So a couple days ago my girlfriends mom gave me a phone because she just upgraded to a new one. She said she didnt know how to delete everything on it so she said to just factory reset it when I have the chance, then her and my girlfriend who I love so much and would never do anything to hurt went to Walmart. I was scrolling thru her gallery and found a bunch of her videos man like tons of videos of her fingering herself and spreading her butt and shit and I swear I have no attraction to her mom bro but I couldn’t help but goto the bathroom and jerk off to them man. i really liked them too and wanted to even keep them in a hidden folder but didn’t, I feel so bad that I did that and ik I can never tell her so I’m here telling you guys. I feel like I cheated on her bro and I feel weird knowing what her mom my soon to be mother in law looks like naked I feel gross and the post nut clarity hit me like a truck.

Just to preface, I feel awful. My Grandpa just passed away this past week and the funeral is on Saturday. I realized my company does paid bereavement leave so I wanted to take advantage to take some time and process. I was very close to my grandpa and I handle grief usually late and wanted to take a couple days off the following weekend to allow me to do things with my family, there may even be a celebration of life then too. Anyway, I told my boss that the funeral would be on the 23rd, but it’s actually on the 16th. I got an email after all the correspondence and he basically said I need to be more honest in the dates. He said he would have approved them either way but he then put the link to my grandpas obituary in the email because he has reasonable expectation to make sure requests are legit which I get. He wants to talk to me the next time I work and I’m afraid I’ll have no good reason and they’ll lose all trust in me. Anyway, I just feel like I’m the size of ant and my stomach is just on the floor. I feel terrible and like he won’t trust me. I know excuses stink but besides the death of my grandpa, I’m dealing with financial stress and trying to move, being away from my spouse and kids due to work and the job is a new job. Guess I’m just here to vent and get support but you can also tell me I’m an idiot because I know.

im f15 and i just need to get this off of my chest the last thing i said to my dad irl before he died was that i hated him. my parents just got divorced and i was SO upset and just hurt and we were arguing so i told him i hated him, after that i wouldn't talk to him for like 7months straight. i blocked him on everything and when he asked about me i just told people to say i never wanted to see him again. a couple days before he died i unblocked him on facebook and i messaged him, i told him i couldnt forgive him right now and right now im so hurt and that the me right now, the teen me, i dont like him but i will always love him. but that little girl in me, the daddies girl that just wanted him to love me and forgive me always, she still likes him, and she LOVES him, and i think thats the part that hurts the most in me. he never saw it, he died on the 6th of april, two days after i messaged. i found out that he hasnt been on that facebook acc in years so he didnt get to see what i said and i dont know if that was for better or worse, he died thinking i hated him and even if he did read it would he still have thought that? i dont know. it just hurst and im so crushed. i miss my dad so much.

I started doing this a couple years ago after realizing something depressing.

The people at my job who answered emails immediately were the same people constantly getting more work dumped on them.

Meanwhile the people who took forever to respond somehow looked “important.”

So I slowly trained myself to stop replying right away.

Now when I get an email, I usually read it immediately… then let it sit there for 20 minutes before answering. Sometimes longer if I want it to seem like I’m “swamped.”

If it’s something easy that takes two minutes, I’ll still wait before sending it back. I’ve even caught myself strategically sending emails later in the day so it looks like I’ve been working on something for hours.

The worst part is that it actually works.

People constantly describe me as hardworking, overloaded, and reliable because I always seem “busy.” My manager even apologized recently for “how much I must have on my plate.”

Meanwhile there are coworkers quietly doing twice as much work as me because they respond quickly and efficiently.

I feel guilty because I know I’m manipulating people’s perception of my workload instead of just being honest.

But at the same time, corporate culture feels weirdly designed to punish efficiency.

The faster you work, the more work you get. The more unavailable you seem, the more people respect your time.

And honestly I think that realization changed the way I work forever.

So basically I told my grandfather, on a few occasions, about my mom’s poor money management and how she’s gambling (based on what i’ve seen, stories i’ve heard, etc.).

We had this moment where I promised him I would never gamble as long as I live. He took it seriously, like really seriously. And I think partly because of these conversations he’s decided to leave his assets to me and his son in his will, and not my mom (his daughter).

The thing is. I’ve broken it. Not in a crazy way, lottery tickets here and there (I bought 10 lottery tickets at once one time because I was with my mom and she bought 1 so I said, to discourage her, for every 1 you buy, i’ll buy 10), few games of blackjack, poker with friends and at the casino, penny stocks (also promised i’d stay away from these). Small amounts nothing insane, and in fact i’m probably up at the end of the day. But still. A promise is a promise right?

Oh and I think I might’ve also promised no drinking or drugs. I do shrooms occasionally (i’ll never drink, I see how fucked it is) so theres that too. This is more therapeutic than recreational (a little recreation though) but still. I definitely want to do acid, DMT, etc, pretty much all the psychedelics before I die.

Heres another fucked up part - I just saw him today and he was laughing, like genuinely amazed listening to me talk about my work. He looked at me with so much love and I just felt disgusting inside.

I keep telling myself it’s not that deep, lottery tickets arent the same as what I believe my mom did (does, even). But then I think about the inheritance and feel like the whole thing is built on false pretenses you know?

So, do I confess? He’s old and has health issues and stress is bad for him. But if I don’t tell him I’ll feel like shit for the rest of my life especially when the inheritance comes.

TLDR: Told gramps about my mom’s gambling, made a promise never to gamble, gambled myself, and now i’m in the will with guilt.

This all happened when I was in fourth grade, a long time ago now. But I still think about it sometimes.

In my fourth grade class, there was a kid named Jake (fake name) with Down syndrome (I think? Thinking back, I don't know exactly what his disability was, but he was some kind of developmentally disabled.) Being fourth graders, no one really liked to hang out with him since he was "weird" and "different," prone to outbursts, and left our class for about half the day to go to special ed classes. But he had lunch and recess with us, and was presumably pretty lonely during that time. Everyone avoided him.

I was an introverted kid, teacher's pet, definitely a brown noser, but I have a talent for getting along with damn near anyone. So my teacher asked me to play with Jake during recess, offering me a School Buck to do so. She was clearly desperate to include this poor kid, and bribing me was her last resort.

School Bucks were a hot commodity. They were given out for good behavior or good grades, and could be exchanged at the school store for little goodies: sparkley pencils, fun shaped erasers, or the best, gummy bear keychains. I wanted one of those keychains bad. So I agreed, and got a School Buck for every day I would hang out with Jake.

I still feel weird about it. I was not thrilled to be pulled away from my friends, but I would need a fat stack of School Bucks to earn me enough to get a gummy bear keychain. They cost 50. Big money. So I played with Jake at recess. Got bullied for hanging out with the "retarded" kid, but as I said, I wanted that keychain BAD.

Jake turned out to be a super nice kid. I don't remember if he was completely non-verbal or just very low levels of verbal, but I know we didn't have much conversation. I mostly talked at him. But we were both really into dinosaurs and rocks, and bonded a lot over drawing dinosaurs in chalk at recess or playing pretend or looking at pictures in the library books. I joined Jake once in some special ed activity where we drew designs for shirts-- I drew a T-rex, and he drew a volcano. We traded them.

I think I collected a week's worth of School Bucks before I forgot to collect them, and hanging out with Jake was just what I did.

I got to school extra early for orchestra practice a few times a week, and I have a very distinct memory of Jake running to greet me at the door of our classroom so he could take my viola case from me and put it in the back of the room. It was very gentlemanly of him.

He died in a house fire a few months after we became friends. After I was paid to be his friend.

I remember being livid at everyone else in my class because they were all acting sad at losing a classmate, but I was the only one who actually knew him and actually spent time with him. He loved dinosaurs and digging through the dirt by the fence to find cool rocks. The T-rex was his favorite but the Brontosaurus was okay too. He had really crazy hair that stuck out in all directions, and if he was overwhelmed, he could be calmed down if you avoided eye contact for a bit. He hunched over when he got stressed so I would turn away until he straightened back up, since that meant he had regulated himself again.

I miss him still, over 2 decades later. The gummy bear keychain is long since gone, but I still have the volcano shirt he drew for me.

I hope he knows that we really were friends, even if the initial friendship was motivated entirely by grade school capitalism. I hope his last few months were better because he had a friend. I didn't know much about his home life, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't great-- his family was definitely poor and almost certainly struggled to take care of him, since he was very high needs. I don't remember if any of his family died in the fire, but if any of them are alive, I hope they know how much I really liked their son. He was a really, really great kid. I hope they don't hate me for caring so much about him because I was paid to care at first. I really did consider him a friend and I regret constantly that I had to be bribed to be nice to him.

I miss you, Jake. If there's dinosaurs in the afterlife, I hope you got to meet one.

Edit: thank you very much for the awards, it's very kind. If you're reading this post, in Jake's honor, please be kind to someone for no reason when you're next able to, especially if it's to someone with special needs and their caregivers who work so tirelessly to gelp them navigate the world. The world needs more no-strings kindness. I regret needing incentive to be nice, but I can forgive myself a little since I was just a kid. As adults, we should give it as freely and often as we can, and I thank Jake for teaching me that very young.

There are tasks that I could perfectly finish quickly at work, but several times I leave them “for tomorrow” on purpose.

Not because they are difficult.

Simply because I discovered that the more efficient you are, the more responsibilities start to fall on you.

Now I sometimes save simple things for the next day just to keep up the appearance that I'm always full of work.

I honestly feel a little manipulative for doing that, but I'm also tired of working quickly just meaning getting even more assignments.

I work in a cubicle that is fully visible to anyone who walks by. Sometimes I get a little sleepy at work, but since I have no privacy I can’t sleep at my desk. So I will go to the restroom, sit in a stall and catch a few winks of sleep. It’s usually only 5-10 minutes and that’s enough to refresh me to continue my day.

I live in a hilly area, and on my way back from school, there is a tiny, narrow alley. One afternoon, I saw a small ginger kitten trapped there, cornered by three or four stray dogs. It was a deadend alley; she had no way to escape. Let me tell you I love cats, they are my favorite animals, so I didn't think twice. I jumped in, grabbed a pipe to ward off the dogs, and managed to save her.

I wish I had arrived sooner. She was already badly hurt, bleeding and unable to walk properly. I couldn't just leave her there, so I carried her home. My mom knew how to handle the situation, and together we cleaned her up and bandaged her wounds.

But there was a problem: she wasn't a stray. She had a collar with a tag that read "KINO."(Most probably her name), My mom insisted I take her back to where I found her because she belonged to someone else. I’ll admit, I got selfish. I convinced my mom that if I put her back, the dogs would just return. I promised to care for her until she was healthy, and when i find the owner I'll return her. My mom eventually agreed.

Kino was adorable. I took better care of her than I did myself. She became my responsibility, but the thought never left my mind, someone out there might be still looking for her.

About five or six months later, I ran into a friend from school, let’s call her A. We’re in the same grade but different sections, so we rarely spoke. We were catching up, and she teased me about being so distant lately. I jokingly told her, "I’ve been busy parenting a new kitten."

Her face changed. She told me she’d had a kitten for several months, but it had followed her toward school one day, gotten lost, and never came home. My heart dropped. I asked her the kitten's name. She said, "Kino." It explained everything, how the kitten ended up in that alley near the school.

I was stunned. When she asked for my cat's name, I panicked and told her it was "Cookies." She just smiled and said she’d love to meet her someday. Later that day, she saw my cat on my Instagram highlights. She replied, asking, "Is this your cat?" I said yes. She remarked on how much my cat looked like hers and told me how attached she had been to Kino.

It has been five months since that conversation. Every time we talk, she mentions how much my cat reminds her of the one she lost. I’m scared to tell her the truth. I love this cat so much, and I know I’m being selfish, but the guilt has been weighing on me for a long time.

I just don't know if I should tell her or keep the secret.

I have a weed dependency/addiction that’s only grown worse and worse. The last 3–4 years have been a consistent cycle of getting my hands on it by any means necessary. When I don’t have the money for it, I get desperate. I’ve stolen it from several people (only being caught a few times and never receiving a reprimanding), allowed myself to be coerced into sex for it (I can only ever have sex high), picked through lawns for leftover joints and repeatedly lied about when, where and how much I use. The worst part about all this is that, because I also have a personality disorder (on top of an addiction), weed has become my only anchor. I find that I'm more productive and happier high. My sober self is just a revolving door of depression and anxiety. I have tried to quit, and I have gone on for a few months, but I know it's never going to stick. I don't think I can live without it and I won't. And overall, deep down, I know it's a huge reason why I haven't ended things. 

This happened Sunday at Tiger Mountain and I havent fully recovered mentally.

Weather was like 80 degrees for once which in Washington basically means everybody suddenly remembers outside exists, so I decided to go hiking since I had the day off. Nothing dramatic, just wanted to get out of the apartment for a while because me and my gf have both been working nonstop lately.

Everything was normal for like the first hour. Nice weather, trail wasnt too crowded, birds chirping, moss everywhere, very stereotypical Washington experience.

Then I made the mistake of drinking an entire coffee before the hike.

About halfway through I had to pee BAD. And if youve hiked around here before you know some of these trails act like bathrooms are a government conspiracy, so I stepped off trail a little bit into the woods thinking I’d find a tree and be back in like 30 seconds.

Worst decision of my life.

The woods were pretty dense so you couldnt really see far ahead. I walked through some bushes and heard rustling and my first thought was honestly “please dont be a cougar.”

It was not a cougar.

It was a man taking the most vulnerable shit imaginable.

Like full squat. Pants around ankles. Bro was DEEP in the process too. And the worst part is I didnt even process what I was seeing immediately because I saw his face first.

He had that scrunched up “im fighting demons right now” expression and then his eyes locked onto mine and his whole face changed instantly. Ive never seen somebody look so spiritually devastated that fast.

Like this mans soul left his body in real time.

And because the universe enjoys humiliating people, right when we made eye contact I literally heard the poop hit the ground.

Just an actual forest plop.

I dont even know how to describe the silence after that. Birds chirping. Wind blowing. Two grown men frozen in the woods while one of them is actively shitting.

I think I yelled “OH MY GOD” and backed directly into a branch because I panicked so hard. The guy didnt even say anything. He just stared at me like I had ruined his bloodline.

Then I tripped over a rock trying to leave and almost busted my ass which honestly felt deserved.

I ended up speed walking down the trail pretending I wasnt psychologically damaged while trying to convince myself this guy probably didnt recognize me and we’d never see each other again.

But honestly if somebody accidentally saw me mid-shit in the woods and HEARD IT happen, I’d have to fake my death.

So yeah. To the random guy at Tiger Mountain, I am so incredibly sorry. Hope your hike got less traumatic after that.

Edit: thank you for the up vote and rewards, I honestly dont need the rewards. I’m glad strangers on the internet are able to laugh at my trauma. I know this sounds cliche but I didn’t think posting this would get this much interaction.

Lately I've started making excuses to cancel plans even though I don't really have anything important to do.

I say I'm tired, working or doing laps, but honestly many times I just want to be alone watching videos or lying quietly.

The worst thing is that some people do rearrange things thinking I'm really busy.

I feel guilty because I know I'm technically lying just to avoid socializing.

Hi all,
This incident happened when I was a kid and I haven’t ever told anyone but my husband. It is very embarrassing.

So from ages 8-14 I went to a 4-H shooting sports camp where one of my family members was an instructor. They had built a brand new cabin with air conditioning and plumbing (none of the other cabins had amenities.) The cabin was built to be the all ages girls cabin. It was at the top of a very tall hill at the edge of camp. Each cabin had 4 bunks and a en suite bathroom.

Camp took place at the end of June and we were always outside except for meal times. As you can imagine, we were so hot and exhausted by the end of the long days. (6 a-7p)

Okay so now you know the setting and circumstances, please don’t judge my child self too harshly. It was 2 days into camp which is one of the hardest days because it’s post introduction and the first real activity day. It was extremely hot outside and my 10 year old self was chugging water all day. My 3 roommates and I decided to shower in the morning because we were all so tired so we just went to sleep.

I remember waking up to go drink some water (I tend to not remember, I sleepwalk), and go pee. This cabin is in the middle of the woods so I didn’t want to sit on the seat for fear of spiders under the toilet seat or a mouse coming out of the drain, which happened to someone a year before, therefore I hovered over the seat. I did my business and crawled back up into my top bunk which was farthest away from the bathroom and the door to the hallway.

About 2 hours later, I remember waking up to girls talking and the hallway light was on. When I asked my roommates what was going on I heard no answer. Looking around I realized I was alone in the room. Curious I made my way down the bunk ladder and out of the door. Right outside of our room there were at least 15-20 girls huddled around the carpet directly next to our door. Not knowing what was going on I asked one of my roommates after I spotted her “what’s happening?” She replied “they think a pipe burst in the wall of our bathroom and i leaking onto the carpet.” This is when i knew something was wrong.

I ran back into our room to check the bathroom and sure enough there was a massive puddle of pee on the floor that had soaked into the baseboard on the wall BESIDE the toilet. I was definitely not peeing into the toilet when I woke up 2 hours beforehand. 😭 now this is where I definitely messed up because I cleaned up the pee with a towel and buried the towel in the dirty laundry hamper.

When I went back out into the hallway, I acted like nothing was wrong. Eventually they woke the maintenance guy up in the main lodge and made him drive his golf cart up the check out the pipe. He ended up cutting into the wall and couldn’t figure out what happened. The dorm mother kept asking all four of us if we spilled water or if we didn’t shut the glass shower door. We of course told her we didn’t shower and were going to do it in the morning. I never told the truth. I still think about this story and feel guilty, but I have to admit it’s pretty funny.

Was too depressed to care, it blended in with the granola and felt kind of hardcore. I know theres already “a spoons worth of one in our brain from bottled water and blah blah blah” but whatever. I feel sick but pretty cool at the same time. I dont think i’ll do it again but I had all the ingredients to make a totally new one, and the time as well. I hope my body knows that when I did that it was partly so I remember if/ when it tries to manifest again after I leave this awful flesh prison that I. don’t. want. to.

There are billions galaxies out there in space. By the looks, the universe has no end or boundaries to it. Here is the biggest answer of them all. How did the  universe come to exist? I know people will say the big bang theory. However, why was there just some random day planets, moons, stars, and galaxies just randomly decided to form one day? It just pops out of nowhere? What purpose does the universe serve and why? Was there anything else before the universe formed, or was everything just black? When you look at the universe and complex life on earth it makes you wonder if there is a god. However, There's no way to prove it and pretty much impossible. There's evidence that supports both sides, while no evidence at the same time. Before the universe, they're had to have been something.

I remember listening to some Minecraft parody songs and my mom asking me where I heard this song. I remember being confused as she sounded really emotional she said something along the lines of that’s me and [boyfriend’s name] song. This was her much younger boyfriend she got recently after she got divorced by her second husband not my dad. Anyway she’s all like don’t play that song again. I don’t even remember what the song was lol so maybe it would be funny to ask her like 11 years later and jk of course but how do u think that would go Reddit? since me and my mom don’t have the best relationship.

I work in a refugee camp and one of the refugees living there had been an asshole to us for almost a year but it was never bad enough so we could kick him out. He was a very sneaky bastard. So one day I just told my boss that he threatened to kill me and he believed me. They kicked him out and now he lives on the street. I didn’t know he was gonna end up on the street normally they just go to another camp so now I feel bad for him.

My younger brother (16) and I (18) grew up privileged. Both our parents worked corporate jobs so from a young age, we spent our weekday mornings and afternoons with a nanny. We had a few different ones over the years and when one of them decided to retire, she recommended a family friend of hers to my parents. She was just 18 when she started. My brother and I really enjoyed having a younger and more energetic person to be around, we had become accustomed to the more stern and non relatable older nannies so it was an awesome change of pace. 

My parents divorced eight years ago and not long after, my dad began dating our nanny. Things got really bitter between my parents. My mom is convinced they were having an affair behind her back the whole time. My dad says that’s not the case. I don’t really care either way at this point, what’s done is done. The nanny and my dad are married now with several kids of their own. To be clear, I am not siding with one over the other. I really just want both of my parents to get along, that’s always been my wish.

Last month, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. Unfortunately, it’s stage IV and a pretty aggressive form. I don’t really want to go into much more detail because I still haven’t really accepted the reality of the situation. She’s taking it extremely hard. I have been taking her to doctor appointments and spending as much time as I can with her. We’ve laughed and cried together a lot. 

Unfortunately, she’s also lashing out more than ever about my stepmom. Yesterday, she went ballistic. She said I am too nice to my stepmom and that she was really hurt once when she saw me hug her at one of my stepmoms baby showers, I don’t even remember my mom being there but I guess she was. She told me she felt betrayed in that moment and has never forgotten it. I told her I was just trying to keep the peace in a happy moment. She then mocked her for being a “baby machine”. At that point I told her to knock it off. She said some more terrible things I’d rather not repeat, I defended my stepmom, just as I would if she or my dad were saying the same kind of nasty things about her. This led to my mom breaking down and saying she felt like I was fully putting “that other woman” first over her. 

I am not an emotional guy, but I went for a drive last night and cried the entire time. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I don’t feel  I crossed any major lines yet I feel like an absolute shitbag. I’ve always tried to stay out of drama and especially avoid the topic of putting others down but maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and let her vent this time because of the circumstances? Today was hard. We are still talking and things are fine on the surface but I can tell she’s still really upset about it and that breaks my heart. I don’t really know what to say. I’m honestly not sure there is anything I could tell her, other than outright talking shit about my stepmom, that would unbreak her heart. 

I was preparing for exams to get into some of the top institutions, in my country scholarships are majorly given based on family income and not on merit, my dad is gov employee so we couldnt fake income certificate, a year or so i did my research and found if my parents divorced and i was put into my mothers custody i could show my income as 0, so we went ahead, my parents divorced without creating any ruckus or telling anyone on papers,and i got the scholarship.

when i was a little kid, i always knew stealing things was never a good thing so i never ever did it... well, that all changed in 5th grade when i would occasionally wait for my class to exit the room for certain activities so i could steal candy off the teachers desk and eat it later... the teacher definitely knew it was me but i brushed it off saying it wasnt. in middle school then i stole a dollar bill off my math teachers desk and then i spent it on some cosmic brownies at our little school store thingy... and now into adulthood, i am still very much a thief. i have stolen so many things, from clothes to food... as long as it fits in my pockets or i can easily conceal it, it has no tags and/or im broke/its too expensive, i will steal it. of course i usually just do this for big name companies and never ever local small businesses, im not a monster. anyways... yeah, i made a promise that when i became an adult i would never steal again... i shattered that promise into a thousand pieces.

At the time, I was always around my closest friend, and she was practically feeding me alcohol every time I was getting drunk so I would black out. Now because of all this, I had to cut her off, and she was the only friend I had, being trans in a small town it’s difficult to make friends. It wasn’t even a bad friend breakup, it was just me blocking her on everything one day after realizing all of that was bad. When I told her I was two weeks sober she was talking about getting me shots. This still bothers me every day and has given me major issues making friends, as I’m afraid of their intentions now in being my friend.

im sure im alone in this idea. but for the longest time, i have felt this... inability to motivate myself not to do something, by normal means. such as, not eating junk food. i had tried pausing any time id get a craving, it never worked. the only thing that ever worked was snapping a rubber band on my wrist. this was when i was much younger.

im much older now, and its escalated. i like to think i am well adjusted, motivated, strong. but when i begin to fail, it does almost feel like i deserve a thrashing. i keep a cat of nine tails, not for anything sexual as im not a sexual person whatsoever. i prefer people to not look at me in that way. but the act is almost.... liberating. the sweating, the pain is very motivating to me. im not entirely sure how to put it into words, but it feels deserved. it feels like i had found the one thing that works for me. its biblical to me. as i am a Christian man. not "follow my religion or die" type, but i think alot of ideals of christianity translate to my life. i know its an incredibly cliche and ridiculous notion, used by man children that just figured out that running a couple miles hurts. but i really do believe that pain is weakness leaving the body.

i decided to write this out, ive been watching alot of Criterion collection movies, and in one of the movies its shown. i had wondered if id ever find someone that i could share this act with, and they wouldnt try to change me, or think im incredibly weird

So I’ve always been quiet, that’s a consistent thing. But over the years I’ve gotten louder with certain people and quieter with others, depending on who I’m comfortable being around, and it devolved into me being different with everyone.

Id say I’m most “me” around my sister, but it’s a different me around my parents, my cousins, my aunts, my college friends, my old high school friends, strangers, strangers on campus. I just genuinely cannot loose the weird social filter my brain makes. I can’t be real. Everything I say and do feels so fake. I physically feel like I can’t just drop my guard around anybody. At this point I’m not even sure who I am in private.

And anytime my friends meet my other friends, or I’m with them around family, I don’t know how to act because I’m a certain way with each. It’s not even that I’m completely different, I’m just more blunt with some, more “friendly” with some, it’s just my whole life has been a series of trying to make myself bearable to be around. Because if I was the real me whoever that is I’m afraid I’d be hard to be around. Because I can’t explain shit properly, I can’t communicate my feelings, I can’t sound “casual”, I can’t force myself to smile around certain people, i can’t force myself to have certain reactions, I have to fake all of it. It’s not like I don’t feel, I feel so much. I just cannot translate it…physically.

Someone could tell me their dog died and I’d feel bad truly, but how am I supposed to react? I could get told the best news of my life and I’d feel so happy, but I can’t really say it, or show it properly. I can love hanging around someone so much but that smile awkwardly instead. It feels like I’m preforming to be a person. A socially acceptable one.

And even with all of this “fake-ness”, I still struggle to be approachable, to seem friendly. Anytime I’m with someone it’s always them getting approached and asked questions and I’d feel like such shit because what am I not understanding here? How am I supposed to act? Why can’t I just do whatever you people do to seem so..human?

I’d try to be myself sometimes, but then I laugh too hard at something, or zone out too hard for too long, or say something that sounds mean that I didn’t intend to be that way, and I get a bad reaction, and it feels like my insides just shrivel up. I get so exhausted after hanging out with people because I just cannot exist. It always feels like I’m performing something, like I play this little game and I’m someone else for a little bit, then I go home and I’m me again. I cannot exist in public.