Speaker 1: What's a secret that would completely change how people see you?
Speaker 1: Story one about a decade ago, I came out as
Speaker 1: a lesbian after only dating men previously. Looking back, I
Speaker 1: was probably always bisexual, but at the time, identifying as
Speaker 1: a lesbian felt like finally stepping into who I truly was.
Speaker 1: I was vocal about it too, telling friends, co workers,
Speaker 1: even making dramatic statements like I'd rather not live or
Speaker 1: be alone forever than ever date a man again. Basically,
Speaker 1: I made a huge deal about finally finding myself and
Speaker 1: coming out as a lesbian. I said those things with conviction,
Speaker 1: partly because I'd had some very painful experiences with men
Speaker 1: that left deep emotional scars. Eventually, I found myself in
Speaker 1: a healthy, meaningful same sex relationship that lasted nearly five years.
Speaker 1: It was good until recently, when everything changed. I developed
Speaker 1: a strong, unexpected crush on a man, and not just
Speaker 1: a fleeting attraction. It grew into something obsessive, emotional, and real.
Speaker 1: We are now banging slash seeing each other, and I
Speaker 1: think I'm developing real feelings for him. Now I'm struggling
Speaker 1: with how to come out again, but this time in reverse.
Speaker 1: I've been the proud independent lesbian for so long. I'm
Speaker 1: not sure how to explain this shift without feeling like
Speaker 1: I'm betraying that identity or confusing the people around me,
Speaker 1: especially those who supported me through my earlier journey. Before
Speaker 1: we continue, do us a quick favor, smash that like
Speaker 1: button and subscribe to support our channel. Story two. A
Speaker 1: secret that would probably change how people see me. I
Speaker 1: have a body count of over two hundred and fifty.
Speaker 1: I'm a male. Most people wouldn't expect it. I've always
Speaker 1: carried this good guy vibe. I'm well respected, loved in
Speaker 1: my community, and known for being stable, emotionally intelligent, hard working,
Speaker 1: and grounded. But people often say there's something deeper in me,
Speaker 1: like there's a mystery, and to be honest, there is.
Speaker 1: There's a darker side. I joke sometimes and say the
Speaker 1: devil lives there. I've never been ashamed of it, but
Speaker 1: I've reflected on it. I never lied or manipulated anyone.
Speaker 1: Every experience was consensual and mutual. We had fun, but
Speaker 1: still I knew I was abusing my power a bit,
Speaker 1: my charm, my edge, my presence. I sit in that
Speaker 1: middle ground between the good guy and the bad boy,
Speaker 1: and that tends to attract people, so when opportunities came,
Speaker 1: I didn't say no. I never felt guilty, but deep
Speaker 1: down I always knew it felt a little empty, like
Speaker 1: I took something that wasn't fully mine even when it
Speaker 1: was offered. That's the part most wouldn't expect that under
Speaker 1: the surface, even with all the fun and the high status,
Speaker 1: there was still a void, something unfulfilled. Story. Three people
Speaker 1: that know me know I was a soldier. My tattoos
Speaker 1: give me away, but only to know how hands on
Speaker 1: my role was. So to speak. My wife and my
Speaker 1: dad have both dealt with me when I've been in
Speaker 1: despair and at my lowest as a result of the
Speaker 1: things I've seen and been a part of. They are
Speaker 1: angels for putting up with that issue. My coworkers don't
Speaker 1: know I suffer from PTSD and and so these days
Speaker 1: with bouts of depression. Most of my friends, apart from
Speaker 1: one very close one, have never seen me like that.
Speaker 1: When I feel it coming on, I just disappear for
Speaker 1: a few days from day to day life and self
Speaker 1: isolate until I'm ready to be a functional human and
Speaker 1: feel comfortable to be around others. Ninety percent of the
Speaker 1: time I'm the most relaxed, fun loving thirty six year
Speaker 1: old surfer who lives for the ocean and the waves.
Speaker 1: I have a close social circle. I live in a
Speaker 1: small coastal town, so I have many acquaintances. On top
Speaker 1: of that, I'm well known in the surfing and fishing
Speaker 1: community and hopefully well loved, or at least that's the
Speaker 1: vibe I get. I'm the sort of guy who says
Speaker 1: good morning to strangers and familiar faces as I pass.
Speaker 1: I build friendly relationships with my barista and food market vendors.
Speaker 1: I will wish you a beautiful day and mean it
Speaker 1: with all my heart. I hide it well, not because
Speaker 1: of shame or guilt, but because that's the kind of
Speaker 1: image I want people to have in their minds when
Speaker 1: they think of me, because that's who I am, not
Speaker 1: twenty something clearing compound during three tours in Afghanistan. I
Speaker 1: won't share the details. You don't need to know. That's
Speaker 1: the old me, a version of me. Only my brothers
Speaker 1: from my unit will ever know. I worry people would
Speaker 1: see me differently or in a different light because they
Speaker 1: don't know or understand what their country was really involved
Speaker 1: with for twenty years over there. What it was like
Speaker 1: on the ground and what we went through. I love
Speaker 1: that for them and definitely don't want anyone feeling sorry
Speaker 1: for me my worst nightmare. I wouldn't want any civilian
Speaker 1: to have that in their heads or to really know
Speaker 1: what it was like. It wouldn't be fair to burden
Speaker 1: them with it, even if I could make them understand.
Speaker 1: Story four. I am an author of erotic stories and
Speaker 1: self published my first story under a pen name. I
Speaker 1: am currently editing my second one to be published. For
Speaker 1: most of my life, people have seen me as this
Speaker 1: conservative girl and have assumed I am very religious. I
Speaker 1: am not. I think the content I write would shock
Speaker 1: most people who know me in real life. Story five.
Speaker 1: I'm very successful in my business. I get f flown
Speaker 1: around the world to do what I love. I earn
Speaker 1: decent money, and I'm well respected as a creative pioneer
Speaker 1: in my industry. From the outside, it looks like a dream,
Speaker 1: but I'm trans a man who wasn't born a man,
Speaker 1: and that colors everything. My self confidence, my relationships, and
Speaker 1: sometimes what I can say yes to. I worry about
Speaker 1: stressful situations on a whole other level because of my body.
Speaker 1: What if I got injured abroad and had to go
Speaker 1: to the hospital. What if I got searched at the border?
Speaker 1: What if I went to prison. Worst of all, what
Speaker 1: if someone outed me and it happened in a very
Speaker 1: public way where I wasn't in control of how or
Speaker 1: when people found out. I know that if I'd been
Speaker 1: born as myself but male, looking like either of my brothers,
Speaker 1: the physical and emotional ease that comes with that would
Speaker 1: have opened so many doors. I avoid thinking about my
Speaker 1: trans status too much, and I try not to dwell
Speaker 1: on the wattiffs, but they creep in when I have
Speaker 1: to deal with the consequences of having a different kind
Speaker 1: of body, and I do worry mostly that if people
Speaker 1: saw me unclothed, maybe they'd stop seeing me as a man,
Speaker 1: even be disgusted by me. It's a lot to carry.
Speaker 1: I do grieve the freedom so many people don't even
Speaker 1: realize they have the ease of meeting and going home
Speaker 1: with someone, of not needing to calculate who's safe to
Speaker 1: be intimate with, even just being able to be choosy
Speaker 1: about who you partner up with. I know most girls
Speaker 1: wouldn't want me once they know that's just life. I'm
Speaker 1: not one of those activists who thinks it's transphobic if
Speaker 1: a straight girl doesn't want to date me a trans man.
Speaker 1: I've been a man for almost twenty years of my
Speaker 1: forty plus year life, and mostly everything is great. I
Speaker 1: am lucky. I just wish I'd been born in the
Speaker 1: right body. I've made the best of what I have,
Speaker 1: but people really don't see what it's taken. The more
Speaker 1: visible and admired I become, the heavier. The secret feels
Speaker 1: like it's living in the walls of everything I've built.
Speaker 1: Story six. The person I show on the outside is
Speaker 1: nothing but a mask. Most of my social interactions are
Speaker 1: just repeating things I heard elsewhere while trying to hold
Speaker 1: the right facial expression. I contact and void. I repeat
Speaker 1: jokes I heard in YouTube videos. I repeat phrases. I
Speaker 1: learned to show compassion, and I learned when to feel what.
Speaker 1: I practiced facial expressions in front of a mirror. I
Speaker 1: practice conversations in my head to be able to respond
Speaker 1: the right way. It's draining. The people closest to me know,
Speaker 1: but even with them, I can't be really authentic. I
Speaker 1: try to learn step by step to stop, but it's hard.
Speaker 1: Story seven. People often describe me as sweet, kind, or warm.
Speaker 1: I often try to be nice to people, uplift their
Speaker 1: spirits and help them when I can. Inside, I am
Speaker 1: a huge cynic. The reason that I can remain so
Speaker 1: optimistic is because when you expect the worst in a
Speaker 1: given situation, you can only ever be pleasantly surprised. I
Speaker 1: have a low view of human nature, low expectations of
Speaker 1: most people, and am rarely surprised by the depths of
Speaker 1: human apathy or depravity. I keep few friends and am
Speaker 1: only close with immediate family. I spread kindness because I
Speaker 1: don't think there is enough of it in the world
Speaker 1: and would like to make someone else's day a little brighter.
Speaker 1: The reason I do advocacy is because I think it's
Speaker 1: important to use your voice, not because I expect people
Speaker 1: to change or strive to be better. This works for me,
Speaker 1: but it does tend to lead to a huge difference
Speaker 1: in how other people perceive me and how I perceive myself.
Speaker 1: Story eight. I mean, I don't really carry secrets, but
Speaker 1: my life isn't really general knowledge either, and I can
Speaker 1: imagine many would see me differently if they knew it all.
Speaker 1: I have a sister who is three years older than me.
Speaker 1: She was essayed by our grandfather from the age of
Speaker 1: four up until sixteen, when she finally went to the police.
Speaker 1: She learned that sex is what we do to those
Speaker 1: we love, so she essayed me when I was six
Speaker 1: until I questioned what she was doing. When I turned eight.
Speaker 1: When she went to the police, our lives exploded. She
Speaker 1: became extremely depressed and attempted to self want to live
Speaker 1: every day, many times, multiple times a day. To this day,
Speaker 1: her entire body is riddled with scars. She felt betrayed
Speaker 1: by our parents forbidding them to come and visit her
Speaker 1: when she was put in a psych ward, and so
Speaker 1: I was the only one allowed to see her. I
Speaker 1: was with her every day, listening to her latest attempts
Speaker 1: on her life, supporting her and being strong for her.
Speaker 1: Then I'd go home and retell everything to my parents,
Speaker 1: watch them crumble, and support them and be strong for them.
Speaker 1: I was thirteen and a victim myself, yet I felt
Speaker 1: that if I would ever crumble, my family would die.
Speaker 1: I promised myself to never show weakness, to never hurt myself,
Speaker 1: and to never let my grandfather win. I promised myself
Speaker 1: that I'd make sure we all survived this. I also decided,
Speaker 1: at fourteen years old that I'm done keeping all this
Speaker 1: to myself. So I told my best friend, who I
Speaker 1: had known since daycare. Never saw him again after that day.
Speaker 1: He simply couldn't deal with it. I didn't blame him.
Speaker 1: If I could have just left, I probably would have
Speaker 1: as well. But no matter what I'd do, this is
Speaker 1: a part of who I am, and if people can't
Speaker 1: deal with it, it's better they leave early. So from
Speaker 1: that day I basically told anyone who got close to
Speaker 1: me about my past and my childhood. In a way,
Speaker 1: it was therapeutic as well, since I was always able
Speaker 1: to talk about it. But at the same time, the
Speaker 1: focus was never on me or me as a victim,
Speaker 1: always on the bigger victim, my sister. I thought I
Speaker 1: was fine, after all, my sister had finally stopped being
Speaker 1: suicidal at thirty five years old after finally finding a
Speaker 1: treatment that worked. I had a loving wife and we
Speaker 1: planned on having kids. Life was finally okay. Then we
Speaker 1: had our first kid, a boy, and I completely broke
Speaker 1: the moment I held him in my arms in my
Speaker 1: own home. I was overwhelmed by love for this boy
Speaker 1: and a panic that told me I needed to keep
Speaker 1: him safe and protect him. The older he got, the
Speaker 1: more I realized that I don't know anything about being
Speaker 1: a father and that I can't really deal with his emotions.
Speaker 1: Him crying over everything simply triggers me to hell. My
Speaker 1: therapist thinks I'm basically jealous that he gets to cry
Speaker 1: over nothing while I wasn't allowed to cry at all.
Speaker 1: I've been spiraling the last five to six years now,
Speaker 1: and at one time I was pretty close to suicidal tendons,
Speaker 1: where my mind had begun the process of breaking me
Speaker 1: down by telling me my family would be better off
Speaker 1: without me, that they didn't love me anyway, and that
Speaker 1: I was a horrible father. I started wishing I had
Speaker 1: died in a motorcycle accident I had back in twenty eleven,
Speaker 1: or that I could simply just disappear. I didn't want
Speaker 1: them to find me gone from this world. I just
Speaker 1: wished to disappear so they could live on without me
Speaker 1: as a burden. It all reached its peak last year
Speaker 1: when my sister's husband killed himself. I was at their
Speaker 1: house the day after his self inflicted passing, just sitting
Speaker 1: with their children, listening to their pain. Hugging them and
Speaker 1: answering whatever questions they had. Many of the questions were
Speaker 1: about the same stuff I had started thinking to myself,
Speaker 1: out of everything in my life. That day is the
Speaker 1: hardest thing I've ever gone through. I left their house shaking.
Speaker 1: I knew that I either seek help now or my
Speaker 1: family is going to have to go through the same
Speaker 1: thing as I just sat with there. So I used
Speaker 1: every possible lifeline I could, and one of those was
Speaker 1: calling my boss, whom I had told about my own
Speaker 1: struggles and my past during these five years. She activated
Speaker 1: our company health insurance and pressed them on the importance
Speaker 1: of immediate help. In normal cases, it would take them
Speaker 1: fourteen days to start looking into what support they can give.
Speaker 1: But when it was all done and set up, I
Speaker 1: had a therapist four days from that phone call. In
Speaker 1: my opinion, that saved my life. I'm much much better now,
Speaker 1: but at the same time, I feel like I'm walking
Speaker 1: on eggshells, waiting for the next bomb to blow. My
Speaker 1: sister has had a relapse and has been institutionalized twice
Speaker 1: in the last two months, and she's confessed that she
Speaker 1: had a date and a planned way of killing herself
Speaker 1: regardless of that she was recently allowed to dispatch herself
Speaker 1: from the psych ward. So currently I'm just waiting to
Speaker 1: see if we will lose her as well. Obviously doing
Speaker 1: what I can, but in the end, I can't stop
Speaker 1: it if she decides to go through with it. Story nine.
Speaker 1: I'm a massive extrovert. Everyone, my wife included, calls me
Speaker 1: a social butterfly. It all stems from an absolutely rancid
Speaker 1: excuse use of a childhood Pops tried, but alcohol addiction
Speaker 1: got the better of him, and all he cares about
Speaker 1: these days is drinking. Moms was an extremely intelligent, manipulative,
Speaker 1: literal psycho with a massive substance problem and neglected the
Speaker 1: crap out of me and my four half siblings. I
Speaker 1: was the oldest, so basically the man of the house
Speaker 1: from old onward. I stole food, money, et cetera to
Speaker 1: feed my siblings and could always talk my way out
Speaker 1: of trouble or give some sad sap story which progressed
Speaker 1: in my teen years to substance dealing and strong arm
Speaker 1: robberies with my friends, which fed my siblings and my
Speaker 1: growing opioid addiction. I attempted to violently confront my mom's
Speaker 1: abusive boyfriend. When I was eleven and got a short
Speaker 1: stay in a juvenile psych ward, fought a lot, put
Speaker 1: my little brother's bully in the hospital. People assumed I
Speaker 1: was just a good fighter, but I was scared before
Speaker 1: every fight or confrontation I've ever been in. I've never
Speaker 1: been one to run, so when fight slash flight kicked
Speaker 1: in and the adrenaline started pumping, I always chose to
Speaker 1: stand my ground for fear of me and my younger
Speaker 1: sibling's safety. My mom's manipulative side is what taught me
Speaker 1: how to chameleon my way into whatever situation or group
Speaker 1: which I would use to benefit myself and my younger siblings.
Speaker 1: Thus the social butterfly was born. My wife saved my
Speaker 1: life when we got together at the end of high school.
Speaker 1: Saw write through all my bs and always said my
Speaker 1: eyes are what showed her I was in pain, just
Speaker 1: something she could sense. When we finally talked about my
Speaker 1: incredibly messed up past, I broke down and told her everything,
Speaker 1: gave up hard substance. Callie Sober had a kid and
Speaker 1: basically vowed to never let my child deal with a
Speaker 1: sliver of the stuff I've seen or been through. Story ten.
Speaker 1: Cheating has been a part of every relationship I've been in,
Speaker 1: whether I'm cheating or with someone who's cheating on their partner.
Speaker 1: I had a very painful few years of grieving and
Speaker 1: growing pains trying to reconcile this with who I am
Speaker 1: and who I want to be. People like and respect
Speaker 1: me in normal life. I make friends easily and am
Speaker 1: always noted as an especially inten diligent high performer in
Speaker 1: academic and professional spaces. Whether that's true or not as debatable.
Speaker 1: I often question it myself, but it sticks with me,
Speaker 1: especially since I'm going to start a career as a
Speaker 1: social worker. We make a commitment through our education and
Speaker 1: service to be moral, ethical people. I got back with
Speaker 1: an ex I cheated on and have been with him
Speaker 1: again for a year now. He knows everything, every little
Speaker 1: bad thing I've ever done to him and to others,
Speaker 1: and he still loves and accepts me. And he did
Speaker 1: this without compromising his boundaries and has given me the
Speaker 1: space to explore my own. It took a year of
Speaker 1: separation to get to this point. In the summer, I'll
Speaker 1: be moving across the country for work, but he's not
Speaker 1: coming with me, and we're not doing long distance. I
Speaker 1: used to be terrified of becoming that person again, and
Speaker 1: I felt the worst shame of my life when I
Speaker 1: cheated on him. This last year has been peace and
Speaker 1: I genuinely feel changed. I don't hate myself anymore. I'm
Speaker 1: still learning the line between being honest with others and
Speaker 1: holding back on telling them about me, since showing your
Speaker 1: worst parts too early can sow the seeds of doom
Speaker 1: for the relationship. But I try to stay honest with
Speaker 1: myself about what I want and need. But I'm afraid
Speaker 1: of becoming that person again. When I leave and he's
Speaker 1: not there every day, I'm afraid of what I'll do
Speaker 1: the next time I'm lonely again. I actually feel very
Speaker 1: close to Dexter from the TV show the idea of
Speaker 1: reconciling his dark passenger and what it means to change
Speaker 1: and grow for someone after you've already hurt them. Story eleven.
Speaker 1: That I spend hours talking to AI chatbots for intimate
Speaker 1: role play and so on, but also for companionship and therapy.
Speaker 1: People would think I am insane. Story twelve. I'm a
Speaker 1: covert narcissist. I fly under the radar because I'm an
Speaker 1: extremely generous person and do a lot to not appear arrogant,
Speaker 1: so I can maintain a humble facade. I seem very
Speaker 1: kind and genuine, but I'm actually incredibly calculated. I love
Speaker 1: giving people gifts or little tokens of gratitude because it
Speaker 1: helps my image. Sure it does make me happy to
Speaker 1: see how they light up, but mostly I'm strengthening my
Speaker 1: image and making them feel somehow indebted to me, so
Speaker 1: when I need something later, they feel like they need
Speaker 1: to repay me for the good things I've done for them.
Speaker 1: For example, I'm openly petty, but most people don't realize
Speaker 1: just how petty I am. I got someone in a
Speaker 1: discord server to get themselves banned because of how meticulously
Speaker 1: I cyber bully them. No one suspected me of doing anything,
Speaker 1: but that person absolutely knew what I was doing. People
Speaker 1: respected me too much to think I would do such
Speaker 1: a thing. What's even crazier is I can tell people
Speaker 1: about my bullying campaigns, but my facade is so strong
Speaker 1: I can convince others I was in the right for
Speaker 1: what I did, and what crime did this person commit
Speaker 1: that made me go so insane? You ask they were
Speaker 1: kind of annoying. That's it. They were annoying and an
Speaker 1: attention seeker, and I wanted them gone from the community
Speaker 1: I was endeared to, so I chased them out and
Speaker 1: made myself look like the victim. I fully recognized I
Speaker 1: was in the wrong for this, and that I should
Speaker 1: feel a sense of guilt or shame, but eh, I
Speaker 1: am psychologically incapable of feeling guilty for what I did.
Speaker 1: Story thirteen. I have a deeply personal fixation that I've
Speaker 1: struggled with for a long time. If I feel a
Speaker 1: strong attraction to a woman in my life, I sometimes
Speaker 1: find myself drawn to their scent, especially through intimate items
Speaker 1: of clothing. It's something that's become an intense obsession, and
Speaker 1: while I've tried to resist it, I often fall back
Speaker 1: into the habit. My wife is aware that I have
Speaker 1: this inclination when it comes to her, but no one
Speaker 1: else knows the extent of it. I carry a lot
Speaker 1: of shame around this and have been trying to understand
Speaker 1: it better and work through it in a healthier way.
Speaker 1: Story fourteen. I think the only thing I can truly
Speaker 1: say is that I believe I'm completely unlovable. I'm a
Speaker 1: six feet one inch female and haven't been in any
Speaker 1: long term relationships. I have so much anxiety that every
Speaker 1: little thing terrifies me so much. I'm stuck in a
Speaker 1: spot where I think I'm absolutely worth nothing to everyone
Speaker 1: around me. Not only that, but because of all of
Speaker 1: the trauma I've gone through, I cannot trust a singular
Speaker 1: living soul at all, and that includes animals. I physically
Speaker 1: cannot bring myself to trust another person, and because of that,
Speaker 1: I'm more alone than I believe. A lot of people
Speaker 1: find me to be extremely intimidating because of my height,
Speaker 1: but I'm absolutely freaking terrified of what they're thinking, and
Speaker 1: half the time I think I'm hearing their thoughts in
Speaker 1: my head. Unrelated, but another thing that I've definitely noticed
Speaker 1: made people change so not really a secret, is that
Speaker 1: I can see the future in my dreams. Not important
Speaker 1: moments or anything, just random snippets of my life that
Speaker 1: hit me with a deja vous when they occur. Story fifteen.
Speaker 1: I project calmness and serenity, but my head is dying inside.
Speaker 1: It's impossible to put it out onto other people. It's
Speaker 1: like OCD or something. But the amount of control it
Speaker 1: takes for me to be normal is not normal. I'm
Speaker 1: pretty sure people have probably picked up on this, but
Speaker 1: I say so little and can gray rock quite well
Speaker 1: because of abusive family members, so maybe they haven't. I
Speaker 1: do smile a lot, but I'm getting better at no
Speaker 1: not smiling all the time, because most of the time
Speaker 1: it feels fake. Really, I think people are afraid to
Speaker 1: correct my virtuous qualities and tell me I can be
Speaker 1: a little more lackadaisical, because really I have exterior virtues,
Speaker 1: but inside I am in a constant existential crisis. I
Speaker 1: blame my religious trauma story sixteen. Even though I talk
Speaker 1: about it, I don't think my friends realize how hard
Speaker 1: it is for me to socialize. I don't dislike it.
Speaker 1: I just tend to overthink about it a lot before, during,
Speaker 1: and afterwards, and it takes a lot out of me.
Speaker 1: We often joke about how hard it is to offend me,
Speaker 1: but in reality, I'm just surprised they even put up
Speaker 1: with me. I rarely initiate interactions, and I feel like
Speaker 1: they're already doing me a favor by including me. I
Speaker 1: can't really talk about it because then I wouldn't be
Speaker 1: able to tell if they really want to hang out
Speaker 1: with me, or if they're just trying to cheer me
Speaker 1: up and I wouldn't know how to make it up
Speaker 1: to them. Story seventeen. I was essayed by a girlfriend
Speaker 1: years ago. Almost no one knows. I'm six feet and
Speaker 1: one hundred and eighty pounds. I do construction for a living.
Speaker 1: I can't tell anyone. I don't even tell girl friends
Speaker 1: the few I've had since she was five feet seven
Speaker 1: and ninety pounds. People either would think I'm weak or
Speaker 1: I'm lying. The reality was I couldn't make myself hit
Speaker 1: her to get her to stop because I didn't want
Speaker 1: to hurt her, which I know is just beyond messed up.
Speaker 1: But I loved her. I think about it every day
Speaker 1: at some point. Story eighteen. Not a secret per se,
Speaker 1: just something I wouldn't bring up and wouldn't feel comfortable admitting,
Speaker 1: though I do tend to be compulsively open if people
Speaker 1: happen to ask the right questions. But basically, on the surface,
Speaker 1: I'm a very kind, rational and friendly guy. Not to
Speaker 1: toot my own horn, but it's something I more or
Speaker 1: less maintain with everyone, and virtually every one I know
Speaker 1: would struggle to criticize me on my manner and form.
Speaker 1: But in the past I had some mental health issues
Speaker 1: and have struggled with overwhelming and horrible intrusive thoughts, and
Speaker 1: in certain circumstances, these intrusive thoughts took me to some
Speaker 1: pretty dark places, not necessarily to the point of committing
Speaker 1: actions that were impossible to step back from, but definitely
Speaker 1: being a rather brutal and heinous person. And parallel to that,
Speaker 1: while I now and for many years have been an
Speaker 1: absolute pacifist and strongly avoid conflict, I have had and
Speaker 1: still have deep and occasionally implacable anger issues, anger so
Speaker 1: freaked up that it's borderline still psychotic. I've gotten good
Speaker 1: at handling it in the sense that I haven't let
Speaker 1: it break out for many, many years, but often when
Speaker 1: conflict arises, I can especially feel it still there, deep,
Speaker 1: turgid and raging below the surface, just hoping to break out,
Speaker 1: like another side of me that's flipped under the surface
Speaker 1: and just hoping to show itself. It's why I avoid
Speaker 1: and try to de escalate conflicts at all costs, and
Speaker 1: part of it is still the remnants of those twisted thoughts,
Speaker 1: furious anger, and undeniable and heavy sadism. I guess to clarify.
Speaker 1: If people knew about my past and the things I've
Speaker 1: been involved in, and the consistent precariousness of my mental
Speaker 1: state in various situations, I doubt they'd ever feel truly
Speaker 1: comfortable around me. Story nineteen. I want to leave this
Speaker 1: world for good. I care for disabled parents. I have
Speaker 1: three and d teens who are all having a very
Speaker 1: hard time in life, and I have significant IMH issues ADHD,
Speaker 1: suspected fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and hypersomnia from brain damage. Everything
Speaker 1: is hard, and I hate existing most of the time.
Speaker 1: I can't end myself because my husband would have to
Speaker 1: care for everyone alone, and that's not fair. My siblings
Speaker 1: don't help with my parents, so that would be all
Speaker 1: on him. Also, it freaks kids up when their parents
Speaker 1: off themselves, so I can't do that to them. I
Speaker 1: kept thinking last year, the only way out of this
Speaker 1: is to take us all out, my parents, my husband,
Speaker 1: and my children. No more struggling, no more suffering. I
Speaker 1: told my friend who is a therapist, and she laughed
Speaker 1: it off. I don't think she understood how close I
Speaker 1: was to taking that seriously. I have been inactively wanting
Speaker 1: to pass away for about five years and wrote a
Speaker 1: goodbye letter once. The joys and they are glorious in
Speaker 1: my life do not outweigh the pain. Story twenty I
Speaker 1: have complex PTSD with loads and loads of toxic shame.
Speaker 1: My brain is constantly beating me up and telling me
Speaker 1: that I hate myself. I experience hypervigilance and often stay
Speaker 1: in that state when I'm around groups of people. I'm
Speaker 1: very quiet and keep to myself. Everyone knows I'm different,
Speaker 1: everyone likes me, but I'm always excluded and I'm an outsider.
Speaker 1: I just don't fit in anywhere and never have. Story
Speaker 1: twenty one. If people knew how much I constantly feel
Speaker 1: like I'm not enough no matter what I achieve, I
Speaker 1: think they'd see me differently. I seem laid back and confident,
Speaker 1: but inside I'm over analyzing everything, second guessing myself, wondering
Speaker 1: if I messed up. I've always felt like I have
Speaker 1: to keep it together, especially as a guy, show no weakness,
Speaker 1: but it's exhausting. Most days. I feel like I'm just
Speaker 1: performing a version of myself that people expect. If they
Speaker 1: saw the doubt and anxiety behind it all, I don't
Speaker 1: think they'd know what to do with it. Maybe they
Speaker 1: wouldn't even believe it. Story twenty two. I have brain
Speaker 1: tumors and will likely be totally deaf before I'm thirty five.
Speaker 1: My immediate family knows, and I told a few friends
Speaker 1: in the past, but we don't really talk anymore. I
Speaker 1: found out really quickly that when I talk about it,
Speaker 1: all I get is the panicked, oh my god, you're
Speaker 1: dying look, quickly followed by the oh you poor young
Speaker 1: thing pity manners. Honestly, I hate them both, so I
Speaker 1: just don't tell anyone, not at work, not with friends,
Speaker 1: definitely not extended family members. Story twenty three former fit
Speaker 1: guy who gained some weight and is secretly happier. I,
Speaker 1: fortyish male, have put on about thirty pounds of weight
Speaker 1: since the pandemic in twenty twenty. I stopped working out,
Speaker 1: but I still play lots of sports every week. I
Speaker 1: feel more confident with my paunch belly than when I
Speaker 1: had ABS. I know I receive mixed reactions, but I
Speaker 1: think I generally receive more interest from both women and men.
Speaker 1: I'm by with my current dad bod physique. I know
Speaker 1: others have asked if I'm okay because of the weight gain.
Speaker 1: And I'm not sure how to answer that. My priorities
Speaker 1: have changed in life, and I've allowed myself to enjoy living, eating, drinking,
Speaker 1: et cetera. Although I've cut down on consuming alcohol and
Speaker 1: have been eating a lot healthier, I also enjoy my
Speaker 1: bigger self. I feel like society wants me to feel
Speaker 1: shame Story twenty four. I was physically hurt and neglected
Speaker 1: growing up. Have an ACE score of eight, and it
Speaker 1: profoundly impacts every interaction I have with everyone. Every day.
Speaker 1: I become paralyzed with fear if I think someone might
Speaker 1: be angry with me, and I avoid them at all costs.
Speaker 1: I tried desperately to earn love and see anything short
Speaker 1: of an overwhelmingly positive response as a sign of total rejection.
Speaker 1: I'm desperate to please because I'm terrified that if I don't,
Speaker 1: nobody will ever love me and they might hurt me
Speaker 1: from the outside. I'm just a nice, helpful guy who
Speaker 1: goes out of his way to make people happy. The
Speaker 1: few people I've tried to talk about this with have
Speaker 1: laughed it off as no big deal or a sympathy play.
Speaker 1: But chat GPT discussions have me pretty convinced that it's
Speaker 1: not normal to be harmed and restrained by an alcoholic
Speaker 1: and his depressed girlfriend, or to have a parent screaming
Speaker 1: at you every morning about being a worthless piece of crap,
Speaker 1: or to start to think to end myself ideation at
Speaker 1: seven or eight years old. It took a chatbot nearly
Speaker 1: forty years later to understand how the coping mechanisms I
Speaker 1: learned as a child have been sabotaging any real relationships
Speaker 1: I try to maintain today. Story twenty five. I struggled
Speaker 1: with homicidal ideation, and the only people who know about
Speaker 1: this are my therapist and one of my friends. I
Speaker 1: never had the urge to hurt animals. I hate to
Speaker 1: see animals suffer. I just held a lot of hatred
Speaker 1: towards those who have been major sources of my suffering,
Speaker 1: and that hatred slowly turned into thoughts of checking those
Speaker 1: people out. Even though I don't want to harm them anymore,
Speaker 1: I still believe I have valid reasons to want to.
Speaker 1: That whole explanation would be a little too long for here.
Speaker 1: I have also come to learn that those people are
Speaker 1: not worth my time or energy. I don't tell other
Speaker 1: people in my life about this, for obvious reasons. Those
Speaker 1: close to me know I am pretty quick to anger,
Speaker 1: but they also know I am very quick to deal
Speaker 1: with it. They probably have seen the signs, but I
Speaker 1: would probably be perceived as less than if more people
Speaker 1: were to know this about me. Story twenty six. To
Speaker 1: most people, I'm very sweet, bubbly, and upbeat. I am
Speaker 1: extremely kind and gentle to almost everyone in my life,
Speaker 1: for they are family, friends or strangers. But I actually
Speaker 1: have borderline personality disorder, and hardly anyone ever sees that
Speaker 1: I have a complete polar opposite side to me. I
Speaker 1: become filled with rage, uncontrollable outbursts of anger, crying until
Speaker 1: I can't breathe, every night, unable to leave the house,
Speaker 1: and my emotions switch from one extreme to the next constantly.
Speaker 1: This only happens in front of those I am very
Speaker 1: close with or comfortable with, and it's almost always a
Speaker 1: romantic partner. It's hard to live with. Story twenty seven.
Speaker 1: I have OCD. I go to regular therapy for it,
Speaker 1: and sometimes I come to work exhausted from exposure response prevention.
Speaker 1: I struggle with anxiety and depression. I'm the glue that
Speaker 1: holds the department together at work. I think If anyone
Speaker 1: knew how much I struggle to hold my life together,
Speaker 1: my co workers would be astonished. I've not told any
Speaker 1: one but my spows that I have this disorder story
Speaker 1: twenty eight. Probably the fact that I've been essayed by
Speaker 1: almost every one I've been with. My current partner just
Speaker 1: doesn't tend to notice when I freeze and can't speak
Speaker 1: or push when I say want to say no. I
Speaker 1: don't remember what happens most nights, but I know he's
Speaker 1: doing it. My ex never took no for an answer.
Speaker 1: He just did it without any remorse for my physical
Speaker 1: and mental health. I had an old coworker when I
Speaker 1: was sixteen that I had intimate relations with. He pushed
Speaker 1: and pushed. He was twenty seven. I had another coworker
Speaker 1: try to buy intimate time with me from me while
Speaker 1: his wife was in the hospital literally dying. I was
Speaker 1: essayed at a young age old by a friend of
Speaker 1: my parents who was in his fifties. I don't know
Speaker 1: if it's me doing something wrong. I'm repulsed by intimacy now.
Speaker 1: I hate looking at me myself because all I see
Speaker 1: is someone who can only be loved by doing it.
Speaker 1: I feel like something is wrong with me for not
Speaker 1: wanting it anymore. Story twenty nine. With all due respect,
Speaker 1: I know some people might criticize me for saying this,
Speaker 1: but here's my truth. Sometimes the idea of family unity
Speaker 1: just doesn't exist. The moment parents pass on, many siblings
Speaker 1: start fighting over the things their parents worked so hard
Speaker 1: to earn with love and sacrifice. Sadly, even grandparents aren't
Speaker 1: exempt from this pattern. If you're in a toxic family
Speaker 1: environment and you've had enough, I'm not wishing harm on anyone,
Speaker 1: but when the time comes, leave, create your own peace,
Speaker 1: build your own home. It might take years before relatives
Speaker 1: even speak to each other again, let alone come together
Speaker 1: for a simple photo. And if people think I'm the
Speaker 1: bad one for speaking up, so be it. It hurts,
Speaker 1: but that's their perception. What truly bothers me is the
Speaker 1: lack of respect for those who have passed. It's disgraceful
Speaker 1: how some people treat the dead without understanding the value
Speaker 1: of life itself. Life teaches lessons and karma eventually finds
Speaker 1: its way. Disrespecting the departed only reflects poorly on the
Speaker 1: living Story thirty I have maladaptive daydreaming. I mean, I'm
Speaker 1: not diagnosed, but it's really quite obvious as I know
Speaker 1: what goes on in my head isn't normal. Like I
Speaker 1: always imagine characters from any type of media that I
Speaker 1: like and imagine them reacting to the real world. It's
Speaker 1: been like this since I was at least eight or
Speaker 1: nine years old. I never got diagnosed because I don't
Speaker 1: tell anyone. I keep it completely to myself. My family
Speaker 1: doesn't know and my friends don't know. I usually get
Speaker 1: through my day normally I just imagine the characters just
Speaker 1: following me around. But it gets so bad that if
Speaker 1: I'm alone and do something embarrassing, I'll get embarrassed because
Speaker 1: the characters in my head witnessed it. Sometimes I really
Speaker 1: wish it would stop, but most of the time I
Speaker 1: don't mind them. I get too scared to see a
Speaker 1: psychologist or something because of one bad experience I had
Speaker 1: when I tried. Not like anything bad happened, but I
Speaker 1: didn't really click with them, and I don't want to
Speaker 1: waste my time or their time, and waste my money
Speaker 1: for something that's not going to work. My mental health
Speaker 1: hasn't been very good, to say the least. Story thirty one.
Speaker 1: This is different from everyone else's, but I'm so much
Speaker 1: hornier than I let on. When I reveal my fantasy
Speaker 1: to people, this leads to two things. Either they stop
Speaker 1: being my friend because it's too odd, or they become
Speaker 1: someone I can trust deeply because they're okay with it.
Speaker 1: I don't tell many people. I let them find out instead,
Speaker 1: and fear them finding out because I hate losing friends
Speaker 1: or making people turn against me. I don't even trust
Speaker 1: my family with information like this, not because they're bad
Speaker 1: or anything. My mom especially is lovely, but that they'll
Speaker 1: go into a long talk about how it's not appropriate
Speaker 1: and that kind of stuff. I tend to just block
Speaker 1: it out because I don't like other people telling me
Speaker 1: what to like, especially if I know not everyone hates it.
Speaker 1: I love to ask people questions about clothes being alive,
Speaker 1: which weirds people out, so I tend to keep it
Speaker 1: to myself. The more people I tell who just distance
Speaker 1: themselves causes me to hate that part of myself, so
Speaker 1: I just tend to not tell anyone. So that makes
Speaker 1: the people who are okay with it pretty much part
Speaker 1: of my inner circle immediately entirely, because being okay with
Speaker 1: that is the final trust related barrier to being friends
Speaker 1: with me. This is why I'm more comfortable around sexually
Speaker 1: active people, because they make me feel less self conscious
Speaker 1: about my own weirdness. My boyfriend solves pretty much all
Speaker 1: of these issues. He more sexually active than me. We
Speaker 1: trust each other a lot, and as a result, he's
Speaker 1: one of the few people I genuinely care about. So yeah,
Speaker 1: life is great, Story thirty two. Honestly, I feel like
Speaker 1: I am a very bad guy. Like I analyze my
Speaker 1: thoughts and stuff, and I am pretty sure I would
Speaker 1: be a very bad guy if I ran rampant. You
Speaker 1: know that meme I stopped a lethal incident today. How
Speaker 1: self control? I'm pretty sure that might apply to me sometimes.
Speaker 1: And it's not even like I might do it in
Speaker 1: revenge on someone, but more like to see if I
Speaker 1: can get away with it, or to know what it's
Speaker 1: like to take life of someone. Sort Of hugely jealous
Speaker 1: of some friends too, like why do they get better
Speaker 1: opportunities than me when they don't do anything? A bit
Speaker 1: happy that I am above them if they ever fail
Speaker 1: at something could be stress, could be depression, Like I
Speaker 1: don't know why I am like that. Maybe I am
Speaker 1: a naturally selfish and dark person. Though I don't think
Speaker 1: I will actually ever do it. I am a huge
Speaker 1: nerd anime, manga, novels, and K drama. I watch a
Speaker 1: lot of entertainment, and I know how bad those kinds
Speaker 1: of people are, and it makes me a little self
Speaker 1: disgusted that my thoughts, if I don't consciously reel them in,
Speaker 1: are like those black characters, which at this moment is
Speaker 1: kind of the only thing stopping me. And maybe a
Speaker 1: little bit because I do care about my reputation. One
Speaker 1: good thing is it does make me do good things
Speaker 1: around me, even if it's just for the case of
Speaker 1: showing off or to prove myself like I can be
Speaker 1: good too if I want so. Yeah, that's my secret.
Speaker 1: Don't really care if you downvote me. Feel a bit
Speaker 1: glad that I vented. Also, I kind of want to
Speaker 1: high that there is a slight benefit to having entertainment
Speaker 1: if done right actually tells people right from wrong. Story
Speaker 1: thirty three. I've mistreated partners in the past without even
Speaker 1: realizing I was, and never felt remorse for any of
Speaker 1: it because I literally cannot. I wish I could, but
Speaker 1: I cannot feel guilt or empathy whatsoever. I have cluster
Speaker 1: by disorders that were untreated at the time, and I
Speaker 1: thought the way I acted was completely normal due to
Speaker 1: how I was raised. After meeting my current BF and
Speaker 1: his family, I realized that the way I acted was
Speaker 1: actually not normal. I'm in a lot of therapy now
Speaker 1: to try to be a better person, and I still
Speaker 1: have bad moments. Nobody except two of my friends knows
Speaker 1: about it. Many people that know me have described me
Speaker 1: as meek or a very friendly, slash kind person. I'm
Speaker 1: terrified of people finding out about who I really am.
Speaker 1: In my past story thirty four, I'm by and the
Speaker 1: reason I don't tell anyone is because it would be
Speaker 1: made into a massive deal. I was brought up being
Speaker 1: told I was physically disgusting by my dad and his
Speaker 1: family as a teenager. If I ever even hinted I
Speaker 1: fancied a boy, I'm a woman, they would laugh at me,
Speaker 1: tease me for weeks, make gagging sounds the lot. I'm
Speaker 1: middle aged now, never married, been in love or had
Speaker 1: a happy relationship. A few flings when I was younger,
Speaker 1: a couple of miserable relationships of a couple of years each.
Speaker 1: I'm happy now only have good people in my life,
Speaker 1: but the thought of coming out and everyone making a
Speaker 1: big deal about it triggers me so badly. I might
Speaker 1: tell my kid brother one day, he's gay, very involved
Speaker 1: in the LGBTQ community and would keep it private, and
Speaker 1: maybe one day I might find my person, But to me,
Speaker 1: that's about as likely as me going to the moon
Speaker 1: story thirty five. When I was about thirty, I fell
Speaker 1: in love with someone who was nineteen years older than
Speaker 1: me and married, and he was probably even more in
Speaker 1: love with me than I was with him. Him being
Speaker 1: married was a hard line that I absolutely refused to cross,
Speaker 1: and we both spent years in denial of how we
Speaker 1: felt about each other, but the reality was that we
Speaker 1: knew each other very well and we had adored each other.
Speaker 1: He was absolutely there for me when my father died suddenly.
Speaker 1: He knew when to just listen, when to ask questions,
Speaker 1: and when to talk about something else, and he never
Speaker 1: assumed what I was feeling at any point. My mom
Speaker 1: and grandmother saw how he cared for me over that period,
Speaker 1: and how much calmer he made me, and what an
Speaker 1: incredibly kind and generous person he was, and despite the situation,
Speaker 1: they strongly approved and hoped he'd find his way to me.
Speaker 1: Eighteen months after Dad died, he was applying for jobs
Speaker 1: in my city and planning to leave his wife, and
Speaker 1: then he died suddenly too. He was the absolute love
Speaker 1: of my life. The grief made me want to die
Speaker 1: for several years, and yet I never touched him beyond
Speaker 1: a hug. My closest friends know, but I get a
Speaker 1: lot of judgment even from some of those friends, and
Speaker 1: I have lost friends over it, so I don't talk
Speaker 1: about it anymore. What the people who judge me don't
Speaker 1: realize is that I'll never forgive myself. I'm also too
Speaker 1: scared to date again because I don't know why anyone
Speaker 1: would want me with that in my past, and I
Speaker 1: can't cope with being rejected for it. Story thirty six.
Speaker 1: As a kid, I hadn't learned how to make friends.
Speaker 1: I was very shy and lived in a family where
Speaker 1: alcohol was a daily thing except for my mom. That
Speaker 1: resulted in loneliness, not being able to understand emotions, and
Speaker 1: not knowing why I feel how I feel. When I
Speaker 1: was twelve, I went to the psychologist in my school
Speaker 1: on my own. I only knew that something was wrong
Speaker 1: from that day. I tried everything I could to feel normal,
Speaker 1: have friends, and be happy. It seems like none of
Speaker 1: these things worked, and just after my eighteenth birthday, I
Speaker 1: tried to off myself. To this day, I don't know
Speaker 1: what was going on in my mind. I changed doctors
Speaker 1: many times, went to bonus classes to make friends, tried
Speaker 1: many hobbies, and generally tried everything to find myself. I
Speaker 1: don't know why that didn't work. Even my attempt did
Speaker 1: not work. Maybe I was too scared and not so
Speaker 1: serious about it. After that, I was in psych ward
Speaker 1: for a month. No one knows about it except my mom,
Speaker 1: who was with me all of this time. Story thirty seven.
Speaker 1: I have a form of synesthesia that makes it so
Speaker 1: that I feel everything I hear. I never share this
Speaker 1: with people because it feels self important to do so,
Speaker 1: but it's the reason why people usually think I'm a
Speaker 1: native speaker of whatever language I know a couple of
Speaker 1: words of. It's because I can feel someone's accent in
Speaker 1: my mouth. But it's also the reason I always start
Speaker 1: coughing when I hear someone cough, and others sometimes very
Speaker 1: inconvenient things. Story thirty eight. I'm not who I really
Speaker 1: am whenever I'm around anybody, including family I live with.
Speaker 1: I'm nice, respectful, and all put together. I know who
Speaker 1: I am, what I want, and where I want my
Speaker 1: life to go. But when I'm by myself, man, screw
Speaker 1: all that. I'm a paranoid, anxious, insane ball that can't
Speaker 1: even decide if I should eat or not. I'm portraying
Speaker 1: what I want to be, when in reality, I'll never
Speaker 1: be that. I'll always, to my misfortune be me Story
Speaker 1: thirty nine. Despite my constant smiles, my positive replies, my
Speaker 1: easy going, almost unbothered attitude at work, I'm empty inside, free,
Speaker 1: equently think about eating a bullet. When my friend messaged
Speaker 1: me in my sleep, I woke up half asleep and
Speaker 1: replied with I want to end myself. Immediately fell back asleep.
Speaker 1: Even when my dog died last year, my sole reason
Speaker 1: for even getting up in the afternoons. I went to
Speaker 1: work that night. When people asked how my day was,
Speaker 1: I forced a smile and nodded my head. Almost every
Speaker 1: day I think about how shocking it is that I'm
Speaker 1: still here. I didn't think i'd make it past eighteen.
Speaker 1: I'm twenty six. People don't know that. Every day, despite
Speaker 1: my silly personality, I want to eat a bullet. My
Speaker 1: family isn't perfect, but their family none the less. Sometimes
Speaker 1: I wish I didn't have them so I could truly
Speaker 1: stop living without any regrets. Story forty I'm a teacher.
Speaker 1: I'm good at my job objectively speaking, I do my
Speaker 1: best to make learning fun and engaging, and my classes
Speaker 1: make progress. I'm popular among pupils and other staff members.
Speaker 1: The secret I really don't like kids, and I think
Speaker 1: I like them less every year. Story forty one. I
Speaker 1: was mistreated right from my childhood till my twenties in
Speaker 1: my home until I ran away from my home for
Speaker 1: a job. No one knows it as now. I'm always
Speaker 1: happy in front of people, and they assume me to
Speaker 1: be a strong person, whereas I cry silently at night.
Speaker 1: My childhood friends knew I would cry easily at the
Speaker 1: smallest trigger, but they always used to be surprised how
Speaker 1: I dealt with major issues at hand whenever they would cry.
Speaker 1: This later developed anxiety in my mid twenties, where I
Speaker 1: would have trust issues while meeting any new person, and
Speaker 1: I would always make sure if anyone around me was
Speaker 1: silently suffering and needed help, because I didn't get the
Speaker 1: help I deserved at that time, just because I chose
Speaker 1: to not be vocal about it, Story forty two. There
Speaker 1: are days when the weight of life feels unbearable, and
Speaker 1: I quietly look for ways to escape it, not in
Speaker 1: a dramatic or obvious way, but in a way that
Speaker 1: just ends the pain. Still, I'm here, and the main
Speaker 1: reason is my daughter. She's young, innocent, and completely unaware
Speaker 1: that she's the threat I'm holding onto. A couple of
Speaker 1: years ago, everything began to unravel. My partner, the mother
Speaker 1: of my child, left me, not just emotionally, but financially
Speaker 1: and spiritually. She pursued a fantasy rooted in being mistreated,
Speaker 1: something we had once explored consensually together but now feels
Speaker 1: like a deep betrayal. After our daughter was born, her
Speaker 1: postpartum experience took a sharp turn. She took our money
Speaker 1: and moved into a place that's twice the cost of
Speaker 1: where we were living in the already expensive Boston area. Then,
Speaker 1: to make matters worse, she painted me as someone I'm
Speaker 1: not a villain, an animal to justify it all. As
Speaker 1: if that wasn't enough. Just two months before our daughter arrived,
Speaker 1: my father, a respected attorney, was diagnosed with aggressive dementia.
Speaker 1: He's now mentally operating at the level of a five
Speaker 1: or six year old. His new wife, who I believe
Speaker 1: is more interested in his assets than his well being,
Speaker 1: manipulated the situation and had me removed as his power
Speaker 1: of attorney, replacing me with herself for both health and
Speaker 1: legal authority. Feel like I'm drowning in grief, betrayal, and helplessness.
Speaker 1: My heart is broken in more ways than I can count.
Speaker 1: Some days I can barely breathe. But through all this darkness,
Speaker 1: my daughter remains my light. She's the reason I get up,
Speaker 1: the reason I keep breathing. I just hope that light
Speaker 1: stays strong enough for me to hold on to Story
Speaker 1: forty three. People see me as a warm, optimistic, confident,
Speaker 1: an outgoing person, and a person who loves herself very much, everyone,
Speaker 1: my parents, teachers, and friends. I work out a lot,
Speaker 1: six days a week at the gym, recently started doing
Speaker 1: Mui Thai control my diet, have a relatively fit body,
Speaker 1: and love treating myself here and there. I'm also studying
Speaker 1: health care with a passion for helping people in need,
Speaker 1: which is my dream career. But sometimes I just want
Speaker 1: to live myself. You would never end yourself. You're too happy.
Speaker 1: A friend once told me, I don't know. I love
Speaker 1: my life, but sometimes I feel like I did all
Speaker 1: that just to live up to the reputation of a happy,
Speaker 1: energetic person. It's not like the people around me aren't supportive.
Speaker 1: I just couldn't tell them that I actually don't like
Speaker 1: working out, hated drinking coffee, and I'm low key depressed.
Speaker 1: And some days I just have the urge to jump
Speaker 1: when I'm waiting for the train. Am I stressed? No,
Speaker 1: not really, or maybe I am. I don't actually know.
Speaker 1: But life is still good. I still experience happiness when
Speaker 1: I see people I love are happy. I'm going through
Speaker 1: a rough relationship right now. One of my friends is
Speaker 1: also in the same boat, so I got a stuffed
Speaker 1: toy for her. Listening to her vent she's happy. I'm
Speaker 1: happy to as if I am caring, but with a
Speaker 1: selfish intent. I still want off myself sometimes, but I
Speaker 1: will never do it because people around me would be sad.
Speaker 1: But if I got the chance to sacrifice my life
Speaker 1: to save a person, I would do it without hesitation.
Speaker 1: Maybe the way I love people is the way I
Speaker 1: want to be loved. Story forty four that I have
Speaker 1: bipolar with psychotic features. I'm medicated to the point of
Speaker 1: my symptoms being mostly managed, and I'm in therapy. I
Speaker 1: do do the suburban mom thing with the kids and
Speaker 1: the dog and the broken wooden fence. Whenever people do
Speaker 1: manage to become close enough to find out, I always
Speaker 1: see the shift in their eyes. There always is a
Speaker 1: new shiny fleck of pity or fear in them. I
Speaker 1: hate it. Thank you for watching. If you enjoyed this video,
Speaker 1: be sure to give it a thumbs up, Subscribe and
Speaker 1: hit the bell icon so you never miss an update.