8 Things You Unconsciously Do When Depressed 

Some days, everything feels like it's spiraling out of control. Today was definitely one of those days for me. I woke up with a plan in mind, thinking I'd breeze through the day like it was nothing. But, of course, life had other ideas. From the moment I opened my eyes, it seemed like the universe was throwing little annoyances my way, one after the other.

It started with the usual hustle—trying to juggle a million things at once. And as much as I tried to stay calm, the small things kept piling up. The missed messages, miscommunications, and the feeling of being stretched too thin all hit me hard. It’s like I was running on a short fuse all day.

There were moments when I just wanted to scream into a pillow. Have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you do, it feels like everything and everyone is out to test your patience? Yeah, today was that kind of day for me.

I hate feeling this way, but I also know it’s part of the ebb and flow of life. Some days, we’re on top of the world. Other days, it feels like we’re drowning in frustration. The important thing is acknowledging it. It’s okay to be pissed off. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. What matters is what comes next.

For now, I’m taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reminding myself that tomorrow is a new day. A chance to reset. A chance to do better. But for today? Yeah, I’m pissed—and that’s perfectly fine.

Lately, I've found myself turning to astrology more than I'd like to admit. It started as something fun and lighthearted—reading my horoscope for a little daily insight, checking my birth chart to see if the stars aligned with how I was feeling. But slowly, it became more than that. Now, I find myself looking to astrology for validation, seeking answers to questions I don't even fully understand.

The problem is, the more I rely on it, the more cynical I become. It's almost like I'm waiting for the universe to give me a sign that everything will work out, but it never quite happens the way I expect. Every time something doesn’t align with the "predictions," it throws me off. I start overthinking everything—why isn't my chart matching my reality? What does this mean for my future? Is something wrong with me or my choices?

In some ways, it feels like I'm losing trust in myself. Instead of taking charge of my life, I'm handing over the responsibility to something abstract, like the alignment of the stars. And honestly, it can be exhausting. I spend too much time analyzing and trying to piece together meaning from the cosmos, when maybe I just need to live my life, make decisions, and be okay with the uncertainty.

Astrology has its place—it can be a comforting lens to view the world through. But I’m realizing that relying on it for constant validation only traps me in a cycle of doubt and overthinking. I need to remind myself that while the stars can offer guidance, they don’t have all the answers. At the end of the day, it's up to me to trust my own instincts and make peace with the fact that life won’t always fit neatly into an astrological chart.

Maybe, instead of looking up at the stars for clarity, I need to start looking within.

I swear nothing has caused more problems for me in my life than my inability to say no or turn people down. Soft and empathetic nature costs you a lot

The restaurant was charming, the kind of place you’d only stumble upon if you knew exactly where to look. Warm lights cast a soft glow over the table, and the hum of quiet conversation filled the space. We had been talking about everything—our favorite places to visit, the movies that shaped us, even our love-hate relationship with dating apps. It was one of those nights where everything felt easy. Until the food arrived.

The waiter approached, carefully setting a large, beautifully arranged seafood platter between us. Shrimp, mussels, oysters—the works. The kind of dish that would impress any other date. But for me? It was like watching a horror show unfold in slow motion.

I froze, staring at the plate as my stomach sank. The last time I’d come into contact with seafood, I ended up in the hospital, my throat closing before I could even realize what was happening. The mere sight of it was enough to send my heart racing.

“Everything alright?” he asked, noticing my hesitation.

I glanced up, not wanting to make a scene, but there was no avoiding it.

“Uh… I’m actually allergic to seafood,” I said, my voice quieter than usual.

His eyes widened in shock, and for a split second, I saw the panic flash across his face.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said, his hand immediately going to his forehead like he couldn’t believe his own mistake. “I didn’t even think to ask. I swear I’ll double-check next time!”

I couldn’t help but smile, even as the waiter, who overheard, swiftly took the plate away to replace it with something less life-threatening.

“It’s okay,” I replied, waving it off, though I couldn’t quite hide the nervous laugh that followed. “Happens more often than you’d think.”

He looked relieved, but the guilt still hung in the air. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, his expression sincere.

“No, really, that’s on me. I should’ve asked. I don’t want to accidentally kill you on a first date,” he said with a grin, though the joke barely masked his embarrassment.

I laughed, the tension breaking a little more. “Yeah, that would definitely put a damper on things.”

As we waited for the replacement dish, the conversation flowed again, though with a few seafood-related jokes sprinkled in.

“I’ll be sure to stay far away from shellfish from now on,” he added with a sheepish smile. “You’ve made me rethink my entire seafood-loving existence.”

“Well,” I said, “at least you’ll never forget this date.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No chance. Next time, I’m asking about everything. I’m talking allergies, preferences, zodiac signs—whatever I need to know to avoid another seafood disaster.”

I couldn’t help but be charmed by how quickly he turned the situation around. It wasn’t just that he apologized; it was that he genuinely cared. He wasn’t trying to brush it off or make me feel like I was overreacting. He was thoughtful, and the way he handled it—so effortlessly kind—was something I didn’t expect but appreciated more than I could say.

As the night went on, it became less about the seafood mishap and more about how we laughed through it. That small moment could’ve been awkward or embarrassing, but instead, it brought us closer. His genuine concern and the way he quickly promised to do better next time told me a lot about who he was.

When the new dish finally arrived—this time a seafood-free option—he grinned. “Now, how’s that for a safer choice?”

I smiled back. “Perfect."

The night wrapped up, and as we left the restaurant, the cool breeze brushing past us, I found myself thinking about how one small mistake revealed so much about someone’s character. It wasn’t about avoiding errors or being perfect; it was about how we handle those little bumps along the way.

As we said goodnight, he leaned in and said, “Next time, it’s on me. And I promise, no seafood.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing. “Just steer clear of lobsters, okay?”

We parted ways, and as I walked home, I realized something. It wasn’t the flawless date that stuck with me—it was the way he turned a near disaster into something that felt like the beginning of something real. A small mistake, yes, but one handled with so much care that I couldn’t help but look forward to whatever came next.

attachment issues?

Any good series recommendations besides Reacher?

It was a Sunday afternoon, and I sat at the dinner table with my parents. I had been waiting for this moment—the moment to talk about him. I smiled as I spoke, telling them what a great guy he was. He was kind, thoughtful, hardworking, and, I believed, someone who genuinely cared for me. I was convincing them—convincing myself, really—that I had found someone good.

Little did I know, while I was telling my parents how lucky I was, my phone was buzzing with messages I hadn’t seen yet. Messages that would unravel everything. He had chosen that very moment, when I was trying to paint him in the best possible light, to break me.

When I finally checked my phone later that night, there it was—a breakup in the coldest, most unexpected way. “I don’t think this is working out,” he wrote. As if my heart wasn’t already racing from the excitement of sharing him with my parents, it shattered all over again reading his words.

How could I have been so wrong about him? One minute, I was talking about how wonderful he was; the next, I was realizing that everything I believed had been a lie. It was like a cruel joke the universe was playing on me—the timing, the irony of it all.

I replayed my earlier conversation with my parents in my head, feeling like a fool. I had spent the better part of the afternoon defending someone who wasn’t even fighting for me. I was pouring out words of love and admiration, while he was silently letting go. And the worst part? I never saw it coming.

It’s strange how blind we can be when we’re in love. We see only what we want to see—the good moments, the gentle words, the potential of what could be. I was so caught up in the idea of him that I missed the reality that he wasn’t as invested as I was.

In that moment, I wasn’t just heartbroken over losing him—I was heartbroken over the version of him I had built up in my mind. The version I wanted so badly to be true, the one I was excited to share with my parents. But he wasn’t that guy. Not even close.

As I sat in my room that night, the pain hit me in waves. The disappointment of not just losing someone I loved but also realizing I had been wrong about him hurt deeply. I felt embarrassed, not only because I had just told my parents how wonderful he was, but because I had believed it myself.

But as the days passed, I realized this heartbreak wasn’t just about him. It was about me, too. About how I had let myself settle for someone who wasn’t deserving of the love I had to offer. How I had been so focused on getting others to see his goodness that I forgot to see if he was good for me.

Looking back now, I realize that heartbreak has a way of teaching us the lessons we don’t want to learn. I learned that sometimes the people we think are good for us are the ones who hurt us the most. I learned that it’s okay to be wrong about someone, but it’s not okay to stop trusting yourself because of it.

He may have broken my heart while I was defending his character, but in the end, I’m the one who gets to decide how to pick up the pieces. And next time, I’ll be more careful about who I choose to give those pieces to.

Kinda having some hard time making friends. Have been talking to my family since lockdown and I never checked anybody. This is funny. And I am also scared making friends. When someone tries to talk to me I think I make them bored and at the end I feel stupid and I don’t even know what to talk about haha omg whyyyyyy

And scars are souvenirs you never lose The past is never far

February 16, 2024

I find myself feeling a bit bored and lonely lately. It seems like work has taken over most aspects of my life, and I often crave some time alone to reset and find a sense of peace. Moving on from a heartbreak has proven to be quite challenging, and I genuinely wish no one had to endure the pain that comes with it. It's a difficult emotion to navigate, and sometimes it feels easier to succumb to it rather than fighting against it because it demands to be felt.

Love, as beautiful as it can be, sometimes has an expiration date. There are moments when you're overflowing with love for someone, only to wake up one day realizing that the feelings have changed. It's a tough position to be in, and as one-half of the relationship, letting go becomes the only viable option when it becomes one-sided.

Reflecting on being single, I wonder if it's a stroke of luck. In this state, you can avoid the potential heartache and solely focus on caring for yourself. Enjoying your own company becomes a gift, especially when friends are occupied with their own lives. It's liberating not to worry about upsetting someone just because you didn't get back to their messages. On the other hand, while it can feel lonely at times, I understand that people have their own lives and priorities, and I respect that.

Surprisingly, the highlight of my days is conversing with my therapist. It struck me as amusing that lonely individuals seek solace in paying therapists to listen, and I find myself falling into that category. Loneliness is a challenging emotion, and having someone to talk to about it has become a source of comfort for me.