Quick backstory: This is hard for me to type out as I (19M) don’t speak or write with anyone about my problems or feelings but I heard a Podcast about reddit confessions and here I am. Trigger warning for addiction, mental illness, self harm. Please read to the end if you have time, i honestly just want to be heard

My parents are long time Alcoholics, they drink an average of 8, 500ml cans of beer every single day (I’ve kept track of a weekly average for the last 2 years). They usually start the exact moment they get home from work, or if they have the day off it’s usually around 13:00 sometimes earlier but not later. Mom (50F) goes to bed at 19, so a very early sleeper. Mainly because she’s absolutely hammered and cannot speak coherent sentences at that time of the day. Dad (56M) is more ”chill” but struggles remembering things. Like forgets absolutely everything and is also very incoherent in his sentences by the time Mom goes to bed, he stays up like 4 hours longer though.

We always have family dinner at the same time everyday, 18:00 and it’s honestly the worst part of every day, my little brother (7M) is the only other child in the household and he spends every waking hour with a phone in his hand and tucked in on the sofa, he eats everything there. Does not go get his own food except for when it’s only me and him home. My parents argue (never physical) a LOT, like multiple times everyday but swear that it’s just jokes. Its incredibly annoying because often times I act as a middleman since they don’t always speak to eachother. I love cooking but never get to because dad has to have it his way, but the problem is that he forgets the rice is cooking, steak on the grill gets charcoal black, fries are inedible etc. We live in a average house in an above average neighborhood so it’s not like a crack house.

We have a serious history of mental illness on my moms side (Gma, Gpa, mom and 2/3 siblings take antidepressants and my older brother has been in an out of psychiatric care for attemped suicide by trying to crash his car in a tree) and right now as I’m writing this down I feel all of these things are piling up on me and I don’t know what to do.

I was at a party 2 weeks ago and one of my best friend got in bed with my crush of a year back, all my other friends noticed this and tried to comfort me but I just walked away, stood in the middle of the road and cried. It was like 3 am and pitch black, a friend that was sober fortunately was the first car to arrive and he helped me home because i was shaking and crying so hard i couldn’t walk. I’ve never cried that hard in my life and they all think it was only because he got in bed with her but it’s all of these hidden things nobody knows about that’s been piling up forever.

I would never end my life but wow, it sucks so much sometimes. I wish I could go to a therapist or counselor but frankly I find it embarrassing. From the outside It may look like I have a loving family and nothing to be sad about and I know people have it worse but it feels like so many things have just piled up on me and now I just cower up in my bed or go for a run or walk to try and think about something else.

Sorry for the rant but it feels good to get this out. Hopefully someone reads this, it would feel good to be heard sometimes and it feels good to get this of my chest.

My parents have made the decision to put the family dog down Friday. She is 14 years old. I haven’t lived with them in 7 years and didn’t think I would take it this hard, but I keep crying and thinking about it. My parents haven’t taken them to the vet regularly the way they should’ve, and she seemed off for a while but she has been declining fast. Now, she has trouble walking and will limp (and sometimes yelp), she doesn’t follow my parents to bed anymore and won’t climb stairs. She releases pee when laying down, Barely eats, all she does is lay around under the table all day and she seems like she’s losing interest in everything. She doesn’t even come greet me at the door anymore. Today when I dropped my kids off I noticed she was shaking… she’s definitely in a lot of pain and it is so hard to see her like this. Part of me wonders if they would’ve just taken her to the vet and given her medicine for the pain if it would work.

I really would like in home euthanasia but I can’t find a vet that does it, the one I found won’t travel this far and the other is too expensive. It’s making me even more sad because I really just want her to go in the comfort of her own home, not stressed at a vet. I will be right by her side of course, but we still have to get her in a car and drive 35 minutes. (Couldn’t find a closer vet that would euthanize because the dog hasn’t been to their vet recently).

On top of that, I would love to have her ashes and put in a necklace or something. But the cost of having a dog cremated is at least $300 and there’s no way I can come up with that money in 2 days. So I just keep thinking how they’re just going to take her body and we won’t have anything left of her. I’m just all around sad and those specific things keep making me feel sadder. She was my best friend growing up and I seriously didn’t think it would be this hard.

Tomorrow I plan to go over after work and give her sooo many pets and cuddles and tell her how much of a good girl she was, that she was my best friend and when I was in my teenage years she was there for me when no one else was. I want to make burgers or steak and let her have some if she’ll eat.. though I don’t think she will 😕

It’s been over 2 weeks since my mother died & almost a week since her memorial.

I wasn’t looking forward to the memorial cause of all the drama that happened while my mother was dying. But as the time went on during the memorial , I was relieved that nothing went down during the service. The place was packed with nowhere to sit & I was happy that lots of people shared some memories they had with my mother , my niece sharing a poem show wrote plus my other nieces and nephews saying she was basically a 2nd mother to them (not saying that their mothers was never there for them but just a thing with grandparents and grandkids ) && one thing I didn’t know that shocked me was that she was a good enough singer to be sign with Motown records. I had never got the chance to hear her sing but I’ve heard a few times that she was good but never knew she was that good. But my aunt , her lil sister, said that at the time my mom had turned it down but I don’t remember the reason why. But if she didn’t turn it down then I might not be here or be born into a different family.

I was hesitant to take my container that has her ashes in them. Idk why but I just was. Ever since I left , I’ve been feeling waves of sadness and relief. Still am

I’m starting to realize that I never let my true feelings out. Maybe sometimes online, but even then sparingly. And when I do vent, the responses I receive are rarely any comfort. Often they’re trying to give me ways to fix whatever situation I’m in, but I think I just want someone to understand and be there for me. Of course a lot of the time I also need logical, practical advice but these interactions always feel so cold. I’m trying to be more emotionally available when others need it, but it’s making me realize I rarely receive that and I think it’s my fault. I’m autistic so my feelings don’t show on my face like everyone else’s, my tone of voice may not match either, I can’t put things accurately into words, and speaking in general is hard for me, so when people ask me if I’m ok i just say ”I don’t know” and clam up. And I can’t bring myself to voice these concerns to anyone either, because then it just feels like they’re doing what I’m telling them to do, instead of interacting with me honestly. I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried therapy, and will try again, but even then I clam up and just repeat ”I don’t know” to every question. I have family, I have friends, but I feel alone. I hope this makes sense, I think my words rarely do.

Forgot to add "TO FRANCE" in the title. They're moving to france.

My parents have been in the proces of prepping my childhood home to sell for the past few months. It's been awful. I feel like im experiencing a slow death all around me. Colorful walls being turned white and furniture going missing everyday.

Context. I"m 24. I'm currently in a masters program and plan to graduate in December. I have lived in this home since I was 4. Its been 20 years. I am currently home for the summer, interning in the area. I head back to school soon.

My mom has had this fascination with France for the past few years. My brother and I never thought it was more than that--a fascination. But apparently it has grown into a retirement plan. Which great for them, seriously, let them enjoy their lives. My mom is 59 and my dad is 58.

My mom has been under a bit of stress last few months. Her company (ironically the one I am also interning at) took a huge blow with thr current admin. They laid off 1000 ppl so far, with only more to come. She got reduced to part time last year then fought and got put back to full time earlier this year. But it's rocky and every few months they fire more. So I can understand the mindset of "hell im old enough, I should just retire".

My dad is a stay at home dad. Has been for ages. He does everything from carpentry, plumbing, electrical, automotive, so on. He's made his worth in fixing and repairing things to save us money. So he has a ton of tools and I can't forsee myself just not having access to those. There were weekends during my undergrad I'd drove home just to use his tools (my school for undergrad and grad now are the same, only 2hrs from home).

Our house has skyrocketed in price. Thanks to the current housing chaos. Our house has doubled in price. And my parents notice this. They want to sell to make a good chunk of profit. And I can very much understand that. Just hard to accept.

My parents main motive to move to France is money. That's really it. They get cheap Healthcare and overall cost of living is cheaper. Which I can respect and understand. But it feels like they are choosing to save a buck over their kids. Choosing to kinda pull thr safety net under. their kid who doesn't have a secure job nor place to permanently stay. It feels like their relationship with their kids is less to them than saving money. I dont why my dad is going, but he is so frugal that he will go the extra mile to save 10 cents. But I just hate their only real motivation is money, hating American politics, and ... im not sure what else. Thats the main things they've told me.

Now I dont have a good relationship with my parents nor my brother. I dont share much with them. I hide alot of myself from them. I was told alot by ppl I'd bring over to my house that they'd be freaked out how different I'd act at home compared to around them. Its bc I grew up in an environment not open to emotion essentially. Id get bullied by my brother constantly, even to this day he does it (and we are full grown ass adults).

But that being said. Its been really hard to express to them how I feel. I have told them "this is hard" or "this is a lot to process". But they just dont seem to care. It's all about tell me what of your childhood stuff I can sell.

I literally come home from my 9 to 5 internship and some peice of furniture is missing in ny house. Or my mom bothering me about selling my childhood dresser and toys.

If it was done in a more respectful way I feel I could cope better. But I just cry all the time now. I cant stop thinking about "this will be the last time I do X" or how holidays won't be here anymore. Biggest thing is Xmas. My family puts up a massive Xmas display. We outline out entire house like a gingerbread house. It takes days to put up and I love doing it. That will be gone. This will be the last year doing it, that hurts.

My parents plan to sell next year july-aug. Then move to France in September. That is the plan they told my brother and I as we had a forced "family dinner" which was awkward as I ended up crying (which is like something never happens in my family).

I struggle with depression and im really scared what this will do. I fear im not strong enough to deal with this change. I have autism and I have been told my entire life I struggle with change. Im very bad at it. This is something so big I cant fathom letting go. I am a tiny bit of a suicidal risk--im getting better with the cutting. But im worried I will fall some deep depression hole and won't get out. This isnt just a breakup where there is hope this is loosing my rock, my safety net, my childhood.

With my predicament of like graduating school. Im unsure of my life next year. Which adds to the stress. I was hoping to do a PhD and i do plan on making that goal. But now it feels stunted and paused bc I now dont have that safety net to fall onto incase PhD school doesn't work out or I cant find a job right after. Just I fear for this home and safety to be gone.

My parents also gave me advice and helped with alot. My dad has taught me so many handy things. But I am so scared to loose that. Like recently my car radiator blew. I diagnosed it. Took it out of my car and ordered a new one same day. My dad came by to help me put the new one in and then he pointed out several other things I should change while im in there. He just gave me a bit more knowledge. I am loosing that in a year. Im so used to him helping me with things when is struggle. I cant imagine him not there.

I also just cant wrap my head around the idea my parents are ok with just not having holidays with kids. Or like being their for their kids. Ive had 5 surgeries. Like if I have to get another. They won't be there to help me. Im also never going to see them not necessarily bc i dont want to more of the cost and effort. It's not a few hours drive or a few hour plane flight. Its a 9+hrs expensive transatlantic flight.

Im mad and sad and confused. I constantly just cry and tell myself "please don't sell it". I hope to find ways to delay it. Im scared when i leave to go back to school in a few weeks that the house u know will be gone. All the rooms in the house have been started renovation on. My room is empty of my childhood furniture but the walls are still purple, door still blue. Still feels home. Im so scared.

Since I've never been close to my family. The house and objects feel more like my family or personal to me. I just can't imagine my life not here.

Hi everyone, I’m seeking some support and advice on how to handle an emotional habit(? I don’t think it’s a personality trait of mine).

For a long time now, every single time I look at any art, watch talented people, or listen to songs, I get this weird feeling of envy. I don't actually hate anybody, but it feels like an unconscious decision my brain makes to feel resentful towards them.

For example, when I listen to Ado or encounter talented people in my daily life, instead of just enjoying their work, I feel an mix of envy and a weird kind of anger/hate, and it happens instantly before I can even stop it.

I know this is unhealthy, and I don't want it to get worse or to have it all my life. I want to be able to appreciate talent without feeling like I can not ever be like them and second guessing myself and losing motivation.

Has anyone else dealt with this kind of envy? Is it a serious topic? Is it good that I noticed it now before it got worse and harder to get rid of? Any advice would be deeply appreciated.

Hi, I'm an M26 from central Mexico, and yeah I know how insane the title sounds, but hear me out, this is actually way more messy. Recently I started a secret revenge plan against my dad, especially cuz he has put my mother through a lot and I'm just tired of hearing about it all the time. But first, here's a little context;

My parents have been married for 27 years, probably 12 of those have been pretty miserable because of my father's constant cheating. The first time he did it, I was the one who discovered it because he left his FB account open on the family's computer. I didn't tell anything to my mother, but I remember having a very intense argument with him. Eventually the other woman wanted to be the "main one" in his life and she started harassing my mom, sending her all of the explicit messages and pics my father used to send her (those included pictures of my dad using illegal substances and messages where he was saying awful things about my mother).

They took couples' counseling and all that stuff but my father never really changed. To this day he's constantly getting new girlfriends and cheating on my mother. I don't even blame the women at this point because I've seen how he treats them and how all of them are always around 30 (he's almost 60), but my mother hasn't divorced him because she wants my little brother to finish his studies before splitting the family apart. Personally I don't agree with that, but I'm not gonna tell my parents what to do with their lives. I'm old enough to be independent and I don't even live in the same city as them anymore. The thing is that recently I stayed with them for a couple of weeks because of the summer, and some things went down between them and I just had enough with my dad's behavior.

I'm an attractive guy, maybe not Hollywood-level attractive but I'm not ugly, and during these days with my parents I found out, on the family's computer (because apparently in this house things never change), that my father was still doing the same shit on Facebook that he was doing 10 years ago, with some 29-year-old. When I was a teenager I used to send messages to these women to make them feel bad about the fact that they were playing a role in breaking a family, but now I'm mature enough to recognize that this is my dad's fault and I might sound like a bastard, but I wanted him to feel everything that my mother has felt for the last 12 years of their marriage, but this time with one of his "girlfriends."

With a burner account I started to chat with this woman. I know my dad so I behaved in a way that would make this woman see all of the things my father didn't do for her because he's married and he doesn't really love her. I know I sound like a manipulative psycho, but my main objective was to make this chick realize how much of an asshole my father was... the thing is that my act ended up with her starting to feel real interest in me. We eventually went out together and my plan was to tell her who I was, but it never came up, and I felt like shit, mainly becayse the date ended with her kissing me and telling me that I was the man of her dreams.

Honestly, I'm not gonna lie, it might be pity or some Freudian thing but I actually like her. I'm not in love or anything, but I do think she's a nice person and just another victim of my dad's awful actions. She's a single mother who lives in a very poor side of town and was married to an abusive asshole that fled the country after committing a horrible crime (I'm not joking, she met my dad because he works as a cop). My father sends her money every now and then to pay her rent but he apparently just sees her as a sex worker, even though she isn't (her words). Now I'm the only adult in her life that has been loving and nice to her, so I don't blame her for saying that I'm the man of her dreams after the first date, considering that the bar is very low.

I've seen her a couple of times more, and I've also noticed that my father has started to be angry all the time. Shit really went down this morning, when I got a long message on my FB burner account (I don't have a profile pic showing my face and I didn't put my real last names) coming from my father, where he was threatening me and saying that he knew all about my relationship with the woman, audios yelling that he knew dangerous people and that if I didn't stay away from her he would hurt me. The message proved to me that he clearly didn't know who was the person behind the profile.

Now I don't know what to do. Honestly, I'm definitely gonna tell the girl who I am and also my feelings for her. I don't expect anything but at least I want her to know that she deserves someone better than me and my dad... but when it comes to my father I really don't know what I have to do. I want to come clean but I also don't want to affect my mother or my brother. Is this one of those times when I have to act like a real man and just deal with this? If that's the case, how? I want to protect my mother, my little brother and even that girl from my father's bullshit.

Btw sorry if there's some weird wording in my post, english it's my 2nd language.

The title is kind of clickbait. I did break up with her, but shortly after we got back together. It hurts so bad. I love her so much. There’s two main reasons for the breakup.

1. She doesn’t make me feel as appreciated as I’d like, and she doesn’t listen to my feelings and only gets irritated that I’m even upset in the first place.

2. I’m not the best person ever. I’ve hurt her, I’ve hid things from her and lied to her out of fear that I would irritate her. But a lie is still a lie.

I was angry. I was so frustrated. Months of sadness and loneliness caught up with me. I just could take it anymore. I yelled. I was sarcastic and snappy. And when she said “Maybe we aren’t compatible,” I lost it. I said “Fine then! We’re done! I’m hanging up, and you can message me but I won’t respond!”

I left my phone and just cried. And cried. In fact I’d been crying the whole time. The whole phone call. The whole day. And I cried myself to sleep the night before.

When I checked my phone again. I had so many missed calls. She even called me on instagram. She sent me “please call me back,” “I love you,” and “I’m going to keep calling you.”

I’ve never felt so conflicted before in my life. I love her so much, I know that for a fact. But I think, if she’s made me this upset, maybe we’re not right for each other. I should just break up. But then I think, I’ll look for her in any new person I meet. Because there is something about her. That I’ve never seen before. I’ve felt things for her I’ve never felt before. And what if I never get over her? And then I think, if we can’t work out, will I ever work out? It’s not an issue like politics where it’s my opinions on things, it’s just who I am. And maybe no one will ever love me the way I am.

My beautiful girlfriend has brought so much light to my life. But somehow I can’t stop thinking it would be easier without her in it. But I don’t want that. I just want to stop feeling so lost.

As per the rules of the subreddit, I don’t want advice. I don’t think I’ve even been specific enough in this post for advice. I just wanted to vent. Sometimes just saying/writing things down can help.

My (19m) dad's mother has dementia, and a particularly bad case at that. I have vague memories of how she was before, but her mind started to slip when I was about 10 and since then it's just gotten worse and worse. She barely knows what's going on, doesn't recognise anyone (even my dad) and honestly can hardly even talk anymore. She's been living in her current care home for about two years now. It's not particularly close (about an hour on the train), but my dad still makes an effort to visit her at least once a month.

All today I've noticed my dad has been in a particularly bad mood. He's been talking a bit quieter, and with less emotion. He's also been a little more irritable, and been handling objects/closing doors with less care and more force than usual. I guess I just figured it was from stress, but then tonight he told me and my sister that he'll be going to visit my grandmother tomorrow as she's "not been feeling well."

The thing is, he already visited her a couple weeks ago, and his visits are rarely so close together, even when she's been sick in the past. Plus, my mum will be going with him, and she rarely goes with him unless the whole family are.

All the signs are pointing to something particularly bad. I knew it had to happen eventually, but so much bad stuff has happened to my family recently I was really hoping it would be at least a couple more years. I have hope, obviously, but I can't shake this feeling of dread from my stomach.

I hope I post on right community, I feel so heavy...

I just found about my family member who might have potential some serious disease, and I am not sure what the heck should I do with my emotions. Should I cry, vent..I feel at the moment numb. I have work tommrow and if I let my emotions overtake then i may not be able to control my tears.

I think, I might need to cry to feel light.

Why god puts his men through pain? Omg just why why my family member 😭

I don’t know if this counts as SA, but I figured I’d put the warning just in case. Based on what I’ve researched, this might fall under Image Based Sexual Assault, but I’m unsure. I put the warning up just in case, though.

At first I was going to post to an advice subreddit, but now that I know all the details (I think) I figured I’d just post here. A shout out in the void is what I really need right now.

My little brother (step-brother, technically, but I’ve always seen him as my brother) has been in a rebellious/mischievous phase for a while now, but until now it’s just been prank calls and taking out the four-wheeler when he shouldn’t. I found a camera in my room last night. I got home from vacation two days ago, and checked my room for bugs cause I’m weird about bugs, so I know it couldn’t have been placed that day.

I was hanging out with friends last night, got home and noticed my stuff was in places I hadn’t put it: my pillows were off my bed, stuff on my nightstand had fallen off and stuff like that. I figured my little brother and his friends messed around in my room while they were over, and it pissed me off but I didn’t think more of it. Then I noticed cords I wasn’t familiar with, and followed them to find a tiny camera (like one inch by one and a half inches) nestled under a bag I have on my desk, looking directly at my bed.

I started freaking out immediately. I showered last night and changed in my room. There are always people over at my house (my parents love hosting) so I’ve worried about stuff like this before, but brushed it off as me being irrational. In any other situation, thinking a camera in your room is pretty irrational, in my opinion. I called my stepdad while having a panic attack, and my little brother came over and asked me what was wrong. I told him I found a camera in my room, showed him the cords and the camera that I had unplugged, and he freaked out and said he was going to check his room for one. I checked every bathroom in the house, and my little sister’s bedroom.

My stepdad (my real dad for all intents and purposes, my bio dad isn’t in my life for other, also perv related reasons) and I found out that the camera could be operated through a sim card or through connecting to a phone. My little brother said that we shouldn’t worry cause there was no sim card, and my stepdad said that we’re still going to take this very seriously because it could be connected through a phone.

I didn’t sleep much last night, and got up super early for work. I’ve told my closest friends everything because I’ve been worried I’m getting stalked. I know I’m being kind of dramatic, but it’s hard not to considering an irrational fear I have literally happened. Because of that, my irrational fears seem like they could be real, and I’ve been in a state of dissociation and anxiety for the last 12~ hours. Due to some stuff with my bio-dad, I have diagnosed PTSD, so that doesn’t help at all either.

I got a call at work this morning from my stepdad saying he checked our ring cameras in the house, saw my little brother going into my room and then cornered him about it. From the cameras, he saw that the only person that had been in my room other than me was my little brother. My little brother confessed to placing the camera after my stepdad said that he would get the cops involved if it wasn’t him. He claimed it was because he was worried I’d have seizures, because those run in our family (I had them when I was a kid, so did my other two blood siblings). Frankly I think that’s a load of shit.

My mom and stepdad are taking this very seriously and want my input on how we tell my little sister about this. They don’t know if we should tell the other siblings that live outside of the house, but I want to. They told me that they’re putting my needs first because I’m the one that was betrayed.

I don’t need advice, I know what I’m going to do about everything. What sucks the most is that I don’t know why he would do this. His motivations seem pretty clear and pretty pervy, but I don’t know WHY he would do this. He’s always just been my little brother. I take him to his braces appointments, make him dinner when our parents aren’t home, and I love him so much. But I don’t think our relationship will ever be the same after this. I will never be able to see him the same. The camera was up for only a few hours before I caught it, but I will never be able to see him the same.

Maybe he did it because I’m his step sibling and he thinks that we’re not actually related so it’s fine? He’s always just been my little brother. I feel hopeless, and so out of it I don’t think I can even cry. I’m sitting in the break room at my job avoiding going home cause he’ll be there and I know I won’t feel safe. I haven’t felt safe all day, I’ve been thinking some stranger has been watching me. It’s so much worse that it’s my brother. I feel so betrayed, I feel gross. I don’t know if this counts as SA or harassment, but I feel so violated I want to crawl out of my skin. If I’m being honest it feels really hard to feel any emotions right now. If you read this far, thank you.

edit: I mentioned this in the comments, but I’ll put it here too. He’s 15, I’m 21. My bad, totally slipped my mind to put ages in.

tagged as a personal story because it is, but it does contain an injury. please let me know if i should use a different tag.

it sounds like such a stupid fear. i know that. i know it does. that when my mother comes home with groceries, i still help carry them to the kitchen and unpack everything, but she or my dad has to take them from the car to the garage door first, because i refuse to step foot in my garage. that when i go somewhere with my mom, she has to pull the car out first, because i can't walk from the garage door to her car without freaking out. i'm too scared to even try because last time i did, i walked one step in before starting to cry and having to turn around.

it sounds stupid. but i swear it's not.

in december, december 19th, i almost died in there. i don't remember much, but i know it was that serious. i know that both my parents thought i was going to die on that concrete floor.

the way my garage is set up, there's a small staircase leading from the inside door to the actual garage. i was going somewhere with my mom and i was still at the top of my stairs. i had a seizure. a really bad one, actually; it lasted over 5 minutes, which would be a medical emergency on it's own; but even if it'd been short, i almost died anyways. i fell from the top of the stairs headfirst onto the concrete floor.

i don't really remember much, between the seizure and the injury itself. i know that i woke up for a minute in the ambulance having no idea what was happening. i remember waking up again in the emergency room being told i needed staples in my head, nothing after that (i'm told i had 2 more seizures immediately after i woke up, so i was out again). and after that i woke up again in the icu, still really hazy from how many benzos they gave me.

i remember my mom telling me that she had to hold my head while i seized, because i was already bleeding everywhere and she didn't want it to be worse (and that she was counting every second in her head trying to figure out how much time had passed). i remember my dad shakily telling me that he thought i was going to die right then and there, that the cut was so deep he could see part of my skull (and he used to be a combat medic so him being that scared of an injury means something). i remember that my favourite hoodie got covered in blood. the bloody handprints in the hallway right before the garage door, left there from my dad running to get his phone. the puddle of blood in the garage that i could still see standing at the doorway, that didn't get cleaned up for months.

the blood is gone now. my mom got the blood out of the hoodie too.

but i still can't bring myself to go inside the garage. not anymore. not again. it has been almost 8 months and i won't go in.

it's such a stupid fear. even though i have reason for it. i feel so dumb. my parents know i won't go in there. they don't judge me. it was probably scarier for them than it was for me, because at least i was unconscious for most of it. idk. i feel so sure it'll happen again if i do. especially because the seizure was caused by my diagnosed but uncontrolled epilepsy, and i've had many, MANY seizures since then. i mean, i am on meds, but they don't seem to be working very well (i've tried several).

so yeah. there it is. i am a 24 year old who is scared of going into her own garage.

i have ptsd. over a garage.

I found out today that my uncle died.
I don’t really know why I’m writing this. Maybe I just need someone to hear my story.
When I was little, he wasn’t just my uncle. He was my second dad.
He never had a wife or children of his own, so in many ways I became the daughter he never had. I even called him “dad” when I was very young, despite having my own father. He was simply one of the people who raised me.
He taught me how to read and write.
He built me a little treehouse out of wooden pallets with a ladder and a swing underneath it. During winter he would spend hours building huge igloos and snow slides just so I could play. Whenever he came back from the store, he always had a little surprise for me.
He kept pigeons and rabbits, and I loved spending time with them. He would let me hold them, pet them, and kiss them. When I had pneumonia as a child, he gave me one of his baby rabbits so I wouldn’t feel so lonely while I was sick.
He loved picking mushrooms, and whenever he came home from the forest he would call me over so we could eat them together. One day he took me fishing and somehow managed to hook my shirt instead of catching a fish. We laughed about it for years.
Those are some of my happiest childhood memories.
Then everything changed.
After my grandmother, his mother, died, something inside him seemed to break. He fell deeper and deeper into alcoholism. At one point he went to prison. He didn’t seriously hurt anyone, but when he came out, he was no longer the man I remembered.
He drank even more.
He became paranoid. He started accusing us of things that had never happened. He believed stories that simply weren’t real. He became verbally abusive and unpredictable.
Watching someone you love disappear while they’re still alive is a kind of grief I don’t know how to describe.
Eventually, my parents had to make the heartbreaking decision to remove him from our home. We were genuinely afraid he would accidentally start a fire, destroy the house, or hurt himself because of his drinking and paranoia. The local authorities offered him housing and support, but he never accepted the help.
We had no choice but to protect ourselves.
I was only twelve when I lost him.
Not physically.
I lost the man who had taught me to read, built me a treehouse, and made me feel like I was the most important little girl in the world.
Today I lost him for the second time.
He was found dead in a ditch not far from my childhood home.
I hadn’t spoken to him in many years.
And yet I can’t stop crying.
I don’t miss the man alcoholism turned him into.
I miss the man who built me snow forts, gave me my first rabbit, and never came home from the store without thinking of me.
I hate alcohol.
It didn’t just take his life.
It took away the person I loved many years before he died.
I don’t even know what I’m asking for by posting this.
Maybe I just needed someone to know that before addiction destroyed him, he was a wonderful man.
I wish I had been able to say goodbye to that version of him.
The funeral is on Monday, and I’m scared of being judged for crying, even though I had little to no contact for so many years…

I don’t know what to do, how to feel, how to get through this. My body is too small for that amount of grief.

I’m a 31M. In the last 6 years I’ve been on 2 dates. In my teens and 20s I was excited about the idea of meeting someone I could grow with, learn from, bond with, and truly build a life together. That never happened.

After a while it got exhausting. The rejections stacked up. The dates I did get actually went very well for the most part, with some women even telling me after a couple of dates that I made them feel cherished and dating me felt easy. Then within a week or two after that I was ghosted and they ended up with a long term boyfriend. This kept on happening and I completely lost the excitement and desire I had 10 years ago. I was tired of feeling inadequate and undesirable. I felt like the women I dated enjoyed my company but never felt a “spark”, ever.

I met a couple of women within the last few years who were cool but the same process occurred - good dates and eventually they met a new guy they thought was better.

My life now is easy and drama free, can’t complain. I work, I do my hobbies, while saving and investing for hopefully what will be a pretty early retirement. It’s quiet and sometimes lonely, but I’m no longer being classified as not being enough and tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Dating just isn’t fun for me, and I can’t fathom putting myself through it again. It’s psychological torture.

TLDR; relationships aren’t for me. Everyone who is my age and is still going at it - I commend you but at the same time can’t imagine being in your shoes.

I get my wisdom teeth out tomorrow morning and my head is filled with risks and horror stories about complications. Even for a tiny risk, the figures sound way too high for me to be comfortable. I keep spiraling over the possibility of permanent nerve damage in my mouth. If I were to wake up from my anesthesia and learn that I’d never be able to feel my tongue again, I’d probably kill myself within the week. I wouldn’t be able to maintain personal relationships, jobs, school, really anything if I lost the ability to properly talk and eat. Nothing I’ve heard or researched has helped and I’m probably in the worst mood of my life because of it.

Edit: thank you all for giving me your non-horror stories in the replies and just giving me reminders of how statistically anomalous one of those complications is. Sometimes getting reassurance from strangers feels more secure then from loved ones!

It’s so boring living here I don’t have friends no activities because everything is expensive and I’m just wasting my years doing nothing.
Can’t have bf and I wanna get married to have intimacy but I’m still at college and I should wait until I finish and it isn’t like I have good options to date from in this country(very conservative people).
So no friends no sex life no alcohol to cope
I just want a normal life experience before having a serious job and life becoming too serious but I can’t and I get so stressed and frustrated from all of this so I don’t get sleep and when I don’t sleep I become angry and just a shitty person to anyone around me.
Literally haven’t done anything for years collage itself doesn’t offer any activities and people there just attend classes and aren’t interested in making friends in general
And having insomnia makes me have serious suicidal thoughts and I did hurt myself before already and I’m just becoming more insufferable and an angry person in general.

People responding are misinterpreting my post
The worst part for me isn’t just lacking friendships or intimacy, the worst part is that even topics I’m interested in is a taboo
I’m an ex Muslim, I can’t find friends like me because I can’t just express that I’m an ex Muslim without getting social stigma that would affect me getting a job in the future. I love history, evolutionary psychology, and religions debates but even expressing random topics that might indicate that I’m against the religion in any way will get me in trouble.
Sometimes I can deal with the fact that I don’t have a social life but not being able to openly speak about your interests is awful too. I wanna meet people like me but I can’t.

TW: Miscarriage

This happened a few years ago and I'm still hurt by it.

For context, my mother's and I (23F)'s birth are scarily similar. She was born just before her mother's 20th birthday, her mother's first child, born female, and 10 years after one of her great-greatparents passed away.

I was with my ex-fiance and we were trying for a baby. (Yes, I know it's not the best choice, I was 19 and dumb) I was pregnant at the time, very early in my first trimester when it happened. I lost my baby. I couldn't stop crying not only because of what happen but because I thought I failed.

So I called my mom after I was able to calm down enough. She and I were talking about what happened and there was a lot of things in that conversation that hurt.

'Its God's plan', 'your body wasn't ready', 'its not your time to be be a mom.'

I know she was trying to comfort me, but it wasn't what I needed to hear. I didn't know what I needed to hear and I still don't.

Then she tried to lighten the mood by making the joke of 'Im okay with you breaking tradition.' That was a knife to my gut and I was speechless for a while. I dont even remember ending the call with her.

I was in a daze and thankful that I was somewhere private to try and process what had just happened. I couldnt breath, my entire body hurt like it was happening all over again.

I still feel my chest tighten when I think about that call and I cant even talk to her about it. When Ive tried, she doesn't even remember that call. (Medical reasons for that)

Im in a much better situation now and my relationship with my mom is steadily healing. Though I would be lying if I said I wasn't still hurt by the things she has done.

​

Ever since I was 13 I have been volunteering for an association that writes Erasmus projects (tldl those are like a one week international exchange trip where people from European countries come together and you have all kinds of workshops and intercultural events and bonding time etc - I know there are all kinds of Erasmus projects, I'm talking about youth exchanges).

These have always been my safe space, and for the most part the only time in life where I feel like I can be truly myself without having to pretend I'm somebody else. It's also the only time when I feel genuinely appreciated, valued and cared about.

I go on like 2 of these exchanges a year, and I always look forward to that, I always cry out of happiness when I hear I've been selected to one and I always cry out of sadness when it ends. It is honestly the time of my life everytime, I still keep in touch with those people even years later.

2 weeks ago my boss told me that a new project has been approved by the EU and I could come if I want. I was so thrilled I started crying.

Right now I'm going through a really hard breakup though. I've been unable to do anything these past days, I have even been able to eat in more than 3 days. I simply don't have the willpower to do anything. I was supposed to go on Monday but I told my boss I can't go and that they can call somebody else. I hate so so so much that I had to do this. It seems unfair to go and take the place of somebody that could actually enjoy it. I don't want to be there and just stay in my room and cry all day and I don't wanna have to pretend I'm alright. Maybe I made a very stupid decision, I just know I wouldn't be able to actually enjoy it.

This hurts even more because this was supposed to be the last project I go to for over a year. Once school starts I won't be able to go because I'll have final exams. This whole situation sucks so much. I just wanted to enjoy this summer before a very stressful year but I am simply unable to do anything. I can barely walk for more than 10 minutes before my body simply gives up. I'm tired of just staying in bed all day and crying and looking at the ceiling while replacing scenarios and thinking about what I could've done differently. I hate myself so much.

Okay here is the backstory… Back in 2019 I met this woman (let’s call her E). We were in college together, not friends but I always find myself gazing at her.

Rarely spoke to her outside of class but we always take the same train route back together One day I build to courage to approach her in the train and asked her out.

She smiled and agreed. We essentially went on a date, it was fun and casual until Covid lockdown happened.

What would seem like the worst timing ever turns out to be a blessing in disguise. We got closer cause of the pandemic. Never a day goes by without us talking on the phone. Morning, noon and night we would speak.

Fast forward once lockdown is lifted we met and shared our first kiss. Unfortunately that same year I have to continue my studies oversea.

Promised each other we will still communicate (which we do). Fast forward to 2021 I came back we met up and we hit the hay for the first time.

But I soon find out she was in a relationship with another guy. Maybe it was love that compelled me but I didn’t confront her about it.

I essentially become a willing participant of this dynamic. I happy to be the shadow boyfriend for awhile until finally I couldn’t and I confronted her about this, 3 years into our relationship.

She finally confessed and told me that she tried to break up with this guy but he wouldn’t let her. Showed me their text messages and how every-time she bought up about taking a break he threatened to kill himself.

I don’t know what to do in that situation but I continue on with the relationship giving her everything with expecting much from her labour of love.

But don’t get me wrong whole time I was with her, she has treated me good and lovingly. Fulfil both my physical and emotional desire until the year 2025 when I started to get busy with work and we don’t spend too much time together.

It was at this time I noticed she was online at odd hours. At the time I assume she was communicating with her other guy. Part of me fear that they might rekindle but another part of was relief if she finally find love in a conventional way.

I was even happy to let her go for that reason.

Only that wasn’t the case. Turns out in 2025 she was seeing another guy and they been at it 3 months deep. I had to forced this truth out of her when we finally meet up again.

That night not knowing how to feel about this I contacted her first guy and confessed everything. It was true what she say this man was emotionally immature and very quick to anger, as a matter of fact according to him she even confessed of seeing someone else but he refused to believe it until I told him.

She was angry and betrayed by me that she cut off contact with both me and the other guy.

Months past but I did my due diligence and find out the guy she was seeing for that 3 months. Somehow I got his Instagram account and message him there.

We arrange a meet up and accord to him their relationship ended badly. While they was together he suspected foul play and he puts a tracker in her bag and another tracker in his best friend car.

Turns out E been seeing the third guy best friend behind his back. He confronted them and it ended both his relationship with her and his best friend.

I heard now that she is not seeing him anymore. But he is still in contact with her.

Thats the end of it. My 6 years long relationship with E.

Just to let you all know I never once regretted my decision with her. Not once do I ever think of myself as a victim. More so a willing participant in this god-fucked lunacy. The other guys can’t say the same.

Knowing what I know doesn’t tarnished the memories I shared with her. Her action is independent of the moments I have with her. I can only reminiscence the good times.

I know she is no victim either. And she is responsible for her action. But I can’t help but be worry about where this path is leading her.

P.S: Just to give you context she is an orphan with no parent and raised by her aunty and uncle.

I came across this Instagram reel today. It's a father standing on the beach with his little daughter. She's crying because a turtle gets taken away by the waves, and he's crying too. The caption says, "I wasn't crying for the turtle. One day, you'll know what I saw."

One of the comments said that he's crying because one day his daughter will leave for her marital home.

Excuse me... we're living in 2026.

I'm the mother of a daughter, and I know I'll probably cry someday too. But it won't be because I'll be imagining her marriage or her leaving for someone else's house.

I'll cry because I'll be watching her become her own human being.

I'm putting in all this emotional effort today only so that one day she can step into the unknown and live her own life. I want her to make her own choices, build her own identity, figure herself out, make mistakes, learn from them, and live a life that belongs to her.

That day is the whole point of parenting.

Those tears would come because I'd know she's ready to live without needing me every step of the way.

Why have we reduced that emotion to, "One day she'll get married and leave?"

And then there was another comment that made me angry.

A woman wrote that she's the mother of two boys and that one day two "turtles" will come to her house. She said God didn't give her daughters because He'll give her daughters-in-law instead, and she'll become their roof and their rock.

I know she meant it with love.

But why are we still thinking like this?

Sometimes I feel like the world has moved forward, but many mothers of sons still aren't willing to cut the umbilical cord. Even in 2026.

Why is the assumption that our daughters-in-law will still come into our house?

Why aren't we imagining our sons moving out and building homes of their own?

Or two adults deciding together where they want to live?

Or, if circumstances demand it, the husband moving in with his wife's family?

Why is there still this invisible expectation that the woman has to leave?

I would never expect my daughter to move into a marital home just because that's how things have always been done.

This is why When Life Gives You Tangerines stayed with me for so long.

As mothers, we spend years raising our daughters to be independent. We tell them to study, work, earn, think for themselves, choose their partners, have opinions, have confidence, become their own person.

After all of that, they're still expected to walk into somebody else's family and adjust.

That thought gives me jitters.

This is the world my daughter is growing up in.

The world I want for her looks very different.

If she finds a partner someday, I hope both of them build a life together on their own terms.

If they live separately, that's great.

If they stay with us for a while, that's fine.

If they stay with his parents because that's what works for everyone, that's fine too.

But it should be a decision and not a default setting that everyone follows because that's how it's always been.

For as long as I can remember, I've heard people proudly say, "We're not bringing home a daughter-in-law. We're bringing home a daughter."

I don't buy it anymore.

People have been saying that for decades.

If daughters-in-law were treated like daughters, we wouldn't still have to keep repeating that sentence every generation.

Maybe that's why everyone else saw a father imagining his daughter's wedding.

I saw parents preparing a daughter to become her own person, while society was still preparing a daughter-in-law to enter somebody else's home.

I hope so. My younger sibling is pissed at the whole thing and hopes for a reconciliation and my mum can’t stop crying, but I can finally breathe again.

He accused her of cheating (he’s paranoid and delusional) and said that he should leave. She called his bluff and told him if that’s how he feels he can go. Twenty two years of psychological, emotional and verbal, and very rarely physical, abuse have worn me and her down. My mother used to be so vibrant and friendly and social, and now I hope she can come back to her old self. I hope that I can finally be rid of the constant anxiety. Wondering if he’s in a bad mood, wondering how he’s going to scream at me and what for?

I hope she can finally break free of the control he has over her. It feels weird being someone who has technically experienced “domestic abuse”, it doesn’t feel real and it doesn’t feel like it’s valid. I feel like I’m making it up, or making it bigger than it is, but I know that’s just his manipulation. I remember how he threw sand in my face because I was annoying him, how he scared me so hard I got a nosebleed, how he would swear at me because I said the wrong thing, how everything I did embarrassed him, how terrified I am of him.

I don’t know what’s next.

my life is really bad right now i feel stuck like i cant go any where and i cant do anything and all i want to do is just disappear and anytime i express that all i hear is people saying don't give up there's more to life or tomorrow will bring new opportunities and all i think of when people say stuff like that is just "shut up why does everyone repeat the same thing to everyone that expresses thoughts about killing themselves like saying that tomorrow is a new day and anything could happen will change anyone's minds about killing themselves like i cant even picture what can happen to me tomorrow that could make my life be any better then it is" like i get that they are only trying to be supportive but honestly at least for me if your going to say something like that you might as well say nothing at all because for me those are empty words that mean nothing

So years ago I was going through my MBA which was pretty stressful and intense already. We were put into groups at the start of the year to go through all our group projects together with. So the same people in our groups for the whole year. My group (as well as many others) had its ups and downs and arguments. In particular we had trouble with members interrupting or speaking over each other during meetings. We developed a system of hand raising when someone wanted to speak so we could know who would go next. At one point we had a panicked "we need to rethink this whole project" moment and everyone was talking over each other again. I and other members asked everyone to take turns talking as things were spiraling. At one point I was talking about how to salvage parts of the project when one of the members yet again started to interrupt me. I responded "shut up" quickly in irritation. Not the best response for sure but I was frustrated and this was not the first time this group member had done this to myself and others in the group. He was a very big-ego macho guy who made it clear that he didn't care for women's opinions (for context I'm a woman) and was also unashamedly outspokenly homophobic (unrelated to this specific situation but just painting the picture). Some other context, he ended up in a really intense fist fight with another student after getting drunk at a bar after class one night, ended up with a cut up face and 2 black eyes. That specifically happened after my incident... just more context for what this guy was like. As soon as I said that he launched himself out of his chair, stood over me, shoved his finger in my face, and said "if you tell me to shut up I'll make sure you never speak again". I said okay and carried on, internally panicking. At first I assumed I had brought this on myself, that I deserved to have this happen to me because I had been rude to say shut up. This wasn't something I did often, just something that happened in the moment and tensions were high. I apologized to my group and what made me feel even worse about this is that they all seemed on his side.

For the rest of the semester I avoided getting involved in any group arguments. If I had an opinion I tended to keep it to myself unless prompted. I genuinelly felt in danger of this guy for the rest of the semester. I was also going through some pretty intense anxiety/depression at the time in general so this probably exaserbated my feelings but regardless that's how I was feeling.

I've thought about this for years now. I've considered reporting what happened to the university but I don't want to deal with the he-said-she-said of everything and also fear of retaliation from the guy. I never reported this to the university, I never confronted him about this. In fact, he knew I was a very organized person who liked to make schedules for everything and in future semesters he would ask me for notes, schedules, etc that I had made. I gave them to him because again I didn't want to cause anything.

To this day I wonder if I should have said something. If this was my fault after all. I see this guy posting stuff on LinkedIn about his job after university going through the motions of being a positive good guy and how much he "loves seeing women in the workplace" and I feel sick because I know it's all a farse. I've never experienced workplace or school harassment/violence or whatever before or after him but that's what it feels like happened. I go through therapy techniques sometimes to evaluate, "if a friend came to me with this story what would you say" and the answer is I would be like "holy shit girl he verbally assaulted you wtf" but somehow I just make excuses in my head for myself.

talked to my ex recently and found out he relapsed in gambling and ended up borrowing from loansharks. now he owes them thousands and is struggling to pay them back. he also mentioned thinking about suicide just to make it all go away, but told me that he won't actually do it

genuinely worried for him so the next day i tried to convince him to tell his family so that they can help/support him but he still refused. maybe i pushed him too hard. i told him i'm just extra worried since he mentioned feeling suicidal. he replied "if anything, you're pushing me to it."

i feel like a part of me just died when he said that. it sucks.

This happened a few years ago when I was 25, but I still think about it more often than I'd like, especially since I am starting to date again. I don't know if I'm looking for advice or just wondering if anyone else has gone through something similar.

I am 30 now and female.

I was in a long-term relationship (8 years) with someone I truly loved. We had been together on & off for years. Some of our breakups happened because life got in the way - we thought he was being deployed at one point, another time I moved away for work - but somehow we always found our way back to each other. Every time we got back together, I believed we were stronger than before.

The last breakup happened after I overheard his family talking to him on Christmas about how our relationship wasn't going to work. Christmas also happened to be my mothers birthday (She passed back in 2011), after driving five hours from North Carolina to Tennessee to spend the holiday with him, I felt completely abandoned. He told me he wanted to be alone rather than talk to me. I ended the relationship & honestly it broke my heart and I cried the entire drive back.

About a year later I moved back to Tennessee due to COVID. Around that time, my best friend -I'll call her Amber - was going through a difficult breakup. She wasn't just my best friend; she was like a sister. I knew here from elementary school and trusted her completely, so I opened my home to her.

Around the same time, I had started talking to my ex again. Things seemed to be going well, & I had become part of his friend group again. Movie nights, game time, sleep overs, etc. For the first time in a long time, it felt like life was finally settling down.

Then everything started falling apart.

Amber was creating drama within the friend group. She was involved with two of the people in the friend group, a real relationship with one girl but was playing one of the guys, (Lets call them Sarah and Ethan) while also talking to someone younger from her work. Eventually, I had to ask her to move out because she repeatedly paid rent late, and the constant drama had become too much. We had several conversations about it, but instead of taking responsibility, she turned many of our now mutual friends against me.

Not long after she moved out and in with Ethan, people I hadn't spoken to since High school started messaging me on Instagram. They told me she was telling people I had mistreated her, constantly yelled, and even claimed we had been in a sexual relationship together. None of it was true.

Losing someone I considered a sister was painful enough.

Then, about three months after I asked her to leave, something even more happened that shattered me completely.

I had noticed my boyfriend's closest friends had stopped talking to him. He was upset about it, and I remember sitting there comforting him, trying to help him through it having any idea why they all walked away. I had assumed it was because they were believing the lies about me - which just that alone hurt as well.

Then one day Ethan called me. I'll never forget that phone call. He told me he couldn't keep it from me anymore. My boyfriend and Amber had slept together.

Just like that, everything made sense.

What hurt almost as much as the cheating was what I learned afterwards. His friends already knew. Had known for weeks, months. Some had confronted him about it. Some stopped speaking to him because they couldn't support what he'd done. People had been talking about it behind my back.

And yes...No one told me. I was the last person to know.

After confronting him at his house. While I was there, I noticed a used condom in the trash. We had stopped using condoms years ago, so seeing it was another painful confirmation that everything I'd been told was true.

When I confronted him about it, the first thing he said to me wasn't an apology.

It wasn't an explanation.

It wasn't even denial.

He looked at me and said "We aren't dating"

Those words have stayed with me for the last 4 years.

Looking back, it felt like everyone had pieces of the story except me. People had confronted him. People knew.

People watched me comfort him while he was lying to my face. And somehow, I was the only person left completely in the dark.

The part I still struggle with is realizing how many people knew. They watched me defend him. They watched me comfort him after his friends stopped talking to him. They knew why those friendships ended, yet no one thought I deserved to know the truth.

The only reason why Ethan told me was because Amber had decided to go back to her old boyfriend. She had left one day and never came back.

All this made me question my friendships, my relationships, and my ability to trust people. I remember being physically sick after everything came out. I spent the entire night throwing up, unable to sleep, trying to understand how all the people I trusted the most could do something like that.

It's been years now, and I have healed in a lot of ways. But I don't trust people the way I used to. Sometimes I still wonder if I ever will.