u/YokoTheCatLady

I (26F) have lived for years with a persistent sense that existing itself is heavy. It’s not that I want to die or harm myself—I don’t. I enjoy my loved ones, my pets, meaningful moments, and I still find joy in life. But underneath all of that, there’s a recurring wish that I had simply never existed in the first place, as if my existence could be erased without pain or consequence. This feeling comes and goes but has been present since around middle school.

I experience emotions very intensely, and I seem to carry an unusually high level of self-awareness. I’m constantly conscious of how I perceive myself and how I imagine everyone else perceives me—from family and friends to strangers, people online, and even people who don’t know me. That awareness rarely turns off.

As a teenager, I often felt fundamentally different from my peers (not in a pick me way I promise 😂). To fit in, I gradually adapted my personality and behavior to match the people around me. Over time, that became so automatic that I now struggle to distinguish between who I genuinely am and the version of myself I’ve learned to present. Sometimes I feel like I’m acting a role, even when I’m completely alone.

I frequently feel like I don’t belong, regardless of where I am or what I’m doing. When I begin something new—a career, a project, a relationship, or even a simple task—I eventually start feeling like I’m not good enough, that I’m pretending, and that other people will eventually realize I don’t deserve to be there. I experience strong impostor feelings and often compare myself to others in ways that leave me feeling inadequate.

I don’t feel driven by a single lifelong ambition or identity. My deepest aspiration is simply to live a peaceful life. Yet even ordinary responsibilities and decisions can feel mentally exhausting because I’m constantly evaluating myself, questioning whether I’m doing things correctly, and wondering whether I’m being authentic.

I don’t feel like my life is objectively terrible. I laugh, I love, I care deeply about people and animals, and I can genuinely enjoy good moments. But those experiences don’t permanently quiet the underlying sense that existence itself is burdensome. The thought of never having existed often returns on its own, not because I want to stop living now, but because I imagine a world in which I never had to carry this lifelong psychological weight.

Despite all of this, I remain committed to staying alive. I have no intention of harming myself and never have. What I’m trying to understand isn’t whether I want to die—I don’t—but why I’ve carried this particular way of experiencing myself and the world for so many years.

I (26F) recently made a post in another subreddit about something I’ve been struggling with emotionally, and after reading the responses, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It made me realize I’d been carrying these feelings around for years, and I felt like I needed to tell my mom.

For context, I’m the oldest of three. My siblings are about 5 and 7 years younger than me.

We grew up lower middle class. We always had what we needed, and we weren’t miserable by any means, but bigger financial decisions were difficult.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that my siblings have been given opportunities I never had.

For example, I had to switch to a public high school because private school wasn’t financially possible. My siblings were later given the choice between public and private schools.

When I got accepted into a university in another city, I commuted every day. It became exhausting and affected my studies so much that I eventually dropped out. Renting near campus was never presented as an option. Part of that was financial, but part of it was also my mom’s very unhealthy attachment to me. Whether intentionally or not, I was made to feel incredibly guilty for even considering living away from home.

Years later, my siblings have been told that if they study in another city, renting there is an option.

After I dropped out, I had to give up the field I had always dreamed of pursuing because it simply wasn’t realistic anymore. Instead, I enrolled in a different program closer to home so I could work and study at the same time. I ended up enjoying it and don’t regret where life has taken me, but it wasn’t the path I originally wanted.

What makes it especially painful is that my youngest sibling is now pursuing the very field I had dreamed of. My parents are fully behind her, both emotionally and financially. They encourage her to focus only on her studies, reassure her that they’ll handle everything else, and never make her feel like she’s asking for too much. When I was in her position, I was told to be understanding, that certain things simply weren’t possible, and that I had to make compromises. So while I’m genuinely happy that she gets to chase her dream, it’s hard not to grieve the fact that I had to let mine go.

I don’t resent my siblings. I genuinely want them to have better opportunities than I did.

I also know my parents’ financial situation improved over the years. I understand people mature. Parents learn. Circumstances change.

Before talking to my mom, I already knew there wasn’t a solution. I wasn’t expecting an apology, money, or for anyone to “fix” the past. I knew none of that was possible.

I think I just wanted to share how it feels. To let her know that, while I’m happy for my siblings, there’s still a part of me that grieves what I didn’t have.

I chose to talk to my mom rather than my dad because, while he’s always been loving and caring, he’s also passive. He’s never really been the parent who handles these kinds of conversations, so talking to my mom felt more natural.

The conversation… didn’t really happen.

As I started explaining how I felt, she got upset, walked away while I was still talking, and has basically refused to speak to me since. She won’t discuss it at all.

Now I’m wondering if I crossed a line.

Maybe this was something I should have kept to myself because nothing can be changed anyway. Maybe bringing it up only made her feel guilty over things that were outside her control.

On the other hand, I don’t think children—even adult children—should have to bottle up difficult feelings forever just because there’s no practical solution.

So… AITAH for bringing this up at all and wanting to have that conversation with my mom?

I’m 26F, the oldest daughter, and I have two younger siblings (a brother and a sister). There’s about a 5-year gap between me and one of them and a 7-year gap with the other.

Lately I’ve been realizing something that’s been bothering me, and I’m wondering if anyone else has experienced it.

We grew up lower middle class. We definitely had financial struggles, but they weren’t the kind where we didn’t have food or basic necessities. We lived a pretty modest life. We still got to go out sometimes, travel occasionally, and have nice things every now and then. The biggest limitations were around major expenses.

Now that I’m an adult, though, I’m seeing a completely different version of my parents with my siblings.
They’re more patient. More supportive. More flexible. More willing to make financial sacrifices.

And I don’t resent my siblings for it at all. I actually want them to have those opportunities. But I can’t help feeling sad that I didn’t.

For example, after middle school, I had to attend a public high school because private school wasn’t an option financially. My siblings were later given the choice between public and private schools.

When I graduated, I got into a university in another city. I commuted every day, and it absolutely destroyed me. It affected my grades, my mental health, and eventually I had to drop out because it just wasn’t sustainable.

Looking back, I also realize my mom had a very unhealthy attachment to me. The idea of renting a place in another city felt almost impossible because I was made to feel like moving away would be this horrible thing to do. I don’t even know if she realized she was guilt-tripping me, but that’s how it felt.

Fast forward a few years, and now my siblings are being offered the option to rent near their schools if they want. It’s not even a debate.

After dropping out, I started working. Eventually I went back to college somewhere closer to home while continuing to work, but had to change my orientation since this college didn’t offer the option I wanted. But long story short, I’ve basically been supporting myself financially ever since, and I still help my parents when I can.

I’m proud of myself. I know I’ve become independent because I had to.

But sometimes I look at my siblings and think… where was this version of my parents when I needed them?
I know part of it is that they’re in a better financial position now. I know people grow, mature, and learn from their mistakes. I don’t think they’re intentionally treating us differently.

But it still hurts.

It’s such a strange feeling because I don’t hate anyone. I’m not angry at my siblings, and I don’t even think I’m angry at my parents. I just feel… grief, I guess. Like I’m mourning the support I never got.

Has anyone else gone through this?

How do you stop comparing your childhood and young adulthood to your siblings’?

And is it normal to feel guilty for being hurt by something that’s ultimately a good thing for them?

Am I a bad person for thinking/feeling the way I do?