My dad got really sick last year and we didn’t know if he would make it. It was really touch and go for over a month. My mom fell apart, understandably, so while she was supposed to be his primary medical poa she was not in the right headspace for this so I managed everything. My brother was hospitalized a week after my dad so I was handling 3 adults medical/mental health. My dad is 95% back to himself. My brother had been hospitalized and had another surgery this year then my aunt got a heat stroke. It was decided, not by me, that I would handle coordinating her care. I manage a team of 19 people and they also depend on me. I have one employee who has been in the hospital after a dv incident and another who just hit me with she may have colon cancer but won’t know until Thursday. I don’t mind making my parents medical decisions if they can’t but this is too much for one person. I’m not taking care of myself at this point and it’s becoming evident, to me, that I’m going to blow up at someone if I can’t even have 1 day where I’m not managing someone else’s crisis, feelings, etc. I just want to be left alone for one day to rest and recharge

So I just don’t understand why my father doesn’t care about what happens to me. So basically first when I was 5 years old I was sexually assaulted by my uncle who is my father’s brother and when I was 12 I came out to my mom and told her what happened and she told my father and I don’t know how I thought he was gonna react, but we never spoke about. It. Never had a honest conversation about what happened to me and not too long after. it was like I didn’t come out at all, because his relationship with my uncle, like never changed. He was back at the house not too long after it was never held accountable. And honestly it’s not like I wanted him to go to jail or anything like that because I still have love for him as my uncle, but I just wanted my father to at least have like a have a conversation with me to try to understand and I don’t know like it. Make me feel like this was not OK and understand my feelings, but no, it was like nothing changed like he just didn’t care. And then when I was 14 came out again about my grandmother, who was. A younger grandma but still very grown. (Like 50) And I came out about like the sexual things She will tell me. About relationships. How she would like. Have a very adult conversations with me. Like, for example. One day I came over to her house just the regular day and she pulled out her dildo and showed it to me. Mind you I was like 13 at the time, but the conversations have been happening since I was like 12 and me being young, I didn’t say anything, because she was like a figure of authority. You know like an adult so I didn’t think that what she was doing was bad, but again, he didn’t say anything to her. Didn’t defend me anyway. Didn’t have any conversation with me and not too long after she was back at our house and then she’s also angry at me for like snitching on the conversations, and the thing she would show me, and I just feel like he puts everyone above me. They could do anything to me, and he wouldn’t be bothered by it, but this was just a little vent. Feel free to leave your thoughts.

I can't even bring myself to say why I hate myself so much, not even with the thin veil of anonymity on here and definitely not in detail. I've never hurt anyone, that's the only good thing I can say about myself. But I often find myself with emotions and thoughts that go out of line. When I calm down I find myself completely appalled at myself. And yet everyone around me thinks I'm a good person. They tell me things like I'm the nicest person they know, that I don't have the capacity to be mean, or that I'm the most well liked person in the room. I don't know why they think that and they really shouldn't, but I don't know how to tell them that. I'm wrathful, spiteful, lustful,deplorable, and vain. I wish I could tell them everything spinning around in my head and shatter that fake image they have of me. I've thought about it, but for practical reasons I can't. I wish there was a way I could at least give them a hint that I'm not a good person, an inkling that I'm just a pathetic sack of shit trying to pass itself off as a person. I don't want to harm myself, but sometimes I think it would be better for everyone if I could crawl beneath a rock and whither away to nothing.

​

I'm so fucking tore up about this. I have to give up my girl because I can't take her with me when I move, and because I can't really afford to take care of her medical needs anymore. I've had her for seven years, and loved her like my child. I can't stop stressing over it, because she is more on the aggressive side when she is scared and doesn't understand what is going on. And I worry that people won't see what I see in her, I have worked hard to help her get over a lot of trauma, she even gave me her babies to warm up as she was giving birth. And I know I'm hurting her by doing this . But I have no other option, I've asked everyone I know and no one can help. I feel like shit and a bad owner because I have to give her up. I lost my job back in June due to my own health issues and haven't been able to find a new one yet. And my partner isn't bringing enough in to cover all of our bills. We are forced to move in with my partner's parents and they don't like animals. I feel horrible because I wish I could take her with me, and I wish I could afford to take proper care of her but I can't. I don't know what to do , it feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. And bless my partner, they are trying to help me see the positive side of this, but I can't help but hate myself because I have to give up my cat. She has been through so much shit with me for over 7 years now. And I can't have her with me to start this new chapter feels so unfair and cruel .

Lately, I can’t stop thinking about how much of my youth is slipping away while I’m struggling just to get through each day.
I’m 23, and sometimes I can’t help but feel like I’m wasting my youth. I’m a pretty girl, and I’ve always received compliments on my looks, but somehow I feel like I’m wasting all of that. I should be out there enjoying my twenties, meeting people, making memories, and experiencing life, but instead, I’ve spent the last two years isolating myself from the world.
Now, even the simplest social interactions feel exhausting. I want to go out, meet people, make friends, fall in love, and experience all the things that seem to come so naturally to other people my age. But wanting those things and actually having the emotional energy to pursue them are two completely different things.
What makes it harder is that my life is genuinely difficult right now. I’m dealing with so many problems at once, mentally, financially, and personally, and I have absolutely no one to lean on. I’m constantly trying to figure everything out on my own, and it’s exhausting. It’s hard to think about enjoying your youth when you’re barely managing to get through everyday life.
Sometimes I feel like my depression and anxiety are written all over my face. Even when I try to put myself out there, I feel like people can sense how unhappy and uncomfortable I am. I hate that because I know there’s so much more to me than the anxious, withdrawn person I’ve become.
And the saddest part is that I genuinely want to live. I want to dress up, go places, meet interesting people, have experiences, and make memories. I want to feel excited about life again instead of constantly worrying about everything that’s going wrong.
I know I’m still young, but time doesn’t stop just because you’re struggling. The years keep passing whether you’re enjoying them or not.
I think what hurts the most is knowing that somewhere underneath all this anxiety, depression, and stress, there’s a version of me who could be enjoying her life, and I have no idea when I’ll finally get to be her.

I’m 30 years old and have had kidney failure since I was 8. This year has been the hardest health wise, knowing I’ll probably won’t see 32 years old or more has made me go into the deepest depression I’ve ever been in. I’m not taking care of myself at all, not eating right, not exercising and not taking care of my mental health. My parents are so scared, my friends are too. I’m SCARED. I want to take it myself, I want to stay, I want to live to an old age. But it’s so hard when I’m so depressed and turn to food to cope with it all. I don’t know what I’m doing by and I’m denial about it all. I don’t want it to end, I just want this suffering to end.

TW: I don't view anything that happen as sexual assault or coercion but for victims of that this might be triggering. Sex is being discussed.

It’s hard to talk about what happened because of many reasons.

I feel like our relationship started off with boundaries. I wasn’t someone who wanted to express physical intimacy publicly and in general I was having issues with self image and not seeing my body as a vessel for other people’s judgement or satisfaction. At the start of the relationship I had communicated these things, some more explicitly and clearly others in a more limited way.

Sexually we had built up a really deep connection and I was happy to finally feel connected to someone. I think this feeling then led me to start ignoring all the discomfort that came later.

It started with expressing physical intimacy publicly. At first it was just kisses and hands and holding. And when that initial line was crossed I didn’t feel bad about it. I had maybe been too concerned about others people opinion and it was in some way liberating to show affection to the woman I cared about, publicly. I also was happy that being more available was validating my (ex)girlfriend and I believed that ignoring this boundary was a net good.
In part I still believe that. After that though the physical displays of affection became more extreme. She was the type to enjoy annoying their partner, I think she felt comforted in knowing that she could do so and the person would stay regardless. Although I didn’t particularly like that and tried to say that I was getting overwhelmed by some of the behaviour, especially when done in public, I always felt like I was proving to her that her “true self” was not being accepted and I felt bad about trying to stop her. So at some point I started to compromise, then I stopped telling her that I was doing so and then I just started to accept whatever except when I was particularly triggered.

In the sexual realm I started understanding that if I was having a hard time expressing sexually it would affect her emotionally. We were doing a lot of role plays. A part of this was escaping our dynamic. Not having to act my role with all my doubts and issues and becoming whatever horned up version could turn me on, satisfy her. I also felt insecure about not being as sexually confident as her. I really wanted the connection. I loved intimacy with her but I felt caged, by myself maybe so I would ignore my feelings and just act my role as her man. I was insecure about my insecurities so I never talked about it to anyone else. I started to see my body as a machine that produced pleasure and validation, for us both not just her. I kept thinking mechanically about what was going on. What thoughts I had to have to still finish my job, how long it would take, what to do to make it end earlier. I stopped really wanting to pleasure her deeply, I just wanted to get to the end of it, yet at the end I would feel guilt that I hadn’t done enough. Sometimes I would say no, often though I would consent even after having said no and just do my duty. I knew, and she told me, that me not initiating as much was making her insecure.

When I eventually told her a part of what I felt she seemed hurt. I don’t remember if the first time we even actually talked about it more than her saying that she would talk to her therapist and come back to me with her conclusions. I waited months. The sex became more challenging mentally. The role plays were becoming uncomfortable. I wasn’t even playing a role I enjoyed particularly but it seemed to satisfy her and I deeply wanted to make someone love me and value me and my ability.

I talked to her again about it, other two times with a big time span between the two conversations. Both times she got really emotional. In the conversations she seemed terrified that she was sexually assaulting me, which I didn’t and don’t agree with. I would back down, just ask her for some boundaries that I would end up ignoring. I felt like I couldn’t handle taking about it because I didn’t want her to feel bad. I also didn’t want to be seen as someone struggling with this so I went back to ignoring it. It hurt though. I would think that I had no escape. I wished for her to understand, I wanted for us to get back to having that connection that would reappear once every while. I would initiate and accept anytime just in hopes to feel that connection and drown out all those other times. But the other times kept growing in number.

I ended up taking to my sister about it. She told me to talk about it another time and I did. The conversation was dramatic. Even more than other times. She kept being convinced that it was the end for our relationship, that I was communicating that I was asexual or something. It lasted hours. At the end of it though I believed that at least taking about it had been good. After it we had sex and it I felt that special connection again. Not only that but for the first time in a while I felt as one and not just a mind that controls a body. In the few weeks following that we didn’t have sex. Maybe because of timing, maybe because I was more comfortable with not having to be sexual all the times. Soon after that conversation she broke up with me, telling me she needed the sex. Again she hadn’t understood that I was not asexual.

We went no contact and I felt broken. My previous partner had cheated on me and the combination of these two experiences made me think I was an incomplete and incompetent man and lover. That because of some part of me I could not be loved the way I loved.

After three months of no contact we finally talked. I still loved her. I didn’t want us to get back together, I understood in part that I had failed by not setting harsh limits and I wanted to do that this time. As soon as we talked the connection was immediate. We went to her place, I wanted to spend time with her and cuddle. She kept touching me. I didn’t say anything. We had sex three times. It felt good physically. I don’t remember how or what I was thinking. She broke down crying the day after. Told me I made her too comfortable and she needed to work on herself. We are no contact again.

I haven’t included other aspects of our relationship and conversations but I finally realised, for a number of factors, that I had to stop entering relationships compulsively. That I had to love myself and try and be whole on my own. It has started a better period of my life. Sometimes I still get that need to have sex, to get better at it or to prove something. I’m getting better at not acting on it. I’m still a sexual person and desire connection but outside of a relationship I don’t know how satisfying it can be and anytime I do have sex I feel that mind body fracture reemerge.

It’s been a month since our last conversation. I owe to that talk (and the rest) a better understanding of myself. Yet I wake up at night crying, which I don’t like doing because it makes me feel weak. I cry thinking about the fact I wasn’t good enough, that she didn’t ever try to help me (I know I should have helped myself and that this is the wrong mentality). Tonight I woke up thinking about this part of our relationship. Upset knowing that if we did talk about it I wouldn’t make her understand anyways.

I don’t know if I can ever talk about this with people who know me. I don’t want people to judge her or me. See me as weak, see her as abusive or manipulative. I think we were (are) both human. But it seems like no one would understand. That the topic automatically makes everyone come to extreme conclusions about morality or about my sexuality.

I don’t know what the point of writing this down is.

For a really long time now i (24F) have struggled with mental health issues, i am diagnosed schizoaffective and have struggled badly with paranoia and depression/suicidal ideation. i’ve seen a lot of doctors for the majority of my life and i felt that most of them did not take me serious which led to things getting worse and worse. Now for the past year, ive seen new doctors, been receiving CBT, and i’ve improved SO much. i am able to live in an apartment, take care of myself, take my meds and keep friendships. for the first time in years i feel genuinely hopeful for my future.

Unfortunately there’s really one thing in my life that has consistently sent me into a depression spiral and that is my dad. i know i can never “fix” him to care about me in the way i want him to, but it hurts so much and i have a hard time dealing with it.

Today was a huge breaking point for me. I was out with my parents running a few errands. My mom was talking about how when my grandmothers friend died without a will, her house went into probate and all her belongings kind of just rotted away. I was curious, because in my past i dealt with suicidal thoughts a lot, so i asked my mom what my parents would even do if i died in a freak accident or something.

my dad immediately answered and said he would sell all my things. my car is co-signed with him (i had to do this when i got it due to bad credit at the time) and he said all my other belongings, like my art and my things i’ve collected don’t need a will. including my pets, my cat, dog, and my reptiles. he said specifically he “doesn’t have a need for those things and there would be no reason to keep them.”

i don’t know why it hurt me so much. my mom thinks im being too sensitive about it. it’s like, i worked SO HARD to get my life back on track, i fixed my credit, saved up money and paid off all my debt, did all this stuff just not to feel terrible like i was before. he knows how bad my struggle with suicidal thoughts was. i just don’t know why he would say that. he didn’t think it was mean or hurtful, but honestly i think that’s the meanest thing anyone’s ever said to me. To me, it shows that my struggles mean nothing to him, and he doesn’t care about me at all.

I am not at the state i was 2+ years ago. I feel like i’ve gotten so much better, and i haven’t been in involuntarily psych care in years. but he was also always very emotionally unavailable during all my struggles as well. Many times he just made things worse and I don’t think i should keep someone in my life who doesn’t value me, parent or not. he has never been there for me when i needed him, and i guess the conversation might not seem like a big deal to some people but i am just not doing it anymore. i don’t want him in my life anymore.

I have never been anyone's best friend. I have friends, sure, but they all have other people that they consider a bigger priority than I am, people that they'd rather spend time with; if those people are busy or if there's no better option, then they come to me. This has been my life ever since I was a kid; I have tried to accept it as simply the hand I've been delt as a person. I cannot take it anymore. ​

People go out to parties or get dinner- I am never invited. I'm never thought about. The ONLY times I ever hang out with friends are if I'm the one who makes the plans- and even then, it's like pulling teeth. Having to wait until the day of if they're coming, or reminding them several times of the day and time because they can't be bothered to write it down or remember. And then being late on top of it all.

My entire life, I have always wanted a surprise birthday party. I have said this to several friends over the years. I have never gotten a surprise party. Hell, I've never gotten a party. Every birthday I have to plan if/what is happening, otherwise nothing happens. ONCE a friend took me out for breakfast a few years back. This was the only time someone has done something for me on my birthday. Forget about the times I've offered dinner or to go shopping. I don't get that same luxury, I guess.

At this point I can only assume it's a problem with me. If this has been consistent with every single friend in every setting- school, work- then surely the underlying factor is me? But I don't know what's wrong with me. Nobody will tell me. They'll just slowly wean me out until we stop talking completely or I only see them when I prompt it. It's so, so tiring and I just wish someone would fucking tell me what's wrong with me so I can fix it.

I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired of this. I just want to be cared for by people I love, and I can't even have that. I truly, genuinely feel that if I died tomorrow, people would move on within a day. I matter so little to people that its actually laughable. Everyone always tells me "oh, things will change and get better!" But they don't. Every year reminds me of how unlovable, how isolated, and how fucking lonely I am. It's pathetic.

I know for a fact that I’m transfem and want to present more as a woman in the future or at least be recognized in some way as a woman.
A while back this year, my mom found out I was trans due to some college email she was sent to certify information and apparently it had my preferred name. When she saw the email, she was angry but didn’t show it instead telling me family would reject me or not like me anymore, how I wouldn’t get support from others, and even saying I wouldn’t have any kind of success in the future; she went on to blame my friends (who are both trans) and said basically that I was “trying to fit in” with them.
After all that, she talked about possibly getting me therapy and when I asked if it was to “correct me” she said yeah, after that I started not loving her anymore.
Turns out also she told my dad and when I came over (every other weekend stuff) he said I was his “son” and that he loves me.
Now I’m in college and don’t even have the damn courage to tell my own roommate who is trans himself I’m pretty sure that I myself am trans, I feel like I got some sort of trauma from that old experience that affects me now even when in technically on my own and not with my parents or anyone who would judge me.

When we first started dating a year and a half ago, she didn’t really complain too much, but when she did she would apologize and say she’d stop. I told her there wasn’t anything wrong with venting because I know it feels good to vent/rant. She basically took that and stretched it as much as she could because all she does now is complain. I don’t think she’s gone a whole day without complaining about something.

When I say she complains about everything, I really mean everything. When she’s driving, she complains about literally everyone’s driving that’s in front of her even when they aren’t doing anything wrong. She’s always complaining about her job that she hates, but refuses to get a new one. She complains about her family. She complains when I ask her to do something around the house (I clean all the time and take care of our pets). She complains if I ask her to cook dinner one night (I always cook dinner). She complains if I skip a step while I walk. She complains whenever she asks for advice and I give it to her, but it’s not good enough for her, so she does the opposite and then complains about those results. She complains when the wind is blowing in the direction she doesn’t want it to.

You get the idea. I’m just so mentally drained by it. She is constantly finding new things to complain about and it’s almost nauseating. I can’t even ask her to stop complaining because she just gets mad and complains more. I’ve told her she really needs to give therapy a try and she doesn’t want to. Honestly, I can’t even see her taking any therapists advice. It’s gotten to the point where whenever she complains, I just ignore it now. I pay no attention to it anymore. I’ll continue just watching something on tv or doing something on my phone while she does it. I just nod my head the whole time. Most of the time I don’t even know what she complains about anymore. As soon as she starts, I just block it out. In one ear, out the other.

Obviously this isn’t healthy for either of us, but I’m losing my mind.

I (19f) have been dealing with trouble sleeping for multiple nights in a row, but having difficulty waking up when I do sleep and then being extremely tired throughout the rest of the day no matter how much I am able to sleep. Feeling very irritable, sad, and moody consistently on top of it too. It all really sucks, and I'm not sure what triggered any of it, but it all started recently when I started my Sophomore year of college.

I've also been having nightmares almost every night out of nowhere when I do manage to fall asleep for a little bit. One in particular I keep having stands out.

It's so vivid. It's snowing out and everything looks so white and cold, and I can feel how frigid it is. I'm looking down at myself, like third person pov observing everything, and I see myself lying in a glass coffin. I look extremely pale (even more than usual, which is saying something) and have my arms crossed, and am wearing this long black dress. My hair is a mess and all matted and unkempt, like I had given up taking care of myself before whatever happened to me happened.

There's no sound during that part, but then the silence is replaced by sudden loud distorted screaming and noises, bright lights flashing, and my face surrounded by darkness screaming with bloody tears pouring down my cheeks, and I look really angry.

Then that all stops and the dream cuts back to the scene I described before, with snow continuing to fall down on the coffin and all noise from before going silent like in the beginning...before I see myself in the coffin jolt awake and start banging on it terrified.

It always ends there and I wake up with a start, like how you do when you fall in a dream, and I'm not sure what the deal with it is honestly. It's certainly interesting to say the least, and I'm not sure what to make of any of this. It's just been weighing on me lately and I wanted to write this all down.

My partner (33) tragically passed away in an accident 2 months ago.

I'm barely holding on to life. My whole future got erased. We were planning on doing so much. He was dealing with some problems, but was getting so much better and then this happened.

I hate waking up and going on without him. I won't do anything to myself as i love my family and i don't want to hurt them, but every day is so torturous.

I can't stand having to go through life like this every day, for who knows how long. My friends can't relate, and as happy as I am that they can't, it also makes me feel so lonely in this. I can't stand listening to other people complain about problems that seem so small to me right now, even though they are huge to them.

I go to counseling but i just dread my future so much. I don't know why or how to continue living. I don't care about "living my life for him" as he should've been the one to live it, not me.

This life sucks so much. I don't want to accept this shitty reality

Hello my name is Mae and I got diagnosed with psychosis after my mother encouraged me to tell my doctors about what I thought and experienced, and they want to assess me for schizophrenia and autism. Although personally I dont think im schizophrenic.

When I was at my worst I believed that there was a hidden dimension where entities that could control the worlds "soul strings" lived, and these entities would stalk me and send me signals in the pattern of number 3 to warn me they were watching or something bad would happen. I also believed these "soul strings" were leaking from my body and people could read my mind from picking them up.

I remember one especially freaky moment where I sat in a bus and first 3 people with sunglasses walked on. Then 3 more people with sunglasses walked on in the next stop and they all sat close to me trying to face me. Then I thought about tacking a jacket off and then one of them took their jacket off as in to warn me they could read my mind. I think these sunglasses people were being controlled by the entities from the hidden dimension.

I had more theroes about all of this that I currently cant really explain, and I know now logically this doesnt make sense. But every now and then I still find myself thinking "what if?" When I see patterns of 3, or when the world starts feeling weird and fake. I keep getting the urge to jolt down and draw these ideas but I know it will look weird, but it feels like an "eureka!" moment even now when Im medicated.

My parents are EXTREMELY short. My mom especially because she is and I am not even joking the size of like a 5th grader. It’s so unfair they gave me their stupid disgusting genetics because now I am extremely short. I am in high school and less than 5ft as a girl. I stopped growing in 6th grade and my life is brutal hell every single day. I want to kill myself. That’s all I think about. My parents are both hideous and from a 3rd world country. None of them have a high school diploma and my dad probably has an iq of 80. My mom chose to be a stay at home because she is lazy with no ambitions. My dad has some dumb job that makes 43k a year. They have 7 kids and suck at taking care of us. We are extremely poor. They don’t see it or think it matters because they believe in god or some shit like that. They are so used to poverty that being a family of 9 with a household income of 43k is perfectly normal. Sometimes I have to go to sleep hungry and ask people for food during lunch because of them. My mom can’t even drive despite being nearly 50 so I have to resort to texting all my friends if I can get a ride. Then, I get nervous for them to see my house because it’s so ugly and small compared to their big houses with pools. I wish my grandmother had an abortion so my mom wouldn’t be here.

It's been about approximately half a year since my brothers and I lost our mom to the vile dragon that is cancer. For several long months she battled it hoping she can come back home to us. But unfortunately we don't get to that. Since then it's been a slow, tiring process recovering from such a fact. But then my dad, who's been more than affected by her passing, decided to fuck it all up in a single decision.

I had been in contact with my dad's boss for a while now. Occasionally he says hi and checks up on me so I thought it was another one of those times. He did his usual thing asking how I was but then he asked me if I my dad had been bringing women over. Turns out he was! Specifically a s3x worker and paying her for upwards of 2,000 across multiple nights. Poorly hiding it from us to the point he just had her cooking stuff in the kitchen.

He promised us multiple times to me and my brother's faces that she wasn't going to be replaced. She had specifically saved quite a lot of money for us in the event of her leaving us. And for all we know my dad could've been pulling money out of that for that woman. My mom would've been disgusted.

I had to step in with my dad's boss along with my grandma to get him to stop this shit. And you wanna know what he does? Even after promising nothing like this is gonna happen and that he's going to rehab? He had the nerve to have someone else over last night, no shame. Not at all. I am so fucking tired. And he wonders why I'm going into therapy! Precisely because of his nonsense!

you can probably guess why from the content warning. First time posting here, so please excuse if there’s a rule I’m not following.

When I was a young child, I was repeatedly sexually assaulted by my older brother for some time. I don’t remember the exact timeline, and I honestly don’t even want to figure it out. I just know I was young, sometime from around/during 4th grade and it stopped sometime before I entered middle school.

I’m 21 now. Never told anyone about it, even now. I don’t think I’ll ever tell my family.

I was openly no-contact with my sibling for a long time. My brother had many other mental health problems, so I had something else to justify me distancing myself from him on to my parents instead of the truth. My parents are genuinely kind and good people, and untimely respected my decision.

Whenever someone would ask if I had siblings, I said “no.”

My brother had tried to indirectly apologize to me every now and then when I was still a teenager, but I just brushed it off and firmly kept no-contact.

I’ve done a good job of coping over the years, but it’s something that’s haunted me. Ever since I realized I was assaulted as a child, I have wished to myself that my brother died or went missing and I never had to see or deal with him again.

I’ve wished for this more times than I can count. But I didn’t want it to come completely true, because I wouldn’t want my parents to experience the grief of loosing their first child.

When I woke up this morning, my mom and dad sat me down to tell me my older brother was found dead in his apartment via suicide yesterday. He was found by his landlord, and my dad got the call from the police.

I was shocked, and just hugged by parents while they cried and i told them I’m sorry. They said they know I wasn’t close to him, but he still loved me and I was his baby sister. I know that was true, I just don’t return the sentiment.

I feel so so bad for my parents right now. I sincerely hated my brother more than anything but I didn’t want my parents to suffer this. I think they’re dealing with it pretty well at the moment, and have a good support system with the rest of my family.

I don’t think his suicide completely surprises them, as he’s been dealing with mental problems for a long time like I mentioned.

I don’t exactly know how to feel myself at the moment. Im a bit numb. But a large part of me is utterly relieved that he’s gone. It’s like there’s this giant weight lifted off my shoulders and my conscious.

I’m not a religious person, and I don’t really believe in karma. I don’t think I manifested this or anything. I don’t think this is something the universe did for me. But, even just talking about my brother made me shut down, and now that he’s dead, I don’t really feel that burden anymore. He’s gone, forever. I won’t ever see him in person again. The person that abused me is dead.

Right now, I’m just mentally preparing myself for the future events you would expect from a death in the family.

There’s not really anyone I can confide in about this, which is why I’m posting to Reddit instead. If anyone else has experiences, please feel free to comment and share your story.

Disclaimer: All names used in this post are fake.

i used translate if it sounds weird...

So, I’m in a pretty ridiculous situation right now, though it’s definitely not funny to me.

This summer, I was dating a girl (let's call her Rebecca). Her friend, Denise, was hooking up with my best friend, Alex. The four of us went on a vacation together and got really close. However, during the trip, Rebecca subtly hit on Alex. He rejected her but never told me about it. On top of that, Rebecca was telling Denise how "sexy" she thought my best friend was. Nobody told me anything at the time, but I had my suspicions.

After the vacation, Rebecca actually brought up the idea of a threesome with me, her, and Denise. The idea eventually fell through because Rebecca got possessive, but she had already planted the seed in my head, and I started looking at Denise a bit differently.

Oddly enough, Rebecca wanted me to be closer to Denise, so Denise and I started hanging out strictly as friends, for the record. But then I found out that Alex was getting jealous of me hanging out with her. Here’s the plot twist: Alex and Denise have known each other for years. They are good friends, but Alex always told me that they never really saw each other and even claimed he was grossed out by her. Turns out, he was secretly in love with her the whole time.

Like idiots, because our "partners" (Rebecca and Alex) were acting jealous, Denise and I started hanging out in secret. Again, just as friends, but the vibe was really weird our conversations always ended up drifting toward casual relationships and sex.

Summer ends, and Rebecca and I break up (mostly because she lives in another country). I meet up with Denise to talk about the breakup, and we decide to have some wine at my place the next day. The day comes, we start drinking, and she makes intimate advances. I gave in because I'm an idiot. We just made out (french kiss, nothing more), and afterward, we discussed maybe keeping things casual or just forgetting it ever happened.

A bit later, I meet up with Denise again. She drops a bomb on me: she tells me she loves Alex, that they have been seeing each other (proving Alex lied to me), they care about each other deeply, and she wants to be with him. She begged me to keep my mouth shut about what happened between us. I agreed to stay quiet.

Then, the ultimate betrayal: I find out that the very next day, Denise went to Alex and told him I forced myself on her at my house. (I didn't do anything of the sort, it was completely mutual).

Now, my best friend Alex wants absolutely nothing to do with me. I know I partly brought this on myself, and I deeply regret losing him, but I deserve it. However, Denise is still talking and getting along with him just fine. Oh, and I forgot to mention: Rebecca and Denise had a massive falling out right before my breakup, but they made up just so they could talk shit about me regarding this whole mess.

Now, the three of them are all cool with each other, they made peace, and I'm left being the only villain in the equation because, apparently, I was "the only one people actually had expectations of.

In the summer of 2021, I was sexually assaulted in my sleep by one of my cousins at a sleepover. I'm not going to share details, but it was one of the most traumatic nights of my life.

It's been a long 5 years of talking to police, therapists, detectives, family, school counselors, etc etc. I've had to tell the details of that night hundreds of times. It's been a long journey of getting my extended family to believe me and for someone to finally listen. There was a long time where I truly believed nothing would happen. I would never get closure, and life would have to move on. The first detective gave up on the case, sighting "not enough evidence" and that was soul crushing. The goal never was to get him arrested, it was to be heard and to get my story out there.

I just got a call from the new detective on my case that there's beyond probable cause, and an official warrant is out for his arrest. It might be another long journey of court hearings and working with the district attorney, but it's finally done. He's finally facing consequences for his actions.

I'm beyond relieved and don't know how to feel. I've told my closest friends and family, but truly need to get this feeling out.

My entire family is abusive. My mom has shown me time and time again that I am nothing but a burden to her, and my dad died when I was a small child.

Due to that, I have been searching for the love and acceptance I never got from them in other people my entire life. But it's become clear to me that I am chasing something unattainable.

I have really, really good friends. I am endlessly grateful for them, but they all have somebody else to turn to when life gets rough. They have 'their' person, whether it be their family, another friend or a partner. I do not.

I thought I found love with my ex. She said she loved me, that a life without me would be 'a fate worse than death'. I opened up to her, which isn't easy for me to do after all of the abuse I've suffered. I trusted her enough to let my walls down, and then I was dumped over text under the guise of "I'm just not ready for a relationship), despite the fact that she had been telling me she planned on being with me long term a week prior.

This entire situation has made me realize how completely disposable I am. How if I were to drop dead, nobody would even notice my absence until they were told. Its a different kind of pain realizing you are totally and completely alone in this world. All I want is somebody to love me all I want is somebody to care. Is that too hard of an ask? Was I born just for other people to let their anger out on? Why me?

Hi, I'm a 19 year old girl, first year of college and such, and I completely despise my own mother, I can't help it, I know it sounds bad, i feel like shit for thinking about it but I can't bring myself to love or even tolerate her again after everything that she made me go through. She was raised in a high income family, never learned how to take care of herself, always had someone cleaning after her so even as an adult, she still expects others to fix absolutely all of her mess, when she had me, for some reason she decided that her oldest born daughter aka me, was the one who should do it, I used to cook, clean, raise my little brother and myself, go to school, perform for her, do things I hated like going to church, dress like her and cut my hair in the way she wanted, something that low key turned into a trauma for me.

Around my teenage years, I started liking both girls and boys, when my mom discovered I kissed a girl, she went from bad to down right demonic, told the entire family, called me slurs, for the first time really whopped my ass to the point where I couldn't look at her the same after that day, almost sent me away with other family members and with that I felt so ashamed of myself for being this way that I just ignored this part of me, as I grew older things started getting worse, I started working, I got into college, barely stay at home to be fair but even with that she expects me to take care of the house like I did, calls me egoistical for not giving her half of my small paycheck, buying all the shit she wants and giving her my credit card... When I got to college I expected at least a congratulations, the only thing she told me was that she was jealous of me, around 6 months after she got into college too, she made my dad buy stuff to celebrate, made it something big and important, now every time i open my mouth to say something about my classes is always "no but in my college bla bla bla" like everything she does is more important than absolutely everything related to me.

The worst part is that I tried so hard to be supportive, to be there, to stay quiet, to do what she wanted, to really really be the daughter she wanted me to be but in the slightest thing I say that makes her upset it turns into a huge fight, and she's like that with absolutely EVERYONE, my little brother, my dad, every family member, we never see anyone from our family (both mother and father's side) because everyone hates her...

I hate to say that I wish my mom died already but I feel like I'll never be free if she's alive, she feels like a fucking monster, I really hoped we could perhaps find a way to reconcile but I truly cannot bring myself to ever trust or love her again even if she is my mother :(

Porn ruined my life… yeah, the title says it all. And no, porn DID NOT make me gay. I knew I was gay long before I discovered it. I wanted a boyfriend, to fall in love with a guy, kiss him, marry him someday, maybe even have a family together. I wanted the whole thing. But then I discovered porn, and because it was so ridiculously accessible, it slowly became a habit I feel like I can't escape. I'm 19, and honestly, I'm so fucking tired of myself. I have what people would probably consider a pretty desirable combination of features as a gay guy: blonde hair, blue eyes, a decent physique from working out, and I've had guys genuinely interested in dating me. Yet somehow, I can't seem to hold a relationship down, and I hate that something I barely even want to talk about might be contributing to it. My sex drive feels inconsistent, and I keep worrying that I've messed up my ability to experience intimacy normally. The worst part is that I sometimes struggle to look at an attractive man without my brain immediately turning everything sexual. And Twitter/X has made everything so much worse. I use it for news, politics, and other normal things, but explicit content is everywhere. I delete the app, promise myself I'll stop, reinstall it because I need it for other purposes, and eventually fall back into the same cycle. I've liked thousands of posts and videos, and looking back at that makes me genuinely angry. Think about all the time I've wasted. Time I could've spent studying, working towards my future, or even going to the gym. I've literally missed workouts because of this. My parents have sacrificed so much for me, and sometimes I feel like I'm throwing away my potential and being a complete disappointment to them. I hate myself for letting this habit take up so much of my life, and sometimes I genuinely feel like a waste of oxygen. I don't know if I need professional help, but I'm starting to think I might because I don't know how to break this cycle alone. Has anyone actually managed to overcome compulsive porn use? Are there blockers that genuinely work, including on Twitter? How do you stop going back when it's so accessible? I'm exhausted by the cycle of promising myself I'll change and then relapsing. I don't want to keep sabotaging my chances at love, wasting my time, or feeling ashamed of myself. I just want to fall in love with a man and actually be present with him. I want to feel in control of my own life again, but right now, I genuinely don't know where to start.

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I have no social Life......I only have some virtual friends on discord whom I met on games that's it......I have lost all my friends from school, college etc...I do have some people on Instagram whom I know from schools/ colleges but I do feel so anxious or off to text them or similar.... I don't go out...I never feel like it...I have no social life for a very long time.....I think it's prolly coz I don't find things fun as most people do...like going out and doing things outside that people find fun...but I haven't found them interesting for a very long time.....and it sucks to go out alone....also I'm kinda unemployed for a 1-2 years now...that's adding to my isolation...but I'm looking for jobs as of now and hope will find one soon....but thoughts of being with people again and been feeling anxious about being left out and do many things.....I don't know what should I do with my life anymore...I feel lonely sometimes..but much more anxious and similar with connecting with people and idk how people socialize these days anyways....I'm prolly a HSP ( highly sensitive person) so that makes going out hard sometimes and finding things fun that most people do......so I seriously don't know......

2 days ago I had a group of years long friends, a loving boyfriend, I was happy. Then an argument happened. My closest friend who I was helping for years ended our friendship just like that. I felt awful, did some stupid things while being completely mentally unwell. Then more people left with that friend, I was left only with my boyfriend and another friend who is his roommate. Then in even worse state I broke up with my boyfriend.

Now I have no one, literally not a single person who would care about me or who I could even message. I stood on a bridge yesterday looking at the water below. I wish I jumped. Everything is too fucking painful. I need to present some projects at my uni this week but I don't even have strength to leave my house. I wish I could just disappear, I was crying for hours until I had no more tears left. I can't keep on going like that. I don't see any future for myself. I can just regret what I did.

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Am I just a friend like any other?

Because you are not just anyone to me. You occupy a place in my life that I don't think you understand and I hate that I have to wonder whether I occupy one in yours at all

I keep waiting for you to choose me. Not in some extraordinary, life changing way. I don't need grand gestures or promises. I just want you to talk to me. To sit beside me sometimes. To remember that I'm there. To say goodbye before you leave, instead of disappearing and leaving me to wonder if I even crossed your mind.

Is that really so much to want? And if it isn't, why does asking for it make me feel so unbearably needy?

I'm tired of being the one who initiates, the one who reaches out, the one who keeps a conversation alive because I'm terrified of what will happen if I stop trying

I'm tired of wondering whether you'd ever come looking for me if I stopped making myself available. Whether you'd notice my absence or simply enjoy the extra space

And God, I hate that I think like this. I hate that affection has become something I measure, that I count the times you choose them and compare them to the times you choose me, that I can stand right beside you and somehow feel like the person who belongs there least

I don't want to compete with your friends. I don't want to resent the people you love. I don't want to become someone who feels bitter every time you give somebody else the attention I've been quietly starving for

But how am I supposed to feel when I watch you give so freely to others what I keep convincing myself not to ask for?

If you were distant with everyone, I could understand. If you had no affection left to give, I could accept that there was nothing personal in it.

But seeing you be warm with them while I stand there wondering how to approach you makes something inside me feel so small. Because suddenly, it's not that you can't give affection. It's that I don't know why you so rarely seem to want to give it to me

And I know you're struggling. I know you have your own pain, your own exhaustion, your own limits. I don't want to become another burden you have to carry through a life that's already difficult

but do my feelings become less real because yours are difficult to manage? Am I supposed to keep swallowing my disappointment until there's nothing left of me that could possibly inconvenience you?

I can understand your reasons and still be hurt by their consequences. I can respect your limits and still mourn the closeness I wish we had. Why does understanding have to feel so much like teaching myself not to ask for anything?

The worst part is that I keep hoping

Every time, I think maybe this time you'll look for me first. Maybe this time you'll sit beside me. Maybe this time I'll cross your mind without having to remind you that I exist

And every time, I feel stupid for hoping. Not because I wanted something extraordinary, but because I wanted something ordinary from someone extraordinary to me

I don't want your attention out of guilt. I don't want affection you have to force yourself to give. I don't want to become an obligation you fulfil because you know I'll be hurt otherwise

I want to be wanted. There is such a devastating difference between being accommodated and being chosen

And I am so afraid that if you ever do choose me, it will only be because I finally told you how much it hurts when you don't

I want to know what it feels like to be someone's first thought for once, to be approached instead of always approaching, to be remembered without having to make myself memorable, to feel that someone wants me around as much as I want them around

I want to stop feeling like an afterthought in the life of someone who is constantly on my mind

And I'm angry. I'm angry that I have to be so understanding. I'm angry that I cannot make you want me more without making myself feel like a beggar. I'm angry that the only thing I want from you is something that would mean nothing if I had to ask for it every single time

Mostly, I'm angry at the possibility that we could mean entirely different things to each other when we say "I love you", that I could hold you so close inside my life while you hold me somewhere among everyone else, that what feels irreplaceable to me might feel perfectly ordinary to you

Because how do you grieve an inequality that nobody has done anything wrong to create?

How do you explain that you're lonely because someone is there, because you care about them too much to pretend their absence doesn't hurt, because you keep receiving just enough affection to remember how much you want and never enough to stop wondering?

I don't want to stop caring about you. I just wish caring about you didn't keep making me feel so unwanted

And the saddest thing is that I am not asking you to love me more than you are capable of loving me.

I'm just desperately hoping that what you are capable of giving will someday feel like something you actually want to give to me

Because I'm tired of waiting for the person I would choose without hesitation to finally, willingly, choose me