Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I love my best friend so much she seriously means the world to me but I just need to vent about something. Since ive met her she’s always been a very negative person. She constantly makes choices she knows she’s going to regret with money and school and men then when those choices bite her in the ass she plays the victim. Nothing is her fault and there’s always something wrong. I’ve never answered the phone and had her tell me something is going good. She used to be part of the family everyone loved her but she drove everyone crazy with her constant negativity and whining that I don’t even want to bring her around my family (That and one of her bad decisions with men was with my cousin). My 21st is coming up and I’m so scared she’s going to ruin it or turn it into a pity party, and if she does I’m scared my family is going to say something to upset her. I’ve been working on myself a lot and I’ve been so much happier lately with what I’ve been doing but talking to her brings me down a lot when all she does is complain. With anyone else on earth o would just simply talk to them but I can’t with her she’s very sensitive and everything is a touchy subject with her. I can be myself around my friends and family and I can with her but there’s many moments where I have to walk around on eggshells. I know I’m complaining about her but I really do love her she’s my best friend and we’ve been through a lot together I just needed to get this out.

I, 14F, live in a household with my dad, 52M, and my little brother, 11M, who suffers from developmental disabilities (one of the types of autism). My sister, 19F, has moved away for university. Both my sister and I agree that getting away from our family by graduating is the best and most pacifistic solution. Growing up, my mom (I don't remember how old she was and is) was both physically and mentally abusive. She left a lot of issues for me to handle. Technically, she is the reason why I hate myself, body and soul, in this day and age. I found myself at 9 years old, begging my dad to divorce my mom, thinking that everything would be over. Guess what? My dad had to see his father dying from COVID-19, and TWO WHOLE MONTHS LATER, after lots of incidents, he filed a restraining order and a divorce. Of course, he had to see his children crying and begging him on their feet to do it. Yeah, of course, I had to see my newly bought clothes by my godmother with scissors because my mom and godmother/aunt were beefing at that time. Of course, my mom had to pull me by the shirt and drag me upstairs because she found me eating at my aunt's when she refused to cook for a whole week. I was just thankful that my mom would go away. Long story short, the court drives weren't amazing. The judges would side with my mom and use false information against us. I was just a kid, and the judge was treating me like a middle-aged criminal. Anyway, people started seeing the truth, and my dad won custody of all three kids. We live in a small village therefore everything is easily shared. Today, my dad is kind of... overprotective. Which eventually becomes unnecessarily annoying and very disturbing. I never actually had a boyfriend until I met Kanye on Instagram. He is three years older than me. I've been rejected twice (to be honest, kind of harshly since the last guy threw my card to someone I hated because they made dirty jokes about me and then said that I'd probably have a chance with the dirty guy instead), and I didn't give much thought because I liked him. We were in a relationship for two and a half months. Until my dad found out and went berserk. He deleted my Instagram accounts and blocked all my apps on my phone through parental control. I eventually broke up with Kanye because my dad threatened to fly to Kanye's home country and file a restraining order against him. I had to break up with the one guy I could talk freely about my situation without being judged and the only guy that loved me for me and not for my talents to brag about. I'm seriously debating life at this point. Kanye kept me alive. Now Kanye has to go. What's left? Nothing. What does my dad do to help? Make everything worse. "I don't have a favorite kid," he says as he suggests that my brother will use MY PHONE to watch YouTube because my brother's phone was out of battery. Yeah, okay, my brother has autism, I respect that. But god damn it. If you're going to use it like that, you're just not cool. I have trouble waking up because even my nightmares are better than this. I can't even pick up my ass to do basic things like shower or eat. But in my dad's mind, I'm just lazy. I don't want to keep living at this point. As my mom once said, "It should have been you instead of my miscarriage the year before your birth". Man, I know, it really should have.

I don’t even know how to start this, but it’s been bothering me for a while now. I keep asking myself, why don’t people like me? Like, what am I doing wrong? I try to be nice to everyone, but it feels like no one really wants to be my friend. And honestly, it’s starting to feel really lonely.

In school, it’s like I’m invisible most of the time. I’ll sit with people during lunch or in class, but I’m never the one they actually talk to. It’s always someone else. When I try to join the conversation, it’s like they don’t even hear me, or they just give me this fake smile and move on. I can’t tell if it’s something I said or if there’s just something about me that makes people not want to hang out with me.

I thought maybe I’m too quiet or awkward, so I tried being more outgoing. Last week, I went to this party that I wasn’t even sure I was invited to (I overheard someone talking about it and decided to just show up). I tried talking to a group of people, but they kept looking at their phones or each other like they were waiting for me to stop talking. One of them even got up and walked away while I was mid-sentence. It was so embarrassing. I ended up leaving early and crying in my car for like an hour.

My mom keeps telling me, “Just be yourself, and the right people will like you.” But what if being myself is the problem? Maybe I’m just boring, or annoying, or too weird for people to care about. I mean, I see other people with their huge friend groups, laughing and posting about all the fun stuff they do together, and I just feel so... left out. It’s like there’s this secret code to making friends, and I didn’t get the memo.

Sometimes, I wonder if people even notice me at all. Like, if I wasn’t there, would they even care? Or would they just go on like nothing happened? And if this was a reality show, what would people think of me? Would they feel bad for me, or would they be laughing at how pathetic I look trying to fit in where I obviously don’t belong? Maybe they’d just fast-forward through my scenes because I’m not “interesting” enough.

I’ve tried to figure out what I’m doing wrong. Maybe it’s the way I talk? Or the fact that I don’t know how to make jokes like other people? Or maybe I come across as too desperate? I don’t even know anymore. I feel like I’m trying so hard to get people to like me, and it’s just making things worse.

It’s not like I haven’t tried making friends. I’ve joined clubs, gone to events, and even reached out to people online. But nothing ever really clicks. People will talk to me for a little while, but then they stop responding or just fade away. I don’t want to seem clingy, so I stop trying, but then I feel even lonelier. It’s like this never-ending cycle that I can’t escape.

I wish I could just stop caring. Like, who needs friends anyway, right? But the truth is, I do care. I want to have people I can talk to, hang out with, and just feel like I matter to someone. But no matter what I do, it feels like I’m stuck on the outside looking in.

If anyone’s reading this and has felt the same way, what did you do? How do you stop feeling like you’re not good enough? Or better yet, how do you get people to like you without feeling like you’re begging for their attention?

And if this really was a reality show, what would people say about me? Would they see someone who’s trying too hard and laugh, or would they actually feel bad for me? Honestly, I don’t even know anymore. I just want to feel like I belong somewhere. Is that really too much to ask?

I don’t know why this bothers me so much but it does. I’ll send her a message at 10:14, something simple like “hey love, how’s your day going? 😊” and I see the two little blue checks almost instantly. She’s online. She read it. And then… nothing. It just sits there. My words floating in space like I’m talking to a wall. Sometimes I scroll back and I see entire blocks of green messages from me, just me, like a full on monologue. “Did you call the plumber?” “Should we book the hotel?” “I was thinking about that thing you said yesterday…” Blue ticks. Silence. It makes me feel kinda stupid, not gonna lie. Like I’m the guy who keeps talking at a party while everyone else walked away 5 minutes ago. And I KNOW she’s busy. She works hard. She gets distracted. But why read it if you’re not going to answer? Why not wait until you can reply? Is it just me or does that feel worse somehow? 😅 I even start overthinking it. Did I say something wrong? Was my tone weird? Is she mad and not telling me? Last week I sent her this long message about how proud I was of her for handling that stressful situation at work, like really heartfelt stuff, and she saw it… and didn’t reply until 5 hours later with “thanks.” Just that. “Thanks.” I stared at that word like it was a riddle. Am I being dramatic? Probably. But when it keeps happening you start to feel invisible. I’ll send her updates about my day too, like “client meeting went well” or “I fixed that leak under the sink finally 💪” and it’s like I’m narrating my life to an audience that doesn’t clap. And yeah, sometimes she answers later, and when she does it’s normal, sweet even. But those gaps, those empty spaces, they mess with my head more than I’d like to admit.

The thing is, I love her. Deeply. She’s not cold, she’s not mean, she’s just… not glued to her phone the way I am. I grew up in this always-online culture where a read receipt feels like a promise of a reply, you know? Like if you open the door, at least say hi. She’s more old-school. She’ll call instead. She’ll talk for an hour and laugh and tell me about everything I texted her about like she stored it somewhere in her brain. And I realize she DID read it. She DID care. She just didn’t type back. Maybe I attach too much meaning to those little blue ticks. Maybe it’s my insecurity speaking. I remember one night I sent her a message saying I was feeling overwhelmed, just mentally drained. She saw it and didn’t reply for a while. I sat there thinking the worst. But when she got home she hugged me so tight and said she wanted to talk about it in person because it mattered. That hit me hard. Maybe silence doesn’t always mean indifference. Maybe sometimes it means “I’ll respond properly later.” I’m trying to change how I see it. Instead of thinking “she doesn’t care,” I’m trying to think “she’s living her life.” And honestly, I don’t want to be the guy who needs constant validation through text bubbles. I want to be secure. I want to trust the bigger picture of our marriage, not panic over one unanswered message. Have you ever felt like this? Like you’re arguing with your own thoughts over something so small but it feels huge in the moment? I’ve started sending fewer rapid-fire messages and instead waiting to talk in the evening. It’s helped. And when she DOES reply quickly, which she sometimes does, it feels like a nice surprise instead of an expectation. I’m not perfect, I still sometimes stare at my phone and think “just type something…” 😅 but I’m learning. Maybe communication isn’t just about speed, maybe it’s about consistency and love over time. And when I look at our life, the way she shows up for me in real ways, not just digital ones, I realize I’m lucky. So yeah, it still stings sometimes when someone sees your message but doesn’t reply… but maybe it’s not the end of the world. Maybe it’s just two different styles trying to meet in the middle. And I’m hopeful we’ll keep figuring it out together ❤️

My boyfriend, Jeff, who's 32, and I, 27, have been in a relationship for over a year now. He had only met my parents once during last year's holidays because they live quite a bit away from us. They decided to visit this past week to see our new apartment and spend more time with Jeff since we recently moved in together.

We have a spare bedroom in our place which Jeff has set up as his gaming sanctuary, but we both agreed it would serve as the guest room whenever we have visitors. Jeff is a big fan of video games and anime; he has this vast collection of figurines and posters from various series.

Among his collection are some items like an anime body pillow with a print of a scantily clad anime girl and a mousepad featuring a voluptuous anime character. I asked him to tidy up the room and put these particular items away before my parents arrived, aiming to make them comfortable. However, I was disappointed to find he hadn’t shifted the pillow or the mousepad.

I’m personally not very keen on those items, but since he's passionate about anime, I haven't made a big deal about it before. Though with my parents visiting, I believed those items weren't suitable for their stay. I discreetly removed the pillowcase and concealed the body pillow in the closet, and hid the mousepad in our bedroom drawer.

Upon their arrival, my parents were shown to their room, and later, Jeff noticed the changes. That night, he addressed the issue, challenging why I hid them. I explained that it was to ensure my parents’ comfort. He was clearly upset and felt that I was embarrassed by his interests in anime, accusing me of reacting like everyone else who had judged him over the years.

The following day, he began packing away his manga books from our living room. He defended his actions by suggesting he was safeguarding me from discomfort. This whole episode has been distressing; he's withdrawn and barely interacts with my folks. They sense something's off and keep questioning me, leaving me grappling with what to explain.

I'm torn; my intent wasn’t to hurt him but to manage the situation thoughtfully. Now, Jeff's feelings are hurt, and it has created a cold tension during what was supposed to be a happy family visit.

If this conflict was a segment on a reality TV show, the reactions would probably be explosively divided. Viewers might side with my protective nature regarding my parents' comfort, while others could argue that I should embrace Jeff's interests openly, regardless of the visit. Reality shows thrive on such drama, often amplifying the emotional stakes with dramatic music and cliffhanger cuts, possibly making the situation appear even more intense than it actually is. I can just imagine the online polls and social media buzz it would generate, questioning the balance between personal interests and respect towards one's partner.

Should I have respected my partner's interests more?

2021. Everyone's locked up inside. Online classes and texts the only way i could spend any sort of time with my friends. So our social studies teacher decided to give us some homework. A group project. yuck.

I got assigned to a group of ppl i hadn't ever spoken to. Except for this one guy. He was this kid who'd joined our school in 5th grade and we'd spoken a couple of times. So we were talking about the project and soon drifted off to other things. We started texting each other every other day and things were fine. Then our school decided it was time to get kids back in their classrooms.

So after nearly half a year of texting i finally got to talk to him in person. Every now and then I'd look over to see what he was doing and well um. Turns out he was already looking at me. He tried to cover up for the fact that he was staring (and failed miserably) and somehow, it gave me butterflies .

That went on for a few weeks and he asked me if I liked anyone. And me being the idiot i am decided i was too scared to tell him bc i was so sure he didnt like me back and told him i liked his best friend (kmn). But thankfully he wasn't that stupid <3.

So just like that, we started dating. Just to give you a picture, he was tall, really cute, played basket ball and loved math (such a nerd). Our love language was basically staring at each other from across the classroom, and drawing infinities on our wrists (those meant more to me than hearts).

Our school was very conservative so holding hands under the desk was the craziest thing we could do. We never got to hug let alone kiss but holding his hand made me feel like i was flying. With most Indian parents, the only high school romance you could have was with your text books so we had to keep it a secret from them too.

Fast forward to valentine's day. Typical day except before leaving he told me to check my bag. I got home to find a pack of Hershey's kisses.

We used to lend each other books to read and slip letters between the pages. It was really cute :'>.

We were happy. I was thoroughly in love with this guy. It felt too good to be true.

And suddenly something broke. He became cold and distant. We didn't speak as much as we used to. I was worried sick and i didn't know how to help. When we finally sat down to have a talk he said it was family stuff that he couldn't talk to me about just yet, and i felt really guilty for not being understanding about his silence. But it had hurt a lot...

Few weeks later. It's sports day at school. He's talking to who i thought was my best friend ( more on that another time). He said he needed to talk so we went to a corner and he was nearly in tears. He started apologizing frantically. I assumed he was apologizing for not talking to me for so long...but it was something much worse.

He said he needed to breakup with me. NEEDED to.

In that moment, everything inside me went numb. I tried to say something but i choked on my own words. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry but there were too many people around. So i walked away.

I swore i wouldn't let myself cry there because i knew if i started i wouldn't stop. So i smiled and smiled and smiled. But I couldn't just leave like that now, could I?

It took everything in me to go back to him on the stairs. He asked me sit. So i asked him why he needed to break up with me and he said he wasn't able to focus on his studies. I was so naive I took his word for it. Only to find out 3 whole years later that the real reason was that it was too much for him. I'd been overwhelming this guy and hadn't even realized. I still don't know what I'd done to make him feel so pressurized....

Even after the break up I did the stupidest things. I hit a rebound with his friend and lied about it. He found out and of course he couldn't forgive me, I carried that guilt around for a year and a half only to realize that it didn't matter anymore. He was happy now. What more could i ask for? (sorry for making it so cheese but it is what it is...<3)

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.

So let me set the scene because it is a bit crazy, and I'm not even sure if I'm the one who's out of line here. I'm a 16-year-old girl, and I come from a Latin American background. I was born and grew up in Costa Rica until I moved at the age of 13. I still speak Spanish fluently, eat Costa Rican cuisine, celebrate all the local festivals, and hold Costa Rican citizenship. However, my parents are from Chinese descent, so yes, I am also Asian. Surprising, I know! But for some, the concept of being both Asian and Latina is hard to grasp.

The confusion heightened during a school event. I’m very passionate about musical theatre, and when my school announced they were staging ‘In the Heights,' which portrays a mainly Latino neighborhood, I was eager to be part of it. I auditioned for the role of Nina but was cast as Vanessa instead. I was super excited about it. But then, there was this girl, Heather, who also wanted Vanessa, and she was furious when I got the role instead.

Heather seemed either not to care to learn about my background or maybe chose to ignore it, but next thing I know, she’s spouting off that I had nabbed a Latina role from a "real" Latina. She ranted about how troubling it was for me, an Asian girl, to fill a role meant for someone with "authentic" Latina roots. As if things weren't bad enough, she started trash-talking me with her buddies, throwing around insults like “stupid Chinese” and “pick me.”

I hit my limit and decided to confront her about it. At first, I tried to calmly clear up that yes, Asian Latinos do exist (ever heard of Costa Rica?). I even mentioned actor Harry Shum Jr. as an example. But she refused to listen. The argument blew up when she kept saying I didn't look the part and that casting me was wrong, likening it to if she were to be cast as Mulan.

I lost my cool.

In the heat of the argument, I threw back that if we're judging by her standards, she shouldn't portray Vanessa since Vanessa isn't supposed to be FAT and UGLY. Yeah, it was harsh. But by then, I was frustrated with trying to get through to someone who had no regard for me or my background. She stormed off after that.

Now she's painting me as the villain, claiming I body-shamed her. I admit, the words were harsh, but was I supposed to sit quietly while she demeaned my heritage and perpetuated racial slurs? It feels like she started this by being so close-minded.

Imagine if this whole incident transpired on a reality show. The cameras capturing every heated exchange and each biting remark. Would the audience side with me, knowing everything, or would they see me as too aggressive, focusing only on the climax of our confrontation? Reality TV tends to twist narratives, so it's intriguing to think about how our story might have been portrayed.

Me and my best mate Mark have been friends since high school, so for over 10 years now. A girl named Sarah joined our friend group and hung out with us quite a bit. I started to like her, but so did he. About a month after we met her, he told me that he liked her. I tried to wingman him while continuing to shut out my emotions as I've done since a very traumatic year that I went through. He continued trying to talk to her without much success for a few months/a year. She went on a trip to America and started to talk a lot with me, and we got to know each other quite well.

At this point, I still emotionally distanced myself from her since I knew he liked her. While she was in America, I got asked out on a date by another girl and suddenly started going through a lot of emotions I hadn't felt in a long time and realized that I actually got butterflies when Sarah talked to me. I started talking to her a lot more and she helped me buy new clothes when she came back from America. I talked to Mark to ask if he was still trying with her, and he said he had mixed feelings.

Me and Sarah made plans to go to the beach today and while we were there, we started talking. I got caught up in the moment and asked her if she would like to try dating. She said yes. Later that night, I wanted to be clear with my friend about what happened and that I was going to start dating Sarah. He got really pissed and hung up, and now I feel like an asshole. I wanted to get an outside opinion on if I actually was an asshole. Sorry for the rant, and I already have an idea of what the answer is but want to know your thoughts.

If I was on a reality show, I wonder how the reaction would be. Would people think I'm a backstabber or just a guy who followed his heart? How would the audience judge this situation?

i used to measure love by uptime. how often he was available. how quickly he responded. how stable the connection felt. back when we were solid, the system had low latency and high trust. lately the signals degrade. he still shows up but with packet loss. conversations drop. affection throttles. i remember one night when i talked about my day and he nodded like a dashboard alert he planned to ignore. i told myself it was just load, just stress. emotional labor can spike during rough sprints. but then the small regressions stacked. fewer check-ins. no curiosity. compliments deprecated without notice. love used to feel like a product in active development. now it feels like maintenance mode. i started logging incidents in my head. when he stopped asking follow-up questions. when dates turned into calendar placeholders. when i felt like a stakeholder instead of a partner. have you ever noticed how silence can be louder than conflict. i did. the absence of friction felt like disengagement. still, i kept hope because hope is a renewable resource if you manage it well.

another sign arrived as scope creep. my needs were reframed as feature requests with no roadmap. he said he loved me but the actions lacked version control. promises rolled back. accountability diffused. once, i asked for reassurance and he responded with efficiency jargon, saying feelings were subjective and hard to quantify; i laughed it off then cried later. intimacy requires bandwidth. his was consumed elsewhere. when affection becomes transactional you feel it in the metrics. hugs with time limits. texts optimized for brevity. sex without aftercare. i remember sitting on the couch thinking about attachment styles and feedback loops. i wondered if i was misreading the data. maybe i was biased. maybe the noise drowned the signal. but my gut kept flagging anomalies. i asked myself a simple question. if this were a service, would i renew. the answer scared me. i still loved him but love without reciprocity is technical debt; it compounds quietly until the system fails. that thought hurt but it also clarified things.

the hopeful part came when i stopped chasing patches and started designing my own architecture. i talked to him honestly, without blame, using plain language. i said i felt unloved. he listened, truly, for a moment. maybe it was too late for us. maybe it was the first step. either way, i learned the signs are not punishments. they are signals. they help you pivot. i began investing in myself. better routines. stronger boundaries. community support. i noticed how my mood stabilized when i stopped overclocking my heart. love should be scalable and resilient. if he couldn’t meet me there, someone else could, including me. i still believe people can reconnect if they commit to refactoring together. i also believe walking away can be an act of love. if you are reading this and nodding, ask yourself what your system needs right now. clarity. rest. courage. whatever you choose, choose with hope.

Me (13) and my brother (11) had an argument. Maybe it's my fault. But let me explain. I just told him I found Hindi overwhelming, and he said his isn't that easy either so I should also know, but I do and I was gonna explain to him how hard mine is. Then I was shooing away a fly, and this is one of the many things about me I hate, it's that I really don't like flies and their sound and all that and makes me go nuts. So in the lift, he asked me why I hated and overreacted to flies so much, I didn't wanna talk about it and I thought we were going off-topic, but he then said he didn't care angrily. Then we started arguing that he should leave me, then he said he shouldn't even when I COULD potentially become the worst sister ever, he never listened to dad saying to LEAVE family members who hurt you on a visceral level, and I feel as if I did. Next thing you know, he says it's OKAY for Indian families to have lots of beatings, even though OUR PARENTS don't like it and now they rarely do it and feel great remorse when doing it (my dad even admits when he has flaws and he gets somewhat better at handling them), while I'm "glamorizing" an "American movie idea". Then we started arguing about how even though he has many friends he doesn't know that if friends don't wanna speak about something they shouldn't pressure them to, he said I don't even have friends, and we did name-calling and swearing, and in another lift alone together, he called me psychopath, I called him child murderer and pedophile, and at home now, he treats me like I'm a stupid crazy hysteric lady on an 8 ft restraining order. It's my fault this happened. It's my fault for not calmly telling him he's going very off-topic. See? Failure on my part. Failure never equals improvement.

Man, why doesn't he get it? I know I have no friends, but why doesn't he get it? Why doesn't he know with 6 friends, if they don't wanna talk about something, no matter how stupid, you don't! One thing I learnt when I overshare my interests with people NOT interested! Not everyone wants to speak about gemstones! But, maybe that's why I don't have friends.

We spoke to mom, I explained this to her, he said he wanted to stay away from me since I've gone crazy, she sounded exhausted on the phone, and right now, I hate myself. I feel like an abusive sister. My brother will assume these things for life, he's done this for a long time. Mom came, and she spoke to us that we shouldn't call each other names OR ELSE, and that if the argument or conversation goes in a nasty direction, either one of us stays quiet. I asked her what if my brother will think I'm weak or I can't clap back at him, and mom said she does this with dad to avoid getting nasty if things go south, and she said I shouldn't think for others. The reason I hate it when people say that is because it is my job to think what others think, otherwise I'm gonna grow up to be a criminal. She even told me I'm not abusive. I am, considering I called him nasty things and after some time, he acted like nothing happened.

Why doesn't he know it yet? That if I don't wanna speak about flies since I find my disgust and overwhelm stupid, why was he pushing me? My fear is stupid. Even though their sound drives me nuts and makes me feel like vomiting or peeing, it's stupid. He even got very off-topic when he kept asking me that, when we were talking about Hindi studies. Dude, even dad tells you not to go astray, yet because he isn't here for now, he didn't do it. And when I asked my brother, he really had no idea what he did could've been a sign he's not really a friend-friend, even though him and friends have no seriousness at all. My dad's right, he really cannot think AT ALL, only cook up smart answers and score good marks, and even he failed months ago in most of his tests! Guy really can't think about anything, what food he wants (actually, he can't adjust to what foods adults don't wanna give him and he is very stubborn and whiny), motor functions (his writing makes even doctors confused) because bro's only good at piano but not anything else involving his hands, he can't understand social nuance in that sense, and somehow, even with 6 FRIENDS, he doesn't know that lesson of "Not to Push People Into Talking About Uncomfortable Things is Wrong and Weird" yet! Bro really has the thinking capacity of a potato. He sounds smart and looks cute, but really he's not that impressive. Sure he's good at piano, but actually using his hands is like expecting a Snorlax to do a backflip. Another thing is, he can actually make me think I'm the big issue, until someone like my parents snaps me out of it and shows that what he also did wasn't great either. Homie cannot think at all.

i dont even kno why i keep tryin. like, at this point, i should just accept it—im a failure. 27 years old, nothin to show for it. no degree, no career, no apartment, no gf, not even a decent group of friends. i look around and see people my age getting married, buying houses, moving forward. and me? im back in my childhood bedroom, surrounded by old posters and dust, feelin like im 15 again, except now theres no excuses. back then, people said "you have time, you'll figure it out" but now, now they just avoid the subject. my parents don’t even ask about my future anymore, they just look at me like i’m a lost cause. and honestly? maybe they’re right.

i tried, man. i really tried. i went to college, failed out. switched majors, failed again. tried a trade school, couldn’t keep up. then i thought maybe i could do somthin with my hands, construction, mechanics, whatever, but i sucked at that too. everyone always says "just find your passion" but what if i dont have one?? what if im just bad at everything? no matter what i start, it falls apart. and it’s not just school, it’s life in general. i never had a real girlfriend, never had that "group of bros" everyone talks about. people just drift away, like im forgettable, like im not worth stayin friends with. nd after a while, i stopped tryin to make new ones bc whats the point?? every time i meet people, they’re just temporary. no one stays.

and now im stuck here, in this house, in this town, with nothin to my name. i cant afford my own place, cant even hold a job for long before messin it up. i see my parents whisperin sometimes, like they don’t wanna say it out loud but i kno theyre thinking it—what the hell happened to our son? nd i dont even have an answer for them. im just stuck. trapped in my own uselessness. nd the worst part? i want to do better. i wanna be the guy who moves out, gets a job, gets a life. but every time i try, i fail. and at some point, it just breaks you, u kno? like, how many times can someone start over before they realize theres nothin left to start??

i wake up every day feeling like whats the point. not in a dramatic way, not like im gonna do somthin crazy, but just in a numb way. like, im just existin. breathing, eating, sleeping, repeat. no goals, no future, just surviving because my body still works. nd i kno people will say "just keep going" but goin where?? i got nowhere to go. nd every time i try, the universe slaps me back down like nah bro, this ain’t for you.

maybe some people are just not meant to make it. maybe not everyone has some "hidden potential" waiting to be unlocked. maybe some of us are just... failures. bc thats what i am. no dreams, no direction, just some loser takin up space in a house thats not even mine. nd i dont kno if thatll ever change.

My husband, Alex, and I, both in our early 30s, have been navigating marital waters for several years now, holding hands for over a decade. Throughout our relationship, we've encountered rough seas, particularly because of my in-laws' behavior, with my mother-in-law (MIL) at the helm of our troubles. She has exhibited a pattern of control and intrusion, not only towards Alex but towards me as well, often manipulating him to try and bend me to her will in matters that frankly don’t involve her. She's been overbearing, outright disrespectful, and quite invasive. Fortunately, outright insults directly to my face are the only trespasses she hasn't committed.

I've repeatedly expressed my frustration to Alex, pleading with him to address the situation more firmly. However, his efforts have been tepid, leaving her behavior unchecked.

For years, I plastered on a smile and kept silent to avoid drama, but the grievances have stacked up so high that I'm constantly on the brink of eruption whenever we visit. I’ve even suggested to Alex that we should minimize our interactions with them for a while, but he insists on maintaining our visits. He's not blind to the toll it takes on me.

On a recent visit, the familiar pattern unfolded. MIL began her usual antics, and I reached my limit. This time, I voiced my objections, challenging every inappropriate and invasive remark she made. Taken aback, she questioned my sudden outspokenness. In a measured but clear tone, fueled by years of pent-up frustration, I confronted her about her continual disrespect. I told her plainly that she was reaping the consequences of her actions, of beds made and now to be lain in.

The atmosphere turned icy, and we soon left. Though I felt a surge of liberation from standing up for myself, the fallout was palpable. Alex seemed torn, MIL incensed. He later admitted he understood my feelings but wished to keep the peace, suggesting I apologize.

I stood my ground, stating that any future reconciliation would require visible change and respectful behavior from her end—that I wouldn't apologize for my outburst as it was neither disrespectful nor unwarranted. I reminded him of the numerous opportunities he had to intervene and that I had warned him no one would like it if I had to take a stand. I had never yelled or insulted her, so the idea of apologizing for my reactions felt absurd.

Imagine if this confrontation had unfolded on a reality TV show. Cameras rolling, capturing every charged word and sharp glance—a spectacle indeed! The drama would undoubtedly be heightened, with viewers on the edge of their seats, perhaps even siding with me or criticizing my outspoken moment. Reality TV thrives on these raw, emotional exchanges, turning personal battles into entertainment. Would the public see me as a villain or a heroine standing her ground?

WARNING: It can be triggering for people with ED, I am not sure tho, sorry this is my first time venting to someone.

I am a 17yo and ever since I remember I hated myself and wanted to lose weight, I was one of the largest girls in class and all my friends were skinny and beautiful. Nobody has ever loved me, called me beautiful etc.. I have been trying to lose weigh since I was 10 I thinks, but I can't, idk why. I hate myself so much, I hate the feeling of my body, I want to cry when I feel my stomach while lying on the bed. I want to feel beautiful but I can't until I lose weight, but I can't lose weight and it's makes me so depressed everyday.

I've been obsessing about this for a long time.

Why? Why are we alive? Why give life when it's easily taken away?

I don't want to die, that's scary. But I know that it's because that I've been given life that I'm scared of it being taken away.

I still have a long way to get there, but sometimes, I think really hard about it and it gives me this ugly feeling in the chest.

I want to believe that there's something beyond death but I just can't do it. How do people not think about their short lives? How can they live not thinking about their inevitable death? Because it gives me pressure, it pressures me to HAVE to leave something on earh, something that proves that I was once alive, something like a big invention, to be famous, inspire people.

Please, someone, anyone, make living forever possible. I don't want to leave my life, I want to stay here, read everything that exists, do everything that it's possible to do. I don't want to leave incomplete, without those I love, without the things I like to do.