I’m writing this because I can’t carry the silence anymore. I don’t want advice. I don’t need anyone to fix it. I just want someone to see this. To hear me. To know this story happened, and it hurt.

I’m writing this because I can’t carry the silence anymore. I don’t want advice. I don’t need anyone to fix it. I just want someone to see this. To hear me. To know this story happened, and it hurt.

I’m a mom in Mexico. I was in a relationship with a man — let’s call him Daniel — for four years. We lived together. He helped raise my son, who called him “dad.” We were building a life. He told people we were getting married. We adopted pets. We planned trips. And then one day, he packed a change of clothes, walked out the door, and left us like we were nothing.

And the worst part? He’s still with the girl he cheated on me with.

We met by chance, at a concert. We locked eyes like something cinematic. A week later, he liked one of my posts — I recognized him from his profile photo, and we started talking. He was charismatic, handsome, charming, goofy in a disarming way. He wasn’t cocky — he was magnetic.

We dated. It started slow. I introduced him to my son as “my friend.” He started staying over. And not long after, he just… stayed. He moved in during the pandemic. We adopted a cat. He brought his dog. My home became his home.

My son adored him. He played with him, taught him to ride a bike, watched Pokémon, helped with schoolwork, tickled him to sleep. He let my son call him “dad.” Not because I asked him to — but because he chose to fill that role.

But behind the scenes, I was carrying everything.

He didn’t work. Didn’t clean. Didn’t help. I paid the bills. I raised my son. I held the household together. Even when he finally got a job, he still didn’t contribute. He spent his money on gym food, protein powders, pre-workout, supplements. Once, he even bought an illegal monitor lizard and smuggled it from the U.S. and he sometimes bought dog food.

I asked for a break. I needed space. He agreed. Took a few things. Said it wasn’t forever.

That night, I got a message from another woman.

She said: “Hi, I think you’re his girlfriend. I didn’t know he was living with someone. We’ve been dating for a month.”

I fell apart. I lost 20 pounds. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I was humiliated and heartbroken.

During that time, I started talking to someone else — a kind man, let’s call him Fernando. He was gentle. Supportive. Patient. I wasn’t even ready to date, but he showed up for me during one of the darkest chapters of my life.

But when Daniel found out I was seeing someone else?

He snapped.

He cried. Threw rocks at my window. Begged to come back. Said we were his family. That it was me he loved. That she meant nothing. That he was lost and wanted to change.

And I — still in love, still hoping it wasn’t all fake — let him back in.

That was my biggest mistake.

We had a chaotic night that ended with us in a holding cell. I won’t say why — just that my dad had to pay to get him out. And in that cold, grim place, Daniel proposed. Just kneeled out of nowhere.

I said, “Not like this. Not now.”

Later, he took me to meet his family. He bought me a ring. He told everyone we were getting married — including my own family. He even said what month we’d do it.

Then, on a trip to Sayulita, something happened. A man I genuinely thought was gay complimented my eyelashes and kissed me — I pulled away immediately, but Daniel saw. He never gave me the ring after that. He never let it go.

I later found out that I got pregnant on that trip.

I had an abortion. I was scared. Emotionally alone. And Daniel? He didn’t comfort me. He didn’t cry. He didn’t hold me.

He just looked… relieved.

Not long after, we went to Puerto Vallarta. Daniel had broken his foot, and I pushed him in a wheelchair for the entire trip. I was exhausted — emotionally, physically, spiritually.

One night, I got blackout drunk and kissed someone. I didn’t remember anything. I only knew what happened because Daniel told me. And I hated myself for it. I still do.

Then Daniel found messages from an old ex. Emotional messages. Things I should’ve let go of. He read them silently. Held onto them for days. Then, when we had friends over — people I didn’t even know — he snapped.

“Shut up. No one’s talking to you.”

It stunned me. His friend stood up, told him not to speak to me like that, and they fought. Afterward, that same friend pulled me aside and asked if Daniel always treated me this way.

I started to wonder: Had I been ignoring the signs?

That night, Daniel exploded. Screamed at me. Called me a whore. Accused me of sleeping with my ex. Said he had read the messages. But what killed me was how long he sat on it. Pretending. Waiting.

But things changed. We weren’t intimate anymore. He always had an excuse — his stomach, his head, he was tired, he had to go to the gym early. I started feeling rejected. Small. Like my desire for closeness was a problem.

We even went to a sex therapist. He said he couldn’t get it up. But I knew in my gut it wasn’t physical — it was emotional.

He had checked out.

Then came the Six Flags photos.

A few people had seen them. One of them messaged me and said:

“Hey, I know you’ve been in a long-term relationship with this guy. It doesn’t seem like you’re in an open relationship, and honestly, it doesn’t seem like you’re that kind of girl. A lot of people know about this. This isn’t the first time he’s done it — he keeps doing it with other girls. I just thought you should know.”

Attached were several pictures.

No face — but I saw his new shoes, his pants, a girl’s legs in shorts, and most of all — his 49ers poncho, worn inside-out. Gray side out, red bleeding through the seams.

I knew instantly. It wasn’t a guess. It wasn’t a hunch. It was him.

When I confronted him, he said: “Everyone wears those shoes.” “Those aren’t even the same pants.” “That’s just a blanket — not the poncho.”

He gaslit me. Hard. Again.

But I had finally come to terms with it.

I messaged the girl: “Hi, I’m his girlfriend. I just want to know what’s going on.”

She never replied. I blocked her.

Then I told my roommate I was going to confront him — that I’d come to terms with the truth.

That night, Daniel came home. He lay on the bed eating chips.

I said, “We need to talk.”

He sat up. I told him I’d messaged her.

He changed instantly. No more begging. Just cold detachment.

“We’re not good together.” “I need to be alone.” “Don’t act like you’ll forgive me if I tell the truth.” “I’ve heard that before.”

He started packing. I tried to stop him. He ran. I chased him to his car. Blocked it. He hit the gas until I moved. I ran to the window.

“Please talk to me. Please.”

He sneered: “Yeah, right.”

I said: “If you tell me the truth, everything can be okay.”

He snapped: “I’ve heard that before.”

Because I had once told him that’s how I got the truth from my son’s father. He remembered — and he threw it in my face.

He drove off.

After that, I found out he’d been dating her for two months already. While sleeping in my bed. Eating my food. Letting my son call him “dad.”

My son messaged him. Just once.

He never replied.

He didn’t just ghost me. He ghosted a child.

He left his broken car in my garage for over a month like I was his storage unit. He only came back for it when my roommate threatened to tow it.

That day, he hugged me. Kissed my forehead. Told me it was “both our faults.” Blamed me for things I won’t repeat. Tried to make us “even.”

Then he said:

“I didn’t want to give the remote back. It was the only thing that gave me hope.” “I’m not dead yet.” “I’ll come back. I’ll talk to your son. I’ll make things right.”

He never came back.

And just this week — almost two years later — I found the letters. The drawings. The Father’s Day notes. All the letters I wrote him.

He used to keep them in his drawer.

Now they were shoved in the laundry room. Hidden.

He didn’t take them.

He left them — like he left us.

He didn’t just break my heart.

He destroyed a child’s sense of safety, and walked away like it meant nothing.

This is my story. It’s messy. It’s ugly. But it’s real.

And I’m done carrying it alone.

Back in 2019, I was broken up by my ex which pretty much destroyed me. Well, long story short...2 years later I met someone and against my best judgement we entered a relationship.

Today that relationship ended and, just like last time right before the 4 year mark. Except this time...it was pretty much mutual and while I did fight to the very end it was out of stubbornness. I was checked out for a while now. And while I do feel sad I didn't expected this huge relief.

You see, Patty was, deep down, a good person. That's why I took a chance with her and ended up together for almost 4 years. But from day one, she showed some serious SERIOUS emotional problems.

Patty had a temper. A really bad temper. Any kind of frustration or, god forbid, criticism was responded with evil eyes, silent treatment or outbursts. Communication was very difficult. It was really ridiculous. It did improve after the first year. But it was always a problem until our last fight that lead to the break-up. In the end, she herself faced the fact she was hurting me bad. I had developed major anxiety when I was with her and walked on egg shells constantly. By the end I developed stress migraines and even had some panic attacks when talking with her.

Patty was also the most negative person I know. Everything was awful for her. She hated Easter, she hated Christmas, she hated birthdays. She didn't like much to socialize and that caused my own social relations to deteriorate. Every time we talked she was complaining about something. Her parents, her coworkers, her school, everything. This was a woman that in the 4 years we dated went through 5 different jobs. All ended the same way. Everything was awful, everyone was out to get her and she eventually quit all of them. The last one she quit without an alternative and dedicated herself to school. Everything was awful, everything was bad. And when I was trying to be positive she would constantly drive my mood down. She didn't make a single effort. She was seeing a psychologist since before I met her. A year ago she told her she couldn't help her and she had to see a psychiatrist. She refused, she said she didn't like psychiatrists that they would only medicate her. I actually gave her an ultimatum which I eventually didn't follow, to my regret.

She had no hobbies and no interests. I tried to show her movies and shows and she did like a few. At home she watched...zero. Still, she was always complaining she was too stressed when all she did was revisiting the stuff from the job that day and didn't take a second for herself. Oh wait, she did. She liked to read. I actually showed her Orwell's 1984. She couldn't go past the first chapter. All she read was self-help books from questionable charlatans and acted like it was literature.

She did had her good things, of course. But I wonder if it was even worth it. I wasted 4 years on this out of my own stubbornness. I feel fine for now but I can feel the up and downs coming. As soon as I start to miss our routines and familiarity I will get very sad. But when I do all I have to do is remember the outbursts, the childish discussions that went nowhere and the constant negativity. Right now...I actually feel relief.

Hi. I’m a Christian Polish (and Dutch) man (20M) who’s been outright terrible for years. I, like other people I’ve known, have been rather traditional. Patriotic and bigoted, you know the type. However, there was one thing I always thought was wrong with me: I’m attracted to men.

I always kind of liked this one man, my friend Greg, platonically and eventually romantically, as much as I hated to admit it.

I really liked him since we started to talk when we were 15. I saw him as a guy I could rely on. Greg is smart, funny, sweet, amazing really. I clung to him. He was my best friend. In fact, he was the one who helped me discover I liked men.

I’m nothing compared to him and I never will be much.

I’ve tried getting close to Greg. I tell him how smart he is, he lies back that I’m as smart as he is. I told him we should live together one day.

But I have mental health issues. I push people away and don’t think I’m good enough to have them.

Quite recently, Greg has shown some interest in me. Of course, I didn’t like that and pushed him away. I bullied him and talked behind his back after finding out he moved on and had a girlfriend.

When he broke up with her, I decided to give it another try and started being nicer again and trying to get closer. I thought he was an asshole and decided to forget it when I found out he yet again got a NEW girlfriend. Regretfully, I was mean to him right before again and now he has someone. I’m destined to be alone and I deserve it because of my mental health.

I’ve shoved him, screamed at him, et cetera. You can react, give advice, ask questions, I don’t really mind.

What i mean with the title is: Mothers often feel as if they can't be successful themselves, due to their role as a mother. So, they try to make their child(ren) "successful" in their place. What that entails is a strict, hierarchical upbringing and a lot of "discipline" for the child(ren). As a direct consequence, the child(ren) have significantly reduced Quality Of Life, to the point of many committing suicide, and as such they are definitely a thing that can end lifes, or personal worlds (for the children). As such, they are clearly one of the "horsemen of the apocalypse".

I have a couple of them, but to be honest I'm not even sure if I like them more, or less, than rubber membrane keyboards. There's kind of a sharpness to the sounds they usually produce, almost a kind of plastic-on-plastic squeek, and I find that unpleasant. If I could afford it, or if they were affordable, I might give a Topre keyboard a try, but to be honest I really don't care enough about keyboards to worry about that.

The only reason I get mechanical keyboards is because those are often the only ones with n-key rollover. It's all about the games. It's wild to me that being able to press more than 3 keys simultaneously is still not standard in all keyboards, and it drives me crazy that the vast majority of built-in laptop keyboards have this problem.

Avert your eyes:

spoiler

I also think chiclet keyboards are perfectly fine... except again, the lack of key rollover.

So a lot of this I recognize has more to do with me than others, but wanted to get it out somewhere.

I haven't had much luck in finding any particular community/group that I feel comfortable with. Feels like I'm the downer/buzzkill for not being as enthusiastic or knowledgeable in some contexts, or a shill/fan for not being as negative enough in others.

My interests tend to be pretty broad and never dwelling on much enough for many. I'm not interested in getting hyped up over new stuff, or caught up only in criticizing it either. More often than not I'm trying to thread the needle to appreciate what I can from things and criticize what I can't, backing away and trying to find more stuff to explore.

In the process I end up with various niche pieces of knowledge while being a bit out of tune with some pop culture/entertainment stuff. (i mean how else would i have found myself here)

I dunno where I'm going with this, but sometimes it feels like I'm either walking on eggshells among the passionate or bounced between rocks of an enthusiastic river's rapids when trying to find community. Yet I still can't help occasionally feeling like I should try to find some kinda community out there, and that's probably the most onerous tension of it all.

She's one of my former workmates from my second-to-last job. She's a fucking weirdo, but she's my kind of weirdo. All grim and trash Goth, deals with crystals and Wiccan stuff, which I like as lore and nothing more, but I love about her. She annoys me in all the right ways.

We had instant rapport, and my jaw was on the floor the moment I saw her. Wasn't just me, you could hear chins hitting plywood all across the office. And rightfully so, she's... forcefully beautiful and raw, don't know how else to put this. She has such a way about her, she's almost aggressively herself and knows what she's got, a very earthy person. I still don't know why I had the courage to even broach an interaction with her, but I'm glad I did, because my gut was right.

We had a rough friendship for the first couple of years. I struggled to reconcile the fact that I was falling desperately in love with her with the deepening bond of genuine friendship which developed. Luckily, my desire to see her happy trumped my myriad wants and I reached a precarious balance with this stuff, which I'm still somewhat maintaining. We went from long stretches of time during which we went out almost every day, either the two of us or with our work group, and equally long stretches of time where we didn't even text each other for, I think, even a year.

I've been a dick to her more times than I want to admit. I understand why I dropped so low as to splash a bit of my shit on her, but I still feel so ashamed of it every time we see each other now. We also had sex once, after emptying a litre of gin between us. The last thing I remember was sharing our suffering, then she was on top of me and we kissed. Then it's just flashes of disbelief and emotional (yes, just that) fulfilment of a sort, but they're just the backdrop to some incredibly blurry snippets of memories. I didn't feel proud of it the next day. I did one of the stupidest things I believed I never would do with one of my dearest friends, whom I love so much beyond friendship, that an immense sense of respect is intrinsic to everything. I can't believe the level of complete self-abandon I've allowed myself to reach with her.

And I can't believe that we're still interacting, that we've even grown a lot closer since then. And, yeah, I love her. It's as clear as day to me now, I've grown to love this woman. Deeply. Voraciously. She's been there with me through some of my worst mistakes, as I've been there for hers. I genuinely don't think anyone else alive really knows me as much as she does. We've seen each other ugly-cry multiple times and our arms know each other's anguish. We've seen each other brought low and defeated, denuded of pride and dignity. And that just made us draw each other closer in, somehow.

I'd be lying if I said that this whole thing didn't scare the crap out of me. I can feel the pangs of lack still going strong after all of these years. It's the knowing, the understanding that we'll never cuddle, I'll never get to wake up to her, to kiss her lips, to devour her, to more constantly bask in her presence - this is not just a pretentious metaphor, I genuinely feel like I imagine a lizard feels on a hot rock under a glaring sun. There are moments when it drives me up the walls, I'll be honest. It's why I won't allow myself to drink with her ever again. It's why I'll never agree to spend the night over ever again, even if it means sleeping on park benches. I don't want to even risk doing anything to endanger our friendship, because I don't want to picture my life without her in it in one form or another.

Edit for clarity, I'm talking about when someone holds their sword in the grip where the blade is pointed along the forearm, instead of the usually grip, where it's an extension of your arm. I clearly don't know how much general knowledge people have about swords.

Bit of a rant here. It's like the smallest of nitpicks. It's not a big deal. But I also wish people in charge of how swords in media are handled had to just hold a sword for an hour, because it's immediately obvious how impractical that technique is.

I've had a medium amount of sword handling in my life which is probably why it bothers me so much. Minor amount of 16th century swordplay, 4 years of fencing, half a year with Kung Fu sword form. Not an expert, but enough to know how the muscles work. Holding it backwards puts a huge amount of strain on the wrong part of the forearm, forget blocking or deflecting, shorten your effective range by almost the entire of the sword. You might as well just be punching the dude.

Technically you could argue for some amount of reverse grip. Could potentially catch someone off guard, but also they could just stab you. With a short blade an icepick grip is entirely viable. That's not generally how it's presented, it's depicted as a main character style that implies more skill than the usual plebeians.

It just bothers the fuck out of me. I know nobody cares, and I feel like guns are misused much worse in media. But fuck me it's so annoying every time it comes up.

I’m German. The USA made it possible for me to grow up in a functional democracy.
Hundreds of thousands of Americans died so I could have that privilege.
They died fighting for my unborn ass's rights, against my grandparents' fellows.
Fortunately, my grandparents weren’t involved in killing them, but that was pure chance.
Growing up, the USA was the shining beacon in the west.
The country that was so much better, freer and cooler than mine.
I learnt English listening to American Forces Network, the radio station of the US armed forces in Germany, every night.
Literally my main goal in life was to be able to one day move to the USA and become a citizen.
I lived in the USA for one year pre-9/11 and could hardly wait to finish my studies and maybe one day acquire a Green Card.
But after 2001 (damn, that’s already 24 years ago), it started to turn.
I celebrated when the German chancellor refused to support the USA in the illegal invasion of Iraq.
Then I stayed up every night, watching the live footage from the reporters embedded with the invasion forces.
It was awesome. It was awful.
Nowadays it’s just the latter.
Trump v1 was a fluke, Trump v2 put the USA on the same level as Russia for me.
(I know enough Russians to know the situation is comparable. Russians aren’t one single bit more evil or more complacent than US Americans in 2025. And neither are Chinese.)

tl/dr: Trump’s second term has absolutely obliterated my belief in the USA.
Sorry for the rant, I’m a bit drunk and frustrated with…vaguely gestures at everything.

Yeah having a job is So Grown for me, a worthless thing below society, but not having a job makes me a burden. Showering is So Fancy but not showering makes me a burden. Doing my chores and being responsible is So Wannabe Grown but if I don't do them I'm a burden. What is the point of living if I get bullied for everything I do because it's "trying to be grown" at fucking 26 years old? Right it's so funny that I want to be grown up so badly that I work a job and take care of my body, that's so fucking funny. I really should have killed myself when I originally wanted to at 7 to spare myself from twenty more years of the same bullying and abuse.

This happened a few years ago. Life eventually found a way and I'm doing good. But from time to time I still remember this and get angry/sad.

A few years ago I found a great group of friends. It was one the happiest times of my life and I still cherish those memories. Not long after I joined it I started going out with a girl and we were together for about 4 years. The group eventually settled in all couples and a single friend who I'll call Peter (the incel of this story). I call him an incel but he was far from being one back then. He often went out with girls and had a few flings though nothing serious (by his own choice).

Peter smoked a lot of pot and, with time, it took a toll on his social skills. Often he was too high to have any kind of "game" and he ended up in a rut. After a year he found himself orbiting a younger girl who wanted nothing with him. Lets call her Mary. Mary made out with him once when she was drunk out of her mind and regreted it. She told him she was not interested but he never took the hint. At about the same time my girlfriend broke up with me and my world fell appart.

To say I was devastated is putting it mildly. But that's not that story I'm telling today. While I was devastated I did accept it was over and desperately wanted to move on. And by moving on I mean sleep with a lot of women. And as recently single, me and Peter quickly gravitated to become each other's wing men. We often stayed out late partying and bonded through our common single life. I vented about my ex while he also vented about Mary. To his credit, in those first few months he was very supportive and a good friend.

Not long after, though, something started going very very wrong. Peter always had this major crush about a girl in our group, Patty. It was very weird. Patty had stopped hanging out with us often not long after I came by. She lived with her long-term boyfriend and slowly stopped going out as much. She and Peter were great friends and he would drop everything whenever she came out. Not surprisingly he was very cold with her boyfriend. He never went out though, to my annoyance since he's a great guy.

Not long after I became single Patty started going out a bit more (not because of me). I enjoyed it because I always liked her and she was always a very easy person to talk to. I never saw her as anything other than a friend and vice-versa. Well, you can see where this is going. Peter started getting extremely paranoid that I was putting my moves on her. The mere insinuation I was putting my moves on a girl in a relationship (with a guy I like, no less) offended me. Once he totally went on on me because I was talking to her for 30 minutes straight and he felt, and I quote, that my body language was of someone flirting with her. Mind you, this guy wasn't even worried about her boyfriend, he was just pissed because he somehow though I was stealing his crush. This came to point where he actually made an ultimatum that if I was his friend I would never speak to her again. Yes, you read right. And I actually acquiesced since I was so emotionally fragile to protest. By this time I had gone into a deep depression because of my ex and started doing therapy.

It didn't stop with Patty. After that a pattern emerged. We would go out and he would get infatuated with girls that weren't interested in him and basically call dibs on each one. He would approach them high out of his mind and creep them out and when he saw them actually enjoying my company he would get angry. One of them, lets call her Lisa, I met her a bit before he did. I practically introduced them. She was actually the one that convinced me to go to therapy for my depression. Once we were going home after a night out and chatting about politics and I mentioned I had talked about that with Lisa and he completely lost his mind. In his words, I was a shit friend because he had told me he liked her a lot and as soon as I knew that I should've never talked to her again. Mind you, while I was interested in her at first, I had realized I was in no condition to have anything with her the way I was, and I had gave up on that idea long before I introduced them. I still was her friend though. This time I stood my ground and when he started getting agressive I turned my back on him and left.

The next day, after sobering up, he messaged me apologizing. He was honest and admitted he had a unhealthy fixation with some women, especially Patty but now also Lisa. That he didn't mean to lose me as friend, and yada yada yada. I forgave him. It was fine for a while. Until I started slowly realizing he was trying to keep me appart. We met new people (among them Lisa) and they would invite us to go out with them. They would talk to him first and tell him to pass the message to me and he would...forget. I started catching him on those lies. I would meet them around and they'd be surprised to see me and ask why didn't I come with them if I was in town. Until one time Lisa invited me directly and came to pick me up. When Peter saw me arrive with her he looked like he ate a lemon. I didn't take it personally and moved on.

Until one night I was supposed to meet him and he ghosted me. I didn't think much of it. As far as I knew he got lucky and I should just count him out for the night. I went out by myself and, guess what, we crossed paths again and once again was greeted by confused "I thought you were staying home". I was having a bad night and this time I couldn't hide my hurt. I turned my back and just left. A friend (not from that group) found out and went to my place to comfort me. She told me not to stay home moping and just go to the bar I was planning to go (where Peter would most likely end up) and just have fun. And that I did. When I got there Peter, Lisa and the others were already there. I just calmed myself and went there and asked to talk to Peter. I calmly told him what I was feeling. That I was feeling left out and he was giving the vibe of trying to keep me out himself. I expected to hear a "nooo, that's all in your head". I didn't. He admitted everything. He said to my face I was ruining his chances with Lisa (which only he thought he had) and he was trying to drive me out since she gave me too much attention. He also told me to go fuck myself and flipped me off to my face. I immediately turned my back on him and went to another group. I was done. He went back to Lisa, drunk out of his mind, all hopeful tonight was the night.

You see, what he didn't know is that Lisa knows what she wants. And it wasn't him. She likes to party. But she especially likes to party with Tony. Tony is this great good-looking guy whose smile could melt a glaciar. And he also happens to be a pretty cool chap. Lisa likes to get on with other guys casually. But Tony...Tony makes her legs shake and I had watched that happen a few times before. So, Peter is looking at Lisa like she's his future wife. He's shinning like the sun and smiling like it's the best day of his life even though he just told one of his best friends to go fuck himself. She's having a nice time too. I'm having fun with another friend and watching this scene unfold from the corner of my eye. And Tony comes in looking like a million dollars. In less than 5 minutes Lisa is grabbing him like he's food and literally throwing herself at him. Peter face just fell. And I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. I actually laughed though discretely. I got myself a drink and just like that Lisa and Tony where gone. Probably went to church. And I never saw anyone so defeated and so ridiculous as Peter at that moment. He tried to play it off but I could tell his heart had just broken into a million pieces. He bet everything on Lisa, even his friendship, to see it blow it on his face while he saw me watching it. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. And then Mary comes in. Remember her? Yeah...now I did felt sorry for him, no matter what he had just did. I remember saying out loud "ooi...that's much, that's cruel". If could've helped him then I would've.

Naturally, in his despair he tried to get lucky with her and she brutally rejected him. She wouldn't have if she had seen what had happened with Lisa. Mary is a doll but she was done with Peter and he had almost stalked her a few months before. He ended up drinking himself comatose and had to be carried out in the end. I actually helped carry him.

He probably felt very stupid the next day. A few days after that I messaged me if I was going out but I left him on read. But we still had common friends (not the Lisa group, the old ones) so I never actually stopped talking to him. But he was mostly relegated to an acquaintance. I was civil, even nice, but always kept a safe distance.

One friend in particular, John, was the main reason we still hanged. John was a childhood friend, he was actually the one who introduced me to that old group. John and Peter are best friends. Peter idolizes John. John plays in a band, is VERY popular with the ladies. He was one the few people who had seen Peter's obsession with Patty and he was actually present when I was given the ultimatum. While he though Peter was going too far he advised me to do what he wanted to keep the peace.

You guys can see I like telling details...but there aren't much in the end of this story. The pandemic came. We started gathering at people's places when it ease up and Peter started inviting everybody to his place. Obviously I was left out. He even started inviting my ex out of nowhere when they hadn't talked with her since the break-up. Because of that I had a fallout with John and we never talked again. I just let it go. It caused a relapse in my depression but I jumped right back up. Word out on the street is...I fell out with Peter because of a girl I liked. Yeah. I don't care that much what people think. Truth eventually comes out. The people who mattered stood by me. I found I had a few great friends I never knew about. Most people aren't angry with me but since they were friends with John and Peter longer, they stood by them. They still say hello when we cross paths and are happy to see me. But I let myself stay away and maybe it was for the best. I still think about it sometimes and that's why I end up writing shit like this. I hope Peter burns in hell. He's vile and he'll be as miserable as he deserves. I miss John and still defend him when people talk shit about him. I've been with someone else for years now and life moves on.

Most people will probably disagree and say that I shouldn't be here if I don't like it, but yeah, like the title said. I switched over from Reddit for various reasons, and at first it was nice, but now it's making me depressed just casually browsing Lemmy. Everything here is so drab and negative, sometimes even downright hateful. Everything sucks, here's a list of companies you should never use, here's people that do horrible things, here's a bunch of complaints about stuff. This is why the world sucks, this is why your favourite thing is actually stupid, this is why you shouldn't enjoy xyz anymore.

At least half of the content on Lemmy is about American politics or how they affect the rest of the world, even on meme and shitpost subs you can't escape from the constant barrage of politically charged content. And when it's not American politics it's American lifestyle, like I get that america dominates the internet but I sincerely do not give a shit about your egg prices or your celebrities when I'm browsing memes to wind down.

And on top of that there's a distinct arrogance that permeates the fediverse, where people act like they're better than others for being conscious, and you're stupid for not boycotting 99 percent of brands and eating vegan and ditching cars and using european FOSS applications on refurbished Linux devices, etc.

Honestly I'm baffled when people ask stuff like "why don't more people join Lemmy?" Because I honestly would not recommend it to my friends. While it's nice in some ways, it is also so very exhausting, and for me personally, worse for my mental health than Reddit ever was.

Rant over and obligatory disclaimer: I did not mean to insult anyone, I don't have anything against the ideologies and lifestyles mentioned in my post, I simply wanted to share my personal opinions.

I've always thought ghosting was a terrible thing to do to someone, and now that I've experienced it for the first time I know for sure how fucked up it is.

We went on multiple dates and everything was going great (or was it? that's the type of doubt ghosting puts in your head), we had no issues in person or in text, but more than no issues we seemed to have a lot of chemistry and things in common. Then one day she never texted me back again. I spend a fucking week agonizing over it. Will she text me back? Maybe she's just busy! (Too busy to take 30s from her week to say "Hey, I'm a bit busy and don't feel like texting. I'll let you know when I have time"?) Should I text her again or is it better to wait? I did text her once more - a few days after, when I saw something that I wanted to share with her and thought it was a good opportunity to restart the conversation, give her another chance to reply. She never responded.

I've seen so many excuses for it, and none of them are valid. Maybe two:

1. You are in an actively abusive relationship and so you just disappear.

2. You are in a comma.

No other reason justifies it. Afraid the other person won't take it well? You can still block them afterwards and go no contact, but that's not ghosting anymore because you actually gave them closure. I doubt any psycho out there is thinking "damn, they ghosted me. I guess they really mean it then, as opposed to if they just told me they're not interested anymore". Some people say "I don't owe anyone anything" - yeah, neither does anyone else, but we still hold doors for strangers because it's the decent fucking thing to do, jackass. Just like it's basic fucking curtsy to tell someone when you're no longer interested in talking to them instead of leaving them to figure it out.

One way or another, I have to deal with the rejection. The difference is that if I get ghosted then I also have to go through a horrible period of agony before dealing with the rejection (how long varies case by case), and in the end there's also humiliation on top. Humiliation that comes from the realization that while I was agonizing over her, she had probably already forgotten me and moved on. It's humiliating and makes it me feel like trash.

And it's fucking poisonous as well. At least if the connection was short lived and all positive, because there's no negative to grab on to. All my memories of the situation are positive. Or at least they seemed that way to me, but this is the kind of poisonous toxic doubt that ghosting leaves you in. Because I can't think of any negatives, now I'm paranoid about what I might have said or done, and whenever I go on another date I'll be hyper-aware and super self conscious about everything I do and say. I won't be able to fully relax and be myself, and if it happens again I might just ended shielding myself and become incapable of making connections out of a fear it will keep happening.

The only certainties I have is that the last week was agony, and now I'll carry the scar with me for at least the next few dates I go on. For some people these periods of time are much longer.

And all this could have been solved with a simple "Hey, I'm sorry but I'm not really interested in pursing this anymore, so I want to end things here." If she had done that, I could have gone through the grieving period a week ago and completely skipped the agony and trust issues.

But do you know what the real sad thing is? Who the real fucking loser is? Me. Because if tomorrow she messaged be with some bullshit excuse and asked me to meet again, I'd probably agree to it in a heart beat and shove the memories of this past week deep down, along with all feelings relating to it.

Fuck ghosts.

I created my lemmy account just for this, I really need some help and have been unable to post elsewhere.

Hi. I'm 26yo F. I've been with my BF (27M) for over 3 years. Our relationship has been, hard. It has been good but gone through many difficulties. First was his mom, who was an abusive controlling bitch, until I pushed him to go no contact with her, and then she died from an infection. Then we had problem because of the lack of sex, and I didn't like how he was behaving with me, he was getting too controlling and I was always on edge. We eventually solved it, he improved a lot, and our relationship was good again, now he is not controlling over me, but I still got some little ptds from those days so I resort to not tell him things to avoid conflict.

He is not all bad, he is nerdy, caring, and I know for sure he is not cheating on me (he barely goes out of the house). I have recently moved in with him because now there's a functioning car that allows me to get to work. I was living with my mom, and I'm glad I'm not living there anymore, because I have to suppress myself a lot when I'm with her. I am more free with my BF. But I feel I'm not as free as I could, for example, if I just wanna dress up in the house, he looks annoyed, because if I dress up it means I'm not doing house chores, and he always insists on doing house chores, he does chores since he wakes up, till he goes to sleep, and when he is not doing chores, he is playing videogames, watching anime, or studying. So, I only dress up when I'm alone because I don't want him to nag me. Like, if I do my nails, they get instantly ruined for doing the dishes or washing something else. I was unable to do that at my mom's house too because she never had nothing good to say.

Also, we haven't had sex in what I think is already a full year, he never feels like it, doesn't take hints, if I straight up tell him I want sex, he says "we will do it tonight" but it never happens. I'm feeling touch starved, I have spoken to him about this but he doesn't care. I wanna experiment and try exciting things, but he is so vanilla that can't even convince him to have sex in other place that is not the bed (literally), or other position that is not me on top and he's doing basically nothing.

I'm feeling frustrated because of this, he says he wants me, but I don't feel affection anymore.

Now, for the title. Some weeks ago I needed an SD card for doing some tech stuff, I was looking around the house and found a 32GB sd cards that I bought a while ago and stopped using. I took it and plugged it into my computer to see what was there before erasing it. I discovered it had lots of porn. Not really a surprised, I know the kind of porn he likes, so I started checking what was there, nothing really surprising. However, there was also a lot of Hentai and R34 art. And yes, there's a lot of characters that are, in cannon, underage. Not really surprising since I know he reads tons of fanfics, but there was a lot of R34. There there was another folder, inside the SD card, with random letters as its name. I went into it, and at first sight looks sus.

I was checking the images and videos, and I was thinking... some of the people there looks... young. I'm not new to the internet, I know teen content is a thing and some people going into the industry being barely legal to sell twisted fantasies. I know about porn, I even tried to get in once when I was younger but never really made it and in retrospect, I'm glad. But then I kept looking, some of the people there looked really young and some videos had terrible quality and were only a few seconds long, which means, are crappy old home made videos, instead of a real production, which, is extremely sus. I'm a tech person, I've done cyber security, and this was ringing all of my alarms. Then I found one that made me said... that's... a child. Then another one, that also, was, 100% a child. And another, and another. And then, I saw one that was... a toddler, and another one. I was frozen, started crying, and just, sat there in disbelieve. I still can't really believe it. It wasn't a huge collection, but some combined tens of images and videos, mixed with R34 and even AI images of, you guessed it, children.

After my initial shock, I took the SD card of my computer and put it back in the same place I found it at. I tried to do something else to ease my mind until my bf came home some hours later, and I just acted like everything was normal, he eventually picked up on me being a bit moody but I've been moody for some time because of the lack of affection in our relationship. BTH sleeping in the same bed was a bit hard, I stayed up late and then went to bed next to him like normal.

I think there's no love left for me, but, the relationship is on the surface, good, my mom likes him, his family likes me and welcome me, materially we are doing ok, we are even getting better in some aspects material aspects, I finally feel like have stability while not depending on my mom for anything. I don't have money to afford my own place, I barely have any friends, I don't have a car, I have my own job. I just finished moving in and I don't feel like I have somewhere else to go, if I go back to my mom's house, it will be more years of repressing myself and not being me, I'm in the second half of my 20's and I feel like I have accomplished little to nothing on my own. In my country is almost impossible to safe to get a place alone because of the economy and our low salaries. So, I know how Reddit is, I know would be very easy for some to tell me to move out and get away, but... I don't have how, in fact, my account is literally in 0 today because I own money to the bank. And I don't mean going and getting a 2 stories house with 4 bedrooms, no, a single bedroom apartment is unaffordable unless you have rich parents.

I can't go to the police, because the police in my country is beyond useless, the only thing they do is try to extort money (in bribes) from people for small infractions and they act like gangs, criminal investigations don't get anywhere, and there is just no point because, again, where would I go after that?

I feel like staying with him is better than going back to my mom, but at the same time, I feel trapped, pretending that things are ok in the relationship, feeling numb, feeling like I can't be myself at the house because he gets annoyed. And I have absolute no idea what to do. Nothing at all. I wish I could move to another city and start from cero, I'm honestly sick and tired of my city and wanna do something else, he doesn't want that, he wants to stay here, which is thing I'm frustrated about, but again, with what money?

I feel like I can only yell at the clouds because there is nothing else I can do except to continue my days as normal and see what can happen in the future.

Thanks for reading, sorry if is too long but this is all I can do.

TLDR: I'm 26 F and my BF is 27 M. We have been in a relationship for over 3 years and I finally moved in with him. I've been a bit unhappy recently because of the lack of affection and sex, however, I recently discovered an SD card of his and I discovered it has illegal content involving minors. I have no idea what to do because I can't afford to move anywhere, and I can't go back to my mom because would set me back for many more years. I can only pretend everything is ok, and honestly I'm feeling trapped in this relationship, while everything seems good in the surface.

i feel so alone. i don't want to be alone. i think of her every day - every hour, i even wake up thinking of her. she takes hours to answer my texts. often over 12 hours, sometimes over 24h. she is always my first thought in the morning.

i want to hold her hand, feel her lips on mine. i want to go to sleep with her next to me, and wake up looking at the face of someone i love and who loves me back. i want to travel the world, but not alone or with friends. i want to experience new things, but i want to do it with her.

i've always been more romantically inclined, and i've always dreamed of having a wife (or just a serious life-long relationship; marriage itself is irrelevant) and having kids with her. that has always been the purpose of life to me. everything else feels meaningless without a romantic partner to experience it with, or with whom to talk about it. but more specifically, i want her. but i'm still a virgin, i've still never kissed a girl, and i've still never held a girls hand. i'm approaching thirty. i thought she could be it, but she is clearly not as into me as i am her.

sometimes suicide pops into my head. not as a fully formed concrete idea to follow through on, but just the concept, and the idea that i could do it and the misery would end. no more lonely nights - or days either. she'll never want me like i want her, but even if i get over her no one else will want me either.

some people say to work on yourself, and that no one wants to date someone who is depressed or desperate. they don't get it. this is the whole reason i'm depressed. i work out, i eat healthy, i have hobbies. but they are all indoor hobbies. i still have a massive hole in my chest that can't be filled by working on myself. a hole that could only be filled by intimacy and romance with another person. specifically by her. when she replies to me the world is colorful and everything brings me joy. the world is in my hand and I am in control. about 12 hours after waiting for a reply, everything tastes of ashes and nothing can bring me joy or warmth. i have no motivation.

the first and last thing i do each day is check my phone to see if she has replied. it's fucking pathetic. if i get another chance to see her, i will tell her how i truly feel about her. i'm positive it won't be reciprocal, but it's a small chance to fill the hole, or at least maybe i can get closure on her.

i'm going to bed and cry myself to sleep once more, with my last thought before the blackout being her face once again. she is the first woman in at least a decade to really put butterflies in my stomach. the closest i ever came to this were small school crushes.

.

I wanted to create entertainment media, clothes, websites, and a lot more honestly. I also thought of having children but I didn't think I'd ever find someone I actually loved. Well now I'm in a relationship, and children have been discussed multiple times, but I feel like I'm doing everything way too late. I'm 27, finding myself like a tween since I was abused into being a zombie when I was that age.

Everyone else already moved out at 19 and are married at 25 the latest and usually have children around 27. I'm still stuck living with family who bullied and abused me the most and still do today. I really did not want to choose between having children at a better time and experiencing having my own space where I won't be abused for being too comfortable or happy. I really wanted to have my own space I could decorate with things that wouldn't be destroyed by marijuana addicts who are So Enlightened and believe material possessions are meaningless. I wanted to experience having my own apartment originally for 10 years but now at least 5 years.

If I delay any more it'll be way too late to have children. They'll have a much higher chance of having some disability that society would bully them into suicide for having, or they won't have much time with their parents. I don't want to be old and needy while they're still growing either. I also don't want to miss out of creating the things I had planned either. There's no way I could work a job and raise them at the same time either.

I'd be able to do all these things if I were just raised as a kid instead of being locked away in an institution that made me less than dead weight for 10 years, forced to know my place as scum below society whose only value is inspiring actual people to not be outdone by worthless scum for the next 5 years before I dropped out of college, and forced to wait to grow until I wasn't in college anymore. I still hated myself to the point I continued to stagnate until I changed my name which I had to hide from family to avoid more bullying. But they eventually found out and I'm a much bigger joke than I was before.

I hate my family for taking 20 years from me that I'll never get back, and I hate all of society for justifying it, by claiming some stupid disorder that could mean anything could actually exist. What is the point of a disorder that literally only serves as a "Something Happened" error message? Oh right it's so quirky on tiktok and all these real actual people actually raised to be actually contributing members of society who made fun of those short bus kids who are so below them now call themselves that stupid word for clout. I hate this stupid world and honestly I was right when I wanted to die years ago knowing nothing would improve.

Mods: I was unsure if a politics-related rant was ok. If not: sorry!

Over the last month and a little, we've watched the disruption and/or dismantling of key US government programs and agencies - fundamentally undermining the power of Congress and the balance of power in the federal government. We've also started to see the Executive Branch ignore court orders - undermining the Judicial Branch and further erroding the balance of power.

We are watching this happen while our Congressional leaders take no meaningful action. There is no plan to restore balance to the federal government, no call to action for citizens to take, no one steering the ship. Our leaders have failed us in a spectacular way.

How did we get here? Well... everyday Americans are falling behind - driven by low wages, high cost of living, and economic instability. And we are watching big business and the rich influence our leaders in ways that are actively harmful to individual Americans.

In November people were given the option between the status quo or dramatic change. And people voted for change - albeit bad change. Desperate people do desperate things.

But the vast majority of Americans don't want to get rid of democracy. They don't want to break the international order. They don't want someone who doesn't meet the requirements to become president to boss the actual president around.

This is, at its core, a nonpartisan issue. We want the government to work for us again: of the people, by the people, for the people.

On several occasions I've seen or heard people asking "what can we do?" In the absence of direction from our leaders, I thought I'd share specific things that I am asking my representatives to actively support. Maybe, if enough of us ask, we can create the pressure and momentum required to enact change:

Re-assert Congressional power Enact a law (or laws) that increase transparency, demand accountability, and strengthen checks and balances. Override a veto if necessary. Why: this reestablishes the balance of power intended by our founders.

Limit or eliminate political donations Limit maximum annual donations (to candidates, parties, PACs and Super PACs) to $2k/year per entity or person - or get rid of them all together. Why: this ensures that our leaders are influenced by their constituents and not the highest bidder.

Set Congressional term and age limits Limit years in Congressto no more than 20 years and no older that 75. Why: this creates an ongoing rotation of leaders rather than people clinging to power.

These things won't solve all of our problems, but will allow the American people to begin an actual dialogue without influence - from which we can tackle issues affecting the country.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

.

12 hours from now, 11 years ago, I was very nearly killed riding a bicycle to work. I'm partially physically disabled now. Holding posture is very limited for me, but I'm still mobile. Last year I did the same ride on the same route. I ran into someone I worked with that was doing well and it had a disproportionate negative effect to see their success.

For the first 9 years I tried to ignore the anniversary, but that doesn't work well either. I still feel every bit of the pain I felt that day when I woke up in the hospital, so moving on is not an option. I'm a shell of my former self. I'm doing good to ride a bike a couple dozen miles at most and can't stop, sit, or stand for more than a few minutes. Does anyone with experience like this have any suggestions to reduce the dip; to morn one's own death in a more productive way?

EDIT: ESH. I've been an asshole without realising it, and my friends really weren't open about the drama until very recently. I was right, though--I'm terrible at explaining myself. We agree drugs aren't a problem for me, but I should keep discussion light. Kairos--there is a time and a place for everything.

(My app doesn't allow marking posts as NSFW. I don't know whether this should be considered NSFW or not, but I can't mark it anyway. I'll sign in on desktop later, if need be. An admin can also do the courtesy of marking it for me. Thank you, regardless.)

Sorry if this is all a little disorganised.

2025 has been a good year for me, despite everything. I've made my first attempts to meet new people, thanks to guidance from people on this very platform, and things are finally looking up. I feel productive and somewhat healthy. I feel like I'm in a position to help others, even though things look bleak for all of us.

Except for one problem.

I use drugs more than any of my friends. I'm the only one who's done DXM, for instance, and I constantly read about new things to try. I'd do opium, even, given the chance. So, that's the problem, then. I do drugs.

No. No, it isn't, actually.

The actual problem is that I put so much effort into research, so much effort into considering what's actually safe to use, so much effort into making sure I don't overuse them, so much effort into considering doses, so much effort to make sure it doesn't impact others negatively, so much effort. That's despite their history of being upset towards me, and nobody cares. My friends constantly pester me for taking a "dark path", and every argument I make to try to object to that results in me being called some form of disabled, or immature, or stupid. One outlier online even called me multiple slurs, claiming my actual mental disorders are also completely fake.

Here's a good question that should be pretty easy to answer. Which one's hurting me more? The drugs, or the people? Because the problem certainly isn't the one that actually keeps me in a good, level-headed, sane headspace, that I use with care--and absolutely the one causing me all this mental turmoil in the first place.

Drugs are a human right. I have a right to determine what goes in my body, and I've been exceptionally careful, thanks to the help I was never given. I helped myself. I was suicidal, I pursued DIY psychedelic therapy, and now I find myself on a journey that I couldn't be happier with.

Yet none of that is enough.

Perhaps more science than I've provided already will be enough. Maybe the two week break I'm on will satisfy them. Maybe I should spell it out--their drugphobia, and unwillingness to accept different viewpoints, or consider my history, strongly mirrors homophobia and transphobia.

Let me make a point. They all drink alcohol. Alcohol is more addictive, and harmful to the user and others (in the form of drunk driving), and is considerably more dangerous than heroin. Yet, they'll criticise me for using poppers, despite the fact that poppers are considered safer, according to Drug Science, than any other drug they looked in to. That's safer than magic mushrooms, possibly the safest drug in existence, arguably. It's the most widely accepted risk index in the world. Mind you, some of these friends have also used nicotine, too. Also far more dangerous than what I do. I have as well, of course, but I'm considering not using nicotine or alcoholic products ever, not even on occasion. That's in contrast to them. Alcohol hurts the body, and drinking less simply slows the process. None of the drugs I use have such a long-term negative effect.

I'm also the only one that estimates my BAC with a calculator every time, but whatever. Thanks for that suggestion, S.

They have no right to criticise me for the very same thing they do on a regular basis. We even smoke weed, and nobody has a problem with it. Probably because it's not taboo enough.. anymore.

It's hypocrisy, because I've actually been safer than them, despite using a wider variety of substances.

I have a small handful of people who've been actually supportive, including someone I had just met. They applaud me for the effort I've put in to stay safe, and I'm glad to have those kind of people in my life. Some of them have been through incredibly rough patches (it seems like these types are the few with empathy, anymore). Some of them are just open minded. Regardless of their background, though, it's clear that they're far more empathetic than some of the people in my primary friend group.

I'm angry, and it's caused by the very people claiming to "help" me. They aren't helping. They're outright berating and slandering me, and at this point, I'm considering simply dropping them. However, I'm a productive person, and simply walking away from my problems is unacceptable by my standards. There's a peaceful resolution to this, and I intend to find it.

I'm not wrong, am I? As much as I've been gaslit over the years, I still think I can see through it all--through all the self doubt, all the people who claimed I'd never be enough. Despite all of that, I'm not suicidal, or even depressed.

So please tell me I'm right. Thanks for reading all this, if you did.

Having just experienced my first comment removals without any sort of notification or explanation, I was suddenly reminded of how things went down on Reddit during the API thing and people's attitude towards it.

Do you know why the API thing failed to cause a mass exodus? Because the moderators were spearheading it. The same people that have been doing things like setting up automod with buzzwords because they're too busy collecting subs to control to actually do their jobs, and silently removing non rule breaking comments without notification or explanation, and being cold unfriendly dickheads whenever you questioned them; suddenly these assholes were asking us to all join them in solidarity and feel sorry for them over their lost modding tools in 3rd party apps. In fact they did a fantastic job of making it all about themselves without giving many good reasons for the end user. And honestly people cheered when Reddit forcibly removed them.

And it made me realise that a good majority of these moderators that spent years on Reddit campaigning for less transparency and helping to turn it into the shit hole it is now, are probably here on Lemmy.

I don't know where exactly I'm going with this other than to say that I'm seeing things here with new eyes now. Just wanted to get these fun facts off my chest and remind everyone about who we're actually dealing with here.

I spent my whole life experimented on, neglected, bullied; physically, mentally, and emotionally abused, and used to inspire all the actual real people into donating to an institution I was locked away in over a stupid puzzle piece misdiagnosis. My parents did not raise me and my siblings were my first bullies. I was the scapegoat for everything that went wrong. I wasn't allowed to do anything for myself, which made me a burden, but I also wasn't allowed to learn or try them as that made me spoiled and ungrateful.

My mother only wanted money or fame from me. I didn't qualify for free money from the government and I wasn't talented enough to be famous, yet she forced me in so many stupid patronizing performances and crap despite me literally begging her not to. I spent my childhood trying to hide myself and be invisible.

I was in a class of 12 people where only 5 of the kids could actually hold a conversation. One was a bully I was forced to "be friends with". Another loved starting fights over the tiniest things, and was deliberately annoying to incite drama. The others were my friends but they were friends with the bully who isolated me from them whenever I didn't forgive him for bullying me. He bullied my friends as well but they never stood up to him as he had so much power over everyone and made an example out of me. I wanted him gone and made myself unattractive and gross to push him away, but ended up pushing everyone away.

I was treated like a celebrity by everyone in that institution for non-existent "talent" and "intelligence". I knew it was all fake. I was the only black girl who had hobbies, so I was shoved front and center of everything, including performances of other groups. I hated it, I felt like I was wearing a wedding gown at someone else's wedding. I knew it was unfair to the other kids in my group who never got to be the main character, narrator, or soloist; and to the other groups who were afterthoughts in their own performances. I wanted that to stop, before I hated it for the extra attention I got, I hated it for how unfair it was to everyone. But all the staff called my spoiled and ungrateful for having this "privilege" no one else got, while also making me feel (more) guilty for taking the spotlight away from everyone for 10 years.

Life was sitting on a short bus for 2 hours, sitting in the same desk for 7 hours, then sitting for 2.5 hours on the short bus to go home and lie in bed staring at the ceiling. Weekends were spent lying in bed daydreaming if I wasn't on a laptop or game console, if I'm at home, otherwise I'm trapped in grocery stores for fifteen hours for my mother to buy herself thousands of dollars worth of food she eats less than 1% of and wastes the rest of. Gym class was rarer then winning the lottery five consecutive times, and most of the time gym became "yoga" where we sat at the same assigned desk and stretched our arms for five minutes.

This drove me insane but everyone assumed it was the stupid puzzle piece that progressed like cancer. I originally wanted kill myself when I was 7, but I made the mistake of drawing it out on the chalkboard: stabbing myself in front of an oncoming train, getting hit by it, cops arriving and shooting my body to make sure I'm dead, then the entire world celebrating "Finally, It's Gone!!!" I was hospitalized and then grounded for months for wasting my mother's time and money spent on transit.

I should have actually died, instead of continuing to live as scum less human than a rat, where all the love and friendship I experienced was fake, every compliment was backhanded, and all criticism was vague so I can't improve. I should have died instead of being used to show actual humans that scum can accomplish things almost as well as actual people. I should have died instead of being a burden I did not need to be as I could have had a real childhood if I were given a chance at life, if I were seen as a human being instead of that stupid puzzle piece. It does not matter what I accomplish today, I will always be better off dead, and I will always suffer until I finally die. My family wanted me gone for being a dependent burden and being crazy from experiencing "school". My high school and college, after the institution, wanted me gone for almost being raped so many times, and because they're scared of that stupid puzzle piece. I really should have just been a stillborn baby, euthanized upon the misdiagnosis, or dead at 7. I should have just not drawn the plan, and went for it back when I believed in god and thought I'd see my late dog in heaven.

I'm one of the lucky people for actually getting out of that shit, going to a real high school, and working. So many other children stayed in that shithole until they aged out, or were moved into the group home attached to it, where disgruntled underpaid former high school bullies take out their anger on what they view as a "lucky" person who can't work. Their lives were destroyed before they could even start, and their corpses are kept alive until they die of suicide or a drug overdose as a result of the staff trying to make them convenient. Society will never love the mentally disabled. The few who actually live their children are the smallest minorities. When will you realize we still have eugenics, just cruelly slower and infinitely more painful than a lethal injection?

Oh right, no one cares. If these things happened to a dog it would be animal cruelty, but these people are less than animals so they need to get over it. You can't be cruel or bigoted towards the most unloved demographic, and nothing will ever change. What is the point of living unloved and unwanted by everyone in your life, after it peaked when you were three?

I've been looking into daddy issues recently and I'm honestly starting to believe I have some of the symptoms.

. Fear of abandonment . Unhealthy attachment patterns . Low self-esteem . Trust issues . Jealousy . Constantly needing reassurance

I think I have 1, 2, 4, 5 and 6. I've been in a handful of relationships in my life and there always super stressful because there's always so much competition and I just want to be there number 1 girl and I don't know why but I get really obsessed with people. I've spoken about this before on this sub but if I like someone then it's like they become my main interest above all else. It's also hard for me to trust other people even I know them really well. Obviously, I get jealous really easily. I hate the thought of someone else being better then me at something and taking my lime light. I put so much effort into the way I look and getting others to like me and I feel like I deserve it.

My relationship with my parents isn't that good. I never had a 'daddys little princess' relationship with my dad growing up. I was always overshadowed by my siblings and I was never good enough for my mom or dad plus he was so violent. He got angry really easily especially when he had been drinking. He would slap us, beat us with belts and throttle us. It wasn't just that either he was always insulting us. He had no problems with using swear words around us and describing us as such and not in a fun or playful way. He singled me out of because I could never meet his standards, he call me stupid, ret@rded, lazy ect, ect,

I never had a normal father/daughter relationship growing but I think deep down I always wanted one. My number one fantasy is being pampered and taken care of by a rich man. I love the thought of being so loved by someone they go out of there way just to keep me around unconditionally like a father would do to his children. I want the father I never had.

I'm sick of hearing the whining of "gifted" children. Like, why are they even "gifted" to begin with? What... they remember the names of shapes and count well and we're supposed to believe they're the second coming of Albert Einstein?

Can imagine the type of person this could rest? Imagine growing up and being told your special and better then the other kids when all they can do is learn faster than everyone else. There just lucky, that's what gets me. It's like being praised for being born rich. It's like if we lived in a world where anyone was in a wheelchair and they could walk.

As someone with interactual disabilities I hate hearing them complain. Like really? you you were praised growing up and did well academically? Aww, I cry for you😥