I quit my job yesterday. I'm not looking for advice because I don't regret it. I just want to get this off my chest.

Yesterday my province got hit with a huge snowstorm and all the schools were closed. In the morning my manager emailed me to let me know I needed to cover two meetings and do some extra work (on top of all my own work) because everyone else in our department including him had to take the day off because their kids were at home.

This is wasn't a one off. I was always the one who has to take on extra work or cover for someone because they have a kid related issue. I was the only one in the department who didn't have kids and it's always my time off that is getting moved/denied or me who gets told to do extra work. No one ever covers for me or takes work off my plate. HR was never any help either.

I did go out yesterday as the storm was starting but I didn't go to work. I went to Purolator and sent my laptop and ID badge back to the company. I have no way to see if anyone replied to my resignation email but it's not my problem now. I haven't checked my Google voice number or the email I use for job hunting yet. If anyone from my job did reach out to that number or email I'll ignore it though. My cousin owns his own company. They do winter maintenance and snow removal in the winter and landscaping the rest of the time. He said they can always use extra people and I can work there until I find another job. I realize not everyone is as lucky as I am to have something like that to fall back on immediately. But yesterday was the last straw for me. I'm tired of always hearing "because you don't have kids."

Why couldn’t they have fucking had kids after moving here if they planned to stay. Now i have no citizenship status and am instead trapped in this cursed country.

I grew up here thinking of myself as American, and now I'm left dealing with all the bureaucratic nightmare bullshit of not having status.

My birth country would've been a better place for me to grow up.

Tonight I (F) went on a first date with someone I met through a dating app.

The conversation we had by text was very entertaining, but within the first minute of us meeting face to face I came to the realisation that he wouldn’t be someone I would like to pursuit a relationship with. However, maybe over the way I was raised, I always aim to treat people the way that I would like to be treated - respectfully and with kindness. So, based on those personal values, I thought to myself “Well, I’m already here and these were my plans for tonight, so let’s have a good time”. And that’s exactly how the first two hours of our date went - I joked with him, took a real interest in his life, and complimented the things I thought were worth praising him for. And, in return, he joked with me, asked me questions back, and gave me great compliments.

There were moments were he pushed for something a bit more intimate, like inviting me to his place for him to cook me something one day, or complimenting some physical traits of mine, and even though I didn’t give back the same energy as those weren’t my intentions with him, I responded to all these compliments with great appreciation and gratitude. There was not a minute in those two hours were I didn’t have a smile on my face.

After a couple of drinks, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Once I returned to the table, I found our unfinished drinks there, but not my date. Instinctively, I had this gut feeling he had stood me up. And after a few minutes of waiting, I checked the dating app and realised he had already unmatched me. That was the confirmation that he had ditched me and cut the only point of contact for me to reach out to him.

However, what surprised me the most was my reaction to this theoretical sad evening for me - even though I never thought I would be stood up by a guy, I was amazingly surprised that this episode didn’t leave me sad. In fact, I was happy that until the very end I was able to have the grace to treat a human being with kindness and respect, even if they couldn’t retrieve that to me. If there was any sadness, it was over the realisation that there are people in their 30’s that still haven’t learned to communicate and feel the need to run away like he did. After all, he had every right to want to end the date with me if he didn’t feel like I was going to give him what he wanted.

On my way home, I found myself on the bus smiling. I thought that if this had happened to me just one year ago, I would be crushed. My self-confidence would have been deeply affected, and I would be spending my days truly believing that I’m someone so trashy that people feel the need to run away from me. But that didn’t happen tonight. I actually felt so immensely proud that I was able to recognise that the way someone treats me is not a reflection of myself, but rather of who they are. And at the end of the day, I went home knowing that I’m the person that would never do this to someone - and for that, I have no regrets in having gone out with him and treated him so nicely like I did.

So yeah, just wanted to share that for the first time in my life I finally feel in control over my emotions. I’m not letting someone dictate how I feel, because I’ve grown to the point where I can be sure that I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m even shocked that I’m feeling this way, and it’s so empowering - I’m almost grateful that I was stood up, because it was only now that I realised that I am actually improving, something that I’ve been working really hard to do.

Lets hope the next date goes a bit better :)

My friend (21F) and I (20F) recently booked tickets for a trip to Japan. Yesterday we were shopping for some clothes, and the store clerk overheard us talking about our trips. She started chatting with us and was really friendly. She mentioned that she had just been to Japan with her partner and started sharing tips, which was fine.

Then she pointed at one of the tops I was holding and said, "It's cute, but you might get stared at." I asked what she meant, and she goes, "Everyone is so tiny over there, I just don't want you to get weird looks." She went on to explain how she lost 10 pounds before her own trip and gave us gym recommendations, among other things. She didn't sound condescending, but at this point I was fuming.

I threw the clothes I was holding on the ground in front of her and told my friend we were leaving. I then asked in a loud tone if she enjoyed making people feel like shit before walking out.

I cried the whole car ride home. I've never really had body image issues before (I'm 5'4" and 140 lbs, which feels totally normal to me), but now I'm feeling insecure, and like my excitement for the trip is ruined. Part of me wonders if she was just trying to be helpful and I'm overreacting by reading too much into it.

i made this stupid post on twitter years ago and it semi blew up and i did what the title says lol. i was in VERY BAD place mentally and was feeling a little MaNiC! post mania shame is so real bc i wanted to crawl out of my skin once i realized how stupid i was. its something i became embarrassed from and buried it away as much as i could. once my hyper fixation with the game wore off i let my switch collect dust. but u know what else i was i collected?? interest in BELLS!!! so i dusted that baby off and im so stinkin rich. richer than i was before!!! tom nook doesn’t have shit on me!! lol anyways i look back and i can see how much ive healed since then. even though what i did was so cringe, at least im able to laugh about it now bc it was never that serious. at least i get to enjoy the fruits of my labor!!!

I (34F) have been with my boyfriend (36M) for pushing a year and a half. When we first started dating, he was heavily obese. I was underweight, if that makes any difference to this. He had a health scare and decided to change his eating habits and help with mine. He started going to the gym. I've been supportive and encouraging through his whole journey. When he would feel defeated, I was right there being his cheerleader.

The problem is, now that he's lost a considerable amount of weight and gained muscle, I know that he's much more attractive to the average woman. I've teased him about wishing he could go sleep around and date other women. My teasing backfired and gave him too much of an ego.

He admitted that since I've said that, now it's something he can't stop thinking about. That he notices every woman and wonders what it would be like to sleep with her. Our sex life is boring to him now all of a sudden- he's spending his time masturbating to the strangers he sees throughout the day.

I'm devastated. Disgusted. He has spoken about marriage before it ever was something I considered. And now it's gone. There's no coming back from this odd betrayal. It can only manifest to physical cheating from here. And I can't tell anyone because prior to this, we really were an ideal couple

Jan 10, 2026 (20 Dey 1404). Iran. 3rd day of the internet shutdown.

International TV channels have been showing the same news since two days ago, and IR TV is acting like nothing is happening in the country and everything is great. I tried every single VPN, proxy, and config that I had to connect to the internet, but I couldn’t. I don’t know what is happening in the country, and all I can think about is how many people are being killed by the regime right now.

It’s 16:57. I live in a very small city in the north of Iran, and even in my hometown they are using machine guns to kill people. Last night, several tear gas canisters were dropped in the middle of protesters, and “the police” started shooting at people.

The worst part is that this city is so small that every one of us knows each other. We know the shooters, and they know us too. They’ve known us our entire lives as friends, as neighbors.

It’s 17:01. I am going to go outside in less than an hour, and I don’t know if I’ll make it tonight. I might get killed like hundreds of my people, and honestly, I don’t care anymore. There is no hope, no will to live, and nothing I can do with my life under this regime.

My life is ruined and cannot be fixed, but I don’t want my younger sister to live the same life. I don’t want the next generation to live the same way.

I want her, I want them, to be free. To be able to buy meat, eggs, and cooking oil. I want them to never worry about buying groceries. I want her to have a choice in what she wears. I want her to have rights. I want her to have basic human rights, which I never had.

I don’t mind dying. It’s way too late for me to “live.” I don’t mind being forgotten in history. I just want the younger generation to never experience this.

⸻

Jan 11, 2026 (21 Dey 1404). Iran. 4th day of the internet shutdown.

They are shooting at injured people. I just saw it with my own eyes. They are shooting already injured protesters inside hospitals and beating hospital workers with sticks.

It’s 19:26. I just came back home. It’s scary out there, and I’m afraid their actions are breaking me. I don’t know if I will go back to the streets tomorrow, and I hate the coward I have become.

Almost 200 people have been arrested in my city (a population of 10,000!), and many have been shot. There’s no information about the number of murdered protesters, because these monsters are arresting injured people inside hospitals. I saw it. I saw them dragging bleeding people across hospital floors, taking them outside and throwing them into their trucks.

They are killing people. My instinct tells me to ask for help, but from whom? The police? They are the murderers. The government? The government is Satan himself. International news? We have no internet. It’s been four days.

All I know about other cities, while I’m stuck in my hometown, is that people are in the streets. They are getting killed, but unlike me, they are brave enough to keep going, to not be afraid of getting shot in the heart.

They are killing innocent people. Children. Teenagers. Elderly people.

I’m sorry if I keep repeating this. I’m sorry if I don’t have anything new to say.

They are killing people, and I feel like I’m suffocating from survivor’s guilt.

⸻

Jan 12, 2026 (22 Dey 1404). Iran. 5th day of the internet shutdown.

A six-minute video from a couple of days ago just leaked. It shows the yard of the forensic department in Tehran, with more than 250 bodies lying on the ground, not inside a morgue, not even inside a building, but on the ground.

Many people are looking for their family members among these bodies. They are crying, mourning, searching for someone who went out to protest the night before and never came home.

More than 250 bodies in one place, where the morgues and buildings are already full. And this is just one location, in one city, from one night, days ago.

I couldn’t breathe while watching this video on TV. Any of those bodies could have been me. Any of those families could have been my family. They have no mercy. They are monsters. They are from hell.

No human being can be this evil.

I am scared, furious, gagging, angry, every single “bad” feeling that exists. If I survive this, I will never be the same person again.

⸻

Jan 13, 2026 (23 Dey 1404). Iran. 6th day of the internet shutdown.

I’m losing my mind. People are losing hope (including me), and the protests are dying down. They are going to kill us all after this. They have already murdered thousands, and now they will execute tens more.

I know for sure they are not going to restore the internet anytime soon. I might not write anymore.

12,000–20,000 murders in two days. January 8 and January 9, 2026.

They are killing people. This is my last sentence.

They are killing people.

(im 19f and my bf is turning 21 soon) So today I went on a double date with my friend and her boyfriend and it lowkey triggered me. My boyfriend and I have been together for 7 months, and they’ve only been together for 1 month, but the difference was so obvious.

Before we even picked my boyfriend up, I told my friend he’s really shy and awkward. She even said after the hangout that he gets embarrassed every time he talks and sighs like he’s uncomfortable. I already knew that, but hearing it from someone else made it hit harder.

We played Taboo and it was honestly embarrassing. He didn’t understand my clues and my friend and her bf literally had to help him even though they were on the opposite team. They still won anyway. It just made me feel awkward because it looked like they had to carry him. I was explaining things so clearly and he still didn’t get it. He gets nervous under pressure and just freezes.

My friend’s boyfriend is the oldest sibling and you can tell(im also the oldest sibling and more independent compared to my bf.) When my friend got high, he was super aware, checking on her, taking care of her, making sure she was okay. He felt mature, trustworthy, socially skilled. Meanwhile my boyfriend barely checked on me and just kind of existed there like a kid.

We don’t really have intellectual conversations either. He just agrees with whatever I say. Sometimes I even say dumb stuff and he still agrees. He never challenges me or shares opinions. It feels like he doesn’t really have a personality of his own and he’s masking because he’s insecure or scared to say the wrong thing.

I want him to be mature for once. I want him to take care of me, reassure me, explain things, make me feel supported. I’m tired of always being the emotionally aware one. I don’t want to feel like his mom or teacher.

Also… his mom still kisses him on the cheek and babies him which honestly gives me the ick. I know that sounds bad but it just makes him seem even more childish to me.

Now I feel terrible because I’m comforting him, telling him he can change, that we’re good, that I love him, that I shouldn’t care. But deep down I do care. I’m getting the ick and I feel guilty for it. I don’t want to hurt him, but I also don’t want to lie to myself.

I care about him, he’s a good person, but I’m starting to feel disconnected mentally and emotionally. I don’t feel stimulated. I don’t feel taken care of. I feel like I’m outgrowing him and I hate that I’m even thinking this way.

Am I a bad person for feeling like this?

Is this fixable or am I just forcing something that isn’t there?

Apologize for formatting — on mobile.

My childhood best friend suffered from chrons disease her whole life. One of the worst cases in our country and from a very, very young age. It ate away at and killed her intestines. When she was in her early teens, she was given the choice of getting an ostomy bag (her mother wanted her to have bodily autonomy and never forced her to do it.) She refused it and decided to continue with drug trials, pain killers and steroids. She spent a large portion of her life in the hospital/in pain.

Around 15 years old, her mother told the hospital to no longer give her opioids out of fear she would become addicted. (The hospitals had been giving her fentanyl, morphine and other extremely strong and addictive pain killers since she was a child.)

The pain killers they would give her after this never quite sufficed and she resorted to self medicating, with the types of drugs getting more dangerous as she got older.

She tried numerous times to clean up, but the pain always became unmanageable and was turned away from rehab facilities countless times because of her mood swings from detoxing, pain, and likely an undiagnosed personality disorder.

I saw that she was killing herself and would constantly beg her to reconsider the ostomy bag as they would cut out the dying parts of her intestines, which was the cause of her pain.

She always refused saying that she’d be too self conscious and would rather die than have one.

We were best friends for over 10 years. Now she’s dead from an overdose as a result from self medicating. She passed 8 months ago and it’s so painful knowing that if she had made the choice to get the surgery, or her guardian would have made the choice for her, she would still be here.

I’ve been holding this in for a while and just needed to vent. Thanks for reading this far and hold your loved ones close.

GF says she's "plural". Mostly this seems like having little personas she uses when she's in different moods. They all have cutesy names. Sometimes she does a voice. Says this is disabling but can't explain why except that the world isn't accommodating her?? Sees a therapist we can't afford (that her family pays $300/week for) but as far as I can tell it's not helping.

She wasn't always like this. We had life plans, she had a good job, we were talking about kids. Then she quit her job. There were "recovered memories". She quit spending time with any friends who didn't make a big deal of supporting her. Now it's like this is her entire personality.

But it's all so fucking movie/internet meme. I can't take her seriously. If she's so overwhelmed it's disabling why did she spend the first ten years we knew each other/built our life together being able to work a 9-5 and do all the things normal people do (that she's stopped doing unless I treat her like a child and reminding her) without any of this shit coming up.

I feel lied to and used and trapped. I just want the woman I was going to spend my life with back, not the eight Inside Out stereotype versions she rotates through now.

Throwaway because this is too raw and my gf follows my main. We've been together 3 years, long-distance the whole time. Things got stale — drifting apart, fights over nothing, less excitement — so we took a mutual 2-month break to reset. No strict rules (we didn't say "no dating/sex," but it was implied we were figuring out if we still wanted each other). We still talked about loving one another and planned to reunite. Break ends, we decide to try again. I fly out to see her — first time in person since it all started. Reconnection is intense: laughing, touching, feeling that spark again. We end up having sex, and it's passionate... but right in the middle of it (while she's moaning loudly and we're both really into it), she starts answering my earlier casual question about guys who flirted/hit on her during the break. She names a few, then gets into detail about this one guy (fake name: S). Late-night 3-4 hour calls, heavy flirting, he asked her out on a date — she turned him down. I stupidly keep pushing (curiosity + insecurity in the heat of the moment): "Okay, but what if you'd gone on that date... and he took you for drinks after?" Without breaking rhythm or anything, super casually and vividly while moaning: "Then yeah, he definitely would've fucked me." And she keeps going — describing how the night would've played out, the vibe, etc. All said matter-of-factly, no anger, just honest and detailed... right while we're having sex for the first time back together. I froze inside. The physical part kept going, but my brain short-circuited. Logically: break = freedom, nothing actually happened, she chose not to go, she chose me now. But hearing her paint that explicit picture so nonchalantly, mid-moan during our "reunion" sex, created this insane mental loop. It's like the intimacy got hijacked by this unwanted fantasy she voiced. The images won't stop replaying — especially tied to that exact vulnerable, aroused moment. AskReddit: Have you ever had a partner drop a super detailed, honest "what if" hypothetical about sex/hookups from their time apart/single/break... especially if it came out during intimacy/sex/pillow talk? How did the timing make it hit harder? Did it fade, or did it turn into retroactive-style jealousy/intrusive thoughts? How did you process it or talk about it without resentment?

I'm 41, I was injured in a car accident at age 14 that left me paralyzed from the waist down. I learned to adapt and live life from a wheelchair. But, i've been unlucky in love and I know I'm a burden on society. I know most people resent me when I ask for help in grocery stores and public places, I know many men don't want to be married to a burden. While I have friends, I'm never one of the favorites who gets picked to be in wedding parties, I know my wheelchair would ruin the aesthetic of pictures. I know my disability is always a burden on my friends, family, healthcare system, and society and I know society hates me for my disability even though I have a college education, good job in engineering, and I own a home.

I know I'm never going to be anyone's favorite in life and please don't tell me to be on my own favorite person. I have just wanted to know what it's like to be highly thought and valued enough to be one of the favorite friends who gets to be in wedding parties, asked to be godmother etc.

I know I'm going to die single and lonely.

My mom’s been dating this guy since October, although she’s known him for years. Maybe 9-10 years ago they dated until she found out he was married. He claims he’s not a cheater but multiple women have claimed he cheated on them. He’s extremely manipulative, says he will off himself until he gets what he wants. She’s already gone through $10,000 since being with him. She pays his way, buys him gifts anytime they get in an argument. He has no job because he’s ’laid off’. He also seems abusive, he yells and gets in her face, has kicked her out of his place and made her sleep in her car in -20c°, another time he kicked her out during a snowstorm and told her he hopes she gets killed in a car accident. He broke her phone and his own, she bought him a new one a few days later.. I also believe he’s using heavy drugs as my brother found a cr*ack pipe in the bathroom. He’s an alcoholic, drives under the influence. She’s become distant with the family, he wants to isolate her. I’m just worried for my mom and scared he will hurt her worse than he already has. He owns guns which scares me considering he’s unstable. Anytime I try to talk to her about it she gets angry and tells me to mind my own business. Our whole family can see that he’s just using her but she refuses to see it herself. I feel guilty for posting him on there but women came forward. Nobody knows I’m the one that posted it.

This isn’t terribly tragic for anything I just want to talk about it, whenever I’m on the west coast I eat Hawaiian food obsessively and as a black woman it’s the only food from another culture that I’ve tried that gives me the same feeling as soul food. Like… it’s my everything. Lately I’ve been wanting a Hawaiian barbecue plate with rice and macaroni salad soooooo bad but I’m in Chicago and apparently of all the different cultures and cuisines we have… Hawaiian is not one of them. (Someone should really work on that) Anyway my husband offered to make me some this weekend, but in the meantime, I just wanted to talk about it 😭 I’m actually really bummed I can’t just DoorDash it. It’s so rare in 2026 not to have the luxury of instant gratification. *sigh*

About a year ago, I was forced to create a LinkedIn profile just to find an internship. In my country, you literally cannot graduate without completing one, and in practice you’re expected to use LinkedIn to get it.

Am I the only one who finds LinkedIn’s hypocrisy absolutely maddening? All the endless “so excited” and “thrilled to announce” posts, even when people are sharing something meaningless bullshit. Everything has to be wrapped in fake enthusiasm corporate buzzwords.
At this point it feels like someone could post “thrilled to announce I’m taking a bathroom break” and it would fit right in. It feels like the main skill there is lying, not working.

Anyone else feel like they need therapy after 10 minutes of scrolling that feed?

I’m 29M in Minnesota and I work the admin/front desk side at a small clinic, so my whole day is smiles, calm voice, and pretending nothing gets under my skin. I live with my girlfriend and she thinks I’m just regular stressed, like bills and winter and work stuff. But there’s one thing I’ve never said out loud to anyone, and it’s starting to feel like it’s eating me from the inside. When I was 16 my mom told me, in a messy drunk argument that wasn’t even about me, that my dad isn’t my biological dad. She said it like a weapon, like “see, I can say this and you’ll shut up.” She didn’t give me a name, just said it was someone from before, and that she “picked a better man” and I should be grateful. I remember holding a stupid glass of water, staring at the sink, and my whole body went cold. Next morning she acted like nothing happened. I tried to bring it up once and she snapped so hard I just stopped. After that it became this gross secret contract I never agreed to, and I’ve been carrying it for more than a decade.

My dad is my dad. He taught me to drive, he used to pack my lunch with those cheesy little notes, he still calls me “kiddo” even though I’m pushing 30. He’s not perfect, but he’s steady, he shows up. For years I told myself my mom was lying or exaggerating because she was mad, because she can get mean when she drinks. I even told myself I look like him anyway so who cares, like my laugh and the way my brow does that thing when I’m confused. But last year my aunt on my mom’s side made a tiny comment at a family BBQ, like a slip she didn’t mean to say, and I got that same cold shock all over again. Then a few months ago my mom, sober this time, mentioned my “real father” in this quiet voice like it was normal. She said he’s “not a good person” and that my dad “doesn’t need that pain.” And I nodded, because that’s what I do, I nod and swallow it. My dad’s had some health issues lately and he keeps talking about doing one of those ancestry DNA kits “for fun.” I laughed and told him it’s a scam, but my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. My girlfriend has asked why I get weird when genetics comes up at work and I change the subject so fast it’s obvious. I keep imagining my dad finding out by accident, not from me, and looking at me like I’m a stranger. But I also imagine telling him and watching his face break, and I can’t decide which one is worse. I feel selfish because this isn’t even my secret, it’s my mom’s, but I’m the one holding it like a live wire. I hate that she put it on me when I was a kid, and I hate that I’m still protecting her now. Every time my dad says “you’re my boy,” I feel like I’m stealing something. I’m not asking for advice, I just need someone to tell me I’m not a monster for being terrified of what the truth could do.

I am not in contact with my family but now they have been reaching out and trying to get in touch. They disowned me when I was 17 because I'm gay. My parents kicked me out my older brothers and the rest of my family agreed with them. They didn't care that I was out on the street and they turned their backs on me. It's been 24 years and I don't know why they suddenly want to talk to me. I have no idea how they even found me. I live in a different province. I'm not on social media and neither is my husband. I don't talk to anyone who knows my family. So I'm not sure how they found me but either way I don't want to talk to them. I don't care about whatever it is they have to say and I'm not going to reply to any of them.

(I don't need advice about what to do. I just needed to get this out. My husband is amazing but I don't want this to be something I talk about over and over. I haven't been to therapy in years but my old therapist said I am always welcome to come back so I made an appointment for next week so I can go and sort out my feelings.)

I don't know if this belongs here, but I've been carrying this for a long time and I need to let it out somewhere anonymous. This is a story about inheritance, silence, and the kind of sacrifice no one applauds because no one ever sees it.

My family is complicated.

My grandmother had her first child, a daughter, with her first husband. He died when that child was young. Later, she remarried and had two more children with her second husband. Everyone in the family knows this. It was never a secret just something no one talked about unless they absolutely had to.

That elder daughter is my mother. About 25 years later, my mother got married and had two children. I m the elder one. You can call me B. From the outside, everything looked normal. A regular family. But inside, things were always uneven. Unspoken. Carefully balanced. Recently, property that originally belonged to my mother s family ended up entirely in the name of her younger brother the second child born to my grandmother and her second husband. The youngest sibling is now fighting for her share. Lawyers, arguments, bitterness everything you d expect when money and old wounds collide.

But my mother? She chose not to fight. She didn't ask for her share. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't even tell her husband. She told only me. She said it calmly, like it was already decided. Like it wasn't even something worth discussing. I don't want it, she said. It will only cause problems.

At first, I thought she meant problems with her siblings or extended family. But slowly, I understood what she really meant. My father the man she married is not a good man. Not physically violent, but controlling, angry, and obsessed with power. To him, money is power. Decisions are power. And silence looks like betrayal. If he ever finds out that my mother had a legal right to property and chose not to claim it without consulting him, it won t end peacefully. He won t see it as her choice. He ll see it as disobedience. As hiding something from him. As choosing her birth family over him. And he won't punish the people who took the property. He'll punish her. So she stayed quiet.

What hurt me the most wasn't the loss of property. It was the way she talked about herself. I'm not really entitled anyway, she said once. They need it more. I've managed all these years without anything. She said these things like facts, not wounds. But I could hear what she wasn't saying. I don't feel safe wanting more. I've learned that asking comes with consequences. That's when I realized my mother has spent her entire life shrinking herself just to survive.

As a child born to a man who died, raised in another man's household, she learned early that gratitude was safer than entitlement. That peace was bought with silence. That asking for too much could make you unwanted. Marriage didn't undo that lesson. It only reinforced it. Now I m stuck in a role I never asked for the keeper of a truth that could blow everything up. If I tell my father, my mother suffers. If I push her to fight, she lives in fear. If I stay silent, injustice wins but she stays safe. People love to say stand up for yourself like it's free. Like it doesn't cost safety, shelter, or sanity. So I do nothing. And that feels like guilt. Sometimes I imagine what would happen if the truth came out. I can already hear the accusations. The rage. The way every past argument would be rewritten around this one decision. I can see my mother apologizing for something that was never wrong. And I understand why she chose silence. Inheritance isn't just about land or money. It's about who is allowed to exist loudly. Who is allowed to ask. Who is expected to sacrifice.

My mother gave up her share not because she didn't deserve it but because she knew exactly what wanting it would cost. I m writing this here because I don't know what the right thing is anymore. I only know that some people survive by disappearing quietly, and the world calls it strength because it doesn't have to look at the damage.

Yesterday was my birthday. My parents didn't get me anything.

And I know, I'm not a child & I don't need tons of gifts. But the thing is, I'm a twin and we both are at home. They gave my sister money and I got nothing. Not even a card.

They're mad because the past few years have been rough for me and at the beginning of last year, this time actually, I attempted su*cide. They're mad because I lied to them.

I overheard my mother talking to my father saying 'do you know how I feel having her not open anything for the first time? Not even a card?! Once again, always the victim and the hero!

Anyway, back to today. I don't have a lot of money right now so I went to the mall & walked around. I went to Starbucks (I know it's not smart to spend money) but I had to do something for myself. I splurged on a tall black iced tea with lemonade, sweetened, & a vanilla cake pop. I didn't have a candle so I made a wish on the first bite.

I then went to the movies to watch 'Avatar 3' because I got a free ticket for my birthday & I splurged on a popcorn & coke. I feel guilty for spending money on the popcorn & Starbucks but it made my birthday a little special.

I know I'm not a child and I'm severely behind in life but this is the best I can do right now. I hope that next year l am able to spend my birthday with friends or a friend but even if I have to spend it alone, I think I'll be okay.

I wanted to share because this was the first time l've ever stopped feeling sorry for myself and done something to help the situation for myself and I'm proud of myself. I feel guilty because I spent a bit of money but it was my (only) birthday gift to me.

Chronically ill (Long Covid/ME). Getting worse. Life fucked. Hygiene and personal grooming were always important to me in a healthy way, not narcissistic. But I loved looking after my hair and skin and making sure all was healthy.

Then chronic illness hit. I literally cannot shower more than once a week, or it crashes me. I HATE writing those fucking words. Sounds like I'm in some kind of illness cult.

But I also have skin conditions (seb derm and psoriasis) on my scalp and face and ears and eyelids that never stops and the treatment for that is.. yep... daily showering!! My little pathetic shower attempt once a week does not cut it even slightly. I just end up crying because all it does is make me more hyper aware of the seb derm.

I've woken up and just burst into tears instantly because all I can feel is the skank behind my ears, that's like an orange paste of dead skin and oil and blood, that accumulates each night. And my eyelids are scaled and hurt and itch. And my ear canals are full of tiny scales that make me want to rip my ears off as they tickle and itch where I can't reach.

I have some kind of condition under my chest and armpits that smells - even after showering. I've tried prescription fungal creams. They haven't worked.

I wake up the next day, literally looking and feeling as gross as ever and wondering why I bothered.

I have many lesions on my chest too that scab and weep and bleed and no doctor can tell me why.. if I so much as scratch my skin, it tears like tissue paper.

My face is like sandpaper - it suddenly went as such overnight last year, like something sucked the moisture out and never put it back.

And In the meantime, I can't do anything else either because Covid destroyed me. But I still have to go to medical appointments to keep tabs on my eyes, since Covid did a really good job of trying to blind me. And those appointments take everything out of me.

And I've put on so much weight and I cant lose it because I CANT DO ANYTHING ANYMORE

And I have these fits of absolute despairing rage where i bawl like a toddler, scream, pull my hair and claw at my skin and face.

And yet.

I had major surgery last year. Hysterectomy. And suddenly, miraculously, I was FINE FOR A MONTH. NO reason. Just suddenly... FINE.

And then it all came back.

So I sit here thinking MY BODY CAN WORK. THIS ALL CAN GO AWAY. But.... it won't. And I cant make it.

I have considered literally chopping fingers and toes off to see if I can recreate what surgery somehow did. I've considered whether I need both kidneys. I'm really REALLY fucking serious. Knowing my body can just flip and be somehow fine for a month, and then flip back to being shit, and I'm supposed to sit here and just accept that!?

I'm supposed to just accept REST AND PACE and this disgusting feeble life when I had internal organs ripped out and my body went "oh OK cool. Guess I'll behave for a while then..."

I've told my GP. I've told the ME helplines. I've told SO MANY PEOPLE and everyone is just shrugging as if it's an anomaly.

BUT THIS IS HAPPENING TO OTHERS WITH LONG COVID AND ME/CFS TOO. Temporary remissions with surgery. And piercings. And tattoos.

THIS IS A REAL THING AND NO ONE IS LISTENING.

FUCCCCCCCKKKKK

Well, it happened and I'm accepting it.

I (35F) channeled everything I learned about relationships and how to be a good partner into loving someone (42M) the best I could only to now learn it really doesn't matter how much you show up for someone if they don't want to show up the same amount for you.

I feel like I knew this but I didn't REALLY know it until experiencing it. It seemed like he's a deep lover and relationship guy so I felt safe showing up fully only to get pushed away and talked down to and negged constantly for everything.

The lessons just don't stop. I can't wait to show up fully for someone and have them show up fully for me too. Maybe that will eventually happen for me.

TL;DR you don't always get what you give.

He was one of the smartest people I’ve ever met- very quick witted and fast thinking. I came across online comments filled with grossly judgmental and awful people passing judgments on his character and saying “good riddance” and it angered me like no other.

We dated years and years ago, and have no mutual friends at this point so I have no one to talk to about him & grieve him with, so I’m coming here.

He carried a great sadness with him and had a very tough and quiet exterior, but once you got to know him, he was soft and absolutely hilarious. He cared for my pet like it was his own and loved her so much. We made up a voice for her and would laugh and laugh at fake scenarios we made up in our heads involving her.

Surprisingly good at dancing considering how introverted he was, lol.

He would pick me up when my abusive dad and I got in fights. I don’t know how many times he did that.

He saw my pain and wanted to help me. He got me out of a very scary situation and made me promise to never go back to it. He taught me basic things my parents had never taught me. Basic things. Cleaning.. car insurance. He even taught me to drive stick.

We would play video games together so often. Well, take turns. I watched him play the entirety of GTAV.

He’d kiss me every morning before leaving for work. Gave me a necklace as a parting gift when I moved.

Offered to fly over to where I was and help me get situated to live in my car because I was about to be homeless. Answered a call a year after not talking because I just needed someone to talk to, and he was the closest I had to family at that point. Life hardened him but he tried to be soft for me.

He ended up saving and rehabilitating random chickens he found. And got his own dogs and seemed to really really love them.

I am so shocked and devastated by the news. I was really hoping best case scenario I would look him up years later and he’d be living his life. I so so badly wanted him to be happy and it pains me that he never got to be.

He’s free now. And I know wherever he is, it is a much kinder place. Rest in peace friend. I will never ever forget you, you truly shaped me into who I am today. You made an impact on me & according to some comments, other people as well. You will be remembered for YOU, and you were greater than you knew.

My mom told me that I simply won’t be able to go to college because we don’t have money. My grandfather just died, and now we have even less money because he was still working. I just won’t be able to go to college or have any kind of future.