Sometimes I wonder if I am really depressed. I have my good days where Im happy threw out the day and sometimes it last more then just one day but I have other days I feel like I am a failure no matter what I do. I ended up calling my mom one night when I was having a bad day but I wasn't internally going to tell her whats been going on in my head but she heard something in my voice when I was talking to her so when she asked if I was ok..I just lost in and cried for a good hour or so on the phone with her. Ever since then I've felt better. But I can feel the emptiness comming back.
Sometimes i just feel like the most crappiest friend ever, i never know how to comfort or calm people down so in most cases i just stand there like a fucking goldfish. they say that sometimes you dont even need to talk as long as you're there to listen and that may be therapeutic to some people but i can't help but feel so fucking defeated and useless. This morning my friend had a mental breakdown and she was ranting but im shit at talking let alone give good constructive advices so like the fucking goldfish i am i just stood there hugging her not saying anything afraid i'll fuck up and say the wrong things. whispering sweet nothings and constantly reminding her shes not alone will only get her so far, i love her and i hate seeing her like this but if only i can actually TALK would actually be great. I'm not actually trying to make this about me because this confession was actually supposed to be about her but i can't help but be pissed at myself, i'm so angry at the fact that i'm actually fucking useless and i can't do shit about her problems. It's one of my biggest flaws and it's a personal issue that affects my life in general. I've also learnt that i can't properly talk or express myself unless if it's over text cause that way i have time to at least think of a good answer, and it sucks to be me and i realised how fucking 1st world problem and unimportant this all sounds so i'll shut the fuck up
I find the idea of being intimate in a romantic or sexual way with someone really abhorrent.
So like 1/3 of people are on anti-depressants now on my country. I think I know why. Recent article said that over 50% of people between 18 and 35 are single. That is a historical high for all of recorded world history. It's easier to be single these days, but it's not a fun feeling for a social species to feel so alone. Everywhere I look, I see symptoms. Incel rage of men with nothing to live for. Wine Aunt whineing from unmarriageable women. South Korea is offering credited relationship/dating classes in college. We totally need this in America, because there is CLEARLY a problem. Used to be the problem with the American dream was affording a house, now many people can't even find a family at all.
My therapist says that deep down I miss having people in my life. While true I think it's too much trouble trying to make things good with everyone around me.
It annoys me when my boyfriend asks me to go out and get something for him when I could've gotten it the day before while I was already out if he asked. Or when he could easily get it himself. If I'm going out anyway, like to work or grocery shop, just tell me anything you need that we have money for and I'll get it in one trip. Unless it's one of those days where traffic is really stressful, I don't care. I'd rather get it in one go than get some stuff and have to go back out the next day for one thing. Like the other day I was at the grocery store and asked if he wanted any pop. He gets caffeine headaches without it. He said no, didn't want any. Then the next day he asks me to get him some pop. Made me so annoyed, why didn't you say so yesterday?! We didnt get more money between now and then, and you know how you are with a caffeine headache. He got it himself.
I’m going through something... and I feel so alone. My friends... they’re leaving me behind. I can’t catch up to them anymore. If I’m ever mentioned, it’s to pick on my mistakes. I hate how things have become now. I hate how tense everything is. I don’t trust any of my friends now, since they seem to be anything but trustworthy. I can only depend on my family but they wouldn’t understand this... I’m tired. So, so tired.
I kind of had a mental breakdown at my boyfriend's house yesterday. It was the middle of the night and we were in his bed when he asked me about the scratch marks on my hips. He’d asked me about them before several months ago, when he first saw them, and I was too scared to talk about it then. So I told him to ask me another day, and I guess that day was last night. But I froze when he brought it up, the same way I did when he asked me about it for the very first time. He said he needed to know. When I didn’t say anything, he said “Did your mother’s friend do this to you? She did, didn’t she?” and I instantly started hardcore dissociating, like my sense of reality was beginning to slip. He knew. I don’t know how. I never told him. But he knew it was her who was responsible for the scratches on me. He only met my mom’s friend once, but he must’ve seen her nails. She always, since the day I met her up until the last time I saw her, had these horrible, sharp, artificial nails. And yeah, she used to hurt me with them. The memory of what happened next is kind of a blur. I just remember panicking so much that I went numb. I remember getting off his lap, leaving the room, staggering down the stairs, and ending up in the woods behind my boyfriend's house, somehow. I remember him coming out after me, asking me where I was going, telling me to come back. I didn't know what I was doing or how I'd gotten out there. I kind of just wanted to run away as fast as I could because I was so terrified of the conversation that was about to happen, but I didn’t run. So he walked me back to the benches on his back porch, sat me down, and asked me what was wrong. All I was able to tell him was: they used to be worse. The scratches on my hips—they didn't always look like the thin white lines they are today. They used to look like they'd been put there by an animal. They used to feel like it, too. Back then, I was the only boy in my P.E class who changed clothes in the bathroom stalls instead of out in the locker room with everyone else, and I was the only boy in my neighborhood who wore a t-shirt whenever my parents made me to go to the pool. And it was because of this. I couldn’t look at the scratches on my hips without thinking back to how I got them, when she was pinning me down, sinking her horrible, horrible nails into my sides and… well, I’m not gonna say what she did next, but it was awful. I couldn’t look at my own body without wincing. I told him all of this. I told him everything. All my secrets, all the details, all the things I’d been terrified to tell him, it all just spilled out of me. I didn’t even realize I was crying until he wiped my eyes and nose for me. I told him I’m sorry he has to see me like this, and that I hate that I have to burden him with my trauma. Then he pulled me closer to him and quite literally held me until I stopped crying, and he said he never ever wants me to be afraid of talking about these things with him, because nothing I could possibly tell him will make him stop loving me, and that even if he can’t always understand my pain he’s always going to listen to me. He also said "I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault, okay? It's not your that fault this happened to you, and it's not your fault that you couldn't stop her." And that was the first time anyone in real life ever said that to me. I had no idea how badly I needed to hear that. It was two in the morning when we finally went back to bed, and I couldn’t stop looking at his sleeping face and wondering why I was ever so afraid to tell him what happened to me. He’s such a wonderful guy. I had no reason at all to be so worried. But still, it feels strange, knowing that he knows everything now. It feels strange knowing that there’s no more secrets I need to keep from him. I’m not gonna pretend like I’m not embarrassed after I told him all of that, but I’m glad he knows and at least that's all out of the way now.
Some women get so upset just becasue you're not jumping through hoops for her. They put their own pussy on a pedestal. Getting mad for not being able to control your life with her pussy. To me it's kind of hilarious actually and I enjoy letting these women know I'm not that much desperate for it.
I always wonder if the reason I have not had much luck in the dating department is because I'm not exactly the most feminine woman around. I mean, I enjoy being a "girly-girl" from time to time, but very rarely. Mostly, I'm very tomboyish and it makes me think that it might unsettle some people sometimes (not just men, but people in general). Who knows. Maybe I'm just over-thinking it.