Sometimes, I Feel Like I’m Living A Life I Don’t Fully Deserve. No Matter How Many Achievements I

Some moments cut so deep they become woven into who we are. Choosing to close the door on someone who brought so much pain isn’t just a decision; it’s survival. In the quiet spaces of my heart, I still hear the echoes of betrayal, disappointment, and heartbreak. Whenever I think of letting him back in, a wave of loathing rises up, reminding me that stepping back into that pain would mean losing myself all over again.

Let’s be clear: there are people who take and take, leaving nothing but a hollow shell in their wake. He was one of those people. The way he twisted my trust into a weapon against me was nothing short of monstrous. I loathe him, not just for what he did, but for the way he made me feel—small, insignificant, and unworthy of love. He took my vulnerability and used it as a means to manipulate and control, and the sheer audacity of that betrayal is enough to make my blood boil.

The memories haunt me like phantoms in the night. I remember the promises made, the tender words whispered in the dark, and the way they all crumbled like ash in the face of reality. He was a storm that wrecked my peace, and now, the thought of inviting that chaos back into my life makes my stomach churn. I would rather drown in despair than suffer through another chapter of torment that he would bring.

It’s infuriating how someone can waltz in and out of your life, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart. I have spent countless nights wrestling with the demons of self-doubt and despair he unleashed upon me. I have fought against the notion that I am somehow responsible for the pain he inflicted. But now, with every ounce of strength within me, I declare that I will not let him back in. I refuse to be a victim of his charm once more, a puppet in his twisted game of manipulation.

The agony of betrayal runs deep, and the scars left behind are reminders of the strength I’ve found within myself. The choice to keep him out is not just about protection; it’s about self-respect. I would rather die than endure the suffering of reliving the torment he caused. The thought of opening that door, of offering him a second chance he does not deserve, fills me with a deep, aching dread.

So, I stand firm. I choose to honor my pain rather than let it fester into something more destructive. I refuse to let him back in, to allow his toxicity to seep into my life once more. Every moment spent apart is a testament to my resilience, a reminder that I have the power to reclaim my life from the wreckage he left behind.

To anyone who finds themselves at a similar crossroads: choose yourself. Choose peace over chaos. The road ahead may be paved with heartache, but it’s also a path toward healing and strength. Embrace the emotions that arise—let the anger and sadness wash over you, but don’t let them define you. You are not a product of someone else’s actions; you are a warrior who has fought and survived.

In the end, my decision is not just about him; it’s about my freedom. I will not suffer the consequences of his choices any longer. I will not allow the ghosts of my past to dictate my future. I close this chapter for good, sealing the door with a promise to myself: I am worthy of better.

Life sucks.

And i wanna sleep.

Depression is an odd thing. It doesn’t always stem from a single reason, and it’s not something I can just “snap out of.” There’s a common misconception that people are depressed because they’re constantly sad, but that’s not always the case. For me, it feels like a heavy weight that sits on my chest, something that zaps my energy, motivation, and joy—even on days when everything is going okay.

Some days, it’s the little things that pile up: unanswered emails, personal doubts, the pressure of being a parent—especially to a son with autism—and the overwhelming sense that I’m just not doing enough. Other times, it’s bigger, unresolved issues, like dealing with loss, past traumas, or feeling like I’m constantly underperforming in areas of my life, despite my best efforts.

Living with depression also makes relationships tricky. I often feel disconnected from people, even those I love. Sometimes, I withdraw, not because I don’t care but because I just don’t have the energy to keep up. Other times, I overcompensate, trying too hard to be present, only to feel drained afterward.

As a single mother, I’m responsible for more than just myself, and that pressure can be overwhelming. While I love my son deeply, managing life on my own sometimes feels like walking uphill with weights tied to my legs. It’s not about him—it’s about the relentless pressure of trying to be everything for everyone while still battling my own inner demons.

I go to therapy because I know I need help unraveling everything that’s been tangled up inside for years. There are days when I feel a glimmer of hope, when I feel like maybe things are turning around. But there are also days when I just need to ride out the storm, trusting that even though it feels endless, it will eventually pass.

So if I seem distant, tired, or not like myself, it’s not that I’m avoiding anyone. It’s just that I’m doing my best to survive the battle that’s happening inside my own head.

And it’s good!

I don’t know if peaches tastes good with condensed milk....

Is Happiness an End Goal or Simply a By-Product of Other Things?

Happiness is a concept that has puzzled philosophers, scientists, and everyday people for centuries. We often hear about the pursuit of happiness, as if it's the ultimate end goal of life. But is happiness really something we should strive for directly, or is it more of a by-product of other pursuits and experiences? Some people believe that happiness should be the ultimate goal in life. They argue that everything we do, whether it’s working hard, building relationships, or pursuing hobbies, is ultimately driven by the desire to be happy. From this perspective, happiness is seen as the final destination. We set goals, achieve them, and then experience happiness as a reward. For many, this direct pursuit of happiness involves focusing on positive thinking, mindfulness, and self-care, all aimed at creating a state of well-being.

On the other hand, there is a growing belief that happiness is not something we can achieve by directly aiming for it. Instead, it’s a by-product of other activities and pursuits. According to this view, when we focus too much on trying to be happy, it can actually make us feel more stressed and less satisfied. Instead, happiness often comes from living a meaningful life, engaging in activities we are passionate about, and building strong relationships. When we immerse ourselves in things we love and care about, happiness naturally follows.

There’s also the idea that happiness is fleeting and dependent on various factors outside our control. Life is full of ups and downs, and it’s unrealistic to expect constant happiness. Instead of chasing an elusive state of perpetual happiness, some suggest focusing on building resilience and finding joy in small moments. This approach acknowledges that while we may not always be happy, we can cultivate a sense of contentment and gratitude that helps us navigate life’s challenges.

In my opinion, happiness is more likely to be a by-product of other things rather than an end goal. When we shift our focus from trying to be happy to engaging in meaningful activities, building strong relationships, and pursuing our passions, we often find that happiness naturally follows. It’s about finding joy in the journey, not just the destination. By living authentically and embracing the present moment, we can experience a deeper, more lasting sense of fulfillment and happiness. Ultimately, whether happiness is seen as an end goal or a by-product may depend on personal perspective and life experiences. What’s important is to find a balance that works for us individually, allowing us to live a fulfilling and joyful life.

Is it real this time or is it in my head?

Writing Prompt #210:

The war has been going on for over a 100 years now. Not that you’ve ever seen it, having been born in a bunker and remained here your entire life. You’ve heard the stories however, of the horrors and dangers out there.

Today, as your family is watching the news, one of the reporters snaps, “I can’t do this anymore. Everything is lie! They’re lying to you! Th-“ and the signal cut out."

In the dim light of the bunker, the flickering screen cast uneasy shadows on the walls. Your family sat in stunned silence, eyes wide as the news anchor's final, frantic words echoed in your ears.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Everything is a lie!"

The room seemed to close in as your mind raced. What could be true if the reports were fabrications? You’d always believed the stories of devastation and endless conflict were real, the stories your family told to keep you safe and to explain why you couldn’t ever go outside.

Your father’s face, usually so composed, was now a mask of worry. "It’s just a breakdown," he said quickly, though his voice betrayed his anxiety. "The reporters are under a lot of pressure. Don’t let this shake you."

But something had shifted. The old walls of your reality felt suddenly fragile, and the idea that the world outside might be different—maybe even safe—had begun to seep into your thoughts. Your mother, who had always warned against the dangers of the outside world, seemed unusually quiet, her eyes darting nervously.

"What if it’s true?" you asked, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

Your father glanced at the door as if fearing it might burst open at any moment. "Even if it is, we have to stay here. It's too dangerous outside."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken fears and the flickering uncertainty of the old news feed that had just cut out. The bunker, once a sanctuary, now felt more like a cage. As you sat there, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the world than the dark tales you had been told—a world you might never see if you stayed hidden in the shadows.

Any good series recommendations besides Reacher?

Every night you dream that you talk to a genie, when you wake up you can't remember what you wished for. One morning you wake up with a giant crab pincer replacing your right arm. What do you do?

Dreams are strange things. They take us to places beyond our imagination, and sometimes, they’re so vivid that we wake up questioning what’s real. For weeks now, I’ve been having a recurring dream where I talk to a genie every night. The weird part? I could never remember what I wished for when I woke up. It was like my subconscious was playing hide-and-seek with the details, leaving me with a hazy memory of the conversation but no clue what I’d actually asked for.

But then came that morning. The one where I opened my eyes, stretched out my right arm, and… it wasn’t there. Instead of my usual hand and arm, a massive crab pincer had taken its place. I froze, staring at the monstrous claw attached to my shoulder, a mix of horror and disbelief washing over me. This couldn’t be real, could it? I had to be dreaming still, right?

I did what any rational person would do: I pinched myself with the claw. Let me tell you, crab pincers are no joke. The pain was very real, and with that, the reality of the situation sunk in. Somehow, someway, my dream wish had manifested into this bizarre and terrifying reality.

After the initial shock, the questions flooded in. How could this have happened? Why a crab pincer, of all things? I tried to think back to the previous night’s dream, but as always, the memory was foggy. Maybe I’d wished for something vague, like “strength” or “protection,” and the genie had interpreted that in the weirdest possible way. Or perhaps I’d made some offhand joke about having a tough exterior. Whatever the reason, here I was, the unfortunate owner of a giant crustacean claw.

So, what do you do when you wake up with a crab pincer for an arm? First, I panicked. Then, I did what I always do when life throws something inexplicable at me: I adapted.

I spent the next few days learning to navigate life with my new appendage. Simple tasks like opening doors, brushing my teeth, or even typing became Herculean challenges. But with practice, I started to get the hang of it. I learned to use the pincer delicately, avoiding crushing everything I touched. I even found it had some unexpected perks—like cracking open coconuts or, if I’m being honest, scaring off unwanted attention.

But beyond the practicalities, this experience forced me to think deeply about identity and change. How much of who we are is tied to our physical form? How do we adapt when something so fundamental about ourselves is altered overnight? The crab pincer became a symbol of resilience, a reminder that even in the face of the absurd, we have the power to adapt, to find humor, and to continue moving forward.

In the end, I’ve come to embrace my new reality, as strange as it is. I still don’t know what I wished for that led to this, and maybe I never will. But maybe that’s the point. Life is unpredictable, and sometimes, the wishes we make in the depths of our dreams lead to outcomes we never could have imagined. The important thing is how we respond to those outcomes—how we choose to grow, change, and find strength, even when life hands us something as bizarre as a crab pincer for an arm.

And who knows, maybe tonight I’ll dream of that genie again and finally get some answers. Until then, I’ll keep pinching myself—both literally and figuratively—just to remind myself that this wild journey is, indeed, real.

When someone tells me I need to forgive them, I just remember what Taylor Swift said:

"You don't have to forgive and you don't have to forget to move on. You can move on without any of those things happening. You just become indifferent and then you move on."

Do you believe in forgiveness?

"Yes, absolutely. Like for people that are important in your life who have added, you know, who have enriched your life and made it better and also there's been some struggles and some bad stuff too… but I think that if something's toxic and it's only ever really been that what are you gonna do? Just move on. It's fine."