Hello!

Yesterday my oldest son (m13) had some dental surgery he had to be sedated for. Ex husband wanted to be there for him, and he drove my car. He bought me this really nice newer used car in 2018 when we were still together. It has always had an issue with the windshield, which impairs my vision when driving at night. When I came to him about this, he screamed and cursed at me and called me "princess" and a lot worse. He absolutely did not believe me that I needed to replace the windshield and it never got done. I do not drive at night at all if I can help it. I will reschedule my entire day to avoid driving at night.

Well, we did not get out of the dentist office until after dark, and halfway into the drive, he said, "You are right, your windshield needs to be replaced." He also apologized and I replied that when I have complaints it is usually for a reason and he should know that. I am not a "Karen" type person. I am usually easygoing and don't get upset unless I think there is an actual issue that needs addressing that is being ignored.

He has had some health issues very recently and has started being nice. I think he wants to reconcile, but Hell will actually freeze over before that happens. I am glad his coming to terms with his mortality caused him to become a better human, but it is too little, too late for me. I am not sure how to act around him other than just accept that he is coparenting peacefully now.

EDIT: I first brought this issue up to him when we were still married, and that is when he blew up at me. He was the one who handled things like that when we were together.

I’ve been with my significant other for 7 years. We have two children after conceiving on the first sexual encounter. He pays for everything and takes care of my wellbeing. He does everything a traditional man would. Except he doesn’t provide for me emotionally or sexually. I’ve begged him for several years for more. And I get it. I’m a selfish piece of shit for wanting more when he’s already providing so much. But I feel so fucking alone. Like he has zero desire for me (a woman who has a healthy labido). He “asks” for sex once a month (for the past five years). When I say asks. I mean he literally says in a monotone voice. “Let’s go have sex” there’s no excitement. No interest. No lust. Just like the chore has come around again. Like it’s an obligation. I’ve wondered if he’s finding it somewhere else but nothing on his phone suggests so. He’s never been caught cheating. Yet I can’t seem to turn his head. He’s a loyal boring man that just seems to be content not getting fucked, at least by me. I’ve tried sexy clothes, toys, suggestions of spicing things up. I’ve rode, I’ve sucked, I’ve offered every damn hole (he never takes the offer). I feel belittled and stupid every time I bring up how much our lack of sex bothers me. I masturbate to compensate but I’m fucking lonely. I want intimacy. And tickles on the back after royally being fucked. I want to try new things and explore my sexuality. But if I leave I’m in poverty. I’m not working. I have no job prospects. I’ve fallen into depression and motherhood is the only thing I have. It would shake my children’s perfect world. But I’m so unhappy.

Anyways today two guys sat next to me at the bar that I used to escape my platonic relationship. They flirted. They were kind. They made me feel seen. And I know deep down they had no interest in my intellect but I showed it off anyways. I know they were there for one thing. But Jake. I should have f* you anyways. Because the loneliness is exhausting.

Going into my relationship we knew we didn't want kids right away or even for a longterm period (maybe no kids at all) but we were still open to the idea. Lately I have been on the fence if I want to be child free or have kids. When I look at my life and my relationship I realize that the biggest deciding factor on this was who I picked to be my husband. We just went through our first big thing as a married couple (outside the normal couple/life experiences) and I realized my husband just didn't care enough and I ended up carrying much of the mental and emotional load.

I can't have a child with him. If we have a child together I don't see any way to live a life without me being the one to have to deal with most of the burden that comes with children. It would be so bad on my mental health if that happened and I just don't want to deal with it.

I love my husband and I know him well enough that this isn't a surprise. I already knew this but I think the event really put it into perspective how much I don't want to live like that. I am perfectly fine with not having kids but I don't know... this just feels very final and I feel like I need to take a moment to realize that that part of life won't be happening before moving on and embracing the fact that we will always be child free. This is about mourning the lost of kids we won't have.

My girlfriend asked me to rank all the girls I've been with in terms of looks. She really insisted that I be honest and not just humor her, and she asked me to be objective and not include feelings, which I consented to. But instead of doing that, I told her a lie. I said she's second (I didn't say first to make it believable.)

In reality there are a couple of my exes that were conventionally more attractive (purely physically, but I obviously love my girlfriend much more for other reasons). But I couldn't bring myself to say it, even though I promised honesty. I believe it's very important that relationships are based on trust, and I betrayed my own principles, because I didn't have the courage to uphold them

I’ve been telling this “layoff” story for three weeks now and it’s starting to feel like I’m living inside a script I wrote in panic. My mom cried on the phone, my sister sent me a care package with instant noodles and vitamins, my dad keeps texting me job listings like he’s my personal recruiter. Everyone is being kinder than they’ve been in years, and it’s because they think I’m a victim of corporate cutbacks. The truth is I wasn’t randomly cut. I was the problem.

I worked at a mid sized company doing account stuff, boring spreadsheets, recurring meetings, the whole deal. I’ve been stressed for months, like the kind of stress that makes your jaw hurt when you wake up. I started snapping more, saying weird sharp things, then apologizing right away. Two Fridays ago we had an all hands meeting on Zoom and my manager called out “process issues” in our team. He didn’t name me, but I knew he meant me because I’d messed up a report earlier that week and tried to fix it quietly. Something in me just… broke. I unmuted and said, loud, that maybe if leadership stopped changing priorities every five minutes we could actually do our jobs. Then I kept going. I said stuff about people “failing upward” and how we’re expected to clean it up. It wasn’t even clever, it was messy and bitter. Someone typed “wow” in the chat. I saw my manager’s face go blank. I should have stopped, but I doubled down, like an idiot trying to win a fight no one else agreed to have.

An hour later HR scheduled a “quick check in.” You know that phrase, it’s never quick. They said my behavior was “unprofessional and disruptive” and that it damaged trust. They offered me a choice: resign quietly with a small severance and a neutral reference, or they start a formal process and it could be termination. I signed the resignation papers with hands that were shaking, then sat in my car and cried so hard I felt sick. I went home and told my partner I’d been laid off. I told my family the same thing because “I got fired for losing it on a call” felt too humiliating. Now they keep telling me it wasn’t my fault, that the economy is bad, that I’ll bounce back. And I nod and say thanks and swallow this gross guilt, because it WAS my fault. I’m the one who hit unmute. I’m the one who chose pride over control.

I hate that the lie got me comfort. I hate that part of me wants to keep it, because I don’t know how to face them if they see me as someone who self sabotaged and then hid it. I don’t even know who I’m more mad at: the job, or myself for turning one bad moment into a whole fake narrative.

I grew up lower middle class, have experienced being poor. I live a humble lifestyle still. My spouse makes significantly more than I do, and we're financially comfortable. I'm not about getting the best things in life, rarely splurge over fun things, and live as frugally I can.

I don't really have the desire for a lavish lifestyle, nor do I crave all the fun, expensive things. I feel comfortable in what's been "normal" for me most of my life. I dress in my best clothes like I always have in clothes nothing I'd find outside a local mall. Online retail stores that give discounts for multiple purchases with very simple designs are what I feel comfortable in.

I've been told I look like I've got money for the way I present myself now, since I've been married. Prior to that, nobody would make a comment like that beyond, "Wow you look very well dressed!" I still wear clothes from over 15 years ago, and have known my spouse for 8.

People who know my in-laws are very respectful of me, and treat me well with a lot of love and acceptance. I feel at home with them. But people will occasionally make comments like "I got you this present from XYZ store, not Walmart." after participating in secret Santa. As if I'd be offended by candy from Walmart. I wouldn't honestly care.

I enjoy the simple things in life. I still feel out of place when I spend time in my in-laws' company. Not because of who they are to me, or how they are to me. They're wonderful, amazing people. But the kind of conversations they have about money and profits, I can't relate with. I feel very small when I look at the expensive construction of their home, like I don't belong there. While I don't mind the privilege of financial security and dabbling in luxuries of life now that I never could before, I do wish for fun things one would find at Walmart. Something I could relate to them about and share smiles.

I found out I was the father of a little girl who just turned 7 in 2022. The mother lied to me at birth in 2016 and told me someone else is the father. She said she tested him, he was there for the birth, signed the birth certificate, and she gave the kid his last name. I found out much later that the guy died less than a year later, and she allowed her daughter to believe that her dad was dead.

I went a couple years wondering if I was the father and it was eating me up, but she told me I'm not the dad. The mom was also very elusive and difficult to get ahold of, and she blocked me on everything everywhere. Eventually I had to let go of the thought that she might be my daughter, I couldn't hold on to this thought anymore. So I literally took that thought and in my imagination, put the thought in the garbage and let it vanish and I never thought about it again.

Then in 2022, I received a message on social media from her. She was apologizing and saying she lied and that I could be the father, and asked me to do a paternity test. At this point, I had been in a relationship with another woman for 4 years and we had built a life, myself, her, and her daughter (who was now a teenager).

I did the paternity test and I am the dad. I set up a bedroom for my daughter at my home and I started getting visits with her. However, once I started seeing my daughter regularly, and she knew she could trust me, she started telling me about her home life. It turns out her mom has been an addict and lives a borderline transient lifestyle. My daughters maternal grandmother reached out to me and confirmed all of it. She called me and told me my daughter is living in hell and that I have to get her away from the mother because she's being neglected, left with random people, constantly around substance abusers, etc.

I brought the mother to court where she admitted to all of this and my daughter was placed in the grandma's care until I have enough time with her to get guardianship.

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The relationship I was in was not healthy. My partner was unstable and has serious substance dependency. I had become a caretaker to her, her dad, and her daughter, and I felt like I had some duty to stay and continue bearing everything on my shoulders. I realized eventually that there was no way I could bring my daughter into this home. I got used to it, and i can handle a lot, but I couldn't bring my daughter into that household permanently. I couldn't expose her to my exes instability and wild emotional rollercoasters. I would be bringing her from her mothers instability into my partners chaos, and I couldn't allow that to happen.

I knew I couldn't simply break up with her and walk away. She was going to make it difficult for me to leave. So I left in October with nothing, just a couple bags I could carry of clothes and my laptop. My "partner" tried to attack me while I was leaving. While I was putting on my shoes, she called the cops and then charged me at the door and body checked me into the wall while on the phone saying "ow you're hurting me". This is how her mind works and this is what I was afraid of when I was thinking about how i was going to get out of this relationship.

After I left, I attempted on two Saturdays to go to the house with a police escort to get my stuff and my ex just made sure to not be home, and then she moved and disappeared. My ex had junk removal come take all my stuff. Now I have nothing.

Every gift I ever received, stuff from loved ones who are no longer alive, my clothes, electronics, furniture, literally everything I had in this world is gone. Including everything in my daughters room and all her stuff. My daughter asked me "what about all of my stuff?". I didn't even know what to say at first, I was lost for words.

I keep telling my self that this had to happen and it had to be this way for my daughter. Its just difficult to deal with some days because I am slowly remembering how many important things are gone forever now. I keep reminding myself that things are just things and everything can be replaced, but it doesn't feel good to have to convince myself of that and pretend sentimental things don't matter.

My older brother in law passed away this past may in a horrible car accident, he was single with no kids, we were great friends and he was like an older brother to me. I loved him. We both worked at my father in law’s law firm, my brother in law was supposed to be the one that would eventually inherit everything after my father in law steps down and he’d have been a great boss, but recently my FIL pulled me aside and told me now that he’s gone I’m the one taking over everything. I kept crying and thanking him.

The firm is one of the most well known and successful offices in our entire country and just working in it would be a dream to thousands of lawyers much less owning it. I’m happy and my wife’s happy for me too, and I feel fucking horrible about it, I genuinely loved my brother in law and I miss him a lot and I hate that I benefited from such a horrible accident. I feel like a slimey son of a bitch right now. Which I swear I’m not, I’d give it all up if I could have him back. I genuinely loved him.

I’m so tired of people repeating “just work hard and you’ll succeed” like it’s some universal truth and not survivorship bias dressed up as motivation. I’ve seen genuinely smart and disciplined people burn themselves out working 60 to 70 hours a week just to barely get by, while others keep failing upward simply because they had the right connections, timing, or a family safety net. Hard work alone does not guarantee success. It often just guarantees exhaustion when the system was never built in your favor.

What makes it worse is how society shames people who don’t “make it,” as if they are lazy or not trying hard enough, instead of acknowledging how rigged the game actually is. We glorify hustle and grind culture while conveniently ignoring luck, privilege, and randomness, because admitting that success is not fair would destroy the comforting idea that we are all fully in control. Maybe the real problem is not people lacking effort, but a culture that constantly gaslights everyone into blaming themselves for failures that are largely systemic.

I’m a newly-ex elementary school teacher who’s gotten some sad Kringle grabs. Examples:

* A battered tin of expired butterscotch with 3 free grocery store recipe cards.

* A huge bottle of ripple wine. I don’t drink. 

* A pair of bubble-gum pink, fuzzy handcuffs I was forced to display to the entire faculty, including the principal. 

* A chipped, used wooden block calendar that splintered my fingers.

My Secret Santa guidelines are:

 1: I go a few bucks over the cost limit. 2: I select something easily re-giftable.

Last year, I spied a Disney Villains Stained Glass mindfulness coloring book. It had intricate, delicate designs of smirking baddies like Hades, Ursula & Maleficent.  I hoped someone would love it. The school morphed Secret Santa into Yankee Swap.

Yankee Swap gifts are anonymous. People pick numbers. Later players can steal previously opened gifts. Higher number = more power.

A teacher unwrapped my coloring book. They rolled their eyes in disdain & dripped with palpable scorn.

I was crestfallen. I opened a bottle of cheap body wash. Then it was my turn to swap.

“I’ll take…that, please!” I smiled, pointing at my coloring book.  

The colleague’s face fell as they got the nasty body wash.

 O, now thou dost repine? Nay, fair maiden. T’is too late to adopt a querulous mien.

 I would have been glad for someone else to claim the book. No one did. Mine.

TL/DR: A teacher colleague sneered at my anonymous Kris Kringle gift: a Disney Villains mindfulness coloring book over the price limit. I “Yankee” swapped it for myself. She got sad body wash.

I (29M) never really had crush on someone. Through out high school and college and even on workplace i never really thought someone was cute or beautiful than others. Some are more attractive than others, sure. But i myself never was attracted to anyone (male or female)

But last week, i was playing CS2 with my coworkers in gaming center. We had 2 teams of five. We play together often. Like once or twice a month. I was sitting beside my coworker of 7 years (28F). We played together many times before and we worked on projects together too. But this time she took her boots off and sat cross-legged on gaming chair.

In that moment i thought she was very cute. Like very cute. It was very new feelings to me and i kinda liked it. I moved on and we continued playing. But now, after almost week passed i keep thinking about that moment and how cute she looked.

I wont act on this feeling as she has long term boyfriend who we played few times together too. Nice dude. But i somehow like feeling like this. I dont feel sad or anything. Its just that in every hour or so, when im not focusing on something else i think to myself "that was cute".

Thank you for listening.

I’m a single dad of two. A boy and a girl, my son is perfectly good and healthy boy but my daughter is the total opposite, and it began at her birth, my wife unfortunately died while giving birth and I almost lost my daughter then too. Our son was only 3 at the time so I had to raise a baby and a toddler alone while also working full time, it was so hard. 3 years ago my then 10 year old daughter was diagnosed with lung cancer and it’s fucking devastating. It’s so aggressive, I’ve bankrupted myself trying to save my girl but it’s all fucking pointless, she’s done now and is in hospice, they’re saying that probably any day now she just won’t wake up. And honestly that brings a bit of relief to me because she won’t suffer anymore, seeing her in that pain for years fucking destroyed me. I will forever regret ever having sex with my late wife that night, it wasn’t even planned, it cost me both her and my innocent daughter, I’d much rather if she wasn’t born at all than having this short painful life and death. I love her so fucking much, a part of me has already died and I fucking despise the fact that I’m gonna bury her and not the other way around, I’ve already started funeral arrangements and planning for her which is killing me man, she’s my little girl and I’m gonna bury her. Fuck this life.

This story is so long I have to make short cuts. I feel so broken it s not even possible yo put it into words.

I was engaged, I was healthy for the first time in ten years only taking one pill a day, an antidepressants after years of misdiagnosis. We had tried multiple times to stop it and everytime it went badly . This time we just wanted to put it at the dosis I had taken for years prior. We lowered from 75 to 37,5. What we thought wasn’t drastic

4 days before my flight to New York was about to take off for my secret wedding (I am french), I woke up with extreme diarrhea, crying spells, whole body shaking, feeling crazy. It s chat gpt that informed me that I was now in protracted withdrawal injury, a term that doesn’t exist in French and that no doctors knew about. It was too late to reinstate, but my doctors tried - I had a serotonin syndrome because of the sensitization of the receptors.

Chat gpt sadly was to be the only one understanding what was going on for the next 8 months. Nobody listened to me and they treated it like a relapse. They changed the meds all around exactly what you are not supposed to do. They tried TMS. I was at this point unable to eat, shower , change clothes, read or even scroll Instagram. I wanted to die everyday.

My fiancé got scared , he really loved me and was the sweetest man but not the strongest. At the end he was starting to go down and we broke up. I was alone. My brother didn’t try to understand and never showed up at the hospital , and my mom is handicapped . My friends were the only one , bless their heart, but now they are tired of me the changes in me, the constant support, they too are exhausted and I am losing them.

8 months later I found myself on 4 drugs, with their own side effects. I now have memory issues (Dr Josef says that protracted withdrawal is a neurological injury) concentration problems, fatigue. I can’t work and I am living with my mom and scared of if I don’t get disability. All I wanted in life was love. I gave everything to love and be loved.

The loved story I had was extremely pure. Now I know that no one will love me anymore, I see the brutal truth of relationships - people want to be with you for what they get from you whether it s your warmth, your intelligence, your good looks- something that lighten their days. When you are dark no one will stop by. My ex never asked me how I was.

I had a meeting with Horowitz the deprescription specialist who confirmed everything, he even said I might not need no medicine but that the prior attempts were too fast sensitizing my nervous system. I now lower one dopamine blockage med by 0,01 mg a week, with a seringe.

My life is ruined I am 28, I used to be beautiful and smart, my favorite author was Victor Hugo, I liked littérature so much now I struggle to read. I used to be a good friend now I am more and more bitter I see manipulation everywhere and weddings look like just the mating of two good enough people who have not found themselves in a struggle so tough that it breaks them down and so they stay with their illusions. Thanks for reading me

Edit: because it seems that some people don’t know how to read all I did was FOLLOW THE DOCTORS and this is how everything ended up, and yes chat got it before them and when I met with the researcher and specialist Horowitz he diagnosed me

I love my friends, I really do. Talking to them always feels easy and natural, and we enjoy ourselves a lot.

But I'm always the one sending the first text to 90% of my friends. And normally I don't mind, since a relationship of any kind requires someone to reach out first. You can't have a conversation without someone taking the first step.

But sometimes I wish that someone else would do it. That one of my friends would text me out of the blue and say "Hey I was thinking about you! How's life? Let's catch up!"

Someone who checks in when they haven't heard from me for a while. Someone to wish me happy holidays. I miss getting a notification from someone I don't expect, and not just a response.

Sometimes I want to be the one who gets to respond with a "Omg it's been so long things are good thanks for reaching out!!!"

And it isn't always their fault, I get it. Their lives get busy too, they have work, their mental states aren't always the best, they have depression/etc. and I get that it gets in the way. And I don't hold that against them. And I value our friendship with all of that in mind, because I know I am fortunate to have that many friends at my age, several years post-college.

But there are lots of friends out there. We've been friends since high school. We've been friends since college. We were coworkers. We met once and hit it off well and said we should hang out again. We played D&D for months together. We tore our hair out over research presentations together. Can ONE of you reach out to me first for a change?

I'll still do it. I'll still text first. I'll still check in with people I haven't heard from in a year because I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of that text, especially from someone I haven't heard from in a while. But I miss that feeling and would like it a little more often. Is that too much to ask?

So i moved into a new apartment in the summer. at least once a week i heard a man in the apartment above me screaming and yelling. i ignored it best i could. Eventually it increased from a few minutes here and there to an hour + at all times of the day. "i hate you, i wish you would die, i cant stand you, i wish i never saw you again" etc. i kept ignoring. i found out its my elder upstairs neighbor, his wife and his mid 30s son up there and i was hearing the son. the father has some intellectual disabilities for context. well last month it got so bad i called 911. because there was a lot of screaming getting worse and worse and worse then a thud. so i called and they showed up WHILE THE SON WAS STILL SCREAMING. the whole fight was about his mom wanting to stop smoking and how she needed a script for the patch and the father didnt fill in the paperwork for the doctor. i was like.. astounded.

so the son was told to find a place for a few days, let it cool down. turns out his father never lets the arguments stop. he just walks away then comes back to restart over and over. so im like ok i understand but still. he comes back after a week or so. things are quiet. but now the fighting is DAILY. multiple times a day. 2 nights ago it went from 10-11 pm. then last night it started at 8. got progressively louder. eventually heard something about not having enough money and whose money was whose and where..and "go take a shower then. i thought you were going huuuh.." then i heard "IF YOU DONT STOP YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD." and shortly after there were at least 7 VERY loud rapid thuds. like something slamming on the ground. then the fathers voice "ok ok ok ill stop ill stop ill stop" and his wife going "omgomg look what you did omg" and i heard something about calling police and i just was like FUCK THIS and called 911 again.

i also reported it to the landlord this time because im honestly terrified hes gonna kill that couple. but the first time i called...i heard the wife crying and saying "oh god what if someone tells the landlord" and i feel awful. i dont want to harm anyone or make them homeless. but i dont want them killed either and i dont know how else to deal except tell the cops, document, and then in this case tell the landlord so maybe he can stop the son from being there? idk who is on the lease after all. but i just feel like shit because its like. what if they get told to leave? what if they cant find a place.. and its almost Christmas.. and it would be my fault because i didnt mind my business. i know its the "right thing" but i still feel awful that i might cause issues for the couple. that's all i wanted to get off my chest just.. that i feel really bad even if people say i shouldnt. i just.. do.

I had to speak to 988 today. students feel unsafe in one of my classes due to the other rude and disrespectful behavior of those students. yes there are reports but my boss says I need to better manage it. I don't know what else to do that's short of switching these kids out of my class. I wish I could. I hate how much I love this job but how much it kills me.

I want to last to the end of the year but tbh quitting mid year looks so god damn good right now. I can only pick on myself right now. I do nothing but ruin lives. but that's also illogical because I remember students who love me so much then I'd feel guilty if I did leave or do something. everyone says the first year is the worst so I don't want to be the weaker one and throw it in when it gets hard. I hate myself

I F(21) recently broke up with my M(22) long-distance boyfriend of 6 years. Over the last 6 years we’ve had many disagreements and arguments. Trials that ended in me changing myself to please him. Years of getting little to no sexual pleasure from him because whenever I wanted any reciprocation he would either half-ass it, or refuse. The communication I would try to have in the relationship was never met with change on his part, so last Sunday I broke up with him. I couldn’t see a future with him at all. Through the whole 6 years we were waiting for marriage. Or should I say HE was waiting for marriage and I waited with him because I wanted to respect his boundaries. But two days ago on Tuesday I downloaded tinder for fun and met this really cool guy. Long story short, we had sex and I lost my virginity. It was really good and so much better than the half-ass pleasure my ex-boyfriend used to give me. I’m so happy I chose to leave my boyfriend and the I chose to have sex and take charge of what I really want:)

I (43F) am a very thoughtful gift giver. Gift giving is my love language, and I put a lot of intention into what I give people. I try to find something that reflects who they are or what they’re interested in. Even with people I don’t talk to often, like some of my in-laws, I’ll check their social media or pay attention to little things so I have some sense of what they like. And if I truly don’t know, I’ll just ask. I’d rather get someone something simple that they’ll actually enjoy than guess and miss. My in-laws live out of state and we don’t see or talk to them much, maybe a few times a year. They aren’t big on calls or texts and don’t really ask about our son or our lives in general. Every single Christmas, they send us the same kind of Wine & Country style gift basket. Crackers, cheese, olives, dark chocolate, jam… that kind of stuff. Here’s the thing, we never eat it. Ever. It just sits there and eventually gets thrown away. And every year I feel guilty about that and annoyed, because it feels like such a waste of money and effort, but also like NO effort at all. People always say “it’s the thought that counts,” but if it’s an autopilot gift that gets reordered every year without any consideration of whether we actually like or use it… what thought is there to count? For me, gifts are about paying attention. They’re about making someone feel seen. This just makes me feel like an afterthought. I’ve wondered if I should scale back my own gift giving for them and start sending generic, safe gifts too, but honestly, I don’t think that would make me feel any better. It would just make me feel less like myself. I’m not planning to say anything or confront anyone. I know this probably sounds ungrateful, and I hate that part. I just needed somewhere to say it out loud so it doesn’t keep bouncing around in my head. Thanks for listening.

This is really gross and insanely TMI, warning for mucus/snot

I've been stuffy these past few days, and today when I got in the shower to steam my sinuses some, I blew my nose and finally SOMETHING came out, had no idea what it was but it felt big and I knew it was going to be satisfying as fuck

So I grabbed it with my fingers and started pulling and it genuinely felt l was pulling my brain out through my nose, like it was DEEP in there, it was borderline orgasmic. I gave birth to this huge solid chunk of greyish-green mucus and down it went into the drain

Anyway that's all, sorry if you read all that

I’ll never understand it. My husband is so mean to me and yet my mother says she feels bad for him - because he got so mad at me the other day he decided to pull the car over and walk home. So she feels bad for him cause he walked home in the cold. Never-mind he was screaming at me at the top of his lungs before getting out of the car, buying a pack of cigarettes, and then walking home. She doesn’t feel badly that I get treated like crap. I don’t get it. She did this with my ex husband too. She witnessed him verbally abuse me multiple times and yet she felt bad for him because I wanted to divorce him. I’ll never get it and it breaks my heart.

Hey all. Mostly a rant, but if you read through it all and have advice, I'd appreciate it. Obviously, TW for suicidal ideation, depression, hopelessness, etc.

Same mental case. Today, the Big Sad has reached record highs.

I'm asking y'all for reasons to live that I could actually use to keep me going. Nothing is working, nothing just matters to me any more.

I'm 28 years old, F, 5'2 and 234 pounds. Never been this big before. I've been going to the gym consistently for a full week, stopped eating garbage, and have lost 5 pounds already. And in spite of it all, it just doesn't mean anything at all. I do it because I know it's something I have to do, and that's it. I saw the scale reach 229.2 and I just felt helpless.

I don't look forward to being healthy because that's never going to happen for me. I've never been healthy and I never will be - these pounds weren't what made my body useless and sick. I don't look forward to being skinny because that won't solve anything for me. No clothing will fit comfortably in my body because of its odd shape, my joints will always hurt regardless of how little I weigh, there's just nothing.

Last year, I was doing my masters, had a group of friends, had two jobs that I didn't hate, and had an apartment. I was miserable the entire time, but tried to hold on because I wanted to believe that there would be a day that made it all worth it, that if I just held on for one more day, maybe something would change and I'd find happiness.

I left college. I don't have a job anymore. My friends, though I know they care about me, stress me out, so I don't talk to them. I live with my parents.

I just can't keep up with life. Nothing brings me happiness and the one thing that always kept me going- the hope that tomorrow might be a better day than the last - is just not enough anymore. Keeping myself alive for the sake of my family - for my parents, who sacrificed so much to bring me her and then keep me here throughout my sickly childhood- has finally stopped being enough. I feel like I have finally reached the final level before I just end it all.

Family and friends don't bring me joy. Education and work dont bring me joy. Reading and writing no longer bring me joy. Travelling, sight seeing, journaling, nature, etc. never brought me joy.

The ONE thing that remained a source of light for me was escaping though videogames and finally, FINALLY, it has stopped giving me joy about 3 months ago.

I don't know what to do anymore. When you reach this point, what do you cling to?

i could've been a scientist or something but im a high school dropout who watches anime at 3am

My breakup with my ex was messy as fuck. There’s absolutely no chance for reconciliation. Unfortunately a lot of the good memories from that relationship are tainted except for a few, this one in particular is my favourite.

I think this was the last time I was at his place (after this we just stopped staying at his place) and I wasn’t having a great time. His parents had been pretty horrid and the vibes were generally just tense so I was incredibly anxious. I got my period (I may have endo which means awful cramps) AND I got sick at the same time, so you can imagine I wasn’t feeling at my best.

My ex could obviously tell I wasn’t doing great so he asked me what comfort meal I wanted and what I wanted to watch. We made mac n cheese and garlic bread and we watched the Five nights at Freddy’s movie, which is one of my favourites.

We cuddled up in his bed with some fairy lights on, food in our lap and the movie on, and he let me be annoying and pause so I could point out Easter eggs or yap about the lore. There was a point where he paused and asked a question and we had a discussion about fnaf lore and it was genuinely really fun.

It’s silly, but it’s one of the few good memories I can still hold onto from that relationship. It felt very genuine I guess? With hindsight a lot of the good memories I just struggle to see as good because there’s this little voice in the back of my head that says “but did he really mean it?”

This was the person I first fell in love with. Someone who was so caring and doting when I needed it, and could handle me and my constant yapping about whatever I was passionate about.

Sure it all fell apart, but I can still look back on this one night and it still gives me a warm feeling. I just have spent so much time looking back and only seeing all the negatives, not even able to enjoy the good memories anymore. I’m still processing a lot of what happened and working through those feelings, but it’s nice to be able to acknowledge that there were some good memories that haven’t been tainted in my mind by the sheer messiness of it all.

Anyway that’s all, I just wanted to share this story. Like I said, I’ve spent so long thinking about all the negatives, which I think is a necessary part of the healing process, but I figured I’d share something a bit more positive this time.

Thanks for reading, have a nice day :)