The Sickening Addictive Loop of Checking Her Profile and Poisoning My Own Peace

Dear Delyara, I know exactly what social media is. I know it’s a highly curated, heavily filtered lie designed to sell a lifestyle. Yet, like a moth addicted to the very flame that burns it, I spent two hours tonight scrolling through her announcement posts. She looks radiant. Her flat has high ceilings, beautiful plants, and the kind of clean, minimalist light that doesn't seem to exist in my drafty apartment. Every swipe felt like a deliberate blow to my own stomach. I look at my life—my chipped mugs, my mismatched socks, my lonely dinners—and I feel like a lower-tier human being who has lost a race she didn't even want to enter. I am my own executioner tonight.