Alright this one is a brutal one. To preface: all love to women that have chosen to be mothers. I always respect the right to choose. Period. However that doesn’t mean I like or agree with said choice.

I think any woman that chooses to have a kid(s) is a fucking idiot. I rarely see truly happy mothers with great husbands that pull their weight. I get annoyed when I see them complain. Like girl YOU decided to keep the kid and YOU decided who the father would be (most of the time- these points do not apply to victims of SA). YOU married/picked the asshole dude. YOU gave up your body. I have very little sympathy.
Also you guys let your kids run around everywhere and ruin everyone’s fucking day bro. I genuinely believe children should be banned from most restaurants, resorts, beaches, planes and on public transportation . In my humble opinion.

Also, mothers love to insinuate that what they have going on is more important than what’s going on with childfree women. You go to their baby shower, but they can’t come to your bday dinner. They don’t have the time or money for a sitter. The mother always seems to win because she chose to have a child. Well guess what? My life is just as important and you need to show up for your friends regardless of your fucking kid. And then they are shocked when they are no longer invited to plans. Having a baby doesn’t give you an excuse to be a bad friend or become entitled.

I already know I would struggle with PPD. I know I would hate my body after giving birth. I know I would have to pull way more weight than the man involved. I know most of my money would go towards raising kids. I know I would not be a happy mother.
Do I like the idea of having a grown up family? Yes. But I know myself and I know better than to make an irresponsible choice of having a child.

Last point:
“You my baby mama, I won” - offset to his WIFE.

23F, posting on a throwaway account due to the type of post… mention of anxiety & hypersexuality.

I’ve been having a really hard time processing something that happened a couple days ago. I struggle with hypersexuality, and some things that I did privately were recently brought public into a Discord server with over 100+ people and I was publicly “exposed.” I shared intimate photos with one person involved, but I did have sexual conversations with a few people (3 people), separate incidents, months apart each, the 3 of them just so happen to be friends with each other as well I guess so that is where I’d say part of the problem came from. We did not sext nor have sex or anything, just simply exchanged sexual details/facts with each other and as I said … I did send 1 of them explicit photos of myself.

But … they decided to come together and “expose” me because they thought that I had been talking badly about them, which I wasn’t. I genuinely considered these people my friends, so having them single me out and share private intimate things about me in a server with 100+ people in it was really upsetting and truly embarrassing. They also just said some pretty hurtful things and as well they said things that simply weren’t true.

They all already had knew how I can be (how I frequently can turn conversations sexual) and early on they all knew that I was hypersexual before ever chatting with me longer 1 on 1.

I know I’m 100% responsible for my actions and I’ve really been trying to work on my hypersexuality, but the whole situation has left me feeling incredibly embarrassed, guilty, and anxious. I keep worrying about who saw everything, what people think of me, and whether this is going to follow me somewhere else… (as in, if I were to join another server and they were also in there… I do know for a fact that they would repeatedly @ me and expose me for the same thing in that server as well 😔).

If you got this far, thx for reading the vent 😣. I have anxiety even posting this honestly … but I have nobody in my real life to tell, so here I am.

Edit: Everyone involved was single, including me.

Me (23F) and Bf (27M).

TLDR: I don’t want to give my boyfriend handmade gifts anymore because of how he mistreats them, and he thinks I’m being selfish for feeling this way.

I am a deeply art-oriented person and love to hand make gifts for the people I love, including my bf. Most of the people who I give gifts to love and cherish the things I make, and it makes me happy to find those things when I see them years later, still in the same condition and still just as loved.

Last year I gave my boyfriend a small bouquet of Victorian style hand made beaded flowers (crafted painstakingly with hundreds of tiny glass beads for dozens of hours until I was going crazy and my eyes and fingers started to hurt). I love doing this kind of thing, I dump hours into these projects but it’s out of love for the person so I don’t really mind how long it takes. Well this year, my boyfriend moved apartments. He’s lowkey borderline a hoarder and has an insane amount of stuff, and has issues taking care of his items (they’re often damaged and dirty). Ive known this, but I assumed he took special care for the things that mattered to him, and I assumed the things I’ve made him were included in that. But when I was helping him unpack, I found those beaded flowers in the bottom of a large plastic container with many large items on top of them. They were bent and crumpled, and I spent like 15 minutes t trying to bend everything back into shape but wasn’t able to get it quite right.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this- I’ve also found a cd I have him of my own EP (I am a musician) with the cardboard cover completely warped, frayed on the edges, and with paint drips on them. I usually sell those CDs but I am a sentimental person, he knew how much this release meant to me so I gave him the first one as a gift, and thought he’d treat it with the same sentimentality. I’ve also seen bracelets and necklaces (which I know he likes and wears) tossed to the ground, mixed up in piles of dust and dirt, on the bottoms of the bins, and all scratched up. So I’ve seen this before, expressed my feelings about it before, and when I saw the flowers it was a bit of a last straw idk.

When I told him how upset I was by that he immediately got defensive and started saying that those gifts make him happy and I can’t police how he chooses to appreciate them. He also said he put them away carefully (which I admit made me laugh bc wdym carefully??? They were crumpled up at the bottom of a box) And he said I was being selfish with my gifts and shouldn’t give gifts anymore, as if I was doing it for me and not for him. He said I got too attached to the things I give and that once you give a gift, it is out of your hands and you have no say in what happens to it anymore.

While I suppose all of that is technically true, it seems a little different when it’s something someone handmade for you (and they weren’t even ugly they came out so beautiful!) and when that person sees that the gift got abused and mistreated, it hurts so much because of all the love and time and often money that went into it. Like yeah I guess it’s true that I can’t control what happens to it after giving it, but from a partner, that feels so cold and lacking empathy. And like he doesn’t truly appreciate what I made and the thought and effort that went into it, and is completely lacking perspective on this. He really seems to think I’m the selfish one for being upset about this. He said I was being unfair as well. But idk- I’ve given handmade thoughtful gifts to a wide variety of people in my life and never have I ever seen them being treated this way. So many of those gifts, I find them years later in their house on a shelf, framed on a wall, or on a desk or something still in the same condition and they cherish them with the same sentimentality I had when I made them.

After all of this I decided I never want to give him gifts anymore, especially handmade gifts, if I know they will be treated this way. He thinks I’m being unfair and selfish but right now I feel like I’m going insane for even having to argue about this.

It feels so difficult for me (33f) to find a quality lover! The last 2 relationships I’ve had there basically sexless as one partner was addicted to viagra before we met and I didn’t want him to use that while we were together as i don’t enjoy the energy it creates (artificial hard on and forced, tension led type of arousal instead of through a relaxed body) \\\~ which ended up meaning we didn’t have sex because he struggled so much with his ED and didn’t want to do the work to address it .. we had a beautiful friendship but ya no sexy time ..
and then the last partner was just very inexperienced and insecure sexually and we weren’t able to really meet in a sexual encounter that I could fully relax into because he wasn’t very relaxed in himself to begin with

For reference, I am an attractive woman with a deeply sensual, sexual energy and I know that can be both appealing and also a bit intimidating for men ..
I have spent years exploring my sexuality through embodiment, tantra and many other pathways that have helped me to really inhabit myself in a deep way.. and although I am very sexual I’m still very particular who I share that with as I need to feel a sense of emotional intimacy, respect and care in order for me to open myself in that way ..

And god sometimes I just want to be having sexxxx! I’m sorry but so much on what is on offer these days is quite underwhelming, so many beautiful men have just not turned towards their own shadows around sexuality and the ways their porn addiction and fear of intimacy block them from being truly good lovers.

I have a lot of compassion for this and I’m also so over feeling unmet and bored by the small range in which they are able to engage intimately.

I’ve considered taking a female lover lol and I do enjoy women but I love men !

I sign up for the apps and am appalled by what’s on there.. I’ve given many people a chance and they just talk about themselves the whole time.. boring! Brothers, why don’t you ask questions? I’m sure they’re just nervous and trying to fill the space most of the time but I’m just overrrrr the effort it takes to try get a sense of satisfying connection., and that’s before sex is even a consideration!

To be blunt, I also just want to be fucked, well. With heart, attunement, and by a man in full approval of the primal beast inside of him. It’s rare to find a man who both inhabits his beast AND his heart, and can stay present with him desire and arousal instead of being overwhelmed and at the mercy of it.

I know I’m wanting a lot. I also bring a lot, most men I engage with end up becoming much better lovers just by how I teach them through my body what I (and a lot of women) want.. I know there are lots of great men out there.. but I just want a loverrrr!

I get shy to approach or open my energy to men in public because I don’t want them to think I’m easy lol.. but then I think they don’t know I’m available either. Eeeeepppp!!

Just ventinggggg. And open to encouraging reflections.
It’s a multi layered topic and I’m not trying to acknowledge every single point coz I just need to get this out, so don’t come for me! lol

It’s honestly been years since I’ve had good consistent sex, if you met me you’d be sooo surprised .. but I feel like I’m dying inside :(

This all started in my final two months of first year university. My hair was falling out badly and I became a recluse as I felt so embarassed about my hair. I just wanted to hide all day every day.

it started with small McDonald’s orders here and there. Just a burger, fries and a Diet Pepsi for example. But I found it became weirdly addictive to order. In all seriousness it became the only thing I thought about most of the day, as it was my only form of enjoyment I had I suppose. I woke up and looked forward to the evening so I could order. I would usually order between 12am-3am when my flatmates would go out so I could sneak the takeaway in without them seeing as I was ashamed. Im a petite girl most would say - 5’3, 52kg. I never gained weight during this phase weirdly. As I ordered more and more each order would get larger. I would typically order 3 double cheeseburgers, fries, cheese bites and a frappe or dessert.

when I started doing this every day I started to feel really guilty as I was wasting my hard earned money on crappy takeout. So I started refunding my orders. when I did it once and got a full refund I realised I had a cheat code - I could get huge takeout orders all for free. So I started abusing the system. I would order takeout 5 times in one app and refund them all until I got blocked for it. So I switched to another app And did the same - Uber, just eat, deliveroo, dominos, woosh, you name it. i ran them all dry until they stopped letting me refund.

once my hair stopped falling out I started taking care of myself again and I stopped craving junk food constantly, I started cooking properly meals for myself again.

just wanted to share because looking back, it was a depressive episode but I was in denial

Content warning: violence, DV, murder, sexual assault

I’ve (30M) always been a guy with big feelings, I’ve tended to fall in love in a big way and commit fully to my partners. This has led to a string of deep and intense relationships that aren’t always the best idea.

When I was 21 I married my college sweetheart, which was ill-advised. I survived a murder attempt a few months into our marriage. It took place in my home and resulted in a couple gruesome injuries and some severe PTSD. We never really bounced back from that and ultimately ended up cheating on each other on the same week. Two days after finding out, my stuff was on the lawn and her new guy was sleeping in the bed we’d had. We never had any closure or discussion about it, it just ended.

After that, I started living with a friend and ended up dating her (she was not the person I cheated with). She was volatile and abusive. She would explode, throw things, slam doors, throw things at me, and so on. I took it because I thought that I deserved it for my previous relationship. We moved to a different state together when I started grad school. She was unemployed a lot, which made the abuse worse. She finally got a job at a Catholic school, but was fired when they found out she was living with me.

We did the pandemic together and after that I felt like I owed it to her to get engaged, so I asked her to marry me and started planning the wedding. But the abuse kept getting worse and I was worried she would really hurt me. I remember sneaking out of the house after an argument to escape her and hiding in my office because i knew she couldn’t get in there. Eventually I ended things. We tried to live together for a bit, but when I came back from a date with someone else she broke a candle and cut herself wrists with the broken glass while screaming.

After the breakup I stopped eating for a couple weeks (not on purpose, I just wasn’t hungry). Then I got on anxiety meds, which were life-changing. I realized that my persistent lifelong suicidal ideation was mostly anxiety-related.

My next girlfriend I met through school (I was a third year grad student, she was a junior in college- I wasn’t in a position of authority over her or anything), we got along really well. She had a boyfriend when we started hanging and her bf had been abusive to her too (we kinda commiserated about it), but in different ways- he was controlling and he sexually assaulted her. We started spending time together and went out drinking on a night and her boyfriend picked her up at the end of the night. When they got home, he raped her. That was really rough and I was there for her through it as best I could. We kept in touch over that summer and by the fall we were dating.

I was head over heels from the start and really deeply in love with her. She graduated and got into a really great grad school a couple states away. We did long distance for a year until I finished my PhD, then I moved to live with her while she finished her PhD.

It was really rough at first. I couldn’t find a job that used my degree and my home state didn’t give me unemployment so I was broke broke, like $0 in my bank account, applying to anywhere I could, going to the food pantry. Eventually I found a job that paid much less than people with my degree usually make, but I was happy to have it.

Around this time she realized she had a drinking problem and, after a few months of work, got sober. We also opened up our relationship- it was something we approached pretty well and always felt like a nice addition to our lives. We had a couple secondary partners and everything got along well. Things weren’t perfect, but we were pretty happy.

Around then I switched my meds up (I’ve got GAD, BP2, PTSD, and depression). The new meds they put me on were not effective, I started rapid cycling and getting really anxious. It was never enough to impact work, but it ruined a vacation we took overseas.

I got laid off in July, which ended my access to health insurance so I switched back to my old meds. The stress of getting laid off and the medication change put me into a really weird depression. We had to go on a trip to a wedding and I literally couldn’t get myself off the floor, so we fought about it and she left the house after telling me off. I remember being so full of self loathing and angry at myself. I went into my bathroom, tied my bootlaces around my neck, and then started to hang myself from my bathroom door. I got about halfway through it and got scared so I stopped. I told her about it, she came back, we went to the ER, I didn’t go to inpatient because I couldn’t afford it, then we just went home.

A suicide attempt is weird because I am both the victim and the penetrator of what happened. I went to therapy before it, but couldn’t afford therapy anymore because of the unemployment. We went to couples therapy through her work and I thought things were working.

That November her aunt was murdered by a home invader, which really messed her up. Then in December she mastered out of her PhD program, but at the same time I found a new, better job.

Right after Christmas while driving at my parents farm she hit and killed her dog. She was inconsolable, but I buried the dog for her and then sold the silver I had for my jewelry making hobby so that she could buy a new dog since she couldn’t find a good job after grad school. So I was the only one paying for everything- rent, bills, pets, etc. I started a side gig selling things on FB marketplace to get her spending money.

In January she asked me to marry her and I said yes, we started planning for a wedding on Halloween this year. I started to struggle with polyamory, but we were working through it together in couples therapy. Then in April her stepfather strangled her mother during a fight, so she went down to be with her mother through that.

When she got back I picked her up at the airport and everything seemed okay, then in the morning she told me that she was ending things. No bargaining, no ultimatum, just over. She left the house and I had to take care of the dogs. She moved in with our (now formally) mutual partner. She told my parents and her parents that she was ending things about a week before she told me. I was the last one to know. She was worried I’d kill myself, which is reasonable I guess.

I couldn’t eat for a week, it took me two weeks to fall asleep without the assistance of THC, and I was crying at random times for about a month.

I spent the next couple months redecorating the house so that there’s nothing that reminds me of her.

My mental health since then is mostly good but occasionally spotty, my suicidal ideation has come creeping back (to be clear, I’m no danger to myself or others, I don’t have a plan, it’s just a persistent intrusive thought, and an overall morbidity), I’m great when I’m hypomanic or normal (which I am 75% of the time), but feel like I’m hollowed out maybe 25% of the time.

What’s funny is that since then my side gig has kinda taken off and our upstairs neighbor moved out so two things were were stressed by (having to be quiet during sex and having enough money) are no longer an issue for me.

Now I’m dating around, I have four or five people I see regularly, some of whom I even love- but I’m not seeing any way to be comfortable committing to anyone again. It seems far too risky to put my energy primarily into one person because it has not worked out the last three times. I’m a romantic still, I want to get married, have stability, and build with someone- ultimately I crave stability and comfort. But it’s so hard to believe that I’ll ever love again the way I have in the past.

The idea of falling deeply in love feels like giving someone permission to hurt me and leave me alone in 4-5 years. Every time has felt earth-shattering and even more difficult to bounce back from.

Honestly, across all of this I am the common denominator. It could well be that I’m not built for the kind of relationship I aspire to? I think I’m a decent and lovable fellow, even my most recent breakup ended with a shared ‘I love you’. I think of myself as good and desirable, but my ability to form the kind of deep, close love that I want to feels handicapped.

TL;DR: it’s been a rough few years, I’ve had relationships fail, I’m feeling incapable of forming the kind of love I want

I made 2 different girls fall in love with me. I love the both of them, so I have to break up with one of them

I (20F) feel awful for this. The plan was always to just screw around a bit, and now... just a lot of heartbreak and pain.

I met both of these girls at around the same time, who I will call A (23F) and M (18F). I met A first at a school club event at a bar. We were drunk and kissed, but she later clarified to me that she was ok with it. We live nearby on campus, but she wasn't going to move in for a while. Then, I met M, who is an international student, and I showed her around the city. We followed that up by going to my room to play mario kart on the switch and drink, where we ended up hooking up. A few days later, I go to A's room, where we play overcooked, and then... yea i think you know where this is going.

I told the both of them that my aim this semester was to just fool around, go on exchange and fool around some more, and then come back and find someone to settle down with. I did also tell both of them they weren't the only one I was seeing. They both agreed for now. For now.

Because over the next 2 weeks they made it increasingly clear to me that they wanted to date. Exclusively. And screwing around with them both did something to my brain chemistry and now I kinda want the both of them. which is weird. im not polyamorous. and even if i was, im a bit too jealous to be in a polyamorous relationship.

This all sorta came to a head a few days later, when A said that she needed some space and asked if im "still seeing that girl". that's when i realised i needed to have made this decision yesterday. but... maybe it's just my personality, but i see no way to distinguish which of them i like more. ive seen a future with the both of them. then it comes down to minute or stupid things like which of them smells nicer or which one i think is nerdier (as a nerd i love dating nerds)

for now A has mostly distanced herself, while M has tried to cling on even tighter. however, there's another concern with M: i'm the only girl she's ever been interested in. im scared that im gonna be "just a phase" in her life, and she might eventually leave me for a guy...

im scared of whatever i do. and i know i'm going to have to break someone's heart. i want to at least stay friends with them both, but would that even be possible? i just am at a loss. i sorta didn't expect both of these relationships to become so real so quick. i dont need advice, ive frankly asked too many people, including my dad who i never talk about relationship stuff with. i just need to admit that this might be top 3 moments where i've felt the most like a terrible, reprehensible human being. i think i might, in the words of a friend, be ruining their lives, and ive broken at least A, which sucks because i know her mental health is not doing the best. i'm even more scared to break M, because im her first and i think main friend here. i hate this.

My partner (5 years together, 4 living together) and I are both pet people, but I've learned we relate to animals in fundamentally different ways. And honestly, this is just one example of broader incompatibilities. But it's the most concrete one I can articulate, and it's an important one.

It seemed simple: he's a cat person, and I'm a dog person. I thought we could make it work. We both appeared to accept each other's pets, and his cat and my dog ​​actually got along well. But we've never truly embraced each other's animals. I'd give his cat attention when she wanted it, but I hated dealing with her litter box and was frustrated when she scratched my furniture. And he still doesn't understand my dog ​- her specific sounds, her gestures, and generally the way dogs communicate their needs. Instead, he's fixed on her breath, commenting on it almost daily. No one else does that, and the vet has confirmed there's nothing wrong.

Then his cat got sick earlier this year. Even though she wasn't my favorite, I was the one who had to push for a vet visit. An animal who suddenly stops eating and seeking affection isn't “just under the weather.” When the cancer diagnosis came and we learned she didn't have much time, I again had to press the issue of scheduling her euthanasia. I didn't want her suffering or wandering off to die alone. He initially refused to make the appointment or even talk to me about it. And when the appointment finally happened, he didn't want my dog ​​to also be there - which left her confused and upset, wondering where the cat had gone. She kept searching the house and moped on the couch for several days.

For months now, he's been watching cat cams and cat videos. I've smiled and gone along with it, even though I don't really enjoy them. Today I finally asked if he was watching them because he felt a void. He said no, and I hope that's true. But I can't shake the feeling that he really wants another cat someday. So he needs to be with someone who wants that too. And I want someone who adores my dog, who understands dog behavior and quirks instinctively, wants another dog in the future, and doesn't love euthanasia but understands when it's necessary. 

Pets aren't a small preference. They shape your home, your routines, your lifestyle. They're part of your emotional world. And I'm seeing that our differences here aren't minor, they're foundational.  Neither of us are wrong, we're just different. But as a result, we're not interacting with one another like a cohesive family unit. We're just tolerating each other.

I don't want this.

**Real person, here. Not AI. And he's half-Mexican. This isn't robot or white people shit. And yes, the pet situation is equivalent to the Iranian yogurt. I was describing the catalyst that made me realize our general incompatibility - that was the entire point of the post. I'm just starting to process this and how I end my relationship as amicably as possible.

My bf and I have been together 10 years and have 2 kids together. We just bought a house and I just realized this weekend that I don’t want to be with him anymore. I’ve felt this way for a while now but this weekend it really set in that I can’t nor do I want to be with him anymore. We are doing couple therapy and she asked each of us what % are we committed to each other and I said 50% and laughed it felt good saying I don’t think I see a future with him finally. Idk what to do. I don’t even care about the house and I just want to sell it and be done with him. We don’t touch anymore, there’s absolutely no romance between us anymore. I have been avoiding sex because I just can’t have sex with him anymore. I don’t want him touching me. We can’t even talk anymore anytime we interact we fight. I am emotionally and verbally abused in my relationship, he’s such an angry man and takes it out on everyone in the house. I don’t want my kids growing up with an angry man in the house. Or my kids seeing their mom being treated how he treats me. Idk what to do or idk what we even can do in regard to the house and selling it a month after buying it. But I just can’t do life with him anymore. I’m so stuck and I’m so alone. And I just want to leave, idk where I’ll go but anywhere is probably better than staying with him.

I feel like I lost the light of my life. I loved her so much. We've been having problems as of late but I didn't think it would lead to this. I recently got laid off. I ruined my credit to help us stay afloat, now I just feel like i'm starting over at a worst spot than when I we first ended up dating.

My family wasn't a huge fan of her. They are fairly conservative and thought I should have an old school wife. Never have I wanted that. I love cooking for her and cleaning and how wonderful our conversations were. They always told me I should find a woman that does that for me instead, I defended her so often. Just sucks to hear them tell me basically "I told you so, I knew this would happen" I'm just trying my best to stay strong. I don't need to hear that right now.

I don't want to go on with this having been my 20s. I lost my best years. 28 and 29 I lived with my ex who had cheated, gaslit and manipulated me into thinking I'm evil for wanting to move on quickly after what happened The years before that I was the only thing in her life apart from her university stuff. I was constantly comforting her, pushing her through crises, helping with whatever, completely neglecting myself. I felt responsible for her my whole 20s. After she cheated and it imploded, we made the deal that she finds a job and leaves town. She had finished her master's a few months before. She didn't find anything, she didn't have a plan what to do. But I also made her feel like she couldn't leave because I felt guilty and responsible for her. When I tried to leave, she'd made me feel horrible. It was insane, it doesn't make sense. There is more to it, shitty behavior from both sides but I have gotten over my guilt after seeing myself as evil for years and have told the full story to people, leaving none of my own shitty behavior out.

Those should have been the best years of my life. I was still in my 20s, I had a job that paid like a real job but allowed me to live like a student. But I was stuck in a loop of fights, guilt, absolute insanity with a person who just stayed at home all day who made me feel like I was responsible for her life. I don't want the knowledge anymore that I lived like that. I can't forgive myself. The depression is rooted so deeply that I see nothing positive in life anymore. When people say stuff like it's just about, I genuinely don't think that they know what depression really is. When you see only black, when every single thought is just tearing you apart, when every little thing that should make you feel good, things you do for yourself, treating yourself, just make you feel like it's too late and like you are an irredeemable loser who missed everything. I'm 31, close to 32. This year I accepted that I need external help. And I just lost more time pretending it works, telling myself I'm doing the right things. The mental health care system here seems fucked. No one bluntly tells you what they think you need. It's either you commit yourself to stationary treatment immediately or wait for a long time to get an appointment with a therapist who doesn't care. I've been on medication for months. I didn't sleep for a while and that fixed it. Then I just got worse again and looked forward to the pill in the evening because that meant I could pass out. Some antidepressant. Now I'm on something new. The withdrawal from the old, the starting side effect from the new, or just my general demeanor, I don't know, made me feel like nothing is ever going to be fine. I know for a fact it won't. Completely isolated, ruined PhD, non-existent memories, wasted the best years with a person who made me just miserable. I'm a loser, I missed everything, I lived forever in a city I hate, pretending like I'm doing something sensible. I shouldn't be here anymore.

It has been a year and a half since I lost almost my entire life.

And no, I don’t mean I’m “trying to build a new life.”

I already had one.

After growing up through years of war, I had finally managed to build something stable. A home. People around me. Work. Familiar streets. A routine. A place where I knew who I was.

It wasn’t some inspirational success story.

It was just a normal f***ing life.

And after everything, that felt like enough.

Then, within a few months, it disappeared.

I lost my home and ended up in a foreign country obsessed with concrete, glass towers, and selling people the idea that dreams can apparently be built if you pour enough cement over the desert.

My family ended up in another country.

Everyone became unemployed.

And somehow I became the one person expected to financially carry an entire family that I love more than I can explain.

Within months, I burned through my savings.

I lost almost everyone I knew because I had to leave.

I lost whatever sense of value I had built for myself.

And then I lost my father.

His cancer came back after he had already beaten it once, after depression, displacement, and watching everything around us collapse.

So after a year and a half of almost every flavor of human misery I can think of, this is where I ended up:

I can’t afford therapy.

I can’t even afford the luxury of becoming a drug addict.

And the only thing standing between me and s*****e is the fact that if I die, I don’t just destroy myself.

I destroy the people who depend on me.

So apparently I stay alive.

Not because life feels good.

Not because I’m hopeful.

Because I have bills.

Because people I love need money.

That’s the grand philosophical reason I’m still here.

And because some pathetic survival instinct still refuses to die, I started looking for anonymous communities.

Places where I could be nobody.

Where I could talk to strangers about what happened to me without having to explain who I am, what I do, where I’m from, or why my life looks like a badly written disaster movie.

I thought maybe I could just dump some of the grief somewhere.

And what do I find?

Horniness.

An unbelievable amount of horniness.

People looking for dates. People flirting. People searching for attention or connection. Spaces supposedly built around loneliness, depression, or mental health somehow turning into another social marketplace where everyone is trying to be wanted by someone.

My problem is that I keep entering spaces that are supposedly for people who are mentally drowning, and somehow so much of the conversation still ends up revolving around dating, attraction, s*x, identity, preferences, and who wants who.

And I keep thinking:

Is there nowhere for people who just want to talk about grief?

Questions about sexuality and identity feel so unbelievably distant from where my mind is right now that they almost feel like questions from another life.

Depression has killed so much of me that I barely have enough room left in my head to wonder what kind of human being I am at all.

I’m not looking for s*x.

I’m not looking for a community to “belong” to.

I just want somewhere I can say:

My life was destroyed. I am exhausted. I am still here. And I need to talk about it without everything turning into something else.

So where are people like that supposed to go now?

People whose problem isn’t finding themselves.

People who are simply trying to survive what happened to them.

Maybe the answer is exactly what I said at the beginning.

To hell.

Because apparently there’s nowhere else

Last post before I get back to practicing questions for my med exam. I'm trying to not break down for I have applied benzoyl peroxide on my fuckass acne which doesn't even wanna go away. It makes me look so ugly. My skin is so dull. I havent had my periods in 2 months and i cant tell you how bad i look. Its been affecting me a lot lately.

Going back to the topic, i reactivated my insta to look for updates of a music artist who is about the same as age and ethnicity as me. Her parents migrated to the west. She got professional piano training at idk like 5 at a renowned music school. Owns like 6 musical instruments and can play them. Lives in a really big house, really privileged. Good looking as HELL. And yano what? Living my dream of being a full time music artist performing at shows, making music with producers, being able to pursue her interest. Just performed her first gig.

Yes I had the same interest as her. I Can sing well, wanted to learn guitar ever since i knew anything else, parents refused, finally got one in 6th grade. The guitar teacher knew nothing and taught not even the basics. Covid hit- guitar lessons stopped. I was always interested in music- just like her. I wanted to pursue music, learn several instruments.

During covid i got FL cracked, tried producing shit, dad said music production makes no bucks- i had to leave everything. Got rid of the only musical thing i had- my vocal lessons. All because i am born in a 3rd world country because here, all you can fucking do is study and get a job as either an engineer or a doctor.

Almost 7yrs from 6th grade- she stands on stage performing whereas I am stuck in coaching classes to clear a fuckass med school exam after which i will have to hustle again. She's got the face, the body, the luck, the opportunities i wish i had, yes i envy her. I look ugly as fuck as well and got 0 friends.

Oh and do not tell me "you can do music after you get into med school". There's difference between treating music as your primary vs a secondary recreation hobby. Life is really fucking unfair. It really is. Have been waiting for life to get "better" but it never happens.

I've seen this be listed as a symptom for schizophrenia and DID, but I don't think I have either.

I don't think I have schizophrenia because, from what I've been told, schizophrenic people can't really separate their delusions (idk if that's the right term, sorry if it's not) from reality, and I can kinda do that (like unless I'm particularly tired or upset, they kinda have the same affect as my regular thoughts do, but I can't really control them, and they have a different voice than my normal thoughts do), and I don't really have much else that would make me think that I'm schizophrenic (unless my overthinking of the Boltzmann Brain thought experiment counts as an illusion of grandeur).

And I don't think I have DID, because I don't really have any trauma (at least not that I remember) that would've been early enough for me to develop anything in the first place.

Maybe there's something else I'm not aware of that this could be, but as of right now, this is confusing and just a little bit worrying if I'm being entirely honest.

Also, I am aware that I should probably seek professional help, but I'm not really in the position for that to be a particularly viable option at the moment.

I hate myself so much, that I want someone else to take advantage of me.

Not in a way that would actually turn me on, but in a completely mentally hurtful way, like rape. I do not really want it to happen, because I don’t want to experience it truly. It is not a fantasy, it’s like a forced mental thought.

But I believe I deserve it..

Me and my bf have been together for 1 year and 7 months.

I love him, genuinely. He’s one of the kindest, most caring and intelligent people I’ve ever met, I admire him a lot, I’m proud of him, and I genuinely want only good things for him. He hasn’t cheated on me, abused me, treated me badly, or done anything that would make this a “bad relationship.”

But, right now, we’re currently taking some time apart because things between us had become emotionally exhausting, and a lot of it has to do with his insecurities: he’s been struggling professionally and personally, and over time I started feeling like I was constantly having to reassure him, explain myself, manage his feelings, or be careful about how certain situations might make him feel. I know he doesn’t do this maliciously, he’s genuinely struggling and I have a lot of empathy for him.

Something happened during this time apart that I didn’t expect: I realized that I really like being alone. I thought I would miss him terribly. Instead, I’ve mostly been noticing how much lighter my mind feels when I’m not thinking about another person’s feelings, expectations, or needs. I don’t miss having to say good morning, share every little thing about my day, wait for messages, or constantly consider whether he might want to be included in something.

I’m not particularly sad about that, and I still love him. I still get happy when something good happens to him, when he tells me about a great gig (he's a musician) or something exciting in his life. I still care about him deeply, but I’m starting to understand that loving someone and wanting to be their girlfriend are actually two different things.

Our time apart has also made me realize that some things that happened between us have already changed me: even if his insecurities improved, even if our relationship became healthier, those experiences already happened and I can’t simply go back to who I was before them. And I'm realizing that I'm not necessarily scared of losing him, but that I might genuinely prefer my life without being in a relationship right now. Like, I don’t want another person, I don’t feel like I’m desperately waiting to meet someone else.
Not asking for advice or for someone to give me a reality check, I just don’t really know what to do with that realization yet, that I might just want to be alone. I just needed to put it somewhere outside my own head.

TL;DR: I’m 22, my boyfriend is 28, and we’ve been together for 1 year and 7 months. I love him and he’s truly a good person, but our relationship became emotionally exhausting, so we’re taking some time apart. Instead of missing the relationship, I’m realizing how much I like being alone and I’m starting to wonder whether I still want to someone's girlfriend at all...

September is Suicide Prevention Month, and every year when it comes around I have a rather odd time. That's the best way I can explain it.

I've survived several attempts over the years, the most recent one being in 2023. I've always struggled with mental health, been institutionalized multiple times in my life (sometimes forcibly, sometimes willingly) and not always because of my failed attempts. Back when I was actively trying, each failure made me even more depressed and suicidal, as I would think things like "Damn, can't even kill myself right" and therefore spiral even further. Honestly, I think it's a bit of a miracle that I made it through each time.

It's a strange thing to be alive during Suicide Prevention Month as someone who has tried to take their life. Nowadays I'm happy to have survived, but there's still this weirdness to the whole thing that I just can't quite explain to most people. Like, if things had gone even slightly wrong, if I hadn't been found on time, I wouldn't be here right now typing up this post. I'd be gone. Yet another sad story that people share when a loved one days, maybe especially emphasized during Septembers to raise awareness or something. I keep thinking about that; about the possibility of having been just a story of a lost loved one posted to social media or something, with a smiling picture and emotional caption and everything. It's so strangely clear in my head.

I'm better nowadays, still in therapy and on new medications to manage symptoms of my mental illnesses, and not actively suicidal anymore. Though I still have thoughts about it that I don't think will ever really go away. I'm working on stopping that, especially going "I'm going to kill myself" at every minor inconvenience, which a lot of people seem to jokingly do these days.

Having come so close to death by my own hand really puts things into perspective. It makes some things seem so... Inconsequential? Sometimes I'm even glad for certain struggles that would've once made me miserable, whether big or small. Like, even getting anxious or scared is oddly pleasant now, because it means I'm alive. I'm here. Talking to people I don't know to pay them a compliment if I recognize the band or show on their shirt, or if I think their tattoos are pretty. Making myself food, or when I'm feeling too tired ordering something. Maybe leaving certain tasks and chores undone for a bit too long. Everything is okay (or will be) in the grand scheme of things.

I can't explain this to anyone who hasn't had near death experiences. It's so surreal. In those moments of barely even being conscious, unaware of what's happening around you, ready to just let go and drift away... And then waking up after however long to find people weeping over you while you're in a hospital bed with an IV in your arm. And sometimes handcuffed to the bed "for your own safety" (which I used to think was only a TV thing, but apparently not, at least where I live). And after a while you're discharged, and you go back home, and sometimes people act like everything's peachy. Sometimes they don't talk about the elephant in the room, sometimes they do. You're alive and it's weird, because you weren't planning on making it through and yet you did. You can sleep in your bed again and use the same bathroom in which you were found half dead. It's all very weird.

I hope that anyone reading this who's also had similar experiences knows they're not alone. I'm glad we've both made it.

So, on 15th august (i remember the date cuz it is my cuntry's independence day) i saw an Instagram post abt dolly parton's deth and people were showing respect at her hollywod star ...whatever it is called, that star shaped pavement/ sidewalk with her name on it on a tile like thing.... I thought of posting a story abt it , like rip dolly you will be remembered type..like payung respect/rip story on Instagram, but i didnt cuz my account got reported or like disabled ..i fell into depression(not related to dolly, just college stuff) so i wasnt able to get out of my bed or anything, my phone wasnt even charged.... When i kinda felt good, charged my phone ,went on internet... on august 25th August, i saw that news again.... I thought it was an old news ...but no.. people were posting her on story.....i was like didnt she di on 15th???? Ive been going crazy for past 2 weeks .... Like am i crazy? Did i hallucinate or sum??? Idk where to ask this ...so im posting it here.

Here, in India I have noticed this thing in our teaching style, it's like teaching speaking and students listening. Students often zone out or are very scared to speak up, they are under confident and have fear of speaking up and sometimes they also think that the teacher will make them feel stupid in front of the whole class. Well it's my own experience, it has happened to me a lot. I was never an 'A' grade student, i struggle to understand things, i take more time than others to understand a simple concept.

All my childhood i have felt like ishaan Awasthi from Taare Zameen Par

I feel like we should teach our way of teaching from i lecture and you listen to okay this is the topic what to you guys think about it?

Like have a proper discussion

We need students to participate in class

They should engage and have that confidence to speak about the topic even if they are wrong, so they can be corrected.

Classroom should be more like a where everyone learns something new.

Sometimes those kids can teach you something as well.

There should be no ego in teachers that they are always correct and that those children are not capable of teaching anything new to you.

I feel like you can learn something new from literally everyone.

Learning should be fun not boring. Student should be curious not scared. Classroom should be a safe space. We need confident students in India as well.

Only book and theoretical knowledge is not enough, they need to learn how to face the real world after school. We need to encourage them to think, not just giving assignments and grading them because we know how much TECH is helping them with assignments. Encourage them to write on their own even its wrong, even if its not making sense.

Let them think

Let them have their spark

Let them explore their interests

Let them be curious

Don't get angry if they are slow, explain again and again if needed.

They will do so much better in life this way.

I want to become the teacher i have always wanted as a kid and i will.

I don't know if I'm right.

I got divorced almost two years ago, I really resent the way things ended because she didn't manage things correctly from her part, I was a mess because of it, I feel like I'm getting better, but I'm not sure. Anyway, everytime I tell my story to someone new, I stop and say "I'd rather not talk about it, I promised myself I won't speak badly about her". I feel she deserves to be known for who she is and not for the image she shows everyone, but I decided to let time take care of it.

I hope I'm clear about my point. I open my heart here because it feels like a safe space.

I don't like long posts , so I gave you a very short version.

Tomorrow will mark 2 years after my first girlfriend broke up with me and honestly it's only getting worse. 8 months no contact yet I haven't completely lost hope or maybe faith that one day we could be together again, but I think it's time for me to lose that hope.

I hate to compare myself to my friends but one of my closest ones got broken up with about a month ago and we've been talking about how we've been feeling but he's doing very very well and I'm the opposite. He and his ex girlfriend were together for 7 years, my and my ex girlfriend were together for 2 years, I know everyone's different and handles grief differently but I felt jealous of him and I hate that.

I really wish I didn't feel this way about my friend and specially about my ex girlfriend.

I told my friend how I felt and he gave me reassurance and made me realize how stupid I was being jealous of him. He tried encouraging me to embrace change and how everything's gonna be fine in due time but I'm desperate. I really don't want to give up the last bit of hope of being with my ex girlfriend again but at the same time I'm tired of feeling like this. Tired of waking up thinking about her all day long until I faint from exhaustion at night while still thinking about her.

I believe she's in a relationship and thought this could change the tides and make me stray away from my constant thinking and reminiscing about her but it's only made me feel worse.

Why can't I move on? Why can't I deal with this intense suffering and melancholy? Why did I do those things knowing she was hurting.

I feel like I'm irredeemable

Sorry for such a negative and pessimistic post, honestly I just wanted to get this out somewhere.

i’ve been posting in here for over a month bc it’s like i can’t live if i’m not reassured, and even when i am, it’s never enough.

no one understands me. not here, not irl. nowhere.

basically i just want to be part of the preference, and the preference for men is statistically and well u can see it anywhere short girls. and i’m 5’11 so i’m not a part of that.

so i just want to be told that i’m perfect, bc i feel like my height takes it all away.

i would say that i’m a great looking person, i’ve been modeling since i was ten, got it offered first when i was a toddler but my mom didn’t let me get in an agency until i was 10. i get told that i’m pretty and i’m praised basically every day. many guys have liked me. yet, i still am depressed and no one understands me, i just get called an attention seeker everywhere.

i just want to rip my legs apart, to make myself as small as possible bc that’s what men want. such as youth, i know that the younger you are, the more wanted that you are. that’s the reason why i’ve always been afraid of growing up, even when i was a damn kid, and now that i’m close to turning 18 every day is a nightmare.

my mind is conflicted bc even tho i feel like a fool for growing up, i’m also aware that i’ve always been tall, even when i was a kid, so i wouldn’t have been useful for any guy even then.

i think about harming my legs permanently every day, but then i remember that my torso neck arms hands are long too, so i would still be too long and not useful for men either, so I HAVE NO WAY TO BECOME WHAT THEY NEED.

i’m tired of being impractical.

it’s all so confusing bc i’m also thankful for my height. i’d never want to be short if it was my choice, and i’m thankful with God for making me this way, but at the same time i hate him because this isn’t a world where tall girls are the preference for men, even tho it should be.

i’m really tired. i think abt my height 24/7 it’s been years of being unable to do anything in peace. i’m embarrassed of being unworthy of men.

i don’t want more comments saying “plenty of men like tall women” or “most don’t care about height” or “you’ll find your person” because I DONT WANT THAT I ONLY WANT TO BE TOLD THAT IM PART OF THE PREFERENCE, even tho i know it’s not the reality, i NEED to hear that and i won’t be happy until i do so.

Throwaway account as this is quite personal. And of course, names and details will be omitted.

TL;DR: I fell in love with one of my coworkers and friends, but I didn't realise it at the time. I genuinely believed that I was happy enough just being friends, but it's clear to me now that wasn't the case and that I did want more. She wanted a friendship, while I wanted something slightly more, and because of that, we can't have anything. It sucks.

Last September I, 23M, properly met one of my coworkers, 19F, for the first time. We seemed to hit it off very quickly. I'm someone who used to struggle quite a lot with having conversations, especially with new people. But with her I found it effortless.

A few days later she deliberately stayed behind after her shift just to talk to me, to get to know me. Even asking me earlier in the day what time I finished. We had a chat about keyrings, Thomas and other things. We were getting along really well. And this is when a crush started to form. And got increasingly stronger the more I got to know her, and the more she enthusiastically talked to me.

A few days after that I give her my number (fucking terrified I was), and she saved it in her phone immediately  and texted me as soon as she got home. We then texted after work every night 5 days in a row. We talked about films, Star Wars, experiences with bullying and loneliness, inappropriate things customers have said to her and all sorts. She even planted the idea of us watching a film together.

I plucked up the courage and nervously invited her to the cinema, to which she eagerly accepted, and even suggested we go for a meal afterwards. I was very excited, I'd got a date! My first one! With a girl I really like! This was awesome.

A couple days later I watched Star Wars for the first time. She loves it, and so I watched it mainly because I wanted her to like me. We're discussing it after, I tell her my favourite scene, and then she says something surprisingly consequential.

The music from that scene is her phone alarm music.

My reaction to reading this was... pure joy. Like utter pure joy. And my instinctive reaction was the respond "I love you". Not in like a heartfelt confession way, just... utter appreciation of her as a person. I chose a different response though.

At the time I thought it was just a throwaway comment. But looking back nearly a year later, it was actually very revealing and I should have heeded the warning.

I had actually fallen in love with her.

Which was unfortunate, as just two days earlier she told me she was gay and in a happy relationship with her girlfriend.

Some reasons I believe it was love rather than just a crush:

She was upset about something, and seeing her upset hit me so deeply.

When she had to drive home in poor weather, I asked her to text me when she got home so I knew she was safe. Something I don't normally do.

She was doing supervisor training, I find out through a colleague that she will be supervising solo. I send her a quick text encouraging her, saying I had every faith in her.

I was genuinely very happy for her that she was in a happy and loving relationship with someone else. But also it was very painful for me.

I felt genuinely invested in her, I just wanted her to be okay. To be happy

I was utterly devastated when our friendship ended. I cried several times, which I never do. I never cry. But I did at losing her.

She would occupy my mind a lot. Like it felt almost constant.

I cared very deeply about her opinion of me.

I felt envy if I ever saw her with someone else (never act on it though)

I was so baffled and confused as to why I was experiencing this. This has never happened with anyone. Ever.

I didn't realise I was feeling love. I told myself and other people that I am more than just being friends, and that was an honest statement. But only now have I realised that wasn't an accurate assessment.

Truth is, i did want more. And I really wish that was not the case. I think we had the potential to become good long term friends, but because I wanted more means we can't have anything.

I found it very difficult to keep that fondness under wraps, which made her uncomfortable understandably. It was my first time ever feeling this way about someone.

I loved her. That's why we can't be in each others lives. Which sucks.

We were friends from school(me, U, F, W), things started falling apart the next year after we finished it . We combined our friend group with Friend U's partner's friends group (next group B). After I had a big conflict with them, our groups became separate again. U stayed there. F and W were there because of us, so they never fully were in a group B. It was in the fall.

In february, I started my D&D campaign as a first-time master with other friends and asked U to join because I knew U always wanted to try. After some time, U also joined an online D&D game with group B. U was shy and not really social, so U didn't take part in my game, just sitting there without taking part. During breaks, U talked about how great and cool her second campaign was and how much she liked it. Sometimes she criticized my style and compared it to group B's master's. With all that, she ignored my other attempts to spend time with her, no walks, no online games (and then U played with group B).

Last august, U had a conflict with group B and they kicked U out, but the two people who were on U's side left too, and with one U became partners. At this moment, U didn't spend time with our group at all. I'm not talking about even asking us how we were. U didn't really try to spend time with us when we were inviting.

So we had a great conversation about how we all felt and what to do. I convinced the other two friends to give U a second chance. They forgave U. And then U didn't change. U didn't call us to play together, didn't want to spend time with us. All the time I tried, she answered no, and that was all. The last drop was when we planned to play together, but at the last moment U's partner couldn't join, so she refused also. At this moment, I realized U didn't want to spend time with us. Just didn't mind if we were there when spending time with their partner. I left the chat group.

In November, I broke off relations with the two friends from that group. It just became a one-sided friendship. They spent time with U and her partner (this person moved to our country at this time). So it more and more often became a question of inviting me, never a question of inviting U and her partner. So I just told them that it was not a friendship for me and I couldn't keep going like that. So that's how things ended.

Now it has been a year, and I still miss them, especially U. I shouldn't, but I still miss them.

I'm 29M, brother is 34M. Brother has recently married & is expecting a child next year.

When we were really young, my brother abused me a lot. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, he was a monster. Hitting me, beating me, or physically threatening my life in any number of ways, he'd take me in his car, taking it up to 70 mph on a suburban street, yelling at me that I'm going to die, threatened me with needles, threatened to kill my pets, tried to break down my door with a tool once (he claimed it was an axe, I never saw the tool, but our parents had to replace the door b/c of the gouges in the wood).

Sort of guy who made friends of bullies of mine in school, to give them more ammunition to bully me. Stories of siblings who'd beat up bullies for younger siblings sounded like fantasy, to me. He introduced me to the concept of suicide when I was super young, and it stuck in my head, being a constant companion in the years since.

But, onto the meat of the story. One of the worst things he did to me, when I was 9 or 10, was taking a bunch of pictures of me, a chunky child, naked (well, mostly naked, I was in underwear), holding a sign saying "I'm a big fat whale". I didn't know this was wrong, at the time, and I didn't know until years later, that this was technically a sex crime, a felony. I also learned that him showing bullies of mine in school those photos, who started taunted me by calling me a whale, was also a crime.

As an adult, a therapist taught me that those were grevious crimes, that caused some pretty bad trauma in me (I've had an issue with having my picture taken for years). I was told that, if I had reported my brother within a different timeframe, that he would probably be on the sex offender registry. (Well this, combined with the statutory rape offenses he committed while being a teenaged drug dealer). In recent years, I've told my parents, and a single uncle, but nobody else in my family. My brother got married last year, and is expecting a child next year.

I'm worried for this child.

Should I tell more of my family? Should I tell his wife and her family?