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Use the catalog.

I don't even know what number we're on

Previous thread >>>/feels/120288

i was proposed to but there are a lot of red flags and i’m really having some doubts. for starters it was an impulse proposal and i wouldn’t have wanted my engagement photos where i was dressed the way i was. he let me leave the house looking like absolute shit and only posted the ugliest photo. the other photos i don’t have a double chin. other girls have best friends that take them to do nails and secretly get them ready. a female friend was there and knew and didn’t do anything to help me with my appearance beforehand. he bought the rings there. i don’t know if he thinks i’m fat but my ring is sized so poorly i can’t wear it and we’ve been turned down so far at the shops we’ve taken the rings to because they don’t work with cheap metal or rings they didn’t sell there. like it’s not a size too big it’s dangling off my finger and i have no idea why he thought my finger would be so huge it makes me want to cry. my friends are all furious for me. he doesn’t make that much money it’s true but he could have gotten me a real ring. and then i came home. and i found out his ex got proposed to the same day. the same. day. and she had been aware of it and had a spa day with her friends and a gorgeous engagement shoot and party with loved ones. and it’s not even her real engagement party. hes talking about whether or not i think she’ll send him the announcement “to rub it in”. they have mutual friends and i can’t help wonder if my engagement was a last minute response to her engagement so he could post ours first? she had a professional photographer and mailed out announcements before she posted online about it. my engagement photo shoot was also an impulse - we were on a walk with a friend and he snapped some pictures and we called it an engagement shoot. my ex had been talking about his exes prissy snobby etc engagement and i think our friend felt bad for me. since then, he’s disappeared inside himself. he’s on the computer all day. he wouldn’t even pay attention to me right after at my dads birthday party, just sat in a lawn chair in his stupid yellow shirt drinking beer after beer scrolling on his phone occasionally hiding his phone screen trying not to make eye contact with me. we had a talk about it and i said i wasn’t insecure and my friends have been supportive and game with me when he won’t. he got jealous and has been making an effort to join in now and NOW he has a problem with screen time and wants to go out. to places he used to go with his ex or placePost too long. Click here to view the full text.

I feel like I’m rotting inside myself. I feel like every thought I have is wrong, disgusting, embarrassing, but it’s still what I feel and I’m tired of pretending it isn’t. I hate the way I am, but I also can’t stop being this way. I feel so fundamentally broken that I don’t even know where the real me is supposed to be underneath all this mess. It’s like I’m trapped in a mind that keeps malfunctioning and the worst part is, some part of me truly believes my reactions make sense even when everyone tells me they don’t.

I hate pretty women. I hate them even though I know that makes me sound bitter and pathetic. I hate that their existence feels like a direct attack on mine. I hate that beauty seems to be the one thing that determines who gets loved easily and who has to beg for scraps. I hate myself for caring about it. I hate myself for watching the world revolve around looks and wishing I had something worth orbiting.

I hate that I’m not beautiful. I hate that I’m not even average. I hate that I look in the mirror and feel this immediate drop. Like my face is proof that I’ll never be wanted the way I want to be. I hate my body. I hate even existing physically. I feel like if I weren’t this ugly, my mind wouldn’t torture me like this. I know it’s irrational but I can’t shake it. Nothing helps. Not therapy, not logic, not comparison. Nothing.

I hate the way men look at women. I hate how casual they are about it. I hate how normal it is. I hate that it hurts me so deeply I can barely breathe sometimes. I hate how I feel invisible and sick and replaceable the second I realize I’m not the only one they find attractive. Or even find attractive at all. I hate that this is just how they are and I’m expected to be okay with it, to swallow it, to get over it, to not make a scene. But I can’t. It feels like a knife to my heart every time.

And then there’s this humiliating contradiction inside me.. I hate men, but I still want them. I hate the way they treat women, but I still crave their attention. I hate their entitlement, their blunt desire, their wandering eyes. And yet I still want to be the one they look at, the one they crave, the one they can’t get enough of. I feel like an incel, genuinely. Like some delusional, bitter creature screaming into the void about desire and validation and beauty, knowing exactly how pathetic it sounds but unable to stop.

Most people would probably look at the things I say and immediatelyPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Do you plan to remain childless your entire life?

Thread to vent about crazy bpd people you know who have ruined your life or ask for advice on how to deal with them/ understand why they do what they do.

I'll go first. So I stopped talking to the bpd months ago after having had enough of her crazy bullshit, lies and vile skinwalking. I forgot she even existed. All was well. Until all of a sudden, a couple days ago, she contacts my closest and oldest friend out of fucking nowhere, in order to """befriend""" her.

They don't know each other, have nothing in common, live really far away from each other. They have only met each other ONCE.
The only reason they are even aware of each other's existence is because of when I briefly introduced them one day over a year ago (I was on an outing with my friend and bpd happened to be in the area…)

ONE DAY. Not even a whole 24 hours, we were there with bpd for 2 hours max. So bpd has only interacted with my friend for a grand total of 2 hours, over a year ago.

SO WHY THE FUCK IS SHE CONTACTING HER OUT OF NOWHERE? I don't understand? Why? Why now? Why would the bpd, who has an entire life (her own friends, classmates, colleagues, nigel, etc.) contact the closest friend of some chick(me) who hasn't even spoken to her in 3 months? What the fuck does she want?

I don't want this crazy freak to swoop in and steal my one fucking friend… She even seems to be skinwalking me since my friend was gushing about how 'similar' the bpd is to me. That's sickening to think about because last time I spoke to the bpd, I was thinking about how she was just too different from me and insufferable. I didn't even have the heart to tell my friend the truth.

song lyrics

We had a work social today, and the goal was simply to relax and connect with people. Still, it left me with the familiar feeling that my presence somehow makes things more awkward rather than better. Being one of only a handful of women in my IT internship and classes seems to amplify that insecurity. The other women appear confident, approachable, and well-liked, even when they’re shy or socially awkward themselves, and they don’t seem to struggle in the same way.

I can’t help wondering what I’m missing or doing incorrectly. I know I’m not conventionally attractive, and while I try not to dwell on that, it’s hard not to feel as though it puts me at a disadvantage. I’m not seeking romance or attention. Just genuine, low-pressure friendships.

I make an effort to reach out, especially to my female coworkers, but plans rarely materialize on their end, even though they seem close with each other. I’m respectful and well-meaning, even if I come across as a little odd at times. Despite that, it often feels like I’m standing just outside of a group I’m trying to be part of.

I suffer because I'm a conflict prone embarrassing bitch, but also, I feel like it sets me free. Life has no meaning without adversity. It just ends up feeling like constant following rules without any real goal in sight.

I'm actually a bit confused as to why I feel this way, maybe I have a personality disorder. It's an internal conflict: conflicts are tactically bad, yet they are not. Social failure is a loss, yet it isn't (like it's data or smth).
It's like I have to close my eyes on the bad consequences to get the good ones.

Any aesthetic images for this /feel/?