Family
I Grew Up thinking anxiety become simply Laziness:. AI-Generated.
I used to think i used to be simply lazy. When I couldn’t get out of bed, I blamed myself. when I forgot matters, missed time limits, or felt like the global changed into too loud, I informed myself i was vulnerable. I didn’t have the language for what i used to be experiencing. no one around me did either.
By The Writer...A_Awan4 months ago in Confessions
Unfiltered Confidence
Real self-esteem isn’t about being the loudest in the room or pretending to have it all together — it’s about truly accepting who you are, even on the days you don’t feel perfect. In a world where teens are constantly bombarded with images of “ideal” lives, bodies, and achievements, genuine self-worth has become harder to hold onto but more important than ever. Today’s teens face an intense pressure to measure up — to fit in, to look right, to achieve more — and without healthy self-esteem, that pressure can easily turn into self-doubt and anxiety. Teaching and nurturing real confidence isn’t just about making teens feel good; it’s about helping them build resilience, set boundaries, and grow into emotionally strong individuals who know their value beyond what others think.
By Sondos Ammar4 months ago in Confessions
(Part 2) To the Man I Was at 19: A Letter from You - 12 Years Wiser (What God Was Doing All Along)
Hey, You spent so much time wondering where God was in all of it. What you did not see then was that He was never far. Every moment you felt overlooked or misunderstood, He was guiding you through lessons that cannot be taught by comfort. You were not abandoned; you were being equipped.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 months ago in Confessions
(Part 1) To the Man I Was at 19: A Letter from You - 12 Years Wiser
Hey, You don’t realize it now, but the way you feel everything so strongly is not a flaw. It is proof that your heart works exactly as it should. You care deeply, you hurt deeply, and you see the world through empathy before logic. That is not weakness. It is the foundation of the man you will become.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 months ago in Confessions
8 Signs It’s More Than Love — It’s a Cosmic Connection
Love can be transformative, but some connections go far beyond ordinary romance. They feel magnetic, fated, and undeniably profound. When you meet someone who shifts your energy, challenges your growth, and awakens something ancient in your soul, you might be experiencing a cosmic connection. It’s more than chemistry, more than infatuation—it’s as if the universe itself conspired to bring you together.
By SATPOWER4 months ago in Confessions
confessions of a madwoman
for about three months, i forgot how to write. i couldn't draw or do much of anything creative but nothing terrified me on such an existential level as forgetting how to write. see, i had a condition called serotonin syndrome, an artificial build-up of the happiness chemical in my brain and it almost killed me. no joke, look it up. that particular side effect (of a cocktail of medications including a migraine preventative that was the last to be replaced) is a mortality risk and a half and i was grappling with the consequences of it at the same time as an identity crisis caused in part by the only viable solution to serotonin syndrome: serotonergic cessation. no serotonin aids for weeks. around that time i started having seizures whenever i tried to engage my imagination. it was hell. it still hurts a little to wrench the words from my subconscious to the surface and i'm twitching a bit because of it, but i'm afraid if i don't start writing again i'll never get back into the habit and this year has cost me so much already. i lost my mind, my career, my identity, my libido, possibly my marriage, definitely my sense of safety, and at least one extremely good friend whose loss i'm not allowed to grieve except at my therapist and buried in the lines of prose i scream into the void. i am profoundly alone and simultaneously surrounded by people who love me and it is the most surreal experience of my life. i'm in the middle of a full-blown PTSD resurgence, blending childhood and adult traumas together into a nightmarish hellscape that overlaps reality like a superimposed photograph all. the. time. and i'm having some kind of midlife crisis regarding my spirituality but lack of religious belief that led me to start a cult (which i will definitely be linking to when i finish writing this because shameless self promotion is the modus operandi). but in my defense the model is terribly unprofitable because the point is to crowd-source the epiphany to the masses, which means free access to all. the most important bits of the philosophy are completely free, from the playlist augury (which you can use to listen to the will of the universe once you tune it to your channel, so to speak) to the three mantras (which guide everyday decisions in the moment) to the twelve principles (which guide overall values and morals). they play off each other to create an implication of further values, but lack the strict methodical proscription of religious dogma. alchemy doesn't care how you get there, or even what you call it. all that matters is that you serve the equilibrium, the balance of the universe, the source of the energy, or your God by doing good things that adhere to the principles and live according to the mantras. if you don't want to use the playlist augury, you don't have to. be hyperpresent in your own body and do something that feels good while you think about who you are and what your place is in the world. mine is behind a screen, ranting like a crazy person (because I am a crazy person) about my nervous breakdown, my new cult, my impending bankruptcy, my new name, my rock bottom, my activist art that no one buys (but they should, since i don't even get a piece of some of them, so there will be another link here), my marriage, my mother... pretty much anything. so when i forgot how to write, i've never been so scared of anything in my life.
By Maia Gadwall the metAlchemist4 months ago in Confessions
Your Future Self is Watching
When sitting in a quiet setting like at home when the lights go off, or in an office where I have to wait for a long while, or simply on a long trip when the noise settles in the bus. I often reflect on how I got this far. The decisions which led me here, the fortunate and unfortunate events which shaped this moment, and how all this could have been different if certain things didn’t happen. I also imagine how different my life would have been if I had made some other choices. For better or worse, I’ll never really know how things could have turned out. All I can do is assume they turned out for the best.
By real Jema4 months ago in Confessions
POV: I WISH I NEVER SAID YES
Chapter 1: Tuesday, 6:00 AM I woke up to my alarm screaming like it hated me. 6:00 AM. Another Tuesday. I groaned, rolled over, and slapped it silent. My mouth was dry. My brain foggy. I sat up and muttered, “Why do I do this to myself?”
By Roman B Jr.4 months ago in Confessions
The Two Breads That Saved a Soul
The Bread of Faith: The Story of Abu Nasr Al-Iyad BY ubaid Once upon a time, there lived a man named Abu Nasr Al-Iyad. He was a poor man who struggled each day to provide for his wife and two young children. Poverty had wrapped its chains around him so tightly that hope seemed to fade with every passing day.
By Ubaid 4 months ago in Confessions
When the Mirror Learns to Speak.
When you’re little and start showing signs of adolescence, it’s both a shy and awakening stage. You don’t quite know who you’re becoming yet — you’re caught between childhood and womanhood, between wanting to be invisible and wanting to be understood. If you have a caring family, that transition feels easier, almost gentle. They guide you through it without judgement. But when your family is the type that points and questions, conforming becomes a way of survival.
By Gladys Kay Sidorenko4 months ago in Confessions
The Secret My Husband Took to His Grave
The Secret My Husband Took to His Grave I never thought silence could be so loud. It has been eight months since Daniel passed away, yet the quietness of our home still hums with his absence. Every morning, I wake up expecting to hear the kettle whistle and his voice calling out, “Coffee or tea, love?” But all that greets me is the hollow echo of memory.
By Muhammad Ilyas4 months ago in Confessions
