Posts by goldenmarlin64

I was watching the game last night—well, after the rain delay finally cleared up—and I couldn't help but think about how much of a psychological war we play against ourselves when we’re in a rut. It doesn't matter if you're a professional athlete in front of millions or just some guy trying to hit a deadline at work or get a rhythm back in a hobby; that feeling of "the drought" is universal.

There is something uniquely soul-crushing about a slump. It’s not just about the failure itself; it’s the loss of confidence. You start questioning your fundamental mechanics. You start wondering if the thing you thought you were good at was just a fluke or a lucky streak that has finally come to an end. I remember a few years ago when I was getting back into long-distance running. I hit this wall where, no matter how much I trained, I just couldn't find my stride. Every mile felt like a slog, and the mental fatigue was actually worse than the physical exhaustion. I started doubting if I even had the "engine" for it anymore.

When you're in that hole, it feels like the universe is conspiring against you. You see every mistake magnified. If you're a hitter, you're overthinking your stance; if you're a coder, you're staring at a bug that seems impossible to solve; if you're a musician, your fingers just won't do what your brain tells them to do. And then, suddenly, it happens. One big moment, one breakthrough, and the dam breaks.

But here is what I've been pondering lately: is the "breakout" actually a result of improved skill, or is it just a mathematical inevitability? We love the narrative of the hero overcoming the struggle through sheer grit and adjustment. We want to believe that the person who struggled for a week straight worked harder and "fixed" themselves. But sometimes, I wonder if it's just a matter of variance. Sometimes you're just due for a hit, and the "slump" was just a statistical anomaly that had to balance out.

I think we over-romanticize the struggle. We treat the comeback like it’s a moral victory, when in reality, the person might have just been playing the same way the whole time, just waiting for the luck to turn. Or, conversely, maybe the "slump" was actually a period of necessary recalibration that we don't give enough credit for. Maybe you *had* to fail to realize your technique was off.

It also makes me think about the pressure of expectation. When a high-profile player goes quiet, the commentary starts circling the drain. The "is he washed?" or "is he over the hill?" talk starts almost immediately. It’s brutal. We are so quick to write people off based on a few bad days or even a bad week. It makes me wonder how much of our own self-worth we tie to our "streaks"—whether that’s in our careers, our sports, or even our social lives.

I’m curious to hear what you guys think about the psychology of the "dry spell." When you’re stuck in a rut—whether it’s in sports, gaming, or your professional life—do you think the best way out is to change your approach and "fix" your mechanics, or do you think you just have to sit there, take the hits, and wait for the luck to swing back your way? Does "grinding through it" actually work, or is it just a way to stay sane while you wait for the math to even out?

Brenda Booth5 said:If my own friend ever opened up to me about what you shared with your group, I’d actually realize just how much courage it takes to get those words out... and I’d really respect her for it.

Assuming you hadn't said a word to her, would she have even considered your relationship "fine" from her perspective? If that were the case, you could have easily kept quiet just to spare her the "poor thing" confusion.

At the end of the day, you had your own internal psychological reasons for being somewhat dishonest... but what exactly was her justification for this kind of friendship?

Just to be clear, all this "massive dishonesty" she keeps bringing up basically boils down to the fact that I wouldn't admit when an action from her or our social circle actually hurt my feelings more than I let on. I wasn't pretending everything was fine just to bail on the group or throw it in their faces later; I just learned how to handle certain situations internally—things that might seem trivial to others but hit me hard. Since I was raised to believe my opinions and needs mattered less, I just dealt with it privately and moved forward with the relationship without issue. I never ever dragged those things out, even now while she’s digging up all sorts of irrelevant nonsense. I refused to play that low, dirty card.

She doesn't need an excuse. She insists she's right, claiming she just can't be around me anymore because I don't see things clearly and that I need to understand why she can't consider people like me friends.

The worst part is feeling like a fool for trying to apologize to her and explaining every little detail she twisted, which honestly just signaled to her that she might have a point. But she doesn't. It's only taken a few days for me to realize that. Honestly, it doesn't matter; I have no intention of reaching out to tell her that, because someone like her isn't worth the effort. Is there any point in talking to someone who has already decided they're done with me? Someone to whom the things I shared—things that are genuinely heavy and have been weighing on me for a while now—mean absolutely nothing?

You lay out all your vulnerabilities to someone, and they just mock you and laugh—not just behind your back, but to your face—and then have the nerve to claim they're a true friend while hoping I'll be "smarter" next time so I don't "ruin" every relationship. Fine. I'll be smarter about judging people, because I clearly screwed up big time with her..

It’s pretty obvious. I just tend to approach problems by trying to understand the other side first—if that doesn't work, then it doesn't work. Throughout this entire argument, I didn't get a single shred of empathy from her, especially since I was being vulnerable about some personal struggles. All I got were comments like "you should have handled your life differently" and "this is entirely your own fault."

If an acquaintance had actually responded to what I told them the way I would have, it would have shut down her entire aggressive, insulting approach immediately. She could have just asked how I was doing, listened, and realized that my perspective isn't just some random whim—it's based on what I expect from relationships based on all my other friendships.

Honestly, I talk to people I don't even know in real life—people I've met on internet forums whose stories I've read and seen they're struggling. Every few days, I reach out to check on them because they're dealing with depression; I listen to their problems and try to help. That doesn't make me a saint; to me, it's just basic human decency.

On the flip side, she twisted everything to make me look threatening or dishonest just because I didn't share every single detail with her. This was someone I mostly communicated with via text and only saw when she didn't have anything better planned; I always felt secondary, like she didn't really see me as a person, which is exactly why I didn't feel brave enough to open up about the deep stuff. I never felt like she was actually listening. But the trivial things she's obsessing over—claiming I was keeping secrets—are nonsense. She was always kept in the loop regarding my other relationships, the issues I faced, and all those little details she was always so strangely interested in.

I know that real people stick around. This hit me hard, but maybe it's for the best. It's better to find out who the true friends are and cut ties with toxic connections. As for the people she's been gossiping about me to—she is incredibly venomous when she's annoyed with someone, so I highly doubt she wasn't dragging my name through the mud while she was "peacefully distancing herself"—well, hopefully, they have enough sense and memory to judge me based on how I actually treated THEM, rather than basing their opinion on her biased views.

There's no point in crying or overthinking this. I'm cutting off every information source related to her. I'm going to focus on myself, my hobbies, and my work. Like someone else mentioned, it shouldn't matter if you spend a few hours grabbing coffee with people just to feel better or to get validation from your circle. Whenever I want company, I have my family, and then there are those few real friends and the everyday ones I can go to a concert or head out with. Everything else is just forced, and it's too much mental energy to waste on stupidity when I could just relax and live in the moment. Real people will show up—they have to. And if they don't, I'm smart enough to know there are plenty of people out there who value me and won't walk away the second things get a little complicated.

I feel like I've hit rock bottom. And honestly, it’s not even about her—she’s irrelevant to this whole mess. It’s more that the fears I’ve been carrying my entire life are finally starting to manifest. It feels like everyone else has moved on. Everyone has their own lives, their own routines, while I’m still here, stuck caring about people who are far too preoccupied with their own old social circles and their own drama. I’m always the one trying to spark things up, the one trying to get the group together, but I never get anything back. I’m never the one getting the invite to grab coffee or hang out with their other friends; it’s always me initiating everything. It feels like I’m staring at a brick wall that I can’t jump over, walk around, or break through.

No matter how much I tried to be there for everyone—listening to their endless drama and being the shoulder to cry on—it feels like everyone just collectively decided to forget I exist. Now that they’ve got flashier things going on, like spending all their time hanging out with their boyfriends or hitting the beach with other friends, I’ve been pushed to the sidelines. I'm basically just an afterthought now, someone they only bother to respond to when they feel like grabbing a quick coffee.

I’m honestly fed up with being this dependent on everyone else and failing to find any sense of peace within myself. My whole life feels like it revolves around my social calendar—just constantly checking where I need to be and if every single day is going to be packed with plans. It’s exhausting. I’m in such a bad headspace right now that I actually canceled my coffee plans today. I just didn't want to be terrible company. Instead, I'm lying here wide awake since 5 a.m., feeling this heavy pain in my chest, and honestly, I just don't see a way out of this rut.

I’m nearing the end of my degree, and honestly, the thought of it terrifies me. Once I'm done, the lectures stop, and with them goes that forced social structure that actually puts me around people. I’ve had this remote job for about four years now, but lately, I haven't even been able to touch it because my motivation is completely shot. Aside from two amazing friends, I feel like I have nobody. They both have boyfriends, so they’re perfectly content just grabbing a drink with me instead of going out on the town. I get why they’re happy with that, but I can't force them to socialize the way I want to. Then again, I’m not even sure if that’s what I *actually* want, or if I just think I should want it because that's how everyone else seems to have fun. The truth is, I haven't even been enjoying myself when I do go out lately. I spend the whole time overthinking and planning the next move instead of just living in the moment.

I’m honestly just driving myself crazy. I can’t seem to find any happiness because I refuse to acknowledge how much I actually have going for me. I’m healthy, my parents are amazing, and my mom is someone I can talk to about absolutely anything—we share the same interests, so grabbing a coffee together is never boring. I have two brothers I can actually connect with, rather than us all just rotting in our own rooms like we’ve been doing lately. I’ve got pets, a side hustle that’s actually turning into a real business, and I finally picked up writing and photography again after being stuck in a rut for years. I’m almost done with my degree, too. I even have an offer to write for a local newspaper, but I keep stalling on the interview. Every time I take a job where I’m not my own boss, I end up quitting, and I’m terrified this will be the same thing. Then there’s this random seasonal job offer, but I don't feel like doing it when I know I could make the same money through my creative work (even if I do spend months doing nothing at all). Socially, things are weird. I have two close friends, maybe three or four others I can actually stand talking to, but lately, I feel like I’m always the one reaching out. I expect way more from them than they give back, which I know is stupid and unrealistic—people aren't mind readers, and their expectations shouldn't have to match mine. I also have this one really great friend I grab drinks with in the evenings, but now I’m paranoid he’s catching feelings that I just can't return. On paper, life is good: I have a roof over my head, I look good (despite my own body image issues), I have hobbies, and I’m definitely not stupid. But I’m so stuck on the past and on "better days." I keep waiting for people to pull me along, expecting constant companionship, even though I see everyone else shifting toward spending more time with family or focusing on their own interests instead of just hanging out at Starbucks all day. It feels like everyone else has figured it out and is more content, while I’m just sitting here feeling rejected and unloved—which, honestly, is exactly how I’ve felt my entire life.

Are these just clouds passing in front of the sun? Or is this something much deeper—something that requires sitting down with a therapist or a psychiatrist? Does anyone else feel this weight? This pressure that keeps me wide awake at night, making me run to the bathroom just to cry because I feel like nothing will ever be enough, and I’ll never truly be happy no matter what happens in my life. It’s this crushing sense that I’m already dreading New Year's Eve because I won't have anyone to celebrate with. Sometimes these seemingly trivial fears hit me so hard that I honestly don't know how to handle myself...

About a year ago, I was diagnosed with a mild heart issue—basically what they call "anxious heart." Lately, I’ve been dealing with constant chest pains and these stupid panic attacks because I constantly feel like I'm losing control of everything.

I have two really close friends whom I’ve talked to about this privately, and both told me the exact same thing you all did. I found out that even though she claimed to be an amazing friend and promised she’d never repeat our private conversations, she actually went behind my back and badmouthed me to our mutual acquaintances. It hurts incredibly much because those people aren't anyone I ever opened up to, and now they might be forming this image of me as some "pathetic, lifeless person" based entirely on her gossip. I honestly don't understand how much frustration someone has to carry to act like this. Because I didn't share every single intimate detail with her—which, frankly, is my right since some things are just PERSONAL—she decided to weaponize that and start spreading nonsense about me to people who don't even care.

It’s just depressing seeing how people operate. I feel completely isolated, like besides these two friends, there isn't a single soul she hasn't spoken ill of me to. I'll never truly know people's motives—whether I'm actually annoying others as much as I am her, or if anyone will ever just be honest with me. I worry everyone is just silently building up resentment for years while I'm over here doing everything I can to be a good, supportive friend who actually cares and wants to show up.

I’ve spent my whole life pretending everything was fine, mostly because I’ve been gaslighting myself into believing it was. I always put everyone else first, thinking I had to overcompensate and work twice as hard just to make someone want to stick around. I prioritized everything—literally everything—over my own needs and relationships. And all that effort? It just resulted in watching people treat me like an afterthought. They’ll look you right in the face and tell you, "Look, you're a friend, sure, but you aren't really part of my inner circle like the people I've known for a few years longer."

Honestly, I don't think it was ever a real friendship to begin with. It wasn't because of any "lies" on my part—I can point to a hundred times where I was completely transparent. I know this because I've spent the last week dissecting every single interaction we ever had. It wasn't real because she stopped seeing me as a human being once I stopped fitting her specific mold. When I finally broke down and opened up about my deepest, darkest fears, she didn't set her ego aside to try and help me through it. Instead, she just blamed me. She told me it was my own fault, said there are people out there with much bigger problems, and claimed I wasn't being "honest" with her. Now, she says she can't even look at me the same way anymore.

I feel terrible. I'm stuck in this loop of second-guessing everything, feeling like I'm completely alone in the world. It makes me wonder if this is just inevitable—if it's only a matter of time before this happens with everyone else, too. If it could happen with someone I actually trusted with my soul...

Honestly, I’m inclined to agree with that mindset, even if it isn't coming from a close friend. It was obvious she just wanted to cut ties and move on, but instead, she decided to dig up my personal business from years ago—stuff that had nothing to do with our friendship—just to judge who I am as a person. What really gets under my skin is this recurring urge I have to defend myself. I guess it's just a defense mechanism I've carried my whole life, but she won't let it go. Instead of just walking away, she keeps blowing up my phone with messages, trying to prove how much more "wrong" I am or telling me I'm overreacting because she knows someone else with bigger problems who acts differently. 🤷I honestly don't get the point. I've told her repeatedly to stop, explained my side, and made it clear I have zero interest in relitigating every little thing she decides to bring up.

I don't know, that would mean way too many relationships are fake. I'm not talking about being shady or deceptive; I just think we aren't always 100% transparent with everyone. We all have our own little hang-ups, private dilemmas, and tiny details that we don't feel the need to broadcast to the world—things we sometimes just want to work through on our own.

Why would anyone assume a relationship isn't healthy just because I don't know absolutely everything about another person? Regardless of how much I’ve changed after seeing my therapist, I don't know if I'll ever be the type of person who shares every single hope, anxiety, or minor joy with every single friend I have. She holds that against me, even though she hasn't been nearly as open as she claims I'm not. Sure, she's more "open" in the sense that she stands her ground, but plenty of times when I've asked if she was okay because it was obvious something was wrong, I'd just get canned clichés and "everything is fine." In those moments, my takeaway is usually that she'll tell me when things are serious and she's ready to talk. You can't really get mad at someone for keeping their own business to themselves.

All that other stuff is valid, and I already explained why I acted the way I did and apologized if I ever offended her or anyone else. But putting my entire character, my whole life, and everything I've struggled through under a microscope and wondering if I'm a horrible person doesn't help me one bit. Nor does it help her to act so insulted, calling me a liar and a terrible person. That's just not what real friends do—even while she insists she's being the perfect, loyal friend.

Hi everyone,

I won't drag this opening post out, so I’ll try to be brief. My entire life, I’ve struggled with my self-image. It stems from a medical condition diagnosed when I was a newborn, which led to five different surgeries between the ages of eight and seventeen. Because of that, I carry plenty of scars that people notice the moment they meet me. For a long time, I acted like it didn't bother me—I was great in school, had plenty of friends, and excelled at everything I put my mind to.

But there was always this wall I started building as a kid after a few uncomfortable encounters. I viewed many of my traits as weaknesses, and I refused to let anyone see me as weak, especially since they already saw me as vulnerable or "different" physically. I had a hard time accepting my own body, which resulted in me being very late to enter sexual relationships (I'm in my mid-twenties now) and never quite managing to sustain a serious romantic relationship; things always seemed to stall out early on. When I was around other women, I often lied about my experiences or withheld details just like most girls do.

In my friendships, I always went the "extra mile"—being the one who accommodates everyone, helps out, lends money, or provides a shoulder to cry on. I was accommodating to a fault, always ready to help, only to realize later that it was just another coping mechanism. It was a fear that if I wasn't perfect, I wouldn't be accepted; because I felt "flawed" in one area, I felt I had to give 150% in others so people wouldn't leave me or make fun of me.

I only became aware of all this this past year. It’s been a lot of tears, sleepless nights, internal battles, and dark thoughts. I’m planning to see a therapist or psychiatrist, which is something I’ve never done before.

So, what's the issue, and why am I posting this? Well, once I realized what was happening and tried to address it, I started opening up to my close female friends about what has been tormenting me. While some reacted beautifully and offered support and conversation, I ran into a few who simply don't get it.

One friend in particular really hurt me. She’s grown cold toward me because she feels like I've been projecting my own dissatisfactions onto our friendship (for example, saying it was fine if she didn't want to grab coffee, but then getting upset later when she actually went and told me she could have called me instead). I apologized for all of it and laid my soul bare, explaining my struggles with self-esteem. I told her that my behavior was a learned response—that I often said "it's fine" because I didn't want to center myself or turn minor things into an issue.

She claims I'm being dishonest, that I'm a fake friend, and that she’s never experienced real emotion from me. We’ve been friends for seven years, and I truly don't believe I've been a bad friend. I was always there to listen, I always wanted to hang out (even though she was often preoccupied with her "better" friends while I was just the person available for emails or checking in when she was impossible to grab for a quick coffee), I was there whenever she needed financial help, I was there to comfort her, I gave her little gifts, passed along clothes I didn't wear, stood up for her, and spoke up when she was in trouble. I feel like I've shown plenty of emotion in this friendship. But she says that isn't true friendship. She’s bothered by the fact that small things might bother me even though I used to say they didn't, and she's upset that I didn't share every single detail about the guys I was seeing in the way she expects.

I apologized for my actions, explained what the problem was and what it still is, and showed her my greatest vulnerability and my genuine desire to change, even though it isn't easy. Her reaction? She basically said our relationship isn't what she thought it was and that she wants to distance herself. She told me I shouldn't have acted that way, that there are people with much bigger problems who aren't like this, that it's my own fault, and that she wishes me luck with future relationships and hopes I don't ruin every connection I have.

Am I the only one who totally misread her, or am I just pouring my heart out to someone who refuses to get it? Should I apologize for how I’ve acted—you know, all those unconscious mistakes I made that ended up hurting me more than anyone else? Do I need to say sorry for being guarded about certain things? For the times I couldn't stand up for myself, saying everything was fine when it clearly wasn't, or even being oblivious to the fact that things were going south?

I've felt like absolute garbage all week since she said all that. It’s always me, the one constantly apologizing. She went on such a tear, throwing all these ugly things at me and dragging up little details I thought we had already moved past. I don't believe in digging up the past like that; either you settle things immediately or you let them go. It feels low. Instead, I feel like she's just writing me off, weaponizing every flaw she can find, even after I tried to show her how much I've been struggling and how shitty I've felt over the last year and a half.

I honestly don't even know what I want right now. Maybe I just need an outside perspective. I don't want to vent to our other friends because this is strictly between the two of us. Is it possible that my past traumas combined with my tendency to shut down are just relationship killers? Are all my friendships actually fake if I haven't always been completely transparent? I spent my whole life being dishonest with myself, and only now am I starting to open up—both to myself and to the people I actually care about.