I don’t think i can go through dialysis again. I’m sick of seeing my mother and i have no friends. I’m deciding hospice is better off for me and i still just wanna cry

Got deleted from unpopular opinion so sorry if its repetitive;

Not sure how unpopular it is but it definitely seems like people are way more accepting of it than I am...

Like the title says anytime a game developer (and its always the big game studios, for obvious $$$ reasons) put big name actors into video games it makes the game unplayable for me.

Some examples would be cyber punk with Keanu reeves or death stranding with that dude from the walking dead.. both of those games were completely unplayable for me even though I think, otherwise, I would have loved the gameplay, story, etc.

Beyond some recognizable actor who i may or may not care about completely breaking immersion for me it also just seems like such a waste of money for the studio and a money grab at the same time.

They could put my favorite actor of all time in a video game and I would still hate it because the whole point of a game is that they are creating a custom fantasy from the ground up - so it's beyond me why suddenly we need a digitized version of a film actor to suddenly be the star of whatever game.

So, I have a tarot card deck that explains what each card means on it. I’m going to set it up with a table and a chair and pull one card for the parents (if they are interested) while their child gets candy. Good idea? Bad idea? Any improvements?

Not all romani were gypsies, not al gypsies were romani. They sprawled across many countries Including Ireland where they weren't romani..

so I have No idea what to call the nomadic people that dressed like witch hippies since its sprawled across different nationalities, and ancestry .. and there is technically Not a name for that specific demographic ..outside, Nomads , that some find offensive. It Don't exist . You say Nomads, you don't think that Specific. Bc there were so many types, including jews at the time.. So WTF Do I call That Clothing Style? It Ain't Romani!! Romani s Many Things .. not Just gypsy, which is many nationalities, ancestry across Multiple places that Are Not that ..

There ain't a name for that ..it don't exist. So How Tf do I talk about that, when it's not ONE people.

Romani =/= gypsy, gypsy =/=romani. There were Irish gypsies As Well .. How do I talk about it. What do I call ancient traveling witch hippies that everyone gets what it is when I say one name .

Idk what other problems I’d be complaining about in the next few months but it certainly wouldn’t be any of the ones I’m suffering with now including chronic loneliness.

I would pay any amount of money for my own personal waymo like car.

I’m not talking about Teslas “FSD” supervised driving bullshit, I mean a real autonomous car.

Imagine waking up and your car is pulled out of the drive way, ready to take you to work. Then you can watch videos, read a book, fucking whatever until your destination where it drops you off and finds a parking spot.

Need to go to the airport? Your car can drop you off and then return home.

Drunk at bar? Have your car pick you up.

Roadtrip? Take a nap in the back seat!

No more circling the block for parking, just drop me off and find a free parking garage a mile away.

It’s the one piece of tech that really makes me look forward to the future.

​

You know, I give up. Nowadays it doesn't matter how much you care about someone. How much you doing for someone. It's pointless. That's all nice really, but totally optional and worthless if you're ugly.

Oh and before you tell me I'm overreacting, people literally recommend facial surgery. I'm not kidding.

I'm so pathetic, I gave people everything I could and it still wasn't enough. I'm such a loser, each time I'm seeing a shooting star I did pray to be loved just so god could laugh at me again. I wished for it even when I found some 4-leafedclover. I was praying in a church.

I was in a gym, I lost 30kg, I did travel my country, I'm in a course since a half year where I interact with new people and I'm still alone. I'm also in therapy since 2 years. I was in rehab too.

I asked people out and heard so much what's wrong about me that I don't know what to do about it.

Wrong height, eye color, hair color, nationality, a stupid name, wrong distance, no experience, not enough money. Stupid hobbies etc.

Like WHAT ON EARTH SHOULD I DO?!

I'm still young which is pretty and I meet my special someone when I stop looking for it and working on myself and I heard that like a million times. 10 years later. NOTHING, HAPPENED.

So Hey guess it means shit. My fault for "being the best friend, they ever had" while I'm just easily replaceable and fucking ugly.

I wished so much to have a family in life but I accept it that I don't have the opportunity or even the choice.

So honestly I wish everyone the best and hope everyone can reach what they wish for.

I gave up now. I don't want to waste pointless energy and tears anymore.

What actually makes someone a bad person? I often wonder this about myself, because I easily get frustrated and can often be an angry loser. I often feel alone and often berate myself for such mistakes as my goal in life is to be a good person.

So I know what is to be done to be good, but I am lazy and fail to correct my mistakes despite knowing what must be corrected. Impulse and general unhappiness and loneliness stops it every time. Sometimes it isn’t even that, it’s just adrenaline. So, using myself as an example, does that make me bad as a person? Or just lame and shitty?

On the other hand, i have met people who have committed horrible crimes, who have lied to extreme extents and who have cheated on their partners.

I have also met people who are so kind and loving, but who also have intense gossipy streaks and extremely judgemental personalities. I have met people who constantly put others down for their own enjoyment (I’ve been on the end of that a good few times), but also hugely kind and encouraging people who have had incredible bursts of anger and have ruined relationships with it.

I guess I’m having a nit of a crisis of personality myself, as my anger and impulsive behaviour is being worsened by loneliness and is pulling people away from me. But what actually DOES make someone a bad person? Because it’s so grey for me, and some people who I love have been deemed bad despite me thinking that they are alright. It’s just something that is very complicated for me, and I would like to understand further. Morality is a strange concept.

I feel like people don't realize how big of a deal it is that AI is this smart, or maybe I'm crazy? I think so far it's mostly hit devs (which most people are fine with let's be honnest) because most business see them as just a massive cost center, and in retrospect it's kinda absurd how much devs get paid just because they know how to code.

But am I supposed to believe that AI is smart enough to be better for example at math than literally anyone, but it won't be good enough to do the other jobs? I'm really puzzled, maybe a lot of people think math is just compicated computations so they aren't too surprised a machine is good at it?

Basically I think if your job is about dealing with the politics or the people side of things, or if it is really really important that there is someone to be mad at in case something fails you may be fine for a while. Or also blue collar jobs, at least until the robots get good.

But I genuinely don't see how the model where you get paid mostly because you know how to actually do something can survive.

I'm so disappointed and my good mood is entirely killed. One google for you, 1 hour total traveling time for me. Why would she even ask me that, come on you've had a computer for 20+ years. She said she removed the shortcut from the desktop. Seriously how bad can it be?

That is all.

I just applied to this factory CNC operator position that has hours I really like. I love manufacturing work, and I've been super excited for this job. Today was my interview, and I thought I was totally ready. Usually I crush interviews. I think I've only ever had one job interview that I didn't get. I've gotten to where I don't feel nervous or bother to prepare at all. I just walk in confident and make it work. I've even had three different interviews where I went off on random tangents about world politics and I still got the job. (It helps that I've only ever applied for entry level meathead jobs.)

So I didn't think this was going to be any different. I walked into the interview room, shook their hands, and then they said "So tell us about yourself."

Nobody told me that that was going to be the whole interview. In all my entry level meathead interview experience, they always ask you questions like "What would you say are your strengths?" or "What would you do if the building caught on fire?" or "Why did you decide to apply for this job in particular?"

So I ask them "Uh. . . What do you want to know?" and they're just like "Whatever you think is important." So I just sort of explain that I enjoy working in factories before vaguely trailing off and mentioning that I recently took a trip to Japan. I THOUGHT THEY WERE JUST ASKING ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF BUT ACTING REALLY WEIRD ABOUT IT. After I trailed off they just asked me why I left my last job and then what salary I expect, AND I DECIDED TO HIGHBALL THEM BY A DOLLAR.

I walked out feeling vaguely confused about the whole thing, and like 20 minutes later I thought of something I should've said and I was like "Oh man, I should've mentioned that when they asked about, uh. . . about. . . Did they ask me any questions? Wait, was I supposed to bring this up when they asked me to talk about myself!?"

Fortunately I managed to slip in a few positives about myself when they asked why I left my last job. Like I mentioned that I had a former manager seek me out and headhunt me into a different company to be his assistant manager. I can't imagine if they're going to read that as "Some idiot with a single unlikely story," or "Some competent guy who's profoundly terrible at selling himself."

I wish I could just walk back into the office and be like "No wait, I get it now. You wanted me to talk about myself. Yeah, it's a tough question. Took me a bit to wrap my head around it, but let me tell you about myself." At this point I'm just hoping that anybody else who applied is an even bigger meathead.

A: the second you turn up the music when it was just quiet, someone has to take an important call for 20+ min so you need to turn down the music.

Or B: someone has to pee so bad their bladder is about to pop every 30 minutes.

Cause it was both for me this road trip.

As the title suggests, I had an argument with my mom today about college, it started since yesterday, when I told my mom about restarting college again so I can become a doctor and do premed, she doesn’t accept the idea and instead got angry with me because she believes I’m not fit to become one and thinks that I will quit college because of that, I never said I wanted to quit college, I just said I wanted to change my major, but she just doesn’t see that. I’m Autistic and have learning disorders but I’ve been trying to prove her that I’ve been trying to learn these subjects I struggle with so I can take these classes and get good grades but she still doesn’t see it that way. She thinks it’s just another way for me to quit college and since next year since people my age are graduating college she thinks I’ll regret it later in life, whine that I haven’t finished college at 22 and wished I could’ve finished. I never said about quitting, 22 is also a good age to restart too since some people don’t like their major (for me, I don’t like my current major) and start again.

But then again, that’s the pain of still living with your parents at 21 years old…

I just want to pursue my dreams and not having to rely on people to stop me from perusing them. Yes I may not be good at math, but for the past month I’ve been learning more and more and I’ve been working hard and she doesn’t see that. It’s frustrating and I wish she can understand that, and not see it as an argument but see it as my life path.

I know this is kind of like a vent but I just need to let it out somehow. What do you think about this?

Back in freshman year of college (early 1980s), there were two guys I hung out with. We mostly smoked pot together and did stupid freshman stuff. One of the guys, who I knew from high school, flunked out after freshman year and moved back home. The other one dropped out after sophomore year and went to a different school in the area but we still hung out.

Eventually I totally lost contact with the guy who flunked out, but the other guy and me still hung out occasionally after graduation. He moved away and we only stayed in touch via Facebook. He went quiet for a while only to resurface months later with photos from the hospital, saying he had cancer and was probably dying. Shortly after that, his wife posted to say that he had died. Pretty sad.

Every so often, I would think about that first guy, who flunked out and then we lost touch with him. He was a character, so I wanted to find out about him, but nothing would turn up in any of my searches.

Until it did. A few days ago, I did some deeper searches (which were difficult, because he had a pretty common name), and eventually I learned that this guy had also died just over ten years ago, leaving behind a wife and two kids.

That threw me for a loop a little bit. And yeah, it's another thing that makes me feel old. That these two guys who I hung out with a lot all those years ago are both dead. Just another thing that makes me value my own immediate family that much more.

He was a coworker who eventually got a new job. I think the distance helped me cut him off because he was always wanting to get dinner after work which was usually garbage food. I know that's on me but I have an eating disorder and it's like offering an alcoholic tequila shots, he would often offer to buy or pressure to go eat trash food- our work is stressful and shitty. When I was trying to exercise he would be blowing up my phone. He never wanted to eat healthy or exercise like go for a walk, always blaming his knee. There were some pros like talking shit about work, occasionally going to a movie or a trip somewhere, etc.

He then got upset I went on dating apps and matched with men, he also made a dating profile (he was permanently banned from main stream apps because of his behaviour) where he wrote about me in his bio, he then tried to sabotage any connection I had with other men like telling me they were angry at me. He then tried to police when I went out with other people or weaponise his mental health e.g something that wasn't previously an issue was suddenly sending him into a depressive spiral but only when I was going out. He became obsessive, possessive, and co-dependent. I noticed I had to lie or downplay my outings where it pissed me off because why TF should I be answering to some C*NT I wasn't even dating. He then committed acts of cringe such as: saying his mother asked why we aren't dating but he told her we are just friends, coming off as if he hoped I would say otherwise. He would make comments about how I smell nice and my body, I am actually concerned he was getting turned on during phone calls, us accidentally touching, or the thought of me showering or getting dressed. He once said something about me talking to other men while in a relationship and I asked him who was I in a relationship with then he changed the subject, and I think he got excited over people thought we were dating at our previous workplace. He also kept asking me my thoughts on having children.

I do believe he was having a full on fantasy of us dating and eventually having a family together. Meanwhile I was feeling disgusted and smothered. It was getting to the point I couldn't stand him calling me or messaging me. I think he felt me moving away so instead of leaving me alone he got extra clingy like messaging me on all social media platforms including email, when I told him I want to be left alone he said he would give me space then proceeded to keep messaging me. I was on my period, feeling depressed, and wanted to be depressed in peace. I knew he wouldn't leave me be so instead of giving him a chance to harass me via messages and calls I told him I don't want to be friends, wished him the best, and blocked him.

He then must have taken a day off work just to call me 13 times and sign me up to pathology services.

I'm taking them, and it's been about a week and I'm starting to feel some effects already. But I can't help but think, is this just to make me happy among all the shitty things that there are? I remember being happy in the past but that was mainly because I expected to live a good life with how things were going for me. One day that all changed. Ever since then I've been struggling to feel good. I have good moments, but never a baseline of hapiness.

I guess things have changed, and I did do some stuff about my problems and I guess I'm happy I got this far already. But I don't nearly feel up to the task of getting into a relationship.

Forgot why I wrote this

I used to think that by the time I reached adulthood, I'd have a better idea of what I was doing with my life. I thought I'd feel more confident, have things figured out, and know what direction I was heading in. But honestly, it feels like I'm just learning as I go. Some days I feel like I'm making progress, and other days I feel like I'm falling behind, even when I'm trying my best.

One thing I've realized is that nobody really prepares you for how overwhelming the little things can become when they all pile up at once. Work, money, responsibilities, relationships, and trying to make time for yourself can feel like a lot to manage.

I guess I always imagined that there would be some point where everything would finally click and I'd feel like I had my life together. Now I'm starting to wonder if everyone is just figuring things out at their own pace and pretending they know what they're doing a little better than they actually do.

I'm curious how other people experience this. Did you eventually reach a point where you felt more settled in life, or is being an adult really just a continuous process of figuring things out?

Your feelings truly matter, and the struggles you're facing in your friendships don’t determine your worth. It takes a lot of courage to work through these difficult times, and I really admire the strength you have.

Don't forget to be kind to yourself. Healing and personal growth take their own time, and every small step forward matters. Your capacity to hold onto hope, even when times are tough, showcases the incredible strength that lies within you.

You deserve friendships that feel real, fulfilling, and easy. Trust that by being your true self, you'll attract those who genuinely appreciate you. The connections you seek are closer than you think, and they'll find their way to you.

You deserve friendships that are genuine, fulfilling, caring, supportive and effortless. Have faith that you will meet people who will truly value you. The connections you long for are within reach, and they will come to you.

If someone isn’t treating you right, chooses to leave, or just doesn’t want to be your friend, that’s really on them, not you. It doesn’t reflect your value at all. Those people just aren’t meant to be part of your life. The right people will show up eventually, or you’ll find them when the moment is just right.

Remember that you are seen, cherished, valued, amazing and loved just as you are.

I've read through many Eastern, Western, and African philosophical and religious works and I struggle with deriving any tangible benefits from it. On the flip side, many of life's questions have been answered for me. However, I still struggle with the time I've invested into it and have not seen anything of a noticable effect on my life other than being in poverty and having more trouble fitting in with other people along with some insights here and there in regards to the nature of the self, this reality, and God. It's funny, maybe, I have benefited from reading through philosophical and religious works, but my reality seems unchanged or even financially struggling more than I would have if I had just gone to college. I'll post the list of books for people if they are interested in reading these works, but as I said, I don't feel like I benefited that much from them materially, but maybe spiritually and mentally. Well wishes and best of luck. Cheers. ✌️

The Bible

The Quran

The Dhammapada

The Bhagavad Gita

The Analects by Confucius

Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle

The Republic by Plato

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche

Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant

Sustenance of the Soul by Abu Zayd al-Balkhi

The Muqaddimah by Ibn Khaldun

Rumi

Self-Reliance and Other Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

The Alchemy of Happiness by Imam al-Ghazali

City of God by St. Augustine

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by Shunryu Suzuki

Buddhist Koans

Tell me your thoughts on this list and if you were ever interested in reading these works. I mainly wanted to post this to try to derive some form of a benefit from my reading of these works. 😅 Maybe, I just have to settle for what they've taught me and not focus so much on my material loss. I dunno. Cheers. ✌️

I can't include everything as it's too long and often don't receive much response, so here are some of the main points.

I struggle with motivation, but I don’t think laziness completely explains it. I can understand why I need to do something, recognize that I’m capable of doing it, and even imagine how it could benefit my future, yet still feel little desire to actually follow through.

Most of my motivation comes from curiosity or the fear of immediate consequences. If something interests me, I’ll explore it until I’ve satisfied my curiosity, and then I usually move on. If something has consequences, I’ll often put it off until those consequences feel close enough to matter. Long-term rewards, like having a stable future, make sense to me intellectually, but they don’t create much excitement or motivation.

Sometimes I think I’m just lazy. I know I could complete an assignment, but I don’t feel like doing it, so I find an easier way to get it over with. Other times, I wonder if it’s because I don’t see much of a point in doing things in the first place. I can imagine having a successful, comfortable life, but I don’t necessarily imagine myself feeling fulfilled by it.

I’ve also spent a lot of time thinking about the meaning of life, identity, and whether anything is genuinely worthwhile. I don’t know how much that influences my motivation, but sometimes ordinary responsibilities feel insignificant when I consider the bigger picture. I can recognize that I need money, education, and some form of stability without feeling particularly driven to pursue them.

I don’t feel like I have a consistent passion or goal that gives me direction. I mostly follow whatever interests me in the moment, and when that interest fades, I often stop. I’m also somewhat detached from my surroundings and from the idea of my own future, which might contribute to why things don’t feel as important as I know they are. I don’t know whether this is laziness, difficulty initiating and sustaining tasks, a lack of purpose, emotional detachment, or some combination of those things.

I don’t actually know what I feel toward my parents most of the time.
Not in the dramatic, continuous way people seem to expect. I can say I don’t want them harmed, that part is solid enough, but beyond that it gets thin. If they’re just living their lives, doing whatever, existing in the same house or the same world as me without anything urgent happening, they start to feel like… people. Just people. There’s no automatic pull, no constant undercurrent of warmth or dread or attachment that stays switched on.

The only times something sharper shows up is when one of two things is true: either they’re in some kind of danger or emotional freefall and I feel the old reflex to keep them safe, or they’re actively giving me comfort, fun, or that familiar sense of being settled. Outside those windows it fades. I can be sitting right there with them, even feel something in the moment, and then it’s like I blink and the feeling is gone—replaced by this clinical distance where I’m just observing the interaction instead of living inside it. They start to feel more like a memory I’m still near than people I’m currently bound to.

I stick around because it’s what I’m used to, because the routines are known, because on some level I still want them to feel okay. But if I’m honest, a lot of the time it doesn’t feel like love in the continuous, self-generating sense. It feels more like response. Like I react when the situation calls for it, and the rest of the time I can turn my attention away without much internal resistance. I’m not sure whether that means the feeling was never that deep, or whether it just got worn down into something quieter and more conditional. Either way, I can’t pretend the steady, always-on version is there when it isn’t.

The sexual version of the domination isn’t some separate kink I can cleanly label. It’s the same need for asymmetry and consequence, just running hotter and more specific. With men it usually starts from a baseline of discomfort—especially faces with facial hair, the ones that read as authority or threat. Being alone talking feels off; the body registers them as something that could dominate me socially or physically, so the fantasy flips it. Reduction, emasculation, forced reframing, watching the role collapse. It’s rough and concrete. Sometimes I’m the one imposing it, sometimes I’m the one under it, but either way there’s an ideal woman running in the background of the scene, like the real target of the desire has to be held at a distance while the male body supplies the friction and the stakes.

With women it’s different. The charge is less about neutralizing a threat and more about possession and directed access. Knowing the body is under control while the mind might still be separate. Changing someone’s trajectory, especially if they carry some weight of purity, strength, or narrative importance. Ordinary mutual desire often feels thin or unavailable, so the erotic charge shifts toward power and reaction instead. Physical pleasure is there, but it’s rarely the whole point; the point is that something is happening *to* them and I can feel the shape of it.

None of this is something I act on. The restraints are practical and immediate; consequences for me, consequences for the few people I actually protect. The fantasies stay internal or fictional. But they don’t feel disgusting the way they’re supposed to. What registers instead is interest, intensity, sometimes pleasure. The moral framing other people treat as automatic just doesn’t light up the same way.
That’s the same pattern that shows up with empathy outside my immediate circle. I can understand someone else’s pain intellectually.

I can even behave compassionately when I’m in the room and can’t leave, or when helping lets me feel like I’ve altered a trajectory. But the visceral, continuous pull that seems to drive other people is mostly absent. Distant victims often leave me indifferent. Strong moral language from them can even irritate me, because it feels like they’re being handed a ready-made narrative and a community of support that never quite arrives for the way I experience things.

Stories of harm, especially sexual harm, can register as charged or interesting in the abstract; the same events happening to someone right in front of me usually just produce the socially expected performance or a quiet urge to leave. Unless it's an emotional reaction I register to that of a wounded animal, in which case empathy may arrive as all other justifications have been vacant, replaced by the immediate thought of "this hurts, make it stop." But even then, it may or may not show up. In older men and women it may arrive, but with those my age or younger, it's not much of a detractor.

Inside the small circle it’s different. Protectiveness shows up. Softness shows up when the distress is raw and adult and stripped of justification. Outside that circle the default is thinner: limited feeling, mild irritation at the scripts, an absence of compulsion. I know how that reads; It reads like coldness, like narcissism, like something broken. I’m not sure it’s any of those things in the clean diagnostic sense. It’s just what the internal machinery actually does when the person isn’t already inside the narrow set of people who still register as real to me.

I'm not sure how to explain it best, so I'll keep it brief, and if you have any questions, I'll answer them in the comments.

I can't do anything, nothing, without my mind questioning everything, without forcing me to leave it for later, without directly forcing me not to do it even if it's what I want most.

It's a long story, and as I write this I can feel my head telling me to stop writing, that it's pointless and that I'm wasting my time.

I want to live, I want to do what I love, but I can't even write without deleting over and over again.

.

I went to psychologists, they told me I'm fine, I don't need pills, treatment, nothing, maybe panic attacks...

I don't think panic has forced me to put everything off since I was 5.

I don't think it was panic that forced me to watch with guilt as my body and dreams deteriorated without being able to do anything.

It's my mind, my mind is the problem

I feel like I'm living in a cloud, I can't think clearly, everything is so hazy that I can't do anything, and if I try, my head forces me to stop and leave it for later.

The slightest thought about my future, my responsibilities, even my dreams, gives me a migraine that forces me to stop.

I know it's not me, I know I want to live, I want to be responsible, I want to be someone, but every professional I talk to tells me I have nothing wrong with me and I don't know what to do

There's a moment, maybe 20 minutes a month, when my mind clears, there's silence, there's no voice in my head punishing me, and everything becomes easy; out of nowhere, I'm the most productive person around.

My dreams, my responsibilities, everything becomes easy and within reach... Then out of nowhere it returns, and I'm clouded again, that voice forces me to stop and I become a waste once more

I want to create a universe, that's my dream. I've had that in my mind for years: characters, problems, endless stories, all stored in my mind.

It would be wonderful to be able to create something that children and adults enjoy, maybe make a comic, a series, a movie about it, to be able to empty my head into something like that, to create something

I want to be able to show it to people and have it become something they like, but I feel like I'm getting old, time is passing and I can't even look at myself in the mirror without feeling anger and despair.

I don't know if there's anyone like me who's found their solution, there must be someone, right?

Someone who has gone through the same thing, but was lucky enough that someone listened to them and was able to help them

Or perhaps not, and I am alone in this, like many others who die from the weight of their own heads full of unborn dreams.

I'll be checking back for comments for a while; maybe I'll delete this later and regret wasting my time thinking I have a solution. Thanks for reading.