My brother is 20 years old and fat person. he shouldn't be eating junk food. and yet every single time my mom goes to the store, she buys him a pint of ice-cream. and almost every time she and he go out somewhere, she buys him fast food. I know this because he always has a drink in his hands from chick-fill-a when he comes home from an outing with her. But I am a skinny girl. I weigh 115 pounds, I'm almost underweight. She never buys me any food. She always gets my brother food from his favorite place, and I'm left with only rice or soup to eat. I think it's unfair. Just now, my mom made a batch of brownies and I was so happy. when I went to the kitchen, I couldn't find the brownies anywhere. I honestly think she gave them all to my brother. a whole batch just for him. how is that right? I don't know what to do. I've told her that this is my point of view, but she's always favored him, so she doesn't care.
Less than a week, I'll have a midterm. I hope I can face it well. Wish me luck😊
i want a hug right now
well, I don't know any better way to explain it so ill just say it. I used to walk naked in front of my sliding doors so my next door neighbor who was 15 could see me. I don't know exactly why I did it, I guess because he didn't really have any friends but I didn't it more than a few times
i was sad and down yesterday. i hate it. but im glad that there also some people who living like me so i wont feel alone. and i dont get it why people around me can live their life so damn fine while im trying so hard to at least not cry in a day. i ever tried to tell my friends about what ive been through and stuff but they didnt understand. i really hope today can end well. good luck for us today, lets start our day and eat delicious meals. lets make ourselves happy although for me today is not such a good day ;(
I've been working retail for 4 years now, and I'm freaking, because I feel it's making me gradually more prejudiced against some races. And I hate it because I'm a minority myself. But some specific races keep doing the same rude shit and and inconsiderate insulting behavior and it's making me bitter and slightly uncomfortable whenever people from those races are around or near me.
i wanna have friends. i do have friends but still i feel alone, and im afraid to be in friendship thingy knowing everyone come and go and that always happen when i just accept them as my close friends. and i also dont have a boyf yet i feel so empty. i have no interest in my college things also ewh im tired
Buyers remorse is so lame. So I bought Sekiro, got stuck on the first real boss, and posted it on eBay. It really is as hard as they say. I want it gone. It's sitting there in a package waiting for a buyer. Mocking my poor choice. I literally had a nightmare about it last night. Not the plot of the game, the literal disc. Sitting their as a testament to my inability to make good purchases. Best case scenario, I'm out net $10. I'm such an idiot.
I'm not going to wear clothes. I'm living my life naked. Completely naked.
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.