at the cute boys... I looked, I blushed and the lied and said..."they're not my type"... And that was a forking lie!! I have sinned! I love K-pop now... But I was again, very stupid and judgemental back in my tiny-tot days.

My favorite group is Stray Kids... But my mom would always mistake them for Stray Cats🤣!! If any K-pop came on the radio, my mom would be like... "Is this the Stray Cats"😂!? Mew😹! At some point I just agreed that my favorite K-pop group was officially Stray Cats whenever I was with my mom!

My favorite songs from them mostly consist of their Oddinary album. But I like the song Railway, Red Lights, and Drive... Yes, my brain is sludge and I need to touch grass... So what🤪! Railway's music video kinda creeped me out though... Since it seemed to have a horror theme to it. I respect the horror genre, but I would've readily watch it willingly... Unless it's Stray Kids(Stray Cats)!

Alexa doesn't seem to register when is say..."Alexa"..."play Stray Kids Oddinary Album". She doesn't seem to understand that Oddinary is an original word by Stray Kids(Stray Cats). So I have to manually tell her the title and group I want her to play for me😭! But get this... She understands what Maxident is! Or was it Maxidant? I can't remember the spelling?

I don't know if I like art? I always thought I did. But whenever I'm around real art fans, I just feel like an uneducated potato. And I honestly don't wanna hear the stories behind art or their meanings. I simply enjoy the way they look. If they bring any feeling to me without any description or knowledge given to me. But again, being around art buffs... It's not easy to make conversation with them when they seem to wanna talk about the artists, or their techniques, or the meaning behind a certain piece of art. I just like to look at it. Plain and simple.

My mental health has always been a shit show and it has caused me to be a bad person to the people around me sometimes. I've also always had a kind of bad/dysfunctional relationship with my parents.

3 years ago, I lost my support system presumably because of something I did. I say presumably because I still don't know what exactly caused it but it might have been a small decision I made that tipped off an amalgamation of grievances between everyone. My support system decided to drop me overnight and I never got closure. I reached out to them to see if this was something that could be talked about because I was confused about it but was met with bullying and ostracization. They said some pretty mean things about me that I fear are now coming true. They told me I would never be able to make real friends and that I would always have a hard time succeeding in life.

This happened closely before I moved to a completely new country where i knew no one and because I was processing my loss, i had a hard time forming connections with anyone else. I'm three years in at a new school and I have no close friends, i have friends that have made it clear to me that i am not part of the "inner circle" and I am borderline being stretched so thin just trying to pass classes. My advisor tells me i might have undiagnosed ADHD but I don't know if I can take another blow to my ego of having a mental illness that can't be rationalized and is just something i have. My relationship with my parents are still no better, if anything only worse due them growing more stubborn with age, and me growing into an adult.

Sometimes, I feel like i was the same person my support system said I would turn out to be and that there is nothing I can do to escape that fate. I've tried hard, out of spite but there's only so much spite can fuel before it starts burning me too.

I'm a teenager. When It was quarantine, I've slowly gotten depression, anxiety, and all that stuff. One day, my mother didn't come home that night with my father since they both work 8 to 5. I was worried and asked where she was. My dad said she was staying somewhere else for the night, but my worries didn't die down. I later texted my mother asking where she was and she said that she was in the sidewalk and that she was going to sleep there. I was shocked and continued to text her until 12 AM. She told me to go to sleep, so I deleted out convo with her and cried to sleep. Later on that following week, I found out she was staying over her friend's house and slept over there, because she and my father got into an argument. Fast forward a couple weeks, our pitbull named Luna got out of her cage and got loose all over the outside of our house. We had gates so she couldn't leave easily. As my parents got home from work, we found out that she chewed on my mother's slippers that were outside. My father was irritated and when I was in my room, possibly playing my games or watching tiktok, I hear the throws of slippers my dad threw to Luna. Abusing her, I heard her pained howls but i turned a blind eye. I didnt wanna end up like her. That night, I also cried to sleep. One day, my mom was suspecting she had cancer. So she went on a checkup with my father. After a couple days, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was laying in my bed when my father came up to my bed and told me 'youre always on your phone. Decrease your screen time and at least care for your mother. Your mother had cancer now and she needs all the love and care." I interpreted this on how I understood what he said. When I heard that, I was horrible. I was helpless. I wanted to help my mother but didn't know how. Right when my father left the room, I burst into tears. Slowly breaking down. (My mom is fine and healthy now. She got her chemotherapy treatment done already, and does regular check ups.). In quarantine, I'm sure it was normal that some people like me got fat and all that. I was insecure of my fat body back then, and wanted to get skinny. But then one day, my father told me something before me and my mom we're about to go out. "You look pregnant" he says with a grin. If that were a joke, why didn't I laugh? After that day, I started to starve myself and started only eating 1 meal a day. It was a couple months, after my mom found out since I was throwing up due to not eating properly. I'm well off now, at least better than before. Back to quarantine, I had this trio I was part of since elementary. But when it was quarantine, things started to change. One day we started to fight all afternoon, and let's call one of them Anna, and the other Rachel. Rachel avoided the arguments, usually the peace maker or just agreeing to some statements one did to another. Anna and I were the ones fighting. She was always with her other friends, and I was thinking that she was replacing me and rachel with her new trio. Every argument was over text because it was quarantine of course, but I mostly ended with sobbing to my plushies on my bed in the afternoon. Time passes, it's 2022. We went back to school with just me and rachel as friends. We broke ties with Anna after finding out the toxic friendship. In the first year of my freshman year of highschool, I was doing well. Enjoying being with the new classmates. I loved how joyful they were. Until one day, in second quarter. Our car's battery broke and my father was irritated and frustrated with all the money he had to spend. (We're well off also.) He was angry as well that we didn't seem to care and only cared about our own efficiency on the car. We didn't. My mother, the wife she is. She tries to help. Offering to contact the car brand company so they'll fix it. My father then broke out and said "if you thought of it, you pay for it! It's easy." I can hear the anger even if it was in text. I was in school while that happened. I was reading the texts in out family gc, holding back my tears. Afraid anyone will see. After my father sent a few more messages, my mother then broke as well. "Fix yourself, (father's name.)! We aren't the cause that car broke down, so don't blame us!' I can feel her frustration through the phone. After my father sent a few more text messages, my mother left. I thought they were going to go through a divorce. After two hours or so, my mom was added back by my big sister. My parents then deleted their messages, and my father texted me, "sorry about earlier, okay?" I ignored his message. After all this, I now have eczema, because of genes and possibly stress. I am now acidic, I cannot eat too much food that contains acids. Such as apples. I have mental problems, and I can barely understand myself. (I have not seeked a therapist for all this, as I have been hiding this from everyone. I am a minor and most probably need an adult to consult to a therapist.)

Recently, I embarked on a journey from Melbourne to Dubai. Anticipating the long, fourteen-hour flight, I opted for a premium economy seat to ensure some degree of comfort during the travel. Little did I know that this decision would involve me in an unexpected dilemma.

As I settled into my seat, the passenger beside me struck up a conversation. It turned out he had just been upgraded and was traveling with his new wife, as they were on their honeymoon. He put forth a request; if I could possibly switch seats with his wife, who was seated in the standard economy section towards the rear of the aircraft.

I expressed my congratulations on their marriage and inquired about her seating location. When he pointed out her economy seat, I found myself in a tough spot. I politely declined to switch seats, given the significant difference in comfort and amenities between our seating classes.

He persisted, asking if there was any incentive that might persuade me to change my decision. In response, I suggested that I might consider swapping seats if he compensated me for the price difference, an additional $1,000 AU$. Upon hearing this, he mentioned they were traveling on a budget for their honeymoon, and I congratulated them again while resuming to my own world of music and solitude with my earbuds. His parting words, under his breath, were not too kindly, as he labeled me selfish. My retort was that he, too, was not being considerate by opting for the upgrade alone rather than with his wife.

Later, sharing the incident with my wife, she opined that perhaps I should have been more gracious. Yet, I know well her own disdain for economy class, and I doubt she would have made the switch either.

If this encounter were part of a reality show, one can only imagine the varied reactions of an audience watching the dilemma play out on screen. Viewers might align with my desire to retain a seat I paid extra for, or they might sympathize with the newlywed couple, seeing my decision as unsympathetic. Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, compelling the audience to ponder what they would do in a similar situation, possibly provoking debates and discussions long after the episode airs.

What's your take on switching seats on a plane?

Hello everyone, I don't vent usually but I need to share my feelings. I have been in a relationship for 8 years. Lets call him A, we have been on and off, because we fell out for a few years but this is a new story. He reached out to me to reconnect and start dating after a long period of no contact. We were going strong happy we would work it out if we had conflicts. I believed that love can be worked out and he did too we both agreed on most things but we did have a conversation about having kids. I didn't mind if they're adopted, ivf surrogate or even biological. I am a trans man so at first I had to think about it but I wanted kids with him I wanted our future together. He knows I'm trans but I wanted to let him know what if I couldn't have them? I don't think I couldn't but I just wanted to see his reaction well he just went to you don't want kids then. That wasn't true but we seemed to figure it out ever since then I felt like he didn't feel the same way before but he assured me everything is fine I'm just over thinking. Fast forward to now, were long distance we live 8000 plus miles apart we both are focused on visiting each other, he was going to see me but he said something happened where his work won't let him get PTO. I've met him multiple times younger so I made the choice to visit him in his country although its not the most supportive of trans people anyways I tell him hey I'm going to come then he buys a house. A house there lol to visit me. In return that made him tell me to wait I got really upset because it felt like he made plans to stay there for now even though I've been trying to work for a future with him. He hits me with, do you really want kids? I said yeah I do and then he says even to breast feed? I'm like wait no what I'm trying to get top surgery. Its my body and I feel like bottle feeding is better. Anyway that was so shocking to him he almost crashed his car. This made him feel like he lost the fire and it was so important that he said its not going to work. I told him I'm okay I'll compromise but he said he will never see a future with me and he's afraid of me being in the future “my kid my choice” to him a kid is a final thing and he's scared of what I might do. I feel offended but sad I wanted to reconcile he said he loves me so much, but I changed the whole core of our relationship. He says I pushed him to making it forever cause I said well if you see no future that means we can't be in each others life and he said that's fine but he loves me anyway. He wishes that I'd be forever there but no future :(.

Hello loml. I still think about you up to this day and it doesn't get any better lol. I hope you doing okay.

It's been a year since I tied the knot with my husband, and we decided to buy a house together. In a rather unexpected arrangement, he suggested that his mother move in with us, which seemed practical at the time. His mom is genuinely a sweet lady, always bustling in the kitchen, cooking up our meals, and keeping our clothes clean. However, I'm discovering that her presence is impacting my husband’s autonomy. It feels like she treats him more like a boy than a man, packing his lunches, cleaning up his mealtime messes, and even doing the dishes he leaves behind on the table. He’s grown accustomed to this, thinking it's perfectly normal to not lift a finger after meals because she’ll handle everything.

There was a brief period when his mom stayed at his brother's for a month, and I saw a different side of my husband—more responsible and independent. But as soon as she returned, the old habits crept back. It’s frustrating to see him revert because it feels like we're back to square one.

The lack of privacy is something else I struggle with. The house feels more like it belongs to my husband and his mother than to me. She dominates the kitchen from early morning till late at night, which pushes me to confine myself mostly to our bedroom when I’m not at work. It doesn’t even feel like my own home, despite the fact that I contribute to the mortgage. They both have a similar style—messy and cluttered—and whenever I try to organize or arrange things, she rearranges them back. She stocks the fridge so much that food often spoils, yet she refuses to get rid of it.

Every time I have tried to discuss these concerns, my husband reminds me to be thankful that his mom cooks and does our laundry. He doesn’t understand that the only reason she’s taken over these chores is that she occupies every inch of the kitchen and laundry area, making me feel unwelcome. His siblings aren’t willing to take her in, so the responsibility falls on us. I crave my own space, not just for my sanity but also for my dogs, who are restricted to our bedroom because my mother-in-law doesn’t like them around. So, am I just stuck here?

Imagine if this situation were featured on a reality TV show. Viewers would probably be divided. Some might sympathize with the mother-in-law, praising her dedication and efforts to look after her son. Others might side with me, arguing that the constant mothering is hindering my husband's growth as an adult and invading our marital space. The tension and dynamics could certainly make for compelling television, sparking debates about boundaries and independence in family settings.

Around seven years ago, my relationship with my ex, Jenna, sadly came to an end. We share two teenage children, and since I was more financially secure, Jenna proposed I take full custody following our split. I've been raising them full-time since then, with Jenna having the option of visitation. However, she seldom exercised this right. Shortly after we went our separate ways, Jenna moved on with a wealthy man from abroad, quickly becoming pregnant with his child. The man, however, was not interested in taking care of children who were not his own, leading Jenna to relocate three hours away, distancing herself further from our kids. For nearly two years, she vanished from their lives.

The wealth of Jenna’s partner was contingent on his family’s support, and after discovering her situation, they withdrew their financial backing. Complicating matters, their young child faced developmental challenges. Jenna was expecting another child when her boyfriend decided to return to his home country, leaving her alone, pregnant, jobless, and caring for their special needs son.

Last week, Jenna reached out in desperation, her circumstances dire. She and her son were living in a motel, and their financial resources were dwindling. She asked if they could stay at my lake house nearby, or alternatively, if I could provide some financial support. I declined both requests, leading to heated exchanges where she accused me of neglecting my extended "family" despite having the means to assist her. I maintained that, biologically speaking, her current predicaments do not obligate me to intervene.

In a scenario where my life was part of a reality show, the reaction from the audience could be intensely divided. Viewers might sympathize with the tough stance I’ve taken, arguing that my responsibility is primarily towards my own household and the children we share. Others might harshly critique my decision, seeing it as lacking compassion towards my ex who is clearly struggling and my indirect connection to her current children. The intensity of reality show fans could turn this domestic drama into a broader debate on responsibilities and moral obligations ex-partners owe to each other, especially when children are involved.

Now, reflecting on my story as part of an online community seeking advice or shared experiences, I’m curious to get your points of view...

I love this guy so much. I love him so much that I wish he would understand that it's torture to be left in the dark about how he feels. We got into a situation where I was honestly being very emotional and hysterical for no good reason. I asked him if he would ever tell me if he had an issue with me or anything that he ever wanted to talk about so that I wouldn't spiral so badly again and he told me that he would never. I was shocked to say the least. It's important for me that there is communication in a relationship and I feel like we have awesome conversations when we are just talking, but we can never sit down and have a conversation about anything important. He internalizes a lot of things and I feel very cautious of what I say around him because he remembers very little comments and brings them up when we fight about anything. I match his energy and I keep things to myself and when I eventually explode and have horrible reactions he either just brushes off my emotions with "ugh men" or he talks about how he could've never known I felt that way and that I should talk instead of keep things to myself, when he is the worst at doing that. He makes me feel like I'm insane or dramatic and he often calls me dramatic, but I don't know if I really am or if I'm normal? We have both had bad experiences with dating in the past, so of course we're gonna have our baggage, but I really want this to work. He recently has talked about moving back to his home state with his mom and how he wants to get a one bedroom apartment and I was afraid that he meant alone and my emotions are clear on my face usually so he saw and he told me that of course he meant with me, but I really feel like I can't trust anything he tells me. He is very good at putting up a facade, it's kind of chilling how he can do that honestly because one day he was talking to an old friend and being very chill and laughing with them and immediately after that he just straight up cut them off entirely. He had reasons why he did that and I understood that he felt uncomfortable with that friend for a long time, but it put a big fear in my heart that I would wake up and he would just be gone one day. How would I even explain that to people? I have been through something similar with an ex that I had in high school where we stopped talking and he broke up with me and blocked me. I feel like this is worse though because I am not even sure if he would TELL me before just straight up blocking me.

that feeling of burnout. have you ever felt that? that state wherein you are constantly being pushed and pulled away by sadness and happiness. it’s weighing up on me. i don’t think i can make it in the long run :)

She used to be outgoing, growing her confidence with dresses and feminine clothing again and taking me out places with her.. she even did her makeup again after years without it cause she was feeling herself, even getting her nails done. She even took me out on a girls day just me and her and we had a great time.

Fast forward, she got a boyfriend. Locked in her room 24/7, always on FaceTime or regular call with him, there’s a camera in my moms room now that was put there by her boyfriend.. a whole situation happened where my, my mom, and my grandma all stood at my aunts house for a couple of days because of my moms bf and “safety reasons”.. he was drunk on beer when he introduced me and his daughter, and there’s more but it goes on.

Since they got together I’ve I guess you can say “observed”.. or “eavesdropped” a lot on their conversations since they’re usually loud even on the phone since he’s not allowed at my house (we live with my grandma and she said he’s not allowed). Here are things I’ve picked up that I think are both concerning and childish. For the record I’m 15, turning 16 June 15th of this year.

1 - He constantly accuses my mom of cheating and even assumes there’s a guy with her even if it’s just me and he doesn’t know I’m there

2 - He seems constantly insecure, telling my mom to go to her room and stay in there. She can barely respond to my texts because he’ll assume that my mom is texting another guy even when it’s her own daughter.

3 - He’ll talk to my mom sexually even when I’m around but I sort of assume that’s normal since my mom does the same..

4 - I peeked over my moms shoulder when she was texting at my therapist appointment and the words said “I belong to you” “you own me” because he was assuming my mom was cheating even though we were waiting in the place I go for therapy.. and he said “have fun with him” or something like that and she said “what’s fun about being in mental health”. I feel guilty but I also know it’s not my fault.

5 - This one is connected to the reason I had stood with my aunt over the weekend. She texted her boyfriend saying “I forgave you the first time for choking me”. This was I think a month ago now?? Idk.

Those are only some of the things and here are things about my mother. (She only does this when talking to a guy she’s with)

1 - She’ll tell men she’s on call with if I’m about to get my period or if I’m on my period whenever I mention that I’m cramping or I need pads and taking some of hers..

2 - She’ll make sexual gestures, phrases, jokes, etc around me and I’m not sure if that’s normal or if she’s just comfortable enough around me to do that sort of thing with the guys she’s with or on call with whoever she’s talking to at the time.

3 - She’ll talk to me about her sexual experiences and had told me about it when I was I believe 14? I’m not sure.. it could’ve been just beginning of this year.

4 - She’ll put me in view of the FaceTime knowing I’m uncomfortable with it but just to show her boyfriend that she’s not with another man.

I miss who my mom used to be.. it felt like it was me and her against the world but now it’s like she doesn’t even respond to me unless it’s to unlock the door for her since my aunt changed the lock on my door and didn’t give my mom a key because she chose her boyfriend. I feel like she’s so blinded by the idea of love that it’s suffocating and it’s like she can’t see past that and realize what it’s doing to the family.. choosing your boyfriend just because what he’s a “middle school sweetheart”? Yeah a guy who also “allegedly” put his hands on you, a guy who won’t stop accusing you of cheating, a guy who has you on camera 25/8, a guy who can’t respect your privacy and has you showing your hands so he knows you’re not “texting another guy”, a guy who accuses you of being with another man even when I’m in the room, a guy who you told “I don’t even use my fingers that’s how loyal I am” when I was right beside you in the same room, a guy you told “I only trust you”, a guy who was drunk off of beer when he introduced me and his daughter, a guy you claimed to have broken up with because he accused you of cheating so much and told you to 💀 but then got back together with him because it was a misunderstanding. She won’t even come to my room anymore to see me. She only texts me to open the door for her or when I am around her she’s talking on the phone and not with me. And she always has her phone on the entire room so he doesn’t accuse her of cheating even when I’m visibly uncomfortable.

This is a long rant but I had to get it off my chest..

I'm a 16-year-old guy living at home with my family, which means I'm no stranger to household chores. However, my real passion is cooking, something I've taken to heart over the past three years. While I originally started cooking just for myself, my love for the kitchen didn't go unnoticed by my family, leading them to tack on the responsibility of preparing meals for everyone to my list of chores. Though it started well, I grew frustrated as my family, including my parents and siblings, began bombarding me with incessant critiques.

Every meal became a barrage of complaints: things were too spicy, or not spicy enough; someone wanted rice, another preferred noodles; requests for less meat, more veggies, then no veggies at all. Constructive criticism was rare, replaced mostly by grumbles and discontent. All these demands wore me down, especially when balancing them with schoolwork; I couldn't feasibly accommodate everyone's whims into one dinner. I once tried to establish a weekly meal plan, but the complaints persisted post-meal, never before.

After discussing my struggles, my mother brushed them off, suggesting this thanklessness was part and parcel of cooking for a family—a sentiment echoed by her own experiences. This wasn't comforting, particularly when my cooking was outright disparaged. Feeling unappreciated, I decided to revert to cooking solely for myself, leading to an uproar at home and accusations of disrespect, which culminated in me being grounded.

Imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality show—cameras capturing every eye roll and unwarranted critique from my family, my growing frustration, and finally my bold decision to just cook for myself. The audience would be on the edge of their seats, likely split between rooting for my independence and critiquing me for not meeting my family's varied tastes.

Is it bad that I stopped cooking for my family?

I've been in a constant state of fight or flight, honestly I've been in crisis, since the election. I'm disabled, trans and intersex, other flavors of 'undesirable' in the eyes of the government. I was close to taking my life and writing hotlines pretty much everyday sobbing my eyes out. My psychiatrist said if I refused to be hospitalized (I did) then we were down to Spravato and Electroconvulsive Therapy... Yes, she basically said the only solution was nasal spray ketamine or electroshock. I wish I was joking. I'm allergic to so much that these three things were my only option left. Are my only option, but I'm just done. No. I refuse it all.

There's a decent chance ALL healthcare might be taken away from me soon anyhow.

I decided to give Spravato a try, I was really, really hoping it would work. It didn't. My blood pressure shot up so high I almost had to go to the ER, I couldn't stop panicking and crying, I almost threw up multiple times. I am familiar with dissociation, it's a horrendous feeling I get sadly often, but I can tell the... Cycle of it? I suppose? As in, even when dissociating or having derealization, I can tell when it's at it's worst and when it's staring to wane. With Spravato, not so, it was two hours of being at the worst part of all my dissociative episodes and panic attacks at once with no reprieve. Closing my eyes made it worse, I couldn't even try to sleep to get through it, I had so many nurses coming in and out. A random man who was there also getting Spravato himself came in and tried to talk me and my mother through it and reassure us that sometimes that that even still happened to him. I can remember the talking, but it's more like I'm looking back on a movie I watched, not something I witnessed. All that felt like it was me in that moment was the fear. Nausea. My heart wanting to break through my ribcage, the pain of each heartbeat, rattling in my brain of memories and thoughts both that I couldn't differentiate among other things. It was just too much.

Finally, finally after two hours it started to let up, they took my blood pressure and since it wasn't at a concerning level (it was not normal still but not medically concerning? I think?) I was allowed to come home. I almost threw up multiple times on the ride home.

I was essentially sedated for three or four days after, too tired to tell what I was feeling but knowing I wasn't happy or okay, just too tired to cry or panic anymore. My heart kept beating funny off and on, though, I kept getting chest pain off and on. It's still happening off and on and it's been a few weeks. I'm scared it permanently damaged my heart, I already have so much going on, I can't do it.

All therapeutic effects it had are gone, all the fear and grief and dread and pain are back in full force, my family is trying to convince me to try it again and I refuse. My mother told me, essentially, she liked me better sedated. My pain, my fear for my life under this regime in America with so much being taken away from me (after being attacked just getting groceries two weeks after the election by the way), is an inconvenience so I need to just "be normal."

I can't help but wonder if there's hidden meaning behind "be normal." I could get into the why, I could get into my whole life story leading up to this of medical malpractice, but I won't. It's too much. There's so much I need and want to say but what's even the point?

I suppose I'll end this with something that happened a few days ago that's still hurting me, that was my reason to coming to this site again. I still don't really know how it works, if you can see my other post, but it's pertinent to this if you can. I tried one more time, one more time to reach out to someone to help me, give me help feasible for me with all of my limitations. Admittedly, getting a bit angry, because all the "advice" given even when I explained my situation was things I couldn't do. I tried explaining again, and it was turned back on me. I'm apparently a fascist for saying poor, disabled, non-white and intersex people are being left out of people's consideration when giving queer (especially trans) Americans help or instructions to help themselves. I was apparently posting "fascist bait" and somehow I'm also a Nazi? I don't even know. All I said was that I needed help, I just needed some steps given to me to take to try and get myself safe, to a better place. Then, got frustrated, and said their advice wasn't even advice for me or many others in my situation. It felt like dismissal and a "welp not my problem- figure it out!" and I said so. I said that people need to stop leaving the most vulnerable of the lgbtqia2p community in the dust and this girl got four other people to gang up on me.

I give up. I deleted all social media, I feel hopeless but won't write Trevor or 988, no one wants to help me. No one who can will, because I'm "not valuable" enough. Not to another country, not even to a blue state, nothing at all. I need too much help, have too many targets on my back, and have the nerve to point out that people are pulling the ladder up behind them once they get theirs and seeing certain parts of the community in the dust. Even some trans people are, mainly those of us that are poor and or disabled, intersex and or non-white. Of which I am all of.

And now I sit here alone, sad, thinking about everything and wishing I could close my eyes and wake up anybody else tomorrow. Wake up and find out this was all just a bad dream.

No, I'm not going to do anything to myself, I'm just so tired. If you can see people's past posts on here, again, what I said before sort of gives more context but even with both these two posts it's not everything going on with me.

Goodnight, I guess.

I finalized my divorce from my husband about a year ago. Right after our split, his girlfriend—who had been his affair partner—moved into the house that we'd once called home. I decided to move abroad, leaving behind most belongings, and told him to keep whatever he wished. Honestly, his cheating hardly impacted me anymore; our relationship had fizzled out long before, and the affair simply pushed us to acknowledge it.

Following the divorce and her moving in, we ceased all communication since there was nothing left to discuss. However, out of the blue, a week ago, I received a cheery message from her complimenting the home's style and inquiring about where certain decorations and furnitures were from. I contemplated her message for a day, then responded somewhat sharply, telling her that since she seemed to have everything perfectly arranged, she should also manage to 'figure out' the décor on her own. She questioned what I meant, and I couldn't help but express that since she now had everything that my ex had wanted—which apparently didn't include me—she didn’t need to replicate my style, too.

She replied, claiming she was just trying to be nice and give me a compliment. Right after, my ex texted me, puzzled by the conflict since he thought we'd remained amicable after our split.

Although it's true that we had both moved on from the marriage emotionally, her attempt at stepping into my aesthetic shoes hit a nerve. My friends and family are split on my reaction. Was I wrong to respond the way I did???

Now, imagine this scenario playing out in a reality TV show. Cameras rolling as dramatic music swells, capturing every nuanced expression of shock, hurt, and defiance. It's easy to imagine how the audience would react—likely split, with some empathizing with my need to sever all ties and establish distinct identities, while others might criticize the sharpness in my response, arguing that a simple acknowledgment of the compliment could have sufficed. The allure of reality TV thrives on such conflicts, and surely this exchange would stir up heated discussions across social media, making it a highlight reel moment of the season.

How should I handle ex's GF copying my style?

I've recently been asking myself why -the f*ck- am I so unmotivated? and, quite frankly, it's starting to bug me. I mean, I’m 32, and I feel like I should have it all figured out, yet here I am, stuck in this seemingly endless rut. one thing that always hits me is work. Like, seriously, what’s going on with work nowadays?! Year after year, I've watched as impossible deadlines have consumed my time and energy. It seems that the intensity only increases as I get older. Deadlines??? More like "dead-end lines" if you ask me. The pressure to perform and deliver feels crushing, and to top it all off, there’s this whole AI assistance thing now… It’s like I’ve forgotten how to do my job, and AI is just there to slap me in the face and remind me how inadequate I can feel.

Then there’s the future!!! It’s so uncertain. With AI doing everything these days, where do people like me fit in the grand scheme of things? 🤖 It's hard not to feel overshadowed. I remember when I started working - there was genuine excitement and purpose. But now? All I see are stacks of emails, projects that never seem to truly end, and an endless stream of tasks that just never fail to drain any ounce of enthusiasm I have left. How did we reach a point where human contribution feels diluted? Recently, I read a quote somewhere: "Technology is best when it brings people together." Well, sometimes it feels like technology is best when it sidelines people. 😟

When did AI become the new face of productivity and efficiency? I can’t deny its usefulness, sure, I mean, I’ve saved hours thanks to AI, but I can’t help but to remember a time when people were valued for their skills, not the speed at which they can get things done. I’m not saying I’m against progress, but there’s this nagging feeling that I’m just not cut out for the kind of change that’s happening. Am I wrong to feel this way??? I wonder if anyone else out there feels this looming sense of uncertainty about the future at work…

Sometimes, I think back to when things were simpler. A box of office supplies, a friendly chat with colleagues at the water cooler, and those celebratory Friday afternoons when everyone was excited for the weekend. There was a real sense of camaraderie back then. Nowadays? Everything’s just distant and digital. Is social interaction a thing of the past? 🫰 Maybe it's just one of those slumps that people go through in their lives, I don’t know. But all of this has made me really question not just the future of my career but what fulfillment means to me personally. After all, isn’t it possible that we’re supposed to navigate these transitions and uncertainties with grace and adaptability??? Or maybe, it’s truly time for a career change or a soul-searching sabbatical.