u/Tangible17

Non ho nessuno con cui parlare di questo.

Ci troviamo in una brutta situazione. Si rinuncia a delle cure pur di risparmiare, al limite del possibile. Ma è successa una cosa che non è più rimandabile.

Ho il cuore a pezzi. Mi sento distrutta ed impotente. Questo mondo fa schifo. La parola "società" andrebbe rimossa, non ha alcun senso usarla, non capisco davvero perchè cazzo ci riferiamo a questo mondo come una "società".

Non viviamo in società. Ognuno vive la propria vita, non c'è comunità, non c'è il concetto de "il mio servizio per gli altri e quello degli altri per me", "io per te e tu per me". È solo un "io, e basta".

In pochi ce la fanno. E tra quelli che ce la fanno, la maggior parte lo fa schiacciandone molti altri. E chi resta indietro, affari suoi.

Del resto, a detta dell'ignorante indottrinato di turno o del privilegiato nato con la camicia, è colpa tua se muori di fame.

Sogno di diventare medico per aiutare le persone.

Ma anche la mia famiglia e me stessa.

Vengo da una situazione economica estremamente difficile, e va sempre peggio. In questo ultimo periodo mi passano per la testa pensieri preoccupanti. Sono molto stanca.

Mi sta spaventando moltissimo leggere in questo reddit che a breve il mercato del lavoro sarà saturo anche in medicina, e che con lo stipendio da specializzando non si riesca a vivere dignitosamente. Sono a fine quarto anno, ormai potremmo dire in quinto.

L'idea di aver sacrificato già così tanto e di dover sacrificare ancora tanto altro, con la prospettiva di dover affrontare estreme difficoltà per l'ammissione alla specialistica, di dover campare con uno stipendio da fame per ulteriori 4-5 anni, e di dover comunque fare i salti mortali per trovare lavoro, mi terrorizza.

Il mercato sarà davvero saturo come dicono? Davvero con lo stipendio da specializzando si fa la fame?

Non che possa più tornare indietro, ma di questi tempi vale più la pena fare medicina?

Per favore non siate saccenti. Mi trovo in un momento buio, battutine o paternali non mi servono.

Mi fa davvero male sentirmi così. La mia amica, F30, vive da fuorisede. Disoccupata, mantenuta dai genitori, fuoricorso in accademia d'arte. Non ho davvero idea di come spenda le giornate dalla mattina alla sera, non avendo lezioni o tirocini, ma ogni settimana ha sempre mille eventi da proporre e a cui andare. Se le si dice di no, automaticamente sfotte buttandola sulla pigrizia.

Vengo da una famiglia assolutamente non benestante.

Ho scelto un percorso universitario che non mi piace e che è estremamente impegnativo unicamente perché sicuro dal punto di vista lavorativo. Sto tutto il giorno incollata sulla sedia a studiare, non mi concedo neppure un singolo hobby, un'ora di palestra a settimana, neanche un film prima di andare a dormire, perchè so perfettamente quanto ogni minuto della mia esistenza gravi sulle spalle dei miei genitori, ed ho dunque fretta di finire gli studi e mettermi a lavorare.

Potessi lavorerei già ora, ma la mia università ha la frequenza obbligatoria, + tirocini obbligatori, + una mole di studio spaventosa - non riuscirei ad incastrare neppure un part-time.

Vivo da fuorisede contro la mia volontà, avessi potuto sarei rimasta nella stessa regione dove si trova la mia famiglia, ed invece sono stata costretta a scappare molto lontano nella speranza di poter un domani uscire da questa gabbia di povertà in cui mi trovo - lasciando indietro parenti ed amici.

Mi sento annientata e scoraggiata ogni giorno di più, perchè questa vita non l'ho voluta ma l'ho decisa per arrivare a domani, perchè questa vita non è più mia - è del lavoro che un domani dovrà sostenere me e la mia famiglia.

E poi c'è lei. Zero lezioni, zero lavoro, fa quel che vuole dalla mattina alla sera, fuorisede e fuoricorso per scelta - perchè la mattina dell'esame deve ancora stampare il progetto da presentare, e con tutto il cazzo di tempo libero che ha, è impossibile ridursi così all'ultimo. Per non parlare di tutte le "sviste" sul prenotare gli esami o contattare questo o quel professore per ottenere informazioni sui progetti che deve portare.

Ed è così che posticipa ancora la laurea. Del resto ha una famiglia che la mantiene incondizionatamente - non ha preoccupazioni, non economiche di certo.

Provo invidia. E in quei momenti in cui rifiuto un invito per andare da qualche parte e la butta sulla pigrizia, o in cui mi vede super di fretta perchè devo correre a studiare/a leizone/a tirocinio e si mette a ridere, anche tanta rabbia. Ultimamente sento quasi l'urgenza di risponderle, ma non voglio - del resto la sua vita è la sua vita, non fa del male a me, non mi toglie nulla. Il problema è la mia invidia, non il suo stile di vita.

Ma la frustrazione è tanta e cresce ogni giorno. Non voglio si metta nel mezzo nella nostra amicizia. Come supero questa cosa?

I'm about to delete both my account and this app. It's horrifying the amount of aggressive/passive-aggressive people that fills this platform. Everytime I open Reddit, I find myself feeling extremely frustrated and sad.

I guessed I wanted to write one last post. Have you noticed it? Can you explain WHY?

Ps. English is not my first language, apologies in advance

The more I look back at what my sexual experience was like with my ex, the more I get concerned. Not the "completely freaked ou, shaking, crying" kind of concerned, but the kind that makes me frown, feel a bit anxious, angry and ashamed at the same time, and in immediate need to change the subject because I truly don't want to think about it. But from time to time my mind goes back to that and makes me feel more and more uncomfortable.

Sex with him was painful - for many reasons. We used to fight a lot during the day, I didn't have that much experience, and I was on the pill, which made my libido almost nonexistent.

He pressured me many times about us not having sex soon enough at the beginning of our relationship, and once we started, not so often. I remember one time we had a fight because he wanted to have sex and I didn't feel like it, after traveling alone for 12 hours non-stop across three different countries.

Then he pressured me about solving this issue I had - the pain. I went to my gynecologist, did a few tests to check if maybe I had an infection, and everything came back negative. I actually cried isterically when I found out that the tests were negative - because that meant that I still didn't know how to solve this "problem", which made me feel really, really anxious.

Then he tried to convince me to talk to my friends about this. I refused, being really shy and truly worried about the situation. Plus, none of my friends were doctors or sexual educators. Many months after I broke up with him, one of my friends confessed me that he eventually went to her behind my back to try to convince her to talk to me first and to check if there was anything she could have told me to help me. At the time she didn't tell me anything because she didn't want me to feel mortified, and simply told him no.

He never, *never* got angry to the point of being clearly wrong. But if I told him no, he would frown for the entire eveining, or give the silent treatment, or get sarcastic and snarky.

A few weeks ago I saw this documentary about a p*dophile luring very young teenagers with porn and magazines. It reminded me of the time he put porn on the TV to "entice" me, and how that made me extremely uncomfortable. When I asked him to please turn it off, he got all defensive and aggressive, saying I was making him feel like he was sick in the head. I know the two things have nothing in common, we were both adults, but seeing that documentary is what made me remember that.

When I think about the times we had sex, I remember that many times I went along because I didn't want him to get mad and stress me/I didn't want to feel like there was something wrong with me. It's been years, and I still feel like there is something wrong with me because of all of that.

Was all of this actually problematic? Does it have a name? Or am I just thinking too much?

Thank you in advance for taking your time in reading all of this.

Ps. English is not my first language, apologies in advance The more I look back at what my sexual experience was like with my ex, the more I get concerned. Not the "completely freaked ou, shaking, crying" kind of concerned, but the kind that makes me frown, feel a bit anxious, angry and ashamed at the same time, and in immediate need to change the subject because I truly don't want to think about it. But from time to time my mind goes back to that and makes me feel more and more uncomfortable.

Sex with him was painful - for many reasons. We used to fight a lot during the day, I didn't have that much experience, and I was on the pill, which made my libido almost nonexistent.

He pressured me many times about us not having sex soon enough at the beginning of our relationship, and once we started, not so often. I remember one time we had a fight because he wanted to have sex and I didn't feel like it, after traveling alone for 12 hours non-stop across three different countries.

Then he pressured me about solving this issue I had - the pain. I went to my gynecologist, did a few tests to check if maybe I had an infection, and everything came back negative. I actually cried isterically when I found out that the tests were negative - because that meant that I still didn't know how to solve this "problem", which made me feel really, really anxious.

Then he tried to convince me to talk to my friends about this. I refused, being really shy and truly worried about the situation. Plus, none of my friends were doctors or sexual educators. Many months after I broke up with him, one of my friends confessed me that he eventually went to her behind my back to try to convince her to talk to me first and to check if there was anything she could have told me to help me. At the time she didn't tell me anything because she didn't want me to feel mortified, and simply told him no.

He never, never got angry to the point of being clearly wrong. But if I told him no, he would frown for the entire eveining, or give the silent treatment, or get sarcastic and snarky.

A few weeks ago I saw this documentary about a p*dophile luring very young teenagers with porn and magazines. It reminded me of the time he put porn on the TV to "entice" me, and how that made me extremely uncomfortable. When I asked him to please turn it off, he got all defensive and aggressive, saying I was making him feel like he was sick in the head. I know the two things have nothing in common, we were both adults, but seeing that documentary is what made me remember that.

When I think about the times we had sex, I remember that many times I went along because I didn't want him to get mad and stress me/I didn't want to feel like there was something wrong with me. It's been years, and I still feel like there is something wrong with me because of all of that.

Was all of this actually problematic? Does it have a name? Or am I just thinking too much? Thank you in advance for taking your time in reading all of this.

I love her, and I know that I must be unreasonable too at times (we all are at some point, let's be real, especially when it comes to relationships). But it's almost been a year and she's insanely OBSESSED. And if you tell her, she denies it. So... what do you do from there?

TW: d€ad animal.

I'll sound crazy, so prepare yourself.

There was this person I knew who passed away. Lately, I've been trying to figure out whether this person was truly guilty of the terrible things multiple people accused them of, or whether they were framed.

I was so desperate and unable to get a proper answer that I literally asked the universe to give me a signal. I don't even believe in this kind of stuff, but I was completely hopeless.

A few hours later, I was laying on my bed, ready to go to sleep. So I put my phone down and turned off the lights. After not even ten seconds, I hear a dog outside barking a few times. No big deal, quite a common occurrence, right?

Execpt for the fact that for some reason, I immediately decided to stand up and open the window to check on that supposed stray. And this is what happened next.

I didn't find just one stray dog, or two. I counted at least SEVEN or EIGHT of them, medium size and big. Mind you - I live in the middle of a small city, I've never seen *a pack* of stray dogs reaching the center, they usually stick to the extreme periphery and the nearest countryside, like wild animals.

Because none of them were the average stray you find roaming peacefully and alone down the street.

They were the kind of dogs that are dangerous and aggressive, that have hierarchy and a territory. And they were in the damn center. Attacking a poor, white cat.

I immediately screamed at them like I've never done in my whole life and started banging the balcony railing. They dropped the cat and run away. I called for the cat, but the poor thing was curled up on itself and absolutely motionless.

I was so shocked. I went back in, paced back and forth trying to understand whether it was safe to go down the street and check on the cat (I knew the dogs were still waiting around the corner). It all took less than a minute, and when I tried calling again for the cat, I saw one of the damn dogs coming back to take the poor creature. I won't go in detail, but the cat didn't even flinch, so it was already d€ad.

Now. What the f%ck. I was so shocked that for a week I couldn't even think about cats. I know, food chain and yada yada, those dogs were just trying to survive, either it was that cat that day or another one (or any other small animal, actually) the day after. But it still was really traumatic to watch. And surreal.

And so out of the blue.

So- let's be creative for a moment. Let's suppose the universe, or that person I was looking into, actually decided to give me a signal. And that *that* was the signal.

When I first reconsidered it, I got the feeling I saw what happened to that person when they were alive.

A pack of dogs attacking a white cat, and ultimately the cat dying alone, surely in pain and helpless, in front of my very eyes.

A group of people accusing a person, countless others watching them wither away year after year, and that person eventually being killed by a man and dying alone, helpless and in pain.

I saw a resemblance. And therefore innocence.

But if that person was truly innocent, why resorting to violence to tell me? Why killing a poor creature to prove it? Doesn't that mean guilt?

I sound crazy, I know. But what do you guys think?

Ps: apologies for my grammar, English is not my first language.

TW: d€ad animal.

I'll sound crazy, so prepare yourself. There was this person I knew who passed away. Lately, I've been trying to figure out whether this person was truly guilty of the terrible things multiple people accused them of, or whether they were framed. I was so desperate and unable to get a proper answer that I literally asked the universe to give me a signal.

A few hours later, I was laying on my bed, ready to go to sleep. So I put my phone down and turned the lights off. After not even ten seconds, I hear a dog outside barking a few times. No big deal, quite a common occurrence, right? Execpt for the fact that for some reason, I immediately decided to stand up, go to the kitchen and open the window to check on that stray. And I saw at least SEVEN or EIGHT of them, medium size and big. Mind you - I live in the middle of a small city, I've never seen a pack of stray dogs reaching the center, they usually stick in the extreme periphery and in the nearest countryside, like wild animals. None of them were the average stray you find roaming peacefully and alone down the street. They were the kind of dogs that are dangerous and aggressive. And they were in the damn center. Attacking a poor, white cat. I immediately screamed at them like I've never done in my whole life and started banging the balcony railing. They immediately dropped the cat and run away, but sadly the cat was all curled up and still. I tried calling for it, but it was absolutely motionless. I was so shocked. I went back in, quickly told my mom what happened (since she obviously heard me screaming like a mad person at 2 AM), and I paced back and forth once trying to understand whether it was safe to go down the street and check on the poor cat (I knew the dogs were still waiting around the corner). It all took less than a minute, and when I tried calling again for the cat, I saw one of the damn dogs coming back to take the poor creature. I won't go in detail, but the cat still didn't move at all, so it was already d€ad.

Now. What the f%ck. I was so shocked that for a week I couldn't even think about cats. I know, food chain and yada yada, those dogs were just trying to survive, either it was that cat that day or another one (or any other small animal, actually) the day after. But it still was really traumatic to watch.

And so out of the blue. So- let's be creative for a moment. Let's suppose the universe, or that person I was looking into, decided to give me a signal. And that that was the signal. When I first thought about it, I got the feeling I saw what happened to that person when they were alive. A pack of dogs attacking a white cat. A group of people attacking an innocent person. But if that's what it meant, why killing a cat to hint at innocence? I sound crazy, I know. But what do you guys think?

Ps: apologies for my grammar, English is not my first language.

Hello there. You people here sound open-minded and chill, therefore I decided to drop a bomb on you (oops <3): what do you guys think about the allegations?

The Michael Jackson subreddit doesn't even allow people to mention them, and the Leaving Neverland one is full of rabid people.

I don't understand why people on both sides become so aggressive when the allegations come up. Plus, most of their sources are either clearly biased or completely made up. It's hard to understand who's telling the truth.

Do you guys think Michael Jackson was guilty or innocent?

And most importantly: why do you think that?

Hope we'll have a nice, civil conversation!

Tw: d€ad animal

I'll sound crazy, so prepare yourself. There was this person I knew who passed away. Lately, I've been trying to figure out whether this person was truly guilty of the terrible things multiple people accused them of, or whether they were framed. I was so desperate and unable to get a proper answer that I literally asked the universe to give me a signal.

A few hours later, I was laying on my bed, ready to go to sleep. So I put my phone down and turned the lights off. After not even ten seconds, I hear a dog outside barking a few times. No big deal, quite a common occurrence, right? Execpt for the fact that for some reason, I immediately decided to stand up, go to the kitchen and open the window to check on that stray. And I saw at least SEVEN or EIGHT of them, medium size and big. Mind you - I live in the middle of a small city, I've never seen a pack of stray dogs reaching the center, they usually stick in the extreme periphery and in the nearest countryside, like wild animals.

None of them were the average stray you find roaming peacefully and alone down the street. They were the kind of dogs that are dangerous and aggressive. And they were in the damn center. Attacking a poor, white cat. I immediately screamed at them like I've never done in my whole life and started banging the balcony railing. They immediately dropped the cat and run away, but sadly the cat was all curled up and still. I tried calling for it, but it was absolutely motionless. I was so shocked. I went back in, quickly told my mom what happened (since she obviously heard me screaming like a mad person at 2 AM), and I paced back and forth once trying to understand whether it was safe to go down the street and check on the poor cat (I knew the dogs were still waiting around the corner). It all took less than a minute, and when I tried calling again for the cat, I saw one of the damn dogs coming back to take the poor creature. I won't go in detail, but the cat still didn't move at all, so it was already d€ad.

Now. What the f%ck. I was so shocked that for a week I couldn't even think about cats. I know, food chain and yada yada, those dogs were just trying to survive, either it was that cat that day or another one (or any other small animal, acutally) the day after. But it still was really traumatic to watch.

And so out or the blue. So- let's be creative for a moment. Let's suppose the universe, or that person I was looking into, decided to give me a signal. And that that was the signal. A pack of dogs killing a white cat. What the hell would that mean.

Ps: apologies for my grammar, English is not my first language.

I don't think what happened in my last relationship was that concerning. However, looking back at it after many years since I broke up with him, I feel uncomfortable at the memory of some of the stuff that happened.

(Stupid intro, if you don't want to read the context, skip this:)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx We argued for stupid reasons. And he flirted a lot with two different girls. The first one to make me jealous and probably feed his ego (he would literally come to me day after day and tell me what she did and say. At first I brushed it off and told him I didn't care if a girl had a crush on him, I only cared about what he did. But he kept testin me and after a few months I finally got upset. She texted him at midnight asking him to go to a club together the next weekend, I finally told him that I didn't like the fact that he was clearly not setting some boundaries with that girl, and he replied that I was acting crazy, that he had the right to have female friends, and that I was being "toxic". Ps: I never told him to not have female friends, just to set some boundaries with the one who was clearly flirting with him.) The second time he purposely hid it from me and I found out by chance. This other girl openly confessed to him by text, he turned her down but kept messaging with her everyday for months, even inviting her at his place, and he never told me anything. I found out because she sent him a flirtious text as he was sitting next to me at dinner. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

But this is the stupid part. I was an idiot for not breaking up with him sooner, I know. He got me trapped in the loop "Am I being reasonable? Or am I being actually crazy?".

Here comes the part which actually makes me worry: Having sex was really painful. I believe the reason was a mix of: the pill I was taking, me being anxious in general, and the foreplay always being rushed. Plus all the arguments we had all the time. Now, all of this sounds really silly and pretty avarage for a relationship that ended (I mean, if a relationship ends, most probably it's because it wasn't an happy one).

What troubles me is remembering the way he would pressure me into having sex. He never really forced me, but at the same time I felt like I had to listen to him? It's hard to explain without giving the wrong impression and making it sound worse than it actually was.

He would say stuff like "I have these needs, and if you can't met them, then I don't know what we should do" (implying he would break up with me), which I mean, it's reasonable. If two people can't find a compromise, then it makes sense they break up. But at the same time, is it right to say stuff like this way, and in this context? It was not like I didn't want to. It simply hurt really bad and at some point I was anxious about doing it/didn't want to.

I remember one time I come back home after a 12h journey. I was really tired and just wanted to have a shower and go to sleep. He was kind enough to order dinner, but then he started sighing and frowning. I immediately knew why, and I pretended not to. At some point however I had to ask him "what's wrong?", otherwise he would have accused me of not caring for him (since he was clearly upset), and he told me he was expecting to do something since we hadn't seen each other for several weeks. I told him that I was really tired after traveling for 12 hours straight, and he got even more upset. We didn't do anything, I stood up for myself (I was finally nearly done with him, I left him a month later), but we argued and went to bed still angry at each other.

Or he would talk to me and say that I needed to find a solution for this. He wasn't aggressive or too straightforward, but he made me feel like there was something wrong with me that needed to be fixed. I remember going to my gynecologist for this, running some tests to see if I had an infection that could explain what I was experiencing, and (ironically) crying really bad when everything came back negative. And again when my gynecologist (not so trained on this kind of stuff) simply told me she didn't know how to help me after seeing the lab results.

At some point he tried to convince me to talk with my friends to understand why I was feeling pain. I told him no multiple times because I saw no use in doing that. They weren't doctors, and I'm really shy about this stuff. But he still kept insisting on multiple occasions.

After many months since we broke up, a friend of mine actually confessed me that at some point during our relationship he ended up going to her. He tried to convince her to talk to me to see if she could do something to help. She didn't tell me anything at the time because she knew I'd have been mortified by this. When she did, she didn't repeat the exact words he used when they talked, but she said that she was outraged by what he told her.

I tried brushing it off, but from time to time I still think about all of this and feel a mix of shame and anger. Sometimes I wonder if this was on some level even manipulative or abusive. But I'm afraid of not being objective since he's an ex boyfriend.

What do you guys think?

Ps: english is not my first language, so apologies for my grammar.

I don't think what happened in my last relationship was that concerning. However, looking back at it after many years since I broke up with him, I feel uncomfortable at the memory of some of the stuff that happened.

(Stupid intro, if you don't want to read the context, skip this:) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx We argued for stupid reasons. And he flirted a lot with two different girls. The first one to make me jealous and probably feed his ego (he would literally come to me day after day and tell me what she did and say. At first I brushed it off and told him I didn't care if a girl had a crush on him, I only cared about what he did. But he kept testin me and after a few months I finally got upset. She texted him at midnight asking him to go to a club together the next weekend, I finally told him that I didn't like the fact that he was clearly not setting some boundaries with that girl, and he replied that I was acting crazy, that he had the right to have female friends, and that I was being "toxic". Ps: I never told him to not have female friends, just to set some boundaries with the one who was clearly flirting with him.) The second time he purposely hid it from me and I found out by chance. This other girl openly confessed to him by text, he turned her down but kept messaging with her everyday for months, even inviting her at his place, and he never told me anything. I found out because she sent him a flirtious text as he was sitting next to me at dinner. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

But this is the stupid part. I was an idiot for not breaking up with him sooner, I know. He got me trapped in the loop "Am I being reasonable? Or am I being actually crazy?".

Here comes the part which actually makes me worry: Having sex was really painful. I believe the reason was a mix of: the pill I was taking, me being anxious in general, and the foreplay always being rushed. Plus all the arguments we had all the time.

Now, all of this sounds really silly and pretty avarage for a relationship that ended (I mean, if a relationship ends, most probably it's because it wasn't an happy one). What troubles me is remembering the way he would pressure me into having sex. He never really forced me, but at the same time I felt like I had to listen to him? It's hard to explain without giving the wrong impression and making it sound worse than it actually was.

He would say stuff like "I have these needs, and if you can't met them, then I don't know what we should do" (implying he would break up with me), which I mean, it's reasonable. If two people can't find a compromise, then it makes sense they break up. But at the same time, is it right to say stuff like this way, and in this context? It was not like I didn't want to. It simply hurt really bad and at some point I was anxious about doing it/didn't want to.

I remember one time I come back home after a 12h journey. I was really tired and just wanted to have a shower and go to sleep. He was kind enough to order dinner, but then he started sighing and frowning. I immediately knew why, and I pretended not to. At some point however I had to ask him "what's wrong?", otherwise he would have accused me of not caring for him (since he was clearly upset), and he told me he was expecting to do something since we hadn't seen each other for several weeks. I told him that I was really tired after traveling for 12 hours straight, and he got even more upset. We didn't do anything, I stood up for myself (I was finally nearly done with him, I left him a month later), but we argued and went to bed still angry at each other.

Or he would talk to me and say that I needed to find a solution for this. He wasn't aggressive or too straightforward, but he made me feel like there was something wrong with me that needed to be fixed. I remember going to my gynecologist for this, running some tests to see if I had an infection that could explain what I was experiencing, and (ironically) crying really bad when everything came back negative. And again when my gynecologist (not so trained on this kind of stuff) simply told me she didn't know how to help me after seeing the lab results.

At some point he tried to convince me to talk with my friends to understand why I was feeling pain. I told him no multiple times because I saw no use in doing that. They weren't doctors, and I'm really shy about this stuff. But he still kept insisting on multiple occasions.

After many months since we broke up, a friend of mine actually confessed me that at some point during our relationship he ended up going to her. He tried to convince her to talk to me to see if she could do something to help. She didn't tell me anything at the time because she knew I'd have been mortified by this. When she did, she didn't repeat the exact words he used when they talked, but she said that she was outraged by what he told her.

I tried brushing it off, but from time to time I still think about all of this and feel a mix of shame and anger. Sometimes I wonder if this was on some level even manipulative or abusive. But I'm afraid of not being objective since he's an ex boyfriend.

What do you guys think?

Edit: english is not my first language, so apologies for my grammar.

The allegations involving MJ made me sick. I investigated and at some point had to stop because I felt I was going to throw up. I get extremely emotionally involved when I learn about stuff like this, or injustices in general. This is not the first time I experience such a strong reaction to something awful happening in the world. It's a pattern, but it usually involves politics and such, not artists, therefore right now I don't really know how to handle all of this.

Right now I can't listen to his music. I'd like to, while still remembering the hard truth about him, never forgetting or denying it. But at the moment just hearing his name upsets me, and I'm not sure it would be morally okay to listen to his music (I'm gen z, cancel culture is greatly supported by my generation and I personally agree with it in most of the cases). I'm really confused.

Do you guys still listen to MJ's music? Do you think it's ethical to do so?

Hello, I hope this is a safe place. Ps: english is not my first language, so apologies in advance.

All my life I've always felt like I was "weird". I've been socially isolated for most of my childhood (school aside, ofc), so I've always blamed this for my "weirdness". People wouldn't probably call me weird, maybe clumsy when it comes to socializing, but I'm well aware of how much thoughts I put behind every interaction I have with people around me. It doesn't come naturally to me- so yeah, I feel I am a bit weird.

From time to time, however, I do suspect that something might hide underneath. It's hard to tell if it's a genuine doubt or something suggested from nowadays social media, that are all about psychology (great thing, finally people are more open-minded, but some individuals use words like "neurodivergence", "nervous system", "hormones" etc with no real awareness of what they are talking about). That's why I'm looking for an opinion here (not a diagnosis ofc, for that I'd need a professionist, I know that, so please don't scold me and be kind).

I'm a female, 23yo, what people used to call "gifted child", with good marks, and the child that "no one ever had to worry about", put together and dutiful. But also awkward at socializing as I've already explained, timid most of the time. Not too messy, I don't forget where I put my stuff, not more than an avarage person. But I find really, really hard concentrating. I get distracted many times in a row, most of the time without even realizing it. And if there is a TV on or some music in the background, I can't concentrate on any discussion. I also get really, really fixated on stuff. I daydream a lot, always had, and since I easily get fixated on plot stories (among many other things), I've learned over the years to avoid **completely** films, tv series, books- **everything**. I'm consciously depriving myself of all of that because I know the moment I like a story, my mind will be thinking about that 24/7 and I won't function properly. It happens with food too. I end up eating for both lunch and dinner the same thing over and over again, sometimes up to two, three weeks in a row, and then suddenly stop. I always feel like the world is ending. I'm always in a rush, always anxious about what I need to do next.

Normally I don't have too many problems at studying - as I've already stated, I've found my balance over the years. I sit ALL DAY on the chair and at some point things get done. However, lately I've found studying much more difficult. I think it's because of a combination of me going through a rough time now (many things happened in the past few months) and also me stumbling upon a new story I immediately liked over social media (my mind keeps going back to that whenever I stand still for more than a second, even if I'm trying to study). So yes, I sit, read a few sentences, and immediately loose track of what I'm doing and go somewhere else with my mind.

To sum up, I always feel like I'm running out of time, I get fixated on stuff, I'm socially awkward and stressed enough to feel a constant brain fog.

Am I just weird, or there may be an explanation to all of this? Please be gentle and thank you for your time!

Sono ancora agli albori di questo lungo percorso, ai primi sei anni di studio. Mi piace medicina, ma mi sta privando letteralmente di qualsiasi cosa: famiglia, passioni.

Prima che qualcuno mi venga a dire che a med con un po' di impegno si può prendere tutti 30L e comunque avere una vita sociale, andare in palestra, imparare a suonare due strumenti, viaggiare- Io non riesco. Ho le mie difficoltà personali, di natura familiare ed economica. Non riesco, ho il mio bagaglio, fine. 🤷‍♀️

Dunque mi chiedo: dopo questi primi sei anni, iniziando finalmente a lavorare ed avere degli orari, si vede un po' di luce? Ci si ritrova con un po' più di tempo per fare anche altro?

It takes only a moment to leave a like, a comment, or click the share button. So if it helps someone who needs it, I'll gladly do all of that.

The problem is, the algorithm will next show me only those kind of videos. And the more I interact with them, the more they will show up. Until it's the only thing coming up in my feed. It's frustrating (and egoistic, I know).

What do you guys think? What do you usually do in situations like these?

So, nowadays almost every product we consume is on some level unethical.

Many years ago I went vegeterian - food. Then I started checking that all my products were cruelty free - toiletry. Then I stopped buying from fast fashion websites online - clothes. But then also from most of the shops at the mall.

And now I'm starting to question whether I should stop consuming art made by infamous contemporary artists (to not give them money and fame that they definitely don't deserve).

I'm reaching the point of exhaustion. Everyday choice feels loaded with an horrifying amount of responsibility.

I know it's impossible to live 100% ethically. But I still feel like I should do as much as I can to stop this evil industry. To not feed it all the time, at the very least.

But again- it's getting really exhausting. Especially now that I've faced this new ethical-matter concerning art- music, books, films... It's hard giving up to stuff yoi enjoy because the artist who made it is awful. I'm finding this even harder than being a vegetarian.

What do you guys think?

How do you know when it's right to draw the line?

So, nowadays almost every product we consume is on some level unethical.

Many years ago I went vegeterian - food. Then I started checking that all my products were cruelty free - toiletry. Then I stopped buying from fast fashion websites online - clothes. But then also from most of the shops at the mall.

And now I'm starting to question whether I should stop consuming art made by infamous contemporary artists (to not give them money and fame that they definitely don't deserve).

I'm reaching the point of exhaustion. Everyday choice feels loaded with an horrifying amount of responsibility.

I know it's impossible to live 100% ethically. But I still feel like I should do as much as I can to stop this evil industry. To not feed it all the time, at the very least.

But again- it's getting really exhausting. Especially now that I've faced this new ethical-matter concerning art- music, books, films... It's hard giving up to stuff yoi enjoy because the artist who made it is awful. I'm finding this even harder than being a vegetarian.

What do you guys think?

How do you know when it's right to draw the line?