After a few weeks of being away from home permanently for university (my home already had a history of abuse and neglect) I've noticed my health has gotten significantly better for no apparent reason, then it got me thinking about how many health issues I had while at home like constant nose bleeds, occasional random nausea, struggles with sleep, waking up feeling like I hadn't rested, food itself would sometimes taste odd or slightly off and the list goes on. It might seem far fetched to an outside point of view but idk.

Edit: For extra context my family have a recorded history of physical abuse and neglect to me and younger siblings ignored by social services. Being trans and queer in a religious extremist house made me more of a target than anyone in that house hence my suspicions of my food being laced as well as stress and mold in the house effecting me.

This was nothing short of a crazy happening, the company offered points through their reward program, and one day I discovered the points didn’t consume….i was like no way, and I used them to get a meal that day, and they were still Fkn there!!

I never would have imagined I can face such a livid(edit: surreal I mean) situation, but I was crazy broke and my gosh I needed that food so bad, this became my go to place every 2-3 days for at least a year…yes you would think this is something that would have been fixed in a few weeks or months..nope it lasted for at least a year, I ATE A LOT. I have no idea how this never tripped any alert or anything, I went to one specific store only just incase it had anything to do with the luck, the staff there got used to me they never questioned anything, and I still have the food app account even today, I am grateful for getting through that year due to this and have zero regrets.

I’ll keep this brief because i’ve been mulling over this situation that happened at the beginning of july
this year. I (24f) stopped being friends with my friend group because of therapy speak (along with a whole slew of other things).

I saw this pattern in problems with other people that this friend group interacted with, and when they ostracized my partner out of the group as well. Any confronting text or conversation to talk about what happened was met with sterile therapy speak and almost corporate HR problem management.

This friend group attached hard hitting labels of abusive, cruel, gaslighting and manipulation to many actions that i felt were just miscommunication at its finest.

This all came to a head when after months of balancing this friend group separate from my relationship, they texted me upset that my partner unfollowed them on instagram. (this was after they ousted them from the friend group because of a rough patch my partner and i were having🙄) This friend group ganged up on me with unrealistic expectations of bridging the gaps in communication between them and my partner.

When my partner found me crying because none of the friends were taking into consideration what I was saying, they took matters into their own hands and contacted them. Essentially texting them a big Fuck You.

They called them abusive and cruel, telling me how a soulmate would never talk to my closest friends in that way.

I ghosted all of them after weeks of silence from them, and the only time i was texted was to receive a sterile therapy-speak message on my partner and I’s anniversary.

Safe to say my relationship is doing great, my life is fulfilling, my mind is so calm.

Good Riddance.

When I (23ftM) was 17, I was home alone with my mother’s oldest son (27M) who I don’t view as a brother any longer. He was high off his mind (I don’t know on what), but was acting weird and making comments about wanting to end his life. I was sitting on the couch, and he sat next to me closely. I froze when it started and to this day, I haven’t been able to verbalize exactly what he did even in therapy. I’ve only ever been able to mention it by sugar-coating it, and only my therapist and my girlfriend know.

Recently, I decided to go no contact with him as I genuinely cannot continue having him in my life. He is a very self-centered and narcissistic person who genuinely never does anything for anyone out of the kindness of his heart, but expects to be treated like that by everyone. My mom found out my middle brother (25M) and I don’t talk to the eldest anymore, and she began saying to me that I should “wait until I am older so I can really see how important family is.”

She continued guilting me, saying things about how he isn’t “that bad,” and that she doesn’t understand why I would exaggerate so much and not talk to him. I realize she doesn’t know this key information, but I just know my mother would not respond to this well. She hasn’t exactly responded well in the past when I have undergone traumatic events.

I’m standing my ground regardless of what she says, because at the end of the day, I need to have my own back. It’s a bummer that she is reacting this way, but I suppose the lesser evil between this and telling her the truth, especially knowing she will not respond positively :/

TW: EATING DISORDER / GROOMING / RAPE / SUICIDE / DRUGS

I feel so guilty because my therapist at the time (we'll call him T) told me i wasnt enough for him, but i would finally be enough to keep him from boredom if i got my twin sister involved. I never wanted him to do the same thing he did to me, to her. He said it wouldnt be sexual if my sister got involved (and i, as a 15 year old (who had a very bad home life and no one else) did not want to share him in that way. Then it happened, and we both went to therapy together. I remeber crying after every session, begging him to just PLEASE help me with my depression/suicidal thoughts, and he always said the next session would be better, and that he'd actually try to help- he never did but gave us just enough to keep coming back.

To leave felt impossible because he had isolated us from our family by telling us how happy we should be that we have someone like him, who actually understands us, and that we shouldnt talk to our family about our problems because they could make it worse. He said if we tell them about our anorexia, they would stop us from losing weight. He told us about how he was an anorexia coach for other woman, and told us to eat 200-300 calories a day, giving us calorie plans and asking for body checks (pictures of weightloss results on the body) i was 37kg at my lowest. I still have an eating disorder but am at a healthier weight now for my frame. We finally took it to the police recently, but it will be traumatic in court.

He would be extremely agressive while assaulting us, hitting and slapping until i couldnt see or hear from the ringing. I feel so guilty for dragging my sister into that. He told me "you have the body of a 13 year old, but the brain of a 30 year old, sexy!" And i took it as a compliment because i just wanted him to like me.

I came from an extreme trauma background, which mightve played a role in the way i reacted (we were neglected emotionally and physically as children, as we are actually triplets and it was too much work for my mother while in an active meth addiction, but shes better now.) I had spoken about 3 words w my dad within 6 months while living in the same house as him, because T told me to. This all happened at 15, i am now 20- at 18 i fell into a very extreme cocaine addiction (i am a high functioning autistic and drug addict, i never had problems financing my addiction because i served tables with great tips) i then switched to crystal meth again for 6 months. I gave up those addictions a few months ago, now i only drink. Unfortunately my constant feeling of understimulation leads me to drink quite a bit, im an alcoholic now. Yesterday i only drank 2 shots in the morning, nothing more- which seems concerning but is the first time in 3 months i havent gotten really drunk, although i couldnt sleep well because of the withdrawals. I now smoke weed almost daily, and engage in hard drug use probably weekly (speed, coke) im trying to get better. But the anorexia in me also uses drugs as a great apetite surpressant. Loved crystal for that :( i am getting better though

I'm 22F, I used to physically SH but I'm more off and on with that now. Since I was maybe 12ish I replaced the habit mostly with purposely seeking out violent misogynistic content online to sort of egg myself on. It honestly kind of started with a morbid curiosity about these communities but now I find it kind of addicting.

I ofc have thought about ways to stop myself from doing this, but then I see the same rhetoric in my life offline so like what's the point lol? This is just how the world is. I don't have anyone to talk to about my problems which is why I'm posting this lol.

I make like less than 600 per paycheck so no therapy for me :(

Hi everyone,
I’m a girl gamer, and I need to shed light on a massive issue with the Xbox Looking For Group (LFG) system and automated bans.
I play a lot of Fortnite. Over the years, I've had to quit the game for long stretches of time for one simple reason: whenever I make an LFG post, random men join my party and act absolutely disgusting. (Not all men) When I tell them to leave and remove them, they report me for random violations. Even men I don't invite will spam my LFG posts and report them out of spite, even though I've never broken a single guideline.
The worst I have ever done in a lobby is some mild cursing, yet I get hit with constant temporary suspensions. Because the suspensions are relatively short, they are unappealable. When you try to reach an actual person at Xbox or Microsoft support to explain what is happening, you are completely gatekept by an AI. It is ridiculous. A few years ago, I actually had to quit Fortnite for two full years because I was running out of enforcement "streaks" and was terrified of losing my entire account permanently just because people wouldn't stop.
I recently started playing again about a month ago, and it's already happening all over again. Men are spamming my LFG posts with messages saying "reported" simply because I didn't invite them. Just today, mid-game, I was hit with another notification.
Being a girl gamer is already difficult enough, but constantly getting suspended for things I didn't do because of upset men is exhausting. Microsoft and Xbox would rather rely on a broken AI reporting system than put an actual human in front of you who can understand the nuance of targeted harassment.
I’ve pulled all-nighters for this game, especially lately trying to collect the new sprites, and now I can't even enjoy it with my friends. I'm not posting this expecting Microsoft to magically fix it for me today, but to shed light on a toxic loophole that I know so many other women are going through. Something needs to change. I want to be blunt in no way am I trying to target men or any of that stuff. I’ve had my post taken down already when trying to post it somewhere else this is simply to share my story and make awareness. This isn’t me trying to make anybody sound bad or look bad. I want to clarify this. This is simply me venting about things that have been going on for quite a while and I’ve noticed as a girl gamer and that are affecting me and I’m sure it’s affecting quite a few so I just wanted to spread some awareness and share my personal story.

I weigh 287lbs and I'm only 18, I've always been fat, my parents hate to cook so we almost always had fast food. I've always been excluded at school, always struggled with gym class, I barely have any friends. I struggle to find new clothes, I struggle with tying my shoes, I struggle with walking for too long. I just wish I was fucking normal, no boy looks at me, no one thinks I'm pretty because I'm so huge.

Posting this on Reddit cuz I can't say that to ppl ik irl because they all say "you're not fat, you're beautiful" no I'm fucking obese, ik it's stupid but I just wish someone would find me attractive

I just made the most trashy dinner, and it was wonderful.

So I have been sick to my stomach for a few days. I haven’t been able to really keep anything down. Tonight, I made a dinner that should be absolutely disgusting, but it was amazing and I’m laying here not feeling nauseous for the first time in three days. Here is my abomination:

One potato. Wash and then rub salt on the skin. Wrap in a paper towel and soak. Put on a plate and steam in the microwave until soft. While you are doing that, make a box of velveeta shells and cheese. Once the potato is done, smash open, put butter, salt, pepper, Parmesan cheese (I also added Kinds garlic brown butter mix) and ranch dressing. Take the shells and cheese and top the potato.

I don’t know what demon possessed me to do this, but this is the best I have felt in three days.

Throwaway because I feel guilty about this.

I (early 20s M) have been allergic to cow's milk for my entire life. Not lactose intolerance, that's a different thing that I don't have. It was bad when I was younger (full blown anaphylactic reactions, throat closing up, that sorta thing) but it's gotten slightly better with age (now it's only coughing and sneezing with itchiness for a few hours up to a day).

I tend to avoid cheese or milk-heavy products because it's usually not worth the hassle of having flu-like symptoms for the night after eating them, though on rare occasions I will enjoy a small milkshake or a small bowl of ice cream or cereal as a treat because it's worth being sick over. I also try not to make any kind of deal or fuss over getting milk or something with cheese in it unexpectedly, because I don't want to be rude or impolite and it isn't like it would put me in the hospital or anything.

The reason I'm venting is kind of petty and selfish, but here goes... Anytime anyone in my family goes out and gets everybody some food from a place, they tend to order everyone the same thing. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful that I'd receive anything for free, let alone free food, but everyone else in my family LOVES cheese. Cheeseburgers, cheese steaks, cheese pizza, cheese burritos, if there is an option to get cheese on their food, they will get cheese. Which, because everyone gets the same thing, means I get cheese too.

I genuinely loathe the days that someone goes out to get everyone some food, because it's a massive white elephant of "be grateful because it's free food, even though it will make you violently sick, and you can't say no otherwise it'll be wasted and you'll be the bad guy". The worst part is that I've repeatedly reminded everyone over the span of years that "hey this stuff still makes me sick even if it isn't gonna kill me, please don't get anything for me if you're getting stuff with cheese on it I don't want you wasting your money" and they either forget or just flat out don't care, and then would guilt trip me about not eating something with cheese in it. I feel like I'm stuck in a no win situation of "get sick at random or insult whatever family member bought the food by not eating" and that there's no negotiating as there hasn't been any progress made towards getting them to care or acknowledge what I tell them in years.

I guess this is the end of my rant, so uhh in conclusion, please listen to and remember allergy information, it is important.

Sorry if the formatting is weird, on mobile

(English is not my first language, sorry if it's not completely clear)

I (34F) had to make the a terrible choice 25 weeks pregnant. My baby boy wasn't going well in my womb. He was not likely able to live and if he lived it will be with a lot of complications and with my foster kids I will not be able to take care of any of them. So on the October 22nd 2024 we terminated my pregnancy. It was the hardest decision ever in my life. I mourn everyday since this day.

Soon after, I got pregnant with my baby girl. She is the best thing to happen in my life. She is such a joyful baby. This week end we will celebrate her first birthday. I'm really excited about it. It will be a blast, I'm pretty sure.

She was born on the October 22nd 2025. So I feeled the need to talk about my grief. I have those conflicting feelings of grief and happiness. It's such a weird thing to have a child on the same day that I had lost one before.

This roller-coaster of emotions is really hard and sometimes I feel guilty for my girl to be sad when thinking of her birthday. I know it's normal feeling this way about my lost, but I can't help feeling guilty when I looked at her smiling and I was sad.

I will finish with I love you my sweet girl and I love you my sweet baby boy that couldn't be with us. Your mom will forever love both of you. ❤️

Some mentioning of sexually explicit ewness so I’m warning from the start.

TLDR below but It’s basically the title. My first experience living alone was not the best. I’d been in a terribly abusive relationship and needed so much support from family that living far away from them was just the worst but I needed to for university.

Nevertheless I womanned up and finished my courses on time and graduated with pretty good grades. I secured a couple offers and a job before I left, but I felt that I needed a break so I was able to get one that starts in a couple months.

So now I have no money except a couple thousand bucks saved off from my last job and no income because I had to move back home which is hours away from where my life and previous job used to be.

It was going well at first: I was able to rest my body to some extent, and I had moved away from the environment that reminded me of the pos that ruined my life there for a couple of years.

But here comes the kicker: part of me cannot WAIT to start this stupid job so I could move out again now, when I deliberately picked a less appealing one from my options so I could go from my parents’ place! (I need to save money over the next few years).

Why? Because I guess I have underestimated how terrible it would be to go from living with roommates who were, sure, late at taking out their garbage every now and then, and occasionally had the loud phone call, to living with a constantly screaming and shouting (not in pain, just for fun) from his wake up time which is 2 AM to 3 AM, constantly throwing heavy toys that are deafening, constantly mastrubating (and loudly), constantly spitting and shitting and pissing, eating ten times a day, needing supervision the whole day sibling.

And here’s another kicker: he is IN a facility that could take him the whole week if we wanted. I’m talking day and night. Literal God send if you’ve lived my childhood. But the kid hates that place and so my parents have been slowly bringing him back home for more days a week and now we’re sitting at four fucking nights a week here. I don’t want to sound heartless to that either because in truth I’m conflicted on this too: I also hate it a bit when he goes because I don’t want him to be unhappy, but then he comes and I can never sleep.

My body just won’t adjust to sleep through his screams and smashing of shit like it probably was forced to as a child for most nights at least. I’m a woman so having to deal with the loud masturbating from your BROTHER has been the most uncomfortable thing ever (we never addressed this, which was hell for me as a child still growing up) and he sometimes hits and scratches and bruises me (but my parents get the worst of that. Yes it’s as heartbreaking as it sounds on aging parents).

I try to remedy this. Take away heavier toys but my mum would be like “but that’s his comfort toy!” And gives it back. Try to stop him from pleasuring himself so loudly one of them says “he’s finally not bothering anyone, don’t you dare let him get up!” I keep trying to tell them that you CAN teach him some things, because I HAVE. For example, he knows that my room is no enter zone and barely breaks the rule. He now knows that he’s not allowed to enter my space if he’s going to be touching himself. But they just claim that because THEY allow him to do everything he finds it ok to let me off. And hey maybe they’re right, but they never even TRIED.

I get why, I’m not a completely callous monster (just a bit as you can tell from this) they’re sleep deprived, with no social life, and barely any other life beside him so they’re just… very very consumed in him. But I just can’t be. And I haven’t for years now, and it’s unbearable.

The saddest part is: it’s always been one reason I’ve respected my parents so deeply that they have put themselves through so much hell for this kid. I mean me and my other sibling who isn’t disabled were never really expected to take care of him ever and they carried the brunt of the burden (though the older I get the more I realize small and huge ways we were burdened too).
But I can’t BEAR this life… I really need to save money with this first job but I’m guessing I’ll have move out which might cause so many problems. But more than that I don’t know what to do this break that I can’t escape from now.

TLDR; parents are too much of angels and they never disciplined my brother so I’m not even sure if it’s possible to remedy this, but he’s constantly loud, wakes up from 3AM every day, and is completely inappropriate. I have to live in this house for months with no income so I’m stuck this way. Ideally I didn’t want to move out when my job started so I could save money but considering risking ruining my future a bit for that. I don’t know what to do.

My (f20) boyfriend (m21) has a best friend who we’ll call Quinn (f21). Quinn and her girlfriend have been together since they were 14 and are honestly really cute together. I like both of them, I think they’re cool and me and Quinn’s girlfriend have a lot in common so we have things to talk about whenever we’re all hanging out. Quinn though? Fucking HATES me.

I don’t know why. Me and my boyfriend have been together for nearly a year and the entire time it’s like she doesn’t trust me? His last girlfriend was insane, so I understand being protective of him, but it gets to a point.

The final straw was when he drove me to my nonna’s house 5 hours away. Here’s the thing though, I did not want him to. I was planning on taking the train by myself, but everyone in my life thought that was stupid and didn’t want me to go. But I really needed to see my nonna. I guess my boyfriend thought that I was going to cave and ask him to take me, but I didn’t, so the night before I was supposed to leave he just straight up told me that he’s taking me. We argued about it all night, like genuinely argued, but eventually I relented. Ultimately I’m glad I did but that’s another discussion. He dropped me off and picked me up 5 days later.

Quinn did NOT like this. She said he was stupid for doing that. When he asked if she would’ve done the same for her girlfriend she said “Yes but that’s different.”

How exactly is that different Quinn? I get they’ve been together for a LOT longer than him and I have. But we’re all adults, he had the means, and I paid him for gas (which we also fought about, because he refused to tell me how much the gas cost for the trip). Not to mention, I didn’t want him to. I didn’t even ask. Obviously I’m glad he did and we had a great time on the roadtrip LOL but he is a grown man capable of making his own decisions.

Anyway, that’s my rant. Quinn, I hope you find inner peace because I think you’re a cool person and you’re a very good friend to my boyfriend. Just please stop assuming the worst in me. 🙏🏻 I ALSO WANT TO ADD: There is ZERO chance that Quinn is harboring secret feelings for my boyfriend. She is in love with her girlfriend and I’m surprised they’re not married yet. And they are very cute together and make a beautiful couple. I just wanted to add that in there because that’s the first thing everyone asks when I explained this to other people.

Me and my dad share the same name so he often will jokingly call me daddy. It’s been his nickname for me since I was a child. I get how it might’ve been considered cute then, but I’m 20 years old and it’s honestly pretty embarrassing. I used to dislike it even in middle school, but didn’t say anything because I felt too embarrassed.

It really gets me when he does it in public. My memory is kind of crappy, but he usually calls me by my other nickname when we’re at home. He sometimes will say “daddy” but not as much as my other nickname. He also shouts it which just adds to the embarrassment.

I just hate the weird looks I get. For starters, Im an adult now so people get the wrong impression almost immediately, and we don’t really look alike. I take after my mom and I don’t know where I got my height from, so I’m taller than him. I just feel like that adds fire to the flame.

I want to get him to stop, but I feel like I’d be hurting his feelings. I thought he’d drop it once I hit 18, but I was so wrong.

I‘d say I’ve been in love two times in my life. The first time was kind of okay in comparison, because I was in love with a classmate, whom I saw pretty much everyday, but it was more of an „admiring from afar“ kind of love. I was way to shy to make a move and it kind of fiddled out after 2-3 years, but during that time I remember being completely enthralled by her and trying to always act cool when she was around.

The situation now is a whole lot worse for me, because I think I’m really in love with a close friend of mine. It’s different from what I described above, because she knows me quite well, she laughs at my jokes, sometimes insists on hugging as a greeting, we text from time to time about different kinds of things, we tease each other all the time and see each other basically every day, but like outside of school. There even were occasions where just the two of us met up for a short time just to talk and drink or smoke. The thing is, I’m almost 100% sure she doesn’t see me in a romantic light. This is just a guess, but from the way she’s been behaving lately I’m very sure she’s in at least a talking stage with someone as of recently.

I just hate the feeling that my entire mood can be influenced by how good my interactions with the person I am in love with are. For example in both these cases, more so right now, my entire mood of the day can be ruined if I don’t see her, or don’t talk to her much. I even feel like I’m kind of subconsciously neglecting other very important friendships because I revolve everything in my head around her.

At the same time I feel like I’m simply ignoring „bad“ things about her, which also obviously isn’t great.

I don’t know, if I could chose between being a „hopeless romantic“ and just not feeling romantic love for anyone I’d choose the latter every time.

I have never told any friends, family members, or peers how I'm truly doing in life. I just need to spit all of this out because I have nobody to trust.

I've had a very rough life since childhood. Been in and out therapy, psychiatric hospitals and such. I won't get into all of that, but basically im 18 now and I still fuck myself over every day. Why? I have no clue. I think the feeling of being hopeless and exhausted has been associated with safety in my head. I want to feel like that because its the only thing ive known.

So I sabotaged therapy, quit going, flush my pills down the toilet, overwork myself like 50+ hours a week, burn myself with cigarettes, literally pull my hair out, get into toxic relationships all because I fucking like it and its driving me insane. When my family notices or asks what the hell is wrong, I tell them im doing amazing, everything is good and I feel so giddy inside lying to them. I like having no comfort??

Relationships are awful for me. Every guy feels boring and exhausting to be around. They wanna treat me well, take me out, flex their money. I should enjoy that but it just disgusts me. I want to be yelled at and beaten. I dont fucking know why.

I dont even know how to explain to shit, long story short I hate my life and I want I deserve nothing good. Help what the hell is wrong with me? For once in my life im reaching out for comfort.

I always feel guilty saying this, but I miss that so much. That’s when I got into all my hobbies and became closer to people. I worry I’m awkward in real life, but it was much easier to make friends there. A lot of those were irl people whose numbers I got, and if it were not for the pandemic I know we would not be as close as we are now. It was also good for my health too. I’m always sick or tired or sick and tired. Pre pandemic and post pandemic I got every virus in every virus season. During the pandemic I wasn’t going outside to be exposed, and I got to experience a clear head for the first time in a while. I had no issues with isolation, and honestly I don’t feel much sympathy for those who do anymore. Everyone talks about ‘returning to normal’ but for me that was the closest I was to a normal. I would frequently ask for during pandemic procedure to apply for me, I was never given that mercy. But this time I knew it wasn’t because it was not possible, but because the ‘normal’ was worth protecting. Hardly anyone wears a mask anymore hardly anyone social distances anymore. They say it’s because ‘things are normal now we don’t need that’, but o me it’s only normal for normal people. I hate so much about this post pandemic world because I got the freedom of the pandemic to know what normal feels like. If it weren’t for the widespread illness and death I’d wish for another one to come, this time for four years. But I don’t say that because I don’t want to seem unsympathetic to those who had their lives turned upside down, but really I am unsympathetic

For a long time, I never considered myself a victim of rape. I’ve heard and related to certain parts of stories of survivors, but never considered myself to be one as well. I never thought I was “too good” or “above that” by any means. I was having an internal battle with myself with the voice of my attacker playing the role of my self-oppression. I made up countless excuses for him, “maybe he didn’t know it was rape”, “maybe somehow i made it look like i consented”, “I never actually say the word no.”, “I was sleeping with people already, so he might have thought it was okay”, “I was friendly to him earlier that night”. Now I know that none of this makes it okay, but let’s play with the idea that he didn’t know it was rape.

Maybe he didn't know it was rape when I was 16 and he was over 18.
Maybe he didn’t know it was rape when he saw me heavily intoxicated earlier that night.
Maybe he didn’t know it was rape when he was guilt-tripping me into letting him come to my house.
Maybe he didn’t know it was rape when he followed me into my bed after I said I was going to sleep because I was too drunk.
Maybe he didn’t know if it was rape when he had to manoeuvre my limp body into a position where he could force his penis inside of me.
Maybe he didn’t know it was rape because he didn’t see me pass out during it, or maybe he didn’t hear me mumbling unintelligible sentences.

I don’t remember when he left, or when it was over, falling asleep, or even what month it took place, but I do remember the way he held my legs apart, and the way he put his hand over my mouth because he knew my parents were home.
For a long time, I never said he raped me, but when I told my friends the story they told me it was rape. I was my rapist’s biggest defender, always disagreeing when people said it was rape, always saying it was my fault. I took shit for years because I was scared of messing up the life of the well-liked, star athlete, from a small town in California who had a big bright future ahead of him.
I got death threats from his friends. I was the girl that made him cheat on his loving girlfriend. I was a whore. I wanted it.
I did not want it. I was only 16.
And I am a victim.

So I’ve lived with my grandparents since I was in middle school, and I am now a junior in college and about to turn 21 in a few days. Ever since my grandmother died, it’s been just the two of us in the house. Obviously it’s sucked because she’s gone and it’s weird and not the same, even after so much time has passed. Towards the last year of her life, I took over a majority of dishes and laundry and such, and was happy to do so because he spent most of his time taking care of her.

Don’t get me wrong, I love him dearly and he’s taught me so much and has always supported me. But goddamn the man does not clean up after himself and it has always been an issue since I was little. My main gripe is that he constantly leaves piles of dirty dishes in the sink and on the counters. I’m not joking when I say he dirties like 10 or so dishes per day, despite most of his meals being frozen ones that don’t need to be plated (they come in a plastic plate thing). And on the occasion he “washes” them by hand, when I go to put them away they are always covered in a dried greasy layer of grime. I cannot tell you the amount of times I’ve had to re wash dishes in the rack because they were all dirty.

I will wash the dishes and legit come home from class after 3 or so hours to see the sink full of plates and bowls and dirty pans on the stove. I came home once from a week long trip with my friends and had to scrub fucking mold out of my sink. I am genuinely astounded that he’s capable of dirtying so many dishes in such a short amount of time. We have a dishwasher but he never helps me unloads it. He’ll just pick clean dishes from it while piling dirty dishes on the counters until there is nothing clean left.

You may be thinking “Why don’t you just suck it up and wash them to have clean dishes?” And so I answer, I barely have any free time. Between school and work, I kid you not that over a week or two he will dirty all of the fucking dishes in the house. I cannot clean them faster than the rate he dirties them. I alter between cycles of constantly washing his dishes and cycles of only doing dishes that I dirty and letting him deal with his mess. But I always end up trying to keep up with the rate he dirties them because I get so sick of not having clean cookware to make myself food.

I think the thing that pisses me off the most is that he is able bodied and fully capable of washing his damn dishes. He is also retired and sits at home all day, where he does some freelance writing and such. He has copious amounts of free time, a majority of which is spent at home in his office. Most of his plates are barely even dirty, having had only a sandwich on them. But every single time he just rinses it with water and piles dishes with food still on them on top, making them all disgusting. Like how hard is it to take 10 fucking seconds to wash and rinse your plate that has a few drops of mustard on it?

Yes I have talked to him about it. No he does not listen to me. He’s even gotten mad at me telling me I don’t always clean my dishes too, despite me always doing so because I can’t stand dirty dishes just sitting out. He’s said that his system of rinsing and piling them everywhere waiting to go into the dishwasher is just fine. It’s definitely not. I am on the verge of begging my boyfriend’s mom to let me move in with them and pay her rent because I’m so tired of it.

He loved me when I gained weight, when I looked anorexic, when I had weird looking teeth, when I acted crazy and wild. he said there’s no one else in his life but me. he told me he’s not remarrying if I ever passed suddenly.

I was ugly, and every year he made me feel beautiful. until I wasn’t ugly anymore. until I was turning heads. he is the one for me.

whenever I’m afraid of trying something new, he was there.

we’ve had our problems, but he loved ME more than myself.

I don’t know what I did to deserve such a man, but no other man comes close to him.

To another year of bliss, he’s the last love of my life

Since I was about ten years old, I was always the ugly kid, the one everyone excluded. Even the people I considered my best friends would laugh at me and run away from me, pretending it was just a game.

At home, my mother was the only person I felt didn’t judge me. My father often came home stressed from work, and whenever I tried to show him something or talk to him, he would dismiss it or make me feel like it didn’t matter.

I think everything I went through during those years has shaped the person I am today. I hate my voice and the way I speak because people used to say I sounded stupid. Even now, when someone jokes about my voice, I laugh along, but deep down I feel insecure and angry about having this voice.

I also hate my face and body. I consider myself unattractive, even ugly. Since childhood, I’ve avoided having my picture taken because of my insecurities. Even today, I avoid mirrors and cameras because I don’t like looking at myself. Sometimes I want to look at old photos of myself, but I barely have any from after I turned eight.

I constantly feel like I don’t belong anywhere, like I’m always in the way. Now that I’m living somewhere away from the people I’m close to, I feel lonelier than ever. I don’t mind being alone sometimes, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my time here feeling this way.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about ways to improve myself, and I’ve considered starting to go to the gym. I guess it’s understandable to develop these feelings after everything I’ve experienced, but I don’t want to feel this way forever.

I just want to feel like a normal person, to feel attractive and, above all, to feel loved. I hope that little by little I can become someone I’m proud of, someone my younger self wouldn’t be ashamed of.

English isn’t a language I’m fluent in, and I struggle to express myself properly, so I used AI to translate this. However, everything written here comes from my own experiences and feelings. I’ve needed to get this off my chest for a long time, and I just wanted somewhere to let it all out.

I just want to start by saying that this is something I (23F) have been dealing with for years.

I’ve always been the odd one out. I’m consistently viewed as independent, admirable, strong-willed, and a leader. It’s been that way since I was like nine.

But despite how other people perceive me, I’ve always felt incredibly disconnected from the people around me. So, as a child, I learned to enjoy my own company. I’ve been this way through my teenage years and into adulthood.

I’ve never really felt like someone people genuinely want around, but I’ve never been someone they particularly dislike, either. I’m not seen as a problem, but I’m rarely given much thought. I’m just there. And for the most part, I’ve never really let that bother me.

But I think it has affected me more than I’ve ever wanted to admit.
I’ve struggled with my mental health for years. I attempted suicide in October 2025, and again in January of this year, on my birthday. All of which no one knows about. I don’t say that for sympathy. It’s just part of the reality of what I’ve been dealing with.

There are days when I go home alone and do nothing but lie down and cry. Other days, I just stare at a wall in complete silence. I just exist until I have to get up and do everything all over again.

And what makes it particularly difficult is that my phone can be full of people reaching out to me because they need something. They need help, advice, support, an answer, or someone to figure something out for them. People know how to find me when they need me. But there’s a difference between being needed and being wanted, and I’ve spent so long feeling like I only experience the former.

People seem to expect me to have a crowbar for a spine. To be strong enough to carry everyone else’s problems, absorb their emotions, and somehow keep moving as though none of it affects me. I’m expected to be the person who can handle anything because I’ve always been perceived as someone who can.

But when I finally start shutting down because I’m struggling with my own problems, not a single eye is batted my way. It almost feels as though it’s on purpose.

I rarely express anger outwardly, but I’ve been told so many times throughout my life that I’m “extremely intimidating” that I feel like I have to put in extra effort just to seem approachable. To be bubbly. To make other people comfortable around me. To reassure everyone that I’m not as intimidating as they think I am.

And honestly? I’m tired.

The hardest part is that people seem to seek my approval, respect my opinions, and look to me for guidance, but they rarely seem to care enough to ask how I’m doing. They want the strong, independent version of me, but there never seems to be much room for the person underneath all of that.
So yeah, in short, it’s just an incredibly isolating feeling.

I’ve tried reaching out to people. I’ve tried being more open, making more of an effort, and putting myself out there. But it always seems to lead back to the same place. No matter how I approach it, I end up feeling just as disconnected as I did before. And recently, I went out and tried to put myself out there for the first time in a long time, only to come away feeling like I’d been reminded of something I’ve known for years.
People don’t really know me. And I know, deep down, they really don’t even want to.

I don’t think people necessarily dislike me. I think, in a lot of cases, they just don’t think about me at all. I’m someone they can rely on.

And I think that’s what hurts the most.

I want to clarify that being alone, in and of itself, doesn’t necessarily bother me. I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember. I learned to enjoy my own company a long time ago, and I’m genuinely comfortable doing things by myself. I don’t need to be surrounded by people 24/7, and I don’t expect to be everyone’s favorite person.

But there’s a difference between enjoying your own company and constantly feeling reminded that, if you disappeared from everyone’s day-to-day life, they might not notice until they needed something from you.

I think that’s what I’m struggling with the most lately. Not the isolation itself, but the feeling that this is all my life is ever going to be.

It’s difficult to keep experiencing the same thing over and over again.

I’m not writing this because I’m angry at anyone. I don’t think I am, anyway. This feeling has been a part of my life for so long that I’ve come to accept it. I’ve gotten used to being alone. I’ve gotten used to being the person who figures things out for herself. I’ve gotten used to not expecting much from anyone.

But accepting something doesn’t necessarily mean it doesn’t have an effect I guess.

So yeah. I don’t know.

I don’t really know what I’m looking for by posting this.
I just needed to say it somewhere that someone might actually read it.

I (23M) recently had my birthday, and I've been struggling to figure out if my feelings are justified or if I'm holding onto something that I should just let go.

For context, I'm a very introverted person. I don't like big birthday celebrations, I don't enjoy being the centre of attention, and I honestly wasn't planning on doing anything for my birthday. I was happy with just having a normal day.

I've also been living with my cousin (28M) for the past few months. I sleep on a couch in the living room, which honestly doesn't bother me.

My birthday was on a Wednesday, so I went to work like normal and brought some muffins for my coworkers. After work, my parents met up with me and took my brother and I out for Sushi, I then went to the gym, had a really good workout, and was actually having a great day.

When I got home, my cousin asked if I wanted to go to a weed dispensary lounge with him to chill. I said yes because it was my birthday and I thought it would be a relaxed way to end the night.

We went there, played pool, listened to music, I smoked (my cousin doesnt smoke), and I was genuinely enjoying myself.

While we were there, one of the girls working there caught my attention. She was really attractive and exactly my type. She asked if we were going to a nearby bar afterwards. My cousin said it was up to me, and honestly, she looked at me and I got nervous and agreed.

By the time the dispensary closed, which was at 10PM, I was tired. I told my cousin before we even left that I actually didn't want to go anymore and that I was happy with how the night had gone.

He told me I would enjoy it because it was karaoke night and I that i told the girl working there i would go. I then told him that I don't want to go anymore tho and that the girl gave me "that look" with her eyes and hypnotized me. he didn't take no for an answer and since he was driving i really had little options.

We got to the bar and had a drink. I was already high from smoking, so I was drinking slowly because I didn't want to feel sick.

About 30-45 minutes later, I started getting cold sweats and feeling uncomfortable. I knew that feeling and didn't want to risk throwing up or passing out in a bar, so I went to lie down in the car.

After 5-15 minutes I felt better.

My cousin messaged me saying he was just finishing my drink and then we'd leave which relieved me. during that time I was just watching tik tok/Instagram vids on my phone to pass the time.

About an 40 minutes later, I messaged him saying something like, "I know that second drink is finished already."

He came out and I told him I was ready to go home.

Instead of leaving, he asked why I wanted to go home and seemed confused. I told him "you said you would finish my drink then we'd go?" he ignored my comment then went to the boot of his car. I thought to myself "if he gets me a blanket, im going to be more annoyed cause that is not the point". He then grabbed a towel from the car and threw it over me, basically saying I could sleep there while he went back inside.

I told him the problem wasn't that I was tired or needed to sleep. The problem was that I didn't want to be there anymore.

He still went back inside for another drink.

A while later he came back and asked if he could use my bank card to buy another drink because he would pay me back the next day. I did not answer him cause I was annoyed and thought "the audacity of this man". He then took my wallet, took the card out and flashed it to me asking if it was okay.

At that point I was honestly too frustrated to argue and told him "Just go" cause I didn't want to speak to him anymore.

While I was sitting alone in the car, the same girl from the dispensary arrived with her friends and parked next to us. I was hoping they couldn't see me lying in the back of the car because I felt embarrassed.

Eventually my cousin came back at 1AM, but he had decided to drive another girl home first because she had been drinking.

During the drive, she was flirting with him and he was flirting back. I didn't really care about that part, but I was already upset because I just wanted to go home.

After we dropped her off, the first thing my cousin said was:

"I did all that and got nothing."

That was the point where I finally snapped.

He asked me if I was mad at him while driving home, and he genuinely seemed confused.

I told him everything that had bothered me.

That I had told him multiple times I wanted to go home.

That I had been sitting alone in the car for over an hour.

That every decision seemed to become about what he wanted:

one more drink,

staying longer,

using my bank card,

dropping someone else off,

doing what other people wanted.

And I told him that what made it worse was that it was MY birthday. I wasn't expecting some huge celebration. I just wanted the day to go how I wanted.

He said that people kept offering him drinks and that he couldn't really say no.

Then, halfway home, he casually told me:

"By the way, that girl from the dispensary was asking where you were. She said she wanted to talk to you."

That honestly threw me.

If he had told me that while I was sitting in the car, I maybe would have gone back inside. I was tired and annoyed, but the same pretty girl asking where i was, i definitelywould habe gone back.

Instead, I only found out when we were already halfway home.

We got home around 1:30 AM. He then went back out because he had promised some girls he would drop them off.

I then went to bed after that and around 2:30AM he comes back home and whispers in my ear as im sleeping "I brought a girl home, don't come in the room". it's 2 in the morning and im sleeping, I wasn't planning on.

The next morning, I couldn't even get my work clothes because they were in his room and he had brought a girl home, plus the door was closed. im not about to walk in on them both sleeping like that in the morning. He also still had my bank card.

I ended up going to work wearing clothes over my pajamas.

At work, I couldn't focus. I was constantly fidgeting and replaying the night in my head. Around lunchtime I told my boss I wasn't in the right mental state and left early.

I sat in my car and cried for a bit because I wasn't even angry anymore. I just felt exhausted and hurt.

The reason I'm asking if I'm overreacting is because I don't think my cousin was trying to ruin my birthday. I genuinely think he thought we were having a good night.

But at the same time, I can't get past how many times I told him what I wanted and it felt like none of it mattered.

I also wonder if part of this is on me because I tolerated it for so long instead of being firmer and saying "No, we're leaving."

I don't know if I'm overreacting, or if I'm only now processing how much that night actually affected me. Either way, I needed to get this off my chest.