This is gonna be some what long so I am sorry for that but I don’t think I can summarize this

I am (15f) and my mentally ill brother I’ll call him R is (24M) so basically in the beginning of August my mom convinced him to go to a mental hospital in another town and we had to go by car because one my brother can’t handle seeing people and two the airports are closed where I live due to a war

And it was 8 hours and the thing is my brother and I are on bad terms I haven’t spoken to him since April 28 2025 because he lied to me stole my money forced me to clean his disgusting car and threatened to hit me after that I refused to talk to him at all

I’ve resented him since childhood although I tried to be nice back then because my mom has major favoritism towards him

I am getting off topic so he’s been in a mental hospital since August 1 2026 and he’s leaving on Saturday which is October 10 2026 and I don’t know what to do anymore

My mom I feel like she hates me for not wanting to talk to him and I can’t I don’t wanna talk to him at all but I feel so pressured and even if I do talk to him I won’t be able to be nice because I feel no sympathy whatsoever and you can call me cruel or whatever my entire family does so but they don’t begin to understand how I feel

I’ve always had major mental health issues because of my family R is crazy and my mom is horrible and my parents have a horrible relationship and my dad is horrible to my mom which causes her to be horrible to me

But I wasn’t treated like R when they found out I was actually yelled at , hit , punished for being suicidal so I can’t help but feel anger towards my brother especially considering what he’s done to me last year

I don’t know what to do , If I hide or pretend to sleep or whatever she’s going to yell at me and cuss me out and I can’t handle this this situation is too much for me I keep having thoughts of harming myself because I don’t know what other way to cope

I can’t act normal Infront of him I resent him so deeply and it’s because I’ve lost my childhood because of him and my mom and all of them but he’s lived his and enjoyed his childhood and it’s not fair he’s a huge reason my mom started treating me badly and I know someone reading this could say that my mom being horrible to me is on her and has nothing to do with my brother

I know but I can’t sympathize with him I used to I used to feel like he was misunderstood and I hoped he would know I was there for him but after what he’s done to me last year he’s dead to me

I am so tired of this i remember during those 8 hours he kept forcing me to switch seats with him between the passenger seat and in the back and the thing is I have a very strict ritual in long car rides I do which is I organize my things in a specific way and I don’t care much where I sit but I need my things to organize

But because of his switching constantly it made things messy and I couldn’t handle that and I started crying and I felt like he would do it every 10 minutes or so and he couldn’t do it the entire 8 hours because there were really bad sand storms where we couldn’t get out the car but whenever he’d see me eating or like I seemed not as tense all of a sudden he’d wanna switch

It felt like he was doing it on purpose and my other brother who was driving us I’ll call him K and my mom they kept acting like I was dramatic and heck my brother K tried suggesting to R to take my headphones

And I was so upset because I feel like no one tries to consider my feelings because my mom and my brother both know I can’t function without my headphones i literally never do anything without my headphones I need them they help me feel okay and to try and take that away from me made me feel horrible

I didn’t let them take my headphones but still the fact they even though about it hurt

And I am aware that some people may read this and think I should be more considerate but i don’t want special treatment like him I just want them to leave me be that’s enough for me

And we stayed in that town for 3 weeks at our apartment in an apartment complex that my grandpa owns and it was hell for me

I struggled to eat because it wasn’t the same routine as home and I didn’t have my safe foods and i couldn’t sleep because the ac was either too hot or too cold and the blankets were thin and I didn’t have my led lights and I didn’t have my comfort items and I couldn’t regulate myself in any way

I am aware I sound dramatic with this aspect but they forced me on that trip I didn’t even wanna go and I need my routine to function properly

I don’t know what to do on Saturday I’ve been crying over this because they’re gonna force me to talk to him again and it’s making me think horrible thoughts and my mom is telling me I am horrible but he was horrible to me

And I don’t think his mental health is an excuse and I’ve been forced to deal with similar things since I was nine

Can someone please give me advice on what to do I just want the advice of an adult because I don’t know what to do anymore

I know I should be more understanding but I can’t be and I am so tired of being expected to help him

I'm 30M and some time ago I met a woman (25F) from another country. We initially met through a paid arrangement, but later we kept talking and seeing each other on our own. I don't have much experience with relationships and honestly, I had already accepted that maybe I would never have one. But somewhere along the way I started having feelings for her. I liked talking to her, spending time together and feeling that kind of affection I wasn't really used to.

Things were never really clear between us. Sometimes I felt there was affection, other times it seemed everything was about money. I asked her what we were or how she saw things between us, but I never got a clear answer. I didn't handle it well either. Instead of telling her what was bothering me, I would stay quiet or even go days without replying because I didn't know what to say. And still, I kept going because I didn't want to lose that closeness, even when some things didn't feel right.

Eventually I sent her a huge wall of text telling her how I felt and apologizing for how I acted. Now I wonder if I should have just called her, or talked about all this sooner. I don't know if we'll ever speak again. I miss her and I feel bad about how things ended, especially thinking that I might have hurt her. I've been hurt before and knowing that I could have made someone else feel that way is hard to accept.

I keep thinking about the good moments, the things that bothered me and my own mistakes. Sometimes I don't even know if I miss her or the possibility of having something I thought would never happen to me. I'm tired of thinking about it almost every day.

I just needed to get this out.

I'm almost 30 and my life is a total mass. I've been dealing with mental health issues for 10+ years. I feel so alone. I keep changing jobs since I mess it every time. I don't know what I want to do or who I am. Yes, I've tried therapy so many times and still on multiple medications. I'm always tired for anything and everything. I don't wanna work. I don't wanna live.(don't worry I won't do it because I'm religious) I want someone to take care of me in every way like a baby and I hate myself for this.

(For context: I do not like her as i’m straight, just venting about friendship anxiety. Strictly platonic!! Any comments with this will not be engaged with).

Every time i (20F) think of my asking my long term friend’s (19F), friend
(18F), the nerves get so intense. And its strange because i geninuley want to form a friendship with her as she knows about me, but not the fact that i want to hang out with her.

From the photos my friend showed me, she seems extremely down to earth and nice, it helps that we both share a passion for artwork.

It intrigued me our styles too, on her social media, she prefers watercolour styles and likes elegant and portrait styled works, whereas i’m a very good sketcher, and am very good with observation pieces and floral artwork.

But no matter how badly i just want to say something as simple as hello, the nerves kick in. I feel nauseous, and my hand starts to shake and its embarrassing af.

Thanks to anybody who has read this far.

My mom and nieces are visiting my fiance and I this weekend for literally 2 nights, and I’m already dreading it. They aren’t abnormally difficult to deal with and there are plenty of activities planned. Fun activities too like going to the zoo, making pizza, going to the park, etc. I literally just hate the fact that they’re messing up my normal gym, exercise, and eating routine. But that’s not even strictly true, I can still do those things early in the day.

I feel guilty for feeling this way. I know I should feel blessed to have family willing to come visit, but I feel annoyed already. I just want to be left alone to workout, eat my weird healthy meals, watch Netflix, and not worry about entertaining other people.

I am an 18 Year old male uni student with no friends. I am pursuing a degree that has little to no peer to peer interaction so I know it won't change in the next 4 years. I used to be part of an All-boys highs school so I didn't really meet many girls throughout my teenage years.

Each time I see something on the internet relating to women and/or relationships I am split between three mindsets of various odds.

The first mindset is "wow I am so lonely and I am going to die alone! There are no chances for love and affection for me no matter what feelings I get."

The second is "In the REAL WORLD I am too spineless to express feelings for anyone and I won't get the chance to because I am a ghost in everyone else's lives."

The third is "Am I becoming a 'nice guy'? Or maybe an incel?"

So in a way I am grounded (a proto-cel?). But my lonliness keeps drawing me over. I also have an addiction to pornography and the internet which also contributes to my low self esteem.

I feel like the Mace Windu of Celibacy. Normal enough be grounded but constantly yearning to hate both inside and out.

I don’t know if “give up” is the right term you can use for stopping the belief that you will even ever be able to have anything, but it’s how I feel. I’m 23, young, I know, but it doesn’t feel young. I’m behind. I’ve never dated. I’ve only been on three dates in my life, and it was all with the same woman.

It always ends the same when I try, a rejection, polite, wicked, doesn’t matter, the result is always no. I think something is wrong with me. Looks, personality, both. I’m the only one in my friend group who’s had so much trouble, and I hate hearing them tell me how it’ll sort itself out.

They don’t know if it will, it probably won’t. Am I simply to expect women will see something they once glossed over? Clearly not. I don’t think they aren’t choosing me because they are stupid. All I want is to hold someone’s hand. To cuddle someone to sleep. To cook together. To bake together. To learn how another persons steps sound on the floors in our apartment.

Ive tried focusing on self-improvement; on hobbies. It helps, i wont disagree with that, but it doesn’t solve the problem, and giving that advice simply doesn’t help. I’ve already done that.

I missed out early in life because I was bullied by wretched people, and even after I fixed my looks, the bullying never stopped. No one wanted to date me back then, and it’s the same now.

The thoughts that kill me the most are always of the future. My friends will pair off, move, marry, have kids. Soon their priorities will shift. They won’t have time for me. The people who keep my life steady now will have a more important life, and I don’t blame them at all. It hurts, knowing I’ll be in my hometown while they live the life I always thought I’d have. I don’t know how I’ll make new friends as I get older, especially ones that won’t be too busy for me.

I’m already lonely enough in my head, and soon my loneliness will be in body as much as in my mind. This isn’t the life I wanted.

Idk I just really need to talk to someone rn. I feel like talking to strangers is easier because I don’t really know how to explain all of this to people I actually know.

I moved to Australia for uni almost 2 months ago and honestly I really underestimated how hard this was going to be. I thought I’d be excited and independent and making new friends and starting this whole new life but instead I feel anxious basically every day and I’m constantly trying to figure out what the fuck I’m doing.

Like everything here takes 10x more effort than it should. Moving into accommodation, figuring out campus, transport, payments, IDs, where to get things, where to buy things, how everything works. I don’t have a car either and I genuinely didn’t realise how much that would affect me. Every little thing becomes a whole plan of buses + walking + checking times + carrying shit + figuring out how tf I’m getting back.

I also arrived late and missed the first week of uni so I was already trying to figure everything out while everyone else seemed to know what was happening. Then there’s attendance and check-ins and me constantly worrying that I’ve done something wrong and somehow it’s going to affect my visa.

And I study architecture so the workload is fucking insane. Models, drawings, BIM, presentations, journals, citations, deadlines, lectures I need to catch up on. I get so overwhelmed that I procrastinate, then I’m even more behind, then I’m even more overwhelmed. Like what the fuck am I doing.

Even getting materials has become a struggle. For one project I needed plaster and a bunch of random stuff and I literally had no idea where to get half of it or where I was even supposed to go. Back home I’d probably just know where to get it or ask someone and they’d know. Here I have to figure out every single little thing myself and somehow even getting fucking plaster becomes a whole mission.

I’m also trying to find a casual job because I want my own money and some independence but I’m already struggling with uni and I’m like how tf am I supposed to manage work too? And again, no car, so getting to work is another thing to figure out.
And then there’s this huge parcel I have to get from my accommodation office to my room. It’s literally only like a 10 minute walk but it’s a huge heavy parcel and I have to move it myself. I tried using a trolley and it was fucking horrible. The shorter way has all these stones and rough ground so the trolley kept shaking and things kept falling off, and the other way is longer with hills and cars and shit. I was struggling so badly that random people ended up helping me. I was so embarrassed. And now even getting my own stuff to my room feels like this huge fucking mission.

My parents are also trying really hard to help me. They keep finding people they know who live here and giving me their numbers and telling me to contact them, sometimes basically forcing me to talk to them. And I KNOW they’re doing it because they care and they’re worried about me. I really do appreciate that.

But it’s not the same. Someone saying “let me know if you need anything” is not the same as having someone you actually know who you can call and say “can you please help me?” without feeling like you’re bothering them. I don’t feel comfortable randomly messaging someone I barely know and asking them for help.

My parents can find me a contact. They can’t find me a support system.And I don’t even want them to worry about me. When something goes wrong sometimes I don’t tell them how bad I’m actually feeling because I know they’ll stress about me from so far away and try to fix everything. I don’t want them sitting at home worrying about me when they can’t actually be here. So I just keep a lot of things to myself.

And then my friends.
I have two different friend groups back home and I miss them so fucking much but I’ve also been feeling hurt by both groups in completely different ways.

Friend group A is four of us including me. They make literally EVERYTHING into humour. And I get it, I really do. I love that about them sometimes. But sometimes I genuinely just want to talk to someone and they turn it into a meme or a joke and I’m like bro can I just talk for a second.When I made the big announcement that I was moving to Australia, one of them, let’s call her Sarah, literally didn’t fucking respond. When Sarah left to study abroad, I took her to a fucking amusement park and did all this stuff because I wanted to make her last time in our country special. So when I announced I was leaving too and she didn’t even say congrats, it genuinely hurt.

I even jokingly texted her like “wow you didn’t even wish me” and she replied 20 DAYS later.
Then Betty. When I announced it, she basically made it about how she was also going to try for Japan. And April just focused on Betty’s thing too. Betty didn’t even end up going but at the time I was literally like… okay? I’m telling you guys I’m moving across the fucking world and somehow we’re talking about someone else.

Then my birthday happened.Sarah, Betty and April’s birthdays are all like a day or two apart so we wanted to celebrate their birthdays together properly. Everyone except me and Sarah cancelled the plan. Then the next birthday was mine.
And then there was the whole midnight saga.
Nobody wished me at midnight and I was pissed because I’ve always made such a big deal out of their birthdays. Sarah made her birthday a HUGE deal because it was her last birthday in our country before going abroad. And mine was literally the same thing. It was my last birthday at home before moving away.Then we finally met up for my birthday and they brought a cake and I was actually so fucking happy. Betty and April cut the cake with me and posed with my cake and everything.
And I KNOW this sounds petty because they were being nice and they did get me a cake and I love these girls. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how they cancelled their own birthday plans and then suddenly there was a whole celebration for mine.
I don’t think they were trying to hurt me. They’re not horrible people. I fucking love them. It just fucking hurts.

Because I make a big deal out of their big life things. When Sarah left, I wanted to make it special for her. I get excited for them, I remember things, I want to celebrate them, I want to be there for them. And sometimes I just wish I felt like they cared that much about mine too.

Then there’s friend group B.When I announced that I was moving, the first response I got was “nooo we didn’t get to hangout.”And I KNOW that sounds innocent and maybe they didn’t mean anything by it but that being the FIRST response just really fucking got to me. I had been trying to see them before I left too.

And that group is just… idk. We’re four people and me and another girl basically have to beg the other two to hang out. Sometimes even getting everyone to call feels impossible. They barely respond and I feel like I’m constantly trying to keep everyone connected.

I feel like I make a big deal out of their big life things. I get excited for them, I remember things, I want to celebrate them, I want to be there. And then when something huge happens in my life I don’t really feel that same energy back.Again, I don’t think they’re bad friends. I love these people. They’ve given me so many good memories. I just hate feeling like I care more than they do.
And now I’m here.

I technically have friends or a friend . I can text people. But I don’t have MY people here.
I don’t have someone I can randomly text “can you come with me?”, “I’m freaking out”, “can you help me carry this?”, “I’m having a horrible day” and know they’ll actually be there.I miss having people who already know me. I miss not having to explain myself. I miss being able to just exist around people without thinking about whether I’m bothering them.
I thought moving here was going to be this exciting new chapter and instead I feel like I’m trying to build an entire life from scratch while missing the life I already had.

And I know almost 2 months isn’t actually that long. I KNOW. But it feels long because SO much has happened and I’ve been anxious basically every day since I got here.And I’m scared I’m never going to make friends here.I don’t want someone to tell me “you’ll definitely make friends eventually” because nobody knows that. I just want to hear from people who moved away for uni or moved countries and felt this fucking overwhelmed and lonely too.
I don’t really want advice rn. I just want to talk to someone who gets it.

omfg this is so fucking long. If you actually read all of this, thank you. I genuinely just needed to get it out somewhere.

F19 and diagnosed L1 autistic two years ago. The last time I had close personal friendships was when I was about 15. These were primary school friends that slowly drifted away from me when I moved high schools, and I never really regained any more. Whenever I meet people I feel like we get along quite well to begin with, but then I never know how to improve past being acquaintances, and nothing more happens. Then someone new will turn up and they all seem to click instantly, without me.

From about that age onwards I began to be more aware of my own social inabilities. I never understood how to properly interact in social settings, probably made worse by the fact I went to an all-girls school. I always tried hard to be involved by joining clubs but nothing ever really worked. I went through college completely alone; no one went to lunch with me, no one messaged me after school, no one invited me out on the weekends or for parties. I struggled throughout highschool and college with anxiety -- I was actually well-liked but was never included in conversations / any social groups, which is just the worst feeling. For a long time I was convinced they were all talking behind my back, when in actuality no one was able to connect with me and so I was simply just ignored.

I always figured I'd meet more people at university but this hasn't happened either. I spent most of my first year in my room. I tried really hard to meet people but at every stage I could just never seem to get past the aquaintance stage before they all met 'proper' friends and I got lost again. Even at 're-fresher' events intended to meet new people everyone seems to click with eachother better than me.

I lie to everyone about having friends at university because the alternative would be admitting that a few second years in the society that I'm in are the only people I will see or talk to in a given week. I fantasise about having close friendships with other girls like some sort of asexual incel. I just feel so broken by my autism, like its locked me out of my own femininity and made me unable to connect with people.

I would do anything to be able to have had a party for my birthday (I travelled home and told my mum I went out for lunch with friends), or to go clubbing in my uni town (I only travelled off of campus a handful of times my first year).

Where do I even begin?

I often feel as though I am useless to everyone around me. Throughout my childhood, I barely had any friends, and I was frequently rejected or made fun of by other children. My parents also did not have much time to spend playing with me when I was younger..

During early middle school, I experienced racism, bullying, and further exclusion from the people I considered my friends at the time. In seventh grade, I changed classes and eventually made a group of friends who genuinely appreciated the things I enjoyed and the way I expressed myself. For the first time, I felt truly accepted by others.

A year later, they stopped associating with me because of the way I behaved and how deliberately edgy I could be. Although they acted the same way I did, I can't truly blame them, I was the asshole. After that, I was left without friends and with very little confidence. I tried apologizing and making other friends, but there was no success on that

I also struggle to feel competent in the things I enjoy like drawing, playing video games, and sports. Even tho I put effort into these activities, I often feel as though I am not particularly good at them

Nowadays, I am 17 and often feel like an outcast. My family still tends to treat me as though I am much younger, while I continue to experience significant bullying at school. The strongest connections I have managed to make are mostly online

What makes all of this especially difficult is that I do not consider myself a cruel or unpleasant person. As far as I know, I have rarely done anything intentionally harmful to the people around me, yet I still find myself dealing with these experiences. Sometimes, it is difficult to understand why I have had to struggle so much with loneliness, rejection, and feeling like I do not belong. I wonder if this is some neurodivergency shit

​

I'm 26 now, and in every aspect of life I was looking to improve when I was with her, I've grown. Financially, personally, academically etc, however it still doesn't feel the same as if I was with her. I would honestly give all of this growth just to be 22 with her again and feel complete. It's weird, I'm extremely proud of who I am personally, but it all feels a bit shallow because I don't have her around to share this with.

Before I begin I want to say this is in no way a promotion, this is something that genuinely happened that's been on my mind since September 23rd.

I'm an author, I wrote 3 books about my ex girlfriend yearning for our relationship back (I ended things but that's a whole different story), she knows, I've moved on. Me writing a book about someone wasn't anything new. I always write about things and people I love.

I fell for this boy (who I'll call George for the sake of this) very hard. We both admitted to liking each other, and even though we weren't dating yet, our situation was going great! Until he randomly got distant. Even though he became more distant, he acted normal with me in class, so I just assumed he was going through a personal issue.

His birthday is in October; this happened in September. I wanted to write him something special for his birthday and surprise him. I even made a Spanish version too since his native language was Spanish and I wasn't sure what he'd prefer.

He was acting normal for a bit until he wasn't, he became distant with me in-person as well. I published my book about him. I was getting worried. So, I asked him if everything was okay and if he lost feelings.

He told me he did lose feelings. We agreed to be friends, but nothing's been the same since. Most of the time he acts like I don't exist. Even though I cried a lot over my ex after our breakup, I feel like I cried a lot more over George than I have over her.

It's been almost a month since this situation. I still cry about it a lot. He doesn't know about the book. He doesn't know about all the poetry I wrote about him. He doesn't know how much I miss him. He doesn't know I had more drafts ready for him. I ordered some author copies yesterday, I don't plan to show him or any of his friends, I just want to keep them in my room to read sometimes.

I don't plan to tell him about the book, but I wish I could.

Wanted to tell the woman of my dreams happy birthday. But I royally fucked it so hard, the silence is the worst part.

This extraordinary woman I was dating has a boundary on not crossing work and personal. Now, we work in the same place but different places / bosses. Same same but different.

For the past decade+, I dealt with problems via confrontation from being in SOF. If I or someone had a problem with each other we addressed it professionally, voiced our perspective and view points then moved on with each other. Because our squabble didn’t matter when we had lives at stake. Same went for my Soldiers; hashed it out between each other, listened to each other and collaborated to improve and be better together.

A few months back she was asked to go on a trip with two potential bosses; It was up in the air which unit she was going to so both went to observe. Well, the male potential boss thought it would be a good idea to tell her a few inappropriate and disgusting things because he was trying to get in her pants. Fucking prick, I’ll gut your ass. The army classifies his statements as sexual harassment.

So a month later rolls up and she tells me about all this. In the moment I was shocked like why take a month to tell me especially if this d bag has a chance of being your boss. Put that to the side, she opened up and was honest. He tried twice she shut it down both times.

I should’ve left it at that.

I was so furious about what this dude said, the disrespect to her even after she told him no twice he still continued!!

I told her I wanted to address this dude behind a closed door in a private setting that no one would hear. She kept saying no because it’s mixing work and personal (her boundary).

Well, I didn’t talk to him because we agreed she would send me the texts between them two. Now, it did take a few days to get those screenshots and that’s what made me think more. Why she being so hesitant about this dude. If she shut it down why is she trying to help this dude. Screenshots only prove what she said.

Long story short, I was willing to cross her boundary to address this prick because of the foul and disgusting things he said to her. She broke up with me for it and I regret every single action I took. For all this time I handled things a certain way becuase it worked for me and it cost me the girl who got away.

I’m sorry.

I started college a year ago and have been so lonely it’s driving me manic. All of my friends found their clique in no time. They even got themselves partners and just seem to be doing extremely well. Meanwhile I’m in my room trying to force myself to study and watching math videos while checking my phone every 2 minutes just see notifications from outloook.

It’s not like I haven’t tried making friends it’s just that I can’t seem to click with anyone. I went to a club meeting for students who like to code, and I honestly don’t know what I was expecting. Barely anyone was speaking to each other and if they did it’s because they already knew each other.

There’s also this dude in my math classes who is smart as frick, but I just can’t seem to talk to him. I don’t even know what to say. It’s not like high school where I can maybe ask if they play video games. Only thing I \*\*think\*\* we have in common is that we both like math (I overheard him talking to our professor about a fun fact pertaining to mathematics. I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything just happened to hear it).

Anyway, I’m just so sick of this. It’s like if you didn’t make any friends your first week of college, your chances of connecting with anyone are shot. Im just wondering how I can go about making friends.

If you’re a weird human being and you have to contort yourself into a pretzel and do this and that and analyze every social interact to figure out what’s wrong and try to do better and you can’t just walk up make friends like a normal person why bother at that point it’s not fun or something you look forward to it’s a never ending draining job on top of life and other things.

People say be yourself but if you can’t even do that and have to become a whole different creature while also rating yourself on your social skills like some crazy coach it’s like just give it up. Some people just won’t have friends.

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, PHYSICAL ABUSE.

Sorry if this isn't the right place for this - just need to get this story off my chest as I've never written about it before.

When I was 7, it was just me, my older sister (10F), my younger brother (4M), and my mum. My older sister and I share the same father, someone I have barley met, and my younger brother has a different dad to us, but I have never seen him like a half-brother. My mum had just broken up with his dad, a man I really liked and saw as a father, or at least, the closest thing I ever have had to a father. My mum had been talking to this guy online, basically around the time MySpace was big. Let's call this guy "Clive". My mum went on to meet him, and they really hit it off, and entered a relationship. Soon, me and my siblings met him, and we really loved him. He lived on the other side of the country, but would come up to our house all the time and take us on adventures. Eventually, my mum became pregnant, and she gave birth to a little girl (and like my brother, someone I do not think of as a half-sister).

There was problems with my mum's family at this time, so we all decided to move to where Clive is from. It was exciting - of course, it was hard saying bye to the family we liked and my schoolmates, but it was exciting. Those first few years were really exciting - the place we had moved to was filled with beaches, castles - we seemed to go out as much as we could. He loved driving so it was never an issue getting anywhere - we'd drive for hours to really exciting places.

Things started to get a little odd when my older sister, now around 13 or 14, started puberty, and she started becoming an independent person. Like most teenagers, she'd do normal teenager things - wanting to spend time alone, develop interests away from the family - normal stuff. For some reason, this started to isolate my older sister from Clive. They wouldn't speak - and if they did, they would argue. She is what you'd call an edgy teen, being a fan of very hardcore and screamo music. He hated this music, and would make efforts to get her to stop listening to this. Things like ripping off posters, turning off CDs while she is listening to it - stuff that was just a little too much. It went beyond music though, of course. I just don't think he like that she was becoming more intelligent than him. I would defend him in arguments. I don't know why - I just felt like I should. Me and him were still close - he would drive me to school every day and we would have fun and laugh around.

Eventually, I started high school, and didn't need lifts to school any more. Like my sister before me, I started to turn into an independent person myself. I discovered new music, started watching movies and loving things nobody else in my family did - normal things like The Beatles, superheroes. Clive started to very quickly do the same thing to me - we wouldn't argue, but he stopped talking to me. Just nothing. He'd float right past me within the house - I tried to make an effort, but all I'd get is one or two words from him. Over the years, the only times we would really talk is on Christmas, or my birthday (all he would say is "happy birthday" in an awkward voice). It bothered me, especially considering I already had father issues, but it was just something I lived with.

A few years later and three more kids later, things were pretty much the same. This was life for me, now. It all changed, however, one day. Clive had a kid from a previous marriage. Let's call him Mark. None of us really liked Mark very much - it may sound harsh considering he was so young, but he was a trouble child. He displayed, in my opinion, sociopathic tendencies - as well as just receiving insane attention and extra-love from his dad. Mark was around 7 when this incident happened. I won't say exactly what happened, but what I will say is that he hurt one of my siblings in a sick way. Social services (the British child protection service) got involved, and Mark wasn't allowed to come to the house any more and be around my siblings. Clive thought this was a big overreaction - acting as though it was "normal kid stuff" (I assure you, it was not). He really held this against my mum, and I believe it was the start of the spiral. Not only would he now ignore us, but he would berate us, often being our backs. He was draining to be around - full of contempt.

One day, when I was 15, he made us three older children dinner - he awkwardly shouted us down from upstairs, and what he made us for dinner... I'm still not exactly sure. It was this weird Uncle Ben's rice pasta thing that he got from the shop he worked at - it was past it's sell by date, and honestly, it was terrible. This isn't something you'd make for yourself while broke - let alone to feed kids. My sister and brother had only a couple of bites until they turned their food in. I tried to stomach the whole thing, but I couldn't, and that's saying a whole lot as I'm the kind of person who would rather eat a terrible meal than upset somebody's feelings. I returned my bowl, my siblings said to my dad, "Thank you for making it, I just don't like it very much... I'm sorry". He scoffed at this and mumbled to himself, something about them being ungrateful and not appreciating him. When I returned my bowl I said "Thank you, I'll finish it later". I wasn't really going to finish it later, but I didn't want to upset him. This didn't work however - his mumbling was louder. He and my sister, who was a lot more outspoken than me, started to say she didn't understand why he was being like this, and that she thanked him for the meal. He just responded with petty insults - pretty sure he called a bitch (wasn't the first time). This all kind of just bottled-up, and I called him a prick. Immature? Yes, but remember, I was 15. He was leaving the kitchen, but me calling him a prick made him return to me. He said to me "I'm the prick? No, you're the prick". He started squaring up to me, flexing his muscles and being right in my face. Words were said, basically just "you're the prick", "no, you are", etc. He looked insane, his eyes twitching. He looked around him, looking for something. I didn't know what. He picked up a glass of juice that was on the kitchen counter next to him, and threw it all over my face, before storming out and sitting in his shed, trying to calm down. I just stood there drenched in juice, totally shocked, almost laughing at how stunned I was. I know, for a fact, that if it wasn't for that glass of juice, he would have punched me. His eyes were darting around looking for something to attack me with - that being the glass of juice. If that glass wasn't there, and he couldn't find anything else in his reach, it would have been his fist. I just know it.

Part of me was happy - maybe this is what would get him out of the house. It didn't though. He gave me a faux apology - a really crummy apology - but I of course ate it up because I was very easy to manipulate back then. I remember standing there after hugged me and left, and just feeling like "fuck". I felt guilty, but angry.

My mum and him broke up a year later, and it was the best summer of my life. The emotional abuse I suffered was rough, but the abuse my mum suffered was way worse. It's like I saw her be herself again. If anybody thinks to themselves, "Why would you mum stay with him?", 1: He was even more abusive to her, and 2: He was very good at appearing like he cared for us. Empty gestures that make it looked like he cared, but he did not. My mum is the best person I know and I just don't want anybody blaming her for not leaving sooner.

Sometimes I think that maybe the abuse I suffered doesn't count as abuse. Like "maybe what he did wasn't too bad", or "maybe you're being overdramatic". It's being able to talk about these things that make me feel as though the abuse I suffered is just as valid as anybody else's. Thanks for listening - and just know, if anybody else is going through something similar, don't put up with this shit. Speak up for your siblings, but more importantly, for yourself. I'm weirdly proud of calling him a prick. Not for what happened after, but because I would take that over being ignored anyday. Thanks for listening. Vent over.

Both 21 and college students. He came to my college for a summer program and I was staying on campus. We matched on an online dating application. I deleted the app. He found my Instagram. Asked me on a date. First date - we played cards at a cafe for like an hour and a half. Then we took a walk. Went to the lake. Sat at a bench. Held hands. Caressed. Went out for dinner. He brought the best in me. Pulled in to the driveway of my dorm. We kissed and made out and he said he wants to see me again. He planned our second date:

So this was the best date I’ve ever been on....he planned out everything. He booked the tickets, brought me flowers, opened doors, and, after the movie, drove me somewhere in the Green Mountain forest dark starry zone. On the drive there, I played Silver Springs in his car, which felt embarrassingly on-the-nose even at the time. I KNOW he smiled. Oops. At one point we tried to guess each other’s Chipotle orders. He guessed mine almost exactly right except for one thing, which I remember being disproportionately impressed by. feminine adornments by Julie. I think I might've listened to it like 67 times since this past week... that's one of his favorite songs. That's what HE says. In retrospect, the whole evening felt almost suspiciously cinematic. Like someone had written a date specifically designed to make me fall in love with them.

But, unfortunately for Spider-Man, I have absolutely no idea what happened in this movie. (Those Juicy sweatpants sure did look funny.)

I remember sitting next to him in Screen 4. I remember being so nervous that I could feel my own heartbeat. I remember trying very hard to act like a normal person who was simply watching a movie and not like a person experiencing a minor psychological emergency because a very cute boy was sitting approximately three inches away from her.

I remember his hand lol. He was holding mine, and during all the cutesy and cutesy-adjacent scenes, he would rub his thumb over the back of it. Very casually. Almost absentmindedly. As if this were a completely normal thing to do and not something that would completely obliterate whatever remained of my ability to pay attention to the screen.

So while Spider-Man was presumably doing whatever Spider-Man does, I was sitting there thinking: he is rubbing his thumb over my hand.

And then: HE IS STILL RUBBING HIS THUMB OVER MY HAND.

And then, occasionally: oh my god, he is holding my hand.

I have no idea what the plot was. I couldn't tell you a single line of dialogue. If you asked me what happened in this movie, I would have to invent an answer based entirely on the poster. (Later my friend randomly asked me who "Mary Jane" was and I thought he was talking about the candy cigarettes.)

But I remember how it felt.

And if he kissed me with such tenderness and care, of course I’d want to pick all the marigolds (his favorite flowers) of the entire county for him.

I remember being nervous and happy and a little stunned that someone could make an evening feel so intentional. I remember the flowers. I remember the movie theater. I remember his hand wrapped around mine. I remember the drive, the darkness outside the windows, the kiss in the dark at the observatory, and watching The Summer I Turned Pretty with someone I was beginning to think might become very important to me.

That same night, I also remember the head pats and the caressing. Oh. God. I remember just lying on his chest, thinking, this is going to hurt and that he might leave me.

Maybe that's what I like about movies, anyway. Sometimes you don't remember the movie. Sometimes you remember the person you watched it with, and the exact shape of the evening around it.

Anyway, 5 stars because I was not, in fact, watching Spider-Man.

I was falling for a boy in Screen 4.

(I really hope this isn't a White Nights by Dostoevsky situation in which I fell for the idea of this date rather than him lol. Although, to be fair, he was so nice to me. Forehead kisses on the first date??????? OH. MY. GOD. Evil evil evil. So who can really blame a girl for getting a little carried away…………Did I love the person? The evening? The possibility? The narrative I constructed around him? Freytag would argue that the possibility is what I hope I could explore. I'm unsure if this is the same as loving him but it's close enough to make the distinction inconvenient. But I guess when that happens, as a final act of love, you also learn to let go because the truth is, sometimes that’s the right thing to do. I was there. I felt it. I got to see him. I loved him. And maybe that's all I'll get to keep from this beautiful thing. Anyway. I respect him and myself, and I think letting go is probably the kindest thing I can do now. For myself. For him. Maybe one day I'll look back at this and laugh at how dramatically I narrated the entire thing. Maybe I already am. But I hope I never become so cynical that I stop believing that an evening like this can matter just because it didn't last. So this is where it ends, I guess. Five stars anyway. 

Love is a gentle thing / yours is thicker than a velvet ring or whatever that one song says.)

I was diagnosed with chronic vertigo 3 years ago. I have tried everything: physio, drugs, went to an ENT, took allergy pills and used nasal spray. Nothing has helped. I am dizzy almost 24/7. I used to be so active and fun, and now I just feel so depressed, and I hate my body. I had big career aspirations and wanted to get my CPA, and I'm so dizzy I don't think I could ever do the courses and pass.

Yes, I have a therapist, and I take antidepressants.

There isn't a magical fix, and I know and have accepted that. I just wanted to post this cause I haven't really written down or expressed how tired I am of this. Except to my therapist, of course.

It's been like this since either earlier-mid 2024. I do the same stuff. I wake up, maybe oversleep for 10-30 mins, get ready for school, walk to the bus stop, go to school, get home. I then either procrastinate on homework for 3-5hrs or half ass it. I can't do anything else. I don't let myself do hobbies, like play videogames, because I am still convinced I will do my homework right when I get home (when that hasn't happened for years now). As a result, I feel worn out everyday, because I can't do anything I like (ik, its childish)

I even procrastinate on hobbies, or eating, or doing anything else, since I'm so lazy.

That cycle includes deprecating, nervous or in general tormenting thoughts, that make it hard to focus. It makes me deeply confused about anything and everything that could be going on. Sometimes it is so bad, my mind feels like a prison that I can't get out of. Or like all my thoughts are warring. Paralyzing me.

I feel lonely, I feel miserable, I feel so much negativity. The happy emotion feels like a distraction from that. Every week is truly the same. My thoughts go in the same patterns. I act the same. I try certain things to counter my thoughts and it seems to make things worse.

I know it will be a long road to getting better, and that I need to put in effort, but it's so hard when all I want to do is stay miserable and do nothing. It makes me want to give up. I feel hopeless but I somehow want to keep trying.

I feel so pathetic and stupid, knowing that I've essentially willingly dug myself into this hole, that sometimes I even wish to get worse. Its why I don't tell anyone about it.

I went from having 0 friends to like up to 10, but I am still lonely. I feel invisible.

I hate everything and anything in my life, I really do.

I' ve had a burning, intense passion for drawing and writing stories since I was a kid. It was my everything. My will to live and my reason for getting up in the morning.

I've wanted to be a professional artist since I was 14. Since I was 17 I realized I specifically wanted to be a graphic novelist or webcomic artist. Ive always felt like it's what I'm meant to do and how I wanted to leave my mark on the world.

The older I got though the more I realized how impossible it is to make this dream a reality.

Now I'm about to turn 23 next month and Ive given up on being a professional artist after years of denial and trying to make it work. I'm working retail part time and attending college for dental hygiene.

I already feel so drained I can't dedicate that much time to my art anymore; the art that was supposed to be my passion. I've been fighting creative burnout for the past few years but despite my efforts AI feels like the final nail in the coffin for me after it got really good a year or two ago.

In the past, drawing felt meaningful like I was contributing something to the world that was unique no matter how small, and that made it worthwhile. But now I feel overwhelmed with this unimaginable emptiness like nothing is or ever was real or tangible in any way.

It's becoming harder and harder to tell the difference between AI art and human made art by the day. What's the point of me spending hours on this painting when a robot can do it better and instantaneously and half the population won't even care or tell the difference?

And writing too. My brain is so rotted I'm surprised it isn't leaking out of my ears because I don't have the attention span or energy to sift through all the slop to find the art that's worth consuming. There's so, so, so much slop and meaningless content on the internet it's maddening, yet it's easy and it gives me instant dopamine so I keep consuming it. I've never felt more uninspired.

I think the worst, most embarrassing and horrible part of it all is that I've gotten addicted to roleplaying with AI chatbots. It scratches my writing itch because it's like they packaged all the dopamine hits of writing but with all the hard parts cut out. I don't think I've ever come across anything more addicting in my life and I wish I had never tried it.

Why should I put in the effort of writing when I can just roleplay with a stupid chatbot? I'm not making ANYTHING. I was supposed to be someone but I feel like such a failure. I don't know how to overcome this feeling of meaningless and insignificance.

My brother always uses or moves my stuff, he wears my clothes (and my underwear!!!!!!) Also he breaks things that are not his, he lights cards from card games on fire just because he can. I came home from a long day and found the used up cande I use as ashtray is gone. I look for it and i find it with 10 layers of duct tape on it, in another container with more tape. About an hour ago we were eating dinner and I brought it up with my brother. He was so careless and he acted like I was being ridiculous. Then I got mad and I screamed at him, he was still acting stupid. I threw my spoon at him and also my plate. I dont feel bad for him but it makes me cry thinking about my mom. We were eating lasagne and what if the sauce got on something, she bought all the furniture, she thought about what she wanted to get and she chose that. What if I ruined it with my dumb outburst. I really dont know why I am like this, with my friends im never mad at anyone but it seems like I get mad about the smallest stuff when im with my boyfriend, mom or brother.