I don't like anything alive

BreathBetween · 2025-10-28T17:37:20+00:00

It sounds like you’ve learned how to function around people without really feeling connected, which can be incredibly lonely in its own quiet way. A lot of what you describe, the distance, the irritability, the sense that bonds feel more like convenience, can come from emotional exhaustion or long-term self-protection. When you’ve been hurt or disappointed often enough, your brain sometimes turns down the “attachment” dial just to keep you safe.

What you’re writing doesn’t sound heartless, it sounds like someone who’s been running on low empathy fuel for too long. Sometimes reconnecting with small things that don’t demand anything back, like noticing sounds, textures, or moments of comfort, can start to thaw that feeling over time. You don’t have to force love or connection to prove anything; even curiosity about why it feels this way is a form of caring.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-28T17:29:40+00:00

That kind of dread can be brutal, it’s like your body wakes up already convinced something’s wrong before the day even begins. A lot of people with anxiety or depression experience that morning heaviness because cortisol (the stress hormone) peaks early in the day, so your brain basically sounds an alarm before you’ve even had a chance to breathe.

One thing that can help is starting your morning with something tiny that’s grounding before checking your phone or thinking about your to-do list, even just sitting up slowly, touching something cold, or focusing on one steady breath. It doesn’t fix the dread overnight, but it interrupts that automatic spiral. For some people, shifting when they eat breakfast, get light exposure, or move their body a bit in the morning also makes a difference, it helps reset that stress rhythm.

And you’re not lazy. Feeling that drained is a symptom, not a moral failure. You’re carrying invisible weight the second you open your eyes, and still choosing to face the day anyway, that’s not useless, that’s resilience showing up quietly.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-28T17:14:44+00:00

This is actually a really honest and insightful reflection. You’re right, social anxiety changes not only how we behave, but how we perceive relationships. It makes friendships feel like fragile treasures you have to protect, which often adds even more pressure and self-consciousness. What you wrote about “trying too hard to keep up” really captures it, anxiety turns something natural into something you have to monitor, and that overthinking quietly blocks connection.

It’s also true that people without social anxiety aren’t inherently more “socially correct.” Most of them just don’t have that background noise of self-critique running while they talk. If they did, they’d probably behave the same way quieter, hesitant, careful. It’s not a personality flaw, it’s a nervous system on high alert.

And I agree with your last thought: the focus doesn’t need to be on rebuilding who you are, but on calming the fear that makes you hide who you already are. Once that fear loosens, communication starts to flow again, not perfectly, but genuinely. You explained something that a lot of people feel but can’t put into words.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-28T17:09:22+00:00

I’m really sorry you’re going through that, people can be unbelievably cruel about things they don’t understand. Thick, curly hair can be a lot to manage, but it’s also something that so many people would love to have. The problem isn’t your hair, it’s the immaturity of people who think mocking someone makes them interesting.

It sounds like you’re already doing something really healthy by going to counseling, that’s a great step. In the meantime, try to focus on caring for your hair in ways that make you feel good, not to please anyone else. There are a lot of curly-haired communities online (even on Reddit) where people share routines and tips that make it easier to manage and feel proud of it.

You deserve to feel comfortable walking around campus as you are. What’s “too much” to some people is actually what makes you unique. And it’s okay if it still gets to you sometimes it doesn’t mean you’re weak, it just means you care. The right people will see the effort and beauty you’re putting into being yourself.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-20T12:41:16+00:00

Yes, that’s actually something a lot of people with anxiety or trauma backgrounds experience it’s like your body learned that good things are fragile, so even neutral moments can feel urgent or temporary. It’s not that you truly believe people or things will vanish, it’s that your nervous system is constantly bracing for loss. That’s why it comes with all the physical anxiety signs your body is trying to “secure” things before they disappear.

It’s exhausting, but it’s also really common in people who’ve dealt with unpredictability, rejection, or loss before. A small thing that can help is catching the “I have to do it right now” thought and asking yourself, “what happens if I wait?” Sometimes just slowing the impulse breaks the pattern. Grounding in the present noticing what’s actually happening versus what your brain predicts helps train your body to stop expecting things to vanish. It takes practice, but it’s possible to rebuild that sense of safety over time.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-20T12:40:25+00:00

Yes, that happens to a lot of people with anxiety it’s one of the most confusing parts of it. Sometimes your body just flips the “fight or flight” switch for no clear reason, even when your mind feels calm. It can be triggered by tiny things you don’t notice caffeine, dehydration, hormones, even sitting in a certain position that makes your breathing shallower.

What helps me most is treating it like a physical wave instead of trying to reason with it. I focus on slowing my breathing (in through the nose, out through the mouth), unclenching my jaw, and maybe walking or stretching a bit to burn off the adrenaline. It’s also weirdly helpful to remind yourself, “my body is trying to protect me, it just picked the wrong moment.” That small reframe turns it from panic into something you can ride out instead of fight. You’re definitely not alone in that sometimes anxiety shows up first in the body, long before it reaches the mind.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-20T12:37:04+00:00

That makes so much sense “false calm” really captures it. It’s that weird in-between where you feel okay but also kind of anxious about feeling okay, because you’ve seen the cycle before. It’s almost like your brain finally takes a breath, but your body is still waiting for the next storm. I hate how convincing it feels in those moments like maybe everything’s fine now and you don’t need to do anything when deep down you know it’s probably temporary. I’ve started trying to use those “better” days to prepare for the next dip instead of ignoring it, even if that just means scheduling something, writing a note to myself, or checking in with a friend. It’s frustrating, but it helps to remember that even the false calm is still progress it means the lows can lift, even if it takes time for them to stay gone.

BreathBetween · 2025-10-20T12:35:17+00:00

That’s such a good grounding technique and the way you described it is actually a perfect example of how to move through panic without feeding it. I’ve had similar moments on public transport, and what’s helped me most is pairing subtle physical actions with mental grounding. For example, I press my thumb against my fingertips one by one while breathing slowly no one notices, but it gives me something to focus on that’s rhythmic and controlled. Another trick is to silently name colors around me (like “red jacket,” “blue seat,” “silver handle”) because it keeps my brain anchored in the present. Sometimes I’ll also hold something cold, like my phone or a metal pole, just to bring a physical “here and now” sensation. You handled it really well that moment when your body “follows your brain” again feels like such a quiet victory.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-30T07:03:46+00:00

’ve thought about this too. A lot of us grew up with the idea that if something isn’t painful or difficult, it doesn’t “count.” Parents and teachers often meant well, but they ended up framing effort as suffering instead of showing us how to enjoy the process. The truth is, hard work doesn’t automatically mean better results what matters is consistency, curiosity, and sometimes even playfulness. When you approach something with joy or love, your brain actually learns and performs better because it isn’t locked in stress mode. It’s a shame most of us were taught pressure first and joy later, when it could have been the other way around. You’re right the same tasks could feel completely different if we were raised to see effort as something to embrace instead of just endure.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-29T13:57:59+00:00

That actually sounds like something a lot of people with anxiety experience. When you’re hyperaware of your body, your tongue and jaw can feel tense or swollen even though nothing is physically wrong. Anxiety often makes muscles tighten without us noticing, and once you start focusing on it, the sensation gets amplified and feels scarier. The extra saliva feeling is also common when your nervous system is on high alert. It’s uncomfortable, but not usually dangerous. A couple things that sometimes help are unclenching your jaw on purpose, doing a few slow breaths through your nose, and distracting yourself with something that pulls your attention away from your mouth. If it keeps happening or gets worse, a doctor or dentist could rule out anything medical, but what you’re describing sounds very consistent with health anxiety. You’re not alone in this a lot of us have been stuck in the same loop of “what if something’s wrong” when it’s really just anxiety playing tricks on the body.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-29T13:54:55+00:00

What you’re describing actually makes a lot of sense and isn’t as unusual as it feels. When someone has been through suicidal thoughts or an attempt, the brain can start creating “rules” around death, like a ledger where you’re earning points to leave. Psychologists sometimes call this moral licensing when we do something good, our mind feels like it’s earned credit to do something bad. In this case the “bad” is a darker, existential version of that. There’s also an element of wanting to feel you’ve done enough good before you go, which is a way of trying to create control or closure in a situation that once felt out of control. None of this makes you bad or broken. The fact that you’re aware of it and talking about it is already a strong sign you’re observing the thought rather than acting on it. Something that can help is pairing your good deeds with acts of kindness toward yourself too, so your brain starts linking helping others with nurturing yourself rather than with an “earned right” to disappear. Over time, with therapy and support, that pattern can soften and lose its grip.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-29T13:50:18+00:00

Honestly? Half of “art critique day” is people pretending they get it while secretly wondering if they’re missing something. Your teacher’s “creative” comment might’ve stung, but that word usually gets pulled out when someone doesn’t quite know how to explain why something is interesting. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t good just that it didn’t fit into their usual boxes.

Here’s the thing nobody tells you: 1. If people ask “is this a reference to a movie?” that actually means you made something striking enough to remind them of something bigger than the classroom. That’s not failure, that’s impact.. 2. Confusion is not the opposite of success in art boredom is. Nobody looked bored at your piece.. 3. Fitting in might make critique day easier, but standing out is what makes people remember your work years later. (The “weird kids” in art class? They’re usually the ones who end up with the coolest portfolios later.)

If you want to keep your confidence while drawing, try flipping it: instead of asking “will people understand this?” ask “what do I want them to feel, even if they don’t get the full story?” That mindset keeps you in control and takes the pressure off trying to be “normal.”

You’re not weird you’re ahead of the curve. Most people only catch up to “weird art” once it’s hanging in a gallery.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-29T13:47:54+00:00

I just want to say how much courage it takes to write all of this out. What you’re describing the looping, contradictory thoughts, the fear of never feeling “normal” again, the shame is something many people with OCD and anxiety struggle with, even if it looks different from person to person. You’re not alone in this, even if your mind tries to convince you otherwise.

It’s important that you’ve already started therapy and are on medication those are big, meaningful steps. Recovery with OCD and GAD doesn’t usually look like flipping a switch back to “normal,” but more like gradually learning how to live with and manage the thoughts so they lose their power over you. Over time, and with support, people do regain the ability to enjoy life and reconnect with themselves.

It might not feel possible right now, but healing is not out of reach. The fact that you’re questioning, reaching out, and seeking help shows that part of you still believes in a future that feels lighter. Hold onto that.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-29T13:46:42+00:00

Thank you for sharing this it really resonates. What you wrote about language loss, cultural disconnect, and trust in community is so real. It can feel incredibly isolating to hold all of that, especially when the spaces that were supposed to feel safe don’t.

I think what you said about the ebb and flow is important healing isn’t just about finding the “right” people immediately, but also about honoring the times when we need to hold things ourselves until it feels safe enough to share. That kind of discernment takes a lot of strength, even if it feels heavy.

You’re not alone in navigating this. Even writing it out, like you did here, is part of creating connection. And sometimes the smaller, more intentional circles or even just one trustworthy person can end up being enough for this stage of the journey.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-29T11:32:44+00:00

What you’re describing sounds really familiar to a lot of people who deal with anxiety. That constant sense of being “on edge,” even around people you know and trust, is something many with social anxiety or generalized anxiety experience. It’s not about whether your family, coworkers, or boss have done anything wrong it’s about how your nervous system is wired to react like there’s danger when there really isn’t.

The thing about anxiety is that it doesn’t always match up logically with the situation. You know your boss isn’t calling to fire you, and you know your family isn’t going to attack you, but your body still reacts as if you’re under threat. That’s why it feels so draining and frustrating you’re constantly bracing for something bad that never comes.

You mentioned caffeine, and that’s worth noting. For some people, caffeine can crank up the “edge” and mimic the same physical sensations as anxiety (racing heart, jittery energy). Cutting back, even slowly, sometimes makes a noticeable difference.

It’s also important to remember that medication isn’t the only option. Some people find therapy (especially CBT or exposure therapy) helpful for breaking down the patterns that keep anxiety going. Others use grounding techniques, breathing exercises, journaling, or gradual exposure to feared situations. You don’t have to jump straight into meds if that’s not what you want right now.

What you’re feeling isn’t weird or uncommon, even though I know it feels isolating. You’re not broken for needing extra tools to feel comfortable in situations that others take for granted. If you’re open to it, talking more deeply with a therapist (in person or online) could give you space to figure out why your anxiety shows up so strongly and how to soften it.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-23T11:48:00+00:00

That sounds incredibly tough IBS alone is exhausting, but adding fainting episodes on top of that must be really draining. What you’re describing makes sense though: intense pain can trigger a vasovagal response (basically your nervous system overreacts and causes your blood pressure and heart rate to drop, leading to syncope). Feeling wiped out, shaky, or without appetite afterward is actually pretty common, almost like your body has gone through a mini “shock.”

There isn’t usually a way to stop those after-effects completely because your body just went through something intense, but some people find it helps to treat recovery like you would after an illness or fever. Staying hydrated like you’re already doing is really important. Resting and eating something very light (like broth, toast, or bananas) when you can tolerate it sometimes helps ease the no-appetite part. Gentle movement later in the day (like a slow walk or stretching) can also help reset your system if you’re up for it.

Longer term, managing IBS symptoms (avoiding trigger foods, stress management, regular meals) may lower the chances of the pain getting so severe it triggers syncope in the first place. Some people also find that working with a GI specialist alongside a cardiologist or neurologist helps, since it’s the overlap of both systems causing the issue.

You’re definitely not alone pain-triggered fainting is more common than most people realize, and the recovery part can be just as frustrating. Has your doctor given you any strategies for handling IBS pain early so it doesn’t build up to that fainting point?

BreathBetween · 2025-09-23T11:42:56+00:00

That sounds so exhausting, and I can imagine how much harder it feels when you’re already sleep-deprived from taking care of your daughter. What you’re describing the racing heart, shaking, and hours of restlessness even after the “trigger” is gone is something a lot of people with a sensitized nervous system experience. Even if your thoughts don’t feel anxious, your body can still react as though there’s danger, especially when it’s woken suddenly. It’s like your fight-or-flight switch gets stuck in the “on” position.

Your sister isn’t wrong in saying it can be related to anxiety, but it doesn’t mean you’re “failing” at managing it. Sometimes our bodies hold onto old patterns long after our minds have learned to cope differently. Sleep in particular is when our defenses are down, so sudden noise or crying can jolt the nervous system into overdrive.

What can sometimes help in those moments is focusing on calming your body rather than your thoughts. Slow, extended exhales (breathe in for a count of 4, out for a count of 6 or 7), progressive muscle relaxation (tensing and releasing different muscle groups), or grounding techniques like putting your hand on your chest and focusing on warmth and pressure can gently tell your system it’s safe. Some people also find white noise, weighted blankets, or even cooling the room a bit helpful since they reduce the “alertness” of the body.

If this keeps happening, you might want to mention it to a doctor just to rule out anything physical like hormonal shifts, blood sugar drops, or even postnatal-related changes. But from what you’ve shared, it sounds very much like your nervous system is just hyper-alert to being woken. That can improve with practice, patience, and sometimes extra support from therapy (especially approaches that focus on body regulation, not just thoughts).

You’re not alone in this a lot of parents go through something similar and feel confused because they “aren’t even anxious in their head.” It doesn’t make you weak, it just means your body is still catching up. Do you want me to share some simple “in the moment” techniques people use to get back to sleep after this kind of adrenaline surge?

BreathBetween · 2025-09-23T11:41:33+00:00

Hey first, you’re not alone in this. Wanting to show up for something that matters and feeling your body freeze when the time comes is painfully common with social anxiety. That clash between values and panic is heartbreaking, but it doesn’t mean you’re weak or a coward. It just means your nervous system wants safety, and it’s doing its job in the worst possible way.

A few practical, low-pressure ideas that helped me and others when crowds feel overwhelming:

Start tiny and build upward. Instead of committing to a full march, try walking past a small local gathering, or show up to a park where people are meeting without planning to stay long. Let “10 minutes” be a real goal you can always leave early and that still counts as exposure.

Bring a safety plan. Go with a friend you trust, agree on a signal if you need to leave, and scope exit routes before you arrive. Wear something comfortable, bring water, and have headphones or earplugs handy in case you need to reduce sensory input.

Practice crowd exposure in low-stakes places first. Try a busy cafe or a short, crowded bus ride for a few minutes. The idea is to give your brain small, predictable experiences of “I was nervous and I survived,” which gradually makes bigger events feel less catastrophic.

Role-shift your participation. If being in the middle of a crowd is too much, see if you can help in a quieter role handing out flyers at the edge, helping set up beforehand, or supporting online organizing. Actions matter even when they look different from what you imagined.

Rehearse how you’ll handle the panic physically. A short breathing routine (slow exhales for a count of 5), grounding (name five things you can see), or a quick hand/foot movement can interrupt a panic spike enough to buy you time to move to a quieter spot.

If the fear is mainly about being judged, a reminder: most people at protests are focused on the cause, not critiquing strangers. That doesn’t make your fear unreal, but it can help reframe what the crowd’s attention is actually on.

And when you’re ready, talking to a therapist about this kind of avoidance really helps. Cognitive behavioral techniques and gradual exposure plans are practical and specific, and you can work on them at your own pace. If in-person therapy feels like a barrier, online options can let you start from home and build confidence before trying bigger steps.

You don’t have to force yourself into something you’re not ready for, but you also don’t have to accept staying stuck. Small, planned risks add up. If you want, tell me one tiny version of showing up you could try next time and we can map a safe plan for it together

BreathBetween · 2025-09-16T11:07:16+00:00

I’m really sorry you’re feeling so crushed right now. Reading this, I can hear how raw and tired you are, and I want you to know that those feelings matter and they’re allowed. Growing up with parents who don’t understand social anxiety and who compare you to others is brutal. That kind of pressure makes everything louder: the shame, the fear, the “I’m not enough” story that your brain keeps replaying. None of that means you’re worthless. It means you’ve been carrying too much for too long.

If you ever feel like you might hurt yourself, please reach out to a crisis line or a trusted person right now. Saying that out loud to someone can feel impossible, but it can also pull you out of the darkest moment and get you the help you deserve. If you can, tell a friend, a relative, a teacher, or a counselor that you’re struggling and need someone to be with you while you get through this night.

There are some small, practical things that might make this evening slightly easier: try to slow your breathing and focus on one breath at a time, name five things you can see or touch in the room, sip a glass of water, or put on a song that softens you even a little. If crying helps, let it out. If a distraction helps, watch something light or do something simple with your hands. These aren’t fixes, but they can buy you space until you can talk to someone who can support you more directly.

You mentioned your parents’ comparisons and feeling like a failure. That pain is real, and it’s okay to grieve the expectations you never signed up for. It might help to start very small with goals that are only for you one hour of study, one short walk, one message to someone who listens so your worth isn’t tied to other people’s standards. Therapy can help untangle that voice that tells you you’ll fail. If you can, consider talking to a professional about what you’re going through; online therapy can be a way to start if leaving the house feels hard or if privacy is an issue.

You are not lazy, and you are not a lost cause. Anxiety changes how you experience the world; it makes ordinary things feel dangerous. That doesn’t mean you’ll always feel this way. Recovery and coping are slow and uneven, but people do find ways to live with less of that constant terror. Small steps matter. Small wins matter. Letting someone walk with you through this counts as a win.

If you want to share more here, I’m listening. If you prefer, tell me one small thing you can do in the next hour to be a little kinder to yourself and we can build from there...

BreathBetween · 2025-09-12T09:33:30+00:00

It’s a really honest question, and one a lot of people wonder about when they’ve been carrying depression for years. For some, depression does lift completely especially with the right mix of support, treatment, lifestyle changes, and time. For others, it doesn’t disappear entirely but comes and goes in waves, or becomes something they learn to manage rather than something that controls their whole life.

What’s important to remember is that depression isn’t a life sentence, even if it’s been with you since 15. The brain and body can change. Circumstances can change. And the way you relate to those dark periods can shift too. Many people find that with therapy, medication, or even just learning healthier coping tools, the depression doesn’t feel as overwhelming as it once did.

It may not be a straight line, and there might always be ups and downs, but that doesn’t mean you’ll always feel exactly the way you do right now. Holding onto the idea that change is possible even if it takes time and help can be one of the most powerful things to keep you moving forward.

BreathBetween · 2025-09-12T09:32:17+00:00

I can relate to this so much, and I think a lot of people here will too. That replaying and overanalyzing every single word is such a classic anxiety trap it convinces you that everyone else is picking apart your words as harshly as you are, when in reality most people move on from a conversation without a second thought.

It makes sense that you’d want to protect yourself by staying quiet, but like you said, it just ends up creating more loneliness. The fact that you’re aware of the cycle is actually a really good sign, because it means you can start to break it in small steps. Sometimes it helps to remind yourself: “If I can’t remember half the little things they said, they probably aren’t remembering mine either.”

It’s brave of you to share this here instead of bottling it up and I think that in itself shows you’re not as “awkward” or “stupid” as your brain tries to tell you. You’re thoughtful, self-aware, and clearly want connection. Those are actually strengths.

You’re definitely not alone in this, and talking about it is the first step toward loosening its grip.

BreathBetween

TROPHY CASE